Prologue

The Great Chimera thrashed its skeletal leathery wings against the hungry wind. It made an ostentatious loop around the blinking tower and heaved a great screeching growl into the timid night air. Its black oily nails sunk deep into the silvery panels of the tower and shattered chips of glass into the midnight void. It crouched proudly on the tip, staring out at the flickering metropolitan landscape of Avalium.

The taxis below honked and screeched madly, causing a chain of car crashes that stretched all the way to Skavington Avenue. Screams and tearful wailings filled the air underneath the fierce creature's nose. A great puff of a fiery cloud exploded above them, which prodded a thirsting urgency for refuge for the people of Avalium. The citizens ran with desperate haste to find a shelter or a ride that could get them out of Avalium as fast as they could. Boston would be a great bet, but that was still miles away. Miles of great existential anxiety.

The creature roared proudly, thundering the inky night. Who could challenge the beast and remain unscathed? The citizens remained vulnerable, merely run-of-the-mill ordinary people. The Chimera stretched its wings and dived down breathing a huge fiery tongue of air across the wide paved streets. A good deal of antsy bodies burned and sizzled. Some had laid there, slowly scorching to death, while others automatically turned to ash. The nightly beast purred puckishly. Its jeweled red eyes widened, however, and one of its heads sniffed something. The snake tail was still perked up but the dragon's head swung around, grinding its teeth. The lion and goat head irritably followed its member to welcome the ominous approach.

A crew of black-cloaked figures encroached the sky and began to besiege the three-headed monster. The Chimera shot itself higher but the hooded figures licked after the sable trail. A ring of angry fire tore through the air but the figures adroitly skirted it as they twirled and dove ever more closely to the night beast. The Shadowers wore golden rings and as soon as they held out their hands, a tongue of fire burst out of them. One of the cloaked men held out his hand and a huge tidal wave of water erupted out of it. The Chimera was completely windswept and barraged with pain. It screeched haughtily.

A new wave of Shadowers flew into the flaming scene. But they weren't there to destroy the dragon. The cloaked men forming the ring of fire relinquished their attacked and arrested their focus on the oncoming traitors. Green, blue, and orange fireballs licked the night air with the occasional foray of water balls. A procession of winged beasts and reptiles arrived stylishly into the fray tailed by the fearsome looks of the water dragon and the acid dragon. The creatures fought the remaining treacherous sorcerers giving leeway for the original Shadowers to finish off the Chimera.

"Elven! Find the boy and make sure he's safe! Don't worry about the mother–-we can't take any chances at this point!" cried the cloaked sorcerer sprouting a partition of water and fire from his left and right hand.

"But Raufus–"

"I'm not asking you, Elven!" The Shadower shouted.

"Go now, Elven, we can't be a moment too late," said the other Shadower. His voice was much deeper and settled.

Hesitantly, Elven let go of his line of fire and drew a sword within the swirling hissing smoke that his hands conjured. Spots of blood teased his vision, it was too much of a confounding weight to have conjured the instrument. But the spell had fortunately worked.

"Here!" Elven shouted. He tossed the silvery sword to the imposing cloaked figure and flung himself down into the scorched darkness. He narrowly avoided a green fireball that brazed past his arms. Fingers were pointing up at the stars and mouths were gaping. The civilians were looking up at the sky as if it were a terrifying fireworks show. Elven pushed himself impatiently among the crowd.

"What are you guys goggling at? If it's a five-star rating you want, then I'd hate to disappoint you. Scram! ! I mean it–you'll get seriously hurt. Go back to those warm beds of yours!"

But nobody moved a single muscle. The spectacle was just too alluring. Even as the ashen corpses lay there against the stark moonlight, children were starting to move up into the queue to take witness to the clashing battle above. Fireballs splashed onto the ground like rain on a gray Monday. The Chimera growled lecherously, this time as loud as the fuming gods–-a blow had been struck. The people oohed and whispered excitedly as more and more eyes aggregated to the fiery scene.

Elven incredulously sized up the crowd then nervously stole a glance at the vines of fire above and disappeared. It didn't take long until the sorcerer's feet landed heavily on the rocky ground. The soaring wind had blown his hoodie back, revealing his long buttery blonde hair and perky elfish ears. He walked humbly up the paved walkway to a small squashed hut of a house. It was tucked deep into the Township of Avalium, a sleepy cluster of neighborhood houses that fell so deep that it was shrouded by nothing but pine trees and retired whimpering grove trees.

Elven had to contain himself proficiently as soon as he saw the place. He was pretty good at that, putting on a brave mask in the face of monstrosity. Something that he had been taught expertly at the university many years ago and had honed over the years. The house was begrimed in the art of blood. Splattered remnants of the red stuff could be seen from every inch of the walls.

As Elven crawled deeper within these walls, he heard a familiar cry. An innocent cry. Kind of like the ones he heard in the streets but much younger. Elven ran upstairs and entered the unspoken bowels of the bedroom. The baby's sound was clear here and it was coming from the crib. No light cracked through besides the one from the gibbous moon. It barely shone on the baby's mother. Her neck was slit and her stomach was gouged open. The picturesque blood must've come from her. No doubt a piece of work from the Chimera.

Would anyone want such a frightening, unnatural, pitiful boy with blood such as his? Who would be subservient to such abnormalities? Surely, the only choice would have to be a foster home nearby in the city. And the only ones Elven could think of were the Brixons. He had read about them in a newspaper once when he was a young boy at the university. They wouldn't be elated, but they would take him. Elven scooped the boy into his arms and fled the unsettling scene. The open eyes of the mother seemed to be boring into him. Unnerving indeed. Law enforcement would take care of her. Or would they?

Elven disappeared and blinked into a sleepy street with a bunch of old sedans cramped together on one street. The neighborhood was pin-drop quiet except for the one raven that fluttered by and perched on top of the apartment-like building. As the Shadower drew closer the raven fluttered its wings and cawed accusingly. Elven laid the baby down, duplicated his Alma Mater badge, and scribbled something on the conjured notepad. He lay the notepad and badge inside the baby's blanket and then conjured up a crib to put the baby in. Elven serenely knocked on the door about four times, walked out of the quiet neighborhood, and swiftly disappeared.

The Great Chimera had vanished. It had coughed out a few fiery breaths, but Zenithclad the sorcerer had jammed a few bloody holes in it and injected the fear of weakness into the creature's bones. The great creature vanished into a wisp of smoke. As to where it had gone, the Shadowers were unsure, but they had preserved another day for the city, and hopefully a few more quiet years. The Monstrums had helped take care of the traitorous Shadowers and had locked them in a fiery cage. They stood guard around the cage like a bunch of rotating cherubs until law enforcement arrived.

The black ghosts of men flew down to an abandoned alleyway among a barrage of cheers. Elven stood waiting in the stoic quiet.

"The boy's affairs have been arranged," Elven whispered ridgedly.

"Yes?" said the dark, grumbling voice of Zenithclad.

"I've enlisted him with the Brixons."

"Marvelous, you've locked him in with the worst people imaginable in this city!" Raufus said. "What if they report him? Or maybe they get a little jumpy and off him! When they find out what he is–"

"I'm sure he'll be fine," said the fourth voice within the cloaked party. It belonged to a soft-spoken woman. "Elven, you did the best that you could do within the time constraints."

"We best venture back before we draw too much attention to ourselves. I'm not too fond of cameras and interviews."

"As if we haven't caused enough commotion already!" snorted Raufus.

"Expediently said, Elven. Shall we? I'm rather looking forward to finishing my dinner, you know," said Zenithclad.

"What about the Monstrums?"

"They'll report back to us, as they always do."

"And the boy?" said the soft-spoken sorceress.

"I'll be meeting him again quite soon," Zenithclad uttered deeply. "And when I do he'll have to confront his terrible past. He'll surely have many unsettling questions but I'll have to relay the details to him. The boy has know the truth about his origin, he deserves that at the very least. But for now, let's all be glad that he's still alive. God knows when we'll be needing him again."