• Eosayne wandered the wood. Confused, lost and hungry, he wasn't thinking straight. Eosayne's clothing ripped, torn and dirtie from days of running from his master's whip. he knew that if he returned, he would most certainly die. And so against his better judgment he still left.
    "I know I have been here before....." rasped Eosayne, throat dry from lack of water.
    Eosayne's long dark curly hair hung to his sweaty face, the beads of sweat streaking down his forehead and into hie eyes. Eosayne squints, trying futilely to rid his eyes of the sweat. Eosayne continues walking till he comes to a tree that looks its branches are grasping the moon .Eosayne peers at the tree, as he does, he sees a sign nailed to the tree, almost hastily, like whoever was nailing it there was in a really big rush. The nails stuck out in all directions both on top and bottom. On the sign is written, " All who go further will be rot in the pits of Hell for awakening the forgotten evil that lies further in these woods!! Go No Further!!"
    "How odd, " thought Eosayne, " I didn't know that this old forest was haunted." he scoffed. "What rubbish. What superstitious nonsense."
    Eosayne continued to walk, hitting the side of the sign with his hand as he walks by.
    Eosayne looks to the ground, watching his feet as he walked, the trees had grown so close that it was nearly impossible not to trip on a root or fallen branch. As he watched his steps, he noticed a fine red mist had begun to gather on the ground. Startled by this new development, Eosayne begins to run frequently tripping on roots, and branches; the mist on the ground getting thicker on the while. Whamp!! Eosayne had run into a tall tombstone. Eosayne rubbed his head as he peered up at the giant stone. Tall rectangular base was the bottem, stone as black as obsidian.At the top of the tombstone was carved an angel, hunched over and carrying a scythe with her wings born low about her, almost protectively so.The angel's eyes down cast, which brough Eosayne attention to the top of the rectangular stone. On which was carved" Sangui Bibi Daemn".
    Obviously latin, Eosayne didn't know what it meant. Eosayne mouthed the words. As he mouthed them, a sudden feeling of dread came over him. As if just merely mouthing these words, was a mortal sin in and of itself.
    A voice then begun to whisper in his head,
    "Who dares awaken me from my slumber? Are you the man who betrayed me?'
    So galvanized by sound of this voice in his head, Eosayne stumbles back and trips on a a root.
    "Answer the question or your fate will soon meet a mortifying end as quickly as you were brought into this world!" exclaimed the voice with such malice and fury that Eosayne threw up his arms in an attempt to block whatever attack that he thought was going to follow.
    "Please I meant no harm, I am nothing but a slave boy who has run from his master! Please don't harm me!" pleaded Eosayne.
    "Hmmm," hummed the voice inside his head, " You tell the truth. Your heart beats no lie."
    Eosayne lowers his arms slightly as to peer though the small opening between them.
    "I shall serve thee instead, if thou wisheth..." Eosayne murmured knowing that this was a bad idea.
    "Really?" whispered the voice, " you would serve one, who you have not yet seen, or know of thy poweress?"
    "As the sun rises and falls," answered Eosayne almost guiltily.
    "So be it then," whispered the voice and with those words came such a gust of wind that it knocked the wind out of Eosayne's chest and back up against the tree which he had fallen. The red mist on the ground began to churn and wither like snakes were beneath so much so that Eosayne feared to put his feet near it in fear he would get bitten. The mist gathered near the base of the tombstone, the mist erupted in a burst of scent. it smelled of things forgotten, of mist and decay and yet of jasmine and desire.
    There at the base of the tombstone knelled a woman, Long dark hair down to her waist, that shone like silk in the moonlight, pale white skin not sickly but fair, almost like porcelain. Oval eyes that bore stones of Emerald and Amber. A slender form with nay a scar or bruise. As she stood her gown flowed around her like the night that shown around them. It bore cranes of white, dragons of gold and phoenix's of red all around. The gown was made for her and her alone. Eosayne's mouth fell open as he realized that this woman was indeed a rare beauty to behold.
    "Come slave, we have must to do. First and foremost, I must make you mine," she cooed.
    "Whatever my lady asks, it shall be down," answered Eosayne unaware of his blushing cheeks.
    "Then kneel before me slave, this must be done quickly before the sun rises," snapped the woman.
    "If it is not too much to ask, my lady, may I know your name, as to know what to call you?" pleaded Eosayne.
    "You may call me Keaira, and what is your name slave?" ordered Keaira.
    "It is Eosayne, son of Enoch, my lady," answered Eosayne.
    " Now that we have finished our minuscule introductions, let us hurry with the deed that is yet to be done," snapped Keaira.
    "Right away my lady,' answered Eosayne as he scrambles to get to his feet.
    As he finally gets his footing and hurries to his lady's side the beginning sounds of morning arrival begin to sound.
    "Quickly Fool!!" Keaira snaps.
    Just as the sun beams begin to shine above the hill, Eosayne kneels before his lady.
    "Bend thy head down, quickly now," orders Keaira urgently.
    Eosayne bends his head towards the ground.
    "With this kneeling, it signifies that you are mine to both use and protect for you my protection as well. With this gift that I am about to bestow upon you, you are mine hence forth."
    With the words said, Keaira bends down towards Eosayne. Eosayne could smell her hair, as Keaira bent down, its as if jasmine where made from her hair, so alluring and so beautiful. And her skin, pale as fresh milk and as delicate as a snow flake.
    "I make you mine," whispers Keaira.
    And at that moment, with a sharp piercing pain and sickening sinking feeling in his gut Eosayne knows that this woman is far worse a master than his last. But too late is his regret for as the piercing pain fades, his eyes cloud with red and feels the grip of the world fade away, and this is where our story tryuly begins.