Guardians of the Predator

'Even the greatest of hero's can't see an enemy until they look them in the eye'
Something lurks in the bushes.
Something hides behind the curtains.
It sleeps under the surface of the world.
It is cruel and slightly grey.
A predator.
But why dare say that even you have not seen this one coming?

When shadows begin to settle in places unknown, Morewyn SilverWing, A pure-blooded Copher, steps in between what she thinks is a shadow, and what is purely innocent. Her words fall upon open ears, and her actions are watched by something hiding in the clouds.
But her world is falling apart, and splitting hairs over a false enemy is not the way one would save the world.


1. Prologue

Late into the night, the snow fell and fell. Long had it been since we had such a substance here in Dragospire. But, there was something that came with this anomaly. Something odd and prophetical. 
The Winds whispered it. The moon howled it, as if it were the lyrics of a song. A song so wretched and painful that the bats ceased to call for their brothers. 
Twas strange how the smallest sound could block out, and silence the voices of the millions that lived in the Cliffs. 
The Cliffs bore many caves and were home to more than a billion creatures of flight. This was the realm of the feathered scales, but one could never truly realize how populated this valley was until they gazed upon its day themselves. 
My cheeks were slightly warmed from the tight smile I wore. Beaten and old, I knew my days were coming to a stop. My light was slipping through the fingers of my bone-skin hands. 
“Lady Iduna, does ye curse still bare?” The trembling voice belonged to my still faithful hand maiden, Cybele. 
“Y…ye…s… I… barely hold …to the light” My body struggled to speak the words I wished. In the corner of my eye, I could see her shaking figure. 
Her slanted blue eyes were sunken with sorrow. From the blurry red splotches on the bodice of her dress, I could tell she had yet to wash the blood from her uniform. Such death she must have seen after the battle. 
She stressed, “My Lady- please let me get you something for the p-pain!” I shook my head as much as I could.
“N… escape… mea!” I wheezed. My breath was labored. Quite was the pain I felt as my eye sight continued to drop with my height. Hunched over and struggling to keep to my feet. I held on to my sanity through the feeling of my spine ripping through my fragile skin; protruding out of the thin clothes that weighed me down like a hundred bars of iron on my shoulders.
I did not know if this was death or the beginning of a life of torture in hell. I hoped the latter, but it seemed almost too good to be true.
And then with a surge, I felt it. The black curse seeped through the frame of my bones and if I had to compare it to anything, it would be like a snake coiling round the cord that held my life together. A snap and it was broken. Any second now it would.
It was in that fatal second that I scrambled to cough some blood into my hands, and write onto the window ledge that I leaned on. These words, forever bound to the one, would change the life of a flock which had yet to be forged.

Ue Donnaras Nan shaj rit Seprens,
I tor Bo aed r'a idae.
Ien arka tahaeu ihra una,
Em ien arka tahaeu ihra loe.
Mahdar ta pe ihea Reno Dalands,
Thaea foh ta feni,
Em ben iheth nanas jue.
See ir ta heil,
Bo hoseth denath Eli.

A violent tremor took hold of my body and before I could desperately write the rest, my consciousness slipped and my hand and the rest of my body became still. 


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