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DARKNESS RISES - ORIGINS Foreward: People often ask me: how did the Darkness Rises trilogy come about. Well, I've been meaning to post this for a very long time; it's the birth of Berren and the start of everything. This is the very first story I wrote, and it was years ago when the whole series was just a twinkle in my eye. I know a lot of authors say their old work makes them cringe; this is one of those moments. I look back at this text now and wish desperately to revise it. But I shall resist the temptation to edit it into perfection, and leave it as it is - raw and untouched by my hands in five years. It's also the first time the vampires threatened Berren. If you recall in Book 2, he comments that he was given three warnings by the Children of Vangual. Well, this is the first. Now, before you say anything. I know there's a lot in here that contradicts the Darkness Rises story (such as Berren encountering the vampires bleeding dry the corpses - when in the real story, Olivia Danvers is the first). Curious how things evolve over the years, isn't it? Anyway, read on and make up your own mind about the true version of events. * * * * * DAWN My name is Enkilash Morrodan and I am a wielder of the Arcane and member of the Conclave in the city of Kethak (although those words will mean nothing to you now). I was there at the start; in those unknowing days of twilight when the shadow rained down upon us all. As day turned to dusk and dusk to night, and all hope failed, those of us with the foresight took measures, desperate steps to withstand the coming tide of darkness. This is my story of shadow and the efforts I took to survive what came with the rise of evil. I was present at the very beginning when the long night fell down around us. I endured much through those endless days and as I peer into the gloom that is the dawn sky, I shall recount a time before, when I was still mortal, still breathing. It is not my place to say how the mortal realms fell to twilight, but how fate dragged me into the battle for the mortal realms themselves. * * * * * NOON It was unbearably hot. Constable Frederick Berren stepped through the sauna and pulled pensively at his jacket. Already a thin trickle of sweat ran down his back and beads of perspiration formed on his brow. The council had refused to hear his words together, so it was time for desperate measures. He was just grateful that the steam obscured him and he prayed that no one would see him, standing in the royal sauna, in the middle of the day, fully clothed, boots and all. "Magister Alvand?" he said, peering through the steam. "I must speak with you." Magister Alvand looked up. "Berren?" he said quizzically. "Aye sir," Berren replied, moving towards the bulk of the Councillor. "It is me. I need to speak with you, urgently." "You're hardly dressed for the occasion," Alvand chuckled, then seeing the seriousness on the other's face, patted the wooden bench beside him. "Come, sit beside me and tell me your most pressing news." Berren sat beside him and wiped his face with his hands. "It's about the deaths," he said over loudly, looking around at the wraithlike faces that watched him curiously through the mist. He unbuttoned his jacket and waited for Alvand to respond, yet the Magister watched him without comment. "It's been three months," Berren said, more quietly. "And nothing's changed. If anything matters have only grown worse." The Magister sniffed. "It's barely afternoon on my one day off and you come here to tell me about the killings. I've heard it all before Berren. From you personally, many times over." "But Magister," Berren protested, "It's not like it was before. In fact, it's worse than ever. Rumours whisper that the Guild of Thieves are about to pack up and move to pastures new. They say the night is no longer safe for them." "That's no bad thing, Constable," Alvand said. "It is when the people are afraid to go out at night and that the City's on the edge of panic." "I know Berren," Alvand said blandly. "That's why we pay you so much to lead the Watch." "But we can't cope." Berren whispered conspiratorially. "I've told the Council, but they aren't listening. I don't think they want to hear what I have to say. But we can't do any more. We can only guard so much of the city and the deaths are getting more frequent, and stranger." "How do you mean, stranger?" Alvand asked, leaning forward and pouring some water onto the coals with a wooden ladle. Berren frowned as fresh steam rose up and washed over him. "I mean that the deaths aren't normal. We're finding corpses with their heads ripped off. Bodies with their throats cut out, and worse. Bodies with a thousand tiny bite marks on every inch of their flesh." Despite the intense heat, Alvand suppressed a momentary shiver, "Where is this happening?" Berren shrugged, "Well it was near the market district, at first, the bodies were found in Darke Alley, but over the months, they have spread. Now they are everywhere. And there's only one thing that connects them all. "And that is?" For a moment, Berren looked grave before replying. "That every corpse
has been completely drained of blood."
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