Prologue

In The Valley of O'Könan,

Lived the witches and warlocks of Celtic times

Their craft known for all of time.

Their children carried the genes and grimoires

that would ultimately define their fate,

who would’ve known that they would be bait?

The infamous name, Ailin,

their sons and daughters that would follow

the path set in stone.

O! When the war began,

their screams were heard for eternity,

engraved in the forests and their blood

that poured into the rivers and flowed away.

When the Romans destroyed their faith,

murdered their kin,

the infamous name, Ailin,

fled away and into the hills of

Volumore, never heard from again,

until they sprang up from the ground,

centuries later,

in modern day Worcester.

Servants, lawyers, mothers and more,

the family name, oh so powerful,

ruled the cities of the North.

They flourished, they prospered,

their sons and daughters, protected.

It was said, in the ancient days,

that only one would remain,

to fight the devilish folk

and become Queen.

The healer, Eimber

And the intelligent, Kyle,

their name known for long as time,

birthed four daughters and three sons,

All of which carried the genes and grimoires

that would define their fate.

Their oldest, poisoned by deceit,

their twins, consumed by greed,

Frederick, the timid,

while Vidar, the humorous,

and Brigit, the fierce,

all apart of the dangerous prophecy.

And when the horizon turns a crimson red,

darker and thicker than blood,

their reign shall end,

and when their youngest, sweet Leanan,

better known as Lena,

shall be reborn as the Kuein of Witches,

their savior forevermore.

So mote it be!