“There is no right or wrong, only what is and what isn’t.” The hooded figure uttered, the pressure in the air palpable as he sneered, has arms coming together. “And you should not be here. You...are what isn't.” ~~~ The dark ages were at hand and realms grew impatient, the difference between protagonists and antagonists seemed to blur under the flickering flame that lit up their world.  For they all bled, did they not? There they where, at the mercy of all who were greater. Threats and blessings at all turns and corners, who could tell them apart? Not even the wisest. Some seeded order, order of power, of what should and shouldn’t be. Though this meant nothing to those whom their lives had been suddenly torn apart from perfectly normal to an ethereal hurricane of the unnatural. Maraja was one of these unlucky souls, along with a few other of our growing protagonists. Where she belonged, who she was, none of these made sense anymore after the attack on earth. As would any other eighteen year old, she tried to run away from the truth, to hide behind the realm she had grown up in. She could not. Earth was no place to hold her growing power anymore and she had to leave. Read not only of Maraja, but also of all those who acted as both catalysts and hindrances to a somewhat greater good. Their actions would weld hidden agendas and pride into the grand tapestry surrounding every realm. And in these dark times, there would be a bright light, or so did the prophecy foretell. Yet again trust would hardly survive this ordeal, for it seemed revenge, greed and denial were the whispers of the dark ages.