by Ava D. Dohn
The
Chronicles of
Heaven’s War:
Sisters
of the
BloodWind
Copyright 2012
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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This book is dedicated to the silent sentinels who have sacrificed everything for us, the unknowing and uncaring, so that we may have a hope of a better future. Without their assistance and protection, I doubt any freedom would still exist for mankind to enjoy.
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Table of Contents:
Prologue
Section One: Destiny's Road
Section Two: Of Councils Great and Small
Section Three: Legend's Heroes
Section Four: The Forges of Hell
Section Five: Silent Tombs
Prologue:
My children, you have asked me why your mother walks in the shadows of your world, seeking dark, quiet places. You say she prefers songs of lament to cries of mirth and joy. You wonder at her silence, her quiet moods and her distant stare. Be patient, for her days of mourning have yet to pass. Though the century comets have returned a thousand times, she has not come to forget the suffering. And should they return a thousand times more, she will still be haunted by ghosts from long ago. So, do learn from my story and come to understand.
To the days of long ago I will take you -
Before Shadow-walkers roamed the forests and hills,
Before the daughters of Tolohe danced beside the firelight,
Yes, before your people took a breath.
That is where I will transport you -
Into an age without light, filled with despair,
To a time when hope was little more than bitter faith.
You shall see things and you will become afraid.
Then you will comprehend,
And insight will grow in your minds.
Your mother you will gain empathy for,
Your mother you will begin to understand.
Your mother you will start to know.
So journey with me, my children of innocence. I will teach you the way it was then. And if my children should fail to learn, the Darkening Age may well come again. So be silent and listen. Gain wisdom and live.
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Section One
Destiny’s Road
‘To reach the beginning, you must start in the middle,
And to attain the finish, you must comprehend all things.
Time goes ever forward,
But knowledge learns always from the past.’ - ZoeStethos
‘The child has arrived and is hurrying on to an uncertain destiny. Today will prove to be the beginning or ending of all things...’
The person sat back, eyes aching from haunting visions of twisted destinies, head pounding because of a distorted musical uncertainty playing its disenchanting melodies, along with a heart being overwhelmed with dread concerning future days.
All life hung upon a thread - the choice of a moment, the beat of a troubled heart… and little could the Maker of Worlds do than trust it to the wisdom of a very impetuous child who drew now ever closer to this uncertain destiny.
Chimes of the great clock sounded in the person’s ears. How many times had it called out to the distress of nations? How many children could no longer hear the beautiful music it made? Was it ten million, a hundred million, maybe more? This one, sitting back waiting for the arrival of a treasured, precious child, did not recall. What the person did know was that the belly of Hell was not yet satisfied.
With head shaking from side to side, tears began. Should the Empire win this coming conflagration, even though the child may prove wise, many times those who had already gone to their deaths would fall to Wrath’s coming storms. Should they lose? Well, that could not be allowed, even if it cost the lives of all the children of the Empire…the universe.
The person stood, walking onto a balcony, looking down on a jungle of greenery seen nowhere else but here, the lone remaining peaceful bastion in this tempestuous universe.
Sighing quiet remorse that no others were allowed to sense, a musical cry of dismay went out to the breeze, a cry of bitter lament from a ‘wanton heart that sought only selfish cravings to never feel alone’.
“Lo, foolish dreamer, your wish come true,
To sense the world with heart imbued.
Doth now the vial of bitter brew,
Its caustic taste your heart renew?
And now Rhiannon in oath does take,
To bind her children to an evil fate.
For should the world be made anew,
It first must pass through this witch’s brew.”
The person looked off toward the sound of the great clock as it chimed its last refrain. Then, with head bent down in sadness, this Maker of Worlds turned and slowly retreated into the darkness of hidden rooms to await the evils of the coming Fates.
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