The Fourteen

Prologue

Unknown's POV:

Magic: a very beautiful thing. It ran through my veins and was interlocked with my soul. There was not a memory I could conjure up, in which I did not know magic.

For it was all I knew. I was not like the humans, who grew up thinking that magic was a concept that only existed in fairy tales and dreams. No. Magic was very much real.

In my world of magic, there are two kinds of people. The Imperials, who are self-proclaimed saints preaching their traditional morals and values. And my people, the loyalists of the Southern Rebel movement.

For centuries, my people have been at war with the Imperials. The fighting between us had almost become part of our culture. There was not a person alive that had seen peace between rebels and Imperials. All we saw was indifference.

And even as I walked the halls of the huge compound I called home, I still found myself scowling at the Imperials. They lived throughout the Four Kingdoms, with no fear of persecution. But we lived in buildings tucked away, far into the Southern Kingdom. We lived our lives cautiously, always looking over our shoulders. And I was sick of it.

The cold air seeped through the poorly maintained compound. Weather was never on our side. Today, the Sun simply refused to shine. In its place, angry nimbus clouds pounded the glass ceiling above my head.

For now, I found solace in the branches of a most ancient tree in supernatural history. This particular tree held a very special place in all our hearts. There were fourteen main branches. Each limb was adorned to represent one of the fourteen branches of supernatural magic. Benedanti, demi-daemons, vampires, werewolves, sorcerers, witches, necromancers, shayman; bear, eagle, cat and, wolf skin-walkers; Slienci, and Zana. I placed a hand on the tree's trunk, tracing the words engraved. Ligno Matre.

"Do you know the story of this tree?" I looked up to see my father standing before me.

I remained silent; we had nothing to say to each to other.

His face softened. "Danny, you know that you're not supposed to be up there. What will the others think when they see their leader's son disobeying our scared rules?"

We were not allowed to climb the Ligno Matre. It was thought to be disrespectful to the fourteen deities; long ago, The Fourteen had created all of the supernatural races. We owed our magical abilities to them. Also, they had gifted us with this tree.

"Of course I know not to climb the tree. But where else would I have found some peace and quiet?" I leapt from my branch.

"If you know, then why do you do it?" He rubbed his face. "I don't know why I even bother!"

"Then don't! I'm not a little kid anymore, Dad! Thank The Fourteen that there's only a few more months until I'm of age, in our world at least. I can't wait to be sixteen."

"Son, one day you will be leader of the Southern Rebels. You are a Solway, born and bred to lead. I am not your enemy. The Imperials are."

I tuned out the lecture.

"-ou know, there was a time when I was young too." My father had a wistful expression of his face.

"Well that's hard to imagine."

The great Southern Rebel leader sighed. "You're late. The meeting started over a half hour ago."

"Well, I don't see you attending the meeting either."

He did not respond. Though, I saw a small tick in his jaw. Then, he turned on his heel, striding away from me. I knew better than to not follow him.