Some say the beginning of the end was when the Volcano under the Mountain erupted after being dormant for 3,000 years. Some say it was when Grand Library was sacked in a matter of hours for the second time in a month, and then left to burn. Still others say it was when the Army of the Rift fell at midnight, every last soldier slain by the red and silver shadow. But the scribes would later conclude that the beginning of the end transpired when the demoness Lyrazesque lost her Sword.


    Why would the foul terror losing her most trusted weapon be a harbinger of doom? After all, it was with this Sword that she decimated every challenger sent to kill her, after she strode defiantly into Guardial, devoured the young maiden who had been named the queen of light and beauty, and set that crown upon her brow. This point was argued for many decades, in hushed tones, where her allies could not hear, but no one could make any sense of it. All that remains known from that time is that shortly after the Sword disappeared, the demoness staked her claim on the Seat of Ayre in the North, and from there spread her territory outward for the next 40 years, until a third of the Continent was hers. The next vicennium was spent trying, and failing, to free these lands from Lyrazesque’s tyranny, at the cost of many lives. Eventually, the Great Council came to the realization that it would never be able to mount a successful campaign, the demoness’s power being too great, and so they sued for peace and tribute.


    The men met the demoness in the middle of the lake that sat below her great coastal fortress. Them, on a barge befit for an emperor, one last show of strength. She, on a tiny skiff, alone.


    Well, not alone.


    For as the boat approached the Council’s, the lookouts spotted a small figure next to Lyrazesque. A young human girl, no older than five, who sat quietly as the demoness somehow compelled the craft forward.


    The men of the Council were aghast. Despite the demoness’s past cruelty, this somehow surpassed it all. Taking a human girl hostage! They muttered to themselves, quickly trying to think of something to do. But their vain attempts to quell the demoness in years past reminded them that any clever thinking was likely to fail, and so they sent their delegation out into the water to see if they could hopefully bargain for the girl’s freedom.


    There, they learned a startling truth. For the small girl was not human, as previously assumed, but instead appeared to be a half-breed. A pair of little horns adorned her forehead and a red tail poked out from underneath the girl’s skirt, but otherwise she appeared normal.


    The delegates murmured to themselves, hoping not to trigger Lyrazesque’s wrath by accident, and decided to just ignore the girl entirely. But their plan failed immediately, as the demoness dictated the terms of peace.


    First, her domain would be extended several leagues outwards from its current boundaries. Those who did not wish to be subjected to her rule would have one month to leave; after that, no one would be allowed to enter or escape. The new territory would serve as a buffer, lest anyone accidentally stray inside her lands proper.


    Second, a lodge was to be built in the neutral territory. Every year, the Council would be required to send a delegation to address the demoness’s concerns and the required tribute.


    Third, the Council was given a long object, wrapped in burlap. When they asked what it was, the truth of the demoness’s Sword was finally revealed at last. It was not lost, as previously theorized, but had remained with Lyrazesque the entire time. Until now. For her next request was for them to take the Sword far, far away from her, and hide it in a place she would not know. The unfortunate sword bearer would have to be sacrificed, after the Sword was hidden, so that no one else could find it either. But the Council surmised that the demoness willingly giving up her most powerful weapon was a good thing, and so they did not protest.


    Finally, and perhaps most shockingly, the demoness informed the Council that they would be taking the girl to be a rotating ward at the courts of the various kingdoms, duchies, and empires, so that she could learn the ways of man. For this was no random half-demon, but Lyrazesque’s own flesh and blood, her daughter. This revelation caused several delegation members to faint, while the others offered their sincere apologies for the perceived slight. The demoness ignored them, and bade the girl to step across the gap between the boats, which she did without complaint.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Before another word could be spoken, Lyrazesque’s skiff turned around and sailed off into the distance, leaving the men to deal with the scared little girl now in their charge. You have heard of this girl, who, five hundred years later, is now on the cusp of womanhood, for the demon life cycle is much slower than humans.


    She is known as Lady Elara of the Moon Court in polite circles, or Elara the Half-Breed in impolite ones. A fixture across the Continent, she maintains a warm and charming visage. Her manners are impeccable and her knowledge of the Disciplines is second-to-none. Indeed, were it not for her horns and tail, which have grown only slightly in the intervening years, she could be easily confused with one of her ladies-in-waiting.


    But she also serves as a constant reminder to the would-be rulers that their power is an illusion, and that but for the mercy of the demoness in the North, their ancestors would have all died on the water that day long ago. Many have debated the merit of the deal that was struck, but few can argue that the intervening centuries have been calm, at least outside of the borders of the demon lands. What goes on passed the buffer is still a mystery, the only clue being the annual visits to the Truce Lodge, and the knowledge gleaned from them is still woeful. Even Lady Elara knows not what her mother is up to, or so say the whispers from her current court.


    But there is another nearly woman that you do not know. She lives an unassuming life, in a small village tucked between the Mountains of Arris, far from the Cities and far from the gaze of Lyrazesque. She is a smith’s apprentice, a hardy girl who can wield a sword or a bow with equal ease, for that is what is required for all children who grow up in Arris.


    This girl is called Hana because she is the flower of her village. She has heard tales of the Demon Wars of ages past, but they are just stories that the elders tell the children so that they do not wander off at night. She has never paid them any mind. But that is all about to change.


    One crisp fall morning, Hana was out collecting water from one of the newer cisterns, when she heard a strange sound. It wasn’t a bird, for Hana was familiar with their songs. And it wasn’t the family of brown bears, they wouldn’t return from their summer foraging for several weeks. No, this was different. This was … could it be a yokai?


    Hana demurred. There had not been a yokai spotted in the Mountains for many generations, thanks to the wards that ringed the range. Had they somehow failed? She knew she should return to the village, to alert the elders, but for some reason, she decided to find the source of the sound.


    Hana walked further into the forest, until she came across something she had never seen before: a small opening in the giant rock formations that she had spent hours climbing over as a child. To call it a cave would be generous, for it was barely large enough for Hana to squeeze through. Which she found herself doing before her better sense could intervene.


    She crawled on her stomach, probably ruining her favorite stole in the process, until she found herself in an expansive cavern. Though it should have been pitch black, somehow she could still see, though not very well. Her eyes tracked the source of the light down one of the branching tunnels in front of her, and again, perhaps not knowing any better, she followed it.


    As she did, the sound from earlier got louder and louder, the pit in her stomach growing larger and larger. Hana thought about turning back. She was weaponless and she had not yet broken her fast, so she was in no shape to defend herself, should it come to that. But thankfully, the end of the tunnel delivered her into a chamber where nothing menacing seemed to be waiting.


    Hana’s eyes were immediately drawn to the center of this strange place, which unlike the rest of the cave seemed to have been purposefully carved from the rock. And in the center of the room was a dais, where both the light and the sound were emanating. On the platform, resting across two y-shaped poles, was something draped in burlap.


    Hana scrambled up to it, as if being pulled inward, and unwrapped the mysterious package to find a gigantic (and glowing) sword. Larger than any in the village, she doubted she could move it from its resting place. But the morning’s surprises continued, as she grasped the handle of the sword and lifted it into the air with ease.


    Hana took a few practice swings before bringing the blade up to her ear. She could detect no trace of the mysterious sound, either coming from the blade or anywhere else in the room. Shrugging her shoulders, she fashioned a makeshift sling with the burlap and nestled the sword in between it and her back, not relishing the journey back through the narrow passage.


    But before she could get any further, something stopped her dead in her tracks. A whisper, barely there, but yet it was, just the same.


    “Please,” said a young man’s voice. “Help me.”