Breath of Mist (Breath of Mist #1)

Prologue

The Spirit once existed in all creatures who lived in Armenda.

It gave life to the lifeless. Gifted those who were favored with the ability to conjure.

Those with the gift could open a door within themselves and connect to the Spirit realm, drawing on its mystic energy.

For a time, the world of Armenda lived in harmony, conjurors using their abilities to help their neighbors. Life was peaceful.

But that time was now long forgotten.

Like a snowflake giving way to the heat of summer, the time of peace melted into the great river of history.

Too small to be remembered against the turbulent flowing water.

Some of those living in Armenda became infected with greed that spread through the lands like a contagion.

Swiftly, the differences between all beings became a reason for distrust. The peace became tumultuous until, finally, a gruesome war broke out, leading to the dark years of ashes.

Like an uncontrollable forest fire, the war spread corruption and hate, suffocating those who tried to ignore it and burning those who fought.

No one was spared. Gray smoke clouded the once blue skies, smothering everything that the war was fought over.

Eventually, the Spirit turned away from its creations in disappointment, but not before they shed a single tear at what had become of the once beautiful Armenda.

The Spirit brought the tear to the leaders of the three races and offered one last gift, a treaty.

By then, the agony caused by the war was stronger than the hatred they all felt for one another, and the treaty was accepted by all three peoples.

The treaty became the covenant that separated the three beings of Armenda for centuries to pass.

The great leaders signed the agreement with their blood, sealed it with the tear of the Spirit, and then burned the treaty to ash, which was carried by the wind over the land.

Afterward, the Spirit was never seen again.

From then on, the Sidhe kept to the western mountains, the Lysians to the east, and the Bavadrins in between.

The leaders of each race kept the sacred promises of the treaty: never to harm a fellow leader or an innocent of another race, and to remain in their own territories unless an invitation was extended, or a message sent by the leader.

To break the oaths was to ensure the wrath of the Spirit.

Stories were passed down for generations, breathing fresh fear into the young, ensuring they abided by the ancient treaty, for the price otherwise was too great.

None crossed the boundaries into territories not their own, for fear of upsetting the Spirit and bringing its fury onto their lands. For centuries, each race was believed to have kept to its own lands. The treaty was believed to be maintained by all.

For generations, those in Armenda lived with a tense peace.

Until one day, a Lysian decided to break the treaty.