The Fireborn: Prologue
#1 of The Fireborn
   Disclaimer: Hopefully this goes without saying, but if you are not 18 or 21 or older you shouldn't be on this website. This is a place for adult fantasy and is supposed to be run and inhabited by adults. It is not my job nor the job of the staff or moderators to be the parents of today's youth, but given how this country and others are run by bleeding heart liberals and psycho conservatives there's no one left to be real parents. Simply put: If you aren't of legal age to be on this website either get the hell off of it or don't get caught being on it. Now truth be told half of this website is probably 16 years old anyways, so kudos to you little rebels.
   All characters, unless otherwise noted, are pretend copyrighted to myself. Until I actually mail ye olde government and get a real copyright all I can do is try to scare folks away. The names here are common names and the characters fluid, so chances are that I've somehow infringed on someone else's concept by pure accident. Whatever.
   I'll shut my trap now. Enjoy the story series folks. Sex scene will be in chapter 6.
   September 21st, 2011
   London. A city of wonders you might say. It is a place that has long combined the metropolitan, modern ways of the world with the majesty and wonder of a far more ancient design. It has seen many many changes in its time and yet always came out stronger for it. It's been ruled by Celtic tribes, was held by the Romans who were then ousted by the Saxons. Warriors and peoples of Normandy came later and the list goes on. It has been the site of someone else's empire and has been the heart of it's own empire. Kings and queens, lords and ladies, emperors both foreign and domestic have seen it as theirs. It's been sacked by marauders, burned down in a fire and was bombed half way to kingdom come. They say that strength is born from heartbreak.. well if the city had a living beating heart it may very well have flooded the oceans with blood and would be so unconquerable as to be the very definition of what it means to be strong, stoic and steadfast. Well the city doesn't have an actual heart.. but the people here probably coined that word: stoic.
   The London of today is again at the heart of great power and change. It is the gathering point of a coming storm. Many years ago a great event, one that should have been seen as the coming of a new age, occurred right here in London. It was invisible though, unseen and unnoticed to all the world twice over. Maybe some ritual was performed, perhaps some alignment of stars occurred in the clouded night sky, it might have even been an unseen fulfillment of an ancient prophecy.. whatever it was it changed the city. Hell as far as I'm concerned it changed the world.
   What is this it?? I don't know. What did it bring? Only an event every nerd, hermit, recluse and cult has ever desired: The return of magic. I know.. fucking clich? right?
   It wasn't a grand event, and we here in the city really have no clue how or why it happened... thing is that it did and it happened almost exclusively in London. At first no one really took heed, but ever so slowly the reality of what had happened crept up on most of us. Tabloid magazines were where I and some of my pals first saw it. Werewolf pictures that were unforgivably realistic were showing up in those tabloids, after a few months homeless folks were disappearing like quarters out of a public fountain and then someone you knew somehow managed to cast an a piece of honest to god MAGIC magic. Soon enough weird things were happening all over the city and the people here quickly caught on.
   Riots? None. Witch Hunts? Very few at best. Doom sayers? Ehh.. they got more listeners than normal.. but every religion, crack pot cult and simple spiritual following out there all received a new wave of followers and people looking for guidance. Things got crazy alright, but not witch hunting crazy. Remember what I was saying up there about stoicism and London? The folks here took this new age, which they called the "Strange Times" in stride. For all of the xenophobic possibilities out there especially in a place like the States.. the Londoner folk proved again the power of their unbreakable spirit.. their terrible cool.
   When magic, or Karma as it should be properly called, returned it brought with it power. It brought creatures straight out of mythology.. to the creatures' credit they stayed out of sight or hid where we would never think to look. It brought with it a new era of change and events and remade the whole way most of us here look at this city that is our home. All of the stories that we took as metaphors or ghost tales to scare children with suddenly had real meaning and purpose. Folks dusted off the old pagan books and Christian bibles, adults and children alike were once again listening to their parents and grandparents, taking heed in the stories passed down for generations. Ethnic minority groups here in London, the ones with rich heritage they have kept close to heart, suddenly had quite a bit of power. They could protect their own.. you know those weird voodoo rituals meant to stave off bad spirits? Yeah.. they work and every mook around wants the secret to those kinds of wards.
   So here we are in the middle of a new world that ever so slowly washes out into the White Isles. A world of Karma, of spirits and awakening forces. We've got werewolves, we've got the "Wee folk," we've got quasi elf like things and nymphs and all of the pretty stuff. We don't have a lot of it mind you. It's not like this is a game of Shadowrun or some new video game world. A lot of the supernatural world is still coming to.. locked in slumber for countless millenia. We've also got ugly stuff.. like.. really ugly stuff. Fuck trolls and werewolves. With the return of the powers of myth has come a whole series of monsters that go bump in the night. The things your worst nightmares are made of, combined with the sickest shit drawn in fantasy. Don't even get me started on the oh-so-thankfully rare zombies. I'd rather fight an entire pack of werewolves than a single "Weeping Death" zombie.
   Anyways.. that leads to the question at hand. Who am I?
   I was born Conor McHugh. My land of birth was Ireland. My life was a simple one, my mother and father proud and generous people. We moved to America when I was 10 and lived life there for 7 years before I ran out on my parents. I fled to england and with almost no where to turn and no means to survive I did the only thing I could think of doing.. hell it was what I wanted to do anyways: Join the military.
   Eight years of service and three tours of duty gives you a lot of experience and exposes you to a lot of things, helps change your perspective on life and death. I joined the infantry and worked hard to be a part of special theater. I succeeded beyond my wildest dreams. Two military terms put me in the SAS, but I was honorably discharged. Paperwork states I was injured in the mountains of Pakistan during an ambush, I didn't argue. As for the career, successful as it was.. well I owe my success to two larger than life traits.
   First was that ever since I was young I always did things better... I was different, knew I was different, than my peers. I had more energy, more physical strength, more quickness and more willpower. I was an athlete in raw physical condition and didn't have to even try. It was like my blood pumped fire, like I wasn't even human compared to them. This had it's drawbacks though.. I drew conflict to me like moth to a flame.. somehow trying to beat me up was the way to prove you were tough shit. Never worked out for anyone though. I'm not saying I won every fight, no in fact I lost pretty consistently because I was always biting off more than I could chew... regardless, I still kicked ass and took names. Well all of that raw power I had was like a piece of pure iron ore.. I was just waiting for something or someone to forge me. The military did that... basic molded me, AIT shaped me and six years in that fucking pit truly melded me. By the time I was out of the military I felt like a blade fashioned from Damascus steel.
   The second: I was a pitiless killer. Name a life form and I've probably ended it's existence with neither hesitation nor remorse. Men, women, animals, hell even a kid or two. Now I don't murder folks. Anything I end I end for a good reason.. usually because it is shooting or chopping or punching at me first. The kids are a guess, I was fairly liberal with the collateral damage I caused on a few occasions. Don't ask me to feel bad: I won't. Even when my best friends of 10 years, guys I had known since before basic, started dying in Iraq I didn't cry or feel bad or anything. I drank to their memory, told stories and lived it up but I never felt hurt or sad or angry. To me death has never meant anything. We all die.. it is a natural and forgone conclusion: The only thing we are promised in life is death. The line between life and death has always been very thin to me. This turned into a mental readiness and even willingness to put folks six feet under. When you're a soldier or just trying to survive in a brutal environment.. this can make all the difference.
   Anyways.. after I was discharged I found I had fallen in love with the middle east. I traveled to all the holy cities of the Judea-Christian world. I went to the pyramids and the Sphinx, swam in the Nile and just totally lost myself in that world. When I was done I came to London. Truthfully I came to London because I knew I would find my destiny here.. I even knew what destiny looked like because I saw it.. became it.. back in Pakistan.
   That is who I am in a nutshell, and the things I have seen here.. done here.. would blow your world to pieces. Another question then might be what am I.
Me?.. I am Fireborn.