For centuries we've been at war. They used to rule us, but they were tyrants. They took and took and took till we could no longer stand it.

They said the things given to us by the gods were theirs. They were not.

Now we are at war. They call themselves the blessed, we call them demons. They walk among us one day, and the next they slaughter us.

But I am tired and so are the rest of us. Peace is what we yearn for, but they will not relent. They never will. So, we will fight until they do.

Or so I thought, until I saw him. His hair was as black as a moonless night, his eyes a royal purple, patches of iridescent scales that shimmered from his hair color to his eye color, and two ram horns that curled from the base of his skull into a perfect circle with the same shimmer as his scales.

He was more than beautiful, no words can describe him, but he was a demon and I am a human. He is the enemy. He is a terror.

He is their king and I am the queen of his enemies.

He is a terror.

He is a monster.

But I fell. And I will keep falling till the day I die. After all my mother warned me about free falling.