The prologue is my first revision… so if you're seeing this then it has been re-done. Also this story would have completely stopped if not for Liz who reminds me why I write every time I talk to her. You're a doll dear!

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Otherwise hang in there, I swear this will be done before you know it. And the new chapter is being worked on!

Disclaimer: I do now own SM I do however own the concept of my story. Nothing else! The plot line is mine, do not steal it. However feel free to use anything else, they aren't mine to deal with in the first place.

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Prologue

They were the hunters; they were the hunted. The Prince's of darkness, they ruled the night. No man could resist them; no woman tried. A curse that should have killed them only made them stronger….

Coldness, it was the first thought that reached his already numbing mind, and soul. It was bloody cold up here in the north, unlike the sunlight of the south that he had grown up with. A normal human being would have been killed long ago from the amount of time he had spent in this weather. It was a harsh world it was live or die out here. Protect yourself from the elements, or perish.

He could return to the warmth of the stone castle behind him, if what one found inside the dismal halls could be called that. He was no fool, but the cold reminded him of what his soul seemed to echo. An icy depth that never seemed to end, and continued to torment his mind, he was no novice to the cold or to the pain that came with it. Instead of hiding from it, however, he embraced it.

He had loved the storms of his child hood home, a home now hidden from him as the world around him.  This storm however had an unnatural feel to it, which was making him uneasy. He had never trusted the ice and snow as he had the thunder and lighting. It had its benefits he was sure. He just was not aware of them.

Now if only one of them could learn to command it, the way that they had learned to command the rest of the earth. Zach had said that it was impossible because the earth did not control such things. It created it not controlled it. In the old legends it had belonged to the children of the other planets. Justin was still not sure if he was making it to save his skin from Kunzite or not.

Kunzite who could chill thousands of armies with one glance of those steel grey eyes, Justin did not fear him, but he had a healthy respect for the man. He had worked hard and learned to control much of his power years of training had provided them with that.  

They were all masters of their chosen gift. A gift the Goddess of the Earth had provided them with. Determination had been there own skill, power had been her gift. Especially to Endymion, last of her heirs, and son of her might, he was her only chosen one, who had the power to control her crystal, the symbol of all her might.

"Justin," Nathan's calm cool voice intoned, breaking the spell that night had held over him. "Come inside, someone is here for a meeting, and the council wishes for us to be present." His tone was scornful, belaying without words, exactly what he thought of the council.

Turning to the taller, more powerful man, he nodded "I am coming." He stated smoothly, his tone slightly arrogant, and for a moment in time the lighting reflected in his blue eyes, making them as deep as the dark sea. As the power of the nature around him, seemed to spring forth, casting an eerie glow about his golden head.

The fire seemed to spread, and for a moment, both men were illuminated, as the bond between them seemed to intensify. It always happened with Nathan and his lighting. Something he had always admired. Whenever it was around, you could practically feel it pulsating off the man. The bond that connected the four of the glowing and flashing as the night sky light, so did they.

Following Nathan towards the throne room he shook his head. More and more people were here to make demands on Endymion, and now after the war there really was nothing to give them. They could not be who they had been before the war, now they were cold, hard and calculated. Making them understand the changes was proving to be a difficult talk however.

The commotion in the court room was not from a peasant however, he noticed, but from an old woman, who to Justin, looked like she could be about a hundred years old.

 
Nodding at Endymion, he arched an eyebrow at his old friend, who was barely managing to keep an annoyed expression off his face.

"That is my gift to you." She stated again, her eyes glowing with something that Justin could not easily identify.

"No thank you Milady." Endymion said calmly. "We can not accept this, it would not be fair to you, and we would never be able to repay the debt."

"They have been at this for almost and hour." Zach softly muttered to Justin, while brushing a curly piece of hair out of his face once again.

"Why has he not demanded she leave yet?" Justin questioned the three men beside him.

Nathan snorted, "Would you? She looks like she fixing to break in a second, I think he is hoping she will just give up so he doesn't have to get mean with her… she is told old to handle it."

"She may not be as old as she appears." Kunzite murmured. His grey eyes taking in the situation with a detach ness that worried Justin, he only got like that when he was preparing for battle.

Turning his gaze back to the old women in front of him he shook his head, what threat could she be?

"Lady," Endymion started his tone becoming snappish as the women finally started to wear on his nerves. His blue eyes were shinning with irritation that had finally broken to the surface as he glared down at the women.

"Do not Lady me." She snapped fury on her face as her red eyes glowed with a un-holly light. "I shall not be denied again."

"Lady," he tried again only to have her break into his speech again.

"From this day forth," Her voice echoed around the room, her appearance changing drastically. Her white hair glowed red, as if someone had taken blood and poured it over her hair. Her smile becoming feral and cold, "You and your people will live off the lives of others, never ending, and you will only walk the night, except for you, and your guards. For you shall be allowed to walk to day, to see the curse that has become your people. The night shall rule your lives, and nothing but the blood of the people can cure you." She snarled.

Dark magic surrounded the room, as it become enough for him to breath, and to see, as it pushed against him. He momentarily fought it, before pain flooded his system, and his senses seemed to flee him. Instead of falling into the dark however, something exploded behind his eyes, and he fell to his knees, as his own screams assailed his ears.

 
Struggling to bring in a breath of air to his tortured lungs, he fought blind panic as he realized they no longer responded to his call. The only sound that he could hear was that of his heart -which seemed it be rapidly fading from his hearing - and a woman's laugh. A laugh that was cold, and filled with bitter triumph!  A sharp twinge attacked his mouth, sending his mind reeling, as he fought the agony that seemed to fill his soul. 

Something was placed in his arms, though his eyes did not recognize it. His senses were dulled, and he felt as if he was a new born kitten, blind, deaf, dumb. Something was beating, calling to him however, as his body seemed to completely take over. Instinct driving him to greater depths than even he had imagined, a silent, hidden call, that he could not refuse to answer.

Pain flooded his mouth again, and he felt something soft move to his lips, and then rich liquid seemed to poor itself down his throat. The taste was different, and he quickly found himself becoming addicted to it. His body demanded it, and he gave in to the power of it. He did not know what it was, or where it came from, but he drank, until not even his still parched lips could find more.

And then the darkness came, and he recognized it for what it was, desperately fighting it. He was powerless, for the first time in his life, to stop anything. As the dark inkiness swept his soul, he gave him, his mind and body no longer his own. All he could do was old on to what he could of his soul, and pray to whatever might be listening.

As the darkness finally seemed to retract, hide, and leave him in peace he slowly opened his blue eyes. Pain reflected their, as he looked around the room, his first concern for his Prince. Before he was able to raise his head a hunger filled him, a hunger that he would only to soon would be realized as a hunger for life. A hunger for innocence, a hunger for what he, Jason, could never have again.

His soul.