Prologues

Monsters are not born, they are made.

This is the story about the creation of the monsters that haunt your nightmares. The true beginnings of the creatures that star in your campfire stories and keep your children awake at night. Because every legend you have heard is true. Every monster you are afraid of is real.

But they weren't always monsters.

In fact they used to be the farthest thing from it. They used to be just like you and me. And that is where our story begins, back before curses and rituals and sacrifice, back before every story that you have ever heard about these monsters. Consider it an origin of the species if you will.

And it starts in a very small village with two very different girls…

From the time they were very young the first snow of the year stirred different feelings in the hearts of the two Princesses of the village of the first men.

The 2 daughters of Jonathan the conqueror, the man who in his youth sailed their people to this new land for protection from the diseases of the old world and Elizabeth the just who brokered peace between her native villagers and the new settlers of this land, finding love with each other as they did. The couple was happily married, uniting the old and new world together and bearing 2 children. 2 daughters who could not look or be more different from each other.

First born was Elena- vastly considered to be the most beautiful woman in the village- or if you asked one of her many suitors- the world. Elena is the perfect princess; compassionate and loving but still independent minded. Able to follow rules and do as she is told but not weak. Elena saw the snow as a harbinger of hard times each year when it fell, a symbol that harvesting was over, plentiful food was a thing of the past, and warm summer sheaths needed to be stocked away to make room for thick fur coats. It meant long nights, short days and the absence of bright red little flowers that she loved to braid into her thick, dark hair. She loves those flowers, and though she pretends to blush and a part of her hates the attention, she also loves it when one of the young men in the village smiles shyly and hands one of those flowers to her. Those same men who always think they need to protect her, who treat her like she is as delicate as one of those flowers. But she is not. She is Elena Petrova, strength and Justice are her legacy, sealed with the marriage of her parents and solidified with her birth. The first true creation of the old and new world.

Second born was Carolina Petrova, known to the village only as Caroline, which has always seemed to suit the young princess better. It seemed stronger, more sure, more, well… Caroline. The younger princess is every bit as beautiful as her older sister, but somehow incapable of staying in one place long enough for a suitor to take notice, which is just fine by her. Caroline learned at a very young age that it was useless to try and compete with Elena in anything, least of all men. Fortunately, she also learned that both her parents and the entire village seemed to care far less about her, which she quickly managed to work to her advantage. Caroline was wild and free and full of life, she snuck out of the small palace meant to keep her in at every chance she got. She pushed the bounds of the village and the woods surrounding it farther every day. To her winter was a symbol of freedom, of fresh powder that could fall instantly and cover her tracks behind her, of animals changing colors and making the hunt that much more satisfying, of stupid predators- man or beast- trying to take advantage of the cold and the snow to hide their tracks and attack her or her village, and of all of them- every, single one, falling with dead eyes under her spear. Carolina Petrova is capable of protecting herself, and she knows it because no man would ever get near enough to her to try and protect her. She would not allow it.

The two sisters could not be more different, rulers of the Summer and the Winter. One constantly looking up to the sun, the other down to cover her tracks, born only a year apart but complete opposites. Despite these differences, the two girls have always been close. They both love and fight each other in the all-consuming way that only sisters truly can.

This story is not only about these sisters, however. There is an entire village of men and women- young and old who were born on these lands or came here seeking refuge. The strong and handsome Salvatore brothers, as different from each other as the sisters themselves, brought to the new world in Damon's infancy and while Stefan was still growing in his mother's womb. Both brothers deeply in love with princess Elena and the younger the closest friend that Caroline has ever had. The witch Sheila and her granddaughter Bonnie, one of the oldest families in this new world and the most advanced practitioners of the magic that many old families practice within the village, the younger one a dear friend to both princesses.

Then there is the new family. They have been here nearly a decade, but anyone who did not come on the ships that Jonathan lead or was not born upon this soil is considered to be new. Esther and Mikael came to this new world and fit themselves- along with the many children they had or would have into the village quite well. Esther is a dear friend of Sheila, nearly as practiced in the magic of the village as Sheila herself. They did fit well into the village, but few could miss Mikael's outbursts at his sons when they fought.

At the outset of our tale, the younger princess has not met this new-er family, given that she uses the village as more of a through point between the palace and the woods, not stopping to chat along the way.

In truth this story begins the way that many others do, it begins when a boy meets a girl.

In the many centuries that come to follow the creation of this village there is a single event that will change and define our world forever. The meeting of Carolina Petrova and Niklaus Mikaelson will be regarded as a catalyst to either the most incredible or horrifying sequence of events that shall ever befall this earth, depending upon whose version of the story you believe.

Personally, I advocate that the truth is always somewhere in the middle…