A/N:Hey guys this is my new story and its set about twenty years after night's child. Enjoy and review!

There comes a time in every witch's life when the idea of right and wrong becomes muddled. For me that time came early. When I was young, unprepared and remarkably naïve. For a witch like me, nothing is easy and that I learnt the hard way. I have lost everything I have ever cared about… and everyone. Even after all these years the wounds left by this pain have never faded. And now, forty-five years on, a new war is waging, a war I always new would come. The war against the dark side.

Morgan Niall, high priestess of Belwicket and member of the ring of thorns.

There were twenty- two members in the ring of thorns. They had been founded over twenty years ago, replacing the new charter. Their members had scattered into different dimensions, never to be seen again. They were all that was left, the last defence they had.

Since the war started (must be over twenty five years now) it has not been the same. Alliances have been broken, bonds shattered. This ring of members were the representatives from each clan of Wicca, from each creature known. The fey's (fairys), vampires, Lycan's, Witch's both blood and no, Mystics, Shamans, Hunters, Shifters, Demons, Humans, Half casts, many more still arriving.

Each member of the ring of thorns had a mark, a burn of a rose with blue blood weeping from it to identify who they were, of who their fealty was to. They fought for the good, they shunned the dark.

The room was old, with foundations from the early 1800s. A beautiful oak room that was now in ruin, what with all the attacks. This was were the ring of thorns had held their meetings for so many years. There was a round table, a great table were the members sat. In the dwindling light you could see this table, the runes carved into it now faded. The cracks, the burns. The pain of its members etched into the surface. The room was cooled faintly; through the open windows the sky was dark. It was always dark now, had been dark for years. It had been so long since they had seen daylight. From one candle came the light the filed the room.

The members were quiet, unsure as to how to proceed. There had been another attack last night. A family had been butchered. A wiccan family. The dark side had been for years tying to gain supporters. They had killed not only the mother and father but also three of the four children. The fourth, who which they had no name, was alive but only just. He was young maybe thirteen or fourteen and had been the eldest of the children.

The mother and father's heart had been cut out and had been burned. The children's bodies were found in the parent's bedroom cut to pieces. Each body had red burn marks etched into them saying they had been tortured, no doubt as to the whereabouts of the secret mansion were the light creatures hid during the day. In the corner sat the boy. He wasn't able to talk and it was doubtful that he ever would again. The ring of thrones had been to late to save them. Save for the boy.

" The attacks are getting worse," A vampire named Gabriel said. He had long golden hair and the electric blue colour eyes common to his kind. His fangs had retracted. He seemed subdued and when a vampire was subdued you didn't want to investigate.

" We must do something," said an unusual woman next to Gabriel. She was an odd creature, with blue hair and eyes flaming red. She was a mystic, a creature that opened portals into other dimensions. Scarcely human if not at all.

Mystics had been the first to join with the witches, since they were alike in their magickal abilities. They had understood the cost of a power like that. With the mystics as their alliances two witches had formed the ring of thorns. With this alliance new forces had banded together, the Lycans and Vampires for one who for years had been waging a private war of there own. But the need to band together outweighed their dislike of the other. The vampires were a silent group saying little at meetings, but their resources were unlimited and useful, they had contact with all creatures. They had their ear to the ground, so to speak.

The Lycans were strong, killers in instinct. But for the most part acted human twenty-eight days out of the month. The other three they were locked in Magickal cages underneath the earth that the witches had provided In return for their allegiance. With these four banded they had been able to keep the attacks at bay, the Vampires and Lycans (when they weren't fighting or bickering or making snide comments at the other) proved useful as reinforcements.

The fey's who had control over the ice element also fought for the ring of thorns. They had been the most reluctant to join and had been in an allience by contract with the black witches but had joined the good side.

Maenads, evil creatures that guarded the infamous insane aylsm Maenad Berg (home of the maenad) were also from that alliance. The hunters or more commonly known as seekers (from the old system of government the council) had also joined though they had already fought for the witches and had had mixed loyalties to both the dark and light. They were scarce but were well trained in capturing and in some cases recapturing dark witches. Some dark witches had been captured during the war, they were held as information units and they used them as spies. The old council was dead- and buried since early 2007. Along time ago. Almost forty years. In its place the new charter had taken over replacing it. Then twenty years ago, when the war had started they had disbanded, as it had proved all too much for them. The ring of thorns had taken over though not as a governing system or rehabilitation but as a resource when people needed help, capture of dark witches and protection for members.

The alliance had grown to include all creatures, whoever wanted to join did and they had been able to withstand constant attack on all their worlds, in all dimensions until recently, when a spy had been uncovered who for more than three years had been passing information to the other side. They had killed the spy once they had found out. They had been unable to fend of attacks since then and the casualty count had climbed. Since the war started the had counted over 50,000 deaths.

All this had brought the members here, to this place. The two witches that had founded (with help) were the most famous of all witches and the ones most sought out for help. They were Morgan and Hunter Niall. Not much was known about either of them, except that they had founded the ring of thorns over twenty years ago. That they were husband and wife and that they had a family together. A rather large family, consisting of themselves, their four children and two grandchildren. The ring of thorns had many departments. A training department among them were young witches or any other creature could train under the supervision of Hunter Niall himself and his daughter Moira Delaney married to Ian Delaney, one of the lead members of the circle. They trained them for battle, for war. In weaponry, magick, fighting skills and much more.

Morgan Niall was a trained healer, in all areas of magick. She lead the original Belwicket coven, was their high priestess until Amyranth who joined the dark side, an old coven of witches that had disbanded long ago. Maybe sixty years? Who knows? They had joined with the maenad and other creatures to form Riaghan. (Re- ag like hag but without the H- han)

Morgan had a team of healers with her that cared for those who had been hurt in battle. She was mostly at the infirmary during the say and at ring of thorn meetings at night. Though it was hard to tell when day ended and night began.

When the war started it had only been light witches against dark but then the dark side had recruited Maenads, things that made you go mad, that possesses a pure madness that enters you. Then the good had had to find allies in order to fight them. They tried to fight them on their own ground were possible but it was difficult.

Two witches were seated at the table hooded and cloaked. There heads bent talking to each other quietly. There faces were hidden but the members new who they were, they were their leaders, their founders, their friends Morgan and Hunter Niall. Morgan's hands were decorated in black stems of rosebushes, they were beautifully painted and clearly she had done them herself as a symbol that she was the high priestess of her coven. Though now Belwicket was little more than a shadow, a memory: only six members had survived the war.

Morgan sighed and Hunter looked at her once more, his eyes, though once had held colour were now grey. Morgan's eyes could be seen from under her hood; they looked sad.

" We will send a squad, they left traces, there was a struggle. The werevolves should be able to pick up on scents left behind," she said but as her face showed no emotion, her emotions inside felt like a whirlwind.

She closed her eyes, her husband looked once again at her. He put his hand on hers and she smiled gratefully at him.

" We will send a squad," he repeated decisively still holding Morgans hand. " Tactical team as well just to be safe"

" What is to be done about the boy?" A fey asked dressed in white lace. He looked more like a vampire than a fairy he looked so pale.

Morgan seemed to be elsewhere when she answered, " I will treat him. But from what I have seen he's in a state"

Morgan and hunter glanced at one again " This hour, two nights from now we will meet again. This secrecy is regrettable but necessary" Hunter said his hand moving from Morgan's he stood up.

"Take care" Morgan whispered as she followed Hunter out the door. Each member stood up as they left wondering for what purpose next would they meet.