Prologue

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"And they left in certain epochs to hunt for enemies;
they called it the sacred war."
Julio Cortazar, The Night Face Up

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France, 1249

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The woman was running through the dark field, running as fast as she could. Every once in a while she turned to look behind her, where she could see the light from their torches, where she made out the sound of distant voices.

She turned and ran towards the woods, hoping to escape her followers in their midst.
The woman was tired, but she kept running, clutching something to her chest. Her dark hair was moving wildly around her and there was great determination in the features of her young face.

As she reached the trees of the woods, she glanced back once more and drew in her breath; she had obviously slowed her pace, she could make out their figures now. The woman made her way through the trees with ease, nearing her destination.

A few more minutes and she would be there. When she finally saw it, the small altar, she sighed with relief; she would be safe now, They would protect her. The woman kneeled and brushed some leafs of the stone with one hand, the other still holding her burden tightly.

When she uncovered it and placed it on the altar's stone, the moonlight shone over its leathern covers, for it was a book. The woman placed both her hands on the book and closed her eyes. Concentration and awe were etched on her face as she spoke softly.

"Oh, Lilith, reine de la nuit,
Sombre vierge du foret,
Aide moi, sauve moi !
Protége l'œuvre sacre,
Protége la des persécuteurs.

Que son pouvoir soit éteint,
Jusqu'au jour de la réunion,
La réunion avec les siens.
Oh, Lilith, je t'invoque,
Soulève ton orage pour moi."

Author's (far too long) Note:

I can't believe I'm starting this…it's bound to become a rather long story (longer than what I've ever planned to write but…) and I hope you'll find it interesting.
The next chapter will, of course, introduce the characters mentioned in the summary.

The quotation in the beginning is a personal translation so it might be inaccurate. I strongly recommend that short story, Julio Cortazar is amazing!

The two passages in French (I hope they're correct, French is not my native language…well nor is English) mean:

Oh, Lilith, queen of the night,
Dark virgin of the forest,
Help me, save me!
Protect the sacred work,
Protect it from the persecutors.

May it's power fade away
Until the day of the reunion,
The reunion with it's kin.
Oh, Lilith, I invoke you,
Rise your storm for me.

And Lilith is "a mythological female Mesopotamian storm demon associated with wind. Lilith appears as a night demon in Jewish lore and as a screech owl in the King James version of the Bible." (Wikipedia)

Edit: I forgot to say that the actual year, 1249 is of no importance. The numbers, however... 12 and 49 are considered magical numbers, 49 is actually supposed to be the most magical number because it's actually 7x7!