"I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!"

Quote, Heathcliff, Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë.

The First Prophecy:

Born into love shall be the child of midnight,

Born into death shall be the child of dawn,

Love bound and yet forbidden, fated to be broken

And so fated to be the ruin of the world.

Prelude:
The Prince

I am the last of my kind. I was brought up for war and all my days I have lived for it. How many lives have I taken? More than she would care to know. I remember every one; I regret none of them. How can I dare regret them? There are so many more to come.

So yes, I am the last of my kind. After the truce, the elves gave up hope, hiding the king and his court below ground I do not doubt, and so the warriors had no need to continue as they were. They are gone now – none are dead, but all are gone. Of course the king's guards are still there – he would not risk living undefended – but they were not of my kind. They were raised to protect, whereas I was, by my very birth, meant to kill and attack and kill…until the day I am myself dead.

Though I speak of death and war, the lack of both of those aspects to my life have not been the chief cause of my pain throughout these two thousand bitter years. I long to see her again. I long to see my beloved sister, Nuala, she who I learned of too late. Our love is irrecoverable, but she was wrong that day by the Golden Army. I am the one who can never pull away, I am the one who can think of loving no other. All other living beings are worthless to me; she casts a shadow upon every one. Her life is precious to me.

I left Nuala out of pride – because I had to. I vanished from knowledge and sight just like she and our father did, but now things are changing. This world has left us behind, spiralling on and on in time on a reckless fall to its destruction. Humanity drives it on, with no balance, no care, just greed and a hollow heart. This cannot go on, they all must die, and I know no other way but the worst of all.

With a heavy heart I realise I am the last of my kind and I can never break away. I can still feel the weakness those men caused, the sickness, the headfirst fall of mine to hatred and revenge. Nothing can turn me from this course, not even the knowledge that Nuala is well and safe. I cannot break away from the need for vengeance; she understands that…

So now I give in, now I embrace all of my anger and all of my pain knowingly, whole-heartedly. Many more deaths await.

We are the last of our kind. I see now what our father meant when he said 'A Seer too caring for her own good and a Warrior too vengeful for his own sanity…together what could you become?' Only he did not understand the truth of his own words. We could be at peace, even in hiding and broken pride, we would be at peace in love. We, Nuala and I, are the last of our kind. The trees will know no other love like ours…and the world will know no other hatred like mine.