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On a dark night, with nothing but the flashes of lightening to cast any illumination on the small village nestled against the side of a large, black volcanic mountain, a child was born. Small, pale, the child was, and silent as the grave. The only signs that she was anything other than human was the glowing pale blue eyes, and her abnormally long fangs. Rowan, the priestess of the Dark Witch Coven, mother of the new born child, named her Zannah.
The village Zannah was born into was an unusual one, and no other like it was found in all the land. It was made up of a group of people, of various races, and genders, who possessed the gift of natural sorcery. Those with this power had a special connection to a various element be it Earth, Fire, Water, or Wind. There was one other element that beings with this power could control, but finding someone with the connection to it was rare, and even when found their connection and power were limited and they never achieved much. However, from an early age Zannah showed the greatest power for controlling electricity that anyone had ever seen. As she grew all came to respect Zannah, and her abilities, and knew she would become the next priestess of their order.
The Dark Witch Coven, was located on the outskirts of the Queen’s territory. It little mattered who sat on the throne of the Queendom at that particular time, the Witch Coven was always hated, and feared. Though born out of an ancient war between two very powerful sorcerers, the Dark Witch Coven had been founded for those who found the rules and regulations of the Sorcerer’s University to be too limiting of their power. Because of the fear that the Monarchy had of those with this gift they were limited in what they were allowed to do, and how they allowed exist and use their power within the Queendom. This had lead to the battle, and the Dark Witch Coven was founded.
Since then the Monarchy, along with the higher-archy of the Sorcerer’s University had sought to destroy the Dark Witch Coven, but the Witches had always seen any attack, or any sort of subterfuge before it could do them any damage. They grew stronger as more and more people with “the Gift” sought them out, and learned their ways of maximizing the abilities of those who sought them out. However, despite the fact that men were permitted to join the coven, never before had two members of the Dark Witch Coven, combine to conceive a child, until the conception of Zannah.
Zannah learned all this history and more, as well as focusing in on how to fight with a sword, as well as her natural abilities, which far surpassed anyone else in the village. Through Zannah, members of the Coven saw the order surviving for thousands of years, but they were very, very wrong.


For years the High Council of the Sorcerer’s University had been trying to place one of their own close to the throne. Secretly they wanted a way to control the Queendom’s military so that they could launch one massive sweep to wipe out the Dark Witch Coven forever. Ever since the large battle that had split the Sorcerer community, the University had always viewed the Coven as a threat to them, and all they stood for. So they’d tried for generations to get as close as they could to the throne, but they were always thwarted, or kept in check by other members of the Queen’s privy council, but now they had something they never dreamed was possible. Shortly after attaining maturity, the time when anyone with a natural ability for witch-craft, or “the Gift” as it was called, would be able to use their powers to the full extent possible. It was when the Queen turned seventeen that she was brought before the High Council of the University and tested by her mother in secret. The Council members were astonished, and confirmed what the old Queen had been fearing; The future Queen had a very powerful connection to the powers and natural forces that enabled people to use witch-craft.
The Council took on the future Queen’s education personally, teaching her in private, and constantly reminding her that she would one day be on the throne, and be in the perfect position to destroy the University’s greatest threat: the Dark Witch Coven. Now, nearly eighteen years later, it looked as though that was finally going to happen. The Queen, who’s power the Council had groomed, had seen the destruction of the Dark Witch Coven in a dream, and had started putting things in motion that would cause the eventual downfall, and extermination of the rival clan.
The University threw their full support behind the Queen’s efforts, recommending that she make a temporary alteration to their constitution allowing those with “the Gift” to serve in the military as commanders, and to use their abilities to fight the Dark Witches. The High Council meanwhile was working hard to mask every move that the Monarchy made so that the Dark Witch Coven would not foresee their movements and take steps to defend against it.
The planning took years but finally nearly four years after the Queen’s initial dream, the army was ready. They were retrained, and refitted with new equipment, as well as commanded by the Masters of the Sorcerer’s University. It was time for the Queen to once again use her all seeing eye and try to predict their outcome.


Zannah had recently turned eighteen, and had reached full maturity. In her trials before the Priestesses of the Coven, Zannah had shown them a display of power that they had never seen before. She had unlocked a secret of their abilities that no one had realized possible before, and had convinced the Priestesses that it was possible for all with “the Gift” to achieve simply if they centered themselves and stretched out to connect with their element and become one with it. That ability was to channel one’s element into their weapon and their fighting style. It was most effective for those who’s element was fire, or electricity, but not impossible for any of the others.
Zannah had also taken the teachings of the Dark Witch Coven in a new direction, grounding their power not in nature, or in the peaceful center of their being, but in their emotions, in their passions. Their passions made them stronger, which is part of what had made Zannah seem so powerful. The Priestesses had ordered this change in policy implemented immediately, but soon removed it because it was causing the members of the coven to start plotting and/or attacking one another in the interest of becoming more powerful.
Zannah, now a full member of the Dark Witch Coven, was not afraid to speak out against the repealing of this way of teaching. She called them cowardly, afraid of the natural rivalries that power created, and that to allow the strong to destroy the weak was natural, and should be allowed to continue because it made the Coven stronger. The Priestesses did not agree.
Zannah stormed out of the tent, and walked up to a place that had been her place of meditation since she was a very young girl; the cemetery on the side of the mountain. She knelt, and began to slip into a meditative state, communicating with the spirits and natural forces that gave her, her gift and her power. Slowly the dim light of day slipped away, as if being sucked up by the horizon, and the cool winds of night began to blow in a few clouds.
As Zannah eased herself out of her meditation the full moon cast it’s white light down upon her and the rest of her village. Everyone went around as though nothing were wrong, but Zannah felt unease. She wanted to slip back into her meditations to contemplate what was causing the apprehension she had suddenly felt, but there wasn’t time. The veil that the Masters of the Sorcerer’s University had been using to mask their movements against the Dark Witch Coven fell and thousands of armored soldiers became visible, surrounding the Coven’s village.
Zannah screamed and began rushing down the hill as the soldiers attacked. They stormed into houses and dragged witches out by their hair, their collars, anything they could grab and began murdering them. The Witches fought back as best they could, using their powers, but they were blocked or weakened by the presence of the Master Sorcerers.
One of the Priestesses screamed as a Master held her head in both of his hands and focused in on the woman’s mind, preventing her from invoking any incantations to prevent the soldiers who had dragged her from her home, from raping her again and again until she began bleeding.
Another cried out as a soldier cut the throat of her nine-year-old daughter, who reached out for her mother in one gargling moment before falling lifeless. The mother then invoked an incantation but the spell was weakened by a nearby Master.
Zannah arrived with her sword drawn and slammed the blade through the back of one of the soldiers. It was a long thick, slightly curved blade, much like those of oriental swords, and as she pulled it out, the sound of metal on metal was loud but was drown out by the screams of the witches.
Bon fires were lit as soldiers began to drag the women to them and tie them to stakes to watch them burn. The women shrieked, and it seemed that even the bodies of the dead, which were being thrown on the blazes too, were screaming. The Masters had ordered this, convincing the soldiers that the only way to ensure the race was completely exterminated was to burn every body.
Zannah moved through the village killing every soldier she came across. She felt this throbbing pressure in her mind, but ignored it. She knew it was the Masters trying to stop her, but she was too powerful. She’d given herself over to the rage, that burned inside of her. She moved on a Master, who made a valiant effort to block her. He focused his power, chanting incantation after incantation, but Zannah was much too strong. Her eyes burned blue, and as she closed within arm’s reach of the man she reached out with her hands, one on each side of his head, and through gritted teeth she simply said, “Burn.” Her voice was low, and almost sounded like a growl, but as soon as she said it, the man began to scream and pat at himself, and roll around on the ground. He continued to do this, tearing off his clothes, and rubbing himself all over, until he began to become raw from the constant friction. Finally he dropped to the ground, rolling, but the dirt and rocks only causing him more skin irritation and blood began to soon ooze from him.
Zannah did not stay to watch this, she turned and with one swing of her sword, sent a soldier’s head flying. She moved quickly, using her powers, and her rage to give her strength. A sword clashed with hers, but with another swing, the rival blade broke and flew through the air as the man gave himself over to Zannah’s rage filled blood lust.
Soldier after soldier fell at Zannah’s hand. Several Masters, too, fell, or were simply driven insane by some horrible image or feeling that Zannah sent into their minds. As Zannah continued her bloody swath of vengeance, the clouds began to build, and thicken around the village.
Zannah came up behind one man, and placed her hand on his shoulder. Within moments the man was shaking uncontrollably as thousands of volts of electricity flowed from Zannah’s hand into the man’s body.
Two Masters rushed at her both trying to get into mind to block her abilities. Zannah simply looked up at them, as a large blue ball of electricity, formed by Zannah’s strong will, and all consuming rage, formed in her right hand. She lifted her hand up and moved it forward, heaving the energy ball forward. It struck one of them in the chest, throwing him backwards into one of the fires, but he was dead long before he hit the flames. To the second Master, Zannah picked him up, using telekinetic power, and slammed him onto the top of one of the stakes. The man flailed for several minutes, before falling limp and silent.
Zannah rounded another corner, consumed by a burning hate. She was going to kill every soldier, and Master in this village, no matter how long it took. She knew that she had directly disobeyed the Priestesses by allowing her emotions to fuel her, but she no longer cared. The survival of their order depended on it.
An arm reached out and grabbed her ankle. Zannah turned suddenly, her black hair, with it’s white highlights spinning, as it flowed uncontrolled making her look even more insane. She was about to bring up her blade to slam down on the soldier who had grabbed her when she realized it was a woman’s hand. She knelt, knowing it had to be one of the Coven members. She followed the hand into the house that it had come from to find, perhaps, the most traumatizing sight she’d yet seen; Her own mother.
Rowan lay on the ground, a hand over her stomach, which had been ripped open by one of the soldiers. Her skirts lay torn to shreds and the few pieces of material that were left were soaked in blood coming from between her legs. Zannah knelt and lifted her mother’s torso in her arms. She began to say the words of a healing spell that she’d been taught when her mother’s hand rested on her daughter’s lips. Zannah fought back tears.
“You must leave. Gather everyone you can and escape. Find somewhere else to settle.” Rowan said weakly, her breath becoming labored as she bled, “You must ensure the order survives, Zannah. It’s up to you now.”
“No, Mamma, no!” Zannah mumbled, through her sadness.
“Go, my child.” Rowan said, “I will see you again. Don’t worry. Death is only the beginning.” With those words, Rowan died. As her last breath left her, her body disappeared in Zannah’s arms, leaving her holding only Rowan’s torn, blood soaked dress.
Tears fell on Zannah’s cheeks, and as she stood up and heard the voices of the soldiers she stormed out of her mother’s house, the rage burning more powerfully inside her than ever before. She wanted to kill them all, more now than she had before. Never had she felt this way, she felt her power, white hot inside her, She felt herself giving into it, and it felt like nothing she’d ever known before. But even with all this, Rowan’s words continued to echo in her head. Zannah had to try and rescue everyone she could so their order would survive. The Queen would not have her way this night.
Two soldiers rushed up to grab Zannah. She lifted them both in the air using her mind, and ripped their blades away from them. She raised her hands and uttered a few words as lightening shot from her fingers, and struck them both, throwing them into spasms in the air. Finally she used her mind to take hold of the soldiers’ blades and sent them flying at them, each blade taking the head of it’s former owner. With that the bodies dropped.
Zannah walked away from her mother’s home and saw the flashes of a group of witches using the skills she had developed to channel their fire into their blades. One used a staff, flames encompassing two ends of it, with a small area in the center for the owners to wield without burning themselves. The other witch had a sword, much like Zannah’s encompassed in flames also.
Zannah rushed over, only to realize that the Masters of the University knew how to use their elements the same way. The Witch with the staff, who Zannah recognized as her teen-age friend Maura, was holding off two Masters, both of them in their mid thirties at most, the other, who Zannah recognized as Maura’s sister Lizzy, held off a much older man. Maura was tiring, And Zannah quickly realized that her friend was in danger of becoming overwhelmed by her opponents.
Zannah rushed up behind them and with outstretched fingers, shot electricity at both of Maura’s opponents. They both stunned for a moment allowing Maura to get out of the corner they had backed her into. One of the Masters she’d been fighting turned, very staggered and brought up his blade. To Zannah’s amazement the blade merely burned with larger flames as it absorbed the electricity Zannah shot from her fingers. Her features tightened as she abandoned her electrical attacks, and re-drew her sword. The blade was plain metal until she uttered the words and channeled the electricity through her fingers, that soon encased her blade in a blue light with what looked like small bolts of lightening shooting here and there through out the blade.
Maura moved forward and re-engaged one of the Masters with her staff, while Zannah engaged the other. The group fought fiercely for several moments, but Zannah had other tricks up her sleeve. She was not only the most powerful witch the Coven had ever encountered; Zannah had become an expert swordswoman. As such it didn’t take long for her to overpower the young Master and finish him with a quick thrust of her blade.
As the Master fell, shaking from both the wound in his chest and the intense electrical shock that was given to him from the electricity surrounding Zannah’s blade, she moved onto the other Master who was overpowering Lizzy. She reached up and gripped the back of the Master’s head with both hands. His grey hair feeling somewhat oily, most likely from the sweat, and gripped hard. She closed her eyes as the man tried to fight both her, and Lizzy. Once Zannah was sure she had made a link to the Master’s mind, she began to fill his head with the images of his worst fears, as well as making him believe that every enemy soldier in camp was that, which he feared most.
As Zannah released him, he picked up his weapon and charged at a group of soldiers, who looked at him, confused, until he struck one of them down, and then they had no chance but to kill him.
“Get to the side of the Volcano, quickly!” Zannah said, “The cemetery, meet me there.” With that Zannah rushed back into the village to find whomever she could find that was alive. On and on she searched, but all she found were dead bodies, and the never ending sea of soldiers, which she took great pleasure in dispatching as many as possible.
After what felt like minutes, but was really several hours, and several passes of the village, Zannah heard her mother’s voice suddenly, echoing around, as though she were projecting it from a mysterious location, “It’s too late, Zannah. Run with who you can.”
Zannah only paused a moment before rushing off to the cemetery where she expected to find Maura and Lizzy, instead she found Maura’s staff, and that was it. Zannah feared that they had been taken by the enemy, but she dared not rush back into the village. She looked down at the village that she’d called home. It was completely over-run by soldiers, and the fires were burning, as they continued to stack the bodies of the dead on them. Zannah’s breath suddenly increased, and from above her the clouds darkened and lightening shot from them, striking the ground hard. Suddenly, as though triggered from somewhere deep inside her, Zannah let out a scream of pure and unadulterated rage. As she did this, an energy ball, larger than any she’d ever used, or ever seen used, formed in her hand. She could feel the weight of it, the heat of the electricity feeding off her growing rage. With a quick movement, she sent it flying down into the village, causing several buildings to catch fire, and a half a dozen soldiers to instantly die of electric shock.
Finally, with nothing but a desire to exact revenge upon those who had completely ruined her way of life, Zannah darted over the Volcano and into the woods, disappearing.
When the soldiers marched out of the village that had once housed the proud Dark Witch Coven, they believed that everyone was dead. The village had been burned to the ground, and every body of every witch had been burned to ash. For their fallen comrades, the soldiers dug a cemetery nearby in a clearing, and their memory would forever be honored as those who had died to protect the Queendom from it’s greatest threat. What they didn’t realize is they had not destroyed the Coven, only made it stronger.


Shortly after the destruction of the Coven, the Queen was assassinated by a mysterious group of radicals, at least that’s what the official papers and reports said. Truth was the High Council of the Sorcerer’s University had decided that the Queen had fulfilled her purpose to them and that now she only posed a threat to their power and their way of life. The throne would then pass to her niece, who was only seventeen at the time, and had to rely on the High Council for advice in all her decisions. The High Council of the Sorcerer’s University had what they wanted.
As for Zannah’s missing friends, they weren’t captured by the soldiers, not that night anyway. The assassin who had killed the queen, at the request of the High Council had been Lizzy, who had hired herself out as a bounty hunter. During that time she’d bore a child with a Wood Elf in the northern forests. The High Council had discovered her presence and had hired her to kill the Queen, arrested her for the assassination, and then executed her, burning her dead corpse.
Maura slipped off to live in the far East with a tribe of nomadic desert dwellers. Zannah had hunted her down and tried to convince her to come back and restart the Coven, but all that had accomplished was pushing Maura into a fight. After a heated battle, Zannah refused to kill someone who had once been the closest thing to a sister she’d ever had. She left her in the sands of the desert to live in shame. Unbeknownst to Zannah, three months later Maura and the rest of the nomadic tribes people she lived with were slaughtered by a group of the Queen’s soldiers.
So Zannah walked through the world alone, looking for the one to help her restart the Coven. However this time she would build it stronger. She would only have two: herself and her chosen student. Zannah would found the Coven based on her rules, and experiences of what was effective and what maximized her student’s abilities. She also knew that in keeping with only two, it would avoid any notice from the University and slowly Zannah and her successors would be able to one day exact revenge on the Crown and the University for what they did to the Coven that night. Zannah’s new way was chaos, and she was good at it.