In the realm of the Elders, white mist floats up from the clouds below, swirling about the forms of those who traipse through it. Each movement causes a shockwave amongst the fluid substance and sends it spiraling in a new direction. There was minimal architecture in the heavens as the Elders have preferred to keep true to its nature. What little that was added was done so in a white marble that makes it the entire realm seem like but a scene out of Ancient Greece.

A male figure stands in the midst of marble columns that seem to rise for an eternity into the air. He is clothed in the classic robes of his profession, the white hood pulled forward, masking his identity from all. Each hand pushed through the sleeve of the other arm, the young whitelighter is making his way through the misty hall when he is suddenly hit with a surge of pain. It stops him in his tracks. A veteran could channel the pain and never fell victim to it, but this whitelighter was far from a veteran.

An instant later, the young man has regained his bearings and his body dispenses into an immense number of small bluish orbs that descend to the mortal realm, spiraling downward. During the descent, the world appears in a blur; a blur seen through a blue tint. Honing in on his charge’s location, the whitelighter continues onwards towards the city of San Francisco. Mere moments later, he materializes in a clearing in Muir Woods, his whitelighter robes magickally replaced by casual clothes.

Lying upon the ground is one of his charges. A girl, no more than sixteen. She is on her back, eyes staring skyward. He could hear her sharp breathing and knew her to be alive, his empathic connection with her confirming this. Jacyn wastes no time rushing to the girl’s side. He may be a relatively young whitelighter, but he had spent his life, short as it may have been, as a witch; he knew how to keep a level head in stressful situations.

“Claire, it’s gonna be ok.” The whitelighter’s hands are already hovering above the apparent wound in her chest. It appeared to have been sliced with an extremely sharp blade. The wound was neat, clean. “Just breathe. I’m gonna fix you up.”

Jacyn’s eyes are focused on the task at hand, so he does not notice when his charge, Claire, loses focus on him. Her mouth moves, but no words come out, as she tries to speak to him. The golden light emitting from his cupped hands is warm, even to his own skin. It was an amazingly euphoric experience that was completely inexplicable to those that had never felt it for themselves.

Unable to withstand the healing touch of a whitelighter, the wound seals itself back up as though it never were. Jacyn allows himself the feeling of accomplishment that follows as he settles back on his haunches, pulling his hands away. It is now that he looks upon Claire’s face and realizes that she is not looking at him. He frowns, perplexed by this. “What is it?”

”Be... hind. You…”

“Huh?” The confusion is apparent in his voice. Even so, the young whitelighter turns his head to see what it was that had grasped Claire’s devote attention. A woman stands above him, a cruel smile on her lips that somehow manage to never touch her eyes.

Startled, Jacyn gives a small gasp and is about to orb… but the moment’s hesitation had cost him. Before the thought of escape had even fully formed within his mind, the woman’s hand was around his throat, dragging him to his feet. The blonde woman was unnaturally strong, lifting him into the air with ease.

From the moment her hand made contact with his skin, Jacyn had begun to feel something pulling at him from within. He did not know how else to explain it except to say it felt as though someone were draining away him

”I had to make sure you were one of them. Had to make sure I got what I bargained for.”

The woman’s voice, though melodic, comes out as cruel as the smile she held moments ago. There was no warmth there. This was a being of pure evil.

”Congratulations. You are officially responsible for the extinction of your kind.”

Pain’s ominous words are the last thing Jacyn Cataldo hears in life. The goddess drains him of his life force and magick. He can feel both slipping away from him like sand through his fingertip. She was stealing him and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.