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Song Of The Raptor

***WARNING! SLOW-BURN STYLE BOOK! IF YOU DON'T LIKE THIS "STYLE" OF BOOK, YOU MAY WANT TO READ SOMETHING ELSE.*** ____________________________ Life and death hang in the balance during my lifespan, who knows what could happen to you should you dare to read these scrolls... You have been warned. The rest is YOUR choice. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Aya's POV ( Present year, 2020 ) This is the first time I have taken quill to parchment to tell my story. It involves power struggles and vengeance between old Gods and Guardians for humanity, the ongoing struggle to keep the peace between vampires and other creatures. Plus, walking the thin red line to keep our existence a secret. There are battles and private wars, and so much blood... Such were the Dark Ages. Then later, seeing my country torn apart, the shogunate destroyed. While people want to try to exist under the possible rule of one man trying to unify the country. This is the time of the Sengoku Period, to name a few. At this present time, of 2020 I have already existed for thousands of years. I would tell my age, but I think when I explain how it all started, you'll have a good idea. I write these scrolls because I go into battle tomorrow night, only this time, I may not survive. I am Aya Takeda. I am Lady Raptor, and this is my story and my legacy... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Through vengeance and spite, the world of the old Gods and new is about to end by the spilling of the vampire Guardian's blood. Or is it? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Author's Note: Just as a warning, this book is written in the "slow burn" style. Please keep the Comments and Votes coming! Bless you, all for taking an interest in my book! Thank you! Chloè Cover Art By @Ms_EliMonroe on Instagram and Wattpad. Disclaimer: The cover image does not belong to the author

Chloe_Roissere · Fantasy
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122 Chs

What Time Is It?!

Aya's POV

Enikil wasn't in the hut when I got home,  so I busied myself with washing the blood saturated cloth packs and with trying to get the blood out of my white clothing.

Back behind my hut, I knelt down in front if a wash tub in an old pale blue, threadbare kimono that I got from a kind neighbor when I first arrived here. As carefully as I could,  I scrubbed the material of my kimono shirt,  but it just didn't want to let go of the blood. Sighing heavily, I blew the stray strands of hair from my face in frustration.