Chapter One - The southern church of the Sun.

The grand hall of this eight pointed church which is the principial that all pilgrims flock most to take a glimpse. The places out of reach are covered in gold leaf, mosaics of raw cut gemstones inlay the walls of the biblical sun god's prophecy and statues of past pope's in power made in cast platinum bust look down over the central point. The money into making and keeping this place as beautiful as, it was should have been better spent on other things. Be it the welfare to monks, nuns and divine partitioners, not this. Even better would to put the money into hospitality of those injured or homeless due to the increase of abnormal occurrences. More space for refuge from the unknown and unforeseen oddities this world throws.

The very central ceiling is that of the continent as a whole, nicknamed the flower of the sun god around here. The land looked like a wilting long petaled flower. Each petal was split in human nations and the central part a forest that only those with a death wish seek out. Any smart eyed person would take into account that this map was purposely designed to favour whomever stood at the eastern main alter, the labels cant be read correctly from looking up but rather the angle matters. The map has changing markers in each of the cardinal directions; as these are meant to be ancient marks reminders of those who wish to take the steps to becoming gods. Very few knew this secret and even less knew it was to do with becoming or gaining powers of divine user ability. If anything, divine power was often as much a curse then a blessing to the average person. It was also instant death for most vampires that dare touch the holy grounds; well indeed most but not all.

Her mother took the god trials, that vaguely was all that was remembered of anything family related. It was because her mother became divine, that she assumes that her premonition dreams come about. In how she recalls to find the right fake tomb along these walls, the hazed dazed dream world was always wispier in real life and that of voices were muffled. But with several nights rest to get here, she knows to take the western ray. She walked in grace, befitting the saintly nun veil. She was passing painted stained windows depicting monsters that wish to eat the sun or shroud the world in evil darkness.

This place stinks of candles in every direction and the fools that travelled the world that wish to be reborn in the light of the sun. If anything, the busy foot traffic made blending in among the nun's that more easer, and being brought up with all the prayer practices to play it perfectly - although if she was tested here and now. Anyone would see through her disguise. Even in the last month, the sun church was having a change of heart and worse a change of doctrines. She would be singled out if they weren't so busy this moment. Although it been 10 years since she stepped foot in any church, the main premise of all religions had some universal the rules.

Just as she was sticking her hand through a fake memorial for some old book, she took pause of hearing a visitor begging for freedom and not mercy. The monks don't even look guilty for the blood smearing across the floor. Rather they seem in a trance, incanting their protective chant while the victim screams to try to drown over. Although he wasn't going to turn into a vampire, they still will execute him to be sure he never does. A victim of a bite... poor man doesn't have long to live.

This was part of the changes of recent events, that no longer was there justice and mercy to even the unwilling and defenceless victims of attacks.

The current pope was the man that spoke of lies; 'the great sunlight is all whom shines on the pure and untainted. We live only in light, shielded by the purest of flames. Fallen ones must be cleanse of the flaming blessing'. A real nut job. The distraction of the burning man in the background and that of chanting prayer to beg his soul rise to the sun in tribute. The old dirty book was one of 50 copies all stored hidden in this memorial. A published book by a vampire publisher, marked with the grand crest of the highest of vampire bloodlines. But here it was, hidden in a sun church tome. A hand written message in blue inks within the cover, but it wasn't the time to look upon this item further. She hides it the best she can, hide back the memorial stone correctly while then chanting it to be resealed once more of the preservation blessing that kept these books from damage within - the same one used for all the corpses in the walls of this church.

"That was the easy part." She softly mopes to herself. She takes quickly to blend in more among the movement of bodies. More taken by the darkness and sinners were being dragged through in chains. Pilgrims and locals all in chant of threats to their peace. She steps in line with other veiled virgin sisters, walking in practice to be the final judgement of these dirty sinners. She choose this event and this now because it was the only time she will have been able to access the gold gate that blocked any from entry into the eastern alter. More exactly some old human king tomb with some peculiar extras within it. There is also the only escape out of here when they realize she's a fake. Like any great thief knows, getting into hell is the easiest part. Getting out of hell in enough pieces was the greats escape of them all... but she certainly won that medal of honour.

"Please! I was allured by his charms. I have always been faithful to my husband. No please. I beg of you." the sinner at her feet sobbing, grovelling and kissing the feet. Anything to subvert fate, even just a skew. In unison, all the veiled lowered to level of their sinner. Right hand placed over the face. A single word chant. Silence.... all across the entire church. Breaking from the pack group, the great actress stood straight and poised. Hands stretched at each side. The lead priest stare in shock, as it was unprecedented that by veiled virgin would give such a pose. Baffled and stunned to never know what to follow.

"A cast forth the veils and pull the curtains of the beyond. I ask of thee to please make step through in welcome among and take tribute as you please." the walls of stone grow of many hands pose in mirror to her, "Take forth these worshippers of the sun as my gift to you." the many hands gained claws and now many across the church were being organ snatched. She lowered instantly, "Run! Leave now. Go." breaking the chains of the sinners that can flee.

They so do like everyone else. All hands on anything to smash the stone hands from grasping them. She side kicks the other ladies to topple over and ran straight behind to the tomb of the confessional king. She brute pushed all the strength with help with a crowbar she had in the skirts. The pope seal smashed and finally... with the draw of air. This tomb was opened. She leaned full half in. Scrabbling around the king's corpse. She helps herself to his rings, a holy untarnished silver sword and most importantly - the spare spine bones that didn't belong to this dead king. These bones were share and fused with the kings spine.

"You!" she was leg pulled, out of time for any more tomb plunder. But as the brute of the monk pulled her, she used the momentum to take hold of the silver sword and stab through the wrist bones of the man. She had nearly cut her own leg but it was a risk she was able to take. With him screaming and unable to cope with the severed ligaments of his arm. She picked up all she can; sword, bones, relics and book.

She throws herself into a hanging tapestry. It would seem like some miracle that she be that luck for some sort of air vent to be right in placement. She contorted and wiggled herself deeper through this shaft, evade the misery and fear she caused behind her. The white virgin rob were crusty from the years of burning oils, candles, dust and dirty. This air shaft was unforgiving bends and tight for her. Even with contending a mid sized gem incrusted hilted sword of pure silver. But she makes it work. Wiggling about in slow progress, in a blind dark maze. The draft of air hits her in a crossing. She will have to survive not only what will be a big drop but she will have to break one of her thigh bones to make that turn.

"Crawling out of grimy tunnel is better then begin executed as some heretical sinner." She grits and the mentally prepares for it. She make a little mental prayer. She not only contorted her back out in three snaps, of which she was use to but the her left rib snapped in the tight angle... leaving her in a half stood pose. Her left leg stuck in a twisted way. She counted to herself and not even finishing that count, the be snap and the free fall. Slamming hardly along some flag stone flooring. She been here several time in preparing for this heist. This was the forbidding books collection this church was hiding from the general public. Thankfully given they worship the sun, the believe that installing a glass panel to allow natural light was suitable for reading in this gloomy basement. She barely make it crawl to hide to a chest she left here. She does what little in basic first aid she will accomplished in this time constraint.

The removal of the ruined virgin veil disguise. If it wasn't so bloody and filthy of church stink. These were thick white robs that virgin nuns wear to protect themselves from all sin and to mask their scent from vampires. Virgins are particularly sought after by feral vampire types, because the blood is sweetest. That is assumed fact, according to the medical and research of both humans and vampires. Equally virgins had higher potent powers of divine abilities. They were candidates to a even higher ranking than any man- excluding the pope and god vessels. All churches; be it that of the sun, the twin moons, and other main religious beliefs; all seek to have their own saints. Saints are what divine ability practitioners are called, but using the term saint burns a vampires tongue. There is power is faith and words.

The science study for why this is has never been figured out. Even if there was an answer to why, no high human of science would divulged this secret. The society of science research was controlled by the western powers; that of the highest technology. They also are the biggest control of the black market, manufactures of all high scaled goods such as sheets of glass to small intracity objects like pocket watches. The west hates the northern hunters who spoil the slave market. The south population are the biggest victims to the western slavery. The North aren't really a government nation like the other petals but instead a nation controlled by hunter oath ranks. So there isn't exactly a leader or vote of people to help the south from being slaves. The eastern petal was isolated by it geographical sand dunes and monster problems of its own. And that just talking about the humans in their own civil wars. This just a sip of what issues come about. Add the double layer vampiric societies and well no one keeps anything straight about anything. There are some diagonal petals of mix races living there, or its a place of interest for some resources. There is small villages of humans everywhere but the petal nations is how they talk of their rules. Where vampires run a set fenced spaces dotted around the place, ignoring human boarder laws. Keeping a squeeze over the flow of raw goods. This map just shows the honest problems for why nothing was really happening, that everything was stagnant in not improving or worse.

The last of her leather armour was belted tightly as best she can. This thick padded layers was all that keeps the feral vampires she hunts for bounties from part taking in her blood. Well that she wears silver weapons in every crevice possible. She so bulky in weight, she relied on her inhuman ways to carry herself. More importantly to protect her gender and identity from the rest of the world. Ever since she fled the black market for human meat and blood slavery and made herself into this male hunter. There was no relying on what she really is and her origins.

In fact, she counts it a blessing that she completely fine with accepting she was a born half vampire. She is a born child between a vampire and maybe one the many hidden saint users. She is gifted with both some vampire strengths, sight of things, and the slow aging. She was also gifted with holy use of divine script, making every liquid she touches separate into layers and restless night of predictions of the future. These all the gifts her blood gives her, all thanks to her parents. Think it, she might not even be the only child of this pair. They clearly left her to die or be blood on some table out there. It's fine. They would want a huntress vampire murderer like her among them. Although survival is rare for half bloods between a human and a vampire, its not uncommon. The market in the west is full of half-born for high pay, she was once one.

She makes last ties to use the sword to hold the broken thigh together. A few limps and hisses. She pulled the chair across the flagged flooring and pulled herself to the only panel of glass there is. She no longer cared about being secretive of her being here. Smashing it, instead of carefully removing the whole pane as she did several times before. She pulled through on last struggle and staggers in this back church alley, into the dirty slums of misplaced humans. She makes a little stop for a moment, turning to a black widow spider hung from its spun web, it landing among the glass. It wasn't a native spider to this region and most certainly was more someone exotic pet. But she knows in her dream... that spider although dangerous. It too was something to be collected. She grits teeth in lowering herself to it, her hand offered to it. It tested her but it will seem of its own will softly crept into her palm.

"They will have killed you in there." She shields it from harm, staggering onwards into the street, "Oh gods, what the hell am I even doing all this for? You asked me to summon the demon hands and you send me a spider in show of your awareness of my deeds. Just what more will you make me follow in my restless dreams?" She softly watched the spider cawl from her hands to now ride her shoulder. She gets herself ready, a knife to hand. There is no escaping fate.