1 Prologue

It is said that they were the children of fire. Emerged from the scorching core of the Earth, an eternity before humans first walked the land.   

They lived forever in torture; immortal beings consumed by the inferno. Their pure souls kept Earth breathing, in expense of their contentment and torment. They accepted their fates, as they put their trust in Earth. Clothed in only fire, they swirled their enire lives by Earth's side. They were named Phoenixes, the children of Earth.

Despite their trust, some couldn't bear the pain any longer, and their souls depraved. They got corrupt, broken, unchained; and tore themselves loose from the fiery imprisonment. The pureness had left them. As they abandoned the ever-burning inferno, they transformed. Their wings obliterated, leaving only half-burned sagging skin. They became scrawny, fractured husks of who they once were. They roamed free, consumed by hatred and indignation and their one goal was to punish Earth. They called themselves the Skinwalkers.

Imbalance wore upon the world, and an emptiness hollowed Earth when prison cells were left without inmates. From within Earth's core, a merging black flame began erupting. The poison spread fast and extinguished the vastest of flames. The Phoenixes could only watch in horror as their motherland succumbed. Where the white fire met the black, a crust developed. Layer on layer folded around the fireball, wrapped around it like a glove. With Phoenixes on the one side, and the Skinwalkers on the other, they were helpless and trapped inside with their dying planet. The life-giving flames on Earth slowly went out. 

They had to act. The Phoenixes yearned to hunt the Skinwalkers down and get rid of them once and for all. Earth's fire was at risk, but they contained themselves, as Earth hadn't yet given them an order. That's when Earth knew they were ready, that their trust laid completely by her. Their souls were pure. Earth broke the leash and let them loose. They burst out of the core, and ripped holes in Earth's crust that spew out rivers of lava. Earth blessed them with fiery wings and golden veils of enchantment as they broke free.

The Skinwalkers had become the sole archenemy of the pure-souled beings. They began hunting each other down in a never-ending cycle. Light met dark, pure met broken and good met evil. As many deprived souls as courageous warriors' lives were lost. After thousands of years filled with hunting and chasing, the last of the Skinwalkers was captured and their race was forever lost. The Phoenixes threw the corpses into the deepest ditch in the ocean, the Icarus Pit, named after the Phoenix itself that threw them all down.

Earth's threats were now gone, and life had appeared on its surface. With the evil gone they could grow in peace. While forever scarred, Earth was a liveable place. From the inner fire came warmth and from the warmth came life. But life was fragile, and Earth gave the Phoenixes a new life-long mission. All living creatures ought to be observed and protected from evil forces. Maybe Earth already knew it, or maybe she guessed, but it was crucial eternities later. Even till this day, Phoenixes walk amongst unknowing humans, preserving Earth's wish and keeping them safe. Waiting patiently until Earth, once again, will call them.