1592. Wexford, Ireland.

The woman cloaked in a rich green ran through the damp streets, passing artisan stands and a loud ruckus from the brothel. Her reddened fingers clutched something with a death grip, as she peered anxiously over her shoulder.

Blood splattered over her freckled cheeks like raindrops, and the gloomy Irish sky brought a dark tinge to her green eyes. It felt as if a thousand eyes were watching her from every angle, and they might as well be. He had eyes everywhere, and he was coming for her.

She was his prey, a frail doe compared to the wolf. But she would not fall. She would not go silent to the night, the last banshee would not become just a tale read in story books. She would not disappoint her mother.

Her footsteps prodded down the darkened stones, fear and determination creeping over her body. The woman ducked around a corner, seeing nearby civilians slam their windows shut at the sight of her. She frowned, but purged on through the twisting streets of Wexford.

A force slammed into her temple and she cried out, slamming to the ground with a groan. She looked up, scrambling to the nearest building as a pair of glowing red eyes peered darkly into her own. The wolf had cornered her.

"Oh my sweet, sweet, Ealga Ó Cathasaigh. The wailing woman of Ireland, the girl of smoke." His voice was gruff and low, bringing a chill down her spine as her hand tightened around the item hidden in her cloak. "The last banshee." Her voice wanted to break out with a whimper, but she kept it at bay.

"Akeldama." Ealga spat, looking to his gaunt features with a sneer. "The one who was too weak, so he hides beneath others' power." The man laughed to himself like a madman.

"Hides? Eagla, you're too brilliant to think that someone like me would dare hide beneath another." His smile grew to show a pair of elongated canines.

"I steal the power, little banshee. I've stolen the power of one-hundred alpha wolves. It is my duty now to rise and fill the void my father has left." He trailed, inspecting a claw.

"Your father would be disappointed to have you as a son." She grit her teeth, Akeldama freezing and turning to her with a wicked look. His lips turned down into a frown. He fisted the hood of her cloak, using the strength of an alpha to pull her upwards and meet his eye.

"Now here is your flaw, little banshee. I do not wish to please my father. I want to rise above him. My father killed to cause fear, to have the thrill of dominance. But do you know what I kill for?" He questioned with a edge in his voice, and her breath halted for a moment as she saw blood in his irises. But a sly smile slowly stretched across her face as Eagla pushed him off her. His eyes narrowed with confusion.

"No matter how many alpha souls you harvest," Ealga muttered, hand gripping the item beneath the cloak. "No matter how much power you gather from the other wolves before you." She withdrew her hand from her cloak slowly, revealing a lilac stone with an intricate Celtic symbol engraved on the surface. Akeldama's primitive stare gazed in bewilderment as the stone that lay in her palm.

"It-it can't be," He stammered, staggering back as her eyes began to glow the same color as the stone, a pale, light purple.

"The Stone of Aeval," Eagla announced, a certain hum coming from the rock as she said it's name. The once fearsome monster cowered in fear at the sight of it. "Whichever Banshee holds the Stone of Aeval holds the power of Aelval herself, the queen of banshees." He shivered to the sound of the name, and Ealga grinned in triumph. Her mother's sacrifice would not be in vain.

She raised a hand, a cast of purple ghosting over her palm as flecks of energy floated off of it. The energy grew hot as her eyes glowed brighter, and Akeldama backed against the wall, shaking his head in fear of the power that pulsated through her.

"You, yourself have said it. You are a demon from the pit of hell." She paused, bringing the hand up to rest over his heart. "But I will send you back to where you belong," His eyes widened as the energy grew red hot, searing his clothing.

"HELL!" She finished, and Akeldama screamed out as Ealga released a piercing banshee scream, shattering the nearby windows. The energy focused in her hand exploded, and the once powerful and feared alpha slumped to the ground, clutching the little life he had left in him.

Ealga, looking down at his destroyed figure, narrowed her eyes as he whispered his last words.

"I will rise again, Ealga Ó Cathasaigh. I will bring bloodshed in torment in my wake, and I will destroy the Stone of Aelva." His breathing was labored and harsh as jagged stone. "I will use your own bloodline of banshee's to do it," His eyes glazed over, watching the silhouette of Ealga as she left him dying on the dampened streets of Wexford, only to miss his final words before death.

"I will create a gate."

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The Gate
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