On an ill-lit night the fires shone brightly. Orange light filled the night sky as a deafening silence shrouded the landscape in a cowering din. He had burned the Sorceress. Brought death to the one who had spurned him. One in a long ancestral line of many. She had tried to ensnare him and she had succeeded not once but many times. But not anymore. He was free and she… was no more.
Her long, dark, flowing tresses sparkled in the raging fire and burnt ash smoke-like sequins embedded in a sepia mantilla.
She was a witch, or so they said. Her tiny body lay motionless on the makeshift sacrificial altar. Life had been squeezed out of her once limber, agile body.
He turned around in a bewildered state of glory. He promised vengeance on his enemies and on his friends alike. Those who wronged him and his race. His emerald green eyes appeared hollow and in them was reflected the emblazoned mist of the pyre.
With the Sorceress's demise went all her power and her soul, or so he thought. She was good and her good deeds in helping the innocent had been exploited by a malicious life force who specialized in malevolent evil. For he was not a man with a devil’s soul or a devil with the powers of a fallen angel. He wasn’t cast from any of the natural elements, not earth, nor water or air but fire. Believing man to be on this mortal realm only to be enslaved. Humans were weak.
He was created from fire by fire. In the Middle East, in Arabia and Persia and far off lands where Crusaders in their quest for world domination, to convert the heathen masses; had killed, pillaged and tortured. This life force had remained strong. They had long since vanished. He remained, promising revenge and his own brand of wrath and justice on all those who ransacked his world and his kind. On those who had imprisoned them in holy chalices and ornaments of dark crystal.
His name was Sabroh – the Defiant one. For he was a djinn. All djinns are created from fire. There was no human way to kill him or rid him from this mortal earth. He wasn’t human…after all.
With the Sorceress now gone, he had her power. He was a consuming djinn. Living off the fear and souls of mortal men. But he grew stronger from the power of witches, warlords, wizards and warlocks. The masters of light and dark shadows. This witch’s power gave him everything he needed to enter the world once more. After banishment to an eternity within a jewelled, golden chalice by the Sorceress.
She had the power to enter different realms on earth; between earth and the portals amongst them. Spreading the goodness from the seeds of her soul.
With her end had commenced Sabroh’s beginning. He was on a savage quest for belligerence and now he began a new journey. Leaving the Neverworld far behind to enter the mortal depths once more and grow stronger wreaking havoc on the unsuspecting, materialistic many.
From the ages of enlightenment, men; spirits, good witches and white sorceresses were created to protect human bodies and more importantly their own spirits. This Sorceress was one who was spawned from the enlightenment at a time when perilous evil forces ruled the land. When good versus evil was the only realm in which true beauty and survival depended.