For thousands of years, the world we know as Earth was a prosperous land of wealth, peace, and magic. An ancient, unexplainable power force that created life and advancement. Many creatures could draw on the natural magic of the world to become superior beings with advanced abilities and heightened senses. They would eventually be coined as “supernatural.”
One of the many creatures that roamed the Earth was the humans. However, as they evolved, they became a jealous and greedy breed. They began to hunger for more power and information they could not understand. One fateful year, a few bad human apples with a power complex decided they needed to be the superior race.
They slowly instilled in humans the idea that super creatures were dangerous, propagating that these peaceful creatures needed to be leashed and enslaved. People fear what they cannot control and things they cannot understand.
Eventually, a Great War broke out, and many innocent lives were lost. One fateful day, all the supernatural creatures and those mated to them vanished. But so did the magic, the prosperity, and the peace. All traces of these mystical creatures disappeared, only leaving behind memories.
Humans found a way to survive. They continued to grow, but so did their lustful desires, greed, hatred, and ultimately despair. Diseases and war followed them like parasites.
However, Humans' constant curiosity helped fuel a determination for advancement, and eventually, prosperity began to take shape. They ultimately created their utopia, advancing leaps and bounds by the 22nd century.
As the years rolled on, memories became stories. The orators reconstructed stories told over time and became myths and legends; fiction spun on hopes and dreams of a different time. Fairytales were created and romanticized.
Fast forward to today.
This world is not a fairy tale with handsome princes rescuing celestial pansy beauties who have borderline bestiality friendships with animals, sing merry little tunes, and go 'Oh woe is me.' This is the real world.
About 200 years ago, we tiny humans had our world turned upside down. The creatures of our dreams and nightmares, the creatures of folklore, were all real. And now they live among us, and some even rule us.
We now live in a patriarchal society with preconceived monsters for monarchs who rule with iron fists. When they took over, they enforced an outdated and frankly regressive status system that combined a complex amalgamated clash of cultures and traditions for both humans and creatures alike.
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Hi, my name is Everly. I am 18 years old as of yesterday. I am a human girl. I live in Elders Haven, the Capital of New Glim, once known as Los Angeles, California, in the United States.
I am average-looking, 5'4, curvy with a little cushion and a big chest. I have brown curly hair that goes past my shoulders and bright hazel eyes with specks of blue and green that Mom says sparkle in the sun. I was my parent's miracle baby. I've been fortunate to live a good life since my dad is on the City Council and my mom is a rare human doctor. I am finishing my senior year at the prestigious Isla Academy for Young Ladies. My best friend is Stella, a werewolf.
A werewolf? Yep! The supernatural world came out of hiding a little over 200 years ago. Werewolves, Vampires, witches, hell, even mermaids! Centaurs, dwarfs, pixies, and the fae—all of them.
But the most powerful creatures to emerge from the supernatural realm were the Dragons. Although they are a rare breed, these beasts were the largest, strongest, and most extraordinary. Their connection brought magic back into the world, and they boosted the supernatural world to be an unstoppable force.
We humans never saw it coming, and we never stood a chance.
The Great 2nd War ended before it began, and the world as we humans knew it was destroyed and conquered. More than 2/3rd of the human race perished in a single day. That day is forever mourned as Reapers Day.
When magic was released back into the world, something happened, and most of the humans disappeared, their essence vaporizing into the ether. It was said to have been a great shock to everyone.
It also hurt the supernatural. Many supernatural people perished, too; some species even went extinct. No one knows why. Only the strong remained. Some say those who survived were considered worthy of magic and compatible with the supernatural races. I don't consider myself lucky, but obviously, my ancestors were one of those who survived.
Again, I digress.
Now, I'm sitting in front of my mirror, fixing my hair in a low formal bun and wearing the red satin floor-length gown the courier dropped off. It was a custom-made satin ball gown with off-the-shoulder long sleeves and a long slit seductively showing my leg. I was grateful that Mom took me to get waxed for my birthday. It fit me like a glove, and I felt beautiful.
I will be forced to attend the highly anticipated and famous EverMate Ball in just one hour. It's a supposed right of passage for supernatural young ladies to find their mate or mates when they come of age. Yes, plural. You can have more than one. It happens twice a year, and you can petition the leaders of your race to attend. Stella is going. Humans can be fated, but it's rare.
The Oracle chooses several humans each year and requires them to attend. If you refuse, they send a small army to get you. Letters were sent out weeks ago. Two girls in my school got letters. Teachers boast that it's a great honor. No one knows what the humans do there, as those who return have their memories wiped. The supernatural can't have their secrets revealed, can they?
I thought I was safe. I was so happy I was underage, as The Oracle only chooses 18-year-old girls or older. I have heard awful stories about the Ball. Even Stella's family warned us about the creatures there. Frankly, I'm scared—I always have been. The thought of being mated to a superior creature freaks me out. I was over the moon happy I wasn’t selected. The key word is WAS.
Last night, a special letter arrived along with the red dress. The Oracle sent me a letter. I was in shock, and I still am. My mother has been trying to put on a brave face, but I can see the worry in her eyes. My father was stoic. He has been somber all day, and his exhaustion is evident on his face.
He spent all night talking to his colleagues, trying to figure out why I suddenly got a letter and trying to get me off the list since it was so last minute. He even appealed to Lord Handich personally to rescind the invitation. This Ball is not a joke. But that letter is law, and so I must attend. To make matters worse, Lord Handich and Lady Annabel have been ordered to escort me personally.
At least I'll be with Stella; she'll protect me. There are so many creatures who hate humans and still want to hurt us. Even though there has been peace and prosperity, there is still much discord from both sides. The Ball is also a way for the remaining supernatural races to conduct business and treaties. Did I mention it's a big deal? The Kings even show up, supposedly.
I need to get through tonight, and I'll be back in my warm bed. I'll get up tomorrow and go to school like nothing happened.
The doorbell chimed three times as I put on my simple diamond stud earrings that my mother gave me. Ring. Ring. Ring. There's my escort! Oh goodie! Note the sarcasm.
I leave my room and down the two flights of stairs in our quaint four-bedroom townhouse. When I reach the main staircase, I see Lord Handich, Lady Annabel, and my parents talking near the front door in our foyer.
Lord Handich, the Chancellor of New Glim (what the oldies would call a mayor), was wearing a black tux that shined against the twinkle of the chandelier. Lady Annabel wore a black sequin ball gown fitted to her bodice and flared out at the thighs; a big black bow settled on her lower back.
What catches my eye are the four tall, buff, and armed security guards standing by the door. Their purple eyes tell me they are from the demon realm. No wonder they are so tall. Goodness, they must easily be 7 feet or more. I can make out their sharp talon-like claws despite their hands being clasped in front of them. They have earpieces and wear all-black suits to finish off the professional look. They could pass as henchmen in those old mafia stories; they only need those colorful tracksuits.
I chuckle to myself. There is no reason why I, a puny little human, should be going to a mate ball tonight. There is no way I am mated to a supernatural creature, right?