Mathias' Journal - Entry #1

Our people are finite - dying. No one seems to care, not inside the packs and those that know of us, and especially the mortals and unmagicked, those who would seek to destroy us. We can reproduce yes, but Avaloren blood is thinning.
And no one seems to care.
I have dreamt of what Avaloren might be like. Stories are never the same. But my kin are two caught up in the mistrust of the past, blaming one another's family lines for the 'curse', but they can't see the truth.
It is not a 'curse', it is a gift. Whether or not it was borne on to us by those who sought power, what my people, scattered and lost as they are, fail to realise, is it our curse that grants us strength.
The mortals and unmagicked, they are the enemy, hunting us like beasts without any thought to the men and women that lie under the Fae Wild's blessing.
Our people are finite - dying.
And no one seems to care.
I write this in the hope that one day, when we are one pack, and the home isles are reclaimed from our wild kin, that we may look upon these times, these dark repressive hidden times, as the days the Avaloren's decided to rise.
By fang and claw, I will see it done.
I am done hiding, it is time to let the 'beasts' out of their cage.
Maybe some among the mortals and unmagicked would be willing to help us? I will find out as I move carefully to plant the seeds of our uprising.
The Old Ways are coming for the unmagicked, for the unbelievers who forced us to hide.
We will rise.
And no one seems to care.