Fahima was in traffic on her way to the office. So getting daily traffic going to and from work was a norm. Working downtown made the drive from her apartment about 45 to 1 hour long, at times even more depending on the traffic. Providentially for her she had remembered to get her new Within Temptation CD this morning if not she would be exceedingly bored at this moment.
Traffic finally started moving along and it took her about an extra 30 minutes to get to work.
Fahima was already sitting at her desk when Jocelyn walked in. With her golden brown hair pulled back into a bun and those breath taking emerald green eyes, she was truly beautiful. She always wore suits, to her knowledge she owned one in every color obtainable. Today she wore a dark cream colored mini skirt suit, which showed off her very toned and tanned legs. She wore a silk baby blue shirt underneath, accessorized by pearls, along with a baby blue purse and cream colored heals.
She was the true taxonomy of sophistication. You wanted to know how to dress to impress while still seeming feminine and attractive you look at Jocelyn and you would have that description.
On the other hand Fahima was the complete opposite. Not only could she not afford that type of clothing, it just didn’t fit her, or so she thought. She was more of a pony tail, tank top wearing, jeans and sneakers type of girl. On the rare occasions that she wore a dress and put make up on she was acceptable but in reality was truly was a plain Jane. Her daily make-up consisted of eyeliner which was an every day must, mascara depending on her mood and lip gloss.
“I love you and you are one of my closest friends. Yet every time I walk in here I ask myself ‘why on earth would she want to work as a secretary?’ and more importantly ‘why isn’t she taking those beautiful pictures we all know she can take and make a living out of it?’.”
She just rolled her eyes; this was the bi-weekly opening speech Jocelyn gave. How she should be taking pictures, why does she waste god given talent. Blah, blah, blah.
Honestly she did love to take pictures but it wasn’t a steady job. As a photographer you could be booked one week and make two grand and then be jobless for three weeks and have to do major penny pinching. At least here she was making a solid twenty dollars an hour and worked a solid eight hours a day for five days a week. That was a solid eight hundred dollars a week, three thousand two hundred a month, and thirty eight thousand four hundred a year. She wasn’t by any means rich in today’s standards but she did live comfortably. Fahima owned her own apartment and her own car (which was recently bought).Not to mention all the benefits she has. Like being over paid as a secretary cause her boss is one of her close friends
“Yes, Jocelyn, whatever you say.” Now it was her turn to roll her eyes. She walked past Fahima and into her office. She was an attorney and constantly booked; yet she managed to somehow have a personal life. She was divorced and was always out on dates, it was obvious she was breath taking but with her busy schedule Fahima couldn’t fathom how she did it.
“Oh Fahima before I forget” she screamed from inside her office instead of using the phones intercom. She shook my head. “My three o’clock has moved for ten so change that and bring me his file please.”
“Three, three, three, ah here we go three o’clock. Gotcha! Let’s move you to ten, Mr. hmm! That’s odd.” She murmured to herself “What’s odd?” Jocelyn answered, this time using the intercom. “You’re three o’clock has no last name inputted.” “Doesn’t matter, you get it once he comes in.” “Ok”
The alarm chime that rang every time a door was open clanged. Fahima was in Jocelyn’s office going over with here the case at hand when the chime went off again. She got up and started walking to her desk but froze mid way there. The guy standing there was breath taking, he was tall, and I do mean tall. Fahima is a tall girl being 5’7 and all but he easily was over six and a half feet, looking at his eyes was as if some one punched you in the gut and took out all your air. They were a beautiful teal/aqua color; he had a strong squared jaw, with shoulder length black hair and very broad.
She looked at him and noticed he had on a confused and surprised face, probably masking hers.
“Hi I’m Fahima Linna, are you Thorer?” He nodded. “I am here to see Ms. Gallagher.” He said in a rich deep baritone voice. “Yes if you would take a seat for a moment, you are here a little early and she has one appointment before you.” She said pointing to the seat at the opposite side of the room. The left side of his lip curved and she felt as if she was going to melt. He couldn’t look more virile and commanding if he tried.
To Fahima’s annoyance he sat in the first chair to the left of her.
As she walked over to her computer she realizes she didn’t have his last name on file. “Oh Mr. Thorer-” “Just Thorer” She smiled looking down as if looking at something on a paper to hide the flushing of her cheeks. Once her face felt normal, and she thought it safe to raise her head again she looked up. Realizing that when this man was who you were looking at safe wasn’t meant to be put in that sentence. “We don’t have your last name on file and we need that information. If you wou-” “Wolff two F’s!”
And he cut her off once again!
Sensing something forbidding from him she sat back down and inserted his surname in the computer.
“Do you have the time?” Fahima jumped at the sound of his voice and he gave a deep chuckle that vibrated every single bone in her body. “Do I scare you elske?” “No you just startled me, and to answer your question, its 9:40am.” He gave a smiled that showed how truly amused he was at Fahima.
Fahima spent the next twenty minutes trying to not glance his way. It was nearly impossible he just took up so much space that it was hard to ignore him. He easily composed 3/4ths of the entire room.
“Mr. Wolff, Ms. Gallagher is ready to see you.” He got up nodded and went into the office. To Fahima’s relief she didn’t have to try not to look at him anymore. Only she found herself not needing or wanting to look up now that he wasn’t there. You would think it’s easy to ignore some one, but this man was hard to overlook little more disregard.
At 12:30 both Jocelyn and Thorer came out smiling while Thorer lead Jocelyn out with his hand on her lower back. That wasn’t a big shocker that he liked her, yet she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy inside.
What on earth are you saying Fahima!
What was I saying? ME! Jealous for this arrogant - think - I’m – special-because - I’m – drop – dead – gorgeous - and –larger - than – life man. Hah! She thought to herself bitterly.
“Fahima cancel all afternoon meetings were going to lunch with Thorer.” That wasn’t a question it was an order. “I’ll go ahead and cancel the meetings right now but I won’t be going to lunch with you two, I – uh – already made plans, with – uh – Maria and I can’t just cancel last minute.” Jocelyn nodded accepting what was told to her, it was Thorer that shocked her. “Bring her along too.”
Fahima couldn’t be more deer on headlights if she tried. “No thank you, I’m not trying to be rude really, you two go on ahead.” “Come on, I know her, she is more obstinate than a mule; once her mind is set, there is no changing it.”
He drew those suspicious teal blue eyes on her and looked intently into her eyes. She got a feeling that he wasn’t just looking at her eyes but staring straight into her soul.

Thorer sat in his library staring at a small dot on the wall. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. She was one of the most beautiful creatures he has ever laid eyes upon.
Simple?
Yes; but attractive none the less.
Her hair was straight and reached mid- back, and her body was any mans dreams. She was slender but healthy, had a tiny waist with thick hips.
Thorer unconsciously licked his lips and Triinu caught a glimpse at him. His eyelids were lowered and his gaze was smoked, as if he had a woman that he wanted to consume right in front of him; only that he was staring at the wall.
“So who have you all dreamy eyed?” Thorer looked up at his younger sister. “I don’t get dreamy eyed. I was merely thinking.” He said emphasizing don’t. “Well I feel bad for the woman you’re not dreamy eyed for cause you were about to devour that wall in front of you.” Triinu responded giggling.
He truly did love his sister there were just times he wished she was mute.
Triinu, his dear little sister, she was a true splendor. They looked a lot alike only she was soft and feminine. She had a coiled black mane that reached her lower back, teal eyes lighter than his with golden and grey flecks here and there, with fair porcelain skin, which was soft and creamy. Any man that would even consider doing his little sister harm would unsuspectingly have signed they’re death warrant. No one would ever hurt her, no one!
“So who is this mystery girl?” Ok maybe he’ll do some harm to her but no one else, he thought to himself.
With a sigh he gave in to her constant jabbering. “I don’t know her. I was on the roof of a building in the southern part of downtown following the beast that has been causing the recent deaths and she was walking to her car. I guess she saw me because I felt her gaze my way, when I looked I got this odd sensation; and well then she lowered her head and drove away.”
Triinu just stood there looking at him. She had a knowing look in her eyes that he didn’t like. “What?” “You don’t think she can be your Vallabha do you?” “Don’t be ridiculous. You know no Dark Warrior has ever had a Vallabha. Plus what would you know?” The instant he said those word he lamented them. “I’m sorry, that-” “No!” she interrupted raising her hand to silence any future comment. “You have spoken the truth, if you will excuse me brother I think ill withdraw to my bedroom now.” With that she left. Not saying another word.


That night Fahima had ordered in pizza (cheese and mushrooms), taken an hour long bubble bath while she read one of her all time favorite books Jacob by Jacquelyn Frank, and finally painted her toes and nails drizzle-dazzle pink.
That had been her entire night. Actually that’s what most of her nights look like.
Fahima noticed the instant she started feeling sorry for herself and jumped of bed at lightning speed. One thing she couldn’t tolerate was self pity. It was self pity that had caused her mother to give up on life and on her and she refused to follow her path.
She walked over to the night stand and pulled out her camera. One thing that always made her feel better was taking pictures. Wearing her plaid sleeping pant, a white tank top and her pink furry slippers she grabbed her keys and camera and walked out of her apartment.
One thing she loved about where she lived was that about two blocks away there was everything. To the left hand side of her apartment, which were she was going now, was a beautiful pond. Across the street from her was the Don Shula steak house and all the small shops and restaurants that were located on Main Street.
The street lamps had been on for almost an hour now, giving the perfect lighting for the dark pictures she wanted for her newest inspirational piece Dark Warrior.
She had been having this specific dream for almost a month now. She was standing on the bridge that crossed the pond right here and a guy came up to her. Unable to see him she tried to get closer but every time she did he would disappear more and more. Fahima would ask questions and get no answer. The only words she heard as a light faint whisper was Dark Warrior and as soon as that was said she would wake up drenched in sweat and trembling immensely. Since that was the only thing she heard and it was always at the pond she decided to name the piece Dark Warrior.
After taking about 10 frames she headed back to her apartment; on the way taking pictures of the Oak trees that were found any and every where in Miami Lakes.

Once she had unpacked all the boxes and turned the alarm back on Fahima locked up and was on her way to the car when she saw a man on the roof of the building next door. Trying to hub her vision to be able to see at that distance was an absolute downer. All she could see was that he was broad; perceptibly fit and presumably tall. He had shoulder length hair flowing around him due to the wind, that didn’t seem to be blowing. Odd! She thought as she got a chill down her spine and noticed his gaze was directed her way. Clearly Fahima was no fool; lowering her head she rushed to her car like a starving dog after a nice juicy steak.
The chill down her spine came to alleviate after she had driven 5 blocks south of the location. She had no idea who he was but he definitely gave her the heebie jeebies.
Fahima parked at the CVS Pharmacy store by her apartment thirty-five minutes later; spent about ten minutes looking at dyes; then about twenty minutes at make-up. It took her 40 minutes to leave the store only to end up leaving with mascara, eyeliner, and a bottle of pink drizzle-dazzle nail polish.
Pathetic! I know.

Begining of Chapter One

If you would look up her name, you would find quick-witted next Fahima. Yet somehow when people thought of her they only thought of poor plain Fahima; with her plain brown hair and plain brown eyes. Funny thing is that was exactly what she saw when she looked in the mirror. Plain dull straight brown hair, with ordinary shaped almond eyes that were the color of chocolate pudding, with maybe one or two flecks of gold mixed in. She was slim yet had to buy pants two sizes too big for her waist because her hips refused to fit into anything less.
She wished that for once in her life something astonishing would happen, something that could alter her and revolutionize her from being dreary to mesmerizing. Or at the very least a little intriguing.
“Fahima did you hear me?” Finally tuning in to Jocelyn. “Sorry I was a little gone there for a moment.” With a heavy sigh Jocelyn just looked at her. “What am I going to do with you? Go and take this box over to the north office then you can go home.”
This was exactly what she needed; she would go home maybe stop at the drug store on the way there and buy some hair dye and make-up.
“Ok, thanks Jocelyn. See ya tomorrow!” Fahima grabbed the box and walked to her car. Once the box was secured in the back seat she drove off to the office. The three offices that Jocelyn owned were maybe ten to fifteen minutes apart, yet she referred to them as the northern, southern, or 54th street office. She honestly didn’t get her most of the time, but she was a great boss.
As she drove towards the office Fahima took in all the scenery. Having a minor in photography teaches you to enjoy the simplest of pleasures life has to offer.
The night was thick considering the fact that it was only 6:30pm. She arrived at the building and parked right in front of the offices main door. The building held 30 stories yet Jocelyn had somehow managed to obtain an office on the first floor (not that she was complaining).
“Ow.” Fahima cussed and fussed for a few seconds, grumbling to herself. The girl was a magnet for electricity; there was not one time when she tried to close the car door that she didn’t get an electrical shock. It had been happening for the past two weeks and it was starting to drive her crazy. With a heavy sigh she walked into the office. It was very nicely decorated; at least for being an attorney’s office.
Letting herself in with the key that Jocelyn had entrusted her with she walked over to the small irritating box to the right of her that kept beeping. She punched in the code and her ears instantaneously felt the reprieve.
She dropped the heavy box on the front desk, when she heard glass break. It took her a moment for her to realize she had knocked over the picture frame that held a picture of her mother when she was… she thought for a moment. “Well you would have been my age here in this picture huh? But you had to get yourself pregnant and die.” She said resentfully.
She didn’t know why she kept this picture around; every time she saw it she would either feel miserable or get irritated. Yet she could never seem to bring herself around to throw it away. It was the only thing she had of her mother.

Prolouge

The air whipped his face as he stood looking below upon the city. People walking along the sidewalks pleased with their mere existence; not knowing what the morrow might bring. The cars flashing along rushing mortals from one point to the other.
They might walk, talk, live, feed, and breath amongst them but are no were near close to being humans. For they alone stand against the world and all the unearthly demons that try to bring them down.
It was nights like these that Thorer truly hated the most. For it was the nights when he could think clearly, and see how his life (if one could call it that), had been since his father’s death.
He looked down at the palm of his had where the mark, his reminder of his true being, his true mission, and eventually his down fall.
You are darkness.
Successor of the Einherjar.
You are what save mortals from all OtherWorld beings. You have been chosen as a warrior; from birth till death you are what save the innocent from the OtherWorld creatures that would do them harm.
Only by the side of a Vallabha will your duties be absolute; and at the birth of your first child he will be taught as you were and trained as you were and will resume the role of the Dark Warriors.
With a heavy sigh Thorer clenched his fist a blended with the night.