Page 1 of The Arbiter

There's always a fine line between everything. Love and hate. Cruelty and compassion. Pure and tainted. Light and dark. Most fall on either side of the spectrum within black or white, but none fall on that line that flows through the gray areas. No one is a perfect balance of all those things.

No one, that is, except the Arbiter.

Two supernatural races have been at war for thousands of years, the Damned and the Divine. With one being, the Arbiter, at the center balancing point between the two.

In the beginning, there was the Creator and the Divine, and then the Creator brought into existence the human race and gave them life from his realm, Divinity. They weren’t as good as his first creations, the Divine, who were beautiful and full of light and compassion. The humans were easily corruptible and nowhere near as loyal. However, he was proud of them both. Most of the Divine loved what the Creator had done and marveled at the life of man, yet not all his Divine were sold on his new creations.

While humans had free will and the ability to love and prosper, the Divine were stuck in their ways of never being able to indulge in those same joys that humans did.

Cain, one of the highest Divine, was angry with the Creator for not also being given the same freedoms as the humans, such as choosing to love. He felt it was an insult to simply be silent sentinels guiding a race he deemed lesser than the Divine. No, he wanted much more.

He plotted against his brethren and gathered thousands of supporters to follow him in his ambition to be the leader of the earthly realm. In stepped Abel, another of the Creator’s high Divine, who found out what Cain was up to and waged war to stop him.

A battle of insurmountable bloodshed ensued on the Earth realm. The Creator, thinking Abel could bring Cain home to him, was horrified and enraged when Cain took Abel’s life instead. As punishment, Cain was cast down into a new realm of existence that would be known as Damnation. His soul became the eternal anchor for the sinful souls of humans when they passed from their mortal lives. It was commanded that he should never be set free from either punishment. Since Cain’s followers were blinded by his words, they were cursed to become monsters that could no longer touch the pure light of man and must feed from the tainted darkness that had befallen the humans from the war between the races.

These cursed became known as the Damned. They would take many different forms from blood drinkers, energy feeders, monstrous wolves, and others that could only be described as living nightmares. They could never find the light within Divinity again but in return were allowed to live out their existence with the humans on Earth. Once a Damned died, their soul was forfeit and claimed by Cain, living within Damnation under his curse.

The Divine who fought for what the Creator had wanted were blessed with the free will that Cain had desired. They could choose Divinity or Earth. As with most things, however, living with free will came with a price. If they gave up their positions in Divinity to live on Earth, they had the responsibility of keeping the Damned on that realm in check and would claim the life of any that killed a human again. These Divine became known as The Order of Abel, and members of this order were called Rites.

With so much bad blood remaining between the two races, wars were still being fought. The Creator made one last move in hopes of restoring balance to his children. He created a position of power that would be held by a soul that was perfectly balanced between the two warring races. This being was blessed with immortality and had the power of judge and executioner over both sides.

This being became known as the Arbiter.

Only the fatal flaw of balance is the scale can always be tipped to one side.

One after another, Arbiters failed in their duty, succumbing to the call of their Damned half over their Divine. There were only two ways that the Arbiter could lose power: being killed by a blessed blade or by choosing one side completely. If one side was favored over the other, the half they denied was stripped from them along with the extra power. The Creator would then choose another half-breed that he saw fit.

Unfortunately, that power will now be passed along to me.

Nocturna

“Holy hand grenades, what the fuck just happened?”

I pretty much yell this to no one in particular. Here I am, minding my own business and loading up my truck with alcohol for my club, when I get jumped by four humans.

So, that’s how my day is going to go, huh?

My club, The Apothecary, is a place I bought some fifty years ago for any of the Damned or Rites who wanted somewhere to go to just be themselves without fear or worry. Granted, more Damned happen upon my establishment than Rites, but who am I to complain? I have plenty of humans to make up the difference and fill my pockets with money.

I’m losing focus. Back to what I was saying!

All I was trying to do today was pick up an order to stock the bars in the club when this human asshole jumps out of his truck with his three buddies. They’re armed with silver nets, blessed blades, and even a real-life stake.

What worries me most about this incident is the fact that humans shouldn’t know about us, let alone how to kill us. Only the human government should know of our existence. There’s only one way to know what we are: the tattoo-like runes etched into the palm of our right hand. They’re the markings of the Damned or Divine, given to us at birth. The Damned rune is very simple really, a vertical line with a short horizontal line directly in the middle and another further down that is a tad bit longer. But since I am also Divine, I wear their rune as well on my left palm. The Divine rune is a large circle with a smaller one inside to the right. It almost looks like a crescent moon connected at the tips.

The Rites, however, are a dead giveaway with their hooded black robes and signature Abel A hanging around their necks. As long as everyone plays nicely, the humans don’t try to nuke us, and we don’t bite back. Somehow, these four not only have some idea of what I am, but they also know about the weapons that could hurt me. It’s not a good sign. And for whatever reason, they aren’t trying to kill me, only incapacitate.

I hide my surprise of their knowledge though and quickly slide my twin hooked blades from the floorboard beneath my front seat, giving them a little spin in my hands before facing off with the humans. Yeah, these swords are bitchin’.

“This isn’t Buffy the fucking Vampire Slayer,” I say before kicking the one closest to me. I know a few Striges who would be pissed on my behalf just because of that asshole wielding a piece of wood. The blood-drinking Damned who are always deathly pale and have issues with sunlight are quite literally where vampire myth stems from. Not that they’d burn up or anything, but it definitely makes them cranky.

Unfortunately for these guys, I’m a master swordsman. Looking like an average twenty-five-year-old female, I age extremely slowly because of what I am. I have the power of both the Damned and the Divine on my side. I have influence over pheromone magic because of my Succubus mother, but I’ve yet to find any signs that I’ve inherited any power except maybe strength from my Rite father. These kinds of unions are rare, so it’s not like I had anyone growing up that could teach me about all this. I wish I’d come with some kind of manual. It still surprises me that a Rite could be sexually attracted to anyone with how uptight they are, let alone a Damned, but I guess give any supernatural creature enough alcohol, and they aren’t too picky on race.

Somehow though, these assholes are impervious to my set of charms and aren't the least bit fazed when my second form comes out to play. Okay, one guy looks like he might shit his pants, but I’m beautifully scary when I change. My raven black curls turn stark white, my eyes glow silver, and my skeletal system shows through my translucent skin. By the looks on their faces, they’ve never seen a creature like me, but that hasn’t deterred them from trying to capture me with that damn blessed net.

Blessed weapons are made of silver and doused in Divine water, which is normally ineffective on a Divine, but my Damned half allows it to burn me. These humans somehow got hold of Rite weaponry, and that just pisses me off a little more. I quickly go to work slicing into one of the guy’s thighs. He’s the one who stabbed me, and I feel pretty justified, even as he screams like a babe at birth. At least he’ll live. I cut into the second guy’s Achilles tendon. He’ll count his lucky stars if he’s ever able to walk again. I put the third into a sleeper hold while simultaneously knocking the fourth guy out with the butt of my sword.

Lucky for me, that stupid net only grazes my arm before I slice it with one of my swords. It burns like a bitch; however, it’ll heal on its own in an hour or so. The puncture to my stomach just below my left rib cage, on the other hand, will take a bit of energy juju to heal since the dude stabbed me with a blessed blade. A normal knife wound would heal almost instantly, but one from something blessed needs more kick. My Succubus side allows me to take energy from beings when I kiss them or have sex with them, healing any ailments I have. Thank the Creator for small favors, though I only use it in extreme cases. I’m hardcore picky about bed partners.

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