My name is Rhyanna, of the Edan Furies. Our tale is a terrible one to remember, but I will recite it now. All must know our sad beginning, but only the gods know how it shall end. Hell hath known no fury… until now.

   To say that we were content was to say the truth. Our lives were perfect to a fault. We were the daughters of a loving and wealthy merchant in a small town called Illia. Our oldest sister Akana was engaged to be married to a handsome young man of her choosing, which in that time was rare. To marry for love was for the foolhardy or for the lucky. I think in that case, it was the later of the two.

   His name was Corbin and she loved him dearly. They were as happy as two people in love could be. Their wedding was planned for the first Sabbath of the New Moon. Everyone who was anyone was to attend.

   As for me, the middle sister, I was to wait my turn to be given to a man I hardly knew. Yes, Akana was the lucky one. I, however, was not so lucky. Asha and Shiva are my two younger sisters; their time was long to come. Our laughter and joy were as the sun rising and setting in our father’s eye, casting light into the world. Our mother had longed since passed and we were denied nothing. I was content with my garden parties, and pale pink frocks despite the knowledge that someday I would be given to the highest bidder. Yes, I was content, until, one day, our world came apart.

   From a dark storm cloud they rode through our peaceful village. Those they did not kill right away, they kept locked within cages on wagons. These men wore armor of blood and their horses’ breath spewed spurts of flame. Our father hid us in the underground wine cellar and bade us not to emerge until he came for us. Sadly, he never came. For five days we hid in our misery, speaking not a word of our worst fear. When our supply of water and food ran out, we had no choice but to come out of hiding.

   The sight waiting for us is too hellish to describe. Nothing was left but death and carnage. Everyone was dead or missing, gone was our father and Akana's betrothed. Out of the town of over four hundred people, only the four of us were left. We did what we could for the dead. It wasn’t much. Angry tears were held in check as we worked our gruesome task. We found the tracks their rampaging left, and guessed they had taken the survivors to enjoy at their leisure the twisted enjoyment they reveled in.

   Since we did not find the corpses of either Corbin or our father, hope was renewed. We equipped ourselves the best we could from the shattered remains of the smithy’s hearth, which would never shed the warmth of fire again. We then vowed vengeance would be taken and our loved ones rescued, even at the cost of our lives.

   For days we followed the trail of the marauders, hate driving our every step. Each mile a corpse was left to mark this macabre journey. On the seventh day, we found Corbin's. Akana screamed out in rage and pain as she cradled the broken body of her one true love. Bitter tears streaked down her ash-covered cheeks as she uttered a tortured plea. Out of the darkest hate and tormented sorrow came the answer to her cry. A figure garbed in flames came forth from the ground and spoke the words that sent a stab of fear into my heart. He would grant us the power and the means to overtake our quarry, and we would be unstoppable. In my heart I knew that the price we would pay would be more regret and a deeper sorrow, but seeing hope in my sister’s face as she looked to me for confirmation, I could not deny her. She wanted vengeance and in our current state, all we would find were our certain deaths.

   So on that dark day, we became the things that we are even now. Agony was ours when the Unnamed instilled in us the fire that was his blood and stole from us our very souls. Our blood burned with the hellish fury that was our hate and we became powerful. Our angst-ridden screams sent tremors through the earth and we could travel the miles with just a wish. We now had the means to track down and kill the murderers of our peaceful existence, but at what price?

   What came next became my unending curse. In a blink of an eye, we found the men that we sought. The four of us tore through them like they were nothing but dolls made of rags. Our need for blood was spurned on by our hate. In the back of my mind I heard our father’s cry as he begged for our very souls, but nothing could stop the lust and the pleasure of the kill. With each killing blow, our power grew stronger until it consumed us completely. I knew then, we were no longer mortals. Instead, we walk walking the plains of the damned. But at that moment, it did not matter.

   When all the enemies were torn to shreds, we freed our townspeople. Instead of gratitude, the fools reared back in fright. They turned their heels to run, even our father! My sisters screamed in rage and I found myself unable to stop the shrieks that escaped my throat. As one, we moved, uncaring of what we were doing. We hunted them down one by one and did to them what we did to our enemies. To my shame, we killed them all. Our father did not beg for his life when we captured him. Instead, he begged the Light to forgive us, until his prayer was lost in his death rattle as I silenced him.

   When it was over, the fire that was our blood cooled and grief filled the void that was our hate. What had we done in the name of vengeance? My sisters turned to me and we knew we had to end it. Each of us turned our weapons onto ourselves to end our misery and head to the hell that I knew awaited our arrival. However, our curse was sealed in the blood of innocents. When our last breaths sought to escape our tortured bodies, a hand of fire uplifted us from our certain deaths and we were whole once more.

   So now we walk the cursed land, unable to find peace in death. Seeking whatever pleasure we can in killing. The Unnamed has never shown his face to us again, but rest assured, he will come for us. When that day arrives, we will be ready. We will find our true deaths, and perhaps our final vengeance.