Many told of the old battle fields to be bathed in the blood of those who fought it, but this battle was different. Among the litter of bodies and the trudges, something else moved. No more soldiers were in the area - the battle had been fought, lost, and won. Now, though, a greater forced moved through the area.

Some may call it death. Others, a ghost. Others, a moriphen - a creature that claims a living victim to take its place so that it may pass into death and no longer wander the world. This creature, whatever you may call it, was now moving through this field...a field of prey. All the creature needed was one person that could take its place...one person that was near-death.

It came across a small nurse, whose hair was too fair for it to claim. It came across a captain who had dragged a man and saved his life. It could not claim someone so brave. He came to a corporal who died before it could take him. Indeed, the results were looking glum. He needed a horrible, terrible person to take his place. Someone who was a coward, a turcoat, or a maniac.

Her name was Ellen Thornson, but when it claimed her, she became Irrasemblance, her haunt name...in her human life, she turned from her side of the battle and fled over to the other side because she knew that they were winning. Now, however, she was alone...neither the winning side nor the losing side. She was a ward.