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Chapter 1

Slash! Slash! Slash! The elfguard's sharp crystal dagger sliced straight through the bush and landed with a satisfying hack through her target's torso. A second was all it took for the shrill shriek of the beast to reach Visis' ears six feet above. Her face morphed into a mixture of a flinch and a grin. As always it did when she went hunting, a slight trace of a conscience entered her mind but she waved it off as she leapt down to harvest the trine.

It took really nothing more than scratch for the soft, thick dark skin to peel away in Visis' green fingers, revealing the rock hard flesh beneath. With a vicious stab of her fingernail she removed the excess skin and grabbed the mass of trine. After several seconds of trying to stuff it into her satchel, she gave up and instead tucked it tightly beneath her arm. Confident that it was secure, she bent her knees, muttered a charm and jumped like a toad. It was nothing impressive, just something she'd picked up from an acquaintance, Ceridwen, who had migrated from the wizarding region of Erra. If her stories were to be believed, her village had been burnt down in a fire spell accident, so she used the aforementioned speed charm (pronounced as "Luasi") to get to the nearest elfguard village. It took a long time for the High Council to accept her in the tribe, but once she'd shown off a high-difficulty transformation spell she was believed and the tribe let her in. So far, she'd proven to be a good asset to the tribe and not very social; just what the High Council wants in a hunter.

Visis was a daydreamer. Apparently, her thoughts had taken control of not only her mind, but her eyes - she didn't see the tree in her way until the last second. With a chaotic crash,, she hit the tree square on a thorned branch. Thick, lavender blood sprayed out onto the branches below from six different places where the thorns had dug through her skin. She winced in pain, but really it was nothing she couldn't get over.

"Elfguard number 20, Visis!" boomed a voice from above. Her gaze slid upwards to see the High Council member Envil, nicknamed 'Anvil' by the children of the tribe, crouched firmly on a branch. He was a buff and sturdy elfguard, with terrifying muscles and a face that could stay stone-hard in the most emotional of times. At this moment, though, the stone had crumbled, as his face wore a horrifying glare, only intensified by the rarity of this face. Visis shakily lifted up her legs and staggered into a shaky standing position, the purple of her blood drying into the holes. She was readying her voice to apologise when Envil leapt down, grabbed her by the arm, muttered a spell and...