After partly avenging her mother's death, Evette Star, the illegitimate daughter of an elven king, sets off on a warpath to find the adversary of her people.
The human King in the West, Dracul Dregoth, has locked himself away in a stone tower for r...
Narcisse drew his weapon out of instinct. He strayed from the group. His horse galloped forward and then back, while his right hand gripped the hilt of his sword with strength. He murmured something under his breath before slaying a man on the ground beside him.
Arrows flew in different directions, and Evette ducked just in time. She heard Narcisse call over the wind. He ordered her, Noel, and the two other elven guards to scatter. There were few bandits left, and they fled into the forest. They were fast runners, but Farrah was faster.
Evette held her sword out at her right side. Her hand clenched and unclenched at the hilt. Her palms were clammy and slick with sweat. Farrah and her practically flew off of the main road. They jumped over fallen tree logs and hurried to catch up with the man ahead who was running at full speed.
The heat surged through Eve. She felt sudden adrenaline, anger, and fear all at the same time. It was difficult for her to see with red spots clouding her vision. In that moment, she felt everything slow. Her breathing was no longer rapid, and she moved her sword closer. The man who she was chasing was beside her now, attempting to get away. With a heavy swing of her sword, Evette tore off the man's left arm. She leaned to the right, and sliced off his right arm too. At the last second, just before he fell to the ground, she sent his head flying. His body was in pieces, and his blood was everywhere.
Evette did not feel a thing. She turned her head and returned her focus to the trail ahead. There was another man ahead, riding at full speed. His black horse galloped on a decline, its hoof beats loud and repetitious.
The man wore a black hood that covered his face entirely. From head to toe, he was dressed in a deep black. His saddle was made out of an unusual material; from what Evette could see, it was probably a dark leather. He was not like the rest of the riders. He lured Evette into the heart of the forest. She continued forward, not knowing his intentions at first. Evette soon realized that the man was trying to cut off the wagon on the main road. He knew a shortcut through the deep woods, and was headed straight toward Montgomery and the girls.
Evette knew she could not let the man catch up to the company. She started to gain on him, but had to fall back when he suddenly shifted to the right. He passed a large tree out of her line of sight, and was suddenly gone.
Once the man seemingly disappeared, Evette and Farrah came to a sudden stop. They were both deep in the forest now; far from the rest of the group. The silence crept in, and made them believe that they were alone, but they were not.
"Get off of the horse." Evette turned her head to see the man in the black cloak pull back the string of his bow, an arrow pointed straight at her head. He was standing now, his horse nowhere to be seen. Eve locked eyes with the green eyed stranger. She looked upon his face, and was disappointed to find young features. His voice was shaky; Evette assumed he was nervous.
Sliding off of the back of her horse, Evette stood cautiously. Blood dripped down from the large sword she still held in her hand.
"Drop your weapon." The man commanded. He held his bow and arrow steady, clearly prepared to shoot if Eve did not listen to his demand.
Evette hesitated. She felt a slight tingling sensation in the palm of her hand. Ignoring all sense of fear, she silently refused to drop her sword. The man glanced at her skeptically.
"Last warning." He said angrily. The hooded man gave Evette two seconds. He let go of the arrow's nock, and sent the wooden projectile flying. Closing her eyes, Eve prepared for what was to come. She allowed herself one last moment of peace.
The end did not come for Evette, for it was not her time to die. The darkness in her would not allow her story to come to an end so soon. It demanded control, and it would stop at nothing to take what was now its property.
Glowing flames flickered behind Evette's closed eyes. Her whole body felt as if it were on fire. Every vein in her body was filled with flame; every nerve ending tingled with a new sense of belonging. Her body finally gave in.
Evette raised her right hand, and gripped the flying arrow that was now inches away from her forehead. Her fingers wrapped around the thin, wooden weapon. It was impossible, but she had done it. Just as she stopped the arrow from piercing her skin, she opened her eyes. Her vision shifted, and the ring of color surrounding her pupil was flooded with a deep orange shade. She tilted her head and glanced at the man in front of her. He had no words to express the amount of fear he felt. He quivered when he witnessed the state of his opponent's glowing skin and eyes.
"You've upset me," Evette's voice was laced with a dark venom. "I suggest you apologize." Her mouth moved slowly, but the voice that was speaking was not fully her own. She let out a deep, demonic growl, before cracking the arrow in half and throwing it to the ground.
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