White Fire (prologue)

         War cries mixed with screams of terror as flaming arrows met the wooden buildings that made up my small village. I stood in the middle of the main road, surrounded by flames that devoured houses and shops like starving tigers. People cried, fire roared, animals shrieked, but all I could hear was my own pounding heartbeat. I was the only one left standing, a pale, blonde, eight-year-old girl, still as ice amidst total fiery devastation.
         Before long, the terrified crying ended, silenced forever by ruthless flames. Our attackers rode their black horses through our fields and streets, laughing as if it was nothing more than a murderous game. A young one, a girl maybe no more than ten years old riding behind someone much older, happened to look at me. In the light of the raging fire, she removed the hood that covered her face, revealing skin the color of coal and eyes that shone like blood rubies. Her bobbed hair, aside from crimson streaks in the front, looked like silky waves of pure darkness flowing softly in the wind.
         For one seemingly endless second, her ruby eyes and my sapphire eyes bore into each other like daggers. Her expression one of hatred, but in her eyes I saw something else. Did she recognize me from somewhere? Was she feeling remorse for destroying my village? I really couldn’t tell, and I didn’t have time to figure it out before the entire gang of bandits or soldiers (whatever they were) disappeared into the moonless night.

         I’ve forgotten how long I stood there afterwards, but it wasn’t very long. I ran full speed into the forest east of my village, the opposite direction of our attackers. My mind was so full of sorrow and anger that it blotted out all other thoughts. I ran until the sun began to rise in front of me. The light sort of woke me up in a sense, and I finally realized how sore and exhausted I was. I collapsed on the spot and fell into a troubled sleep, unaware that someone was watching me from the trees.