Prologue

Fire. There was fire everywhere. Tall, orange flames shot into the air, eating away at everything in the vicinity. The air was filled with black smoke, ashes and the screams of people trapped within the inferno.

Drowning out the screams were the sounds of airplanes flying overhead, continuously dropping bombs.

In midst of all the turmoil a young girl was running frantically, dodging the flames, falling pieces of wood and brick as well as explosions from the falling bombs, rather with luck than with skill. She kept looking over her shoulders and up at the sky, always on the lookout for danger. Her clothes were torn and dirty, her skin slightly burnt and her arms and legs scratched and bleeding.

She seemed to be heading towards a certain building at the end of the road – or rather, whatever was left of it.

The house might have been a tall, impressive building once, but now it was nothing but burnt out ashes and rubble.

The girl stepped in front of the ruins and looked around. Cautiously now, she stepped forward.

"Chianty?" she called out, scanning the area. "Chantal?"

There was no answer.

An airplane began to circle in the sky above her – she looked up at it anxiously, then hurried to get away from where she was standing. She knew it made no sense to run away in a certain direction, the plane would be much faster than she was – the trick was to change directions often so the pilot couldn't keep up. It was tiring, but then, in exchange for life, what was a little exhaustion? It came down to nothing but the will to carry on living in this war.

As she ran, she tripped over a large stone, adding another scratch to her left leg. She winced at the pain, but got back to her feet and started running again. She was panting from exhaustion, her chest heaving heavily.

Behind her there was an explosion – the plane had begun dropping its bombs.

She turned right at the next chance she got, took another right turn and then a left one. She had no idea where she was going now. She had hoped to find her at her house… but if it was burnt down, did that mean that she was… gone?

The girl's mind was racing. What to do? Where would she go if her house was destroyed?

She remembered the day her mother had died like it was yesterday. But it had been months already, almost a year. Life in this war was hard – but you had to take what you got.

Her mother, who she had been living with, had been killed when their own house was destroyed. The girl had managed to escape, and had found a temporary home with her childhood friend, Chantal – or Chianty, as she called her. The girl knew that somewhere near here, another of her friends had lived until recently, when her home had been destroyed as well. Maybe she could find the two of them together?

The chances of that were very slim, she realized that, but she didn't want to believe they were both dead. She wouldn't believe it until she had seen their bodies – only then would she give up hope.

They're not dead. They're alright. I just have to find them.

"French! Over here!"

The girl's head turned to see a brown haired girl, about the same age as her but taller, running towards her from a side street.

Relief washed over her. "Chianty!"

Chantal reached her and panted from having run so much. She looked just as scarred and dirty as the other girl – French – did.

"Have you seen anyone else?" French asked.

Chantal shook her head. "There was no one in my house but me when it was destroyed, and I got out okay. I was looking for Tina. Do you know where she went?"

"No, I was looking for her as well. And for you."

The sounds of the plane got closer again.

"Crap. He's still following me. Let's go."

The two girls started running down the road together, the smaller one, French, leading the way between the burning remains of what had once been homes and shops. They passed the smoking ruins of a train station as they hurried on, away from the plane.

"Where should we go?" French asked as they ran.

"Shelter" was all that Chantal managed to gasp.

"The forest?" the other suggested breathlessly.

"Good idea."

They fell into silence again that was only broken by their panting.

There were a few other people on the roads here, frantically looking for shelter or trying to help those trapped in the flames. Ahead of them, French suddenly spotted a taller, blonde girl running in the same direction.

"Look, Chianty! Tina!"

The brunette looked up to see that the smaller girl was right.

"Tina!" she panted, trying to shout but using too much energy for running already. Nevertheless, the blonde girl in front heard her and turned her head.

"French! Chianty!" She slowed down slightly, allowing them to catch up to her. She looked just as exhausted and disheveled as the other two did.

"You're alright!" French exclaimed, a grin spreading across her face.

"So are you! Where are you going?"

"…Forest!" was the answer she got, accompanied by more heavy breathing.

Tina just nodded. And so they continued running together, towards the trees that promised a bit of safety for the moment.

The enemy's planes seemed to have stopped circling overhead; they were getting fewer and fewer. They seemed to have concluded that most of the people living here were dead, and considered their mission accomplished.

But there was still the risk of being followed and hit, either by bullets or falling bombs.

And indeed, as they crossed a field that separated the remains of the houses from the trees of the forest, one of the smaller planes pursued them. It wasn't armed with bombs, but with a set of guns in the front – and if there was someone aboard that plane who know how to shoot properly, the girls were in trouble.

Whoever was aiming the gun opened fire on them just as they reached the shelter of the trees. They ducked down and continued running, bullets flying over their heads.

The smallest girl, French, was leading the way, but she had no idea where she was going – as long as it was in the opposite direction of the plane pursuing them, she didn't really care.

Suddenly Tina screamed in pain and stopped in her tracks. She fell to the ground, clutching her shoulder. One of the bullets had hit her – it hadn't gone deep, but it had to be painful.

"Tina!" Chantal and French called in unison.

What happened then, none of the three would later be able to recount properly.

A single drop of blood from Tina's wound dripped to the ground from between her fingers. It didn't land on one of the countless twigs scattered around them, but on the earth itself.

Suddenly, a bright light shone form the ground they were standing on, in the form of a giant circle. It lit up in a second in a burst of red light, and then the three girls were gone.