The kingdom of Archanea was always a lively and beautiful place. Its streets were always filled with people walking to work in the mornings, street performers, small stands selling roasted snacks on the roadside, and children playing ball up and down the street. It was a happy place where the sun never stopped shining. How Lena wished that this were still the case…
As Lena continued walking towards this old prosperous kingdom, all she could see was death. Nobody was walking the streets, instruments lay broken and abandoned, windows were shattered, walls were cracked, food stands turned into rubble, and one deflated basketball rolled uselessly down the twisty footpath. War had struck the kingdom of Archanea, leaving it bare and hollow. The Kingdom of Dolhr had invaded and destroyed everything.
Lena continued down the well worn footpath towards the cathedral. Maybe there are survivors in there. Knowing that there must be guards inside the cathedral Lena opted to entering through the broken window, rather than the front doors. Lena had to fight back tears when she entered the cathedral. It was destroyed from the inside, pews either broken or shoved to the far corners of the building, the once luminescent stained glass windows now lay shattered on the marble floor. This however was not the worst part. At the front of the cathedral, being guarded by armed soldiers were the survivors. Nobody that could fight back, they were just farm workers and their families. They were probably kept alive so that they could make food for the Dolhrian army.
Lena carefully traveled along the wooden supports webbing the inside of the cathedral about 400 feet above the ground. She surveyed the scene beneath her, she could not take all of those soldiers on at once, that would be suicide. But that was the only way she could free the prisoners. Suddenly a small silver object whistled by, cutting an eyelash as it passed. Lena stared in awe as she watched the object insert itself into a guard's neck, not long after that guard fell to the ground dead. The other guards rushed to his aid. Struggling to understand what had happened to their then two more silver objects whistled passed Lena's face and embedded themselves into the necks of two more soldiers.
Lena quickly whipped around to see who the attacker was, using her arm to shield her neck as she did so. What she saw sent chills down her spine, tickling their way to her fingertips and making it difficult to keep a steady hold on the ledge she was balancing on. There in front of her stood a young boy, maybe around 9 years old, dressed in only a pair of ripped trousers. He stood perfectly balanced on the small support, his hair was long and of a spruce color, his face was a pasty white, he was incredibly skinny, his skin barely hiding his ribs beneath them and in his right hand were silver sewing needles. If it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of the boy's chest, Lena would have thought she was looking at a ghost.
The boy raised his right arm, holding up his last four needles. Lena ducked out of the way just in time for the boy to impale the last four guards with them. Below them, the prisoners looked around in astonishment at how one by one the guards were falling dead. In a chaotic rush, everyone ran for the exit, rushing out of the cathedral as fast as they could and trying to get as far away from the soldiers that lay on the ground as possible. Hearing the soft footsteps of the little boy walking away from her, Lena spun around on her ledge to face him. This however caused her to lose her balance and before she knew it, she felt a drop in her stomach and was weightless. Feeling a scream build up in her throat, Lena shut her eyes in fear of the inevitable. But it never came, instead she felt an ice cold grip on her wrist. Lena looked up at her rescuer and found that it was none other than the little boy, he was laying across the supports, one hand securing himself on the loft and the other was around Lena's wrist. With a small grunt, the boy hoisted her up and set her down on top of the supports. Instinctively Lena reached out to brush the little boy's bangs out of his eyes as she thanked him. "You saved my life! I am so thankful and-" Lena stopped suddenly when she saw the boy's eyes. They were grey and there was no life in them. The boy stared blankly back with absolutely no emotion.
"W-who are you?" Lena asked nervously. The boy looked deep into her eyes with his own blank ones, staring straight into her soul. "My name is Navarre," the boy said plainly before turning and walking off.
He had the eyes of a killer, and yet he was so young. There was absolutely no life in his eyes. This "Navarre" child had no shame, pride, seemingly no emotions at all! Just then, Lena felt a smile tugging at her lips. This may be just the child I was looking for. Lena thought, rushing out of the cathedral after the young boy.