Chapter Three: The Balance Disturbed

Thorn padded quietly down the stone hallway, her footsteps echoing slightly against the gray flagstone. The hall was dim; she could barely see three feet in front of her. She was no longer wondering about her purpose, or about how many lives would be lost by the next morning. She was no longer Rose. In her Thorn state of mind, only one thing mattered-killing the American Dragon. She was destined to slay it since birth, and she wouldn't-couldn't-hesitate to kill it. She reminded herself that it was evil, a despicable monster, and that slaying it would lead to the betterment of the city. She smiled wickedly. All of these creatures would die soon, and they didn't even know it. They would just be leading their normal lives, and then…then they would be ambushed. The smile faded quickly. Part of her felt for the magical beings, they were so helpless. She shook the thought out of her mind. They weren't helpless. Those Dragons protect them, for what reason she couldn't figure out. Her thoughts wandered back to the American Dragon. He should be easy to slay… she thought. It doesn't have a clue, and with all the extra training I've received, it won't have a chance. (1)

By now she had reached the Huntslair's meeting room. She opened the heavy iron door, and stepped inside. The room had vaulted ceilings, adding to the atmosphere of a cavernous building. Long pews were filled with Hunters, about one-seventh of which were women, Thorn noted. There were more Huntsmen than she had ever seen before-the entire room was packed-and that was saying something, since it was the size of a large church. Thorn looked around the dark room, searching for a familiar face. She finally found one, and hurried over to sit next to her.

"Hey, Shadow," Thorn greeted her friend. A girl with long black hair tied securely into a tight bun, black eyes, and a soft expression turned.

"Hi Thorn!" Shadow replied. Her dark eyes flickered. "Are you excited? Please, don't forget the little people once you're Huntsmistress!" She feigned desperation. Thorn grinned.

"Oh, don't worry; I won't…uh…what's your name again?" She replied. The two girls started laughing, until they were shooshed by an aggravated Hunter. The girls glared at him, but quit laughing.

Suddenly, a dead silence fell across the room. The Huntsmaster had entered, his heavy steel boots clamoring against the concrete. He scanned the large crowd with his blood red glare.

"We have gathered here today from across the world. We are brothers and sisters, separated by distance, but now we have come together for the chance of a lifetime. Today we will stand as one against a plague that has rendered the world for centuries. Magical creatures, some believe, are harmless. They think unicorns are 'cute', and leprechauns are 'silly'. They are wrong. If these creatures joined forces, they would overthrow the balance of life as we know it. That is why we fight. We fight for our freedom, for the freedom of our children, the freedom of our neighbors. We fight for the freedom of ourselves. We strike at sunset, when mythical beings are most active. Do not hold back. Kill any creature you can get a hold of. Do not spare women or children, for they can become vicious as soon as anything else." He paused, letting his words sink in. "There is another event to celebrate tonight. My niece, Thorn will be taking my place when she turns eighteen as the new Huntsmistress. Tonight, she shall slay her first creature, an important event in any apprentices' lives. If any dragons should show up, the one called the American Dragon is her prize. Alert me if he should show. Grab your gear, we must be quick. We have a long way to travel, and even with teleportation it will take several hours."

There was a commotion as everyone retrieved their Huntssticks, and moved into an adjoining room. This room was a bit larger than the former, and Thorn noticed wires running around the perimeter of the space. The transporting system, of course, she thought. It took a long time for everyone to transfer into the connecting room, and as they did, Shadow and Thorn talked.

"Are you nervous?" Shadow said, her tone expressing that she was anxious herself.

Thorn shrugged, trying to seem like it was typical for her. Shadow looked skeptical.

"Okay, maybe a little," Thorn admitted.

"Yeah…it's weird hunting with so many people…" Shadow commented, looking at the Hunters still filing through the doors.

"What are you going to hunt?" Shadow asked after a moment.

Thorn thought for a while. "I never really thought about it," she concluded.

Shadow nodded. "Neither did I, but it just popped in my head. I think I want to take on a Phoenix, they have such pretty feathers, I could make some cool earrings…"

"Yeah," Thorn replied. She wasn't really in the talking mood. Her mind and body were in a sort of meditative stage, and she was focusing all her energy on reviewing her attacks.

Suddenly, the lights went out, and the wires started glowing a bright, neon green. A sucking feeling tugged at Thorn's feet, and she was dragged through the floor, her feet seemed drawn down into the oblivion by a magnet. She looked over and saw that Shadow was next to her, as were the rest of the Huntsclan. Besides the people, there was only darkness.

"So, what do we do now?" Shadow asked in a normal voice, though it seemed as though she was talking in a whisper.

"We wait," Thorn replied.

Thorn is calling the American Dragon 'it', this will come up later on…

Okay everyone, what do you think? REVIEW! I do not own American Dragon: Jake Long, but I do own Shadow.