Chapter One

Betrayal of Innocence

The sun shone irregularly through the canopy of leaves and created beautiful patches of color randomly throughout the forest. René could hear shushed whispers and shuffled movement as she counted down from 30.

"Twenty-nine, twenty-eight . . ." The wind picked up and René's long braid gently bumped against the middle of her back. She smiled at the feeling with her face hidden against her arm up against the counting tree.

"Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen . . ."

"Hey! This is my hiding spot!" She heard someone whisper.

Renée and her friend Emily had gotten the other village children of their port town to play hide and seek with them. Now there were nine kids running about the forest on the top of the cliff, overlooking the ocean. And the kids desperately needed this playtime. With the threat of war hanging over their shoulders for over 100 years, their elders have all been very tense, keeping the children on tight leashes. In the town of Shiro, the children have had to step lightly to avoid getting into trouble, being that mostly everyone's tempers were on short fuses.

"Eight, seven, six . . ."

René heard a rustling in the bushes to her right and guessed that someone had decided to hide in the most obvious of places. A little twig from a tree not far from hers was broken off. René couldn't hear it hit the ground but she was pretty sure that someone was in that tree trying to get more comfortable. She wondered why these kids couldn't find better hiding spots. They had the whole forest, after all. It doesn't matter, she decided, it would just make her role easier.

"THREE TWO ONE!" René shouted quickly. She lifted her head from her arm and ran straight for the kid hiding in the bushes. It was one of the bigger, older boys, but that didn't matter, because René got him before he even had a chance to get up.

"Found you!" She shouted laughingly as she tagged him.

"No fair!" The boy yelled angrily. "You cheated!"

"No, I didn't."

"You must've! How else would you have been able to find me so quickly?" He demanded.

"How could I not have found you so quickly? You were right there!" René pointed to the bush beside them. "And you were moving around and being very loud! There's also someone in that tree. Over there. I heard both of you!" René took a deep breath. "Anyway, it's your turn to seek."

A look of rage crossed the boy's face and he shoved René, who almost fell from the strength of it, and walked stiffly to the counting tree. The other kids had timidly come out from their hiding spots at the yelling, their curiosity overcoming their fear of the older, bigger boy, Greaves, who was known to be a bully.

René turned away indignation and brushed imaginary dirt off from her clothes. She really hated this boy who thought he was better than everyone else, but had invited him to play with them anyway. Hide and seek was more fun with more people, after all.

"Watch out!" A girl suddenly screamed.

René jumped and turned around only to see Greaves charging at her with a big stick and brutality shining his eyes.

René leapt backwards as Greaves swung down right where she had been standing. The stick smashed into the ground creating a little dent in the dirt. Greaves grunted from the force of the impact. René stared in shock at the boy who had tried to hurt her.

"What is wrong with you!" She screamed. "You could have killed me!" Greaves looked at her blankly then the rage and hatred returned to his eyes again. He roared his fury and tackled her to the ground.

René couldn't breathe. All of the air had been knocked from her lungs in the fall. She saw Greaves stand and raise his stick high above his head for a blow that was sure to knock her out. René's eyes widened in fear and her chest rose with reclaimed breath. Nobody was going to help her. She knew that everyone was too afraid of Greaves to stand up to him. She needed to do something fast.

Her hands swept across the ground for something, anything that could help her. Her fingers brushed against the thickness of a stick. Greaves swung with all of his might and René closed her eyes, bringing the stick up horizontally across her face with both of her hands.

The impact broke her stick, sending the two halves of it biting into her throat. René winced as she felt the blood well up on her neck, but the wounds were superficial. She opened her eyes and saw Greaves staring at her with a look of horror and fear. The stick fell from his hands and he took a few uncertain steps back, before he finally turned and fled down the trail to the town.

René scooted up to a sitting position and saw the eyes of all the children on her. They had varying looks of awe, astonishment, and fear on their faces. René gently touched her neck, and then looked at the blood on her hand. She realized that her neck stung painfully where it was cut.

"That was amazing!" A boy exclaimed, breaking the silence. "That big bully, Greaves was like 'ROAR!' and you were like 'Hey!' and he was like 'Die!' and you were like 'Nuh uh, no way!' and you totally blocked, like, the strongest swing ever! Your stick even broke! But that chump ran away!" He took a big breath of air and sighed out, "Wow . . ."

"Are you okay?" Her friend asked, cautiously walking towards René. "Your neck . . ." Emily murmured.

René didn't want to be here surrounded by all of these kids, her friends. Not with all of the released tension in the air, the awe, respect, or even care. She wanted to wash her hands free of the blood on them. She wanted her neck to stop bleeding and hurting it to get away from all of these eyes. René stood up shakily and Emily rushed to help her. She roughly pushed Emily's arms away from her and ran off, stumbling, deeper into the woods.

"Hey!"

"Come back!"

"Where are you going?"

Their voices followed her as she pushed through bushes and low hanging tree branches. Twigs tore at her skin and clothes, but René didn't notice. She only concentrated on getting away from them, from the events that had just occurred.

She finally stopped, gasping for breath, and bent over with her hands on her knees, looking at the ground. Her pants were pattered with tiny little tears from her mad dash through the woods and she could feel shallow cuts on her arms and face. The dried blood was making her neck and hands feel dirty and uncomfortable and slightly hindered their range of movement. Her blue eyes felt moist and she realized that she was crying. She could feel the tear tracks through the dirt on her face.

Angrily, she scrubbed at her eyes. This is no reason to cry, she thought. I don't want to cry. This is stupid! René sniffled and straightened up. Why did she even run away in the first place? She survived that giant oaf, she could face up to a few admiring kids. She sniffed again and rubbed her neck. It didn't really hurt anymore, but the dried blood was itchy. René looked around and heard the sound of rushing water back the way she had come. She retraced her footsteps to the creek and wondered why she hadn't realized that she had passed it on her run over here. It didn't matter. She stepped into the knee-high water and washed the blood from her neck and hands. Her face felt all grimy, so she washed that to. Running a hand across her braided dirty-blonde hair, she realized that there were twigs and leaves entangled within the strands. It also felt absolutely filthy. René took out her braid and brushed her fingers through her butt length hair. It was way too long. René decided that she would cut it shorter as soon as she went back to the village. Maybe a little past shoulder length? She splashed water onto her hair and washed it the best she could, then she started the long trek back to the village.

Since she was already on top of the cliff, René decided that she would take the longer way back to look out over the ocean.

Something wasn't right. The sun was setting over the ocean like always and there was a slight breeze that ruffled her now loose hair as per the usual, and the waves were still rolling gently across the shore and a little roughly against the cliff, but something was different. René could smell in the air and see it in the way the sea birds were circling around the shoreline and the town. Was the water slightly more red than usual in the fading sunlight, or was that just her imagination?

In the fading light, René saw a stream of smoke rising from the village. There's more smoke than usual, René thought. Did something happen? A sick, soggy crashing sound was heard right below her at the bottom of the cliff. René carefully inched forward and peered over the edge.

It was a body. A body was being crushed against the cliff side with the waves! René looked down and realized there were more, similar dark shapes peppering the shoreline, being carried by the waves. René felt sick. Just what was going on? Had Shiro been attacked? But there had been no sounds of cannon fire. No furious roars from the Dragon Kin. No one sounded the alarm!

The wind suddenly picked up, carrying with it faint cries from the village and port. People were screaming! They were being attacked! But by who? René saw no enemy ships. She had to do something! Maybe she could help! René backed away from the Cliff's edge and sprinted through the forest, running faster than she ever had in her life.

At the outskirts of the village Shiro, she was shocked to a stop by the macabre scene. Bodies littered the streets, and could be seen through the windows of burning houses. There was Mr. Handael, the shopkeeper, and his wife clutched together forever in the cold embrace of Death. She had just been to their shop yesterday to buy some flour for mother. She stared on in a daze as a handful of survivors fled screaming from the burning town hall. It seemed they were running from her . . . "Uncle," she whispered. He had been lost at sea for nearly a month, and now he was back! Why was everyone running from him?

"Uncle," She rasped out with tears in her eyes. "Uncle!" She managed a little louder. She was about to run to him to hug him and welcome him when, suddenly, he stopped chasing after the other villagers. His body began to shake . . . And change. He looked like he was shedding out of his human skin. In her uncle's place was left a monster. It towered over the tallest survivors by a foot and had bulging muscles and sharp claws on its hands and feet. Glowing yellow eyes peered out of a monstrous head with no hair and a mouth too big to be fitting, and teeth sharper than the most feral of dogs. His dark-gray colored skin looked appropriately of Death.

The monster leaped and stabbed his clawed hand through the chest of one of the men. Blood gurgled from his dead lips… The man had died on impact. The monster withdrew his hand, clutching the man's heart in its fist. It brought the heart to its lips and took a big chunk out of it. Blood squirted down its chin.

"Mmmn. Tasty." Its monstrous voice rumbled. "But I want more."

Yoma, the word whispered through René's battered mind. Yoma. From the stories. They are real! There was a rumor, a legend really, of a secret organization that used the flesh and blood of the Dragon Kin to try to create monsters more powerful than their predecessors who would obey the will of the organization. This must be one of them, but why is it attacking us?

"Ahhh!" The survivors screamed as the monster, the Yoma, had somehow elongated his clawed fingers into long, spear-like whips. They had pierced the bodies of the remaining survivors who fell to the ground either dead or dying.

René couldn't look away from the carnage, couldn't move, couldn't think. Even as the yoma tore into the guts of a faintly screaming woman, René couldn't look away. Her mind had shut down.

"René," a girl's voice coughed. "René!"

René's eyes met with the source of the call, though her head didn't move. It was her friend, Emily. She was lying on her back and coughing up blood with a hole in her gut. René could see her intestines dangling out from the side of the hole and gagged in disgust.

"Run," Emily gurgled through the blood in her throat once their eyes met. It was so disjointed and quiet that Renée could barely hear her. "Run." Cough "and survive." Cough, cough. "Live… for us. Live… for… us . . . ." Her breathes came quicker and harsher and she closed her eyes. René was petrified with fear and sorrow.

A man's scream pierced the air, breaking René from her stupor. She would survive. She ran. Her feet carried her to the cliff, overlooking the ocean. They failed her before she could exit the tree line. René collapsed in exhaustion. She heard a faint chuckle to her left and with her fading vision she spotted a man swathed in a black cloak. Her gaze surged upward see his face, but her body could take no more.

The last thing she heard was the man's gravelly voice, "I think they learned their lesson." She passed out.