Chapter 1

Ryder Shan was sure the elf was dead. She lay face down, her wheat blond hair spread in bloody clumps across the dirt. Her once beautiful face, now covered in bloody lacerations, appeared ghastly by the light of their bonfire.

She was stubborn, not once had she cried out for mercy or begged for a quick end. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of pity for her. The elvish were nothing like humans, he was told they were no different than mindless beasts, so just why did he feel so uncomfortable watching her die.

It had only been a few months since Ryder had signed on with the guard, and tonight was his first interrogation. Nothing could've prepared him for the length and brutality of the "interrogation." In his opinion, it was more akin to senseless torture than interrogation. But he wouldn't dare voice his sentiments to the rest.

As the sixth son of a poor farming family, he had no place waiting for him back home. But here in the guard, he felt like he finally belonged to a cause greater than himself, something truly worth giving his life for. But now he wasn't so sure, what danger could a young elf girl pose to the world? She didn't seem especially dangerous.

Calder, their captain, reached down and pulled the woman's head back by her hair. "I know your kind, where there's one, there's bound to be more."

"I… was alone, you will find no others," she said, her voice weak and strained.

"What did I tell you about lying," he whispered, pulling out his dagger and bringing it up perilously close to her right eye.

"Captain… maybe she's telling the truth," Ryder interceded despite his better judgement.

Calder let go of the girl's hair and turned to face his men.

"Who said that?" he asked in an intense whisper.

Ryder took a step forward. "Captain… she might die at this rate, maybe we should-"

Before Ryder could finish his sentence, a cloud of darkness swirled in, wiping out their fire. Letting loose a string of curses, Calder fell back, his sword drawn at the ready. The rest of the men followed suit, all except Ryder, who inched back nervously.

"What I seek is the everlasting flame of Euland, heed my call and bring forth light!" Calder chanted under his breath, shooting his palm out to the sky. A second of silence passed before a massive fireball erupted from his hand, dispelling the darkness, before hovering over Calder like a miniature sun.

Ryder instinctively shielded his face from the heat, doubling backwards onto the floor. Peeking out from in between his fingers he saw a figure shrouded in the darkness just meters away from them, armed for battle.

With a roar, Calder threw himself forward, driving his sword straight at the figure's heart. Ryder watched from the ground, frozen in place, watching the rest of the men fall in step behind Calder.

The figure parried the sword and danced away. The figure was vastly outnumbered, they couldn't possibly take on five- no four trained soldiers in combat.

Calder was one of the most skilled spellswords in the Euland Expeditionary Guard. The shadowy figure couldn't possibly survive a round with him, much less the combined might of their entire unit.

Ryder noticed the wounded elf on the ground lift herself up. Her hands moving through a set of elegant motions, she was muttering something, he couldn't make out what was being said but he assumed it was a spell, or perhaps a prayer of well being for her savior.

But just as quickly as the battle had started, the tides began to shift. Calder was sent kneeling to the ground by a silver projectile. With Calder down the other three guardsmen circled the figure warily.

Colt, the oldest and most experienced of the three, darted forward, swinging his blade in a wide arc towards the assailant's shrouded head. But the figure was just too good. Colt fell to the ground dead.

The other two stared at each other in disbelief, surprised at how easily Colt had fallen. They backed away slowly, their sword arms trembling. Ryder couldn't blame them, he had never seen such a skilled fighter before.

"If you think this little pinprick is enough to take me down, you've got another thing coming," Calder muttered, picking himself up from the floor. Letting loose a string of obscene curses, he ripped the silver dart from his chest and threw it to the ground.

"What I seek are flames," he whispered, holding his hand against the wound, flames erupted from his palm, hungrily licking the bloody wound.

"Well now that you've killed Colt, why don't we see your face? I want to know just who killed my brother." Calder asked through gritted teeth. Although Colt wasn't related to Calder in any way, he had been his closest friend in the guard, and in that regard they were practically brothers.

The shroud of darkness slipped away, leaving only a small girl holding a sword several sizes too big for her.

"You killed Colt," Calder whispered, showing a rare, vulnerable side of him.

The girl was an elf, and didn't seem any older than twenty, but he could never tell with the Elvish. Her skin was much darker than an ordinary elfs, and her hair took on an odd silver hue.

A dark elf. But her kind never strayed too far from their borders. The dark elves were situated beyond the reach, so why was this one so close to Euland borders.

Calder pointed his blade at her. "Just who are you?"