Young Writers Society

CHAPTER 1

A teen girl jumped up to grab the support beam with her knife clutched in her teeth. Her high ponytail swayed as she swung her body up and over; onto the tiled rooftop. Her grey over top was splattered with new blood; some of the red substance was on her face, just tiny flecks. Her hands were surprisingly clean with only a little blood to yet again stain her skin. She ran quickly and lightly across the tiled roofs of the city, Elimona. Her feet were light and quick showing no signs of exhaustion when she should have felt heavy and tired. She ran all through the night, only stopping to avoid being seen. After leaving Elimona and running through the thick forest, she came upon the city she called home. Dres Leona, an old, ancient yet grand city. One of the few that were still deeply immersed in the old ways. She ran over the rooftops yet again for the third time that night, coming up to a gothic looking structure. It was similar to a castle yet somewhat similar to the embassy. She stopped but she didn’t need to stop for breath; her breathing patterns were fine, as always. She collected herself and put on a mask of indifference and very, very little emotion. That was how you are meant to be in her line of work. No emotion, just follow orders and carry out your missions.

She stayed on the rooftops, unnoticed until she dropped a metre in front of the guards standing before the gate. She showed them her pass, as was procedure and walked through getting a retina scan along the way. She walked through the front courtyard and took in each detail that was already engraved in her memory. Her side started to burn with intense pain as she took in the old, faded, grey bricks and walked into the foyer, her mask still firmly in place not showing the pain or exhaustion she was feeling. When she reached her destination she knocked the gargoyle door knocker and after a few moments the doors slowly swung open to reveal a pristine yet gothic foyer.

She walked past the reception desk and nodded to the lady at the desk. She weaved her way through the roguish looking people and to the main stairs. At the end of the second floor was where she wanted to be. Her eyes looked at the big doors she had seen countless times before. She knocked politely and heard the ‘okay’ and entered. Inside the room was a tall, elegant man. He wore a dark grey business suit, his black hair a perfect contrast to his white tie and shirt. He wore rectangular glasses that accented his sharp and elegant face. To the left was a couch that was occupied by three young men around her age, then a coffee table and then the big stone desk. She approached the desk and knelt down, bowing her head.

“Oh? You’re back already, Leah? How interesting, you never cease to exceed my expectations, my dear.” She rose as her name was mentioned.

Leah smiled and she could be seen by each person in the room, “Well you just underestimate me, old man. I finished the mission. It was a little more, tricky than I expected. Apparently they have dragons and vamps. I ran into a red dragon, luckily it was only an infant, and three vamps.” She reported back, pausing as she looked for the right word before settling with ‘tricky’. She heard the leather of the couch shift and she felt the interest in the room peak.

“I take it you killed them.” It was a statement not a question, however it was worded.

She nodded her ash blond hair shinning in the light, “Yeah, the vamps are dead but the dragon is –“

“Oh, no, no, no. Don’t you dare tell me you took it.” The man sighed and rested his head in his hand closing his eyes. He looked pained.

“Nope, I sent it to the sanctuary. Can you get me some of that healing potion and ointment? I need to fix myself up before I leave for my place.” Leah replied, wincing slightly as another wave of pain ran through her body.

“Oh, good. Of course, which one?” He replied.

Rolling her eyes Leah said, “They worst tasting one and the one without wolfsbane.” He nodded and left the room. She put her pack on the coffee table and took out some bandages. Then she got out her other medical supplies and took off both of her tops; the grey pad armour and her ¾ sleeved black top. She winced as she pulled the skin tight black top off. Then the elegant looking man came back in holding a small gourd and a brown pot. He placed them before the girl.

“Thank you, Jeruad. They’re trustworthy?” Leah asked tilting her head to the young men seated on the couch.

“Of course.” His voice sounded slightly offended and interested.

“These vamps, they’re old. Really old. As in eldest I’ve ever seen. Which is why I got injured, that and those, bastards, had wolfsbane coated talons and fangs.” Leah grimaced as she kept on cleaning her nastier wounds.

“Wolfsbane? Why would they use wolfsbane? And are you absolutely sure they were the eldest you’ve ever seen?” Jeruad frowned thinking aloud.

“They weren’t wearing a band. And they didn’t have a coven tattoo, plus they stank really, really bad. As in rotted corpse slash burning zombie flesh. I’m as sure as hell.” She convulsed slightly, and then gasped. Her hand frantically went to her side and the other dropped the alcohol swipe and lunged for the tweezers. With shaky hands she placed the tweezers at the middle of her worst wound and shoved them in the cut. She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled out an inch long claw like peice of metal. She gasped for air and dropped the tweezers as if they were the plague. When Leah got her breath back she got a peice of thick material binding and picked it up.

"Leah? What is it?" Jeruad asked tenatively, he had never seen her in such a bad state. And this was saying something, because he had known Leah as soon as she was born.

"They were wearing claws. Metal claws. They didn't have real claws. They are alloys. Wolfsbane and titanium." She said her voice far away.