The boy stared enviously as the other children scattered from the counter, laughing. The merry sound was still unfamiliar to the young boys mouth.

One if the young children - a grinning freckled girl pushed past him. Her features hardened upon seeing him. "Bug off, butt-head!" She hissed to him, pushing him aside roughly. He staggered and fell, grazing his knee. The girl glanced at his dark blood. "Freak!" She hissed again, and scampered off, hopping behind a hay bale.

The boy picked himself up, and backed back into the shadows, watching the seeker like a predator watching its prey. Finally the child reached the chosen number - Thirty - he ran off to a old building, trying to find people. The boy watched his movement, his smoky grey eyes narrowing. He stared at the door way for a few moments then decided to go home.

The dark cobblestone echoed under his feet. The town folk of this small town seemed to draw away from the child. He ignored them, keeping his eyes on his scruffy shoes. The soles flapped as he stepped, slapping the earth. Finally he reached the castle. The guards glanced at him, and opened the gate without speaking. They seemed to be afraid of him.

With he gates open, the siren echoed over the town. It was a safety proportion, in case the castle was opened without warning. Everyone glanced at the boy entering the castle and returned to their daily activities. Everyone was used to him by now. 

The doors opened after a moment. The king stood in front of the boy, his foot tapping as if he expected a explanation for his absence. The boy had none, other than the fact that he simply hated learning the basics of shooting a bow every time he had a new teacher.

Well, if he had enough aim to shoot the previous one in the head, then he must be able to draw a bow.

After a awkward pause, the father sighed, and beckoned the boy in. The child followed silently.

The floors were pure black marble, carved to make it look like it was rippling, like a inky lake. The walls were more white, shimmering in the dark Sun. Everything had a place. Everything was in its place. Nothing looked suspicious or out of place.

Nothing except the poorly hidden gift.

The boy stared at it, then at his dad. The dad sighed. "I don't know if I should give it to you or not..." He mused. The boy stared at the gift. It was long, thing and odd. It looked more interesting then the things he had been given when he was younger.

"Go on then, Tem." The dad sighed. The boy - Tem - nodded his thanks and knelt next to the package. Without pausing to feel it, he tore the package open.

A gleaming black sword rolled out.

The breath rushed out of Tem, as his eyes swept up and down the blade. A single ruby was encrusted in the top, with what looked like a drop of ink inside. The handle was wrapped with leather, for a better grip. The blade itself was long, thin and quite light. Easy to swipe around with, and sharp enough to slice someone in half.

Beautiful.

Tem took the handle hesitantly, clutching it. It was obvious he had no training.

"I'll send you to sword training tomorrow." His father said obediently. He sighed. "Your mother would be so proud.

A flicked of emotion shot through Tem's eyes. Pain. His mother had sacrificed herself for him. Every time he asked his father about it, he would brush him off with a brisk "I'll tell you when your older."

Every single time.

The next day approached too fast. Next thing Tem knew, he was in the neutral zone, waiting with his father to meet the sword trainer. Although his face didn't show it, he was nervous and excited. No-one here would know him. No-one would know him as 'The Spirit Child' and make fun of him.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

The swordsman opened the door to his shack. His father squeezed his shoulder.

"See you later." He said, walking away. Tem didn't look around. He walked into the room, his sword at his belt, and a anxious feeling in his stomach. What if they didn't like him?

The swordsman winked at Tem as he walked in. "Hey." He said with a thick accent. It was the kind of voice that they were supposed to hate.

But not hearing it from a person being tortured in a cage, where they were screaming to kill, it didn't seem so bad. It almost sounded comforting. "Are you Tem?"

He nodded.

The man smiled. "I'm Raven. Your lucky. Your not the only new one." He winked again. "There's a new lady."

Tem shrugged. He wasn't too bothered by girls. Every female he had met had shrunk away from him of bullied him for something he couldn't help.

Tem sat down, placing his new blade in front of him delicately. His thoughts began to wander, until the voice spoke.

The voice had been in his head for as long as he could remember, always whispering to him. It always got louder when he was around a weapon with the chance to kill. It spoke to him.

It was his only friend.

"It's coming. You need to prepare, you need to kill, you need..." The voice echoed in his head instructions. It repeated "It's coming" more times then it ever had.

"What's coming?" He muttered back, glad there was no-one in the room except Raven, who was busy sorting something.

"It. It!" The voice insisted. Tem was about to ask again when the most beautiful girl he had ever seen walked through the door.

She had silky looking blond hair, happy blue eyes, the exact opposite of his smoke like ones, and the happiest smile he could imagine.

After her eyes scanned the room, and rested upon him, his heart quickened. He wanted her to sit down... But also didn't.

He had no idea how to react, so he kept his usual poker-face on. For some reason he glared at her with utter hatred. For no reason.

And that hurt more than words ever had. That one look sent his hopes crumbling.

I'm not going to do Authors notes at the end of each chapter, because as my friend says 'it ruins the feels for the chapter' or something... But someone *cough* Bella *cough* was asking me to update... So I'm gonna say updates on Mondays. Okay? Okay. Cool.