Prologue

Maya ran for about ten minutes when she arrived at the foot of the hill, but it seemed that her race had lasted more than an hour. She felt the rain falling in torrents intruded into her skin and froze her bones. The winds swirled around her as if they had the will to combat her. The mass of the hill stood before her, menacing in the dark.

She remembered the hours spent at the top with her husband. In summer, under the sun, when she was embraced in the arms of Alderon, this hill seemed so much less scary than this. But it is above what she could to find that scared her.

Although the slope was gentle, moist soil that hid beneath her feet made her progress difficult. She was obliged to help her hands for balance. Many times, her feet slipped and she found herself face down in the mud, digging her fingers into the soil to recover.

When she finally reached the top, a dark mass lying on the ground caught her eyes immediately. She froze for a moment. Her doubts were confirmed. She felt her heart pounding in her chest, as if to leave. Although she could not see at that distance who it was, she knew it was Alderon.

She moved slowly at first, then quickened her pace. The rain redoubled intensity. She threw herself on the body and took him in her arms. Alderon was unconscious but still breathing heavily. She tenderly pressed against her chest and felt the tears running down her cheeks. The time had stopped. Nothing existed around her, nor cold, nor rain, nor wind that she perceived just howling. She felt the heat of Alderon and shallow breathing. She remained in this state for several long minutes, trying to convince herself that this was all a nightmare.

However, her senses sharpened by years of training pulled her from her torpor : the other was still there, close. She raised her head, pushed a strand of wet hair stuck to her face. Violent raindrops whipped her skin forced her to squint. She managed nevertheless to distinguish a figure a few yards ahead.

Lightning streaked the sky at this time, revealing the face of the man who was watching. He was a teenager. He was perhaps sixteen, barely. Yet his face was terrifying: he had a look of insane, hard, fixed, with dilated pupils. Veins were protruding from his forehead. Long dark hair was plastered by rain across his face. He stood erect, rigid against the wind, arms dangling. He wore a long black coat that flapped in the gusts will. But what terrified Maya the most is that toothy smile, as if what he was about to do will give him immense pleasure.

He slowly raised his arm, index finger to her and shouted:

- It's your turn now!

Maya stood up and faced him. She was ready to fight. If she would die, it would be by fighting. At that moment, she no longer feared for his own life. She had one last thought for Shara and her other childrens, then threw herself on her opponent.

Next : chapter 1