I take a deep breath. The forest is still, encased in silence. Hushed. My bow is poised within my hands. A single arrow strung pleading to be fired. I let it go.

It slices through the silence like a knife. A thunk tells me that it found home on the side of a deer. Leaping from my oaken refuge, I dash towards the fallen creature. A clean shot. Right through the eye. Swinging my bow back onto my back, I reach for my dagger in my belt.

I hate cleaning my hunt. It's an awfully messy and most likely disgustingly gruesome business. I also don't like killing animals unless I have to. I do have to. It's not my fault. I need to hunt to survive.

My name is Drevial- just plain old Drevial. I'm 14. I am probably the only girl in the whole of Fortris, who hasn't the foggiest idea what her full name actually is and who in the world are her parents. I've been an orphan for as long as I can remember; I do have a grandma though. I live with her outside Fortris, which is basically really close to the King's hunting grounds- my hunting grounds. Hey, don't blame me. I'm only borrowing them.

My grandma, Selene, isn't strong enough to work anymore and does the best to support me. I can't let her work for me anymore. She has done enough. She is too old to do work and I'm just a regular teenage girl so there goes my chances of employment down the drain.

'' Rest in peace deer.'' I whisper before placing the final pieces of edible flesh in my satchel.

I place the carcass underneath the shadows of  a tree. The carcass still has some meat left. That's for the wolves, foxes, ravens and whoever wants it. They have to eat to.

I start running. I have to. It's because I'm doing something that is seriously illegal and can be killed if caught. They haven't caught me yet.

I keep a sharp lookout if I see any of those boneheaded guards. I'm certainly in the mood for having a death-wish. The wind is crisp bearing the smell of autumn fading away and the arrival of the cold spell- winter. I really need to start stocking up on food. It's considerably harder to hunt during winter.

I halt to catch my breath. There it is. The Lake. The King's Lake. Oh hang the King! He can't own everything, can he? Even kings can't own the world no matter how much power and money they have. There will come a time when everyone and everything will fade from it's existence. The world will be as barren as it was since the beginning of it. There will be no-one to remember us and whatever we do will one day be forgotten. Our deaths will not permit us to take our worldly riches with us. The only thing we truly need is a pure heart, wise mind and whole soul. Then again this may all be an illusion- just like this world I'm living in now.

I'm always nagged by this feeling that the life everyone leads here is curtained. As if reality is hidden. As if we walk on our path of life with this veil covering our eyes. Or maybe it's because I'm that weird, sadistic, psychopathic girl nobody likes.

Honestly, I don't care that I don't have friends. If they can't appreciate me for who I am then I might as well wander friendless through life. I wasn't made to please them nor will I ever be.

I sit by the still waters of the lake. Plunging my hands in, I allow the cool water to wash my thoughts away. The girl staring back at me in the depths of the lake is not exactly pretty. Black hair, blue eyes, olive skin with an oddly shaped apple-cheeked face, which gets thinner towards her chin. A tattered green cloak drapes her. A mask hangs about her neck waiting to be used to...

"Hey you!'' a voice shouts,''Stop!''

I'm already up on my feet ready to make my escape. I hastily pull out a dagger and throw it at my persecutor without looking back. Hopefully, it'll serve as a distraction.

I start running. Running and running. Everything is all a blur. I stumble and fall letting out a single scream as an arrow kisses my shoulder. Gripping the wound I try to get up.

The blood is sticky and seeps through my fingers. My head hurts from the fall. It's not over. I will fight. I will get away. There's no way I'm going to get caught.

Finally, I feel steady enough. My feet are finally being cooperative. In a split second I feel the cold blade of a knife behind my back. Oh no.

''It's the end of the line. Yield!- and suffer my wrath.''