Chapter 1
On a dark day, death waits, weaving its way in and out of the crowds scampering throughout their lives. It hums a tune of mourning, and even as it slits the throats of sinners its voice rises above all who scream. It is a monster, and it is beautiful.
…
Sometimes I can’t stand it, the ticking of the grandfather clock, the slam of file organizers and the hum of the coffee machine that nobody thinks to replace even though it produces beverages that are more likely to be categorized as a type of bizarre animal feces than a drinkable source of nutrients, are after all enough to make anyone go insane.
And boy, did I go insane, my temper is like a demon, possessing me when even I don’t expect it, bursting out from even the toughest prisons to make my life miserable. But let’s face it, I was never going to be one to work in an office.
Even surrounded by those closest to me, the walls start to contract, closing in on me and preventing me from protecting my home, New York city.
Most people come to New York to pursue dreams, and like any other place, a reasonable amount of people’s dreams are crushed. But I fell in love with New York for a different reason.
The mask it wears glimmers yet the city underneath writhes in debauchery. It provides hope to the people looking for it and a sense of satisfaction to those who love to cause anguish.
New York is dirty and decaying, falling apart under the reign of everyone touched by its claws. But it is alive. And yes, its breath is raspy and tortured but even though it is bleeding out, I can not seem to remove it from my heart. New York has planted its seed inside of me. Clinging on and refusing to let go.
I can’t help answering its call of torment, I simply run toward it. Peace and chaos were never expected to exist simultaneously yet in this filthy city, war and harmony walk together, creating an illusion of affability and helping others to find normality in turmoil.
However, for as much as my heart refuses to reject the city I have sworn to protect, some days I can’t force myself to remain near it any longer. I suppose that I should have been able to sit down and shut up, cross my legs, bat my eyes, and be the quiet girl who just so happened to be put in charge.
But if anyone knows me, then they also know about my commanding stubbornness, how at only the age of three I took my pair of safety scissors and ripped the nice dresses society expected me to wear. There is no doubt that I was put in charge not because of my family but because of my specific skill set, although today no one seemed to care enough to listen.
The explosion of my temper was enough to impress even me, so it wasn’t a surprise when I was politely excused from work and left to my own devices for the rest of the day. And like any other, I flee to the woods. Or the closest thing that you can call a forest in New York and although it is polluted and crumbling, it is where I choose to spend most of my precious free time.
Grand Woodland Creek is a forgotten park situated around a cul de sac in a rich and protected area just outside of New York. To anyone passing by it would appear to be deserted, and oftentimes the only human residents are the children who live in the surrounding neighborhoods, most of which only stay long enough to litter and smoke weed.
Today the sky is a twisting gray that can only mean one thing, rain. But even with the chance of rain I still venture further into the woods than I have before, always looking for the next big adventure, whether it be climbing a cliff I could just as simply walk around or straying off the paths in pursuit of the great unknown.
The trees today are somehow different, they bend and sway with the harsh winds. As I stumble along the path the thicket of leaves continues to get more and more dense. Almost beginning to get to the point where I am having a difficult time walking along the path without tripping over hidden roots. Up ahead there is a steep hill littered with sharp rocks and gnarly trees that are obviously having a hard time getting enough nutrients on the high-ground.
Maybe, I should go back. I’m tired and the hike to the nearest hint of civilization will hardly leave me with enough energy or time to get back to work. Then, again I’m not exactly sure that I will be welcomed back to the office after the stunts I pulled today. It’s not like they can blunty turn me away but I’m certain there will be an unmistakable silence if I return.
“Solve my riddle, little giiiiiirl. Are you wooooorthy, show me your inteeeeelligence”
I am almost so caught up in my thoughts that I don’t notice it right away. A voice, snaking around me and wrapping itself around my head, repeating over and over again.
“Solve my riddle, little giiiiiirl. Are you wooooorthy, show me your intelligeeeence,” The speaking is ancient and old, a mixture of both wisdom and danger that chills me and makes the forest around me cold and withdrawn. I can’t be sure, but it seems as though several plants wither as the sound of this prehistoric whisper and the trees lean far away, desperate to cower from the power held within its reach.
“Answer, or die,” I do not question if there is truth behind the words, looking around, I try to buy more time before whoever she is follows through with her threat.
“Why? What happens if I refuse to answer?”
“Death is the only consultation for those who remain stubborn.”
“But what if I am naturally stubborn? What if denying my stubbornness is denying the very essence of my being?”
“Then you shall suffer for your sins.”
“Suffer for something I can’t control? That doesn’t seem fair.” By now the thing is bored, impatient to finish this game and probably eat me for lunch. Even now I imagine her licking her lips in anticipation of the kill, slicing me open and letting me bleed out.
“Solve my riddle, What goes on four feet in the morning, two feet at noon, and three feet in the evening?”
“Give me time to think, you can’t expect me to know immediately,” I reply, the thing is in a tree to my right. Our drawn out conversation has given me enough time to stall and pinpoint the location of the lucrative voice. I am just about to reach for the gun hidden behind my back when I catch a glimpse of the source of the voice.
The thing is a lion, or at least part lion, from behind the leaves of the tree I can see the head of a human with golden hair that matches the color of her coat and shines in the sunlight. Something grows from her back, almost wings although that would be impossible. Even now, some type of animal must be blocking my view, making it look like her body is an animal, either that or she doesn’t shave nearly as much as she should.
“Answer.”
“One second, I have to think more,” I’m buying the last of my time and we both know it.
“Answer.”
“I need more time, can’t you see I won’t be able to solve your stupid riddle!”
“ANSWER!” The creature hops from the tree she was perching in, jumping down to the ground and allowing me a full view of her massive body. Against all logic she actually does have the body of a cat and feathered wings. Not only that, but now that I can see her fully, she also seems to have a serpent tail, which, it appears is the only thing not colored a golden tan although even now its green scales shimmer in the limited sunlight.
I react without thinking, pulling out my gun and firing two shots into the chest of the monster but surprisingly the bullets bounce off her hide and ricochet into the dirt, leaving nothing but a scratch mark that heals in an instant.
There is nothing else I can do now, no other methods that I can exploit in order to stall what I now know is inevitable. But then the silver arrow pierces the woman, causing her thick fur to be stained with black blood before dissolving to golden ash.
When I turn to see who shot the rather unconventional yet effective weapon, I don’t expect to see a girl my age, but standing before me is a 16-year-old with a stern expression and wavy, silver hair holding a navy blue bow. But her eyes are the most unsettling of all, piercing gray that tears through me and changes colors with the sky, becoming darker as the clouds cover the sun.
“Who sent you?” She says, holding her bow up like she might actually have to use it.
“What are you talking about? You think I’d try to get myself killed without any type of defense?” My reply is snappy and filled with sarcasm, I want answers and despite her age, this girl doesn’t seem like someone who will give them to me without being questioned.
“Who sent you,” her voice is lower, almost growling. “Was it whoever took my brother?” Her tone is harsh, and as her voice steadily rises so does her bow, already notched with a pointed arrow that appears capable of piercing even the most invincible flesh.
“Listen, thanks for saving me and everything but really, I don’t know how to help you, if you didn’t realize I just almost got killed.”
“Oh please, you were never in any danger,” her eyes are calmer but still guarded, neither one of us has done anything to lower our weapons although even with my firearm it’s obvious who would win in a fight.
“What do you mean, no danger?” I say, my arms crossing defiantly
“I was watching, you would’ve been fine anyway, it wasn’t like I was actually going standby and watch a mortal who didn’t know any less die.” I am tempted to laugh at her unmistakable courage until my humor is abruptly stopped.
The knife flies past my face so fast I barely feel it, another one soars toward me, going to where my head had been just a few seconds ago.
“Run!” The mysterious girl cries, slinging the bow over her shoulder and barreling past me before turning around and shooting whatever was advancing toward us. There is energy in her voice, a sense of commanding that only comes with years of leadership, years that she doesn’t appear to have lived yet still I can sense in her voice. I can feel it as if it were a real thing, shining power on me, enough to make me snap out of the daze of shock and start advancing toward her direction.
Together we sprint deeper into the forest, away from civilisation but also away from whatever is trying to kill us. The silver eyed girl is faster than me, overall she has much more agility and as the trees fly past I can’t tell whether she is running or flying as her feet advance faster and faster, propelling herself forward with more power than I expect her to have.
After a while of running, it becomes obvious that the monsters are far behind us but still the silver eyed girl keeps running. I don’t know how long we’ve run but I notice that we are following something, zigzagging throughout the forest in pursuit of what looks to be an animal, although every time I get a glimpse of it, it dashes away from my view.
Finally we stop, and panting we freeze in a clearing deep in the forest with dark green trees circling us.
“What the bloody f-!” The look on the girl’s face tells me to stop before I finish my sentence but the results are still the same. The silver girl meets my eyes and I am taken aback by the shocking effects they have, the world starts to shimmer metallic and calmness swirls around me.
“What happened? Who was that? Why couldn’t I shoot it? Who are you?” The shock and adrenaline is still tearing through my veins but it is mixed with an overwhelming sense of curiosity.
“I can’t answer all of that, not now, not here in the open.” She says, eyeing the surrounding forest with weary eyes.
“Well what can you tell me?”
The awkward silence in my only answer, telling me that every detail of the events that just happened would be too complex to describe now. Our eyes dart back and forth, meeting each other for a few moments then looking away.
“So...when can you tell me?”
“When we get to the hunters, or at least their cabins which should be unoccupied while they’re out searching.”
“Searching for what? The person you mentioned before? Your brother?” This question hits too close to home and although we are still both panting she turns around and begins walking out of the clearing. Up ahead the animal we were following earlier is visible, and in the early moonlight it shines more brightly that any natural animal could. In the few seconds I look at the silver deer, I fall under a spell and the world starts spinning. The deer is enchanting and in the light of twilight its coat shines brightly, allowing us a slight light to travel by.
“So did you figure it out?” The silver eyed girls asked turning to me
“Figure what out?” I reply
“You know, the answer to the riddle, the only reason everyone still keeps that bratty sphinx around is because we want to know the reply. But I guess we’ll never understand it now.”
“No, my plan was basically to just stall as long as possible.” I whisper in return chuckling slightly. It seems as though anything above a murmur would break the quiet peace we’ve settled on.
“Well, your plan worked surprisingly well for not being a plan at all.”
“Very funny, but I thought I was actually going to die.” I say
“I wasn’t lying before, we try to limit all mortal deaths as much as possible.” She replies
“Mortal, right, so does that mean that you’re-”
“Artemis,” she says, glowing brighter as she says the name until she is shining like a firefly. “Nice to meet you.”
