Prologue

A small girl of around seven trudged up a hill. Her long black ponytail, once full of light and joy, now drooped with intense sadness. Even the golden flecks that usually shone from her green eyes could not be seen. Now, the only shine from her eyes was the shine of unshed tears. But they weren’t unshed for long.

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to stop the sobs from reeking out of her thin frame. She wouldn’t cry; she wasn’t SUPPOSED to cry.

“Demons don’t cry,” she told herself firmly, furiously fighting against the tears. She failed miserably. They poured from her eyes, staining her cheeks. She sobbed and sobbed, rocking back and forth. After the tears subsided, she looked around. There was a village just down the hill. She bit her lip. It was worth a try...

The child walked through the town, looking nervously around.

“You there!” a voice yelled.

The girl froze. The voice called again, and she turned around.

“Are you all right?” a woman asked, walking toward her. Slowly, the little girl nodded.

The woman studied her carefully. The child didn’t look like a demon, and even in the rare case that she was, she was too young to be very dangerous.

“Come with me,” the woman said, holding out her hand. Shaking, the child paused before taking it.

“What’s your name, child?” the lady said kindly.

“Arisa,” the girl whispered, “I’m Arisa,”

“Well, Arisa,” the woman said, smiling, “Where are your parents?”

Arisa’s lip quivered.

“Dead,” she said, even more quietly. The woman suddenly looked sympathetic.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” she asked, pulling Arisa gently toward her home. Arisa nodded.

“Two brothers,” she said, “But they can take care of themselves,”

The woman smiled softly before pulling the little girl into her hut.

Nine years later, 16 year old Arisa opened her eyes, awakening from her dreams of the past.