I look out to the horizon, where the sun breaks the sky. Shouts come from the distance as colours play out through the ending night. There, another day gone, another night spent awake in fear of a catastrophic end. The light doesn't last long, quickly the dark clouds close in and blot out the sun. I rise, and stand to face the wind. Something has changed, is today the Last day? Will the Light return? Or will we be completely engulfed in darkness?

I return inside, throw on my leather slacks and leather vest and begin my journey down to the barracks, my bow and arrows on my back and several knives concealed on my person. Women and children aren't expected to fight, but something inside me feels compelled to, as if it is my duty to fight for a dying world and to reignite hope.

I take the beaten track that snakes through the woodland beside the small wooden cottage that I call home. The trees conceal my figure as the grass softens the sound of my foot fall. As I approach the barracks shouting and the sound of metal colliding welcome me. I take a moment to look up at the dark brick work of our hastened barracks, before I scale the wall with a hunter's precision. I clamber over the top of the wall and crouch down on the walk, behind one of the dark brick merlins, that faces the training area below. I remove my bow and take an arrow from my quiver, whilst searching for my target. There, his broad shouldered form faces away from me, but I can see a small throwing dagger twirling in his hands, its golden shining through the smoke rising from the fire by the edge of the courtyard. I stand and draw the arrow, take aim and release. The arrow arcs through the air and collides with the blade of the dagger, knocking it from the warrior's hands.

All sound ceases and the dagger clatters to the ground. Those training stop and turn towards the warrior's sitting form and the constant talk quietens into silence, the only sound that remains is the crackle of the fire. Slowly he turns and his gaze rises to where I am now standing. A smile spreads across his face causing me to give a quick laugh before vaulting myself over the merlins and landing gracefully, almost cat like at the edge of the courtyard. Silently I make my way over to him, the eyes of the warriors follow me but I ignore them. Instead I focus on his leaf green eyes and dark brown hair. I focus on the hand that slips the dagger back into its sheath on his hip and on the rigidness of his stance.

A smile and a strong embrace greet me. For a moment I linger in his arms but soon take a step back. "I can see your accuracy is improving Celene, I'm glad you're here. Walk with me?" he questions before he begins up a set of dark steps that lead to a walk along the top of the wall, identical to the one I was recently standing on. "What is wrong Zane?" I ask more than a little troubled. "Something is coming, something we haven't faced before" he glances sideways at me. I give no response, what words are there for a situation like this? We have faced many battles against the dark, what could be different now?