Once upon a time there was a forest, it was not the deepest nor the darkest, it was not home to any witches, ogres, trolls, or goblins. The gangly trees were only slightly more alive than average, and no cults of dubious origin resided within the dimly lit reaches. It was simply a plain boring old forest that didn’t have any distinguishing features one could name the region after.

The most interesting thing presently within these uninteresting woods was a lonesome girl garbed in an old, hooded cloak, who wondered this way and that through the densely packed trees. Over hillocks and down hills, she meandered, following no path with not even a hint of a destination in mind. Her footsteps were uneven, and she gripped her furiously rumbling stomach trying to will away her extreme hunger. She distracted herself trying to imagine the types of animals that might live within the dull landscape such as lions, or tigers or bears. She liked the idea of a bear, even if she had never seen one, from the scant bits and pieces told to her she formed a mental image that was wildly incorrect and, in some ways, infinitely worse than the reality.

As it would happen on her wayward travelling, she passed several dens belonging to bears, wolves, foxes and even a beaver’s dam, all recently abandoned with the days well-earned meal still resting at the dining table. She once spotted the extended ears of what she believed was a rabbit, however, attempts to approach the creature were met with disappointment as the furry beast high tailed it before the girl could even make out the shape of its surprisingly tall horns.

Recalling her failed encounter, the girl stopped her endless trudge granting her sore bare feet a chance to rest and soak the ground with a trickle of blood. The “rabbit” had looked nothing like the fluffy bundle of joy she was told it to be. Everything she knew about rabbits contrasted with the creature as it was large, stood on its hind legs and had a pair of jagged horns that fit in quite nicely with the barren tree branches. Had the animal not perked its head up and stared at the girl she may have missed it. She thought it was a friendly greeting, an invitation to come closer and have a seat, perhaps enjoy some refreshments and hear tales of the creatures many wacky adventures. Instead, the rabbit looked at her, puffed the fur all along its body and hopped away with fervent enthusiasm. If the girl’s Papa were here, he could have told her why the rabbit was running and why it looked so different just before he too ran for the hills away from the monster.

The girl looked around taking in her scenery for the umpteenth time, the same backdrop for days on end without a landmark or eye-catching monument to spice up the journey. The lack of critters only added to the girls ruined walk, what she wouldn’t give for a chance encounter with a fluffy beast. In all honesty the most haunting creature within those dim woods was the girl herself even if she had no idea as to why. A lack of food, water and proper care may have been the cause as the girl appeared skeletal and haggard, her face a hollow mask of the youth she possessed. Her tattered brown cloak stained black in places with old blood didn’t help matters and the rags she wore underneath were barely holding themselves together with frayed pieces of string clinging on for dear life. The ensemble wasn’t much good for keeping the girl warm the few times she tried to sleep but if nothing else she had been taught the necessity for modesty and presentation.

The girl’s face dropped recalling her Papa’s lessons, she missed his voice and his company, after all he is… was the only family she had ever known. Turning her head back the way she came, she looked forlornly into the distance. Could she turn back? Could she try and meet up with the others that escaped? No, there was no chance of that, she walked for days with no stop and wandered so aimlessly she wasn’t even sure what direction her “home” was anymore.

Sighing to herself, the girl lifted shaky hands up to her face trying to rub away the physical and mental fatigue. Moping would do nothing and, no matter what, she was bound to find something, someone or somewhere of interest in this divine forsaken forest. She didn’t know what awaited her along her journey, all she knew was she wouldn’t die here in this place. She was unequivocally sure of that, and no whispering woods or absentee fauna would dissuade her. Plastering on a forced smile, the girl took another step on her endless trudge and promptly tripped on an exposed root slamming hard against the ground. She laid there unmoving against the relatively comfortable dirt and leaves, blood pooling from a fresh gash on her nose and let out a muffled groan. Forced optimism would only get her so far, she was tired, she was cold, hungry, bleeding from the soles of her feet and now face too. There was one thing worse than everything else however, something that the girl couldn’t find an answer to. Worse than the loneliness, worse than the hunger, worse than the dignified and classy if repetitive voice that spoke in her head describing her environment and terrible circumstances. It was a curse no living creature should ever be forced to endure.

“I am so bored…”

She muffled out to no one in particular in a voice that bordered on breaking from lack of proper sustenance. She tried drinking from a river once, unfortunately dipping her head directly into the flowing waters had gotten her a rock to the face. Since then, she wrote off all rivers as unsafe and cruel mistresses of this evil forest.

“Someone should burn it all, the rivers and the woods and the sky…”

If she had the strength, she might have done it herself, but there was no chance she would be setting any fires in her current state. The girl remained prone on the soft and inviting dirt refusing to take another step until something interesting happened or the world was set ablaze, it didn’t matter which happened first. Providence was on her side, it seemed, as the sound of something smacking repeatedly against wood reached her ear. The noise had in fact been repeatedly going on for some time, but the girl was unable to hear it over the beat of her heart and the groan of her stomach thumping in her ears.

Finding newfound determination and growing tired of wallowing in the mud, the girl rose to her feet not bothering to wipe the muck off her cloak. She ventured forth to find the mysterious sound and hopefully unearth anything interesting in this dire set of woods.

In a semi-large clearing, there sat a splintered and ragged stump that was marked with countless scratches, cuts and scuffs. The stump was once a mighty and powerful tree, so vast its roots ate up all the nutrients within a thirty-metre radius preventing its conifer brethren from drawing closer lest they two become food for the former tree. It was so old and rife with life it near enough developed a consciousness although even if it did have the power to think or articulate itself it wouldn’t. Thoughts and emotions were for fleshy lower lifeforms that needed such a waste of resources to survive. That was until the neighbours moved in. Within a week of their arrival the tree had been brought low with the loss of more than two thirds its mass stolen away in the early morning to the wretched axeman. A little known secret but, plants and plant adjacent do not sleep, once again a fleshy disadvantage, thus the former tree was forced to witness the mutilation of its body with unrelenting awareness. Now the tree sat, a stump, old and slowly withering while its crumbling bark was chipped away by the axeman’s accomplice. Although a tree had no need for thoughts or speech, if this stump possessed either it would use these powers to have words with the axeman, and he would be shamed like no other had ever been shamed. As a blade struck the stumps side and failed to stick the disrespected tree decided to add the axeman’s underling to its shame list as well.

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Spending her afternoon taking pot shots at a justifiably upset tree was a girl near enough a woman with a strong toned physique built upon years of hard work and dedication. She was garbed in mismatching and poorly made leather gear fastened tight without a single loose strap or exposed piece of skin bar her head. A belt circled her waist featuring a carefully maintained if rarely used hunting knife secured horizontally within its sheath. A shock of onyx black hair adorned the girls scalp tied back into a ponytail which her uncle and only kin disapproved of greatly. He argued any free-flowing strands were nothing but a hazard to be taken advantage of and would sooner see his niece bald. The girl however, rebelled against the notion, her hair being the only source of control she had and wouldn’t give up a single lock without a fight. Any onlookers, especially of the gaunt cloaked variety, observing her would be met with the image of a woman on the cusp of maturity with an angelic warrior’s appearance like a Valkyrie. This image would quickly be shattered when her usual scowl etched its way onto her face and a rough angry voiced escaped her lips.

“YOU SON OF A- I SWEAR TO ALL THAT IS DIVINE I WILL- “

Tossing a rock far into the distance, the warrior named Valerie cursed several more times at nothing and everything to vent out her frustrations. Grip, focus, release. Grip, focus, release. Grip, focus, release. Her uncle’s instructions rang through her head adding to her unspent fury. Grip the handle, focus on the target, release at the apex of her throw. It was all that simple he would say.

“And yet I can’t flipping reach the DIVINE BE DAMNED TREE!”

She screamed at the broken stump who would have returned the verbal lashing with its own vitriol tenfold if it could. Attempt after attempt ended with her practice knives smacking uselessly against the bark. At five metres she landed most of her throws, ten metres was less ideal, but she was still sinking a respectable number of the blades into the tree. Fifteen metres on the other hand was somehow proving impossible. If her goal for today’s training was to hit around the target, then she would be a virtuoso by now.

Releasing a frustrated breath, Valerie trudged towards the stump and gathered up her training tools, giving the decaying wood a frankly unnecessary kick for good measure. Several of the knives were already showing signs of wear and would be useless to her. This only added to her boiling temper, she recalled watching her uncle land throws from more than forty metres and not even one was chipped. If she could just call on the power inside her, the task would be trivial, but her uncle forbade it. What was the use in training her core skills if she used an easy handicap? Ultimately, she agreed, this wasn’t a chore, it was training and short cuts never helped anyone improve.

Walking back to her starting position, Valerie dropped a bundle of knives gripping one between her thumb and index finger. She set her stance, focused on the target and took several deep breaths finding a sense of calm. She slowly reared her right hand back and, with considerable might, tossed the knife straight and true. The blade spun brilliantly through the air like a bird gliding amongst the clouds. Unfortunately, the bird was deaf, dumb and blind flying towards certain doom in a similar fashion to how Valerie’s knife flew right over the stump landing far into the treeline. Exploding with curses yet again, Valerie spewed unladylike venom at the tree stump, her uncle and everything she could set her eyes on. The teenage girl let her anger fly like the dagger sent beyond the clearing’s boundary almost missing her sole audience members raucous applause.

Valerie’s fit was cut short, snapping her gaze at the noisy bush where her knife landed, she tried to find the source of the sound. She reached behind her back and rested her right hand on the sheathed hunting knife, her eyes laser focused on the now silent shrubbery. Leaning down, she blindly gathered up the remaining throwing knives and listened intently for signs anything or anyone was trying to sneak up. An errant thought, a moments distraction, entered her mind and she grit her teeth in anger.

“Uncle if this is another of your “tests” I swear to all that is divine I am not in the mood for it right now.”

It would not be the first time he pulled such a stunt to test her awareness much to Valerie’s annoyance. No sound or sudden reveal followed, not surprising, her uncle promised more than once that he would not pull such a prank anymore and then did it anyway. That man was as no nonsense as you could get yet had a sick sense of humour when it came to training. Something was off however, typically her uncle would have pounced by now, sprung a trap she never knew was there or create a new diversion causing Valerie to split her focus and be taken by surprise. Yet, nothing happened, it was eerily quiet. Swinging her left arm, Valerie casually threw one of her knives towards the bush. It was not meant to be a precise toss, but surprisingly she landed a blow all the same. From out of the silence an odd and crackly voice unmistakenly said ‘ow’.

Valerie froze for a second, confused at the nature of her uncle’s latest trick. The voice did not sound like him at all it was too meek, high pitched and feminine. Could he have paid off a bystander from some distant town or hamlet to be a distraction? Who in their right mind would travel this far for a few coins? Valerie shook her head and readied herself again, this is exactly the kind of ploy he would use to test her, nothing was off the table when it came to that lunatic. The stalemate with the talking bush lasted a few more seconds as Valerie waited for any follow up or big reveals. She would no doubt receive some reprimand for not accounting for every possibility, but she learned to tune out her uncles’ lectures for the most part. Drawing a deep breath, Valerie spoke loud and clear to the intruder.

“I know you’re there! You can come out now! I don’t care what my uncle paid you or what you get out of this but the games over!”

Nothing, no further movement or sounds followed her declaration. A chill slowly crawled up Valerie’s spine as she realized just how unnaturally quiet it had become. Except for her own breathing, no sound entered or exited the clearing not even the distant sound of birds dared venture any closer. There was also something wrong with her vision, the area around the bush was strangely dark in the afternoon sun and her eyes kept slipping off or trying to shift away. Was this some new trap her uncle had concocted? Or maybe a spell? Deciding this farce was done she raised her voice once again demanding the intruder’s full attention.

“ENOUGH! SHOW YOURSELF NOW OR I WILL DRAG YOU OUT!”

A single heartbeat later, a figure in a tattered cloak shot up from the shrubbery shocking Valerie who unconsciously stepped back from the sudden appearance of the hooded stranger. It was difficult to tell specifics due to the distance, but the newcomer appeared smaller than Valerie by about a foot. Their hands were raised in a sign of surrender, the exposed palms appearing physically human although one was slick with blood from a fresh cut. A trickle of pride filled Valerie at not just hitting the person before her but managing to cut them too. The strangeness of the situation overtook all else, however. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make out the figures shape beneath their cloak or the hood obscuring their face which appeared to obscure more than she believed it rightly should. Something about the darkness around them seemed to cling to the cloak unsettling her further. Dragging the hunting knife out of its sheath, Valerie prepared against any assault from this strange person feeling the magic within her veins surge to life. The intruder didn’t react, standing completely still with their hands raised high awaiting further orders. Valerie pointed her weapon at the invader and spoke up.

“Who or what are you?”

Across the clearing the cloaked girl knew she was in trouble. She had just wanted to watch this person throw hunks of metal at the tree stump, it was not the highest form of entertainment, but it was something to pass the time. She spent a good twenty-minutes kneeling beyond the clearing, watching enraptured at the person throw knives at the stump, miss, yell out in frustration then repeat the process. It was almost funny, but she knew better than to laugh when someone was at work. The girl’s quiet repose was cut short when a knife came hurtling towards her, missing by inches. She wasn’t quite sure where the feeling came from but seeing the impressive throw caused the girl to clap in admiration, an action she sorely regretted. Realizing her mistake, the girl dropped to the ground and tried with all her will power to turn invisible. It didn’t work.

Laying against the dirt once again, the girl did her best unassuming rock impression, ignoring the other ones demands. Her home didn’t have many other girls her age and certainly none as ferocious as that one. The girl hoped the angry knife thrower would give up and go back to the game, a hope that was dashed as another blade landed directly on her exposed hand eliciting a cry of pain.

Now here she was caught red handed (literally) and at the mercy of her captor but perhaps she could turn the tide in her favour. The girl thought back to her Papa’s stories of heroes and villains, the heroes would always make a grand announcement when asked just who they were. Having her own name demanded of her was somewhat similar and who was she to break tradition? Building her courage, the girl drudged up all the strength she had left for what could only be called the most stupendous introduction that had ever taken place in that forest. Lowering her hands, the girl sucked at the blood on her palm using the moisture to sooth her throat and painting her face redder in the process. As if the universe was encouraging her, a gust of wind blew through the clearing flipping the girls hood back to reveal a mess of golden hair adorning a pale bloodied face. Reaching deep within her gut the girl spoke as loud and proud as she could muster.

“My names Samantha!”

The girl threw her cloak open and stretched her arms wide summoning a power she was still learning the ins and outs of. Tendrils of darkness snaked out of the gloom surrounding the girl and forming a protective legion of wriggling black tentacles.

“… and I have the aspect of Shadow!”