Fourteen years later, in a flash of red hair flying across the village, the community's emergency sirens began going off in all directions.

The sound alone began bursting any eardrum in miles.

Pieces of debris were flying all over the place, narrowly missing women and children. A mass panic had begun throughout the tribe as everyone rushed themselves to safety.

Screams of pain fluttered in the air like a broken record.

War was coming and fair few survived a hell like it.

"Bring me those bowls of water!" The brunette healer shouted in a rush of panic as she attempted to aid the fallen witches and all their injuries that came with them.

For one person the job was nearly impossible, but her usual helper was mysteriously missing today.

Smoke filled the air as the flames grew around the healer's tent. The fire narrowly missed the tent and the people inside of it, leaving scorch marks around it in a perfect miracle circle.

"Asha!" A voice shouted across the mass panic of people.

A cloth dabbed in water, being put on top of a woman's forehead. She had a scratch going across it, blood pouring from the cuts. A nasty gash that looked unfamiliar and painful.

"Asha, your daughter is missing!" The red hair spoke as she came to stand in front of the healer.

The woman with fair skin looked over, panic swirling in her brown eyes as she stared at Hestia.

"Who saw her last?"

"I did," came the strong voice of the young master.

Alisa had long ago dubbed him 'Ace' for his perfect archery skills.

They spent a lot of time together growing up, making them almost something akin to friends.

But even then, witches didn't have things like friends. It was family in way that only recognised their own species, but the men and women weren't held in the same regard either.

An unbalanced world they had found themselves content in.

Nobody was equal in this community, for the males were believed to be anointed by the gods themselves.

Asha huffed, rolling her eyes as she mixed the herbs a little too roughly in annoyance.

"You two," she murmured to herself.

She did quietly hope though that he would choose her Alisa as his Witch Bride one day if they were spending so much time together.

It would be an honour to her ancestors and the generation of healers.

The Clan Leader hardly ever chose a bride from the lower rank of witches. They preferred someone of higher class which assured a powerful witch bride to birth a truly remarkable heir.

Their traditions were simple but clear.

Emerson shook her head, putting herbs down in an empty bowl.

"They're always getting in trouble," she whispered, a smirk peeking through her lips.

Her dark-skin glowed with sweat as she broke the herbs into little pieces and then began mixing them together, slowly and calculatedly.

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"Pipe down, young girl," Asha said disapprovingly as she looked back at Ace.

"Find her before we lose her," she instructed Ace with worry lacing her voice.

In a second, Asha had taken the bowl of herbs off Emerson and then promptly began to feed them to the woman lying on the buffalo skin.

After another moment, Asha began chanting quietly to herself.

Nodding, Ace took off in a flash.

With hope that he hadn't just lost a friend to a foe, he begged his legs to run just that bit faster. The redhead followed closely behind, ready to fire spells to protect the young Aryan.

After all, he was the next heir – losing him would be a big problem for their clan. Ace hated the funny title secretly, but to the public he was the perfect dotting son and heir.

The young master never missed a beat.

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Behind enemy lines, hiding among the trees, lay a waiting predator.

Almond-shaped, blue eyes calculating the enemy's every move.

The black birthmark forming sun rays, illuminated in the dark.

A fighter by instinct – A healer by birth.

Every time a werewolf made a particularly louder noise than before she would jump between the trees. Shielding from the harsh rain, she used the leaves to conceal her presence.

"Find the heir and kill him!"

Just as the Alpha barked the order, Alisa was pulled from the trees and back to their home territory.

"Are you mad, Alisa?"

"No, Ace, I am perfectly fine," she huffed in response. "Is it so wrong of me to want to fight too?"

A frown appeared on the fair-haired boy's face.

Purple eyes staring into blue with such sadness that it tugged on her heart strings – if she were to have any that is.

A weird emotion she hardly felt but when she did, it was always because of him.

Witches found emotions to be wrong, that having an intimate relationship with someone was not done in their culture.

Friendship counted as far too intimate for the likes of them, but Alisa loved pushing the rules just that little bit every time.

"You never use your magic! You want to fight like a barbarian! It is not done, Alisa!"

The brunette girl huffed, "You say everything I do isn't done! I was blessed to be a fighter – I was trying to fight for our village!" She screamed, glowing redder by the minute.

"What were you doing, Ace?" Alisa spat the question at him as if it were a vile piece of fruit.

"I told you not to call me that, it's not right. And, well," He started and then faltered, trying to finish the all too puzzling question.

Blue eyes began to roll as Alisa turned away, looking down at the river that ran south of the village.

She saw her dirty complexion in the water, feeling ashamed at how she became an animal whenever someone threatened her home.

Maybe Ace was right; something about her just wasn't right inside.

"I was...trying to find you. Uh, to make sure your mother knew you weren't lost or uh, taken," he quickly responded, trying to cover the lid on the abundance of feelings he felt when he looked at the brunette beauty of fourteen.

He was far too old for her and she was merely a healer of all people. His father expected someone of high class just like his own mother, Indira, was.

There were just some rules even the next Leader had to abide by.

"My mother? Ace, just be honest," she stated, turning back towards him, eyes boring into him with mild curiosity and frustration.

"Why can't we fight like they do? Like barbarians?"

"Because...well, it's just not done, okay?"

"If we want to beat a predator, we must become one!"

"I disagree with you."

"Well, you're not the Clan Leader yet. I can request a trial to have my opinions met," Alisa fired back, determined to protect her home at all costs.

Even if it meant going behind her best friends back to keep him alive.

She still hadn't forgotten what they said out there.

It was gnawing at her insides, begging to never be a reality.

"He hardly ever bothers with the healers of all people," Ace responded, feeling torn as he brushed her off slightly.

"And the notion of fighting an animal... like, well, an animal, is utter madness. My father would never go for it," continued the nineteen-year-old.

A smirk appeared on her lips.

"It's because it's the smart idea – that's why he'd entertain the notion of this barbaric madness," Alisa said with a nod, as if assured she would do what was best for this village.

Even if it cost her the one thing a witch needs in order to survive; a soul.

The redness began to ebb away, as she no longer glowed with anger and untapped magic. Her heart was no longer beating as erratically as before and she had calmed her breathing right down.

"Just don't leave me here to deliver unwelcome news to Asha! Your mother hates it when you're disobedient!"

Ace screamed after Alisa as she darted back through the trees to find their Clan Leader. Ace was already steps behind her in her haste.

His life was more important than his lecture and she would just have to show them that.

"Don't worry Ace, remember; I'm protected by the gods!"

With a mumble, Ace had put a protection spell upon her, hating her sassy 'I'm untouchable comments'.

It had started when she was six and it hadn't quite stopped since.

Nobody would be able to see or hear her due to the spell until she declared her presence in front of his father.

Someone that hell bent on an audience with the Leader, knew morsels of information Ace was yet to know.

Something inside of him trusted her in ways that were foreign to their culture.