The Whisper of the Nightingale

The Dark Forest. A place that everybody feared. The trees in this forest were so tall and so dense that the forest floor had since long been cast into a stage of perpetual darkness. Many camp-fire stories have been told about this unfriendly place, and the numerous people that have entered, supposedly, never to return. Most people see these myths as just that, myths, but despite the world being in an age of technology, were every inch of the globe was meticulously studied, explorers had never quite been able to navigate through the entire Dark Forest. . . .

Deep in this otherwise silent place the quiet night was interrupted by the light sound of someone running. A young woman was rushing through the dense woods. Normally this person's running wouldn't make a sound, no matter how hard the young woman pushed herself to run, but today was different. If one were to look closely, one would notice that the sleek, black, leathery suit she was wearing was drenched in blood. This in itself was not unusual for her, but this time, most of the blood was hers.

On her back sat a small child whose long, silvery hair whipped wildly behind them as they made their way deeper and deeper into the forest. The child was a young teenager, at most, but had a very androgynous appearance making it hard to tell if it was a girl or a boy. The child's originally white clothes were now dyed red from tightly hugging the running woman.

"Just a bit further, Miss Night!" the child urged.

"Quiet!" hissed the woman; she was afraid that someone might pin-point their location through their voices.

Unfortunately, her fears were not without reason, because a couple hundred meters behind her, dozens of people in black cloaks were rushing to catch up to them. They were being hunted and the distance between the hunters and the prey was slowly shrinking.