Prologue

Wind rolls across barren fields, harvested in the pursuit of prolong the lives of the humans not far from the edge of the fences. Faceless gusts blew across the orchards and gardens now devoid of fruits and vegetables while the Autumn sun slowly approached the horizon in preparation for the night to take over. And in this still space, the forest nearby sang. That silent force blew through their emerald hair and brushed them against each other, creating a rustling symphony as the insects came to life. Chirping crickets added in their own little musicians, the owls hooting softly as they awoke and moved about. The sky was dark now and the wind had taken a soft chill in contrast to the heated day, sweeping further and further into the trees. Here the forest was wild and untouched in line of a condition of the elves that had lived there previously, allowing the settled humans to stay near but in the forest out of respect of the buried ancestors that lived there. They said it was them that made up the breeze that allowed the forest to breath.....to sing. In this beautiful wood of oaks there was a survivor of a time long past, one the humans told stories of to make sure that their children stayed in bed. With eyes like emerald flames and teeth like daggers, it watched over the forest and made sure trespassers did not tresspass for long. A fairy tale, some said. A myth, said others. But just as the moon rose above and signaled it's time to reign for the night, sparkling emerald eyes opened in a hollow and a dark skinned hand grasped the edge of the wooded entrance. The Ghost had awoken....and it was time to hunt once more.