Chapter 1.
blue blood dripped down her arm, the deep navy blue almost matching the colour of her hair. She hissed at the cut, her sword gleaming as she raised it.

The brown haired witch in front her had blood flowing down the side of her face, her sword a sheen of silver.

Avery had been told that this witch had broken the Clan rules, endangering the lives of her fellow sisters.

Avery had been thrown a sword and told to get her ass into the arena straight away.

It was a whirlwind of blue, brown and silver, Avery ending up with her blade at the brown haired witch's throat.

"Kill her," The witch queen said, "she has let down her clan and must pay the price."

Avery hated killing. She found it harder then anything. There was only sorrow and understanding in the witch's eyes as Avery drive the sword into her heart.

The crowd roared, but it was a dull sound in Avery's numb mind. Her best friend, Silvia, looked away, but not before Avery caught the disgust in her eyes.

Of course she got called names like Sister murderer, and unclean witch.

Avery exited the arena, Silvia said by greeting.
"That was Abi's little sister."

Avery didn't have it in her to care at that moment. Avery didn't talk much anyway, having no need to. She was told what to do, she did it.

"You should get your arm checked," Silvia said, her features softening.

Avery nodded like she would, but she wouldn't. She enjoyed the pain, embraced it, because it was her self-set punishment for killing witch's.
~
Hours later, Avery stood in front of the queen, the blood cleaned off her, a bandage covering her arm.

"Avery, I have a very important mission for you," The queen was saying, black hair pinned above her pale face.

"Your Majesty?" A new voice said. It was a younger witch, a messanger.

"Rissa?" The witch queen said sharply.

"There has been a fight in a lower clan, they wish your presence."

The queen hissed, "those lesser witches are getting on my nerves."

It was an offense to the lower clans to be called that, and it also made Avery's stomach tighten. Would the queen order their deaths as well?

"Rissa, tell Avery what she has to know about her mission, and then you will join her."

"I do not need the help of another witch, I can do it alone," Avery said coldly. She did not like other witch's acquainting her on the jobs she received. It ended badly.

"Regardless," The cold witch queen said, "you will take Rissa and teach her your ways."
No room for argument, Avery dipped her head in respect, the queen knew she didn't bow, so that was as close as Avery would get to offering her respect.

The queen stalked out, her cold swagger almost intimidating.
"Her Majesty has ordered you to escort a prisoner to her. A fae warrior, he was captured on the outskirts of witch territory."

A fae warrior? Avery would admit, it had been some time since she's seen one of them.
She'd already calculated that it would take four days to get there and back with this...fae prisoner.

Avery nodded, walking out of the royal tent. The young witch's footsteps followed her. Avery stopped and turned.
Rissa didn't look guilty or inclined to tell Avery why she was following her.

"What," Avery said, her voice cold, "are you doing?"

"Assisting you, Death-Bringer," it was a nickname that her sisters called her. For all the death she brought upon them.

Avery continued walking, ignoring the witchling.

~
Dressed in lethers, covered with steel, Avery decided she would check in with Silvia.

"I have been assigned to a four day task," she said by greeting.

"Where?" Avery have her friend a look that couldn't have been mistaken for anything but 'you know I can't tell you that.'

Silvia sighed. "Be safe." They both knew she wouldn't.

Avery held out her arm, the hidden blades clinking as Silvia brought her own arm to Avery's.

Avery left, the witchling still following her silently. The witch camp was busy, witch's going from one tent to the next.

"Do you know how to get there?" chirped the witchling.

"Yes." Again, that cold, hollow voice.

"How?"

When she was a witchling, Avery trained to be a warrior, the path of her future already planned out. She was taught the whole of the witch territory when she was five.

Witch's lived longer then humans, not entirely immortal but they had the grace of the ageless.

"That's none of your business." Avery finally said. She had been very aware that Rissa was a spy for Her Majesty, the young age a decieving tactic.

"How'd you become Death-Bringer?" Even the queen did not know that, had wanted to know that for the one hundred years Avery had lived with the witch camp.

Avery whirled on the spy. "Another sound from your mouth," she growled, "and I don't care if you're the queen's personal spy, I will rip your tongue out."

The witchling's swallow was audible, her features going pale.
Allowing a tiny smirk to lift at her lips, Avery continued...