In the depths of the Swedish Forest, a group of people with special powers are hidden by governments all over the world. The armies call them into any kind of situation they find they can't handle. Sabian and his friends find this highly irritable, but the pay is always good.
But when they begin to uncover the plot of a huge evil rising from the depths of the world, Sabian and his companions have to find a way to use a seemingly normal girl to even start to fight this as faced with the largest threat the world has ever found...


1. The Freak Show


 I loved the breeze. Just lying there, picking out bits of things to think about, just about nodding off. The rustling leaves were more of a melody to me and it had been a hell of a day, so this was pure paradise.

 Preacher had been lecturing me all day about the flow of energy in the cove. He was an old man and knew just about anything that I was bored by. That's probably why he picked on me the most. I didn't have that much of a complicated mind. All I knew was that the rest of the world didn't know that me or my kind was there, and as far as I was concerned, that's all I ever needed to know. I knew about some blind spot that the world was always self encouraged not to go to. But that was the first thing that I learnt in his first class. What's more, that was the only shred of information I willingly chose to listen to.

 Philosophy wasn't my strong point. I was more into the practical work. Some people thought it might be the thrill of holding a sword and fighting for the lives of innocent people (even though I was better with bows and arrows on my back than a sword on my waist). Some people thought it was the feeling of being around normal humans that did it. I knew it was both. And, of course, flying dragons. That was the best part of my childhood for me. Learning about the dragons, what my kind used them for. Then there was the worship that humans gave to us for taming and using dragons. All this had inspired me. This, I knew, I would succeed in achieving. Then, the dragon riders, the sky warriors, and then who knows the limits of my potential.

At this particular moment, my father did, and that was falling asleep in a rickety old tree-house that my mother never liked the look of. It had two barriers that covered the sides that were facing the lake. One of the others was were the ladder leading to the platform ended, on the other side, there was a thick portion of the oak tree that supported to the rickety piece of wood that only just covered the length of the wood.

“Sabian! Come down here at once, boy!” Tufial bellowed in a voice that shook the tree itself, “It's your shift on the lookout post!”

The sudden tremor had woken me with an unwanted start. I immediately swung my arm around, brushing moss off the decaying wood as it went, to find my spring knife. I spun around quickly to find I was not stabbing an attacking demon wolf, but falling leaves.

“If you can beat me in a knife fight, wee laddy, I'd neither be pleased, nor angry, but shocked that you actually did something right with that old thing!” My father chuckled, recalling the last time his son tried to cut open a fish, and almost sliced the tail off a passing squirrel.

“Yeah, well I've never actually hurt anyone with it!” I commented, trying to defend myself.

“Only because I never let you hold it much!” Tufial stated, slapping me on the back, which made me drop my knife into his hands.


I knew there was no point in trying to argue with the towering man who was standing over me. Tufial was nicknamed “Tough Nut” because of three factors. He was tough in a fight, tough in an argument, and tough to pull away from Caleb's bar. He had the strongest Scottish accent I had ever heard. It was obvious that he was living in the Scottish hills before he volunteered to help our kind. He never told me his real name, said it wasn't important. To this day, there are so many secrets surrounding that man. There was a regime to get as many men they could to support our community. He was one of the first to sign up. Obviously, they didn't announce to the public that we were here. They said they were setting up a new and permanent division of human rights workers and told people that the job would make them change their lives. Tufial had no ties to where he was living, so jumped at the chance to start a new life somewhere else. Making a difference. He never told me what happened to the rest of my family either. It was only when they got here that the volunteers realised how much of a difference they were making. But Tufial got what he wanted. A new life. So much so that he met a new woman after his late wife had died in a car crash. This new woman would later be my mother. They weren't married, but they saw no need to be. They didn’t see the need in a piece of paper and two rings to show how much they loved each other. I found that beautiful.

I walked halfway down the wood, still feeling the wind through my wavy hair, transporting myself to memories of looking down on the world... until a wolf jumped me.

“Knock it off Chaz!” I shouted at the slobbering jaw of teeth. The 'wild dog' stood up on his strong hind legs to find himself a 14 year-old boy staring at my frustrated expression, trying not to show how much he was laughing.

“Someone's in a mood then!” Charka exclaimed with a huge grin on his smug face.

“Don't start.”

“Start what! I didn't say anything!”

“You didn't need to, and you know it. Anyway, why aren't you in meditation?”

“Oh, whatever man.” Chaz sulked, turning the tables. Now I was trying not to laugh.

“I was only saying!”

“Yeah, and I'm only saying the same thing to the last six people who have asked the exact same question that you just did.”

“I was only messing.” I chuckled, ruffling Chaz's hair. Charka had long, black hair which had a dark-red fringe that swept over to cover his left eye. This never impaired his vision. In fact, he often spotted things before his colleagues did when in the field. Preacher described it as a lifelong connection with the human world. I preferred to say that Chaz had an extremely good right eye. The eye he did show was mat black. This was normal for a teenage shape-shifter, and would become a bold crimson. He had a mysterious tone in his voice that didn't suit his joker-like nature. He always wore a black leather trench coat that he bought from London. He would never be parted with it, even in the cove where no human could see him. He had no other casual trousers other than dark blue jeans. I had always wondered why he used human clothes. I assumed that it made him feel more like the rest of the world. He had never been able to fully control his transformations, and had many times accidentally transformed in the field when humans could see him. No-one else had ever blamed him for the incidents, but he would always be too hard on himself after each time it happened. A shape-shifter's teenage life is hard, let alone when you have behavioral difficulties.

“So what you up to today then? I hear that your father has twisted your arm into something again.” He said, with a mischievous look on his face.

“I need to do another shift on the lookout tower,” I replied.

“Again!?” My persistent friend complained, “You've done it more than six times in this month!”

“I know. But considering I am the only person with telepathy that doesn't live in the the tower, they sort of need me.”

“Oh please! You need the others to actually use your extra powers. That's why you always volunteer to go up there! The only other power you have is a good shot with that thing,” Chaz mocked, pointing at the bow and quiver of arrows on my back.

“I volunteer to go up there because the others are always up there on their own!” I exclaimed, offended by the fact that he always needs older people to help him. I always prided myself upon on my rebellious and independence directed at people older than me.

“But surely you must get bored,” Chaz said, implying another option of going into the square.

 Before I replied though, a boring, monotone voice came from the tannoy in the main hall.

 “Sabian Trelhouser to the master’s office, please. Sabian to the master’s office.”

 I groaned in disgust. “What you don’t remember Chaz,” I started, “is you chose to be a dark hunter. I had no choice but to be a military adviser.”

 We were forced into work when we were young as order of the humans. As we were used to serve the protection of the human race against anything that was in anyway similar to any powers we possessed. This meant we were almost all put into the military services. Cruel, I know, but if we didn't obey them, we wouldn't be protected. Think of it as someone paying the rent so the landlord would give them shelter.

 Even if our rent was a bit larger than most others.

 The physics were always either trackers (a fairly self-explanatory job. Basically tracking the enemy. The lookout tower amplified our power to help us track them, but it wasn't always enough) or military advisers (we could figure out what the enemy was thinking, and then advise him on how to act on it). Chaz was right, these two tasks were mind-numbingly boring. Unfortunately for me, as the Preacher had taken a rather unusual shine to me, the High Master had decided that that was a fair enough reason to employ me as his personal adviser.

 Unfortunately, this still meant I was a PA. Still, the pay was good.

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