"Morgan! Move your ass!"

I looked around, trying to find the voice that had yelled at me. Purple, orange, blue, green, and red spells flew through the air like lightning bugs, colliding with people, buildings, and cars.

The battle was surprisingly quiet; most of the spells were cast silently, and the only noise was made when someone or random structures were hit. The empty street had been barricaded with cars, most of which totaled.

I looked down at the body I had been looting. It belonged to a boy, maybe seventeen, two years older than me. He was lying still, pale and cold, his eyes unseeing into the gray, cloudy sky. After rummaging around his jacket a bit more, I found an ID; Jason Walker, seventeen, Orlando, Florida. I left the cash and took his ID and drivers license, and continued to search his body.

A scream resounded through the air, then more silence and spells. After a couple of minutes, in his jean pocket, my fingers closed around what I had been looking for. Just when I pulled it out to examine it, I heard a voice.

"Yer a little young to be in a battle, don'tcha think?"

I stood up and turned around to see a big man leering at me. He was tall, bald, thirty or forty, with yellow teeth, probably from the cigarette box poking out of his jacket. I could tell by his grammer that he had been uneducated, and was probably dumber than a rock.

"I'm fifteen." My voice was clear and unafraid. The man laughed.

"And what would a small gir' like you be doin' in this mess?" He took a step forward. "I mean, y'know, you should probably not fight me. I could snap yer little body like a toothpick. How tall are you? Five foot two?"

"Five one," I corrected.

"Whoooo-eeee!" He laughed. "You jus' keep makin' this better 'n better! Right, Grim?"

Another man stepped out from behind some rubble. This one was taller, tanner, and younger, with thick dark hair on his head. His eyes glistened and he smiled, showing off undisturbed white teeth and a toothpick, something that probably had charmed countless girls.

"I like blonds," Grim said, winking at me. "And big baby blues. Damn girl, you're like the woman of my dreams!"

"You can have her first, Grim," the bigger man said, lighting a cigarette and putting it in his mouth. "I might break her."

Grim laughed. "Thanks, Sergio. Good to know you're thinking of others." Within the next two seconds, Grim crossed eight feet, and stood less than an inch away. He was much taller than me - maybe a foot and a half - so he had to bend his head to look at me.

As he reached out to grab me, I shot my hand out to stop him. He immediatly took my arm and twisted it, pulling me closer so his face was less than an inch away. Sergio laughed.

"Ah ah, sweetheart," Grim breathed. My face automatically twisted into revultion; his breath smelled like rotten eggs. Grim's smile turned into a sneer, and he gripped my arm harder.

"Do you have something to say?" he growled, his eyes vicious. "Is there something wrong with me?"

"Not at all," I said softly, reaching my unoccupied hand behind my back, slightly lifting my shirt. Grim was too occupied glaring to notice. There was probably some sort of story behind his bad breath, and how he was rejected by the girl of his dreams, or something sappy like that. All too easily, I lifted my wand out from under the waistband of my jeans.

"Hope you like it rough, kid. I'm not about to play nice because you're small," he growled. He twisted my arm, and I couldn't help but let my mouth twitch into a smile.

"What?" he snarled.

"This was too easy," I said, showing off my newly straightened white teeth. No one appreciates the beauty of braces enough until you've had them.

"What was too easy?"

"This."

With that, I pulled out my want, sending a spell at his chest, knocking him back into a crushed car. Sergio tried to disarm me, but I ducked behind a barricade and ran into a rundown alley.

Looking around, I still heard the curses flying, and the sound of buildings and cars being destroyed, but it was muffled. Clenching my wand in one hand, and my prize from Jason Walker, I ducked into a building. The lights were dimly lit, and it was completely torn apart. Windows were broken, doors knocked from the hinges, tables overturned. The stairs looked strained, but I took my chances and went to the top. It was an open patio, with mirrors along the wall and a fence along the edges. I stopped by a mirror.

My long, platinum blond hair was tangled and wavy, my big blue eyes wide with eyeliner and mascara surrounding them. My pale pink lips were pursed, pale complexion clean besides a few dirt smudges and thin scratches.

"Morgan King. You gorgeous girl. Hiding from the fight? That's not like you."

I turned around to see my best friend since kindergarten, Simon Hale. He was tall, not very tan, but still tan, with green/brown eyes and longish dark brown hair. His red lips pulled into a smile.

"Well, I would love to be down there, but I found what we came here for. You're welcome for doing everything by myself."

"By yourself?" Simon snorted. "While the rest of us are down there battling a legion of enemy witches and wizards, and you're up here, observing the fight? How does that work?"

"Apparently, it worked out well," I said, tucking my wand under my shirt and pants, and holding out my hand. In it was the prize I had taken from the kid.

Simon whistled and picked it out of my hand, holding it up for us to look at in the sunlight. It was a silver ring with a huge square, blue stone in the middle, surrounded by woven silver so it was embedded into the ring. There was no doubt that it was authentic.

"How in the hell did you stumble upon this up here?" He mumbled, examining the ring.

"I didn't. I was in the fight, but whenever I saw an enemy go down, I searched them. I found it, stunned some goons, and came up here."

"Some goons, huh?" Simon grinned. "Most of them are pretty dumb, huh? I'm surprised Katherine sent stupid people to guard something so important."

"Tell me about it," I said. "Clause will be happy, though. Strange thing, I found it on a kid."

"What do you mean?" Simon furrowed his eyebrows.

"I mean a seventeen year-old kid named Jason Walker," I said. "I have no idea who he is or why he had it, but it was probably important."

Simon looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged and gave me the ring. "Well, since we have what we came for, I'll sound the retreat. We can head back to the Capitol, and see what Clause wants us to do. No doubt find out who Walker is, and why he had the most important ring of the eighteenth century."

"Your call," I said, pocketing the ring.

As Simon sounded a retreat to our men, I couldn't help but glance at my own ring. It had been given to me by the foster care system, a gift my birth mother had given me. It was made of wrought silver, twisted into petals around a single emerald, giving the impression of a flower. And even though my birth mother had given it to me, I had a feeling it wasn't hers.

Did you like it? I hope this isn't too OC. It'll all come together, I promise! Sorry it was so short. I'm still trying to get everything down for the story, so the next chapters should be longer.

Feel free to reveiw!

Much Love,

Hayden