PROLOGUE

Once, they lived in peace.

Once, the two kingdoms of Baltia and Barrenville were united. They lived on opposite sides of the forest but they had made a road connecting the villages through the forest and over the river. Both Baltians and Barreners went to the same school, had the same shops. 

Both Baltians and Barreners were known for their will to forgive, and their magical gifts to heal the sick and injured. Until the Agronos War.

An army made up of people from the country of Aife invaded the Barrenville, led by Lord Agronos, the power-hungry king of Aife. He sought out Barrenville and unleashed his army upon them, while the Baltians were left alone. Many houses were burnt, lives lost. As a final plea for help, Barrenville called for aid from Baltia, yet they refused to help. Many Barreners even tried to escape to Baltia, only to find out that their border had been closed. 

But the Barreners still persisted, and finally, Agronos retreated back to Aife with what was left of his army, but not without a parting gift. His eyes ablaze with fire, he cursed any and everyone who called Barrenville their home: their magic would decay, and become almost the counterpart of their original. Anyone with healing powers could now only harm. Anyone who made nature grow wuold now only make it decay.

However, in due course, life in Barrenville returned to peace, despite the country still in shock. But then, the questions started to pour in. Why hadn't Baltia been attacked? Why was the border between the countries closed off? 

They had always wondered why the Baltians had never been attacked by Agronos, and why they had claimed that their armies were in another country, far away, when only the very day before the attack, their armies were patrolling the streets of Baltia.

The Baltians had made a pact with the Agronos army: they would not aid Barrenville in return for Baltia's safety. When Barrenville heard of this, a deadly feud sprung between them. The road connecting them was destroyed, their shared schools shut down and left to turn to ruins.

One more change occurred, in the town of Barrenville. While they had managed to overturn many parts of the curse, their evil powers remained, and so the Barreners learnt to be cruel and vicious, to hate and be hated, to destroy everything good. 

Once they lived in peace.

Now they lived in war.

CHAPTER ONE

Malice stared out the window gloomily. In all of her fifteen years of existence, she had never seen anyone passing that window who had ever waved at her, or even smiled. But then again, that wasn't surprising.

She wore a silk dress, made by her mother in an attempt to make her look more Baltian. However, she had taken a knife and, with a few deft cuts, had transformed it into a daring, short-skirted outfit, which she had liked much better. She had found a worn leather jacket in the bins one day and had dyed it deep purple, which she had slung over her shoulders. Her hair was grey-violet, hanging over her eyes and ending at chin-length, a boyish haircut that most Baltians would gasp at the sight of. Her eyes were like grey fire. 

She had been shunned and despised by Baltia since birth, infamous for her powers. Her Barrener powers. Cursed lightning, the power of hatred and destruction. It wasn't even her fault. It was Lord Agronos'. But of course, no one listened to her when she told them that she hadn't chosen to become this way. The name 'Malice' didn't exactly help. Of course, she could have acted like a Baltian, all silk and satin, long skirts and endless kindness. But she was a Baltian. Just not a pretty one. 

In fact, Baltia debated whether to get rid of her, exile or even kill her. Maybe they should send her to Barrenville? Good choice. Malice would probably be much happier in Barrenville, where everyone would be the same as her.

A creak. Malice turned around. Her mother swanned in through the door, drowning in a floaty deep blue dress trailing on the floor behind her. 'Hello, darling!' Another thing about Diane. She was always positive.

'Hi, Diane.' Diane smiled at her daughter and shut the door gently behind her. 

'Maybe you could come down? There's Saffron rolls!' She stepped forward. Her dress pulled her back. She turned around. The end of her dress had got caught in the door. 'Excuse me a minute, honey.' She proceeded to put her impossibly high heels against the door and tugged her immensely large dress. It didn't budge. Taking her heels off, she bent down and pulled again. No use.

'Diane, maybe if you opened the door?' Malice suggested. Diane looked at her as if considering if she could actually talk, before wordlessly opening the door. She looked down at the end of her gown. It was covered in dust from whatever lurked on the underside of her door.

'I shall have to wash this dress now. What a shame, it's new!' She was obviously trying to make small talk. It didn't work.

'Diane, can I be left alone? I don't like Saffron rolls anyway.' Malice said. Diane sighed. 

'There's also soup.' She said, pleadingly, but she left, all the same, closing the door behind her softly. There was a moment of silence. Then a ripping noise. 'Oh dear, my new dress!' Malice heard Diane exclaim from the other side of the door. She looked at the door. A large section of her dress was lying dejected in a heap near the door. Malice walked over.

Picking it up, she examined it. It was quite long, with about three layers. It would be good for a black headscarf, maybe she could use it for sneaking out. If she just cut it over there and tied it there, then it could be fashionable as well as useful.

She pulled out her knife from its hiding spot in her wardrobe and got to work.

CHAPTER TWO

Love was a girl of many talents. Sadly, climbing trees wasn't one of them.

'Is this really necessary, Goldie?' Love was clinging on to a thin branch with one hand, using the other to reach for the clump of elderberries. Goldie the woodpecker was perched on the trunk, pecking at the flaking wood. She seemed utterly uninterested in the peril Love was putting herself in. 

Goldie paused her pecking to answer. 'Of course! A growing girl, you need to eat something!'

She resumed pecking. Love groaned and pulled herself up onto the branch. She grabbed the berries eagerly.

'You're getting better, girl.' Goldie chirped. She was perched on the branch above her, looking down. Love groaned, her cyan hair hanging down to her waist in an elegant curve, not - so - elegantly splattered with mud. She was wearing a sky blue day - dress, a plain one. Her red eyes gleamed in the sunlight. She was the picture of pretty.

'I don't get why you can't do it, Goldie.' Love crouched on the branch, preparing to jump down.

'You need training girl!' 

'For what?'

'For me!' Goldie screeched. Love laughed so hard she fell off the branch. 

She landed badly. Her hair was now caked in dirt, and so was her day - dress. A second later, the elderberries fell, landing on her face and covering her in blue - purple gloop. Goldie chuckled. 'The portrait of elegance, my darling!' Goldie cackled.

Love scowled at her and threw the elderberries at her. She ducked, laughing, and the elderberries sailed off into the distance. 'Wasting good food, Love?' 

Love finally sat up. Her head hurt, but not badly, and luckily, she hadn't wasted all of the elderberries. There were still a bunch left. 'I saw goose plums somewhere.' she said, before walking briskly through the forest.

Originally, she had lived in Barrenville. For a few years, at least. Found to be blessed with the Good power of love and kindness, she had been abandoned in the forest as soon as she was old enough to survive on her own. At the age of seven, Love had stumbled through the woods, disturbing a large forest cat. If it wasn't for Goldie, Love would be dead. It was Goldie who had fetched her goose plums and elderberries, who had stolen clothes from Baltia for her. Now, the forest was her home, her life.

Footsteps. Twigs breaking. A hunter was coming.

Quickly, Love darted behind a leafy shrub and watched. The hunter was elegantly dressed (a Baltian then), wearing a dark green uniform. He had a mop of curly black hair hanging over his eyes, and grey eyes. He was carrying a sword. A patroller. They came once a month, checking the forest for rebels or attackers. They also made sure that anything lurking there didn't escape into the cities, so Love couldn't leave the forest even if she wanted to.

The man turned back, satisfied with his search, leaving Love and Goldie in the clearing. They tumbled out from the bush. Love's leg had gone numb, and her face had scratches from the sharper of the thorns in the hiding place. Her mud - caked hair now had a collection of twigs and leaves, and, to her disgust, a dead fly. Goldie was no better off.

As they crept through the forest, resuming their search for food, Goldie turned to Love. 'Another reason why you need training.'