Sometimes when one thinks of the past, moving forward to the future seems hard for them. Every night, Dad always came to tell me tales of how they fought with a magical stone called the Onyx. He said it was what brought us together as clans all over the lands, excluding the Werecats.

The breeze blew my light brown hair which slowly bleached blonde like my mom's as I kept writing my journal. Although I still didn't believe that there was such a thing as magic, I still needed to find out.

I jumped down the fence, in my leather top and jacket with boots, my two long swords clasped...