The black lights danced in my eyes as I looked at the battle, the sickly sweet smell of blood rushed into my nose and made me dizzy. A whistling noise sounded behind me. I turned to see a black arrow whiz past me and hit an invader in the heart.
I immediately recognize the homemade arrow and whirl toward the sentries I know are hiding. “Let her go, or the next one won’t hit a leg,” a cold voice says. I can’t see the speaker in the tree, but I instantly identify the voice.