Chapter 1 In a deep, magical forest somewhere on the edge of the world

The young goddess walked quietly on the tips of her feet, knowing she was to reach her destination soon, her treasure. She was asked by her father, Hades ruler of the underworld, to find his sword he had lost some time ago. A sword that fit perfectly in his hand, was balanced evenly, with a hilt that told the story of the gods. This sword would warm at the touch of its owner and could slice through any path or challenge that came before it. This isn't the type of sword one merely looses. This is the type of sword that is taken greedily, with a price. A price that could cost this thief their hand, their heart, their future.

The girl, Henris, daughter of Hades and princess of the underworld, peeked from behind a tree the width of her body. She stopped the sword in the hands of a short, round satyr. His dirty fingers almost hiding the silver's shine. His beaty brown black eyes staring at the sword in awe. Henris turns swiftly back around the tree, He won't be looking at that sword for much longer, she thought.

Turning back around the tree she spotted the satyr again, he was entranced by the sword, now was a good time for a distraction. Lifting her hand, Henris pointed her index and middle finger, starting a fire close enough to the left of the satyr for him to be distracted and run towards it, far enough for her to grab the sword. He places the sword in hurry on the stone mantle he'd been using to display the sword before, and he hops off with his animal legs to put out the fire. The second he is out of sight Henris swiftly runs on the tops of her feet to the mantle, making no sound as she approaches. At first she just stands, back straight, gazing at the treasure. She'd spent almost a month trying to find this thing. Without another thought she grabs the sword in both her hands, holding it flatly for her to get a better view. It glimmers in some light breaking through the trees overhead, it warms at her touch, welcoming her. She turns on her heal, finally pulling her eyes off the sword, to see right in front of her the stubbly satyr. She was too distracted by the sword to have heard him put of the fire, to smell the smoke.

He is just gazing at the sword again, the exact same way as only moments ago. He moves his stare slowly from the sword to her, big eyes full of plea and innocence. She almost looks at him with sorrow and regret, but shakes her head just slightly. His stare turns from a plea to rage. His eyebrows bending down, his mouth forming into an ugly snarl. But before he can make a move, possible kick her with his animal legs, she takes the sword into one hand, raises it, and comes down across his short small neck, decapitating him.

She makes her way back home, back to the underworld.