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More from ~Ruth-1

Chapter 2: The OracleOn a mountain far, far away sat a girl. Her name was Griffen, and the legend says that she was rescued from a burning village by a dragon. It also talks of great deeds and mighty sacrifices to come. Bad things are coming, and she is the only one able to stop them. These are the words of the oracle, and this is what must be.
Chapter 2 part 2There was a peal of thunder and a blinding flash. A wisp of smoke curled out from a pile of straw in the doorway. “Fire! Fire!” someone cried. There was mass panic. Everyone was scrambling for the door, trampling people in their haste to get away. Griffen screamed as loud as she could, but no- one heard her. They were all too busy saving their own lives. There was a loud crack as the stone table broke in two, and Griffen was left dangling between the two halves. Then she spotted spotted something. “Charlie!” she yelled urgently. “The knife, get the knife!” Charlie pricked his ears and ran over to the stone
Chapter 2 part 1No. This couldn’t be happening. She stood, shell-shocked, as the name echoed round the room. Griffen Graenson, the high priestess’ daughter, chosen as the sacrifice. There were sighs of relief from the other daughters and parents, and disbelief from the watching crowd. How could this be? The high priestess’ own daughter. This had never happened before. She must have done something really  bad to anger the Gods so much that they took her daughter, the most sacred in the village.
Unsteadily, Griffen rose to her feet. She couldn’t believe it. Her whole body shook as she made her way up to the front of the hall. Her mothe
Chapter 1“Griffen!” yelled a voice from the kitchen. “Your dinner’s ready!”
“Coming mum!” Griffen sighed. She was so bored. The High Priestess had given strict instructions that on no account was she to be allowed outside until her 15th birthday, when all rites had been completed and she was officially part of the sybilhood that governed her village. She was 14 summers old tomorrow, so she still had a whole year until she was allowed outside. And tomorrow was also the Day of The Lamb. This was the day that a girl from the village was killed and their blood left out on a stone at the entrance to the village as
PrologueThe shovel was coal black and encrusted with little silver jewels, and reached halfway up his leg. As he roared and swung it down towards her head, she noticed to her horror something that she hadn’t seen last time. The shovel was covered at the end with a dark sticky substance that was probably blood. She wondered what –or who- had had the last unfortunate encounter with it. This was the last thing she thought before the world around her went black and she slumped to the ground.
He lowered the shovel. Nothing stirred. At least, not anymore. The few creatures that may have shouted a warning were lying on the floor, slumped as if

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