It was a dark night when the king had ordered the decree. All in Marae were to be checked over for signs of being a shapeshifter. If the person had a birthmark in the shape of a star on the back of their neck, they were a shapeshifter. If not, they were human. Hundreds with the birthmark were slain, killed just because they were shapeshifters. The race had merged to be one with the humans in the last decade, losing their own home to the animals of the forest. So they became human, one of the many different forms they could take. Public killings and executions were a daily thing, women and children were not spared if sporting the mark. The streets stunk of the horrible disease that was death. The graveyard was full of unmarked graves for the shapeshifters in the soldiers minds, deserved no proper burial. So instead they piled them up in a hole and moved onto the next batch. It was a vicious cycle of death that plagued the town. A young girl, an orphan taken in by an old couple, was at every single execution, giving the victim a flower before death. Her guardians ran a flower shop and had allowed her to give flowers to the people dying. It was almost a game for the guards to see how many they could kill a day. That day was one of the less death filled days, the guards having only found three shapeshifters throughout the day. The young girl, a girl by the name of Asylsa, was glad about this. There would be no more blood spilled unless someone else was turned in. Though her hair was as red as the blood, she hated the color, preferring the softer and brighter colors of the grass and trees. She ran through the streets, blue eyes looking for her childhood friend. He might be at the forge with his parents, or maybe he was at the lake. Who knew? That was why the tan girl searched for the boy, unsure of where he would pop up this time.