Thick smoke rose to the sky in tall, wavy columns. Grey ash swirled in the air almost disappearing among the glittering sleet before it fell back on the ground. The resulting slush was quickly turning into a sticky, brownish mass as it mixed with soil and blood. In the eerie silence, the sound of marching feet thundered and shook the earth. Row after row of soldiers in shining armor threaded the muddy road, their spears – dyed crimson and pointing straight up to the stormy clouds.

In the middle of the column walked a lone man. Black, tangled hair fell over a scraggy, dark face; a torn shirt with crusted brown and reddish stains covered a hunched figure. His bare feet dragged through the cold muck, each step – gruelingly slow and accompanied by the clang of heavy chains.

Head held low, the man trod forth, the blunt end of a spear hitting his back from time to time to make him move faster. Alongside the column’s path, a silent crowd of onlookers slowly gathered. Men, women, even children, followed the procession with hollow eyes. Little by little, a murmur rose up, quickly avalanching into screams, howls, and curses as the crowd lurched forward, clawing at the man in the center of the column.

The prisoner did not react. Or perhaps he had no strength left to do so. Instead, the spears of the soldiers that had previously pointed to the sky now turned to the crowd. The cries of rage became ones of fear and pain as the angry mass dispersed, clearing a path to the procession’s destination – a tall platform with a pole on top, chains hanging from it, surrounded by a large pyre.

As the column reached the execution grounds, two soldiers dragged the prisoner up the squeaking steps and chained him to the stake. All that time, the man did not resist, nor did he utter a word. He just lifted his head a bit, eyes glancing over the people gathered below. But all one could see were distorted faces, looking up at the source of their misery.

A priest in black and white attire stepped forth and started reading a prayer. Under the pyre, the mob churned like a black sea, wave after wave crashing against the wall of shining soldiers. The platform shook from the force of the crowd. Little by little, the shouts drowned the sound of the holy verses.

Then, as if materializing from nothing, a lone cloaked figure stepped before the prisoner. It was a woman, clad from head to toe in silver. Her chestnut braid hung over her shoulder, almost reaching her hips.

She lifted her right hand and traced the big scar sprawling over the prisoner’s face with her finger.

“I am here to execute the will of Norden,” she said quietly as her lips curved into a smile.

The woman’s left swung over her head. A cold, long blade glinted briefly before it fell to sink into the man’s flesh.

“NO!”

With a loud shriek, Shana sat in her bed, rivers of sweat and tears running down her face.

The door to her room flung open with a bang and several armed binshi stormed in, led by a middle-aged woman with a glaive.

“Lady Shana! What’s wrong?”

“K-Karusa!” the child sobbed and curled in a small ball amongst her sheets. “D-demon!”

Handing her weapon to one of the guards, the woman sat on the bed and embraced the girl.

“There, there. It was a dream. Nothing to be afraid of.”

Despite her calming tone, Karusa’s eyes kept darting around, checking every corner and shadow for potential danger.

“I want Rish,” mumbled Shana through her hiccups. “I want Rasha. Where are they?”

“They still need to rest for a few more days. But we all will protect you in their stead, so don’t be afraid.”

The child nodded but still remained clinging to her for dear life.

One of the guards approached and coughed politely to draw their attention.

“Should we inform the duke about this?”

“NO!” Shana jumped up and frantically shook her head. “Don’t call him! Promise you won’t call him!”

“But this is the fifth time this week, my lady!” Karusa gently stroke her ward’s hair. “He would be worried if…”

“He won’t be worried if you don’t tell him!” the girl replied stubbornly and brushed away her tears. “You said it. It’s just a dream. It’s not a big deal.”

The woman gave her a long look but, in the end, sighed and nodded.

“As you wish. Should I stay until you fall asleep again? I can sing you something.”

“N-no.” Shana turned beet red and stared intently at her knees. “I am not a baby anymore.”

Giving her little lady a final hug, Karusa secretly swallowed a smile and left the room with the rest of the guards.

A few seconds after the door closed, Shana still remained seated in her bed, listening for their fading footsteps. Then suddenly, she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders like a mantle, jumped down, and quickly ran to one of the tall windows. Huddled in the spacious niche, she stared through its faceted glass and into the night sky. The pale moon had almost sunken below the horizon. Daybreak was just a few hours away.

The child wrapped herself in the blanket even tighter. Then she secretly rubbed the little silver ring on her finger.

“Dada, please, come!” she whispered and shuddered despite her warm cover. “I need you!”

“What is it, my sweet child?”

A quiet voice sounded nearby. Grey mist crept over the floor, crawling towards the window niche. It wound up and condensed into the ghastly silhouette of a young man. His face was full of worry as he floated before the girl.

“Did something happen, sweety?”

“I had that dream again, dada.” Shana sniffled and rubbed her nose. “Papa was hurt and in chains, and he was going to be executed, and that evil woman stabbed him…”

Her sobs got stronger again.

“Why can’t I warn papa about this? I don’t want him to hurt! I don’t want him to die!!”

“I told you, sweety, it is for his own protection.” The ghost flew closer to her and whispered. “If the one mentioned in the prophecy knows about it, then their future will be set in stone. All that you saw will come true.”

“But can’t I tell the elders? Or Duncan, or Karusa and Gerash? They can protect papa! They can drive that evil woman away!”

“Do you believe that they won’t inform their master about this? And then his fate will be sealed yet again.”

“But if I tell them not to tell him… I don’t like lying to them." The girl bit her lips and took a shaky breath. "Lying that I don’t remember the prophecy…”

“Enough, Shana!” The ghost’s tone became stern. “Don’t you love your father? Don’t you want to protect him? Go on, tell Duncan and the rest about the prophecy. But remember, that woman is now their mistress and they serve and protect her just as they serve and protect your father. You saw it yourself. Do you think they will go after her behind their lord’s back just because of some prophecy? Because of the words of a child? The moment you tell them, they will tell the duke, and then it will be over. But please, go on; reveal the prophecy and kill your father if you don't trust me!”

“NO!” Shana choked and buried her head in her knees. Her shoulders shook as her little hands dug desperately into the blanket. “I won’t! I won’t tell, I promise, dada!”

The frown on the ghost’s face disappeared, replaced by a gentle expression. He lifted his transparent hand and put it on the child’s head. Small sparks flew around, yet he didn’t falter and continued stroking her hair.

“There, there. I am sorry, sweety. I was too harsh. I didn’t want to scare you, but you need to trust me. I am trying to protect you all.”

“Dada!” Shana’s teary eyes became huge. “You can touch me!”

“It is all thanks to you, sweety. The more we interact, the stronger our connection grows. Being with you replenishes the strength I have lost on the Spirit Plane.”

Without saying a word, the child flung herself at him with open arms. However, the moment her hands touched the man, they went straight through in a storm of sparks. The ghost groaned and his features blurred.

“Slow down, child! I am not strong enough to stand a hug yet.”

“I-I am sorry!” Shana pulled back stammering. “Did I hurt you?”

“That much is nothing, sweety. But be more careful next time.”

The child nodded, but immediately her expression darkened again. She hugged her knees while sucking on her lip.

“What should I do then, dada? I can’t just let that evil woman harm papa!”

“Patience, my child. That is why I am here – to help and guide you. We will prevent the prophecy of coming true.”

“But how? When?”

“Soon.” The ghost held his hands behind his back. “We need a good moment to show everyone that woman’s true colors. When everyone sees what she really is, they will get rid of her even without hearing the prophecy.”

“But when will that be?”

A little smirk appeared on the man's lips.

“The Council of Norden will be meeting in a few weeks. What better chance than to show both binshi and limerians who the duchess Norden truly is?”