Ivy wandered the palace halls, waiting. Prince Virian was off somewhere, doing something useless and stupid. All she wanted was a quick drink with him, but he always seemed to be busy. After she had chaperoned the two princes' meeting, she had barely seen him. Well, she could obviously just go find him, but she didn’t feel like rubbing elbows with a bunch of nobles, more than half of which could probably make her list. If by chance there were some nobles that weren't corrupt, she had probably killed someone in their family already. It wouldn't be a pleasant environment for her.

And so she waited. The two princes had come to some sort of agreement. Armond wouldn’t kill Prince Virian, and Virian would…not try to arrest him? She honestly wasn’t sure if they had decided on much else. Without her, they’d probably be attempting to strangle each other this very moment. In any case, a peace existed that Ivy did not think possible when she had first seen Virian's face again that fateful night.

Things were...sort of back to normal. Or maybe better than before she had been stabbed. Ivy wasn't fully healed yet, but it barely bothered her these days. As for the impending demon invasion? She wasn’t convinced herself that was coming. That only left Atrican's own demon. She had promised Armond to deliver it to him, but she wasn't rushing to get that done either. It didn't feel right to so soon break this peaceful atmosphere. There was just one problem with that, though.

“Uggggh,” she said to no one, “I’m so bored.”

She kept strolling along lush carpeted corridors, doing her best to admire the artwork hung on either side, but it just wasn’t enough. The wound in her gut was healing nicely to the point it barely hurt anymore, and she itched to do something. At the moment, she couldn’t even have a chat with her friend. The lack of excitement had a better chance of killing her than Armond’s dagger.

Strangely enough, despite her infiltration of the nearby cathedral, the palace was the safest place not only in the noble’s district, but the whole city. Virian absolutely denied the paladins entrance. So while Ivy had walked here like a normal person, once inside she was free to use her power as much as she pleased without fear of being discovered.

Ivy slipped into the witch world, and her vision turned to shades of gray. The forms around her twisted and morphed into an eerie, yet somewhat recognizable mass of writhing, wriggling lines and impossible angles. She smiled, comforted by the strange sight she had become accustomed to over so many years. It wasn’t so bad, really. The demon was there too, watching as always. But something was different about him. He…he wasn’t smiling. It actually made him more unnerving.

Ignoring that feeling for now, she chose a path at random and stepped along its coiling trail. She wanted to stay within the palace, so she let go of her power after just a few seconds. When color returned, she found herself in yet another hallway pocked with paintings.

These, however, were of a different variety. Instead of beautiful landscapes or depictions of the palace itself, each canvas held a remarkable well done illustration of a person. Or multiple people. She recognized one of them. With a smile on her face she headed right for the painting of a young Virian.

He was just as she remembered him from that night so long ago. Ugh, it was a little disturbing how cute he was. No wonder she had been so charmed by him back then. No wonder she probably still was. His looks had only matured over the years, but better than that, he wasn’t reaching for a pitchfork after learning the truth about her. It was almost too good to be true.

Ivy shook her head and continued down the hall, perusing the other paintings. There were several other younger men and women, all of them being quite pretty. They could only be Virian’s brothers and sisters. She wondered what the rest of the royal family was like. Would they all be as kind as the youngest? Or maybe they would all be power hungry tyrants. Meeting them would be fun. With Virian at her side, would she have to protect him or simply be introduced to a loving family? Hm.

She kept on until the hall ended, capped by a massive portrait of a stern faced, bearded older man wearing a jeweled crown. Huh. The rest must have got their looks from their mother. The king—or rather, previous king nowadays—was rather ordinary looking. Ivy needed to see what kind of beauty combined with him to produce such lovely children.

Yet after traveling up and down the corridor she could not find a single painting of Virian’s mother. There were several group portraits of the children, sometimes with their father, but never their mother. Ivy studied each, and though Virian’s oldest sister might be confused for a young mother, Ivy could not see it. It definitely was not her.

And then she remembered why. Rose had told her that the queen had been outed as a witch and executed. She must have also been removed from history. Her paintings destroyed, her achievements given to someone else, and her memory erased. Ivy scowled down the hall at the painting of the king. How could he let it happen? His own wife. Disgusting.

“Dragonfly,” a voice came to her from behind. She whipped around with one hand going for the hilt of her dagger. No one should be calling her that here.

A young woman in a maid’s outfit was standing before Ivy, with one hand, palm out.

“Forgive me,” she bowed, “I did not mean to startle you, Dragonfly.”

“Don’t call me that!” Ivy said in a harsh whisper.

The woman bowed again.

“Forgive me…ma’am.”

Ivy actually liked that less.

“What do you want?” Ivy asked, not releasing the hold on her weapon.

“His highness sent me.” The woman reached inside of her dress and pulled out a slip of paper.

Which highness? Ivy almost laughed at herself. Did she ever think she'd be trying to figure out which prince was calling for her? It sounded crazy. In this case, however, it was much more likely to be Armond. Apparently his reach still extended to the palace staff.

She walked over and grabbed the slip of parchment from the woman’s hand. She bowed again, and then slipped away as quiet as she had come. Ivy couldn’t help but think the maid was another assassin, ready to strike at Armond’s orders. It made her skin crawl a bit. Is that how she made other people feel, too? Ugh.

Ivy unfolded the paper and stared down at the message. It only contained a brief note, but it was clearly for her.

Bloody Flag. Urgent.

Alright, then. It wasn’t surprising Armond could reach her here, but the idea that he could still get to Virian so easily made her a bit uneasy. But at least this new development would give her something to do. She might miss Prince Virian whenever he came back, but he could wait. It would be payback for all the time he made her do the same.

Ivy dropped back into the witch world, searching for the fastest path out of the palace. The demon eyed her with its newly acquired stoic gaze, sending a chill down Ivy’s spine. Was it…disappointed it could not lure her in when she had stupidly visited it?

“What…what do you want?” she asked.

It said nothing, only shook its head at her. Whatever. She wouldn’t let it get to her. Physically or mentally. She again searched for a way out of the palace, but got stuck on a pair of dark figures in her peripheral. She turned to examine them more closely, and nearly jumped.

Like her dagger and the form of the demon, the two shapes stuck out from everything else. While the world writhed, vibrated, spun, and contorted with every step she took, these two forms were static. Solid. It was as though the witch world could not touch them. They were humanoid in shape—far more than anyone else in the witch world—and moved in a clear direction. Toward her location.

Her mind immediately went to the paladins and she skipped along a winding pathway leading her outside of the palace walls. When she spun to check on the two figures, they were far out of reach and Ivy let out a held breath. What the hell were they doing inside the palace grounds? Virian would be furious. Did he know? She’d figure it out later. For now she needed to get out of here and back to the Bloody Flag.

She let go of her power and the mundane world unfolded around her revealing a shingled rooftop below her. Her feet almost slipped out from under her adjusting to the sloped footing. Ugh. A roof? She had been fleeing in an unnecessary panic and just made things more difficult. For a third time, she let her power wash over her.

This time she took a moment and identified the wriggling street, and then an arched doorway as a destination. She jumped from her perch but only fell maybe a foot or two within the witch world. It took less than a second before she dispelled her power and felt the paved road under her shoes.

The street was devoid of activity as was much of the nobel district under the church’s watchful eye. Unlike the previous times she had been here, it seemed the rich were content to hide in their mansions rather than be bothered by the church’s warriors. Ivy didn’t blame them at all for that.

She headed for the gate on foot, reluctant to use her power too much without knowing if another paladin was just around the next corner. The whole way there she didn’t see another soul or carriage. It was just as creepy as the way in had been this morning.

Just as she neared the gate, her greatest fear manifested in the presence of three paladins guarding the way past the noble’s district. She didn’t dare stop walking, giving them any type of sign. She had once passed right under their noses without issue. It would be no problem this time either. Still, she could feel her heartbeat increase.

Once just a few paces away she waved and smiled, receiving no reaction in return from the helmeted warriors. Not even the standard royal guards were present, just the trio of paladins. The gate was already swung wide open and Ivy passed through without issue. Huh. They weren’t nearly as perceptive as the witch hunters. Or maybe Ivy was just less obvious.

At least that was what she thought until she heard the clank of metal behind her after maybe ten paces beyond the gate. She turned her head while continuing to move forward and saw one of the paladins following her out. Taking a deep breath, she returned her gaze forward and kept her normal pace. They didn’t know anything. The paladin was just going out for a patrol or something.

She did her best to tune out the sound of his footsteps, but it became that much harder when she heard a second set. A minute or so passed, and they were both still in her wake. The bustling market opened up before her, and she quickened her pace to get lost in the crowd. She turned left down the next crossing road that led to a side market of produce, mixing in with the customers.

Not a moment later, the two armored figures appeared, parting the crowds. An eerie quiet fell over the area, not even the fruit mongers yelled to advertise their wares. Ivy kept on moving. Maybe it was all just coincidence and the paladins wanted some vegetables. She wouldn’t risk anything until she was sure.

At a still faster gait she continued to duck and weave in between people until she came up to the end of the produce market and into an alleyway filled with nothing but refuse and muck. She made a circle of four right turns down similar such alleys, only for the paladins to follow the whole way.

She peaked around the latest corner and found both with weapons drawn. Her body went cold, and she snapped back around the corner, flattening herself against the building. They knew. There was only one option left, and though it would give her away, that didn’t seem to matter much anymore.

Ivy called to her strength, and the world warped around her. She heard the paladins call out a warning in response, but that didn’t matter to her. She had no intention of fighting, and they could never catch her. She sprinted along broken and physics-defying pathways, through tunnels that couldn’t possibly exist, and across landscapes that just a few years ago would have made her heave at the sight of them.

In no time at all she recognized the familiar shapes of the dock district warehouses, and pushed away the witch world back into the core of her heart. She emerged on a crowded street, nearly bumped into a man who had not seen her there a second before, but thought nothing of her sudden appearance in such a throng. Here too, the people were out in full force, the presence of the paladins not felt at all. This far from the nobles, it would be the last place the church would look.

Ivy made her way to the Bloody Flag, her breathing heavy by the time she spied the headquarters. Maybe Rose was right all along. They would have to leave Atrican and this would be her last time seeing Armond. The thought saddened her more than she anticipated. He, like Virian she considered as a true friend. The realization had only just hit her. He didn’t care what she was. He accepted her.

Huh. She climbed the set of stairs leading up to the door of the Flag with a bittersweet smile on her face, not taking note of the absence of the usual guard outside. When she swung open the double doors and stepped inside, her heart skipped a beat and she froze in place.

Ten paladins were arrayed at the entrance to the compound, standing like statues in their full plate armor. Ivy stumbled backward, her head too scrambled to make the most obvious decision. By the time she understood, it was too late. Something slammed against the side of her head, and everything went dark.