Rose smiled as she craned her neck to look up at the Dawn Palace of Toliak. Its central spire soared high into the sky, hundreds of feet above everything else. Made almost entirely of gleaming white marble accented by gold inlays at the windows and balconies, it shined like a stairway to the heavens beyond. And soon it would be all hers.

Today was the day she would be named queen consort to King Arameus. Her smile twisted at the thought of the man, but it would be worth it. If he could have only been a bit younger or more attractive. That was the cost of waiting until his late wife died, she supposed, but it made things so much easier. There was no reason for him to resist any longer.

In truth, Rose was older than the king by many decades, though no one would guess such a thing based on her appearance. Without any pride, Rose knew she was an exceptionally beautiful woman. All witches were. And she also knew everyone else thought her as such. Her power made it that much easier to become the perfect target for the king’s affection. Much to the displeasure of all who sought his eye, it wasn’t a contest.

She started forward again, nodding to the guards who manned the entrance to the outer courtyard of the palace. They all knew her by now, and it was a foregone conclusion that she would be the next queen. Several courtiers passed by her on her way through the gardens, and likewise showed her deference. Rose had no need of her power to understand what they were all thinking. No one knew what influence she would have on the king, and did their best to behave in her presence.

She knew exactly what she would do. It would start and end with the church. Well, start at least. If she could limit their influence just in the slightest, it would be a win. Overtime she could weaken them again and again until there was hardly anything left in this country. She’d return in another century and do it all over.

If she had only lived in the time of the Witch Queen, none of this would be necessary. She’d be sitting with the Council of the Dragonflies among her peers, running the world. Yet she had been born a thousand years too late, and now had to put up with the the church and their dogma. It was such a chore to deal with them, but she would never back down. Her sisters deserved a world they could live in without fear, as she did.

She strode up to the broad double doors of the entrance to the palace, and a pair of armored, spear wielding guards met her at the entrance. One was a middle-aged male named Jerome while the other a younger woman called Larenthine. Both wore the red tabard of Toliak emblazoned with the shining gold sun that represented the nation. Alongside the emblem sat the triad symbol of the church. If Rose could accomplish nothing else, she would get that damn thing removed from Toliak’s flag.

She smiled at the guards and touched their minds with her power. Jerome was almost overcome with lust amd wanting at just the sight of her bright smile, while Larenthine glared in annoyance. The woman had been in love with her comrade for a few years now, though had kept it hidden. Yet despite that, her expression softened in a moment or two. Larenthine loved Rose almost as much as Jerome in a different way.

Rose had made life for practically everyone in the palace better the last few months she had been here. Anyone who wasn’t a church sycophant at least. The Kings’ good spirits accounted for most of it, but other than that, she had made it so the paladins could no longer push their way around whenever they wanted. Subtly, she had suggested that the king’s men were to be trusted, and not the warriors of the church. The royal guard in particular had appreciated that.

“My lady,” Jerome said, bowing, “a fine day it is.”

“Indeed, Jerome,” Rose said, “and there is no better company for you to spend it with.” She winked over at Larenthine who turned a dull shade of pink.

“Of course, my lady,” he said, though Rose was pretty sure he meant her and not his companion.

She rolled her eyes and waved a hand at the door.

“If you would, please?”

“Of course,” Larenthine chimed in for the first time, sending over a dirty look to Jerome, “get the door ya idiot. The future queen isn’t yours to drool over.”

Both guards took one massive ten foot tall door each and pulled outward from their respective curved, gilded handles. The hinges groaned and creaked, as they pulled open the heavy doors, revealing a red and gold carpet streaming down the center of a wide entrance hall. Within, there were more guards waiting all who greeted her with a hearty smile. Rose extended her power outward from her heart and was hit by wave after wave of adulation from her upcoming subjects.

To a one, the guardsmen and servants of the palace were practically buzzing in their heads about the upcoming announcement. Technically it wasn’t public knowledge, but rumors and gossip traveled quickly within the small community of the palace. Finally, they’d be rid of that bitch who had clung to the king for so long. Speaking of, the king’s long time concubine Cassandra would no doubt be coming to scorn Rose one last time before—

Rose froze mid step, and immediately let go of her witch power. Oh, shit. Why? Why was one of them here? She had been searching for Cassandra when she had come upon a mind shrouded in darkness. There was only one reason for such a thing. The person had been dosed with an alaricite cocktail. It hadn’t felt like the solid wall of a paladin who had been dosing practically since birth, which meant there was a witch hunter in the palace. One who had downed one of his limited vials. He was on the hunt.

The mind had been close by, nearly straight ahead, and Rose did her best to resume her pace forward casually toward the central staircase beyond the foyer. Yet when she tried to find the source of the blockage of her power, only Cassandra stood at the top of staircase looking down on Rose. The woman’s smug grin told Rose everything. Cassandra had been given a dose of alaricite. But why? It didn’t make sense.

Rose would let nothing show on her face. She had been caught off guard for a moment, wrapped up in her victory culminating in today’s forthcoming proposal. But it seemed the concubine had one last move to play. Somehow she had convinced the church to give her a vial of their cocktail. What was her play here? Most likely there was a paladin with her. Rose had not picked up on anything like that from the others, which meant Cassandra had gone through much trouble to keep this plot hidden. There was no time to search further, but that was for the best. Were she to touch a paladin’s hardened soul, he would detect her immediately.

Clearly, Cassandra suspected Rose to be a witch, and her final hailmary was to expose her today. Rose almost let herself laugh at such a crude attempt. It might have worked on one of the baby witches that Calanthe was gathering, but not on Rose. Some haughty little whore would not be the end of her.

She strode up the stairs with her back straight and paused at the first landing where Cassandra awaited her.

“Good morning, Cass,” Rose said, “What brings you down to meet little ole me? Did you know I was arriving?”

“Why yes, dear,” Cassandra said, “it’s your big day, after all.” She ended the sentence with a sneer. “I have something for you. A gift to commemorate the occasion.”

“A gift? Is that what you have?”

“Of course, it’s in my chambers. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Lead the way,” Rose said.

So they were going to see Cassandra’s pet paladin, then. She couldn’t very well back down now. She had goals to accomplish in this country, and if she ran now, it would only confirm her guilt. The only thing nagging at her was the fact that the church had given Cassandra one of their potions. Was it simply a matter of coin? Rose had never heard of the church parting with their precious metal so easily.

Rose followed Cassandra up another flight of stairs and down a corridor on the third floor where she held her room as one of the King’s favorites. Previous favorites. Rose smiled at the concubine’s back. Alright. Here goes the last obstacle.

Cassandra threw open the door to her bedroom and stomped inside, Rose right on her heels. The chamber beyond was separated into two rooms, the first being a smaller waiting room with a pair of sofas off to one side and several dark wood chairs positioned around a high glass table. No drinks or refreshments had been prepared, and it was obvious why.

Sitting on one of the couches rested the ultimate enemy of any witch. Un-helmeted, this paladin was a bit different than others she had come across. Most notably, his age struck her the most. His facial hair was all gray and even white in some places, and he held one arm propped up against his knee, resting his cheek in his palm. Unlike all the others she had seen before, he seemed…bored.

“Well?” Cassandra asked, one hand on her hip. “What do you say, then?”

“Excuse me?” Rose asked, placing a hand against her chest, feigning shock. “What is the meaning of this, Cass?”

The paladin laughed. He actually laughed. Rose didn’t know such a thing was possible.

“I was sent to watch you,” he said, “a whim of this pampered strumpet. My bishop is quite the fool. And yet…”

Rose was starting to get a bad feeling about this man. “Yet?”

“That will no longer be necessary.”

“Right. Of course it isn’t.”

“Yes. Investigation is no longer required.”

The paladin stood, and Rose almost took an involuntary step backwards. What the hell did he mean?

“It never was in the first place,” Rose said.

“A powerful wave of cursed power washed over the palace just moments ago,” the paladin said. Rose did not react at all, but inside all of her warning bells were ringing. Something was not right about this paladin. He shouldn’t be so perceptive. “And now the stink lingers all over you, witch.”

A huge smile blossomed on Cassandra’s face. What a bitch.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rose said, keeping her outward cool.

The paladin sighed. “You’re not going to run, are you? I’m too old for that.”

“And what reason would I have to flee?” Rose asked.

“So you’re a talker, then?” He sat back down. “Well go on then, try and convince me. These are always entertaining.”

This was the strangest paladin ever. Rose made her way to the table and chairs and took a seat. For a moment they just studied each other, remaining silent.

“What are you doing?” Cassandra basically screeched. “Take her away!”

“You may leave us,” the paladin said.

“What?”

“Go. You are uninteresting and irrelevant. Do not fret. This matter will be settled.” Cassandra scowled and turned a shade of red, but stomped out of the room at the paladin’s order. “Good. Now, let’s talk, shall we?”

“What is there to talk about?”

“Shall we drop the pretense?”

Rose should have already ran like he had suggested. Honestly at this point it was time to abandon this kingdom and move on. This paladin had already ruined everything. Yet he was also so strange, Rose needed to know more.

“You are set that I am a witch?” she asked.

“It is certain.”

“Then why are we just talking?”

The paladin rubbed his scraggly beard and sighed.

“It never hurts to gain more knowledge. At my age it is often those with whom I interact with the least that can still teach me something.”

“And you think I’d teach something to someone who wants me dead?”

He laughed again.

“Tell me. Do you imagine you can talk me down? Is that your power? Are you a second coming of the Witch of Suggestion?”

The Witch of Suggestion? Rose could only dream of what she could accomplish if she had powers like the infamous Witch-Queen-era paragon. She stayed silent for a moment, surveying the room. There were no other hidden paladins waiting to ambush her. No traps to ensnare her. The old man himself was bogged down in his silvery platemail and based on the lines in his face had to be at least in his sixties. She could escape at anytime.

“So if I am what you say, what is so wrong with that?” she asked, curious to hear the answer from an actual paladin’s mouth.

“You tell me,” he said.

“Is this the part where I confess all of my horrific deeds?” The paladin shrugged. “You persecute me because of what I can do. Is it so much different from what you can? Do you know what is in that cocktail you drink? Alaricite is magical by nature. In the old days they used it to forge mythical weapons. It absorbs magic, and you have it running through you at all times. Your power to sense magic is a power in itself.”

The paladin let out a long breath.

“Is that all then? Because I am guilty, you are not? Is that the best you can do?”

“Well—”

“My hypocrisy does not absolve you.”

Rose frowned. This paladin was too smart. Too…human compared to his fellows. Something wasn’t right, and she had an idea of why. Throwing all caution aside, she released the bottled up darkness swirling at her core. The paladin tensed, but he did not move. She reached out and brushed up against his guarded mind. It…it was not a bottomless void as it should be. Defenses were in place, but there were holes. Gaps. If she just had the right way in, or if she had more strength…

“What is it you see, witch?” the paladin asked.

“Y-you’re not dosed,” Rose said, her voice shaky and weak. Had the paladins found a way to make themselves permanently immune? It would change everything in her war against them. The church’s warriors were few, limited by the quantity of Alaricite that could be mined. If they could mass produce untouchable killers, her sisters were doomed.

The paladin grunted.

“When you get to my age, it becomes a part of who we are. Just like you said.”

Rose stopped holding her breath. That was a relief, at least.

“So that’s why you haven’t tried to kill me yet?” she asked. “Because you’re not completely shut off?”

Suddenly the paladin deflated, and he looked older and more tired than ever.

“Miss Rose…can I call you Rose?” he asked. She nodded. “Well, I wish the world wasn’t the way it is, Rose. Maybe your ‘old days’ were better. I don’t know. But today, you’re a threat to the balance of power. You know too much and are too powerful. Your magic frightens even an old veteran like me. You’re the most powerful and undoubtedly oldest witch I’ve ever met, which means you know where others are hiding. You are too valuable to kill.”

Shit! Shit, shit, shit! It was time to run, now. Yet there was one more thing she couldn’t stop herself from trying as long as the paladin remained docile. She gathered up all of her strength into a thin, dense needle of power and fired it directly at the paladin’s forehead. The force of it left her lightheaded and nauseous, but it worked. The cloudy, imperfect defenses honed by dozens of years of alaricite dosing cracked, and then shattered in an eruption of dark gray particles visible only to Rose. The paladin flinched, and then recoiled back into the cushion of the sofa, but she had him now.

All of his thoughts and emotions flowed into her in a one way stream that allowed her to read his every memory like a book. His mind was an absolute mess of self loathing and shame and regret. At what he had done, what he had become, what he would still do to keep the world safe. Children torn from their mothers. Mothers killed in front of their families. Five decades worth of cruel murder and torture weighed on him like a thousand stones stacked atop his heart. Yet still he justified it all.

Beyond what he thought of himself was another feeling that made Rose grin. At the forefront of it all, for the first time in decades, he was afraid. Afraid of Rose. Even after having stopped taking his doses, no witch had ever touched him. She could lean on this and perhaps intimidate him. The man still had no idea what her power was. If she played it right, she could stop him entirely. Or…there was another way.

The paladin reached for his sword and pulled it from its sheath, leveling it at Rose.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said, “I know you don’t want to.”

“Stop it,” he said.

“We both know it isn’t right.”

“Your kind causes devastation. You must know it.” His grip on his sword tightened.

“Some do, that’s true. But what about Flora?” Rose asked. The paladin flinched again as if struck. “Did the eight year old girl whose throat you slashed ‘cause devastaion?’ Or Jasmine? Lillian? What about those witches, Torval?”

Rose pulled up some of his worst memories as well as his name out of his head and threw them against him. His sword arm began to shake, and it faltered, lowering to a slant.

“Y-you’re doing something to me!”

“I’m not,” she said, a half truth, “only showing you what you already know, yet refuse to accept.”

“No. No, no, no!” he screamed, his free hand shooting up to his head where he took a fistful of his gray hair between his fingers. “NO! I won’t listen! I can’t!”

His sword came back up, and Rose read his intention before his lunged. She dove out of the way in time, but she was no warrior, and the paladin was extremely spry for his age. Her chair went tumbling out from under her and she hit the ground on her shoulder, already rolling to the side to avoid his next attack that she read coming. His foot would come next, but Rose simply was not fast enough. When she finished her roll, his boot took her in the chest, knocking the wind from her. She tried to suck in air, but his weight crushed her ribs and lungs, and tears began to form in her eyes.

Torval lifted up his sword with both hands high above his head, point aimed straight down. He was going to kill her right then and there. How stupid had she been to try and talk with a paladin of all people. Would she have made it if she had run from the start? It was too late to wonder now. Rose closed her eyes and accepted her fate. She had lived a long, fulfilling life. At some point she had stopped keeping track, but certainly longer than any normal person. Other than the the legends during the time of the Witch Queen, she was confident no one else had reached her age.

She waited. And waited. And waited. Death never seemed to arrive, so she opened one eye. That had been a mistake. The world around her was not…right. It had lost all color, and worse than that—so much worse—it moved and twisted in a way that made her heave immediately. She shut her eye tight once more after spilling her guts. What the hell was that? She was pretty sure she wasn’t dead, so then—

A mind shattering pain shot through her forehead, and a warbling voice that did not belong to any human filled her head.

Q͈̫͓͉͙̓̄ͩͮ͂̊ͅi̖̤͔͔͖͕͌ͮ̔ͥ͑̑x̬͎̻̞̭̜̍̒̀ͦ̍l̖͔̉͋̂l̞̮̺̺͙̜̝ͬ̔̓̃i̖͔̥͕̟ṇ̙.͚͍͌ͮ̄̄̀ ̖͔̝̥̦̥̀̆̍ͩ̄No̞̹̖ͣ̏ͭ̓ͩ͐’̠̯̪̏̒͒̎gͯ̓̎o̹͚̼͚ͦͥ̃̈́͗̉ͮs̮̼̬͕ͭ̋͋̓ͬ̿̌ḥ͔̪̻ͣ͆̈̓,͚͕͈̪͔̲̻ͣͦͤ̄ͨ ̝̪̫̟ͬ̊͗̚̚u͕̪ͣ̌͋ͤľ̺̹̿ͤ̾ͭ̄ ͇̓̈́̌͗͛̐t̉̿ͯ͊e͕̼̫̿̈́͛̋ͯ̏ͮm̫̤̪̭͍͓̣̎̇̽p̭̺͛̇ͧͣͦ̆ṟ̲̎̈́͐̅͒a̯̱͚̖̞ͧ̊͆ͤ.ͣ̾ͭ̂ͮ̾ͣ

Rose forgot everything else that had happened up until that point. This…this couldn’t be happening. She…recognized the language spoken to her. It was the demonic language from the old era. She had no idea what it meant, but there was no doubt. What little records she had retrieved over the years had allowed her to pick it out, but not comprehend.

“W-what do you want?” she asked. “Where am I?”

Ah. It has been so long. Forgive me, Qixllin. Your words do not suit me, but I will adapt. As to what I want, nothing but your survival, of course. And your location? I am not sure. This place was once called Brillenhime I believe.

Rose had never heard of that place, yet she had also not heard of a talking demon since the Witch Queen had been killed.

“W-why are you here?” she asked.

Your concentration of power awakened me. Long has it been since a Qixllin possessed the strength to bond with me. Accept my gift and this insect will be crushed.

It was too much for Rose to take in so suddenly. Not only was she supposedly the most powerful witch since the previous age, but also had just been offered a demonic contract.

“What does that even mean?” Rose had known every sitting member of the Dragonflies had a demon associated with them, but beyond that, she was clueless.

It means you live. Do you want to die?

“No.”

Then your choice is simple.

She found it hard to argue with that. “Okay. I accept.”

The bond is forged, Qixllin.

Her eyes were still closed, but somehow she knew that she was no longer in the strange world of the demon. When she opened them, the paladin was still standing over her, but something…else was there too, behind him. A spindly, writhing mass of eyeball-ridden tentacles supported a bulbous head with yet another set of bottomless eyes and a fang-toothed grin. A single, razor taloned claw was already sticking straight through the paladin’s chest. The wound was for some reason steaming. Wherever the paladin’s armor touched the demon, a sizzle filled the air and black smoke billowed out. Blood spilled from the new hole in Torval’s body, and his expression faded to lifelessness.

She would have thrown up again at the sight of it all if there was anything left in her stomach. And then like it had never happened, the demon vanished before her. Torval fell forward right at her, and she had to scramble out of the way to avoid being crushed.

Your power is drained, and you are still too weak for me to manifest for long. I leave the rest to you, but I have not yet given you my gift. Take it, and understand what it means to be Qixllin.

The well of power in her core filled to bursting in an instant, and then well past that. Her whole body felt like it was on fire as it did during the anniversary of her awakening. Pure energy coursed through her veins until it no longer hurt, instead begging to be explored. It was beyond anything she had ever imagined possible, eclipsing the raw, untamed power that came during those awful nights. She let it go, and her awareness spread out like the sun's morning light shining down on the streets of Toliak. No one's mind in the entire city was closed to her. Thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of thoughts and emotions hit her at once, far harder than the paladin’s boot.

They came as a jumbled amalgamation, and then in incomprehensible waves that sent her into bouts of rage, fits of crying, and hysterical laughter, sometimes all at once. But before she went insane, the guiding hand—tenacle?—of the demon was there, filtering the madness. Together with her, he directed the flow of their combined magic and taught her how to understand it all. For every second they were connected, her mind grew. And grew. Her perception expanded until she no longer needed to filter anything at all, and could process every bit of information she took in.

And yet still she was able to go further. She knew…everything. And more. Every state of a person’s mind was a direct result of the previous state they were in. Knowing this, and going backwards to establish a pattern, she could predict with perfect accuracy what they would do next. For everyone. Only her actions alone in a complex web of predestined movements would change anything at all. No. That wasn’t quite right. There were others. Anomalies. And voids, too. Wherever they touched the tapestry of fate, the outcomes changed or flipped.

She could deal with them later. For now, she needed to see how far she could go. Was this what it was like for the Witch Queen and her allies? Rose felt almost like a god. It was no wonder the church overthrew them.

She pushed her power to its limits, and looked into what she could see of the future. Minutes at first. Then hours. Days. Weeks. Months. Years.

Be careful how much you drink, Qixllin. Or you may drown.

Rose shook her head and tried to process what had just happened. He was most likely right. She couldn’t retain hardly anything of her drive into the future states of hundreds of thousands of minds years into the future. It just was not feasible, despite how much she had achieved so rapidly. Then what about her current situation?

Yes. It was almost too easy how to solve it. A hefty bribe to a corrupt bishop. A soothing, amorous night with the old king. A subtle purging of the concubine and her allies. In just a few days she would literally own Toliak. But then…the church would come. Not as quickly as she could take it, but they would find out. And she would be ousted, forced to flee and live with a target on her back. It didn’t seem worth it.

Yet if she left now, the paladin’s corpse would be just as bad. So then…wait a second. Torval’s body was gone.

You’re welcome.

Wow. Helpful demon he was. So, she couldn’t stay here, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a little bit of fun, first. She bent down and grabbed the hilt of Torval’s discarded sword. It felt heavy in her grip, but not so much she couldn’t give it a good thrust. A few steps later she threw open the doors to Cassandra’s chambers and found the woman waiting just outside. Rose grinned. There was no way Cassandra was going to miss Rose being hauled away by a paladin. It served Rose’s purpose perfectly. She strode right over to the wide-eyed Cassandra and buried the sword deep in her gut.

Leaning in close, Rose whispered in her ear, “Your plan missed one key fact: I always get what I want.” Rose twisted the blade and then let go, letting Cassandra fall to the floor in her agonized wails.

Using her power to map the routes of every servant and guard in the palace, she stepped out of the front doors without being seen once except by Larenthine and Jerome at the entrance who of course noticed the state she was in. From the demon’s brutalization of Torval to her own murder, blood had tarnished her previously immaculate gown.

“My lady!” Jerome nearly screamed, but Rose held out a hand.

"You never saw me," she said, taking his outstretched arm and dropping a handful of gold coins into his palm.

He stared down at the fortune with his mouth agape.

"A-are you bribing me? What's happened?"

Rose fluttered her eyes and beamed at him with her sweetest smile.

"Do this one thing for me Jerome. Just for today. I don't mind if you confess to lying tomorrow, but for now, you'd be saving me by letting me pass. Will you save me, Jerome?"

The man dropped his head, looking down at his feet,

"i...I—"

"Of course will we," Larenthine said from behind.

Rose swiveled her head and nodded.

“Thank you. Take her to the best place in the city with that gold, Jerome. You won’t find a better woman.”

Rose of course knew this final part of her speech was the best way to get them thinking of something else, and send the two spiraling into a confused awkwardness between them, but also she actually wanted them to work out. With a big smile on her face, Rose stepped out past the palace grounds, the world not quite yet ready for what she intended to bring. She would stop the spread of the church, vowing to herself that they would not cross the Great Sea.