“You may consult with the King of Prathe now, Lady Amalia.” A man wearing a purple and gold robe opened the door to the grand hall. He kneeled one knee and put his arm to his chest with a closed fist.

She nodded, pushing the door further into the hall, the first thing anyone would notice was the distance to the throne, and the purple, gold lined carpet. The two colors the two colors symbolizing the civility and honor that was Prathe.

She began walking the great distance. The reason for this was amusing; it was for strategic defense. Arcane knights like her would often be positioned in front of the pillars to act as a deterrent in assassinating the king. If anyone were foolish enough to charge in without a small army, their fate would be sealed by the seventeen different mages that would have activated their magic by the time the person even got a quarter of the way there.

Any ranged attacks were also rendered useless by the distance, a good archer would be able to shoot once at least before the mages came into action, but they’d only get the one chance.

She looked to her side; her squire was still holding onto the book, perhaps they should have dropped it off at their current residency before heading here. Other than the pillars many defenses relied on the guards having the first strike and nothing more.

At last, she reached the throne; she kneeled placing a fist to her chest, like the man before her. Her apprentice did the same.

“Raise.” He stuck out his hand, she did so and looked him in the eyes. His expression was at first the same one he gives the many subjects who speak to him. A sort of neutrality, one that doesn’t show anger or happiness. But upon her sight, his facial expressions relaxed giving a pure tone of care. “This is the first time you visited in two years!” He let out a chuckle. “What do you come for?”

“I came to give you a warning.” She said. Several of the mages in the room overheard what she said, deducting it to be a threat. Each of them took to combat stance; if the king didn’t raise his hand to stop them, she would have been turned to an icicle or a smoldering pile of ash.

His face returned to being stern and neutral. “Why is that?”

“A danger, I believe a monster is wreaking havoc in your country.” She replied.

“A monster?” He began to laugh, his face breaking character once again. “My provinces have some of the finest soldiers that have ever been seen.”

“The monster was able to wipe out an orc raider camp and-” The king interrupted her.

“Just an Orc camp? That’s nothing new. I’ve known soldiers who could do that with a single swipe of their finger… you being one of them.”

She was starting to feel a little agitated at the disbelief. “It was also able to burn down an elven village, slaughtering most of its people.”

He started to look a little more severe but less convinced. “Are you sure this was the same creature?”

“Yes, the way the corpses were left led me to believe both incidents were related.”

“How were they found?”

“Mutilated… My king.” Her squire inputted, the king’s stare was like swords, willing him to go on. “They were ripped open and had their insides torn.”

At this point, even the knights all around them were intensely listening in. The king leaned back into the throne. He put his hand on his chin, rubbing the stubble. “This must be the work of those rogue mages.”

The squire looked at Amalia, who in turn gave him the silent order to correct him.

“My King, I...- We do not believe that it is their work.”

He stood, “So you expect me to believe that a ‘Monster’ destroyed an entire village of elves, who have a greater magical capability than any one human?” His anger was seemingly brimming. “I’m not simple, squire. A monster is incapable of feats like that.”

“I do not doubt your intelligence, My King.” He paused. “It’s just an observation that we’ve come across.”

The king sat back down. “I’m sorry, young squire. It just sounds preposterous.”

The doors to the grand hall were opened with an energetic slam. The guards sprang back into a defensive position on the carpet. Amalia unsheathed her sword about half way before the voice at the end of the hall echoed. “My King! Urgent news!” A man with a falcon on his shoulder took off down the path. He, of course, was accompanied by the purple-robed man.

“At ease.” He said, cueing his guards to step aside. The only ones that remained were the squire and Amalia.

“My King.” By the time he reached Amalia, he was out of breath. He appeared to be holding a small note in his hand, which Amalia relieved him to read for herself. Upon reading the contents she had no change in facial status, she calmly held the note out for the King.

He was in total shock, disbelief. He was at lost for what to do. That’s when it came back to him; he was the king, he had to take action.

“Amalia, Take some knights with you and travel to Holden.”

She put an arm to her chest and nodded. She turned and started to leave.

“Be safe.” The King said.

“I do not intend on leaving your brother without his daughter.” She walked away with her squire.

~Hours earlier~

The two wore the robes of the mages and returned to Holden. Upon seeing the ‘return’ of the mages, many of the knights that had been tasked with keeping the people safe met them. They asked questions like, ‘What were those things,' ‘Did you kill them,' and ‘I owe you a pint.’ All of them were answered with silence. The two girls merely gauged the growing crowd to what was next in line to be a meal, quick judgment lead to practically none of them were proper meals. At best the entire town would suffice as a light snack between the two girls. And so they tested that.

They ripped through armor and cloth alike. They didn’t stop to feed, any blood that happened to fall into their mouths was enough to warrant the killing.

However, there was a deduction that most knights that they fed on had a slightly higher magic content than the civilians did. Pretty soon they had laid the streets out with bodies and stained just about everything with blood.

If there were any survivors, it’s entirely possible they wouldn’t reveal their hiding spots for days even after the two had left.

“Sister, this place is dry.” Hera pointed out, licking her claws of blood.

Rinae placed the hood back over her head that was knocked down during her movements. She entered a distinctive looking, tall building. Inside was an awkwardly high ceiling, birds fluttered about, some were locked in cages others were free, but still mainly trapped within the structure.

On the floor was a blood trail. Someone must have been injured and crawled their way here. She followed a short distance to find a corpse, lying on its stomach. A small window was above a desk with a cage. The cage was empty, and the window was open. On the desk was a tanned piece of parchment with scribbling on it. To her, it looked pretty useless, but at the same time it looked important, she took it. She’ll figure out what it is eventually.

“We’ll find new hunting grounds.” She said answering the earlier statement.

The girls walked out; It seems things have gotten a bit windier. Her hood fell behind her. The two stood side by side in the middle of the town. There was a group of militiamen at the front stood the man who saved her, Erwin. He must have arrived after the main carnage took place, considering all those knights appeared from nowhere.

“He looks very tasty,” Hera said noticing his aura.

“Eat the others; he’s mine.”

Hera was a little disappointed that she couldn’t have the more significant food, but a meal is a meal, even if it was going to leave her stomach still close to running empty. Also, if she'd disobeyed, she might have to deal with Rinae, who was the stronger of the two.

He noticed the familiar face of the woman standing. “Rina, why?” A simple question that was often asked when families were slaughtered, and destruction prevailed. She gave him the same look she gave all her prey, an icy emotionless stare.

He unsheathed his blade with a hesitance.