Sylvanis walked out of the castle.

She stopped for a moment to pick up a dagger from the corpse of two guards by the palace gates and then began down into the city. No soul stood in her way, though men in armor now to and fro. She watched them search the palace grounds, watched them race throughout the city, as she made her way down the road to the gates. She walked uncontested to the entrance of the city, staring out into the night.

There she saw Deyus, surrounded by guards with spears in hand.

Sylvanis moved forward.

Without even a moment of thought or pause, she stepped behind a guard and sliced the dagger through his throat. The others turned, and Sylvanis held up her hand. Her serpent lunged from the bushes, clamping down on one guard and wrapping them up. As the others turned to skewer it, Sylvanis killed another.

One remained. As he tried to flee he tripped over a corpse in his haste.

Sylvanis commanded her servant to strike him, and the serpent reared its head and struck down six times. Then it coiled the man up and crushed his lungs with its weight.

A biting chill struck her heel, and Sylvanis looked down.

A dying guard, still breathing, pulled back to swing his sword again.

Sylvanis stepped over him. She stepped her heel upon his wrist and knelt down on his chest, and then began to stab the man. When he was dead she stood, and she looked off towards her love.

Deyus, soaked in sweat, stood unharmed. Alive.

“Oh Deyus,” Sylvanis smiled. For the first time she felt some measure of warmth. There he stood safe, alive. Thanks to her.

He called her name.

“What is it, my beloved?”

“…what have you done?”

Deyus asked this, and his own words trembled.

Sylvanis looked about her. She looked down at the corpses, and her serpent, and the bloody dagger in her hand, then to her white dress stained with blood and dirt. She turned back to Deyus.

“Oh, love,” she said quietly. “I have saved you. Finally, by my own hand, I have saved you.”

No look of gratitude filled the boy’s eyes: only fear.

“You killed them without mercy,” he said.

“What mercy is there for those who threaten the man I love?” the girl asked. “Would I trade their lives for yours? Gladly, and without a second thought.”

“Without pity?” the boy repeated. “Without remorse? Sylvanis, what has become of you?”

Sylvanis glared forward, then. Her eyes narrowed to sharp slits.

“You would chastise me?” she glared. “You would berate me for my rescue?

“Indeed, take care,” a new voice came, happy and dark.

The shadow appeared from behind Sylvanis, up from the earth below.

Deyus reared back and fell to the ground.

Sylvanis turned.

“The girl you see has traded much for your freedom, boy,” the shadow said, and smiled. “You should not be so quick to judge her so. All that she has, she has given for your safety.”

“What is this demon?” Deyus cried. “What bargains have you made with this thing?”

“All bargains,” the shadow said. “At all costs. And I have upheld my end, little witch. The boy you love is safe.”

“At last,” Sylvanis said and sighed. Then she looked upon her love.

“Goodbye,” she smiled. “Go and enjoy the life that I have won for you, my love.”

“I do not understand,” Deyus said.

“There is no need for you too,” she replied. “Only do not forget me.”

And Sylvanis stepped forward to give her love a final embrace.

But Deyus recoiled. He stood and backed away from the girl, and he glared at her and the demon, and he spoke.

“Do not come closer,” he said. “I do not know you, you who bargains with the devil, you who murders with her hand. You are not my love. You are not the gentle girl who I once knew, but a hollow apparition in her form. Do not taunt me with her warm embrace, for yours is cold and unfeeling. Do not tempt me with her earnest smile, for yours is wicked and deceitful. Who is this girl who stands before me who has lost all mercy and compassion? Give back to me the Sylvanis that I once loved!”

Silence swept between the two, then.

Sylvanis looked over without expression. Then she began to laugh.

She laughed, and the remnants of her sorrow congealed into pain. She laughed, and what was left of her heart collapsed within her chest. She laughed, and the shadow behind her grew darker, and taller, and strong.

Then Sylvanis lifted her hand, and ordered her servant to strike.

“Who is this girl, you ask?” Sylvanis screamed in the night. She ordered her servant to strike again. “It is what I have become to save you! Do you know what I have given? Do you know what I have sacrificed? I have given you everything, Deyus! Everything that I had! My feelings, my thoughts, my kindness, my compassion. All of it traded, all of it surrendered, for you! And now you dismiss it? Now you mock me? Now you curse me for what I have up given for your sake?”

Again and again she swung her arm forward. Again and again the serpent lashed out.

“I’ve given everything!” she wailed. “Everything I have because I love you!”

And Sylvanis stopped. Her anger vanished, her hatred ceased. A fog lifted from her mind as though she’d been draped and clouded in an evil spell.

And she looked upon the corpse before her, bloodied and dead.

All at once feeling returned to her.

“Deyus,” she whispered.

The boy lay still.

“Deyus!”

Sylvanis screamed. She rushed to him. She dropped to her knees and splashed her dress with his blood. She lifted his body, cradled his head, and shrieked his name. She burst into tears, cried for him, called for him, buried her face into his chest.

But he lay still, and motionless, and dead.

Sylvanis, wailing his name, cried into midnight.

“You are truly amazing, little witch,” the demon behind her said, and grew