he sky was still a canvas of black paint when I woke up, occasionally dotted with few specks of stars, most of them hidden behind thick clouds. Even the moon was not shining as bright as it had done the night of the ball as though the entire world was dimming.

We walked fast down the secret tunnels of the Ether Palace, rushing so Leon and I could make it to the Shimderian Forest before dawn broke--through the magical gates lining our way. They would propel us through time and space, crossing dimensions in blinks just as we'd done through our journey, once we were out of the castle.

I had woken a few hours prior, the sky dark as I slept through all of yesterday and into a few hours before daybreak. It had been a shock, opening my eyes to see someone seated on a cushioned chair that was moved from the end of the room and placed right in front of me. And seeing Leon soundlessly asleep, reclined on that chair as though he had been guarding me all night long until sleep stole him.

Perhaps it was the easiness that came with rising after a good amount of sleep that made want to tease the Shadow and give him a taste of his own game. Thus, I was at his side in seconds, trailing soft kisses down his cheek and brushing my fingers against his scalp.

He was never a heavy sleeper so it took me only a couple of brushes before I felt strong hands gripping my waist. I was one lucky soul that he didn't throw me to the ground and had a knife on my throat, instead I laughed it all before I kicked him out of my room, saying we should change and seek the king.

Of course, he'd winked as he got out. But now, as he was a step behind me in the humid and narrow paths, I felt like I was melting all over again, what happened this morning only seeming to fuel that fire.

Father was swift, guiding the way only illuminated by a fireball not larger than my fist. I had nothing on me past the clothes on my back and the two tubes containing the water—Blest

Tears, Ramos had called them—we had filled back in Arelesia. Whatever we needed next would be provided from within the witch's forest, be it cloths or information.

We took another turn and crossed, fast-paced, the distance that led to the end of the passage, a gentle ray of light that flickered grey brushing around the hole. We slid from the opening in the rocks, breaching that magic that seemed to shatter dimensions like the one I'd crossed when I entered the Prelius Chateau, and were met by the Court Leader.

Leon and I both stared at the men in front of us, at the silence that clouded them, at the pain lacing their features. And then, in a blink, my father's arms were so tight around me they could have broken my bones. I returned the embrace, head falling on his chest.

His pulse was thundering, his magic hissing and trashing in his veins to send us back to his room, to hide us from the world, from that end he was trying so much to save me from. I felt burning tears slide down my nape as they dripped from his cheeks, and my arms locked harder around him, keeping him the closest I could. Hot, fat tears pooled in my eyes, some clinging to my lashes, some escaping and tainting my face.

"Still worth the risk?" I cracked in a low, broken and trembling voice. I couldn't leave him like this, couldn't step out of this castle and knowing he was heartbroken. But I would kill him even more if I stayed. Pain ripped my heart to shreds and threads.

"I would have gone there myself, angel. I would have slit their throats one by one if it meant keeping you safe. But—'' he took in a wavering breath—''if sending you there means finding a solution so you won't leave me for good, it is worth it." He kissed my forehead, his lips warm against my skin as they lingered for long. "Come back to me safe." He lowered his face so he could meet my eyes, emeralds locking in an unbreakable stare as he said, "Make them pay while you're there, for everything."

"I will,'' I promised, hands fisting the smooth silk of his sleeping robe. I would make them regret everything, would make them pay for every moment away from him, for every moment without Mother, for every drop of blood shed and every soul lost.

They would not know what would wreck them from the inside, who would bring them to their knees and cut their heads off one by one.

It was an effort to get out of my father's arms before I turned to Ramos, engulfing him with the same hug I'd just given the king once he let Leon out of his embrace. I made sure to remember how he smelled, the scent of nature and old books filling my lungs, made sure to memorize how his long, grey beard was always a mess because he kept running his fingers through it, how it slightly itched my skin with every hug.

I carved him in my memories as badly as I had done with Father, memorizing every single bit of him. I felt the shakiness that overtook him, felt how his chest heaved as he inhaled deeply, felt the thought running in his mind.

Not again.

I swallowed harder. He was watching me go, watching the woman that looked so much like the queen he'd raised slip from his grasp. And there was the fear that I would leave and never return, not from Eziara when both of them had a confidence we would make it out alive, but from the second Red War roaming around the corner.

I only pulled from Ramos's arms when the king voiced in a poor attempt to lighten the suffocating air shrouding us, his arm tightening around Leon's shoulders, "Make sure she comes back safe." He stared at him long in the eyes. "And look after yourself; I need you alive so we can go over some very important matters.''

The Shadow didn't even bat a lash as he replied, "How you haven't killed me that night after the dance, only the Gods know.''

Father laughed, the voice tight and strained and voided of life. "You surely are still pushing your limits, aren't you?" He stared at the Fire Lord for another moment before he hugged him tight, one hand patting his shoulder.

Father turned to me, letting go of Leon who came and stood alongside, and for a few minutes, we were unmoving in the lowest part of the gardens were we landed after leaving Taloan. It was Ramos that pointed at the magical runes that started forming on the ground and said, "Straight to Sorcha's woods. You know the magic the beasts gave you by heart, you know your mission, but you will know your true lies from the witch." A heartbeat of silence as they both studied us. "From now on, you are on your own.''

We didn't nod or blink as the earth vanished inside the circle of runes before light emerged from the gap. I stepped into that light, into the magical gateway, all the while holding the King and Court Leader's eyes.

I started vanishing to dust and cinders even the ache in my chest only grew. It was not seconds later that I was gone.

The forest was still asleep when we landed in front of the crystal throne, nothing but the feeble buzzing of the glowing bugs breaking the silence. Leon and I barely shared a glance before we took the road Siltheres had showed us during the days prior to the market. I didn't ask the Shadow about Rhia when we left, having picked her scent, heavier than usual, on him like she had cried on his shoulder for long hours, dreading his leave.

We were nothing but a brush of shadows going down translucent stairs as we kept moving deeper into the woods, more light birthing in the sphere lamps around us with each step we took.

We finally stopped once we were in the heart of the place, three figures dressed in white standing in front of us. Sorcha smiled, the light in it not reaching her eyes. Her sons, on the other hand, did not. The aura around the three of them was grim and I knew the plan they had placed for us to adopt was nothing pleasant. They bowed, all of them swift and graceful, the scene close enough to what happened in front of the dais during the ball.

I stared at Sorcha and Énor and Deres, still marveling at the similarity of their features to the point one would believe the Gods created the boys to be a copy of their mother. The only trace of their father was his scent, soft and gentle and weaker than the witch's. I nodded and they straightened before Sorcha extended her right hand.

"Follow me, Your Highness,'' she gently demanded before her eyes drifted to Leon. "Énor and Deres shall take care of you." She then stared at her sons with warm eyes and added, "We meet at the throne at dawn, one hour from now."

Leon and I barely nodded as we split, sharing one last look before we were taken each to a room that had no walls. Instead, intertwining branches and evergreen foliage forged the separation between each section. There was a small tabouret in the middle of the place, right next to a pile of shredded cloths.

I didn't wait for Sorcha's orders as I unbuttoned my tunic, throwing aside piece after piece of fabric as I took seat on the wooden furniture. With a wand in one hand and an ink bottle in the other, she started writing on my skin, a heavy magic she'd casted hiding the markings on my right arm. She had added a few drops of blest tears before she started inking, making the spell lighter on my flesh. Should there have been no protection, the darkness of the words would have been enough to tear my skin and poison my veins.

She was inking my back when she spoke in a low, gentle voice, "Elayda; your name will be Elayda from now on, which means daughter of death and darkness. Leon will be Aedis which is havoc and destruction in the Fallen's tongue." She dipped the pointed tip of the wand in the ink again before she continued, "The Fallen lived in tribes, some stronger than the others, and all under the command of the strongest. It was a mocking way Apocalys had used to make light of our ruling system. You descend from the strongest one. You are a born leader, a champion and deadly weapon."

She started inking my left arm. "The woman you will be playing is considered Apocalys's favorite creature, a pride and salvation that descends from their God's most favored specie. Leon will be the leader of the second tribe, and because Apocalys would never kill the demons he favors the most, he will be your mate."

She turned around, kneeling in front of me as she kept writing on my bare skin, focusing now on my right arm. She stared at my eyes as she kept on explaining, "Their legends and prophecies and myths are ours, only manipulated enough by people the Gods have sent so we can have advantage on them. Elayda and Celestia are the same being, both salvation given flesh, both favored by a God. The only notable difference is that Elayda isn't a queen. She will be crowned General of the forces Blake and Lysithea have and lead armies through war to victory. This is why they won't regard you as threat once you convince them with your lies.

"The Fallen are what Dearcious was forged into once he rose from his ashes; they are destruction given flesh and bones. They hold powers other demons don't, aside the mightier wings and sharper fangs and talons. They are elite when it comes to killing; they find joy in spilling blood."

There was silence after that. A silence that was filled with grief and regret and pain.

"You studied them before you killed them all when they attacked," I repeated what my beast had told me. She caught the urge in the words and inhaled deeply.

"They had attacked us here, Celestia. They had been able to infiltrate our barriers and our lands once before. They had killed so many of my people, targeting everyone here that originally belonged to Eziara. I was pregnant with Deres at the time, Énor only four months old on my arm." She stopped inking, hand hovering below my collarbone.

She sat on the green-covered earth, placing the wand and ink aside, and stared at nothing in particular. I didn't bother covering, half of it because I knew it would disrupt the ink being absorbed by my flesh.

"Énor was born in two months, Celestia. You know that the sooner the child is born, the stronger he was. They knew that, too. When they heard about him, there were constant attacks to kill my heir. When I became aware there was another child growing within me, I tried hiding it the best I could. But there were limits to what I could do and when they knew there was another Shimdera coming to life, they launched an attack on us."

Tears pooled in her eyes and she didn't bother wiping them away, letting them roll down her face. The agony that seeped from her made my heart fall in my chest.

"The Dark General was a shapeshifter, the strongest out of the three that ever existed. One of his brothers died during the onslaught on Arelesia, the other accompanied him with an army of Fallen here. They were scared of Deres, fearing he would be born even faster than his brother. They were terrified by the thought of having my bloodline—the Second Crown of Eziara—expending and defying their rule. So they brought hundreds and hundreds of deadly warriors through spies inside Cantelot and aimed at us.

"We fought—I fought—even when my magic was nothing but a kernel in my blood, the rest feeding Deres. My husband, Kallin, fought and protected these lands killing Fallen after Fallen. The ones that didn't die on spot, I caged them and sent them later on to your castle. The second brother of the Dark General died, ended on my husband's sword because he took the blow aimed at me—''

She covered her face in her hands, the woman in front of me nothing but the remaining of a broken wife left to grief alone through the years. Her voice was hoarse and raw and cracking as she forced herself to continue. "The General was left alone, every single sentinel gutted or imprisoned, his brother's blood splattered on my husband's unmoving corpse, so he fled back to Eziara. I sent the prisoners to the castle, locked them in the deepest dungeons, and studied and tortured them as I relished every bit of pained screams and grunts they let out. With each blow and whip I made sure they received, I was avenging Kallin, hurting them as bad as they had hurt me in taking away my husband, the father Deres never had the chance to meet."

This time, she wiped her tears away, took the wand, and sat on her knees again, working and talking at once. "I left nothing hidden about them, went as far as studying the patterns of their wings. Four years later, they all died.''

She stared at me, eyes filled with a hatred that was so unlike the Sorcha she showed to the world. "This will be your lie, Celestia. Claim they had children; claim the women we trapped was carrying you and delivered you a few weeks after being captured to show just how powerful you are. Leon can use this as enough of a lie as much.''

Her wand had finished working on my chest and was of my navel now. "You claim you are daughter of the leader, of the woman who has killed armies after armies with bare hands. You claim that before your mother was captured, you were fed by seven bloods, each referring to one species of demons, what explains the seven shades of red of your eyes. Your soul isn't young; not as old as Blake's, but only a few years younger. You will portray the wicked demon that has escaped after twenty years of imprisonment and torture, saying you were back to fulfill your role because war is near.''

Sorcha was working on my legs by that point, almost finished. "They are hopeless and waiting for you, this is why they will fall into this trap. But the lie goes as far; the rest is yours to figure out. You will need to play their game, hide behind a mask that is wrecked and wicked and as shameless as they are."

A heartbeat o silence.

"You will make them crawl in front of your darkness, you will make them worship you, Blake and Lysithea included. Whatever brag and boast you didn't speak off as Aether's chosen, you will talk about like you have never done before, repeating again and again just how much Apocalys favors you. You do not break; you do not show them weakness. You disobey and complain and show them you are power given shape.''

I only nodded as I watched her throw the wand and ink into one corner, both the objects dissolving into dust. My entire body was covered in words and runes and symbols. She pointed at the ink that was dark like a midnight sky. "You show them these words, you make sure they read them until their knees are shacking. And when you aim to give them the spell that can awaken Apocalys, you point at the one on your back.''

She then pointed at the pile of shredded fabric at the side. "You escaped with quite good information that you are to improvise when you see what they are planning. You already know this, but I can't let you leave without repeating this: they are demons; shameless and damned and living with no morals. There is no telling what you'll witness there, nothing to prepare you for that. They kill for pleasure, they eat raw flesh when they hunt, this is what they let us show. What is inside, you will discover it on your won, and shall the Gods be with you when you do.''

I started dressing, torn pants and scratched top barely covering me and the fake scars Sorcha had painted with the words.

"Leon is your mate there,''—a sly, faint gleam in her eyes, distant to the pain that was there before—''he is yours and you are his. You hiss and snarl and show your claws at women that stare at him longer than you like. You go as far as killing them when they try touching him. He does the same."

The smirk following was mostly faked, "I am sure you two will pull that just right.''

Destruction. It was destruction waiting for us, either for us to wield, or be wielded.

The Shimderian Witch came forward, placed both hands on my temples before magic surged through me. I blinked twice, feeling fire sear my blood and ice coat my skin. When my focus shifted again, I had claw and talons instead of fingers and nails. Sharp fangs found place between my teeth as massive wings sprouted from my back. A run of fingers in my hair made me realize it was cut so short, just at the beginning of my nape, and that there were curved horns at the sides of my head. Even my limbs seemed longer than before.

My symbol was nowhere near. And it made me feel naked in a way, bare without my magic and my shield.

In. Out. In. Out. Everything the witch had changed with me was completely under my control, wings especially.

Sorcha's eyes weren't soft when she spoke, "Meet us at the throne when you are done."

She would have stepped out of this room, or even vanish her way there, but what I said stopped her, muscles and limbs going taut. "The Dark General was the one that aimed at you, not his brother, who fought alongside just to make sure you didn’t end his leader."