blur. Everything around and within me was nothing but a hazy blur. Even the rush of magic and adrenaline as I darted through the woods so fast eyes could not notice me--with Leon at my side--wasn't enough to get rid of the heavy weight on my chest. Wasn't enough to stop feeling like I was lost. And broken.

Not friends. Never friends anymore.

There was no going back to that point, not now, not ever. Not even with Death reaping us apart. I could not even tell when we stopped being just friends, when the way I stared at him changed.

But not lovers.

We'd never had been quite lovers, even with all that was said under the willow.

There was a sweet and warm flame growing between us--and more than just a flicker--but not a trashing fire. It could have grown with little more time, could have turned to something divine.

I didn't have that time in my hands.

And perhaps it was that Leon knew stopping here, in this blurred circle where we had been roaming for a while now, was the right choice that made him agree. Or perhaps, it was to ease the pressure falling on me, to not break me in my last days, to spend time like I--we--needed it even when it tore us both from the inside. Our love was sweet poison, a delighting curse. And the sword at our necks.

So I ran. Ran like I had never done before. Ran like I would never feel the winds on my skin and in my hair, like I would never know again how my muscles felt as they shifted as I dodged, how the earth felt beneath my near bare feet. I ran like I could free my heart from the cage I'd picked, like I could turn into that wind that billowed through my cloak, and unbind.

The woods were nothing but tall trees bathed in a dying darkness as I jumped over bumpy roots, slipped under massive and almost bare branches, and enjoyed the cold bite of water on my skin as we passed through small streams. The only times I didn't keep full focus on the lands surrounding us and those far, watching eyes, were when I would turn to sneak one or two glances at Aedis, every time smiling at him as he caught those gentle stares. He always smiled back.

Yes, I could live with that choice, could be locked in this blurriness if it meant being near and protecting him all at once.

It had been hours since we left the clearing, running non-stop and as fast as hurling winds. There was roughly a third of an hour before dawn would rise and turn to day, and roughly half that time before we reached the wicth's cottage.

We were jumping over a bunch of rocks when a sudden ache shot in my very eyes, a furious pounding of blood drumming and closing and squeezing my skull. I landed with a hiss, hands dug in the dirt as I pushed back the magic narrowing on mine.

It was cold, as though ice pierced the spot right between my eyes. I pushed it with no harshness, instead brushed it with mental claws, pulling it slowly before those claws dug in the barrier around us. Something in the woods rippled, a line of growls surging in the still air. I allowed a bit of magic to seep, to break that barrier as I saw with every detail through my Ealas and spirit where it originated from.

The borders of my vision were not hazy like they had been before, when I was weaker and younger. Now, I could see the tiniest of details, pick the faintest of magic wafting in the air. I was not only stronger or sharper or faster, I had become power. Through my magic, I saw our destination: a small cottage standing under bowing trees. The enormous branches, all covered with black leaves, bent down like a blanket around the house that was built of wood and concrete, the roof glinting red like fresh blood.

I felt shifts inside the house, a few grunts followed by soft and silent footsteps that were so light the old wood didn't groan under the movement. Then, there was a slight breeze in the magic around us that was like a light, invisible fog. And a growl.

I remained in my crouched position, fingers still curled in the muddy ground as I became conscious of the warm breaths puffing in front of my eyes. I didn't even flinch at the stinkness in those breaths and opened my eyes, my swirling, red ones meeting with two eye sockets that would have been empty wasn't it for the fire burning in them.

That fire--those eyes, I supposed--were hard on me as I slowly, slowly pulled back, rising on my feet. It was then I stared at the beast, taking in the massive body as it stood. A direwolf with a pelt that was whiter than pure, fresh snow was unmoving in front of me, its massive size swallowing everything around us.

It was so enormous the wolf had to bend its head to stare at us, snarling all the way, showing two, sharp canines the color of iron. But it was not snarling at us, but at the enchanted chains, a golden swirl of glowing ruins around its neck that held him in place.

I didn't take any other step, even when the hound was tied in place, and only stared as Aedis--who had placed one hand on my lower back as I stood--stepped in front of me and stared with smoldering eyes at the creature in front of us.

Not a demon. The witch could not have devils lurking around, either she truly bent the knee to Lysithea or not.

Demons didn't belong in Cantelot, traitors or no traitors. It was still safer than having massive creatures the size of this wolf walk clear to the eyes all around.

The wolf howled as Leon raised his hand but stopped, nonetheless. It did not bark or growl or make a move to attack as that hand fell on his neck, just above the chains. I made sure of that, sliding into the animal's mind to tell him we were not enemies. To allow him to sense that kernel of light inside of us, all the while making sure that witch observing us through her magic didn't.

The next thing I knew, the wolf sat like how a dog would do, shaking its tail and growling with delight, ears twitching as Leon's fingers brushed its fur. The Shadow turned to me, the edge of a smile tugging at his lips as he nodded his head. I stood forward, mirroring Aedis's action and brushing that whiteness that felt like fluff and silk as it caressed my skin. That shaking tail tossed from on side to the other harder, the earth shaking beneath it.

It was nothing more than a massive pup.

I had kept the bridge between Leon and I's minds, never breaking it once. So, down that connection, he said, 'The last direwolf I have seen was when I was four. It was not bigger than a grown dog, always playing around me until one night it escaped and never came. '

My hands stilled and I turned to Leon, to the frail, starved form we had decided to wear again when we left the clearing.

'That was what I was told. But the truth was that Mealin skinned it and sent the head on a spike. I only saw it when Mother snuck it out in the middle of the night to bury it without me knowing. It was years later that I knew who had killed my pet. He always targeted what I had, always made sure to destroy everything that could protect me and keep me company all at once. '

He added nothing to that, but I felt the echo of those words. It started with his direwolf and then reached his mother.

But it didn't end there, and it would never do until one of them breathed his last.

He stared back at the wolf, at the creature that was supposed extinct, Leon's perhaps the last recorded through years. How this one got away and under our eyes, I had no damn idea. But it was a relief, knowing they were not all gone. That the beasts that could grow at will to be the size of a mountain and that were loyal to their owners to the last drop of blood--deadly hounds, for the matter--were not all gone; a slim chance of saving this species still existed.

"Take us to your mistress."

The direwolf's tail stopped tossing and I felt the muscles beneath my hands go taut. The chains of runes seemed to squeeze around it, stealing a pained whimper from the animal. I sensed the gentle stir of magic, sensed the order that shot through the air like an arrow and straight to the wolf. With a broken growl, it turned, the chains pulling it against will to the cottage.

This beast, I realized, never willingly obeyed its mistress. It was only tortured and dragged around by that damned collar of runes and spells. We followed the direwolf, jumping over the crates its massive paws and claws left as it made it's way with a predator's stillness, eyes darting and ears twitching with every rumble of a sound in the woods.

The wolf kept moving and so we did, falling deeper into the deserted nature where that faint magic oozed from. This was close no bit to where we had left the horde of villagers, or to the wealthy city and villages dotting all around it.

Even Radaz--the closest city who was known for its enormous lakes and heavy procured amounts of fishes that satiated Cantelot's needs--was far away.

Even when Cantelot still counted on the outer continents for many goods--Arelesia for fishes and salts and minerals and metals. Nevora for spices and gold and silver and fertile soil and silk, Rimelia for iron and everything used in spells and magic and wool and wood and so much more--we had to provide our own sources. Especially that what we received from the other continents kept dimishing every year.

Every month. It was either that their goods were not many or that the Umbra Warriors were rising their fees, and sometimes it was both.

And located here, in the midst of nowhere, I wondered how that witch could gather all her needs, being bound by her curse. Even if she tried, Radaz, the twin city to Zadar whose first lords named by Leander were twins with the same names, each backward the other, was still a day of horse riding away. The cities' lords had surely left their touches on the cities, even when Zadar served wealth and shops and fabrics and many blacksmiths unlike its sister.

We kept delving deeper, the trees turning grey and black, long and dark threads lining their trunks like pulsing veins of black blood. The air was heavier here, fed with a feral sort of hatred and darkness. It was poison nourishing the trees and grass and nature all around here; all the failed experiments and potions that were good to nothing thrown out to destroy these lands.

She was locked here, prisoner inside of her own freedom.

When the cottage came to sight, it looked like it had done in my vision.

The roof, I now noted, was truly covered with blood, the smell of rot and death polluting my lungs. The wooden walls were covered with grease and dust and a few fingers sticking out here and there, skin pale and decaying. Even the nails were dirtied with dried blood and mud.

The direwolf stopped five feet from the black-painted door and sat on its four, howling as the chains tightened and forced its head to the ground, dirt sticking to the white of its smooth pelt.

Oh, that witch would pay. I would make sure of that.

Aedis stepped in front of me as I snuck a couple of glances at the windows, the glass foggy and covered with thick, black fabrics that prevented any sort of lights to enter. He banged on the door, claws out and fists shaking the piece of wood so hard he almost tore it from its hinges. The entire cottage seemed to rattle, a few eyeballs falling from the gutter and thudding next to his feet. He kicked them away, face as blank as mine even when my stomach churned at the sight.

Even the witch's pet tossed the eyes that fell next to him, snarling at them. I was quite disappointed to see our witch wasn't already out, waiting for us since she did know we were coming for her. It was after two hard knocks that the door opened, revealing the face of a young woman.

It was pale in the darkness around her, contrasting with her hair that was such a deep red in color it looked like cascading blood that reached the middle of her back. But her eyes...Gods above. It was like staring into a pit of nothingness, like the void of death was there, swallowing us. The only thing breaking that blackness was the ring of grey adorning her pupils.

I only tucked my hands in the pockets of my cloak when her face, bleached even more with shock and what might have been fear as she quickly picked just what creatures lurked in front of her house, tilted back inside of her house. There was a beautiful tinge of terror in the air as Aedis, with the accent all the Fallen used, asked, "Where is she?"

The young one, the maid I supposed whose footsteps I heard through my Ealas, dared a glance at those pointy fangs and claws. And decided it was better not to argue.

She stepped back, allowing us in before shutting the door in a haste. My claws were out the moment she locked it, my eyes taking in everything she did and every corner of the house.

I smirked. "Scared of some strangers sneaking in, little one?"

She didn't freeze, but I saw how her muscles tightened beneath her sleeping robe, the cotton pale and old and torn at the edges of her sleeves. There was no one around here for a good distance, that and the magic that stirred anytime someone got too close.

Her voice was unwavering and cold in a way I couldn't place as she merely secured the final one of the eight locks and replied, "Mother's wish."

I arched an eyebrow. A daughter, then. And a wise one for not meeting my eyes.

"What is your business with her?"

The daughter pulled on a robe, covering her nightdress as she breathed the question. Leon didn't fail in seeing the bit of metal attached and hidden in it. Neither did I.

Aedis seemed to study her for a long heartbeat before he was in front of her.

He was so fast she stumbled back from fear, back hitting the wall and breaths leaving her mouth in gasps. He held her chin, claws pressing enough to scratch her pale skin.

Her aura trembled, magic that picked my curiosity hissing in her blood. But I didn't comment on it, not now. Instead, I leaned back against the opposite wall, this one of concrete, and watched unblinkingly as Aedis pulled the knife from under her sleeve.

A soft clang echoed as steel met tiled floor, the blade glinting under the dim candlelight.

"Next time," The Shadow breathed in the small distance between them, "the knife will fall straight right here." His claws pointed to her chest, just over her beating heart.

It might have been years of horrors and facing and talking and dealing with demons that didn't make her legs tremble. Scared, yes, but not terrified.

"Windreapers have a custom in eating their prey's heart after killing it." I could swear I heard how her heart trembled in her chest at my words, at the feral smirk Aedis wore. She might as well be forged from steel but nothing and no one could face two Fallens that looked starved and ready to feast. "Unless you wish to fill my stomach, girl, you would be cautious even in the way you breath."

She pressed herself harder against the wall as though doing so might save her from the predators around her, from the claws inches away from ripping her to shreds.

Aedis, after a long and hard heartbeat of tensed silence, placed distance between them before he sauntered his way inside the house with a feline smoothness, head high even when his body was no more than bones covered in skin.

And the way he spoke, the way that deadliness in his eyes glowed as he eyed the witch's daughter like his next meal, I hated myself for seeing Mealin in him.

But they were still from the same blood, still father and son and bound no matter what. Rhiannon was Estelle in every move, but Leon was not. Leon was bits of here and bits of there. And I wondered if he hated it, staring at the mirror and seeing how the sharpness of his jaws, how the ever present malicious gleam in his eyes, how the mysterious air he carried around was just like his father's. Wondered if he despised this new skin because it was everything Mealin tried to make him, every attempt to convert him into one

of Lysithea's dogs

But either he did or did not, he didn't show it.

"Go," he ordered and even my blood chilled out at that lethal edge to his voice, at the cold posture and commanding air he owned so well.

"Bring the witch and tell her we have an offer to make."

He merely tilted his head toward us, staring down at her through the corner of his eye like a demon king staring down at his slave.

"Keep my mate's warning in mind, girl. Twenty years of imprisonment can make a Windreaper feed on anything."

The woman didn't breathe, didn't blink, didn't shift in place for a good few heartbeats. Not after the way Aedis spoke to her, not after picking the stares that roamed all over her like her flesh was my feast.

And then, she was out of the entrance and down the stairs that led underground with footsteps that were not louder than feathers falling on marble ground.