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For when light ceases,

the dark need no longer dwell.

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I could do nought but stare out the window. The being that had exited the forest approached a group of similar-looking silhouettes. Albeit, there was a subtle key difference; they were armed, whereas the individual shadow carried not a blade at all. As the paces in between diminished - with each second- another shadow dropped to the ground; marked only the song of iron and stone colliding.

My jaw dropped in sync with the last armed shade. The unarmed individual had taken out all the ravaging plunderers with what appeared to be zero to no effort- and weapon-less at that. I quickly regained my calm demeanour before I charged towards the door. I knew for sure my parents would not allow me out the castle, but frankly, good men had laid down their lives already. I couldn't let it continue. If my parents didn't wish to interfere with the raid, then I would.

As I stormed down those hundred steps once again, I nearly lost balance in my haste. Swiftly leaning backwards, hoping I was not to trip, I managed to catch hold of the metal handrail. I slowed my pace down. Sure, the demesne's grounds could ward off all forms of dangers, from raiders to natural disasters; however, accidental fatalities always managed to creep their way through the most solid of defences.

I walked down, this time being more careful than before. I passed all sorts of rooms and corridors; even a few I had never noticed before, such as a trapdoor near the infirmary wing. Having scurried through the remainder of halls, I crossed the so-happily-called "Gateway of War". It felt as though some vague memory of how Father first mentioned the name around a decade ago- when I was nine– still lingered in the furthest of corners in my mind. I wasn't bothered, though. There was but one objective; reach the armoury to gear up and fight. I flung the doors wide open as I barged in. I should have expected it by now. Immediately, like afore, two pairs of eyes locked with mine. Father and Mother stood in the middle of the armoury while Father donned his armour.

Every time I entered the armoury, everything seemed to be out of order. Weapons had always been moved around and stored in the wrong racks. The only thing in the room that hadn't been touched– aside from the steel bars separating individual storage containers from one another – was the massive spruce wood table adorned with Arkyria gemstones. Each time I laid eyes on them; their magnificent, iridescent glow proved mesmerising.

"Cynthia!" Father snapped at me, undoing his lordly black cloak. He handed the cosmetic to his squire before reaching out towards me. He grabbed onto my shoulder. His eyes were blazing alive. "Go to your room immediately. Lock the door. Only open when you hear three consecutive knocks, my darling angel." He spoke incredibly fast, each word almost tripping over its predecessor.

No way I was heading up those dreadfully tiresome stairs again! I shoved his tightened hands off my shoulders. "No!" I screamed out before I had even realised. "I won't stand by idly while you two risk your lives for mine." I paused, only for a but a moment before softly adding two final words; "Not again." My voice had gone soft. The words almost sounded as though I was wheezing; barely audible. Nevertheless, they understood.

Mother approached. She wore a sad smile. "We know, love. We know well." Her voice was low, like that of a whisper midst the wind. "But heed well why we fight. It's all for you, sweetie." Only then did I notice the bloody stain on her waist guard. Mother must have seen my eyes trailing off to her wound as she laid a hand on my cheek. "I'll be just fine. Long as you're safe."

Father called out behind me. "Ah, Peter!" I turned around. Peter, in his nightwear, stood in the door opening, holding back a yawn. "Please assist Lady Maristela to her chambers." He looked just as shocked as I was to see the bloodstain. Although, Mother, once again, dismissed it as but another scratch.

As Peter supported my Mother, I couldn't help but frown at the sight of the limping in her movements. While she would never admit it to me, nor Father, she was in pain. So much pain. However, like always, she was simply too stubborn to accept she was no longer the warrior she used to be.

"How did Mother get herself injured?" I decided to ask, although, truthfully, I already believed to know why.

Father's composure washed away to be replaced by anger. "Some sick bastard slashed her abdomen during a poorly executed parry of an incoming strike aimed for a soldier's head. Luckily, it was a surface wound." He turned to the so-called War Table in the middle of the room. "A brave combat medic managed to sew her wound amid battle. However, when escorting your mother to the estate, he was on the receiving side of a Scorpio Mark.1 crossbow."

Grateful for the medic's heroic action, I asked, "How is his wound?"

Father frowned, "He didn't make it. The bolt penetrated his neck. Sadly, with so much force that damned metal devil tore through the man's body and landed in Maristela's leg."

I stood there, dumbfounded. I had no words in mind nor a response. I wanted to scream in disbelief. To cry, even. Though, all feelings paled in comparison to a sudden actualisation of nausea. I had no clue it was this grave. Initially, I thought the damage dealt was minimal, oh how I was wrong.

Father's voice snapped me out of my mental state of unrest. "Please, assure me you remain in the keep." Father's voice and face had gone back to their usual calm and stern sound and appearance. He looked me straight in the eyes. "I do not wish to worry over you, too, while I'm on the battleground. For 'tis a risk I dare not take, Cynthia."

"Not a chance!" I bit back. "I'm going, too." I reached out for the weapons on the walls. The arsenal ranged from rusted daggers, which I could only presume were meant to induce a poisoning effect of sorts, to longbows and steel-bolt crossbows. Some shimmered in the dull light while others did not. Though, a single one caught my eye unlike no other; a trophy weapon; Mother's famed Rosario Rapier.

Father stepped in between the blade holder and me. "I think not, sweetheart. You and the blade stay here."

"Make me." I smiled gently. "Let's see how that works out." I grabbed the blade regardless of Father's wishes. Manoeuvring back around him, I walked over towards the southern armoury door.

"Cynthia! Quit this nonsense!" He uttered, but I ignored him.

I was over-determined. For too long, I had allowed my parents to tell to stand down. But as the screams faintly resonated in the demesne's hallways, I knew. I knew innocent men, women and children were getting butchered by the many like cattle. "If you won't act on this, I will, Father."

"Honestly, you're just like your mother," he said. Father sighed, probably going over the countless arguments he and Mother had had, which he lost regularly.

"Then you ought to know I'll be 'just fine'." I retorted, strapping a belt around my waist to attach the rapier's hardened leather sheath.

Father shook his head in defeat, "Very well then. Only this time, Cynthia."

I heard a door slam shut. Tossing a swift glance, I saw two of Father's high-ranking guards enter.

"Fine by me."

Barely noticeable, I looked over in one smooth motion. I immediately recognised the two guards. Captain Vhersio, our premier swordsman, reclined against the wall. Beside him stood his fiancée, Adelaide, in her . . . unorthodox battle-garments. From her short white petticoat and camisole to the golden, engraved straps and long, ripped-open white sleeves in between sets of bangles, her battle wear was one of a kind, truly- and most definitely not tailored by our local designers.

Captain Vhersio yelled, his voice loud as roaring thunder, "What's the plan looking like, Chief?"

"We've lost control over the docking area. Most ships either sank to the bottom on the outskirts, or they've burnt down to crisps. As for the housing district, we have prevented most civilian casualties through the excessive loss of guards' lives." Father stopped for a moment. It must've been a hard thought on him. After all, he had trained most of the men and women serving the Guardian Corps himself. He had gotten extremely close to some of them; even offered one to become the head overseer at the Peninsula's sword fighting academy. "However, we did manage to safeguard the outer reaches of the city. Obtaining the Wharf's Headstreet will prove vital if we wish to cut off possible hostile reinforcements."

"My Lord, I suggest either Captain Vhersio or I accompany Lady Cynthia. In case the worst were to happen."

"Very well, Miss Adelaide, please escort-"

I glared daggers at Father for the briefest of moments. Surely, after Captain Vhersio's gruelling teachings in sword fighting, I didn't need a babysitter.

"Assist my daughter," Father emphasised, a glimpse of joy busting through his reserved façade.

"Very well, my Lord. We shall be on our way to bolster our foothold on the inner city's gatehouse and advance to the Headstreet from there. I recommend swooping in from the Farmlands, at least, if the remainder of our western forces manages to ward off these cowards." Adelaide spoke up. To me, she had, ever since her arrival at the island three years ago, grown into a keen tactician. Many, amongst whom I, too, believed she memorised the Wharf's every nook and cranny.

"Ada, Lady Cynthia, take care," said Vhersio. He stepped closer to Father, whispering into his ear.

I tried focusing on their conversation, though Adelaide jumped in. She got in between my sight on Father and the proficient swordfighter. "Lady Cynthia, we ought to hurry. Now." The words crawled over her thin lips.

I nodded in response. Adelaide strode towards the door; her black tendrils bounced rhythmically with each step.

Over the resonating echo of Adelaide's leather boots stomping the stone floor, I managed to catch onto a few words the Captain ushered: 'Grandmother's suspicion-'

Adelaide's voice overpowered Vhersio's momentarily. "Let's go-"

'the veil's been-.'

"Lady Cynthia." She held the door open for me, while her narrow eyes were gesturing me to exit. We left the room together. With a last-ditch effort to catch the essence of their conversation, I tossed a final glance into the armoury. Father and the Captain had moved from the central War Table. The two of them stood afront the locked trapdoor. Father had knelt, unlocking the door. They carefully lifted the floorboards, but before I could see what lied beyond, Adelaide dragged me off.

"We must make haste," said she, tugging my hand along the long, dimly lit hallways. She looked over at me, then to our locked hands. "Apologies for the intrusion, milady." Her hands were softer than I expected. In my head, she had always come off as this invincible battle master with steel for skin. I still recall her first day at the academy with me. She was a natural deadeye, though, her true skills lied in the field of hand to hand martial arts. Her brief sparring fight with Vhersio still lingered distinctively in my mind. Somehow, in some unbelievable fashion, she had unarmed the Captain with nought but her bare hands. "

I had realised I was staring at Adelaide unintentionally when she asked if I was all right.

She mentioned it, "You seem distracted, Cynthia."

Adelaide had always dropped the formalities when no other people were around. She tried treating me like an equal as opposed to a superior. And in response, I respected her and dared not see her as a subordinate of sorts. It had been like this since we first locked blades at the academy.

"Tis nothing."

"It better be nothing." Adelaide's sharp eyes had narrowed down, "When we are outside the keep's walls, stay focused and execute my commands."

"What? No." I responded. It wasn't often I had to obey someone else's call, aside from Father and Mother's. It felt strange and unusual.

"Listen carefully." Adelaide began, tightening her grasp on my hand. "I, long ago, vowed I'd keep his darling angel out of harm's way. I'm not planning on breaking that oath tonight." She finished, her face was devoid of all emotions but determination.

I understood but dared not respond. While we were around the same age, Adelaide had always had this air around her. A breath of supremacy, even though she had once revealed to be of low-born status. It was as though she held unbeknownst talent and insight dear to her heart.

She chuckled, "That's settled then." She let loose. "Let's move out." She hastened her pace. We excited the estate's outer walls. Walking turned into jogging under the night's sky.

The ambient screams and agonising cries rose to prominence. Smoke had partially faded out: I saw hell and hell alone. Spiralling towers of fire scorched the port at the hill's foot. I glanced to the right, only to see masses of men and women run across the farmlands. It was chaos- a chaotic, hectic mess.

Adelaide and I locked eyes for a moment. We needed not to exchange words, for we both understood one another.

She uttered a swift, "Follow me." And I did just that.

The abundantly, loud screams masked every step we took. Adelaide led the two of us through the intertwining alleys in the town. Within a few minutes, we had reached the streets connecting to the Headstreet. While it didn't take that long, each second felt heavy on the heart. We had evaded several groups of pillaging bandits.

I had sweaty droplets rolling down my forehead, whereas Adelaide showed no visible sign of fatigue aside from light panting. My physique wasn't like it used to be back in my training days. Not that I was the type to happily engage in battle. At my core, I'd love to say I was a sworn pacifist- Although, I knew well enough I was not.

Adelaide let out a short pant, her chest rapidly moved up and down, "Never knew a midnight stroll could be this tiresome." She muttered under her breath.

I smiled, laughing in silence. "Should we advance?"

"Depends. How many filthy pirates do you see?" Adelaide took a step closer to me.

"The place looks deserted," I answered.

She shook her head. "Strain your eyes to the darkness." Adelaide gently pointed ahead, "Hone your sight and vigilance," she added, her brown eyes had begun to shimmer under the presence of flames and shadows.

Within a split-second, Adelaide had unsheathed her longsword from her belt. "We are not alone." Her features seemed to have lost their humanity. She was expressionless. She radiated an aura unlike any I had experienced ever before. "You stay here. I'll capture the asset." Her lips curved slightly up, moulding into a sadistic, playful smirk reigning as her most salient feature.

"Yes, we will capture the asset," I emphasised.

Adelaide shook her head in amusement, "Always been stubborn, mhm, Cynthia?" She jokingly mocked me.

I retorted, "You honestly gotta ask?" I raised an eyebrow.

The joy in Adelaide's facial expression vanished instantly as noises aroused from beyond the corner. "Jokes aside, Cynthia, 'tis time to get serious. Now."

Agreeing, I gave an affirmative nod.

Adelaide tightened her grasp on her longsword's grip. The blade seemed far out of proportion. The pommel, guard and handle were extremely minimal, whereas the blade itself stood out most. Its ornate design with deeply etched ridges was one of a kind. "Let's carve some bastards." Even before I could respond, she had run off to battle with her sword at the ready.

I dashed around the corner. I followed suit while drawing my rapier. Adelaide had already been boxed in by bandits and alike. There were six, seven perhaps. How had I not seen them when scoping the area out? I let the thought drift off; now was not the time.

The pirating bandits weren't paying attention to me. They were all far too occupied with trying to breach Adelaide's overwhelming defences. She managed to parry strike after strike without any effort.

I crept up to a pirate loading their rifle. A fallen branch crunched under my boot, alerting the outlaw.

He promptly turned around to face me.

A sharp yet muffled grunt echoed in the dark for a split second.

It happened as if it were second nature; almost some bizarre, bestial instinct. I yanked my blade out of the man's throat. Crimson blood spurted to the ground, as he descended alongside the liquids, desperately clutching his throat.

My hands were trembling. While I had hoped it'd never came to this; the man was the first to fall prey to my sword. Tossing a glance back at the man, he had become an island midst a lake of glistening blood. The sight was a chilly one. Nauseating at that.

"Dea! Behind you!" Adelaide screamed her lungs out.

Dea? The name caught me off-guard, yet I turned around to meet a cutlass slicing through the darkness. It was only seconds away from beheading me. I felt my muscles stiffen up. The air around me had gone stale. Frightened to my core- every second went down the path of distortion; ending up to be experienced as an everlasting eternity. Grimacing, I closed my eyes. I didn't want to see the impending doom. God no.

Time kept ticking further. Nothing had happened to me whatsoever. Cautiously, I opened an eye- immediately to stare around. All the ruffians had smacked to the ground. A burning odour of sorts lingered-- No. More precisely; it was the smell of death. Half-incinerated body parts had been violently scattered across the alleyway. Anxiously, with my heart skipping a beat, breathing hitching, I glanced over at Adelaide.

The very ground beneath her somehow ended up being scorched into darkness. Lifeless sacks of blood and bones lied around, appearing as though they had been loosely sprinkled everywhere.

Adelaide turned to me.

Baffled, stunned and astonished, I could only behold the sight before my eyes. Lines of red glowing runes ran her madly throbbing veins. Her breathing was as though it belonged to a savage beast. Her eyes bore no resemblance to coconuts. In their stead, they gleamed a sinister maroon.

Adelaide's face looked otherwordly; lines of alternatively-shaped runes slid down from her narrow eyes, across her high cheekbones down to her sharp jawline. Her shimmering maroon eyes, devoid of emotions, locked onto mine.

She realised I didn't understand a bloody thing. Like how had- What the hell had just occurred?!

Her lips curved as she chuckled, her voice touched by ominousness, "Welcome to the World of Magick."