"Where is the priestess, demon?" The words dripped from the dark mage's lips like venom, his crimson eyes boring into Agas. This malevolent figure is none other than Ahriman, a dark mage with even darker intentions.

"She is dead, sire," Agas responded with an unsettling confidence, his chin held high in a manner bordering on arrogance.

"You lie! I see her in my dreams!" Ahriman's roar echoed through the shadowed chamber, and for a fleeting moment, fear flickered in Agas's eyes.

"But sire, I struck her down—!"

"Fool!" Ahriman's hands glowed ominously, crackling with tendrils of magic. But just as quickly as his anger flared up, it died down, and so too did his magic. "Perhaps it is for the best. I have changed my mind. I would prefer her to live."

Though Agas was visibly relieved by the lack of immediate violence, he still remained wary. "I do not understand, sire..."

"Death is but a swift escape," Ahriman mused, the gears clearly turning in his mind. "I want the priestess to suffer. A slave suffers a lifetime."

"So you shall have her enslaved? But... how?" Agas asked. He certainly was not close enough to Ahriman to judge the demon's character, but to waste such time and energy on a single woman was unusual, even for him.

"I have a new servant who wishes to become a daeva," Ahriman answered coolly, his gaze remaining fixated on Agas. "He knows the land where the priestess has fled to."

"He wishes to be one of us? He must be dark indeed," Agas remarked.

Ahriman inclined his head in the barest semblance of a nod. "Dameon, show yourself," he commanded.

A young man emerged from the shadows, seeming to barely be out of teenhood. Despite his apparent youth, he was draped in elaborate robes that marked him as someone of high rank... A rank that Agas was convinced he had to have been born into – surely, no child could bear the role these robes signified.

Agas recoiled with a hiss, as if Dameon's mere presence caused him pain. "A sun priest?!"

"Better," Ahriman responded with an unsettling calmness. "A druid. The sun guardian."

Agas whirled around to face the demon, his anger momentarily overriding his fear. "Better?! How can this be better?!" he demanded, his voice rising with every word. "Are you not afraid he will destroy us?!

"The sun god has betrayed me. I work against him now," Dameon declared with an air of cold detachment. His lips curled up into a sinister smile as he turned to face Ahriman, ignoring Agas entirely. "I know a slave trader who will find the priestess a harsh master. My mother will get what she deserves."

Rhen rushed out of the room she shared with her parents, having hastily gotten ready for the festival after waking up to an empty room and realizing she'd overslept. The Spring Equinox was something she looked forward to every year, and she would have hated to miss any of it.

Rhen almost literally ran into the priestess in her rush to get out of the house, although the woman thankfully seemed to be unaffected by the impact.

"Hello, ma'am," Rhen greeted her breathlessly, mostly just waiting for the priestess to move aside. "How are you today?"

The priestess smiled at her, a coy expression on her face that seemed to suggest that she knew something Rhen didn't. "Hello, chosen one."

Chosen one? How strange... The woman is obviously a nutter.

"So... Daddy says he knows you," Rhen said, her curiosity overtaking any wariness she felt towards the priestess.

"Your father..." The priestess looked distant for a moment before she continued, "Yes, we knew each other a long time ago."

Well, at least her pa hadn't been lying about it, although Rhen couldn't think of why he would. It seemed pretty clear to her that there was something neither Pa nor the priestess were revealing, though. It was odd, but she supposed it was for them to work out – perhaps they had a former relationship or something.

Before Rhen could ask anything else, the priestess pulled a ring from her finger. It was simple, but clearly made with a fine metal of some kind – silver? Rhen couldn't tell – and a twinkling turquoise gem set into the middle.

"Here, take this," the priestess said urgently, her green eyes filled with worry. "It will offer you protection. Keep it on at all times, do you understand? It is very important."

Now Rhen was even more confused, but she did as the priestess asked anyway. Somehow, the ring fit perfectly on her finger. If Rhen didn't know better, she could have sworn that the ring changed its size to fit her finger. The strange woman's request seemed silly, yet at the same time, it was compelling. Still, it couldn't hurt to humor her – it was just a ring, after all.

Warily, Rhen asked her, "Who are you?" Obviously, this woman – this priestess – was someone important. There had to be some reason that this woman came so far out of her way to Clearwater, which was nothing more than a backwater village... And it couldn't possibly just be because the woman knew Rhen's pa.

"I'm a priestess," the woman responded, as though that weren't obvious, "from a land far away. I've come to protect you."

...Or she's just a nutter. Yup, that's definitely it.

"I don't need protecting," Rhen insisted, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She was almost fifteen; she could take care of herself just fine.

The priestess just smiled again, that same coy expression on her face. "We shall talk more tomorrow. Keep the ring close."

With that, she finally moved out of Rhen's way, and Rhen took the chance to scurry past her to the front door. The hustle and bustle of the festival was practically in their front yard, and almost as soon as she stepped foot outside, her father waved at her with a fond grin. Rhen waved back with a grin of her own, making her way across the town square.

Everything seemed brighter this year, more colorful: the maypole with its ribbons, the other girls' dresses, even just the blades of grass beneath her feet.

"Rhen!" And there was her ma – she always somehow managed to find Rhen even when she didn't want to be found. "Isn't the maypole lovely this year?"

It was lovely – it was decorated with the marionbells that Rhen and the other children gathered, the petals bright and vibrant even among the maypole's ribbons. Before Rhen could even open her mouth to agree, the mayor approached them with a glint in his eye.

"Say, where is that strange woman your pa brought into town?" he asked, clearly fishing for information. "We're all so eager to know more about her."

Of course, the mayor was also nosy... Then again, it wasn't every day that a strange new person with even stranger injuries showed up.

Rhen was quick to leave her mother's side, desperate to not get caught up in an adult conversation. She easily weaved through the crowd, giving a quick wave to everyone she passed. Despite not stopping at any of the games or booths, Rhen found herself bedecked in flowers, all in the form of crowns or necklaces or bracelets. She didn't mind it, though; she had always loved the spring equinox because of the flowers. The bright, cheerful mood that the festival brought just made them seem even prettier.

"Psst! Rhen!"

Rhen peered over the edge of the cliff at the sound of her name, managing to see Peter's notable red hair even from all the way up here. "Peter, what are you doing?" she called out as she headed down the village's stone stairs, already sounding exasperated.

"Me and Jenna are going to go chase Billy Harper's sheep!" Peter explained, ignoring Rhen's exasperation. "Want to come?"

Rhen hesitated for a moment. Her parents would be worried if they noticed she was gone... But she ran off with Peter fairly regularly – they would likely assume she was with him if she wasn't around.

"Well... okay," she agreed, rolling her eyes at how Peter visibly lit up.

"Great! Meet us outside the village by the old sheep pen in half a mark. Bye!" Peter darted off into the cave before Rhen could even respond again.

Rhen quickly followed behind him, although in the low light of the cave, it was hard to see if Peter was still ahead of her. She couldn't see more than a few feet ahead of her, and it wasn't until she was nose-to-nose with them that she even realized someone else was in the cave – and it most definitely not Peter.

"Oh! Good morning, sir," Rhen said brightly, stepping back a little to give them both some breathing room. She couldn't see much of the man in the dark, but she could see enough to tell he wasn't from around here. "Are you looking for the village?"

"Yes, is it far from here?" The man's voice was as rough-hewn as the rock walls enclosing them, but it was strangely enchanting.

"Not far at all. It's just up that way." Rhen pointed toward the cave entrance, which was only a small patch of sunlight from here. The priestess's ring sparkled eerily in the darkness, catching the flames of the torches in its small gem.

"That's a lovely ring you're wearing there," the man commented, his eyes lingering on her hand just a second too long.

Rhen quickly put her hand in her pocket, for some reason feeling embarrassed that he noticed it. The priestess had been so urgent when she asked Rhen to wear it that it felt like something precious. Like it was a special secret between them.

"Say, for being such a kind dear, I would love to give you a gift," the man added, shifting the bag on his shoulder.

"Wow! Anything? Are you sure?" Despite her better judgement, Rhen couldn't help but let her curiosity get the better of her; she probably shouldn't trust a random stranger in a cave, but he didn't seem to be all that bad. In fact, he seemed perfectly nice. Peter must have passed him, and if it were a problem, then surely Peter would have run back to warn Rhen.

"For one more look at that beautiful ring, you can have anything." The man's eyes glinted in the darkness, the flames dancing in his eyes.

Rhen wavered, unsure at first; it was just a ring, so there couldn't be any harm in showing it to someone, could there? And the priestess had said it would protect her... If she wasn't allowed to tell anybody about the ring, then the priestess would have mentioned it, right?

"If it means that much to you..." she said reluctantly, pulling her hand out of her pocket to show off the ring again.

The man stared at the ring almost greedily, his mouth widening in a grin. "Yes, that is a beauty," he remarked, his voice echoing in the cavern. "Wouldn't want to lose that."

Quick as a whip, he grabbed Rhen by the arm, slapping a thick metal bracelet on her wrist. His grip on her didn't loosen even as Rhen screamed, twisting around in an attempt to get away.

"Let me go!" Rhen shrieked, hoping that someone – anyone – would hear her. Peter had to still be nearby; he had to be coming back to see what was taking her so long. "Peter! Peter—!"

"Don't play games with me, priestess," the man growled, his friendly demeanor dissipating. "I know who you are. My master sends his regards."

In one swift move, he pulled the burlap sack over her head, unceremoniously throwing it over his shoulder.

"I'm not a priestess! Who are you?!" Rhen demanded, her voice high with desperation as she thrashed around in the bag, trying to wrench it from the man's grip.

The man clicked his tongue at her mockingly, the sound muffled through the fabric. "I'm a slave trader, girl. You can't fool me. I know a priestess's ring when I see one. And don't think of trying any magic tricks, either – your powers will be useless with that bracelet on."

The ring... For a split second, Rhen felt nothing but anger. Had the priestess just passed her ring off so somebody else could be captured instead? Had she picked Rhen because she was the only one naïve enough to believe what the priestess told her?

Her breathing grew shallow as panic and fear overtook her, spots appearing in her vision as her already limited oxygen lessened even further. Where was Peter? Her ma and pa? The priestess, even? She had seemed so urgent about Rhen wearing the ring that surely, she would be able to sense if something happened to it. Hadn't anybody noticed she was gone?

Against her better judgement, Rhen began to weep, the stale air of the bag providing no relief to the ragged breaths she drew. All of her energy sapped out of her, leaving her with nothing but what felt like a bone-deep weariness, sending her off to unconsciousness...