Copyright © 2016 Nicole L.D.
(ADreamingReality)

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. All chapters of this book are copyrighted. Unauthorized copying, republishing, storing, broadcasting, distribution, manipulation or selling of this work without written permission from the author constitutes as an infringement of copyright. Any infringement of this copyright is punishable by law. Any links, brand names, or otherwise copyrighted material is not my own, and is not covered by my copyright.

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Chapter 1
A Taste Of Black

_______________________
"We all have two sides. The ones we let people see and the ones we don't."

"CONCENTRATE, DEARIE. THE MAGIC won't come if you cannot call upon it."

I bit the tip of my tongue, fighting off an infectious smile as it teased the corners of my lips.

In my hands laid a gathering of herbs, freshly plucked from the forest floor. Grass tickled the bare flesh of my arms where my raggedy dress failed to conceal the skin. After kneeling down on the moist earth for so long, a conspicuous amount of dirt had plastered itself to my legs and arms, my dress coated in a layer of brown filth and tinged green at the edges by moss. The dirt was everywhere — in my hair, on my face, but it was worth it.

Every bit of it.

Finally, after months of benign practice, I was getting my first real taste of magic.

"Blimey, put your tongue back in your mouth. And sit up straight — what, were you schooled by trolls? I didn't raise a slob."

A frail hand knocked against the back of my head, rather hard, causing me to snort out an unladylike grunt.

"Aye! Madame Reece, what are you —?"

"Bloody hell, perhaps we should have worked on etiquette first." A hand clapped the top of my head, patting the twist of braids harshly, "You are a lady. La-dy. Can you understand what that means? Grievances, this will not do." She sighed operatically, shuffling around in the grass behind me. "I've raised a slob."

My lip caught between my teeth as I tried to stifle a laugh.

It was a futile attempt, and soon spilled out anyways. "I know what a lady is. That's irrelevant, and not the reason I'm sitting on the ground. The connection to magic is stronger on the Earth's floor, is it not?"

The woman stepped out from behind my kneeled form, crouching down so she was right in front of my face. The skirts of her dress ruffled, tangling with the long stalks of grass. Waggling a finger, she poked me in the forehead, tilting my head up to the baleful sky with a forceful finger.

"Indeed. How very perceptive of you, dearie. There may be hope for you yet."

Large trees stood ominously over us, cascading rays from the pink sun in all directions from the firmament. The shelter of branches was thick, concealing the purple hue of the clouds by magnificent pines that climbed and stretched up into the unknown. It was still in the early hours of the dawn, and the sun had yet to reach its peak. The hour wasn't ungodly, though the village would only just begin to awaken now.

It was a gorgeous morning.

Madame Reece tutted, pushing my face back with her hand. I sputtered as her forefinger grazed my teeth, and nearly fell onto my back. "So easily distracted. How do you expect to obtain the will of magic if you cannot concentrate?"

Still bemused with a sly grin morphed on my lips, I attempted to apologize without laughing, "Forgive me. I will try harder."

Letting out a loud humph, Madame Reece patted the side of my cheek astutely and backed off. Eyes wielding years of experience drifted into the unknown above my head, her expression wrinkling at the edges as a frown etched its way across her lips. She seemed distracted today. Not that it was an unusual occasion. Madame Reece was strange, definitely different than most of the wielders I'd come across in the past. But she flourished when it came to magic.

She had the makings of a gypsy; dressed in elegant soft silk that swayed around her hips, decorated by floral. Her hair was wicked, dishevelled and pulled up by pins. Wild strands fought, whisked around the edges of her face. The mass of her hair was twisted in an unkempt bun atop her head, veiled by the vibrant silver scarf that clung to the skin of her neck. Her hands were concealed by long black gloves that settled just below the elbow, with a center that wrapped around her middle finger. Atop the fabric laid a bracelet, matching on either wrist. It was engraved by strange markings -- no doubt some superfluous addition from her ability to possess magic.

Alongside the unusual attire, she possessed the most estranged physique I'd ever seen on a woman.

While her hair was golden, contrasting beautifully with the dark tan of her skin, her eyes were anomalous. One blue, one gold. Both equally as entrancing as the other, but the difference in colour remained utterly mystifying to peering eyes. Eyes such as my own. She'd taken me in long after the abhors of my past landed me isolated, driven to social suicide. While she remained a lady, the features of her face were constructed as a man's, strong and calloused. Her nose was just a little too large, her lips a little too thin, her jaw sharp and moulded by strong cheekbones.

Madame Reece was an oddity.

That was just one of the many reasons I continued to assist her.

Catching me off guard, her hand whacked my braids once again. "Aye! You're but a child with that concentration. Where is your stance?" she sucked in a breath, puffing out her chest. "Magic does not grace those who slack," she waved a hand over my form. "In your case, slouch."

I quirked an eyebrow, resisting the urge to rub the back of my now throbbing skull, "I didn't realize magic could sense whether or not I acted like a lady."

Madame Reece was before me in a second, a small blade of grass dancing between her fingertips. "You see?" Her voice dropped an octave, just short of a whisper, "Magic is the sense. Everything," she gestured around us, "everything is connected. Even the simplest of grasses makes for an animal's best meal. Connection is a prevalent part of life. You," she bopped my nose with her forefinger, "You, dearie, must adhere to the connection and not to your stubborn denial."

"Denial? Madame, I am most open —!"

"To the idea of magic!" She shot to her feet with a maniacal laugh, kicking her toes up. Whirling around once, she snapped a finger at me, "You, dearie, are open to what the mind can see. Your experience with magic remains limited, because you make it limited. Your gift makes you keener than others, but not so keen that you may skip the basics and move straight into the advanced."

Huffing out a breath, I leaned back on my heels, ignoring the present numbness caressing the muscle around my knees, "Alright, what do you propose I do?"

Madame Reece smiled a mouthful of yellowed teeth, and placed the blade of grass into my hand. "Will it."

I blinked. And then blinked again, "Will it? It's a blade of grass."

Rolling her eyes, she slapped my cheeks. I yelped and she agonizingly carried on, "Oy vey, your stubbornness proceeds you. Imagination! Perception! What of this will I speak of, you make your own."

My eyes drifted skeptically to the blade of grass now resting alongside the other herbs. "Do you want me to put the other herbs aside? Or ... ?"

Madame Reece's head hit her chest, exasperation oozing from her pores. "Grievances, who raised you? Where is the confidence, le feu? Magic does not come to those who cannot find it within themselves to answer their own questions. Compel! Find the essence, and compel it! You needn't lose the herbs, once you obtain the strain, you can compel the grass to move and segregate."

"Alright," I said, ignoring her berate, and instead focused my attention on the small blade of grass.

It was nothing special. A small, green strand of earth. But I could make it special. And that's exactly what I was going to do.

Concentrating, I allowed one of my fingers to drift over the small life, caressing the grass so the roughness rolled with my finger. With the contact, the blade began to twitch, almost eagerly as though it were reaching, searching. My finger waggled above it, and I concentrated harder, envisioning the blade twirling up and wrapping around my skin, coating the flesh in a small layer of green.

The grass twitched again, not obeying the command, but slowly I felt the presence of magic emerge along the hairs of my arms, standing them on end. A small flutter of green mist flourished from the edges of the blade, warming the tips of my fingers. My breathing hitched as the magic's heavy presence washed over the atmosphere.

"Yes, yes. Very good, dearie. The magic resides within you now. If you wish to use magic of your own free will, you must become one within the connection. Ask for its assistance, command it, empower it. You are the master of your own ambitions."

A bead of sweat slowly trailed down the skin of my forehead, dripping onto my nose. I clenched my jaw as heat seared the hands containing the herbs. The once small green swirl evolved into a giant flood of mist, coursing over and around the other herbs, shrouding the ingredients in a mystical veil.

In the same moment, a powerful presence came to the back of my mind, pushing forward as soft as a whisper. I tried to brush it off, turning my head slightly to the side, but it only intensified the whispers into a steady hum. Desperately trying to ignore it, I let my concentration over the herbs slip if only for a moment.

It was enough for the explosion.

Like a switch, my control over the magic snapped as it flooded through my veins, and suddenly everything went blurry.

The world tilted, shifting on its axis, and darkened to a blue hue that settled against a midnight sky. My heart skipped a beat as the world warped and transformed around me, distorting my reality. I was lost in a figment of my imagination, pulled straight into my subconscious without so much as a warning.

A small wince overcame my panicked expression as voices howled, screeching in a language I could not comprehend. The hum intensified, blasting through my veins fast enough to induce trembling through my arms and legs. Though none of it was verbal.

They screamed, they scorned, all begging for attention, crooning in the depths of my mind. In the middle of it all sat the magic; tendrils of its green essence warping around my reality, allowing the control of my gift to slip through the cracks.

A searing pain singed with my vision, igniting a fury of pounding throbs in my head. I cried out, my hands tightly entwined, and desperately fought to find the will to control what the magic had initiated.

"Breathe, dearie." A voice rose above all others, a calm amongst the storm. "They only wish to be heard, do not let them frighten you. Will the voices to recede. Do not fight them."

I grit my teeth tightly, and tried as she'd said. Thin lines swarmed in my vision, and I groped at the strings, tugging and strumming them. Certain ones quieted the voices, while others intensified the pitch. After concentrating harder, and pushing through the pain, I had almost shoved all of the voices back.

Save one.

" ... Destruction. Be .... the evil. Des ... destruct - !" The voice curdled suddenly, and I screamed alongside it.

My ears began to ring, an unsettling warmth pitting in my stomach, and then she appeared. I gasped in a breath of air greedily as the pressure released, blinking up at the distraught woman before me.

Her eyes were sullen, sunken in the beds of her eye sockets. Abnormally, she was dressed in nothing but leaves, the thick fronds curling around her hips and chest, concealing the vulnerability of her flesh. Skin white as snow glistened as she shimmered, darting in and out of time. The black hair atop her head tumbled over her shoulders in shambles, unevenly distributed with broken ends. My mouth dried, tongue roughly grating across the top of my mouth, flavoured with the metallic taste of blood.

The woman's apparatus flickered, and then she was suddenly right in front of me, half of her jaw unhinged. It was like a mirage had overtaken her body. The normalcy she'd possessed upon first sight disintegrated, and in its place appeared a corpse. Wicked bones protruded from her rotted flesh, the colour of her skin tinged an inhumane black. Her face was rotted with the black mold, dangling pieces of flesh hanging off of her hallowed cheekbones. Every inch of her body had decayed, leaving a zombie-like creature behind.

"Des ... Desdesdesdesdes," she screeched, and then her head slumped against her chest, "He-ee desdesdes," she never finished, and instead let out another ear shattering howl.

My heart was lodged firmly in my throat. I swallowed thickly as she enclosed the remaining space between us, and then winced as she released a low hiss that pierced my eardrums. At the pitch, it felt like the entire world trembled, the ground shaking beneath my feet.

It was a trigger, and suddenly the tantalizing image of blood emerged in my head, twisted and blurred. The grotesque woman cocked her head to the side, mouth agape. Perilous black holes had engulfed her eyes, swallowing the life from them. The darkness swirling in them captivated my gaze, and I watched as she twitched, fingers crooking almost as though she were beckoning me, encouraging me to use my gift and peer closer. She'd somehow conjured the image up in my mind, the one I was desperately trying to push away. But why?

Out of fearsome curiosity, I focused on the image for a short moment, enabling myself to see the truth behind the blur.

I truly wish I hadn't.

A small scream caught in the back of my throat as it unveiled. A woman, with an uncanny resemblance to the apparition before me, was lying in a pool of her own blood, flesh marred and torn. It looked as though an animal had attacked, lines dragging through the skin of her flesh, a mess of intestines and organs spewing from a slit down the front of her stomach. As the image unveiled, a vile stench swam through my nose, as though I were actually standing there, in front of the corpse. My eyelids fluttered, and I directed my gaze away from the woman, a sinking dread pulling on my stomach. It was then I noticed the words painted with the dark crimson on the cobblestone, a few feet away from her body. The more I focused on the image, the easier it became to realize I'd been wrong. The blood was a shade too dark, painted a little too thick. It was black, oozing like pus through the crevices of the stone. I gagged as the smell intensified, an eerie chill rolling down my spine.

'You can't stop him.'

Tears formed in my eyes, and then the world flickered. At once, the image was thrown from my head, relieving a good amount of fear from my veins. The apparition angrily rose to her feet, darting in and out of time. She snarled, swiping at the thin air around my face. For a moment, I almost swore I felt the graze of her fingers.

But that was impossible. She wasn't real. This was all a figment of the magic in my head.

And I needed to find control.

With trembling hands, I allowed my fingers to dance across the herbs, grounding me.

"Come back ... will them away. Come back." A familiar voice called, and I put all my concentration into it.

The woman croaked, the sound raising gooseflesh across my arms, and then vanished. The world flashed a vibrant white, burning my unsuspecting eyes, and then I was jolted from my subconscious with a gasp.

Instantly, I dropped the herbs.

Madame Reece was settled on the ground right in front of me, gazing at me with eccentricity, "Welcome back, dearie." She patted my cheek. "And here I thought I was going to have to replace you."

She rose to her feet as I panted, shooting her an incredulous look, "What in the bloody hell was that?"

The Madame frivolously gathered the herbs I'd dropped in her hands, humming slightly, "Oh nothing to worry about, dearie. You see, when you called upon the magic you opened your mind to the unknown. It seems that in doing so, your powers also opened up. Essentially, you created a link between illusion and reality - a most impressive accomplishment, but one with consequence. Thus the voices had the chance to implode."

My head throbbed. "I shall add that to my list of side-effects."

Madame Reece shrugged, and then sniffed the herbs. "I think you've ruined these with that pungent odour of yours. Rather disgusting, dearie. Have a smell. You'll see what I mean."

I nearly snorted at the absurdity of her accusation, but shortly after I then caught wind of the smile in her voice. I'd done something to those herbs, and now she wanted me to see. Cautiously, I peered into her palm.

A strangled gasp tore from my throat.

The once flourished green herbs were no more, tainted in a sickly black substance that oozed and steamed. Where the black collided with green, the leaf perished, crisp and burnt. Wide-eyed, I glanced up to see Madame Reece was already peering at me. "I did that?"

"Most certainly. It seems you're more powerful than you think. Whatever you were envisioning, you conjured with your hands." She dropped the gunk, scrunching her nose, "Perhaps next time you shall conjure something a little less sticky? No? I haven't seen such a concoction before."

I had to work hard to keep the frustration from my voice, "I'll try to remember that the next time I'm fighting off an angry spirit."

"It would do you well to," she hummed, and then rose. "It seems your power proceeds you. In light of this, we have both made progress and lost it. Come, we must replace the poisoned herbs with fresh ones."

Rubbing the back of my head, my eyes drifted to the goop once again. "Is there a particular reason we must do so?" I immediately regretted speaking, as a whiny tone had laced my words. A small wince caught my lips, and I awaited anxiously for the Madame's reaction.

Surprisingly, she kept her tongue, "They are of importance, dearie. Here, I'd thought I had obtained your blind faith." Her eyes glittered.

I shot her a flat look, but proceeded to rise. "Very well. Lead the way, Madame."

A teasing smirk sat on her lips, and then almost giddily, the plump woman proceeded to take off at a sprint deeper into the forest. By sprint, I meant heated shuffle, where her legs barely lifted from the ground and her arms pumped maniacally. There was a reverberating swoosh-swoosh noise as she tore through the tall grass, hair bobbing with the movement. Regardless of her speed, she moved.

I blinked, gaping at her receding form.

Never had I seen her move so swiftly, or fast in all my days. In a heated attempt to chase after her, I scampered to my feet and stepped on the skirt of my dress, effectively tripping right off the bat. I crashed back down to the ground with a squeal, fighting away the stalks of grass. Dirt kicked up where my hands scuffed the forest floor, cheeks tinged embarrassingly red. By the devil, how had she gotten away so quickly? Pushing myself to my feet, shakily maintaining my balance, I attempted for the second time to chase after her.

By the time I reached the Madame, she was humming beside the creek, plucking herbs by the roots. My breathing was laboured as I tromped through a thicket, crashing down to the ground with sweat beading down my forehead, "Madame?" I wheezed.

She perked up, lifting her eyes. "Ah, dearie. Glad to see in your lacking fitness you were able to keep up."

I paused, opening my mouth, but then decided just not to comment with a huff, "Well, the next time you want to shoot off like a gazelle, perhaps you might warn me?"

"A gazelle?" The Madame spat, roughly standing to her feet, "Grievances, is this the imagination I will be dealing with from here on out? I was a cheetah, belle. Strong and fast, cunning and swift." She cocked an eyebrow at my disgruntled form, "Most unlike you. You are like a monkey."

I rolled my eyes, "That's —"

"A fat monkey." She went on, and I threw a branch in her direction. "Your posture is but non-existent. And by the crux, those arms are scraggly. You are like a man — a very poor, grungy man. No muscle, all flab." She sauntered forward and knocked a fist against my head.

"Well," I sneered, "This has escalated quickly."

Madame Reece cackled, "That is life, dearie. Now, quit sulking and help me retrieve the rest of my herbs."

Shaking my head in exasperation, I let out another raggedly low breath, "Very well. But don't think I'm going to forget your words so quickly. I'm thoroughly insulted."

She cracked a smile, eyes twinkling. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

For the next ten minutes, I joined her on the ground and helped her retrieve the herbs. Some of them were ones I didn't recognize, dark in the leaves, with long dangly roots. Madame Reece explained she was making preparations for the full moon, and that she'd been experimenting with some new spells. When I'd asked about their type, she hadn't answered.

Instead of unnerving myself with her words, I continued sweeping the forest floor, dragging my hands along the warm earth. It was only when the sun began to peek through the edges of the trees that I was pulled from my reveries.

"Hmm," Madame Reece mused out of the blue, rising to her feet, "Such strange thoughts for such an honest morning."

"Madame?" I queried and furrowed my eyebrows, tucking the last of my herbs into my palm.

Swiftly, she picked up her belongings; a small bag engraved with years of wear, and lent a hand down for assistance, "Come. The forest is uneasy. If you wish to further consort with magic, dearie, we must venture elsewhere."

I tucked a wild strand of dark hair behind my ear, shifting the herbs in my hand, "What of these?" I asked, referring to the contents in my palm.

She waved me off, distracted by the forest, "Place them in your pocket. They will be of use later."

"Is something wrong?"

Her gaze jerked up to meet mine, divergent eyes glittering with a certainty that had the crevices of my eyebrows deepening. "Not yet, dearie. Not yet."

Stifling the rest of my concerns, I stomached the sudden disappointment flooding through my veins. So close, yet so far. The day had been shortened, ruined by my obvious lack of control. Had I been able to retain the powers inside of me earlier, maybe I wouldn't have destroyed the herbs and a chance of actually accomplishing something with magic.

After all, magic was powerful.

That had been the first lesson Madame Reece taught, and I adhered well to it. I'd spent months, pertaining to a year, trying to develop the skill to assert myself in a position to work with the magic. Being in cohorts with a Wiccan made things easier; Madame Reece was an excellent teacher, and an even better wielder. I'd thought perhaps my accomplishments so far would be valued the same, which is why missing out on a chance to utilize the day hit home, and I suddenly felt miserable.

As though sensing my dejection, Madame Reece whirled around and placed a hand on my shoulder. It was comforting, and I forced a smile.

She grinned, bearing yellowed teeth, "Do not be disappointed, dearie. We have only just started the day. There is much potential left. You must have patience. And by the essence -- child! Straighten up. You slouch like a man. How do you expect to fraternize with magic when you can't even hold yourself properly, aye? I've certainly raised a slob."

A boisterous laugh escaped my lips. The woman quirked an eyebrow, releasing my shoulder.

"You even laugh as a man." She scolded, rapping her knuckle against the side of my hand. "We best attend to that later. Can't have my star prodigy mistaken for a knight, now can I?"

"Prodigy?" I asked, sobering from the laughter.

"Aye," she said, lips twitching up, "and a good one at that."

Warmed by her words, I smiled when she sharply turned on her heel and began to stalk from the forest. I followed pursuit, tucking the herbs gingerly into my pockets before following along.

A hopeful anticipation curled in my stomach as we stumbled our way out of the forest. The sun peaked up from the horizon, gracing Ayrith with its orange beauty. The hue of the clouds shifted from pink and purple to a glowing white, fluffing up into the sky. It was a warm day, not nearly as warm as the last, but the sun's heat tickled the hairs of my arms regardless.

The Madame's eyebrows were drawn together as she sauntered, hands firmly clasped in front of her. The change in her demeanor hadn't escaped me, but I was too much of a coward to voice my opinion anyway. She felt something was off, that was reason enough for me. Still, the longer we went on side-by-side, the more her anxiousness rubbed off on me.

At one point, the pressure had just became enough to rattle my nerves, pinpricks of unease pinching the back of my neck. That was when I caught it in my peripheral vision.

A flicker, the smallest of shadows, zipping past a thicket just a few feet to our right.

My foot snagged on a root, and I stumbled in surprise, coming to a halt altogether. The Madame's wild eyes diverted over to me, the smallest of upticks pulling at her lips. "Blimey, dearie. Learn where your toes are, no?"

I ignored her, fixating my gaze where I'd just noticed the shadow. "I saw something," I mumbled, almost dazedly.

This piqued her interest, and the Madame followed my gaze. "Saw something you say? Perhaps it was a matter of imagination. You are still shaken from the magic; it isn't all that uncommon for its effects to linger."

Disdainfully, I tried to keep the scowl off my face. "I am not hallucinating. I saw someone, straight North in that thicket." I directed her gaze with a pointing finger. "You know I wouldn't kid. Ask yourself Madame, who would be out here at this time, aside from us?"

Accounting the seriousness in my voice, the Madame hummed, and then gave a short maniacal laugh, "As you say, dearie. Let's have a look and see just who's ventured out this far then, shall we?" She was still mocking me, but I was grateful she had at least acknowledged my concern.

"Yes," I breathed in relief, "please."

The Madame hummed as she sashayed away, swishing her hips to the melody. My hands fell to my pocket where the herbs were sitting, and I let out a short breath before trekking after her. There was a difference between illusion and reality; whatever I'd seen wasn't an apparition. I had seen something, even if it wasn't a person that didn't mean it was any less unnerving. Even the smallest of shadows could be the biggest of threats.

Madame Reece and I had barely descended on the location when the sound of a twig snapping ricocheted through the air. At once, the teasing grin on the Madame's lips dissipated, and she stood upright with squared shoulders. Soon after, her lips were moving, no doubt in summons of a spell she had grown to remember by heart. I waited patiently as she spoke, scanning the lines of the trees. There was nothing in sight, but sometimes the eyes were easy to deceive.

"Can you sense anything?" my voice was nothing above a whisper, gingerly floating on the wind.

She finished her sentence and then said, "The forest is uneasy, the birds are worrisome. Come, dearie. Whatever is out here, we do not want to meddle with its affairs. Allow nature to handle its own problems. We are merely peacekeepers of the balance, not protectors of it."

The grievousness in her tone had a thick wad of bile sliding down the back of my throat in an unattractive gulp. My eyes scanned the premises of the area once again, searching for any indication of life. But there was only the sweetest of sounds: delicate birds chirping away melodically in the trees. It was as though there was nothing wrong at all.

That was probably the most unnerving revelation yet.

"Okay," my voice had dried up of its usual enthusiasm, bleak in my own ears. Sensing this, I cleared it, "Let's be going, then."

"Yes," she crooned, gazing up the tree in front of her, "We have much to finish yet. There is still potential for an ambitious day."

By now her words were just another melodic background noise in my ears. Instead, my attention was solely focused on that thicket. Nobody came into the forest -- not aside from us. It was forbidden, a rule seldom threatened to break. They saw danger, and naturally steered clear.

I knew otherwise. The forest was merely another flowing part of our home, but I could only lead the people to the woods. Whether or not they saw its beauty was entirely up to them.

Without a word, Madame Reece twirled on her heel and resumed her advance towards the village. I spared the thicket one final look, scratching the skin on the back of my neck out of nervousness, before trailing after her.

The village awakened with the rising sun, and as I joined side-by-side with Madame Reece, the usual sounds of life had flittered into the atmosphere. As we emerged from the forest, we were welcomed to the usual early morning business of the village. The markets were opened, kids were ushered from their homes and sent to their tutors. The usual call of work pulled the men from their beds, while the women prepared for another fruitful day.

My eyes drifted lustfully to the other villagers, admiring how easy it was for them to slip into their morning routines. They didn't have to worry about exposure, the voices. All they had to do was begin their work, and live yet another satisfying day. I barely had enough coin to keep alive. They would never understand how lucky they were.

"You think such seldom thoughts, dearie. Try not to envy the life others live, but instead appreciate all that they do. A lifetime of acceptance is far better than a lifetime full of envy. You can only be happy when you are happy with yourself." Madame Reece consoled, giving me a warm gaze.

I briefly stared into those anomalous eyes, and then let out a small sigh, "Aye. That does not prevent me from wishing I could be like them."

"Why would you? You are unique in yourself, dearie. Best not to underestimate your own potential in light of others. You may come to find even you can surprise yourself."

"I doubt it," I grumbled under my breath, fully well knowing I would never fit in.

Her feet crunched against stray rocks on the pavement as we joined with the rest of the people, carrying her swiftly and suavely across the village. I knew where we were going; back to her cavern. So I remained silent, allowing the amity of the village envelop the air between us instead. My mind was rushing.

Not only had I totally blown my chances at getting a handle on my powers, but I'd also landed myself in a foul mood. This sucked, royally. Nothing the Madame had to say would be changing my attitude. I'd patiently counted down the days up until now, and it had all been for nothing. I blew it. Worse yet, I'd allowed the voices to gain control. That was something that never came without a consequence.

We were just breaching the premises of her home when suddenly a loud thunder captured both of our attentions.

Madame Reece froze, "Impossible."

I turned my gaze to her, panic evident in my eyes, "What is it? What's happened?"

She titled her gaze up, golden eye glittering with malevolence. "It is too early. Time is of the essence. They should not have come this early. I do not make mistakes; not when time is so precious. It's impossible."

The thundering got louder, and I whirled around, heartbeat pounding alongside it.

It seemed we weren't the only ones who'd caught wind of the commotion. The streets were suddenly filled, curious eyes glancing around as the noise ascended into Ayrith. A few panicked women had began to screech, rushing away to find their families. Others straightened, shifting their gazes towards the entrance of the village.

"What is it?" I queried, and frowned when suddenly it no longer sounded like thunder.

No, rather it was the reverberating clap of hooves meeting the ground. An unmistakable rhythm that thrummed diligently against the earth. Horses galloping. That could only mean one thing, and I felt the pit of my stomach sink with dread.

"The King," Madam Reece spat, anger lacing her fervent irises.

"The King?" I echoed, warily turning my attention to the entrance as well.

"Yes, you know what this means. Now is not the time for you to stand out. You cannot be seen with me, not in their presence. Don't give me that look dearie, wipe that frown away." I complied, and she gripped onto my shoulder. "It seems plans have changed. No longer is the day mine own. Magic must wait. You may consider this a new lesson: good things come to those with patience. It seems you will just have to wait a day longer."

"You're serious?" I couldn't help the woebegone feeling that drained the emotion from my chest. She hadn't hit me physically, but those words were a mental blow.

I was angry with myself, guilty that I'd ruined the Madame's morning, and upset that this day hadn't panned out at all according to plan. Wait another day? How many times had I heard that before? One day turned into two, which turned into three. Suddenly, a whole month had flashed before my eyes, and I was still waiting. Disappointment surged through my veins, and my hands curled discretely into fists.

"Aye," she deadpanned, and I turned my eyes away with disdain. "Go now, dearie. I cannot associate with them, but I think you will want to be around for this rendezvous with fate."

"Pardon?"

Now I was genuinely confused.

However, when I peered back at Madame Reece, I found that I'd only spoken to myself.

She was gone. Vanished. The sneaky woman had used her magic in the split second I'd looked away. Now I was left alone, without answers, on the verge of a breakdown. A frown etched its way across my lips, and I aggressively tugged a hand through my hair. Now what was I supposed to do?

Like answering a prayer, a voice called out and startled me.

"Khalise! Khalise — is that you?"

Blinking in surprise, I turned to see a familiar face jogging in my direction.

"Jaymes?" I asked, bewildered.

Immediately my shoulders tensed up, and I shuffled awkwardly against the cobblestone. What on earth was he doing out here?

"Aye," he came to a halt in front of me, short of breath. With a laugh he drew me in for a hug, "You're a sight for sore eyes, Lise. Where you been hiding out? You never showed up at the tavern this week."

While his arms wrapped firmly around my waist, I remained stiff as a board. Jaymes was probably the only friend I'd gained over the years, but we were completely different. He had his life, and I had mine. It had been a week since I'd last seen him. "Oh, I've been about. It's strange to see you wandering the streets. I didn't think they could pull you away from the food."

Jaymes grinned, dimples forming against his charcoal skin. "It's a rare occasion. Actually, that's just what I came to find you about. Come on, you're going to want to see this."

Before I could protest, or so much as mutter under my breath, his hand was tightly wound around my wrist as he dragged me away, towards a thick gathering of people.

I opened my mouth several times to protest, gathering my skirts with my free hand. What was the thinking? Surely he had to have known by now I was awful in crowds, and not exactly the most respected lady on the streets. My heels dug into the ground in a feeble attempt to get my friend to stop, but it was useless. Jaymes' persistence left me breathless, and kept my feet in motion. He trudged along, dragging my weight behind him, and asserted us into a crowd of fellow commoners. Though he didn't stop there.

"Jaymes, what has gotten into you? Please, slow down." My breathing was ragged, as were the ends of my dress. In fact, I was sure every inch of my body was unkempt at this point. Between running and digging in the dirt, I probably resembled something like a troll.

"Just trust me. You won't believe it."

I opened my mouth to protest when he suddenly jerked me forward. A crowd had gathered in the center of the road into the village, eagerly peering out into the unknown. Jaymes kept a firm hand on my arm and pulled me through the horde of bodies, weaving around and past others. A few of the women peered down at me, immeadiately scrunching up their noses in disgust. I could hardly blame them. My face was coated in dirt, my dress was stained green and I was nearly a thousand percent certain my accidental running into people was not helping my case whatsoever. Anxiety hit me with a wave, and as we went by more and more people, the more and more I felt myself heat up. My cheeks flared red in embarrassment, palms itchy with sweat. If his hold on me wasn't so tight, I'd have abandoned him in the crowd and escaped the heat. Stares singed the hairs on the back of my neck, and I swallowed pitifully.

Jaymes didn't even spare me a second glance, and continued tugging me forward.

By the time we had emerged to the front of the crowd, I'd lost it. Sweat dripped from the back of my neck down to my legs, my forehead creased with angst. When Jaymes released my hand, I clenched it as I trembled, suddenly nauseous. It was in my apprehension that my powers spurted to life. The caress of whispers tickling my ears, a familiar cooing of voices swimming in my head. A searing flare of heat caused an itch to form at the back of my neck, and I winced. Not now. I rubbed my arms, on the verge of tears. Please not now — not in front of all these people.

Jaymes was oblivious to my sudden vexation. His eyes peered at the empty road ahead of us, where the clamorous thunder of hooves had become increasingly louder. A dull ache formed in the back of my head, and suddenly the world became a bleary blob of uncertainty. My vision stuttered, a ba-dum motion that harmonized with my heartbeat, and then an explosion of pain pulsated in my head.

All noise dissipated into the background, settling itself amongst my incoherent insanity. I winced as the heat flaring at the back of my neck increased, a dull ache coursing it's way up my spine. Every part of my body began to twinge, trying to fight off what came next. I gasped as everything slowed, the world coming to a nearly complete standstill. When I blinked, I was alone, lost in my own world.

"Khalise."

My eyes flickered, but everyone around me was distant, enveloped in their own time. Even Jaymes had frozen with the rest of the people, chiseled face adverted down the paved path before him. When I spared a glance around, everyone else had enveloped the same expression as him. They were bleak and emotionless, like a bunch of puppets controlled by strings. I gave a pained sigh, knowing fully well there was no turning back there. The Madame wasn't around to pull me from my subconscious this time. I was entirely at risk, exposed in front of dozens of people all because of my own foolishness.

I bit down on my lip hard enough to draw blood as another wave of heat consumed me, muffling a cry of pain. This was my consequence for slipping up earlier. My walls were broken, and the bonds of my powers hadn't been fortified. This was happening, whether I liked it or not.

"Khalise. Khalise. Khalise."

I would never be able to push them away. With that realization, I decided not to try and abolish them and instead focused on embracing them. A flicker of a shadow danced in my peripheral, and I gave a low breath. The volume of the voices increased as I opened myself up, allowing my power to flow freely through my veins. Almost immediately the pounding in my head receded, and I was left standing in front of a few drifting wisps.

The balls of light chirped melodically, almost like a giggle, and darted around the area. One landed on Jaymes, blowing a cloud of white into his face before darting off. The spirits weren't fully developed, but I had a feeling that had nothing to do with force. They wanted me to see them this way, and while I was thankful for the lack of gore, having them buzz around my head was just as unnerving.

Bile rose in the back of my throat, and I hissed, "Enough of this apparition. What is it you want?"

Madame Reece had said my connection to magic was strong, bound by heart rather than desires. This ability to hear the voices of the dead was an ability only I seemed to possess. While she knew nothing of its power, the pendant settled against the skin of my neck was meant to ward off any unwanted attacks. But I had weakened the shields.

No amount of protection could keep the voices at bay with my weakness.

"He is coming. The rise of vengeance, the wrath of a tyrant — he seeks opposition. He seeks a soul; purity of life. He wishes to corrupt it."

A hot blast of pain caused me to cry out, and I dropped to my knees. Pants of breath escaped my mouth as the commodity of their voices became overbearing. My powers unfurled to their full extent, and the wisps developed into people, tall faceless woman that trekked forward in front of me. With a giggle, they began to draw with their hands, tracing a rune I didn't recognize with a trail of glittering gold dancing from their fingertips.

"Khalise sees all. Khalise hears all. Khalise must stop all, before this all is lost."

Another wave of pain struck me in the chest, and low breath of air seethed from my lips with the impact.

"Stop it," I hissed, clenching a hand over my ears. "Begone!"

"Khalise sees what she wishes. Listens to only that of which can be seen. Khalise must listen. Listen! Khalise must listen to all, alas all will be lost."

Frustration and fear mingled in my veins, tainting my eyes with trepidition. The apparations giggled, long snow white hair dancing through time as they sauntered forward, cirling around me. Almost teasingly, the woman reached out and grazed the skin of my clothing, hands passing through when they'd tread too close. While I couldn't physically feel them, sight was more than enough. The ghastly white of their arms had my throat bobbing up and down. I wanted them gone.

But how was I supposed to get rid of them?

"Khalise." They sang, the tune piercing my eardrums, "Run, run, run she runs away. Run, run, run she can't escape. Khalise has a promise — she must not leave. Listen! She must believe. The beast will come, the trees will cry. If Khalise won't listen, then she will die."

"Shut up!" I screamed, but they only continued to operatically hum, long strands of their white hair blowing with an illusory breeze. One of them cocked their head towards me, and for the briefest of moments humane features protruded through her flesh. A pair of lips came first, belching out a high pitched sound into the atmosphere as she continued to sing. Then came two eyes, sharply toned the by the hue of ice, they bore into my soul. As the woman continued to sing the ice pulsated, vibrant and bright, and then faded nothing as the illusion faded back into the blank canvas of skin. Somehow, my hands found their way to the pendant hanging loosely around my neck. The second my fingers grazed the cool silver, a flash of white captured my vision, and then diminished into the oblivion.

Time resumed, and I crumpled further to the ground.

"Lise!" Warm hands gripped my shoulders, pulling me back to my feet. "Are you okay? What's wrong? Khalise — you're bleeding."

Jaymes' concerned brown irises bore into mine, and I winced. Gently, his finger grazed the flesh under my nose, coming away with red staining his skin.

"It's okay," I said unconvincingly, but I was still trying to wrap my head around what'd just happened, what I'd heard, "I'm well."

Jaymes opened his mouth to oppose, but was swiftly cut off when a mass of black hooves stormed into Ayrith's grounds.

The road swarmed with their presence, hooves clattering boisterously against the pavement. I rose back to my feet, wiping the remaining blood away, and fixated my gaze on the black knights as they ascended into sight. A bubble of uneasiness rose to the back of my throat, and I swallowed down a rock.

The morning certainly hadn't panned out how I'd expected. I wiped the blood away from my lips.

"Citizens of Ayrith!" A booming voice knocked me from my conscience, captivating my complete attention, "The King wishes to deliver a message to all. The war is not over. It has only begun. And in its wake, new laws shall be established. The time for change is now, and his royal majesty has ensured that all followers of the crown shall be protected in this dark time of despair. He wishes for a future as bright as the burning sun, and grants hope to all following his rule. That being said, I'd like your attention as I give way to his next requests."

The knight dismounted from his steed, armoured in black. He was taller than I'd originally thought, equipped with a long sword sheathed at his side and a pair of steel toed boots. His armour was metallic, refracting the light off his chest. Mesh chains hung protectively where the armour failed to conceal the skin, adding another protective layer. On the chest, the royal crest was engraved. Metal clanged with metal as he stepped forward, retrieving a scroll from his black trousers.

My eyes lifted from his form, and instead focused on the sweated black stallions behind him. Their nostrils flared, hooves clattering as the excitement and anticipation remained thick, coursing through their blood. Massive muscles bulged in all directions, as the horses carried their riders, clad in armour and protected by swords.

The voices warned of someone coming. How was I to differentiate this someone from the others, when they appeared the same, all at once?

My nerves played like a fiddle, and I took a precarious step back. Jaymes touched my hand, a sign of comfort, but I rejected his consolation and instead placed it into my pocket. A momentary expression of hurt passed over his features, before he settled his gaze back on the entourage in front of him. I blinked in surprise when my hand fell upon the herbs, and immediately I tensed.

Magic was powerful. An entity of life that flowed in the roots of all beings, and grew along the mossy earth of the forest floor. However, no matter how enchanting it could be, magic also posed to be a large threat — especially to those incapable of wielding its potential. Magic was dangerous.

Magic was forbidden.

Getting caught up in sorcery was something I couldn't begin to fathom. Witchcraft was not to be taken lightly around here, and they would burn my head at the stake if they knew just what I had been doing this morning. I was already deviant enough from them. The addition of magic would be all the persistence they needed to behead me. And if the sinking feeling in my stomach was right, I was willing to bet that after today, those herbs in my pocket were enough evidence to have me detained without trial. Or worse, killed on sight.

The breath caught in the back of my throat, and I swallowed thickly.

"This new world rising is a world of darkness. The King needs absolute certainty that his followers remain loyal, and that any signs of treason be dealt with immediately. Anyone obtaining information about conspiracies against his majesty, the location of rebels and Sohrants," a collective of whispers formed at that, "and any signs of witchcraft will be rewarded. The accused will be dealt with swiftly, in public, as a reminder that those who fail to follow his majesty are those unworthy of living. All hail his majesty, King Carver XII, and may his reign over our land remain forever prosperous!"

"Hail the king!" A chorus of voices agreed, save one.

I remained vigilant, hands clenched tightly around the herbs in my pocket. These people, they knew nothing. Magic wasn't to be feared, or rebelled. It was to be embraced. The monarchy had painted an ugly picture of death over any Wiccan's head, and by doing so the practice of magic was seen strictly as a bad omen. In this world, it was too much of a risk not to destroy it. There was already so much misfortune, why would the people subject themselves to more?

They didn't know any better.

Titling my head up, I clenched my jaw. This was going to make my new found practice with magic a lot more difficult. Wealth drove people to do perilous things. Ayrith was no exception.

The knight rolled up the scroll in his hands, iron helmet concealing his identity. Without so much as a nod at the people, he mounted his horse once again. I prepared to leave, to head straight back to Madame Reece's, when suddenly his voice rang out and jolted my skin.

"Due to the King's request, some of his most valiant knights are to remain in Ayrith. They shall henceforth deal with any commotions pertaining to the King's orders, and remain as an enforcement of his majesty's protection for the loyal. Hail the King! And may our lives, and his, remain forever prosperous!"

The citizens never got a chance to respond, for the second his speech was done, hooves kicked up dust. Horses spooked, rearing, bolting off in any direction as the excitement enthralled them, and trumpets blared.

Jaymes looked down at me, eyes glittering. "Well?"

"Well," I prompted, failing miserably to keep the strain out of my voice, "That's what you were so excited about?"

Jaymes grinned, and glanced down at the skirts of my dress. "Lise, you should know me by now. My surprises are far better than just the arrival of knights." He frowned. "Wait. Actually, that's exactly what this was about."

I rubbed my temples. "You've lost me, friend."

"Aye," he grunted, and then catching me off guard, his fingers curled around my chin, "Look, Khalise. At the knights that remain. Look at them."

For a second, he sounded so much like the apparitions from before that I flinched. Reality settled in, and I felt utterly pathetic. This was Jaymes, how is it even possible to confuse him with a spirit? Furrowing my eyebrows, I glanced out at the remaining knights. The armor concealing their identity caused them to seen identical in appearance.

With a glower, I returned my gaze to Jaymes. "What are you on about? I see them, yes. What of it?"

He looked frustrated. "What's wrong with you today? You're awfully snappy."

"Nothing," I answered evasively, a sudden pounding in my skull getting the best of my temper. It didn't help my nerves were shot, and I was afraid the herbs in my pocket would fall out and expose me for all to see, "I'm absolutely well."

With the clench of his jaw, he let me be, and instead changed the subject once again, "You really don't know, do you? I thought out of everyone, you'd be the first to hear."

"Alright, alright! Everyone back to their business. You're crowding the streets." One of the knights sauntered forward, beckoning at the people.

The crowd began to dissipate as I grew angry, "Stop with the guessing game. What in the name of Ayrith are you on about?"

Defeat flooded his irises, "You've changed. It's only been a week, but you've changed." No, I hadn't. I was merely frightened for my life. I very much just wanted to get off the streets. "He's back, Khalise."

That caught my attention, and I shifted my eyes back on him. "Who? Who's back?"

Could this be the person the voices warned me of?

Jaymes looked uneasy all of a sudden, and when I shifted my gaze back at the black knights I realized why.

One of them had removed the helmet upon their head, releasing a mop of silky brown hair. They lifted their gazes, and the breath caught in the back of my throat. A strong face met mine, definitely not the same one I'd said my goodbye's to a year ago. It was marred with scars, broken by war. Just seeing the flesh had my stomach curling, chest tightening as though someone had stabbed me straight through the heart.

Frosty green eyes bore into mine, but they were no longer familiar. They had been tainted by darkness, lucid vortexes of corruption. There was no warmth, only a steely black outlining the forest hue of the irises. I felt my jaw unhinge as the face that'd I'd memorized for years suddenly became unrecognizable.

I wasn't gazing into the eyes of my best friend, I was staring at the face of a stranger.

"I thought you knew," Jaymes said, seemingly sheepish, "I figured you'd want to see him. But I'm beginning to think I was wrong."

"You were," I couldn't keep the venom out of my voice as a certain black knight began sauntering in our direction, the picture of arrogance.

"Khalise, I'm sorry —"

"Don't." I hissed.

"Well, isn't this a surprise." A gruff, sultry voice inquired, stepping into my light.

My heart stuttered with old feelings, but I suffocated them, drowning them along with the rest of my past. He didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve to get a reaction out of me.

Not when he'd abandoned me just as everyone else had. My lips remained sealed, which earned a chuckle from the third party. Jaymes gave me one last look before he left me to the scoundrel, and evacuated the premises. I was so livid, I couldn't even spare him a glance back.

"Scared your friend off, I see. You haven't changed one bit, Khalise."

Forcing a wry smile onto my lips, I finally lifted my gaze up to his. His eyes were dark, tainted by mischief. If I had a mirror, I would guess that the reflection portrayed would be the same.

"Here, I'd hoped you'd perished in battle."

He quirked an eyebrow, his armor clanging as he shifted feet. "Is that any way to greet and old friend?"

Friend? This satanic spawn was no friend, he was a traitor. The betrayal of our past was still fresh in my heart, stinging with each passing second I was forced to gaze into that pompous face. I felt bipolar, my former anxiety of being lost in the crowd gone, replaced by steaming anger. I wanted to hit him, punch him, slap him — hurt him the same way he'd hurt me so long ago, but I couldn't. And I hated myself for it.

It was the second time today I'd shown weakness, but I wasn't about to let it extend to a third.

My hand was back in my pocket, clutching the herbs. I made sure to keep them firmly in my hand as I faced off at the knight before me, feeling my insides twist. This morning had been foggy, leaving me with uncertainties, but one thing was clear.

He was back. And that could only mean trouble.

"Gunter."