Eleona tapped her claw on the arm of her throne, specks of stone chipping as her nails dug. Her lips curled up in amusement, like a wolf watching a rabbit, the mirror moving as she watched the puny soldiers pulling on their armour, faces set in hard lines as they readied themselves for the battle. 

Waving her hand in the air, the mirror fizzled into her reflection, Eleona standing as her serpent slithered up her arm to rest around her neck, its face snuggling against the curve of her breast. 

"It has been a while since we've entertained so many guests," Eleona said, her snake hissing with delight. "Why, I believe we must prepare this palace for a grand ball." Snapping her fingers, Eleona's snake slithered into her hand, its red eyes glowing as its body grew warm, its once wriggling body hardening in her palm. Red eyes turned into red jewels as the snake soon became a staff, black scales glistening as she slammed its hilt on the ground, shadows emerging from the ground she had touched. 

"The throne room is rather lacking," Eleona thought to herself, raising her staff as energy surged through her arm. "Some soldiers would be nice. And maybe a little more light." The witch licked her lips as her staff hit the ground again, shadows leaping from the snake's ruby eyes. Old, worn skeletons of soldiers of past eons leaned against the walls, shadows seeking them as Eleona laughed. Bones rattled as the shadows infused them with new energy, the old skeletons groaning as they stood, their armour shaking on their bones. As the piles and piles of bones that were once still mounds in Eleona's throne room began to step in organised lines, fire flooded the walls as Eleona lit the sconces and dark chandeliers across the ceiling, revealing the true size of her large throne room. It housed an army of skeletons, Eleona nodding in satisfaction. 

"Much better," the witch cackled, stepping forward as her fleshless soldiers parted as she passed. "Now, where to next. Ah, the gardens. They haven't been tended to as of late. Maybe... some more statues? And some new hedges too." Shadows swirled as they encircled the old, decaying gargoyles that perched on the edges of the garden, their eyes glowing as they watched. The green hedges turned black as her shadows stained them, the animalistic shapes rustling as their teeth gnashed. 

"Dining room next, I suppose," Eleona mused to herself, gracefully skipping back inside her dark palace, sighing as she took in the decrepit state of her abandoned dining hall. Rotten food lay wasted across the large stone table in the centre, the rotted corpses sitting in the tall chairs oozing maggots. Tapping her staff against the edge of the dining table, the room was soon bathed in darkness as her dinner guests screeched, their bodies turning into dark, limbed forms that dripped with black goo, their eyes and mouths disappearing in a sea of black liquid. Where they dripped their demonic ooze, smoke rose, acid eating away at the stone chairs on which they sat. Frowning, Eleona watched as her creations melted the edges of the table and the plates upon it. 

"Well, I needed new tableware anyway," Eleona murmured to herself, before brightening. "My dearest prince needs a new set of clothes for this ball! Those rags of his shall not do." Eleona's step held an excited bounce as she descended the winding staircase to the lower depths of her castle, the air growing colder the further she walked. Doors opened by phantom hands, Eleona stepped into Keir's chambers, growling when she saw food scattered across the floor, the prince sitting slumped on the ground, cheeks stained with red tears. 

"What a mess you've made," Eleona scolded, voice cutting like ice as Keir looked up at her, one eye closed over the empty socket as the other one stared straight at her. "And you've lost your eye cover too. Now, now. You can't arrive at the party looking like that. You're ruining your handsome face." Keir's lips pulled back in a snarl as Eleona's staff tapped on the sole of his dirtied foot, his body having no energy to move away from the touch. 

In the darkness, Keir could feel a coldness seeping over him, his bare feet constricting in something strangely soft, softness that he had not felt in a long time. The coldness creeped up his leg, to his waist, all the way to his neck. He held his breath as cold shadows licked at his face, his hair being tugged sharply as he bit his lip sharply, drawing blood. As the coldness left his body, Keir's heavy arms touched his legs. Silk. His fingers moved up his body, muscles aching at the simple exertion, taking in the soft shirt and coat he now wore. His face felt clean, the only blemish now was his bitten lip, the small bead of blood growing on the red skin. Keir's long hair, now falling to his mid back in lazy, glossy curls, felt clean and fresh, but so very cold against his neck. 

"Much better," Eleona clapped, her shadows pulling the prince to his feet. "Now you look like someone belonging to me."

"Unhand me," Keir groaned weakly, Eleona simply sighing at his petty defiance.

"No need for that attitude," Eleona said, pulling her hand into a shadow, producing a glass bottle of red elixir. "Drink." Eleona pressed the lip of the bottle against Keir's mouth, the prince gritting his teeth as he turned his head away. "I said drink, boy." Gripping Keir's chin, Eleona forced the liquid into his mouth, Keir spitting as he glared without eyes, Eleona hissing as some of the liquid stained the bodice of her gown. Unable to expel all of the potion, Keir felt himself grow tired, his body calming against his will. 

"Now I can't wear this dress to receive our guests!" Eleona fumed, rubbing the red stain with a darkly painted nail, frowning angrily. Tapping her staff on the ground beneath her feet twice, Eleona exhaled deeply as she was surrounded by her shadows, her gown melting off her unblemished skin, new fabric wrapping sultrily around her curves. The dark crimson fabric matched Keir's tie and his deeply coloured lips, Eleona nodding happily. 

"Now we are ready," Eleona said, taking Keir's arm in hers as he swayed on his feet, Eleona smiling as his warmth pressed against her body. Eleona's head snapped to the ceiling as a shrill cry erupted from outside, the woman's smile deepening as she licked her lips. 

"Our guests are here. We mustn't keep them waiting."

~~~

"Are you ready?" Duncan called to his troops, a chorus of battle cries erupting in the darkness of the night. Rows of mirrors lined the large grass fields of the palace, the servants scrambling to gather every last one of them to place on the field. The old seer had spread the witch's dark magic from her main portal, the mirror in Keir's room, the other mirrors of the palace shimmering as the soldier's cries made their faces shake. Pulling down the front of his helm, Duncan turned to Lucas, whose strong body was clad in heavy armour, freshly sharpened sword hanging from his his. His helmet was held against his chest as he stared into Keir's mirror, his deformed left hand a fist against his chest. 

'I'm coming, Keir.'

Rose watched on from the balcony beside Lucas's mother, who tightly gripped her hand as she watched her son and her husband adjust their armours, dabbing a handkerchief below her eyes as they touched the mirrors, testing the waters.

"We pray for your safe return," Rose whispered, the Queen's hands shaking. Rose felt her heart unravel as her husband's body disappeared in a mass of silver water, droplets falling onto the grass as soldiers fell in behind him. Soon, the large field was empty, with only rows of shimmering mirrors gently swaying in the wind.

Lucas pulled his sword from its scabbard, fingers flexing as he readied it. The moment they had stepped through the mirror, Lucas found himself standing on the outskirts of a large garden, brown flowers wilting as frosted wind blew around them. There was no moon in the sky, but an eery sheen of silver light shone from above them, casting terrifying shadows across the grotesque garden. Feeling the presence of the large group of soldiers behind him, Lucas took a step forward. Lucas's foot brushed a weed in the middle of the path, a loud roar erupting from his left. 

A soldier screamed in agony as Lucas turned, eyes wide, only to see half of the soldier's body flying in a red arc through the air. Terrified screams scattered across the group of soldiers as a large stone gargoyle turned towards them, teeth dripping with blood. 

"Attack!" Lord Duncan yelled, soldiers snapping out of their disbelief as the gargoyle's stone wings flapped, teeth crashing together. Soldiers began to slam their swords against the stone beast, the metal barely able to chip away at the monster's hide, its clawed hands swiping in a raging arc, soldiers falling as their intestines spilled from the jagged wounds across their abdomens. 

A second cry from Lucas's right tore his eyes away from the carnage, a second gargoyle shaking off cobwebs as it screeched, wings lifting it up into the sky as it ripped itself from its stone pedestal. 

"On your right!" Lucas yelled, slower soldiers unable to roll away from the monster's blow in time, their armour clattering as they fell. 

"Lucas!" his father yelled, as he issued precise orders to soldiers, regaining some sense of control as the monsters tore into their ranks. "Lord Duncan and these men will follow you! Continue inside, the men out here will handle these beasts!" Lucas nodded as a large portion of their forces lined up behind Lucas, his father rushing forward with an enraged cry, his sword slamming against the first gargoyle's impenetrable hide. The blow, directly hitting a jagged crack line, made the beast scream as a large chunk of its side broke apart, soldiers cheering as they finally saw weakness in the terrifying beast. 

Seeing the King's prowess, Lucas felt confidence build inside him, briskly ordering his mean to enter the castle. As they approached a towering set of black doors, Lucas expected them to be forced closed, but as he pressed his palm against them they opened easily, like curtains. Narrowing his eyes, Lucas stepped inside, a soldier's arm coming in front of him, armoured head shaking. 

"Allow us to go first, Your Highness," the soldier said, Lucas nodding. Three soldiers stepped in front of the prince, swords readied, the large group stepping into the well-lit entrance. Candles sat ablaze despite the winds that ravaged them, revealing a large, stone throne room. The throne was empty, though a goblet of half finished win sat on its arm rest. On the wall across from it was a large ornate mirror, its rim a dark gold shaped into fallen flowers and lifeless hands. Its face glimmered slightly, the reflection in its face distorted. Motionless skeletons were piled up against the walls, the soldiers cautiously inching forward. As the last soldier stepped in, the large door snapped closed with a click, a candle flickering out.

The floor shook as if an earthquake shook it to the core, but Lucas's eyes saw that it was not an earthquake. The hundreds of skeletons sitting in seemingly discarded piles on the side shook as they pulled themselves together, mandibles chattering as their voiceless mouths opened and closed, teeth snapping together as their rusted swords swung in the candlelight. 

"They're alive!" a soldier cried, horrified, as the skeletons encircled them. 

"Prince Lucas, stay behind me," Duncan said gravely, eyes watching the movements of the skeletons carefully. As the closest skeleton tilted its head to the side, mouth held open in silence, the soldier tensed. Then, its mouth closed, the clack of its teeth against each other echoing around the room. Skeletons screamed from all around them, the ground shaking as they all rushed forward, swords brandished. 

"Strike them down!" Duncan cried, his sword slamming into the skull of the skeleton, the monster falling to the ground in a flurry of bones. Grinning at the easy victory, the soldier let out a cry as he felled another one. 

"Behind you!" Lucas yelled, busy parrying the lunge of a skeleton as he watched, wide eyed, as a skeleton began to shake, its bones pulling together once again. Duncan, sword locked with another, could look on as the once-fallen skeleton shoved its sword into his back. 

"Your Highness, run," Duncan croaked, blood spilling beneath his helmet as he coughed, his hand gripping onto a skeleton's arm, thrusting his sword into its ribcage, shattering it to pieces. The Captain fell to the ground as Lucas watched in horror, another set of hands gripping him on the back, shoving him forward. 

"You men," the other soldier called, gesturing at a group of his comrades who were stomping on the skulls of some skeletons they had pushed to the ground. "With us." They nodded as they saw Prince Lucas amongst the small group, his eyes still stuck on Lord Duncan's still form, their other comrades busy keeping the skeletons at bay as the small group rushed forwards through the castle. 

"This is madness," a soldier muttered under his breath, his sword blunted after slamming it against so many skulls, yet the skeletons simply standing back up as it he had merely patted them on the head. 

"If we end the witch, we should end it all," Lucas said, voice hard, the soldiers nodding. As they entered a long hallway, the end obscured by darkness, the soldiers tugged on the doors running along the sides. 

"This one's locked," a soldier informed, kicking the door. 

"This one too," another piped up, hilt of his sword trying to break the knob, the door not budging at all.

"Locked."

"Same here."

The group continued forward, swords always ready, as they tried all the doors along the hall way. They were all locked, as if they were acting as guides, forcing the soldiers in a certain direction. 

As they reached the last door along the hallway, the door clicked open without a touch. Looking at each other, the soldiers gulped, the smell of rotting skin wafting from behind the open door.

"Forward," Lucas said, swallowing his fear as he stepped inside first. Something wet hit the edge of his armour, the metal melting instantly. Looking at at the source of the liquid, Lucas was met with a gaping black mass, its legs dripping onto the ground as the carpet beneath it hissed and burned. 

"Run."