The fortress was nothing short of an architectural marvel, piled to the very top with furnished floors and a long spiraling staircase. Tara and Erin kicked up the loose dirt beneath their feet at the very bottom of the fortress, feeling the cold damp earth while inhaling the stale air within the mountain. Looking up into the belly of the fortress from the very bottom made Erin dizzy. The cone shaped home grew smaller with every floor, illuminated by candles and homemade lanterns that twirled until the very top.

     "What's on the agenda for today?" Erin asked.

     "Well, I," Tara motioned to herself before grabbing a hold of the railing, "I have to teach an advanced fighting class."

     Erin looked towards Tara but continued following beside her while dragging her fingertips against the cold metal spiral, "And me?"

     "You, my dear sister get to sit and watch," Tara chuckled. Erin pouted but kept her pace up the monotonous stairs, pounding her boots against each step.  They dodged quick footed furies heading in the opposite direction.

     The floors of the mountain never seemed to end, and the urge to count them dwindled after walking past the first fifteen or so. Nones had their own designated floors (floors 1-3), covered in bland geometric patterns that remained constant throughout all of their quarters, making everything generic in appearance. Within those floors, rooms stretched on and around the entire circumference, separated by poorly drawn doodles on doors, segregating nones into sections with the others who shared their job description. Erin looked towards floor three and took note of the long line of doors marked with miniature stick figures, signifying the row of rooms belonging to the nannies of newly born furies.

     "Erin, hurry up. You're going to make me late," Tara grabbed on the strings of Erin's cape and tugged gently.

     "Sorry."

     Floors four and five were for meals, which were always Tara's favorite places to be. Floor four held rows of splintered tables and benches for the nones to eat, while floor five was mainly designated for the furies and future furies to have their meals. Nones both young and old sat currently scattered throughout, quietly sipping broth with blank faces. Rich red floors took up the floor five. Tables were sanded down and smooth and benches rarely held any chance for a splintered mishap. Because of the odd schedule, meals were served during night hours, up until the sun peeked out from behind the mountains. Erin sighed quietly to herself.

     "What's wrong?" Tara asked. She continued staring straight ahead with no sign of slowing down.

     Erin looked down at her feet and through the grate of the spiraling stairs to the dimly lit tunnel at the very bottom, "I wish they could just throw a rope over and pull us up," she huffed, "this is ridiculous."

     Tara laughed and pushed her dark hair behind her ear, "Don't worry, you'll get used to it once you have to do it more often."

     The scent of fresh bread dwindled the more they continued up the stairs. The floors were open and on display for whomever decided to look while walking up the never ending spiral of doom. Erin watched as a fury sat outside of her room, caped pulled over her face, while she sharpened the blade of her sword. Others simply walked past, not acknowledging those who weren't a part of their designated group. The floors of full fledged furies wrapped around with more space in between rooms than that of the nones and the floors always glistened from a fresh mopping; the fury sharpening her blade brought her head up briefly to take note of the elderly none mopping up after a stampede of dirt footed girls.

     "Which room are we going to?"

     Tara responded quickly, "Practice room 7."

     They stepped off the stairwell and headed down a long corridor, only slightly lit from unattended lanterns that were nearly snuffed out. Windows were not permitted in many rooms. According to the leader Dia, furies should not be permitted to constantly look upon the outside world, otherwise it would sully their minds. Erin huffed at the thought. They passed several practice rooms, either dormant for the time being or filled with the battle cries of soon to be furies.

     "After you," Tara opened the door to the room.

     Erin stepped inside and looked around at the room that she had finally freed herself from. Granted, it wasn't the exact same practice room that she had been trained in, but they all looked the same: large, square, and almost entirely empty, save for a weapons rack with swords, daggers, and one mallet with jagged spikes. Not many furies opted for the mallet due to its weight and the longevity it added to killing, but it was still an option nonetheless. Six furies sat side by side with empty stares, wearing cloaks lacking hoods to show their status. At the sight of Tara, all jumped up with smiles on their faces. The girls could not have been more than thirteen and all carried the same long dark hair, except one whose bordered dark brown.

     "Tara! Finally!" One screamed.

     "Can we start?" Another asked.

     Erin moved to the edge of the classroom and watched as Tara removed her cape and cracked her knuckles. Beneath the comfort the long black material, Tara wore a tight fitted shirt and matching trousers. Her arms bulged with muscle but for some reason still came off as delicate, even with the bruises and small scars that were riddled throughout.

     "Alright!" Tara yelled, "Pick a partner and pick a weapon," she motioned to the rack of practice weapons. The girls ran over, trying to find the least dilapidated sword and giggled as they swayed them back and forth. Erin watched with a smile.

     "Now I want all of you to practice parrying," she started pacing in front of the eager furies, "there will always be a target that will want to put up a fight and not all of them are bad at it."

     "Begin!" Tara yelled. Immediately, the sound of blades catching blades echoed throughout the room, followed by chuckles and shouts. Tara stepped over by Erin but kept her attention on the students.

     "I wish I had as much fun as they apparently do," Erin stated. She played with her blonde hair, picking out small traces of feathers from when she had last lied down.

     "You and me both."

     The door to the room open quickly and Gwen, Dia's personal guard and messenger, headed directly towards Tara with a sheepish lowered stare and held out her hand. She held within it, a folded piece of paper and awaited Tara's immediate removal of it. Tara obliged without so much as a word or glance and opened it once for a moment, before shoving it into her trouser pockets. The girls practicing seem to take note of the exchange and halted their practice with intrigued stares.

     "A target?!" A girl asked loudly.

     In unison they ran over and jumped up and down begging to see.

     "Remember the rules, girls?"

     They rolled their eyes and recited it with disappointment, "A target is meant for a specific fury who is designated for a specific area. Under no circumstance will targets be revealed to other sisters."

     "What else?" Tara asked.

     Once again there was an exaggerated eye roll by all six students, "A fury's paper is her mission and her mission alone."

     "Good girls," Tara replied, "Never forget it."