What does someone see when they walk into a situation they don't understand? What kind of conclusions do they come to when they have only a small part of the puzzle to work with? I sometimes wonder this myself. When I go to take a soul. I walk into a situation that I know nothing of. Then I step in and the situation changes. Did I change the situation or did the situation change for me? Oh well I guess it doesn't matter. Either way when I walk in someone dies.

Did I get a little dark there? That happens occasionally, you know, cause I'm a reaper. Anyhow, welcome back to Deathterpeice Theater. Robert was about to give his little chat about how he walked into the hall. Shocking right? Someone walked into a hall. How do you even tell a story about walking into a hall...

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"As I was rounding the corner during my final sweep of the castle. I found Kind lying dead on the floor. No one had passed me in the hall on the way there. Nor had he been there on my previous sweep. Upon seeing him there I ran to his body to check whether he was still alive or if he had just fainted. I shook him a bit but he didn't make any response. Fearing the worst I rolled him over and checked to see if he was breathing. There was nothing. I attempted to resuscitate him. But as you can see your majesty I failed in that. After realizing there was no saving him I went to inform the captain of the situation. Upon our return the captain ordered me to move the body back to it's original state." The guard finished speaking showing a slight bit of panic.

Senna didn't notice the slip in the guard's composure through her own mental struggles. "Thank you for the report Robert, you may go back to guarding the hall." Senna said, her voice beginning to shake. The report had reaffirmed the fact that Kind was dead. Just another person who had tried to aid her. Just another dead friend. She move closer to the body, to Kind. Kneeling down she reached for his shoulder. At this Porten reached out and stopped her with a gruff voice he said. "Your Majesty. You mustn't touch him. The priests need him as untouched as possible to aid in finding the reason he died." Senna looked at Porten with pain stricken eyes. Her mask beginning to fall apart. With a deep breathe she spoke. "I will take the daggers now. Please guide me to my study so that I may arrange the funeral and viewing." Porten replied. "Yes Your Majesty." Senna slowly picked up the daggers as if they were made of glass and easily broken. She placed them in a pair of pockets she had sewn into her pants for the purpose.

As they made their way through the halls towards he study Senna felt her mind being pulled towards the bottle she had stashed in the small bag hidden at her side. How much power did a Djinn really have? Could she bring someone back from the dead? Her parents? Tollen? Kind? How would she phrase the question? A little ray of hope began to blossom in her mind at the thoughts. She began to move faster. The closer they got to the study the more rapid Senna's pace began. Soon she was nearly running through the halls with no concern for her appearance or Porten, whom she had left far behind.

Reaching the door to the study she pushed the heavy wooden door with enough force to make it bounce as it hit the wall. When Senna heard the thump of the door she jumped in surprise. Slowly recovering from the exertion she turned to close the door. Only then did she realize she had left Porten far behind. Leaving the door open for him she went to the sturdy wooden desk located in the center of the room. It was covered in books, as were the walls in the room, all of which she had been studying since she had arrived. This room was special to her, the only room she really remembered from when she was young. Her father had spent his days looking at papers here. Everything had been so good back then. Her first wish had been decided. "Your Majesty. You shouldn't run through the halls like that I nearly lost you." A slightly harried looking Porten said as he stepped through the door to the study.

Hearing his voice Senna turned to face him. "Thank you for your concern with my well being Porten, as well as your assistance in getting me to the study. You may return to your men. I can care for myself for now." She spoke with a calm voice, clearly wishing to be alone. With a almost inaudible sigh Porten saluted and began to march back to his men. He was well trained and didn't know the Queen well enough to argue for her safety. After he had left Senna closed the door and headed back to the desk where she had unconsciously begun organizing a place to put the bottle. Reaching into her bag she grabbed the bottle. A shiver ran up her arm and straight up her spine. The bottle was cold, very cold, it felt like it should be covered in ice from how cold it was.

Pulling the bottle out of her bag she looked at it. Had this been the cause of the door handle going cold earlier? Looking at it now the bottle seemed such a simple thing. It was small, only about ten inches tall, and bland. The bottle looked like any other brown bottle you would find on the street. With the exception of the piece of paper that named it Fenrir. As she placed it on the desk the red lettering glittered slightly giving the appearance of a flame. Blinking Senna took another look at the bottle. Nothing happened it was just the same as it had been in her room. With a deep breath she reached for the cork and pulled. It didn't move. Why didn't it move? The books had all said simply touching the cork could allow it to be opened. Taking the bottle in both hands she pulled hard on the cork. Nothing, no movement at all. The feeling of despair was beginning to come back. Had Kind been wrong? Was this just another bottle of wine.

No, it couldn't be what about the odd things she had seen and felt? Taking out one of her older daggers she pushed it into the side of the cork. Holding tight to the bottle with one hand she pushed hard on the dagger. Snap, the blade on the dagger broke clean in half. Senna was stunned. She had opened bottles that way dozens of times. What kind of cork was so sturdy that it could break a dagger? Setting down the broken dagger she went to pull the fragment of blade out of the cork. She carefully place a finger in each side of the blade and pulled. Feeling pain come from her hand she looked down to see blood coming from her hand. Why hadn't she grabbed a piece of cloth before trying that? As she watched the blood slid down the blade and into the cork.

In seconds she began to feel a warmth from the bottle. Senna dropped the bottle as it quickly got to hot for her to touch it bare handed. When the bottle hit the ground it smashed releasing a plume of smoke which rapidly expanded. "Who Summons me, Name yourself so I may curse you" A gravelly voice erupted from the cloud of smoke. Senna couldn't move, or speak, from the thunder of the voice. A form began to emerge from the smoke. It had a twisting body somehow similar to a heavily muscled man, but wrong somehow. It's face was like something out of a nightmare with red eyes like fire, a mouth with a wide grin from smoke seemed to emerge. Light began to surge through it's body and she realized there was lightning running through the smoke.

"Don't make me repeat myself child!" The being shouted the books around the room shaking a toppling from the force of the sound. Senna shook, fear of this beast forcing her into shock. An arm formed out of the smoke and moved to Senna's neck. "Give me your name child!" It said with enough force to blow her hair back. "Se...nna" She said in a voice barely more than a whisper. "Senna. You have three wishes. No More. Upon your final wish I will be freed. Until then I will not harm you. My name is Fenrir. King of the Djinn." Fenrir said his voice becoming more human. With that the smoke began to fade and in its place was a man.

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As always thank you for reading. Oh and thoughts on the new name for the fiction?

Sincerely, The Author