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Adelaide's words had this substantial magnitude. The sentence, while been ushered half a minute ago, continued to echo in my mind. 'Welcome to the World of Magick'. Good gracious, what did she even mean? Her gaze lied still on me, as though it was firmly cemented in place.

My sight, for a second, turned hazy. Thick layers of smoke had built up around Adelaide. She was barely visible in the middle. All I could see was the silhouette of her slim build and, of course, the menacingly glowing runes adorning her body.

The red gleam faded out.

Everything all felt so wrong. The anomaly was a tad too difficult to believe, let alone comprehend. Honestly, this must have been a sleight of the imagination; like a dark fantasy.

With a burst of air, the thick mist around Adelaide dissipated. Unlike before, I wasn't bothered finding out I was staring her dead in the eye. Her eyes had gone back to their original appearance. The runes on her body had disappeared entirely. She was just Adelaide again, not that savage harbinger of destruction.

Mentally, I let out an awkward laugh. Though, in actuality, it came out like a wheeze.

Adelaide approached- casually as ever. She looked as though nought had taken place. Her wavy hair still perfectly cascaded down over her shoulders, till the bottom strap of her camisole above her navel.

She shivered. "You know, these short clothes really do get cold at the dead of night."

I didn't utter a reply. I was baffled beyond belief. Adelaide had literally, only a minute ago, massacred a group of bandits- and here she was, complaining about her garments' lack of warmth.

Adelaide noticed my silenced wit. Not like I blame her. Usually, I would have dug into her with some sarcastic remark. "You holding up okay?" She struggled to hold back a mischievous grin.

Something inside my head snapped. I couldn't resist the temptation to reply snarkily. "Well, of course, I am!" I politely smiled, "I mean, I only just found out a close friend of mine can somehow turn into a walking, decorated bonfire." I had managed to keep the faked smile up all the way up to the end. Looking away, I rolled my eyes; suppressing the urge to snort.

Adelaide sighed, whining, "Cynthia!"

Somehow, all the stress in betwixt had seemingly gone up in the air. Although in a fluent motion of time, the reality of the situation dawned on me, tension reprised its role on the stage.

I took in some fresh air, anticipating the explanation I so desired. "You know I want answers, Ade-"

She cut me off.

"Cynthia," Her voice was low, eyes narrowed down to slits. "Not now." The sweet edge to her words had turned rancid. "We ought to meet up at the Wharf's Headstreet before those horrid bandits call in reinforcements." Her gaze fell upon the bodies- the mess she made. Bloodstains coated the pebbles beneath the corpses.

"But-"

And, expectedly, Adelaide silenced me. She had placed a cupped hand over my mouth, whispering, "Quiet. We will explain."

I muffledly muttered, "We?"

"Your parents and I." Adelaide removed her hand from my face, ducking her head.

She understood me well, always had. She knew a feeling of betrayal had begun to well up inside me. How was it my parents were never bothered to tell me about this whole . . . ordeal? Actually, now that I thought about; naturally, they would keep their secretive mouths shut. After all, they needed to protect their little princess. How I hated it when they sheltered me. Father's over-protection felt constricting like a coiling snake.

I was losing it.

"Just what the hell do I know about you, Adelaide?!" I lashed out, digging my nails deep into my palms. My fists trembled in place; the ever exerting pressure had built up to the point it felt as though I was breaking the very bones within.

She frowned at me. Without batting an eye, she spoke, "You know only what I want you to know." Adelaide furrowed her brows, continuing, "I never told you the things I have seen. Nor the things I did to get here." She snarled, shaking her head lightly yet violently. "Nobles like yourself don't get what it's like to experience a life of poverty. I have been through things your worst nightmares pale in comparison to."

I harshly bit down on my bottom lip. Too hard, in fact. I could taste the iron, metallic tang of blood oozing onto my tongue. Its dominating taste forced me to swallow, almost coughing as I did so. I had never had a taste for bloodshed- especially in a literal fashion. "Adelaide," I ushered, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed."

Adelaide waved her hand, dismissing my apology. "Can we not? You know, there is a pirate invasion going on." She bluntly answered. "We've got places to be: the Headstreet. I'll be on the move, join if you will." She didn't provide me with a window of opportunity to make a move. Adelaide simply and promptly left. I watched as she turned a dimly lit corner, a face laced in a stone-cold facade and a blood-coated sword at the ready.

I didn't know what just really happened. Adelaide, naturally, had her... less socially engaging days, so to speak. However, her behaviour during the conversation was unlike her. It was as though she had morphed into a whole other person. Was this who Adelaide really was at her core? I dared not believe it. It didn't add up at all. Never, during the three years in which we have known each other, had she ever acted like that.

I got my act together and marched towards the arched gate up ahead. Turning to face the street Adelaide entered, I watched hell unfold. Windows were being smashed- people butchered and trampled, all the while, riches littered the ground; mingling with blood and coarse dirt.

Crowds of people rampaged. My gaze fell upon a young mother holding her infant child firmly. Some ill-mannered buffoon clad in black was violently jerking her arm. The mother screamed out to the man. As I approached her, I was taken aback by the man's heartless audacity. Without any clear sign of hesitation, he had got a hold of a scrap-metal shank.

I rushed over, but it was too late. In a fluent motion, the man slid her throat.

I drew near as he took the babe from their mum's clutches.

The corpse tumbled down to the ground, banging its heads onto the floor.

My swift pace humbled down into a halt as I saw tears flowing down the man's cheeks. I stood near enough to hear his fragile voice's words climbing over his lips. "This ain't a life worth living."

He raised the rusted blade, eyes filled with regret and remorse, he prepared to deliver the killing strike- an end to a life not yet lived.

I yelled my lungs out, "STOP!"

The man flinched, tossing a quick glance at me, then back to the child. His bottom lip was madly twitching, uncontrollably, probably. He had sunken down the river of despair. The man called out, "I- I never intended such a life of hunger for my wife, let alone me child."

"Life is precious," I started, a sensation of mental anguish spiking into existence. "You really can't go around throwing it away like trash." I felt my lips quiver. The sight I beheld clearly took its toll on me. Naturally. But perhaps more than it'd usually do. For goodness sake, I almost lost my Mother to some crazy bastard tonight.

I fought back the tears to the best of my abilities.

The man sulked- the faint light in his eyes bleeding out. He closed his eyes. I noticed the light fracturing within the tears peppering his eyes. "My dear Sara," The man stared at the corpse. "We lost the little belongings we had when the attacks started. She begged me to ease the pain." Droplets clung unto his jawline, falling one after the other.

I wasn't sure what to say. Every word could mean one of many possible outcomes. Carefully, I picked the words I sought, "Then you ought to make doubly sure you and your child keep fighting. Live the life she wanted you to." I paused, needing a breath, "In memory of her."

No longer was I capable of holding back the tears. I let them flow. My emotions, the recent events, they had all become a temporary burden too heavy to heave around.

His lips moved, but no words scaled them. It was a pitiful sight. The man's face was pale like a skeleton. At last, he stammered in agreement, "We shall, m' lady." He tightened his embrace with his child.

I couldn't have it any longer. I stepped away. The short-lived ordeal was a sour reminder: Crescent Isle is not what it used to be all those years ago. The reign of peace and prosperity had been dethroned a little while ago when the first attacks began. All my childhood, I could stand wherever I pleased, for there was no danger. The island used to be . . . a safe haven, I supposed.

I shook my head. Immediately, the thoughts drifted off with the tides. I had to stay in the moment. For a reason I could not pinpoint exactly, my thoughts were all over the place. Actually, after thinking about it, I knew precisely why.

Adelaide. Mother's injury, Adelaide, the poor man, oh, and how could I forget: Adelaide.

As a matter of fact, where had run off to? Looking around, all blended into one big messy blur. Flames and smoke limited the seeability a great deal. Narrowing my eyes, I tried to see through the curtains of fog. Only to make out what seemed like a fountain. Not any sort of ordinary pump, however. It clearly was the triple-layered marble spring. I remember Mother's explicit orders to have the whole thing carved out of one solid block. Ought to say, those Mainland stoneworkers did a great job.

Through the darkness, I managed to make my way to the Headstreet. The place was surprisingly quiet. Almost eerie. A part of me was afraid, for I was sure Adelaide has already raged through the street - but there was no blood. No collapsed buildings, nor piles of debris. It was as though every impurity had been cleansed- washed away with the waves.

With every step down the street, a heavy presence- or something akin- began to loom over me.

A voice broke the calm before the storm, "I had hoped you'd heeded my call, child."

I turned to the direction the sound came from. Not a soul around. A sense of confusion bridled my mantra. This night as a whole seemed like something too bizarre to occur. I reverted my head, facing the stainless fountain.

There they stood.

"Child, you ought not to seek further danger." The voice belonging to the individual was mockingly familiar. While I tried to pinpoint the familiarity, the person turned towards me. And it hit me. The voice belonged to the hooded stranger I had met earlier that day. His silvery beard hung down to the very bottom of his ribcage.

"It's you..." My voice trailed off to silence.

The man grabbed hold of his cloak, undoing the hood. For the first time, I had a proper view of his features. His oily, shoulder-length wavy locks were about as messy as I had envisioned them. However, his skin seemed untouched by the passing years. It was as though only the colour had faded to make him look older. Though, my eyes fell upon a subtle change of colour around his right cheekbone. The colouration was a blend of blue and black of sorts, with accents of purple. Albeit, it did give off the impression the man had been stricken with a blunt object.

The man's eyes flickered. "I'm fine, mind you." He must have noticed my staring.

"Apologies-"

People must have been in on some annoying gig or something. Just like Adelaide had, the stranger, too, cut me off. "This fight is not yours to combat. Return to the keep immediately." His eyes looked dead from the inside out. His voice was firm and low.

"I can't. Not yet, at least." I couldn't go yet. Retreating - in the first place - was not an option. However, it wasn't the main reason I wasn't willing to return to the keep. No, it was Adelaide. If anything happened to her out here, I dared never to forgive myself. Of course, she did blow those bandits to smithereens, but still. Even with great power, the wildcard of a flying bullet remained as lethal as a sword's slash.

"You need not fret it. Lady Adelaide's story is not prophesied to end amid the darkness, my child."

His words had taken me aback. Quite in a literal fashion, too. I broadened the space in between us.

"Worry not. I harbour no vile intentions." He turned, striding away, "However, I shall ensure justice befalls fairly upon her."

What, in the actual name of the Phoenix Lord, was that old man rambling about. 'Justice'? What justice. And if any, how about he enforced it upon these ravaging outlaws? Baffled, I called out, "Wait!" Smoke had begun emerging out of nowhere. Almost as if it was conjured at will. The mist surrounded him. Yelling, I managed to sneak in one more question before he had vanished into the obscurity. "Who are you?"

His dark eyes gleamed a golden hue, contrasting with the whitest of ethereal smoke. "Names are but trivial, for I carry hundreds."

I voiced my confusion; only for my words to give out in the wake of cannon fire and- explosions. My head was partially spinning. A tad too overwhelmed by everything, yet, all the sensations simply could not measure up to the dreading worry. As though it were on instinct, I followed the trailing echoes of repeated concussions. If I were certain of but one thing: it'd be where Adelaide had run off to.

Minutes of desperately racing through the port lead to the moment I feared above all else. All noises had died. The ring of explosions was no more. I managed to sneak a quick glance in. Around the corner, Adelaide - shackled and her bloodied head onto the paved bricks - was surrounded once more. Her face looked beaten to a pulp. Exhausted, too. It was a horrifying sight to behold.

I leaned back, reclining against the wall. Sensing my breathing had gotten a wee bit louder, I realised it was almost uncontrollable. Thankfully, it was short-lived.

A sudden sensation ran through my body. Something, or rather someone, tapped on my shoulder. Instantly, I turned towards whoever startled me, a looted dagger at the ready.

"Be careful with that! I rather not have my eyes gouged out." Captain Vhersio mocked me. He shook his head. He had never been one to support so-called 'swordswomanship'. Yet, undeniably, he praised his fiancée for her well-versed capabilities in the said art. "Anyway, the plan went south. The bastards captured Ada."

I ignored his remark, "Did you know?" I merely asked while two accompanying soldiers arrived.

"What do you mean, Lady Cynthia?" Vhersio, brows furrowed, his facial features clearly depicting his confusion, answered my question with a line of similar nature.

I frowned, my eyes, for as I far as I was concerned, showed no sign of emotions, "Her abilities. Did you know?"

"Of course! I'd even say her mastery with the blade is on par with, if not exceeding, mine--"

I had joined in on the on-going trend. In some twisted way. I had shut him up with a single glare. He knew what I was talking about. And he just as well knew I hated it to be safeguarded from secrets.

"Since you know about her powers, apparently. How the actual hell did she get herself captured?" My voice sounded like a horrible screeching. It was a blatant mixture of worry, stress and cautiousness. "Shouldn't she be able to blow them all up?" I had so many unanswered questions. Both for Adelaide, Vhersio and my parents. And naturally, for the stranger of no name.

Captain Vhersio pushed me gently aside, immediately apologising. He tossed a peek at Adelaide. Then back to me; dead frightened. He motioned two of his companions over, "Witchbreaker shackles," said he, voice as dark as the middle of the night. He quickly added on, "What did our scout report?"

One of the two guards, the taller of the two, readjusted his shoulder guards. "Results are positive. Our scout located the Vindicator anchored just outside the port. He requested to track a rowboat heading for the port, even specified it as a high-profile threat. Presumably either the Ogre or Captain Wyrmheart, sir."

"Shit. We can't afford to have them to meet face to face."

The Captain was speaking vague mysteries yet again. Everyone, tonight especially, felt extremely tenacious to keep me uninformed. It was starting to get real annoying real fast. The whole 'Let's keep Cynthia outta this' setting irked me beyond belief. I wasn't bothered asking why, fully aware I would not receive an honest and straight answer.

I toyed around with the idea of getting an answer momentarily. It was alluring, too much, truth be told. And, frankly put, I couldn't deny myself the opportunity, "Witchbreaker?" I inquired, head tilted. "And meet who face to face?"

"My sincerest apologies, my lady, but I have sworn to secrecy. However, as for as the Witchbreaker shackles concern: these metal cuffs are enriched with anti-magic properties. Furthermore, I believe Ada lost her strength through the exposure to similarly-forged weapons." Vhersio was pointing at one of the pirates' blades. The hilt was appearing as though it were curved. Whereas the long edge was smooth and flat. In its entirety, the steel blade looked about as big as the henchman himself.

"Then how about we go save her? Now." I dismissed the Captain's suspicions. It held no importance to me.

"That shall prove a solid solution to a part of the wreaking mayhem, my children."

Captain Vhersio turned, eyes wide. "L-Lord Theos?!" His voice cracked.

It was the same echoing presence I had felt before. I needed not to look, for I knew all to well who'd greet me.

It was him.

The hooded stranger--

Theos.