By time Ellen had descended the grand staircase which led to the entrance hall, Rolland was already there, staring at his feet and waiting for her. He shuffled at something on the carpet but look up as Ellen bounced off the last of the steps.

"Right on time. But before we go, I feel like we need to talk about what you may see today."

He motioned towards a cluster of chairs that was placed near a large window that opened to views of the grounds. It streamed through the morning sunlight, making all metallic surfaces glow and shine majestically. The hall was cavernous like all other areas of the manor but the wall-like windows made it lighter and welcoming. It was an open room and usually acted as a hub teeming with visiting Tempusmancers that were coming and going. There were several groups of chairs placed around coffee tables, larger tables for those that had large documents they wanted to show their peers and a drinks bar to accommodate those that were needed something extra whilst they waited or worked. It was a hive this morning as everyone arrived, the foot-traffic and arrivals since dying down. Now it was just Rolland and Ellen and another duo of what appeared to be business men enjoying a freshly brewed coffee and talking quietly between themselves.

Ellen sat down in the closest seat to the window, enjoying the warmth as the light shone on her legs. Rolland took the chair opposite to her and leaned in, as if there were others that were listening in. This made sense, the words of Dvorak flooding back to her.

... it is also unspoken about as it can be regarded as despicable and a sign of pure evil...

"What we are about to do is highly dangerous and the situation can change within a split second. Those that delve within Necromancer business are usually unpredictable at best and aren't afraid to kill if they feel threatened. In some cases, they kill just because they can."

Ellen looked onwards patiently, folding her hands on her crossed legs. What he was saying wasn't anything new. He pressed further.

"When we arrive back, you cannot speak about this to anyone – anyone. The darkness is not something to be spoken about, even if you are on our side and merely doing a job. The darkness, Necromancers, represents a very bad place for many of us here, and a good portion has lost loved ones to them."

He swallowed hard, as if he found it difficult to go on.

"For a lot of Tempusmancers, if you are willing to talk about the darkness, they will assume that you are at arms with them; they believe that you will go after their families. You automatically become the symbol and omen for death."

Ellen sat back, the urgency of secrecy become increasingly clear. "I can do that."

Rolland smiled, reassured. "Great."

He pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket, and smoothed it out on the coffee table between them. The paper was well crumpled, the creases not wanting to life flat on the glass surface. Ellen could make out that it was a map; a convoluted labyrinth of streets and alleyways. He pointed at a site just to the north of the city centre.

"I don't know if you've ever been to Dawns Hollow but this is our area of interest for today. The city itself is well known to both classes as it has seen its fair share of wars. The outer suburbs are the only sites that did not require any rebuilding after conflicts. A lot of history and a lot of high emotions. As you can imagine, there are a high number of Tempusmancers that reside here. I wonder if you can tell me what other feature this city may have? Take as long as you need, although do bear in mind we will need to leave eventually."

Ellen pulled the map closer to her and took in the delicate detailing. It was an old map, one that was hand-drawn before the rise of technology. She looked for patterns, signs, anything that would catch her attention. But she couldn't find anything out of the ordinary.

"Give up?" asked Rolland, curiously.

"Yes," she sighed. She hated not knowing something or being able to figure things out for herself.

"Dawns Hollow has a high abundance of..." A deliberate pause; a tension builder. "Cemeteries. Can you tell me why Necromancers love cemeteries and why a lot of their activities are more frequent in these areas?"

Ellen scratched her head, knowing that the answer would be obvious.

"Think about what traditionally Necromancers are known for. What have you read about them in books?"

"Necromancers are known for...Oh." Her face fell as the truth hit home. The magnitude of the task she was invited to grew to a much greater size and the importance and risks seemed even more real and complex. She took a deep breath to calm herself down.

"Necromancers mainly have the ability to control the dead, that is their sole purpose. They have evolved their skills slightly throughout the centuries but they are still elementary, nowhere near as complex and able as us. Whilst we should be okay to deal with one or two but if Lucien shows up, that's when we will be in trouble and may need to call for extras or if it's bad, for Guards. Guards are better able to deal with such situations. When we are on the ground, the danger will never go away. Those bodies that are buried can be resurrected awfully quickly."

There was a brief moment as they comprehended the situation within themselves: Ellen, the storm that she is about to fly into and the seriousness of the journey ahead; Rolland, the task of protecting her and keeping her from harm's way. Her head throbbed from the tension. But she was strong. And although her Master was on trial for murder and being an alleged double agent, she couldn't let it affect her.

It was time to be brave.

It was time to live up to her name.

"Would you like something to drink before we head off?"

Ellen felt nausea in her stomach, as if she was on a wildly rocking boat. Her head was spinning and her breathing became shallower.

"Would that be okay? Just a quick tea to settle myself." Rolland nodded and scurried off towards the waiting beverage-hand. She rubbed her temples to calm herself down.

Calm blue oceans.

Calm blue oceans.

And then there was a chink as the Guardian placed the teacup in front of her and reclaimed his seat.

"Rolland. When you said that Hans wasn't as innocent as I thought, what did you mean?" She gazed at Rolland who fell silent for a minute, trying to find his words. He then spoke quickly, quietly.

"Throughout my time here, I have seen him make mistakes, and decisions which were rash and ill-thought out. Don't take me wrong, the man is a genius and is amazing in his own right but that's not to say that he is perfect. He's guided us through a number of wars, of which I am of the impression that he could have minimised casualties. But no. He decided on the method of defence and because of it, more people died than was necessary."

She drank deeply from the cup, letting what was said to be processed. Ellen could have sworn that she heard jealousy in his words; in his tone of voice. Instead of highlighting his finer achievements, Rolland was quick to jump on all the negative aspects. 'Let bygones be bygones', her father would always tell her.

Did he once vie for the Master role or Grand Master?

Was he constantly overlooked for more important roles?

Or was it that he was still angry about the warning he had received?

But nothing prepared her for the question that was coming; which came when Rolland opened his lips. "Are you ready?"