Two ninjas sat on the rooftop of the highest building in the Crossroads, sipping tea. There was a sudden eclipse from the sun that made them look up, and then faces were smashed in and cut apart by the very cups from which they drank.
 
“Maybe you can help me,” Kamilla hissed, standing over them. One of the ninjas went for her weapon and Kamilla threw her off the roof. Then she grabbed the other ninja by the collar and lifted her up. “I'm looking for Lynne. Have you seen her?”
 
“Hilla tat sitsch,” the ninja gasped. She frantically pointed towards the tavern. “Hilla tat sitsch!”
 
“Thanks.” Kamilla broke her neck.
 
A ninja on the ground had come over to inspect the crash she had just heard. When another body hit the ground next to her, she spun around and drew her blade. She circled around the building and almost made it the door before Kamilla reached out the window, seized her wrist, and forced her own sword through her chest. The ninja's lungs were full of blood before she could call out for help.
 
Kamilla stepped on her on the way out the window and marched straight towards the tavern, her arms at her side, her long skirt wafting in the daytime breeze, and her katana still at home in its hilt at her side.
 
Two ninjas came out of the doorway to greet her with their nun-chucks, but she did one of them in with a swift kick to the gut, and broke the other one's legs with an iron rod that was resting against a nearby building.
 
A third ninja came running out of the doorway, but she didn't get far, as the iron rod was thrown a distance of thirty feet into her neck, knocking her to the dirt.
 
Kamilla stopped in the middle of the courtyard leading to the tavern and raised her head to the top floor.
 
“LYNNE!” she shouted. Beads of sweat trickled down her hair as she watched the open windows, waiting for an answer. Behind her, in an abandoned building that stood seven stories tall, a shadowy figure slowly moved up the crumbling steps and knelt below the window before drawing a bow and a single arrow.
 
At around the same time, the blue-haired ninja appeared at one of the tavern windows.
 
“You're looking good these days, Kam,” the ninja called down. “How come you never stop by to say 'hi'?”
 
“...I always knew you were a lowlife, but I never thought you'd stoop to kidnapping children,” Kamilla said. “Give me my daughter back and I'll end your life quickly.”
 
“Don't you mean you'll let me live?”
 
Kamilla scowled and her fingers graced the hilt of her katana.
 
“Come now,” Lynne said. She leaned forward out the window and her eyes seemed to look elsewhere for a moment. “You wouldn't kill me. You won't even draw your blade. You're Kamilla, the Sword Mistress of Honor. Isn't that the ridiculous name you gave yourself?”
 
“I don't give myself names, 'Hawkeye.'”
 
“Then what am I supposed to leave on the tombstone when we bury you?”
 
A bowstring was snapped and an arrow whizzed through the air, aimed straight for Kamilla's head. A quick sidestep on her part was all that kept her skull from getting pierced in half.
 
“I don't think you'll ever get that pleasure,” Kamilla said, calmly stepping over the arrow that had landed at her feet. “Now, get me my daughter.” The ninja behind her began to quickly reload her bow, but Kamilla broke into a sprint towards the tavern and Lynne's eyes shot open.
 
“Get her!” she screamed, disappearing from view.
 
Suddenly, a ninja rose from every window in the tavern, holding a nocked bow. A volley of arrows rained down around Kamilla, but she dodged them all by rolling across the ground. By the time the second wave of arrows came down, she had already smashed through the front door of the tavern and broken a chair over the back of another ninja.
 
Down the stairs rushed a torrent of black-garbed ninjas and they quickly surrounded Kamilla.
 
“I'll kill every last one of you until I find my daughter,” she whispered, and then she unsheathed her katana. Her breaths were shaky now, but she held the blade steady in her hand.
 
“Well, well, well...” Lynne laughed as she sauntered down the stairs. “Mark this as the day Kamilla finally draws her weapon. I am impressed.”
 
“Not as impressed as you're about to be.”
 
“Do you really think you can take on all my ninjas?” Lynne remained a safe distance away while more ninjas flooded into the room. They came from the door, from the stairs, from the windows, from under the tables, from behind the counter, and even from behind the pictures on the wall. Before long, there were at least fifty long-haired, heavily-armed assassins forming a circle around one suddenly small-looking Kamilla.
 
“...I'll do what I have to, for the sake of my daughter.”
 
And Kamilla dove at them and got beat down so bad that Lynne couldn't even watch. Whether it was because she actually felt sorry for her old friend—or because she was too busy laughing—nobody was quite certain. But within a minute, blood was pouring uncontrollably from Kamilla's nose, and she was on the floor, her blade at her side, struggling to get back up.
 
She didn't even seem to notice that her katana was broken.
 
“...That's enough,” Lynne said, and then she repeated it in a language the ninjas could understand. “Leave us now.”
 
The ninjas bowed their heads and slipped back into the shadows.
 
When only Kamilla was left—a sad sack of a human being on the floor—Lynne walked over and carefully and maliciously stepped on the back of Kamilla's hand with her boot. She gradually began to apply more and more pressure to it as Kamilla moaned and cried out in agony.
 
“That was for me,” Lynne whispered into her ear after kneeling down. “I've always been better than you, Kam. Without me, you never would have survived with the Sisterhood of the Blue Rose.”
 
Kamilla tried to speak, but the only thing to come out of her lips was more blood.
 
Lynne decided to keep her from drowning in her own blood by grabbing her by the back of the hair and lifting her head off the floor.
 
“I could've had you killed,” she said. “But I didn't. Do you know why?”
 
The only answer she got was a half-attempted scowl and then Kamilla's eyes rolled to the back of her head.
 
“...I was hoping you could tell me,” Lynne said, dragging her over to the counter. “A nosy redhead came around the other day looking for you. Didn't take a liking to her at first, but she hired me to track you down. Now I want to know why.” She cleared off the bottles and dirty glasses in one fell swoop of her arm and then hoisted Kamilla onto the countertop. “Do you know anything about this? I mean, I could understand if she wanted you dead, but she made it pretty clear she wants you alive.”
 
Kamilla coughed and a steady stream of blood followed.
 
“...I suppose this qualifies as you still being alive,” Lynne said, grabbing a rag from behind the counter and wiping off her own hands before cleaning the blood from Kamilla's face. “You're lucky I want to know what this is all about, or I just might be tempted to kill you both. In fact...” She eyed the knives that were hanging on the wall behind the counter. “...Ridding the world of two notorious criminals isn't such a bad idea...”
 
 
-------------------------


Olivia's eyes were empty of color as she studied the lifeless body on the ground. The sun was setting, just over the western hills of the vineyards, but she imagined the flesh was still warm. There was a simmering glow to it.

Kneeling down, Olivia slowly reached her pale fingers towards the corpse.
 
What had happened? She had escaped the dungeon. She had limped through that pitch black tunnel, crawled through the sewers beneath the city on her hands and knees... But now here she laid, an arms-reach from the sewer grate, body curled on the ground like a shriveled grape, staring up at her ghost. There was a fear in her eyes that made her shudder and draw her hand away.

Three years of starvation, of isolation, of that poisoned tea running through her veins... It had taken its toll on her health.

She moved back. There was a sudden darkness to the world now. Even with the sun casting its warm glow on the planet, the color began to bleed away, beginning with the horizon and creeping towards her like a terrible fog. The gray sky overhead moaned, an ominous thunder, and the clouds began to twist into the faces of so many tormented souls that she had to look away to keep from screaming.

“OLIVIA...” they shrieked. “OLIVIA... OLIVIIIIIIA...”

“Stop it...” she whispered, clutching her chest and facing the stone wall. She shuddered and began talking herself in murmurs, trying to forget the chants, trying to push back the horrible cries for just one more moment...

“Olivia...”

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” Olivia lashed out at the voices, who sounded so close now that she had no choice but to turn around and face them. What she saw caused all her fears to melt away and she stood breathless in her spiritual vessel, staring at the ghostly image of her grandmother, surrounded by a thin ethereal light.

“Hello, Olivia,” Gwendolyn said, smiling, and her body radiated in color. She stepped forward from the shadows and the howls from above began to disperse into the wind and become mere background noise to the aura she spread over Olivia's body and spirit.

Olivia remained frozen, even as her spiritual form began to gain color and her eyes began to emit a white light, much like the light that was in her grandmother's eyes.

“They will not hurt you,” Gwendolyn said, nodding to the sky, and her words were strangely soothing. She wore a long robe of the green and gold threads, wrapped tightly around her body, and she carried a walking staff made of gray oak that she leaned on as she spoke. “They are your ancestors. They have no desire to see you here so soon.”

“W-what...is this place?” Olivia asked. She looked around, but a purple dome of light sealed her into this small area. There was only enough room for her, her grandmother, and her...corpse. Her eyes fell to the grass again. The color had returned, but not to her body. “Am I really...dead?”

Gwendolyn laid her staff against Olivia's chest.

“You are on the verge of death,” she answered, closing her eyes. The orb atop the staff began to shimmer like the full moon, breathing life into the body below, and then she opened her eyes again. “But today isn't the day you join us.”

“I don't understand...”

“Adelais has changed since your mother locked you in that dreadful place. The fate of this world now dangles by a thread. I fear I'm partially to blame... Despite my best intentions when I served the Old Queen, the prophecy we have been warned about for so long is nearly fulfilled. Three of the four households that bind Ellewyn and Kaligar have fallen to faces of evil, and I fear it isn't long for the fourth.”
 
 “The prophecy of our ancestors? My mother...is part of that?”

Sadness filled Gwendolyn's eyes as she lowered her staff and turned to Olivia.

“Yes. I saw it coming, but I could not stop it... A mother can only restrain her daughter for so long.” She shook her head, obviously disheartened by the way events had played out in her own lifetime. “The same could be said for the Old Queen... With Isabella's premature ascent to the throne, Ellewyn has become as dark and corrupt as the lands of the Dark Lady herself. If Princess Erika falls...then all hope is lost.”

“What am I supposed to do? Kill my mother? I...”

“No. No, no, dear Olivia...” Her grandmother reached out and touched Olivia's cheek, smiling. “Rebecca will pay for her misdeeds, but you mustn't give into the darkness or nothing will change.”

“What then? I can't let her destroy Haledon... This is our home.”

 “This is not the home we once knew. I've been watching your mother and Isabella tear this land apart for their own selfish end... Their power has spread too far for any one person to stop.” She moved closer. “Listen to me, Olivia. I want you to flee this land. Go to Kaligar... Find Erika... Warn her of the danger this land faces, and ensure nothing happens to her... Without her, Adelais has no future.”
 
“I can't get to Kaligar in this state! Look at me. I just died.”

“Nonsense, dear. I already told you. There are still some things your old grandma has a say in... Now, it's time to remember that song I used to sing to you. You do remember the one, don't you?”

“Yes...” The herbs had warped Olivia's mind, but there were some things she would never forget. “Of course I remember.”

Gwendolyn smiled, seemingly at ease, even as the color of her skin dissolved.

“My ethereal strength is fading,” she said, releasing Olivia. “I cannot stay any longer. Go to the courtyard behind the manor and face the garden. Listen to the words of the song... It will lead you to me...”

“Wait!” Olivia cried, rushing forward. “Gramma, I—” She reached out in a panic, but the ghostly image of grandmother continued to drift backwards, and the aura over her head suddenly collapsed. In a flash of purple light, she was blinded, and then the world went dark.
 

-------------------------
 
 
“How could you let this happen!?” Rebecca shouted, forgetting there were a number of maids in the manor who could have easily overheard their conversation. “You incompetent oaf. Olivia was to never leave that cell!”
 
Vlanis took the lashing like a true pro. It had been about two hours now since her guards had wandered to the very basement of the dungeon in search of the missing warden and found her in a cell that had supposedly been vacant for decades. Those morons had actually believed she had locked herself up because she was drunk and didn't want to take it out on the prisoners...

“One of my guards must have slipped her the key,” Vlanis said. She was getting good at lying. “When I find out who did it, you can bet heads will roll.”
 
“...Ugh, this is unbelievable.” Rebecca kicked the door of the living chamber shut and tugged on her hair as she began to pace in circles. “Her mind should be completely lost by now. She shouldn't even be able to move. How did she plan an escape? How?”
 
“What do you mean?”
 
“You idiot—did you really think Olivia was always this crazy? I've been giving her that tea for years. The herbs are what keep her delusional and out of my life.”
 
“Oh...uh...right.” That's what Olivia had been blabbing about before... The old hag must have forgotten to tell her about that.
 
“Her scrawny little body must be adapting to the drug faster than I anticipated. I'll need to increase the dosage next time.” Rebecca fell on the couch and buried her head in her hands. “But what are we going to do in the meantime...? We can't have her running around Ellewyn, showing her face to everyone. Most of them were at her funeral three years ago. They're bound to suspect something is wrong when they see a ghost.”
 
Okay, think quick, Vlanis. She's calmed down. If you can cheer her up, maybe you'll get back in her good graces, and she won't feed you to the wolves.

“Uh...well...Olivia's physical appearance has changed a lot,” she said. “Poor girl's mostly all bone now and her hair is practically down to her knees. I doubt anybody would recognize her.”

Rebecca's fingernails dug into her flesh as she looked up.
 
“You were supposed to be taking care of her!” she snapped. “What the hell have I been paying you for!?”
 
Vlanis winced. That was dumb.
 
“...I can't believe you would put my daughter's life at risk like that. I ought to hang you right now.” Rebecca brushed back her hair and took a deep breath, holding it for as long as she could. When she finally exhaled, she leaned back and spread her palms on the couch cushions. “...But I won't because you're going to find Olivia and you're going to bring her to me. After all, a good warden knows how to clean up her messes. Isn't that right?”
 
“Of course.” Disrespectful hag. Hadn't she served this family proudly for years? “Where should I start looking?”

Rebecca reached for a small portrait of Olivia she had on the end table.
 
“Well... It's not like Olivia has any friends to run to, so I doubt she'll leave the city. After all, I'm the only person who ever cared about her.” Then a sudden darkness came over her eyes and she set the portrait aside. “And that damn Kadaj...”
 
That name again! That's all Olivia ever spoke of. Who in the blazes is Kadaj?

“Who's—”
 
“It's of no concern to you,” the countess spoke quickly, rising to her feet. “I will dispose of this 'fantasy' of hers right now. I knew it was a mistake to keep him alive for this long.”

Him. Kadaj was a man. Why wasn't she surprised?
 
“Right,” Vlanis said. It's too bad Kadaj had to die, or she would've loved to torture him in front of Olivia. “So, uh... You think she's coming here then?”
 
“She has nowhere else to go, you fat twit. This is her home. She'll come for me or she'll come for Kadaj, and you'll catch her, and we'll be rid of this problem once and for all. Then we'll discuss how you should be punished. Are we understood?”
 
“Completely.” Her pelt would look good on the wall.
 
“Good. Now, go outside and keep watch for her.” Rebecca pointed to the door and waited until the warden had opened it before speaking again. “I've never given you an assignment more important than this one... You fail me this time, captain, and I'll have you thrown back in that cell and leave you there to rot. I promise you that.”

Vlanis scowled, as her back was to the countess, and closed the door quietly. As she started down the hallway, metal armor clanging against the hard floor, the scar over her left eye opened, and something warm trickled down the side of her face. She ignored it, even as a splash of blood appeared on her gauntlet, and grabbed the hilt of her sword.

She was glad Rebecca never specified the condition Olivia had to be in when she was returned to the manor.