"Is it unbelievable, Faustina?" The king asks as he caress her cheeks. Faustina stared in fear at his eyes, which was filled with dangerous tranquil. His sweet voice was now poison and his existence was now a fearsome presence.

"Is it peculiar to have so much souls in one body? Do you want to have that kind of body, too?"

"K-king... I c-can't..."

His hands traveled towards her neck, as his lips touched her ear.

"I hate children who do not listen."

Faustina suppressed a scream, feeling the king's grip to her neck, depleting her of air—

Fluttering her eyes open, Faustina instantaneously woke up and panted heavily. She stared at her hand, which was trembling in fear and slowly reaching to touch her neck. The throbbing pulse was a sign she's still alive. What was that dream about? She started to command herself to breathe slower, in order to calm her senses. But it seemed like all the principles that were taught to her were no longer applicable.

"Looks like you're already awake," says a familiar voice.

"Y-you're..."

"Fainting so suddenly while speaking to the king?" The woman, Sheila, says. She was still the same as before; wearing a thin cloth, her eyes of pale gold fixated at the void. "You sure are something, child."

Faustina scanned the place, which was surrounded by leaves and vines. The place was evident with Corinthian pillars circling around her, which was entrapped with vines bombarded with thorns and flowers. On top of her was the bright moonlight. On a closer look she noticed patterns of magical origin, a magical circle drawn invisibly through the sky; a barrier enclosing the entire terra firma.

"Wh-where am I?"

"This is the Sorcerer's Ground." She says. "We are still on the castle walls, worry not. We're simply here because I need to ask you questions before this scheme would be approved."

"How did I..."

"I brought you here." Sheila says, as she stared at the moon. "You fainted; don't you remember?"

Faustina shook her head, and then she tried to sit down, but then she finds herself unable to move. Or even lift a finger. She tried to speak, but she cannot even open her mouth.

"Prohibere movere." Sheila says. "That means, 'you shall not move.'"

"Is it necessary?" A voice from the corner said. Faustina still cannot move, but she could hear and perfectly knows of what the surrounding circumstances around her. Her body felt limp and light, from the incantation that was inflicted upon her body.

"It is necessary." Sheila says. "We must remain vigilant. You told me earlier that she had an encounter with the Forsaken? It just means she is a potential harm. I consider anything that links to that Forsaken a threat."

'Forsaken?' Faustina wanted to ask.

Faustina hears footsteps, echoing across the ground, until a pair of shoes reached her side. Someone knelt before her, and from the moonlight it is the high knight with the tousled hair. His eyes were the color of green, complimenting his rust-colored locks.

"I'm sorry we had to do this to you," he says. "But suddenly fainting like that—then the king fainting as well—we did not have much choice."

'The king fainted?' Faustina wanted to ask.

"Sir Elliot, please do not interrupt. You're here only to be a mediator. Please go back to where you should be."

The knight, Elliot, smiled at Faustina before he returned to his post. "As you wish, my lady."

"This place is the ground where rituals happen. Rituals that are chanted and made by sorcerers of high rank. This place is made to perform contracts and spells for the betterment of the empire. Spells to do both benevolence and malevolence, depending on the circumstances."

Faustina stared, unmoving.

"The vines and thorns symbolizes how many malevolent and benevolent spells are used within an area. In this case, it is only exclusive to the castle walls. As you can see, there is a fair balance of green vines to purple thorns. It means that neither good nor bad overlaps each other."

"Reditio!" The woman says and then Faustina blinked. With that word she can now move. She immediately sat down and tried to stand up.

"This place is covered with barriers. No one can hear us. No one can even see us right now."

"Why am I here?"

"You already drifted, didn't you?"

Faustina blinked, taken aback. "Yes, I did."

"Who is the sorcerer who used telepathy?"

"I don't know." Faustina said.

"Whose voice is it?"

Faustina stared at Sheila's eyes. They were now directly looking at her, fixated and unmoving. Her face was not hinted with emotions, but there was a questioning tone at her voice. The moonlight made her silhouette look intimidating, as if she is an ancient goddess who is ready to bestow her wrath.

"There were three voices," Faustina said, fidgeting slightly. "Two voices who said they were meant to answer questions. They said they are 'no one.'"

"And the other?"

"It was your voice."

Sheila tightened her grip at her staff. Clenching her jaw, she plunged the tip to the ground and it created a large magic circle, glowing marvelously. A wind started to sway in a circular motion, as if it was being emitted by the ground itself. Then Faustina noticed that more patterns from the magic circle was appearing along with the breeze getting stronger.

Then she hears a voice.

"A theory," says the first voice, "a theory we developed for a long time."

The other voice continued, "to sustain the life of the one inhabited with this unfortunate disease."

"A Heilen blood."

"A ritual."

"Binding of souls."

"Tying the lifespan to the other."

"A command,"

"An order."

"Eula knew." another silent voice—only too different from the others—says in such a distinctive tone.

"You are destined for this, Faustina."

The voices repeatedly echoed through the circle. And then a figure of a person appeared, rising from the ground. The person was clad in a blood-red cloak, with hand entangled with strings. The strings were connected to two puppets holding a staff.

"A p-person!"

"This is simply a fragmentation of the one who spoke to you." Sheila says. "You said there were three voices?"

"Yes."

"There is only one." Sheila mutters silently. "You spoke to puppets."

"H-how could that be?"

"A marionette played tricks on you." Sheila says, narrowing her eyes. "You did not speak with any sorcerer. You spoke with the Devil, Faustina."