The rising sun peeked over the distant mountain range, its purple summits just shadows against a yellow morning sky. A lush valley stretched away from the mountains, sparkling with the glitter of morning dew, and disappeared into a vast forest. Leaves of browns and greens tickled the waking sky. The old, decaying castle that belonged to the kingdom's enemy, Scarletta, sat quietly at the edge of the forest, under the looming shadows of the mountains. Black clouds stretched towards the mountain range, bringing with them the threat of a storm. Distant lightning flashed and cut through the sky.

 Scarletta stood over a wooden table, worn and beaten; it's nicks and dips held memories of struggled years as Scarletta anguished over each spell and potion she had created. Her vivid red locks fell swiftly across her face from their hold behind her ears as she mixed the colorful liquids. The glasses bubbled and steamed as each liquid was married to another. Red, green, and black smoke billowed over each vessel, filling the room with a scentless fog. The witch was still as her concoctions came to life, but her expression remained cold and hardened. She filled a pointed, sharp tool with the magical liquid and walked to the far corner of the room where a dark shadow huddled. 

Golden eyes split the shadow and scanned the room in fright. Scarletta knelt on the ground beside the young woman and inserted the syringe into her arm. The golden eyes winced slightly, but otherwise, were still. When the tool was empty, Scarletta rose and returned to the table to carefully rearrange the glasses.

 The young woman in the corner stood and stepped into the warm, yellow light that streamed through the dirty window behind her. Her dark hair framed her pale face and nearly blended in with her dark dress. The dress made her look remarkably plain, but her facial features were perfection, as if carefully sculpted by patient hands over many years. Her eyes – pained and sad – and brows were stunningly symmetrical, spaced evenly apart. Her brows arched neatly over her almond shaped eyes. They seemed to frame her small, straight nose just so, in the center of her face, just above her soft, pink lips. A sunken dimple emerged when her lips twisted to the side, but otherwise, her skin was smooth and ageless. Not a scar or imperfection marked her young, delicate, but rigged body.

 “Does it please you, Calliope?” Scarletta asked. She did not turn to the witch behind her. She worked at clearing the glasses and gathering the pages that were scattered on the table. “Does it satisfy you to disappoint me?”

 The witch behind her did not speak. She remained perfectly still, waiting to feel the awaiting wrath of her master. The pain was something she knew would follow after every failed attempt to destroy the kingdom of Librona.

 Scarletta, however, did not expect a response. She turned to the young witch, her wavy red hair twisting around her and caressing her frame. Her gaze narrowed on her witch. “You are careless,” she scolded. “If you continue like this, they will not show you mercy.”

 Calliope nodded without uttering a word. She forced her shoulders back, appearing confident as Scarletta looked her over, but her heart raced and her knees trembled under her master’s powerful glare. “I will be better,” she said softly.

 “I put a lot of time and effort into you,” Scarletta said, her lips pulling into a slight sneer. “I expect you to use yourself to your full potential. I am not finished with you yet, but I will throw you to the Nequam if you continue to fail me.”

 Calliope winced at the remark, stepping back slightly as if to catch herself from a fierce blow.

 A small smile pulled at her lips, and Scarletta turned back to the table, marrying the liquids together. “Destroy every last village,” she said, her voice stern. “Do not come back until the job is finished. Then, we will go to Alryn together, and I will tear King Sloan limb from limb.” Her voice hardened. “Spare your strength. Do not let me down.”

 Without a word, Calliope turned and let herself out of the dim room. Scarletta continued to busy herself with her potions for a moment, then turned and approached the nearby window. She smiled as she gazed out over the forest and toward the horizon. Though she could not see the village, dark plumes of smoke marred the sky from the earlier attack. There was no doubt in her mind that Calliope was far superior to her other witches, despite her carelessness. Soon, all of the kingdom of Librona would look the way Talmond did. Scarletta would have the revenge she waited for; Librona would pay for what they did to her.

 The door behind her opened, bringing Scarletta out of her thoughts. She did not turn to welcome her visitor, but spoke nonetheless.

 “After all these years, Mallius,” she said. “After all these wasted witches; it is finally happening. Librona will know my true power, and they will regret their actions.” She turned to the creature and smiled.

 Mallius returned her grin with his own rotted smile. His teeth, thought stained and decaying, were sharp and deadly. His black, hunched gargoyle-like form loomed in the doorway, just barely fitting through the frame. The castle interiors contained unusually large rooms to accommodate the creatures Scarletta called her Nequam, but Mallius was among the largest and most terrifying.

 “It is only a matter of time before Calliope finishes them off,” Mallius said, his voice deep and harsh, though his grin was sly and eager.

 “The spell is nearly perfect,” Scarletta said, returning to the table. Among the bottled potions lay her notes, scattered and worn. “She’s just the witch I need to complete this. The kingdom will not stand a chance.” She paused and her lips twisted to the side. “Pity to see her sacrificed, though. She is truly the best of all my creations.”

 “Her death is just,” Mallius reassured his master. “The kingdom will be yours. You will have no need for tools like her.”

 “She is but a pawn in this war,” Scarletta confirmed with a nod. “And Librona is only the beginning. I will have my revenge on what this world has done.”

 Mallius dug his class into the wooden floorboards. His black, leathery wings stretched out beside him, nearly filling the width of the room.

 “Patience, Mallius,” Scarletta said, her voice smooth and endearing toward her excited pet. She turned back to the window, imagining a barren and burnt kingdom, all finally hers. “Once Calliope returns, we will have our fun.”