Walking to the end of the rug, each visitor fell to their knees, even the boy who had learned from previous transgressions. 

Every, the only one left standing, walked up dress streaming as it rippled against her legs, “father, it is very nice to see you… our travels went well, but I am so happy to be home” the girl’s voice had changed from bubbled to stale pride, filled with a sense of duty, and wealth. 

Al had to rack his mind, had he said anything awful to the princess in the past, something that may warrant the removal of his head? Surely not, right? Perhaps now they might be friends, he could become some rich knight, a royal bodyguard, all fat and happy in the castle. Of course, he would one day send money back to Darton, and anyone else who may accept it. 

“Father?” The girl’s voice came and went, breaking the boy’s musing, a shadow sat upon the throne, dressed in robes of darkness, the king shifted but did not move, attuned to his seat. 

“Yes, what is it, why have you come?” a voice rasped with air and twine, “um excuse me father, but you know why we are here, we, uh, we’ve been planning for a year now, say you haven’t forgotten?” The princess said, stepping one-foot forwards, dainty hands across the breast, a grunt halted Every’s advancement. 

“Yet you bring devils, sickly, stinking, demons to our kingdom, to my home” the king rasped, while Galena started to stand, Every rising upon her toes, “no father, what is this, are you unwell?” she asked, hurried with breath, “ah ha, you were never like your mother, no fooling you… you were never like… us…” the shadow fell, sliding down into a puddle, catching even the hardest of warriors with a gasp upon their throat. 

Scratching, a clanking of metal upon stone, where an object lay to rest, rolling across the floor, a crown groveling in the dust, chipped and dented. Every gasped as her father slumped, torches roared to life around them, and from the unholy reddened shadows came a vulture of great height and cunning. 

It slunk out from behind the throne, claw like fingers tracing cold steel, as the red light cast everything in a vile afterlife. Multiple shadows appeared from behind, morphing, shifting, they appeared on either side, fanning out, a small army swathed in deepened cloth, all dyed to darkness, specters with sashes around the waist. The only color was a red symbol, a mark depicting a hand within an eye, upon veils of darkness which clad the beings faces. 

A whisper from behind signaled the worst, although Al had not figured it out yet. “The… apparition’s hands…” They all stood instantly following the princess's shrill cry, who’s speeding advances were halted by a robed arm, Galena stepped between them and the throne. 

“Oh my princess, much have you grown,” the bird screeched, pushing out a wheezing laugh from behind a large hooked nose, crackled teeth emanating from tight folds of flesh, framed by bushes of spiny white cascading down robes of blackened feathers. 

“Ornio?” Galen asked breathlessly, sheathed swords groaning gritty from behind, the witch’s warriors began advancing, Al drew his own blade, although a bit later than the rest. 

“What have you done to him!” cried the princess, before the creature pressed a skeletal finger to his thin lips in response, the army of ghosts advanced one step, not weapons yet visible. Yellowed eyes shone out from the darkness, watching them like only a hawk could, a hunter. 

“Ornio… no” Every fell to her knees, subtle sobs gracing her cheeks, “how could you do this to our family, to my family, we’ve known each other for so long…” she cried “oh quiet girl” the monster wheezed, rounding the throne as the king coughed and sputtered, melting in a bowl of metal. 

“So, the king’s advisor decides he wants to rule, perhaps you got tired of doing nothing” said Galena through gritted teeth, air growing dense around her, nearly swirling within the still chamber.           

“Well, you see little witches, Alexx was weak, and old, and patient, far too long did he sit upon this throne, and grovel, praying for peace and resolution. Without taking advantage of the massive wealth and armies he commanded as king, the land the gods gave him, which he did not earn, all squandered.” 

The vulture wheezed, nearly laughing from his shaking robes, “he couldn’t even use his bloodline properly, magic is never something to hide, or to shun, or to forget, mana is our greatest power, our greatest weapon, our LEGACY!” Ornio shouted, as the warriors raised their weapons, the AP hands stepped forwards in turn. 

“So yes, Mandragon the betrayer is what they shall call me, the one who took power into his hands and made something of it, of course power and coin, see the apparitions don’t really like humans, funny thing that is, a fair price was all I had to offer, and the warmongers were practically licking at my heels, the war nations who only feed on blood and terror after you all left them with nothing. After our agreement, I gained command of the hand, and well you know how that ended, all so we can steal the little queenling… their stipulation not mine.” Ornio said, gesturing to the AP hand around him, “I don’t really understand it, but if your magic will please them, then more power to me that is.” 

He wheezed once more, practically rounding to the king’s lap. “My magic? What magic? Why?” Every asked, confused, head rising as her allies slowly advanced, Al came up behind the girl, his blade to cheek, poised. 

“Well, that my dear, is a secret” the advisor said with a hushed silver tongue. “We must use our gifts, all our gifts, or we shall fall to nothing” the bird relinquished, stepping out into the light, bestowing his gnarled visage upon them, as boned hands swept forth from a sea of shadow. 

Every person in the room readied themselves differently, Sonne with her large blade moving forwards, Every wailing hysterically, Galena’s eyes growing wide acting as a barrier between the rest, with the shade nowhere to be seen. Al was ready, slightly happier than he probably should be, the boy had never been more ready in his life, these weren’t mana fueled monsters, these were real evil people, with real weakness, and he was hungry to protect his friends.

In an instant, red sprayed the floor, pink, pale, wrinkled chunks of flesh, showered royal linens. Skin erupted, bathing the vulture in a rain of his own blood, lacerations slicing up his hands, and boney arms, alternating as the man was cut by some invisible force. 

Yet Ornio wasn’t struck, quite the opposite, he laughed, laughed while his arms were torn apart, as if taking pleasure in pain. Until the blood stopped, held in the air, glittering jewels of crimson stuck in place, plugged to the sky, a chandelier of agony. Even the purple raven was stunned at the sight, stunned until an incredible force swept through the lot of them, shot from splayed fingers, blood rocketed out in a cone, launching through the chambers, a shockwave marching its way down the aisle. 

Force cracked stone, shattered windows, boom, boom, boom, came the stomping of a giant display of power. The wind was knocked from Al’s chest as his breastplate caved in then back out, the boy skidded backwards on soles of steel, stopping fiercely within the rug as it coiled around him, he rolled, returning to ankles now touching his bottom. Sonne was knocked back with him, traveling less on weight alone, she returned to knee, blade gripped vertically as a crutch. 

Al wiped blood from his forehead, tightening knuckles around his sword, peering through a curtain of greasy hair, the image of Galena and the untouched princess held true. The witch’s nose bled, she leaned upon some invisible wall of air, a barrier guarding from the blast. 

“Still as strong as ever Galen, is to be expected from a royal court mage I suppose, yet your air has gotten a little stale wouldn’t you say?” Ornio whispered, his blood trickling against the floor, padding amongst the carpet as it dripped and pooled, “what is this foul mana! Blood?! You cannot be serious, this is unreal, this is… unnatural” shouted the purpled woman, who held her hands out defensively, staunching the blood from her nose with a sleeve. 

Subtle plinking broke the silence, where finally another noise caught their attention, although no one dared turn. Boots shuffled and clanked behind them, metal creaked, the door behind now locked and guarded by more of the apparition’s hand.