A few months had passed...

In the icy mountains of Elyssium, known as Winter's Veil, stood the Veil of Oaths-a magical castle hidden by fog and snow. The castle was home to some of the strongest witches and warlocks in Elyssium, with their influence extending to the far corners of the world. They remained in the shadows, only interacting with society when necessary. The coven was led by a witch queen and included eight powerful users, each heading their own faction of followers.

Cassandra had finally settled in and was introduced to the other members of the coven. However, she was treated differently. Instead of training with the other witches, the witch queen, Rosellia, had ordered her to train with each faction leader individually. When Cassandra asked why, Rosellia had only responded with a question of her own:

"Don't you want to become stronger?"

Rosellia had since left for a few days to attend to diplomatic matters, leaving Cassandra in the hands of the faction leaders for her training. Or rather, to survive their training.

Slash... SLASH!

"D-Damn!" Cassandra groaned as she rolled onto the ground, her body covered in dust. She was in one of the castle's chambers-stone walls, high ceilings, and spacious enough for their intense training sessions. Kneeling, Cassandra panted heavily, trying to gather herself.

"Oh, come on. Is that all you've got?"

A man's voice echoed through the chamber. Stepping into view was Cullin, one of the coven's eight faction leaders. Dressed in an intricate red suit with gold patterns over a white long-sleeved shirt, he looked both dapper and dangerous. His shoulder-length hair framed his face, and despite being in his mid-thirties, his sharp eyes gleamed with youthful enthusiasm. On his hands, he wore gloves with nails as sharp as knives, with small hooks at the ends. Known as the White Crow, Cullin's love for chaos often led him to participate in dangerous missions. His belief in the beauty of destruction made him unpredictable, and he was also the coven's tailor.

Cullin raised his hand and harshly swiped downward, causing thin, nearly invisible wires attached to his fingertips to lash out.

Cassandra barely noticed the movement in time and leaped out of the way. The floor where she had been standing was sliced with precision. She flipped into the air, trying to avoid the next attack.

"Olih Eugisrep," Cullin intoned ominously. The wires, which had begun to retract, suddenly surged toward Cassandra again, moving with unnatural speed.

Cassandra thought quickly, thrusting her hands in front of her. Energy sparked from her fingertips as red lightning lashed out, attacking the threads and dispelling most of them.

"You missed some..." Cullin said nonchalantly, and more threads wrapped tightly around her leg.

"Crap!" Cassandra exclaimed, feeling herself yanked out of the air and dragged toward the ground. As she braced for impact, she squeezed her eyes shut. Then, suddenly, everything stopped. After a few tense seconds, she cautiously opened her eyes. She was suspended inches from the ground, frozen in place. Before she could react, her body was jerked upright, and she found herself hovering upside down in front of Cullin.

"You got distracted... again," Cullin remarked, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Haven't you been paying attention to your training with the others?"

Cassandra's face reddened with anger.

"Hey! I'm trying, okay?!" she shouted, struggling against the threads holding her in place.

Cullin sighed, sounding bored. "You've said that so many times, you're practically a broken record at this point." He yawned and glanced at his sharp fingertips, clearly unimpressed.

"Well, what can-can you just let me down now?!" Cassandra demanded, her body swinging side to side as she tried to free herself.

Almost immediately, the threads released her, and she hit the ground with a hard THUMP.

Groaning, Cassandra rubbed her aching head as she scrambled to her feet, glaring daggers at Cullin.

"YOU PRICK! WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!" she yelled, her anger boiling over.

Cullin, however, was unfazed. He waved his hand dismissively as he walked past her. "Go bother the others..."

He glanced over his shoulder, his voice laced with indifference. "Call for me when you've actually improved."

Cassandra groaned in frustration. "You're worse than Marie!"

Cullin laughed, his voice echoing in the chamber. "That's a lie, and you know it."

Cassandra just groan in frustration again and left in the chamber. She just started to walk towards the chamber's door so she can go and get herself clean.

A few moments later...

Cassandra walked through the castle halls, passing a few coven members going about their day. She stopped in front of a wooden door, a Roman numeral six carved into it. Similar doors were scattered throughout the castle, each marked with a different number. Some members speculated that the numbers signified the leaders' power levels or the order in which the queen had recruited them into the coven. It was all just speculation. Cassandra hesitated for a moment but knocked on the door.

Soon, a woman with smooth brown skin and short, curly dark hair opened the door. Her eyes resembled polished jade. She wore a dress with a corset that accentuated her figure, her attire distinctly different from the rest of the coven members, who dressed in traditional garments featuring the coven's insignia. This marked her as someone of higher rank-a lieutenant. Her name was Tabia. She looked almost surprised to see Cassandra standing there, punctual.

"Ah, right on time," Tabia remarked, opening the door wider and stepping aside. "Go on, don't keep her waiting."

Cassandra nodded, moving past her and down the hall. She passed a few rooms before reaching the last door and knocked. After a brief pause, a woman's voice called from the other side.

"Come in."

Opening the door, Cassandra entered a large room filled with red vials of liquid, shelves lined with ancient books, and a laboratory counter. A bit farther in, a large window overlooked a lush garden. Standing by the counter was a tall woman with brown skin and shoulder-length curly hair, her eyes a deep red. She wore a black dress adorned with intricate metallic patterns around her waist and shoulders. In one hand, she held a vial of the same red liquid found throughout the room, and in the other, she wrote something in a journal. This was Liria, the Blood Priestess, and the sixth leader of the coven. Liria glanced up, smiling softly when she saw Cassandra.

"My, you're actually early today," Liria said.

"Yeah..." Cassandra responded, her tone heavy with something unsaid. She thought about her training with Cullin, well not just that but all of it in general. Liria noticed and set down the vial, closing her journal.

"I see you need to talk about something. Come," Liria gestured toward the large window pane, leading Cassandra to a door in the corner that opened into the garden.

As they stepped outside, the atmosphere shifted, feeling more like a forest than a part of the icy mountain castle. The air was warmer, and the plants thrived in this enchanted space, protected from the harsh cold outside.

Liria sat on the grass and gestured for Cassandra to sit across from her. Cassandra complied, settling down as her mind raced. Liria quietly looked at her.

"Now, what's wrong?" Liria asked, and Cassandra immediately burst out.

"Cullin really knows how to piss me off!" Liria was taken aback by her small outburst, even though it was to be expected. "This training is so frustrating! I feel like I'm not learning anything!"

Liria sat still, raising her hand to silence her. Cassandra immediately stopped. "Breathe."

Cassandra closed her mouth, shut her eyes, and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

Meanwhile, as Cassandra and Liria continued their conversation, in another part of the castle...

Cullin strode through the long, narrow halls, his red suit striking against the cold, muted stone walls. As he passed, members of the coven quickly moved aside, bowing respectfully. Cullin, unfazed, kept walking until he reached a wooden door etched with intricate symbols. He pushed it open, revealing a lavishly decorated room, already occupied by others.

"Ah, Cullin. We were just talking about you," said a calm, monotonous voice. It belonged to Morgana.

Morgana, the Wolf, was the fourth coven leader. Known for her cold demeanor and ruthless combat style, it was her sharp intellect and strategic mind that truly set her apart. As the coven's lawyer and diplomat, she was largely responsible for their resources and political connections.

Cullin shrugged as he moved past her. "I can't even say she's gotten better."

"I see..." Morgana replied, her voice still flat, showing no reaction.

"Oh, come on, she couldn't have done that bad!" came a deep, lazy voice from the far end of the room.

There, half-illuminated by flickering candles, sat Markus, the fifth coven leader. His robes were worn loosely, one arm bare and scarred from countless battles. His long, spiky hair was tied in a messy ponytail, and stubble shadowed his face. The smell of alcohol wafted from the gourd flask he casually sipped from.

"Markus, drinking in the middle of the day? Really?" Cullin jabbed.

Markus chuckled. "Whoa, don't snap at me. Have a drink, settle down," he said, offering the gourd lazily.

Cullin rolled his eyes but sank onto a nearby couch, sighing. "Just wait till you have to deal with her," he muttered, glaring at Markus.

Markus smirked, taking another swig. "You worry too much."

"Markus is right. You need to relax a bit," came a soft, gentle voice from the shadows.

Another figure stepped forward. Her robes were more intricate than the others, a unique blend of whites and blues instead of the standard coven blacks and reds. A delicate veil covered the back of her head and the length of her long hair. A blindfold concealed her eyes, marking her as someone distinct in both appearance and rank.

Circe, the Seer, the second leader of the coven, was the right-hand woman to the Witch Queen, Rosellia. More often than not, they were always together. Circe would relay her predictions to Rosellia, advising on what the coven needed to do to succeed or prosper. Despite her position as a coven leader, she had no followers of her own-only effigies that performed basic tasks.

"Circe..." Cullin said, a hint of curiosity in his tone. "You're willing to vouch for the girl?"

Circe nodded. "The girl has potential. Continue her training-you might be surprised."

This piqued Cullin's interest, raising his eyebrow. "Seen something interesting?"

Circe shrugged and replied, "Who knows? The future is full of possibilities."

Cullin chuckled at her cryptic response.

Morgana cleared her throat. "Circe, have you heard anything from our Lady?"

At the back of the room, Markus took a large swig from his flask, equally curious to hear the answer. Cullin stopped chuckling, also waiting for Circe's response.

"Yes, she's made it safely. Soon, we'll receive our orders to move out," Circe said calmly.

Morgana nodded. "Very well. If you'll excuse me, I'm taking my leave."

Morgana exited the room, leaving Cullin, Markus, and Circe behind. Markus cleared his throat.

"So, Circe, what about our lieutenants? How are they doing?" Cullin chimed in. "I'm curious as well."

A month ago, after Cassandra's arrival, the lieutenants of Cullin, Markus, and Marie had been sent on a mission to Monnestare. Reports had surfaced that witches and magical creatures were being captured by Hunters and transported to the city of Eldoria. The Witch Queen herself had instructed them to stay away from the city, as she had plans for it that were still hidden from the coven leaders.

"They're fine. They've intercepted the prisoners," Circe said confidently, her voice as steady as stone.

"I see..." Markus said, sounding relieved, his tone more relaxed. "That's good."

"My~ Markus, don't you trust your dear lieutenant?" Cullin teased with a sly smirk, causing Markus to nearly choke on his drink, flustered by the implication.

"I-It's not like that!" Markus stammered.

Cullin chuckled. "Whatever you say!~"

Circe joined in with a soft chuckle.

"N-Not you too, Circe!" Markus was now completely flustered.

To be continued...