Oriana expected her final death to be quite violent. 

She thought of numerous, perhaps countless ways she could die at this point. She imagined her death to be filled with strife, to be filled with pain. She could see herself falling off Altan’s train, her body ripped to shreds as the hefty train sliced through her body like a chainsaw. She could see herself burning to a crisp, all the way down to ashes after struggling to tend to the furnace. She could even see herself spontaneously succumbing to her own injuries, the magic that Altan painstakingly used to bring her back to life failing. So her soul being ripped apart by Shadows wasn’t exactly unexpected at this point anymore for her. Death of all forms loomed over her, but…

She wasn’t ready to die again. She could die in the most horrific way imaginable, after she knew her daughter was safe and sound.

So as the Shadows pounced over her body, she quickly snatched the rusted knife from her pocket. She stabbed the knife threateningly towards the Shadows, as though she was ready to slice through their foggy, incomprehensible bodies like tissue paper. This action, although not a direct threat to the looking shadows, seemed to stop them right in their paths. Their hungry eager eyes seem to stare threateningly at the top of the rusted knife. For the moment anyways.

Without a second thought, without a single idea or plan in her mind, she flicked the rusted knife to the shadows, in a last ditch effort to protect herself from her impending doom. As soon as the rusted, battened knife left her hand…

It lit up in a bundle of brilliant, bright flames. Like a giant fireball, flames encompassed the knife as it flew past the ravenous Shadows. The Shadows instantly began to scurry away at the sight of the scary flame, as though it was a giant sun that was hurling towards the surface of the world. 

“Go on! Get away!” Altan suddenly snapped. More flames began to encompass the forest. A few Shadows that were caught in the crossfire were burned right to a crisp. Their foggy edges seemed to curl in fear as the flames wrapped around their bodies, turning them into nothing more than ashes to be blown away in the wind. 

Altan instantly rushed to her side, skidding ever so carelessly across the garden as he attempted to lift the scared woman from the dirt floor “Are you ok? Are you hurt?”

“N-No I’m not ok-my-my daughter!” Oriana instantly snapped back, hee voice growing shaky and frantic “S-she’s-Oh M-Magdalia she’s-“

“I need you to calm down, alright?” Altan softened his voice as much as he possibly could, still keeping a firmness within his tone “You’re attracting too many shadows-“

“I DON’T CARE!” She snapped at the very top of her lungs, nearly howling in fear and anxiety “I NEED TO SEE IF SHE'S ALIVE!!”

She couldn’t calm down, even if her life depended on it. Her body shook with vigorous fear, like a tattered leaf blowing into the wind. Her dead, grey eyes remained wide as ever. Even as her eyes nearly bore a hole straight through Altan, she couldn’t focus on a single aspect of him. Rather, she couldn’t focus on anything at all. 

Except the fact that her dear daughter might have been dead.

Aktan suddenly slapped his hands around her shivering shoulders. His black, glossy fingernails pressed intently into the cloth of her dress, as he tugged her right to his face  

“I need you to calm down!” He yelled firmly into her fearful face “There’s far too many shadows now! You’re-you are going to get Mazel and Lucian hurt at this rate! And your daughter!”

It was only then her empty eyes seemed to quiver in recognition. She tore her attention momentarily to the forest behind Altan, where dozens upon dozens of Shadows still remained. Although they weren’t nearly as ravenous as the dark creatures that chased Oriana through her small commune, they seemed more than eager to rip her soul right from her body. At the right time, of course. And knowing she was attracting such dangerous creatures to Mazel and Lucian, children no less…

It quickly snapped her out of her delirious, fear driven haze.

All she could do was nod ever so weakly, letting her stiff body practically melt within Aktan’s tight grip “O-ok…”

Alarm kept his grip on her for a moment more, before he carefully lifted his arms. Oriana’s shoulders instantly drooped down in response, her limbs feeling as loose as jelly on a hot, dry day. The man in the red coat however, took little mind to the woman’s weak response. He instead picked up yet another sturdy, straight branch, and briefly snapped his fingers to light it up in a brilliant bright flame

“Lead the way. But please, be quick,” he said firmly. 

Oriana gave a firmer, but slow nod, as she rose up to her feet. He briefly scraped the thick,  down kiss off of her hands and dress, before she carefully made her way through her former home. She kept her head strictly straight, refusing to let her eyes veer to the side. Lest she see more destruction of her home. And the bodies of her coworkers. 

“Just look straight ahead, my  house should be this way…” Oriana murmured weakly.

Amgen responded with a soft nod, as he carefully followed the stiff, empty woman. It was perhaps a curious sight to see, so many bodies thrown about like children’s toys. And judging by how the shadows were only keeping to the forest…he could only assume that the bodies were picked clean of their souls. Quite a bit ago, judging from how stiff and blue the bodies appeared.  

“No wonder there are so many shadows in this area…” Altan commented “ There are so many…empty souls around…”

“Y-yeah…” Oriana swallowed thickly “It looks like…All the lanterns were smashed in,”

Although Oriana attempted to fight the urge to tear her attention away, she let her eyes shift briefly to one of the many charred cottages that were sprinkled across the forest opening. The shingles of the cottage were blackened to a crisp, and the stone walls of the building were stained with soot. Most interestingly however…is that the lanterns that lined the cottage were ever so deliberately cracked. At first glance of course, she assumes that they simply shattered from the sheer heat of the fire, but as she inspected further…only the front of the lantern was caved in. Not the sides. 

“I noticed that too. The darkness is guaranteed to make these Shadows far more brazen to attack people…” Altan commented 

“Or to distract everyone in the servants quarters while the thieves went to the estate to ransack it…”

Altan raised his brow “You think it may be a robbery?”

“It’s a theory for now but…” she paused “It would make sense to steal from a Baron who lives in the middle of the forest far away from any city, so..far away from the holy guards…from what’s I remember, the team was big, big enough to distract us servants while ransacking the estate,” 

“If that were true then…what would have been the purpose to slaughter everyone?” Aktan asked, “That seems quite…thorough…”

“That’s because…” Oriana gave a shaky, loud sigh “No one can report anything if…everyone is…dead…”

Oriana instantly quickened her pace. She immediately began to swing her arms forward, and let her feet nearly glide across the damp grass as she strutted forward. Altan, unfortunately for her, quickly took notice of her increasingly fearful behavior 

“Calm down, take a-“

“I-I’m not doing anything stupid, I promise,” she released a long, breathy sigh, tilting her eyes ever so carefully to the side “And even if I was planning to, can you blame me?”

“No…I suppose I can’t…”

All Oriana could do at this point was walk forward, not daring to look backwards nor to her side. A glance to her left would have greeted her with the charred remains of one of her beloved coworkers. A brief look to the right would have shown her the burnt devastation of the garden. But, when she looked forward…she saw the remains of the place she used to call home. 

Inspite of the numerous burnt cottages that littered the forest, her house in particular appeared somewhat unscathed.  Although the thick, wooden shingles of the roof were blackened softly from the flames, and the  wooden, beaten exterior was lightly coated in a layer of soot, her house was still standing. 

She found herself stepping precariously up the steps, as though she was approaching some sort of haunted house that was ready to swallow her entire body and soul. When she finally reached the door, she found herself staring intently into the sigh above the doorknob.

Residence of Oriana and Selene Penrose

Those few words meant so much to her years and years ago, when she was first taken under the wing of the Underwood estate. Now…it was just a distant, almost alien feeling to her. 

The feeling of being at home. 

She released a heavy, shaky sigh as her hands clutched the doorknob. She momentarily wrapped her grey, cold hands around the equally cold metal doorknob, staying only still like a statue. Before Altan could gently prod her, she swiftly snapped the door open. 

The house was a mess, to say the least. Furniture was tossed about on the floor like pieces of trash left to dance in the wind. The wallpaper was peeling aggressively off the surface of the wall, eager to join the pile of broken picture frames and furniture that was piled in the middle of the floor. Even the floor itself, once a smoothy stained oak, was dangerously jutting upwards in jagged pieces. Ready to stab her again, she thought. 

She wandered forward, keeping her hand close to her chest “It looks the same as I left it…”

As Oriana quickly made her way to the kitchen, Aktan found himself carefully inspecting the formally cozy, small home. It appeared like any other cottage he had ever seen: A bit cramped, but filled with countless memories regardless. One of the many memories that took his attention however, was a small round picture frame hung on the entrance of the home. Although the glass was smashed on the lower left hand corner, Altan could still make the general details of the image. 

Oriana was rather easy to identify. Her long, black hair was draped messily across her chest. Her clothes seemed equally messy, her thick shirt wrinkled to the point where Altan assumed that the woman had never used a clothes iron in her life. In spite of her messy appearance, her narrowed, lavender eyes were full of life. Her eyes were crinkled lovingly with a smile, even as she wrapped her arms around an unsmiling, frowning teen. 

The young teen didn’t look a day over 15, and seemed to be shrouded in an aura of negativity. A thick, firm frown sat upon her pale face, and her wine colored hair hid the expression of her sharply narrowed eyes. It seemed like more than anything the young teen was ready to burn the photography with nothing more than her angry, unamused eyes. 

The girl didn’t look happy standing next to Oriana at all. Like it was a chore. 

Altan sighed and tore his attention from the fading photograph. He carefully wandered into the kitchen, the clattering of pans and plates filling his ears. There, amidst the broken remnants of the once warm kitchen, Oriana was frantic. Her hands moved in wild, desperate arcs as she flung open cabinets, snapped open doors, and tore everything and anything she could to the side. 

"Oriana," Altan began, his voice steady but curious. "What happened?"

Oriana’s head snapped toward him, her grey eyes now filled with immense, undying fear. Her breath came in shallow bursts as she stammered, "M-my daughter, she’s-

“She’s gone”