Ever since Mist told him of her dreams, Tamotsu knew war was coming. He did not, however, think he would have to participate in it. Fate proved him wrong, as now he was trudging by Sir Alan's side, carrying the knight's sword and shield, his own slung on his back.

"I'm sorry you have to be here, kiddo. Remember to stick by me, or stay far away from the big clusters. The princess likes you too much for you to be hurt." The boy meekly nodded and, petrified, focused on the army quickly approaching them. An army of demons, the soldiers were informed, merciless beasts who had no will of their own.

Even though he should be proud to perish for his country, Tamotsu didn't want to die.

All too soon, the demon army reaches their small defenses, and the bloodbath begins. Tamotsu remembers bits and pieces of the fight; the strange feel of a real sword in his hand, the startling view of a demon twice as big as him looming above him. The dream-like sight of Mist, the princess, a heavy sword in her hand, tearing though demons as if they were butter, the anguished scream of Alan as his arm is cut by the cursed blade of a doppelganger, the barely-audible clang as Alan's shield and arm fell to the ground... The feel of tears on his face, blood in his eyes...

He truly wished he didn't remember as much as he did.

Lily, as the oldest child, and blessed by Rae with healing magic, was expected to help the Castle Cleric with healing during the war. The soldiers that came in scared her terribly, from missing limbs to ripped out innards, bashed out heads to soldiers wounded mentally... Books never managed to prepare the teen girl for the damage done to her mental health. She never knew limbs could be bent in such ways... Katie was too frightened to move from her spot in the bunker. What was going on outside? Would a demon come in and steal her? The blessed mark on her inner thigh glowed painfully, reminding her of what she could do. She ached to leave, to help who she could, but her legs couldn't move...

The first sign of battle to Mist was the moment her mother rushed into her room, Mist's sister Katie at her side. In a frenzy, her mother led her down the maze of hallways, and down the steps of the hidden bunker-

-leading her away, down flights of dark crumbling steps, her mother leading her into a pitch black abyss, where are we going mother? She asks, but -

-"War has begun, my lovely. We will be save inside here." Mist nervously clung to Katie in fright.

"Mother, where is my staff woman? I want her to be safe..." Katie had spoken up, her eyes trained towards the now locked door of the bunker. Poor dear Katie, with her eyes as red as blood and her cheeks blooming roses, how frightening could her eyes be that her only friend is her staff woman, Natasha? Mist thought that they liked each other in a deeper way besides friends, but she knew Katie would never admit it, being as shy as a wounded animal. Interrupting her thoughts, A scream filled the stuffy air as her mother was suddenly dragged away, out of the bunker's room and through a hidden door. Her sister, obedient, stayed in the bunker, but Mist ran like lightning after her mother-

-Her mother, leading, taken, sudden jerks as the black abyss is now a field, the field in front of her home, the castle, but the grass is red-

-The path led to the battlefield, the blood burning into the grass as it did to her brain. Her mother, in the arms of blackened demons, her mother, a pillar through her chest, her mother, oh, her mother-

-Is that Alan, her only guard, wandering in the shadows? Where is his arm?-

-Oh, Alan, dearest friend, what have they done to you?-

-The grass is red, her hands are red, the sword she now holds-

-When had she gotten a sword? How did she manage to swing it, she isn't strong-

-Child, listen to me-

-but who is she listening to?"-

-we are always with you-

-Her tiny hands moved on their own, taking down the masses in front of her, her vision blurring but her speed and agility growing. Her body was no longer her own-

-Do not fear-

-She would not fear. Her eyes closed, retaining some sort of innocence, as she calmly succumbed to the voice taking control.-

-Depending on us. Rest.-

-She did not open her eyes until the war was over, her clothed soaked with the blue blood of demons, stinking carcasses of man and demon alike. The two different colored liquids mingled and mixed, the field covered in sickening shades of red, blue, and purple. She tripped over a human arm, collapsing into a puddle. All survivors later confess that they could hear, clear as can be, the trembling scream of Mist, as she wept for her mother, her innocence, and the bodies around her. She stopped covering her marks with makeup. She felt as if the voice was linked to them, and knew that if the voice would protect her, the marks surely would as well. Even after everything, long after that day, she still retained that hope.

12,14

You only realize how much you truly loved them until you lose them for eternity.

Alden never thought of this, when he proposed under the waterfall, never thought of her dying before him. She was so young, had barely hit 30... They had talked just days ago of visiting the kingdom next door. Eda, his Queen, the woman he loved for years and years.... He swore to protect her, and here he sat, at her grave, his three daughters shedding tears over the mother they lost, their beautiful baby boy wailing in the wet nurse's arms, calling for his mother... Alden had been sitting there for hours, and soon his children had retreated to bed. He never spoke. His guards soon left to deal with the casualty count.

His Queen, killed in front of his youngest child... Of their youngest child.

As the sky clouded, preparing for rain to wash the blood out of the field, Alden finally gave in and wept for his dead wife.

Days after the war, on a clear-skied night, Mist's father visited her room. She was curled up on the bed, the blue pendant necklace held tightly in her hands. For a moment, Alden simply sat beside her and ran his fingers through her hair, taming the wild locks. Slowly, Mist relaxed into the affection, rolling over to place her head on his lap.

"Do you want to train with the squires?" They locked eyes.

"Why?"

Alden turned his gaze away, his expression nervous. "Your marks are of blessings from gods of war and courage. I thought you might want to train. You seem naturally talented, and although I know it isn't widely accepted that a girl should become a knight, I don't want to keep you away from something you wish to do. I saw you fight during the war, I saw your potential." Mist absentmindedly played with the blue pendant necklace Alden had taken from Eda, now secured around his arm.

"I want to."

Alden nodded, gently cradling her close. "The knights in charge of training are ruthless."

"I want them to be. Tell them not to treat me differently."

"Anything for you, my lovely."

Tamotsu, now that the war had been dealt with, was finally able to begin his weaponry training. His teacher was Sir Illian, a tough middle aged man, and taught with ferocity. It was nothing compared to war, and all the other squires seemed to agree with him. They, however, all understood that Sir Illian deserved respect, and so they obediently listened as he prattled on about lunging.

Until a certain Princess strode into the room.

Mist moved confidently, even though the sword in her hand swayed by her untrained hand, dragging lightly on the ground. "My father said you could train me."

Sir Illian laughed, but gave a respectful bow. "Your Highness, forgive me, but I do not have time to play these games. Run along and continue your spinning lessons with your sisters, I'm sure their worried-" Mist stopped his ramble by shoving a sealed paper into his face. Reluctantly, he opened it, took a few minutes to digest it, and finally rested his eyes on her. "A blessed child." Sir Illian said it with such hostility that the squires firmly believed he would kill her on the spot. "Very well then. Stand besides Gwylin, and listen carefully."