Calliope walked all day through the forest; images of the battle continued to play through her head. The scenes jumped from one to another in rapid succession; arrows blazed through the night sky. Soldiers rushed at her with their swords drawn. Orange and yellow flames took hold of homes, unforgiving hands tearing apart their lives. The world flickered in the warm glow of the chaos that followed the witch. When it got to be too much, she busied herself with her magic, letting her spells chase the critters that darted among the low branches and exposed roots of the forest. She picked red and blue berries from the bushes she passed, tossing them one by one into her mouth. They were soft, but tasteful. She grabbed them by the handfuls and pocketed the extra for later.

The sun dipped quickly behind the horizon, the last of its rays lost amongst the cover of branches. Feeling her body grow tired, she sat against the trunk of a tree. She picked up tiny twigs around her, throwing them into a careless pile and pointed a finger, igniting a magical fire. She curled up on the pine needled forest floor and stared into the flickering flames. Sleep hovered over her as if waiting for the flames to engulf her like they did to the innocent people she attacked. She turned her back to the flames and stared into the darkness, listening to the nocturnal sounds of the forest; the chirp of the crickets, the eerie call of an owl, the soft night breeze rustling the leaves in the trees. The soft, night melody whispered to her until her eyes finally fell to their enchanting song.

The morning sun managed to find its way through the branches; slender rays of light kissed her eyelids and brought a comforting warmth upon her face. Calliope pushed herself off the ground and stretched her arms above her. She let a loud yawn escaped her throat as she let her arms drop back down dramatically. She fished the berries out of her pocket and popped a couple in her mouth. She stared at the remains of her fire, listening to the forest birds chirp their good mornings to each other. The sun continued to move slowly through the branches while Calliope sat, lost in thought. The shadows of the trees hovered over her and began to stretch, signaling the progressing day. Calliope obeyed the shadows, getting to her feet and continuing her journey through the forest once more.

Calliope continued through the forest for another day, her mind wandering off on it's own. She thought about the people she hurt and the friends she hoped she could make in her new life. She watched the carefree life of the woodpecker as it flew from tree to tree in search for his meal, envious of its freedom.

Early in her short life, Calliope spent time with another witch of Scarletta's, before Scarletta killed her. The witch often told her stories about a wizard known as Samus who had betrayed Scarletta. The stories differed each day; one day the kingdom found him and burnt him at the stake. Another day, Scarletta captured him and fed him to her Nequam. The witch described these stories in vivid, gruesome detail, giving Calliope nightmares.

The few moments Calliope had to herself, she looked into the forest where the wizard once made his escape. As she grew more and more distant to Scarletta, she found herself thinking of the wizard more and more, and when her stomach twisted in fear at the idea of escaping, she reminded herself of one of the many possibilities that the wizard could have suffered. She did not doubt that she, too, would suffer the same fate, so she clung to her life with Scarletta.

She couldn't stop the wizard from invading her mind; a mysterious shadow that peaked her interest. Surely he walked through the same forest, suffering the same war in his mind as she did. He would find himself emerging from the treeline, overlooking the vast kingdom; a symbol of freedom. He wouldn't draw attention to himself by moving right into the city. No, he was safest just outside, keeping to himself. He would simply be known as the strange old man just outside the city, and no one would bother a private man such as that.

Her thoughts were cut short by the sound of thundering hooves and the sharp bark of dogs on a hunt. The voices of strange men shouted to each other in excitement as they pursued their chase. Panicked, she climbed up the nearest tree, getting as high as she could, desperate to remain hidden, and watched as chestnut and dappled horses bearing their riders galloped below in search of a little red fox. Black noses followed an invisible path; their barks led the way through the trees with the horses hot on their heels.

When they passed and Calliope could no longer hear the hunt, she hopped out of the tree and continued on, anxious to get out of the gloomy forest. The trees began to thin and as the sun lowered itself in the sky, Librona's rolling hills finally revealed themselves to her. In the distance, Calliope could see a small house, its pastures dotted with sheep and cows and rows of corn and crops. Dirt roads twisted their way through the landscape, each leading to its own destination. She kept away from the dirt road, hoping to keep out of sight. She traveled through the tall grass of the uninhabited parts of the kingdom. Grasshoppers bounded onto her dress, hitching a ride for a time before they bounded off again, lost in the weeds and grass. She didn’t know where she was going or what she would do, but she was careful not to return to any of the villages she had attacked.

Alryn, the kingdom's capital, was the closest to her, and she decided to make that her destination, if only for the night until she was ready to continue her journey, hoping to make her way towards the sea and following it to the next kingdom at Librona's south.

Alryn was a strong, thriving city; its inhabitants busied themselves each day at the market, buying, selling, and trading their goods in order to survive, and she felt certain she would remain unnoticed for the night. Surely the busy citizens would overlook her. Calliope saw the castle's stony towers peeking over the horizon. It watched over the city and the kingdom from the hillside.

Calliope came upon a stone bridge which curved its way over the calm Caseitas river. She crossed, taking a moment to admire the tiny fish that jumped out to catch the hovering flies. The sun bathed the land in gold as the last of its light shone upon the earth. She made it to a cobblestone road where she passed horse drawn carriages entering and leaving the kingdom's capital. Wooden homes and shops began to dot each side of the road, getting closer and closer together until the road split, twisting through Alryn in two directions. King Sloan’s castle watched from its hilltop as she entered the city's walls.

She made her way to the center of the city and smiled carefully at the merchants who asked her to buy their goods. Children ran past, laughing and playing with a straggly dog. A man played a fife enthusiastically while passer-by tossed gold coins into an old, wrinkled hat that lay upside down on the cold, hard ground.

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She smiled, envisioning herself living her own life in a town like this. It was so much better than that dark, dreary castle, existing only to kill, killing only for revenge. She continued to walk, aware of all going on around her, yet the citizens were oblivious to her. She reached the far end of the town square and stopped at a road that continued to twist through the city. Calliope followed it with her eyes as best as she could; it seemed to lead towards the castle. Soldiers stood in the road and talked casually with each other. Not wanting to draw attention to herself, she avoided that road and walked down a narrower one that wound between stores and homes.

The sun officially set below the horizon, darkening the city and emptying the streets. As Calliope continued to walk, she found that the road to be a dead end. Calliope turned around to head back, but a man leaning against a house off to the side of the road caught her attention. He noticed her looking at him and flashed a toothless smile before approaching her.

“Well, ‘ello there,” he said to her. His words slurred and his breath was foul. “I ‘aven’t sheen you ‘round ‘ere ‘fore. Whatsher name?”

Calliope ignored the slurring man and walked past, but he followed right on her heels.

“’srude to g’nore people,” he said, chuckling to himself.

Calliope quickened her pace, but the man matched her speed. She broke into a run as the man chased her down the road. Calliope felt his grimy fingers snag a fistful of her dress and she fell to her knees. She pushed herself up quickly, spinning on her heels and released an invisible force wave at him. He shouted in surprise and fell backwards from the impact. Calliope wasted no time and hurried away, back towards the city’s center. The man pushed himself to his feet and continued to chase after her.

“Witch!” he yelled in warning, his hands cupped around his lips. “Witch! She’s a witch!”

Calliope spun around, raising her arms and thrusting another ball of energy towards him. He ducked, letting the magic rush past him and into one of the taverns, causing it to explode in a fiery blaze. The women and children who shopped and played in the streets shouted and cried to one another in terror and hurried to their homes, hoping to escape the witch's threat. Doors slammed, protecting those inside, while others opened to reveal men ready to defend their homes.

Unaware of the chaos that brewed below, King Sloan sat alone at a long table, tattered papers spread out before him. His head rested in the palm of his hand and his eyes fluttered. The room’s wooden double doors flew open as one of the guards rushed in. King Sloan jumped in surprised and got to his feet, his big, grey eyebrows knit together at the outburst.

“My Lord,” the man shouted, hurrying to his king. “The town is being attacked. A young woman who is believed to be the witch that attacked Talmond.”

The king gathered the papers on the table in a hurry. “Scarletta’s been sending her witches out more frequently,” the king mumbled to himself. He turned to his guard. “This needs to be stopped once and for all. Kill the witch. Don’t let her escape and return to Scarletta.”

“Yes, sir.” The soldier left through the double doors, letting them slam shut behind him. The queen approached King Sloan's side, her long, maroon dress dragging behind her.

“What's going on?” she questioned the king, putting a hand on his shoulder. The king turned to her and handed her the papers.

“Scarletta's at it again. The city is under attack.”

The woman said nothing, but her expression showed fear. She took the papers and flipped through them.

“Keep those safe, Melinda,” the king ordered. “Those are our treaties with the kingdom of Asmar. We don't need another war on our hands.” He kissed his queen's hand and left her standing alone. Melinda watched her husband leave, fear heavy in her chest for the fate of their kingdom.

She looked over the treaties in her hands. Scarletta grew stronger with each passing day. Without the help of the kingdom of Asmar, Melinda worried that her own kingdom might soon be lost. She looked to the door where her husband disappeared, and her heart sank as the weight of his lost presence bore down on her. She could not bare to see her home suffer the same fate that Asmar had and she prayed that her husband would not be lost in the war as Asmar's king had been. Lucas was too young to take over as king, should Sloan perish. Much like the young King Rowan had been when he took Asmar's throne.

Melinda placed the treaties back on the table. Those few pages represented the only peace that remained between her kingdom and their once ally. When their king was killed in their war against Scarletta, the kingdom withdrew from the war, now in the hands of the young Rowan. Melinda's heart ached for the boy who lost everything. She didn't blame him from pulling out of the war; their kingdom suffered enough. But she didn't know how much longer Librona could go on like this in Scarletta's shadow.

Her three children came through the door, their expressions heavy with worry and fear.

“What's going on?” her oldest daughter asked, well aware of the war the kingdom had been going through. She pulled her youngest sister close to her. Melinda admired her daughter's bravery amongst the chaos over the years and her care for her younger siblings.

“Nothing, Fallon,” Melinda said, glancing at her youngest child. Her eyes were wide with wonder, but she was quiet. “Don't worry about it now,” she continued. “Take Tianna to her chambers.”

“I want to fight the witch,” the young man said with confidence. His brown eyes were bright and anxious under his light brown shaggy hair.

“Lucas, you're not old enough,” Fallon hissed to him.

“What witch?” Tianna cried.

“Enough,” Melinda scolded her children.

“Where's Daddy going?” Tianna asked.

“Come on, Tianna,” Fallon said, guiding her young sister out of the room. Melinda watched as Fallon fiddled with Tianna's dark brown hair, putting it neatly back in its braids.

“Mother, I'm old enough to be a soldier,” Lucas pressed.

“You will not fight in this war, Lucas. Do not ask me about it again.”

Lucas stewed furiously but said nothing more. His mother refused to see him as the adult that he was, next in line for the throne. He left the room and made his way through the castle and to the barracks. He stood in the corner and watched as the soldiers readied themselves for another fight, some not much older than he. He felt ashamed to be cooped up behind the walls of the castle. He made himself useful by helping the soldiers prepare themselves as they gathered their weapons and armor.

Melinda watched her son in the barracks. She couldn't protect him forever, but hoped that this was not the war he would have to fight in. She wished he would never have to see a life of war. She heard her husband's voice calling to his army just outside, bringing her back to reality; the witch was in the city. She hurried through the castle to make sure her daughters were safe.