"On, and on, to the Dunn estate!"

The group of young men whooped and cawed in approval of Dellen's declaration. The tall, lithe man led the procession through the streets of Genua, flanked on either side by Beck and Celian. Behind them trailed a raucous gathering of Dellen's friends.

"A bad omen hangs in the air…" Beck grumbled. Celian and Dellen looked at him, questioning. "When I went home earlier today to ready myself for this night, I lay on my bed to take a short rest and immediately fell into a fitful sleep. I had a dream I can't remember now, but I'm sure it was all of doom and misfortune."

Dellen scoffed and turned around, walking backward so that the rest of the men could see his face.

"Dreams and omens… What's the use in worrying over such things?" He snapped his fingers and sparks of eternal flame erupted from them. "The only thing we should be worrying about now is our disguises… and whether there will be enough wine for all of us to drink our fill."

The men laughed as more bursts of light flickered to life, illuminating the shadows of early evening. Beck watched in dismay as they all used their magic to adorn themselves with disguises—elaborate masks that hid their true identities. A couple of the men swiped their glowing hands over the silver cuffs on their upper arms, stitched with silver suns, which identified them as loyal Hillshire men. The cuffs disappeared with their magic, erasing the last traces of their true allegiance.

Why hadn't he asked Celian to make a disguise for him before they left the Hillshire estate? Out here, these men would surely question why the heir of Hillshire himself wasn't capable of using magic to make a simple disguise… His secret was at great risk of exposure.

"Dreams, dreams," Dellen trilled, sending more sparks flying from his fingers. The other men laughed at the silly display. "I, too, had an ominous dream, just last night."

Beck felt a tug at his sleeve. He found Celian beside him. His cousin gave him a knowing look, before nodding his head to the left. Follow me, the gesture said.

"I dreamed that we were all gathered, all citizens of Genua," Dellen went on as Celian and Beck fell behind the rest of the men. "We stood around the Eternal Castle. And then, there! In the sky!" Dellen pointed wildly skyward as the men gasped and feigned shock. "A ball of eternal flame shot across the horizon!"

Celian slowed even further, allowing the rest of the men to move ahead of them before pulling Beck into the shadow of an alley.

"It came falling toward the city!" Dellen went on, his audience enthralled. "Bigger, bigger, it grew as it neared…"

"Here," Celian said quietly, his hand glowing as he swiped it over Beck's head. His white Hillshire hair was suddenly covered in a glittering, jeweled hood, his silver eyes obscured by a gold mask, which covered his face from nose to forehead. Celian placed a similar disguise on his own head, though his hood was much simpler and his mask a shiny onyx.

They stepped from the alley and quickly rejoined the back of the procession as Dellen continued his theatrics.

"Closer, closer… And then boom! Crash! The entire city was engulfed in flame!"

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His audience responded with mock terror. Dellen's green eyes danced, his lips curled in a smirk.

"All turned to ash and blackness… and Genua was no more."

"And you just stood there and watched it burn?" one of the men asked.

"Aye," Dellen nodded, indignant. "What else could I have done? But when all burned away, I was the last one left. So I wandered the city, searching for my friends and kinsmen, but all I found was charred blackness. But then…" His green eyes sparkled, almost with madness, and he grinned out at them all. "From the ashes rose specters, dancing ghosts. And do you know what they did?"

The men called for an answer: What, what?

"They fought!" Dellen shot out a burst of eternal flame, wielding it like a sword as he spun about. "The ghosts of the enemy clans, even in death, could not let their hatred for one another rest!"

The men laughed and dodged his harmless attacks.

"I couldn't bear the sight of it! Those fools. Even dead, they could not find peace among one another. So I stepped between them and I begged them to stop."

"Did they stop?" someone asked.

Dellen laughed. "Of course not! So, I joined the fight." He swung his eternal flame sword again, sending red and green sparks flying through the air. "I fought the ghosts… but in the end, I was struck down!" Dellen clutched at his gut, as if he'd been delivered a fatal blow, and fell into the arms of one of his friends. "I was slain by the ghosts, and so I became one of them, trapped in their eternal battle…"

Beck rolled his eyes. "He certainly knows how to draw attention to himself."

Celian chuckled. "It did help us out just now, keeping them distracted so I could make you your disguise."

Beck sighed. "Yes, but is it the best idea to be in his company while we're trying to stay hidden? We may as well enter the party unmasked, if we're going to have him by our side, drawing all eyes."

"No, I think he'll continue to distract attention away from us. Who will look at us when he's around?"

"So, if dreams really are omens, what does your dream foretell about you, Dellen?" one of the men asked the "slain" man as they helped him back to his feet.

Dellen scratched his chin and thought it over. Then, with a dramatic flourish of eternal flame, he finally bestowed his own disguise upon himself—a mask shaped like the ghostly white skull of a cat.

"It foretells of my doom!" Dellen said, lurching towards the men, who scurried away from him as if he were already a malevolent spirit. He laughed with glee. "What else could it be?" He turned to face Beck, grinning. "See, young friend. Do not put so much weight on the significance of dreams. Besides, if they truly are prophecies, destined to come true, then how could we have any power to stop them?"

"That seems rather pessimistic," Celian said, smiling and crossing his arms.

"Oh, but it's quite the opposite!" Dellen held out his arms and spun, using magic to add a flowing, red cape to his ensemble. "Because, if my dream is true, and I'm to die soon, what better reason is there than that to live every moment I have left to the absolute fullest?"

The men around him cheered in agreement. Beck only thought of Peonia. His Peonia. Tonight very well may be his last chance to ever speak to her… he didn't dare miss it, even under threat of bad omens and dark dreams. Veiled in his magical disguise, his confidence surged anew. Peonia wouldn't even realize it was him beneath the mask! He could charm her, spend all night dancing with her, and she would be none the wiser. It would either be a marvelous send-off to his first heartbreak, or a chance to rekindle things between them.

"There are stars in your eyes, cousin," Celian suddenly said, pulling him from his thoughts. "And though I like to see your face finally lit up again, you best leave a few for the night sky. Otherwise, the rest of us will be doomed to darkness."

Beck gave his shoulder a playful shove.

"Let me have my stars," he said, striding ahead to join Dellen at the front of the pack. "You have more than enough eternal magic to light your way—so allow me all the stars my eyes can carry!"

Dellen whooped in agreement as Beck fell into step beside him and they threw their arms over each others' shoulders, marching along together. Someone in the group started up a lusty drinking song, and Beck immediately joined in, singing at the top of his lungs. The party was ahead, his worries behind, and his true love waiting for him somewhere in the night.