The person in the blood mask chuckled once more, apparently amused by my defiance then they flew at me, which is really the only word I can use. The blur of their feet barely seemed to touch the ground as they ran like a swooping dove or diving hawk. I met their first strike more by luck than judgement, parried and pushed back.

The red figure in the mask like blood was an expert I could tell immediately, they parried my first clumsy slash with contemptuous ease and delivered a riposte that hacked a line of fabric out of my puffed sleeve even as I nearly fell over trying to avoid it.

I darted backwards a few steps trying to keep some distance from the dancing figure then went for an amateurish feint stepping back and then forwards rapidly and lashing out with a quick chop as I did so. The red figure in the blood mask wasn't fooled for a second and caught my blade on their left cross-guard then as I tried to pull it back they locked it in place with their right and kicked out; catching me full in the chest. Their strength was nearly inhuman and I found myself flying backwards leaving my clumsy display sword trapped in its new steel cage.

I landed heavily on the tiles some distance away winded and gasping, I only managed to look up when I heard the clatter of the two halves of my former sword hitting the tiles in front of me.

Gazing past the sad steel I met the gaze of the red figures. Slowly they crossed their blades, letting the swords scrape loudly against one another, then they began to prowl towards me.

I remember feeling terrified, angry, anxious, and something else... something entirely inappropriate for a noble to feel... excitement. Here I stood not in some stupid soirée but on a rooftop having a fight with a strange swords master, no boring dancing or tiring small talk for once in my life I felt entirely free.

And when I feel like that I have a great deal of trouble keeping down... what I am. As it turns out it was a pretty good thing that I wasn't able to but really in hindsight I'm a bloody idiot and it's only dumb luck that I wasn't killed either directly or indirectly because of losing control.

I leapt to my feet uncoiling like a snake, my hands already glowing. The person in the blood mask darted backwards and slashed at me but I slapped their rapiers away, the metal screaming and sparking as it glanced off my shining skin. I leapt forwards and the red warrior dodged to my side slamming their rapiers into my gut as they passed. It was a masterful move which should have ended the fight but instead the metal just bounced off my skin. Staggered forwards from the impact of the blow I slammed my hands into the wall of the minaret and smiled as the bricks shattered like glass under my fingers.

Now with my expensive dress cut to ribbons I advanced my light nearly blinding now. I swung a glowing fist and the red figure tried to parry the magical strength in my fingers matched then exceeding their own as I sent them hurtling backwards. They landed like a cat as I lumbered forwards and kicked out. The blood masked figure vaulted over the blow and slammed their blades into my chest with a deafening ring. My magic had totally suffused my skin now, hardening it like steel and causing any injury from a sprained ankle to a run through torso to heal so quickly it was like the wound had never been dealt. I should have been invincible... but as the red figures rapiers struck my chest I felt a flash of pain. Looking down I saw two long char edged scratches had been burned into my now smouldering dress.

I looked up agog at my opponent who chuckled once more the beautiful silver like blades of their rapiers now coated in what looked like flaming blood which dripped from their points and caused the metal to glow cherry red.

A mage? I was so shocked at the revelation that I barely dodged their counter attack. The twin blades bit into the rooftop where I had been standing less than a second ago, there was a flash of bright red light and the tiles exploded, shards of burning slate fountaining up into the air and raining down upon the rooftop like tiny falling stars. Blood mask didn't stop moving for even a second, as the retort of their explosive strike echoed across the silent city they charged towards me and I... well I charged them right back.

I know it was a stupid thing to do I mean they had me outclassed just with a blade, the only reason I was even alive was my magic and now they had that as well (and I could tell their trapping was far more combat oriented than mine was), I had no chance at all to beat them... and yet I couldn't make myself run away. I finally felt alive in the blue edge darkness of the night under the light of the three sisters, I felt my heart race and my magic surge as I took my life into my own hands.

Hurtling towards one another I felt the magic in my veins growing stronger and stronger even as I saw blood mask’s blades burn brighter and brighter then; an arm’s length from one another, we both stopped and swung.

The ringing impact of magical flesh on magical metal blew both of us backwards across the rooftop in an explosion of heat and a pulse of air.

Landing in a heap on the far side of the rooftop, I looked around wildly for a weapon, quickly discounting my old bisected sword, my eye fell on the crumbling minaret to my left. As blood mask leapt back onto their feet I wrenched a stone statue free from the tiny tower and charged towards the red figure with a joyous howl on my lips.

Blood mask for the first time that battle was forced back onto the defensive as I pelted after them waving the huge lump of old stone like a flail, back and back step by step they had to dodge endlessly as I waved the liberated gargoyle through the air and then.... they slipped. It was a tiny motion as their foot caught on a patch of moss and they stumbled backwards. I seized upon it feeling victory in my grasp I hurled the statue directly at them... and that's when victory slipped away again.

It was a feint; a masterful one at that. The motion of the supposed trip reversed with balletic grace and blood mask somersaulted backwards over the clumsy projectile, landing like a cat they slide forwards and in under my wide open guard and I felt my legs become a mass of agony as their red hot rapiers bit deeply into my skin. Pumping magic into the wounds as fast as I could I reached out to grab them only for the blood mask to leap forwards, vaulting me easily and even managing a midair stab that I barely deflected with a glowing hand.

My dress had been reduced to mere tatters and even those were covered in burn marks, my muscles ached, my skin throbbed but worst of all... I was running out of magic[17].

Desperation seizing me I turned and reached out trying to pull on the life of the moss and ivy that coated the roof. I'm not sure what I was actually trying to do; I was mostly running on instinct by that point and besides it was far too late.

As I tried to focus my magic Blood mask darted in and planted a shoulder in my chest so hard that even with my steel skin I felt the wind leave my lungs. Then as I staggered back they began to rain blows down on my glowing skin. I hadn't ever stood a chance, I realised as the blood mask drifted past one of my flailing fists like a phantom and struck me so hard I felt a rib break. They had been letting me win before now, never striking a telling blow dancing back and forth, toying with me. The few seconds when I had a chance of winning were when I had shocked them with my magic but now I was truly outmatched.

I fell to one knee lashed out wildly with my fists feeling my magic failing even as I did so I could feel my skin becoming weaker by the second even as my glow faded. Blood mask darted in and out under my guard, out of my reach leaving burning punctures dotting my skin. They aimed for my uselessly flailing arms, striking them again and again until they went limp, pain and exhaustion finally overcoming magic and robbing me of the last vestiges of my defences. Only then did the red warrior step in close and slam the flat of their boot into my chest, sending me hurtling across the rooftop for a second time. I landed with a heavy thump against the remains of the minaret staring up winded and wounded at the stars and the black roses upon their trellis.

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Above me the blood red mask loomed into my vision, the deep red of their mask reflected in their long cracked silver rapier as they raised it for a thrust. I am not ashamed to admit I closed my eyes, I thought this was the end.

I heard a single swish and a hissing whisper as the sword cut... and then I felt a soft impact on my chest.

I opened my eyes.

The red warrior stood a few steps away from me, rapiers sheathed and head cocked and; on my chest lay a single black rose, its freshly cut stem smoking slightly.

I remember goggling at it for so long that blood mask chuckled again, obviously enjoying my surprise. As I looked up at them I reflexively took the rose into my hand as my magic died completely plunging the rooftop into moonlit darkness again.

“Uhhhh...” I mumbled. I am sure you agree that at the time I could hardly have been expected to compose a better response to this sudden change of circumstances. “Thank you.” Eons of etiquette training did come to my aid however and it is always a good idea to be polite to swords masters.

Blood mask giggled this time (actually giggled!) and bowed once more

“For such a fine young lady... and a worthy opponent.” She said in a voice as sweet as sin and soft as silk.

Then with barely a motion she stepped backwards off the rooftop, for a second her cape billowed upwards as she fell then she vanished into the night.

I think I gasped... or possibly swore but even as I did so I scrambled back to my feet and sprinted desperately to the edge. The blood masked girl had gone, no windows were open, no bushes rustled, no grass was disturbed she had simply vanished as if she’d never been.

I sat on that rooftop for a long while feeling the bitter taste of fading fear in my mouth and letting my magic heal my charred wounds. I had fallen into a fugue of fatigue and puzzlement but even so I remember that I never let go of that rose.[18]

By the time I returned to the party the candles were guttering and the few remaining dancers that drifted across the hall seemed to be propping one another up more than anything.

I entered the room as circumspectly as I could; landing on the unobserved lawn outside and sneaking up onto the patio. From there I simply walked into the room confident anyone who saw me would simply think I had been out enjoying the night air and cooling down not having a heart racing sword duel with a strange magical blade-mistress dressed all in red.

As it was of course nobody even bothered to notice me. I simply wandered in and draped myself with calculated weariness on a balustrade overlooking the sunken dance floor as if I was an ardent dancer who had twirled the night away; confident nobody would be looking closely enough to realise just how tired I actually was. Looking around with calculated idleness I noticed father shaking hands with the head of some noble house whilst mother and Roland both sat nearby. Mother so that she could give my father input on his political decisions and Roland so he could have an eye kept on him. Casting my gaze further up the hall I saw the gaudy form of Allegra chattering with a large group of similarly dressed young girls; the unfavoured heirs and younger children of the other houses no doubt.

Shifting on the spot I fiddled with my dress slightly, I hadn't wanted to do this but going back into the soirée with obvious battle damage couldn't be considered so I had rapidly grown some soft flat vines from the rose trellis then wrapped them over the cuts and burns. It wasn’t perfect but I knew people would mistake it for some kind of new fashion statement as the heir of a noble house I was supposed to try to set trends.

As I thought that father bowed to lord whoever it was and taking mothers hand began to stride away towards the doors collecting my brother and sister along the way. Father nodded at me as they passed and I dutifully dropped into formation with my siblings, the five of us gracefully glided towards the wide lacquered doors and our distant steam carriage.

“Ah my Lord and Lady Dutair are you leaving us so soon?”

Suddenly Baron Fairbanks loomed out of a group of gossiping nobles next to the door and smiled at us like a reef shark catching sight of supper. In retrospect it's obvious he would make proper farewells to all his more important guests but I didn't think that at the time, I had my eyes fixed firmly on the floor and my heart pounding in my ears. The clockwork egg in my pocket suddenly seemed to weigh far more than it should have, I was just glad it had stopped ticking again for some reason whilst I was on the rooftop.

“We thought it best we return home before the sisters complete their full circuit.” Said my father polity

The Baron laughed, “oh but of course thank you for attending anyway, I hope you shall come to my next one.” His face suddenly sharpened as his eyes hardened and he leant in. “Just between you and I, Lord Dutair, my next party will be far grander to celebrate me finally achieving... well what I deserve.”

He leant back again and smiled. “I shall look forward to your attendance.”

Father is not a stupid man far from it in fact and he knew exactly what the Baron had his heart set on and both how hard to achieve but how very profitable it was. He nodded at the Baron slowly with a calculating look in his eye. “Of course Lord Fairbanks our houses have to stick together after all.”

With that obvious question hanging in the air father led us out. I was still shuffling along at the back of our little group, sweat running down my brow and praying that I could get to the carriage at least before the alarm was raised and the Baron, the army and the Inquisition all came pouring out of the woodwork howling for my blood. With the benefit of hindsight it was obvious I needn’t have worried, no servant would dare enter their master’s study without his direct permission and as far as I am aware the first person to discover the theft was the Baron himself some four hours later shortly after the last few partygoers finally went home.

And with that last hurdle jumped I was in the clear, one hot stuffy ride in our steam-carriage later and there I was walking back into the safety of our mansion which was sat firmly in the most secure part of the most exclusive neighbourhood in all of Prasus of course. Its huge pitch-black perimeter wall was topped with wicked spikes, guards slowly stalking through its vast gardens with hands on sword hilts ready to draw, Butlers and flunkies flocking around our coach bowing and scraping every few steps; a hundred obstacles for the Baron if he was tearing after us with blood vengeance in mind.

But of course he wasn’t. My parents congratulated me and my sister on our conduct and remanded my younger brother to his tutor for more lessons in discipline before they retired to bed. Allegra nodded to me and left for her room no doubt to dream of even tackier dresses and more idle conversation and then... I was free.

I took the steps up to my bedroom three at a time confident that if I slipped my magic would heal me. That lack of subtlety should show you just how out of my mind with relief I was. Moments later I was slamming my door behind me and pulling that ridiculous dress off.

I got re-dressed into my pyjamas and looked across at the egg. I hadn't really meant to succeed or more accurately I hadn't really planned what to do if I did but here I was back home safe and sound with the treasure and the Baron none the wiser. I remember that I sat there for several minutes wondering just what in the Abyss I was supposed to do with the egg now.

I supposed I could sell it but how do you find someone who buys stolen goods? Just wander down alleys in a dock spur and ask random people? I knew that I really should just get rid of it, maybe smash it to pieces or throw it over the edge of Prasus itself but I couldn't bring myself to, after all the stress and fear and fierce joy it had just cost me far too much to throw it away.

In the end I knelt down and began to fiddle with one of my floorboards. Being a noble meant that one learnt the arts of concealment and subterfuge at a young age.

I levered up my loose floorboard and dropped the egg down next to my hidden things (a sack of stolen chocolates, my older brother’s old journal, my own diary and a few tacky romance novels from the library that I refused to let anyone know I read). A few seconds later I un-tucked the black rose from my hair where it had been sitting and dropped it in after the egg, then I pushed the floorboard back into place and stood up brushing the dust off my dress as I did so.

At that time in my life I had never been so exhausted and so the second my contraband was safely hidden I fell back into my bed. I lay still on top of the quilt for a moment then staring up at the ceiling I promised myself.

“I'm never doing anything like that ever again.”