Deep within an ancient tomb, mana gathered in its purest form. Condensing in the center of the tomb. The air swayed, making way for the powerful energy to gather.

The air began to tremble, and slight cracks formed on the surrounding walls of stone. The stones began to wither away as mana grew dense enough to become visible.

Specks of dust fell from the ceiling, as the material crumbled, and spread another layer of dust on the floor. The soft glow of the moon quietly seeped through the newly formed cracks, revealing a motionless body laying inside a huge crater. A young woman's figure covered in her own dry blood became visible, as the soft glow of the moon lit up the room.

The source of the blood: an ominous sword stabbed into her abdomen. The blade of the sword gently curved from the mid section, and a black glow emenated from the blade. Dry blood decorated the sword, all over.

The sword pulsed, and a gentle wave of mana seeped out of it and entered the still body it was connected to.

The gathered energy in the room trembled, and took the form of a sphere before enveloping the life less body in the tomb.

Her fingers shook, and her chest heaved. Breathe after breathe, exited her slender frame. By the fifth breathe, her eyes opened. Black eyes, resembling the color of her hair, pierced the dimly lit room.

"A dream. . ."

She spoke. Her beautiful face creased in confusion. The memories of her dream flooded her mind. Then, her expression changed to that of sorrow.

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". . . Of the past." A weak and trembling voice, much different from her previous tone, escaped from her parting lips.

A single drop of tear trailed along her smooth, pale skin. Despite her previous state, her body was perfectly preserved by the remnant energy from her powerful soul.

Her eyes trailed the dim light coming from the cracks on the cieling. Slowly, she reached out for the source of the light, trying to grasp for something. The mana surrounding the area danced between her fingers, in the shape of a small butterfly.

The red glow of her mana reflected off the ominously glowing blade still stuck in her abdomen. Like a beacon, it attracted the woman's eyes. Her hand unsteadily traveled toward the swords hilt, and gripped the cold surface. She pulled the sword out. The wound healed instantly. Not even the blood on her body remained. Everything dissapeared as if it never happened.

She dropped the sword next to her, and continued to stare at the light peeking through the gaps in the cieling. Only a single thought remained in her mind.

"I'm alive."

She certainly died that day. Killed because of a single mistake she made during the fight. The enemy was powerful. It only took a single strike, penalizing one very small mistake she made, to break through her defenses.

Despite her previous emotional outbreak, she didn't dwell on the emotions or thoughts for long. Her emotions settled down, and her mind moved on.

In the midst of her thoughts, she sensed a familiar energy calling out for her. It felt like warm breeze gently blew from a specific location. She could sense the location without putting much thought into finding it. The energy had been calling out for her, even before she regained her life. Until now, she didn't notice. Whether her senses have grown dull, or not, she did not know.

After a brief moment, she stood up and steadied herself. Her hands moved to reorganize her clothes. The holes that riddled her black robe repaired itself in seconds. A red streak ran through her black robe, adding a sense of vulnerability to the on looker. The streak gave off the strange feeling of being watched by something very sinister. It felt as if something was lurking in the dark areas of the robe.

On her palm, a thin strip of red material formed out mana. She used it to raise her hair before departing.