Mana, as Winifred had often found, was a very fickle thing indeed.

When she was just a child, her parents took her to a renowned Magus Practitioner to measure her Core.

Her parents, her Father, in particular, had spent weeks building up to the event. Her Mother had flapped and fussed, insistent that she have just the right dress for the occasion. Her father had waxed lyrical about how magical and mystical it had been when he’d found out which Aspect his own Core synergized with the most.

She remembered him gesticulating wildly, his face expressive as he told her how proud he’d been when he’d first held his Gravity wand and realized the power that had been revealed to him. He’d been quite unlike the stoic, taciturn man she was used to.

Winifred had huddled in her bed the night before the appointment, unable to sleep from the sheer excitement of it all. She spent the long night fantasizing, not only about what her Aspect could be but how she was going to be tested. She didn’t really understand what a Magus Practitioner was, but perhaps she’d get to play with various wands or do crazy tricks. She’d begun to imagine a veritable magical playground.

And so it had been with bated breath that the eight-year-old Winifred had walked into Dray’Mel’s Library in the periwinkle blue silk dress her Mother had found (and she hated). Wide-eyed and full of vigor, the brunette had felt crestfallen when she’d realized that the actual testing was carried out rather pragmatically.

She’d been shuffled into a small room that looked as though it was usually used for studying. There were old mahogany tables and chairs pushed up against one wall while another was lined with bookcases weighed down with enormous leather-bound tomes with dull names such as ‘Runes and their meanings’ and ‘Astronomy Encyclopedia - A Guide To The Stars’. Sitting in the middle of the room, on a rickety old chair, was a rather bored-looking Gnome. Beside him, on a small table, were a dozen or so rods of various shapes and sizes.

The Gnome, who was dressed head to toe in flowing purple robes, greeted her clinically and introduced himself as the Magus Practitioner. He nodded at the table and encouraged her to wave around each one and to ‘feel the Mana’. Even at eight years old, Winifred had felt like a complete idiot as she’d followed his instructions.

It had been so long now that she couldn’t recall his name. All she remembered was the disinterested expression that had been on his face and the fact that he’d barely looked at her as he launched into what was undoubtedly a well-practiced spiel about the various types of Magic that existed in the world.

Fire, he’d informed her, was the most common Aspect of the Human race. He’d directed her toward a thin stick of metal that had been painted red. She’d been allowed to touch it for all of ten seconds before he’d plucked it out of her grasp and shook his head. A similar wand had then been shoved into her hands before again, it was taken away while he lectured her about Metallic Mana and how she was obviously unsuited to it.

Next, she’d been told all about Water magic and although it was most often associated with the Elves, perhaps she should try it. She’d been handed a wooden rod that was elaborately carved with little bubbles along its length. That too had been quickly taken off her, as did the following Drow’s Blood Magic rod.

She’d then been forced to suffer a litany on Arcane and how it was rare to all species. The art of Rune-Smithing takes a very special talent and an abnormal amount of dedication from the caster.

And on and on and on. The Gnome continued to prattle as she waved stick after stick and felt like an utter failure. She was beginning to dread leaving the room and having to tell her Father that she was a ‘Barren’.

Winifred had felt sick as soon as she’d even thought of the word. As far as people like her parents were concerned, it was a dirty word. Being ‘a Barren’ was one of the most shameful secrets that a Human could have. Barrens had a Core, but it was so minuscule that they had no Aspect and very little if any, aptitude for using Magic.

She could imagine the look on her father’s face if she walked out of the room to tell him the news that she was a Barren…it just wasn’t worth thinking about that possibility.

She had grabbed the next nearest wand with renewed vigor, waving the bloody thing around for all she was worth. Finally, the Gnome started to look interested.

“Oh, there we go,” He said mildly as she continued to wave it. “It appears that we’ve found what your talent is. Physical Enhancement. It’s quite common really…not so much for, ah, the female of the species…” He let out an awkward cough as she glared at him. “Let me see the output…” He continued, snatching the wand from her grasp.

She’d been ushered from the room soon after but not before she’d seen the brief flicker of pity that had crossed the old Gnome’s face. She remembered feeling utterly confused. Surely the news was good? She wasn’t a Barren after all! She had an Aspect!

“Winnie my darling!” Her father had practically bounded up to her. A rare show of emotion from a man who normally barely cracked a smile in public. “What’s the good news?” He asked her eagerly. Her mother brought up the rear, looking down on her not with the slight air of loathing she usually used, but with hope.

“I have an Aspect!” Winifred had crowed excitedly.

“Well of course you do dear,” Winifred’s mother had rolled her eyes and shaken her head. “Now stop play-acting for attention and tell your father.”

Her mother had rarely been loving or positive with her but at that point in her life, Winifred recalled that she couldn’t care less. She had an Aspect and not even her mother’s stupid snooty attitude could take that away from her!

“We must take you to the finest toy merchant in Dray’Mel!” Her father had announced, puffed up with pride as he’d taken her hand. “Nothing’s too good for my daughter on this special day!”

Winifred’s mother didn’t comment as the young brunette had strolled down the library’s corridors, hand in hand with her father. All the while he’d been chattering excitedly about getting her some proper magical training and how he couldn’t wait to ‘show off to those fuddy-duddies at the Gentlemen’s Club’.

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense any longer my darling! What’s your Aspect?” Her father had said when they’d reached the library’s exit.

“Physical Enhancement!” Winifred had announced proudly.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she’d known that she’d done something wrong. Again. Her father dropped her hand as though it had suddenly become red hot. Her mother had let out a horrified squeak. Her father’s smile had completely vanished and he’d looked around furtively to make sure nobody had overheard her.

“Come, Louisa,” He said in a very matter-of-fact manner as he addressed her mother. “I’m sure if we hurry we can still make the luncheon date with the Fetheringtons.”

“But…” Winifred tried to interrupt as her mother and father started to stride down the stone steps and head towards their waiting carriage. She followed them, almost tripping in her haste to keep up. Her father had paused, his hand on the carriage door. He’d taken in a deep breath, his shoulders tensing before he’d turned to her.

“You must never speak of what happened today,” He muttered darkly. “This was all just a…fancy. Yes. It’s…it’s not good for a society lady to use magic…if anyone should ask, you were never tested. Do I make myself clear?”

He’d looked so fierce, almost as if he hated her. She’d been so scared and confused that she’d nodded wordlessly and allowed him to usher her quickly into the carriage.

Her parents being the way they were, it hadn’t even taken them the journey home to start slipping fully into denial. Yes, they’d confirmed with each other. The Magus Practitioner idea had been naught but a silly fancy. It was unbefitting for someone of Winifred’s caliber to be a magic user. She was an heiress. She had certain duties and expectations to fulfill and none of them required magic to do so.

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And, of course, the talk had quickly turned to what had been her parent’s favorite subject at the time. Having another child.

Less than a year after the disastrous appointment, her sister had been born. The true heiress to the family name and fortune.

Winfred snorted derisively to herself. She was long past giving a shite over all of that. She took pleasure in the fact that they were stuck in that silly, empty life of caring about what other silly, empty people thought about them.

No, everything she’d done for herself and her Mana had been a struggle. And that was why she was proud of her Enhancement Aspect. Not only that, but she’d attained a level of control over it that she’d thought was way beyond what she could achieve. Let people like the Wee Man crow and prance about over his Shadow Aspect. A real fighter fought with their fists.

And yet this was why her Crux was both a blessing and a curse. When she’d become Chosen and formed her second Core, she’d assumed that once again, she’d have difficulty controlling it, just as she’d done with her Mana.

Instead, she’d found that the Crux was eager to obey her every command with very little effort on her part. A simple, errant thought would send pure power coursing through her limbs, the sudden rush of energy electrifying her and yet scaring her in equal measure.

Staring at the kneeling form of the possessed Succubi, Winifred barely had the focus to let the Crux loose, the power barreling through her body. She could feel her muscles tense and twist, her legs pressing down on the stone floor so hard that it began to crack beneath her feet.

Her Mana followed suit, sluggishly flowing through and enhancing the muscle fibers that the Crux had missed. It eventually reached her precious Artifacts, the brass knuckledusters greedily soaking in any and all the energy they could.

Before she let the enchantment take effect, however, the clear-headed and tactical portion of her brain carefully checked for any reaction from her target. Luck was on her side. The possessed Demoness was seemingly oblivious to her presence as she continued to hungrily devour her meal of corpses and guts.

Survix was totally unaware and, from a tactical standpoint, Winifred couldn’t have asked for anything better. Getting the drop on an opponent meant gaining an advantage over them. Blackmaul had always told her that. She recalled him calling her a ‘heavy-footed oaf in a wee chook’s body’ and his constant nagging to work on her stealth skills. ‘An enemy that does nae see ye comin’ is an enemy that’s going down’, he would tell her.

What Winifred hadn’t expected, however, was the sudden rage that she was feeling at being ignored. Maybe it had been the memory of her Magus Practioner appointment, or perhaps the thought of her parents. Either way, the heat in her chest was urging her forward, to barrel in there with nary a thought. It was strange…despite her past, she’d never considered herself to be a wrathful person. Not even in the heat of battle.

Taking someone’s head in her hands and kneeing their teeth out of their skull? Well, that was just business. Something she did to make herself some coin to keep food on the table and a roof over her head. And yes, if she was going to be honest about it, it gave her a sense of pleasure too.

It seemed to be after getting her Pact that she’d struggled to keep a lid on her temper. It was harder to brush things off and every stupid comment from the Wee Man stung her as deeply as anything her parents had ever said to her. She knew he was just a fucking idiot but that didn’t help the burning feeling, the craving for some form of vengeance.

But, just as she’d had to too so many times when she was younger and struggling to get her Mana flowing, she let out a long breath and tried to relax.

Letting her Artifacts pull her forward, Winifred barely felt herself move. It all felt so instinctive and natural as she simply stepped across the bodies, dozens of limbs disappearing beneath her.

In a single step, Winifred crossed a hundred feet or more, the distance disappearing beneath her. The movement was quick, less than a second from start to finish as she blurred within striking distance of her target.

Planting herself squarely beside Survix, the pitfighter reeled back her left fist and threw a punch with everything she had, muscles burning as she twisted her body to put all her weight behind the attack.

The Chosen Shade didn’t have the time to even blink between Winifred’s lunge and the punch that followed. The impact collided with the possessed Survix’s cheek. And yet, it didn’t stop there. Not like it had when she’d been under Blackmaul’s tutelage. Her fist would collide with its target, the practice dummy or leather armor and that would be it.

But now, with the might of her Aspect behind her, the sheer force it carried her punch onwards, the Succubi’s flesh splitting apart from the force of it. Extending her arm to its full length, Winifred watched as the Shade’s entire head shattered inwards, pieces of flesh and bone showering outwards in a visceral spray of gore that painted the far walls of the Arena red.

Break…

Dumbfounded, Winifred simply stood on the spot, gaping at her blood-soaked fist.

Ever since she’d become a Chosen, she’d been looking forward to the chance to slug it out with another foe, someone equal to her new power. She relished the idea of testing and pushing herself to new limits, working out any kinks, and making Blackmaul proud of her.

Instead, she’d crushed the other Chosen’s head like a grape.

“Winifred!”

A shout from below snapped her out of her sudden state of shock. She blinked, coming back into herself. She looked around and immediately saw why someone had called her name.

From almost every hole, crack, and doorway in the room, Ghouls were spilling into the Arena. They were clearly in a frenzy, making disgusting rasping sounds. It was as if killing the Chosen Shade had disturbed a beehive. Dozens of the rotting corpses stumbled to their feet and started to break into a sprint toward any living foe in reach.

“Shite!” She cried out. The damned things were attacking Meekknuckle and Skrakch. Zach, of course, was nowhere to be seen amongst the chaos. The Ghouls were charging toward her fellow rogues into the Arena from the Fighter’s entrance. It was a veritable swarm of rotting, putrid flesh and it didn’t take a genius or expert tactician to know that her companions would soon be needing her help.

She grimaced as she watched Ornn clashing with a massive Minotaur Ghoul, the stone Golem straining hard as they grappled together. Bits of flesh and rubble were breaking away from them as they fought.

As she prepared herself to jump down from the body pile and join the melee, she heard a curious wet sound. Turning back to Survix, she realized that the Chosen Shade’s host had gotten to her knees amongst the corpses.

The wet sound that she’d heard was coming from Survix’s flesh which was bubbling and rolling up the Demoness’ arms. Arms that were still plunged into a dead body. Her headless corpse was staying perfectly upright.

“What in the fucking-” Winifred muttered under her breath. She gingerly nudged Survix with her foot. If the Demoness noticed it, she didn’t react.

Winifred frowned, distracted from the noises of the fight that was still going on below them. She pulled back her fist to drive a blow into Survix once again but a blur of sudden motion to her left grabbed her attention.

The brawler jerked her head backward just in time as a large gleaming scythe-like blade passed by a mere inch from where her face had just been. Ducking underneath it as it tried to swipe down at her again, Winifred let out a laugh. Now, this is what she was thinking about!

Survix’s headless torso rose up before her. Where her legs had been, there were now dozens of thick, multiple tendrils. The tendrils seemed to be engorged, each one of them pumping the Chosen full of blood and flesh as they fed on the dead bodies. The blade that stuck out of the stump of flesh where Survix’s head had been swung back and forth dangerously.

Just as she was taking in this rather disgusting sight, it got worse. A lot worse. More tentacles suddenly rose upwards from the pile of bodies, these ones glistened with blood and viscera and each one ended with a brutal jagged point.

It didn’t take a genius to realize that the Shade was clearly well-suited to its current location. The bodies they were standing on probably hid even more of the gross tentacles. It was impossible to tell just quite how many were lurking underneath them.

Common sense dictated that the best thing to do would be to back off. To regroup and maybe try and bait the Shade towards her. Perhaps she could even go and deal with the encroaching Ghouls and let Skrakch and the others pepper it with ranged attacks from afar.

Cracking her neck from side to side and taking a deep, cleansing breath, Winifred could feel her Mana pulsing through her veins. Her Crux permeated her entire body and egged her onwards. Tactics be damned.

She knew she was being a complete fool, but she couldn’t help but remember the pure surge of adrenaline she’d gotten when she’d first become Chosen. The sensation of Sykes’ head as it pulped inwards just like a rotten watermelon and she’d felt invincible. It had been the most invigorating experience of her life and she craved to feel that good again.

A grin spread across her face as she effortlessly dodged the large scythe and ducked under one of the thick tentacles as it flew toward her.

“Aye, this is the stuff!” She crowed with pleasure. “There’s nae gonna be any backing off from me lassie so do yer worst!”

Winifred dashed forward and closed the distance between herself and her foe. It was like an elegant dance as she twisted her body to avoid the swiping blades. More burst out from the pile of bodies and she skirted around them. She’d been an idiot to even consider backing off!

She was a bloody brawler and she was more than happy to go toe to toe with any foe, Chosen or otherwise.