People came out of the framework of the town as peace returned. Rain drenched them, but they walked toward the broken-down center where the disaster transpired. Among them were Hallie, Jared, and Jensen, who also returned.

Shock etched into the grooves of their faces as they took in the destruction that befell their once cozy town. Rubble piled up as homes lay in ruin, and the ground beneath their feet carved out into endless canals.

As they continued, they finally saw her— her body lay strewn across a large broken down wall, battered and bruised but still breathing.

"Divine One!" Several voices echoed out worriedly as they lay their eyes upon Priscilla's unconscious form. Despite their concern, they remained rooted in place— afraid to approach the being that fluttered through the sky as the elements roared at her command. "Is she okay?"

"Priscilla!" Hallie cried out as she ran up to the unconscious girl. "Jens, come help."

Priscilla's breaths came out slow and rhythmic— a relief for Hallie, who knelt beside her. Despite being unconscious and bruised, she seemed to be completely fine.

Jensen came and lifted her into his arms as they took her to their house. The others followed behind with worried expressions.

"How is it, Eckhart?" Some of the crowd questioned with hands clasped.

"Relax, will you," Jensen retorted casually, "She's worn out but fine. Just needs some rest."

Meanwhile, in Priscilla's unconscious mind, she found herself swirling through a storm of her own making. Her mind and heart detached from reality as she wept in a corner, afraid and alone.

Priscilla was but a child, running freely after a butterfly while her mother watched. She was active and joyous, someone who loved the world, and her mother loved her for it.

The world thought Marigold a fool, naive and blinded. Yet the woman lived more clever and wise than any would ever know. She knew her daughter was the brightest star in the night sky. No matter the torment she had to experience, it would be worth it, for her child would grow and prosper.

Priscilla shivered uncontrollably, her mother's smiling face disfigured beyond belief. Flesh rotted and fell to the floor, turning her bright joy into a pained grimace. "Mother? What's wrong? What's happening?" Tears flow with every word.

The woman retched and heaved. Her skin writhed as it moved. Her nails cracked and bled as she clawed at the floorboards. The woman's eyes were cruel, insatiable, and fierce.

"My child…" The woman's hoarse voice echoed. Priscilla shivered, her back glued to the corner, head sunken into her bent knees.

"You must leave the empire. As far as you can…" She cut herself off, blood gurgling into her mouth as it overflowed down her lips and face.

The girl hid in herself, her eyes closed and her ears covered with her hands. She rocked herself into a peaceful lull, 'everything is okay' repeating endlessly into her mind, setting her off into a psychosis.

"My child… you must live…"

...

"Come back!" Priscilla cried out as her arms grasped at a cressel butterfly fluttering overhead. The critter dodged her hand and landed playfully on the girl's head before flying off.

Priscilla pouted and stomped her little feet, "Mommy! I still can't catch it!"

"That's where the magic lies, my child," Marigold replied while patching a torn dress, "They yearn for freedom. Only by granting it its wish can it grant yours. Sometimes, you must let go, no matter how much you desire to hold on."

"I don't understand, mommy!" Priscilla puffed her cheeks and crossed her arms. "If I hold onto it, why can't it grant a wish?"

Marigold laughed, "It's okay, child. It isn't time for you to understand it. One day, you'll know what it means to let go."

Priscilla's eyes trembled, but Marigold came and picked her up. "There, there, child. Let's eat."

"Mhm! Okay!" Priscilla chirped, completely forgetting her previous sadness.

The two ate happily, the unbridled warmth setting the mood. One of contentment and unfettered familial love.

"You can't do anything, can you?" Marigold sighed.

Priscilla's spoon dropped as she turned to her mother. Obscured by a dark shadow that overcast half her body, the visible half dried up like a husk, the corpse-like hollow gazing at her dejectedly.

Marigold reached over the table, grabbing the girl by her throat. "Damned you'll be. Eternally," She uttered through her toothless half, throwing the girl across the room and slamming her into the wall.

Priscilla jolted— cradling her head violently, she shrieked with heartrending despair that numbed the air around her.

"Worthless wretch. Why did you frolic with the lowborn scum?" A man's voice broke through her shrieks. Priscilla turned to see that tall and overbearing figure, his broad shoulders shrouding out the starlight, as he held her mother's severed head by her hair in his hand.

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Priscilla wailed and rocked and cradled in the corner. Her chest trembled, her mind raced, and her body numbed. The girl broke down. Her vision darkened as she sank into the corner.

Inside the Eckhart family home, Priscilla screamed as her body tossed to the side, falling out of the bed she was in. She coughed and gasped and clenched at the floorboards, with sweat drenching her back.

Hallie rushed over and held Priscilla up. "What's wrong, Priscilla? What happened?"

Priscilla's unfocused eyes stared at Hallie, and she reached up and placed her hand on the woman's weary face. She panted as clarity came to her, and she saw Hallie. "Hall...? I- I'm okay. I- just had a nightmare."

Hallie hugged her shoulder, "You're safe now, Pris. You've done amazing things. You deserve a good rest."

"Mhm..." Priscilla nodded as she pulled herself back into the bed. "Is Bianca fine?"

"Yes, don't worry. Thanks to you, nothing major happened. Bianca will be fine after some good rest." Hallie replied with a bright smile glowing with relief, "Now, lay down and rest. We'll have plenty of time to talk later."

"Mhm...okay."

----------------------------------------

In a brightly illuminated throne room, the emperor sat wearily. He held his head in his hand as he felt the weight of the world pressing down upon his shoulders. One could see the stress and pressure on his face as he stared dully. He was exhausted— everyone screamed at him to handle all their problems. They refused to take responsibility— they refused to do their part. Instead, they held out for him to solve every minuscule issue they came up with.

He wondered where everyone had gone— they were supposed to work for him, not the other way around. 'Father would be ashamed if he could see the state of the empire...' The emperor sighed.

"Your Majesty..." A feminine voice chirped from the throne room's entrance.

The emperor lifted his head with reluctance, "Enter."

"It's you..." He muttered, "You're finally back? Where the hell have you been?"

"Apologies, Your Majesty..." The woman replied lithely as she took long steps toward the throne. Her heels clattered against the pristine tiled flooring of the palace. "I've been neglectful to you. My mission took longer than expected. You'll forgive me, won't you?"

The woman giggled as her hips swayed mesmerizingly— the way she walked up, parts of her thighs peeked through her gown that slit down the sides. She knew what she was doing and owned it with every step. Finally, she reached the throne and knelt. Her hand glided down the man's leg as she bowed. "Your servant returns with a report."

The man's eyes narrowed, and he gulped. "Speak." His eyes scanned the woman, focusing on her slender legs, before raising his head and waving her to proceed.

"Yes, Your Majesty." The woman giggled sweetly, "Duke Valentine— is still alive. We've found traces of him in the south, in Marquis Kronenberg's villa."

The emperor slammed his fist against the armrest and jolted up, "That damned dog bastard brother of mine. Are you certain? How long has he been there? Bring him to me immediately!"

"Your Majesty, don't stress yourself over it. Your servant sent people to collect Duke Valentine and bring him back." The woman puffed her endowed chest proudly and got up, walking toward the throne.

"May I, Your Majesty? Let this servant help reduce your stress."

The man merely sat quietly, subtly acknowledging her actions.

She walked up behind the throne and placed her delicate fingers on the man's strong shoulders. She rubbed them slowly while her plump red lips neared his ear, whispering, "Kyrian, thanks for being useful."

The man relaxed into the throne, melting into her touch, indulging in it. It was an escape from the stress and problems that plagued him. It blinded him from the woman's chilling gaze as she moved one of her hands down her waist and unfastened a hidden dagger that lay strapped to her thigh. She stabbed it into the man's chest with a swift flick and smiled. "Long live the emperor."

The man jolted— his eyes widening in shock and fright. His heart beat— and stalled. His body slid slightly on the throne as the last breath escaped his body, his eyes bulged— at the last thing he saw in this life.

'Father... I've failed the empire.'

His last thought remained etched in the fabric of the empire. The guilt, ambition, and regret, a thousand years of prosperity, brought to ruin.

The woman pulled the dagger out of the man's chest and flicked the blood off it, wiping it on the man's cloak. She pulled a bright blue eyeball from her bosom and blew into it, causing it to spark with a vibrant glow.

"Hello, hello. Wake up, babies." She giggled at the eye, transmitting her voice to the other side.

"Bea, is it done?"

"Yes, baby, no problem at all. You can proceed slowly to the empire. I'll begin with the next steps." As she spoke, her body began to transform. Her skin writhed and enlarged. Slowly but surely, she took on the form of the emperor lying dead on the floor.

"Good, make the empire burn with hatred toward the foolish emperor that betrayed his people. I'll give you three months to make them sweat, and then I'll arrive."

"Three months? No, baby! You're supposed to come sooner! You're spending time with that bitch aren't you?"

A woman's laughter broke from the other side of the connection, "You know it, Bea. Don't be jealous, and do your job."

"Damn you, Maxy! Opportunistic whore!" The woman- Bea, gritted her teeth in frustration and jealousy.

"Enough squabbling, you two. Focus on your missions. Auror has already gone to capture the witch from the sand, and Carlisle is still en route to meet with Bi'Sha. We have no time for your catfights."

"Fine, fine. If you insist, baby." Bea sighed as her body finished transforming into the emperor's form.

"I've finished taking his form, so I'll get to work. I'll see you in three months. For the prosperity of— " Before Bea could finish, the connection cut off.

"Maxine... I hate you!" She screamed in Kyrian's hoarse voice. "Damned witch, just wait until you return."

In a far-off place, a woman was laughing herself to death. She sat atop a man's lap and held onto her sides. On the table, an eyeball rolled. "Little Bea must be pissed, don't you think?"

"You shouldn't tease your little sister so much, Maxine. Aren't you the one just playing around while she's working hard?"

"Aw, come on! Don't be such a grouch." Maxine pouted as she slapped her fists softly against the man's chest. "It's not like we haven't done enough already. Won't we be busy when Bea's finished her mission?"

"We will." The man retorted flatly. "The millennium is upon us. The time to rise is nigh, and none shall stop us."

"The next few months will be exhilarating. How will the masses beg for a savior when their majesty comes crashing down their doors with the executioner's blade? I wish I could see it personally."