THE DARKNESS DEVOURED the woman's flesh in a whisk of spiraling ash, until there was nothing left but her aging bones. The stench of decay drifted into the suffocating atmosphere, while her remains disintegrated, scattered amid the blood-stained oak boards of the rural cottage.

Standing frozen against the wardrobe's cold, hard surface, Zardayna replayed the traumatizing event. It had murdered her mother; an act beyond her seventh-year grasp. She choked back the rising bile lodged in her throat. Tears streamed down her pallid cheeks, and the taste of salt seeped through her trembling lips. She couldn't breathe, nor could she move, for terror had burrowed itself to her core.

Unforeseen, the entity manifested itself into a human-like figure. A radiating, scarlet luminosity veiled its void sockets, and a crooked grin settled upon the dim light of its translucent form. Its razor-sharp claw tipped at one of the bones as it released a croaky chuckle. "How did you manage to hide so long, mi amor?"

Zardayna's vision had blurred into specks of starlight. She didn't have the energy to comprehend the word's connotation, for the ache in her heart and the sheer anguish that took hold of her soul engulfed her small physique. Letting out an involuntary sob, her knees buckled, prompting her body to fall limp.

Forthwith, the darkness snapped its attention towards the percussive noise with a sharp jerk of its head.

Zardayna's heart slammed against her ribcage. She was almost certain it could see her through the crack of the wardrobe, the moonlight that shone through giving way. She wanted nothing more than to run, but she knew it would not save her. She doubted her speed matched that of the creature's. Even if she did manage to make it past the cottage, Zardayna couldn't navigate. She didn't know these woods like her mother, as her mother rarely let her venture outdoors. If she had known what would come to pass, she would have persuaded her mother into allowing her leave of isolation, so that she may accompany her during the market; If she had known a monster were to take her away from the living world, Zardayna would have sacrificed herself...she could have saved her mother if only she had moved. But fear brought her to a halt.

Zardayna wished for a lot of things; the reversal of her mother's death being of the utmost. But it could not be undone. Death was irreversible. And soon, she would be dead too. Begging for someone to save her would do her no good, for there was no one around for miles. By heaven, only the gods could save her.

Shuffling herself upright, she watched, wide-eyed, as the configuration of swarming ash wafted across the confined room. The color had drained from her once rosy complexion. She didn't want to believe this was her end, an ending akin to her mother's, but she couldn't ignore it. She was going to end up like her, nothing but a pile of bones, the flesh ripped clean off. No one in the five realms could save her.

Zardayna hadn't realized it had already reached for the handle. The makeshift doors creaked open and hovering before her, the ash. Her heart came to a stop. She prayed to the gods it would spare her.

No matter her presumptions, she wasn't expecting it to reach for her amulet.

Her brows creased into a thin line as she gazed down upon the jewelry. She'd almost forgotten it, forgotten that savory moment. It seemed as if a lifetime had passed. Before the darkness blazed through the barricaded window and before her mother's untimely death, rested the fading image of her mother enclosing the amulet within her palm, reassuring her that everything would be all right. Of course, it wasn't. She hadn't known why her mother gave it to her, but the comfort it bestowed to her was unmeasurable.

And it was the only thing delaying her death.

Dangling within an ace of its ashy fingers, the amulet beamed a shade of sapphire. It was a faint glow at first, seemingly harmless, until a powerful and prodigious wave abruptly immersed from the gem, propelling the darkness to spiral backward and catch aflame.

A blood-curling screech escaped its formidable form as it withered and thrashed. "You think I can die?" it growled out. "I'll return and rip that amulet off your corpse!"

Zardayna could only stare, mortified.

━━━━━━━☆ ★ ☆━━━━━━━

"Where did you find her?" the Madam inquired, glancing over the girl's small figure.

"A burning cottage," uttered Theonlore, his grip firm on the girl's wrist. He refused to make the mistake of releasing her from his grasp, for she'd already attempted running away several times in the dead of night and almost succeeded. Fortunately, he wasn't an old, crippled man.

"What's wrong with her?" the Madam asked, nonchalantly with studying eyes.

"The girl's traumatized," replied Theonlore, tugging her towards the glass table so that the Madam could better evaluate her. "Must've witnessed a death in the fire." When Theonlore, pulled her out of the fire, she ran. He didn't know why, considering he'd just saved her from the inferno. He presumed the disaster must've been too horrid, that she wanted to burn after what she bared witness to, or that she couldn't handle the contact of flesh against flesh anymore. He was curious to know her grievance, but it mattered not. The Madam wouldn't spare her the burden of her new life, and Theonlore had promised he'd never interfere.

"Her violet eyes are mesmerizing, and her silver hair will surely attract men's attention, but she's too frail," commented the Madam. "See to it that she's taken care of."

"Of course." As Theonlore turned to leave, he caught sight of the blank look in the girl's eyes. He'd seen that look more times than he could count; an empty, profound void of gloom that left a gap in your heart. It wasn't something a child should ever experience. With a strain in his forehead, a pang of empathy and guilt washed over his chiseled face. He'd regret a thousand lifetimes were he not to do anything. The Madam would most definitely take advantage of the girl's state.

"What will you do with her?" he questioned, all logic leaving his side.

The Madam frowned, displeased by his involvement. She set down the cup of tea in her hands and straightened in her ivory chair. "I don't see how that's any of your concern, Theonlore."

Theonlore gave her a pleading look, one he'd become foreign to. It felt odd and long forgotten to him. "She's only a child. It's not ethical to be corrupting her this young."

"You, of all people, should not be explaining ethics to me," the Madam snapped, clenching onto the flimsy piece of fabric keeping her attire intact.

"I know my sins, dear sister, and surely I will pay for them as will you," Theonlore said. He couldn't bear the thought of his hand partaking with the unholy act. Even a killer had their line not to be crossed. He couldn't go as low as to sell women for money, to sell them to rotten pigs who'd see them dry, beaten, and bloody. Seemingly, his sister was much worse than a killer. "I've brought you what you've requested," he apprised. "Another girl to become another prostitute. I nearly scorched myself in that fire for you, yet you deny me answers, answers I rightfully deserve. If you cannot tell me your plans for the child, I'll leave your whore house and take her with me."

"And what will you do? Raise it?"

"Not it," he told her. "And I'd be giving her a better home."

Her eyebrows rose at his opposition. "You're not qualified."

"Neither are you," he stated. "Nor any perverted household." Theonlore was suddenly reminded of how heartless his sister was. He tried to forget over the years, to suppress memories buried deep down by shutting his eyes from the truth, but it was too averse. "I'll give her away to a real family, then."

Theonlore could see her barely suppressed anger. "Don't let emotions cloud your judgment, sweet brother. You still owe me a debt."

"I know," Theonlore agreed. "But my emotions are the only thing keeping my humanity in check. Tell me, sister, what's keeping you?" He wanted to believe something was holding her back, as his sister fell silent, but he couldn't identify her reaction. Not clearly enough. Her jaw had twitched, and her breaths had shortened. It'd seemed he'd struck a nerve, though the moment vanished when she'd offered a roll of her eyes.

"You are the nosiest person in the world. I'm not selling her, Theonlore." Theonlore's shoulders loosened slightly. He wasn't entirely relieved, but his guilt merely subsided. "I'm bringing her to Neara," his sister continued. "There, she'll learn her place in the world."

"And if she doesn't?" he challenged.

The Madam gave her brother a threatening, cold glare that could veer the moon east. "I'll make sure of it."

He wasn't content with her answer, but he knew better than to meddle any longer than needed. At the very least, he had reassurance that the girl wouldn't be sold, though it hardly made the situation better. Hesitantly, he nodded, realizing she'd only be so reasonable and forgiving. With a tug, he ushered the pale girl out of the room.