"Csilla?" Prince Drystan Val Devitt called out the princess's name softly.

No answer came. His worries got the best of him. Prince Drystan Val Devitt stepped inside the dark entry of the room. As he went inside the room, the wooden floor creaked with each step he made. After a few more steps, the prince walked cautiously. It was when his nose was slapped with an overwhelming stench of blood. It made his stomach lurch.

"Uuuhhh..." Barfed the prince. He shook his head in an attempt to ignore the stench of blood. A sudden movement registered at the edge of his vision, a movement that was somewhere within the darkroom. Prince Drystan stood motionless upon the sudden movement as he waited for something more. Shivers were sent through his spine leaving him cold and breathless. Then out of a sudden, his eyes went wide.

"Csilla!" He blurted. He resolutely went deeper inside the room, not bothered anymore by the foul odor. "Csilla! Csilla! Where are you?!" He frantically shouted her name repeatedly.

"Csilla...?"

Prince Drystan's vision then adjusted at the dim interior of the dark main room of the house. The young princess's name was caught stocked in his throat.

Bodies lay strewn in the main room. Bodies were all broken and torn some were stabbed deeply. As deep as the sword that the young princess's holding. All laying lifeless and discarded like sacks.

"Tell..."Princess Csilla started while swaying her sword as she watched the blood flow through the blades, "...do you know anything about this Prince Drystan?" she interrogated.

Drystan's breathing hitched as he stood there in horror, sickened by the sight. There was only one word shrieking in his mind.

'Mercenaries!'