The wind blows with dry, strong gusts and violently rages across the plains of the forest. It pulls violently at the moaning branches and makes the piles of fallen leaves dance. While loose branches clatter on the mossy ground, the storm whispers between the old trees. A blood-red moon hides behind heavy clouds, which gives the forest a chilly dark mood. All the animals are hidden in their warm nests, safely tucked away from the bleak autumn weather. Hopeless screams resounded among the bare brambles. Cries for help and mercy. A warm fire crackles in the carelessly dug pit. Its orange flames hungrily lick the piled wood. The bright light cast dark shadows on the two white-orange tents that had been set up in a hurry. Here and there a guard strolls between the tense ropes. A wailing scream, colored with agony and pain, echoes from the small dark tent, hidden under the shade of a leafless willow. The soldiers around the fire chuckle when the death cry reaches their ears. The white tent, at the heart of the camp, is closely watched by two robust guards. Their beards are decorated with an untidy knot and wooden beads. Dried bloodstains adorn their spears and black armor. On their heads rests a shoulder-length chain mail hood with a close-fitting nose helmet. Respectfully, they bow their heads to the captain. The center of the spacious tent is adorned by six symmetrically placed poles. Each with their own cuts and traces of blood. Remains of previous victims... The left pole is decorated by a bundle of ropes that hangs untidily around the pole. Fresh blood slowly drips from their fibers onto the dry grass floor. A young woman, whose triangle-shaped body is tied against a wooden beam, peers seductively at the duo of guards. Sweat beads on their foreheads as they tried to avoid her gaze. A playful look shined into the young lady's bright yellow eyes. Black ink lines her monolid eyes, ending in a sharp point just below her dark eyebrows. Her seductively deep arched eyebrows are colored with the same kind of dark ink that accentuates her pale ivory skin. Her long orange hair flutters along her diamond-shaped face. A playful smile rests on her dark, heavy, lowerlip-shaped red lips. On the right side of her concave-shaped nose rests a black diamond, pierced into her flesh. Teasingly, she bites her lower lip and rubs her long black dress with her fingers. The deep V-collar reveals parts of her round breasts. Two silver earrings, shaped like a curly teardrop, adorn her pointy ears. A sky blue stone finishes each earring. Six black ropes rest around her slender neck. Each decorated with their own silver amulet. Some amulets are decorated by earth stones, others with diamonds. Each jewel has its own unique shape. Two of them are finished with letters in the ancient language of the Elves. The empty pole on her left shows some grooves from past executions. It is clear that this tent camp was regularly used for the same purpose... The playful woman's eyes slid at her sister , held firmly against the thick pole next to it. An almost inaudible moan escapes from her soft pink heart-shaped lips. Her darkbrown arched brows frown slightly as she once again tries to break free from the ropes drawn tightly around her hourglass-shaped body. Her midnight blue dress, which subtly emphasizes her round, full breasts, is smeared here and there with mud. It's hopeless. She gives up her efforts and fixes her almond-shaped eyes on the white tent roof. Tears burn in her aquamarine blue eyes. One of her long honey-blonde hair rests between her broken lips. Her pink skin shows blue discolorations here and there. The third woman, to her left, tries to stretch her finger comfortingly, but they are too far apart. The young girl is different from her sisters. She looks better cared for, richer, older... Her long white hair is decorated with a silver tiara, shaped like a curly branch and finished with white diamonds. A crescent moon paired with a bright yellow diamond adorns the heart of this tiara. In her pointy long ears she wears a pair of matching earrings. Around her neck rest four silver amulets on a white gold chain. Her porcelain-colored skin is stained by sand, blood and dark discolorations. The sleeves of her long olive green dress are partially torn, revealing her rectangle-shaped body here and there. Her dark blonde S-shaped eyebrows, upturned ice blue eyes and heavy upperlip-shaped mouth give her a cold but strong look. She squints as a fiery pain rages again through her narrow left wrist. She burns her icey eyes on the muscular man who slowly walks in. His inky black hair is tied tightly in a ponytail. His inverted triangle-shaped face is hairless. He nonchalantly wiped his bloodied hands on the guard's dark tunic. An amused smile appeared on his thin lips. His deep brown downturned eyes scan the room. "Ladies" he greets. "How unlucky you are," he continues. An unfamiliar accent rests in his rough voice. It resembles a raw Danish sound. "What have you done to Queen Dela?" the last lady asks bravely. The man grins and tosses a silver, ornately decorated crown onto the withered grass. The dark blue diamonds are colored by a red smear. Her heart beats in her throat as she rests her eyes on her mother's crown. The lady in the middle shivers for a moment, trying to hide her tears. The third girl shows no emotion. Like she doesn't even care about her mother. "What did you expect?" he mocks. His deep brown eyes stuck on the middle woman. He couldn't help it, but he must take a moment to admire her beauty. Never before has he seen a woman... so perfect. In silence he takes it all in; her oval face and Greek-shaped nose; her long wavy hair that looks almost gold in the warm light; her longer lashes and soft almond-colored skin... He observes it all. For a moment, he was just struck. Not even sure what he is doing anymore. It doesn't take long before he softly shakes his head and focuses again. "Which one of you is Isobelle?" he asks without looking away. To his surprise, there is no visible confession from any of the girls. Laughing, he turns and walks to the mahogany table on which various knives and pokers adorn. "I can do this the hard way too," he threatens, sneering. The first lady reacts defiantly; "Is that a promise?"The man grins amusingly and walks slowly towards her. He strokes her pale jaw and slowly sniffs her neck. A sultry scent of extinguished candles and cloves plays through his nose. "If you ask" he whispers, and slowly lowers his hand to her round breast. Her eyes sparkle as a playful smile curls on her lips. The man gently strokes her nipple and kisses her collarbone. The prisoner moans almost inaudibly. "I suspect you are Isobelle" mocks the man and takes a step back. "Your mother spoke of you with great envy." Isobelle laughs. "Is this supposed to hurt me?"Maybe," the man chuckles and continues, "You've got something I want. At least one of you. I thought your mom had it at first. But unfortunately, She spoke the truth. Seventy times,' he jokes. His mean joke makes the second girl whimper. For a moment this seemed to excite him. Another playful smile curls his slender lips. 'What? Not comfortable" he asks in a whisper and strokes her soft jaw. Her soft skin under his rough fingers feels cold. Her deep dark blue eyes seemed to burn through his soul. He casually plays with one of her honey-colored hairs. "What's your name?" he asks. The young woman knows this is not a question. More a demand from him to know her name. "Katara" she stammers in a sultry voice. "Katara" he repeats carefully. A gentle breeze waves through Katara's hair as the villain speaks her name. Isobelle stares at them, confused. Is no one aware of this spectacle or is everyone ignoring it? Deep in thought, Isobelle stares at the duo. Why does this feel? So... So strange. The air feels thicker. A soft whisper echoes in Isobelle's ears. She looks intently at the Elfman. His leather vest and boots reveal that he is not just a villain. Is he a mercenary? Then who hired him? And why? Katara shivers as the mercenary squeezes her round breast. "I'll be back for you" he whispers and walks to the third sister. Before he can ask her name, she spits in his face. Angrily, the mercenary closes his eyes and lets out a deep sigh. He rubs the spit from his jaw and slowly opens his eyes. "You must be Selina. The arrogant bitch your mother preached about,' he says angry. Without warning, he hits Selina. She groans and cringes as bright blood appears on her lips. "Now look what you've done" grumbles the mercenary and slowly walks towards the crying Katara. "Shh" he sighs and rubs her head. "Shh" he repeats and grabs a knife. "I've already shown a lot of patience with your whore mother today, so don't test me," he proclaims. "The Book of Shadows. Where and Who?" The mercenary lets out a stifled sigh when no one answers. "Now my suspicion goes to you," he says, pointing his knife at Isobelle. "But that doesn't mean I can't tease your sisters. In different ways," he says and gives Katara a wink. "I beg you, my Lord, show compassion. My sister and I don't want to know about that book. That book is dangerous. Nothing good comes from reading the pages," Selina begs. The mercenary looks amused at Selina. He presses the weapon firmly to Selina's throat. "Sister?" he asks mockingly. "No sisters" he whispers and looks at Isobelle. Isobelle laughs playfully. Loud screams in the tent camp catch the mercenary's attention."My lord," a guard stammers hastily and rushes into the tent. Blood adorns his black robes. "Knights, my lord. They are looting the camp. We must get you to safety. Now!" "Damn!" the mercenary swears and stares at the sisters. 'I need a moment. "My lord, they are attacking us. There is not a moment," protests the guard. Cursing, the mercenary rises. "My lord, there are too many," the guard says impatiently. 'Go. I'll catch up with you," the mercenary orders. The mercenary who clearly has power under his name, rushes to the youngest sister. "The book!" he shouts . "I have no idea what you're talking about" Katara whimpers and turns her head away from the sharp blade."Let her pig!" Selina shouts as loudly as her voice can, hoping the knights can hear her. The knights, whoever they are, have saved them from a painful death. That's for sure. Maybe even torture. She's not sure if the knights saved them on purpose, but one thing is for sure. Thanks to them, she and her sisters are still alive! Her white blond hair hangs wildly between her lips. Anger appears in the mercenary's eyes when a bloodied guard stumbles inside. 'My lord... The camp has fallen. Flee,' he announced, and falls to the damp ground. Desperate as he is, he places the knife in Katara's upper arm before hurriedly leaving the tent. Whining, Katara's muscles tense. Clear blood flows down her arm. "Katara" roars Selina and struggles violently with the ropes. A soft voice resounds in Isobelle's ears; "Wyrda" Uncomprehending, Isobelle looks into the chilly tent. Wyrda? Fate? What fate? Whose fate? Who said that? Why is she only hearing this? Does this have anything to do with Katara's injury? "Isobelle, do something. This is your fault! If Katara bleeds to death..." "I don't know if you noticed, sister, but I'm bound too," Isobelle replies coldly. Selina growls loudly. 'That is it. From this moment on you are banished!' Selina shouts angrily. "Selina" whimpers Katara. "Shh, it'll be fine. Everything will be fine, Katara" comforts Selina. Salty tears burn on Katara's cracked lip. "Isobelle shrugs. "If that's what you want... sister," she jokes. Fearing for her life, Katara stares at the knights who enter the tent. Trembling, she looks the knight, who is slowly approaching her, in his eyes. His white coat of arms is decorated with blood spatters. "Shh" he whispers softly. His voice... So soothing. With one word, he calmed down Katara. She stared silently into his clear eyes. His rough hand gently strokes her arm. "Wyrda" hears Isobelle again. She stares uncomprehendingly at the knight, calming Katara. Selina takes a deep breath as the tight ropes disappear from her body. "Katara" she says hastily. "She's fine", Reki replies, turning his gaze to Selina. A smile curls around his lips. "Let me help you", he finally says, and puts his hand on Katara's shoulder. Ward gives Reki a bandage. He accompanies Selina to the chair. "Everything will be fine" Ward whispers and takes her hand comfortingly. "Reki.. The mercenaries killed the queen, we are too late" he whispered in his ear. Reki slowly looks up at Ward. He nods and looks back at the lady in front of him. I'm going to be honest. You will feel this. "But I will do it as fast and carefully as possible. Katara nods, afraid of the Crusader. Even his gentle smile cannot warm her. "One" he begins and nods to Ward who holds Katara against the post. "Don't move," Ward whispers. "Tw" he says as he removes the weapon. "What happened to two and three?" Ward grumbles - and binds Katara's arm. Reki laughs. "It hurts more when you know it's coming." Ward rolls his eyes. Reki fixes his eyes on Isobelle, who looks at him silently with interest."Isobelle takes a cautious step back. Voices from the deep forbid her to join the conversation. And in the end, Selina banished her. She didn't need to help them anymore.Slowly she steps back and disappears from the view of the knights. She bows her head and disappears forever into the dark shadows of the forest. "My Lord" whispers Katara. Reki looks at her intently. "Thank you," she stammers and bows politely. Reki nods. He takes her hand and kisses his back. "My lord, the mercenary." "Will pay," Reki says solemnly. "Are you OK?" asks Reki concerned. Selina bows. She looks deeply into his eyes and walks out. Reki smiles, glances at Ward and follows her.