Chapter Two - An Encounter With A Demon (Part 1)

The Night of the Massacre…

It was Akila's nineteenth birthday and tonight was the Grand Ball she'd been anticipating for the past few weeks, not because it signified the age when a Cronoan female gained her independence, but because it was her official engagement with the Duke of Ryre — the son of her father's closest ally. As children, she admired and looked up to Ywain who was six years older than her measly ten years. Never had she attempted to hide her feelings and was often teased by her siblings for chasing after a boy who barely acknowledged her existence. If Ywain knew about her fondness for him, he must have deemed it a foolish girl's fancy.

Now a decade later, that silly fancy was turning into reality. This special evening would be the highlight of her life, signifying the start of a home she would build with the man she loved — to create a warm and loving family like her mother had. Queen Lilja was not only beautiful on the outside but on the inside as well. She was well-loved by her people, and a good listener to the cries of help from those in need. Five years ago, she died during an unfortunate childbirth where both stillborn and mother passed away.

The following year was a dark cloud of misery that hovered over the Empire until Sevia — her eldest sister's marriage — became a new source of happiness for their family. Akila's engagement was the first step to fulfilling the dream she envisioned as a child – a safe haven and a family of her own.

"I don't understand what you see in Ywain," her eldest sister Sevia, Crown Princess of Cronoa and Her Royal Majesty of Ouvla remarked idly, as she gently massaged her distended stomach, looking content and radiant for a woman in her condition. "Ywain's good looks are average compared to some of the suitors who came to ask for your hand."

Sevia was married to the King of Ouvla, a neighbouring nation that prospered through gold mining and was happily settled with three children and one on the way. In the beginning, it was not a love match but, her even natured sister managed to win over the solemn king's heart and their union flourished into a romantic legend that will be talked about years from now.

"Loving someone for his appearance isn't love," Akila pointed out wryly. "Ywain's not only Cronoa's hero but also educated, intelligent and an adept swordsman. Stories of his bravery and self-sacrifice have spread across the nations. Not to mention, he has earned the title of Duke through his own means after years of toiling. He's without a doubt a man who can provide for and protect his family."

"Ywain's achievements sound like hogwash to me. He's almost too perfect, I don't believe he's real," Kyna, her second eldest sister scoffed as she took a sip from her dainty teacup. "Your unhealthy devotion to Ywain will only end up hurting you. Take it from me. Those you put upon a pedestal are the ones who disappoint you the most in the end."

There was a pregnant pause.

Everyone knew about the scandal that happened between Kyna and her ex- betrothed whom she had loved unconditionally a few months ago, until the Prince of Salome betrayed her by selling out Cronoa's secrets to the enemy. There would have been bloodshed if Kyna hadn't bowed out of the engagement and convinced their father not to retaliate but to work on repairing bonds with the enemy nation instead.

Akila had nothing but respect for the second princess of Cronoa who chose to honour her royal duty than to avenge her broken heart.

Choosing her words wisely, she responded. "I know you're concerned for me Kyna, but I trust my instincts. Ywain has never treated me with violence and he's patient and kind. Unlike most men, he respects my decisions, and we are able to communicate openly about anything."

Kyna regarded her baby sister over the rim of her cup, her hazel tinged eyes filled with misgiving. "I'm happy if you're happy but, I will not be convinced of Ywain until he has proven himself in some way other than his own glorified achievements. If he truly loves you then he will be able to make you happy from something that's not of his own success."

"You're always asking for the impossible, Kyna," Errina, third princess of Cronoa mumbled through a mouthful of biscuits. "Though I understand what you're implying. Ywain does carry on like a high-handed peacock and he certainly has no problem telling me that I'm overweight, which is a bit rude if you ask me."

Despite the fact that Akila was the baby in the family, when she and Errina were in the same room, others would assume the slightly chubby princess to be the youngest daughter. Mainly it was because she often appeared unguarded and air-headed, seeming to be more interested in satisfying her voracious appetite than to socialise or dwell on marriage.

Sevia sighed aloud, picking up a napkin to dab off the crumbs on Errina's rounded cheeks. "How many times have I told you to talk only after you have chewed and swallowed your food? It's a bad habit that you have since you were a child."

"There's no one here to impress so I can eat however I like," Errina harrumphed, settling back against the garden settee. She waved another biscuit in the air, emphasizing her point. "Besides I'm never going to get married. Unlike the three of you, I think men are all silly creatures caught up in the war of their own making. Politics wear me out."

Her three sisters exchanged hopeless glances.

"Well, I'm going to marry Ywain and that's the end of it. Besides," — Akila reasoned as she stood — "father approves of our union."

"Don't forget that father's also the Emperor of Cronoa. Not every decision he makes will ensure our happiness," Sevia cautioned wisely, stealing a biscuit from Errina's plate.

Akila's lips stretched into a soft smile, regarding her sisters lovingly. "I know that after mama's death, the three of you are doing your best to look out for me and I'm not ungrateful but, I've always loved Ywain and if he's a bad man then it's all the more reason for me to love him and his flaws." She stood, dusting the hem of her dress. "If you'll excuse me, I'm off to prepare for the ball. I have to look my absolute best! I will see you tonight!"

Sevia watched their baby sister bounced happily back into the castle, skipping while singing merrily like a carefree child.

Kyna sighed with mild frustration. "I hope Akila won't regret her decision. To be honest, I've heard some unsavoury rumours about the Duke, and I don't have the heart to tell her about it."

"Akila's a stubborn child who won't listen to us unless she experiences it for herself. She's the type who has to learn things the hard way just like our dear brother, Garrin," Sevia uttered pensively. Both sisters grinned at the mention of their eldest sibling. "I know that Garrin's been keeping an eye on Ywain and if the Duke is really a bad egg, he would have protested the engagement. We know how overprotective he is after mama's death."

"There's truth to your words but, I guess my bad experience has left me bitter about the opposite sex," Kyna admitted regretfully followed by a wistful sigh. "How lucky you are to have found Henrik."

Sevia's heart went out for poor Kyna once a spirited princess with a smile as bright as the sun until her dreams crashed and burned. No one could have predicted Prince Salome's betrayal. It proved his love was an act all along. Kyna never told her sisters what happened that day, only that she was never going to choose love over duty again. "One day Kyna, I promise that you will find happiness again with the right man. What happened with Salome may have been a blessing in disguise."

Her sister appeared wary and doubtful. "Be it as it may, people of our station rarely marry for love, Sevia. I wish I can be optimistic like you but somehow" — Kyna glanced at the castle — a century old stone structure that withstood years of weathering, battle and change of ownership. Today, its reassuring height and massive built bearing the symbol of power and stability made her feel queasy — "I have an ill feeling about tonight. It's Akila's first step into womanhood and I don't want to jinx it but there's a storm coming."

No one in the family talked about Kyna's premonitions that had saved lives from time to time. Her warnings were not to be ignored. Queen Lilja had enlightened her daughters about the royal family's matrilineal history whereby their female descendants were often blessed with indescribable supernatural powers. Only a few women with these extraordinary abilities were recorded over time in the royal history books — the most notable gift being psychic telekinesis recorded in 1624 bestowed upon the Princess Greame of Cronoa. Unfortunately, she perished at the young age of thirteen.

Apparently, these women were called Sentients — rumoured to be descendants of God but most lived tragically short lives.

"What are we going to do?" Errina broke the silence.

"There's nothing we can do until we know the enemy we will be facing." Kyna's mouth tightened at the corners. "We can only pray that this is God's will and prepare for the worse case."

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Standing in front of the long, oval mirror, Akila admired her elaborate ball gown specifically designed to fit her body like a glove, hugging her curves and pushing up her womanly attributes in all the right places. Holding out her arms, she did a quick twirl while her boisterous laughter enveloped the room.

"It's absolutely stunning, Zenith!" she praised highly, clasping her dressmaker's hands with gratitude. "I have never worn anything this beautiful before. Thank you!"

Indeed, the gown was a stunning concoction of deep scarlet satin, encrusted with tiny sparkling jewels along the sweetheart bodice before flaring into a mildly layered skirt that gave the dress a voluminous illusion. It was modest yet perfectly elegant for a young woman on her coming out slash engagement ball.

A tell-tale blush spread along the dressmaker's nose bridge. "You're welcome, Your Highness. I took great pleasure in making it and no doubt you will be the most beautiful lady tonight."

"You don't have to flatter me, Zenith. There will be plenty of beautiful women in attendance, my sisters included. I'm fine with not being in the spotlight even if it's my own engagement ball," Akila declared frankly, admiring her resplendent reflection.

Zenith silently disagreed with her Royal Highness. While the older princesses were dazzling, Akila was a quiet beauty captivated in her own way. With shiny jet-black hair that swayed down to her rounded hips, a small tucked in waist and ample bosom, her figure would inspire poets to devote sonnets to her alluring sexuality.

"Your Highness, there is one last ornament to add to this gown." Zenith scurried to the trunk she had brought with her, removing a square velvet box, and handing it to Akila. "His Majesty entrusted me to prepare this tiara for you. It belonged to Queen Lilja when she was your age."

Akila gasped in shock, gently prying the lid open. Her jaw fell unhinged at the sight of a sparkling diamond tiara complete with inset pearls. "Oh my, it's beautiful. I had no idea my mother had this in her possession. I wonder if she wore this during her coming out ball." Excitement pulsed through her and she lifted the tiara. "Here, help me put it on."

Zenith did as she bade, and they both stared at the splitting image of Queen Lilja reflected in the looking glass. The dressmaker couldn't help but tear up at the uncanny resemblance, brushing the droplet away with a finger. "His Majesty will be proud of you."

Akila took a deep breath, her voice shaky as she gripped the sides of her dress. "I hope so."

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Meanwhile…

A tall, well-dressed gentleman swaggered up the grandiose steps of the castle, his elaborate walking cane tapping against the marble flooring. Tipping his hat at many curious gazes, he headed confidently to the main entrance where the palace guards were checking each guest before permitting them entry.

It was nothing less than what he expected from the royal guards. It wasn't every day a princess celebrated her birthday and engagement in one night. Security would be extremely vigilant, and he was lucky to have secured an invitation by other means. When it reached his turn, he deftly pulled out his invitation card from his coat pocket and allowed the guard to confirm its authenticity while another checked him for concealed weapons.

"Thank you for your cooperation," the guard remarked, handing back his invitation. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, my lord."

"Likewise," he murmured before strolling right into the enemy's lair.