1 Money, Money, Money...

Walking down the streets of Zeta City is a man whom everyone respects and envies; he is tall, broad-shouldered, dark, handsome, and has the voice of a bass that reverberated through women's racing hearts. That man is called Morland Grimm, and as he walks around feeling like the king of the world, every person pays him their respects, acknowledging the presence of the richest man in the entire country of Milna. His tailored suit was worth more than cars and his thousand kilowatts smile could shatter a girl's brain in a second.

Morland was very well aware of whom he was and how handsome he was, being not ashamed whatsoever of using his good qualities to his advantage; men felt threatened and women just could not keep their hands away from him. But presently, Morland had an objective, he was not one to stroll around and simply watch people falling at his feet, but it was such a beautiful morning and he felt that walking to the car dealer would make the whole purchase and first ride so much more special, that he could not help himself. He had currently purchased the newest sports car model that was available on Zeta City, it included many advantages such as a holographic image of the coveted parking space that was activated once you put the car on P; and an autopilot with 80% more accuracy on the road and the cherry on top of the cake that was the Waterbourne mode.

Yes, that beauty could transform into a boat.

Morland could not have been more ecstatic as he spoke with the salesperson and listened to them enumerating the advantages and bonuses included with his new car, and when he finally paid his brand new car was waiting for him at the car dealer's door, shining and sparkling against the sunlight, he watched as someone opened the driver's door to him and the only thing he could think about at that moment was sitting his behind on that white leather seat. As he strode with the gait of a sixteen-year-old seeing his first ever car, Morland heard a weird noise, it was loud and dry, like popcorn popping, but metallic, suddenly Morland could not control his legs and in a split second, he could see the car tilting in a weird angle.

Only Morland realized halfway that it was not the car that was tilting weirdly, but he that was falling fast toward the ground.

With a thud, Morland's body hit the floor, but he was already dead.

Beatrice Strange was running through the streets of Nova, her ginger hair was hidden under the hood of her cape and she moved along with the shadows, her shoes were so worn that parts of her feet were touching the cold stone floor and sending jolts of freezing winter up her spine. In her arms, she was carrying a bundle that she hugged so tightly someone might believe whatever was inside might be broken, but Beatrice knew her life depended on the objects hidden inside that bundle, and she hung to them just as much as she hung to her life.

Beatrice was adamant, she would not die, her father and mother had died, her brothers and sisters had died, but she would not die. She would live and with everything in her body, she would make sure that death would not reach her so soon. Her steps were hurriedly, yet she would frequently stop to carefully listen and guarantee that nobody was following her, and with her trained ears very little could escape her attention.

Finally, she turned a corner and saw her little house in the distance, all she had to do was avoid being noticed by her neighbors and, finally, she would be just a step away from a brand new life. Her heart jolted inside her chest with the anxious expectancy of being freed of her many misfortunes and finally having a real chance at living; with deep breaths, she calmed herself and steadied her feet, darting forward like an arrow, as dark as the night that provided her the protection she lacked on every other aspect of her life.

After avoiding windows and sleeping animals, she desperately reached the safety of her own house, although, to be completely fair, it offered very little on the safety aspect. Since her father had died the house had no one to take care of repair or maintenance, and even though Beatrice did her best to keep it as clean as possible, she was not strong enough to cut wood or fix the wall and windows that were so very much in need of repair. All she could do was plaster mud over the many holes and hang ragged pieces of cloth over the broken windows.

Beatrice dropped the bundle on top of her only table and rushed over to light a lard candle over which she wrapped a piece of leather, making the already dim light, dimmer. She rushed over to the table and unwrapped the bundle, inside were a piece of coal, a small piece of paper, a few colored candles, and a small silver knife. Beatrice sighed simply remembering the amount of effort she had to put into finding those objects, neither of those things was simple objects and every single one of them was enchanted, except for the piece of paper.

With a shaking hand, she grabbed the paper, her eyes darting over the letters and drawings that it contained; after reading it all thrice, to make sure that she understood everything and had it memorized, she grabbed the coal. Following instructions, she lightly blew at the tip of the coal, it ignited with a gleam much like amber, blinked thrice, and dimmed down; Beatrice then proceeded to draw a circle on her table, and another circle inside of the first one, at the space in between the two circles she began to write letters of an old and deep meaning of which she knew very little. Inside the smaller circle, she drew a hexagon, then she proceeded to draw lines that crossed and connected inside the hexagon, at the point where they met she drew another circle, and around that circle, she wrote a few more letters.

Beatrice stepped back and admired her work, it was decent enough she thought. Then she placed one candle at the top of the circle, two at each side and another at the bottom, forming a cross-like shape. Beatrice then took a deep breath, now the hard part began. She lit up the candles and instantly the design she had drawn with the coal lit up, filling her kitchen space with a warm light that reminded her of the times when the hearth was alight inside her house and her family was seated around it, eating soup and sharing the warmth

She took a deep breath, and in a shuddering whispered voice she began to chant out in a kind of singing voice, the enchantment she put all her hopes in.

With the nuances of her voice the candles would flicker, separately, as if forming the harmony behind the song, Beatrice felt as if an entire orchestra was inside of her small living room/kitchen space, and yet she could only hear her own voice. The drawing she had made on top of the wooden table suddenly started to smoke and with astonishment, Beatrice watched as it slowly, but surely ignited and consumed the wood of her only table. The fire, however, did not spread, it only carved that design on her table and when Beatrice sang the last letter it went up in a cloud of light and smoke, blinding and suffocating the poor girl.

She struggled to get to one of the windows, desperate to breathe again and get rid of that almost solid smoke that seemed to purposefully grip at her nostrils and neck, trying to kill her mercilessly, but before she could reach a window as if sucked by a black hole, the light and smoke converged at the center of the drawing, Beatrice heard a laugh that froze her to the cores of her soul, and with a puff, it all disappeared. No smoke, no light, and even the candles had been put out, leaving the poor girl completely in the dark.

Beatrice sighed, she had failed once again and all her hopes of having a decent life had vanished along with that devilish laugh and suffocating smoke. She reached around trying to find her lard candle, but instead, she touched something furry and unexpectedly warm. Her curiosity sparked up, she thought that if it had been a rat she would've gotten bitten by now, so it was safe to believe it wasn't a rat. Running her fingers through the fluffy fur of that creature she slowly relaxed, Beatrice thought that never before she had felt such soft fur, and it was so warm that she simply wanted to wrap it all around her and-

She stopped.

A pair of big round lamp-like eyes were staring at her and in them, Beatrice could read all the contempt in the world.

"You done?"