Beltane

Elsewhere on that same night of Beltane, on the outskirts of Norton, stands an old, withered crone. A wild-haired elderly Roma puffs away like a chimney pipe. Madam O'Germanova's yellow-tinted eyes with age narrow into slits. She had no desire to enter the fortified lands before her, but this is what the runestones had asked of her too right the innocent shedding of blood at her hands.

A cloud of smoke escapes from Madam O'Germanova lips revealing crooked, yellow-stained teeth. She knew exactly who resided here and though the wizards had forgotten, her people had not. There were not many that her people feared but even they at the height of their power had been no match for the foreigners that came across the sea accompanying the legionaries, the Hassan's. The Precussor's had long been gone from these isles, yet their lineage remained in the wizard bloodline known as the Prince's.

With a disgruntled sound, Madam O'Germanova puts out her pipe. Pocketing her pipe with gnarled, spotted hands, she tugs her shawl closer around her shoulders causing the beads to mystically twinkle together. Pressing forward with a grim expression, she passed the faded sign reading "7th Meadow Lane," to a gravel path leading through a dark, thick forest.

With care, Madam O'Germanova pulls out a twinkling stone from her pocket. The stone begins to glow lighting her path much like a lantern would. The shadows of the woods creep just out of the reach of the light, but Madam O'Germanova is unable to shake her feeling of apprehension. The woods were silent without so much as the cricket of an insect or of a woodland creature.

Abruptly a thick, gray mist begins to fill the woods blurring most of the surroundings and shrouding the gravel path before her. Madam O'Germanova presses her lips into a thin line of apprehension. The mist before her was no natural creation, but rather one that reeked of magic.

Clutching the sunstone in her hand, Madam O'Germanova stubbornly pressed forward as the air began to grow more oppressive. She had not gone far up the path when she was forced to rest on a large boulder. The magical fog seeped into her skin weighing her body down. It was intended to exhaust enemies before they ever reached the outer perimeter of the Prince's home.

Still, Madam O'Germanova is not one to be easily deterred. She would always remain persistent in her path wherever that might take her. Rising to her feet, she wearily staggered forward for what seemed like hours. She could not tell the time as the tree canopy obscured her view of the stars.

The temperature abruptly dropped causing Madam O'Germanova to see her breath turn into a cloud of smoke. She stopped in place feeling the presence of the dead. She remains in place as an eerie pearly figure emerges from the woods. The being before her was cold and terrible, an awful existence that not ought to walk in this world and yet it did.

The unnatural existence appeared to be a handsome man once in death, but now an inhuman existence that went against nature. "Gypsy, why have you entered these lands?" Sir Knight Prince harshly inquired. The dark line on his neck eerily pulsed connecting his head to his ghostly body.

Madam O'Germanova clutched the sunstone in her hand as if it could protect her from the power and wrath of the inhuman presence before her. "The Spirits have spoken and demanded that I deliver a prophecy into the hands of the Master of the Prince's."

Sir Prince Knight is silent for some time causing cold sweat to glisten across Madam O'Germanova's face. "Very well, Gypsy, but know this much. Should you act wrongfully, the same in turn shall be redoubled against your bloodline."

Madam O'Germanova paled at the threat but nodded her head in understanding. The awful presence commanded her to follow causing the magical fog to disperse. The heavy weight on her body all but vanishes leaving her body that much lighter. But despite the relief, she felt none with the presence of the dead before her.

Madam O'Germanova crinkled eyes held no trace of shock or awe as the ghastly existence led her from the woods out onto the immaculate grounds. In the distance, a castle-like manor looms ahead in threat. Past the grounds and up a gravel path, she wearily climbs marble steps.

The large grand doors swing open of their accord revealing an imposing slender witch with short mostly dark hair swept to the side like raven's wings. The tall witch, Georgine Prince stares down her nose at the gypsy crone that smelled of old, foul magic. "Sorceress," Georgine sneered, "why have you darkened Prince Manor with your foul presence."

Madam O'Germanova takes no offense at Georgine Prince's comment. There was no lie to be found. In her foolish youth, she sought power by any means necessary. She ventured into many dark places and did not find what she sought. It was only with the passing of time, she learned what she truly sought was not power but rather to be the master of her own fate. With every choice she had made, she had forged her own dark destiny and sealed her own fate.

"A prophecy," Madam O'Germanova solemnly answered meeting the dark eyes of Georgine Prince.

Georgine searches the face of the old crone and finds no lies to be found. "Your very presence is revolting, Sorceress, but I will not turn you away. Come," she ordered leading the way down lavish halls towards the study of the head of the Prince household, Reginald Prince.

Sir Knight Prince does not follow remaining in his inhuman presence on the grounds. His ghastly eyes peer through the manor following the two women inside the Manor. He trusted not the Gypsy and he would be ready to attack should the slightest provocation be given.

They arrive before a glistening oak door, Georgine raises her hand to knock yet the door unlocks on its own opening a crack. The cold, steely voice of Reginald Prince emerges from the study, "Let the Sorceress enter, Georgine."

"As you wish, brother," Georgine frowned staring down at the old crone, before stepping aside to permit the Gypsy to enter the study. The old crone enters the study and the door locks firmly right after. Georgine knows it's futile to attempt to listen sensing powerful spells obscuring the private study of her brother. With a brisk step, she returns to her son, Rodrigo to comfort him. The presence of Sir Knight Prince in his current form could be felt by all living being setting their hair on edge.