That's messed up.

"We're detecting movements in the Western Canyons. Do you think we should send reinforcement troops back to our pack house?"

Sir Marshall consulted Raven as they stood in the grand, but sparsely decorated, hall of the Aningmoon Castle for a meeting along with Bleu Del Luna's security unit.

"No, there's no need to," Raven's reply was swift and unwavering.

Raven's sight was fixated on the map, unmoving from the three large chunks of land uniformly distributed with supernatural forces. Her eyes traced the borders of the territories over and over.

The North-East was occupied by the Vampires of the Blood Empire.

The West was inhabited by witches of the Spirit Kingdom.

Clear North, around Sweden, had forests infested with wandering Huldras, forest spirits, rivers flooded with Nøkkens, water spirits and canyons acting as hiding grounds for rouge wolves.

To the South, within the majestic Shadow Empire, rose a cult who identified themselves as Creatures of God. Not many knew of their existence, motives or purpose of fights. They were violent and acted in the name of God.

Whoever he was.

Circling the western border of Europe with her index finger, Raven spoke up, "Secure the Western front and alert our insiders in the North. Southern territories are under the castle's constant vigilance because of a revolt brewing. Since not many are aware of Lady Adelaide's presence in the palace grounds, I reckon we'll be safe. Still, you must alert our pack house just in case he tries something."

"And leave the Eastern front open? For them to march in as they wish?" Sir Marshall questioned in exasperation.

Raven cracked her knuckles.

"If we secure the Western front as soon as we caught signs of their movement they'll know we have an insider. Furthermore, North-East front is a wasteland full of nomadic Rouges and exiled spirits. Movement there isn't uncommon. Though I'm fully aware that an open attack from West is the last thing he'll do. It would be absolutely dumb and Michael is anything but that."

"Well that would be it then. Inform the border head by tomorrow and have backup called for them from packhouse. You have till midday. You may go now," Sir Marshall announced, his gaze unfaltering from Raven's determined and confident stance.

The unit nodded in affirmative. She rolled up the map in one swift motion and handed it to one of the other trusted guards for safe-keeping as they scattered out.

Raven had already changed into her uniform-white shirt, leather shoulder plates and armlets holding poisoned arrow heads, black cargo pants hiding ammo, waist belt with twin gun holsters and a sheathed sword, lace-up fingerless gloves covering her iron clad wrists and lace-up boots to cover her ankles-looking as professional as one could get.

She jumped up on the table and sat cross legged, her chin-length curly hair fluttering in the process. The ravenette gave him a wide smile and Sir Marshall couldn't help a chuckle that escaped past his ever guarded lips.

"Good work today, as always," he complimented, fidgeting with the collar of his expensive shirt that he wore on formal visits only.

"I know Mr. Marsh, it's hard to keep up with my exceptional track record. Don't sweat it," she winked at him, grinning cheekily.

Sir Marshall leaned forward to smack her unguarded head.

"Look at all that young blood boiling. You better put it into work or by my age the only working muscle in your body will be that nasty tongue of yours," he grumbled, twisting her ear as she squealed in laughter.

"Now that Lady Adelaide's got a mate, I expect more training hours from you," he huffed out, backing away, as Raven scoffed.

"You mean less training hours, Mr. Marsh. She's got her Knight in Shining Armor now and he's literally the Alpha King. A rumored True Blood at that. She's going to lead a happy life wedded to a royal and have cute little babies while I get to eat all the cakes in the world and gain all the weight I can because what use am I now? What can I give her that her perfect mate can't?" the ravenette pouted, laying on the table with her legs crossed on her knees as her grey eyes stared up at the seemingly endless ceiling and the candle-lit chandeliers which adorned it. "Who lights them anyway? Is there are a job such as candle lighters? Are they recruiting? How do I apply?"

Her thoughts of switching professions came to an abrupt halt with another of Sir Marshall's smacks.

Whining, she protested, "Ouch Mr. Marsh! You know bullying pupils with corporal punishments is the worst approach to inculcate learning!"

"Yes Raven, I know better than to smack an unguarded student who has been learning combat half of her life. Fight bad, hitting hurt," Sir Marshall ended in a fake baby voice that disgusted the life out Raven's soul.

Repulsed, she announced, "Never. Never do that ever again. It's absolutely gross."

Sir Marshall pouted and shivers ran up her body.

"Whoa! Okay sir, what did you expect, me to attack you back?" Raven questioned, looking unfathomably uncomfortable as she knew her teacher was enjoying it.

"Precisely."

Raven raised an eyebrow in question, only to be attacked by her folded hand-fan in her face by her teacher.

When did he...?

Unconsciously, her hand felt her left pocket and it was empty.

"Goddess that hurt!" she shouted, swiftly dodging another attack with her mental plated wrists.

"Under no circumstances whatsoever are you to let your guard down."

There was a glint in his brown eyes.

Raven spotted sheathed dagger flipping in his hand just before he could chuck it to her rib. The ravenette was quick to grip the hand-fan, twist it along with his hand and do a back-flip down the table.

The flat of her heel squeaked against the floor was the only source of life in the Grand Hall other than their hasty breaths.

"You getting rusty Mr. Marsh?" the ravenette smirked, sneakily trying to hook her foot with his and make him trip.

Sir Marshall though, wasn't the head of security for nothing.

Before she could trip him, he dropped the fan. Her balance wavered and he interlocked his leg with hers. A quick nudge on the back of her knee and Sir Marshall had Raven pinned against the table with her face down and hand behind her back.

Locked.

"Fuck you sly ol' Marsh. I didn't know you were so serious about this," Raven grumbled under her breath.

With the back of the dagger, Sir Marshall smacked her head. "Is that how you adress a teacher?!"

"Oh never mind, I give up," Raven informed but unsurprisingly, the grip never loosened.

"You were appointed to protect, raised to fight, to be one of our best, Raven. Your identity isn't associated with our Lady Adelaide. You are your own person with or without her presence. Stop with this attitude!"

"Yeah I can see how brightly I shine without a motive," came Raven's muffled reply as she struggled to free her hands.

"Don't delude your duty with the purpose of your existence. We always have a choice," replied Sir Marshall, tightening his grip on her wrists.

"Well then old Marsh, it's gonna sting a bit," Raven grinned. She stomped her pointed heel on his foot, he winced, strength faltering from his hand that held her head down. The distraction gave way for Raven to stand back straight. Using the table she kicked them back. Sir Marshall groaned, unhanding her to maintain balance when she pulled a dagger out of his waist belt and pointed it at his chin.

She smirked.

Sir Marshall rolled his eyes.

"Are you going soft with your attacks?" Sir Marshall frowned, giving her a quick chop in the stomach that had her on her knees, moaning for a second where Sir Marshall was about to give a victorious smirk when Raven elbowed the back of his knee and had him on the ground in seconds.

He grunted. The marble floor was harsh on his kneecaps.

In a flurry of quick motions, she hooked her feet with his hands, climbed on his shoulders and elbowed his nape in a blow that had Sir Marshall in a coughing fit.

His little girl grew up to be so motherfucking heavy!

"You know I can continue doing this until I win or simply use a weapon to end this," her words were laced with breathy pants.

She was too soft to hurt unintentionally.

"And you know I can push you back on the ground that might cause a serious head injury because of momentum?" was Sir Marshall's counter question, struggling to stand up under the weight of Raven in her fully equipped uniform.

"I wouldn't call that absolute because I could stop the motion with my feet and you could end up disarming yourself or having a spine injury."

Or you could hurl my head on the ground and break it open.

"You know how this conversation is absolutely beyond the point?"

"I never got yours to begin with. So I'm completely fine," Raved huffed, getting off his back and going back to pick up her hand-fan. Her steps were slow and unsure. He got her thinking.

"Be a little kind to yourself," Sir Marshall voiced out, promptly getting up and replacing his daggers as they originally were. Fuck his muscles hurt! He should have stretched out a bit before jumping into a fight.

"I don't deserve it. You know it." Her fingers kept fumbling around her fan, opening and closing the crystal ends she concentrated on the clicking sounds it made. Adelaide gifted her the fan, a hand-me-down from the Vampire Count of Blood Empire. She had deduced that the clear quartz crystal would bring her luck.

"You're stuck in the past and you have made Adelaide your only escape."

Raven scratched her nails against the crystal, faster as every second passed.

Always looking for distractions.

"Mr. Marsh, are you counseling me right now?" Raven turned to face him, sharp eyebrows furrowed in suspicion.

"I'm trying to make you face the reality. You cannot keep running away from it," the old blonde tried to reason.

He could sense it, though subtly, a peak in the sad pheromones around her. All he wanted in that moment was to hug her close and tell her that it would be alright, that he'll be there for her. But he didn't. He couldn't.

She needs to realize it herself.

Raven's breath hitched; grey eyes suddenly morphing into a protective look. The pheromones disassipated as quick as they emerged. Like always, her whole stance was guarded. He was a true enemy now. An enemy of her emotions. An enemy who can tear her defences and leave her raw and open for the world to witness and mock.

But he was also a person she respected and looked upto all her life.

Raven was in conflict, not knowing weather to jump in the hole of protection he was providing or run away, as always.

Or was she?

"I'm not running away from it, Sir Marshall. I live with it. I'm always living with it. He's always there. In my thoughts, around me, laughing at me, snickering at me, mocking me. I put up with him everyday and night. Look at me now, all I want to do is give up but I'm here. Stuck. And you say that I am running away from it?! Mr. Marsh, your pity makes no sense."

He saw it coming even before the conversation started.

Raven convincing people while she's trying to convince herself in the process.

"I'm not pitying you Raven, you don't need any one else's pity but yours. He's dead and you're carrying his weight."

He knew his words were harsh. He knew he was intentionally hurting her. But it was supposed to be said.

Better late than never.

Her crystal hand-fan lurched at his face, accompanied with an enraged shout.

He got through.

Cold Raven just showed an emotion.

He caught the fan with ease.

"I killed him Mr. Marsh! He's my burden to fucking carry! Always and forever!" the ravenette all but screamed at her mentor's face, grey eyes seemingly growing deader on the inside. The unflinching glare at him, her deep grey eyes that looked his a grave. His grave that she carried within him. Forver burdensome.

"What's done cannot be undone Raven Crown. All you need to do is move on and live for yourself."

Sir Marshall stepped forward to give her the hand-fan back and instinctively Raven took two steps back.

Her ghostly eyes stared holes through his soul, teeth ground together and hands tightening in painful fists. She was refraining herself from saying anything further. She knew what to say, exactly, and hurt him in the most painful ways. But she didn't.

The guard was back again.

Before Sir Marshall could pry her any further, Raven beat him to it.

"I'll live for Addie. That's how I atone for my sins."

With her cold reply, she was already speed-walking on her way to climb the spiral staircase and walk away from the conversation.

Sir Marshall clicked the fan on his palms.

"You're not a sinner...you just have a very ticking moral compass that you try to conceal..." Sir Marshall groaned out, rubbing his nape. "Fuck that's gonna leave a bruise just fine. Her attacks have become more precise."

Limping, because suddenly falling on your knees on a marble floor is deadly to your kneecaps, Sir Marshall proceeded to walk out of the room when he sensed it.

He was too in the moment to have ignored such enormous magical presence around him.

Jerking behind, surely, he saw a tail wagging behind a pillar and glittering pink shoe poking out.

"Who's there? Come out this instant or I will have to use force and believe me, it won't be pretty," Sir Marshall announced, unsheathing his sword and pointing it at the pillar, closing in.

Unsurprisingly, a dog's face popped out. He was a Golden Retriever, brown fur shining under the moonlight. With his panting tongue hung out, his face morphed into the classic 'puppy face' and then Sir Marshall heard, "Oh dear! Would you hit smol and cute me? I'll pwomise to never steal your food! I'm just a lil doggo, in the wrong place at the wrong time..." in the fakest of childish accents pawssible.

"I can see your shoe," was Sir Marshall's straight faced reply.

Sighing, two heads poked out in sync.

"Hey Mr. Marshall! I like you, you're cool! Fight me!" Princess Honora Lockeheart exclaimed, waving a glittery pink gloved hand at him.

"He's weak, didn't you just see how badassedly Raven defeated him? She's an absolute Queen with her legs," Henry grumbled, clearly unimpressed.

Sir Marshall's heart thundered, being caught by a Royal when he wasn't in his best presentable form left him flustered and out of words. He hastily withdrew his sword and clumsily sheathed it.

Sir Marshall bowed in a hasty curtsy. "Your Royal Highnesses," he greeted in what almost sounded like an exasperated sigh.

"That's not a word Henry, you fool, and its more than evident that Sir Marshall taught Raven how to fight. He's her sensei!" Honora retorted, walking up to Sir Marshall with her twin brother and royal dog in tow.

"Oh! Sensei sounds cool! Are you really her sensei? That means you must be really old! Are you her father? Master? Did you pick her from an orp-"

"Henry! Brother! Why don't you remind the maids that it's time for Ace's dinner to be served!" Honora cut in, peachy lips held tight in a controlled facial expression. Her stance demanding respect, involuntarily so.

As expected from an Alpha Royal.

"Is it now? Come to think of it... shouldn't we head to dinner as well? Mother would be furious if we end up being late in front of guests!" Henry exclaimed, bending down to pet the fur of their majestic royal dog he spoke, "Ace, buddy, why don't you run up to Macy for food? Nora and I will meet you at the terrace later, kay?"

The dog barked in agreement, licked his master's face and ran away. Henry let out a groan, sinking lower on the ground.

Very unexpected of an Alpha Royal.

"Um-excuse me, your highness, with all due respect...shouldn't you be...I mean, if you don't mind me asking, that is, why were...like I understand it's your castle and all...-"

"I don't like sensei anymore," Honora whispered to her brother.

Pouting, Henry questioned, "Why though? I thought all Sensei were great!"

"This one clearly isn't..."

"Because he's stuttering?"

"Oh because he's a goddamn nervous wreck!"

"Sister! Language!"

"He's still building his sentence..."

"Do you think he'll ever end up asking?"

"I think we should just leave."

"Sure sister, then we can fight Raven!"

"Raven it is!"

"See, I told you I know better!"

"Huh? Excuse me? I'm older and I decided that Raven is better. Don't get ahead of yourself Henry."

"But-I said it first!"

"It's for who said it last!"

"You're cheating!"

"We agreed on no rules brother..."

"But you just made one up now!"

"Yeah well, now we do."

"You're unfair..."

"Justice always is."

"That's messed up."

"Says the one playing human video games all day."

"Oh common, Ben plays them too!"

"He's no better."

"He's going to be the king, Nora!"

"I wonder how long he'll last with that whipped attitude."

<3