2. The Prophecy.

Deep in the woods, a fuzzy innocent animal is growing impatient-scared, one might say-as it was time for it to meet with its lover. But little did dear old Zuri know.

"They are lunatics! Who do they think they are? For years I have been running, running for my dear life, and they just think they can walk into my life again?" She was blabbering to the point even she could notice. Zuri was never like that, she knew that much. Yet, when every single person she'd ever cared about left her, she sadly lived the rest of her life realizing just what loneliness was all about. Couple of years later, she'd learn to face her own demons by making new friends.

Not just human ones.

"You also think I'm loosing it, don't you?" Asked Zuri, to a frightened squirrel.

The average-sized rodent took a pause from its instinctive noises that, apparently, only it could spontaneously understand. Observing with carefully motioned stares from the tree opposite next to Zuri, it waited. Perhaps to see what she would do next. You see, staring was a part of a squirrel's instinct to stay alive, and that was how they decided whether one was going to hurt them, be friendly, or just walk by.

The smell of damp moss filled Zuri's nose, but she wasn't complaining. What bothered her was the beautiful scent of flowers that she had to inhale from time to time. There was only one thing Zuri hated more than humans-Flowers! Well, she hated cold weathers, snakes, olives, the color white, papayas, and the list definitely goes on and on.

What she did hated truly, was herself.

"Fuzzy buddy, those humans who claim to want me now, where were they all these years ago? Nowhere to be found." She sighed, silently observing her environment. "I," she was going to complain, to explain to her fuzzy buddy exactly what it was. What she was feeling. But the words just didn't come out.

What was there to say anyway? Her life was indeed sad and she didn't think there was any reason to make it worse. The only right thing for her to do was to run again. She never liked it in that forest anyway.

****

Dalia's Fortress.

Present Day.

"Your majesty, what is your next request?" Queen Dalia's most trusted subject and world's most terrifying (at least they should fear him) knight, Sir Neville, asked as his head was still slightly bowed at the sight of his queen.

Dalia on the other hand, was already feared by the entire world(although, they needn't be one bit afraid of her). Both of them were opposites of each other, and perhaps that was the only reason they bonded. Well, one major reason.

"Rest, for now." Replied Dalia. She was terrifying because of her acts on the outside, as no one knew nothing about what was dwelling on her inside.

Whereas, Neville on the other hand, he was quite a decent laddie in the eyes of everyone else, and a monster on the inside.

"Rest? Your majesty, our plan is about to be fulfilled any moment from now, and you wish for us to rest?" Neville's eyes squinted as he took a clearer look at his queen, wondering what had gone wrong with her. She was heartless, ruthless and mercilessly, and yet just days ago after the incident, it had somehow changed her. Now, Dalia was more quiet, prudent and fragile. "The Dark One could be marching up in here any moment from now-"

"-what we heard was only a rumor-"

"-a rumor that is likely to be true." His voice was dry and rasp, while his breath was shaking as anger washed over him. "And why did you even spare them when you had the full opportunity to had slit both their throats-"

Cutting in, Dalia grunted in frustration. Times without numbers had she mentioned to him to ease his mind from the unknown. "The past is in the past, the future is now." Up on the top floors, where the wind blew stronger and the sunlight was more brilliant than ever, Dalia left the balcony and strode over to where Neville furiously stood. Slowly, she brought up her hands over to his rosey cheeks, feeling his blood boiling already. The cold look in his eyes did little effort to conceal the anger and rage he was feeling. Neville was tall and handsome, but that wasn't just the only feature that attracted Dalia over to him. "Everything will be alright. You trust me, don't you?" Her soothing voice whispered gently as she asked, and in that moment, anyone, not just Neville, would had fell for such a magnificent woman that she was. She was bold, brave and certainly seductive.

Surely that feminine side of hers had gotten her to the position she was presently. It had gotten her what ever she yearned for.

Most of the time...

****

The Home of The Blood Fairies.

Present Day.

"See, you could had let me handle it!" Frowned August, with his arms akimbo.

"Oh shut up, August! Are you going to blame me now? Are you-" Impatient Ciara was saying when the noise of cracked woods distracted her. Whenever she needed to, she had the ability that notice the slightest sound of any object tussle, an unusual noise whatsoever. You couldn't even tiptoe to her bed chambers and dear old Ciara wouldn't find out.

"You should had waited, remained still and just maybe-"

"You would have me yelled at for 'just maybes?' August, she is the Dark One. You didn't think it would be that easy, did you?" Normally, Ciara couldn't utter more than a few sentences without shouting at the top of her lungs. She was impatient and mostly grumpy almost every time. Yet, that moment, the silhouette of a shadow caught her eyes and even as she replied August, she couldn't help herself from staring into the unexplained sight before her eyes. Behind the huge tree before her, was a shadow moving stealthily.

"You could have trusted me! At least..." August loved that moment as he was a man of discipline. He loved correcting someone once they've gone wrong, making amendments was his own specially, and being with Ciara had given him more opportunities to excel fruitfully in his calling. But in that moment as much as he admired the particular period of time, he knew something was wrong. "What is it, Ciara?"

"Someone," replied Ciara instantly, "or something is behind those bushes."

The second he heard the words of Ciara clearly, he unshielded his sword and wore on him his defense coat. "Who are you?" Carefully and slowly, he brought his legs to walk forward. Ciara followed behind him. "Speak now while you still have the chance-"

A defeating scream under the influence of some excruciating torture that sent shivers to the very depts of one's soul was suddenly heard, and the twain rushed forward to the call.

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