As the morning star rose, Priscilla and Sharazz met up. Pleasantries aside, Sharazz quickly led Priscilla aside and took her toward the so-called source for her trial. If she was going to put her people's lives at stake, she needed to know it was for a trustworthy cause.

  Once the two women were outside the palace's back exit, they moved toward the outer perimeter, where a small nondescript building nestled against the palace walls. The area was guarded, and a group of men sat at the sides of the entrance. They opened their eyes briefly and acknowledged the matriarch respectfully before returning to their meditation.

  Inside, the building led them down a seemingly endless flight of stairs that burrowed into the depths of the sand. The further down they went, the more a chilling dampness pervaded the air and stifled the sound within.

  "We're almost there, little witch. How do you feel?" Sharazz asked.

  "I'm fine, why? Should I be concerned about something?" Priscilla questioned with a soft chuckle.

  Priscilla did not sense maliciousness in Sharazz's words but a sense of playfulness. The two women continued downward until they came to an emblazoned gate that towered over them. The iciness in the air intensified to an unreasonable level, snapping like a wintery cold wave.

  Sharazz chanted in a strange language and knelt before the gate. She placed her hands onto the ground, and with it, the sand raised and pressed against the overbearing gate, pushing the two halves open with a mighty push.

  "Enter, little witch. You must do the trial by yourself." Sharazz said, her voice strained as her hands remained glued to the ground.

  "You're not going in?" Priscilla halted her steps and tilted her head.

  "No. You must visit the source on your lonesome. And I must keep the gates open."

  Priscilla merely nodded and walked through the gate into a straight, unlit corridor. Ultimately, it bloomed into a wide-open space that burst with white light radiating out of it. Once Priscilla's eyes adjusted to the blinding light, inside the chamber was a white object tethered to the center of the room. Strands of silk-like tendrils surrounded and split off it, latching onto the walls.

  The chilliness in the chamber peaked as flakes of ice sprinkled down from the air. Priscilla neared the cocoon-like entity, eyeing it with confusion and familiarity. Her instincts kicked in, and she reached up and touched the cocoon. Visions flashed before her eyes, and a disorientating sense of fatigue slammed into Priscilla's body before a convergence of white tendrils surrounded her body and enveloped her.

  Priscilla's eyes snapped open, and she floated like a cloud in the sky, watching over the two continents below. Battles raged, and elements swirled in an explosive array of colors that swirled violently. Humans lined the border, chanting and manifesting. The raging flames and surging tides slammed into the demonic beasts rushing across, yet no matter what, the battle would not end.

  A colossal beast with an armored hide of scales rushed in, slamming against a wall of man and shield. Grunts echoed and spread across the battlefield. Then, a group of women floated into the sky behind the shieldbearers, their gowns fluttering as they rose, thunder quaking through the sky as lightning struck down the beast repeatedly.

  The women's fatigue magnified, and they lowered back onto the earth into the safety of their backlines, but the situation remained dire.

  Blood flowed like the rivers, surging rapidly toward a distant corner of the battlefield. Strange creatures chanted and drew the blood into bottomless vessels that contained it within. Humanity struggled, and the demonic beast's frenzied assault only increased with every passing moment.

  Then, the battle changed. The frantic beasts pulled back, sounds of hissing and roaring clashed against one another, and humanity gained a moment to breathe. Tempestuous winds flared, and the crackle of wings echoed as a monstrously large butterfly fluttered above the battlefield.

  The butterfly began to transform as the elements roiled around it, transforming into a woman who walked atop the clouds gracefully. Her black hair fluttered in the wind, and her black gown rustled as she stepped down toward humanity.

  Knuckles turned white as the shieldbearers clenched their grips. Eyes darted from one side of the battlefield to the next, and backs pressed against one another. Despite the woman's help, humanity did not feel the reassurance one would expect. Despite the demonic beasts pulling back, humanity's survivors did not rejoice. They did not welcome the woman with open arms. No, they merely tensed with worry.

  The woman shook her head with cold, hollow eyes as she saw their state. "Regroup in the backlines. I'll keep them at bay." She said flatly to the wounded humans.

  They pulled back without so much as a word of praise or gratitude. Sweat drenched their backs, and their weapons remained drawn.

  As the battlefield cleared, all that remained was one lone woman draped in black against a tide of demonic beings.

  "Must you go to such lengths to protect the ungrateful?" A man's voice said as a cloaked being walked out from the demonic side. "They'll never consider you one of them. No matter how much you struggle or fight, they only turn their backs, neglecting your kind intentions."

  "Silence." The woman snapped back. "I will do as I please, save your lectures for someone who cares."

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  The man laughed before sending a pillar of blackened flame whirling toward the backlines of the camp. "Struggle then. Protect them if you can."

  "Bastard, are you actually wasting time with them when I'm standing right before you?" The woman snarled and raised her palm, sending a blast of wind at the flame and launching it into the air. "Do you think I'm a decoration?"

  "No, but if that's an invitation, I can have a spot made for you in my bedchamber." The man cackled.

  The woman's gaze turned icy as she slapped her hand forward, causing the earth to roil and jut out with spikes piercing toward the man.

  Priscilla watched from atop the clouds in a confused daze as their battle intensified and spread toward the demonic continent. She tried to focus on the clash and the figures involved, but while she could see everything happening, the faces of the demons and the woman were distorted and unrecognizable.

  "What are you trying to show me?" Priscilla asked.

  As she spoke, she felt something soft land on her shoulder. Priscilla craned her head and saw a white butterfly perched. Its wings softly fluttered as it stared at Priscilla.

  'I show you the cycle of inevitability. What has happened before will happen once more. Young witch, do you know the immensity of the world and the forces that plague it?' The butterfly's voice chimed within Priscilla's mind with a pleasant softness.

  "I know the demons are cruel and spreading, but why am I responsible for the future? I just wanted to live, get revenge on my father if I had a chance, and see the world. How did the fate of the continent fall into my hands?"

  'Did she not choose you to wield her powers, young one?' The butterfly's wings flapped, and the obscurity below vanished.

  The fog obscuring the battle parted, revealing Zae-Rin below, confronted by the demons and battling them valiantly. Wounds peppered her body, but her determined gaze stood firm as the elements clashed with the demons' monstrous figures.

  'She fought to save the people even when they all turned their backs on her. And now she's given you the powers to continue the battle, yet you fight against it?'

  "I—" Priscilla hesitated as she saw the wounds pepper Zae-Rin's body down below. "I don't want to betray Rin's faith."

  "I wish some things were explained early on. I never signed up to be a hero, not for those who watched me burn. But, if it's for Rin, I don't mind facing all the evils that come. There isn't much chance the empire would let me live peacefully no matter how I avoid the demons."

  'That is the heart you must retain.' The butterfly excitedly flapped as it circled around Priscilla's head. 'Mother made a good choice, choosing you.'

  "Mother?" Priscilla questioned.

  'The Mother of all Witches. Chosen by the Mother Goddess to stand against the encroaching evils. Yet, her mission was cut short, her fate sealed by betrayal.' The butterfly said. 'It was Mother who caused the era of witches to spread across the continent. From her, I was born, as were many of my sisters.'

  "How did Rin end up in purgatory then? How bad was the betrayal to make her lose everything?"

  'That...' The butterfly settled on Priscilla's shoulder once more. 'It was one of the humans. After all her battles. Alone and with the witches who joined her later on. One human broke the wariness humanity kept showing toward her, but ultimately, he had ulterior motives, and because of it, the deadlock between the two continents finally broke.'

  'It is a long story, but unfortunately, we do not have that much time. Your control of your powers is terrible and driven by emotions. Was it Mother that taught you to be so reckless with it?'

  "Reckless? I'm not reckless with my powers!" Priscilla huffed. "It was Rin who taught me everything. She always said to follow my heart!"

  The butterfly flapped and circled Priscilla's head with vivid frustration. 'Heart! Is your heart made of anger and desperation?'

  'Heart is the foundation of life. It is a belief and sincerity that can achieve and manifest anything. It isn't a tantrum you can simply throw as you see fit.'

  "But what difference does it make?"

  'All of it. The elements only rage alongside your emotions. There is no flow and no vitality to it. You have to muster all of the strength in your being to use the upper tiers of power. If you continue on this path. The demons will bring ruin to you.'

  'Have you not noticed the challenges? Where you're left drained and empty after a difficult battle. How many demon swarms can you handle before you're lying in bed for weeks on end?'

  Priscilla paused before shaking her head. "What do you suggest then? Do you think there's time to waste when the demons you want me to go up against are proliferating across the empire? I'm doing the best that I can."

  'Yes, child. You are.' The butterfly settled down once more atop Priscilla's head. 'If you wish to grow from these setbacks, you must be as calm as still waters.'

  'Your confidence needs to be a mountain supporting the clouds above. Firm and rooted deeply within you. Follow your heart, child. Be true to yourself. But most importantly, you must not let your emotions cloud your judgment.'

  'Also...protect the young of my people. Parthia will rise again. For Mother and for the former glory.'

  With its wishes transferred to Priscilla, the butterfly fluttered above and circled in a tempestuous flurry, spinning rapidly around Priscilla before diving down and melding with her. The creature's body transformed into a soft light that penetrated Priscilla's soul and body, becoming one with her heart.

  Priscilla gasped for air and clenched at her heart, the hidden markings across her body illuminated with an overwhelming surge of power.

  The markings spread and swirled with the elements. Pulsating with an unprecedented force, that caused Priscilla to howl with pain atop the cloud she was on. From her back, markings stretched from her shoulders down her spine, splitting at the seam as wings made of energy burst forth.

  All the battles below vanished in a flash, and the environment burst into a stream of white light. Back within the chamber, the cocoon that wrapped around Priscilla and the source burst open in a violent display of the elements, and Priscilla kneeled on the cold ground, drenched in sweat. Beneath her gown, the markings dimmed as no visible sign of the previous events remained. But across Priscilla's back, the markings formed a barely visible pattern of wings, engraved into her flesh and thrumming with vitality.

  Priscilla clenched her hands, grasping at the sandy tiles beneath her. Her head throbbed with pain as she tried to regain her composure. The beating of her heart showed that life still coursed through her, but with it, there was also something more, something roaring to erupt.