The sound of silence was more terrifying than the attacks. How strange to feel this way. Silence was normally peaceful. It was a lovely sound to nod off to or focus on the random thoughts that float around. However, this silence was patiently waiting for a breath of life, an optimistic gleam, that was only a hopeless nightmare away.

The silence in Howl's castle was terrifying.

There was a cloud of smoke in the main area, hazing the view of the crippling home. It was difficult to picture the castle as it was before - Furniture, sturdy walls, a bright and happy family finding refuge inside. Now, the entire foundation was completely devastated. It was the first war all over again, only this time there was no restitution.

Calcifer couldn't wrap his mind around how this was possible. He had reconnected himself and had access to every inch of the castle. The fire demon knew every weakness and every advantage. Howl placed dozens upon dozens of protection spells over the exterior to ensure their safety. Spells to keep intruders out, spells to enhance other spells - Howl was careful.

Calcifer gasped. He, on the other hand, was not. "The powder."

A rustling came from underneath a large pile of debris. Kenta's head jostled about, but that was the extent of his movement. His hand peeked from under scraps of metal and wood, though his fingers could hardly move.

He exhaled a dusty breath. "What was that?"

Calcifer smacked himself, fire against fire. "I'm so stupid. I cannot believe I let her do that."

"What are you mumbling about?"

Calcifer sighed. "Noe, that sneaky witch. She sent me back to the castle with a disabling powder and deactivated my transportation spell. Once I came back, the powder must have deactivated everything Howl protected the castle with."

Calcifer hadn't given her much credit before. When Howl spoke to him of his classmates during his apprenticeship, he assumed Noe was just a showoff or a know-it-all. He didn't think she was actually creative or intelligent. Then again, she did train under Suliman - who knew the kind of tricks she learned.

Kenta coughed as his lungs barely held on. Calcifer couldn't imagine the weight upon him. While he saved Markl from the debris, he did not prepare for his next blow. The poor boy, lying on the ground next to the fireplace with labored breathing, still hadn't awakened yet.

"Any way you could burn him?" Kenta asked, his voice pleading. Calcifer noticed a sense of desperation in his voice. Markl was his only hope of releasing him from this prison. "Maybe he'll wake if you give him a spark."

Calcifer nodded. He turned to the boy, staring as his chest rose softly and lowered with ease. There was a trickle of blood straggling down his forehead from under his greasy hair. His clothes were torn and dusty, since he had been unconscious for nearly half a day.

The attack happened sometime last night and it was already midday, with the sun already at its highest peak. Calcifer had tried healing him, similar to how he healed Gwenda's wounds, but nothing forced the boy awake. Kenta's predicament prohibited him from moving even the slightest muscle. A quick spark against Markl's cheek might be enough to shock him back into consciousness.

Calcifer sucked in a deep breath and flicked a vibrant piece of ash toward him, the molten light landing softly on his cheek. Markl sniffed and scrunched his face, like he was having a bad dream. It took a few seconds before his brain signaled an urgent alarm that there was a burning sensation on his cheek, and he awoke suddenly in a highly defensive mode.

"Ah!" He shouted and immediately started slapping his face, trying to relieve himself of the fiery pain. He pushed himself away from the fireplace and expected to hit his back against the couch. However, after sliding on the ground, he noticed the torn wooden planks piercing up toward the open ceiling and the couch turned upside down, no longer with its soft cushions.

He bobbed his head around, noticing a lot of things that weren't as they used to be. No longer was the living room warm and inviting, but rather frightening to his young mind. This was not the home he had grown attached to. This was no longer a place for a family.

"Markl." The boy whipped his head up to the fire blazing over the cracked concrete. "How are you feeling?"

Markl blinked a few times. "Calcifer. I-" He palmed his forehead with both hands, the weight of a heavy boulder pounding inside. "Oh, my head hurts like crazy."

"You had a bad fall." Markl looked out beyond his fingers to see who spoke, and he cringed when he saw Kenta trapped under a mountain of what formerly was their second floor. Kenta continued, "A really bad one. Is there any way you can heal your injuries?"

Markl removed his hands, though his brain felt a stinging pain on the left side. "How could I heal myself?"

"You don't remember the castle being under attack?"

Markl nodded. "I remember that. But after you pushed me, I can't remember anything else."

Calcifer sighed. "You blacked out. Kenta pushed you out of the way so you wouldn't be trapped under... well, that." Kenta lowered his head, the only part of his body he had full control over. Markl stared with a frightening gaze and the fate he averted.

Calcifer pleaded with him. "You need to cast a spell to free him."

"A spell?" Markl turned to his hands. Faint memories of a magical cloak and teleportation and large books of lessons entered his mind, but they were foggy, like a distant dream. They seemed important, though for whatever reason of which he was unsure.

The mage's spells - for some reason those were the most prevalent in his mind. He could feel a particular draw to them, a peculiar passion for this strange sorcery. Yet these spells and magical properties still seemed foreign to him.

Kenta looked at the boy with desperation. He saw Markl's blank visage at the mention of magic, and he knew that the abrupt and painful clash he had with the fireplace had wiped away his knowledge. The only one within miles of this lifeless castle, the only one with the ability to free him - Kenta's hope was merely a boy with faded memories.

Calcifer dropped his jaw. "You forgot how to use magic?"

Markl raised his eyebrows. "Did I ever know how?"

Calcifer turned to Kenta, watching him grunt from the heavy weight atop of him. Markl rushed to him and tried lifting the bulky materials, though he barely made a dent. He was just a small, feeble child - only magic could save him.

Kenta exhaled with exhaustion. "Without his memories of magic, Markl can't help me. Even if I repeat a spell to him, there's no guarantee that he has the technique to use it."

"Can't you free yourself?" Markl asked, his voice shaky. "I-If you know the right spell to use, why can't you say it?"

Kenta rested his head back against the wood planks. "If it were that easy, kid, I would. But

my hands are trapped, so I can't enact the proper motions these spells require. My mind can only do so much."

The debris shifted and poured more on both sides of Kenta's limp body. Markl jumped out of the way before possibly getting trapped himself. If he was Kenta's only hope, he needed to stay unharmed.

Kenta clenched his teeth as the weight increased over him, his breath panting once the commotion had ended. He looked at Markl with tearfully desperate eyes. "Markl, this will eventually crush me to death. You have to try to remember magic, or I won't make it." 

It was so sudden. One minute they were falling and the next, they landed softly far away from the castle. Far away from the attackers. Far away from everyone.

"Howl!" Sophie cried out for him, though the rumbling in her stomach begged for her attention. A pinch - no, more like a cramping around her entire body. Pinching was an understatement. This was much more agonizing.

"I'm here." Sophie reached for a soft hand, half expecting the hand to belong to Howl. Rather than her beloved, Martha helped carry her to a nearby bed and laid her flat. She looked calm; how could she not show a shred of anxiety after what they just saw, after what they had just been through?

Sophie wished she could be as calm as her sister, but with these cricks in her stomach, she could hardly contain her harrowing screams.

"Where's Howl?" Sophie squeezed Martha's hand until the young witch yelped and bit her tongue. She pierced her skin until trickles of blood fell around her teeth. She had never aided a woman with pregnancy contractions, so she could only imagine her sister's distress.

"I need Howl!" Sophie screamed once more. Martha met her gaze - there was the anxiety Sophie was looking for.

"He can't be here right now." Martha said. She looked at Sophie's agitated stomach. "But you might be having the baby."

Sophie widened her eyes. "What? N-No. I-I can't have the baby without Howl. I just can't. I'm too early and I need him by my side."

Martha placed her hand over Sophie's stomach. There were definite signs of disarray inside the womb, though the baby could have simply been startled by the unexpected attack. Martha touched one hand over Sophie and with the other, she placed two fingers against her temple. Her mind opened a current vision of the womb and she saw the baby with her own eyes.

Martha paused, taking in this marvelous and spectacular moment for everything that it was - Sophie's child. So much beauty in one being, Martha couldn't help but cry. This child was perfect already, without having been born yet.

A light shone around the premature baby, a light only signified by power. This was how all magical creatures looked in the womb, and the way this light shone had proven Martha's premonition - this child was going to be very powerful.

Martha ended the vision with a smile. "You're not going into labor."

"What?" Beads of sweat fell down Sophie's forehead and then her cheeks. She definitely felt like she was going into labor.

"The baby is just disturbed." Martha waved her hands over Sophie's stomach, back and forth while she whispered a spell. Sophie's striking pain faded away until she no longer felt the pressing need to relieve her body of the baby. As much as she wanted to see her child, she wasn't ready yet.

Martha pulled a chair and sat down properly. She ran her fingers through Sophie's tangled, sweaty hair. Her breathing was still upset, but soon she would calm down. Soon, things would be normal again.

Sophie turned to her, shocked when a little dog jumped onto Martha's lap. Heen wagged his tail and inched closer to Sophie, though kept himself balanced atop Martha's legs. Sophie reached her hand to pet his tattered fur, much to his liking. Sophie looked around the room. No one else came.

"Where are we?" She asked, her voice sickly and hoarse. They were in a small, quaint bedroom. Magical objects were scattered in high and low places, similar to Howl's room before their move to Ovela. Sophie sneezed from the dust that scattered the room and wondered if she had ever been here before.

Martha bowed her head. "I took us to Mrs. Fairfax's home. This is where I trained for three years to become a witch."

"Why are we here?"

Martha's lips trembled and she spoke faster than her mind was thinking. "I couldn't let them take you. I know they would have. And Howl wasn't-"

"Did you break a vision?" Sophie interrupted. Martha sniffled and looked at her. "Did you know that would happen and change it?"

"No." Martha said. Her tears clouded her eyes, and she couldn't control them from pouring out. "Of course not. I'm bound by this ability never to alter the events I see. This is the problem with premonition. If I see something, I can't tell anyone about it, but if I don't, people look at me as if I did something wrong. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

Martha cried into her hands, the tears filling up and falling onto Heen's head. He turned his attention from Sophie to her, nuzzling under Martha's chest in comfort. There was so much Sophie wished she understood about her sister's amazing powers. Such an ability was more confidential than Howl's or Kenta's or Markl's, and for good reason. If everyone could see the future, the world would turn into havoc and chaos would become the new order.

Sophie pushed herself to a sitting position. With the pain subsided, she became more relaxed, though somewhat stunned from experiencing such an ordeal. She rested a hand on Martha's shoulder. "It's okay. No one is blaming you."

"But you should." Martha removed her hands, displaying her reddened eyes and running nose. "I never should have gone to Howl's castle in the first place."

"Martha, if you hadn't gone to the castle, I would still be wondering where my baby sister was." Sophie swallowed hard. She hated to admit it, but she hadn't really thought of her sister in years. Even with the war, she assumed Martha was safe at school.

How wrong she was to believe that.

"Of course, things have been difficult lately," Sophie continued, "but you can't keep blaming yourself when bad things happen. Bad things will always happen."

Martha nodded, though she didn't seem very convinced. Heen licked up until he reached her chin, and only then was she able to laugh. Martha rubbed her fingers against Heen's back and he wheezed from the enjoyment. Her smile was a saving grace, and for a brief moment she didn't see herself to be a burden.

Until her next vision.

Sophie had gotten used to this process over the weeks. Martha blanked for a few seconds and then jolted back to reality. Sometimes she said it wasn't anything serious, but when they were dire, her face was an open book.

When Martha's visage dropped and her eyes stared in the distance, that was usually a sign.

Sophie leaned closer to her, unable to restrain her curiosity. "What did you see this time?"

Martha blinked a couple times and the words left before she could hold her tongue. "Howl's going to the Kingsbury Palace."

"You've got to be joking." Sophie breathed a laugh, assuming it was a funny joke, although Martha didn't appear as amused. Sophie sucked in a short breath. "Why would he go there? Of all places."

Martha shook her head. "I wish my visions told me why the things I see are meant to happen, but it just doesn't work that way. I shouldn't have even told you that much."

Sophie darted her eyes back and forth. What on earth was going through Howl's mind? Maybe he thought she would be there. Maybe he was held captive and forced to go, or he wanted to get revenge on Suliman for all the pain she caused. That one seemed more likely. Whatever it was, the only thought racing through Sophie's brain was how soon they would be together again.

Heen jumped from Martha's lap to Sophie. He curled next to her on the bed, his tail wagging slower and slower as he nuzzled into a calming slumber. Martha reached for her hand and Sophie held on tightly. For now, she had part of her family.

And that was better than being alone. 

Anywhere was better than here. Well, maybe not the war-torn castle they had recently departed from, but he hadn't expected to appear at the edge of the capital - Kingsbury.

Howl seethed through his teeth. If he hadn't been thinking about ripping Suliman's throat, maybe they could have gone to a happier place. He preferred somewhere like the depths of the Wastes or his old private study or even Ovela.

No, Ovela wasn't any happier a place than where he stood. By now, the majority of the country had been demolished by Roland's armies and bloodthirsty creatures. Howl only wished to go to Ovela if Sophie was there with him and Suliman's army was far from it.

But she was gone. Martha acted selfishly and took matters into her own hands. Watching her fall through that portal brought back the same fears when he saw her in a wedding dress standing at Justin's side. He worried that this time would be the last he saw her again.

"No!" Howl jumped into the air and smashed the ground, the street rumbling a few stones out in each direction. His muscles tightened and shook uncontrollably. Without Sophie, he didn't know how to control his emotions. He was a monster freed from his chains, a true menace on the loose.

"Would you quit acting like a baby?" Howl peered his head up to the old lady grimacing down at him. She crossed her arms. "You'll never get back to Sophie with that attitude."

Howl inhaled before standing up, his patience highly tested. "You do not realize the things that are going through my mind right now."

The Witch crossed her arms. She knew him better than he thought. "You're afraid you'll never see Sophie again. It's not the first time I've seen you like this. Any time she leaves, you have the same pouty face and act as if the world has just ended."

Howl lowered his gaze. "Without her, my world has ended."

The Witch rolled her eyes. "What a drama queen." Howl was two steps from zipping her mouth shut before she started walking down the stone street. He was insulted by the way she casually ignored him, like he wasn't a dangerous force to be reckoned with.

"Right, because losing my home, my friends, and the love of my life who is also carrying my child all in a matter of minutes isn't cause for being dramatic." Howl called out to her. She stopped for a moment, but then continued walking. "Where are you going?"

"What's it look like?" The Witch turned around with an eerie smile, the kind of smile that brought him back to her wicked years. "I'm actually doing something worth my time. I could sit here and watch you mope for about the hundredth time or I could do something about that wretched Suliman."

Howl crossed his arms. "You want revenge on Suliman?" The Witch shrugged her shoulders and turned back toward the Palace. She was mad; going after Suliman wouldn't change the fact that his castle was destroyed and they were all separated. He hadn't seen Kenta or Markl leave, and he worried that Calcifer was still bound to the fireplace unless he transported himself elsewhere.

Either way, their family was completely broken.

"Are you still sulking?" The Witch shouted. Howl hoped no one had heard her. It was late at night, but he didn't want anyone alerting the Kingsbury guards. He ran over to shush her, although she merely seized his arm and dragged him forward.

"What are you doing?" Howl easily broke from her fragile grip. "Approaching Suliman won't help - it'll only make things worse."

"Worse for whom?" The Witch said, her voice gaining confidence with every word she spoke. "This is your chance to get back at her for all the damage she's put you through. Your years of training under her only to find out she was using you for war; using Sophie to strip you of your magic - though you somehow evaded that; forcing her into marrying that psychotic Justin; and then destroying your castle. The list goes on and on of all the terrible things she's done, and not just to you. You're not the only one who lost pieces of yourself because of her."

Howl creased his eyebrows. He hadn't seen her this fired up about anything in a long time. He wondered why she still held a grudge.

Then again, he still hadn't accepted Suliman's betrayal to him, nor to the rest of their class. Maybe it wasn't as far-fetched of an idea as he thought.

The Witch turned on her heels and walked back toward the Palace. "Well then, oh great and powerful Wizard Howl Pendragon. What's it going to be?" 

It was one thing to be a prisoner under three obnoxious magicians. There, she had mild opportunities to banter and play tricks on them, despite their outmatched strength against her inability to create magic. It was something else entirely to be directly jailed by the Royal Sorceress herself. Here, she had nothing.

"Hey, be gentle with me! I'm not your toy!" Gwenda thrashed in the arms of a royal guard who held her by her arms. However, even his tight grip couldn't keep her still. Gwenda wasn't giving up without pushing her luck just a little further.

The guard was quiet, save for a few sighs and grunts. In the two minutes after Madame Suliman sentenced this girl to life in prison - her mind still dabbling over the death sentence - she had caused so much ruckus. He wished Madame Suliman had turned to the guard next to him to bring her to the underground prison.

Gwenda tried cementing her feet on the ground, but the guard kept her moving. He lifted her up like a child, fitting to her tantrum. Most prisoners were not like her. They had all accepted their fate under the Royal Family. This one was stubborn - a little too stubborn.

Gwenda glared at him. "I hope you realize I'm not going in there easily."

The guard rolled his eyes. "Trust me, I think I got that much." He held both of her hands together with one of his - the diameter of his reach highly impressive - unlocked a rusty cell door with the other, and tossed her in next to another girl. Gwenda landed against the hard, concrete wall, and she immediately pushed her hand against it to break her fall. She seethed as he closed the door and locked it behind him.

She rushed forward and rattled the bars, the metal clattering a deafening cry in their ears. "You're an idiot for listening to that woman! She's a monster and you're no better!" Gwenda rambled as the guard strolled away, pretending she didn't exist. She watched him depart through the spaces of her shambled hair, her eyes twitching with internal bitterness.

When her arms tired, she stopped shaking. One prison to another. This was not how she hoped things would play out. Her mind ran wild wondering what Suliman could be doing to her friends right now. She didn't want to be responsible for their pain, or even death. She was supposed to help them - now she was imprisoned with no means of escaping.

Again.

How she hoped they would tear Suliman down from her pedestal and rip her to shreds.

"Gwenda?" She froze at the soft voice behind her. The girl in her cell knew her name; she recognized her. And that voice was a symphony ringing in her ears, a voice that had been silenced for far too long.

As Gwenda glanced behind her shoulder, the girl's fiery red eyes were the only beautiful sight in the acheronian prison.