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Firmly holding onto the sharp spike, his reluctant, almost meaning, adverse gaze, toys and dances with the object he keeps trying to contain under the ripped skin of his thumb and index finger, as the cold wet red liquid covers the hems of his sleeves. It is pointless – craving for pain isn't something an immortal would often ask for, let alone find himself resort to a mere futile, lifeless and static object to satisfy his abnormal frustration – but while he managed to trick his own thoughts, openly replacing the thunder inside his head with confident spirits, the light grey color his eyes held, quickly pumped with oxygen, soon were shinning reminiscing a diamond when kissed by the sun, so, after a second or two, he had twisted it, the spike bended, then was disposed of, tossed to the ground.

It did not matter how much blood he had lost, his heart was already frozen in the first place, his body's a mere machine which is constantly working and does not reinitiate. As far as Leon, he remembered he once used to joyfully dream about not having to die, because it meant he would get rid of something that shorts and scares a dignified life, in his eyes, that meant winning a big treasure, but when his initial transformation ritual was over, the starting off a permanent change on one's body and soul, is something he now wishes he never had the guts to fight for in the first place.

He succeeded, yes. He had become a Witcher. None of his other brothers survived, whereas Leon triumphed in contrast to them and to others. He is feared among the best male witches in Oxyn and the Four Empires, even his popularity reaches thousands of miles of unknown land, his direct competition is virtually inexistent and well, he never lost any combat, not one, although being powerful does not make up for every void one can feel, this, he certainly knows it very well. That thing – imprinted on his back, like a parasite kludged to its prey – still gives him nightmares up to this day, 101 years later, and if one could make it a thousand, he would only feel the loneliness and tiredness growing larger.

The suffering he had to put up with was intolerable as the mark tested his organism to its limits, almost making him fall to his knees, while he grunted in pain, the sweat, and the long-lasting screams. Now that he thinks about it, his last breath as a human being was wasted in agony and convulsion, nothing properly positive came from the handprint that ghostly wicked witch had left on him more than a century ago.

Perhaps it would be a different scenario if he thought about it the other way around, right? Once he completed the ritual, he no longer felt the horrifying pain and, certainly, he became stronger. Nevertheless, the demons, they were there. Those bloodsuckers can never leave him completely, can they?

His hand, still covered with red liquid, grabbed the cup, and brought it close to his lips. At least he can drink liquor, that is, the richest pleasure for both humans and creatures. The substance enters this throat quicker than expected, so he uses his other hand to manipulate the wind element, boringly moving the wooden, black pieces of the chess, so he may find some temporary amusement.

Every two minutes, his eyes trail to the glass of the cup, as he watches his own distorted image. Remaining young and desirable is another thing he does not mind, many are the advantages of carrying on with a slim figure, slender posture, a few tight predominant muscles, and a back that does not curve. His black, strong hair, though, kept changing occasionally, but for now he chooses to let it be, the front locks on both sides of his face reach his ears, whereas the rest of his hair has enough length to touch his spine and is tied by a ribbon.

His attention was lost when the floor beneath his feet trembled. Something is up, he thought. So almost automatically he put down the glass and made his way to the window. Two men dressed in violet colors prepared to enter the location, and were in a hurry, but Leon's brows irked to the image of a golden button folded on the right side of their clothes – the Council's here. Could it really be that the rumors were true?

A nervous cough left his mouth, as his fingers touched his upper lip, deep clouded was the mind of a desperate player who keeps planning strategies to apply on a rigged game – if this may be true, then what is left of me to do?  To reenter the groundbreaking vicious cycle of perpetuating ache and affliction, that would unavoidably destroy him, what else would he feel, if not a ragging anxiety and turbulent judgment, at the meeting he so eagerly awaited.

Coaxing the two buttons of his black jacket, right after angelically balancing his hardened yet magnificent face, those mesmerizing dilatated pupils took notice of the presence of the two Council members.

"All-keylav" The two men gestured with care, their fingers pointed horizontally just beneath the chins, eyes closed. The bright pearls of their red round rings transplanted colorful reflections and their outstanding cone-like purple hats matched their vibrant yet simplistic outfit.

"All-keylav" Leon greeted, bowing his head a little, although hesitating, and exhaled after verifying with his narrowed canine like orbs if the door behind them was shut,

"I presume you have got news for me", he calmly spoke, not baring a question.

"Yes," The younger one responded, "It's about the other subject- the girl we have been keeping a close eye on", Cornellius, the tallest and predominantly smart of the two added.

Leon closed his eyelids, the nails marking his skin, as he lowered his voice "Is it true? Is this girl marked?" he attempted to sound the tiniest bit preoccupied, but his tenderness expressions and penetrating looks had already demystified his true intentions on which he had obediently and perhaps for far too long, worked on to show no uncertainty.

"It is confirmed." Was said. Leon's black hair floated in the air as he waved with his head back and forth, displeased, letting out a reluctant sigh. He turned his back purposely, before adding,

"What else did you find out?"

"The girl's eleven years old and lives near the mountains. Her parents are both deserters, she should have died as soon her birth took place if it was not for the care of an elderly witch who watches over her. This lady is powerful too since it took us both forever to even manipulate the door handles." Cornellius narrowed with his wise blue eyes, as his voice became husky, whereas juvenile and transparent Luno agreed by his side, maintaining a steady composure.

Although both were respected members of the Council, the older a member is the more responsibility as well as prey looks he gets, that's why Leon had first contacted his longtime ally Cornellius to fulfill such an important task. He had enough experience to part on a side secret mission, was truthful to his ideas, obedient to compel orders and above all his other qualities, knew that sometimes there were certain matters on which the Council should not be able to interfere to decide the village's future.

Oxyn and the other Three Empires were administrated by a unified organism composed of a series of people from various high patterns of all Empires, mortals, and immortals, that's how balance was maintained, although generally the immortals had their own mechanism inside each empire. Leon Aegon was of a higher rank in terms of immortality features, but his position as the leader of Oxyn's Defenses Squad prevented him from entering the Council, for he already held tremendous responsibility. Because the Council unleashed its personnel to solve some internal affairs, everything to do with occasional treats, corruption and educational matters was on their authority.

Nevertheless, Leon knew better, such fragile and incomplete information shouldn't reach the Council, let alone the Courts. He had to be the one to dig it further, mainly because he was emotionally enveloped in such new founded circumstances.

Locking eyes with the two male witches, he watched them with uncertainty. Cornellius was the eyes and ears of Luno and therefore his better match, especially because of Luno's intelligence and remarkable execution. Only the duo would be fitting for the mission Leon planned.

"Luno used his Obscurus to spot any protection spell, that's when his eyes noticed the only thing shinning was the back hem of the child's polo. I, myself felt the floor vibrate in response to our attempt at infiltrating."

When a human passed on the ritual in which he transmuted into a creature of the night, being able to control his predominant nature, it did not mean he couldn't master other natures. Luno is a witcher whose triumphing element is wind, altought he can manipulate water too. Through the years, however, he had developed an interesting trait, familiar to his blood origins,  capable of maximizing his sensitive mechanisms. Apart from being quick to detect or respond to slight changes, signals, or influences, he had the r-xay vision to inspect inside buildings, as his hands touched the soils, creating a silenced yet deep frequency. A power worth envying for.

Leon's first thoughts roomed over the fact the floor had vibrated. So the mark responded instinctively to the Obscurus, while being forced to activate itself in confrontation to another unknown presence. Leon's right hand touched his chin as he thought to himself. That meant the mark had already initiate its process to develop in the body of a eleven-year-old- which is just, worryingly impressive.

"Luno, did you imprint as discussed?"

"Yes."

"Show me. I need to see it with my own eyes." The black raven haired man asked, the ribbon on his hair adjusting to the constant movement of his back. Luno stretched further with his feet, curved the pale hand of his close to Leon's head and finally two fingers landed in the middle of the predominant witcher's forehead. Their eyes were connected, followed by the absence of blinking, Luno was transmitting what he had seen inside the house where the eleven year old lived.

Although they were told not to scare the girl or even make her take notice of their mischievous presence, as soon as Luno and Cornellius reached out for the door behind which the girl rested on her chambers, Luno's marvelous yet rebellious ability awakened the intense, vigorous core planted on the children's backside, the markings shinning as bright yellow unfolded in his field of vision. The mark was long, it trailed the spine of the young body, but had interesting aspects to it, namely, it was not presented as a straight line, rather had waves which curved to both sides, added by two separated strikes on both tails.

It took a mere second before the mark responded to Luno's enchantment, almost instinctively, as if it held a charming protective barrier while the owner's body rested. The girl was sleeping, whereas the glowing encryption on her spine proved to have a life of its own, its response affecting Luno's sight, almost blinding him as he moaned a loud scream.

Cornellius was sitting on the ground beside the door, his attention went to his comrade, before he noticed the door locking itself from the inside.

"How-" He breathed, shock on his eyes while his skin shivered. Just as he was about to call for Luno, his retortion came as a confused whisper, his shaky hands reaching the doorhandle in pure astonishment,

"Wind Release." Only then he was able to touch Luno's shoulder, rambling a few words which had an effect on stopping his pain. Mind control was Cornellius triumph.

Luno retrieved his two fingers from Leon's head as his memory came to an end, silence followed, but Leon's thoughts troubled him to an extend capable of making his back shiver. To have such a man as himself at a conflicting loss of words couldn't signify positive outcomes.

"How serious is this finding?" Cornellius questioned, reading Leon's troubled features. He too was preoccupied, something unfamiliar like that shouldn't become the object of a well-kept secret, but its revelation could bring disastrous consequences to all kingdoms.

Leon swayed while staying still and tall, his grey eyes narrowing at the floor beneath his feet, while he opened his parched lips matching his dry taunting voice.

"Too serious, I'm afraid."

The girl had tremendous power, it switched on even without her being conscious. For what he had seen, the mark allowed her to control wind, and it manipulated whatever unknown intrusions one tempted at reaching proximity. It was a shield, but a weapon at the same time, something he was too familiar with. 

"The pattern is different, a lot curvier and wider. But it was Mystral's undoing, hence the harsh counterattack."

He calmly flipped his head to the side, as his thoughts raced in speed. The dark witch's ghost that had kissed his flesh while he was a boy, had committed a new atrocity when locating another potential victim, a hundred years later, now of the opposite sex. Mystral had been a fair and well-respected witch in her prime years, a servant to the values and hierarchy displays of command around the empires. The story of her downfall on her sinful path started as every other story of hatred begins, when the seeds of love are shattered, and the plants of hope turn to dust.

Mystral fell in love with a mundane who had not reached his immortal state and never would, for it was impossible for him to complete the sealing ritual, a burning disease crawled in his veins for eternity which could affect the immune system of any child of his, but a baby had been born. Although apparently healthy, the Council took notice of the rumor and searched for the creature in attempts to kill it - a mere drop of poisoned blood could ruin a whole fine lineage, and so it happened. From then on, as her death took place in absolute pain, the witch renounced to immortality and vowed distraughtly to haunt the lives of the unborn.

The kiss of the ghost held the curse of a dark promise – not the awakening of an inflammatory deadly disease, but the arouse of a heart drawn to shadows, madness, insanity.

The two Council members wouldn't have had the courage to ask bluntly trivial questions to Leon's dominant and empathic attire, nonetheless the loyalty between the three, but they too were curious, after all Leon's Aegon was the only witcher to have succeeded in controlling the ferocious, dangerous impulses the mark had formed.

However, until this very day, a part of his heart still craved for torment, agony, disorder, for him to be merciless with his enemies, destroying peace, perpetuating havoc. He hadn't mastered completely his darker thoughts, reason why he preferred to be left alone while working in daylight, to being a lone wolf in a king-sized bed where only he could sleep on.

Losing a mortal corpse was a testimony of acceptance towards a lesser bright life, a soul ripping apart for the first time, disposed off what would make a fully beating human heart. Time was the deeper cut that followed, ripping it further. Although perhaps that is just the way he views and evaluates his tough path into becoming the trustworthy, sturdy independent witcher he is today. To him he lacks a variety of traits any solid warrior would have.

That is, however, besides the point. Leon had a decision to make which could trouble his existence for decades, a part of him was lost on what to do or where to follow, who to guide, another part had already decided. He will be the one and only capable of understanding such pain and suffering once the girl becomes aware of her powers. So, right in the center of his gloomy chest, he felt nothing less than sympathy, if anything else was there to feel.

"Let it be... my responsibility." He said strongly with a fine rough voice, his lips firm and pressed, eyes that shed a luminous, heartfelt warm color for a very brief second. Immediately he reacted by keeping his distance, reaching for a sly paper.

"She is not a threat for the time being, so she must not be treated as such. She'll grow to be any like other citizen. The Academy will welcome her when she hits thirteen, where she will learn about our past wars, our history, nature and beliefs. Naturally, we must keep an eye out for any disturbances on the course of her power growth. Cornellius, I believe you can assist me on this."

Leon pointed, the mark would take years to develop completely, since both of their marks were similar, then she wouldn't be able to fully activate its force when intentionally provoked like he also didn't when he was human. But that did not mean she could do no harm outside her planned events. He had seen how the mark reacted, for her safety, it had to be contained as long as possible, even if that means Cornellius has to secretly perform a mental charm. The man reached for his hand and touched the golden pin hugged to his coat, his gaze stone and obedient while nodding.

"Then she'll be joining the Annual Tournament. I supervise it, as you know, so I will be mirroring her every move. When the time comes, as the ritual approaches, she will need training and assistance, so we will provide it. Eventually, the truth will come out, and it'll be on her hands the decision of her will and resolve."

A curse should not be pressed for time, nor forgotten. Cannot be pushed to its limits, neither postponed. Time needs to fulfill its own purpose, either good or bad.

He'd be waiting, calmly, for her arrival at the Tournament, to watch and portray the development of the markings on her back, as well as her flourishing into the minds of a woman. He'd be staring, in hopes to find peculiarities in her adventure, while trailing her obstacles and counting her victories, so he could extinguish his own terror marginalized by his defeats during the life he himself put on a trial.

For he could later believe, that having seen her past, while knowing her present, and nourishing her future, his quest for an honorable life wouldn't be so farfetched. If the girl overcomes all the hatred that awaits her, then he'd know he's not alone in this cruel world anymore. He'd have something to believe in.

Leon's lips moved harmlessly and in motion as he popped a clean question. He wanted to know more, suddenly he was drawn to the complex atmosphere which envelop him.

"Novah. The girl's name is Novah."

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