Daryl walked into Rod's quarters to find him leaning against his desk, holding a rectangular sheet of paper with a pondering look in his eye. The swordsman greeted him with a nod. "Welcome back, sir. How was your vacation?"

Rod's head snapped towards Daryl, as if he was broken out of a trance. "Oh, Daryl," he started, "the vacation was nice, relaxing." A smirk formed at the corner of his mouth. "My little girl's all grown up, isn't she?"

"Indeed, sir," Daryl agreed.

"Speaking of growth..." Rod added, gesturing towards Daryl's beard with a playful smile. "Seems time is finally catching up to you, too, huh?"

Daryl glanced at the greyness of his facial hair. "It would appear so."

"So then," Rod continued, "what brought ya in here? I'm assuming it wasn't just to welcome me back."

Daryl thought about Rod's notion of time, and it reminded him of his growing apprentice. "Mallory's training is coming to an end," Daryl informed. "She'll be ready for initiation in a few weeks' time."

"Excellent," Rod remarked with a nod, "you've done a fine job with her, then..." His brow flinched, a distant look in his eye as he returned his gaze to a random spot on the wall.

The swordsman tilted his head upward in a quizzical manner. It's like he's trying to process something... "Something's on your mind," he acknowledged. "I was expecting to find you fast asleep in here, sir."

Rod chuckled. "Consider us both shocked about that. But I can't fall asleep now..." He waved the letter once in front of his face. "Not after reading this."

Daryl knit his eyebrows. "What is it?"

"It's a letter from the king," Rod answered, setting it on a short stack of more letters on the desk behind him.

"Is it?" Daryl asked, more intrigued. "What does it say?"

"It's a reply from a letter I sent him a couple years ago," Rod explained. "Now don't think I was being reckless when I tell you this, but I wrote him saying that we were allying ourselves with the Sorcerers' Guild."

Daryl's head jerked back with wide eyes. Knowing that sorcery was still taboo, it did seem impulsive of Rod, but he was willing to hear him out.

"I broke it to him nicely," Rod elaborated, putting his hands up in response to Daryl's reaction. "And, believe it or not, he's relatively..." He tilted his head back and forth, like he was trying to find the right word. "...okay with it."

Daryl nodded slowly. "So...you're still on good terms with him, yes?"

"I am," Rod confirmed. He raised a finger and continued, "But here's what's interesting, and a little concerning..."

Daryl narrowed his eyes. "Go on."

Rod tapped his finger to his chin, his eyes wandering off towards the wall as he sunk back into thought. "In the letter, he mentioned something about his son..."

"Isaiah II," Daryl recalled. "What about him?"

"Actually, no, not him," Rod denied.

Daryl blinked a little, under the impression for years that the king only had one son. "What do you mean?"

Rod gave Daryl a stern look. "Daryl, when I tell you this, I trust that you'll keep this information between us. Word of this cannot go around, do you understand?"

Daryl nodded firmly, wanting him to get to the point. "Yes, sir. I understand."

He sighed and nodded back to him. "King Isaiah has a bastard son named Isaac."

There was a flicker in Daryl's eyelids hearing the revelation. A bastard son...? What is he even getting at by telling me this?

"The boy's mother was a whore from a different land," Rod continued, "so normally, he would have lived as an outcast with his mother. However, the woman insisted that the king take care of him, so he may know a life of luxury instead of ridicule and poverty. Since he was a bastard child of different skin, though, the queen hated him. Although the king simply did not feel the same love for the child he felt for the rest of his family, he at least felt it was his duty to take responsibility for him. The king later had a legitimate son, Isaiah II, and with his birth, Isaac felt the rejection even more so. During his time at the castle, he often spent his time in the library, with one of their servants. I'm assuming this servant must have been his only friend in that castle. Once he grew old enough, he and his servant ran off."

"The servant?" Daryl questioned, and then he shook his head with confusion. "Sir, why are you telling me all of this?"

"It's about the letter I just read," Rod explained, a more serious look on his face. "It seems Isaac didn't just leave the castle because of how he was being treated..." He knit his eyebrows and folded his arms, looking away in concentration once more. "The king wrote that his land will have to become more accepting of sorcery in due time, because his bastard son ran off in order to practice it. And the king suspects it was his servant that introduced it to him."

Daryl raised his eyebrows. "So...the king is willing to accept sorcery, because of this illegitimate son of his? I suppose it's because the public would be outraged if they found out he had a bastard sorcerer for a son all these years... Perhaps welcoming it would soften the blow. Is that what you're trying to tell me, sir?"

With an affirmative nod, he confirmed, "That, and something else..."

This must be the concerning part... "What is it?"

Rod scratched his chin for a moment, and then locked eyes with his swordsman. "Isaac Reeve might be the man who stalked your apprentice those years ago."

Daryl responded with a sharp breath, not only unsure how Rod came to the conclusion, but also because it had been so long since he talked about his apprentice's nightmares with someone. "Him? But...why?"

"Think about it," Rod started, taking a walk around the side of his desk, "the king's eldest son, his claim to the throne given to his younger brother, his existence hidden from the world, ousted because of his skin color and lineage, receiving only a taste of the luxurious life..." He stopped and leaned against his desk, looking at Daryl with a side glance. "Don't you remember what he wanted from Mallory?"

"To kill Eagle Eye," Daryl recalled, "but what would he gain from that?"

"He's the leader of a powerful, influential guild. Killing him will inevitably cause disorder, and perhaps Isaac plans on spreading chaos from the inside in order to gain control of the kingdom."

"And overthrow his father..." Daryl added, but then he squinted his eyes. "But why would he need Mallory?"

"Because she has a strong reason to go after him, and, soon enough, she'll have the means for doing so," Rod explained. "Not only that, but she's a young woman being trained by one of the most skilled swordsmen alive. He's taking advantage of her will and her potential as a member of this guild. Considering the possibility that he may be acting alone, using her along with others from our guild and the Sorcerers' Guild will give him more than enough force to accomplish his goal."

Daryl stared at his leader for a moment, letting the theory hang in the air for a bit before he could come up with any sort of argument. Then, he thought about something Liam said that night he told him about Mallory's nightmares.

As if reading Daryl's mind, Rod asked, "Liam said dark sorcery is too powerful for most to wield, correct?"

"Yes," Daryl confirmed, somewhat astounded by the amount of thought the old man was putting into this.

"If such a power is so picky about its wielder," Rod continued, "why not choose someone of royal blood?"

"Of tainted blood..." Daryl corrected.

Rod narrowed his eyes and stroked his goatee. He stood up straight so that he was facing Daryl directly. "You have a point about that, but I believe that's where the God of Darkness comes in. What exactly does he want in a wielder? What are the gods even like? What if...he and Isaac found common ground?"

Daryl's head jerked back, and his eyes shifted to the floor. An outcast son, and an outcast...god? "Sir, do you really think this Isaac Reeve could be the one who stalked her?"

Rod kept his eyes locked with Daryl's for a moment, a stone expression on his face as if he was absolutely certain his theory was correct. Then, his face went slack and he threw his hands up in a shrug. "My best guess. It's all I got."

Daryl nodded, unfazed by his leader's abrupt nonchalance.

"Anyway," Rod started, walking around towards the counter behind his desk to grab a dark bottle and a glass, "I've been dyin' for a drink. Why don't ya sit down with me and have some, too, for once?"

"No, sir," Daryl sighed, rolling his eyes.

Rod grunted, setting the glass on the desk and popping off the cork at the end of the bottle. He began pouring and started to say, "Suit yourself—"

Before he could finish, there was an explosive crash, like the sound of wood erupting from a fiery detonation. The impact caused the building to shake a little, almost forcing Daryl to stumble over. Daryl bared his teeth, looking back and grabbing the hilt of his sword. That has to be Garrison, right? What is he upset about this time?

A significant amount of Rod's beverage spilled out of his bottle when he caught himself from falling with a firm hand on his desk. With a harsh glare, glanced at the dampened floorboards and observed how much of his booze he lost. "Bah!" he grunted, nearly shattering the bottle placing it on the desk in frustration. He scrambled through a cabinet for a towel and then waved off Daryl. "Go see what that idiot wants this time!" he ordered, kneeling to the floor to clean up the mess and grumbling obscenities.

"Yes, sir!" the swordsman obeyed, drawing his weapon and heading out of the room to see what had transpired.

Upon reentering the main room, Daryl realized that there was a strong, burning smell emanating throughout the room. Along with that, he looked to his left to see that the place had been sprayed with wooden debris. The handlers were scrambling towards the back of the room, while most of the swordsmen stood with their weapons drawn. In spite of their defensive stances, they all had terrified looks on their faces. Not a single one of them had the sort of enthusiasm one of them would normally have upon seeing the guild's top swordsman. In addition to that, Daryl spotted Phoebus cowering behind Wade as if his life depended on it. What put Daryl off most of all, though, was the uncharacteristic glare on Wade's face. Along with that, he was not wearing his cloak, piled on the floor behind him. It can't be Garrison...

Daryl turned his attention to the right of the room, where the explosion had come from, to find that the front door had been blown apart, with only a few splints and planks hanging from its perimeter. There was a man sprawled on his side in the aisle clutching his cheek and his forearm, both of which were raw and red from what must have been fire. His face was scrunched with shut eyes and clenched teeth.

A shrill, delighted giggle erupted from the doorway. Straightening his gaze, Daryl looked towards the source of the damage. His eyes widened spotting what appeared to be a woman whose hair floated at its ends. Stepping out from the grey smoke with bare feet and spread arms, Daryl took a step back realizing that the woman's arms and hair were emitting a white fire. She wore a white, sleeveless shirt and tight, brown pants. She looked to be the same height as Grace, coupled with an hourglass figure. With the white blaze enveloping the ends of her hair, it appeared to be a crimson red at its roots, leading into a rose pink, the flames lightening its shade.

Daryl exhaled with a grimace, almost overwhelmed by the immense heat permeating the air with her presence. A sorcerer, but who is she? And what does she want?

"Ah..." she exhaled, an unsettling peace in the curve of her lips as she lowered her arms, "how I adore the smell of burning wood!" Then, she opened her chocolate brown eyes to look down at her victim, still trembling with his injuries. Her smirk grew into a thirsty grin, contorting the sharpness of her facial features to resemble a fox towering over its prey. "But I'll never adore anything like the smell of burning flesh!"

"That's enough," Daryl called, taking some steps toward her in spite of the heat.

The woman raised her head towards Daryl, her eyes widening with intrigue. "Oh," she cooed, "I've never laid eyes on anyone quite like you, love!"

"Who are you?" Daryl demanded, stopping in his tracks when the flames around her grew.

A pout formed at her lips. "Now that I think of it," she started, seeming to ignore his question, "I have burned someone like you. The flesh didn't change the way I thought it would..." With a shrug and a chuckle, she looked back down at the swordsman on the ground, who began squirming away from her. "Oh well." The fox like grin reformed and she stretched her hand towards him, a wild sphere of white-hot flame forming in her palm. "You'll do!"

Daryl's nostrils flared, charging forward to stop her but unsure how he could fight someone like that. I'll get burned, but I might be able to stop her in time...

"Victoria!" a voice called from the back of the room, the sound of the double doors swinging open along with a flood of more swordsmen storming in.

Her head perked up at the sound, the flame in her hand and the fire surrounding her diminished. The ends of her hair came down, and the color gradually faded into its original crimson color.

Daryl stopped his charge towards her, seeing that the voice had caught her attention and not willing to provoke her any further.

She chuckled once she met eyes with an enraged Liam, pushing his way through to the front of the crowd, sparks of electricity running up his arms. She spread her arms with delight and greeted, "Ginger! It's been so long!"

"What are you doing here?" Liam demanded.

"Aww, you aren't happy to see me?" the woman asked, her arms lowering and the sides of her mouth drooping in faux disappointment. She pressed her hands to her chest. "That hurts. Especially since you never invite me to anything."

While she was distracted, Daryl sheathed his sword and swooped in to pick up the man on the floor, grabbing him by the back of his head and under his knees. As he expected, the woman retaliated by throwing an arm in his direction, her palm becoming a flamethrower as it spewed a pillar of white fire. Daryl dodged it with a pivot towards the front of the room, feeling a slight sting as only a bit of the fire barely missed his lower back. He sprinted to a corner to set the man down and away from the sorceress, who stopped her attack in an instant. Daryl looked back at her, wondering why she stopped.

She had a bewildered grin on her face staring back at the swordsman. "You shouldn't get that close to me so fast, love! I've got quite the reflexes, much like you—"

Before she could finish, Liam threw his arm up and sent a spark of electricity at her sternum, causing her to stagger backwards and clutch her chest. Her upper body reeled forward, her voluminous hair covering her head like a curtain. "You've caused enough trouble here!" Liam barked. "It's time for you to go!"

Mallory and Grace managed to get to the front of the crowd right behind Liam, finally seeing the source of the chaos. Grace's eyes widened. "So that's Victoria..." she acknowledged.

"Who is she?" Mallory whispered back, trying to contain her growing urge to go after her.

Grace glanced at Liam, and then at Wade and Phoebus to her left. She turned to Mallory and answered, "TheirGarrison."

All that could be heard from Victoria after being shocked was heaving, but what surprised and disturbed them all was when that heaving turned into laughter. She raised her head up with that wide smile that contorted her face, the brown freckles that spread across the bridge of her nose and to her cheekbones were hardly visible. "Silly, silly, ginger..." she mumbled, her hair flowing back to the sides of her face. "You know that doesn't work on me!"

"Get out of here, I said!" Liam spat.

She straightened herself out and tilted her head. "Ah, but we have so much catching up to do!"

Daryl turned back to the injured man and examined his burns. He had some cuts on his wrist, presumably from the debris of the explosion. The flesh on his hand and cheek was slightly jagged and pink, but it did not look like something he could not recover from. "Are you alright?" Daryl asked.

"I'm fine," he answered, "thank you..."

Daryl nodded and said, "Stay here." He rose from his crouched position and drew his sword, walking quietly towards the newcomer but keeping his distance.

"Besides," Victoria continued, "I still have something to—"

"He s-said leave!" someone yelled in a high-pitched scream.

Victoria looked to her right to find that it was Phoebus, who immediately shuddered upon meeting her demented gaze. "Phoebus?" she called, chuckling at him hiding behind Wade once more. "Is that you, runt? I'm astonished you haven't gone missing as well!"

Liam tilted his head back with a twitch of his brow. "Wait, what did you say?"

"Oho," she chuckled, looking back at Liam, "so now you'd like to talk? You really are no fun anymore!"

"Either tell us why you're here or get out!" Mallory commanded, stepping up to Liam's side. Grace grabbed her by the wrist to stop her, but Mallory firmly yanked away, refusing to watch the sorceress do what she wanted any longer.

Startled, Liam stepped to his right and shot Mallory a worried look. "Mallory!" he scolded in a hushed tone. "Don't get involved!"

"I'm not scared of her," Mallory replied, keeping her eyes on the sorceress.

Victoria's eyes grew at the sight of Mallory, glistening with some sort of fascination. "My, my," she cooed, staring at her robust arms, "and who might you be, love?"

Daryl turned his attention to his apprentice from across the room. She glanced at him to meet his gaze, to which he widened his glare and shook his head with forewarning. We know nothing of this woman's power! Do not challenge her!

Mallory flared her nostrils and took a breath, a hint of defiance in her eyes while she stared back at her master. She could tell exactly what he was thinking, and that he was right, but she could not stand by while the stranger continued to stir chaos without reason. She felt that she would only be acting recklessly if she attacked her, but she was merely confronting her, so she figured it would be alright. With that, her eyes shifted back to the female flamethrower and demanded, "You answer our questions first!"

"With all this hostility in the air?" Victoria retorted, spreading her arms out in a gesture towards the armed men that had gradually been closing in on her. "The only one you lot should be angry at is him!" She turned around to the corner of the room where the injured man sat, some men at his sides to aid and protect him. With a theatric shrug, she explained, "All I wanted was to come in like I should be allowed to, after all..." She put a hand to her chest with a haughty smirk and side-eye. "I am the greatest sorceress of the Sorcerers' Guild, with which the Swordsmen's Guild has been allied with for seven years. And I did tell him that I'm from the Sorcerers' Guild and should be allowed entry." Then, she pointed an accusing finger at her victim. "Yet that bugger wouldn't open the door for me! An ally!"

"None of us know who you are, crazy!" one of the swordsmen at the man's side yelled.

"You aren't wearing your cloak," Liam countered. "How was he supposed to believe you?"

The sorceress flipped her hair back and turned to Liam with a cocked eyebrow. "I wouldn't be caught dead in that thing." Then, she giggled and added, "Besides, I'm certain he believes me now!"

Liam huffed, fuming and shaking his head.

"Oh, don't give me that look, ginger!" Victoria whined. "I only gave him what he deserved. What sort of gentleman doesn't open the door for a lady?"

"What sort of 'lady' blows a door down and tries to burn someone to death?" one of the men with the victim questioned.

She glanced back towards the source of the voice as more and more of the men became bold with their anger. The outrage became outspoken as they started barking orders and insults at the sorceress, who looked around at them with an unwavering smirk and a deepening frown. Once the volume of their yelling reached its peak and the men surrounding her took a step too close, her arms and upper back erupted in white flame, her hair rising with its previous, fiery transformation. The men stepped back at once, feeling the breathtaking heat once more and being reminded how deadly the newcomer was.

Victoria laughed that shrill laugh of hers, relishing in the frightened looks on their faces. "Ah, that's more like it!" she swooned with her fox expression. She looked back and forth to either side of the mob, like she was expecting someone to come forward. "Come, now, surely one of you would like to get burned! Please, I'm famished!"

As much as Grace wanted to step in, too, she knew that this was no situation that she could control. She looked to her husband and hoped that he could find a way to calm her down. However, with the stories he told her on their vacation, even he would not know how to stop her. C'mon...someone has to do something!

Liam stuck an arm out towards her, ready to shock her again with more force, until he locked eyes with her and realized that she was ready for it. The only reason why she reacted the way she did the first time he shocked her was because she was distracted with Daryl. He grimaced, remembering the last time he tried to stop her in that state with significant electrocution. It won't even bother her...she's insane!

Mallory stood her ground, closing her fists so tight her knuckles went almost as white as the flames enveloping the sorceress. An opening...I just need an opening...

Beads of sweat formed at Daryl's hairline, not only from the heat, but with the image that triggered in his mind: the hut on fire, lighting the night sky. In that moment, he felt petrified for the first time in over a decade and a half. His sword trembled in his shaky grasp. Then, almost as quickly as the feeling overcame him, he felt something familiar, something much more serene. He regained his composure and looked around to see that it was not just him that felt it.

In an instant, their expressions calmed, and their breathing became more regular. Victoria's eyes widened as her grin finally dropped. Her flames even diminished slightly, coming down more closely towards her figure. "Wait..." she whispered. Then, her head shot up and she hissed, "Wait! Where is he...?" She looked to the area where Phoebus was cowering, then an epiphany wrote itself on her expression when she locked eyes with the young man Phoebus was shaking behind. A harsh scowl defined her countenance as it dawned on her who he was. "You...!"

Wade looked down at his powerful associate from across the room with a more subdued glare, knowing that his own mood often influenced how others were affected by his presence. With her undivided attention, though, his breathing got shakier.

Mallory followed Victoria's gaze to find that she was glowering at her dear friend. She felt a twinge of fury spike through her body, and she shot a look back at the sorceress.

"I didn't recognize you without the cloak," she noted, disgust dripping in her tone, "you've gotten tall, mouse." Then, she raised her head as a devious smirk formed at the corner of her mouth. "Then I suppose that just means there's more of you to cook!"

Wade's eyes got big and he leaned back, shoving people around him to protect them from the impending flames.

As soon as the wicked sorceress threw an arm in his direction, Mallory pounced towards her at full speed and clutched her throat, causing an echoing slapping noise upon contact. Her skin was hot, and the air was thick with her scorching aura, but Mallory could feel it cooling down with the shock of her assault. When Victoria locked eyes with her, Mallory placed a leg behind hers, sweeping her off of her balance by kicking the back of her foot. Victoria's legs went up in the air as Mallory brought her down to the floor, slamming her head into the floorboards and dropping to her knees to hover over the sorceress. She pinned her wrist against the floor with her free hand, further constraining her as the flames fully dissipated.

Her eyes were squeezed shut, gasping for air as Mallory applied pressure. Finally, the assailant appeared to be under control. Almost everyone in the room looked on with a collective sigh of relief. The only people who still seemed concerned were the sorcerers, Phoebus still crouched over and trembling while Wade watched Mallory with a nervous grimace and wide eyes.

"Uh, Mallory!" Liam called, cautiously walking toward them. "You might wanna get off!"

Ignoring Liam's warning, Mallory bored onto Victoria's helpless disposition, the woman placing her hand on Mallory's hold on her neck. There. She's mine. "Are you gonna cooperate now?" Mallory asked, deepening her glare and leaning closer to the woman.

Grace stifled a cheer and shook a fist triumphantly. At first, she was worried about Mallory confronting her, but at that point she realized she was underestimating the girl's judgement and skills. That's it! Show her who's boss!

Daryl blinked rapidly at his apprentice's display of strength and bravery. On one side, he was upset that she put her life at risk, yet on the other side he was glad that she took control of what could have been a catastrophe. With that in mind, he took a breath and nodded. Well done, Mallory.

With her eyes still closed, Victoria exhaled a, "Haaa..."

Mallory narrowed her eyes, realizing she was trying to say something. The girl eased up her hold on the woman's neck, sure to keep her from making any other movements. "What?" Mallory barked. That is when Mallory noticed something peculiar about Victoria's hand on hers. She thought Victoria was attempting to pull Mallory's hand off her neck, but it felt like she was pulling it closer.

Then, Victoria flashed her eyes open at her captor with a grin curving each side of her mouth. The sparkle in her chocolate eyes and her melted eyebrows reflected the feeling of pure euphoria. "Harder!"

As if she had seen a ghost, Mallory pulled herself off of the woman with a sharp breath, jumping to her feet and letting her go. She watched in bewilderment while the sorceress dragged herself back on her feet, laughing and caressing her throat.

While she was in the crowd and too far away to hear what the sorceress said, Grace frowned up with puzzlement at Mallory's reaction. She had her. What happened?

Victoria's gaze remained playful and delighted even in Mallory's appalment, although there was a hint of disappointment in her lowered grin. "What's the matter, darling? I thought you weren't scared of me!"

What's wrong with her...?