Two weeks before a royal wedding, and the castle was shaken to its core. Once again rumors ran rampant and whispers reigned, however, it did not surround the wedding as it usually would.

Gwyneth had been the high sorceress for as long as anyone could remember. Kings of ancient Catala had inherited her counsel, and the sons of these kings and their sons had as well. An everlasting system for years upon years, now interrupted. It came as no surprise to anyone that the circumstance became the only topic to grace the tongues of the entirety of the kingdom.

There had been another high sorcerer, once. Cyrus The Magical had aided the founding of Catala on Catorada, along with the first king. Gwyneth, Cyrus's own apprentice, had assassinated him as well, claiming the spot for her own.

Lexa recalled the last occasion she stood in this exact spot, with the crowds of the arena roaring and her position on this balcony, like a true monarch. It made her think of how far she had come, how she was standing where the dreams of her childhood had occupied.

She had imagined, though, that this ritual would not have occurred until much later. That she would be the queen to shift Bennie from an apprentice to a high sorcerer.

On the sanded grounds of the arena, Bennie stood surrounded by 10 bounded sorcerers. Each one of these sorcerers shivered in the anticipation of what they knew what would become of them, along with the cries of the packed stands. Lexa, in all of her life, had never seen the arena so full. It made perfect sense, though. For this was the event of the centuries, and not a single soul would dare to miss it.

This was the ritual of a new high sorcerer, the event the differentiated an apprentice from the most powerful being in the land.

Each of the sorcerers would represent their own specialty, forgoing their own lives for the benefit of the next high sorcerer. Some were taken to their knees willingly, some not as much. It was simple to see who those were, the ones who did not feel the need to give up their lives. They were the ones with bruised bodies, blooded wounds, and perhaps most notably of all, a desperate need for survival flickering in their expressions.

The young noble girl for physical sorcery.
The farmer boy for light.
The defiant woman for immortality.

These were the ones who would not wield their lives. Tragic for them, Lexa supposed. If only they were faster, had been a little bit smarter, then maybe they could have evaded the country for their lives.

If they could not keep themselves alive, then they did not deserve to live. Not in her kingdom.

Bennie differentiated from these sorcerers in that he was an omega, a rare type that could wield all the specialties. Omega's, however, could rarely ever use their certain abilities to the point of having the power of being specialized.

Unless, of course, an omega underwent this ritual.

Bennie met eyes with Lexa from where he stood in waiting, that smirk of his teasing her from afar. He could probably sense that she was think of him, relishing in it.

He must have needed something to tease, she supposed. He was about to kill ten people.

"An interesting development, don't you think sister?" A feminine voice crooned beside her. "How...coincidental."

Cleo, with whispers of blackmail and her position as Adelaide's First Lady, had managed to weasel herself a spot on the balcony she never would have been able to manage as simply the bastard of the king.  Will, who tended to dote on his half sister, was quite notably overjoyed by her presence, and Lexa couldn't say that she was unhappy with his distraction. Lately the prince had become pathetically clingy.

Will watched, waiting for Adelaide's reaction. The innocent chime that he expected, not the sneers that Cleo and Lexa shared behind closed doors.

Lexa smiled that bright smile, the one that made people get lost in a sunny euphoria upon just glancing at her.

"Truly. It's an amazing event to experience, for it's one for the history books. Things have changed and shifted always throughout history, don't you agree Cleona?"

About to respond, Cleo was interrupted by the beginning of the ritual. A gigantic boom erupted throughout the arena, enough to shake the earth under her feet.

Bennie took the telepathy sorcerer first. The body collapsed with a blade to the heart, like every bone in his body suddenly went limp. The blood oozed down a carved canal, flowing towards a large circle carved out of the center of the arena. The next body did the same, and then the next. Soon the circle in the center was no longer a puddle of crimson, but rather a pool.

Bennie, with a apprehensive glance at Lexa and ten bodies lying dead around him, stepped into the pool.

And the world fell into blinding light.

Deep in the slums, where the wretched odor of human waste reigned as king, Lexa slithered from shadow to shadow. With a dark cloak to hide her, she blended in both with the darkened alleys and the rare other people who roamed the streets. The assassins and the criminals were hidden in the mist and the moonless night just as she was.

It had been a good while since Lexa had left the palace alone. Watchful eyes of guards and the workings of a previous high sorceress both eradicated her ability and her need to do so. But with the change in power came new opportunities. Now she was able to execute so much more.

Lexa had made sure to avoid Bennie since the ritual for this reason. She couldn't let him know where she was going, and now with all of that power, he could know with just a thought of his own.

He would have wanted to come with her. And she couldn't have that.

Especially now, with him being weak after the ritual. It had taken to much out of him. She knew that he would pretend not so, but at this moment, he was more vulnerable than ever.

She wouldn't risk Bennie. Not ever.

She passed the secret entrance to the market of mages, and snickered in remembrance at the stupidity of some of its inhabitants.

Mages never tended to be very bright. Knock off sorcerers were all that they were.

After long passing the dark market, She halted in front of a door, boarded together with wooded planks. A lotus symbol was etched into one of the planks.

She knocked, once loud on top of the lotus, then softer on the right side twice.

The door creaked open, and two eyes peaked out from behind it. In seconds they disappeared, only to be replaced by a lone door for what felt like hours.

Lexa huffed. How long could these people keep her waiting?

She nudged the door open, cautiously stepping inside as the door creaked. There was nothing to this place, except for an abandoned room. A single candle was lit, sitting upon a small table in the center of the room. Despite it though, the room was far too dark to see much at all.

And that was it. There was nothing else.

That is, until Lexa felt a sharp prick at her neck.

Just as she collapsed, her hand flew to her neck, where she found a dart imbedded in it.

It seemed, that now Lexa was getting a taste of her own medicine. Because as soon as she felt the bright, blistering pain of heat coursing through her veins, she knew what circulated through them.

This wasn't any poison.

This was Mortolo Hebalia

Shit.

The sound of boots marching along the stone was the only thing she could hear. They stepped in front of her sight, and paralyzed on the ground, those boots also became the only thing that she could see.

They were scarred boots, the kind that had been through much. In her life in the slums, Lexa had seen many boots like these.

And she knew, from the way that they seemed to fall apart at the seams, that they could never lead to anything good.

Everything in her mind fell to darkness.