Ebony and Arwen both stand in the temple of Umbra, a place of grand pillars, of pristine white and black marble,
shadowfyre candles that are constantly burning in the air with premium incenses. And decorated with opulent black statues of all the shadow Queens of Old. The statues along with Queen Arwen and Ebony stand watching the body of Cierra Raduron up upon a raised black marble surface.

It is a cold grand place, all the minor priestesses shuffling around in white robes and their superiors in black. Umbra is the only city that allows priestesses to keep their gifts and the only ones whose superior priestesses wear queens blacks - in honour of the Goddess they say.

After Cierra was found, murdered in the home of a Raduron different estate she had been visiting, Ebony bid her body be taken to the temple and prepared for her shadowfyre burning and the laying of her ashes to rest.

All the servants at the residence at the time are still in Draven Mansion, Ebony has been torturing them herself along with her cousin Orpheus. Yet none have revealed anything. Though Ebony is not inherently malicious, she is determined, Arwen knows that she will not stop until she gets an answer.

The Head Priestess Leonine has just finished stitching the gaps in her former guardian. So many puncture wounds. Her face is the only thing recognisable, the only thing left untouched. A shame, Arwen thinks, if I had killed her I would've destroyed her vanity completely.

"They took their time about it, and must have immobilised her in some way I would suggest as there are no signs of resistance in her wounds," Leonine says, her voice monotonous as she begins washing her hands in the basin of water next to her. Arwen watches with a twisted fascination as the blood starts to stain the water, fusing into it.

"How many stab wounds did you count?" Ebony asks wearily, her silver hair uncharacteristically plain and unbound, wearing robes of crimson already.

"Forty six," Leonine clips, looking at Ebony strangely for a moment with an uncharacteristic tenderness, "I am sorry for your loss my lady but you cannot think too much of it, her suffering is over, she is with our Goddess now."

The priestess gives Ebony a small smile before stepping down from the dais, leaving the two by Cierra. Ebony makes a pious symbol, pressing a kiss into her sister's frozen hand, now cleaned off the blood, "yes she is with the Goddess now," she agrees, letting a single tear fall before turning her face back to Arwen grimly.

"I know you hated her Arwen and that I alone mourn my sister but thank you for coming with me today," Ebony says, pressing a kiss against Arwen's cheek.

"You're welcome Ebony," Arwen replies, her voice hoarse. She has not used it properly for a week, only to shout in those first few days after he died, "I know you cared for your sister and though it is painful, I am happy that you now lead the shadows."

"Only until you become Queen Crowned," Ebony replies.

"If I become Queen Crowned."

Arwen could if she wanted. If she truly wanted. She is powerful enough, she knows that. But revenge is the only thing motivating her - what is left after Carina is dead? She will have nothing but her pain to focus on, nothing but a grim darkness.

"When you become Queen Crowned," Ebony insists, a burning intensity in her pale lilac eyes, "I swear to you that I will do everything in my power to get you on that throne, your grief will never truly pass but you will find other things to live for, you are so young and so powerful, but no longer the sweet little girl I once knew. I sense a change in you, but that change will push you to greatness, as it did me all those years ago when I lost my dear child ... sometimes pain is necessary to unlock a shadows full potential."

Ebony means well Arwen knows but she would have rather been a giftless nobody than had this pain and greater power. Though she will tread carefully, Ebony has lost her sister and her baby all those years ago.

It almost makes Arwen feel sad. Ebony would have been a great mother. As Arwen would have been a good wife. But fate had other plans. The Goddess always has other plans.

"I have risen in station and so shall you, and when all our enemies are dead and you have taken the throne, I swear you will be safe and happy," Ebony says, stroking Arwen's cheek who just looks through her with hollow black eyes.

Ebony is right in one thing.

All their enemies will be dead. Or subjected to fates much worse.

3 Days later:
The aftermath of the funeral

"It is with a heavy heart we mourn my dear sister," Ebony Raduron laments, "she was a strong capable and fierce leader of our great city and her loss will never be forgotten nor shall it go unpunished, together we will get through this loss."

Together.

The word stirs something sour in Arwen. She cannot help but remember.

"I don't care where we go as long as we're together."

Together. It makes Arwen beam to hear him say it. Yes they would be together. It might have been naive of her but some part of her thinks that together they could face anything. Take on the world even.

As they pull apart he raises an eyebrow, "but before we leave I need to ask you one more thing."

"What?" Arwen asks puzzled but still all smiles.

"Will you marry me?"

She had been naive indeed. A cruel reversal of fortune, if the Goddess had a heart Arwen would not be standing her, pretending to mourn the monster who raised her. She would be in Centra. Or some other far away land. Happy with her husband.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, a small voice whispers. No it was not. But the game the island plays is an ugly one and thanks to fate she will not stop playing. Not until the next funeral's is Carina.

And after that, what does she care? Nalani could end her after that, drown in fire so she could rise again and reunite with him in the next life. Though a small kernel in her recoils at the thought, telling her that she must live to take the throne. But that voice is unfamiliar and she does not wish to listen to it. The old her could've been a good queen but this version, Arwen can see nothing but darkness in her future.

The rage starts to boil at even thinking of her poisoner sister. Before it would've scared her, she never thought herself capable of such rage. She knew it always stirred beneath her skin, that she had the capability but she always tried to keep it at bay, because when the darkness takes over it consumes.

The only rage similar she has ever felt is towards that girl, Neela, who nearly killed Klaude in an effort to get to Arwen. What she did to that girl down there in the dark is something that brought her a twisted joy. Still, all her fault that his life was threatened. It happened once she should've foreseen that it would've happened again. Collateral damage. She turns her attention back to the crowd before her thoughts can torment her any longer.

The majority of shadows in the city have gathered, all dressed in varying degrees of red, even the commoners. So many heads of silver, white and black, like her own. There are hints of other hair colours of foreign features, it is easy to tell who is native to Umbra and who isn't.

Most murmur in agreement at Ebonh's speech, some with eyes of anger, some of fear, some of glee. All the shadow nobility is assembled at the front, separated from the rest who stand at least five metres behind them as is Umbran custom.  The rest of the residents are massed in the back filling the entirety of Lancton Square. All stand under the gaze of Queen Arwen, Ebony Raduron and Pele Murtra, raised above them all on a dais.

This is the first time Arwen has officially met the Head of the Black Council and one of the few times she has come to Umbra. A pretty yet stern woman with a pale complexion and that dramatic blood red hair that the Murtra are famed for, the first war gifted head of council in centuries. Her last visit was to punish Cierra for forcing Arwen to execute a prisoner in this very square. And now for Cierra's death which she assured to both Arwen and Ebony that the Black Council would investigate, promising justice. As if Cierra deserved such a notion.

So much death. She remembers a few days prior having her own funeral for her husband. She sent his body into Ondina's Cove on the boat they had sailed on only months ago. Was she really that happy then? She remembers it all. Remembers the day they sailed, he gifted her the dagger she named Orenmir.

He nods slowly, his smile increasing, "its name is as enchanting as you are."

Arwen shakes her head, a small rueful smile on her face, "I am not enchanting."

He only kisses her cheek, leaving a warm caress on her skin. Then he pulls away and looks at her with such wonder in his blue eyes then shakes his head in return,

"One day you will see you as I see you," Klaude says, caressing her cheek with this thumb lovingly.

Though she wish she didn't remember. The tenor of his voice, the sound of his laugh, the curve of his smile, the way he felt with his arms around her and the love she felt when they shared a bed. Love.

"Promise me this is forever," Arwen says turning towards him as he stops kissing her neck for a minute locking eyes with her.

"I will be yours till the day I die, always and forever," Klaude says with another smile and that alone fills her with such happiness.

Forever. Love. A fairytale.  A poison. At least she will never have her heart burdened by such an emotion ever again. Or any real emotion for that matter. The darkness that curls up inside of her makes sure of it. In a way she is glad. It is all she has left.

And she is also glad that she wears not even a slither of red. She wears queens blacks as normal. One final spite to Cierra's memory. She hopes the bitch is rotting in hell.

Her funeral was at dusk, the start of the shadow day, a private event attended only by Ebony, Arwen, the Head Priestess of Umbra's temple, and a few other Radurons including Orpheus and his wife Narine Haven. They burned her, then Ebony moulded her shadows into the flame creating shadowfyre. So Cierra left the world burning in black flames of night. The Raduron cousins wept a few tears but not Ebony nor Arwen. Stoic till the end.

And now it is truly nighttime, a bleak one with dark clouds coat the even darker sky and there is no glimpse of the moon to be seen. Unusual for Umbra, where the moon typically shines that much brighter and bathes the city in its moonlight. Large torches of fire bubble surrounding the dais - more for the Head of the Black Council's sake, who needs no sign of mourning with her blood red hair. Not that Pele will weep a tear for Cierra. But protocol and honour demands her presence, Arwen can feel that stoic sense of duty within the war gifted leader.

Ebony stands in stark contrast to Arwen's black hair and black dress. Every inch of her is coated in crimson, a long sleeved red mourning dress, no necklace on account of the dresses high neckline that begins to permeate to her throat - even her hands are stained red with the gloves she wears. And there are small rubies woven into her elaborate silvery up-do. No one can doubt the pretty picture of the grieving sister.

"Cierra Raduron was a monument to what all shadows should be, with unparalleled strength and determination, a desire to protect every one of her people," Ebony continues, her voice so assured and genuine. It makes Arwen want to scoff. The only thing Cierra desired was her own rise in power, she would've gladly killed everyone in this square if it meant taking Pele's place and ruling on Arwen's throne.

Oddessa Valkova is in attendance with her husband, Keir and her brood of children. The red of their clothes made even more vivid by their dark skin and their white/silver heads of hair. The oldest, Carmen, and the twins Demetria and Damon are all in formal mourning clothes, the twin children appear bored toying at their red sleeves, though one stern glance from their mother has them mimicking the Valkova adults' faces impassive faces.

Only Carmen keeps trying to catch Arwen's eye but the queen looks away. She can feel the sympathy radiating off of Carmen Valkova, and it is too overwhelming. Not for Cierra but she knew what he meant to Arwen. And the worst thing is the girl does want to be there for Arwen to comfort her. Arwen can feel that Carmen is as genuine as she claimed to be the first time they met in Tenebris Avenue. Unfortunate.The queen needs no comforting nor any tears, only revenge interests her now.

Narine Haven, another bedazzled red bird of the mass of nobles, manages to squeeze out a tear beside her new husband, Orpheus Haven, formerly Raduron. Almost as if she actually cares. But none of them do, Cierra was feared and admired for the strength of her gift but she was never loved. All there that remains to celebrate her memory is a sea of these crimson pretenders. The red makes her want to vomit, so much like the blood out of his nose.

Arwen can feel them all. The pretenders. Mostly the nobility, with the exception of the Valkovas. But the Havens, the Umbers, the Valeskas and the Dragomirs all out on quite an act, seeking the favour of the new Raduron ruler as well as putting their humanity on display for the city's people.

She could never feel them before, but now if she desired she could read the emotions of every person in attendance. Not only the giftless or the weaker shadows. Even the fiercest shadows,which should not be possible
with their strength. No other shadow should be able to break into their mind. It is curious, she knows of no other who can do such a thing.

Her gift has grown more powerful in most aspects apart from teleportation, an incredibly rare gift in itself, but at what cost? His death. She would have given up every fibre of her power, her own life to save his. But it is pointless now. What's done is done. She is the first shadow queen in eons, one with a gift to rival the Queens of Old. Yet she couldn't save him. It makes her realise, that the shadow gift is only good for one thing. Death. And that serves her purpose now. To end Queen Carina and if any Arrons got in her way she would kill the lot of them, down to the last snakeshead.

It is refreshing in a way to feel the emotions of those gathered here, their hearts replace her own. She feels nothing these days. Just an overwhelming numbness, tainted with outbursts of anger. She is glad that only anger remains. It is the only emotion worth trusting.

And no one genuinely mourns Cierra. Shadows are not famed for their empathy and Cierra did nothing to inspire any. Not even her younger sister who is giving such a heart felt speech.

She can even feel Ebony's emotions, and she is full of satisfaction, an intense desire for action rather than grief but Arwen can hardly blame her. Cierra wasn't exactly loveable, even to her family. And now Ebony has been promoted to the matriarch of one of the island's most powerful families.

"Rest assured that under Queen Arwen's leadership and my own, the shadows shall herald in a new Silver Age, rivalling that of our shadow Queens of Old," Ebony practically shouts and the shadows all rise to meet her cry, brandishing raven banners, "they will all know what it means to strike at one of us is to strike out all of us," the new Raduron matriarch booms, so full of conviction and satisfaction as the crowds jeers again, raven symbols appearing everywhere now, "we will have no mercy for our enemies yet unwavering loyalty to our allies, and most of all we will have faith in the Goddess, she has blessed us with the first shadow queen in a millennia, it is an omen she knows that only Queen Arwen can restore Fennbirn to its all might and shadow queens will keep the island's peace for a millennia to come!"

The crowds shout again, nearly every person brandishing some form of raven symbol, their emotions wavering with intensity. They truly do believe in her. For their own ends.

Of course Ebony would initiate a raven's call. A symbol of allegiance and admiration to a shadow queen during a public showing. Ravens are sacred to shadow queens, believed to be the Goddess in animal form. They are queens in a way. Somebody must have spread the old customs back to the Umbrans. Perhaps Cierra before she met her end. Anything for an advantage.

Arwen stares coolly at them, unblinking and passive. Let Ebony rile them up, let her play her political games. Such a show of admiration once would've endeared her, now it is meaningless. She would much rather have their fear. Nobody, not even her people are to be trusted. One of them must've been in league with the marriage priest and Carjna - she knows it deep in her heart.

She feels concern stir in Pele interestingly enough. Amusing. Rumour has it she favours Queen Nalani. But let her pit the might of Umbra with that of Rolanth's elementals. The shadows have more conviction, all riled up after their ruler's demise, and they are ravenous for more power. If it truly came to it, Arwen believes that none of the other gifts could combat the shadows. Perhaps only the oracles if they had their full night. Oracles and shadows are closest after all, the sight gifted used to be able to read minds and emotional auras, see strong visions of present, past and future. And now they are reduced to nothing.

That will happen to all of them in the end.

Pele moves to Ebony's side as the crowd claps for her, placing a hand on the shadow's shoulder. Arwen feels a maliciousness stir up in Ebony, only for a flash before becoming more neutral, graciously letting Pele take centre stage and coming to Arwen's side, giving her a small comforting smile to which Arwen returns. It feels unnatural to smile. But she owes it to Ebony at least.

Ebony has been and is the only one on her side always, the one who sat with her while she sobbed raged. Not leaving her side even when Arwen hurled abuses at her. Ebony Raduron is not her mother but she is the only person who holds a remnant of meaning for Arwen.

"Good evening citizens of Umbra," Pele booms, "it is a grave loss to your good city and your queen to have lost Cierra Raduron, the island mourns her gloss, and I want to remind you that the matter of Cierra's death is currently under investigation by the Black Council and I am personally spearheading this investigation, so if any of you here today have any knowledge of the person or persons who may have done it I urge you to report it me directly at Indrid Down."

The crowd eye her suspiciously and with a little resentment. Shadows are traditional and tradition has dictated for centuries that the Radurons hold sovereignty over the city separate from the island. They do not willingly accept Pele's authority. Yet with Arwen comes the possibility of more power but puts them back into the fold and under the jurisdiction of the Black Council. And shadows do not much care for war gifted. Narine Haven once said to Arwen scathingly that war gifted are nothing more than guard dogs and executioners.

It may be true, Arwen has never visited Bastian City or Indrid Down so who is to say for the general nature of the war gifted. Though judging from Pele's small speech war gifted never do mince words. There is a refreshing quality about such candor, Arwen thinks, a simplicity.

Though if Pele found who took Cierra's life she would likely behead them herself. Arwen however would make the guilty party the Head of her Black Council for ridding her of Cierra. The thought nearly makes her laugh. Nearly.

"If any are found to be harbouring murderers or protecting them they will be dealt with the same way as the murderer herself, they will be taken to me at Indrid Down and beheaded in front of the crowds,"
Pele says, her tone hard, "do bear that in mind, the death of a queens guardian is not something the island takes lightly and whoever is responsible will be brought to justice under my rule now with all that being said, on behalf of the Black Council we mourn the loss of one of the island's strongest and finest but I believe your city to be in good hands under Ebony Raduron's watchful eye."

That warms the crowd up a bit and many gaze to Ebony who smiles at Pele graciously and then back to the crowd in front. Cierra wasn't loved but Ebony always has been. The Delight of Umbra.

"Thank you Pele Murtra," Ebony says with a steady tone, "I second the Black Council's statement, if any of you are found to have knowledge of my sister's murderer and fail to come forward you shall be dealt with as if you had struck her down yourself, there will be no mercy, in the wake of this grief I will take leadership over our great city. It is far past time that Umbra truly integrated itself back into Fennbirn, Umbra's borders will start opening more, welcoming more trade merchants and residents. And if any snakehead wants to pop up, Queen Arwen will be ready," she promises, a murderous glint in her eye as the shadow nobles start to smile along with her.

Arwen forces a smile. Two minutes into her new role and Ebony already has an angle. Though their enemies likely expected the murder of Cierra to rattle them, to shut Umbra off from the island even more, Ebony is practically shouting at them to come forward. To come in. To try.

Perhaps the murderer is already here, Arwen thinks grimly, staring into the eyes of the many gathered. They never thought anyone would dare strike at Cierra yet Arwen knows Ebony will not make that same mistake. And people forget but she is powerful in her own right, out of Cierra's shadows.

And perhaps this news will invite her sisters to dare to visit, Arwen can sumise that neither of them will particularly want to enter into Umbra. It is foreign and they will be surrounded by those whose gifts they do not understand. Ebony is trying to bait them all to enter the lion's den.

As if Arwen needs it. Perhaps before. Not now. There is not a corner on the island her sisters could hide from her forever, especially Carina. Whether they come to Umbra or she hunts them they will die. The poisoner will die in pain, screaming with heightened pain and fear.

"Long live our Queen Arwen!" Carmen Valkova shouts, brandishing her raven banner the highest and several cries follow suit, even her mother. Then they all do, so many ravens flying around as they all bow. Every single one of the people in attendance.

Something inside of her enjoys the sight, of so many pledging their allegiance and acknowledging their own inferiority. Foolish mortals, Arwen thinks.

She puts out a hand for them to rise, and they all do. She can feel the emotions of those truly loyal and those who are not. The ones not are of little consequence. They will be dealt with eventually. They are just little snakes after all. Nothing compared to the prize of Carina.

And Arwen has dealt with many snakes in her life, cutting off the head of a lesser one will hardly be much trouble.