The world was grey.

She looked upon a foreign land.

She looked upon her own self. The spitting image of her own daughter, dressed in robes of white with the subtlest blue hue.

She lay in a pit, bleeding from her skull. Death was all around her.

She knew this scene.

Men approached, riding beasts. She knew their names, Earth Drakes, Behemoths they were called. They were amongst the countless lesser species of Wyrm.

Alfheim had ten dragons only the Platinum Class could tame once upon a time. Beneath them lay the Sea Drakes, Leviathans, who the Gold Class could tame. Followed by the Sky Drakes, Wyverns, who only the Silver Class could tame, and then, finally, there were these, the Earth Drakes, whom only Bronze Class rode into battle.

This was Alfheim’s, the Nidhogg Empire’s, vanguard. She rose from the ditch, but was captured all the same, she was dragged away.

She need not guess what could have, and likely should have, been her fate that day. Few kingdoms let women go to war, even Venus City only allowed it because their kin were “cursed” and they had no others to send. That reason was simple, simple yet sickening.

She'd been prepared to commit suicide, to protect her dignity, her people’s secret, and also, to prevent herself from contributing to the birth of future enemies. Yet before she could take her own life that day, as if a miracle out of a child’s fairy tale, she was saved.

That man, a man she hated, a man she refuted, competed with and spurned at every opportunity, came to her rescue. He even carried her on his back without a single word until they were all safely back in allied lands.

She begrudged it, she frowned at him as he stood over her, but still he carried her home. Some part of her felt relief, safety, security, in the arms of an ally, in the company of one not her foe…

________________________________________

The war raged on, time passed swiftly, she never forgot that day. That man had become trapped, for days even, between two of the enemy’s armies.

She rode out to return the favour of him saving her that time before.

She succeeded, she opened a path and brought his men food and water, as well as treatment and much needed rest. On the way back, she and that man had stood back to back against the enemy who had once again encircled them, but this time, with no valley to close them off, they fought their way out without issue.

She always maintained she was just returning the favour but, thinking back, she had enjoyed those days.

___________________________________________

That man was tall as life, such that he could carry her on his shoulder like a child, but she was no child, and she was indeed infatuated with him.

When he defeated her as children she bore both grudge and shame. When he rescued her that shame grew and when she rescued him it was only because she’d something to prove and yet, at some point, none of that was true anymore.

Taunting and goading hid beneath what could only be called flirting, everyone could see the two of them had an attraction, except for them, of course.

Then one day she just watched him walk away. She overcame it all and let them out, all her true thoughts, her desires, and her feelings, but still he walked away.

“Why?” She couldn’t help but say, "Why did you walk away?"

________________________________________

“Why? Why did you walk away?” She muttered as the hustle and bustle in the courtyard awoke her. The Lady of Venus, Nymph, rose from her slumber.

Was that a dream or a nightmare? She did wonder. Whichever it was, those events were long since over.

She turned her head to hear the clash of metal on metal coming from her window. She saw her long time subordinate, and friend, Melany, standing there staring at what was going on down below.

“Such noisy children,” The Lady said bitterly.

“Indeed...but that’s youth,” Said Melany. Nymph shook her head. Then, only a moment later, a retching pain forced her body forward. Coughs and wheezes followed as crimson bathed the bedsheets.

Melany, ever her loyal subordinate, rushed over to her side and helped to support her. She stared in horror at the blood that bathed her lady’s lips. However, Lady Nymph resisted her aid, she pushed her away with a fleeting and weak hand.

“I’m sorry,” A voice full of weeping met the stunned Melany’s ear, “I’m sorry you have to take care of me...like this.” Melany’s heart sank. Here lay her lady, whom she served, one of the people she admired and respected most, sobbing in self-contempt and agony before her.

She stepped forward, despite her lady’s weak protests, and then reached out her own hand to grip her lady’s struggling palm.

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Melany said as she supported her mistress until, finally, her blood coated coughing ceased to spill, “Nothing at all.” She said the words clearly but there was no way for her to know if they reached her mistress’ ears or not. Sadly she knew that, most likely, they did not sway her mistress either way.

“Melany...I’m scared...I don’t want to die,” She heard her Lady utter those words, even as she wept, and her heart ached for her.

One had to know that Nymph was no less proud than her daughter in the past, to admit her fear of anything, even death itself, was not a feat she could’ve done were she in her right mind.

“No one wants to die,” She replied. How could someone so strong, so noble and so kind be reduced to this? Dying in their bed, half insane. What had she done to deserve this?

She knew in her head that this was the price one had to pay for the powers they were given but in her heart she just could not accept it. Her Lady kept weeping, no one knew if from agony, regret, or fear.

For some reason, she just could not seem to meet her subordinate’s gaze.

“Melany...I’m sorry,” Said the Lady, “I can’t wait to die.” Those words, said with a pained, resigned, voice, were the last that her lady was able to utter. Her sobbing didn’t cease, not until she went to sleep, but Melany’s mind was left blank all the while.

The Comander had sat here many times at her Lady’s bedside and thus she had heard those very words many, many times. She could never prepare herself, however, and the ordeal had long taken its toll on her heart.

She laid her Lady’s tired body flat upon the bed and then called for a doctor. When at last Nymph’s breathing turned even, when at last she was deeply asleep, Melany left the room in a hurry. She walked outside of the door and then leaned her back against it.

The two guards before her were drawn to face her by the sounds but then a moment later they turned their gazes away out of respect. They did that because she too was crying.

________________________________________

The clash of metal on metal ceased. Both Alexander’s blade and Rapture’s sixth trident crumbled into fragments of Ash.

The two boys stared each other down.

Alexander could not help but smile proudly. He exhaled a mighty sigh and then collapsed into a sitting position.

“You are terrifying, has anyone told you that?” He said as he cast one open eye upon the boy before him. Rapture, in response to this, joined him in sitting down.

The gathered crowd of ladies young and old gossiped and flitted their tongues, they’d just witnessed quite a sight, but it was over now.

Alexander felt dissatisfied. His smile faded to a neutral frown and he raised his head to face his fellow man.

Rapture must’ve heard what those girls kept babbling about as they fought each other, even he could not deny that, somewhere in his heart, he was motivated by this reality.

“You know, Rusalka’s groom originally should’ve been you,” Alexander said flatly. Indeed, he had struggled with this truth for some days, but only when Rapture’s level reached close to his own did he feel “threatened” by the boy.

Perhaps, deep down, a desire to bully him had indeed existed inside of Alexander’s heart, but fortunately he was swayed by Rapture’s own earnest desire to learn, to improve his skill with the power he wielded.

With every exchange, Rapture got a little bit better, it wasn’t just some god given talent, he was watching and learning, he was putting to practice what Alexander told him, and in the end Alexander had started to actually enjoy advising him because of it.

“I have become aware,” Rapture said, combing his hand through his black hair.

“And?” Alexander asked, “What do you think of that? Do you resent me? What do you think of her?” Rapture paused in thought for a moment’s time.

The gathered girls were no less curious. There were many reasons, not least of all was that if Rapture didn’t like Ru then they all had a shot. The city’s upper brass had promised many a benefit to the girl who could hook this fish. Naturally, Amelia had been blocking them, and she would continue to block them, but they couldn’t help but hope.

“I have no plans to lay down roots in this city,” Rapture honestly replied. Alexander’s brows raised, he curiously stared at the boy, who made clear his intentions with those few words. “I wish you the best of luck,” Said Rapture, frankly, clearly and even a bit anticlimactically.

The gathered girl’s froze, the drama they felt they were witness to had ended on such a note, furthermore, Rapture had all but spelled out for them that he had no intention at all of wedding any of them.

The younger girls could practically see those “benefits” they’d been promised shattering like fine glass statues.

Amid all of this, the shocked Alexander could do nothing but laugh. His slight bit of worry had truly been a worthless one, far from a rival, Rapture wasn’t even playing the same game. He held out his hand to the boy, welcoming him to shake it in return.

“Hey,” Alexander said as his grip tightened around the boy’s hand, “I managed to gleam a few insights myself during our little exchange, so how about it, same time tomorrow?” Rapture glanced over at Amelia, who indifferently turned away from his gaze. He could not but turn to Alexander and say it was ok.

“Sure,” he said, “I’ll break your sword first try this time.”

“Fat chance,” Alexander replied. Thus, on this day, in admittedly an odd way, it seemed that Rapture had managed to make himself a friend, his very first male friend.

________________________________________

Rusalka scoffed as she witnessed this scene. She couldn’t hear a word from her office that was so far away but she could read their lips sure enough.

Looking at it from a certain angle Alexander had indeed been fighting Rapture over her and yet Rapture didn’t really even care, he wasn’t interested in her.

“So this is how it feels when a piece of luggage gets given from one man to another?” She said with scorn. That said, these words did not truly reflect her true feelings on the matter, it was naught but snark.

One or more men picking a fight over a woman? That wasn’t so uncommon, in fact it could be seen as a testament towards her desirability overall.

Thusly, she was far from insulted, she actually even felt just a little bit smug on the inside. Watching Alex fret just the tiniest bit whenever Rapture’s existence came up had been a fun pastime for her until now.

She smiled somewhat coldly and then returned to her work. The only thing that stung was Rapture's own dissinterest, but her future husband's jealousy was honestly a bit delicious.

__________________________________________

Metatron and his fifty followers, including the commander, eyed up the city walls from afar.

Venus would not fall overnight, it was no mere Sanctuary in the wilderness, after all.

“This time, for sure,” Metatron muttered aloud as he signalled for his fifty followers to take on their guises. Traders and guards they’d massacred on the road, these were the forms that they assumed for themselves. When they infiltrated Venus City proper, they’d change the guises as necessary.

They would find every weakness they could exploit for the sake of a solid victory.