Amelia’s fight dragged on to the morning light. Ash formed pillars of fire stormed into the sky, clashes of weapons formed of Ash sent shockwaves strong enough to lightly shake distant building walls. The intensity had increased by a level since dawn broke, her foes were now thoroughly intent on cutting her down.

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The sounds of destruction echoed like thunder into the bedchamber of every man and woman. Even on the District’s manor’s sixth floor, the furthest possible place from the chaos, walls were shaken by tremors of ungodly might. Melany stirred, it took not long for her to open her eyes and sit up in her bed. Her husband too had naturally stirred, both of them, as if in sync turned their attention towards the window, which was glowing a violent red. Melany peered outside, she looked upon the explosive pillars echoing into the far distant sky.

“What’s going on?” Her husband, Rudolph, said as he sat up. He was slower to react, true, but the Ash coating his body had long been stirring, it had long taken a combat ready stance.

“I don’t know.” Melany replied as she glared into the light of dawn. Those explosions resounded not just here in the Gold District, but all across the city. Her flesh churned and twisted, forming clothes to cover her naked form. Starting from her legs and moving to her abdomen, chest, shoulders and then her arms, her flesh eventually all settled and took on the form of her usual garment. Even her hair moved as though it had a mind of its own and tied itself into a bun. After that her Ash came screaming forward, forming a solid silver aura thicker than steel, yet more transparent than glass. She turned her head to find her husband sitting naked on the bed with a lazy posture. His frowning face stared absently towards the wall in front of him. She spoke to him with a somewhat thorny tone. “Let’s get moving.” The man nodded, his flesh too soon began to warp and form clothing. The aura of Ash around him was tinged with a hint of black, yet was mostly grey. Furthermore, unlike that of his wife, his Ash was wild, untamed, and filling half the room at this moment. The cause of this difference lay not with their skill, wherein Melany was indeed the greater, but with something else.

“I sense my sister out there.” Anger surged up from the depths of Rudolph’s being. His sister was in danger. Whoever, whatever, was attacking her had made a grievous error, he would let not one of them leave this city alive.

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Rusalka too was woken by the chaos. She turned her head to face the scene of crimson light burning in through her bedroom window. The fight raging on outside had now left a blinding wall of fire across the Silver District in full, and yet still the sounds and explosions reached her even from beyond. She had a look of unease as her fiance, fully dressed and equipped for battle, hastily opened her bedroom door. He found her in her nightgown, freshly woken from her slumber, and tossed her a garment to cover herself with.

“Hurry and get dressed!” He said sternly as he turned around to stand guard at the door. Rusalka didn’t think on it much, she readily complied with the words of her partner. The Lady of Venus put on her garment swiftly, her hair was left a mess, more so than she had ever let another witness, but that was fine, at least under their current circumstances.

“What’s going on out there?” She asked her man, whose senses could span half a city.

“No idea,” He answered back, “I sensed a few powerful presences moving about, didn’t think much on it since Amelia is always dealing with suspicious people at night, but then...utter chaos just erupted faster than I could process it all.” Rusalka stopped to think for a moment. Indeed, when last she saw him this husband of her’s had been sharing her bed this night, for the first ever time. She was exhausted from the matter of Lucretia’s visit and so nothing intimate had transpired, she had simply slept in his embrace. Yet here he stood, mere moments after she woke up, in a full suit of solid armour. She had clearly slept through him leaving her side.

“What’s going on out there? How much do you know?” She asked him.

“From what I gather our attackers are not numerous...but they all seem to bear Ash on the same level as Rapture, your mentors, Lucretia and her guards.” Rusalka stopped again, this time with her left leg half way stuffed into a pitch black legging.

“Platinums?” She uttered in disbelief. How can that be? She asked herself. However, it did not take long for a thought to occur to her. She too knew of Cain and their knights, she too knew of Beatrix’ sworn enemies. Her masters and her had naturally been conscious of this danger for some time, yet not one of them imagined a situation like this would spring up in the night.

“Yes,” Alexander replied. He could barely believe it himself but his sensory capabilities were most definitely not telling him wrong. He could practically see the enemy with his own eyes as Amelia fought them not too far away. He turned his head as Rusalka clapped her boots milky white heel against the chamber floor. She was now ready and dressed in the formal clothes of the City Matriarch. Naturally, this was not a dress designed for the wears of war, but she, sad to say, had never seen the need to keep such a thing here in her room. She turned to face her husband with hands on her hips and then advanced upon him with graceful yet urgent steps.

“Can I rely on you protect me?” She said, pressing her pointed finger close to his heart as she stepped into the doorframe and smiled provocatively into his eyes. Alexander stared back at her, his fingers caressed her forehead and pushed her hair over behind her ear. She closed her eyes in comfort for a brief moment before pressing her hand to his armoured chest and shoving it away. Though her tone remained playful, her gaze soon turned cautious, she faced her life partner and spoke to him in a tone of slight concern. “Do be careful, won’t you?” She said to him. The man responded with a warm smile. This woman did not necessarily need his protection, but asked for it all the same. There was a certain aesthetic appeal to a lord and or lady who needn’t lift a finger themselves to have their battles won. She worried not for herself, she who could stand aside, but for him, he who would face the threat up front.

“Of course, I’ll be careful,” He said with a shrug, “I’d be pretty sad to have to make you a widow so soon after marriage.” Rusalka shook her head and then smiled back at him, she raised her hand and bonked his forehead once with the back of her main two fingers as she passed him by. To them, of course, there was danger outside that needed to be dealt with, their playfulness masked very real dread, very real feelings of fear. They soon turned to the chamber door with serious faces. With not one more moment’s delay, they left the safety of her bedchamber that day. “Come what may.”