• tab The aura of death was eminent everywhere. Fresh blood dyed the walls scarlet in every room. The broken windows let in the cool night air and some drizzle. Lightning cracked through the sky as thunder echoed through the mountains, and rain flooded down upon the valley. A little girl darted through the rooms, ignoring the chill of the frosty winter night and the pools of blood she often stepped in.
    tab “Mother, Father!” she cried out, tears streaming down her pale face. She cautiously stepped through the wreckage of the beautiful furniture. The extent of the damage so great the smashed wood was barely recognizable as what it once had been. Her olive eyes meticulously swept over her ravaged room, as she carefully noted the claw marks on her walls and realized what kind they were. Demon claws, she thought to herself, furious at the enemies who had done this.
    tab Suddenly a thought struck her, and she hurried to the other side of the room, praying it hadn’t been damaged. She dug through the mess of body parts and smashed furniture, and carefully lifted out a small copper jewel box, which was decorated with gold leaves and vines. She placed gently the box in her lap, and made a signal with her hands. “Akuma no Tora, Demon of the Tiger,” she murmured. The box glowed, and the little girl opened it. She cautiously took out a necklace, with a silver chain and a gold pendant, in the shape of a miniature dagger. She hung the delicate-looking necklace around her neck, brushing her violet hair and the white ribbons out of the way. The crystal pendant shimmered for a moment before the light faded. The girl then took a deep breath, smoothing out her white silk kimono. The necklace was safe, and that was an important factor. She also had to come up with a plan to find any allies. She couldn’t possibly expect to find her parents by running around, crying their names. She’d only attract unwanted attention to herself.
    tab Now calm, she departed from the room and dashed through the hallways, occasionally taking a turn left or right. She was following a special route, one that few people knew of. This course included several concealed tunnels and passages, so well hidden that these ways were clear of any enemies or signs of battle. No had been through here for awhile, this she knew. Even if someone did come through here, it would be difficult to catch her off guard. Despite the darkness of the tunnels, her well-trained eyes could spot any enemy. Her sensitive nose sifted through all the scents in the air, able to tell her if an adversary was nearby. Her quick footsteps made no sound. Swift and silent, she was surely a creature of the night.
    tab Eventually her twisting and turning path brought her in front of the throne room. When she pushed open the heavy doors, her eyes met with a horrific sight. She saw the now familiar blood stained the walls and formed puddles on the white marble floor. Nowhere could she look without seeing a corpse on the ground—broken bones, ripped flesh, and dull glassy eyes staring half-open towards the sky. Sometimes the neck had been torn off. Sometimes there were bones protruding from the shredded tissue. Everywhere, there were destroyed furnishings and pieces of flesh scattered about the room, the image a mirror of the girl’s own room.
    tab The little girl was unfazed by the sight of the carcasses littering the ground. However, she gave an involuntary gasp when she caught glimpse of. A dark figure stood there, his white clothes stained pink with blood. He had sage eyes, and dark auburn hair. On the floor before him lay two bodies that stood out to her in particular; one a man, and the other a woman. Both were dressed in magnificent flowing silk robes, though now they were tattered and blood-spattered. The woman was pale-white, almost as pallid as the young girl. She had claret-colored hair and jade eyes, which were now wide in terror and sadness. The man had, oddly enough, hair the color of amethyst, and lavender eyes. His expression was calm and composed, though his eyes were full of remorse. Both were quite obviously injured past recovery, and were most certainly going to die. However, they were still alive—for the moment.
    tab “How does it feel? To know that you are surely going to depart this life? That your kingdom will be taken over by yours truly?” The figure spoke, his words reverbating through the room.
    tab The woman spoke then, her voice quiet and timid but filled with fear. “Razallone . . . Raz . . . you cannot do this. Will you kill your own kind, your own f—”
    tab The young man, known as Razallone, struck the woman’s face. His face was full of fury. “Do not call me that! I am Lord Raze, Lord Raze, do you hear me!”
    tab “Loud and clear,” the man next to the woman said. “You are Lord Raze. We shall not call you by anything else, for you are not deserving of the name Raz.” He nearly spat the name out, as if it was bitter upon his lips.
    tab Lord Raze glared at each of them in turn, murderous rage clearly written all across his face.
    tab “How will it feel to know that your dear, precious princess daughter will—“
    tab “No!” The woman’s voice rang out desperately. “Please! Do anything you want, but leave our daughter alone...”
    tab The man smirked, knowing he had touched a nerve. “You are even willing to die for her?”
    tab “Yes!” she cried. “Kill us if you want, but leave her alone!”
    tab Raze seemed to consider this for a moment. “No,” he said at last. “I will not comply with these last requests of yours. I deeply apologize, My Queen,” he spoke, bowing mockingly, “My King. Though those titles are meaningless, for the sovereignty will soon pass into my hands.”
    tab “ . . . what does this mean?” the King said finally.
    tab “It means that I will not respect your wishes, any of them. I shall leave you two to die alone, and I shall hunt down your daughter like the caged animal she will become. However, to make sure none of your pestering loyal subjects will not interfere and somehow heal you, I must ensure your deaths.” With that, he raised his bloodied sword, preparing to slit the Royal Monarchs’ throats . . .