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Elisia returned. Everything was exactly how she'd left it. The cloaked figure stood in front, her soldiers still surrounded her, pikes still glimmered in the afternoon sun.

"Good." The figure breathed.

"Hmm?" Elisia furrowed her brows.

"The sword - a successful transition. Usually it's not so...painless."

"I think we'll get along fine." Elisia smiled.

"I'm happy to hear that. Now go."

"Go?" Elisia responded, cocking her head to the side slightly.

"You wanted to try the sword out, see if it works."

Her head turned slightly to glance at the sword in her hand.

"Ah! Of course." Her eyes gazed back up and around. "Any volunteers?" Her mouth said with a forced kindness. Although the guards were the perfect image of military discipline, after seeing what the sword could do, there was no shortage of volunteers.

"Pick me ma'am."

"No choose me your grace."

"I have a mole on my back."

"I'm blind in an eye!"

"All of you shut up!" A voice roared, quelling the other protests. "Let the captain go up." Her head swiveled around.

In the midst of the negotiation, the captain had scampered off. Now he lay outside the ring - she approached. He rested on the ground; unmoving. A woman and a boy were huddled around him. They weren't soldiers...must've been commoners who saw the bout from the wagons. Before it looked like he hadn't taken any serious hits, it appeared like he'd collapsed from fatigue. Now Elisia saw he was seriously wounded.

"It's bleeding Ma." The boy said, lifting blood-drenched hands to prove the point. He was eight summers old at most.

"What did I tell you." She forced his hands back on a nasty cut at the base of his belly. "Keep your hands on it."

"It ain't stopping Ma...It ain't stopping."

They were so absorbed, they hadn't noticed Elisia's presence.

"I know it ain't." A roll of white stretched and she bit at the end. "Where the hell's your brother? If we don't stop the bleeding soon..."

"Could I give it a try?" Elisia said. They both propped up, the woman instantly bent her head.

"Of course...Duchess."

Elisia smiled - the boy smiled back, his mouth opening in recognition, till a hand snapped forth and bent his head for him.

"Ow - Ma, that hurts."

Her hand moved, the sword glinting as the edge hovered just over the boys knuckles. Unsure what to do, he kept his hands firm over the cut. Blood dribbled through the spaces in between his fingers.

"Reparo." Elisia breathed.

Grey glowed a familiar gentle blue. The boy shot back in surprise, eyes widened when sparks fizzled through his fingers. He snatched his hands back, and even the weary eyed mother was taken aback.

Low and behold. Even through the mess of coagulated blood the wound had, with a shower of sparks, seemingly sealed on its own.

A devilish glint appeared in Elisia's eye, a wry smile cracked at her lips. She whirled to meet the figure.

"Works like a charm, I'll take it."

"Perfect, it is yours." The cloaked figure purred. "Hurry now, I must seal it in your name." Elisia swayed over.

Now back in the ring face-to-face with Elisia, the figure asked for the sword. Almost ceremoniously Elisia presented it. A withered hand ran along the length of the blade. It appeared paler and thinner than last she saw it. Harsh words of some strange language were spoken - all unintelligible except her own name and the basilisk.

"It is done." Said the old lady, before bursting into a bad fit of coughing.

"Splendid."

"There is not much time left." She said breathlessly. "I must - my part - of the bargain."

A withered hand rose slowly up, and shaking slightly it dragged the hood off - leaving her face bare. A collective gasp rippled amongst the soldiers. Even Elisia was taken aback. It was afterall a rather shocking face.

At first glance, her theory was correct. The figure was in fact, an old woman. Her face was a pasty white, bags drooped under her sickly eyes, frail skin sagged in clumps by her neck and faded wisps of hair drizzled down her face. Some would say that that alone would be shocking enough. Elisia certainly, the sight of wrinkled skin and an aged face made her want to run in fear of it being contagious. However that wasn't the shocking part. It was the other half of her face.

The real surprise were the green scales that ran across her cheek, the blue feathers that stretched out past the edge of her jaw and the orange eye with a black slit. It looked down - as if ashamed.

"Now you see me -" a heavy breath "for what I-" another long pant "truly am." She spoke like the words pained her. "I've lived long Duchess, an eternity on this earth." Her face looked like it was changing - withering almost, the skin tightening the muscle evaporating as if a leech was sucking the old lady dry. "I'm dying you see, without the sword's strength - I'm not long for this world." Dragging feet stumbled forward, remorseful eyes looked up only a breath away. "You will do perfect."

"Perfect?" Elisia replied - confused.

"Aye - your face."

"Ah."

"Untouched, unmarred. You'll do just fine." The old lady mouthed, the tip of a wet tongue running along her thin bottom lip. "Your beauty-" A boney finger slowly traced the edge of Elisias cheeks. The troops expected her to writhe under the touch. Elisia merely smiled. "I was once like you, a long time ago. A young girl, ripe with life and beautiful beyond compare. There was a small village and him of course." Her voice trailed off. Eyes rolled over in nostalgia - glancing somewhere distant and long gone. The eyelids kept closing in, and suddenly retreating. Elisia watched the orange eye with mild interest. They snapped back to reality. "My last wish before I died - to feel pretty, just one last time." The finger paused by Elisia's lips. "Looks that could kill." She said, almost as an afterthought. Elisia's smile stretched, wider and wider.

"A poor choice of words."

A loud cry.

The old woman's eyes bulged and the tendons in her neck strained. Blood splattered over the Duchesses black gown as the woman wheezed and gagged. She snatched her hand back and could only look down in disbelief at the steel running through her gut. A soft chuckling was heard, that turned into a maniacal laugh.

"You didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you?"

"I don't understand." The old woman looked up, her lip quivering. "We had a deal."

"I made you a promise, all those years ago. Do you remember it?" She leaned over, lips against her ear. "Breanne."

The old woman's head twisted - her green scales flaking gently to the floor.

"Impossible." She stuttered.

"Not quite." Elisia smiled, her hazlenut eyes washing into a bloodshot red that spread beyond the pupils and covered even the whites of her eyes.

"You?"

Elisia's voice changed suddenly.

"Who else?"

The old lady threw back her head and let out another ghastly scream tore through the air. All Breanne could do was double over in pain. Deeper, the blade pushed, till it was hilt-deep. Another wave of blood fell upon the Elisia, who merely pawed it off with her free hand. A thin streak of red ran down Breannes lip.

"That idiotic girl, what has she done."

"Given me a great gift. Oh you don't know how nice it is to be out of that-" Elisia spat. "stuffy prison. I never thought I'd breathe the air or see the sky again - let alone you."

Breanne gagged, making as if to hurl, but nothing came. Elisia looked off in the distance.

"I could never get my hands on that Chelier...but you? On a silver platter. All I had to do was pick up the knife." Elisia sighed. "In the end, I suppose I should thank you." The old woman agonized; Elisia didn't seem to mind. "This new master you've pawned me off on, this girl. Brimming with potential. Granted, all I had to do-" Elisia paused as she saw Breanne shifting towards her, wincing with every step.

"What are you doing?"

"Finishing this."

Elisia raised a brow, and peered down at the hunched figure.

"You can barely stand. Let alone-"

With her jaw clenched, the old hag moved persistently towards the Duchess. Sliding across the sword. Muttering to herself. The colour had all but drained from her face, her frame had thinned, her difficult breaths rattled.

Using her last ebbs of strength, the crone clutched the gown of the Duchess. A fire, waning but still alight in her eyes.

"Any last words?" A smug Elisia said.

The old hag dismissed her with a wave.

"You talk too much."

Like a rabid dog, the old woman convulsed, her mouth suddenly moved violently, teeth gnashing, tendons stretching and bones cracking. Reddened teeth opened wide - impossibly wide. Now detached; her bottom jaw hung limp. It was like the maw of a feral beast. Elisia took a step back, the red eyes widening.

"You - can't be serious." She stammered.

Breanne didn't respond, only staring with wet eyes. A soft whimper escaped her as white smoke bubbled in her mouth, coiling within. Frantically, Elisia tried to wretch the sword away, jostling the old woman with each attempt, but it was stuck stubbornly.

"Damn you." She gave it another hard tug. "Common you bastard." The old woman chuckled painfully at the sight. Tendrils of smoke tentatively climbed out of her mouth, like a thousand small fingers - very - slowly - clambering out of her.

Letting out a cry of frustration, Elisia acted fast, she raised her slipper to the old woman's shoulder and keeping a fearful eye on the smoke, tugged at the sword with all her strength, while keeping her back with her foot. With a wet squelch, it finally gave. The cloaked figure, staggered back - never breaking her gaze, until she fell to the floor with a soft thump. Pikes bent, some prodded and bear-heads peered at the still body. Was she dead?

Spurred on by some fear unknown, Elisia frantically muttered to herself, tracing signs in the air with her fingers. Always watching the smoke, now frothing over.

That's when it happened. A banshee screech erupted from her as ribbons of smoke rushed out of her like ghouls - shooting up into the sky. The guards stumbled back - watching as they collected in the air and hung like a cloud. Then - all at once - it rained down.

An almost invisible iridescent dome lit up at the last moment, covering Elisia and forcing the smoke to roll off harmlessly. All she could see was white smoke, as if she was in the middle of a cloud. Loudly though, she could hear many gagging and gasping outside. Moments later - there was absolute silence. It was only when the fog cleared, did Elisia's sword clatter against the ground - the red in her eyes vanished, replaced by the normal brown and she fell to the floor with a soft thump.