The Beginning of the End.

The dark-haired boy raced down the abandoned stone pathway, kicking off dust in his flashy wake.

His heavy panting echoed all around him. Creating an unbelievable scenario where the trees and winds pause in their harmony to bear witness to his supernatural speed.

His palm closed tightly around the clammy metal hilt. Even in the dim midnight, one could clearly see the cursive runes engraved around it, its meaning long lost to mortals. 

Even though it no longer housed the magnificent blade it once held, the glowing remains of the metal still stuck around the hilt.

Alongside its swirling malevolent aura, all these bore a fascinating testimony to the ethereal and likewise, lethal nature of the sword.

This only held a significant hint of it's usefulness.

And it's danger too. Surely, not to be abandoned to the enemy, at whatever cost there inevitably had to be.

The fleeing youth muttered desperately, almost insanely, in a sort of last resort.

His expression contorted, disseminating the reasoning that he doubted the success of his attempt, even before doing it.

Dull green aura began to swirl around him as he accelerated through the shadowy woods.

His sleek long black hair, long enough for anyone to mistake him for an enchanting goddess, blew up around him in a bright burst of power.

Unruly tendrils stuck to his sweaty face, leaving the once sleek hair disheveled.

Just behind him, four riders appeared out of the shadows, their swords flashing in the bleak moonlight with unhidden bloodlust.

Without the slightest hint of fear, all their actions screaming victory, they urged their horses towards the dashing youth.

The boy was still incredibly fast. He moved with so much velocity, to be able to outrun war-bred horses.

While still dodging tree branches and ducking a steady barrage of arrows.

Indeed, he acted like a teenage prodigy.

Untrained sufficiently for now, but surely capable of devastation in posterity.

The pursuers had a factor to their advantage. They owned the domain and were familiar with the terrains.

But the teen prodigy wasn't giving up so easily.

He flung his ruined hilt far behind him, as a really desperate diversion.

A very poor one, since most soldiers could see through petty tricks like that.

But this wasn't any ordinary child...

So they had to tread carefully, or risk taking huge casualties in their own territory.

But at least, they correctly guessed his intentions.

Infact, he merely hoped at least to escape with his life intact, discounting all the injuries criss crossing his fair skin. 

That's what most warlord sages would do in his stead.

He only needed a few seconds. And they gave it to him alright.

While his pursuers hesitated to see whatever hidden aces he bore, he acted.

No time to linger any longer...

He drove his right hand in a wide circle, muttering indistinctly.

Finally, he had played his trump card. And if it failed…

Well, that will be a straight ticket to the popular "Circles", rumoured to be home to all perished ancestors.

Green light glowed brightly in the darkness, with a strong emission of mist out of thin air. Obliterating their parry from their view.

A radial portal spread out of the mist, widening alarmingly to block out the pursuers.

And then the horsemen stopped, genuinely puzzled.

They knew a lot about Incarnaian abilities and about magic too.

This was new to them.

Except...

The rider who wore a straw hat. She seemed to recognize it immediately, and a smile lifted her lips...

Gracing her stern features, made visible as she lifted off the straw hat.

She held out a hand, signaling the others to wait...

'Show me what you're made of, Prince.'

..!

The teen prodigy didn't care about the others, but that mysterious strawhat rider always gave him the chills.

He could tell from her soul energy that she was a witch... And a very powerful one at that.

But she seemed to be playing a game with him now.

And he really had no choice, but to play along. Except that, there was a move she didn't anticipate.

A slim chance.

And he took it!

Her victorious face fell as the boy turned away and sprinted off.

She rode to the front, coming out from under the tree's shade.

Exposing her shiny grey hair, reflecting off the color of the serene full moon.

In that split moment, the teen prodigy took a backward glance. Catching a full glimpse of her face.

One that wouldn't fade in his memory until he'd exacted his revenge.

The witch rider chanted a strange incantation, her voice resonating with so much power and magic.

As she spoke, a glint of silver dust slowly spread around the portal, thinning it.

It darkened, but did not close.

'He's more formidable than I thought... forcing me to use witchcraft...'

'...'

She whirled her hands in what closely resembled a set of wide random but interlocking circles and hexagonals.

Creating an invisible force field that pushed the green portal and began to dissipate it slowly.

Thin sliver of light glowed around her hands, then stretching out to subdue the still widening portal.

She then added a little effort but something strange happened.

The portal continued widening, but the Sorceress didn't look perturbed, for some reason.

She just scrunched up her eyes in determined effort, as though she had a rethink.

But what happened next, completely scared her.

The spell spiralled out of her control and sort of exploded, almost incinerating off her nearby colleagues.

Save not for a shield already in place, that had only just activated.

Rest assured, she wasn't the one who put it there.

And she knew no one else in her party did.

'Sorry, everyone,' she bent low to retrieve her sheath that had fallen off her panicking horse.

'What exactly are you playing at, boy?'

She muttered an apology, working quickly to contain the greater effects of the spell.

Soon enough, the portal vanished in a great cloud of smoke and eerie resounding crackling sound.

She did have an idea of what was going on. But she couldn't explain the bluff either.

Meanwhile, her idea was still only a suspicion.

'Get him!,' another horseman snarled; everyone seemed to have forgotten their quarry.

The others behind them increased their velocities and hurried ahead into the cornering path. 

The witch could seem their hesitation though. After what they've seen of his abilities, it'd be suicide to continue giving chase.

Sure enough, they met an empty path the wind whistling with a theatrical flair.

As though to reassure them of the fact that nobody was there.

The boy was no longer in sight. He had escaped.

Fury mingled with relief first tore at their hearts, then rapidly replaced by something else.

An emotion that made dread pool at the bottom of their stomach, when they realized the possible consequences of their failure.

But no one dared to say it out loud. Not yet.

The witch hurried along, presumably to make sure of his escape through her witchcraft.

 She muttered a spell, stretching out her index. A thin trailing glow of silver escaped it and snaked down the path.

The others waited for her feedback as they all watched the spell twist away and fade into the distance.

She stared into the distance intently, before shaking her head.

'He's gone', she said, shaking her silvery hair out of her eyes.

'That's strange, he managed to clearly extinguish all traces of his essence', the horseman who had been by her right noted pulling off his hood too.

'As though he was never here. It's a bizarre ability, but not unheard of.'

'We have to alert the other hunting groups before they go on searching futilely. We are not geared up for a clash with those wretched Incarnas.'

'I'm on it', a horseman said, hurrying away at once. They could still hear his horse neighing noisily as the messenger rode away.

'He would have used mental transmission',the witch grumbled in a low voice. 'Or he would have just asked me to do it.'

'At least Savart will be pleased.' The first horseman, who seemed like the commander, spoke again.

His tone though, sounded suspiciously like he didn't even believe his own words. 'We did manage to chase him away–'

'We both know that's untrue. Actually the opposite...'

The witch chuckld, a low sound of delight and daring intertwined.

She now stared down at the wide path where the boy vanished from. She could tell that he didn't run to the Sheath.

So what did he do then?

'How are we going to explain to him that you failed to catch a boy of – perhaps sixteen–' another rider began uncertainly.

'The boy's quick-witted for his age, and he has a high battle IQ and perception', the commander said dismissively.

'He's a member of the legendary Szen Incarnas bloodline – that portal proved that – and he must not be toyed with.' the witch added, before realizing everyone watching her strangely.

'Most of you won't understand, so just don't ask any questions and let it pass.'

Her authority was powerful. Absolute. No one dared utter a word, though some still glared at her, sulking in the shadows of trees.

'He's the Incarnian greatest investment', the soldier left behind, cut in. 'And he's still using incognito powers– '

'You don't know how trained he is, Nuell, so it'd better to avoid presumptions', the witch advised.

Everyone there knew that if the Prince was as strong as he was hyped, then they really stood no chance against his powers.

But then he'd used magic, instead of his supposed dark powers.

Which ignited several questions and opened new possibilities to the Cruceni.

'I'm going back to the castle', she continued, 'you guys should better stay back and plan on what to tell Savart, because he's not going to take that pitiable excuse for an answer.'

'We'll better get going', the commander said. 'I know what to tell the king.'

The witch rode away immediately, chatting away with the other soldier.

The commander watched the duo suspiciously as they rode away.

Then he sighed.

'She's obviously hiding something, but since I can't find out what it is, there's really no need to worry.'

He had seen her look of disbelief when her spell had almost backfired. She didn't expect it either, which aroused his suspicions.

The other soldiers didn't realize that, but as a war general, he had almost superlative perception, so it hadn't escaped past his notice.

Meanwhile, he had more pressing issues to deal with, so he put that out of his mind.

The disappointment of the Prince's escape hung heavy in his heart. But he still felt a tinge of fear. 

The Sorceress was more powerful than him by very wide margins, and he had seen a flash of fear on her face during the pursuit.

As much as he wanted not to believe it, he was a man of the battlefield and couldn't mistake Fear, of all the emotions ever known.

'Simma?', a voice called from the darkness, and he startled, his hand flying to his hilt before he recognized it.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one reminiscing in the dark.

But his reaction shocked him. For him to have zoned out to the extent of not recognizing in a heartbeat...

'Are you going to stay there and think all night? Your steed is whining, don't you think?'

With a heavy heart, the commander called Simma kicked the flanks of his horse and he trotted to meet the waiting Sorceress.

He'd figure all the arcane happenings of this night, but...

He'd to figure a way to see the dawn alive.

The feeling hung heavy in his heart, that somehow this would be the last full moon he'd see.

'Simma?'

He shrugged it off, and met a passsive looking comrade.

Together, they melted into the darkness.