Loud roars of thunder resounded at the wide dark sky. Lightning strikes the trees and the branches and the grass and leaves, creating a wildfire into the forest. The animals that were peacefully resting and sleeping at their homes were forced to evacuate. Their home was decimated from the anger of the Wicked Witch. Soon birds from different directions gawked and flew towards every possible direction. All creatures, may it be the creepy crawlers hiding beneath the rocks and the ground. The birds in the air and the four legged mammals. All of them were trying to get away. Ursula's wrath displayed onto the sky as she was standing in front of the humongous window in the west wing. The last room where she and her sister Luntian had fought hundreds of years ago. She raised her staff as the red diamond cradled by the enchanted metal glowed an ethereal bloody color. The Wicked Witch felt the disappearance of Luther’s soul while was doing her rounds at the Castle. She felt a tug on her heart

One thing is for sure that night. It’s how the silence consumed their surroundings that the quietness is almost more deafening than the loudest blood curdling screams. Luntian was sleeping in the other room. The house that they found had more than two rooms to spare but Accashia had always been comfortable sleeping beside Calleb. The smell of his hair quells her fears, calms her down. Usually, Calleb holds her as they sleep. But this time they lay with their backs facing each other. It’s as if they were physically together but mentally, they were worlds apart. The whispers of cold winds from the open window adjacent to their bed filled the room. It’s the complete opposite of how they were just yesterday. Luntian explained it to her. The moon affects Calleb’s mood greatly. And now that the half-moon is approaching — Calleb was becoming more human. The beast inside him sleeps during the half moon, and yet, the quietness is more deafening than the noise. And the reason why Calleb beca

Luntian stared at the old house with carvings on the signboard. The text on the signage looked awfully familiar. Like an ancient text from hundreds of years ago. It resembled an ancient incantation from the past. Back when the Kingdom of Shaldan was at its peak. When Alpha Banaua, the previous King was still reigning. The old Shaman hummed and then raised her hand to feel the air against her skin. The texture of the wind, the feel of it. For the wind carries the past — the memories of a place. It circles around, carrying legacy, history and generations of mayhem along with the soft breeze. And yet, when she commanded the spirit of the eagle to show her — nothing came out. As if this Village was stuck in a trance. And it made shivers run down her spine. "What kind of spell was placed on this village?” The old shaman asked herself out of curiosity, knowing that this secluded Village couldn’t have existed after the decimation of Shaldan. And yet it did. She was about to ask the Spirit

"This is going to be a long night…" Luntian said to herself as she looked around. She prepared herself for battle. The sun had set and only the moon’s ray illuminated the vast forest. “I know.” Calleb answered as he fought along with Accashia. The young lady was using the sword a bit more efficiently now. Remembering the short amount of training she did with Calleb, Accashia began to focus, watching every movement in front of her. A blast of wind from Luntian’s direction and more Shadows were being destroyed by the second. But with every Shadow that falls, two come forth to take its place. The leaves on the trees shook and the trunk rattled when bones of the Shadows crashed against it. “Tell me the name of your maker… or die.” Calleb warned. The creatures did not answer, only letting out loud snarls and growls. "Then you all die!" He screamed and lashed out at the monster. Another sleepless night for the three of them as the battle continued on. ============ The Dirt hit Accash

“Accashia.” The woman sobbed. “My daughter.” Accashia knows that her mother is dead. A month had passed since then, and yet here she was, sitting in front of her. Alive and breathing. It was such a strange thing. And Accashia knows that this was all a lie. Deceptive. A snake in Eden. An illusion. Lies. And yet, there’s a warmth that fizzles on her heart when she sees her mother, Ember. She knows it’s not true. She knows her mother is dead. She senses it in the wild, wild soul. It’s a trap. The soul was erratic, and it was stained, for it was no longer in a beautiful shade of light blue or white. She thinks of this as nothing more than the most irrational thing. Perhaps it is, this is, most of all, that makes it so painfully easy to suspend belief. The belief that her mother is truly gone, for there she really was. But there are times when Accashia wished that it was not true. Accashia’s lips trembled and the long sword slipped from her fingers. “Mother…” She whispered. “Mama.” Aga