Calleb growled, there's an unexplainable ache in his heart and he wonders why he is remembering his mother’s face right now. "Don’t play with me..." “And why would I play games with you, hm, Calleb Shaldan?” The Wicked Witch raised one eyebrow in mock surprise. “I’d never play around with royal blood. After all… I was one of the anointed ones to serve you.” Ursula let out a loud cackle and it made Calleb grit his teeth in sheer frustration, obviously the witch was playing with them. And he did not like it one bit. She flicked a quick glance at Luntian, which surprised the Shaman after seeing how much Ursula had changed. “And you… my dear sister, Luntian. I’ve heard that you’ve been taking care of the young Prince ever since the day his parents died. Then… Why didn’t you tell him about me? About why his parents died. How many years have passed since that day? Hm? 600 years or more, perhaps?” “What is that twisted woman talking about, huh, Luntian.” Calleb growled through gritted teet

“Are you prepared to see your mother, hm, Calleb Shaldan.” Ursula told Calleb quietly, greeting the young prince with a cordial smile. Both Calleb and Accashia stood some distance away from the door of the castle where the Wicked Witch stood. Calleb’s eyes were burning with anger, and he was staring at Ursula with such killing intent that Accashia felt it on his soul. Calleb’s soul, which was a beautiful kaleidoscope color changed, and was laced with something dark. His anger was taking over him slowly. Accashia could hear from the distance how loud Calleb’s growl was. The young man cracked his knuckles and the sounds were loud and soft and shocking at the same time. “You’re going to pay for what you’ve done!” Calleb screamed aloud. And his voice reverberated around the center of the forest. Tears fell from his eyes, and in a swift motion he wiped off the tears away and his face contorted to something dark. Almost menacing. “I’m going to kill you!” “Yes,yes,yes… I’ve killed the poo

Accashia knew she had to do something but what could she do? The young lady glanced around fitfully, looking for something – anything – that could help. “Mother — no!” Accashia screamed — a cold voice ringing on Calleb’s ears — seemingly scraping and piercing against his eardrums painfully when the blade pierced Ember’s soul and released her from the spell. But when she was released from the spell — her soul disappeared as well.. Accashia placed her finger against her mouth — trying to hush the raging anger and regret inside of her. “Mama!” The young lady cried out loud. “Mama, I’m sorry — I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” Calleb watched as Ember’s soul disappeared into nothing. The bones that had protected and shelled the soul had already fallen on the ground. A part of him thought that it would all be over; that Accashia had successfully aimed the blade towards the Wicked Witch’s heart. Never did he imagine that the witch would stoop so low to shield herself with such a fragile soul.

The rain stopped and soon the beast could pick up trails of different types of scents. The beast was walking on all fours against the muddy ground, sniffing and making sense of the nearest scent he could pick up. He picked up something familiar... a scent that is similar to a flower and the wolf's eyes glimmered and glowed against the darkness. It's the scent of his late mate, Galathea. He rushed and followed the trails and remnants of the scent, feeling a different sense of urgency when the scent of his destiny mixed with a blood that was foreign, diluted and was contaminated with blood that smells pungent. And then there was a scent that was familiar. The scent is familiar to his father. He smelled of the morning dew and the forest after the rain stopped pouring and had settled. He smelled of Earth and faint flowers, like Sandalwood. The beast of black and white howled when he felt an invisible force dragging him somewhere. Back into the darkness, back into the cage. He tried to

It was a cold and dry morning at the Valley of Karoonah. Some folks were up, while some were still resting in their Cabina. However, for the powerful Sorceress, the morning began in a rather grim and odd manner. For her dream was so dark, that she fell off her bed and her body shivered. She dreamt that her only friend died in a tragic death, slit by the throat and was flung to the air — and was crying as she took her final breath. ‘Luntian.’ She heard the name of the black Shaman, recoiling and repeating in her mind in a rhythm. After doing her morning ritual, Mayari Tabbu immediately went to the room where she does her magic. The Sorceress grabbed the bowl full of powdered minerals, an ash-like substance infused with zirconium, potassium nitrate and charcoal. She grabbed a handful of the black ash, slightly opening the palm of her hand. Mayari Tabbu lets the ashes fall on the ground as she turns, creating a perfect circle in the floor. As she felt the ashes against the palm of her