Chapter 1;

20 years later.

Creatures unknown skirted around the courtyard, some on all fours, others on two. All lanky and black in the night. Some raised their "hands" to the sky; revealing the long foot-long nails that most had. Some wore antlers; Wendigos some called them. The ones who had those claws so long in length were simply called Demons.

By a pane-less window, sitting on the very edge with gravity threatening to pull her over- sat the Princess of the region. Her hair was unruly with frizz and split ends, the shade being that of an off red-orange that was deep, stuck out from her head covering. Almost black. Her gold eyes scanned the landscape with her cross bow in hand. A booted foot was propped on the sill as well as her bottom, the 2 inch heel pressing into the wall to keep her aim steady. She wore a black one piece body suit, with a matching black coat that stopped mid-waist. And of course, she had to keep her identity safe as her father demanded- so along with her coat's hood up, her head was wrapped in a black scarf in a way where her hair peeked out and draped over to her lower back, and there was a gap for her golden hued eyes to see through. Only her hands and that small portion of her face could be seen. The rest might as well have been painted black.

"You'll miss." A low voice called from a dark corner of the room. The woman's shoulders tensed before slowly pivoting on her tail bone, eying the shadowed figure.
"You underestimate my skills." Her voice was low as well, but with much more bite to it. She didn't like to be treated like the delicate princess everyone though she was. Especially not this man.

He came into the moonlight's rays, letting the light reveal his features. His built up form from years of working was the first give away to her as to who he was, his all black suit with a red collared shirt peaking out at the top was a bit fancy for his day wear. His cerulean eyes shone silver in the moon's spotlight, almost capturing her within them. His wild chestnut hair was short, but not shaven. Enough to where you could tell when he had bed head, but not enough to where it hung directly in his eyes. He was leaning on something, she realized, as his body was on an angle; putting his weight on the object. Her eyes drew down to see a black blade katana. The hilt was made of with dragon scales in a metallic black. Tugging her headscarf off, now revealing the pale face of herself, she sighed heavily- waiting for him to speak.
"Misteria." He said her name with a power she couldn't comprehend. Narrowing her eyes, she rose from her perch and took a half-step forward.
"What do you want, August Mortimer?" Her demand used every ounce of given royalty she had. Using his full name, she managed to stun the man for a short while before he began to chuckle softly.
"Off day, Misteria?"
"It was well until you crawled from the dark."
"What a harsh manner to show to your entitled."
"I never asked for a husband."
With that, they both settled into some mental combat. Staring deeply in the other's eyes- waiting for one to relent. Neither did.
"How about we stop this foolish game?"
"What did you come for?" Misteria countered almost immediately.
"This."
With a swift motion, the black blade was tossed to her by the blade, enabling her to catch it by its hilt. The young woman examined it carefully. Not for a trap, but only to admire the craftsmanship.
"It's gorgeous." Her gold hues flitted for a moment to the man opposing. "Which Smith designed it?"
"None."
She quirked a brow toward him which only got August to smile widely.
"I made it for you."
At the statement, her eyes widened- which seemed to have been an invitation for the male to "make himself at home." Which it wasn't. As he slipped off his black jacket to reveal a half buttoned up blood red silk shirt, Misteria had to tell herself to keep her eyes on the blade. August kept his combat boots on, and as always, his two curved twin swords were at his side, hanging off a gold chain that was hooked to his black pants. What Misteria was trying to avoid, and trust it wasn't the muscles she wanted to admire, but the large and prominent scar that was always held on show it seemed. He always had the tops of his shirts unbuttoned to reveal the obvious scar that seemed blinding against the sun-kissed skin of August. The unknown whereabouts and how is what captivated Misteria. He refused to give any information. Even to what weapon had made the lotus-flower-like scar.

But of course, he caught her glances.
"Is it really so enticing, Missy?" He sighed heavily.
There was an audible click as her teeth snapped together. "Don't call me that."
"Answer my question."
"I refuse."
He only shrugged in turn.

Misteria sat back on her perch, her cross bow now lay against the wall nearest her- forgotten. She now just sat in the window, admiring the sword.
"I didn't realize you were a talented blacksmith."
"I'm not. Just swords."
She glanced at him, seeing that ever-present sadness grow a bit worse in those eyes of his.
"Your father." It wasn't a question.
August only confirmed with a curt nod.
"Ah."
Silence.

August abruptly sat up from his chair, seemingly making a decision. Grabbing his jacket, he stomped out of the room. For a split second, she was concerned. She wanted to follow after. But instead, she stayed in her window sill, staring at a closed door, the echo of footsteps growing softer until they stopped completely.