The Black Phantom

Prologue

The pattering of the rain woke her

She shifts sideways on her bed, eyes still drowsy from sleep, trying to make out the time on the grandfather clock. It read 4:58 AM, thunder boomed, making her sit up straight and rub the sleep from her eyes, thunder boomed again yet she just stared calmly at the window that shields her room from the damp, cold rain. The girl is no older than ten, belonging to an old family that has existed for generations in the realm of Eocretia. Her room is constructed in Victorian architecture, her closet to the side, built within the walls of her room that's painted in white, she intricately crawled nightstand next to the headboard of her bed, the young lass switched her lamp on in hopes of calming her down from the booming thunder.

The rain stroke harder now, the room's temperature dropped she can feel the cold nipping her bones.

She wrapped the blanket tightly around her body, her teeth began to chatter, her body began to shiver.

And then...

The girl's eyes widen in fear, surprise, and morbid awe. Ice began to spread on her blanket, stiffening, bristling the material before it shattered to pieces, one particular ice shard cuts her cheek, crimson drips from her cheek down to her jaw, her hand smudges the blood off her cheek, the touch stings against her fingers, "Ow!" She hissed as the blood drops on her sheets, staining her covers, irritation, and discomfort fills her, and all of a sudden, ice spreads in the room, freezing it.

She heard multiple footsteps from outside her room, the girl called out: "Father! Mother! Come quick!"

The effect of the ice spreads on her door, she can hear them grunt in the effort as they try to bring it down, seconds later, the door was blasted away, the little girl shrieked and hid to the side of her bed, her dark hair tumbling on her shoulders as her father rushes towards her in his nightwear, the man slowly approaches her his lilac eyes glaring towards the little girl.

"Get up, " He commands, she obeys her father as he grabs her by the bicep, her mother followed afterward, her lilac eyes stared up at his, "Father..."

"Pack your things, "

"Why?"

"We're going to send you off to our homeland." He said and turned away. The girl stands up, her dress swinging with the wind, "But aren't we at our homeland?"

"Your questions shall be answered in Caledonia, for now, we must hurry."

The mother rushed towards the girl and embraced her right, "Hurry, my child, " She said as her blue orbs focused on her arms covered with frost. "We'll visit your grandmother." A chill crawled on the little girl's spine, her eyes widened, "But mother that woman scares me!"

"That woman, " The mother said gently as she tucks her hair back, "Will teach you everything you know about their bloodline, how ice gave them influence, power, everything that has been going on for generations." The girl's hands clutched to her mother's nightgown, "You know about ice with father, can't you teach me instead?"

She chuckled softly as the maidservants gather the girl's things, "I'm no wielder of ice, my child, nor am I someone who can stand the cold." She withdraws from her hold and intertwines her hands with her only daughter. "Now come, your father may have already sent a bird to your grandmother, best if we hurry, she is in no condition to wait."

"Why?" The lilac-eyed colored girl inquires yet again.

"Because the line of ice lives on."

_________________________

Irene's father gripped her jaw, same dark orbs stare right back at her with contempt.

"What is this?" He seethed as he threw away the scroll, "You lost to a mere mortal?"

The dark-raven-haired girl didn't say anything, her father leaned close, "Our family has existed like a tale as old as time, Irene, the house of Thorne will not tolerate such dissatisfaction, such disappointment." He lets go of her jaw, his daughter, only at the age of twelve years looked down at the floor, her father turned his back on her, his dark coat following his movements, a single crow sits on his desk, shelves filled with books, knives, walls painted in red velvet wallpaper, the lamp dimly lits her parent's room, the scroll left forgotten.

"We've mastered perfection, child, " He turns to her with both his hands on his hips, "If you want to be the Head of the family, then prove yourself to everyone, prove to them that you're worthy of our heritage."

"And don't let your emotions get to you, " Her father reminded gravely.

"Logic is everything, emotion is just a decoration, don't dwell on it."

"Understood father, " She replied, her voice set on a monotone. His lips curled to a cruel smile, "Then apply it on the field, that's how I can know that you truly understand me."

He strides outside the door, leaving his only heir alone in his room, the girl glowered on the scroll, her hands balled to fist as her body ran over by cold wrath, black smoke oozed on her hands, on cue the scroll began to decay, turn into ash and dust before dissolving into the air. Dark orbs brewed with hostility, her perfect lips twitch to the same cruel smile, how dare they...

"How dare they..." She grumbled and inhaled slowly, no...throwing a tantrum over it will only embarrass herself, she smoothed her dress and walked towards the shelves of her father, getting one particular book that she had been studying for the last year. Do they dare humiliate her? Then fine...Irene's eyes schemed hungrily through the sea of words.

Fine then...she'll improve, and she will bring them down to their knees, feed them with the same humiliation, and she'll give it to them tenfold. The heiress hummed listlessly before leaving the room, her thoughts governing her actions, she has yet to put her plan into action, after all, isn't that what she wanted?

To feed their demise?

'If you want something,' Her father states as he sits on the velvet sofa, 'It's up to you whether you'll do something about it or not.'

"I'll draw the line of perfection, " She vowed.

"I am perfection"

With that, Irene left the manor, her carriage waiting for her just outside her home, her things were already packed and to be delivered to the academy, Hisiara the place where her father polished his skills as a young boy before moving to the Institute of Arcane, Clalmonia where he applied everything he knew and rose to the top, just like he parents before him.

She boarded the carriage, the silhouette of her mother watched from the second floor, her emerald eyes gaze down, and left the balcony as if the sight before her is uninteresting. Irene exhaled silently before signaling the coach to leave. The dense forest felt ominous as if all of them were watching her departure, the wind cold, the fog thick, yet they didn't get lost, no, the horses were enchanted with her father's seal to see through the fog and ensure the safety of their travel. The heiress' eyes distractedly overlooked the forest, her hand gripping the book, remembering her vow earlier.

'I am perfcetion'