As the Vampire Realm prepares for battle against a mysterious enemy, the city's captiol is thrown into mayhem once the lost Princess returns to reclaim her throne. There's just one small problem, the Princess is human.
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"Conjure it for me." The Empress commanded.
The Shaman had been taken to an empty room, The Empress had named, her sanctuary of solitude. All she ever did in here was pace endlessly in her paranoia, for hours at a time.
The room was large, and devoid of furniture. The only sight to see, was of the scenery the six adjacent windows provided. They spanned from floor to ceiling, allowed the otherworldly glow of blue to flood the barren room. The Empress, had enchanted the windows to reflect the Milky Way.
A belt of asteroids roved by slowly, their departure allowed stars to gleam in vibrant shades of purple and green. A bright circular orb of blue energy gleamed in the centre of the Milky Way, smoky and transcendent. If you stared out of the window long enough, you'd be under the illusion that the room was moving, slowly but surely.
"I cannot. I cannot create the vision of your future as I did last year." The Shaman replied, as he watched The Empress. She was leaning against the corner of a wall, with her her back to him, staring out the window.
"Why can you not?" She questioned, as her eyes found a familiar star. She had named it a decade ago, but, it felt more like a lifetime. Silently, her lips mouthed the name, Amia. Something forgotten throbbed in her chest, before it was expelled by the all to familiar feeling of desolation.
The Empress turned from the window, and looked at the Shaman. He had sat down in the middle of the room. His short legs crossed underneath him.
He was dressed in ordinary cotton clothes. She had always wondered why such a powerful creature would dress in such cheap cloth. He was nearly balding, but his white beard remained thick and vast. The Empress was sure the man hadn't had a decent meal in months, and he probably didn't have a bed to rest on either. He could afford all these luxuries, so why did he opt to live like a nomadic beggar?
"It seems that the Fates, are continuously re-writing your future. If we were to look at it now, all we would see is a fog of smoke, nothing more."
"So, there's hope after all?" The Empress asked. She had not changed from her blood ridden armour. Her horned headpiece looked ominous in the lowlight of the room. But, the Shaman was not afraid of her.
While he did not fear her, he did choose his next words carefully. Well, he tried his best. "No," his voice trailed off, "From what I've been allowed to see, you die in all of the futures. It's the events leading up to your Death that are riddled in obscurity."
"Marvellous," she quipped sarcastically. "Killed by the warrior girl, I presume. How is this possible? I thought I got rid of her after I made the expedition to St Mary's Island. I buried her in the labyrinth with my own hands, I made sure she would never awaken."
