Silence reigned this night, bringing all sound under its liege as the royal kingdom slept soundly. A single knight clad in silver and white stood guard outside a large set of wood and iron doors, kept under the spell of this enchanting silvery eve in his vigil. But that silence was quickly broken with the sound of metal clattering again stone echoing like a clap of thunder throughout the quiet corridors. The man grew tense, his fingers hovering over the hilt of his blade as the heart inside his chest pounded.
The other knights posted were absent, as if they hadn't heard the disturbance and, slowly, he wondered if the sound lived within his head. The air that surrounded him grew thick, heavy, laden with a certain power that he had learned to fear and before he could prepare himself to draw his sword toward the shadow that slipped from around the corner, he fell to the ground.
A smirk crossed over scarlet lips as the shade had moved like liquid along the darkened walls and slipped between those very doors the unfortunate soul had been guarding.
A single candle illuminated the room, flickering gently beside a large canopied bed. Among the furs and down was a single form, small and steadily breathing. The dark shape slowly crept, quelling the small flame.
"Mother?" a voice called out, soft and sweet, and trembling.
The one who moved like a shadow had free reign over the darkened room and paced closer toward the golden haired maiden, the sinister curl of her lips growing when she found her movements had tensed the wary girl.
She was smart to be afraid.
"Show yourself," she demanded, though there was fright attached to her voice.
The shadow of a woman drew closer to the bed, preparing her next move and flexing her burning fingers.
"What do you want?" She sounded desperate, on the edge of hysteria. "D-Do you know who I am? The castle is heavily guarded."
Laughter was belted from the woman shrouded in darkness, rumbling off the stone structures. The guards had been cut down before they had knowledge of their own deaths. This poor girl had no chance.
Before the girl could cry out, the wicked woman shifted further toward the bed, wrist flicking as she brought her into unconsciousness.
It was in that moment that she looked upon her victim. A name crossed through her mind, twisting her features into a scowl. So very easy to capture. The maiden was fair, she could not deny that. Her hair was like silken honey in the moonlight, splaying around her head like a golden halo, and her face was soft, sweet, and full of youth.
The dark witch imagined the joy she would obtain after breaking this girl of her innocence.
She let her fantasies subside for the moment and let her fluttering heart calm. Lingering only meant failure and she had waited far too long to let this slip through her fingers. Thus, she let violet magic consume them, pulling them closer to the dark future.