As Clare felt another wave of immense power blitz through her already quivering body, she made out the distinct yet muffled boisterous yelling's of a panicking Helen, who had one of her stretchy, extendable arms tremulously elongated towards Clare's neck, hesitant on whether or not to take the inhuman life of No. 47, one of her dearest comrades and, more importantly friends. Though she only got a quick glance, she also saw in the nearby destroyed building, Miria, Deneve and Jean along with the captains faces all dancing with undisguised, sincere worry. A pang of deep regret shot through her, 'if only there was another way…' The azure beacon of luminous light ascended into the cloudy, moon-light sky, another wave of pleasurable yet horrifying power over swept her considerably. Her intensifying Yoma blood pumped thorough her extruding veins. And as her last piece of humanity left her, she let out a bellowing roar, snarling her monstrous teeth as the blue beacon intensified to one last height, before it descended swiftly back to her now awakened body. Her blue scaly body still shuddered, as her caustic tendrils shook in anticipation. The only thing she could hear in her mind, was the overcoming cry of one word, one feeling… 'blood.' As her newly acquired primal instincts kicked in, she quickly shook her head towards a terrified Helen, preparing to pounce. To her right she heard a collective of gasps and cries of persuasion as she itched slowly towards Helen on her hooved feet, but nothing could sway her from the pungent, delectable smell of Helen's wounded flesh. But before she could spill even more blood though, the calming, serene voice of that woman overcame her blinded, senseless mind.

"Clare…."

Overcome with a new emotion and feeling of remorse Clare, steadily backed away from the guarded Helen. 'No, she isn't the one I want to kill, she's… she's my friend…. No…. I… I must kill…. I must kill…' "PRISCILLA!"

With on final deafening roar Clare rapidly leapt towards the snowy sky, leaving her yelling comrades behind… One objective on her mind, one feeling… Vengeance…

Seven years later

As Miria gently trod on the dirt riddled path, she already heard the bustling town of Rabona as they approached. The other seven tiredly trudging behind her, Helen muttering the same complaints she said hours ago when they were heavily training in the nearby hidden plains. The sun was already setting over the horizon, as people made their way into nearby pubs to sneak in a drink, or gathering up their children, preparing to a practiced routine for the next day. With the sky dulling it only felt like minutes ago had they woken up, to prepare once again for another day of training. Recently it had seemed like every day was growing to be the same. Wake up in the early morning, six grueling hours of training, sleep then repeat. The only ever difference was the company. It seems even Helen's and Deneve's bickering hadn't gotten old in the past seven years, though the hopelessness certainly had. Not a single day had passed without Jean asking the same thing over and over again. It wore steadily at Miria's cloudy mind. Nowadays Jean was like a tape recorder, constantly stuck in the past, replaying things they already knew, seemingly not knowing how to stop herself. She felt the most guilty and burdened of them all.

Helen was close behind, desperately trying to fulfill a promise nobody, including herself, knew she could keep.

Deneve's grief hadn't lasted long, but she's a lot like Clare in that way – always calm like an oceans waves, never rippling unless something deeply disturbs her. But who truly knew what demons and monsters swam inside of her.

Tabitha, Cynthia and Yuma where all affected to, striving to be stronger and wiser so they'd never have to witness the death of those they called sisters ever again, all of them were in that position in a way. But Yuma more than others, she always knew she was weak, but seeing the consequences of it all, as people die protecting you is the harsh reality. The strong ruled over the weak, that has always been how the world was run. You see it in nature, wildlife and humans, but especially more so in a world riddled with monsters and warriors. And so she internally promised to those she allowed to die for her, to become stronger and avenge them in the only way she knows how.

As for Miria, now that was a tricky one – they all looked up to her of course, they were all eternally grateful toward her in their own ways. It showed in their actions – how Helen would actually listen to a superior for once or Tabitha's protectiveness over her, all those little things, from each of them, did so much to put a secret smile on her weary face. But most of all it showed in their eyes, silvers eyes of a 'monster' glowing not a sickening gold, but with compassion, gratefulness, admiration and most of all a mutual trust they shared between them. They had survived the impossible together, yes with cuts and bruises, scars that would never heal or fade. Yet together they'd lick each other wounds, and proceed on together, avenge those friends that have passed, find one whom is lost and together show humans the true humanity of a 'monsters' heart.

Also seven years later

The wind atop Mount Zakol stretched thin, sending loose rocks down the perilous steeps. At the dove-white peak, waves of white rumbled down the sides, as the sunsets golden rays reached from the horizon, illuminating a small, pale child. As she smoothly climbed up the dangerous rock face with sophisticated ease, moving some of her chestnut locks that danced on the wind from her face, she faced the horizon, face glowing with the lasting rays before the sun finally goes to sleep and the moon and stars come out to play. That's how her mother used to describe it anyway.

Her brows creased as she continued onward, curiously tracing her shrinking shadow as it followed behind her.

By the time she reached the hollowed out cave, milky patterns of dancing stars graced the night's sky and a comforting darkness enwrapped her 'frail' body. Checking behind her she realized her shadow was no longer with her, now a part of the ever growing darkness.

The canopy of scattered stars and the slim crescent moon brightened the night below the heavens as the young girl entered the chilling darkness unfazed, her green eyes swept over the pools of stagnant water, bat nests, and more importantly the bulky Yoki rods protruding from the rocky walls and collapsing ceiling. The stench of death and urine passed through her nose. The floor was littered with both Yoma and human corpses alike, purple and crimson blood mixed together and splattered through the cave's entrance as if it was an empty canvas for a sickening 'artist.' It was easier to think of those bodies as nothing more than that, empty shells with no heart beating, it gets rid of all sentimentality for the dead, though that seemingly has disappeared years ago with her humanity. They lie like dolls as she walks over them, proceeding deeper into the depths, carefully treading over loose stones that littered the floor.

After a couple of minutes of cautiously pacing down the caverns wide yet shallow mouth, she comes across a ghostly light omitting from a large, imposing room. The only sounds reaching her ears were quite girlish mutterings and echoing footsteps. As she entered the room her dilated eyes relaxed, having a heavy reprieve from the previous darkness that could only be bested by having no eyes whatsoever. The room was gently illuminated by lit lamps scattered across the walls in an odd like manner. There was little furniture, only a royal red rug stretched out frivolously under a simple wooden chair. But there upon it sat another young petite girl, who might as well have been sitting on a throne. Her back straight and proud yet a seemingly somewhat innocent smirk on her face, thousands of thoughts queuing up in her mind as her lips slowly pulled into a grin by puppet strings no one else can seem to see. It's disturbing, watching someone display emotions that definitely don't match the situation, a smile whilst someone else mourns or a frown at happy events. It reminds the child to much of a certain someone that haunts her dreams.

Next to the gleeful 'child' sat a large, ogre like man. His thick bony brow stretching his leathery skin as he munched in concentration on what could only be human remains. His grunting and heavy breath adding echoing ripples through the silence. His hunched shoulders and bowed head straightened at the girls giggling.

"Dauf, be polite we have guests!" As she chastised him she lept from her 'throne,' raising to her tip toes playfully as she dusted of her pink dress, running her fingers through her dark chestnut hair, combing out imperfections that weren't there.

"Hello! My names Riful, nice to meet you!" She held out her hand in a polite manner, still bearing a borderline creepy grin on her face. The big brute next to her, Dauf, glanced up once, un-amused, and then continued to devour the remains of some foolish farmer. Riful pulled her hand away at Clare's silence.

"Huh…You're a quite one alright!" She pondered as she stuck her fingers under her chin a thinking manner. "Anyways, what are you doing here, you know it's dangerous to climb mountains right? Especially with Yoma about!" At her last comment her eyes gleamed and her grin widened impossibly, it was like watching an animal preparing to strike – baring their teeth. She looked like a fragile child, made of porcelain or glass, shattering into a million pieces at the slightest misplaced touch – the opposite of a brute like Dauf. How far from the truth that is.

The girl ignoring all pretense of conversation spoke, despite her child-like voice, calmly, void of emotion her facial muscles loose, but with definitive determination only few could fully ever understand. "Where is the awakened one Priscilla?"

Undoubtedly surprised by the girl's query and tone, Riful pulled a knowing yet slightly shocked face.

"Your also awakened?" Her childish voice didn't falter, but there was still an underlying tone of hidden fear in her voice. 'How could I not sense her Yoki?! No! I still can't!'

Wanting to waste little time so she can proceed to her true objective the child responded with no hesitation. "I am 'The Masked Child of the East'."

Riful let out an involuntary gasp of dread as Dauf finally looked up with dumb confusion. Riful motioned her hand for Dauf to stay seated and coyly, with only a small hint of caution asked – "Why should I believe you?" Expecting this result, the child unclasped the secure lid of her Yoki that has not been released once during the past seven years of her inner training. She released a little less than 1% of her power, wiping both Dauf and Riful of their feet as electromagnetic waves blitz through the cave creating static in the air, as her once green eyes are slightly tainted gold.

Ready to turn into her awakened state at a moment's notice, Riful steadily stood back up with Dauf following behind, she spoke, voice laced with tremendous terror and shame. "I don't know of Priscilla's whereabouts at all…" Her pitiful voice carried across the caverns walls, bouncing around as the night's chilly wind finally reached these depths of the mountain.

Despite what she said, the child could easily see through her lies that past through the gleaming white enamel which had devoured so many 'innocent' human's lives, it slipped out, smooth and practiced like butter melting down toast.

Only nodding her head curtly as a reply, she pretended to accept the lie, turning her back to the cave. Behind her she could hear Dauf's useless meandering, as he dumbly questioned a shaky Riful, her purple blood pumping through her veins, pulse writhing in her ear, waiting with a paralyzing trepidation for the child to leave. Her wish was not granted however, as fast as last July's lightning storm the child whisked around, air travelling past her as she unleashed her power. Riful stood defenseless, bile rising up in her throat as she watched Dauf's head roll with a clattering sound on to their homes floor. She could feel the rage and sadness building up at the back of her throat, trying to form coherent words. But stood still as Dauf's body now was, paralyzed by a sickening fear someone as powerful as her should never feel.

The child watched stoically as many expressions washed over Riful's distraught face, and repeated her earlier question once more. "Where is the awakened one Priscilla?" Riful at the behest of her mind spoke out of fear – "I-I don't know, last I heard she was with Isley…" For once she didn't spat the man's name out, not minding his company right now compared to this true monster.

The adolescent grunted in acknowledgment, sealing of her lust-driven power. Riful let out a shaky breath of release, as the intimidating pressure of that tremulous Yoki left the atmosphere. Turning around, proceeding out into the night's twilight air, the young girl began slowly strutting, thoughts and intentions clear, before a hesitant yell came from Riful cradling Dauf's bloodied head, silent tears streaming down her messed face. "You-What's your name?" The girl pondered the query, continuing walking until she spoke in a surprisingly timid manner.

"Clare…"

Over in the distance, moonlit cliffs rose sheer from the nearby forest, stones jaded a glowing white under the evenings sky, as a dark emerald ocean of leaves and trees curtained around it. On top of the range of granite rocks, stood a woman, pale as the silver eyes she possessed, pointed ears raised towards the sky. Her sturdy armor and dark green cape flimsy in the wind, a lot like a kite.

She spoke clearly through the chilly, bleak wind that brought no red bloom to her cheeks or nose.

"Hmm… It seems you've returned after all this time… Clare…"