Quick steps, heavy breaths, windows passed by endlessly as they raced down the halls. A wide grin, an escaped laugh, this was the most fun Arvella had experienced in ages. A rush of adrenaline, her heart racing, a tinge of fear racing down her spine.

"Don't worry," she breathed, her breath almost entirely gone, "we won't be late."

She glanced over her shoulder as Balem gave an abrupt nod, a sign that he too had lost whatever voice he could muster. Sure, they were cutting rather close on time for dinner started at 1800 sharp. Right now, after only glancing at a clock, it was nearly 5 till, and by now, they literally only had minutes left.

Arvella, however, didn't care whether they were late or not. Sure, it was horrible manners to be late when guests were here, but it was her home, so she liked to think she had a bit of an excuse. Balem, on the other hand, was completely distraught at the idea of being late, it had nearly made him go into a manic state. He didn't express his displeasure on the outside, but his dark eyes were a crystal clear reflection to his emotions.

Finally, Arvella caught sight of the grand ebony doors ahead of them, where she knew the others were waiting perhaps impatiently on the other side. Arvella stumbled to a stop in front of the doors, taking a few seconds to try and regain herself. She took in deep breaths, shutting her eyes and trying to relax, before turning to face Balem, who was doing the same.

Arvella glanced up to Balem, giving an acknowledging nod to indicate that she was ready, and when he did the same, she slowly, carefully pushed open the doors.

What she saw next took the breath right out of her once more.

For a moment, she didn't believe her eyes. The first thing her vision rested upon was the long table, staring down at it and the many silver goblets and plates that lined the dark wood. Her eyes trailed down the table and rested on her father, at least who she thought to be.

The man who faced her sitting at the head of the table was young, perhaps in his mid-twenties. His hair was a striking crimson, much like her own, except no gray lined the edges. His skin was soft and smooth, tanned and unwrinkled. For a moment, Arvella had forgotten to breathe.

"Father?" She choked out, the sound pained and confused. She didn't know what was going on, but she felt her stomach starting to churn. She trembled as she turned her head to the seat beside her father, inhaling quickly when she saw the woman who now smiled back at her.

"Mother?"

She, as well, was a much younger version of her former self, her golden hair so vibrant and full of life. Her violet eyes shimmered in the light, her teeth so bright when she smiled at her. A face so full of joy, so full of absolute elation, Arvella should have felt something similar, but only dread filled began to cloud her very state. She would have fainted if it hadn't been for another voice, one that seemed to awaken her.

"Wonderful, isn't it?"

Arvella slowly came out of the fog she was experiencing, turning her attention on none other than Seraphi. She held herself grandly at the table as if she had been the center of attention, holding her posture so high, so brilliant. Her ebony hair glistened under the crystal lights, her pale marble skin almost glowing. He lips were now painted a vibrant red, her remarkable eyes seeming to look directly through Arvella.

"What have you done to them?" Arvella managed to utter, her voice soft, trembling.

Her response ushered quick laughter from both of her parents, a small smile crossing Seraphi's lips.

"I, have done nothing," she explained, gesturing over to her parents, "I have merely presented a grand opportunity, and your parents have kindly accepted."

"Opportunity?" Arvella scoffed, her confusion quickly turning to anger as she began to realize the gravity of the situation, "by turning them into something they're not?"

Yet another round of laughs quickly filled the room, and Arvella was only growing increasingly frustrated with the replies. She was so confused, so hurt, what had Seraphi done with her parents?

"But Arvella," her mother soon answered, her voice cool and calm, "it is us."

"No," Arvella quickly retaliated, shaking her head, "it isn't...but if it is..." She shook her head, looking to the floor before looking back up to them, studying them closely.

"How?"

Arvella nearly jumped when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, and slowly looked over to see Balem gazing down at her, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"It is better if we show you."

Arvella gazed down at the pool before her feet, furrowing her brow as she studied the shimmering waters before her. It stayed so still like a sheet of glass, yet she could see tiny ripples from below the surface, cobalt flickers as if a light were going out. It was unlike any substance than she had ever seen before. The more she looked at it, tried to gaze down into its depths, the more she became lost, intrigued.

"We call it Regenex," Seraphi explained, stepping up behind Arvella.

Arvella glanced over her shoulder to the woman, her eyes full of curiosity.

"Is it the fountain of youth?" She tried, having read many tales about a fabled fountain before.

Seraphi merely chuckled, clasping her hands in front of her cooly.

"In a way, yes," she nodded gesturing to the pool, "think of it more as a serum, something we have created."

Arvella bit her lip, looking back at the still pool before her as she narrowed her eyes. Slowly, she knelt down so she was closer to the surface, leaning over ever so slightly. She gazed down into the dark depths, studying her reflection on its smooth surface. There was something so surreal to it, something so foreign yet strangely familiar. She gently reached out a hand, hesitating just before it touched the surface. Something kept her away, a flood of energy sweeping over her, sending chills down the spine. Yet, she needed it, needed to know.

A ripple was sent out when her delicate finger touched the surface, trails of vibrant blue streaks cascading around it. It was almost a shock, at first, but it sent a wave of pure euphoria through her, a feeling that she had never experienced. She smiled, taking a deep breath as she immersed her hand in it, moving her fingers through the liquid. It was surprisingly warm to touch but perfect in every sense. As she waved her hand around, she felt the lightness of it, felt the energizing texture it had on her skin. It was as if a thousand little beads were being bounced against her skin, as if it were neither a liquid nor solid.

She finally found the courage to draw her hand out, watching at the serum ran off of her skin. What she saw was not a hand worn from years of riding, but now as smooth as a newborn's skin. She gasped, looking it over in awe as she saw all of her wrinkles were gone, every crack and scratch she had ceased to exist. Even her nails, which she usually had a very difficult time keeping nice, were glimmering and perfect.

With wide eyes, she turned her head to look at Seraphi once more, her mouth open in complete awe at the sight. She was truly speechless.

"You will never have to worry about growing old ever again," she explained to her with a bright smile, "the serum will restore you to your pique physical condition despite whatever may ail you."

"Immortality?" Arvella finally spoke, her eyes drifting back to her hand as she looked it over. Her eyes averted to Balem as he stepped forward, his hands neatly clasped in front of him as his dark cloak trailed the ground behind him.

"Precisely."