A/N Thank you again to all of the support I have had and a special thanks to all the help given to me by NightcatMau! If anybody does no know who this author is you aught to be ashamed! This was just a burst of inspiration given to me the other day... Again all support is fully appreciated!

Alone, again. After her outburst, she'd left them be, one - to prepare, two - for them to digest the information and move on. Bitter-sweet thoughts about them circling her mind, when was the last time she saw them? That's right the night she, for want of a better word, 'died'.

All those years ago, must have been what? 1804? Her and the dead men were there to storm one of Mevolent's main bases,'the watchtower' that's what people had called it. Her mission was to eliminate three definite threats to Meritorious inside the structure, their mission however was to infiltrate the areas around the building to clear the way for her and then take down the security measures, therefore desimating his control with the threat of being captured, tortured and killed on the side.

Although she had already got inside the structure and eliminated two threats, she had to eliminate the last and most dangerous, of course being the most dangerous meant the higher up in rank, the more security. Dismantling the security symbols, after that knocking out both guards, admittedly all that hadn't actually been that hard. It was the fact of who she could bump into had put pressure on her not the fact of more security. He had watched her being tortured, he had been one of the torturers, and he had smirked at her all the while.

She entered the room, managed to sneak up behind her victim, put a knife to his throat and threaten to kill him if he made a sound, before she slit his throat. The victim of course managed a strangled gurgle as he died but, with the way her luck was going at that point whilst exiting the structure she'd stumbled upon one of Mevolent's throne rooms. Luckily no one saw her, until she'd made a wrong turn, cursed herself and got caught by him.

He was the worst thing that could have possibly happened to her, he was the one she was afraid of bumping into, he was the one who destroyed her home, he was her torturer. Frozen by fear she ran however the only problem with her plan was the only way to run was up. Up the stairs to the top of the tower, to the roof. She hadn't been able to use her magic she'd been to afraid of him.

She remembered her last moments there as if they were in slow motion, running to the edge and turning to find he'd followed her weapon in hand. She got out her own and attempted to manoeuvre herself away from the edge, no such luck, her attempts were clumsy and weak. He had plunged the dagger into her chest watching as she let her energy explode killing any living thing in the building, with a few exceptions, and he had watched her fall. her scream echoing off the tower. Thereupon, the screaming that had erupted from the people in the village below, the havoc causing the dead men to wander over and see her dying form. She had died that day in front of them, given them her message, anon slowly faded her image until she transformed into a tiny silver stream that had floated high above them and dissipated in the air.

Forthwith they had scoured the building, finding no-one as the survivors made their escape and were far gone by that time. A few years after she had heard that a memorial had been erected for her in one of the mage graveyards, curiosity getting the better of her, she travelled to the graveyard where her own tomb stood. Being careful to not be noticed reading each inscription carefully though still devouring every word. They had cared so much and put effort into this as she saw they had laid her sword inside the tomb,beside a statue of a small girl, presumably herself in her cloak. Outside of the statue and the sword, the only other thing that had caught her attention was the jewellery that the statue wore, they had placed her bracelet and necklace on the statue.

The jewellery they knew that had been so special to her, the jewellery that her father had made her.