I was floating. Or maybe I was sinking. Then I couldn’t breathe. Water choked my senses. My lungs convulsed. Panic gripped me. I thrashed, searching for something, anything. A hand punched into air. I clawed my way after it. My face broke through the surface of the water and I gasped in the cool breath of life.
      Shuddering breath after shuddering breath, I looked around for something, anything, that would show me where I was. All I saw was darkness, a cavernous void of pitched ceilings and stone walls. Where was I?! What’s happening?!
      There! The edge of the pool! I swam over, dipping below the surface, fighting against the weight of the soggy clothing clinging to my form. I grabbed the edge and pulled myself from the water. Collapsing to the stone below, I lay there, staring at the ceiling, panting.
      My body was sore. Blood pounded in my ears and noise filled my mind. I couldn’t- I couldn’t remember anything. No, wait! I remembered one thing!
      My name. I whispered the word over and over, clinging to it in the darkness. No, not complete darkness. Light glittered from crystal scones upon the walls around me. What was I doing here? How… how did I get here? I can’t remember anything. Why can’t I remember anything?!
      I lifted myself up, sitting at the edge of what I could now see to be a deep pool, the depths shrouded in darkness. Pain lanced across my back and I reached back to touch where it hurt most. My fingers came away red. Blood? Was I injured? What happened to me? No, I might been injured but prodding the spot didn’t reveal anything more. It seemed… mostly healed…
      Gazing at the surface of the pool, I could just see my reflection forming as the water stilled. That’s who I am? My skin was a warm dark purple. Thick horns curled back from my brow before arcing up. My nails were long and pointed, painted black with red tips. Silver cuffs adorned my pointed ears and a tail with cuffs on its end flicked behind me. My clothing, though soaked, was very nice: a precisely fitted, double breasted black leather, sleeveless coat, some satin top with long sweeping sleeves and dark pants. Silver trimmed my coat and my knee high boots were filigreed with silver as well. A leather satchel was slung across my shoulders. How did I have all this? Who was I?
      Oh, there’s something clenched in my hand. When did I… was it always there? Slowly, painfully, I opened my fingers to reveal a necklace of some kind. A small red jewel on a simple golden chain that dangled between my fingers. Gazing at it, anger growled in the back of my mind. What it was, how I got it, I couldn’t remember.
      And I was angry as I looked at it. Angry… and sad. Why?
      Shakily getting to my feet and tucking the necklace into a pocket inside my coat, I looked around for something that could tell me what I was doing here. Maybe even tell me who I was. A dry chuckle escaped me as the thought tickled my mind. Shaking my head, I cast the thought from me. Right now, I needed to figure out where I was.
      The pool before me centered itself on an island upon which an altar formed the center piece. Inscribed upon the stone were runes, ones that tugged at my mind with familiarity. I tore my gaze from the altar and looked about the chamber. Tall walls lead to a vaulted ceiling. Suits of armor were scattered about the ground. Along with bodies. Taking a step back, I stared at one of the bodies. They looked to be human, maybe elven, pale skin and pale hair dyed with the blood that pooled around them.
      Taking a hard breath, I shambled over to the body and knelt with a wince of pain. They were dressed in dark attire, leather armor and a mask to cover their face. Slashes and gashes covered their body, wounds that seemed to have been made by the long sword resting in the loose gauntlet of an empty suit of armor.
      With pained effort, I examined the other three bodies in the room. They were all in the same condition. All the bodies were cold and the blood dried. It looked like… some kind of battle. Was I involved in it? Was I with these people or with the suits of armor? My tail lashed in frustration. What in the blazes happened to me? Happened here?! Who was I?!
      I took a deep breath. Getting mad wasn’t going to help me. Keep a calm mind, a still mind.
      “Empty yourself. You cannot let emotion cloud your intention. Or your mana will twist and tear at your very mind. Many a great mage has been undone by a whisper of sadness, a trill of happiness. You must be better than all of them, child.”
      “Who said that?” I looked around, seeking the source of the voice. But in the echoes of my voice, there was only the shadows, bodies and me. The voice sounded… masculine, deep in its tenor. Familiar. Did I know them? Did I know the speaker? Another rush of frustration moved through me and I forced another calming breath. They spoke of mages. Did I know magic?
      I took another breath. Doesn’t matter. Not right now. I need to figure my way out of here. While it seemed like the injury wasn’t getting any worse, I couldn't stay here, surrounded by corpses and shadows.
      “Now what happened here?”
      I slowly looked over to a man standing in a doorway that wasn’t there before. He had tanned skin and loosely curled, short black hair. His gaze flicked to me and I instinctively tensed. A rapier adorned his hip and his dark clothing looked like studded leather armor. A smirk curled his lips.
      “I knew something was off when so many of the traps were already dismantled,” the man said as he took a lazy step towards me. “But to find someone here, in the midst of a battlefield that… a few days old by the smell of the blood… now that is an unexpected treat.” His demeanor was casual, nonchalant. But the look in his eye, he was ready to strike. Like a reared viper.
      And I had no way of defending myself. Could I do magic? Maybe, but at this moment I couldn’t recall a single spell, a single gesture or incantation that would help me. I’d found no weapons on my person, if I even was trained with such things.
      “Not going to answer me?” The man smirked, drawing his rapier. “That’s fine. I’m sure you’ll be plenty talkative once I’ve bloodied you up!”
      He dashed towards me, rapier readying for a piercing strike. I tensed, raising a hand. At the last moment, the rapier thrust towards me and I twisted away, only for my foot to catch on a pauldron and spill me across the ground. The man towered over me, cut and piercing, chasing me towards the edge of the pool.
      “The Scion of House Vanyil must be perfect.”
      The wooden training sword cracks across my back and I tumble to the floor. Everything hurts. I try to stand only for the wooden sword to touch my chin.
      “A pathetic display, girl.” My trainer, Mistress Oreska, stares down at me.
      I grit my teeth and push myself back up, gripping the hilt of my training rapier. Did he see that? I risk a glance up towards the balcony. Oh no. Grandfather gazes at me, the smallest scowl on his lips. No. No. Nonononono.
      He turns and walks away. No!
      I look to Mistress Oreska.
      “What’s wrong, little Scion? Realizing that you are a pathetic waste of a bloodline?”
      I grip the rapier. I hear the song hum in my chest. I feel the magic in my bones. The rapier is light in my hands for the first time. “You will regret such words, Oreska.”
      “You can barely stand, girl. You can’t do anything. And you will go without food again.”
      I don’t fight the power. I let it guide the rapier. Oreska is left against the wall when the power fades. The wooden blade is embedded in her hands, pinning them to the ground.
      I rolled away from the slash of the rapier and popped up to my feet. Serenity washed over my mind as I raised myself into a sword stance. A rapier drew itself from the air, settling into my hand, its weight and feel familiar and welcome. The magic hummed in my bones.
      “What the- how in the?!” The man readied himself as he glanced about. “Neat trick.” Then he lunged at me.
      I parried with a flick of my wrist and stabbed in towards his chest. He dodged aside then struck at my hand. I twisted my hand away before retaliating towards his chest. Our strikes danced back and forth, equal, fast, the blades ringing with deflection and connection.
      Sighting a chance, I pressed in close to try and grab his wrist. He ducked aside from me and swept my feet. I stumbled away and he was right there, pressing his blade against my throat.
      “Gods, you’re spicy,” the man said. “Seems almost a shame to kill you. But if you’re going to keep getting in my way, I don’t think I’ll have a choice.”
      “Getting in your way? You attacked me.”
      “She speaks! Of course you’re in my way. I’m trying to rob this place and you seem to have beaten me to the punch.” The man moved to stand in front of me, sword still at my throat. “Now. Hand over everything you found here and I’ll consider letting you go.”
      The necklace. I immediately thought of the necklace. And the anger returned. Never. I’d never let that go. My grip tightened on the hilt of my rapier and I took a deep breath. The song. I needed to hear the song again, needed the magic to hum in my bones.
      The man jolted ever so slightly as he glanced around. “What the- what am I hearing?”
      I twisted away from his blade and slashed up the length of his arm. Red splattered across the ground as he jerked aside at the last second, narrowly avoiding the worst of the injury. I pressed his surprise, turning thrusts into slashes and avoidance into backsteps. He blocked and deflected, barely keeping a step ahead of my strikes.
      Then I managed to hook the tip of my blade between the wrap of the basket hilt and jerk it from his hand. The rapier scattered across the ground and I slashed across his wrist, severing the tendons in a heartbeat. With a yelp, he reeled back and I caught his foot, sweeping him to the ground. Kneeling over him, I used one hand to pin his, a foot to pin his other arm and a knee on his chest, my blade hovering above his throat.
      “Spicy enough for you?” I said.
      The man stared at me for a heartbeat before a chuckle escaped his throat. “By the gods, I wasn’t expecting that. So what was that, huh? A little illusion to distract me? Cause it worked perfectly.”
      “I’m asking the questions here.” I glanced over him now that we weren’t in a rush of blades. He was a very handsome elf and definitely dressed in dark leather armor. Pouches covered a bandolier slung across his chest and his cloak was of fine make. “Why are you here?”
      “To rob this tomb, darling, I already said so.”
      “This is a tomb?” My skin crawled. “Whose tomb?”
      “Don’t know exactly. Some ancient archmage.” He gazed at me, crimson eyes narrowing. “If you’re here, you should know all of this. So why ask me such basic questions, darling?”
      “Do not call me that.” I jerked his slashed wrist and watched the wince of pain across his face.
      “What else am I supposed to call you?” He smirked. “I don’t exactly know your name and I like to know the names of the people who straddle me.”
      “If you’re trying to distract me, it won’t work.”
      “Oh, darling, I would never try to distract a beautiful woman when she’s on top of me.”
      The stutter in my heartbeat was entirely involuntary. I rolled my eyes. “I think you should take this situation seriously. What were you hunting here?”
      He regarded me for a moment. “A relic of the archmage that rests here. It’s said to be a powerful magical artifact and I wanted it.”
      “What relic?”
      “I’m not entirely sure. Supposedly, it’s a fragment of a crown created over three hundred years ago. I don’t know anything else.”
      “If you know so little about the relic, why did you even want it?”
      He stared at me, smirk fading to neutral regard.
      This time it was my turn to smirk. “You’re an errand boy. And what a pretty one to send.” I relaxed my grip on my rapier, instead hooking a finger under his chin. “I almost regret slicing you up now. How else will you be able to serve your master?”
      There. In his eyes. A flash of anger, resentment. Quickly hidden by a playful smirk. “Don’t worry, darling. I heal much faster than you think. In fact…” The wrist whose tendons I’d severed moved as he raised his fingers to wave them at me. “I think I’m already feeling better.”
      I glanced at the fingers then back at him. “Impressive. Still planning on skewering me with that hand?”
      “Darling, I have better ideas of what I can do with that hand. All of which involve you. None of which involve death.”
      The rapier disappeared from my hand, my will to keep it present fading away, and I grabbed his chin. “You seem like a useful person to know and I hate being wasteful. I’m going to get up. You can either be my friend or stay lying here until I’m gone. Do you understand?”
      “Darling, I thought you’d never ask.”
      I levied myself up, keeping my foot on his wrist until I was fully standing. I took a few steps back as he sat up. He watched me with a smirk before standing.
      “I’m Erevan, darling. And what should I call you?”
      “Rieta. My name is Rieta.”