(5) THE FIRST VERSE: BLUE EYES AND THE BLOOD

Zaria ran, her heart pounding against her ribs like a drum, fueled by a terrifying urgency. The joyous atmosphere of the city was miles away, replaced by the damp chill of the forest fringe. A monster in Miravale was not just a threat; it was a crisis, suggesting the very foundation of their safety was crumbling.
The beast is near the cave near the waterfall.
As she skirted the edge of the woods, she spotted movement near the main road. Ivor, flanked by a squad of guards, was already there, examining the bloodstained ground where the merchant had been injured. His face was a mask of cold fury. Zaria instantly ducked behind a thick cluster of low-hanging pines, knowing he would stop her before she took three steps.
Taking a deep, centering breath, Zaria closed her eyes. She reached out, not with her mind, but with the strange, inherent magic that coursed through Zaria Miravale’s veins. It was like tuning a sensitive string.
Breathe. Feel.
A sudden, sharp ripple of dark, distorted energy hit her—not pure evil, but rage and fear, like a pain-crazed animal.
Zaria's eyes snapped open. They were no longer brown, but glowed with a fierce, ethereal sapphire blue. Instinctively, she reached for the hilt of the ornamental sword she always carried—a silver-handled blade that had previously been just an accessory. Now, the silver handle pulsed, and a blade of shimmering, liquid light materialized, humming with barely contained power.
In a flash of blue vision, she pinpointed the source of the distress: a small, shadowy cave nestled behind the rush of a hidden waterfall.

“Come out!” Zaria commanded, her voice cutting through the rustle of leaves, carrying a confidence Annie had never possessed.
A creature lurched from the cave entrance—not the scaled dragon she had half-expected, but a grotesque mix of shadow and muscle, its skin rough like obsidian rock, its eyes wild with pain. It was clearly injured, clearly terrified, and clearly powerful.
The duel was swift and brutal. Zaria moved with an agility she never knew she had, the glowing sword a streak of blue light. She dodged a swipe of massive claws and executed a series of precise strikes meant to disable, not kill. She realized quickly that the beast wasn't fighting to survive; it was fighting to escape a force greater than her.
She lowered her sword. "I won't kill you! Someone is controlling you!"
Seeing an opportunity, Zaria used a nearby boulder to leap, landing with uncanny balance directly on the beast’s broad, heaving skull. She instinctively channeled her magical energy, not to attack, but to soothe, flooding the creature’s mind with peace. The creature roared once, then instantly slumped. Its obsidian hide softened slightly, and its panicked energy receded, replaced by the whimpers of a terrified child.
It was a baby. A monstrous baby, but terrified and clearly manipulated.
Someone evil is using them. A cold, clinical fear replaced her adrenaline rush.
The AssassinThe moment of quiet triumph shattered. A flicker of movement to her right, too fast to track, and a sudden, sharp, sickening thwack that echoed off the cavern walls.
Zaria looked up.
A figure stood on a ledge above her, draped in shadow. He was tall, his appearance disguised by layers of black clothing, his face mostly hidden by long, slick black hair. But what held her gaze were his eyes: two inhuman, terrifying red glows burning in the gloom.
Before Zaria could even speak, the creature beneath her shuddered. Its brief, peaceful whimper ended abruptly.
A geyser of hot, sticky blood erupted from the beast’s throat, splashing Zaria’s face and chest. The creature slumped completely, a lifeless, heavy sack.
The shock was a physical blow. The warmth of the baby creature’s breath on her neck one second, the stench of its lifeblood the next. Zaria's mind registered the scarlet warmth on her skin before she fully processed the murder.
Tears sprang into her luminous blue eyes—tears of rage and sorrow. Despite the man’s terrifying appearance, despite the red, glowing eyes that radiated pure, chilling malice, Zaria lunged, pointing her glowing sword straight at his neck.
“Why did you kill him?” she choked out, the tears mixing with the blood on her cheeks.
The man’s head tilted slightly. His voice was a deep, gravelly rasp that seemed to vibrate the very air.
“A beast is meant to die.”
“Then you are also a beast!” Zaria screamed, her voice breaking. “And I will execute you too!”
The man gave no response. In a blink, he simply vanished, as if dissolving into the shadows. Zaria slashed the air where he stood, her sapphire eyes scanning frantically, but he was gone without a trace.
She sank to her knees next to the small, dead monster, her sword falling uselessly to the ground. She wept, silent and heartbroken, mourning the innocent creature she had only just befriended.

After a long cry, Zaria used the glowing sword to dig a small grave near a cluster of wild peach trees. She placed the little beast within and laid a perfect, fuzzy peach on the freshly turned earth, praying for peace.
She stumbled to the waterfall, scrubbing desperately at the grime and blood. As she emerged from the spray, shaking and still wiping her face, she heard a familiar, thunderous tread.
“Zaria!” Ivor’s voice was sharp with alarm. He had clearly followed her trail of shouting.
Zaria froze, waist-deep in the cold pool. “Ivor! Don’t look! I have no clothes on!”
The footsteps instantly stopped. She heard a sharp intake of breath. “What?!” Ivor’s voice was strained, muffled. “Stay where you are! I’ll come back after you’ve… after five minutes.” He turned sharply, his back rigid.
Zaria quickly dressed in her damp clothes. When she emerged, Ivor was pacing, his face a mixture of fury and concern.
“You absolute lunatic! Fighting a monster alone? Do you have any idea the chaos you could have caused—”
Zaria cut him off, a faint, weary smile touching her lips. “I know, Ivor. But I needed to know how much I’ve learned. And I needed to see if the shield was truly broken.”
She recounted the horrifying tale—the beast’s controlled state, the evidence of an external force, and the instantaneous, brutal murder by the terrifying man with the red eyes.
Ivor’s anger evaporated, replaced by a cold, calculating gravity. “A person capable of that kind of magic… and that speed. We need details. Every piece of clothing, every shadow.”
“He vanished. Like mist,” Zaria whispered.
Ivor clenched his fists, then looked her straight in the eye, his expression intense. “Don’t ever pull this stunt again. If you must hunt for danger, you take me with you. Next time, you take me with you. Understood?”
Zaria looked at her cousin, seeing the genuine fear beneath his commander's fury. She simply nodded. "Understood."