Suffocating, starving and blind, the child clawed at the flesh walls of her cell, drinking frozen blood, chewing through cold, fibrous flesh, gnawing upon rotting viscera that flooded around her, eating her way out the corpse of her dead mother. The cold, harsh world welcomed her in its blistering winds and sharp, frozen shards of snow. It hurt to breathe, but the snow was so white and beautiful in the darkness of this grim, bleak world that she couldn't look away even when her eyes started to freeze. One was a beautiful, opalescent hazel whose colors shimmered like the inside of a gemstone, mercilessly eaten by the frost. The other was a horrid, demonic black that devoured the entire sclera, with but a single ring of blood in its darkness no frost dared to touch.

  Suffocating, starving and blind, Zaphrriyah awoke in the depths of the Blackwater, hot blood flowing fast to her arms and legs as she unfurled from her foetal position. Arms outstretched, legs together, she tilted her neck up, rotating blindly in the empty darkness of Blackwater until she sensed she was face up. Then she whispered softly to the Blackwater, willing it to lift her up. Its unseen tendrils obeyed, slithering around her, pushing forth like a current and she ascended through the darkness. She broke surface and emerged. The inconsistent fluid of the Blackwater slivered from her pale-grey skin, dripping out of raven, black hair that was darker than the Blackwater itself.

  Zaphrriyah stood upon the center of the Blackwater lake, its surface solid beneath her feet as she slowly made her way towards shore. Great Pines of the Woods surrounded the lake, looming so tall their heights were lost from sight far into the darkness above, making the clearing of the lake seem no more than a small puddle in their greatness. Snow fell around her, melting on her warm skin. It was dark, the same darkness she had known her entire life, a darkness that was but Gloom. There was still an entire day ahead of her until nightfall.

  As she walked, blood flowed out from the wrists of her outstretched arms, drawing over her skin like ink in intricate patterns that fixed themselves over her entire body seamlessly, starting from the wrists to the back of her hands, along the length of her fingers, her neck, her face and all the way down to her feet, covering her pale, corpse-like skin in the darkness of blood. Her blood stopped flowing as the runes completed over her bare body. A dark piece of silken fabric soared through the winds from ashore, draping itself over her shoulders and hanging all the way down to her ankles. The shawl was spattered with bits of red that resembled strange runes like that bled into her skin towards the edges of its fabric, and the dark consistency of the silk itself was infused with a deep violet that seemed to be swirling infinitely.

  She sauntered to a stop when she approached the lakeside. The surface of the Blackwater gently sent circlets of ripples from where she stood. The winds had ceased and the snow had frozen mid-fall. Zaphrriyah turned around.

  At the middle of the lake from whence she'd come, there stood another woman. She was so white and she stood so still she would have easily been mistaken for the snow, but even with all the distance between them, Zaphrriyah could still see her eyes. Those bright, blue sapphire eyes that stared straight through her soul. The colors of those eyes remained frozen in space when her body of snow vanished in a gust of wind, phasing through the distance, closer and closer until the snow brought her within a few paces to Zaphrriyah. The woman was beautiful. More so than the snow, her skin whiter still, her hair softer, adorned in a coat of snow. The way her white lashes fluttered over those sapphire eyes was a beautiful magic to behold.

  "Zaphrriyah my sweet, dear sister. How you've grown these last few years. Do you still remember when I first took you to the Blackwater?"

  "I drowned."

  "You did, but now look at you. Four hours, eleven minutes and twenty-six seconds. I take it, this means you have made up your mind."

  "I have for a long time and now I am prepared through ritual. The time is now. Are you here to stop me, sister Camille?"

  "No. I just wanted to see you one last time before you depart."

  "I wished to see you too."

  "That's sweet. I'm glad you thought about me." Camille smiled cordially and sighed. "I still think it's too soon. You're still so young and there is still so much for you to learn. But such is youth, and I know I have long since forgotten mine. Just remember, Zaphrriyah, that you always have a choice. You can always come back to us." She sighed lightly again. "Vigilance, focus and will, my dear sister. May the cold hands of death steer clear of your shoulders."

  "Thank you, sister Camille.”

  Camille's smile faded into snow, her face and body following. The bright colors of her sapphire eyes lingered, though they eventually faded as well. The world resumed. Snow began to fall again as the winds blew cold and sharp, gently rustling through the needles of the Pines surrounding the lake.

  Zaphrriyah turned back towards shore, stepping out from the Blackwater onto the cold, frozen grounds of snow. In the incredibly thick trunk of a Pine by the lakeside were a pair of twin khukuri lodged deep in its bark, their steel shining silver with a dark accent like the night sky deep in their mineral. She grabbed their wrapped hilts and pulled, dislodging the length of their blades from the Pine. Then she entered the Woods.

  The endless height of the Pines came with endless levels of canopies which blocked out the Gloom of the skies entirely. Even the snow was scarce, though some still filtered through all the needles to grace the woodland grounds. It was much darker, and it got darker still the deeper Zaphrriyah ventured from the lake. She had lived in the Woods her entire life and still she had not come close to seeing even a fraction of it. Even the parts she had seen were never truly familiar. The Woods were ever shifting. The Pines themselves silently moving, the ashen soil beneath the thick layers of snow moving with them.

  Zaphrriyah had her own ritual for navigating these treacherous Woods. The Pines she’d passed were marked with blood. The Pines would move, and new Pines would take their place, but as the years went on, and she marked more with blood, she would track their movements, their patterns, and from the mark on each pine, know her location relative to the movement of the Woods. Besides that, there were few places in the Woods that she really ever needed to visit.

  This was a small clearing in the Woods where a Pine had been struck down. All that was left of it was a large, splintered stump. It was the work of her sister Hellawes. Zaphrriyah climbed into the pit of the hollowed stump. She looked around the splintered grounds where snow had taken hold as she sauntered to its midst. She lifted her blades to her sides as blood flowed from her wrists, along the hilts of her blades into the grooves of its steel. Her shawl billowed from sudden, strong winds, its fabric seeping full of blood. And she began to dance. Blades slicing through the air, shawl flowing in her wake, its skirt twisting as she swayed and pirouetted. Blood spilled to her every move, following her dance in dark streams of red, seeping through the dead wood of the Pine, melting snow and forming patterns in the splintered wood. The winds blew fiercer, howling louder. Pine needles swirled around the clearing. Shadows of the Woods drew closer, spiraling around the clearing with the winds, growing darker and darker still until the Pines outside the clearing could no longer be seen even by her, and the Gloom of the sky was completely swallowed by darkness.

  Her dance came to an end. The red of blood painted onto the stump was the only color in the darkness. The pattern itself resembled an eight-pointed star, their edges connected by a ring, each overlapping space filled with runes. Zaphrriyah stood at its center whence her dance had begun. She dropped her blades, embedding them into the wood at her feet.

  "So you have conquered our little games in the Blackwater," a woman spoke from the darkness, her voice echoing around Zaphrriyah where she could not see. "Is that why you have summoned me? To congratulate you on your petite achievement – is that it?"

  "Your blessing would be much appreciated, sister Hellawes."

  "The only thing I have for you are curses, Zaphry." A pair of white dots peered out from the darkness, staring her down. "Just because you have mastered meditation in the Blackwater does not change anything. I am still opposed to your departure, as I'm sure my sisters are too. It is much too soon. You are still a child, a toddler, a foetus. Hell, you haven't even mastered your own craft yet, Zaphry."

  "Let the cards speak for me."

  The ghoulish white dots in the night contemplated her. Softened. "Fine. I shall amuse you. Let us see what the cards have to say of your destiny."

  A pair of thin, ashen hands swiftly struck out from the dark and grabbed Zaphrriyah. The fingers of her hands were withered black, and from this darkness extended wisping tendrils that snaked around Zaphrriyah’s arms, latching onto her tight, siphoning out her blood. Hellawes released her and turned the black wisps carrying Zaphrriyah's blood around her hands, bending and compressing them together. Then she spread her hands apart, and a wave of fiery, blood-pink cards burst out between them, soaring from her hands into the darkness around them, where they circled around Zaphrriyah, shuffling amongst themselves as they illuminated the darkness like candles with their blood fire.

  Hellawes was behind her. Zaphrriyah turned around and was immediately forced to sit. The Witch opposite to her sat with one leg crossed and the other perched, her dark wine hair flowing out the hood of her ghastly robe that mended into the night. White pupils peered at her in pitch black sclera. Her dark, grey skin was covered in similar patterns and runes to Zaphrriyah, but instead of being red from blood, they were shiny and silvery. Mercury.

  "I trust you still remember how this works."

  "Of course."

  "Very well."

  Hellawes gestured with her hand, and three cards drifted onto the splintered wood of the stump between them. The backs of the cards were all the same, inscribed with an eye in the center of an eight-pointed star. The material of the card was a wisping smoke of darkness.

  "Your past. The Page of Cups. Reversed." Hellawes closed her eyes gently. When they opened again, even the white of her pupils were gone, and all was taken by the darkness of night. "A lost lamb. She did not know who she was. What she is. From the moment the eyes of the world opened to behold, all they saw was darkness and suffering. It is a cruel world. She did not belong here. Nowhere is safe. Nothing is kind. You were all you got, and you were nothing." Her eyes closed again, and when they opened, they were back to normal - or as normal as they could ever be. "True and lucid. I trust you understand well enough what the card meant."

  "The past is the least important. It may have shaped me, but it does not define who I am. Please proceed, sister."

  "Your present. The Eight of Pentacles. Upright. An aspiring apprentice. She wishes to learn all she can. Vigilance, focus, and will. No distractions, no mistakes. She has poured blood and sweat into the betterment of her craft, and she is very nearly there, but not yet. Her blades need sharpening, her skills need honing, and her mind needs opening." Ghoulish white eyes blinked. "The very reason my sisters and I all agree that it is still too soon for you to depart on your crusade."

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  "There is still the future. The card that shall determine my fate in this matter."

  White pupils narrowed in scrutiny. "Before I continue, tell me, what is it you felt in the Blackwater that drove you to these lengths?"

  "It isn't something I felt in the Blackwater, sister. I've had this feeling for a long time. The Blackwater only told me that today is as good as any day to begin my crusade."

  "And what is this feeling you speak of, Zaphry?"

  "I do not know."

  Hellawes smiled faintly. Then her eyes closed, and when they opened, it was a storm of darkness. "As above, so below. Slayer of Sinners. Bane of Gods. She is unbound, untethered, unrestrained. She is limitless. She is primordial. The bottomless sky of Blackwater shall run red with blood. The winds of change blow at her back, the tides of war rage in her wake, the flames of hell burn from her blades, and at the end of her liberation, the loam of love await her. Desire, strength and truth. Should she conquer herself, so shall she conquer the world." Those empty, black eyes closed, and even after they returned to normal, Hellawes remained quietly pensive. "Upright. The Magician."

  "May I have your blessings, sister?" Zaphrriyah asked calmly.

  "Yes. Yes ... of course. Vigilance, focus and will, sister Zaphrriyah." Hellawes gestured for the cards circling them in the darkness, and they coalesced into a single deck at her hand. "May you strike fierce and unseen through the night."

  "Thank you, sister." Zaphrriyah reached out for the deck of cards. The blood fire lining the cards melted into her skin and its wisping darkness swiveled around her wrist.

  White eyes blinked slowly, and Hellawes vanished into the darkness. Its mass retreated from the clearing, back into the woods, where it became shadows of the Pines. The Gloom illuminated the clearing once more and snow was falling.

  Zaphrriyah got to her feet, dislodging her blades from the stump as the blood in the wood slithered up her ankles and back inside her skin. She hopped off the stump, sauntering into the Woods once more.

  The Woods were not empty. Far from it. Nor was it quiet. Winds howled through Pine needles, and with it, a chorus of chittering, croaking and crying. The Beasts here in the Woods were violent, but they knew when they were preying or being preyed upon. Most of the time, at least. These Beasts were violent. The laws of nature did not quite apply to them. But Zaphrriyah was not prey. Never. They should have known.

  She sensed them prowling in the shadows around her, stalking, waiting for the right moment to strike. They were thirsting for blood. Her blood. She picked up the pace, bringing her swift stride to a run. There were two following her, three now, and more were coming. This was not normal, even for such violent Beasts.

  The first leapt out from a Pine behind her. It was a wolfish beast, with thick, rough grey fur and a long snout full of terrifying fangs, but its limbs were far larger and longer than any wolf should ever have. Zaphrriyah did not flinch at the Beast's attack, swinging her khukuri with the strength of her triceps and slashing straight into the Beast's neck, slicing it open from its clavicle to the end of its long jaw. She stabbed her blade again into the Beast's chest, holding it in place as she plunged her other blade into the cut she'd made in its neck, pushing deeper and deeper, carving past its lungs and clawing out its heart, still pouring with blood. She released the Beast, plucking its heart off her blade, throwing her blades into its carcass as she took its massive heart in both hands, lifting it up over her mouth and squeezed.

  Blood poured into her mouth, its thick, metallic richness washing over her tongue and down her throat. The scent of blood was sweltering in the cold air. The floodgates to a bloodbath were swung wide open. Promise of a slaughter ensued.

  Dozens of beasts of every warped and wretched shape and size, horned, thorned, winged or limbless lunged forth from the darkness upon her like shadows and phantoms of nightmares.

  Blood flowed fast and hot. Zaphrriyah discarded the dried husk of the Beast's leathery heart and dropped low to her knees, taking her blades back into hand as she slid across the snow, raising both blades, slicing through the bellies of those that dared to pounce at her. Her shawl billowed in her wake, drinking up all the blood that spilled as more Beasts dropped dead by her blades. Springing back to her feet, she brought both blades together, cutting into another monstrous Beast at its long, gaunt waist and torso. Her blades weren’t sharp enough – or maybe she wasn't strong enough – Zaphrriyah couldn't cut through the Beast and her blades got stuck. The beast was a creature akin to harts, with a head that was a skull sprouting horns like a bouquet of bony daggers, which also possessed long, nimble arms with knives for claws. It mauled into her shoulder. The cut was deep, slashing through muscles and tendons down to the bone. Zaphrriyah did not react. She held her blades firm as she lifted her leg and kicked at the head of another Beast that had attacked from her flank, using the momentum to bite steel deeper into the beast's torso, but her blades cut no further. Through the strength and tautness in her body and the velocity of her momentum, she swung the Beast of Harts with herself into another Beast, using the opportunity to dislodge her blades and reposition, finding a clean cut across either side of the Beast’s neck where she cleaved it into pieces.

  Her shoulder had healed, the cut stitching itself back together fiber by fiber.

  Blades freed once more, she dashed into a pirouette of sharp blades, dismembering all those that dared to challenge her path. Upon landing, she leapt immediately back into the air, flipping backwards as a hulking, winged Beast plunged down from the high canopies of the Pines, its talons digging deep into the snow where she had just been. It glared at her with its feathery head. It had a circular, pale face in the center of its otherwise black and feather-sprouting head, with a beak filled with jagged teeth, a thick barbed tongue, and giant red and yellow eyes that swirled in rings of its color. It shrieked, batting its wings furiously as Zaphrriyah sprinted towards it, jumping onto it as the winged Beast took off, stabbing both her blades into its back. She could feel the sharpness in this cut. It wasn't that this beast was any frailer than the previous. It was the technique. The focus that made this cut good. She adjusted her grip and tore the Beast’s wings off, crouching over its back as it began to fall, before hacking one blade through the back of its neck, into its head and vaulting off its falling body onto the next.

  The slaughter continued. The snow bled red. The bodies far behind her were already beginning to bury with snow. The hordes of Beasts were still as dense as ever, scrambling and shoving their way over each other for a chance to taste her flesh, a chance that would mean their demise. Their numbers were merely a chore. Although they were different beasts, the slaughter did not discriminate. Heads, hearts, throats, limbs and viscera. With twin khukuri, it was only a matter of vigilance, focus and will. There was a rhythm in the flow of blood. Of hers and theirs. It allowed her to see where she had no eyes, react when she did not know why, and strike true with every stroke of her blades. It was the Touch of Blood.

  Silence.

  Zaphrriyah had hardly noticed. The Woods had gone quiet. Though winds still whistled through needles, that was all. Around her laid the ruined necropolis of her massacre, soaking in blood and gore, awaiting the snow to bury their remains and the Pines to take them. There was not a drop of blood on her skin. The runes remained just as she had painted them. The blades of her khukuri with their deep grooves had bled back to their clean, silvery steel. She relaxed, breaths slowing down, muscles loosening. The Beasts weren't anything difficult to kill, but it had been a while since she last dealt with so many at once, especially so many that were dead set on murdering her. It wasn't normal, but she had seen it coming.

  Zaphrriyah had only ever been taught one path to leave the Woods, and this was the path that would take her directly to the sacred grounds of her crusade. This was her first time walking down this path. Follow the white butterflies. Camille had left them for her. They were snowflakes that did not fall, but flutter in the direction she was meant to go. They were as intricate as any snowflake, only larger, resembling beautiful monarch butterflies. Or so she was told. Zaphrriyah had never seen a real butterfly before.

  The path was clearing up. There were no more Pines ahead. It was a clearing that led out of the Woods. A clearing bare even of snow. Ahead of it, was a steep, downhill slope that opened to a vast, endless field of whiteness. And far, far ahead in this endless field of snow, far, far out of sight, was the sacred grounds where her crusade would take place. It was a breathtaking sight, the grandness of total desolation, the knowing of her destiny, the start of her crusade.

  And then there was Aphrodisia.

  She was waiting for her in the middle of the clearing, leaning stoically against the monumental hunk of steel that was her Evorsor. The great sword was taller than her, wedged deep into the black soot of the clearing, and Aphrodisia stood as a goddess. Her body was carved of bronze, her hair a flowing river of molten gold that draped over her shoulders and down past her hips. She wore golden gauntlets and greaves that were engraved with meticulous embroideries. The rest of her dark, bronze skin was covered with patterns and runes inked in gold. Her rosemary-gold eyes stared down at Zaphrriyah as she approached. A grin spread upon her lips, revealing rows of sharp, pointed teeth. She leaned away from her Evorsor, uncrossing her arms as she folded her hands behind her back, bending down to face Zaphrriyah.

  "Always a pleasure to see you, darling. You look positively killing this day. Did you enjoy the little warm up?"

  "You could have done better. I trust you're here to stop me?"

  "Stop you? Oh gods, no – just who can possibly stop you, darling? Evidently not our sisters."

  "Dare I ask whether you're here to offer me your blessings, Sia?"

  "Oh, yes, I wouldn't let you go without it. But before that, I'd love one last spar with my favorite little sister."

  "Your Evorsor?"

  Aphrodisia scoffed. "Not a chance. But you may use your blades if you wish."

  "To the ground then."

  "Why just the ground? Don't you want to get down and dirty with me, darling?"

  "I won't leave if I do."

  "That's the point, darling. You're not leaving."

  Zaphrriyah threw her blades into the ground. "To submission."

  Aphrodisia's grin widened, and she inhaled deeply. "Violence. Oh, how much I love. So mote it be."

  Zaphrriyah raised her guard. Aphrodisia languidly brought the back of her knuckles to meet it, then took three paces back to one side of the Evorsor. Zaphrriyah did the same.

  Vigilance, focus and will. Heart beating faster. Breaths pacing shorter.

  She dashed towards Aphrodisia, throwing a feint jab for her liver, which the goddess ignored completely, blocking Zaphrriyah's roundhouse kick with a single arm and deflecting her following combo of rapid strikes with ease, dodging the last one. Zaphrriyah knew she fucked up. She didn’t even see it coming. She just knew how much it was about to hurt.

  Aphrodisia ducked to the side, gauntlet clenched tight, shooting straight into Zaphrriyah's stomach. Thankfully, she was light on her feet. Otherwise, the strike would have penetrated her whole and ripped her guts out. It sent her hurtling away to the edge of the clearing, where she finally found the right way up and dragged herself across the ground to a stop before colliding into the trunk of a Pine, coughing blood and acid. There was no time replenish the air in her lungs. Zaphrriyah scrambled into a roll right as Aphrodisia surged at her, fist plummeting like a meteor. Her gauntlet struck the bark of the Pine where Zaphrriyah's head had been a moment ago, splintering the thick bark down to its raw wood and cratering the entire face of its massive trunk. Pine needles showered upon them as Aphrodisia pirouetted to pursue Zaphrriyah, unleashing a perilous combo of attacks that had Zaphrriyah dodging for her life. Each punch sent shockwaves through the air as they traveled, and every kick whipped with gusts of sharp wind that extended well past the admirable length of her legs.

  There were absolutely no openings for a counterattack – if Zaphrriyah even dared to try. There was hardly even opportunity for dodging. That would have to be the opening. Zaphrriyah had believed she could match Aphrodisia long enough to at least trade a few decent blows, but that was greatly overestimating her power. She took Aphrodisia's next blow head on, running into it as her oblique ruptured from the impact, spilling blood and viscera which she used as cover, leaping up through the veil of gore to sink her claws into Aphrodisia's neck, her fingers and nails reinforced by coagulated blood. But Aphrodisia's neck was harder than steel.

  "Mm, harder, darling," Aphrodisia moaned, smirking as she stared at Zaphrriyah hanging from her throat.

  Zaphrriyah scowled, wrapping her legs around Aphrodisia's waist and spinning off from her, kicking her heel into the side of the goddess’s head. Aphrodisia didn't flinch. She didn't even move as Zaphrriyah pummeled her abdomen with a flurry of relentless strikes that bled the skin off her knuckles until the bare bones were sharpened with crystallized blood.

  A scratch. Enough to have made Aphrodisia feel something. Zaphrriyah had never been sure whether Aphrodisia was truly invincible or if it was just an illusion. The goddess herself had playfully denied it, but their fellow sisters seemed to have been on the consensus that she was. But now Zaphrriyah knew for certain that wasn't true. She can bleed. She can be hurt. She can be defea-

  Aphrodisia front kicked Zaphrriyah to the ground, grabbing her face as she bounced upon impact and lifting her up into the air where she was skewered by a gauntlet through her belly that tore out all the viscera she had left inside. Aphrodisia released her from the clutches of her gauntlet, and as Zaphrriyah fell, she was kicked out of the air, completely severing her lower half. Down on the black soot of the clearing, Zaphrriyah willed her body back together, but the kick had shattered her lumbar bone, so for the next half an hour or so, all she could do was lie there.

  Aphrodisia sat down beside her dismembered body in the pooling puddle of blood.

  "I'm still ... going," Zaphrriyah rasped through sputtering blood.

  "Why, of course, darling."

  "...what?"

  "Must I lecture you on every detail, Zaphry?" Aphrodisia sighed. "Save your breath, darling. You passed my final test. Your will is indomitable. Admirably so. Even if you may not be fit in strength and skill for such a great crusade as of now, I believe you're ready through the sheer power of will alone. As ready as you will ever be under our wing, anyway. Your sisters and I have already taught you all we can, and in case you haven't noticed, we aren't exactly the best teachers."

  "…"

  "The teachers I had – if you could call them that – were my cruel mistresses and masters. It was only here in the abyss that I found my sisters. You, Camille and Hellawes. Before we had each other, we were each alone in the great, hateful world – the very one you are about to embark upon yourself – but it was what we found out in that world on our own that made us the Witches we are. You're lucky to have us, and we're lucky to have you. Even though we aren’t perfect, we’re a family. The only one we’ve got, the only one we can ever have. I think that's the reason we're so afraid to let you go. Our own selfish reasons. We cannot follow you out the Woods on this crusade, Zaphrriyah. You will be alone. But I know you have the will to persist. I know that whatever you may face out there on this crusade, you will never yield. You never have. And frankly, I don't think you even know the concept."

  "Hahahck," Zaphrriyah coughed.

  "I won't be seeing you off," Aphrodisia said decisively, getting up to her feet and sauntering towards her great sword. "I'll probably change my mind and make you stay with us forever, be it whole or in severed pieces. Vigilance, focus and will, darling. May the blood of your enemies wet your blades." Aphrodisia pulled her great sword out of the ground and hefted its massive blade over her shoulder. Then she jumped and vanished into the high canopies of the Woods.

  Zaphrriyah lay there in the black ashen grounds of the clearing a while longer until the flesh buds wriggling at her belly matured into fibers that extended towards her lower half and reconnected it back onto her, filling with new blood and viscera, coalescing at her back where her spine had been shattered, temporarily filling the bone marrow with coagulating blood. Then she arose, sitting up, bringing a knee to lean against as she gazed ahead at the distant speck of the sacred grounds in the vast fields of snow.