Amalaine strode thoughtfully through the silver and black gardens, the crisp dew mirroring the rising moon in picturesque detail. The towering rose thorns, cast in eerie silver, crimson and black shades from the blood red orb hanging low in the night sky. Shadow and form melded into one as the milk skinned figure effortlessly glided along the unworthy earth. The soft whisper of rich, warm leaves grew into a silent roar, against the protesting oak branches and showers of dry rain. A solitary crackling leaf drifted down and settled upon the ground before her feet, large eyes followed its careless movement, softly dancing on the wind as it danced along the ground. A soft and almost inaudible sigh escaped the blood red lips of the young seraphim as her name was called out in the crisp night. With a faint smile she turned towards the faceless guest. The warm light of the ballroom warmed her flesh as she raised her beautiful hawk-winged half mask to her porcelain face once again. The hysteric flurry of colour and flesh greeted her jade eyes as the duchesses, nobles and counts twirled and merged in a sickening sea of vivid colours and movement. No breath. Feeling claustrophobic in the over bearing hall she quickly pushed through the pressing crowd.

The grand Masquerade continued about its ritual formalities and pleasantries while the pale girl felt her way through the dark stone passage ways and high arched halls. Cold fingers nimbly seeking cold stone. Like a new born babe seeks the warm and comfort of its mothers breast. The silence was whispering its secrets down, deep into the stone shafts of the earth. Finally she was alone with her shadows, old memories and cold silence. The whisper was a roar in her ears; SILENCE. She attentively probed the empty space with her curious gaze, straining her eyes in the darkness for a glimpse of something that hid there. Being met only with tretcherous abyss where monsters might lie in wait.