The Dance Of The Marked.

Chapter 1.

Nevena Collins. A dull name to be sure, but she was no ordinary woman. A witch, born and true, forever cursed to live through the earths suffering. Years beyond years she has lived already, and she has never lost her radiant smile pursed over her plain crimson lips. 

A beautiful, pale sheet of impure snow covers the once lush grass, which has now become as brown as the dirt underneath it. Barely peaking through the dull clouds, the sun makes itself known. Its radiant light causes patches of snow to melt and sink into the ground below. The now mud squelches under Nevena's boots as she walks forward. 

These boots, hand-made by Nevena herself, are a beautiful brown,. Made out of leather that reaches up to her knees to cover her fragile skin from the freezing sheet of snow below her. To cover her pale legs, she wears a pair of leather trousers that fit her form perfectly. On her top half, to keep her torso warm, she wears a thick, furry coat. This coat fits her form just as her lower half does, and keeps her skin perfectly warm. 

A gentle hum escapes into the otherwise empty air as she waddles along the path, just now passing the maiden statue located in the villages main plaza. Of course, she knows the village off by heart, so it didn't take her long to arrive at this point anyhow. Nevena stops in front of a large gate, decorated with a monster like figure and the same maiden standing tall as a statue located not too far from her current position. As she takes her final step, her humming stops, and that signature smile becomes wider. The faces of the creatures decorating the door were missing. Well, that wouldn't stop her. 

Nevena parts her ruby lips as she presses her hand to the stone gate, her cold finger tips caressing its even colder surface. She chuckles softly at the primitive design, but after a moment, simply... Pushes the right hand side to the gate open. She steps forward and moves the the side to squeeze through the gap she made. The witch hums softly to herself, her hands now behind her back, intertwined as if they were lovers holding onto each other for dear life. 

She once again, follows the path, ignoring the area around her and instead focusing on the ground. Nevena, after traversing through the rugged path with ease-even with wearing heels- pulls down the lever to unblock the gate allowing her to enter the Dimitrescu estate. Feeling confident, she walks forward, pushing the doors open and skipping along the path. The 'scarecrows' littering the side of the pathway bothers her not one bit as she focuses on the path leading to the final entrance to the castle. 

Why was she here? Well, she's an accomplice of sorts to Mother Miranda.

After the Ethan Winters Incident, and the near death experience for the lords, she's been sent on a quest to get everyone back in shape. She's already dealt with three of the four; Delaying the inevitable clash with the fourth. The Dimitrescu's were the most shaken up, Especially after losing the fragment of Rosemary Winters and facing the wrath of Mother Miranda after Nevena dealt with Ethan. 

However, Nevena was confident and still is about being able to help. Her job is to merely get everything back on track for the ceremony to take place in a few months. Simple, right? 

With a clear of her throat and a swift exhale, Nevena knocks on the front doors of the Dimitrescu estate. There was no doubt that she was going to have a problem with this one, but she knew she could handle it. After all, the family are people. Just like her. 

The witch waits patiently at the door, swinging back on her heels nonchalantly as she stares down at the plain floor. After a few moments, Nevena looks up. Her sapphire-like iris' land on the figure of someone she wasn't expecting, but welcomed anyhow. The witch's pure white hair flows behind her as a gust of mind blows by. She smiles softly down at the being. A maiden.