High on a grand ash tree, a tiny shadow sat on a thick branch and hummed to herself. Looking down at the main gates of the palace, she took a tiny box out of her pouch and scooped out some white ointment. Carefully she spread it over her rope burns, disregarding the pain as she studied the scene below.

Sixteen guards in red and silver now inspected everyone who passed. Closing her eyes, Cybelline sighed and leaned back onto the tree, "I guess I can wait a little longer."

Dusk had turned into night and as midnight approached, the women of the palace became more and more desperate to find their prey. Cybelline awakened to hear the sounds of running feet and the voices of women urging their companions to run faster. Cybelline's eyes popped opened and she swung down from her tree, heading to the little fountain in the middle of the court yard.

Reaching into her pouch, she pulled out a little blue glass bottle. Scooping up handfuls of water and mixing it with the contents of the bottle, she scrubbed her face and hair vigorously.

The rough dark skin became much paler in the moonlight. Brown hair that was the color of mud now became jet black. Cybelline carefully peeled off the remnants of tape from her eyelids and chin. Sharp, angular features became softer as her face returned to its original form.

Finally, she took a little vial from her pouch and carefully dripped a few drops of a solution Solara had made. She waited until they stopped stinging and opened them.

Grey eyes had turned green, the shade of grass in spring.

If they saw the little page now, they would've had a hard time recognizing him, for everything had changed. She tousled her hair, bent down, and collected a few small rocks.

Climbing back on the tree, she waited. She watched as a few women ran by and shook her head, too thin, to big, too short. But then, her now green eyes brightened.

Two girls giggled as they approached the little well.

"Where is Lord Killian? It's almost midnight!" One girl said as she fanned herself, her green dress fanned out as she sat on a small bench, "If only I could see his face once more."

The other girl, obviously her servant, fetched a little silver ladle from her pouch and began to pour her lady some water from the fountain, "My lady, have patience, we'll find him."

Cybelline rolled her eyes, were all other men in the world dead for everyone to talk about that jerk like he was some kind of divine gift.

"Even if I have to tear apart all the other women who stand in my way, I will get to him." The girl declared with a smile, "Only the best in the world for me. He is my type, those lips, that hair, those strange but beautiful eye---"

THUNK...THUNK. Two pebbles flew out in the darkness like bullets and struck both women on the head, causing them to black out almost immediately.

Cybelline jumped down from the tree and walked over to the women.

Lady Lettie's red wig now lay on the grass, its heavy bangs and thick strawberry curls gave her an idea.

With a evil grin, she took the wig and began to yank the clothes of the lady.

A few minutes later, Cybelline checked her reflection in the fountain.

Gone was the black haired girl with the storm grey eyes, in her stead stood a slender green-eyed girl in a green gown, her flaming red hair curling around her little figure. She had transformed into a proper little lady.

Cybelline raised her skirts to reveal crystal shoes and clucked. Precious stones lined the hand-embroidered shoes. Diamonds stitched into the silver made the entire creation exquisite. Yes, she need to make sure to keep these with her, they would sell well on the market. She couldn't help but smile, thinking about the life ahead of her.

A little house by the lake, a little swing on an old apple tree, a gaggle of ducks to keep her company. She thanked the unconscious lady for her good fortunes and went on her way.

Her velvet emerald skirts of the fleur de lis style swished as she set off towards the main gates. There was a long line of women who gathered there, in their finest gowns.

"Why are we all here, ladies?" Cybelline asked as she walked up to the end of the line.

Two girls turned around and seeing that she was as richly dressed as they, one replied, "Lord Killian's men are guarding this gate. We think he may show up here." She looked at the sides of the wide road enviously, "Those without magic have to stand while the lady mages are all sitting there with their servants." Indeed, Cybelline looked, to the sides were women in raised seats elegantly eating grapes fed to them by their servants.

"Oria, hush!" The other girl turned to her friend, "If they hear you talking about them like that they'll hurt us. No one will do anything."

Cybelline was only half-listening, as an idea had formed in her head, "Are you sure that those are his men? All of them?"

The girls nodded, "Of course, only they can wear the saber tooth emblem. It's the highest honor in the land."

Cybelline grinned and said in a loud whisper, "I heard a rumor that Lord Killian has left the palace and is now in the city." The girls looked at her with sudden, razor sharp interest. A few others turned around at the sound of the young general's name, Cybelline continued, "What's more, I heard that he's injured, so he hasn't gotten very far."

The was a moment of silence and then the crowd rushed towards the main gate that was closest to the city. Chairs were upturned as the lady mages readied their magic and pushed their way through the crowd. Cybelline grinned slowed and watched as the women rushed forward.

Guarding the gates were hardened men of war who had seen bloodshed and war. They had faced the demons of the battlefield and had crawled their way out of hell.

They would gladly go back rather than face the oncoming horde of well-dressed women who all demanded they move out of their way, or suffer the consequences.

"One at a time, my lady! You must take off your mask for inspection!" The men tried to reason with them.

"Insolent! My beauty is not for your eyes, oaf!" One little girl said before promptly stomping on his foot and breaking his big toe. The soldier grunted but held his position, beads of perspiration dripping down from his forehead. The other women began to push forward.

"SILENCE!" A roar like a lion sounded from above. The women turned and saw a tall man walking towards them. Jacen glared down at the women, "Why are you gathered here like this?"

"We heard that my lord Killian is in the city!" One of the women cried, "Let us through! Time is of the essence!"

Jacen opened his mouth but his voice was soon swallowed by the enraged roars of lionesses who rushed at the gate.

Legend was that if Lord Killian's men were guarding the gates to a city, then even a ghost could not pass. They were the cream of the crop, the best of the best Enemies trembled and kings mourned when they hear that Lord Killian's army was after them.

But tonight, their honor would be put to the test. So would their toes.

Legend also said that on the battle field Lord Killian's men were the hardest to injure or kill. Even on the worst battlefields, only ten or twenty would die or be hurt.

Tonight, more than a hundred of his men would end up in the infirmary. Lord Killian would forever remember tonight as one of the worst losses in his troop's history, to his utter chagrin.

Cybelline walked away from the gate as a shrill whistle sounded, and more soldiers ran to quell the chaos. Now that most of the resources would be concentrated at this gate, the other ones would be much easier pass through.

She spied a black mask encrusted with pearls, that hung from the waist of another girl running for the gate and took it easily. Tying the little black satin mask around her face, she now was like the hundreds of other faceless women who roamed the palace.

Thirty minutes later, she arrived at one of the side gates. Here the crowd was a little thinner, respectable and more married Lords and Ladies were being handed into their carriages.

Cybelline took out the magical pouch she had stolen from Lady Lettie and fished out some coins. She walked to a line of nondescript carriages that were for palace use, "I wish to hire a carriage that will take me into the city, I heard Lord Killian is there and I must get to him." She picked a carriage and reached for the door.

"Oh?" A voice drawled behind her. Cybelline froze. That damn voice of the man who had kicked her off the tower was now behind her.

"I didn't know I was in the city." He said, "So I wondered why a lady such as yourself is spreading such lies."

How did he know she would be here?

His voice sounded again, "Take off the mask."

She took a deep breath, and without turning around, demanded angrily, "Why does my lord speak to me in such an angry tone? I was only telling others what I heard about from a little page."

They stood apart in the moonlight bathed in the glow of the firelit road, their flickering shadows drawn out on the cobblestones, dancing to the cacophony rhythm of the night.

"If you don't take off the mask, I will come and take it myself." He said lazily. Her back stiffened, and the hand that was already on the carriage door slowly lowered back to her side.

"My lord, if I take off the mask, what will you do for me?" Her voice was light, "You have accused me of lying, and I am woman of honor."

He raised an eyebrow, "If I'm wrong, what do you want?"

"What any woman wants. You hand in marriage."

His arm was crossed and there was a sardonic smile on his lips, he said nothing.

She sighed, "Then perhaps my lord will accept my handkerchief? It would be a great favor."

She turned around and faced him.

Green eyes met green eyes. The sardonic smile that always seemed to be on his lips faded like the color of leaves.

Red hair and green eyes, all that he could see with the black mask covering half of her face.

He stared at the girl, for it was unmistakably a girl that stood before him. Her slender form, though still of a child had already the blossoming hints of womanhood. Her skin, pale like alabasters was painted a soft, glowing gold in the light.

That little child who had saved him, she should have faded from his memory all those years ago. But all these years he had searched for her shadow on this earth only to fail time and time again.

He didn't know what she would look like after all these years and was desperately afraid that even if she walked past him, he wouldn't know it was her.

This little girl in front of him was the wrong age and he couldn't even see half of her face. Her hair and eyes were the wrong shade but why couldn't he shake that feeling?

Was it the way she stood and the way her lips curved? The way she tilted her head in question? Was it the way that her eyes seemed to have frozen Time in his tracks so that everything grew still?

Past and present seemed to fold in onto itself as he stood, gazing at the green eyed girl.

"Who are you?" He asked, his voice quiet and for the first time of the night, without any pretense or sarcasm, "Tell me your name."

"Of course, my lord", She said with a curtsy and approached him, her eyes sparkling, "But first..."

She raised a leg and kneed him with all her might in an extremely sensitive area.

Had Killian been thinking of anything else, anyone else, he would have easily blocked it. Also, Killian was an honorable young man who had never dealt with a noble lady that would dream of kicking a man...there.

Unfortunately for him, Cybelline was an unscrupulous spy with no compunction of using every dirty trick in the book. In fact, she had probably even written half of said book in her long career.

He doubled over in pain as she whispered, "But first...my lord can go to hell." She admitted, it was a little vindictive, but he did kick her off a tower. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth -- that was not Cybelline's style. If anyone even tried to take an eye or tooth from her, she would bury them ten feet underground and then burn down their house.

Cybelline's grin was wicked as she placed a hand on his should and pushed him down hard.

His knees sank onto the cobblestone floor and Killian grunted in pain, his face a mask of the most unbearable pain. She shrieked, "Someone help! Lord Killian is here and he's injured!"

Her voice seemed to carry far and wide, and the women who had been roaming the palace like wolf packs zeroed in on it. Killian's face went from wine red to ghost white.

She took her handkerchief and tucked it neatly in his collar, "Hope you enjoy the rest of your night. Good luck with all those women." He looked up at her, still in unimaginable pain and rage. She turned to go but a large hand gripped her foot.

She looked down and saw that Killian hand grabbed her slipper. She growled but knew that getting him to let go would be impossible even in the state he was in. Gritting her teeth she eased her foot out of the priceless shoe and glared at the immobile man. Jerk, that was going to pay for half of her new house. But now was not the time to argue, she had to go.

In the chaos, she took a courier's horse and sped out of the gate, aided by the distracted guards and hordes of screaming women, her little figure disappearing into the city as the clock struck midnight.