PROLOGUE
A shadow stood beneath the pale orange glowof a sconce,wiping off remnants of blood on a sharp blade whose silver hilt was carved in the shape of a flower petal.
It was past midnight, and darkness had swallowed the rest of the manor whole. Inside the vast room, seven glittering flowers stood afloat in their own glass cases atop a wooden shelf. Beneath them,the shadow placed the now-clean dagger inside a velvet box,the blade glinting in the dim light.
Stacks of books covered in dust lined the rest of the shelves---grimoires and journals, yellowed parchments covered in scrawny hand writing. In front of the shelf,a mahogany desk drowned in vials of ivory and indigo liquids, crystal balls both big and small, and battered manila folders seemed to have been taken out of the top drawer in haste.