On the continent of Madreachia, a stormy night was raging over a small village that lay in the outskirts of the country. All the doors shut tight, and no one roamed the streets, quiet except for the thunder and rain.

  Even further out, on a hill overlooking the village sat an old home. A cobble path led to it, though it wasn't maintained, and the home didn't look like anyone lived in it. That, however, wasn't true as an old woman resided in this old dilapidated house. She was once well known all over the land as a treasure hunter and relic collector. Though those days were long past, after an accident in one treasure hunt she lost her eyesight. A true tragedy for someone like her, a woman who made it her life's mission to see and collect the world's beauty. A beauty now only ever visible in her dreams, now she spends her life going through the motions of cleaning the various artifacts and treasures that she couldn't see.

  This night however, something was about to change. Lights could be seen approaching the home, flickering waving torches. Hushed voices whispered between the dancing flames. As the lights disappeared beneath the overhang casting shadows onto the porch, the whispering stopped. A moment or two passed in silence before a shattering sound broke the quiet.

  "Hey man, be more careful!" A voice angrily whispered as the door creaked open.

  "Yeah man, she blind not deaf." Another voice spoke up.

  "Geez, give me a break let's just grab some shit and go." Their footsteps entered the foyer and the door closed behind them.

  Though at that moment another sound was heard, a door opening. And then a voice.

  "Hello, is someone there?" The old woman's footsteps approached the foyer as well.

  "Damnit, well might as well make her tell us what's valuable." The man who'd broken the window spoke up, he was dressed in shaggy tan pants with ripped leg cuffs. He had on a plain white shirt and a bandana covering one of his eyes.

  "Yeah, whatever." The second voice spoke up again, a man wearing a trench coat with one of the long sleeves pulled up to reveal a tattoo of a skull with a knife through it. As he spoke he pulled out a knife.

  "Dumbass." The last voice just sounded exasperated, he was wearing adventurer style gear, leather armor and a hood.

  The trench coat silently approached the entrance to the room and stood with his knife ready, while the other two nodded. As the old woman entered the room trench coat grabbed her and put the knife to her neck. "Point us to the most valuable things you have!" He growled, pressing the knife till blood dripped down her neck.

  "Oh dear, please calm down. You don't need to do all that." She spoke sweetly without alarm.

  "Tell me now or I'll kill you." The trench coat yelled threateningly.

  "Sadly son, there's not much value in my collection. It's all things that I found beautiful, they're collector's items. Selling them would prove very difficult." The older woman lamented with a terrible look on her face, though her cloudy eyes didn't really focus on anything.

  "The hell you mean?" The bandanna exclaimed in surprise.

  "What about this thing?" The hooded figure asked as he picked up a golden mirror. "It looks like gold."

  "It's plated, so not worth very much." The older woman explained. "Though it was once owned by an obscure prin-"

  "Hey what about this glowing rock in the glass case." The bandanna cut her off as he reached out to lift the case off a glowing red stone.

  "Oh, that's a demon core, they're extremely rare as most demons had their cores destroyed to kill them or melted into the earth when the demon king was killed four centur-"

  "Value! How much is it worth, I don't care about it's damn history." Bandana exclaimed as he broke the case, it was sealed in when he couldn't figure out how to take it off.

  "Well, once again only a collector would purchase it at a high price. On the market it's worth is like dirt." The woman explained feebly, turning everyone's attention back to her. The stone had begun to pulse softly.

  "That's it, I'm done. Hey Kyle hand me that rope!" Trench coat called out to hood who was apparently named Kyle. Kyle nodded and handed him the rope. "Hold her guys." Trench coat exclaimed as he began to tie the rope into a knot, then he looped it around her head as they held her. She struggled but wasn't strong enough.

  "Come on boys, this isn't necessary. Please stop this." She pleaded as the other end was tossed over a rafter. The Red Stone had started flashing, moving from a calm pulse to a faster and faster blinking.

  "Maybe a bit of time up in the rafters will jog your memory of the treasures your hiding." Trench coat exclaimed before pulling the rope down, the woman was pulled into the air. She began coughing as she pulled on the rope with all her strength to try and keep a bit of air.

  "Alright, we'll have to just toss everything into the carriage. Hey Ted, grab that chair and put it on the ground beneath her they should assume suicide." The trench coat finally named his second companion. Ted nodded and approached the chair sitting in the corner of the room, it had some items sitting on it. He brushed them all off onto the floor with a sweep of his hand.

  It was at that moment that the crystal flashed one final time and light exploded out of it blinding anyone looking at it. It rose into the air and started to grow and morph before taking a humanoid shape, as the shape solidified a tail grew out with an arrow like tip. The head tilted back as hair cascaded down and horns curled out. The body formed into that of a girl around the age of twenty with a modest chest and pale skin. Her eyes opened and pure black looked out, after blinking two red pupils appeared and focused. As her feet touched the ground her hand shot up and manipulated the mana, wrapping her naked body a red swirling mana that turned into clothes.

  A knee-length skirt, a collared shirt, and a lab coat. Her demonic tail twitched like a cat's and ruffled the hem of her coat as the light finally died.

  The first thing she saw was the woman, then the bandits, magic formed into her hands as black daggers appeared, they looked like liquid, like oil. She immediately leaped forward and stabbed Kyle in the side of the head. As she let go of the dagger it evaporated leaving only a hole as he face planted like a puppet with it's strings cut. She then turned a twirl of her fingers created another dagger and she slung it at the trench coat who was stunned in surprise. He swung his knife in response, but like cutting through water it passed through the black knife.

  Stolen story; please report.

  The demon girl's knife just reformed and embedded itself in his forehead. She then turned and ducked under Ted's swing before elbowing him in the back of the head and stomping his back. While holding him down she threw the last dagger at the rope, the older woman hit the ground with a thud as the silver haired demon panted visibly, blood dripped from her nose. Forming one final dagger she fell to her knees and stabbed him through the back of the head.

  After catching her breath she stumbled over to the old woman and helped her to her feet. "I'm sorry, I didn't have the energy to catch you." The demon rasped with her newly created vocal cords.

  "It's just fine dear, thank you for saving me. What's your name?" The older woman spoke kindly as she softly rubbed her throat.

  "You can call me Sariel." The demon girl smiled as she helped the woman to a chair to sit down.

  "What an interesting name, reminds me of the angelic dialect. Ha are you an angel dear." The woman asked with a smile and a laugh.

  "No ma'am, I just happened to pass through and help you out. I don't know the origins of my name." Sariel explained, her eyes softened as she recognized the woman was blind.

  "Ah, well that's sad. I'm old, and can no longer do what I love best. It was a random thought but meeting one of the rarest races would be a wonderful final farewell. A demon or an angel, but it's unlikely that either would appear here anytime soon." The woman spoke slowly and softly while thinking, her wrinkled face showed a sense of kindness. Her hair was like cotton, and she wore a dress with a shawl over it.

  "True, it would be a very rare encounter. An angel would be a memory worthy of taking into the afterlife. . . But a demon, they're dangerous and bloodthirsty. Rather than a memory to take with you, they'd send you there early." Sariel said with a strained smile thinking of her own brethren and the war. She then wondered the time gap and based on her words she assumed the war had ended already. "Since the war ended demons disappeared so meeting one would be very difficult anyways."

  "Yes, no one has seen a demon for four hundred years, it would be strange for one to suddenly pop up, and a bad omen of a coming disaster." The older woman spoke seriously this time, "My desire to seek the things that few have ever seen simply clouds the circumstances. Angels only appear when the world is on the verge of collapse and demons only appear on the brink of a new Demon King. Either would be a bad omen for sure."

  "You have a lot of interesting items in this house. I imagine your life was quite the story." Sariel spoke as she bent down and began to wrap the nearest corpse in Mana. A red flame wrapped him and burned brightly, contained inside the mana cocoon.

  "True, I like to think I've lived an adventurous life. Most of the items in the parlor are from my earlier exploits. I didn't search for normal treasures, I was more interested in obscure artifacts from parts of history only lightly documented. I find those things to be so fascinating, though in retrospect, it only makes sense that my collection is worth very little." She smiled even though her words were a bit pessimistic. "But I think that's fine, I never planned to sell any of the items I've collected. I didn't do it for profit after all."

  Sariel moved onto the next corpse as the first turned to ash. "I understand why you can't care for this house too well, but might I ask why the villagers don't help you." Her forehead wrinkled in concentration and sweat dripped down, she ignored it and wiped the blood from her nose.

  "Ah, they avoid this place, some think my home is cursed from the various artifacts. Others think I'm a burden or an eyesore. Most just ignore me." She explained with an unconcerned wave of her hand. Sariel sighed as she sat down for a moment, looking at the last corpse and sniffling.

  "Are you cold dear?" The kind old woman asked as she turned her face towards the voice.

  "Um, no ma'am. I'm fine, it's nothing." Sariel wiped blood away again with a sigh. "What's your name ma'am?" Sariel pulled herself to her feet and began to burn the final corpse.

  "Grace Albany, the last of the Albany family. A noble lineage built on the backs of treasure hunters, hmm, it might be my fault that it's dying though. My treasures were never worth any money and I never took a husband." She laughed softly, everything she did was soft, slow, and quiet.

  "Hmm, well Grace ma'am, I don't have a place to go right now. Would you kindly let this stranger stick around. I'll help you around the house." Sariel offered with a stumble as she stood up feeling light headed. The corpses were gone, and the ash had disappeared already.

  "Of course dear, I'll give you the guest room." Grace nodded and agreed quickly, standing up shakily and taking a moment to steady herself before leading the way.

  Sariel couldn't hide the light smile as she stepped forward to help her walk. "Thank you ma'am."

  The lost Bishop had awoken in a small village, her active presence cast waves across the world. The leader of the seven bishops, Sariel the Bishop of Alchemy, was back. Maxwell shivered, frowning as his red eyes looked up at the moon and a deep frown climbed his pale cheek.

  "You bitch, I knew you survived, you allowed me to kill you too easily." He groaned in annoyance.

  "Ooh, did you feel that! Our leader is back, Maxwell don't worry you know how she is. She doesn't hold grudges, unless you've touched her things. You haven't done that right?" A Jovial voice spoke up and Maxwell turned to look at a vibrant young man with shaggy black hair and bright green eyes. He wore a suit as he stood with a confident smirk.

  "Fucking lap dog." Maxwell growled as he stood up, a blinding flash of black against black exploded out. One was tinged with a red glow the other green. Maxwell had moved in an instant, his fist was caught by Griax and he had blocked Griax's blade.

  "If Sariel desires her position back I will step down and stand behind her again. I think the Bishop's will likely split in two, oh that will be so interesting." Griax laughed as he stepped back and straightened his tie. "I've always wanted to cut your head off and crack it open to figure out where all your terrible personality traits come from. Though until she makes a move I'll continue being passive."

  "A loose cannon, that's all you've been since I killed our leader. Rising and falling, pushing and pulling, like the tide. But the second she appears your eyes get so clear. . . Wait. . . Did you anticipate this? is that why you're- You bastard you're trying to curry favor, you hold a hand in her execution as well." Maxwell exclaimed while slamming his fist into the desk.

  "Come on don't be like that, both our pawns are gonna meet in Gulress. I won't step in to help Skarlet anymore so do whatever you want. I may be pushing things in a direction that Sariel would like however I'm not that kind or concerned. Only a few light taps are necessary after the initial push. I'll be honest though, I really thought that dragon was gonna kill her, tsk." He showed a frown for the first time. "Like seriously, who could have guessed that Alice's daughter was such a gluttonous pushover. She didn't seem too happy to see me though."

  "You killed her mother, you think Beatrice would happily greet you and smile?" Maxwell couldn't help it as his anger subsided and he pressed his hand to his temple.

  "No, not at all. I just didn't expect to meet her at all. I was gonna swoop in and save Skarlet and kill the dragon then give her another push. Things are lightly deviating from my initial plan, but not enough for me to really care." Griax smiled again, seemingly over his passing mood.

  "Hah, if things fall apart for me in Gulress I'll just kill you and then kill Sariel. It's fine to start over even if it takes another four hundred years." Maxwell stated with annoyance.

  "Ah, that sounds delightful!" Griax clapped happily. "Well I definitely need to win now. I'm looking forward to seeing the inside of your head." After leaving those words he turned and walked away, green smoke rose to cover him and he faded, disappearing into that green smoke.

  "Bastard." Maxwell muttered before sitting down, gazing at the moon framed in his window.