A planet, shrouded in darkness, floated motionless in space; the planet’s closest star clouded over with gray mists and the gravity pull weakened. Alas, this was once one of the most prosperous planets in the Milky Way galaxy. However, after the Qualme Reversal had taken over, it didn’t have a chance. Most of the natives of Aralene were but empty shells. The specters, known as talaiths, that now inhabited the planet wandered aimlessly, feasting on the living souls. Very few who dwelt on the surface were anything more than dead capsules.

In the palace of Aralene, a man sat, brooding in a chair overlooking a long table. The dark wooden table was able to seat twelve people, but as of now he was the only one present. His fingers were laced and elbows resting on the cold wood surface. Grey eyes stared across the table, penetrating the empty space before him. Silvery locks of shoulder-length hair slid past his shoulder and hung limply next to his pale, pointed face. The table he sat at was bare, save for a silver candlestick with candles that were near the end of their life. Since they were the main source of light in the room, shadows began to creep along the walls. A fireplace was visible at the end of the table but hadn’t seen a fire for ages.

Sixteen years. Sixteen long, tedious years of scouring the universe and still no sign of those accursed girls. If Graphite hadn’t known otherwise, he would have believed they had been sucked into a black hole or better yet, killed. Graphite knew that they were still alive, somewhere. He could still feel positive energy pulsing from the core of the planet and it absolutely sickened him. But that would soon change. Once the girls were dead and the soul of Aralene was in his hands, it would become tainted with the same black poison that infiltrated all the other planets of the Qualme. Specters could finish off the rest of the Aralenians underground. Finally, this planet would either be suitable for Qualme habitation, or subject to expulsion from the galaxy, annihilation.

A door creaked open, allowing light to pierce the shadows on the walls. Graphite’s gaze flickered over to the door that now stood ajar. He could see the silhouette that was cast upon the wall; His lips twisted upward into a small smirk. He recognized the shadow on the wall as belonging to his apprentice, Xue.

“Come in,” he said, in his usual cold tone.

The boy named Xue walked in slowly, shutting the door behind him. He wore an expression on his face that the grey-eyed man could not read, which was more than likely good news. Xue came up next to Graphite’s chair. The boy was around seventeen or eighteen years old and quite tall. He had grey eyes as well, but his had flecks of gold and blue. Dark brown hair came down just below his shoulders but was pulled back in a que. The candles lit up his face eerily. It was in a solemn voice that Xue spoke next.

“We have found them, Lord Graphite. We have found Alexandra and Oriana.”



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