Sorry, but most entries were too long to actually include all the males and females in two chapters.... so everyone gets a chapter for their entry by themselves from now on :) Sorry that it makes Magi have so many different parts to it :( Enjoy! 

There were once two sisters who loved each other so – two twin sisters, so be more precise. From the day that they were born, they did everything together – from dancing and laughing to wailing and weeping. Of yes, there were times were they thought each other insufferable, even instances were heated arguments would ensure over the pettiest of things. Yet deep down, they still loved each other, and promised to never let each other go.

When one day, unexpectedly, a great force of evil caused the death of the younger of the two sisters, the older could not bear the sorrow. She was so grief-stricken that more than once, when she lay curled in her bed at night and sobbed silently into her pillow, she would contemplate the notion of suicide. In her mind, she had nothing to live for – her village had been destroyed when she was but a toddler, and her parents murdered. Her twin was all that she had, and death had cruelly taken her last remaining family as well. It felt like the final blow; the last straw.

So she did what she had always done when the days were dark and stormy.

She ran.

Lilja Svana was now a fugitive, a runaway, a coward fleeing the scene of battle. She rode on Visaraenar's back, staying at the very edges of the army which was now retreating as Vaxon as his army pressed on. The dapple grey pegasus was panting heavily, even foaming at the mouth after hours of hard riding, and though Lilja wanted nothing but to stop and let poor Visaraenar rest, there was nothing she could do but keep travelling on.

Where she was going, she did not know. Guessing by the climate and their forestry surroundings, Lilja would say that they were still in Elloyn. Where exactly was impossible to tell – they had been escaping the onslaught from Vaxon for more than a day now, and there had been little to no time to stop for rest. Lilja had only dozed off once or twice, and then not more than two hours. Visaraenar, bless his soul, had not gotten a wink of sleep at all.

Lilja knew that Pegasi had more energy than an average human, and could even store energy in their blood for the next day if needed, but one look at the sagging tail, drooped ears and fluttering eyelids of Visaraenar spoke volumes. He was exhausted, but still trotted onwards like the valiant warrior he was.

In a way, the Pegasus reminded her of Chanel – no doubt if she was still alive, she would have been marching with her head high, brave even in the face of danger and death. Lilja swallowed painfully at the thought of her twin sister – her death had been days ago, and though there were much more pressing matters at hand such as the ever-present danger of Vaxon or the possibility of a sudden assault, how could Lilja just push the face of her deceased twin out of her mind?

She let out a melancholy sigh, before suddenly realizing that Visaraenar had paused beneath her, and they were no longer moving forward with the rest of the army. Lilja looked down at her friend in confusion, asking, "Visaraenar-"

He collapsed.

With a muffled shriek, Lilja was pitched off the back of the Pegasus as his front legs buckled, sending both of them crashing to the ground. Her face grazed painfully against the rocky road and she received a mouthful of dirt, which she immediately spat out in distaste. For a few seconds, she just lay in the heap on the road, stunned and with her vision swimming so that everything before her was nothing but a meaningless blur of color. A groan left her lips against her will as Lilja blinked hard, trying to get her vision to focus once more. After a few attempts of blinking, the world had stopped spinning around her and she had propped herself up on one elbow. The sight she saw before her caused her heartbeat to quicken in fear.

Visaraenar – strong, handsome, kind Visaraenar – was lying on his side on the ground, a few feet from where she was sitting. Surmyr and Alyra, along with the rest of the pegasi herd, were all gathered around the stallion, but to Lilja's shock and rage the rest of the army and remaining magi just gave him a wide berth, not even stopping to help. In a sense, Lilja understood why. They had no time to worry about a fallen pegasi – they needed to keep moving or else Vaxon would catch up to them. But that didn't stop Lilja's blood to boil with anger as she stumbled to her feet, flying to Visaraenar's side with an anguished cry of, "Visaraenar!"

She dropped to her knees beside the fearless stallion she had grown to love so much after their escape, and gently placed a trembling hand on his sweat-soaked, tangled mane. It pained her heart to think of how much he'd changed over the past few days – before, when Lilja had first met him, she had been blown away by his beauty and magnificence. Now, however, his eyes were weary and filled with suffering, his majestic form hunched and swelling. "Oh, Visaraenar," she whispered, feeling tears prickle at the back of her eyes. She leaned forward, caring not about the eyes that stared at her from all around, and wrapped her arms tenderly around his neck. "Please tell me what's wrong with you...I can help you, ." My friend.

"Heį es trîbūatum, Lilja z Milvake," Surmyr stepped forward, his hooves barely making any sound on the stony pavement. He is exhausted, Lilja of Milvake. His voice was compassionate, tinted with sadness, but there was a note of finality there that Lilja hated. Like he thought nothing could be done for Visaraenar, and refused to even fight for his son's life. "Hirea es gnihton elwen nác dou for hej." There is nothing we can do for him.

She made no move to acknowledge his presence, instead keeping her dark brown irises fixed on Visaraenar's, cradling the stallion's head in her arms like a mother would do to an infant child. The shallow rise and fall of Visaraenar's breathing matched the girl's heartbeat, as she gingerly stroked his face, now letting her tears fall, tiny diamonds slipping down her cheeks and splattering onto Visaraenar's dirty, ragged coat.

"Please get up," she pleaded. "Please get up, Visaraenar..." Her voice choked in her throat, and Lilja had to swallow forcefully to continue. She could feel the shivers and trembles that passed through her body, making her cold in the middle of summer. He has to get up, he has to get up, she thought, refusing to believe for even a second that her closest friend might never see another sunrise. He's a Pegasus! They're supposed to be strong! A pause, then, "Don't die, not now, not you too..."

"Ambush!" someone screamed.

Lilja whipped her head around, and her dark brown irises widened when she saw some of the lookouts at the very end of the army slump to the ground. A moment later, a knight clad in the purest black cleared the brow of a hill in the distance, lance in hand.

"Battle formation!" a soldier cried – most likely one of the men who had taken over as the new Commander following Jahad's capture and recent execution. Immediately, armed young men and several magi swarmed around him, ready to charge and attack. Some of those who rode horses urged their steeds to gallop towards the hill behind them where Vaxon's army were quickly climbing over, and Lilja realized with a sinking heart that the Pegasi herd was also expected to do battle. What was worse was they had to fight at the front lines, the most dangerous position on the battlefield. Her fingers tightened around several strands of Visaraenar's mane. I'm not leaving.

As Surmyr reared up on his hind legs, spreading open his magnificent white wings and screaming out a command in the Pegasi language which Lilja didn't recognize, she heard something whistle through the air. As she attempted to pinpoint the source of the noise, her answer was soon delivered to her in the form of a Pegasus crumpling to the ground, a Stygian arrow sprouting from its head. Blood splattered from the fatal wound as the Pegasus let out a piercing shriek of agony, before its movement ceased as death took hold.

Alyra screamed – and the sound was so loud and so furious that it shook Lilja to her very core. Even the ground beneath her feet seemed to quake and quiver with fear, as the lead mare of the herd laid flat her ears and spread her own wings, taking to the air in one fluid motion towards the direction of Vaxon's army. The other pegasi – Surmyr included –

followed suit without question. As Lilja watched them fly with a speed that was almost supersonic to her eyes, Surmyr passed her slender form and roared in heavily accented English, "Go!" His eyes were ablaze with fire that danced and sparkled that was fueled with unquenchable wrath. "Leave us, Lilja!" And with that, he was gone, soaring high in the direction of the army before he disappeared from her sight.

The girl turned her attention back to Visaraenar, now more desperate than ever before to somehow heave the Pegasus out of the way. Around her soldiers ran in every direction, and every now and again the darkening night sky was illuminated with flashes of red and yellow, no doubt work of some other magi. Lilja hardly looked at them. Inhaling sharply, she eyed a patch of moss and heather near from where she was currently lying, and an idea sparked in her mind.

I need to get him there, she thought, now with grim determination rather than sadness. I can't let him die...not like Chanel.The word itself was usually enough to tear her heart to shreds and cause her to curl up into a ball and weep, but not today. The God of Death may be omnipresent, and he may have succeeded in taking the life of her sister, but Visaraenar was not going to be his next victim – not today. There was only one thing she said to death, and that was, "Not today."

But before she could roll up her sleeves and play the hero, Visaraenar's eyelids fluttered opened, every so slowly. His brown irises flickered here and there, seemingly confused, before they locked onto Lilja's own eyes and stayed there. Pegasus and human stared blinkingly at each other for what seemed like an eternity as Lilja's heart thudded. She knew that she had to get Visaraenar out of harm's way before it was to late, but the creature's eyes held her fixated to the ground. They were filled with such agony that pierced Lilja's heart like a serrated dagger, but there was also something else in them.

"Lilja," he rasped, and she could tell how much of an effort it was taking to speak just one word. "Tnou hes tedea roň." You have to run.

"No," she shook her head fervently, tears now coursing down her cheeks. "I'm not running away. Not anymore."

"Des roň forwardův, ne bazare." Then run forward, not backwards. Visaraenar's eyes were an ocean of emotions, a sea made up of fire and ice, of pain and happiness. He let out a soft nicker, and his next words were so soft and so low that Lilja had to press her head forwards to catch them. "Dost nevře bez afra, Lilja z Milvake." Don't ever be afraid, Lilja of Milvake.

There was a part inside of her that was screaming to save Visaraenar, to save her only remaining friend – a friend so dear that he was nearly family. She could not lose another loved one, not after Chanel. Yet after hearing Visaraenar's words that so eerily mirrored Chanel's, something stirred inside of her. No, it was not grief, nor anger. It was none of the other negative, depressing emotions she had felt in the previous days. Instead, when Visaraenar's became shallow and weak, and the screams and shouts and din served as background music, Lilja did not crumple to her knees and give up on life. Rather, she leaned down and brushed her lips on the muzzle of the Pegasus, breathing in the musky scent of her friend and letting a teardrop splatter against his dirty fur.

She ran.

She didn't run away, she ran towards.

She did not even need to change into her wolf form – the fire and flame coursing inside of her body was enough to push her onwards. Her heart thrashed violently against her chest as she burst through ranks of fighting men and women, ducking as a griffin unexpectedly fell from the sky and crash-landed with a thunderous boom into the crowd. Dust sprayed up in large quantities, and Lilja veered sharply towards the right, never breaking stride. It did not matter that casualties were rising by the minute on either sides. In Lilja Svana's mind, there were only threes names and faces that were important.

One, Chanel Svana. Loving sister; spirited warrior.

Two, Visaraenar Daltalor, son of Surmyr Daltalor, clean of soul and young of spirit. Kind friend; valiant fighter.

Three, Vaxon Asherex. Enemy, murderer, fiend.

I'm going to kill him.

The bloodstained ground was hidden by the many lifeless bodies adorning it and the swords of fallen soldiers, and as Lilja blindly raced forwards in the midst of battle, her dark eyes swept across the pale and lifeless forms of two magi she recognized as Eiridian Stormblessed and Jaeyria Lightwood. Many a sword clashed. Cries of pain and of victory were heard until they blended in together like an orchestra conducted by the God of Death himself.

Then suddenly, the noise that boomed all around her seemed to cease and dissipate into nothing but thin air as Lilja chanced to glance upon a ferocious battle not far away from where she was. What she saw caused her to slam her tattered shoes down onto the crimson asphalt and screech to a stop, regardless of the way that a fire had been ignited somewhere behind her, and smoke was curling upwards and spreading everywhere. What she saw her eyes to widen in surprise and then narrow in hatred, caused her fists to clench and her nails to dig into her skin, drawing tiny droplets of blood. For Vaxon Asherex was using his signature dark magic, commanding shadows to rise up and curl like vines around Alyra Gallarys'throat, choking the grey mare who was flapping her wings in a desperate attempt to escape. Though Lilja had never been overly fond of Surmyr's sharp-tongued and quick-witted second-in-command, she still considered every member of Surmyr's herd as her family. And family always came first.

With a shriek, Lilja leapt forwards towards were Vaxon was slowly torturing Alyra, a cruel and sadistic grin etched upon his face. She had no weapon, but adrenaline acted as incentive to somehow rescue Alyra from her attacker's grip. However, before Lilja had even come three feet from where Vaxon was standing, the wicked mage whipped his head around and with his free hand, shot around thin streak of dark shadow in her direction. Before she had time to even consider the notion of ducking or rolling out of the way, the thin tendrils of dancing blackness had wrapped around her body like vines, rendering her immobile. With an almost lazy flick of his wrist, she was yanked forward towards Vaxon like a rag doll and slammed harshly onto the ground, momentarily distorting her vision and causing her to let out a soft groan of pain. She tasted copper on her tongue.

"Well, well, well," Vaxon turned his gaze away from Alyra for a few brief seconds to flash an evil smile at Lilja on the dirt ground. "Who do we have here? Lilja, is it not?"

"You bastard," she managed to get out in reply, lifting her head to stare Vaxon in the eye with defiance.

Vaxon just shook his head, like a father disappointed with his child after receiving bad grades in school. If possible, his cobalt blue eyes shone even brighter than Lilja last remembered seeing him – at the wheat field on the day that she and Chanel were kidnapped. Despite the lines of age that decorated his face, Vaxon Asherex looked even more terrifyingly wicked than before. The shadows that now acted as ropes squeeze tighter around her body, and Lilja sucked in a breath to keep from being suffocated like Alyra was. She attempted to maintain her fearless façade, but could feel her resistance slipping as Vaxon also tightened his grip on Alyra's throat so that the mare was now making odd rasping noises, like someone having an asthma attack, only ten times more horrifying. Her lower lip trembled as Alyra's eyes began to bulge, and before she could help herself she cried out, "Stop!"

"You care," Vaxon's eyes glittered, and momentarily he loosened his grip on Alyra's throat. The Pegasus had stopped beating her wings to save energy, and sucked in a giant gulp of air to sooth her no doubt burning lungs. Lilja tried to send a silent message to her, a message of reassurance like "You'll be fine" or "I'll get you out of this". Whether Alyra understood what Lilja's eyes were trying to communicate was uncertain, but Lilja still clung onto the hope that they would somehow wriggle their way out of such a sticky situation alive. Her attention was immediately diverted back to Vaxon as he purred, "Do you care for her, Lilja?"

For a few seconds, she didn't answer, unsure of how her answer might affect the outcome of the situation. But when Vaxon narrowed his piercing irises and strengthen his hold on Alyra, Lilja instantly confessed the truth for fear that more damage would come. "Yes, yes I do!"

Vaxon smiled, satisfied, and the way that his lips curved upwards seemed so genuine and true that Lilja even felt her muscles relax just a slightest bit. "Good," he nodded, bobbing his head up and down, "because then I know that this will hurt you."

And he snapped Alyra Gallarys' neck cleanly in half.

Lilja screamed as the mare stopped moving immediately, a loud cracking noise piercing the air as her head flopped lifelessly and abnormally to one side, her majestic grey wings suddenly drooping to the ground. Vaxon released his shadows from her neck, allowing the Pegasus to fully collapse on the dirt, dead. Alyra's eyes, once sharp and full of life, were now glazed and lifeless, glassy and still. Lilja kept on screaming as she stared at the Pegasus' body, the terror in her voice mixing with the thousands of others that resonated across the land. She screamed and shrieked, disbelieving and filled with a new type of horror for Vaxon Asherex. Alyra had been strong, powerful, invincible. And now she was lying on the earth, dead and gone.

"Shut up," after what seemed like an eternity and also a second at the same time, a new voice sliced through her frenzied, panicked thoughts. Her entire posture stiffened as she tore her gaze away from Alyra's unmoving body to connect with two pairs of icy blue irises, but not of Vaxon. No, these were the irises of Vaxon's son, Kyren, who now stood by his father's side, a sword bathed in blood gripped tightly in his hand. A moan left Lilja's lips as her eyes connected to yet another heart-wrenching sight, and despite both Visaraenar and Chanel's words to never be afraid, her entire being was horror-stricken as Surmyr, pure white pelt now splattered with vermillion, with the end of a spear sticking out of his side, as dragged by several burly soldiers by the mane and dumped like a bag of garbage at Kyren and Vaxon's feet. "Shut up," Kyren repeated, his voice laced with harshness, but also an undertone of regret. He motioned towards Surmyr, who was stirring slightly on the sand, "Or I'll kill this one too."

"No," she moaned, unable to move but still struggling with all her might against Vaxon's bonds. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she looked at Surmyr, the once exalted stallion now nothing more than a bloodied mess on the floor. Oh, how she wished that she could just run forward and take away his pain! "No, don't. You can't, you can't."

"Didn't I tell you to shut the hell up?!" Kyren strode forward, clearly agitated, and slapped the girl hard across the face. Once more, her vision reeled like a whirlpool, and once again she tasted blood on her lips. Almost robotically, like he had planned it, Kyren stepped back to Vaxon's side, and drew his sword in one smooth flourish. Vaxon gave him a slight nod, his expression one of satisfaction as he watched Kyren point the tip of the blade to Surmyr's neck. Lilja watched helplessly as Kyren sucked in a breath, before spitting out, "Now you're paying the price."

"You can't!" she shrieked, but it was too late. For Kyren had already driven the tip of his blade into Surmyr's throat, and a blood spurted out of the stallion's neck as the weapon sliced through arteries and veins. As Lilja thrashed against Vaxon's shadows, curling her hands into fists and shrieking meaningless words and emitting meaningless sounds, Surmyr lifted his head instinctively, as if he was attempting to escape the clutches of death. But, just like Alyra, all too soon the rise and fall of his chest ceased to exist, and his eyes rolled back into his head. Lilja watched, jaw parted midway through a scream, as Kyren withdrew his sword and proceeded to give Surmyr's body a mindless kick.

"You monster!" she howled, digging her feet into the dirt and jerking her body left and right, trying to break free. "How can you even live with yourself?!" She thought she saw Kyren wince slightly, but perhaps it was only a trick of the light.

Vaxon chuckled, a low, deep noise that sent shivers down Lilja's spine. "You're weak," he spat out, taking a step forward to intimidate her. It worked, for the two bodies of Alyra and Surmyr combined with the blazing fury in Vaxon's irises was enough to make her take a trembling step backwards. "You cling onto the past and let your sorrow consume you, instead of using it to your advantage." He moved back, and nodded at Kyren. In response, Kyren faded back into the hubbub of the battle, accompanied with several of his guards, and Lilja felt her heart thump violently against her ribcage in anticipation for what was to come. Were they going to continue to slaughter every single person she'd ever loved right before her eyes?

When Kyern returned with his guards, the next Pegasus they hurled back was enough to shatter Lilja's entire being. Somehow, someway, they had found the frail Visaraenar, and had shackled his neck with large iron chains, and was almost dragging him towards Vaxon. His eyes were partially closed, and for a heart-stopping moment Lilja wondered if he was dead – but no, he was still moving, though barely.

"Join me," Vaxon's smug voice, laced with heavy doses of arrogance pierced Lilja's thoughts. He was smiling, like he had already won. "Join me, Lilja Svana, or..." his voice trailed off, but the situation was blindingly clear. She had to join him, or else Visaraenar would join the countless bodies of the dead strewn sporadically all around them.

Visaraenar...she stared at her best friend, her only remaining friend, with sorrow wrenching her heart. How can I let him die? Once more, Chanel's face flashed in her mind. I can't lose anyone else. I can't lose him. She let out a choked sob, and right at that moment her knees failed her. The shadows around her withdrew back to Vaxon as Lilja crumpled to the ground, almost as lifeless as the Surmyr and Alyra's bodies around her, and pressed her face onto the dusty earth. Tears ran down her cheeks, and Lilja briefly wondered how she could still cry when it felt as if her body was empty, void of anything. Void of love, hate, strength and determination. There was only one thing she felt, and that was fear.

"Can someone be brave even when they're afraid, Chanel?"

"That is the only time that someone can be brave, sis."

How? She wanted to travel back in time and grab Chanel by the shoulders and demand answers. How can I be brave when my entire world is crumbling into ashes?

"Do you submit?" Vaxon asked, eyes glimmering in the blood-red sun blazing in the sky. "I know you're afraid," he continued, drawing his words out slowly, deliberately, as the guards held Visaraenar in place with the ugly chains and Kyren's hand rested on the hilt of his sword. He came closer to her quivering form, his footsteps loud when he stepped on twigs and branches on the ground. "Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. Join me, and you will not have to suffer."

She looked up slowly, and her eyes connected once more with Visaraenar's. The emotions held in their irises were eerily similar – both of them had suffered and felt pain on many degrees, and no doubt the death of Visaraenar's father, Surmyr, was tormenting the young stallion internally. Though before, he had pleaded with her to leave him and fight for freedom and liberty, how could she deny Vaxon's offer and live with the guilt that she had caused an innocent's death for the rest of her life?

"Do you submit?" Vaxon repeated, and this time his words were clipped and curt. He was growing impatient.

"Yes," she replied, closing her eyes so she would not see the look of betrayal on Visaraenar's torn and weary face. Her next words were so soft that she thought only the wind could hear it, but her message was loud and clear. "I submit."

After all, Lilja Svana had always been a runner, not a fighter.