The captain’s lips had tasted of tears and blood when Sunny had first taken her kiss under a great oak. It had not been surprising after all it was immediately after the bloodbath at Falcons’ terrain, an enemy’s territory where five and more of the greatest sects had decided to fight it out and all but one had met their ends at the green landscape. It was so rare these days to find a terrain as luscious as this and it was a miracle that the greenery had not been entirely devastated even after the battle between the sects.

Hyomin, the pink-haired captain stood on the highest point of the land, overlooking the ruins of battle. Corpses, whole and broken laid everywhere, dyeing the land crimson. Every here and there, there were still some wounded men, twitching and crying for help. Some pleaded for mercy but none of them would receive it. It had been without a doubt that Black Mamba would emerge victorious from this bloodbath and yet no one had expected that there was not one casualty from the famed organisation.

Her men had thought that their captain would have been proud of their performance that day. They could not believe that they had not lost a single men and even the most grievous injury that one of the men had sustained fell far short from life-threatening. Yet, the captain did not feel pride nor was she in the least bit satisfied. There was some tiny sort of regret in Hyomin.

The world would have been a better place if only such unnecessary bloodshed was avoided altogether. She thought to herself as she mourned for those whose lives had been lost that day and grieves at the thought of the anguish that will be felt by their loved ones.

Unbeknownst to the fiery pink-haired warrior, another female warrior with a smaller stature and who has perpetually been sporting a boyish haircut, observed and followed her every movement. The shorter warrior was trying to decipher her captain’s every emotions. It was when Hyomin had planted her sword with its tip down into the ground before a great oak tree that Sunny had made her presence known.

The pink-haired warrior removed her gauntlet and hung them deliberately on the hilt of her sword. The warrior then cut open her own palm with a dagger produced from her leather sheath by her waist. The walk she made to the trunk of the great oak was ponderous and the atmosphere became graver with each step taken. Sunny saw her smearing her own blood on the lone oak tree that very day, together with the vow that she would stop unnecessary bloodshed. That had made Sunny decide to offer comfort and plant a kiss on Hyomin’s lips.

Sunny had not meant to startle Hyomin however the captain seemed to react otherwise. Alluded to her fighter’s instincts and strengths, Hyomin had drew the sword out from the ground so quickly and forcefully that pieces of earth burst forth from the ground. Hyomin’s blade rested on her shoulders, just an inch away from Sunny’s slim neck, it had shaved off a bit of Sunny’s sideburns but that did not bother her. Sunny offered her a faint smile, one that she hoped could reflect both comradeship and grief for the lives lost at the same time. The defensive warrior’s eyes immediately flitted away from their brief eye contact and she removed the blade from her comrade.

“You would have made my 27^th kill of the day,” Hyomin spoke ashamedly.

“I know, I heard you counting them,” Sunny offered an apologetic smile as she said those words.  

Hyomin opened her palm with the fresh wound, blood was still streaming down in tiny rivulets from the deep cut. She closed them tightly enough for her to feel enough pain, pain enough for her to carve this memory as deep as it required. Blood flowed down more eagerly to her elbows, falling in small quick droplets onto the ground as she clenched her fist tighter with each passing moment.  

The captain sensed her comrade closing in on her and she allowed the shorter fighter to do so. Sunny had gripped Hyomin by the elbow and spun her around so roughly that her steel boots had dug into the ground, creating a deep groove in the earth. Time seemed to have slowed as Hyomin saw her face nearing. Sunny drank in the features of the pink-haired girl’s face and then the kiss happened. The liking she had for Hyomin began as a bud since they were young and no matter how many times Sunny could have tried to nip off this bud before it can blossom, she always held back. She allowed this love to blossom and eventually bloom into what it was right at that moment. Sunny guided Hyomin’s bloodied hands to take her face and she did the same with Hyomin’s face.

This scene, together with Hyomin’s face and the gentle kiss they shared disappeared. Replacing them was a muddle of other memories. They were so obscure and swirled past so quickly that Sunny could not catch up.

Then a face came into view. The image of this face had a different quality to it, it was not from her memory, it was real. A face that was so similar to Hyomin yet felt so dissimilar at the same time. There was no warmth nor love in this face, only coldness and hatred. Jessica.

Sunny wanted to claw at that face before her but she found no strength in her arms. Even her two legs felt feeble, she was surprised she was even standing. Then she realised she was not standing on her own accord, she had been positioned that way. Panic rose in her.

Memories… Where am I now… What am I now…

**

A/N: 

Hello guys, this prologue is told entirely from Sunny's perspective and narrates about a piece of her most precious memory of you-know-who. ><

Sunny was presumed dead in the last part of the prequel, Love & Betrayal, but this opening would proved otherwise. 

Yeap, she is very much alive but is currently in Jessica's hands :(

Hope this clears up any confusion that you guys may have :D and I welcome new readers! As I have mentioned in my Foreword, you can read this story separately from the prequel but if you would like to have a better background, feel free to read Love & Betrayal which is pretty short :D

Thank you for all the subscribes, comments and upvotes thus far <3

Until then~