Noxaura loathed this room.<br/><br/>It was where the obsidian collar, fashioned from the inky black stone from the throne room that amplified the King's power, had been forever soldered around her neck - like a lowly animal, forever destined to be his property until she died.<br/><br/>Today her collar hummed as if writhing in excitement to be back again. It was the bane of her exsistence.<br/><br/>Her teachers had attempted to thwart her graduation ceremony, the only sliver of hope in this dreary, blood drenched, pain soaked nightmare of hers. Her precious key to freedom if all went well. Their attempts to give her the hardest, most time consuming mission before the ceremony had failed yet again, having arrived on time only moments ago, black egg clutched in surprisingly tender hands considering the carnage she'd just wrought.<br/><br/>She would not miss this ceremony for the world, even if it meant taking the blow of double the rebound of her magic from her collar as punishment. She had an extremely high pain threshold, to the point that in certain parts of her body she could not feel a thing. Perfect for thwarting any surprise attacks thrown her way. Not that anyone could surprise her these days.<br/><br/>The scent of rancid fear and bitter anger from the teachers flanking her made her sick. It was not for her protection of course. She was not the delicate flower she looked to most humans around her. No they were there to protect the students from the likes of her. Not that the students all perfectly lined up and sweetly dressed like cattle for slaughter knew of the true threat she possessed as she stood beside the line, watching the doors.<br/><br/>Surruptisciously she shifted an inch to the right and held the egg a little closer. Three minutes later and a half eaten apple bounced to a stop at her feet. Pathetic worm, giving the boy a dead eyed look over her shoulder that made him quiver. No one and nothing was stopping her. Not today, not when she was so close.<br/><br/>Patiently she waited as she watched all of them shuffle in, hatch their egg and either be devoured or be revered by the audience lurking inside.<br/><br/>Then it was finally her turn.<br/><br/>Taking a breath she stepped foreword, boots neatly left by the bowl as she curled her toes into the white sand. Stepping onto the icy black floor of the throne room, her collar heated up at being reunited once more with its birth place. Taking it slow, she finally reached the middle, feeling the King's eyes burning into her as he watched on behind protective circles on his cushioned throne.<br/><br/>Pressing her forehead against the shell of her black egg in reassurance, she finally knelt and placed it in the center of the ring of moonstone. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath before letting the most entrancing pure operatic sound leave her lips, something not even her teachers had been expecting from a monster. Singing to her egg in the language of the fae, she gave it everything she had left in her. Which given everything that had happened to her, wasn't much anymore. But it was enough.<br/><br/><i>Crack!</i><br/><br/>The most beautiful sound she'd ever heard, icy blue eyes trained on the inky black egg before her with baited breath.<i>Rise!  </i>Mentally willing and encouraging it to emerge. She could almost taste her freedom.