Crowned - 16 | On A Mission (part one)

 

“We won’t blast a church!” Kairo snapped, ever the voice of reason.

Elvira agreed, nodding vehemently. “It would bring too much of unnecessary attention,” she established.

“Villainy is all about grand scale chaos, both of you are too afraid to agree,” Kaeo huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Let’s leave the plan making to Kairo, yeah? The one who has actual magic to clean up after you,” Elvira pointed.

“Said the leech,” Kaeo smiled at her, sarcasm pouring off his soft features.

“Okay, okay, halt it!” Kairo clapped his hands, “Even a literal wall cannot stop the two of you,” he gasped and clicked his fingers to make the wall disappear. “Wilhelma will provide us weapons for the mission. To avoid any mistakes and collateral damage, it will only be the three of us who will continue with this mission.” Kairo explained.

“Yes, take an illegal, non-magical citizen to the Church of mages to avoid mistakes and damage, of course, what a noble pursuit!” Elvira grinned sarcastically, “I’m loving it!”

“You cannot die,” Kaeo stated, looking her in the eye.

“Of course, if you value your life.” Elvira rolled her eyes.

“Now, then, what weapons do you desire! Cloaking spells are deceptive and won’t work in holy grounds so choose something that is efficient yet concealable!” Kairo declared.

“Do you have any options?” Elvira asked, at the same time as Kaeo said, “I’ll take the usual.”

“Options, yes!” Kairo flicked a hand over the floating hologram and the dragon’s projection disappeared into a million dots which reconnected to make an arsenal of weapons floating over the tabletop. “Here you go! I’d recommend a lasso with a blade, it is natural, magical and works long distance and short distance,” Kairo suggested.

Elvira gazed over a hundred weapons, more than eighty of which were unrecognisable to her. Was this how her mother summoned her weapons? Elvira wondered.

“Choose the poison blades and darts. You can throw them around and one stab would be enough to get out of a fight, considering you have the practical battle experience of a unicorn,” Kaeo grumbled.

“Well, it’s a good thing that we’re not going to battle,” Elvira scoffed, “I’ll take the lasso,” she said, just to spite Kaeo even though she personally liked his idea a lot.

“Using a lasso requires actual practice and good wrist movement,” Kaeo snapped, “Do you think these danglers,” he pointed at Elvira’s slender pale wrists, “Would be able to do anything?!”

Elvira gasped, her auburn eyes carrying offence, “Do you want me to slap you for demonstration?” she scowled.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, we know you’re dying to touch me,” Kaeo snorted.

“Ah-ah-ah!” Kairo, once again, jumped between them before Elvira could attempt strangling Kaeo, “I genuinely suggest you go with the daggers, Elvi, they’re a wise choice!”

Elvira narrowed her eyes at Kaeo’s pouty smug smile and seethed through gritted teeth, “I accept it only because you said so,” she looked at Kairo, “You.”

“Of course, of course, no one would think otherwise,” Kaeo mocked.

“I’m going to –” Elvira couldn’t complete her sentence as Kairo grabbed her hand and teleported her away. The new room was a plethora of shining swords, studded scabbards, sharp knives and curved daggers decorated on walls and small shelves, all over the place. Kairo picked up a rust-coloured dagger from a shelf on the right along with a thigh band and a bunch of vials and darts.

“Here you go,” he handed the curved dagger to her, “Remember to unsheathe it before using it and DO NOT scratch the blade on YOUR skin or you will pass out!! But, even if you accidently do, here’s an antidote,” he pointed at a bubbling violet vial in his hand, “Keep it with you AT ALL TIMES!!”

Elvira nodded like a diligent student.

“And here are a few poison darts, there’s twelve you can fit in one band. Make sure to COLLECT THEM BACK AFTER SHOOTING THEM because we do not want to leave any traces, right?”

Kairo looked at her like her primary school teacher.

Elvira nodded, biting her lower lip.

“Are all of these weapons created by Wilhelma?” she asked.

“Yes, she’s an excellent example of an Alchemy Type. We found her on the outskirts of Willow two years ago; she’s been very loyal ever since.”

Elvira wondered why Kairo and Kaeo would take her on such an important mission and not someone as exceptional as Wilhelma. She had actual magic and actual use. Unlike the burden Elvira would create.

Elvira sighed as she pocketed the dagger, the antidote and the darts in her pant-pocket.

“When do we leave?” she asked.

Kairo noticed the sudden shift in Evira’s mood but did not acknowledge it. “Around two, there will a mass held at the Church to pray for Count Aramia’s land. The sudden fire and the rumour of the dead Count and Countess coming back to life has been unsettling the people. It’s very funny,” Kairo ran a hand over Elvira’s head, “You did as best as you could and I am proud of you for that.”

Elvira’s breath hitched.

You did as best as you could…

I am proud of you…

They were foreign words for Elvira’s ears.

She hadn’t expected to hear them in this lifetime.

After trying her best with her townsfolk, after working to her bone at Helif’s Estate, after coming to terms with her scars, Elvira was trying her best. Had always been. Yet, not a single soul had uttered the words of encouragement for her.

Though sudden, the words gashed past all her walls and left her raw and bleeding out tears in front Kairo. Her knees buckled but Kairo’s quick reflexes caught her by her waist and pulled her into his chest. Elvira cried into the silence, hoping the words would come from her parents instead.

Kairo wrapped his arms around her and caressed the back of her head, burying her sobs within his arms. He held on tight and perched his chin over her head, hoping to calm her tumultuous senses.

At the doorframe of the arsenal stood a scowling Kaeo with his hands crossed over his chest and a glint of glare in his amethyst eyes.

. . .

“Are you feeling better?” Kairo asked as they stood in front of the pristine white back walls of the Church Dianthia.

“Yes, I’m ready to cause chaos!” Elvira grinned, throwing a punch at the sky which involuntarily elicited a cracking sound from her elbow.

Kaeo grimaced, nostrils flared and eyes narrowed at Elvira’s bright smile directed towards Kairo.

“You should warm up,” Kairo laughed out loud as Elvira held her hands behind her back, growing red with embarrassment.

“I-I will, it’s just that Willow has such a pretty weather!”

Kairo had teleported them from the continent of Kalmia on the outer-world to the Continent of Willow in the Inner-World. Willow was known to have the biggest landmass with a pleasant weather and the most diverse population on Wreath. It was a place which accepted everyone, be it mages or creatures.

“Even the air feels free-er here,” Kairo sighed, inhaling a long breath.

“There is no such thing,” Kaeo grumbled. Brilliant blue magic circles appeared over his fingertips and underneath his shoes. “Watch and learn,” he said and proceeded to climb the towering walls with the agility of a sticky insect-creature.

“So, there are times when he is useful…” Elvira snorted a whisper.

Kairo nodded diligently, eyes shining with admiration for his brother.

Kaeo charted the walls while Kairo and Elvira kept watch underneath. As soon as he reached the top, he peeked inside and mapped the guards in attendance. There were five of them, stationed at equivalent distances, guarding the perimeter. Their silver metal armour clanked with every step they took, softened only by the crème holy robe they wore above it. Each of them had a golden sword in hand and their lips were constantly moving in recitation of some lost language.

Kaeo stuck his right palm on the wall and used his free hand to shuffle out a bunch of blades from his back-pocket.

“He was carrying sharp, unsheathed, blades in his pockets?! Just like that?!” Elvira gasped, properly scandalised.

“That’s Kaeo for you,” Kairo coughed out a laugh.

Over the wall, Kaeo placed one blade over the edge and grabbed the rest between his lips, undeterred by their sharpness. He picked up the remaining blade and positioned it with one eye closed and a magic circle enhancing the sight of his other open eye. Then, he threw the blade with just enough force for it to pierce through the air and stab onto a guard’s forehead.

Before the other guards could take a note, Kaeo dropped them in a line.

“All clear, come along,” he called to the ones behind.

“I’m afraid you will have to carry us,” Kairo whisper-called.

Kaeo nodded and jumped down, feet landing the ground as light as a feather.

It evoked a memory in Elvira’s mind. The first time she had met him. The sun shadowed his sapphire eyes but illuminated his dazzling smile. He was upside down, yet ecstatic to catch her gaze.

Suddenly, her eyes caught his gaze again. After all those years, he wasn’t ecstatic to meet her anymore. His amethyst eyes were cold and he wished she were dead, like everyone else.

Elvira instantly evaded his eyes.

“I’ll take you first,” Kaeo pointed at Kairo. The blonde nodded and jumped over his brother’s back, giddy to get a free ride.

“Woo-hoo! Let’s go!” he grinned as Kaeo flung at the wall and climbed it with a natural fervour.

Elvira couldn’t believe she would have to be dependent on Kaeo again.

Crowned - 15 | Crash Course

 

Kairo led them to the laboratory on the west end of the Helmire Castle. It was a black tiled tower on the outside, standing upright at an awkward angle to give an illusion of a natural hilltop. 

Kairo led Elvira and a reluctantly dragging Kaeo to the ground floor room, the doors of which opened when he pressed his right palm over it.

A dimly lit room greeted their sight. Elvira felt a chill run down her spine and covered her chest to rub her hands over her arms. The walls were lined with wooden shelves which displayed strange organs floating in bubbling glass jars. Thin white smoke lurked around the shelves, as if guarding the objects at display.

From the farther right, Kairo picked up a mauve vial and held it out for them.

“Do you remember this?”

Elvira nodded, recognising the vial’s contents instantly. “Linch blood,” she stated.

“Indeed!” Kairo exclaimed, “It’s for the research we were supposed to do five years ago! I halted it so that we could complete it together,” he chirped, grinning ear to ear.

Kaeo rolled his eyes, “So that is your research error that you have been droning about for the past years?” he threw a disgusted look at Elvira.

Kairo’s grin turned sheepish. Elvira glared at him.

“What if I were dead and gone for good?” Elvira asked, “Would you just shut the project down?”

“What! No! of course not! We did this because I knew you were alive,” Kairo reassured as he took the vial and led them out of the first room and into a second room on the ground floor.

“So, what’s it about?” Elvira asked.

The new room seemed mediocre with its plain white walls and the floor covered with elongated tables and wooden chairs as its dominant aesthetic. Kairo placed the vial on the first table in front of the door and banged a hand over its top. Instantly, a three-dimensional projection appeared over it.

“Linchs may be E tier Creatures but they are classified under LLL by size. Their sheer mass and ability to utilise the poison they consume make them a predatory species. I want to combine their genes with that of a dragon and create a blood sucking, poison consuming, lethal, end-of-the-world-harbinger dragon!”

“To conquer the world,” Kaeo added.

Brows raised, nostrils flared and mouth pinched on both ends, Elvira uttered, “Obviously.”

“Nothing makes conquering territories easier than a dragon’s invasion!”

There was an ecstatic glint in his green eyes that made him look like a perfect villain as he spread his arms in front of a holographic projection of a dragon over the tabletop.

“And pray tell, how would you acquire the dragon gene considering they have been extinct for about—four centuries and counting, now?!” Elvira demanded, trying to make sense of the idealistic plan.

“Where do you think you can find a dragon skull?” Kairo countered.

“The black market…”

“That’s not how villains work!” Kaeo snapped at Elvira’s reply.

“At the Church Dianthia, of course, those who protect Virae’s direct bloodline more than their own flesh and blood!” Kairo supplied.

Elvira’s brows threatened to jump off her forehead and walk away. “What do you mean a skull; how do you know that it is not the skull?!” she intentionally lowered her voice to a whisper as she shouted.

“Well, who’s to say that your Church is safekeeping the real religious artifact – unless we prove it otherwise?” Kairo giggled.

“Having the skull’s genes would be better though, naturally,” Kaeo supplied.

Elvira’s brain wandered off to history classes back in school.

The skull in question would be the head of the first dragon on their planet Wreath. There was a time when shadow-Earth only harboured two species, the originals being the Dracionious, or Dragon-kind and other being Dinorious, or the Dinosaurs, who were warped onto Wreath after a meteor hit the real-Earth.

The sudden appearance of the Dinorious species was considered as an Act of God, obligated by the Stars, and suddenly, the dominant Dracioniouses not only had competition but also a war of resources at hand. Every giant creature took immense space and Wreath could only host so many.

Amongst the angry dragon-kind, there was one dragon who was able to transform into a human owning to his patience, high affinity to magic and insane spell-crafting skills. He was Virae, the first mage on Wreath who was later worshiped by the Dianthia supporters.

During the Great Evolution Era (F526 – F528) Virae taught the transformation spell to his fellow dragon-kind because he found it more convenient to live as a human. Suddenly, tables were turned and once again, the Dracioniouses had an upper hand when it came to lasting survival. They fell into a leisurely life, calling themselves Blossoms, and discovered the pursuit of sexual pleasures.

Thereafter followed the Sin Era (F527 – F777) until the great curse Morana, created by Virae, wiped the majority of the Dinorious population. The genocide was frowned upon by the Stars and the Heaven. Instead of the curse affecting the rest of the Dinorious population and killing them off, it caused mutations amongst them, altering them and birthing into existences a myriad of Creatures, who were now known as Creatures of God.

The Church of Melantha supported the Creatures and their rights whereas the Church of Dianthia worked in line with Virae’s principals of eradicating all Oddities and establishing Blossoms' sovereignty over Wreath.

It was just a part of Wreath’s extensive history which Kairo lent in order to conquer the world.

“But if we’re caught…” Elvira said through gritted teeth.

“Then we don’t have to go into an elaborate monologue to reveal all our plans, okay?” Kaeo snorted.

Elvira rolled her eyes at his lack of seriousness. Kairo was not proposing just petty villainy anymore, no, he was proposing global religious artifact theft! Elvira wanted to be of help, truly, but at what stake? She never had any qualms about religion or the politics of her world. She could care less since she was rejected by the very people who birthed and raised her. Still...

“How are we getting in?” Elvira asked, licking her lips.

“Now we’re talking!” Kairo exclaimed and clapped his hands. As he separated them, a sheet of paper appeared between his fingers. He held onto it by its corners and Elvira squinted at the blue lines and realised it was a map.

“Where did you get a map of the greatest Church in the world?” Elvira sniffled with admiration.

“I punched it out of saint,” Kaeo stated.

“Diabolical.” Elvira seethed.

“He was drinking at a pub and harassing the barmaid, I didn’t even have to try hard,” Kaeo scoffed.

“Are you defending yourself so I don’t judge you?” Elvira snorted, a laugh edging on her face.

“No, I am stating facts!” Kaeo snapped.

“Let us focus on the task at hand, shall we?” Kairo clapped, “Burn the image into your brain!”

Elvira nodded aggressively and stared at the blueprint, not understanding a thing. Her nose whiffed a burning stench and before Elvira could realise, the paper held between Kairo’s fingers burst into flames and ashes.

“I – I couldn’t even look at it!” Elvira complained.

“Don’t worry,” a jade magic circle appeared over Kairo’s hands which he flicked over in Elvira and Kaeo’s direction, “Your mind will remember it when you’re there.” He explained.

“What?!” Elvira cried.

“Or, just eat this ash if you don’t trust Kai’s magic and the map will appear before your eyes.” Kaeo supplied.

“Are you trying to kill me again?!” Elvira snapped.

“Oh my, was it so obvious?” Kaeo drawled.

“Elvi, don’t worry, that is exactly how the spell works. The ash isn’t harmful at all!” Kairo clarified before Elvira could jump on Kaeo and start pulling his hair.

“Okay,” Elvira nodded. Somehow, Kairo was naturally trustworthy.

“What! You trust him with the same thing and not me?!” Kaeo exclaimed, eyes widened with surprise.

“He’s better than you,” Elvira shrugged.

Kairo flicked his finger and created a wall in between them before Kaeo could lunge at Elvira and indirectly harm himself.

“Now, you must know that Dianthia is a Church so, obviously, it is surrounded by Holy Grounds. There are anti-teleportation wards so we cannot have an easy entry and only natural magic would work within the grounds. Which means no deceptive magic like illusions or creation magic like this wall would work there. The grounds are blessed with divine magic so, spells which have a cause-and-effect relationship with nature would be our only escape.”

Elvira raised her hand.

“Yes?” Kaeo asked, containing a genuine smile at her scholarly antics.

“What is divine magic? Aren’t there only four types?”

“Ah, to work at a church or any holy place you have to pass an exam full of ethics and religious morals and stuff. If you pass, you are hired and taught the Divine Script, it’s a dead hidden language unlike the usual spell writing languages like the Conjuror Runic I use and the Stryn Script used by Alchemy Type Mages. Spells are written in order to satisfy a need, right? That need, depending on the recipient, changes the medium, which is the language.”

Elvira nodded, frowning.

“Like the shape-shifters of Kalmia, they are able do it so easily because they have their own Beast-Script spells. Languages are passed down only to those with abilities,” Kaeo clenched his teeth as he peeked over the wall to mock Elvira.

“No wonder I did not know about them,” Elvira huffed and shoved a middle finger in Kaeo’s face.

“Yeah, the more languages you know, the more powerful of a mage you become! Conjuror Runic lends magic from the world and uses it for a cause. Stryn Script lends magic from the mage and uses it in a cause. That’s the main difference between the two basic ones.” Kairo explained further.

“For example, creating a sword out of thin air would require a Conjuror Runic based spell and crafting a sword and then giving it the ability to throw fire, water or air blasts would require a Stryn Script spell,” Kaeo dumbed it down.

“What is this? A heist plan of the villains or a crash-course in theories of magic?” Elvira scoffed. Though her face feigned nonchalance, her eyes sparkled with gratefulness.

“Right! Now, how do we get inside?” Kairo asked.

“We blast the grounds, send in the troops and steal that head like it always belonged to us.” Kaeo grinned.

Crowned - 14 | An Identity Crisis

 

Helmire Castle was built on top of the Northern Hills of Kalmia, bordering the submerged continent of the Narkissa on two sides. Their natural crescent shape moulded the castle’s territory, giving Helmire height and security from all directions. The elevation of the black peaks veiled the castle towers, embracing them as one of their own.

Nature was never an antagonist to magic.

Tough the land was dry and unhabitable by Kalmia’s Creatures, mages from Lunaria had transformed Helmire into grounds of scenic beauty which rivalled that of tourist hotspots of the world, like Matholia and Willow.

As per usual, Elvira sneaked out of prying eyes and found the sloping gardens a perfect place for private respite. There, surrounded by flowers, she sat cross-legged, and pointed a finger on a wilted flower in her lap.

“Alive!”

“Live!”

“GROWWWW!”

“RE! BIRTH!”

“BLOOOOOOM!”

“Thrive?”

She exclaimed, for the nth time but the wilted flower remained unmoving and unbothered by her flashy hand movements and tonal-shift advances. Sighing, a recent habit she had acquired, Elvira flopped backwards and rested her head amidst the flowers.

“I really, really, don’t think I have powers. It’s not working, no matter how hard I try, nothing happens,” she huffed to the birds and the bees, “I have never had so much free time on my hands. Now that I don’t have to slave away at the Count’s Estate, life is so much easier!”

She inhaled a breath of fragrant fresh air.

“I’m so useless,” she grumbled, instantly grounding herself.

Maybe Kairo was avoiding her, maybe she was avoiding Kairo, but it had been two weeks ever since their last conversation. Though, whatever the deal was with Kairo, Elvira knew that she was purposefully avoiding all of Kaeo. She did not know how to face him or Clary or any of the other dead people. Formerly dead people.

“At least being trapped by familiar people doesn’t involve doing chores…”

Elvira raised her hands up at the sky and chanted, “Magic Reincarnation, go, go, go!”

Obviously, nothing happened.

Elvira sighed again as her hands fell back on the flower grass. “This is so bad, I’m essentially worthless, why am I even here?” she got up with an ambition to charge inside and make demands for her freedom.

Almost immediately, realisation washed over her like a cold shower.

“Where would I go? I know nothing, I have no connections, no—well, I have friends but they’re all busy. The Count and Countess would begin paying them from the next month so they’re working hard. They’ll be financially independent soon and here I am,” she fell back into the grass, “Absolutely lost in life with a promising yet absent power,” she glared at her hands, “Can you be good at anything?”

She was allegedly good at something but she had never witnessed her own abilities first-hand, only the harsh consequences they brought along.  

“Elvira!” a voice called out.

Elvira groaned out loud and curled up into a ball, hoping the person would walk past her.

“Elvira! I see you there! Quit floundering with the flowers and make some use for yourself! Come, have tea with me!”

Elvira would rather eat Linch dung but she did not voice her avoidant dreams. Instead, she clawed up and forced her face into a smile, “Wilhelma!” she exclaimed, “Fancy seeing you so early!”

“Early? Girl, it is ten in the morning! It might be early for jobless folks like you but I, an employed person, just got off morning duty. Come along now, I’ll treat you to tea!” the tall girl exclaimed.

Wilhelma was considerably taller than Elvira and held a more poised sense of self. Her shoulders were always squared and chin held up high. Even with the harshest of comments, the smile never slipped off her lips. Her dark hair was always in a loose bun, so meticulously pinned that not a strand escaped from her head by the end of the day. She had a pair of dewy siren eyes which she used to convey her displeasure in order to not inconvenience her mouth.

“Treat me, you shall,” Elvira mumbled as she dragged her feet behind Wilhelma.

“Mhm, we’re drinking Hibiscus today,” Wilhelma replied, airily.

“I don’t even like tea,” Elvira grumbled.

“Nonsense! All ladies like tea! That is not how you will wed Kaeo! I’m going to end up grabbing him!”

“Please, make haste, the floor is all yours,” Elvira huffed.

“I would never do that to a friend…”

She had no idea how or why Wilhelma had decided to latch onto her, but this misfortune happened a week ago. She had been having an identity crisis amidst the flowers when the pretty girl showed up and offered her a sweet drink.

Elvira, having never had an overthought human interaction before, simply considered it a kind gesture and drank a sip.

Though, instead of watering the seeds of friendship with that drink, Wilhelma held out a hand and demanded compensation. Elvira, not having a morsel in her name, declared so.

Henceforth, they Wilhelma had established an uncanny sort of claim on Elvira’s time and presence. To a distant viewer, the girls drinking tea together, choosing clothes, running in the garden, petting creatures, would all look like acts of friendship.

But to Elvira’s distaste, it was hours of, “Oh, isn’t the tea marvellous? I know you do not like it, worry not, you shall develop the taste soon!” or, “Oh my! You’re horrible at coordinating an outfit! With that sack of a dress on you, do you think you will reach any man’s bed? Don’t worry, I’m here to guide you!” or else, “STOP RUNNING AWAY! ONE BITE FROM THE PAIX BEE AND YOUR INTERNAL INJURIES WILL BE HEALED, TRUST ME! IT ALSO MAKES YOUR CHEST BIGGER IF BITTEN IN THE RIGHT SPOT!” or maybe, “Yes please, wash the Hornstriders tonight, I’m so exhausted by chasing after you all afternoon. Won’t you help a friend out? You’re the kindest!”

Friend.

Elvira scoffed.

“…but if you take too much time, who knows, he’ll just end up in my bed instead!” Wilhelma giggled at whatever wild imagery her head conjured.

“I hope he does,” Elvira grumbled. “It’s not like I have known him for fifty years,” she scoffed, “five hours, give or take, at best.”

“It’s seldom about time and more about the hows, the whys, the whats and the what’s nexts!”

Elvira rolled her eyes. She wished she could straight up reject Wilhelma’s advances and walk away, but to her dismay, she had few hiding places and too much time with too less work to be excused for.

The only perk of being by Wilhelma’s side was facing the other residents of Helmire. Each and every recruit was an exceptional mage or entity, personally recruited by either Kairo or Kaeo for this elaborate mission to take over the world.

They were all useful minions and she was a useless burden they decided to weigh upon them, one unfortunate afternoon. A liability which roamed with freewill in a heaven of their creation.

“Ugh, I hate this,” Elvira mumbled. Having too much time on her hands had made her an overthinking mess of insecurities.

“Hate what? Tea time? I told you that you will develop the taste soon enough. It is refinement, trust me,” Wilhelma waved a hand in Elvira’s face and led her inside the gleaming black castle.

Misfortune tipped the balance of her life, once again, as they bumped into Kairo by the door.

“Oh, Sire Kairen! Sire Helmire! Hello! Pleasant day, is it not? What are you doing up so early?” Wilhelma exclaimed, going out of her way to demand a greeting.

Elvira rolled her eyes and slipped past Wilhelma in order to avoid brewing awkwardness in their morning greetings. The last push she needed to spiral was Kairo urging marriage. Her face wore a scowl, unintentionally so, as she sped past the greeting people in the hallway. She did not understand what ticked her off but she did not wait to comprehend either.

In her haste to escape, Elvira bumped into a person. Their papers flew out of their hands and fluttered up in the air. She burst in to a flurry of apologies as the person shrugged her off and waved their hand to gather the dropped material.

The exchange could have settled as yet another embarrassing memory to cringe over at 3 A.M. but fate had Kaeo witness the whole shenanigan and pursue a snide remark, “Is it too hard to watch where you are going or do I have to lend you my sight now?”

“It was an accident,” Elvira grumbled, “And it’s not like I want to siphon your magic off of you, okay? You don’t have to whine about it every time you meet my eye.”

“Kairo insists I marry you when I could easily have your pretty little head off your shoulders and up on my display wall.”

“Aw, you find my head pretty?” Elvira scoffed and fanned her hands around her face, “Obsessed with me, even when I'm dead? Sounds a bit loony.”

 Kaeo shrugged, leaning against a wall. His face exuded all the leisure a person could aspire to achieve.

“You should feel blessed that killing you would kill me.”

“Wow, makes me wanna slit my wrist and see what happens next,” Elvira rolled her eyes.

Though she had said the words with much nonchalance, Kaeo’s face darkened at the prospect. She was quick to recognise the hardness in his jaw and corrected herself, “My bad, I love my life too much to waste it over the likes to you.”

“Said the one who brought me back from the dead.” Kaeo scoffed.

“I did it for the Kaeo I liked,” Elvira said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oh! You like me?” Kaeo mocked, throwing his head back in disbelief.

“What! No! not at all! the old you, who doesn’t exist anymore! the nicer person! I liked him, like I like Kairo, of course, like nor—”

“Oh, you like me?” Kairo whispered from behind her, scaring her enough to jump away. “Is that why you have been avoiding marriage with my brother? Why did I never consider this?” he wondered in a serious conspirative tone.

“You like my brother now? After all the leaching you’ve done with me? You want to marry my brother?!” Kaeo bellowed.

“Elvira, if you want to, I can—”

“NO! I DON’T LIKE EITHER OF YOU!” Elvira shouted before any misunderstandings could prosper.

“Is it me who you like?” Wilhelma jumped into perspective, grinning ear to ear as she pointed a finger at her face.

Elvira sighed, emotionally and physically exhausted by the exchange. “I’d like my magic if I can find it,” she grumbled to no one in particular.

Suddenly, Kairo perked up, his jade eyes glinting as he exclaimed, “I have an idea! Let’s go on a mission together, for old time’s sake!”

The Lucielle Box - 2 : The Infamous Dungeon !

CHAPTER 1

The sudden brightness made her face squirm and eyes crinkle in response. A hand reached into the box, grabbed her by her hair and pulled her onto the ground. A flurry of laughter rose overhead. With her face pressed onto the stone-cold floor, reality began seeping in her foggy brain. Her vision cleared up and she spotted two pairs of leather boots in immediate sight.

“Not a fighter, eh?” one of the men said.

She felt a hand on her foot, grasping, as it dragged her across the floor and manhandled her onto a wooden chair.

“Change them ropes to thicker ones,” another man said.

“Let me look at that face first…kekekekeke.”

A finger and a thumb urged her face up by her chin and forced her look at the men surrounding her. There were four of them, leering in her face, exhaling odours which felt better to anonymously read off the pages of a book than experience in one’s breath. Their faces were scarred by time and war, darkened by the sun and an assumable abhorrence towards water. Thick bushy hair left no pore unmarked on their faces, in hopes of asserting dominance probably. Their beefy builds left no room for a violent retaliation unless she wished her head to be smashed open, in one blow, and end the nightmare before it would begin.

“She a gud one, I tell ye.”

The strange man’s hands grabbed her by the shoulders.

The girl sucked in a breath from that pungent, murky, damp, air.

“Show ‘em heaven, lass, eh.”

“Mee too, mee too!”

As soon as the man neared her face with puckered lips hidden amidst the bushy mouth of his, the girl began coughing. Violently. Her neck jerked forward but her spit reached flung forward, reaching left, right and centre; she coughed and coughed, distancing the men from her sickly, writhing body.

The dungeon was large, dark and cold, encased by a stone floor and stone walls, lit up by fire torches and lanterns. The men backed up into a corner, eyeing their captive with much disgust as her body contoured into different angles with no breaks in the cough-fest.

“Is she dyin’?”

“Last storm before the final calm?”

Third of them wiped his spit splattered face by his sleeve.

“Or is she acting?”

The fourth man scowled forward and charged his hand for a resounding slap but the momentum of his bulky hand reaching her face was slower than the spout of blood exiting her mouth and making him recoil in defense.

Too late though, for his open mouth and bushy face were now covered in blood. Certainly not a new sight but surely a sudden one for all of them.

“Argh! You disgusting country lass!!” the man scowled.

“Boss!”

“Bossman!”

“Sire!”

His three underlings ran up to his side, armed with their sleeves to instantly wipe clean their superior’s face. Though, their loyalty lasted only until they heard the words being hoarsely let out:

“I … h-have…tub-tuberculosis, ARCKHAHKKKHKHKHAAKHAM KHA KHA KHA, co-con-con-ARKHAKHAKHAKHAKHA-contagious.”

Heaven, Earth and everything in between knew the woes of a long-term slow death exceeded that of being shot by a bullet. So, in respect for their future, all the men hastily retreated to – what one could easily assume – clean themselves up.

The girl spat the last of blood in her mouth and fell back into the chair with an audible sigh of relief. Her tongue dangled out to let it remain open for some cold air to seep in and caress the open gash inside her mouth. She had bitten on her left cheek to make the violent coughs look more convincing but heaven knew it hurt like hell.

‘Well, I survived that thanks to watching so many dramas…but for how long?’ she thought as she looked around the dungeon. Behind her was a prison cell against which stood the box she was brought in. On the farther right was an empty wooden table pressed against the wall and directly opposite to it was a suit of armour.

An idea struck in her head as she dropped onto her knees, from the chair, and seethed as a sharp jolt of pain shot through her legs. The ground was rough and sharp against her knees but she was in no situation of whining about the ill upkeep of a castle dungeon – even though her opinion should have been highly valuable as a prisoner.

The girl crawled and managed to reach the suit of armour at the expense of her kneecaps and threw herself onto the metal, sideways, making it crash to the floor with a resounding THUD! It broke its shape as the head rolled off one direction and the arms in another.

She cringed at sheer loudness of her actions and could only hope no one heard. Amidst the dismantled parts, she spotted the armour’s sword laying near the prison cell. She crawled her way to it, gasping in delight as the slightly unsheathed blade, at the rear, glistened under the torchlights. She pressed the sheath under her foot and struggled to pull the sword out by its hilt. Though, as she stretched her body to pull harder, the sheath slid inside the prison cell emanating a loud drag while the hilt remained in her hand.

Praying to the plot gods, she began attempting to cut open the ropes on her hands.

“Ah, a dungeon escape?”

The sudden words jolted her in the direction of the voice. She spotted a blurred presence in the prison, dragging the sheath as he walked forward, from the depths of the cell, into the light.

Her hands began moving faster on the blade.

His eyes caught the glow of the torchlight as stood beyond the bars, looking down on her with much fascination. The buttons on his coat jacket glistened crimson and it was giveaway enough for her to know that he wasn’t an ordinary prisoner.

He seemed to have spotted the fast hand movement behind her back and could not help but snicker the words, “The Isdarien Dungeon is infamous for being an inescapable labyrinth, don’t you know?”

“I know,” she replied, monotonous, tongue poking out the side of her mouth to let the cold air soothe her burning gash.

“How…?” he frowned.

“Did you not say it is infamous?” she scoffed.

“I was being enigmatic,” he scoffed back, “Of course no one knows.”

She frowned.

“Well, now I know,” she shrugged.

“So, don’t you consider your ardent efforts at escaping to be futile?” he asked, eyes narrowed and neck craning to try and get a good view of her awkwardly rubbing the fraying rope to the sword’s blade.

“I don’t,” she replied, nonchalant.

“Damn, are you a regular?”

“What are you in for?”

A charming laugh resonated off the dungeon walls, intriguing enough for her to look up, momentarily. Curly dark hair covered his forehead but did not hide the genuine crinkle of his sharp eyes.

“I disrespected the big old man,” he replied, a boxy smile encasing his mouth.

“Pfffft, God?” she sputtered and looked away, afraid he’d catch her staring (though, in her current circumstances, there was much else she should have prioritised on her ‘scares-me-right-now’ list.)

“No,” he scoffed, “Grandpa.”

“What’d you do?” she asked, unknown to the fact that a smile was sneaking its way onto her lips.

“I laughed at his thirteenth wedding,” his reply was hushed like a conspiracy.

The rope tore apart and the sword jingled against the floor, once again.

“A punishable offence,” she uttered hoarsely as a realisation set in.

He is a prince.

With her hands free, she rotated her shoulders and wrists to feel the new-found-ease in her limbs. Her brain pondered over the princes’ lore in the book but all she could recall was how each died at the hands of Leonora.

“I am not a regular,” she answered as she picked up the sword and wedged it in between the ropes of her feet, “I was abducted.”

There was a moment of silence as the slow drag of the sword blade tried to penetrate into the thick rope of her feet.

“So…how do you know about the dungeon?” he asked, audibly confused.

“I know about a lot of things,” she shrugged in reply.

“Oh!” he neared the bars and grabbed one each in hand as he asked, “Do you know something about me?”

As she looked up, she found a wide pair of blazing eyes staring back into hers. An upturned smile graced her lips, out of sheer fascination, and she replied, “Well, what I know about us is that if I die here today, then,” she leaned closer to the prison bars and crouched down to be in his line of sight, “An upcoming war will wipe out the entire Royal family in five years.”

She held up hand, wiggling the five fingers, in his face.

Maybe it was because he was crouched, away from the torchlight, but his face darkened.

She picked up the sword to repeat her chore when her breath hitched.

Distant thuds of footsteps made her hand movements hasty and imprecise.

“Someone’s coming,” the prisoner said.

“I can hear it,” she struggled to move the sword faster but as the footsteps closed in, her heart thundered harder in her ears. Sweat overtook her hands as she tried to grasp the sword by the hilt to make it work faster but a sudden coagulation in her throat compelled her to begin cough. ‘Ah! How did I forget…Runa was a genuinely terminally sick person…’ she thought.

Footsteps closed in, the wooden door was pulled open, she continued coughing violently until blood oozed from her throat and splattered all over the pink dress she was wearing. Her vision darkened as she felt a hand jerk her head by her hair.

Then, darkness consumed her into a pool of her own expulsion.

ill timed — 1

All Good Things Take Time — Chapter 1

All Good Things take time: if and when one is earnest enough to invest their last shred of Hope and a progressively receding Will-to-survive into a fresh brew of dire discomfiture. One must hold on in pursuit of 'A Better Tomorrow,' a strange concoction of raging optimism garnishing your dish of Hope 'n Will with a smidge of Patience on the side. 

A big nom leads to All Good Things!

Unfortunately for little Orielle, the ingredient list seemed out of bounds in the confines of the huge trashcan from the open mouth of which her stocking covered legs dangled in a to-and-fro motion. Her immediate, dare I say, respite… consisted of a week's worth of lunch, more abundantly rotting spinach, eggs and bananas, swarming over her dull brown hair. The stench emanated from the aforementioned participants lingered around her with constancy, bordering memory…or far worse, nostalgia.

Through her dull eyes she could see the yellow plastic of the half open trash can, delightedly beaming under the presence of harsh sunlight. 

"Yellow is a happy color, my students! Color the sun yellow so that your drawings will be a happy place!" Ms. Prisms, her art teacher, had once said. The memory evaded Orielle's brain, along with an afterthought, 'So, is the trashcan my happy place?' that was not strong enough to reach her lips. It sure was peaceful though, inside the trashcan, away from people. 

Her little feet rocked to a beat of their own before strange giddy hands found their way to her buckled black shoes and unstrapped them with a swish. She squeaked an unpromising protest. 

There were laughs.

The voices brought familiarity she despised, a hiraeth she did not long for. Her thumbnails greeted her index finger with sharp caresses, teeth digging into the flesh of her cheeks as her brown eyes blew wide in fear, panicked irises, stomach rumbling, feet freezing and heart racing against time itself. 

"Guys! Look! Orbin's in the trash again and she got no shoes!"

"Ha! Wait till Mr. Smod catches her and makes a spectacle of her beating!"

Her breath hitched, she sunk her teeth harder, dug her thumbnails faster into her fingers, succumbing into herself. Her shoulders curling inwards as she tried to make herself smaller, further seeking refuge in the burial hosted by rotting food.

"Do not make haste; there is something better I can do!"

A snip, a tear, and Orielle could suddenly feel the sunlight attack her bare feet like hungry leeches to a fresh body. The yellow trash can felt like a happy jail. It protected her with the dregs that resided in it. 

"Look! Orbin has got holes in her socks! Torn socks! What rags!"

"I know, let's call her Orag! Or O'binrag! Oh! I know an even better! Binrag!"

And they laughed again. 

And she felt miserable again.

Oh! It was a cycle, a dreadful one, but it would soon end for the better. 

After all, All Good Things Take Time.

Unless you lose all sense of it.