《The Blood of Alice (A Novel)》 Prologue Alice woke up that night floating above her bed. Maybe it was the whisperings, lowly chanting, or the piercing, unnerving pain that was trying to kill her a second time. Thus far, she couldn¡¯t do much now but groans loudly like an injured animal awaiting its death. Sometimes, before dawn break, she would wake up with a sense of agonizing torment, but it was nothing compared to this god-awful feeling; this ugliness that had started eating itself away into her rotten soul. And when that warm light began circling its way around in sparks as though trying to heal what was left of an already broken body. Through a hollowing darkness were the tiny reflections of that one dreadful night started piercing it ways in, jumping and barking for her attention, till once again, it was only his sour plead that follows. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Chapter 1: Melancholia In the clear and wintry land, there weren¡¯t any clouds to block the frightening moon that couldn¡¯t be followed by a step. The kind that even if you run away and turn around to look, it follows. The moment heavens hang high aloft, and clouds darken, the last flock of doves disappears into the distance, bringing harsh winds blowing from the mountain up North. An edge to this murkiness engulfed the vast realm of Baerysian, bordered by the empire¡¯s daunting iron walls. Out on the country side far away under its ruled was Cleareta sitting across the deep sea water that winter, churning tides splashing on shores in icy particles, rocking on a bed of darkness anyone could drift away from. There lies the Valentina''s estate cover by rich meadow pastures and rows of trellised linden trees led to a stream nearby. Behind it was once a garden filled with Aemions, a sacred national flower of the empire was now being set highly aflame to ashes as black smoke rose freely toward the nearly cloudless sky. The familiar sound of a sharp blade resonates across the stone floor inside, dragging itself closer as it awaits the next victim, when suddenly a deep voice can be heard echoing through the structural stone wall of the foyer. ¡°Come here.¡± The man said while pulling forward a sword dripping with thick essence of blood. At the same time, Alice held onto her bleeding stomach, momentarily inching away until her frail back helplessly hit against the hard flat surface of a wall. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Alice,¡± he said almost in desperation, but there was no response to his crying plead. The man standing before her is Johnathan, a loyally devoted guard, accompanying side by side with her father in the Valentina''s household is holding onto the holy sword he has used to slice her precious sister¡¯s head off earlier, along with a haggard and worried look always lined in layers across his tired forehead. In front of the ferocious fireplace flickering, a disdainful shadow morphed into the face of a devil, peering down with those eyes she once trusted now turn a motionless grey. ¡°Now,¡± he persisted toward her trying to get away. ¡°Alice, please.¡± His nudging turns into frustration, making the more ominous aura circling the air around them. ¡°Child, you entered this house a fillet of society, servants, and attendants at your own feet without a care in the world. This heart-wrenching pain I have to endure every dreadful day because of them only double, and at the least of all, you wouldn¡¯t understand why I have to do this. So give me the key, Alice.¡± He repeated in the dizzy, head-resounding, deep silence. Johnathan had said the same thing earlier, but Alice had already promptly hid the key to her father¡¯s safe away, while right now she couldn¡¯t seem to wrap around the fact he had beheaded every single members in the house just a few hours prior. What did he mean by the word ¡®them¡¯? Something so vaguely said that it irritably occupied her mind to find out why this once soft spoken old man, who has sworn loyalty to the Valentina''s family, have cared for Alice and her sister since they were little dim-witted children, would turn into such a vindictive monster. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°No.¡± Shaking her head in disbelief. Did he have some apprehension? A shadow? And why hadn¡¯t she noticed these past few years that the spirit of this man was no longer within him anymore since father passing three months ago? His soul had already gone cold. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± ¡°Just hand it over to me, then it will all be over!¡± ¡°Who is ¡®them¡¯ Johnathan?¡± She asked again, her persuasive voice try nudging him for answers. Squeezing his eyes tight shut, the man came closer as if losing patience; he grabbed her by the throat with a sharp upward thrust and forced Alice up on her tiptoe as she gasped for air. ¡°Don¡¯t make this harder than it has to be, Alice, because I promise you the truth would only be more painful than your own death. Now tell me, where¡¯s the key?!¡± ¡°I¡­don¡¯t know.¡± Alice stuttered, clawing at his strong fist wrapping around her throat. ¡°Let...go!" ¡°Fuck this!¡± As he yells and threw her back on the ground, Johnathan tried avoid making any more contact with that sullen face before having the courage to take a massive heap, angrily raising the sword upward before swinging it down mercilessly toward Alice inevitable death. But a sudden impact reverberates, almost blasting him backward, strong wind blew rocks particle onto his cut face when the heaviness of the steel blade ceases in Alice¡¯s vigorous grasp, her right hands clutching onto the burning metal. Even Johnathan was too shaken to retreat as strange lights began appearing in front of him. Using every strength imaginable, she started pulling the man thrice her size to inch closer; the holy radiance magic had already begun boiling her flesh and blood, but the determination to rip their distance apart was even stronger. Raven¡¯s black hair covered part of that solemn face. Through the blur of salted tears dwelling down those hollow cheeks, she looked up at Johnathan with red-rimmed eyes. Her beauty highlighted his hideous appearance, her sorrow highlighted his immorality, and for the first time, she thought of him as an enemy. ¡°C..close your eyes...¡± He stuttered frighteningly as her grasp upheld his control over the heftiness of the sword. Even when Johnathan pressed harder and deeper down into her bone, Alice was unwilling to let go. ¡°Augustas will never forgive you;¡± Alice said in a crisp voice, reminding him of the existence of her able lord husband on his way back home from Bennyport, traveling on a merchant ship for the past months. ¡°Aren¡¯t you afraid if this gets to the King¡¯s court eyes and ears?¡± But her threat came to no avail when his action remained the same. With a smile spreading across that arrogant face, he said with mockery, ¡°Let¡¯s do your father one last favor together and burn this place down unburied and forgotten once a new nation reborn Alice, if anything, blame the great emperor who has failed us all.¡± Only when those words escaped his mouth did Alice¡¯s reasoning turn into more curiosity. She quickly pieces everything together but somehow a bit too shaken to find out the truth. ¡°Someone else is behind this, tell me, what is it you''re afraid of John? Tell me!¡± She begs, eyes sparked up, and voice becoming raspy, hoping for anything as hand still gripping tightly onto the blade that¡¯s slowly slicing itself through her fingers. Johnathan ignored her questioning; he signed and rolled his eyes. ¡°Let go, Alice.¡± The man coldly said, trying to pull away the bloody weapon, almost shaking from fear. Alice swallowed the metallic taste of blood down in lump and spoke again patiently, ¡°Johnathan.¡± Her gaze was frank, sensible. ¡°Don¡¯t do this, please.¡± She begged through gritted teeth; Almost inhumanly bending the hard iron within her palm. Shaken by those words, he forcefully took a step back as if Johnathan has heard her plead and came to his senses. Only to pull the blade sharpness away so quickly that it cuts off part of Alice''s melted fingers then he wield it up again within both hands and at once coldly impale her throat; slicing it off without a thought. When the red string of faith has split between them; every traced of hope has been silenced and the final thrash was bethrow upon her loose neck. Chapter 2: Bereshit 2. Something was rotten in the state capital. The emperor is dying, poisoned by his own son and the venom has lingered deep inside his tainted blood. Physicians poured through his main chamber in a storm of blue cloaks and leather poulaines. While there might be twenties or so servants squirming throughout the castle, worrying about their dying leader well-being. The head practitioner and advisor, Francis Antedo, however, was the only one leaning solemnly outside Morpheus¡¯s bedroom door with his head down and arms tucked together in solitude. On most surfaces, he seems hopeful, even rational, but in truth, the advisor knew they will never find the cure for this illness that had struck its last remaining hours. Earlier, he had stormed into a room that smelled of blood, and resinous incense when Francis sees the sorcerer standing by the emperor¡¯s bedside, hovering both her hands wide to cascade a calming blue aura over the feeble man lying in agony. Francis could see hints of fatigue under the woman¡¯s eyes as her power weakened every seconds she emit those blue luminance lights. ¡°Give us a moment, Fraya,¡± he nervously interrupted. The sorcerer hesitated before slowly gathering herself toward the door when she suddenly turned and warned Francis in a whisper. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen someone be sicken so quickly, I¡¯m afraid it might even be over before dawn.¡± She pressed to carefully examined his complextion, ¡°I¡¯ll be back once Leon gets here, but an advice to not rile him up Francis; He has already suffer enough.¡± She said, waiting for his nod in approval to her little spew did Fraya finally leave. When the door closes, was when the noble man finally erupted, ¡°Damn it, Morpheus!¡± Francis yelled when they were alone in the room. ¡°You knew all along this would happen, yet you still trusted that bastard. Now look what he has to repay us.¡± The man aggressively lowers himself to the emperor¡¯s bedside. ¡°An emperor killed by his own kin. How distasteful.¡± The emperor finally let out a slight laugh at his companion weirdly expression. He joked, ¡°Must you be so hurtful?¡± His laugh turned into a grunt as the pain hit him. ¡°What hurtful is his unforgivable crime, not my words, Your Highness.¡± The agony was written too plainly across his face; ¡°Isaax only did it because he had to. I won¡¯t blame him for wanting me dead.¡± Morpheus said, even in his final hour, the dying emperor bear no ill will. ¡°Morpheus¡­¡± The Black Seal is long gone with Isaax; everyone would be good as dead before your death anniversary even arrives, he wanted to say, but the words would not come out. Has the moment between life and death can change someone so greatly, even a unsentimental person like the emperor would say such bittersweet words. A lock of shiny white hair fell across his eyes as the man looked up. ¡°Francis,¡± Morpheus cried out, moving very slowly as if he were still dreaming. ¡°Leon¡­standing will falter as a bare king, only he can shield the realm from the darkness to the three lands now, upon my death¡­ to rule in my stead¡­help my son, Francis. Only you know what a wretched emperor I¡¯ve been. Make him be better than me.¡± His voice had been faint as a whisper. ¡°You-- ¡± Morpheus winced. ¡°Are you certain?¡± Francis asked quietly, sitting on scorching fire at the edge of the bed. Morpheus hesitated. He wanted to say something else but instead lifted his hand, the gesture pained and feeble. ¡°I have my reasons and I¡¯m sure you have yours but Leon is the last heir¡­our last hope. And The Rebels, it¡¯s all in the past now, Catherine¡¯s right... don¡¯t go after them anymore¡­their children¡­those kids are innocent, leave them be.¡± He said; the agony was written too plainly across Morpheus¡¯s face. Those words twisted his gut like sharp daggers. ¡°Promise me,¡± Morpheus pressed. The advisor remained silent for a while before letting out a thin smile; ¡°Do I look like a liar?¡± As they both shared a small laugh, he repeated, ¡°Promise me, Francis.¡± The spell had taken hold and fogged Morpheus¡¯s mind. He lowered himself to the bed; only when Francis gave him his word did the fear go out of Morpheus¡¯s eyes. May heaven¡­ be with you all. When those final thoughts escaped his trembling lips, Morpheus softly sagged himself into the pillow, and sleep took him. After those dreadful minutes, the disquiet advisor remembered nothing. His steps became weary and slumped to the side as he called for the servants and physicians. Minutes later outside the door with his head lowered in contemplation, waiting for some sort of miracle to happen if he would just close his eyes and walk away from the room reeking of death. Heavy chains jangled softly as a royal knight came up beside him to whisper quietly. ¡°Headmaster, Prince Leonitus has arrived.¡± The advisor hesitated before nodding in approval for the guard to leave. Remained still in a pose, Francis soon saw a tall figure quickly emerges from the steep stairwell. His striking short hair was as white as snow, and through those fierce greyish-blue eyes gazing straight ahead into the darkness carried deep hints of sorrow. Upon closer look, large ink stains can be visibly seen splashes all over the man¡¯s velvet cloak, blowing in between each step he took, spreading an even more ominous aura to his presence. Leon stops in front of the door, unable to let himself step inside just yet. ¡°How is he, uncle?¡± his voice grows impatient. He has only to look at the advisor to know that something is dreadfully wrong. ¡°They¡¯re doing everything within existing power, but the curse seems to have already taken a toll on him. We have tried to lessen his suffering, but only a miracle can heal what¡¯s left.¡± ¡°How long?¡± Leon asked. ¡°By rights he will not live past the night; neither the physicians nor Fraya know for certain, but only the dying man can tell how much time he has left.¡± Leon knew right away when a strange chill went through him, and without a word, he made his way toward the frigid coldness of the chamber. His jaw clenched with discomfort before turning the door handle ever so slightly, his heart pounding rapidly when the advisor suddenly placed a hand on his shoulder, gently nudging him backward. ¡°Leon,¡± Francis said as though trying to comfort him. But Leon¡¯s face was strangely empty as he spoke frankly, ¡°Don¡¯t let any servants disturb his rest aside from Fraya. And for certain, no one can know Isaax is responsible for this, at least not until I can find him back alive.¡± ¡°This is classified as a rebellion, he''d be good as dead upon returning to the capital," Francis argues. "I know, but Isaax couldn''t have done this without knowing he''d be catch and executed. My brother did this, only knowing he was going to be protected by someone other than us." Leon took a paused to sternly stare ahead, as if wanting the other person listening to pay attention to his next few words. "Uncle, it''s not Issax I want. If you wish to find the predator, you have to follow its prey first." Francis nodded his head and questions; "You think his backer is a person to hold this much greater power?" This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Thinking in quick cleared thoughts he said. ¡°I''m certain, but this matter shall be discussed in another time, right now I need Atlas to send out an imperial decree to find sorcerers all across the land and gather them here at the capital within a week, I want every single one of them, if they refuse, offer whatever it takes for their forthcoming.¡± The advisor gave him a look then a tiny curve of satisfaction protrude past his lip before he gave Leon a definite nod; ¡°At your command, Your Highness.¡± When Francis left him to say his final good bye, the perfect evenness of Leon¡¯s temper, a rare and valuable quality in a sovereign, held no restraint. i. A grand funeral for the emperor has commenced for three days straight inside the golden palace. A coffin covered in glitters and diamonds felt unlike the man lying inside, carried by twenty-one knights in shining armors, and hundreds of nobilities follow behind, can be seen making way to the House of Prayer. The street capital was filled with people throwing golden Aemion flowers across the pathway, and for the first time in years, the gleaming castle bells rang like a sorrowful song for the death of their leader. Leon was present from the embalming to the burial; the moment he saw the silky fabric of the radiant sun symbol covering the hollow-out face of his father, a certain unpleasantness ran through him. Maybe, only because the prince knew he was soon to be the next person laying there. Even worse, Francis had reminded Leon he was supposed to cry. No one knows if it is because of the drugs the young prince has taken to reduce his long illness of insomnia or if he is genuinely dead inside. Still, those tired grey eyes have yet to shed any ounce of sympathy for his creator. Inside the prayer house, looking out toward the crowd of unfamilliar faces as the Arch Pheonix recited deep prayers to the entire capital while standing on a massive altar. Francis, who has been standing at the side since the beginning, whispered closely into Leon''s ears; ¡°Apparently, only one captain has made it back to shore in Clereta, Your Highness; five of their ships have been hijacked; their sailors tortured and hung by pirates when acrossing near by water of the Aldebaran¡¯s territory.¡± Leon had a slight bitterness in his mouth. Hands clutching on the sword strap beside his waist. Under Aldebaran kingdom ruled by Authur Maddon one man with a primary objective for a massive territorial expansion, dominating all lands for a revival of historical greatness. Along the way, he ideology of purity has cost a massacre of more than millions people, he calls The Others. ¡°What else?¡± He asked. Francis looked apprehensive. ¡°Xodon said he saw them hoisted the Aldebaran¡¯s kingdom banner for a peaceful turnover. Considering this as a warning from Arthur, once you¡¯re crowned. I suggest we should postpone your enthrone, till we learn about your brother¡¯s whereabouts.¡± He did not wait for a reply. ¡°You are his last threat, Leon. If anything were to happen, it would be your blood to shed these halls.¡± Francis has just reminded Leon of how much he hated being threathen, the suffocation makes him felt unruly. ¡°My death should be the least of your worries. Every moment we delay gives them another chance to be prepared. Then there won¡¯t be any blood left to shed these halls.¡± As he took a breather, staring intensely at the stained glassed window illuminate by sunlight sweeping through the white palace, Leon turned to look out into the sea of nobility sitting among one another across ten rows of painted wood pews. He took a glanced at the familiar middle-aged man wearing a red beret, who seemed to be sitting on the edge of his seat this entire time. Leon slightly hissed in amusement, before leaning over to whisper quietly into Francis¡¯s ear. Only when the Arch Pheonix concluded his speech, marking an end to the day of interment, did a sudden relief hit the atmosphere in Baerysian¡¯s capital. Outside, between the crowds of people slowly exiting the sanctuary, the man in the red beret was Lord Bartton can be seen lingering inside the narthex with a slight seriousness protruding across his face. He taps his foot against the pavement, anxiously waitting As though seeing the right person he has been yearning for, the man exclaimed in excitement seeing the advisor emerges though the door, along with his guard. ¡°Francis!¡± He called for the advisor, ¡°A moment, please, if you would be so kind.¡± The advisor stopped. ¡°Lord Bartton, shouldn¡¯t you be on your way to the banquet tonight?¡± ¡°I was but¡­¡± Bartton hesitated, eyeing down the guard in front of him. Following his eyeline, Francis quickly understood and hesitantly gestured for the knight to back away. Only then did the man continue his word without glancing warily among his surroundings. ¡°Morpheus was never a man to leave his throne so easily; it has come a surprise to us all that this would be his end of the rope because of old age.¡± He leaned closer. ¡°Has he named you the new sovereign?¡± ¡°Lord Bartton, this doesn''t seem like an appropriate time to discuss such matters.¡± ¡°By that, he must have already placed Leonitus as the next regency; if that¡¯s true, then this is our time, Francis.¡± Francis frowned. ¡°Our time?¡± ¡°Strike! Now, while he still trusts you.¡± Lord Bartton looked around again and dropped his voice to a whisper. ¡°I know your nephew like the back of my hand, and I doubt the boy knows what bad there is to come upon his upcoming enthrone.¡± His words left Francis stunned for a few seconds. Earlier, Leon had took the liberty of whispering quietly to him something upon the alter, after he had saw Lord Bartton in between the massive crowd of people. ¡°Bartton is a headstrong tiger but holds no value in being merciful when seeing a lost deer in the wild.¡± Leon said, shining a bit of clarity onto the confusing advisor. ¡°Your Majesty.¡± Francis said, leaving a questionable look toward his nephew as though trying to read his hard gaze and while he supposedly understood his vague words. The advisor seem to be wondering, how long this little boy has been pretending to stay oblivious until this very moment. How much more does he knows about the people trying to get rid of him? ¡°Francis?¡± Bartton distance voice came into view. ¡°Did you hear what I said?¡± He rushed. ¡°I see.¡± Francis mumbled to himself and turned away, slowly make his way down the endless hallway, following closely from behind was Bartton continuing in a whisper. ¡°You¡¯ve always been a follower, Francis; take a stand to serve the people for a change so he will do anything you say, drag him by the nose, whatever you must do to get upon the throne by rights.¡± ¡°You¡¯re talking about an uprising inside the House of Prayer sire. Aren¡¯t you afraid the gods might not spare you?¡± Francis let out a slight laughter. Bartton took a step back and hissed under his breath. ¡°Gods or not, the man who holds the emperor holds the empire; this heaven on land would be wasted in the hand of an incompetent soon.¡± He continues. ¡°But that can all change, you¡¯ve already gotten the upper hand; without your help, he will never sit on that throne either way. A wise man like yourself should always think for your own benefit; make certain of Leon¡¯s success and confine him as your sword.¡± Francis gave him an enlightened look and questions. ¡°Then what will happen, if I were to betrayed you Lord Bartton?¡± ¡°You don''t have the guts Francis, if you wanted this empire could''ve been easily handed over to someone competant, but I know your loyalty to this country stood above anything else and it will forever be like that, no matter who its ruler might be. So think again my brother." They finally stop by a massive stone planter as Bartton extend his arms out to catch an Ameions on its branches and crush the pulp with rough fingers before continuing. "The Marquess in Clereta is already by command with thousands personal guards at the ready; a king of any land should be afraid of our join union.¡± ¡°The Marquess in Clereta, you say. I thought the Valentinas bare no taste for such intrigues.¡± ¡°They didn¡¯t, at least until the title was passed down to their only survivor, after that massive fire.¡± He said with a sign before continuing; ¡°The poor boy had just gotten back from Bennyport when he heard the news of his wife¡¯s death. When I last saw him, Augustas hadn¡¯t slept for days trying to find out what was left of their ashes.¡± Bartton shook his head in grievances. ¡°What seem to be the cause?¡± Asked Francis narrowing his eyebrows. The man gave him a weary nod; ¡°God knows, but I do think that sly fox Arnell had always planned for his son to become the head of the Valentinas, maybe this could¡¯ve been one of his many scheme. Though I must say, it had worked out quite perfectly.¡± Bartton chucked as they both walk past each column before fading into the distance. By the time Lord Bartton bid farewell to Francis on his carriage, the guard being sent away earlier could now be seen standing quietly behind one of the massive pillars. Under the heavy dark mask covering part of his solemn face was Prince Leonitus. For a second he thought of his mother whom traded her own lives the other hundreds looming at chance to strikes back. In the distance Francis can be seen running back in a hurry, his face beam with worries. Only when the out of breath advisor stood infront of him did Leon finally spoke while staring out toward the gate ahead. "I need you to send out another messenger again for Duke Grayan before sunset. Urge for his immidiate return." Leon took a paused to carefully pick at the flowers nearby with it yellow bulb dangling between the wind in a stone planter before continuing. "It''s time his notorious good luck can finally come in to great use." Francis hesitated before making his final with uneasiness. He knew Leon conscience was conflicted from what Bartton had said earlier but that didn¡¯t depart him from the critical reality that they needed to find a savior, a protector, and most of all a sacrifice to lure out the true dark essence of the land below. Chapter 3: The Grayans (1) Winter has arrived, out in the lurking of Wasteland wintry, the realm-barricaded walls shivered by tyrant creatures stomping their claws through the endless wilderness far ahead. Silence hung in the air, punctured only by the churn of the tides separating Baerysian¡¯s border from miles of heavy thickets; its currents clogged with sticks and stones and the residue of decay continued lingering. Somewhere within the North Capital Wall, Alice reflected on memories of Johnathan''s words set deeply inside her mind. Her heart beat at an inhuman pace as if everything was trying to force its way out. And the whispering. My god, the whisperings, even the sound of children laughing and people talking way, way off in the distance, could be heard loud and clear, driving her into complete madness. Alice let out a displeased grunt, covering both her ears in fright once the wind started churning harshly outside the broken window. Till it became so scaringly strong that the latch suddenly broke wide open, letting in an intense storm of cold breeze come trapesing inside. Only then did her bold eyes shoot open, and she felt gravity taking back its hold, creating a deafening thud that echoed repeatedly into the silent night. When Alice fell onto the dense mattress, breaking the bed frame in half. Her head felt dizzy with a slight fever and numbness all over; for a moment, she lay inert in the mattress. The pungent medical incense was suffocating to breathe in, and with eyes quivering in the strange darkness, she felt a blanket placed over her waist was warm and reeking of sweat. Alice forced herself to roll over, still trembling from exhaustion. Everything was blurry before it became clear under a half-burnt candle left gently faltered by the draft weaving past an open window. ¡°Uh¡­¡± Running a hand through bundles of loose hair on top of her head, but it was shorter than she had remembered, Alice frowned at herself with dismay and glanced furtively across the crowded room, but when she swung both her arms and feet one at a time only to find it being skinnier, almost frighteningly scrawny to be exact. For a moment, she had mistaken this for another dream when she felt the still intact neck to be the only clogging reality, until her foot hit against a cold object that made Alice quickly retreat onto the broken bed; She finally realized this wasn¡¯t any usual circumstances. Everything felt different yet familiar and as she squint those tired eyes a bit further; Red brick wall covered the circle room, side to side everything was stack in bundles of mostly bottles, red liquid potions and wet yellow papers scattering all over the floor like a squall of rain had just passed through and that was the last thing she saw before her vision once again gone blur and the deafening voices returns. No matter how much Alice aggressively scratched and rubbed it continuously for the past few minutes, as she wiggled her fingers in front of her face, felt the air move swiftly, and saw nothing. All the whispering was sensitively louder; the frequency of individual molecules arranging through every living being in this world and their movements started to overwhelm her one after another. The tickle of warm liquids began dripping from both her ears in heavy drops before the faint coppery scent reached the air. ¡°God,¡± Alice whispered, feeling the thick fluid flow out between her fingers. Fighting the urge to vomit from dizziness, she staggered across the room in desperation for anyone¡¯s help, She fumbled in the blur of nothingness and with hands swept in panic onto a nearby table full of porcelain jars, which she accidently swept onto the stone floor, breaking each one piece by piece underneath her feet. The hundred shards stuck to her skin, cutting way deep into her heels as Alice fell helplessly backward from the shocking pain, her head inevitably smack against the bed frame made of hardwood. Hunkered down in the darkness, Augustas and Johnathon''s morph faces appeared like an apparition, sometimes she could hear only his voices too, but always from a long way off, and doesn¡¯t matter if she ran after it relentlessly, it would grow fainter and fainter until it faded away and Alice was alone in the dark again. She hugged her knees tight against her chest and shivered constantly, waiting for someone to come and save her from this hellish nightmare that began eating its way into her consciousness. Suddenly, the bedroom door creaks open, returning a sort of warm ambiance in the damp room, cascaded only by the hallway lights. A female voice loudly whispered, ¡°Young mistress?¡± Her soft tone cut through the quiet night of the forbidden tower. Alice raised her sharp eyes with her lip pulling into a thin line, unable to utter any words. But her mind ran like a wildfire; had they come to finish her off? She thought, keeping her heavy eyes wide open, hands gripping onto a piece of broken glass by her feet. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°Mistress?¡± The voice asked once again, this time a bit louder, afraid that Alice hadn¡¯t heard her correctly earlier. Reluctantly, Alice turns toward the direction of the blackout figure, still a bit shaken. The girl wearing a thin nightgown lowered herself inside, relighting the oil lantern hung on the wall in a quick hurry. Faint yellow lights begin to protruded across part of the dingy brick room, leaving behind still a hint of unending gloominess when deep horror started to set in the girl''s face, as she took a few steps back upon witnessing her mistress lying in a puddle of broken glass, and beneath those pale feet now stain a discolor red liquid oozing slowly onto the stone floor. ¡°Good heavens, thank god you''re awake!¡± She yelped in shock, not forgetting to gently close the door behind her before hurrying over. Kneeling herself down to Alice''s eye level to see the gentleness spark inside the lady''s pupils now turn seemingly unnatural. She grabbed the mistress right ankle and placed it firmly onto her lap, soaking a puddle of blood onto the ghostly white nightgown, but the maid didn¡¯t care. She tried to observe the harsh injury with her fingers before squinting her eyebrows in frustration, picking out each piece of glass carefully into a nearby pile. ¡°What did you do to yourself?!¡± She asked while worryingly looking up every few seconds, still hesitating whether or not to ask more of her many thousand questions. ¡°You.¡± Alice finally utters quietly, the body still trembling. ¡°Where is this? Where¡¯s Augustas?¡± ¡°Who?¡± She asked mindlessly, still occupied by the mistress''s bloody injury. ¡°It¡¯s just us here in this tower, miss.¡± The girl held onto Alice''s bleeding foot as she continuously tried to pull away. Taking in a deeper breath, Alice jerked her head up, trying to understand the maid more clearly now. Though it was very rare in Clereta for someone to have the liquid accents of the Luzia Cities like her mother, most people who spoke them were deemed traitors half a world away by King Arthur. He has ordered an arrest for all Luzian upon his enthrone as a way of purifying the Aldebaran kingdom, but never had Alice thought she would be able to hear a woman speak this forgotten language again so clearly. ¡°Who do you work for!?¡± Alice asked, almost out of breath. The maid ignores her question, picking out another piece of glass against Alice''s struggle. ¡°Please stay still, my lady!¡± She said bitterly. Alice reeks of desperation, and she hunches over the seam of her nightgown, tearing away threads like a bird picking at herself. That shame was a shambling thing behind her, chasing her onward, striving her to do the worst. ¡°Name,¡± Alice said firmly, her tone rigged with agitation, she held onto the piece of broken glass, that was still in her hand from earlier and pressed in toward the maid''s neck. Confusion once again hit the young girl''s face like a slap of cold water, she look up in horror as Alice started leaning closer and with her bare hand, she reaches toward the maid''s collar, yanking it slightly upward for their eyes to align; Even though Alice couldn¡¯t see clearly, the girl rapid heartbeats stick out like a sore thumb. ¡°Your name.¡± She asked again more erringly, still holding onto the sharp weapon. Tears began filling the maid¡¯s eyes sockets as she said shakingly with a frown, ¡°It¡¯s Ida, miss, it¡¯s me. Have you forgotten so soon? Please put down the glass!¡± Ignoring her cries, she lingers her grasp around Ida¡¯s collar, Alice says defeatedly. ¡°How can I forget when I don¡¯t even know who you are? I need to know where this is.¡± She continued to question the unfamiliar girl; ¡°Tell me, where is Johnathan?¡± Ida held her breath, the maid deny in worry, ¡°I swear mistress, I¡¯ve never heard of such a name in this tower before,¡± her eyes strained looking at the mistress in distress. Alice grew impatient and gripped her collar more firmly and grunted. ¡°I want the truth!¡± Ida stuttered, ¡°Maybe c..could you possibly mean by one of Grayan¡¯s guards?¡± Alice''s grip tightened, and feeling the blood coursing through her fist, she asked. ¡°Who is that?¡± The maid''s eyes widened, and her voice became weary and distraught, unable to speak when she felt the atmosphere lower down rapidly to the point Ida could see her breath linger in the dry air. While the floor beneath them felt solid ice, she shakingly said, ¡°It¡¯s you.¡± Hot tears came down in heavy streams, along with snot dripping from her nose. ¡°You¡¯re the mistress of the castle, Alicea Grayan. They work for you; we all work for you.¡± Ida corrected herself with sullen eyes. She halted in her grip and eventually let go of Ida. Alice dropped the weapon from her bleading hand to slumped down against the bed frame and stared at the candlelight by the entrance in emptiness. The flame flickered and swayed, the shadows moved around them, and the room seemed to grow darker and colder, but her body was already burning up. A draft of cold air blew past her cheek; only then did the voices grow fainter until everything around her turned into complete darkness. Poor Alice, couldn''t possibly know at this very moment, all of the people she has trusted with all her heart are now raising their glasses to celebrate at a banquet filled with superficial nobilities in Clereta, as a woman said in a loud cheer: "To the death of the Valentinas and in memories of my departed, dear sister, Alice!" The innocent young girl who was supposed to be dead along with her family are now beaming with a healthy sinister smile across her face, she look over at Augustas standing with an awkward smile before continuing. "And to a new nation reborn be under King Authur Maddon!" The surrounding cheers of drunken people awaken the lonely night, everyone was ecstatically dancing and drinking except for a gentlemen with white hair sitting within the dark corner, hidden between the crowd, with only a black cloak to cover away his identity. Chapter 4: The Grayans (2) It was said Victor Grayan was the luckiest man in the capital, maybe all of the Baerysian empire. His ships passed through every storm unscathed. While on his way to the Wasteland close south along with his men to look for golds and silvers, his crew has always found it. Blight never struck his land and his roof never leaked unless he was thirsty and in need for a drink. Account for the fact that he had achieved the rank of a Duke with a powerful military and was accepted in the best circles. The perfect old man that he is, Victor however, has never been fortunate enough to see his daughter since she was born; After his wife''s death, Victor couldn¡¯t bear to see anyone else and decided to take off into faraway land for three months that turn into years. Pictures of his painted portraits with her mother hung in the gallery hall were the only thing little Alicia saw for the past eighteen years. She was sure that at any moment, she¡¯d see him with his massive black beard walking through that door and looking at her with his eyes cold, wet, and green as a mossy stone; Just like her nanny had described. Maybe he would come. Or maybe she would die from this retched illness, though now there was no reason for her to be remembered. Maybe Alicia would never see the man she¡¯s supposed to call father and her lifeless body would simply be hauled into a grass field and burned by one of the head maids. Yet tangled in those fears there was a sense of anticipation. There was some small pleasure in the secrets that Alicia has kept to herself all these years, her imprisonment to their obnoxious calling, constantly ringing for her attention, will finally be over. ¡°Please let me out!¡± Crept in the quiet darkness of the cellar disconnected from the main so no one could hear her scream, still Alicia can be heard begging for her life. The maids started to gather outside the door in snickering whispers, leaving behind a dignified women standing behind as they all bow to her in respect before leaving. The shadowy figure stood by the entrance slowly turn around and said with sharpness. ¡°You may come out when you learn to behave like a proper lady.¡± ¡°I only went outside to find something to eat, nothing more, I swear.¡± ¡°Breaking the nightly protocol, do you take me for a fool Alicia?¡± The woman left the door and came closer, carrying the lantern in her wrinkly hand as she held it closer to that frightening face, spreading a sinister smile. ¡°You¡¯re planning to go frolicking around with a man, aren¡¯t you? Don¡¯t you know that¡¯s a serious crime for an unmarried woman like yourself?¡± She clicked her tongue in disapproval. Alicia violently shook her head, ¡°I wasn¡¯t!¡± She yelled. ¡°But what if I said that you were? I can say anything, make up any obscure scenarios and anyone would believe me. I can even frame you for murder if I want to! Because I own this land, it¡¯s mine, not yours!¡± Her sentence trails off without any patience. Alicia''s hands shook violently, her fingers went numb and she felt a surge of coldness engulfing every part of her being. The lingering bitterness soaked her mouth as it felt like the sharpening edge of a knife had sliced her throat open. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Clara scoffed under her breath, ¡°Why you¡¯re still holding onto this life is beyond me. You have no one to care for you, just like your mother, you¡¯re stubborn and foolish,¡± she walked around the cellar, using a bucket fill with water and pour it onto the dirt ground. Gasoline smell flooded the old cellar, wet soil grounds clumped together, it became cold and uneven to stand on with her barefoot as Alicia continued to struggle; The woman threw away the bucket and continued in an uneven tone, ¡°I never thought of her as a sister in law. Not now, not ever. do you know why Alicia?¡± She smiled rummaging through her pockets and taking out a matchbox. Such a degrading voice pierced her ears but Alicia decided to lay low. ¡°Why?¡± She asked. ¡°Since you¡¯ve never met her, I¡¯ll let you in on who she is, the woman with an awful carefreeness that you happen to inherited was the greatest misfortune to the Grayan, I was happy she died after giving birth to you. Tho I must say, Elanna was quite beautiful and elegant enough to seduce Victor. But everything from her body to that face, so amazingly gorgeous I want to slice that head right off,¡± she sneered in disgust. Alicia''s hands shook violently, and in a shaking tone she grunted, ¡°You¡¯re a monster!¡± ¡°What you need to understand is that my brother should have never married a wretched woman like her. The real monster is not me dear, it¡¯s the one who killed her, I only gave you a helping hand.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll tell father everything.¡± ¡°Oh my, Alicia,¡± she gently grazed the matches in hand. ¡°But do you think you can live that long enough to see him?¡± ¡°I will, I will live so people like you can be brought to justice.¡± ¡°Justice?¡± Aunt Clara broke into a laugh, looking at her nephew in disbelief, her smile turned twisted as she took a single match and struck it, friction igniting the match head to convert to white phosphorus lit up the room. Under that faint silence, Alicia''s breathing became louder, her hands gripped tightly onto the nightgown and like that, she saw Clara drop the tiny light onto the floor; igniting a chain of dark smoke rapidly expanding throughout the room. Alicia curled herself against the stone wall, feeling as though the sky was crumbling beneath her feet when she heard the door to the cellar creak open. Raising her head ever so slightly, in shaking teary eyes, Alicia said loudly, not caring she was suffocating in the smoke. ¡°I¡¯ll see you in hell Clara.¡± But the shadow pretended not to hear her and took off, not forgetting to lock the cellar door tightly shut. There was no way in or out, all she could do was wait for the flame to engulf her sickly body. While Alicia''s eyes began to close, she sometimes felt a lot of anger at how little weight she had in this world, how little Alicia had to keep her from being caught up in the wind and scattered like dust swept on the stoop as she became weaker. She couldn¡¯t blame her father¡¯s absence, or even some ancestor on her shadowy family¡¯s tree. For years, Alicia only blamed herself, willing to be cast away inside that tower for eternity. But when the voices suddenly returned to bring her back through the depth of hopelessness. ¡°Wake up!¡± It echoes. Her eyes shot open, breathing dominates her tight chest as Alicia already sees the fire has burned off everything as it reaches her. She could feel the pain, a sharp stinging sensation to a dull throbbing ache, repeatedly taking hold of her mind. As Alicia screamed in agony, she couldn¡¯t do much but accept her faith when she felt the skin start melting itself slowly away. Outside smoke reaches the entire outdoors of the cellar, and no one cares to stay and watch as tiny drops of rain reach the ground bringing back the peacefulness of Duke Grayan''s estate.