《Legacy Fragments》


 The Tsunami Confronting the Master

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    -


    At almost midnight, soundlessly a candy swirl appeared on the opposite wall of the futon where Hoshijiro and Orion lay. The very same room that Cifer and Rannith had peered in on previously that day, Frostine more than effortlessly negated all trips for alarm. While Orion had fallen asleep long before, Hoshijiro stayed up with a small candlelight as he read the spicy book Pumpkin had given him to help pass the time.


    Gently Frostine stepped through, her hooves hardly making a noise on bamboo mats but still leaning against the wall to prevent any kind of disturbance. Nothing was said between the young Yakuza Lord and The Circus Showman, who stared at each other in awkward silence as they both listened to the footsteps of one of the Samurai walking by in the halls. Once they had passed, Frostine tentatively took a step forward "You didn''t alert the guard or push me away..." she whispered with an excited glee in her eye.


    Standing up Hoshijiro shook his head no while closing his book and tucking it away. I think I''m ready to hear what the ringmaster has to say. Frostine took one of his hands in hers excitedly whispering "I''m so excited! Mom has been looking forward to meeting you for some time now. She said it wouldn''t take long and she''ll be so grateful for your time and consideration. I''m sure." "How long will be the stay?" He asked. Frostine stilled, her posture relaxing momentarily as she closed her eyes and concentrated before springing back to herself. "She said bring small sentimental things but not too much. Whatever will make a prolonged stay more comfortable." He simply nodded and said, "Then I have all I need with me."


    With a small curtsey, Frostine will hold out her hand towards him to take as he does hesitantly but firmly. The travel will be short, but it would be best to take a deep breath, count to ten and we''ll be there. Frostine smiled back at him while leading him closer to the wall and they both stepped through. The room seemingly lost all color in a black and white, never-ending abstract landscape. Holding out her other hand, a large shape pushed through the floor, rising and grazing against her fingertips, and out they stepped through her signature design into a large dimly lit room.


    By taking in the surroundings that he could see it is easy to conclude that this room was close to the center of an expansive big-top tent by the way the ceiling started to curve up rather dramatically but was cut off before reaching the full height. A large velvet red curtain cut the room into two parts, stopping him from seeing what was on the other side and whom.


    With a quick wave, Frostine turned and headed out, leaving him in the room alone. There was silence for a long moment before he gradually stepped forward, approaching the curtain when he heard a voice from the other side speak "You can stop there now." It wasn''t much said but it was enough for him to be able to hear the old Ringmaster''s ailment hanging heavy in her voice.


    "Is it contagious?" He asked with not an ounce of sympathy for her. "Not particularly. Not if there was a lot of effort put into it but that''s not needed." she answered. "You wanted to talk business that couldn''t be done anywhere else, what is it?" he asked of her again. Without just yet answering a gilded bird cage reached up out of the ground with vines twisting around and between the bars, locking him into place. He didn''t flinch nor make a sound as he only crossed his arms cause he already understood the situation he was walking into. "You''re a young man with a heart full of love, bleeding for a woman who never came back." the ringmaster spoke, through the curtain. "You''re wrong." he said "she didn''t leave me and she will come back again." "Will she?" she asked, a hint of a smile formed on her lips. "I trust her completely that she will come to look for me and she will find me again." he said taking a challenging step forward in the confinement. "You truly have a heart of gold." she said "Don''t try to patronize me." he snapped, "I only came here because WE wanted answers and I demand that after all this effort you went through, its time you explain yourself." There was a moment of pause, the Ringmaster, amused. "Hoshijiro, little wave, you don''t always need all the answers to everything. Sometimes you just need to take that small leap of faith and just decide." He scowled at the curtain separating the two, despite being simply only a few feet apart from each other, he knew where was the last time he heard those words, it did not come from her or anyone else that had anything to do with any goddess forsaken circus. "So, you did your research and yet I don''t get to know anything about you." "There''s not much about me To Know." "I think differently, like how you''re stalling." "I call it dramatic suspense."


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    At the foolishness of it all, his patience slowly started to slip the longer he was stuck in a cage he couldn''t escape, in a place he didn''t know on a world that hadn''t yet even been charted on any star map. "I guess I misunderstood you for someone who would take things seriously. Is your business with Harmond? If you hurt pumpkin, then I''ll send you back to the goddesses myself." Water began to trickle down from the horns adorning the top of his head and whip around him as an agitated leviathan. (in humored nature) "Goodness no. I would never confide in the assistance of a BEAST." she said, even laughing at the thought. "But would you hurt her? not particularly. I don''t have a reason to want to hurt her." "And your daughter? Frostine wouldn''t even hurt a fly for as far as she knows that it is a fly." "Would you help her?" "Of course, as any mother wou-" cutting off the ringmaster, he interjected "Pumpkin. And her party". Thinking about it a moment she answers, "I could~ but I don''t see a reason to." "You know what they''re facing, and you know they could use the help. We have nothing to further talk about if you won''t even consider it nor tell me what it is you want, and I WILL leave. Cause I know you need me more than I need you." "Hmm, you think so? Want and need are two completely different things. Aren''t they clever boy?"


    The vines seceded from the bars as some of the water that had built up and coiled around him spilled out through. Collecting the water from around itself, the serpent, to Hoshijiros control, rushed to the curtain intending to strike through but growing slower and slower till it stopped millimeters from the velvet fabric. A melody sounded behind the curtain, of a music box, slowing his senses down incredibly slow. At first, it started with dizziness, next his vision started to blurring out, and not too long after, his head, chest, hands, and feet pulled down on his body, cementing him in place till he could no longer hold his own weight.


    Softly, in a whisper, the ringmasters voice speaking in a Sprechgesang that can just barely be heard. "Love never dies nor does it falter. Even when the heart is broken, love will endure"


    Through the sleep, words can be heard echoing. Envision of a beautiful dream one that would never end.


    Despite wanting to resist, inside there was a longing in his heart he couldnt ignore. This longing was a simple place, with a tree on a hill on a perfect summer day, resting in the shade, pumpkin off a bit of a ways as she sparred with her teacher, smiling and laughing while wearing the gift he had just given to her. Orion sat next to him keeping him up to date with the lives of all the people who had worked for them and how their lives are faring before scolding him as she always does about his indecision in his own life. He knew on the other side, sitting opposite of the tree Rannith was there, probably watching Pumpkin as she sparred but his presence wasn''t unwanted, especially seeing that she was happy around him in the short time they got to see each other again.


    It all felt so real, the grass under him, the rough bark against his back, the occasional gentle breeze, and the peering sun.


    It felt too real...


    Carefully, the Ringmaster picks up the scarf that Hoshijiro had clung to, he now dropped. Delicately folding it up, she stroked the fabric that sat on top, admiring the attention to detail in its craftsmanship. "You should pity those who don''t feel anything at all Pierrot."

 The Mad Inventor

    William Z. Patrick: The Mad Inventor


    William Zion Patrick, also known Will Z. P., is a philosopher and inventor of many things in the arcana. Famously known for one of his earliest essays when applying to Maegiths School of Arcana on his theory of teleportation which led to the world teleportation ability that is now used in many things used in people''s everyday lives such as (personal teleportation devices), inter-astral shipping ports, trade centers and the adventurer''s guild.


    After graduating University Will continued to study the arcana through his own experiments as well as working independently for various of companies and starting one of the first inter-astral research facility, specializing in the arcana.


    Later in life Will became more and more obsessed with his work which slowly driven him to madness by unknown source, weather it was due to personal folly or over-exposure to Minthansi''s aura. Due to this madness, after consulting in The Architect (Another name Goddess Vontor goes by), Will had been permanently banished from all temples due to the madness and way of addressing the goddesses. In following years, more radical groups formed circulated due to the incident at the temple and had initiated guerrilla warfare against the many research facilities until the company was forced to close their doors.


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    It was during this time that William Z. Patrick had completely gone missing and his whereabouts have been unknown ever since. Some speculate that he had been driven completely into madness that he caused his own demise, some theorize that he might have been inside one of the research facilities when they got burned down, some believe that he had offended the goddesses that they would have smite him down, while some believe that he had a moment of clarity mixed with shame for what he''s done that he ended his own life. No Evidence had been found to prove any theory now has his body ever been found and most records of his contribution to the field of research and technology was erased from history due to the events that have occurred.


    In the wake of his disappearance, some researchers who had formerly worked in William''s research facilities believed in the research he conducted and that removing his name from history was purely unjust and in time formed a group that was called The Mad Scholars. Known mad scholars were actively prosecuted by society or exiled until they too disbanded and disappeared, just like their founder.

 Cifers G00d Dr3@m

    During this night¡¯s sleep, you (Cifer) would have a rather peaceful dream. In this dream, you had just walked through the door into Pumpkins apartment, and everyone was there. You are aware that this is a dream but it¡¯s a peaceful one. Pumpkin was over by the couch trying to convince Kyo about letting her give them a massage as she finished giving one to Rannith, finally not being lewd. Bjorn was at the counter of the kitchen talking with Atticus who sat on one of the bar stools next to Devana, Eva (the captain of Vivians royal guard), and Caine all just chilling. Guenevere and Jesse cuddled on one of Pumpkins chairs while Seraphina, Vivian, Frostine and Bjorn¡¯s wife all talked while also playing with Bjorn¡¯s two youngest, Dasha and Gavriil. Dawn and Frank seem to be setting something up on Pumpkins TV but haven¡¯t decided what to agree on.


    The atmosphere is nice, refreshing even. The costal breeze reaching further this morning than it usually does and bringing with it a cool air. There seemed to be almost a weight lifted off of you, one you¡¯ve never realized you have been carrying with you for so long but only now really got the chance to take ease in relaxing. You can feel some gentle bandaging around your horns and your tail, not from any kind of injury but almost as if it itches a bit more than what it should. Which this should be surprising since besides any kind of scraping or scratching, you haven¡¯t felt anything on your tail in such a conventional manner since before you sold your soul to Harmond. It feels like its healing.


    Seeing you come in, Atticus will turn and get up to greet you by the door ¡°Hi. You were taking a bit long; I was worried you would miss the party.¡±


    (After they say their hellos, Frostine will wave nervously. Gentle character interactions will take course)


    (When the opportunity presents itself or when Cifer asks Frostine to come over)


    Walking over Frostine will fidget with her fingers a bit as she rocks back a bit on her hooves while standing in place. ¡°I know you asked for some time to think about it, but did you ask my mom to come? Cause it would kinda take her a bit to get here and I would really hate for her to miss everything if she is coming.¡±


    (If Cifer says no)


    ¡°Oki. I¡¯ll just have to tell her all bout it then and take pictures.¡± She¡¯ll say excitedly. It would be a rather nice and peaceful dream besides that.


    (If Cifer says yes)


    ¡°Oki! I¡¯m so excited, did you see her on the way over? She might have been wearing a hat and...¡± As Frostine goes on to start her description, there will be a ring on the doorbell. From over by the couch, Pumpkin will call over You were the last to get here you open the door.


    (Room for interaction)


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind, I¡¯ll get it¡± Frostine will still rush over to the door and open it excitedly, her tail wagging even faster than the usual constant tuft of pink blur it is on her lower back. Opening the door a very tall woman in all black will bend down and step through the door. She wore almost shoulder-length silk opera gloves, and a floor-length cocktail dress. A black shawl wrapped around her shoulders and a fascinator hat tilted to the left side with the veil covering her whole head and face down to just above her shoulders. While the whole outfit was rather beautiful, very conservative, there was no way to hide the very frail figure of the woman that obviously results in her poor constitution.


    Frostine very gently led the woman into the room, and she spoke softly to her daughter ¡°My child, I would like to meet the young hero you¡¯ve been telling me about.¡± leading the woman in for a couple steps, Frostine looked back over to you (Cifer) for any nod of approval or disapproval.


    (Cifer says no: Frostine will tell the ring master he in front of her


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    (Cifer says yes: Frostine will bring the ringmaster closer so that Frostine could guide her hand to Cifers cheek so she can touch his face and see him.)


    ¡°Well, I see. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, young man. I hope you don¡¯t mind my attire for such a lively occasion and doesn¡¯t ruin the mood. My condition would have it so that I must cover up as to not upset anyone with my appearance. My daughter has told me some interesting things about you but why don¡¯t you tell me about yourself a bit?¡±


    (Engage in a short conversation. After some time)


    ¡°Frostine, can you do me a favor?¡± ¡°Yes, how can I help?¡± ¡°I asked Gennalie to prepare a gift for this young man, but it had slipped my mind to bring it with me on my way here. Can you go check in with him to see if its ready?¡± Jumping up from having gone back to playing with the children again, shell eagerly out a ¡°Yes, I¡¯ll be right back!¡± quickly as she eagerly heads out of the apartment.


    Taking a couple minutes pause, shell gently turn to you (Cifer)


    ¡°Now tell me young man, you can be completely honest with me now. I have a few questions i would like to ask and I would very much like if you are direct and honest. Tell me what it is you intend to do from here on out now that you¡¯ve escaped your binding predicament?¡±


    (Listen) - I


    ¡°What do you think of my daughter? Shes lovely and beautiful isn¡¯t she?¡±


    (Listen) - II


    ¡°Before she comes back, do tell me; what are your feelings for her? I know she can be easily excitable sometimes and has quite a vivid imagination so I would like to hear from you with what hearing I have left.¡±


    (Listen) - III


    I - (Good: He can at least give one answer, flattery to the circus always helps) (Bad: He doesnt or wouldnt answer.)


    II - (Good: He is rather doting and caring about Frostine) (Bad: Passive about her)


    III - (Good: Hes honest and takes it rather maturely) (Bad: He hums and sighs about not being sure)


    Good: Leaning forward she will ask; a smile can be heard in her voice as she asks him one last question. ¡°Sure, you can flounder your way into maybe getting some more power than the average person but let me ask you this. If you were able to become a person like her-¡± She asks while gesturing to Pumpkin ¡°What would you do? What would a young man like yourself do if he could just ask for anything or any kind of power and they would just grant it? What would you ask for?¡±


    (He¡¯s honest and straight forward with his answers. If he doesn¡¯t know or isn¡¯t sure, he could at least acknowledge the circumstance he is in and its importance.)


    Bad: Leaning back the ring master will fold her hands over in her lap and let out a soft sigh I see. Our conversation is rather enlightening. Let me as you one last question before I must go and talk with Frosine. What is it your plan to actually get rid of Harmond? Or do you not have one besides relying on that cute little guild and hoping your luck prevails?


    (Hes crass, disrespectful and/or cant take her seriously. He refuses to answer or doesnt give full answers.)


    Very Bad: What riveting answers boy. She will say with a smile clear in her intonation. ¡°See, I do love my daughter very dearly If you think that you can break her heart or try to take her from me, I can promise you that you will never go a day in your remaining life where you will not regret it.¡± Pulling her hand away, her pinky would gently graze along your jawline when you hear a sickening crunch. Right away, nothing would seem out of place until you look down at yourself. It will be about then you can see and realize every joint in your body was twisted backward, every piece of cartilage popped out of place, every bone snapped like a twig and through all these injuries, not a thing breaching your skin. In a moment¡¯s notice all of the pain would immediately rush through you with a wave of pain like no other you¡¯ve experienced. The sudden fictionalized pain would wake you from your dream in a cold sweat.


    (Cifer tries to beat around the bush and gives the impression that he¡¯s trying to play Frostine.)


    You done fucked up: The piece of fabric that you tried to move would fall limp in your hand and noticeably missing the body that was once wearing it. Looking around, you can see that the ringmaster was now just gone, but you can still feel their presence in the room. ¡°Truly a respectless runt, always biting at the hand that feeds it. May you should perish with the beast that you¡¯ve groveled to for this long.¡± There is no sight of anything or anyone anymore at this point but even through the nothing, you could feel something firm, and round in nature press against your chest, about the size and shape of a motorcycle helmet. A magic could be felt rippling through your body down to your soul, almost like a shockwave. ¡°And if you touch my daughter, I will make sure, personally, you will have a slow and miserable death.¡±


    (trying to reveal her appearance)

 The First Tsaritsa Pt. 1

    Iglaceas may be frozen over but in the ever-storming tundra''s, this world is still home to thousands who brave life through the weather. The standards in which to consider a village thriving has been and remains considerably small. Food may be scarce but to be able to have even the smallest amount of food every night, homes protecting the various families of one or more from the frozen nights and developing culture among its people, was enough. It''s with culture that hope is able to bloom, through any thorns, to find the light on the other side of any dark tunnel. Murlay, is one such village that considers itself thriving.


    Summer is the most survivable time of the year. The sun is bright, the freezing cold eases up, and food is at an all-time growth. The weather is almost always clear, bright blue skies with hardly a cloud in sight. That doesn''t mean that there aren''t rain or snow days, but they''re much more bearable. The freezing air lets up just enough to not bite and scratch at any exposed skin, with the constant threat of frostbite to any who like to venture out too far for too long. Even the rain is a bit warmer, for those who take the chance to brace the weather can attest, most was those who worked on growing the foods. A large, densely built structure had been dug into the ground and the snow till reaching the sandy gravel floors beneath. Over years of treating the dirt, digging and searching, the soil that was crafted was just enough for the plants to thrive along with the village. This long-perfected ground has become almost a sacred art amongst the Svensson family.


    The approach of autumn months is never an easy transition, starting with sharp, strong and relentless winds before the drifting mornings turn to longer nights. This time of the year, everyone is focused on collecting all the supplies feasible together for even distribution. The plants soil is prepared for the incoming cold with a preemptive topsoil slow freeze. The homes were delegated to whom would be in more need to be closer to the village center bonfire as well as being closer to the village elder.


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    When the chill of the night resonated with the same chill throughout the day, winter is never pleasant, not even the strongest of souls in the tundra. Winters were almost spent entirely indoors with those who were delegated to stay with you, or your own family and. Food was to be used sparingly throughout the days because with everyone being stuck inside, no one had a way to predict the length of what each winter will be. Watching the ones you care about grow older by the day, weaker for those who grow sick and accept that they may not get to see the coming spring. Harsh winds bang on every surface that blocks its path outside the homes, shards of ice torrent to the ground in an seemingly endless barrage, and shocking cold that would steal any living soul''s breath right out of their lungs. Once the season has fully set in to place, leaving was no longer an option for going against the delegation from the village Chief and village elder was heretical in thought but such decisions were also reinforced by the several feet of snowfall over everything.


    When spring did come, it brought in new hopes, new celebrations and new relationships. The wonderful news of new life to come was the focus of all that could hear because these new buds of life shown that the village will continue to live on, passing down their legacy, the legacy to survive.

 The First Tsaritsa Pt. 2

    It¡¯s during the most favorable season that Vivian and Eva had decided to take a stroll through the town, dawning a moderate amount of furs.


    Vivian was considered the most promising maiden in the village. She is a brilliant, clever, captivating, woman with a body of a pale crystalline blue ice. Her hair and eyes had a depth in tone that brought in any that she engaged with that ignited in a shimmering joy with every smile. It was neither man nor woman capable of not falling for either charm or beauty.


    Eva was quite similar to her close friend, Vivian. Her short white hair consisted of a fresh powder of snow that pressed closer together. For her body shy hints of color twinkled amongst the snow to define her fragile blonde locks to her graceful blue eyes. She wasn''t as wise as Vivian but as the matchmaker describes her, ¡°She has all the qualities to make a husband proud of his wife¡±.


    It always felt like too long apart as the young women walked the cleared pathways, arm in arm and laughing, fully freed of their worries. This past snowfall was much shorter than what was expected and it couldn''t have gone by any faster either as they both eagerly spoke of the matching ceremony that was soon to follow.


    ¡°I am so glad that this winter went by so quickly, Mr. Cletus would NOT stop going on about Nepal. So much so that I don''t think he actually had any problems with moving around during the cold if he was agile enough to follow me about. It was all an excuse wasn''t it?¡± Eva cried dramatically, leaning into Vivian between the fits of giggles. ¡°Of course, who wouldn''t want to propose their grandchild to the most beautiful and kind girl in the village?¡± Vivian grinned while walking her fingers up Eva''s arm.


    Pulling out her arm, Eva turned to confront Vivian defiantly with her cheeks puffed up in a pout. ¡°Don''t you patronize me, we both know that everyone anticipates when you will be paired with your match. I''m just second best, a moon to your sun, simply reflecting your light.¡± Eva continued between her dramatic giggles. ¡°After all, you are simply the best.¡±


    ¡°Your flattery seems to know no boundaries and run as far as the snow does fall.¡± Vivian returned in a mockingly mature attitude to join in the fun. ¡°I wouldn''t consider anyone better than another since we all are doing our best to help each other and make it through each winter.¡±


    As the young women continued their teasing through the glittering white morning, they remained widely oblivious to all else in the world. More friends and family greeted each other with open arms. Stir-crazy children ran piling into the mounts of fresh snow with a puff of the delicate shimmering ice. Those wisened with age slowly rubbed their aching shoulders before stiffened by the cold as they readied to meet their own peers.


    Raul Torvald and Amerris Priam were among those who were out in the early morning. While most had finally only left not long ago, the two young men were already awake and winded from an early morning¡¯s work of heavy labor.


    Both young bachelors carried a similarly muscular frame. While Raul had Amerris in height, The latter had better in sheer strength. Neither were they brothers nor look akin to each other in any way, still, they were always compared.


    Roul¡¯s eyes are as perceptive and seeking as the snowy owl, body composed of a twisting, frozen, knotted wood that paled in the frost. Ammeris is much wider in stature, the gray wolven ears, almost hidden beneath the heavy layers in his medium gray mane that reached down to the middle of his back. His tail is also usually just as hidden beneath all the layers of extra fur to keep the more vulnerable parts of his anatomy warm which kept what was most rarely seen. Tattoo-like markings, imprinted into his skin, the distinctive markings of his spirit in his body.


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    The men had been up even earlier than all the rest before any of the sun¡¯s rays touched the sky. During the winter, they were the strength the village leaned on. Women were dedicated as the caretakers, tending to those who would need more help and care. The most able-bodied men tested the snow that covered special hatches made in a small separate room of some cottages. The snowdrift weighted down making the hatches reasonably too heavy to push open after the layers of blizzards. In this world, the snow never relents but at the start of spring, the weather relents just enough so that the snow recedes letting off some inches and these hatches will be able to open with enough force. That¡¯s when the people know spring has come.


    When freed from the confines of winter, the men immediately begin their work. Removing the white menace from the other hatches, with all hands on deck, they began shoveling away the snow from all the walkways till there was nothing left but sposh thinly covering over gravel terrain. With the lumber stored in the mill, before the snow in during the previous year, wood was chopped down into planks that would now lay across the ground in walkways. Once all was ensured, they then began shoveling the snow from all the doors of different cottages. Upon completion of all these things, that finally put an end to men¡¯s early morning work, all before the sun breaks the horizon.


    Now freed from their strenuous labor, the two men sat on top of a lightly powdered roof and watched in tranquil pleasure as the village reunited and the joys it brought. They didn¡¯t say much to each other, mostly because of fatigue but there was a mutual pride towards their roles and contribution to their culture and their life, ready for their own as the two women of their affections graced the streets.


    The two young men weren¡¯t the only ones to have noticed the ladies either. Village elder Oda Eide had been looking forward to this coming spring most particularly as well since this is indeed the time to find a match for her two most promising girls, she didn¡¯t need any of that time to prepare. In her mind she already knew whom she felt would be best for the soon-to-be young woman, no what she was looking forward to this spring was watching and deciding which of the two would take on her stead for when she grew too old and tired to continue as the elder and match maker. Her first choice would be to pass down the role to Vivian Survost. While Vivian was beautiful, her beauty was no qualification to becoming the next elder and matchmaker. She also needed to be perceptive of her people, understanding of their needs on a deep and fundamental level while living up to being the true example of what all girls, young ladies, and women should be. Her biggest hesitation was that Vivian was more focused on the people in a productive sense of what would be most practical; that¡¯s why she would make a great wife to the next Chief but not as qualified as a village elder. Eva Katelijn was also qualified because she made up for the things Vivian lacked such as utmost attention to the emotional needs of those she takes care of with a great sense of empathy. Eva¡¯s biggest fault though was that she wasn¡¯t as quick-witted or self-assured as her dear friend, it wasn¡¯t too large of a fault but it made sure that each of the girls was equally eligible.


    ¡°Vivian, Eva, girls come over here quick.¡± The matchmaker called over to the two friends from the edge of the bonfire center, waking the girls up from their little world. ¡°Coming right over!¡± Eva called back, picking up the pace and leading Vivian by the hand. The latter of the two though, was distracted by the sound of tiny footsteps hurrying their way to reach the girls.


    Eva pulled away to continue leaving Vivian behind as she turned to their visitor. A small boy, close to the age of 6 years old came hurrying with something covered in his hands. ¡°Viv!! Vivi!¡± he called in pure excitement with no regard for the rocky path he took that was just nest to a safer one. In his carelessness, his feet stumbled and sent him into the muck, holding on tightly a precious something in his hands. Vivian reached him down on the ground, helping him brush himself off and investigating what was clutched so carefully. She helped piece together the broken ice flower he had made and through some sniffles told Vivian about his winter.


    -


    Eva¡¯s attention was on the matchmaker as she waved them over, paying little to no mind about her friend being left behind. Oda was just about to scold the young lady who stopped caring for the child but stopped upon a second thought. While the girls were close, so was the weight in their flaws but they also helped build each other up making her timeless decision all the more difficult. For this spring, through the match-making season, it might be best to keep the girls separated, see which of them shines and which of them simply glow.

 The First Tsaritsa Pt. 3

    In the warming spring evenings, just before the sun set, the two bachelorette stood with the village elder, hand in hand with one another. The central fire hummed calmly with the approaching excitement.


    ¡°Now girls, I pretty much never do this but tonight will be a very special occasion, for the both of you and for the village''s prosperity.¡±


    An unspoken warmth was shared between the three women as the elder smiled between the two and squeezed each hand. ¡°I already have decided who your matches will be.¡± she spoke with an old glee in her eyes that was answered with Eva¡¯s gasp. ¡°But surely, matches aren¡¯t made before beca-¡± ¡°I¡¯m aware.¡± The matchmaker interrupted. ¡°But it was as clear as the dancing lights against the dark of the night sky. Now go, no more interruptions. Let Selene¡¯s blessings smile upon you both.¡± Ushering the women to their respective homes, Oda could almost feel her own youth coming back to her remembering the days when not only she was blessed and paired with her husband but received the honor to take on the mantle of elder and match maker.


    In her own small home, Vivian awaited anxiously as evening bleed into night. She could imagine Eva receiving the good news eagerly by the fire with both mother and father by her side to emphasize the joyous occasion as clear as day, completely contrasting Vivian''s own situation. Pacing nervously alone in her otherwise empty home; mother wasn''t able to make it through one particularly severe winter, father lost in a blizzard, she had no one else but the silence, crackling fire and her own thoughts till the knock finally came.


    Doctor Yahoshua had a bright smile on his face, warm and welcoming, clearly basking in the glow of good news and celebrations to be had. ¡°I know I must not ask until the matchmaker says anything but I''m left to assume that there¡¯s been nothing but good so far?¡± Vivian smiled shyly and welcomed him with a warm hug. Everyone in the village is family, no matter what, but in the absence of both her parents, the doctor has been most like a second father for her. If it was anyone else, Vivian¡¯s nerves probably have not been settled so easily through the process.


    First, they start off with dreams of the future, how the one coming of age hopes to contribute to the village and bring about prosperity. Followed by a prayer to Selene, for the hopes of becoming a strong pillar in their community to support the foundation for the next generation. While Vivian¡¯s prayer finishes, the doctor will continue the prayer to the goddess of life, fertility and love asking for blessings to be upon thee while reading the potency of the goddesses¡¯ arcane from his patient.


    The overall process was non-intrusive and most of the time the process takes is through the reunion, the prayers and small conversation that comes with being surrounded by family, siblings and loved ones. Since Vivian¡¯s residence was mostly vacant, Yahoshua tried to fill the anxious atmosphere with reassurance and small talk about each of their recent winters. Vivian told him about the Aldwin family, their daughter and a couple moments during the winter when their second child almost had an early entry to the world. The grandfather was still as stubborn as always, making his care the hardest but his daughter in law was of great help.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    As she began to relax with the exam coming to an end, the doctor¡¯s smile pressed to his lips as he grabbed some tea to make sure Vivian was comfortable. Vivian sparingly fed the fire and sat down on the fur rug but Yahoshua led her to the chair next to the tea set. ¡°Oh, i was fine where i was, there¡¯s no need for me to sit in what should be your chair-¡± ¡°Vivian, you are now a young woman now, you will be recognized as a woman now by everyone in the Village. You shouldn¡¯t sit on the rug like a child anymore¡­¡± He stopped to take a labored breath, cleaning his glasses for a moment and massaging his temple. The tension slowly crept back into the room as Vivian watched his demeanor abandon the lighthearted nature he started with.


    There was only one reason why the mood would change so much and it was the worst fear anyone would ever have in such a sensitive and culturally young society. In her heart she knew Vivian''s mind raced screaming for her fears to not be true and that this part was a dream, a bad nightmare and that she was just asleep on her bed, dozed off during the examination. Squeezing her eyes tight, wishing, praying more than she ever has before.


    Yahoshua brought her back by taking her hands in his, trying her best not to cry. ¡°I know this isn¡¯t what you want to hear right now Vivian. I¡¯m not going to break your heart and say what doesn¡¯t need to be said under the circumstances that don¡¯t need to be pointed out to you. But what does need to be mentioned though is usually we break the news to your guardians first¡­ then they would have to tell you but they would be the ones to talk with the matchmaker. For people in your scenario, we would ask that you should do it but i can¡¯t ask that for you...¡± He spoke slowly and as calmly as possible. Squeezing her hands in his as he spoke to protect her hands from the cold as well as keep his own steady from the fear of uncertainty.  ¡°I will talk to the matchmaker for you¡­ I see you differently than a daughter of mine, which is why I can''t ask you to talk to her on your own¡­ I will go there right after here but then I will have to continue with the rest of the clerical appointments with the rest of the coming of age ceremonies¡­ I¡¯m sorry Vivian¡­¡±


    Any more words were beyond the moment. There was nothing left for the doctor to say and there was nothing Vivian could say that would make the situation any better, so they sat in silence. 15 minutes of silence, holding onto each other¡¯s hands, holding on to what strength they could get from each other. When it came time that it would call for the doctor to leave, was when Vivian¡¯s whole  world fell apart.


    The night did not pass easily for anyone, through the pain and the tears. The fury of the matchmaker could not hold a candle to the resilience of the clerical doctor but neither walked away unscathed. This was only just the beginning of the wave of heartbreak, that was felt through the entire village.

 The First Tsaritsa Pt. 4

    After the night of horrible news came the next day where the matchmaker was to announce the results from the doctor¡¯s visit with a ceremony by the village center while the bonfire was lit. Through her broken heart, it was completely Vivian¡¯s intent to still support her friend Eva when her good news was announced but those plans had to change. That morning she received a knock on her door from the matchmaker, while she had always been friendly and caring before, she now was cold, calloused, with a fury suppressed behind her aged eyes. She let Vivian know that it would be best for her own sake that if she had any shame or cared for anyone in the village that she did not attend the ceremony, regardless of how painful the decision might be, it was all for the best, she claimed.


    The matchmaker wasn¡¯t wrong about that the decision would be painful but such pains would take on such a twisted life of their own the poor girl could never have expected. That ceremony was the announcement of all the young lads and maidens who have come of age, they celebrated Eva¡¯s soon-to-be new honor as she grows and learns following the elder¡¯s lead. She also acknowledged the noticeable stain in the whole event, which was Vivian¡¯s absence. Without her attending, the matchmaker announced the unfortunate news, that it¡¯s out of shame she doesn¡¯t even celebrate for those who have received good blessings. At the end of the announcement, she insisted that it would be best to do what is needed to be done, regardless of the pain it may bring. The village chief had supported this decision, knowing how it may affect the people, but it was a matter of survival that they did not have the luxury to ignore for the pleasure of more company.


    In Vivian¡¯s life, the change was initially subtle enough that she couldn¡¯t notice it right away, too far lost in her own grief and fear for her home. She trusted the doctor that however the conversation that he may have had with the matchmaker who would then talk to the chief about, there may be a chance that unwed, nothing more or worse would happen. She knew fully well that she normally would be sent away immediately, the night of the ceremony, sent into the snowdrifts without permission to ever return but she was still here, she¡¯s still home. This was the hope she clung to as she bore the burden knowing she was a shame, continued helping where she could, taking care of those who needed help and teaching the children.


    In the initial time, people were pitiful, worried for Vivian and what would happen to her, sorrowful that not only had she lost her family but that she was to be lost as well. There was no denying her truth, their customs, and the cruelty of time.


    Time was like a constant river over a stone, the erosion of the water on the stone¡¯s surface will make slow work that the mass it once had will dwindle down into sand. The people¡¯s pity and love for Vivian was set in stone but that began to diminish. It started with the small things like helping Vivian with her contributions till that metaphorical stone got smaller and they no longer needed Vivian¡¯s help to take over her tasks. With other¡¯s tasks, they no longer accepted her assistance either insisting that they will do it on their own or claiming they¡¯ve asked someone else to come help. With more water over their stone hearts, they no longer hid that they had yet to find someone else for help but still insisted on refusing hers. Blindness nor denial could cloud Vivian¡¯s eyes from their ignorance of her, so she wasn¡¯t surprised when the night came and she had one last visit to her door from the matchmaker.


    The knock came at about 9:30 into the night, when all the children had fallen asleep, adults found themselves by the fire and no other person could be found out on the streets. At this time, it made it best that no one else who might have their remaining sympathies could intervene, like Eva might have. She never blamed Vivian for not showing up but it didn¡¯t hurt any less. Vivian was her sister and Eva doesn¡¯t have the heart to ever abandon her.


    ¡°Vivian, please answer the door, there¡¯s something that needs to be brought up with you and ¡°no¡± is not an answer.¡± The matchmaker spoke through the door knowing Vivian was still in the home as she hadn¡¯t seen her left since entering that late afternoon. Within a couple minutes Vivian quietly opened the door, not surprised to see the presence of other villagers who were making sure that no wrong happened during their ¡°conversation¡±.


    It wasn¡¯t necessary though, she had given up and conceded to the knowledge that she would most likely be exiled before the autumn came. The village needed another home for a new family, to grow and expand, while she would have moved in with her husband¡¯s home if she was to have been made a match and married, the expectation that her house would be kept to one for a full lifetime was never a consideration or option. This is the time when space will be made for new growth, this is the moment when one less mouth to feed will, in turn, benefit for all the rest, this was exile.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°I am sure you know that your contribution to the village has dwindled over the last couple months. There is no chore for you to take on and no one is in need of your help. You¡¯ve stayed long enough but it¡¯s time for you to move on Vivian. Do you understand?¡± the older asked sternly, staring down the young woman who couldn¡¯t even bare to look her in the eyes. Oda only had a small nod in reply from the girl so that was answer enough that she was at least going to be compliant. ¡°It¡¯s good you understand. Then let us go.¡± she stated will turning to start the walk across the village to at least make it a quick one. ¡°Let me grab what I have really quick-¡± ¡°No Vivian, we¡¯re leaving now. Leave everything else behind.¡± the old woman barked. ¡°But aren¡¯t I at least allowed to take some food with me? A blanket at the least?¡± ¡°No Vivian. You¡¯ve stayed here long enough. That has been your last meal, that has been your only supply. Anything left in that house is already someone else¡¯s and it¡¯s time for you to go.¡± she grimaced at the girls desperate attempts to what she assumed was to stall the inevitable and steal from the village. One of the men stepped forward towards Vivian, seeing as she had yet to move from inside the house, with what was clearly in silent surprise.


    She didn¡¯t try to run, object, or cry, none of that would change her fate, it was destined since the diagnosis. She followed the elder, and behind her walked the villagers who once were like family to her, friends of hers, people she has known all her life, but now they felt far more distant than strangers. The walk was at a much more brisk pace than Oda usually sets, especially in her age, for in her mind she needed to hurry to cast out one woman so she can deliver good news to another after.


    There was too much on Vivian¡¯s mind, too many emotions swelling her heart, each step through the village bore another memory that had stayed with her through the years. Each step she had to keep walking past as these memories are only hers and will die with her.


    At the edge of the village there were no parting words, no wish for survival, no faith or hope to give her. That silence was the second loudest thing she ever heard, next to the sound of her shoes sinking into unthreaded snow.


    -


    She just kept walking, not really knowing where to and unsure for how long. It was summer after all meaning the cold was now more bearable and her body of ice allowed her to feel a little more comfortable in the cold than most but not in autumn and most certainly winter. That would be if she was able to live for that long, maybe she might be unlucky enough to be brought before Lana, a quick and painless death devoid of any chance at rebirth. The fur of her dress kept her warm as long as she kept walking but that wouldn¡¯t be able to last forever.


    The wind was harsh and this punishment was harsher. There was no one, not a living being nor even a sign; such emptiness finally collapsed in on her. Fallen in the snow she cried every aching sorrow, bore out her heart where no one could hear, no one could see, where no one even cared.


    -


    At some point she must have drifted off in the snow because she didn¡¯t hear the footsteps nor the voice calling to her but the weight of a blanket startled her back to the sight of the vast moonlit white. But there was also the doctor, Yahoshua helping her up and guiding her while his glasses thickly fogged over in the cold.


    They rushed through the snow as quickly as they could till a small building could be seen approaching in the distance. While Vivian had so many questions, not one of them made it past her freezing lips but neither had the doctor yet to stop and explain.


    The building was rather small, small enough to fit only just a bed and a furnace with little space inbetween, an old tool shed clearly repurposed. ¡°Why¡­¡± she breathed out, her body now starting to shiver as he warmed her up, circulating her blood through her body. ¡°Like I said, you¡¯re like a daughter to me¡­ I couldn¡¯t just let you leave and not do what I can to help. Speaking against the matchmaker and the chief wouldn¡¯t have done anything so this was the best I could come up with. I¡¯m sure most of the village forgot about this place, it¡¯s been in the family for a bit, we used to take contagious patients quite some time ago. I can¡¯t bring you anything else besides what I have in this basket but from here, you have to make it on your own. The villagers will be suspicious if I did help you and there¡¯s not ever much of a good time that I can get away long enough to see you. I already brought over some small things of yours but that¡¯s it. I wish I could do more, stay longer, and help, but I must go before anyone looks for me. Stay safe Viv¡±. He gave her a gentle kiss on the head and then he was quickly gone, back into the night. It¡¯s as good of an explanation as any and it must have already been a huge risk to do, much more than anyone else has.


    Vivian¡¯s cheeks stung, the frozen streaks of tears burned as fresh new ones traced over them, the inevitable fatality of her future seemed a little less inevitable. Due to the risky kindness of one man, she now has a second chance to live. That was the only thought she could have as Vivian returned to sleep, now in a bed, in a place where she could stay warm.

 The First Tsaritsa Pt. 5

    There was never a day that went by that Vivian was not grateful for the doctor, while the help was small, it was enough that she needed in order to keep going on.


    The first concern was food, another hope he had given her. In the basket he had left enough rations to feed her for a couple days that she used sparingly so she had something to eat for as long as possible. In the basket there were some organic, growable, foods. She tried her best to replicate the soil she''s helped maintain in the past in order for the plants to grow. It wasn''t as efficient or successful as she hoped at first but with enough time passing by, the possibility grew brighter.


    With enough free time and all that was set in order, Vivian would wander back out into the snow but this time was different. As she wandered she set out with it in mind to return to the small shed she calls home now. She looks for anything she could find, any new food source, any material she can collect and as well as use to make her living situation easier. Even the smallest possibility of finding another Village that had just been out of reach, but there was no luck in that endeavor.


    When looking for resources, the kinds she thought she would come across were signs of a frozen forest, evergreens, or winter berries; the types of resources she actually came across the most were broken spear tips, a faulty tool, or any other dropped supplies from her home Village. She attempted to try and stay away from those areas, especially because they can come back and look for the dropped or missing supplies but when she did come across them she was most grateful for just that small extra find.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    The second best blessing Vivian had come across was a bubbling Hot Spring. To find this hot spring she had spent almost the entire days worth walking out into the North-East, a direction she knew she wouldn''t be found by any Scouts, hunting party or collectors. She had brought a decent amount of supplies with herself, a warm blanket, two slices of bread, and a plank of wood with very small pieces of flint and Cold Steel inside her bucket. Well this will get her by enough for her journey, if anybody found her with any of those supplies, they would have taken them from her and possibly even killed her on site, assuming she had stolen these.


    Originally her plan was to Venture as far forward as possible for the span of a day. Once the night would have approached, she would then use the bucket to begin digging out a place beneath the snow so she can take cover for the night, like a small makeshift temporary igloo. Obviously the blanket would be there to keep her warm, make sure she didn''t get too cold in the night and die of hypothermia. The flint and cold steel with a plank of wood would be in case she ever had a need to set a fire. There wasn¡¯t any specific reason she could think of where she might need to start a fire or have a torch but the risk of finding herself in a situation needing the supplies and not having them, is a risk she wasn¡¯t willing to take. Nothing else, other than those things, was brought with her to make sure that her load stayed light.


    Finding the hot springs was far from expected. They weren''t large, only deep enough for an adult to stand up to the waist at its deepest part, but it was warmth, it was fresh water, and it was somewhere she could return to and stay warm if she ever got sick. Bringing back the water from the hot springs also helped with growing her own food from the very few vegetables she hadn¡¯t killed. It made treating the soil much easier for freshness and warmth that the plants seemed to flourish with.

 The First Tsaritsa Pt. 6

    Vivian was confident enough to be able to say that she had survived. Survived on her own, survived exile from her home, and survived against the odds of the cruel nature. It''s been at least weeks now, probably even a month or two since she last received the doctor''s help at the start. She wouldn''t want to ask anything of him, not just because there would be a large risk, but she also wanted to prove she can continue on her own.


    In her time, she has been managing the isolation rather well. Food is incredibly sparse, slow and thin but very few crops growing in makeshift pots and displaced soil, fresh water and warmth. Wood may be difficult but that was where most of her time was being spent. Taking off on the long trek into the woods, to the farthest area from the village, to scrape off bark, and smaller branches she can climb up to reach and to catch both what falls down and any small animals that would get caught in a simple snare.


    Time was kind, the summer was long but summer can¡¯t last forever and this was a prime opportunity to catch as many animals as possible, that was her priority because just like her, the animals would also be looking for food to store for the cold months.


    Vivian had only set out after the sun had already come out, not before, but if she had set off any earlier she would have seen the occurrence of a wonderful phenomenon. In the earliest hours of day, as the sun rose, a drop of gold light seemed to have departed from its warmth, streaking across the atmosphere and disappearing somewhere out of sight.


    That day was a bit off, sleep was hard and the exile was too easily lost in her own thoughts as she headed out. That week, catching food was growing more and more scarce in the area she had been hunting, so the time to move her scavenging location was approaching. There wasn¡¯t much forest to the North, although further west had more, it also had its risks. Her path was to  travel from the south east which kept her safe but that¡¯s mostly because the farthest northern area becomes barren.


    -


    Iglaceas wasn¡¯t the only world in which a grand phenomenon had happened. All across the many stars a blessing had been given back to the many worlds. Streaks of gold fell across countless skies in a holy light.


    -


    Vivian was far too lost in her own aimless thoughts as she walked, not tracking as she went and deviating quite a way to the North. While she never saw the gold light in the sky, something else caught her eye, checking her back to reality. In the distance, a gold light flashed its heavenly radiance before growing dimmer and dimmer. There was no snow blizzard or anything malicious about this light in the distance, and taking the risk, Vivian decided that it was something worth investigating. It could be warmth, it could be other people, it could be another opportunity to start a new chapter in her life.


    Reaching the top of the slope, before the lone survivor was a vast lake, frozen over with the exception of a massive break point in the center. The water still sloshed and churned, splashing through the cracks and large slabs of ice that rocked on the surface. Whatever the light was, it shined through the ice, sinking deeper into the water, occasionally flashing in gold light.


    Approaching even closer, she could see what emanated such light, fading deeper, was a child, small and hardly even 8 years old. There wasn¡¯t any moment to spare as Vivian immediately pulled off the heavy layers of her attire, slipped out on the ice and reached the impact point. The slabs of ice were finally settling back down as the waters calmed but at the first moment she could, Vivian grabbed onto the edge and pushed with all her might. The ice slap resisted the shove but she was more resilient, flipping it onto a neighboring piece. Following through with the motion, she fell into the freezing dark waters.


    The cold hit her body hard, immediately freezing up her muscles in the dark cold depths, making it difficult for her to adjust to the sudden change. The child was easily able to be seen, the short locks of golden hair glowing as she descended like a dying beacon. Her heart was pounding in her ears and her lungs burned with the need to gasp for air, but that had to be pushed aside, fighting herself for control of movement and began plunging deeper into the water.


    Treading the depths, her body ached in such harsh conditions, losing strength and making seeing through the cold so much harder. Pure adrenaline had taken over by the time she reached the child and grabbed onto her. For just being able to reach her did not mean they were both out of danger yet as Vivian needed to be able to pull the both of them out. Each action, each pull, each step to saving them both now took a massive toll on Vivian''s constitution, each motion felt as if it would be the last, just until she pushed forward again.


    Reaching the surface was a slow climb of physical capabilities of the body versus the cold, one that Vivian was determined to win, not for herself but this lone child. She didn¡¯t deserve to be condemned from such a grim fate. She needed to get home where it''s safe and warm with her family.


    Vivian didn''t know anything about where the child was from but it didn''t matter. As soon as they reached the surface the child was out first on the ice and pushing her away from the edge next was Vivian. It was only just by the sheer luck of the situation that Vivian crawled out onto the ice herself when the slab she had flipped grinded across back into place.


    She began pushing water out of the child''s lungs, center of the chest to stimulate the heart back into motion. Attempting to put air back in the child''s lungs until finally there was a convulsive response as she threw up the water she had swallowed. This gave the girls enough time to return back to the small shed that Vivian stays in, wrapped in the dry cloak, together fighting off hypothermia.


    Once returned, Vivian did not spare any wood necessary to make sure that the room radiated in warmth. With enough clean snow collected in a bucket, Vivian positioned it above the fire to bring to a boil, not sparing any expense of the carefully collected resources she had to make broth, then a soup. Once the soup was finished she spent the rest of the day slowly nursing the child back to health.


    While she knew that her efforts were genuine and she would be able to make some progress on her own, she also knew she wouldn''t be able to do it alone with her limited resources. This girl needed proper help and better care than what she can provide in order to get home.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    That night Vivian left the safety of the recovery station and made her way as silently as she could through the snow with a path lit by only the moonlight.


    The Village was quiet that night, there didn''t seem to be any kind of activity on the streets. It wasn¡¯t yet time to have the winter festivities but that time continued to approach by evidence of the chilling winds. It looks as if nothing had changed since she left, that was to be expected, but the reality that life, time, people and loved ones will just move on in a way¡­ hurts. In every home was a family, young and old, older caring for the new and the newer caring for the old. In such a close village, it seemed there was no one left who cared about her, maybe Yahoshua but it¡¯s been some time since he¡¯s seen her either, she might even be a ghost to him.


    The doctor and saint¡¯s house was closer to the center of the village, meaning it wouldn¡¯t be so easy to reach his home without being noticed. But if she just waited for the night to go on till there was no one awake in the late hours then it should be safe enough to make her way through, so that¡¯s what she did. She waited behind a mound of snow on the outskirts, up on the slope high enough to see most of the pathways but not enough to be too far so that making her way to the village would be a time costly endeavor.


    -


    It felt like hours that she sat there in the snow but eventually, when all the candle lights in the homes were put out, the streets were empty and bare, she left her hiding position in which she almost fell asleep. Quietly making her way through the streets to Yahoshua¡¯s house, her biggest worry was that he may be asleep already. She was set on whether he was awake or asleep that she needed to talk to him, regardless.


    To her good luck there was a small light coming from one of the rooms of his house, just enough to be a candle light. The doctor was at his desk, dividing some herbs for some people¡¯s medications. Vivian knocked on the window rather gently and startled him from his work. Out of reflex, he looked to where the sound had come from. Their eyes only met for a moment and she could see that joy sparked behind his old withered eyes before falling away, tired and passive as if he hadn¡¯t just seen her. He Bundled the small plants, stood up and took the candle with him into the other room, where Vivian ran around to the back to where he was going and reached his bedroom before he had. She vigorously knocked on the window this time insistent to get his attention to which he persisted to ignore her, placing the candle onto the night stand. She begged and waved her hands in further attempt for him to just acknowledge her but he only sat on the bed and pinched out the light.


    She needed his help, this child needed his help. Fear of being found and with urgency, she began trying to force open the sealed closed window, putting her weight into prying it open but the window gave way. The latch was opened and on the other side, she could see the heartbroken saint with nothing separating them now.


    ¡°Vivian pleas-¡± ¡°It¡¯s not for me, it¡¯s for a child¡± she interrupted with a loud whisper. ¡°I don¡¯t ask for anything, only that you see this child and make sure she¡¯ll be ok. Because I¡­¡± her rising fear began to choke and claw at her. She couldn¡¯t let someone lose their home, their family or their life, just like she has, might as well a child so young. Those were the words she wanted to get out but all she could do was cry. ¡°This will be the last time and I¡¯m only doing this for the child.¡± He sounded more alert, stern but focused as he closed the window.


    Taking the good sign that it was, Vivian left in a hurry back to the place she left the girl, fled the dangers of being found, and made sure she was ok till the doctor could come.


    Yahoshua turned away from the window with more questions than answers like, ¡°Who is this child?¡± ¡°Where did this child come from?¡± ¡°Was his diagnosis for Vivian wrong?¡± ¡°Is this her child?¡± ¡°If not, where did this child come from?¡±.


    All this swirled through his mind as he threw together a quick bag of spare supplies that wouldn¡¯t be missed or noticed if they were in need. Standing in front of the front door he closed his eyes, sending out a small prayer to Selene to guide him, stop him if what he was about to do was wrong or should she send him on his way. As he stood there for that brief moment, his blood ran cold with adrenaline and the same kind of fear that surged through Vivian, an urgency that an imposing danger would not wait for time to pass. At this, he sprinted out into the snow with disregard to even cover his tracks on his way out, only to deal with on his way back.


    Arriving closer to the place that he has known, that has been passed down from generation to generation and now served as a sanctuary to a girl who he sees as no different to his own daughter, he could feel that there was a difference. He could see, even at a distance, that it looked warmer, lived in and cared for but he could feel an extra presence about the place. For a reason he couldn¡¯t place as to why, he found that he could feel the presence of the goddess closer in this building. Her aura was present, strong but also feasibly fading at a constant gradual rate that would fade away completely within hours.


    Yahoshua didn¡¯t wait for any kind of welcome as he threw open the door and set the light bag down on the only available floor space. He paid no mind to anything else besides the child that lay in the bed where Vivian sat next to. He did not recognize her in the slightest nor anyone else who had her rather distinctive features. Golden burning hair flickered with the light of her small life, but the child''s light was faded and still fading, so he began work quickly, healing her by both magic means at first, but given it wasn¡¯t enough for how far she had regressed, he also worked by physical means as well, neglecting neither techniques.


    That first hour was Vital. In complete silence did he work and Vivian simply had to watch from a small distance, making sure the room was warm and that she did not impede his work. But once that hour had gone by, they began very small talk, not quite looking at each other yet.


    ¡°What happened to her?¡± he began with a whisper. ¡°She fell into a frozen lake..¡± ¡°How?..¡± he paused and Vivian whispered back ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡±. He could feel the presence of his followed goddess no longer fading from this place and the life from the child no longer faded away either.


    She was out of danger, but this child wasn¡¯t the only one in danger. Vivian had grown much thinner since he or anyone had last seen her at all. She didn¡¯t seem to appear in a condition with significant problems but it''s clear to see that it won''t be long until she will face risks to her health. Looking around the small place briefly he could see how much she was trying. Makeshift pots with small sproutlings and very young plants being tended to. Her own small bits of food, patches of skinned fur and any kind of reserve could all sit upon a single wooden plate all together.


    The saint and the outcast sat in reserved silence while watching over the young girl through most of the night. While he wanted to bring them both back with him and take care of them, they were both realistically aware of how it would be only a useless folly. While refusing to mention much about herself or situation, Vivian had insisted upon dedicating herself to a plan that she wasn¡¯t going to wait for his approval. His only choice was to accept this, and left before the first hunting party would set out.


    Once the child is healthy enough, Yahoshua will find a torn piece of cloth tucked into the windowsill. This will let him know that the child is now back into full health and that Vivian will be finally gone. There was not enough food or resources to feed them both and survive the winter, so Vivian will dedicate all that she has left for this child to have the life she lost. A cruel exchange of one life lost to give another a fighting chance. Once the child would be declared found, it would be up to the village to find her real hope and family.

 The First Tsaritsa Pt. 7

    Vivian spent days caring for the girl and while caring for the child, never realized the fall in her own constitution. She wasn''t eating nor did she think she had anything to complain about in terms of the situation. The child slowly got better under the care of the exile but also to the detriment of the elder.


    A little over a week went by and she was awake enough to walk, sit up and move about the room. Vivian had tried asking her about her home. Where did she come from? Does she remember anything? But the child couldn¡¯t. She needed a name to go by, even if it was temporary, so Vivian named her Seraphina, after the beautiful golden fire that enveloped her hair.


    She became more lively in the later days when food supplies became almost unbearably low and there were some nights she asked if there was a little bit more, even when Vivian had gone without eating herself. That meant it was time, Seraphina needed to go to the village to find her real home and her real family. Vivian wasn¡¯t her family, they were neither related or knew anything about each other but this happy child looked to her with so much love and trust. The last that she would ever know.


    ¡°Seraphina.¡± Vivian called her attention while sitting in front of the bed. ¡°Tomorrow we¡¯re going to do something new that I haven''t told you much about yet.¡± ¡°Is it a surprise?¡± she asked excitedly, swinging her legs with a glowing smile that can only be rivaled by her radiant shine. ¡°It¡¯ll be something of the sorts¡± Vivian tried to smile back.


    Inside, her heart was breaking, she was frankly scared for herself. It wasn¡¯t an immediate change but she had noticed herself that moving buckets with water or moving some of the pots became heavier and heavier to carry despite the plants growing at too slow of a rate to warrant the strain. She couldn¡¯t break little Seraphina¡¯s heart the same way hers was breaking, she wouldn¡¯t be able to bear it.


    ¡°I¡¯ll show you something absolutely wonderful in the morning, it¡¯s beautiful and if everything works out, you¡¯ll be happy beyond the rest of your years.¡± She spoke softly, holding the small hands in hers. Sera only giggled and leaned in so their noses just barely poked the other¡¯s, whispering with an overwhelming glee ¡°I can¡¯t wait.¡±


    Vivian nodded and gave the child¡¯s hands as tight of a squeeze to her weakened strength. ¡°Well it¡¯s time for you to go to bed now or the morning won¡¯t come any faster.¡± With that Seraphina quickly tucked herself into bed and snuggled in, squeezing her eyes shut. It wasn''t long after that her breathing smoothed and little soft sounds of deep sleep came from the small bundle of blankets.


    Watching her sleep, old feelings of guilt and shame bubbled up in Vivian''s heart before a forceful eruption where they can no longer be repressed. One sob after another chokes out of her throat painstakingly slow before tears stream down her cheeks. From the hunger and the tears, it was nigh impossible for her to find the strength to pick herself up and exit the room to try and not disturb the girl¡¯s sleep. A small piece of blanket that lay at the edge of the bed muffled the now twice broken heart. She didn¡¯t feel as though she deserved to be looked at with so much love and admiration from anyone, now when she couldn¡¯t do more for this child regardless how much she wanted.


    Tomorrow Seraphina will find a new home till she can return back to where she belongs, which means it''ll be a big day for her. Vivian knew she needed all the energy she could muster to keep up with the child. Before she realized it, she had drifted off into a deep, unforgettable sleep with little resistance.


    -


    Vivian woke up from the ground where she sat, her head on the bed at where she had drifted off. The same bed where Seraphina had fallen asleep in first, now lay lifeless and empty with the sheets tucked in.


    Quickly standing up Vivian looked around the room immediately for the girl but found her nowhere. While the chill wasn¡¯t so harsh, the sky was still devoid of any sunlight, illuminated purely by the stars, the fire now large making the room decently warm and all the plants put up on shelves. She didn¡¯t care much about the details of the room but if only she had, then her worries would be put more at ease. Just out of Vivian¡¯s attention that she failed to notice, the room was bigger, so was the fireplace. Instead of the gravel pit and centered airway were large stone cemented walls that surrounded logs that never lost the freshness of their wood or bark. Proper clay and ceramic pots held more variety of roots, herbs, vegetables, and saplings that Vivian had never collected, now bursting with life. The room was less of the small shed the two girls had been living in and now looked closer to that of a proper home, big enough for the both of them without being cramped or feeling confined.


    Not being able to find Seraphina anywhere, Vivian grabbed her coat off the bed, dually used as an extra blanket and draped it across her shoulders to tread into the night. If she had wandered into the night, it shouldn¡¯t be too hard to find her glowing gold hair illuminating against the dark, reflecting off the snow for some distance. If it was still night Vivian was certain she hadn¡¯t slept for too long. It¡¯s possible she could have found the village on her own but there were more dangers in the night than possibly running into an early hunting patrol.


    Grabbing the door handle though, she hesitated. There was a presence on the other side she had never known, yet it felt familiar at the same time from a long time ago. Out of all times it was strange to feel and open the door to find her mother.


    Through the open doorway Vivian looked back towards the late Mrs. Praskvia Survost, wrapped in a gentle sewn shawl that she had always been known to wear. It was the shawl that was passed down over time to all the women in their family to wear on special occasions. Praskovia believed that every day was a special occasion, that each and every day was a blessing to be alive and to enjoy living their life together as both family and community.


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    It¡¯s been quite some time since Vivian had seen it. Just another one of the many sentimental items that were left behind and given for another family to start new.


    Praskvia gave her daughter a gentle smile, gentle and graceful like it has always been when she was alive. Such a small gesture wiped away all thoughts of Seraphina from Vivian¡¯s mind as her emotions began to fill up more than her heart could hold. More thoughts than she could grasp, all questions that screamed for answers but her jaw remained firmly clenched tight. ¡°May I come in?¡± her mother asked while taking a step closer to enter the small home.


    Vivian let her in, never looking away from the woman who entered with such gentleness, as everything was made of a delicate thin ice, at any time ready to break. She looked around the room with an undeniable worry and nervousness. ¡°Do you like the room?¡± Praskvia gestured around her weakly before sitting on the bed. ¡°Why would I ever love the walls that remind me of each passing day that goes by, knowing they will be the last thing I ever see?¡± she snapped back, yelling at her mother for the first time.


    The pain stung both her heart and her tired eyes as she faced her. ¡°If this is life that you¡¯re here to tell me I¡¯m supposed to love every day of, well I can¡¯t. Not now. Not when you¡¯ve left me alone for so long. If you truly were my mother then you would have come back sooner. And you would have helped me make everything ok¡­¡±


    The woman on the bed hung her head in shame and embarrassment. Pinching and rolling the fabric of her dress on her lap ashamed of her optimism, wishful thinking and expectations. While she knows better and is expected better of her; her own heart bled for the young girl who suffered so much before her, because of herself. Biting her lip and pushing through her own guilt, she took a deep breath and looked Vivian in the eye. She deserved that much after all that¡¯s happened. ¡°You are right. And¡­ I am sorry for everything you¡¯ve gone through and still give¡­ I¡¯m not the mother you see but I am still your mother as well.¡± She paused for when Vivian was ready but the younger turned away from her with a start.


    ¡°Seraphina. I have to find her. She¡¯s more important than any of this that could be said right now, I-¡± ¡°I know.¡± The woman on the bed interrupted while catching Vivian before she ran out into the cold. Vivian was incapable of pulling away from her as she was turned back around to look at whom she began to see clearly. The more Vivian looked the more she could see that this woman, the embodiment of the pure gold of magic, the body, soul, life and love, was not the mother she mistaken her for. ¡°Seraphina is ok. She is safe and warm and healthy all thanks to you. So please, relax. She¡¯s still asleep right now and so are you.¡±


    ¡°Birth mother or spirit mother, either way doesn¡¯t matter. Why now?¡± she asked no longer to hold her head up high. ¡°Because I couldn¡¯t bear to give life to one child with the sacrifice of another¡­ You already lost so much yet still found a way to continue to give everything.¡± The divine spirit sympathized but Vivian couldn¡¯t stand it. ¡°This is all because of you!¡± she shouted, shoving her away. Her composure further shattered as her breath quickened, slipping into hyperventilation. ¡°I would have a home and a family, surrounded by the people I loved if you hadn¡¯t forsaken me¡­¡± Selene wrapped her arms around Vivian, who grew weak, weeping over the pain she had caused the very person who had mended her own broken heart.


    They both had been hurt and there was no need for either of them to make any kind of excuse for their circumstances. Selene held Vivian, giving her warmth and comfort, safety in her arms while she cried. There was no forgiveness that could be asked for, the past can¡¯t be changed and the damage cannot be undone.


    ¡°You have my everything Vivian.¡± Selene whispered, ¡°I will give you my everything, just as you have given your everything to all those you love and never stopped loving¡­ I''m sorry I wasn''t here sooner... I love you too.¡±


    -


    Seraphina sat on her hands and knees in the snow while Vivian showed her how to set up the tricks she used to catch rabbits and squirrels in the forest. While the trap was rather nonsensical and the forest wasn¡¯t really a forest, they were just as Seraphina had imagined them to be.


    This was a lovely dream for her. It was one of the many ideas that swirled through her mind at all the possibilities of what tomorrow¡¯s surprise might be that she was too excited to rest for, even in sleep. The sound of footsteps interrupted her dream though, taking her attention away from the trap and to the slowly approaching woman. She was also beautiful, just like Vivian but they didn¡¯t look alike at all, the woman looked like herself in some way, but older.


    ¡°Do you recognise me?¡± The woman stopped and asked, in a fragile surprise. ¡°Of course!¡± Seraphina said excitedly while standing up and hopping through snow that was just a little too deep for her to walk. Standing in front of the radiant form, the small girl said ¡°You are me! But older¡­ You are me but from the future!¡± She said this statement with such certainty that the older couldn¡¯t help but laugh, joyful of her creative and active imagination. ¡°I suppose you can say that.¡± she smiled while Seraphina pouted ¡°Well you look just like me, you couldn¡¯t be anyone else.¡±


    We indeed are just alike.¡± Selene crouched down to the girl¡¯s height. ¡°But I will need to ask a favor of you.¡±


    Seraphina looked at the older woman suspiciously, slightly reluctant as children often are when chores are involved. ¡°Fiinnneeeee,¡± she eventually whined.


    ¡°I will need your help taking care of Vivian,¡± Selene said with a smile.


    ¡°Of course!¡± the child stamped impatiently. ¡°I do help Vivi when she lets me.¡±


    The deity petted the child¡¯s hair, calming the flames of her tiny passionate heart. ¡°Vivian will need help in ways she won¡¯t say. So if you notice anything, help her where you can. I¡¯m not asking you to take on any kind of responsibility, but she needs you¡ªjust as much as you need her.¡±


    Seraphina nodded attentively now, sensing the importance of what was being said about her big sister.


    ¡°That¡¯s a good girl,¡± Selene finished, patting her head.


    Just as she was about to leave, little Seraphina asked, ¡°What will my future be like?¡±


    Selene¡¯s form was already fading as she turned back and smiled. ¡°It will be full of love.¡±


    -


    In the morning, both of the girls woke from their sleep, feeling more rested and at peace within their own heart than they had been before.


    The room was indeed much different from how they fell asleep, not that the room changed but the small plants that grew had come to life, the stock pile of wood, blankets and all they needed were full.


    Vivian was in shock at the very real changes while Seraphina was elated at the new life that had only just begun.

 The First Tsaritsa Pt. 8

    As time went on, the two girls never did separate. Food had no longer become a worry and neither any of their other needs.


    Vivian had been blessed with a beautiful and amazing gift that continued to prove the vastness of its prowess as it easily moved with her control to complete one task after another with such effortless ease.


    -


    Yahoshua continued to wait for Vivian, any sign, any word of her or the child that she found. He worried about their health and safety that they were ok.


    One night he had noticed a large radiating presence of his worshiped goddess, from the direction of where the girls lived in hiding. He tried paying it no mind so as to not alert anyone else in the village since most others failed to notice anything different. The thought of it coming from the child further helped distract himself from paying it too much mind. She was a blessed child of Selene to say the least but he hardly knew anything about her or her circumstance to understand the situation.


    It wasn¡¯t until winter¡¯s start that he found the ripped piece of cloth of solemn news, that he could go to the recovery shack and that she would be gone. He had headed out there right away and while he expected to find the child there, so she would be taken care of, he instead found it completely empty. All things gone, not a trace that it had ever been lived in or any kind of extended period of time.


    -


    The cloth signal was a mercy for the man from Vivian, now too focused on living a new life, the two on their own to have remembered about the plan to begin with. It wasn¡¯t until Seraphina had started asking questions about where Vivian grew up and if she had anyone taking care of her and what was it like that Vivian remembered the village saint. She wasn¡¯t enthusiastic to tell Seraphina about it all just yet right away but over the months, the memories came out slowly one by one in a slow succession.


    As they continued on, and grew older, there was only one thing that either of them had been longing for.


    After hearing only some of the stories, Seraphina wanted to go back to Vivian¡¯s village to prove them wrong. Prove to them that Vivian had become more than anything they had envisioned she would be. And take pride in sharing the knowledge they have gained, not just about their home, but about the entire world, the many worlds, and that they were not alone nor did they have to be. But this was the one request Vivian could not grant to Seraphina right away.


    Vivian didn¡¯t have the heart to bring back the memories of the past to the present to serve as a proof of any kind. She couldn¡¯t go back to ask for their welcome either. The only way, she had decided, that she would return to her village was to be with news, that things were going to change for the better. Out of everyone who could try, Vivian knew she could do it because of her gift.


    In a region very far off from where the girls¡¯ new home was, laid a large stony island, carved out and constructed into a beautiful city that surrounded itself by a frozen ocean.


    This city was the only and true capital of any land or area. People there lived just as comfortably as Seraphina and Vivian in their own homes. The people of that island lived in a relaxed luxury that they had very little worry for. But they were also the ones who received messengers and letters regularly by other towns and villages in reachable distances asking for help and supplies, only to be laughed out.


    That was the first change Vivian brought into fruition. Her and Seraphina went to the capital first, to seek an audience. While the people decided to never take her seriously in the beginning, after a bit of persuasive means from the gift, they had agreed to sign over their legislation over to Vivian.


    Before leaving, she emparted a means to communicate with some of the kinder individuals who worked for the former capitalists. Vivian would be able to reach out to all those that have asked and come to the city looking for any kind of help they need.


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    Returning home wasn¡¯t easy. Not only the one the girls have made their own but also to Murlay. They didn¡¯t live a life that was as kind to them as the former capital, she couldn¡¯t help others without at least offering help to the ones she loves the most.


    She started from watching at a distance, helping in subtle ways that no one could see or think anything the wiser. She was comfortable this way and she could see that everything was as the same as it¡¯s ever been. Some things have changed as well and it was this point that Seraphina had clung to.


    It wasn¡¯t gentle in any regard, Seraphina reminded Vivian that if they can move on, so can she. Both the villagers and herself had become new people in the years gone by and it was Vivian¡¯s idea to take care of the people of the world so that they could thrive. The people of Murlay were also people of this world, they were also now her people that shouldn¡¯t be ignored.


    -


    The reunion wasn¡¯t an easy one. Most of the people looked at her in fear, wonder or absurdity. She survived being cast out in isolation for years when everyone had thought she was dead a long time ago.


    The doctor was the first to welcome her back warmly and rather emotionally and she was finally able to thank him fully for the opportunity at surviving.


    The next to address her was the matchmaker, who was filled with scorn, contempt and some rage, as Vivian stood the proof that her ideas and machinations don¡¯t always go as she expects them to and she may not always be right. She wanted to send the woman away but Vivian now held her ground when before she used to concede to anything she was told.


    As a village elder, the matchmaker didn¡¯t have a say when it came to less domestic affairs and more village oriented matters. Vivian waited for the village chief but who she waited on was not what she expected. Amerris was the one to greet her as village chief, alongside with him was Eva who was more overjoyed to see her childhood friend and sister alive and well. While the old woman balked at the idea of granting Vivian an audience to talk to, Amerris couldn¡¯t break his wife¡¯s heart and turn her away a second time. Had it been Raul, that would have been a different story.


    It was thanks to Amerris¡¯s patience, generosity and love for his wife that he and Vivian had come to a conclusion to further help their mutual home. He offered, Eva begged, for Vivian to come back to the village to stay but in her heart she couldn¡¯t. Even if she had her childhood home back, it could never feel like home again. Instead she and Seraphina decided to stay just on the outskirt of the village.


    In the long run, it was also the safest place for Seraphina as well. Rumors spread through the village like wildfire since Vivian had not taken the reunion trip alone and many speculated that Vivian¡¯s diagnosis was false or that some kind of foul play was to be had. Seraphina¡¯s origins was the biggest marvel that Vivian would never grant an answer to. It didn¡¯t matter where she was from, what mattered was that she was here now, by Vivian¡¯s side happy, and there to help.


    -


    From there, in the mansion on the slopes of the Village Vivian was there heralded as the first Tsaritsa of Iglaseas. From there, she continued to do all she could to help build up her home and protect the people, going so far as to detain Lana.


    It was on one fateful night during the middle of summer a blizzard had crept over the Village when most were asleep and unable to notice the chill right away. Vivian had been up late that night, reading letters that come somewhat frequently about the news of other villages that used to contact the former capital.


    Vivian had decided to inspect what had brought on the change in weather when she saw the incoming blizzard which was absurdly out of season. As she watched the white wall approach was when the real warning signs came. Through the blizzard''s veil, large luminous blue eyes pierced the icy white curtain and the unmistakable sound of a bugle echoed across the snow. There was no way to deny that Lana was approaching.


    Everyone had slept through that night, no one heard or saw anything that happened in the dark. But regardless of what had occurred, in the morning no one was missing, no stone on any road was harmed and not a thing out of place, with only one exception.


    Half on the slopes and sliding through the valley into a mountain range lay a new geological structure that hadn¡¯t been there before. A glacier, tall enough to block out the setting suns in winter, shined against the light of that summer day, reflecting and refracting a myriad of colors in strength and triumph.


    There were no other signs that a blizzard had approached that night, not even the hunters found anything strange. The only thing strange was that for the next couple days, the Tsaritsa could not bring it in herself to sleep until she finally caved into her exhaustion days later.

 The First Tsaritsa Pt. 9

    ¡°So you weren¡¯t the first?¡± A young boy asked while being carried in the arms of his mother. He wasn¡¯t big but will soon be growing too old to be carried. ¡°No, of course not Anton.¡± She answered gently. ¡°But is that it? Is that the end of the story?¡± he asked impatiently. ¡°What else is there to say?¡± she smiled and stepped away from the window where the two had watched the sun set.


    ¡°What about the demi-goddess and warrior and when a bunch of warriors gathered together for an epic battle and-¡± ¡°Well that¡¯s a whole nother story now, isn¡¯t it?¡± she interrupted with a small laugh. ¡°Yeah but-¡± ¡°Your majesty? There¡¯s someone here to see you.¡± The boy was interrupted again, this time by one of the staff of their home.


    ¡°Who is it?¡± His mother asked, turning to glance at which staff member came and interrupted their mother and son bonding moment.


    ¡°It¡¯s Guenevere.¡± they answered and she quietly nodded and set Anton on his own feet. ¡°I¡¯ll be there in a minute.¡± she spoke over her shoulder then spoke down to her son. ¡°Anton, go back to your room now, I have some important things to take care of.¡± She told him.


    ¡°Can¡¯t I say ¡®hi¡¯ too?¡± He pouted. ¡°Not this time my little fire, this is important business.¡±


    ¡°Am I only just a business transaction to you now?¡± A voice asked from the doorway of the room, it was said with flamboyance in such a dramatic way that it was clearly not a question or assumption made seriously.


    Guenevere stood in the doorway, one arm resting on the door frame, their weight leaning into their forearm, with hip jutting out. Their head tilted slightly, causing their horns to tap against the wood but not dent the gold disc that adorned them. The disc reflected the golden light from the flames in the hair¡ªjust like Seraphina¡¯s. However, Guenevere¡¯s hair was wilder, untamed, brushed back from her face but burning like an inferno down her back, reaching the top of her hips.


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    Unlike Seraphina, Guenevere¡¯s eyes were much darker, and her skin was sun-kissed, bronzed by her environment. Her hand, etched with dark crimson veins, was twisted and clawed, creeping up the length of her forearm, reflective of the deep red of her horns.


    ¡°You are, only when you forget how to knock¡± Said the Tsaritsa turning to face the intruder.


    ¡°Guenevere!¡± The boy ran off, full force, into them as they made another dramatic display as though the force was too much, but everyone knew they weren¡¯t actually that hurt. ¡°Hey scamp.¡± They patted his head ¡°Hurry on up to your room like your mom said now.¡±


    Stepping out the way the boy ran off as they were instructed to probably read another chapter of some other book. ¡°What brings you back here?¡± his mom asked while folding her arms.


    ¡°What do you mean by ¡°what brings me back?¡± With all that reminiscing, I thought you would have remembered. We have a special occasion to celebrate, Princess." Guenevere grinned wide with mischief.


    ¡°It¡¯s your majesty.¡± she stated back bluntly. ¡°How about just Seraphina?¡± ¡°Fine.¡± she conceded.


    Triumphant, Guenevere pulled her in closer with an arm around the waist and leaned in, pressing her nose into Seraphina¡¯s cheek as she playfully refused to respond to the affections shown to her. ¡°Well, the reservation at Arusifa is at 8.¡± they said and slipped away out of smacking distance.


    ¡°Really? Reservation at 8? Do you ever get tired of being this cheeky?¡± Seraphina asked while rolling her eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll quit when i¡¯m dead~¡± Vere chirped back ¡°And i got 8 more lifes to go babe bbuuuutttt-¡± they turned back around from their quick and tactical retreat ¡°you can make it only 7 by tomorrow¡± they said with a wink. ¡°It¡¯ll be 6 if you keep this up.¡± Seraphina shot back a cocky smirk, reaching for a shoe to throw.

 The Forever After Life

    In a large open expanse, there wasn¡¯t anyone yet. Everyone else was much further along while the man who trudged forward had only just arrived.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a while huh?¡± he said, as the dark woodsmoke scales rippled over his chest and shoulders in a strained laugh. His tail dragged heavy behind him and across the unseen floor the two individuals stayed on.


    ¡°A whole day Alexander¡­¡± Replied the other who had been waiting. His dark scruffy hair that always felt untamable was a bit more tamed, combed by long hours of stress. The 5 o¡¯clock shadow was not kept in any way although through the disheveled appearance, Alexander knew it was still him by the tattoos that stretched up the arm, over the shoulder and covered the pectoral.


    ¡°I guess you could say I couldn¡¯t stand to be apart.¡± Alexander sneered in an attempt to make a joke he wasn¡¯t quite accustomed to doing. Stopping in front of the man who was waiting, stared at the back that was facing him. The man sat on the floor, one leg propped up, the other wrapped around the first and used his arm to lean on the standing knee. ¡°What did you do?¡± The man on the ground asked, his head tilting to the side and furrowed his eyebrows for the unpleasant news.


    ¡°I-...¡± Alexander started before taking a sigh ¡°I gave up.¡± He said, giving into the weight of his own body, he sat down on the ground and leaned his back up against the other¡¯s, tired and exhausted, with not much left within himself. ¡°You gave up to cause all of this?¡± Dylan asked the man who joined him on the ground without turning to face him, gesturing out in front of himself even though it wouldn¡¯t be seen. ¡°Alexander¡­¡± his words grew soft ¡°I died¡­¡± ¡°I know.¡± Alexander filled the silence, almost in fear of letting it scream the echoes of the hard truth. ¡°It wasn¡¯t supposed to be like this¡­¡±


    ¡°Then how was it supposed to be?¡± Dylan asked. A small amount of desperation could be heard in his weakness, needing an answer, even if it was a disappointing one and ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± was what he got. ¡°What did you know then?¡± he whispered, crestfallen further. ¡°All I¡¯ve ever known was to plan ahead and to plan better.¡±


    Alexander searched into the vastness before him, a path he wasn¡¯t sure how far he had walked that displayed nothing for his eyes to find. ¡°I never knew when to be done¡­¡± he resigned.


    ¡°Well, it is now.¡± The bartender¡¯s voice came from behind the crocodilian. ¡°Where is Ethan?¡±


    Alive and as spineless as ever.¡± the reptile laughed.


    ¡°You always hated him.¡± Dylan stated. ¡°But not as much as I hated you.¡± Alexander replied bitterly. ¡°Why was that?¡± came the first of the two, turning his head almost to look back at the late arriver but stopping before he could see.


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    ¡°You left¡­ before we could ever figure out what we had¡­¡± he answered. Despite the much larger and stronger physique of the gator, at that moment, he felt small. For a moment almost looked so much smaller than he was. ¡°I moved on Alexander.¡± Dylan reassured firmly but not without sympathy. ¡°And that¡¯s what I hated you for.¡± Alexander heaved, gaining his composure and collecting himself as he stood up, growing exhausted of the other¡¯s company.


    ¡°We could figure that out now. We have all the time we could ever want.¡± Dylan spoke with a bit of irony despite it being the truth. He never left his seated position on the floor or fully turned to look at the other man, but neither did Alexander look at him.


    His body stood tense, chest aching with a pain that felt more vulnerable and more exposed than it had ever been in his life. ¡°Would we ever?¡± he asked through gritted teeth, not expecting an answer.


    ¡°You let me see my father one last time¡­¡± Dylan reached up behind him for Alexander¡¯s hand but again hesitated just before making contact and let his arm fall back down into his lap. ¡°It¡¯s been so long that I had started to forget what he looked like¡­ and yet I still missed him.¡±


    ¡°You fought valiantly¡­¡± Alexander spoke in slow earnest, reminiscing at the intensity of the fight. ¡°And so did he¡± Dylan interrupted his silence with a voice that had a hint of a smile on his lips. ¡°He had always promised to let me see the beast he conquered once. I finally got to see that.¡± he gave into the smile fully, at ease knowing that even in the worst of life, his father had always kept his promises.


    ¡°Yet it was the last thing you ever saw.¡± said the man standing with bitterness at his friend¡¯s fate, his head hanging lower again pained by the events his own actions caused. ¡°For that I¡¯m not sorry.¡± Dylan said with pride. ¡°I know who I¡¯ve been all this time and that will never change.¡±


    ¡°So, what¡¯s the point in talking it all over and trying to justify anything. We¡¯re both already done.¡± The last words choked out as he struggled in handling all the emotions that began to swell. Emotions that have been suppressed for an entire lifetime, came bubbling to the surface with no way to contain them. ¡°We could figure out what we had?...¡± whispered timidly.


    Alexander¡¯s footsteps started across an infinite floor forward to move on. ¡°Maybe in another lifetime,¡± he sighed.


    ¡°Our souls are already gone, you know? It¡¯s just us now.¡± Dylan called out. ¡°Just us and our memories, to live on here.¡± The footsteps behind him stopped and he could hear another tired breath before more steps, undoing the advancement forward that was started. ¡°Then I guess we do have time.¡± The gator returned. ¡°Enough time to answer every question we ever had.¡± Dylan could feel the warmth of Alexander¡¯s back press against his, bringing in some comfort in his company and his forgiveness. ¡°We can make up for everything gone¡­ and all the time we¡¯ve lost.¡± leaning his head back against the broad shoulders, Dylan closed his eyes with a pained smile. Tears of relief made their way down his unkempt face as he listened to the strained quiet sobs of his dear old friend.

 A Cowards Way to Fill the Time

    The country was going to collapse. Emmit knew the reality had been staring him in the face and he had spent way too long trying to hide from the unfortunate gaze to have many options left. Such are the woes of the life of a coward.


    While he hid, his colleagues readied up for the impending battle to come, gave all they could to the eldritch demon they sold their souls to or died in service to the infernal. His buddy and partner had straight up defied the owner of their souls, joined forces with a demon slayer and started planting roots to a new life he was ready to defend. Emmit had just stayed in the middle, neither serving nor defying because he was too scared to do either.


    -


    On the day he sold his soul, he was a coward then too. 30 people had been bound and dragged to the pit of hell after working to prove their loyalty. Emmit used to look forward to it, he¡¯s heard the power that some of the gang lords had from this demon¡¯s power and he wanted an easy way to power and influence too. He had no other aspirations, no family, no friends and no dreams; he was shamefully bland in every sense.


    What Emmit didn¡¯t expect that day was the slaughtering. The fatal strike that was given to each and every person who looked for demonic approval so that the true choice was to either join or die. He was terrified but not everyone was. The first person out of the group chose death, the coward''s way out and what would have been the option Emmit picked as well if it wasn¡¯t for the second person.


    The next they dragged out of the group already had a hard edge to them that made him almost intimidating to look at or meet his gaze. Since it was his turn to either choose death or join, they plunged a dagger into his chest. The group that watched stirred in mixed emotions while watching their fates but Emmit was in awe as this guy never broke eye contact with the one who stabbed him. He kept that eye contact through what has been described as the worst pain beyond imaginable. For the rest of Emmit¡¯s life he told no one, but to him, that guy was cool beyond explanation and that¡¯s why he chose to follow him around wherever he went.


    -


    Life hadn¡¯t been as great as he originally hoped. He was almost stuck working in some of the lowest ranked fields without being able to rise up, he usually got the short end of the stick because Emmit still could never learn to grow out of being a coward. Too spineless to stand up for himself, always sneaking out of every bad situation, and too scared to actively pursue anything that wasn¡¯t handed to him, he otherwise stuck with that edgy badass, whom he later learned was named Cifer.


    The closer to D-day approached, the more stuck on the fence Emmit became until he was given that one last push. His superiors never needed him to do anything anymore, people hardly paid him any mind and went about their own business. Sure he did have a problem from being annoying and clingy so it wasn¡¯t new but this was different. Everyone was just now too busy for him and he wasn¡¯t against it, he didn¡¯t want to die in any kind of fight or battle but also didn¡¯t want to die because of defying the owner of his soul. But a visitor came to his place one day and gave him the final decision.


    ¡°You¡¯re being given your freedom.¡± The intruding crime lord said as they entered Emmit¡¯s attic apartment. ¡°Take this and go free with whatever you want to do¡± he continued while Emmit scrambled out of his bed, not expecting anyone at all. A ring clattered against the ground towards him the figure had tossed forwards and the cowardly Foxian had just barely time to recover before trying to grab at what was tossed. Emmit quickly looked it over and turned back to the more powerful of the two and just asked ¡°Why?..¡± The man gave no answer, only listed out the conditions his new found freedom came with. ¡°You would not talk about any kind of connections or reputation of any from this life has or have had. You will neither explain all that you know about our inner workings and system.¡±


    Emmit slowly nodded, that was enough and without more the man turned and left, that was that, he was now completely freed. Slipping on the ring, there was a clarity of mind that it brought, pushing away the distant whispers that always echoed and buzzed about the head from the demon and others. With this new found freedom, he went for a walk.


    -


    Emmit just kept walking, undisturbed, unstopped by anyone cultist or guards alike. He wandered to the upper floors of their city, ascending higher than he¡¯s ever traveled before and taking in the beautiful sights around him for the first time. The clean streets, finished buildings that had no sign of cracks or wears, fresh paint and pristine appearances. It almost felt like traveling to an entirely new world and it was beautiful.


    Emmit has traveled to other places before but never knew that only several layers of hardened metal, lives above his own, was a place that can be so peaceful and lovely. He got to see the sky of his home for the first time and with some finagling in a previous layer, he was able to find clothes of some service attire to blend in with the proper and nicely dressed.


    On his walk Emmit thought about what kind of life these people must be living, what does their day to day encompass and how could they manage to do it all? That was far out of his scope of understanding until he remembered that in a brief conversation his buddy Cifer mentioned that there was a time, what felt like a whole life ago, that he had lived topside once.


    For his own amusement, he looked for houses to imagine where Cifer might have lived before. Was it one of those big mansions with too many rooms to decide what to do with? Was it one of those luxury apartments that owned two whole floors to themselves? Were they the modest type to live below their means just to make their actions feel more grandiose in the public?


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    -


    It was all greatly amusing until he noticed a ¡°For Sale¡± sign on one of the giant fancy and luxury mansions he came across. With nothing else better to do, he wanted to find out just how much would these homes cost anyways. With all the freedom he could want and all the time on his hands, he decided to investigate. Going through the proper and legal chain, for the first time in his life, he was surprised to see that people, while apprehensive about him, were still cordial, professional. These people didn¡¯t kick him in the shins or trip him up at first glance, bark down to him or try and do one over on him. It was nice for once; nice enough for him to start to wonder if there was a possibility he could have been able to turn his life around at some point before passing the point of no return.


    The homes that were for sale were astonishingly cheap for their worth. Houses that were formerly worth 8 figures were now within the 4 and 5 figure costs, wildly affordable. The realtors explained that it was most people¡¯s ¡°last minute ditch efforts to try and earn some money back¡± while also leaving to save themselves since there was a large possibility that the homes wouldn¡¯t make it through whatever may come.


    Looking through the quick catalog of homes, he knew he could afford it with all the expensive stuff Cifer dumped on him and some extra cash scraped together. He thought about living on top while it all goes south to enjoy the final hour but on the other hand, what would be the point? To make sure the house was comfortable enough to live in would take about a week and then how much time after that would he have? Not much. But Cifer and his new life could. The ol¡¯ bastard already went and redeemed himself to some goddess and will be able to live a cute little happily ever after. A lot of the money would be coming from Cifer¡¯s stuff anyways.


    -


    So that¡¯s what Emmit decided to do. Spending his time selling what he could with a renewed internet connection, thanks to the guild and selling what he could to evacuation groups. Having an expensive glass of wine or champagne to calm the nerves, take the whole bottle in some cases and running quick errands. Because the evacuation groups had to follow a process and couldn''t simply leave and return, Emmit started running quick errands for people. He would go to their homes or businesses to retrieve items they had left behind, hoping to complete the tasks quickly enough to earn some tips. There were times he took a little too long and the people he was running errands for already left before he came back, so he would return the belongings to the guild attendants who definitely did not tip.


    Passing the time that way was definitely occupying the empty loneliness that lurked just out of sight, so when Cifer finally did reach back out again he was more excited to hear from his buddy. Maybe he might need help with something, or he could get Cifer anything or just tell him how everything was going. He may have also been a little too eager to hear from his buddy and partner that Cifer¡¯s evasiveness didn¡¯t even effect himself anymore like it might have. It also didn¡¯t deter him from what his plans about the house are. It was truly a once in a lifetime opportunity and it needed to be taken and used for a whole rest of a lifetime. That¡¯s how Emmit saw it.


    When his old partner didn¡¯t need him anymore, he just went back to what he did before and very quickly was able to scrape enough to afford a nice big house. One that had a little green house/garden extension, a nice big bedroom and even a little pool on a balcony. Maybe this is something Cifer would like, him and his new partner. He filled out all the paperwork, even put down Cifer¡¯s name for the purchase, money all deposited and transferred. Emmit did it all, up until the signature for the deed was needed, that part he will leave for Cifer to sign and turn in. There was still free time, so he went about cleaning up just anything that looked out of place. A knocked over trash Can, return the trash into the bin, sweep away broken glass, straighten up a door that leaned tilted on its hinges. All menial work just to get out of his head as time ticked closer and closer.


    Eventually, he decided that maybe he could write a letter. It¡¯s rather melodramatic and something emotional saps would find themselves doing, but maybe Cifer might miss the gift he¡¯s leaving him if he doesn¡¯t write any instructions down; he won¡¯t be there to tell Cifer himself. And so he did.


    ¡°Hey buddy,


    From the sounds of it, it sounds like you¡¯re giving the big guy a run for his money down there. Some people have come from the higher levels and even they say that the tremors can be felt from all the way up there. I wasn¡¯t going to write anything but it seems like I got some time on my hands. In the chances this world doesn¡¯t go to absolute shit and the goddesses decide to wipe this planet off the star maps, I got you some stuff for after your big redemption battle.


    Some nice drinks to savor or share or sell if you want. I got an envelope for ya, I was thinking it would be better than that rickety old thing you had. I vaguely remembered some of the stuff you told me about the great ol¡¯ life before and hope it meets your standards. While I did get most of the money from the stuff you told me to just keep, I figured they could be put to better use. I counted out the days and even if I stayed wasted, I couldn¡¯t finish it all by myself. Bummed out I never got to find myself a bad bitch to be my ride or die like you. I kinda guessed by how defensive you got when I was talking about ol curly locks so don¡¯t get mad at anyone for spilling the beans. You can¡¯t hide anything from your partner, I know ya too well bud. Pour a cold one out for me bud but don¡¯t think that¡¯ll get you off the hook, you owe me. This whole situation has been so much more than I signed up for. You looked really tough when we first met. You know me and my ironclad will, I don¡¯t get scared; but it hasn''t been easy. It would have been easier if I had my buddy around.


    I missed the last evacuation call getting that paperwork, I think the chick at the desk noticed the white fur showing.


    I been forgetting to keep the whites away.


    As for repayment, in the next life, you gotta get me-¡±


    The letter trailed off at the end, the final sentences seemingly written down in a rush as though they were spur of the moment thoughts to try and fill in the rest of the page. Emmit sat next to the table, with his arms crossed, an unlit cigar in one hand, the other holding a pencil that poked at his cheek. It looked as though he fell asleep, deep in thought and unable to put together those last final words.

 Memory from a Compass

    Impending dread and horror surges over you for a moment before sizzling down as the memory faded in.


    You sit in the cabin of a ferris wheel overlooking a large expanse of land built up for childhood wonder and dreams, a sea of lights as far as it could reach, expanding all the way to the coast. You can see yourself in the reflection of the window, smiling, next to you a small girl and across on the other bench a man reaching about middle aged. Your daughter excitedly pointed out things here or there that entertained her curiosity and wonder when she pointed out something new and odd asking you what it was. You aren¡¯t sure but from the distance it looks like a large explosion had erupted at the pier along the coast line. Your husband also looked out the window but now with a strained expression before declaring ¡°We need to go.¡± Trying to console him went by in a blur. You can hear him muttering, having a distant conversation with the ride operator who just stood, looking away and also completely distracted. Eventually the Ferris wheel slowly started to turn one by one. ¡°This isn''t going fast enough, we''re going to climb.¡± he declared before busting open the door and used a scarf out of his bag of holding to help his daughter hold on to him more securely and started climbing down. ¡°William!¡± You screamed at him, ¡°Are you mad?!?!?¡± You yelled absolutely terrified and in his attempt to be encouraging replied ¡°It''s all in the name my dear.¡± But he never stopped his descent.


    Terrified and carefully following your husband''s movements down, the 3 of you reached the ground faster than what the ride operator was moving. Some people were confused but your husband led the two of you through the crowds back to the City hall. It wasn¡¯t easy with the distance and thickening crowds, especially after tremors shook the entire carnival began to wreck with tremors and more people wanting to leave.


    Fear kept your adrenaline going to have the strength to push through the crowd making sure your daughter was safe and she wasn''t pushed out of your arms.


    Just when you were almost there, your husband stopped for a moment and grabbed you by your shoulders so you looked at him. Pulling something out of his pocket, he pulled out the compass, keyring still attached and the keys gently dangling from the bottom of the compass. With some effort he pried off the ring and snapped off one of the keys pressing both into your hand. ¡°Take Adaline and go. I''ll make a distraction to make sure you two can make it.¡± ¡°But what about you-¡± your words choked out dry from your throat but he gave you a quick kiss, and kissed your daughter on the head. ¡°Don''t worry about me, I have the keys. Take the compass, as long as you have that, we will always know how to find each other.¡±


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Before you could answer, he spun the two of you around and shoved you deeper into the crowd. Once fairly deep into the community building, the last glimpse of him you saw was him turning around and decking the first person near him across the face. The staggered individual knocked some other people over while their company retaliated back at him, making a crowd fight in front of the entrance.


    It indeed slowed the crowd but not enough as people still pushed through towards the large room full of teleport pods. People still shoved back and the one moment of hesitating for your husband caused the next person to shove into you caused your daughter to get ripped from your arms. Turning to your daughter you barely could make her out through the sea of people and disappearing quickly. Reaching out for her and pushing through the crowd, someone grabs your wrist and pulls you forward.


    A teenager wearing a striped uniform pushed you forward and into a very tight chamber cramped with other people. ¡°Wait! Please, my daughter! She''s right there!¡± You scream through the people but the teenager continues to pile more people in after you. ¡°Yes ma''am, everyone is in a hurry.¡±


    Looking around yourself as the glass chamber pods closed, you looked at the people around you, a pod meant for 5 people had now well over 12 people crammed in too tight as one last shock made breathing impossible. With how many people being teleported out, the possibility for malfunctions could be fatal yet there was nothing you could do. Just watch as the employee pressed the button. The chaos left behind. As the warm glow of a rising sun of a vast desert stretches before you. Absolutely petrified in a state of shock, you fainted.


    This memory was significant to the owner because it was the last day they were happy and the last time they saw both their husband and their child.

 The Twisted Vines Bloomed Pt. 1

    In the modern vintage world of Montranoe and inside the capitals, Status meant most everything. While many years of modernization has occurred this has only strengthened people¡¯s belief in traditionalism. It was considered highly valuable in order to sustain a way of life, holiday or in family from one generation to the next, solidifying the history of their own family name from when they came to be. There was no family that had made an exception of this rule, from peasant to the highest ranking nobles and royalty.


    Steelingfleet was a family name that no one in the streets would know. Like many up and coming families, no one recognized them. Sure they attended social functions, sustained a slow growing business but that was the best extent that they had.


    The Steelingfleet family name started from a handyman in a ship¡¯s yard.


    Saun Steel was a crafty seaman and talented mason. He was no artisan in any right but was highly efficient in carving out the necessary gears, cogs and bolts out of virtually anything but best of all stone. Saun had always been hard working, making sure that each task given was fulfilled with complete satisfaction from both himself and the client. While he focused on his own tasks, this led him to rarely ever asking for much, and had little to be upset about; the only exception being when his work was impeded.


    Everyone could vouch for the young man all through his career, starting from his teenage years and into his young adult life. This was how he gained the attention of the Lamborans family.


    The Lamborans are high nobility in the Second King¡¯s Domain. They closely work with those in the king''s inner circle through supply of any and all that they need. While they hone no product or physical skill which they have to prove themselves, there was nothing they couldn¡¯t find. Their skills of search and acquisition is exactly how they found the Saun and employed his expertise.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Kept out of the public¡¯s ear, there had been a long, on-going dispute between the Kings¡¯ domains. The resources in the second kingdom do not come as close as what is supplied into the first kingdom. What the advisors needed was an expert in their respective fields, to coordinate and allocate resources only as needed to optimize constructing military resources. This wasn¡¯t an easy task but one that had turned out more than just successful due to Saun¡¯s management and his taking the lead on the project, results better than what was predicted and in an efficient amount of time.


    This was how Saun Steel became the first of his newly granted noble title Saun Steelingfleet. For the fleet of ships, his initiative has brought for the second kingdom.


    -


    Well that was a very long time ago.


    Over time, each child was taught the value of hard work, but time also shifted the message. With love, each parent would tell their children that with hard work and dedication, they could achieve great things as long as they focused and put their minds to it.


    Then the message changed again. parents began telling their children, with love, that if they worked hard, they would make their families proud.


    The message slowly kept changing, in time losing the love parents held out for their children, focusing on the importance of work, emphasizing more and more on accomplishment. There eventually came a time where the only thing that would keep you within the family was to either out-perform all of one¡¯s predecessor¡¯s accomplishments, doing something great or by eliminating the head of the house.


    The home this family had moved to became one of lethality, fierce competition and years of haunted hallways with the blood of their own kind on their hands. More tragedy has happened within the shadows of every corner than the story of the infamous MacBeth.


    The worst tragedy of all was on a darkened storming night.

 The Twisted Vines Bloomed Pt. 2

    Montranoe wasn¡¯t particularly known for any kind of rough weather but it was a country that was neither free of them either. In the rainy seasons, rain storms were bound to drop inches of water per rainfall, filling up water reserves, lakes and widening rivers that have dwindled throughout the year. It was during this raining season that would start the catalyst to change many things known to this nation because it all happened to a special boy, at the age of 8, named Rannith.


    Rannith, while biological child of the current patriarch and lady of the Steelingfleet house name, being born into the name has long since been considered unworthy. To acquire or inherit the family name, their children must complete one of the many, unspoken trials, through their life.


    Become better and more of themselves than their former, accomplish more than their former or kill the head of the house. It is a cruel and undeserving fate for children, generation to generation, to be born to accomplish, complete trials, always striving.


    Kahlia was not aware of the cruel weight on their shoulders just yet, like her older brother has, growing more aware with each day and week and month goes by. Days before this rainy night he had overheard his parents in his father¡¯s study, sitting warm by the fire while they sipped at a nice bottle of Murrah wine. The alcohol seemed to help them relax as he overheard how they enjoyed the spoils of his father¡¯s success, in recent business negotiations with a particularly troublesome company. It was the first time he¡¯s ever heard them laugh before. As much as he wanted to see what their stone chiseled faces looked like when they smiled, it would only get him in trouble for opening the door and eavesdropping. So he decided to listen quietly to the relaxed and unfamiliar tones of his family until they brought up the conversation about him and his sister.


    He listened with a held breath, yearning to hear any kind of praise, good word or kind favor to either of the adults¡¯ own children but there was none. The words they spoke in relaxed and content tones about their own children were snide, jeering and seemed to bore their jovial moods. The blessing that their prayer had been answered by the goddess for their first born to be a boy but found it disappointing that he wasn¡¯t blessed with any other gifts; besides that he didn¡¯t HAVE to be their first born son if they ever changed their minds. Mused at the strategic advantage it could bring for a child who can change into anything they told them to be, but his sister. Not even in their ridicule was she considered anything besides a disappointment. The only usefulness they considered that she might have is if she could be taught chores along with noble etiquette so that if she couldn¡¯t push bast her withdrawn nature and become useful, she could always be sold off as a high lady in waiting, quality staff member or luxury slave.


    The contrast in their meager sentiments between the two siblings broke his heart, because out of everyone, Rannith loved his sister the most; by the way the house operated too, he was probably the only one. He couldn¡¯t listen to the cruel and calloused ways his parents spoke about them on the floor in the hallway as the words floated out from under the door any longer. Climbing to his feet, he ran to his shared room, to his sister. Through the tears, he couldn¡¯t tell her what he heard, through the tears she tried her best to comfort him even though she struggled to understand tears. Through the tears he began thinking, planning on ways so that no one could take his sister from him, from their home, oblivious that he only had days to do so.


    -


    Only a couple nights had passed as the rains still stormed. The quiet, cold and unfeeling dinners they shared at one table only felt more distant. While Rannith and Kahlia sat at one end of the table, side by side, their parents sat on the opposite end of the wooden tablescape. After dinner they were to study for 1 hour and 30 minutes at least before they were allowed to go to bed which was exactly what they did. It¡¯s what they have always done, do what they¡¯re told because all obedient children do what they¡¯re told, but it¡¯s not like it would ever be good enough.


    Kahlia had finished her studying before her brother. She stuck to her 1 and a half hour study hours in order to go to sleep sooner but he had stayed up a tad bit longer, just to finish his subject. Hardly more than 15 minutes but 15 minutes made all the difference.


    When Rannith entered their shared room, all the lights had been turned off and his sister was already fast asleep in a bundle of blankets, his bed remained untouched. Most of the house had quieted for the night as well, putting all tools and supplies away, turning off candles and only checking their work stations left.


    The boy was getting ready to sleep himself when sound began picking up again. The first sounds were subtle, down the hall or under the stairs. The second sound definitely came from the distant walkway in another room. A crash. One of the staff members had dropped or broken something in another room, an empty one, but all rooms are kept maintained. The next was someone closer saying something, quiet and strained before something heavier was dropped this time.


    He wasn¡¯t able to discern what was being said due to the weather. The rain crashed hard on the roof, the balcony and poured over the edges of the small windowsill garden; the one Kahlia made in a pottery class was turned into a trickling waterfall. The water drowned out most of the sounds, disturbing what could already have been heard through the white noise.


    Those moments that came after opening their door again is a memory Rannith would never be able to forget.


    When the door opened, the hallway was as dark as he imagined but there was a different kind of scent in the air, something he¡¯s not smelt before, stinging his nose. Someone was standing in the hallway. They looked wet but they stood still, their back facing the young boy as their clothes dripped onto the red carpets.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Umm, excuse me?¡± He asked tentatively, unsure what was going on, who he was or what anyone would do inside the house that late. But as he stepped forward, he stepped into the soaked carpets, hardly visible in the lower lighting but with the lights on, the way the two shades marbled together would be much more apparent to the discerning eye.


    Rannith looked at his feet, the look of terror in the nanny¡¯s eyes as her head peered up at him, looking past in its mutilated condition. The sight turned his stomach upside down as all these feelings rushed towards him from horror, fear. He wanted to scream and cry out, throw up and sob while his small body trembled like a leaf, in the cold, in the rain, in the terror.


    ¡°Heeeyyyyy kid. You¡¯re not supposed to beee here.¡± An unfamiliar raspy voice called out to him. The man in the hallways turned around now, noticing that neither of them was alone at that moment. The clay wire cutter was already stuffed into the man¡¯s back pocket and under the cloak before he could turn around but that didn¡¯t hide the blood stains down the front of his tunic, on his hands and on his pants where he attempted to clean them off. He held out his hands towards Rannith in a clumsy way, reeking of a bitter smell, the kind of smell his parents always called cheap and for the poor. ¡°I¡¯m a father too, you see. I¡¯m not goooonnaa hurt ya. I have my own little boy back home too. I¡¯m here to talk to mommy and daddy. Just. Don¡¯t. Screa-¡± he approached slowly, hands raised, palms facing forward but his plea was interrupted by a high pitched scream.


    In the room next to him, another person disguised in a soaking wet cloak, held Kahlia around the neck as she cried and kicked pointlessly. It wasn¡¯t clear right away at what was happening until a dagger in the free hand silhouetted against the rain only for a moment.


    Her brother didn¡¯t even have time to think before he rushed forward, closing the distance as fast as he possibly could, lunching for the attacking arm. The shift of weight threw the man off balance so the initial knife plunge missed, only leaving a surface level cut down the small girl¡¯s cheek.


    Kahlia was dropped almost immediately as the person flung their arm to shake off the boy who clung on for his sister¡¯s and own life. His feet couldn¡¯t grasp a good foot holding on the adult to stop himself from swinging but he always had his tail. A long leathery black appendage he was naturally born with but also could have just as easily naturally hidden as well, but not this time. His tail whipped forward, the boney spade of the tail tip plunged blindly into the torso and injected as much lethal poison he could muster. With his hands slipping, the idea just came that he needed to just let go and he did. The moment that was given was by the person pulling back and their arm lifted, an opposite force of Rannith¡¯s weight, so when they stood he lifted his hands against the arm and pushed against the floor.


    A sickening gurgling sound bubbled from above him and he didn¡¯t dare look, not when he could see his sister wide eyed in shock and fear at what he just did. He stepped away ashamed, at what he had done and how his sister¡¯s perception of him would forever change in that moment, he could never dare believe that she would see him the way she had before. Like the man in the hallway he too now had blood on his own hands, by the color of it, the blood certainly wasn¡¯t his own.


    Just like his sister, he was scared too. The intruder fell to the ground, they didn¡¯t move or say anything like the first person did. The first person had disappeared without a sound or a trace. He wanted to cry too, cry like he did when he heard that she was going to be taken from him the first time. She was almost taken again. Kahlia didn¡¯t say anything or move away as he crawled on the ground to hug his sister. They both were trembling in the dark, in the cold that blew in from the billowing open window.


    Next was footsteps. Again. But these ones were different, frantic, in a hurry and not alone. They were familiar but not in the same way they¡¯ve been heard before.


    Their parents'' steps stopped for a moment, with only 1 knight to spare, for their own protection. The hallway hadn¡¯t bothered them like it had for their children, they¡¯ve seen and done far worse. But their surprise when seeing the children¡¯s room was a face that neither child would ever see again nor would their parents ever make.


    As the lights flicked on, their father had a wide hysterical grin across his lips, fear and joy roared like a bonfire in his eyes. Fueled by relief he laughed out, not for the children but for himself, a broken and maniacal laugh. The only words he could get out were through wheezes as he announced to his wife ¡°They really did try it, they tried to kill us after all¡±. He returned to his fit of madness in order to calm his nerves.


    Their mother was hardly different as she kept her stoic posture, hands folding one over the other, shoulders tight and feet together. She made no move to comfort either of her children but fear lined the creases of her mature complexion, just like a doe might feel when spotting a wolf creeping closer.


    Just as quickly as the hysteria came, did it leave, like nothing happened. Looking not as scornfully as usual he turned to the two, trembling on the floor together, they both now stained with the traces of blood. ¡°Who was it?¡± He asked cool, no sympathy, like when asking for report cards or progress on their studies. There wasn¡¯t an answer right away though, as he would have expected. All sound and words had been stuck in the daughter¡¯s throat while their son was utterly speechless.


    ¡°What happened here?¡± he asked again. What did happen here? That¡¯s what Rannith tried to understand. There were strangers, and people were hurt.. That¡¯s where it started. ¡°There were strangers¡­ In the hall and in the room¡­¡± He began slowly. His father slowly nodded listening, in a businessman''s composure but this made Rannith hesitate. He almost lost his sister¡­ and he will lose his sister again¡­ this was a couple who neither comforted them nor found much use in either of them, even more so for his sister that they may not even wait for her own debut.


    ¡°Kahlia.¡± he blurted out and his sister stared at him even more horrified. ¡°She was in our room¡­ and I looked into the hallway.. that¡¯s¡­ when someone came in from the balcony and she¡­ saved me.¡± That was it. That¡¯s the story he would have to live with. He lied, his sister knew it, and there was no one else to object.


    While his sister grew more anxious about the trouble she believed he had put her into, she was just as shocked to be scooped up in their father¡¯s arms. He never does that. She broke her silence with a quiet scream, having just been picked up moments prior and still terrified, but he hugged her. He held his daughter in his arms tightly, warm, embracing the wet and the stains and the warmth from his shivering daughter, he held her tight with love. Even the wife could see it, and she smiled.


    They both were smiling. Rannith had wanted to see as much only days ago and he finally did but the cost was grave. Neither of them acknowledged he was even there in that moment, he could have been just as cold and dead as the corpse inches away from them all and they would have presided just the same. He reached out for the hem of his mother¡¯s nightgown, still scared and desperately craving any part of their attention, to be noticed or held too but she pulled away. She left him crying on the ground as she joined her husband and their daughter. ¡°Mom¡­ please?¡± he pleaded, his voice trembling. It was the only thing he could manage to say. Her response was sharp and unforgiving: ¡°And what exactly have you done for this family?¡±

 The Twisting Vines Bloomed Pt. 3

    After that day, Rannith seemed to have never existed in that manor again. Both servants and staff ignored his presence, which was only kept alive by the worried glances his sister gave and her own insistence that he be cared for. In a haunted home about usefulness and purpose, there was nothing he could ever do that would ever be good enough¡ªa statement that would go on for years.


    To Rannith''s and Kahlia''s parents, their son remained at the bottom of a never-ending waterfall of disdain and grief. Time and time again he has crumbled, tried to confess the truth of what truly happened just so that he could continue to have food to eat, a roof over his head, and a bed to sleep in each night, only to fall on deaf ears. Every time, his sister only stood there frozen as tears streamed down her cheeks at the sight of the pain she caused to the only person who had stood up for her, unable to witness the physical harm that they lashed out on him or the cold nights he had to weather outside. The pain their parents delivered because they could only believe his insolence was an attempt to tear down his sister, non-the-wiser about their children¡¯s secrets.


    -


    17


    Rannith was only 17 years old when he was thrown out before the early morning sun could grace the horizon. He was officially recognized as a legal adult the year prior, the only blessing he was given in that house.


    His parents had completely forgotten his existence, long enough that he had only a year to find anything he could, desperate, scrambling for help or guidance or a cause that could let him stay by his sister¡¯s side, in his childhood home. But nothing is ever good enough for the impossibly high standards. Nothing was ever good enough when no matter what he did, he would always be just a failure.


    Rannith wasn''t woken not by any sound but instead by the tight grip on his arm. He sat up with a start, bleary-eyed but fully alert to identify who had grabbed him; who was it that didn¡¯t give him the chance to understand or ready himself. He was ripped out of his bed and dragged out of the comfort of the sheets. Only mere moments were enough for him to collect himself to his feet and hold up his knife to this person¡¯s neck. His father slowly turned to him, disgust and rage burning in his eyes whispering through a spiteful wrath. ¡°If you try that boy, I¡¯ll kill you before you even have the chance.¡±


    He hurried the knife back into the strap of his pants, fully clothed from the day prior. He had never worn sleepwear since the incident at that point, with too many vulnerabilities, and weaknesses, and not enough pockets or places to hide things. He always needed to be prepared, always waiting.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± He asked before instantly being hushed. ¡°Keep your voice down. There will be no ''we¡¯. I don''t care where it is, but you''ll be going anywhere but this manor.¡±


    Rannith''s heart began racing out of his chest, not unexpected but there was still a great deal of fear. ¡°No, but- this is my home. I did everything for you and mother. I protected Kahli-¡± ¡°And there we go again.¡± His father interrupted, gripping tighter as he dragged his son down the stairs. ¡°I will not have you here in my house, dragging down my daughter. You have no place here.¡±


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    The front door stood solid and imposing as it approached closer and closer. Rannith dug his heels back against the cold marble floors, twisting to pull away from the iron grip. The volume of his voice rose with his fear. Who was going to continue to protect Kahlia? Not just from knives and intruders but from the wolves of society, their cruelty and manipulative ways that their parents certainly would not protect her from. Sure they would protect their own name and reputation but not Kahlia.


    The cold night air blasted through the opening doors like a gaping maw ready to swallow any and all into the dark air of the night. ¡°I''ve done everything I can for this family! I''ve protected, I''ve fought, I''ve worked for, I''ve studied and acquired accolade after accolades! Please!¡± He pushed back against the shove his father gave, direct center of his back.


    Heels on the hard floors echoed as his mother approached from down the stairs. Stoic, put together even in her nightgown. Disdain was written clearly across her face as well to match her husband''s at their biological son''s futile pleas. ¡°Try and keep it down. If I can hear your miserable sobs from the master bedroom then our daughter most certainly could if you woke her up.¡± She said calmly as a matter of fact while descending to her husband''s side. ¡°Try and act like you have manners and leave when you''re told.¡± She drones on, bored of the scene already.


    Rannith''s heart shattered because somewhere inside deep had always held out hope. While Rational said that he knew better, he still had an ember of hope for his parents. Hope that they would have accepted him too. I hope they won¡¯t completely abandon him.


    The head of the manor kicked his son in the back of the knees, taking advantage of the stupor and let the latter drop to his hands and knees. Rannith didn''t recover in time as the second kick landed firmly into his stomach, sprawling him out into the mud, and racking his head against the slick but hard surface.


    His world spun and he scrambled to grab hold of a starting surface and recover the air that was knocked out of him. As his vision settled there was something he saw, he didn''t see before he could now see clearly. Past the legs before him, on the landing of the stairs and almost completely descended stood Kahlia, wide-eyed and agape.


    How much had she seen? How long had she stood there? What was she ever thinking as she took up such a pained expression? She''s hardly talked to him for all these years. Never said anything to their parents in his defense tho either. He knew she was scared, she always has been.


    It''s the same face she''s always made when she was picked up when the knife went through the hitman''s neck. He knew she was scared but he needed her to do something, to say something, anything, after all this time. Just move, do something, look away, turn her back on him, reach out, or take a step forward even once. He just needed a sign from her, anything.


    She stayed frozen in the staircase while her brother clawed into the ground to try and get up. He reached for her, lifting his head begging her, not his parents, not the Heads of the Steelingfleet name but his sister, who he spent his life standing up for. ¡°Please¡­¡± he wheezed out ¡°Kahlia-¡± was all he could say before the toe of a fine wood and leather dress shoe flew up and landed square against his chin.


    -


    He barely woke up at the sound of his own feet dragging against the ground. The only thing he could distinguish was an aching throb in the arm he was being dragged in a cold metal hand, half-conscious.


    When he fully regained his senses, he was outside on the street. In front of the building he once called home but now stands as a presence of nightmares.


    Leave, they said. He recalled to himself, over and over as he picked himself up, taking in the scratches, scrapes, and bruises he didn''t have any memory of acquiring.


    There was only one option Rannith knew that he would go to and he started walking. If he needed to go somewhere, it would be anywhere except here, this city, country, nation, continent. He needed to leave and never come back completely. So he went to the Adventurer''s Guild.


    -


    The receptionist was kind and caring to the teenager who stumbled in off the streets, less than an hour before the sun started rising. She wanted to help, he clearly needed it but he didn''t seem to want help. Instead, he insisted on somewhere to go, somewhere to leave to.


    Of course, many places would be a nice safe haven to take in a street kid but the unsecured and non-inconspicuous knife at his side gave her a different idea. Before her shift, she had fallen asleep in front of the TV to a new broadcast of something exciting as a storm of media coverage began to flood the channels. Turning to him she asked inquisitively. ¡°How do you feel about tournament competitions?¡±

 The Twisted Vines Bloomed Pt. 4

    In the nation of tournaments, the sound of the bustling crowds and busy streets was mostly able to drown out the thoughts and fears that raced through Rannith''s mind.


    The overabundance of training centers was everywhere and the process to learn the rules and most basic techniques have been littered through every nook and cranny available. It was all too easy to streamline the basics, for those who listened and those who searched.


    Rannith was able to find a new place which he would stay for the next several years. A place to return to, a place to sleep and stay, but it never became a home.


    Affording this apartment was easy enough. Chipping in and reciting the basic rules to any and all who were freshly new, like he once was, and individual training sessions began to start paying handsomely. He needed practice, training, and it''s what he did every single day. There were no house rules to follow, no one to hide from, and no other distractions, for months on end. He devoted all his time to working tirelessly, staying focused on his training, until one specific session changed everything.


    -


    ¡°Did you know that this has been our 6th training session together?¡± Said a woman about his age and wielding a short sword that clashed with Rannith¡¯s dual knives. ¡°No. I have not realized that.¡± he returned while pushing back the long blade. ¡°Is that all you have to say?¡± she laughed, turning into the momentum of her sword to rotate into a toe kick, ¡°No discounts? Any critique on my training? See any improvements?¡±. She continued on but he stayed silent.


    Leaning back out of the range of her kick, he turned under the leg to intersect the upswipe as the sword returned to his front but the blade dug lower into the dirt than expected. Seeing this he covered his eyes expecting the dirt, but she changed the element at the last moment splashing him in the face with water.


    He lowered his arm just enough in time to see the second hand, charged with electricity touching the water that shocked up through the wet surface to him. The lightning hit hard and stiffened his muscles up while she gained a leap back between them.


    He charged, bounding forward and lunged at her with an upward momentum which she ducked down out of his directory, as expected, even when she tried to slash from beneath. The rotation he had gave enough reach to grab the woman by one of the wings on her back, twisting it with him causing her to yelp and give up her position to follow through with the grab.


    Landing on the ground he still refused to let go, pulling her by the wing around him with a side-step before planting his foot between the feathered limbs so she stumbled forward. The wings flapped while balancing herself, she reached down for another handful of the earth, just out of his sight.


    With a quick rotation she sprayed the dirt, burning it into an inferno that he sliced through with both daggers. He couldn¡¯t see through the heat and light to notice that he had just cleared a way through her own fire for his training partner to lunge through, sword ready while his knives were just too far apart.


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    As they hit the ground, his arms pinned under her knees, he let out a loud groan in pain, face twisting in agony when she readied her sword. Seeing his pain, she hesitated, not realizing that it was feigned. She hesitated enough that Rannith¡¯s tail was able to reach up behind her and twist her wings making her lose her posture once again. Dropping his knives, his hands slipped out and grabbed her wrists to twist the sword out of her hands while she was pushed onto her side.


    He had her pinned, arms crossed from the push and pull maneuver, one wing still in control while he pointed her own sword back down to her. ¡°So I take it, no discount then?¡± she laughed as he stood up, dropping the sword and holding out a hand to help her up, after all the duel had finished. ¡°Your back is your most vulnerable spot, more so than most people. You shouldn¡¯t let anyone near enough to notice it.¡±


    She took his hand to get up but he slid his hand out of her grasp as soon as they both were back on their feet. She huffed, waiting for him to actually turn to talk to her but he only picked up his knives and dusted them off, sheathing them one after the other to which she only sighed and did the same. ¡°Anything else?¡± she let the hand guard clack into place against the scabbard and turned to see he¡¯s still caught up in his own little world, the same routine he always had after training sessions.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t worry about if your enemy gets hurt or not. There¡¯s healing stations, doctors and saints on standby for a reason. Sometimes opponents might feign a landing blow or injury to throw you off your guard. Persist until the combat is completely finished.¡± he said more scolding. It¡¯s one of the most basic advices given that, at their level, they should both have ingrained in themselves by now. ¡°Well of course I know that.¡± She approached, hands on her hips ¡°that has never been a problem.¡± ¡°Well it was today.¡± he continued the scolding.


    ¡°Well today is different.¡± She retorted with indignation but that only seemed to leave him more clueless. ¡°Because of the 6th training session?¡± he asked finally turning around facing her. ¡°Nope!¡± she said with a widening grin, finally getting him to talk face to face. ¡°Because I¡¯m putting a team together for the tournaments and I want you to be on it.¡± He hesitated for a moment considering it. She reached out her hand and he stared at it for a moment before saying ¡°We both have such a long way to go before we¡¯re ready for any official competition¡­.¡± He hesitantly reached for her hand but it was enough confirmation for her to reach further and clasp their hands in a firm grip. ¡°Then we¡¯ll work on it together. As a team.¡±


    He smiled at that. Faintly but a smile for the first time in a very, very long time. ¡°As a team,¡± he whispered, enjoying the way it felt to say and what it meant. It meant together, and not alone.


    -


    Just as he predicted, they truly did need a lot of work, but together they put in the hard work. A team of 2 turned into a team of 3, then 4, and after more time finally a full team of 6.


    They trained countless hours, worked on formations, tactics, and studied peers, pros and even new unheard of maneuvers new trainees were trying. Their winged team captain was usually the one calling the shots, and while she was smart, attentive and charismatic, Rannith had the eye and the mind that brought the strategy to their team.


    In time they became the well oiled machine they trained and focused to be. Working their way up tier after tier on leaderboards and growing their own renown. In this time Rannith had finally learned what it was like to have those by your side, to not be alone and what it felt like to actually look forward to a new day. It¡¯s because of this new found sliver of happiness that he would have never expected the offer their captain would be presented with. Not just any offer, but one she couldn¡¯t refuse; one that would break the dream they had built together.

 The Twisted Vines Bloomed Pt. 5

    The final Tier in the tournaments is a glass ceiling that many rising stars collide with before their descent. Rannith¡¯s Team Captain knew that all too well and it has been an uphill battle she¡¯s faced alone. Many sponsors haven¡¯t given her or their team the time of day except one sponsor. It was the only sponsor that would meet with her, so she needed to take the opportunity that presented itself.


    No one else was present for their meeting. It was long and tense and regardless how hospitable he had seemed, there was nothing welcoming about their talk. He had been honest that the terms he presented were probably not going to be terms that she liked. He knew he was the only sponsor that would help them reach the final tier, so he was willing to negotiate the terms, to make their contract more comfortable. So negotiate they did, for the next 9 hours.


    They negotiated in a small, dark smokey cigar bar about the terms of his deal that by the time they both got to walk away, the bottom line of what they wanted in the end was achieved.


    ¡°No deal is without its costs and nothing in life is free.¡± That¡¯s what Rannith had told her when she announced to the team that she might have found a sponsor willing to take them to the next level only a few days prior. Now that the deal had been signed, she knew exactly what he had meant by his cryptic warning. Now that their dream was so close to coming to an end, she was left with more questions than answers about her beloved right-hand man. What had he gone through to not just be wary but almost expect that such a negotiation would turn so cruel? What did he see or know that she didn¡¯t? Why hadn¡¯t she spent more time understanding him, more than just the concrete wall he lets everyone see?


    Regret was the biggest reward in the negotiations that happened that day, taking over any kind of thoughts. Now that they will be moving up into the final ranks and it would fall onto her shoulders to tell her second in command, her wingman and best friend, the most devastating news.


    -


    The next training day came. Their team captain had spent all of that time leading up to it trying to figure out what was the right thing to say or how to say it, when to say it and what she should do until her contract with their sponsor expires.


    She thought she had all the words on what to say and what to do figured out until Rannith did show up. He was late this day for some reason, he hadn¡¯t sent any text explaining ahead of time or what the cause might have been. There was no indication if his day started out right or if he was in a good mood, he was simply his consistent self.


    Not in front of the rest of the team. She knew right away that it would be the worst possibility and met him at the entrance instead.


    ¡°Hey, Rannith, can I talk to you for a minute?¡± she rushed over to his side and he waited for her. She choked on her words, standing face to face with him. He trusted her, she knew that, and here it was that she needed to break that trust. There was no prepared speech, no flowery words to hide any details, no beating around the bush; she confessed everything. Confessed how the meeting was set up to where it took place, how long it had gone and what were the damning terms she regretfully signed. She poured out her apologies and her regrets, her hesitations and possible remedies but after a certain point, none of that seemed to go through to him. That concrete wall he had built up shattered the more she tried to explain, and she could see everything he was in those red eyes: the pain, the betrayal of all the experiences in his life he had gone through¡ªones she had never considered until this deal.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡± he calmly, quietly, interrupted her. ¡°You don¡¯t need to explain anything more. Have a good training session.¡± He finished. His captain tried to reach out to stop him but he just pushed her hand away while he turned to leave. There was no reason to try and stop him, not anymore, not any longer. Despite her fears, many circumstances had led to that being the last time either of them would talk to each other for the next several years.


    -


    If not in teams, solo fights was all Rannith had left. They weren¡¯t as worth it as finding a team but they helped pass the time and the income. He continued to train and teach where he could but as ¡°A former high tier champion¡± his new reputation did him no service to help his fragile situation.


    -


    This country is known for the tournaments but the biggest profit is those who finance, that¡¯s why any team would need a sponsor. While the one Rannith¡¯s former team had gotten a sponsor to bring up their ranks, there¡¯s always the big spenders, the wolves of wall street kind, the Luxe class investors. Alexander Laveau is one such person.


    Mr. Laveau is the owner of one of the top 3 investment banks and venue with which people come to bet on potential winners of competitions. As the CEO of Dylidae Investments, it was rare for him to contribute any kind of coinage in a direction but it''s not something he wasn¡¯t unfamiliar with. He knows the name of the game rather thoroughly from his own merits and he wouldn''t want to risk being pulled down for possible suspiciouns of favoritism. So he usually didn''t pay any interest into the champions and would have continued to do so if it wasn¡¯t for the fact that he has grown bored with life as of late.


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    One of his old time business partners had recommended that he might find a new, later in life spark again if he tried taking on a champion to sponsor or few. Not in any means to damage Mr. Laveau¡¯s reputation but to take advantage of the fact not many know the face that¡¯s connected to his name. He¡¯s not one to act too rashly so he decided to take his time, look into the possible candidates, and do a little bit of personal research into each and every one of them. A remarkable string of coincidences was the only thing that drew his attention to the once lowly noble, now champion, trainer, and competitor.


    Some time later Rannith was having a pretty bad day. He hadn''t won a single match, the more time went on, it was to be expected, but it didn¡¯t make this day¡¯s lose streak any better.


    After showering, he had just barely started dressing himself when he heard the step-click of a men''s dress shoe and metal prosthetic on the marble floors. Quickly pulling on his pants, he called out to the unfamiliar footsteps ¡°You know, this area isn¡¯t open to the public right?¡±


    There was no answer as the steps came closer. Shirt be damned, he grabbed a knife and quickly concealed it just out of sight but not in the usual places; just in case they knew his usual tricks from the arena. He moved without a sound next to the doorway, waiting for them to come within range.


    The moment he saw the shoulder of a refined dress shirt, he wrapped his arm around the doorframe and pressed the knife to the stranger''s neck, pulling them against the other side of the wall. ¡°There¡¯s security by every door of this building and you shouldn¡¯t be here. Give me one reason that you wouldn¡¯t be harmed in self defence?¡± he asked, hostile and cold but ready to follow through with his promise. ¡°And why shouldn¡¯t I be allowed in my own stadium?¡± the man said with a sly grin.


    The knife left his neck just as quickly as it was placed. Mr. Laveau let out a deep sounding chuckle and stepped away from the wall to turn the corner and have their formal introductions face to face. ¡°You work for Dylidae Investments?¡± Rannith asked, taking a step back and putting the knife away but keeping an eye on the person who moved in the otherwise empty locker room.


    The man¡¯s right leg ended as a prosthetic, just as Rannith had guessed. His stature was large, posture relaxed, but even still there was a defined firmness to his build that gave out the information that this person stayed in very good shape underneath a concealing layer of body fat. Despite the formal clothes, his stance stayed wider than the average person¡¯s and his elbows slightly turned out a bit. While he had some very small scars, hardly noticeable, this made it clear for Rannith that if he had to fight the man before him, it must certainly never get to the point they where they would fight hand to hand; so he kept his distance.


    ¡°I don¡¯t work for Dylidae Investments.¡± he said with a coy sneer. ¡°I own Dylidae Investments.¡± Rannith didn¡¯t give him the groveling courtesy most people did when getting to know his corporate position, he liked that about the kid. He assumed it might have something to do with his foreign roots and the conniving family he had been initially born to.


    ¡°And what brings you here? Benefactor?¡± the champion asked, disguising the weariness he had and grabbed for his shirt quickly, choosing modesty over manners.


    ¡°I came with an offer. See, I heard you¡¯re looking for a sponsor and I¡¯ve been rather bored as of late, feeling a little generous even. I¡¯m willing to cut you a deal.¡± He gestured leisurely in no rush what-so-ever, contrast to the fighter who found attending to other business a growing urgency.


    ¡°Whoever told you I¡¯m looking for a sponsor is lying to you. I am doing no such thing.¡± ¡°But you need one, no? What champion in the ring doesn¡¯t look for someone who can help move them along?¡± Mr. Laveau pried, reading the boy as Rannith returned in kind.


    Alexander wasn¡¯t leaving, confident in that, and confident that neither was Rannith as they both took note that the elder of the two still blocked the only exit that wouldn¡¯t result in Rannith getting himself arrested.


    ¡°Maybe a champion who is looking to simply make ends meet by the end of the day so they can pay their bills by tomorrow.¡± Rannith said, pulling his duffle bag across his body while taking one step to the side. The tip of the remaining foot the man had followed. ¡°If that¡¯s all you need then why don¡¯t you join a fight club? I¡¯m sure the costs would pay much more handsomely if you go to the right places. A lot of things would certainly cost less as well.¡± he prodded.


    ¡°Maybe I thought about it, maybe I already am. What would you know?¡± he retorted, his tail whipped back and forth in impatience, making the tycoon laugh. ¡°I would certainly know that you haven¡¯t thus far even considered it. Not by the way you have your life together. But I¡¯ll tell you what is what, kid.¡± He dropped his jovial attitude for a more serious business talk. ¡°You¡¯ve got your entire life balanced on a very fine line that is bound to fall apart in time. I would say give it a month, more or less. I know you¡¯re smart enough to realize that. I¡¯m offering to be your sponsor, not just in the championships. To hell with the championships if that¡¯s what you so please. I¡¯m offering to be your sponsor through the Adventurer¡¯s guild. Your life will start getting very hard very quickly and I¡¯m offering you a deal that you can ask me for anything as long as you perform well with some tasks I give you. You don¡¯t need to worry about any other details. The only question required is ''what is it you want or need?''. I''ll give anything you need and I won¡¯t question it. You can have your own of anything; blackjack, hookers and all if you want. I won¡¯t ask much of you but only if you''re willing."


    Mr. Laveau held out his hand, warmly this time and sympathetically. Rannith knew that his living situation was in a fragile spot, he couldn¡¯t lie to himself about that, but what was to entail after agreeing to a sponsorship through the adventurer¡¯s guild? The possibility of larger risks grew exponentially that made having an answer in this moment more difficult.


    ¡°It¡¯s a shame what happened to your old team.¡± Alexander spoke softly, breaking Rannith out of his own thoughts. ¡°I know what it¡¯s like to get left behind by your old team. My old teammates left me behind a long time ago. While it was assumed that things were left on moderate terms, things changed now. They and their son are trying to twist my business behind my back. I found interest in wanting to sponsor you cause somewhere in my tired soul I was hoping maybe you could understand that much, you don¡¯t have to relate to it or sob any crocodile tears for me. Understanding is all I ask for.¡±


    His eyes stayed low, staring as if there was a far distance to gaze upon past the stone floors. Rannith could understand, maybe he couldn¡¯t empathize and relate to the length and complexity of such a betrayal or the cruelty in his old teammate¡¯s turning on him, but that was never not a possibility that could happen. There was truth in those words, a truth he wanted to trust, maybe needed it even.


    Understanding what he felt in the moment or why didn¡¯t matter after that point. Rannith¡¯s hand was already stretched out and reached Mr. Laveau¡¯s as they came to an agreement, an understanding, that they would never need to pass the paper thin surface of their contract. It felt like the best choice for the both of them.

 The Twisted Vines Bloomed Pt. 6

    Mr. Laveau had been right about a great deal of many things but not everything. Due to each of their reputations though, they left it best to not let it become too public about their contractual connection with each other.


    Not long after they had made their contract, Rannith''s landlord had spiked the rent with the fluctuating market for the whole building that made staying become unaffordable. Many places in the area had also changed their rental prices that left no place affordable and close enough to keep up with the work schedule that had been sustaining him.


    Less and less bets went in favor of Rannith and so did income. Bigger and better names became more prevalent in training new champions as well as experienced. He slowly began fading from people''s mind, all the while, Mr. Laveau had been mostly quiet. Alexander said he had a lot of business to attend, and without having any real reason to doubt that, Rannith waited to hear word from his sponsor.


    When Mr. Laveau broke his silence, the first thing Rannith was in need of was a place to stay; without the bat of an eye, Laveau easily provided. Not only did he provide a place to stay but he informed the young champion that it was about time he met his other business partners they would be working with, or working closely to, in their partnership. Meeting after meeting did time draw near to meet Mr. Laveau''s old teammate and their sphere of influence.


    The only warning he was given was that the son had formed a party for reasons to directly undermine Mr laveau''s business and his connections. One of the teammates of the son''s was someone quite unique more than others, as she is not only their teammate, but one of the rare demigods.


    Rannith didn''t know what to expect, never having met a demigod before, but the context in his meeting this demigod seemed as though it might not go by pleasantly. Alexander informed him that as a demigod she was crude, condescending, and looked down the nose at everybody despite her stature. So that is what he expected on their first meeting. The meeting was so much worse but Rannith never would have thought, that in time, to find that the first thing Alexander was wrong about, would be so skewed.


    That day started out with being introduced to a more casual group of personal friends of Mr laveau''s. A group of friends who he could confide in and trusted. They had decided to meet at a different drinking spot than they usually went to; a bar that his former teammate owned and the first of multiple establishments that competed with Alexander.


    The first person he got an impression of was the son. His posture was lazy and his clothes were neither neatly kept or presentable. His manner of speaking was very accentuated by gestures most common used by support casters as well as bartenders. Has mannerisms seemed too lazy though as if he''s never done any real hard work himself; like the type of person that leaves any kind of real work or effort to other people.


    Then there was the demi-god Pumpkin. Preposter was stiff and started, knees always bent just enough and even through her nervous outward demeanor there was still a firmness about her. She doesn''t gesture her arms as much as the son but she does always keep her elbows in close to her frame, one hand never leaving too far from the waste. A sword wielder, possibly one that needs more finesse than a heavy blade.


    Their introduction on the other hand confirmed and dispelled some prejudice he had, there was only one last party member with them at this point. While Rannith was surprised at first that the father remained hands-free disposition of his son''s actions, going as far as to select someone else as the benefactor, there was some very clear and subtle meddling that was taking place from the father''s side.


    The son, in his own detestable way, only introduced himself in a flirtatious manner, which Rannith found to be deplorable at best. By the time the Demigod tried introducing herself, he had already become disinterested to notice anything else after noting each of their fighting styles.


    -


    Later, that very same night, was when he noticed the demigod. Alexander had shown and checked Rannith in to where he would be staying for their time in the port city. A decently large suite with a tall windows facing the beach shores. After Mr. Laveau left, some time later Rannith received a knock on the door.


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    Pumpkin, the demigod, said she wanted to talk about something. Yet, despite insisting that there was something to talk about, she seemed to fail at explaining anything or ask this magic question she seemed to have had. She was alone, no weapon in sight and explained that she came alone without telling anyone.


    She never got to all the questions she tried asking which only made the interaction more confusing. Alexander mentioned that she was sharp, manipulative and always had some kind of trick up her sleeve, but this was almost hard to watch. It was embarrassing, not for him but for her. She stuttered and stammered a lot, she almost seemed to shrink out of her usual confident and readied posture and gestured a little more erratically as if that would distract him from how pathetically helpless she looked in the moment.


    He decided to send her on her way, so she didn''t have any more metaphorical rope to hang herself with. The only question she had managed to ask him was how much could he trust in Mr. Laveau, which he promptly told her was none of her business. When she left, she left him with more questions of his own, not just about what kind of plan did she want to form to further undermine his sponsor, but why was their conversation so painfully awkward?


    -


    Rannith''s and Alexander Laveau''s relationship wasn''t built on trust, but merely contract. Alexander would provide all accommodations well Rannith performs the tasks and missions he was given; but he did start questioning.


    Questioned a lot of things in the months to come. He questioned the Integrity of Laveau''s business, the moral obligations or lack of that the businessman had, and what was to become of all of the menial tasks that began escalating until it brough him back to his hometown.


    He grew suspicious when Alexander was not surprised when Rannith mentioned that he''s been to Montranoe before, almost too comfortable with dismissing his concerns. Laveau never slowed down or stopped to explain anything before setting off to executing unknown plans. Even while the demigod''s team grew, stacking against him, Alexander still refused to explain.


    There were some good things that came out of all the meetings Alexander presented him to, the best of which was the General of the first army, Benedict Lupisulvian. He was a firm man, very stuck to the rules and his duty but patient, fair, and wise.


    They became close, unknowingly planned for by Alexander, but it was what both the General and Rannith needed. He was the father figure Rannith never had, offering guidance without imposing his values. Despite the malicious intensions of the one that introduced them, their connection was genuine and sincere.


    The General''s life ended too quickly. Thanks to the foolishness, stupidity, selfishness, and conceit of the ex-teammate''s son, the General died. Most damning information he learned from later was that General was the son''s own biological grandfather that he not just abandoned but now killed. It was the first time in Rannith''s life that he had ever felt such a rageful sense of loathing to any one person.


    Trial by combat was his chosen method. Before an audience of thousands, the General, frail and chronically ill, was forced back into his battle armor to face a younger, stronger opponent as his legally appointed duelist in a trial by combat. The sight was agonizing, and the strain proved too much¡ªpushing the elder warrior to his final moments.


    Rannith stayed by the General''s side, through the chaos and the rush of doctors, he would not let go. He listened to every laboring breath, knowing that any moment, any of those breathes could be the last.


    4 hours did the General stay like that, struggling to fight just to stay alive for a little longer, just to give his heir a final reassurance about his own fading life and the life Rannith will have living on.


    ¡°When the morning comes, I will probably no longer be here. We all know that there will be a day that everyone gets to move on to our next life; it was something I felt ready for, for so long, until I met you. Well now, I wish I could stay just a little bit longer.


    I know that''s an ask two great to grant for someone like me. It''s just that there are so many things I have yet to teach you and so many more that I want to. Like no matter how dark life may be, the sun is always just on the other side of the clouds, burning bright and eternal. So be patient and be wise. Don''t close off your heart from the world, think with your mind, and open your eyes. You won''t always find the answers for everything, the easiest answers are almost always wrong, and trust your instincts when you feel something isn''t right. Vontor gave you a great gift of insight, use it and fight for what you believe in."

 The Twisted Vines Bloomed Pt. 7

    Regret wasn¡¯t something Rannith was at all familiar with. He believed that he did all that he felt to do but the more he sat with his own loss, the more he felt. Why hasn¡¯t he ever just stood up to his parents when he¡¯s already stood up for his sister against everyone else? Why hadn¡¯t he just left sooner? Why didn¡¯t he stand up for himself when he lost his own home, teammates, job, second home and so much more? Where were his answers when he wanted them? Why did everything happen the way it did in the end, up until the General¡¯s final hours; his own adoptive father''s.


    He grieved the General¡¯s loss for hours. He couldn''t count how many that went by, everything was all a blur. He could hardly pick himself up off the floor, when his phone turned on. There was a message. It was the only thing that illuminated the room since the doctors and staff closed the curtains.


    There was a message from that demigod girl.


    What was it that she wanted?


    The message said help.


    What was it that she needed help with? Why ask him?


    He didn¡¯t remember typing any of the messages that were sent from him, but watched as his hands moved as if they had a mind of their own.


    Mr. Laveau wasn¡¯t responding to anything.


    She said he was dead.


    Did he die? How long has he been sitting in this dark room? What was going on outside of this room? The house? The world could be burning down and he wouldn¡¯t know the difference.


    Guenevere was hardly replying and it seems incoherent. Maybe something is wrong.


    The demigod asked for help again.


    She had questions too, just like him.


    When they first met, she asked questions. Maybe she still has questions. Did she find answers? She said she was in danger.


    She¡¯s scared.


    So was Kahlia.


    Kahlia was always scared of everything, and it had to be him to be there for her.


    But Kahlia never reached out to him. Here was the demigod, Pumpkin. Was that her name? Pumpkin was reaching out. Pumpkin had questions that she¡¯s done nothing but look for answers and she needed help. She was scared.


    Before he could realize it, he had set out. The first decision he made as the new Lord Lupisulvian.


    -


    Reaching the demigod, it was hell. The teleportation had barely set in before his senses were hit with the overwhelming sensations of a blasting cold fighting against a burning inferno, carrying the toxic fumes of machinery exhaust.


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    Rannith hardly had a moment to assess the full situation but it was enough for him to understand the needed information. A coordinated group with weapons, chains, nets, binding enchantments and a box. At best, this was a kidnapping; at worst, an assassination.


    Unlike his previous encounter with hitmen, he was now trained, well-experienced, and prepared to handle the crisis in the safest way possible. His actions were quick and precise. Blind and stun the nearest assailants who unleashed a torrent of attacks on Pumpkin, then incapacitate them while they were disoriented. For those still outside the gaping hole blasted into the castle''s front, they had to be dealt with as swiftly as possible so all focus could be placed entirely on the iron golem. The hulking construct trudged through the debris, its presence formidable as it melted ice and steel alike with every step.


    He made quick work of those that made it the furthest inside. While Pumpkin wasn¡¯t alone, they were easily outnumbered. Guenevere had thankfully arrived as well, raining molten astral rocks down onto the already damaged sovereign residence for a much needed advantage.


    The adrenaline coursing through his veins woke him from his grief in the heat of battle before it came crashing back down after victory. What was he doing there? Why was he helping someone who he was told not to trust? Why was Guenevere? He hadn¡¯t worked with her for long, but they had grown close, connected through their mutual association with Alexander; his business partner and a temporary teammate for Rannith.


    All those questions weren¡¯t going to be answered any time soon but he wanted answers. What happened to Alexander and why was he now dead?


    Before he could leave, Pumpkin gave him all answers; the ones he needed and ones to questions he didn''t know he had. Vivian Survost, Tsaritsa of Iglaceas, shared with him each and every memory Pumpkin had, what she¡¯s seen, what she¡¯s heard and all she¡¯s experienced. It all flowed into him all at once in a much more disorientating experience than he expected.


    -


    With so many new thoughts to sort through, his fleeing from the demigod was short lived.


    Rannith followed Guenevere back to her own base of operations to pick through everything he now was granted to coherently know as if it were his own memories. But he also did have questions of his own for all the new information too. Guenevere answered most of the questions but after a certain point, she kicked him out. Not to send him away but to send him back to the one he had now non-stop questions about, telling him ¡°If you have questions about someone in particular, specifically So Many questions, go ask them yourself.¡±


    And that¡¯s exactly where Guenevere had left him. Not just to his own devices but to Pumpkin¡¯s as well.


    The phoenix didn¡¯t neglect to give him some advice but there seemed to be something more terrifying about talking to the woman who he knew everything about now, than facing a palace full of assassins and hitmen. He now knew how she saw himself, how for so long she¡¯s wanted to reach out to him and how her feelings pined for him at the distance Alexander had set.


    It was awkward at first, but all they needed was time. They both did. And in time they learned together. They learned to explore the feelings that kindled between them-not just from passion but from trust and understanding for all they went through, all they survived, and how they healed.


    Time was their blessing, like the twisting thorns that marked his skin, up his hands and to his arms; the vines around his heart began to blossom. Love is what he had found with her the more time they spent together, the more they got to learn, explore and experience life.


    The General had always been a guiding figure in his life, even after he was gone. Rannith continued to learn from the footsteps he left behind in his diary. Though the General could no longer be there for him, on the day of the most important decision of Rannith¡¯s life, he felt his presence. The assurance Rannith had came from the elder¡¯s retelling of his experiences¡ªhow he fell in love and recognized what love truly is when it reaches its most genuine and authentic state.


    Rannith had no regret and knew in full confidence when he got down on one knee before Pumpkin. This is the woman whom he had fallen in love with, the one who brings him happiness in his every day that has never been there before. She is his confidence, his sanctuary and the most precious thing in his life. So there was no doubt, joy was all he could feel when she said yes.

 The Twisted Vines Bloomed Pt. 8 (Final)

    ¡°They of course lived a nice and long life as Lord and Lady Lupisulvian. They got married, had kids but it would be inevitable that he will grow old much sooner than she will and he will pass. She will still be here, somewhere. Maybe wandering this country or some far distant one. Only time will tell.¡±


    The auditorium was dreadfully quiet as the woman at the podium finished her very long one-sided discussion to the several hundreds of students surrounding the stage.


    Someone¡¯s pencil dropped, breaking the silence louder than a whale crashing back into the watery depths of the ocean. One small, young but brave child raised their hand which grabbed the attention of the presenter¡¯s red eyes. ¡°Yes! The little one near the back, you have a question?¡±


    ¡°Umm, my lady..¡± The child stood up politely with a small bow and fidgeting with the skirt of her dress. ¡°Just go ahead and call me Irene.¡± the woman smiled warmly. ¡°Miss Irene¡­ What about after they got married? Did they live happily ever after? Like the one in the fairytales we hear about?¡±


    Irene let out a genuine laugh but kept herself composed enough to not lose herself. ¡°Oh of course not. But what happens after is a Much longer story that I simply don¡¯t have enough time to tell you ALLL about that now.¡±


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    ¡°My Lady, the headmaster will be here any minute now. I would suggest you make your leave soon. The staff has run out of reasons to delay her any longer.¡± One of the teachers of the academy said as they stepped through the auditorium doors. ¡°Well and that is where I will wrap up this open discussion and little talk about noble history. If there¡¯s no more questions that is.¡±


    Irene quickly gathered up the notecards she had made for herself while the students stood respectfully before making her way out. One of the children, a little punk of sorts, spoke up and called out at her as she made her leave; neither standing in respect or looking at her, past his feet up on the table. ¡°So then what about you lady? Doesn¡¯t that make you some kind of demigod or something too?¡±


    She stopped only briefly to answer his question ¡°No. That doesn¡¯t make me any more special than any of you here. Some of my siblings have inherited my mother¡¯s divine gifts but in the end, she will still out live every single one of us in this room¡±. The troubled child didn¡¯t have any more comments as she stepped to the doors that opened toward her.


    ¡°Ah, Headmaster Kahlia, what a coincidence seeing you here¡­¡± Irene trailed off while the headmaster looked over the young Lady of the Lupisulvian house. ¡°This is my academy. What do you think you¡¯re doing here?¡± she asked suspiciously but Irene never gave her aunt any answers, slipping past and out the door. ¡°Well what do you know, it¡¯s time to¡­¡± she paused to look at her wrist ¡°It¡¯s time for me to go get a watch.¡± she called while hurrying down the hall.

 Welcome to the Circus (Pt. 1 of 2)

    Large crowds of people can be seen lining up through the streets in large masses standing shoulder to shoulder just to get the best view of the grand opening. From somewhere out of sight, trumpets begin to sound triumphantly to draw in the crowd¡¯s attention to the stage that raised up high with a magical flare.


    ¡°Ladies, gentlemen, boys and girls.¡± Frostine said with a bravado that lacked a small bit of confidence as her nervousness started to show through for a bit. ¡°Welcome one and all to not just The Grand Elysium Carnival but our home as well; one that''s been built with love, hope, and dreams. Here everyone is welcome and all is considered family. Tonight¡¯s performance, I would like to introduce to you some of that family and some of my closest friends.¡±


    With a small curtsey, the grand fanfare that began at the beginning turned into music that was a lot more fun and energetic.


    <h2>The Baker</h2>


    Rushing up onto the platform where she stood will be 12 other people wearing aprons and what looked to be a somewhat theatrical cooking attire, Light pastels accented with lace, frills and white pin stripes. Turning to them, Frostine would seem to say a quick few words to them before they split in two different directions.


    She gave the scepter in her hand a quick twirl before tapping her hat, the showman attire trickling down into a more familiar candy aesthetic. Filling up with excitement, she would race forward towards the edge of the platform and launch herself off with her arms spread.


    There were no safety nets for where she was falling, no person to catch her, just the candy painted stonework on the many streets below. You can almost hear the hearts pounding in the ears of many as everyone watched on as she took the plunge for hundreds of feet.


    The crowds stirred as she was just about to hit the pavement when she completely vanished.


    Just as quickly did she disappear did she reappear on the complete other side of the masses that stood watching on bated breaths. Her arms were still outstretched wide, same as before, then closing them in together and lifting them above her head. Her hooves just barely touched at the side of the building at the climax of momentum, using a last step for the final push, leaping up, her hand outstretched towards the top of the building she strived for.


    Someone¡¯s hand clasped onto hers, one of the people from the start, had a firm grasp that kept them both in a moment of suspense that was only broken as Frostine stood on the wall, and pulled him over the edge as well.


    Together they fell, using each other to increase their momentum, turning through the air before she launched forward, and disappeared again, leaving the baker on their own. When he fell half the height of the building, Frostine would reappear from the wall, pulling with her from the edge a trampoline that snapped into place and redirected both the performer¡¯s direction.


    The crowds in the streets watched in excitement and awe as thus far, no magic or spell had been cast, leaving them in wonder, following the direction of performance lights to help guide their attention as where to look next and what to be excited for. As the performers traveled back and forth between buildings, propelled by trampolines and the trust they have in their teammates.


    Through the demonstration, the bakers passed different things between them, some large, some small and some that left a trail behind emphasizing the paths they took and the ones that crossed. It would be hard to see what it was from any kind of distance, but it wasn¡¯t hard to guess either; especially when it was all coming together.


    Nearing the end of their show, the bakers came together, compiling what they had into a box where the last baker sprinkled a fiery powder over the metal container. With a quick blast of fire, the casing igniting for only a moment before Frostine pulled out the pan, spinning it on one finger as it quickly cooled off and flattened her palm when it cooled enough. With the dish in one hand she lifted it up before presenting it forward in a half curtsey and half bow with the other bakers presenting a fully made strawberry shortcake that had been mere ingredients before the show.


    With the applause from the audience, Frostine with the rest will excitedly take their leave off the main stage, bustling around her but the fire they left behind still burned¡­


    <h2>The Mask Makers</h2>


    The fire burned and kept burning, almost as if it was a lapse in judgment to leave it unintended as it sizzled and burned. It flickered for a moment, fading out before with the rip of an electric guitar the flame shot up in a blazing inferno, swirling and roaring. Then with the second rip of the guitar, two columns roared into the sky, parallel of the crowds as they the crowds let out a cheer when through the flames a solo acrobatic leapt out and through.


    Running rooftop to rooftop, the parkour demonstrated was something unrivaled as not only were the distances great but also did their speed increase going faster and faster till they hardly be tracked by the untrained eye.


    They raced across the rooftops in leaps and bounds, doubling over themselves and occasionally grabbing on to things, that were not visible to the untrained eye, for leverage. They used these to change their trajectory and direction that led the audience¡¯s attention as a blur of color amongst the apparatuses till a second figure joined the performance.


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    A male with platinum white hair slicked back, dull forest green eyes and tucked under their arm was a rifle with a long scope. He tapped the heel of his foot into the muzzle, swinging the gun around onto his back with a crossbody strap and fastened it in place there.


    With one large and slow step, he was seemingly walking on air at that point. One step after another in a casual manner, not one foot in front if the other but as though there had always been ground before him until there wasn''t. Without warning his next step left him in a freefall. In his descent his movements were slow, graceful but tense raising one arm just enough until his arm snapped, and he changed direction in an arch. The blur of the other individual raced at the one in freefall, dashing back and forth till he no longer moved, suspended and center.


    Pulling off the gun he would fix the gun into position, taking aim and firing a shot. The flash of a person narrowly dodged the fire round leaving a suspended smoldering flame in the wake of his shots. One after the other in this rotation till the flames crept and spread, any sign of movement from the racing individual growing harder to pick out. As the flames traced along unseen tracks that mingled and entwined till they met together to burn in full. These collected flames raced directly down to on a path to where they remained suspended. He grabbed hold of the path between himself and the fire as it traced down to his lower back and burst out in roaring as they took the shape of two large wings of inferno that pulled the fire closer. Closer the flames roared bright and hot till they incinerated the harness that suspended him and let him fall out of sight and into the dark.


    (Strawberry shortcake delivered)


    <h2>The Keeper</h2>


    His wings stretched up high as he dropped into the dark but the flaming dome persisted. Before the wings faded they flickered back to life when the tips touched and reshaped into a life of their own. Hollow eye sockets with flaming irises burn inside the flaming equine skull. Rearing back it''s head the horse skull let out a loud dying scream as it erupts in a fireball. As the fireball flares, the scream continues to echo, reeling, till the changing tone was indistinguishable of the roaring motorcycle engine taking off in the ever closing net of burning fire. On the bike rode the woman with short flaming hair that mixed with the hellish inferno.


    The closer the net became the tighter the ride became, letting herself fall off the bike as it defied gravity as one hand never left the handlebars, revving faster, letting the momentum pull her through, whipped back around and upright. Straddling the bike back into full control as the walls closing in became too much till she seemingly disappeared.


    The fireball burned out leaving nothing behind but smoldering smoke in the wind. The bike screamed out it¡¯s deathly bale as a rapid fire of gunfire sounded around and all the hooded figures in masks, The Huntsmen, volleyed flaming rounds as the woman on the bike raced forward, the wheels of the bike finding traction on those whisps building up the embers, a trail of fire following, racing after her, flickering from her hair, and down the red cloak that fanned and stretched out behind her. In the flames of her wake you can see figures, skeletons reaching out burning hands from the treads while the licks of flame shaped into hundreds of hounds, skeletal horses and ghost rides clamoring, grasping and clawing at the bike before they could fizzle out.


    A voice echoed out over the clouds, foreign from acts that have presented so far, maybe not as foreign to one of the party members, but not saying anything other than letting their loud sounding laugh echo out.


    The pitch of the whinnying and roaring engine took a turn down as flames shot from the nose of the horse skull shaped blazing a path of its own, pulling back and turning up to the main platform like the top of a ramp, lurching the bike into a much more easier feat of a simple flip before landing firm and stationary, the smoke, finally, burning out.


    <h2>The Weaver</h2>


    The smoke tethered up into the sky, never fading and growing in strength and amount as it built and swirled. Thunder and lightning cracked through the sky as the building Columbus clouds built up, blacking out the evening skies, relying on the crackling light for the only arial illumination. With a moment of suspense lightning cracked across the entire sky in a flash of blinding light and bursting away the excess clouded shape to reveal a large form of the thunderous body of Gennali.


    Lightning trickled through the air as stretching out his form and the majesty of his figure, stars slowly descended the sky, lighting up the world around into a regal glow. The lightning danced through the stars in constellations through the crowds that seemed to almost take their breathes away as many were just within reaching distance, even for each of you.


    Delicate stars that could fit the size of the palm landed in each of your outstretched hands or laps those who chose not to reach.


    The music traveled through the air as though it came from everywhere and nowhere at the same time, as he followed along in a traditionally rhythmic dance when the music paused. Gennali stretched out his arms wide in front of him while waiting for the right moment before his wrists flicked down in a quick snap motion.


    Gennali threw back his head laughing as you can see thousands of the people having just failed in protecting themselves from Gennali¡¯s command. Drawing their weapons, people, family members, adventurer¡¯s and experts of all kinds of fields drew their weapons in a synchronized movement. They turned to the person next to them in a strange manner most have not been accustomed to before but they all moved as though it was innate, something they already knew and couldn¡¯t resist the compelling force.


    From your vantage point above, you can see the intricate patterns in which the collective dance performance took place. Some select dancers, in costumes that complimented Gennali''s own, wove through, dancing their own choreography as the shapes seemed to develop around them moving through before meeting in the middle. Once reaching the center, they continued with a cat like grace but a lion¡¯s pride at the height of a crescendo, the music ends in a dramatic flourish, reaching their hands to the sky.


    Brushing back his long hair, looking to everyone in the V.I.P. balconies, Gennali will give a quick wink before the final lightning strike, strikes down in the center of his dancers and blinding everyone in the attendance. As your sigh begins to adjust back to the artificial dark, the stars that were left finished their slow fall from the sky but both he, and his dancers, were gone.

 Welcome to the Circus (Pt. 2 of 2)

    <h2>The Guardian</h2>


    In the pitch black, at the center stage, a large tree which was an entanglement of trees into one, was placed without anyone¡¯s notice or sound. Drums began to play while the tree is engulfed into a new kind of fire that burned green, silhouetting a figure in a Pegan-like ritual attire. A crown of antlers and bones adorning the top of the head while wrapped in robes topped with what looked to be thorned vines and torn cloth flowed with their movements.


    (Cifer - You can feel that this tree is alive. This tree is almost More than alive, thrumming with large sources of arcana flowing through it and resonating out and beyond but when the fire was ignited that immediately quickly began dissipating. Louder than the music and the drums screams of pain erupted as the flames too light from a voice too young.)


    The darkness seemed to almost warp and bend as something shot out from the flames and melded into the dark of the night, followed by another, the second of which had a wisping trail of the green flames like a dark comet.


    The shaman before the fire continued their song and dance, shaping the fire into people, animals, monsters and things in between as the simulated night seemed to tremble in the comet¡¯s wake. As the two rocketing beings collide, a large burst of the fire. The screeching sizzled out as the comet made its way though the fading green light, pathfinding it¡¯s way to the next one correlating in time and cadence of both the narrative and the song. One by one each of the flying targets were tracked down and burned away into the night. The flying figure lapped a ring of fire that burst away when they took off, doing dark.


    For most of the crowds, that comet seemed to have disappeared into the night as the main stage performance burned brighter and more dramatic with each thrust of the arm and sway of the crowned head.


    At your balcony, there wasn¡¯t warning as a shockwave of the blast hit the seating area where the groups of you sat but your party took the hardest brunt of force. The infrastructure groaned under the impact, although temporary, was still rather sturdy.


    Looking out before you was darker than before, the roaring green flames now no longer visible as a large silhouetted figure blocked your eyeline. Heavy metal clad over a heavy metal body stood in your view, wings plated in its metal scales and spread, chest heaving as a dark and twisting wood-like designed helm. The tactical high heels of the armor twisted and shaped into mock talons that you can see gripped onto the balcony¡¯s edge, holding the figure still while they stared down at your party.


    (pause for interaction- doesn¡¯t say much until helm is off)


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Seraphina yelps and leans back and away, but so does Guenevere as the flickering flames of their burning hair seemed to almost be drawn towards, pulled to the lantern in his his hands.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">In the balcony over where The Golden Girls sat, you¡¯ll here a audible gasp (from Toni) one of their voices shout-whispered ¡°Minthansi!?¡± and someone else quickly whisper-shouting back ¡°Ssshhh! Sit down! The performance isn¡¯t over yet and we¡¯re still recording.</li>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Maria and Toni then have a quick whispered discussion away from where the cameras are set up</li>


    </ul>


    </ul>


    (he doesn¡¯t say much until his helmet is taken off)


    Taking off his helmet, you¡¯ll see a very recognizable face. While they have their differences, Caine¡¯s eyes are more turquoise while this person¡¯s had a hint more of an icy blue. The straight silver locks of Caine¡¯s was curled just enough more noticeably on the man in armor looking through the party now. But other than those notes and Caine¡¯s lack of having wings or a tail, they truly could have been identical, from their make to the pattern the scales made up their body and flaked across their face and the faceted geometric shape of their horns. He seemed confused for a moment as the clicking of a doll winding up heard behind you.


    ¡°Beazuzu~¡± You hear the ringmaster¡¯s voice coo ¡°He is my personal guest. He¡¯ll be on the balcony a couple over~¡±


    The performer flushed, a bit embarrassed but placed a hand across his chest and gave a respectful but quick bow to the doll. ¡°Thank you Ringmaster¡± he said quick, only muttering ¡°Enjoy the performance¡± over his shoulder while quickly walking along banister to banister, reaching the one in the center where he stepped off and entered the seating room.


    (Pause for if anyone wants to say anything or do anything)


    After a long moment in the Ringleader''s personal guest balcony, there was another booming burst as the troupe member rocketed out, barely in time before the singer upon the stage reached the ending of her tale as he crashed down, the bonfire roaring up and encircling the dragon inside, thanks to the addition to the reaching branches of the new split tree while the fires burned out.


    <h2>The Prima Donna</h2>


    With the relaxing silence, the soft notes of stringed instruments such as violins and harps began to sooth through the air while the darkness began to fade. With the first notes escaping the lips of a woman who stood center stage, the light and area around seemed to almost shimmer. The dark and imposing clouds seemed to resign to the elements, their gentle tears caught the breaking light.


    Her slow descent down the stairs was held by the jeweled water drops that fell from the sky, forming in harmony with the notes and pace of her song. The translucent stairs reflected and refracted the golden light of the setting sun casting a kaleidoscope of colors and rainbows through the air evoking a sense of awe. Dressed in a flowing gown, like it was made of the moonlight itself, contrasted the sun, pronouncing her grace and commanding elegance in the song she poured her heart into.


    (Wisdom save for the strength of love for someone they feel, they also have the choice to fail the save too)


    With each note the staircase extended further, floating mid air and sometimes splashed into existence by faint shapes of two dancing swans weaving through the light and rain, followed by blooming flowers and shimmering doves. The stairs slowly failed to form further below but rather within the same place as the spiraling staircase began to rise back into the clouds, and so did the water. The rain fell upwards, rising into the sky with the steps and notes of the orchestra that, contributed to the melody her voice never drowned under but was only complimented by as her voice and talent carried this performance.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    As the song began to reach up, a luminous climax as the lowest stair, raised a decent way over the platform, the last golden rays of the sun pierced bright in harmony with the setting song. A figure in the familiar black mourning attire of the ringleader''s dolls stepped entered but was clearly neither her in height nor was doll-like in movement.


    The singer took one last leap of faith, the black figure reached up to take her hand in theirs, and gently guided her with a gentle twirl before setting her back down. The silhouette wrapped an arm around her waist, as she smiled back to them warmly, resting a hand on the chest before turning back to the audience.


    <h2>Grand Finale</h2>


    The two acrobats will also join the stage, spider carrying Valkyrie; Allone carrying Curdenway. Last but not least to join the stage, the winds came together and swirled in Gennali, behind her, Matthew who stayed behind poorly attempting to hide behind both the djinn and the staff but failing.


    With the crescendo of the music of the symphony turned into the fanfare, the Soprano spoke up, not in song but to finish the speech that Frostine had started in the beginning. ¡°Everyone here at the circus is family and we are all eager to meet each and every one of you while welcoming you all to our home. Enough words said, I would like to introduce you all to The Grand Elysium Carnival!¡± She smiled with the silhouette''s hand in hers, they in unison took a bow that the rest of the troupe followed.


    -


    For those with the sight to see past the material and into the arcane, you would see something truly supremely magical in the distance. Rising over the horizon stood up a massive projection of the Ringleader. One set of arms folded calmly in front of her torso as is she always stands while the next set of arms, slide upwards having one hand run its fingers through her hair, the other sliding up from her leg to her upper waist. The third and last set of arms first arch downwards before rounding out to above her head as a ballet performer is known for. As the last set of arms reach above her head, she turned her palms towards the sky, changing the nature of the skyline. In the darkest of nights, the way the night sky and the stars almost seep down into the atmosphere has been the natural order of any place, no matter where, but as the ringmaster¡¯s projection shaped and stood, hands raised, she pushed back the night sky. The sky shaped to resist, in the dark the shape of a large hand pressing back down against the projection, but it wasn''t enough and a little too late. Standing at full stature, a large boom rippled across not just the sky but reverberated through the world shaking the sky and ground.


    -


    The crowd had cheered for the performers and by the grand display that was presented now turned into a silent murmur as a unanimous message appeared on their devices. ¡°Connection error. Battery at 100%¡±


    (Please write this down on your character sheets as a resource management)


    -


    Next to the party, you would notice that some light has burnt out. Turning to the two phoenix in the viewing box, both their hair had been snuffed out. While they both seemed fine, their golden fire no longer covered Guenevere¡¯s long black mane or Seraphina¡¯s almost platinum, light blonde waves. Between the two, only Guenevere muttered under her breathe ¡°well I¡¯ll be damned¡± as Seraphina tried casting some healing to see if that will bring back her fire.


    -


    Displeasure began to ripple through the crowd, confused turned to defensiveness, then into accusations and some outrage and all chaos began to break loose.


    Center in the masses was the first explosion of a mystic aura, a starry area that more in the crowd began followed the first example. For those made by the mother of night herself, they climbed these starry domains, reaching for the sky before falling and sliding back down their pathways.


    The first to initiate the attempts to reach the sky was a familiar face that¡¯s been haunting the party.


    Orion had not wasted a moment in her ascent, not towards the sky but to where the troupe members stood on the balcony.


    Lumine stepped back away from the edge while the person in all black held on to her, stepping between the two ladies.


    Gennalie on the other hand, feigned innocence, walking backwards until he fell off the platform to the dismay of Matthew who was also completely dodged from trying to stop the wind bearer.


    Gennali in descent made a direct trajectory to where Orion raced up but not alone, flanked by multiple proficient yakuza members. The winds began picking up the pace as Gennali streaked faster, lighting sparking as the friction in the air began heating up. Rubbing his hands together, added more to the tension of lightning brewing brighter and hotter the closer to each other they got.


    Just as the two were about face to face, Gennali stretched out his arms and clapped his hands together right in front of Orion¡¯s face, igniting a massive fireball.


    The flames roared and rolled over each other, smoking out any sign of the two within. The sound of a horse screamed and echoed from the point midair, the flames congealed into the blazing skull as the flames sizzled out of the eyes.


    The winds blew away the rest of the smoke and clouds to reveal Reigh on her bike quickly descending. Beneath the bike was Orion who was grabbing at the hot metal beneath to try and pry herself from out under the bike as they both were falling too fast. Reigh Revved the engines and burning the rubber against Orion who didn¡¯t quit trying to fight back against the heavy burning metal pushing her down. With her fighting spirit in mind, Reigh stood up off the bike and pushed the handlebars down further. Drawing one leg back, the second one kicked into the pedal of the bike, giving it a quick spin kick. The hell bike hit Orion directly against the head in a swift motion and by the time it was fixated back under Reigh, Orion was out cold. She was grabbed by the back of her shirt and pulled over the back of the bike. Reigh only revved again in a different gear this time as flames shot out the front and the two of them seemingly disappeared into the flames.


    That wasn¡¯t the only chaos that was happening but most of which was subdued by the many, many masked and cloaked figures and their volleys into the crowd. No blood was spilled but many were hit and immediately rendered unconscious, so their only real danger was really the turmoil of the masses.


    - (perception checks over 20)


    On a not-so-distant rooftop, the form of the Ringleader you know stood. Taller above the natural height but unnervingly still. There wasn''t just a still calmness but a hint of a cold rage as she stared down as the people swarming, pushing, shoving; some even rioting, while being subdued. She simply turned and walked away, out of sight after that.


    -


    Hearing the ticking of springs winding up, identical to the viewing boxes next to you as you¡¯ll hear through the voice box inside the doll. ¡°Please make your way back to the dormitories. You will have an escort to make sure you make it back, safe and sound.¡±

 Generational Bonds

    Umiry¨±koku is the traditional name of the Uminaga family¡¯s home country, which they once ruled and later continued to rule once again. Dragomara is another name for this world; one that the family presented as an alternative but respectable name to the adventurer¡¯s guild during their journey for unification.


    While their history is complex, sometimes history isn¡¯t always as complex as some make it out to be, just like the bonds between Hoshijiro and Orion, and the ones their parents formed.


    -


    Soutaroku Uminaga was the Tenrolu no Ken of the time, the next in line for rule, and known to the people as ¡°monsoon¡±. Tsukiko was only just his lover at the time since they weren¡¯t officiated in marriage, nor did his father acknowledge her yet, but they both knew that there wasn¡¯t anyone else they would ever open their hearts to.


    Monsoon was prepared for everything it took to take over his father¡¯s position, there was no question about that. He knew all traditions, the rules and the regulations, the order and structure, which made him all the more confident in handing out punishment befitting for crimes made against the family in his father''s stead. There was no way his father would be able to conduct such punishments or judgement due to a great recline in his health.


    In one of the family¡¯s weakness did a new kind of problem arose that Monsoon had taken upon himself to investigate as well as sentence. He had heard that, while disruption amongst the lowest ranked criminals was an everyday common occurance, what wasn¡¯t was losing loyal Ry¨±tsume. The faithful samurai of the family were highly skilled and well trained fighters so to be losing 1 to 3 of them each week was all more than he had patience for.


    Intelligence officers had informed their young lord that there had also been a new organized group spotted in the area. They were known for strictly sticking riding pulse-rider bikes, every member and nothing other than those bikes specifically, even if they were slightly out-dated. They were easy to find, traces easily found, and whose small numbers were easily detained. With this intelligence, Monsoon decided to give their interrogation a visit personally.


    -


    The confinement rooms beneath the muck under the ocean did not scream hospitality to the prisoners within its stomach. A total of 15 bike riders were forced on their knees for hours, the ones that put up the biggest fight had large heavy stones placed on their laps while the rest were simply bound and restrained to wait. One of those who were punished to sit with a stone on their lap was a woman with short blond hair, tied up in a bun and brilliantly shining stars gleaming with the fury in her eyes that neither the stone nor time waited could quell.


    His own anger led Monsoon to speed through tedious formalities when he finally did arrive, slamming open the door to finally look down upon those who challenged thee family''s authority.


    Upon his entry, most in the room bowed their heads down interrogators and rebellious bike riders alike, but there were also some riders who did not bow or bend to his presence, following the leave of their blond leader.


    ¡°Identify yourself and your cause while you show your damn respect.¡± He snapped, barely spitting out at the defiance she showed. ¡°I¡¯ll show you some respect when you finally do something worth a damn.¡± She hissed back.


    With his full attention on her now, two interrogators shifted to the leader to bow her head, holding her into the ground by the arms. They folded her body as best they could against her resistance and over the stone in her lap to press her face into the concrete floor to grovel in respect.


    ¡°Under whose orders do you work for?¡± he growled, having her in turn growl back. ¡°I work for my damn self.¡± ¡°So you decided to execute the Ry¨±tsume?¡± ¡°Is that what they told you?¡± She snapped and he stopped for a moment to walk away. The informants hadn¡¯t informed him that it was this group but that was their only suspicion. ¡°If you¡¯re claiming innocence, then who do you want to pin the blame on?¡± he asked, never even turning his back. ¡°Well, you¡¯re not as close with your brother as you assume you are, aren¡¯t you?¡± her voice traveled over with a pompous arrogance that turned him back around.


    The interrogators let her go and took steps back as he approached, grabbing her by the face and jaw, scraping the rock down her legs before it hit the ground with a firm thud. ¡°Who do you think you are to question the Bloodline of the imperial family?¡± he asked first slamming her into the wall before asking again, with her being slammed down in a repeated process.


    By the time his rage blew through the wall was severely cracked, she was bloodied, her body limp but still conscious, still defiant with an unquenchable resilience that never flickered once. The integrity of the room was compromised though and Monsoon was not willing to hold the room while the interrogation continued. He dismissed the rest to their individual confinements for interrogation or sit in isolation until their turns; all except the woman. He dragged her body with him to finish what he had started, pressing for answers.


    ¡°You think of yourself as some vigilante for the people?¡± he said as he planted a foot in her stomach ¡°Does spreading rumors and killing my men get you and your small collection of runts by?¡± ¡°Well, when was the last time you heard anything from your brother?¡± she asked in retort to only gain another kick in the stomach. ¡°Do you even know if he is still within his providence? I don¡¯t care for your stupid rules and order, your sense of justice or disrespect. I don¡¯t care to sit in your crooked throne waiting to be thrown overboard when the next bastard thinks they can do a better job in fulfilling their own needs.¡±


    She watched with intent rage as he circled back to land another back to have another blow. ¡°No Imperial family, Democracy or Clan would ever change the fact that you will always have a people. I wouldn¡¯t dare to speak for all the people. But I am YOUR people.¡±


    By the time he reached her, the restraints on her ankles had been removed. Planting her foot down into the ground, she heaved her bodyweight into her lunge, bashing her head against his with the force of both their movements before he could even realize his surprise.


    He cursed under his breath, staggered a bit but successfully dazed. For how much he pushed to conceal that fact, she was so much worse for wear much more noticeably. ¡°I¡¯ll leave it to the interrogators to get the answers out of you.¡±


    She laid quietly on the ground, with everything needed to be said was now done, there wasn''t a reason to argue if he was this ignorant and arrogant. No one could get her to say anything more, him nor interrogators, though the latter were far nicer than the young lord was. She would not say anything, not until she was proven right.


    The blonde, rebellious, bike leader wouldn¡¯t know when that would be. how long it would take or how long it has been as time ticks on. Neither would she know the hysteria her actions caused the future lady of the land, not a single soul could calm her fit of laughter. Upon hearing what happened in the interrogation, only after catching her breath did she say ¡°If all I had to do was give you a solid headbutt every time I wanted to settle an argument with you, then I would have more brain damage than a battleship sunk to the ocean floor!¡± she snickered before falling back into one last fit of laughter.


    Needless to say, the young lord did not enjoy the stalemate he and his prisoner had but Tsukiko finally talked him out of his sulking.


    -


    In the end, she was right. Upon sending in a special unit of espionage and correspondences, his brother indeed had not been in his station for months at that point. The death of his samurai had continued to grow in numbers while he held his prisoners and only after official correspondence asking where exactly was his brother did the death stop. He couldn¡¯t admit he was wrong, nor was she right but that started a long formed friendship that they maintained from a distance.


    Mai Mitsuko had come to introduce herself eventually, formally, but due to their first meeting it was unpredictable to anyone else that they would become hard and fast friends. No one would believe that she had not only introduced the future lord to her group of bikers but she also showed them the slums in which she grew up and lived, the biker''s paths, where they tracked and the corners of the city that were almost always forgotten about. He learned to give in more, not just to his inevitable wife, but also to the people, sometimes.


    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Mai and Soutaroku learned to communicate better. He not only stopped trying to stand in her way, but helped her grow her band of riders so that they would not only help clean up what was hidden from the reigning family¡¯s gaze but she was there for every occasion as well. She was in attendance for his coronation, his wedding and waited outside the room when her majesty gave Soutaroku his one and only son, Hoshijiro.


    -


    There were very Rare occasions when Mai ever asked for anything specific or called upon any kind of favor from the imperial couple but on one storming night she had to.


    Mai had been more careful than she has ever been in her life as she rode across and over the storming waters of the ocean below. She wasn¡¯t alone when she came either, only enough to make sure the venture to the palace was safe, but the whole group waited for her on the mainland for her return. This time she didn¡¯t have a scroll summoning her to the palace, no message or letter to deliver and no seal to approve of her entry; she could understand why the guards were going to be hostile towards her but she needed to see Soutaroku and Tsukiko.


    News of the commotion at the front gates was called to their attention but hearing it was from Mai they were quick to come down and invite her in but she refused.


    ¡°I know it¡¯s not often I ask anything of you but I beg for a favor I could not ask of anyone else. Please, if you¡¯ll listen to me this one time.¡± she begged. She wore a heavy cloak, topped with leather to let the rain wash over her but inlined with a thick fur. Tsukiko noticed how her dear friend kept her arms crossed and tucked in the protective layer and tried reaching out to pull her in ¡°Come inside please, Mai. Let¡¯s talk about this where it¡¯s warm.¡±


    Mai shied away from the hand that reached out, but instead pulled out what she had been holding so precious and riding so safely for. Soutaroku tensed up while his wife choked on a gasp that pushed at her throat. ¡°Is that-¡± ¡°yes.¡± Mai interrupted her majesty. ¡°This one is mine. Their name is Orion. It¡¯s going to be a rough night tonight and I couldn¡¯t bear the thought that they could be left alone with no one else around. Can you please look after her?¡±


    Without hesitation Tsukiko took the baby in her arms, gently rocking while they slept. ¡°What sort of business do you have to take care of to leave her with us? The weather isn¡¯t good for riding.¡± ¡°I know.¡± Mai smiled. ¡°It¡¯s just a meeting, I don¡¯t expect it to be a quick one either, but I will return.¡± ¡°Then I¡¯ll send the ry¨±tsume with you.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll try not to kill them this time.¡± Mai laughed as she turned heading back to her bike, Soutaroku left immediately to gather his men.


    Tsukiko watched as Mai got onto her bike and revved the engine back to life when she called out through the rain, not daring to step outside and endanger the infant in her arms. ¡°Wait!¡± she called and Mai turned for a moment ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°You have to wait for-¡±


    Something caught on the empress¡¯s robes making her turn to her side. There stood Hoshijiro, cold and shivering but clinging onto his mother¡¯s gown ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± ¡°It¡¯s nothing prince, I need you to go back inside but hold this.¡± She bent down and placed the baby within his arms, making sure he held her correctly. Behind her, she heard rubber tires screeching against the pavement and the muffled pulse from the bike¡¯s engine as it was kicked into gear.


    ¡°Mai wait!¡± She screamed out into the storm as she chased after the bike, their soldiers waiting for no command as they pursued to stop her but it was too late. Tsukiko ran to the guard¡¯s post instead, her only other option as she, with the guard inside, cranked down on the mechanism that released the bridge down. Only until the bridge was facing a considerable height did she look out the window in time to watch the tail light of the bikes streak into the night.


    -


    Now, it was Soutaroku¡¯s turn to wait, for word, any kind of sign, a message or for her to return as she said she would.


    Back on the mainland, the rain whipped into the visor of Mai¡¯s helmet as she led her riders through the twisting layered roads of the glowing neon night. It was all thanks to the external foreign relations that some unpleasant people had started appearing.


    Not everyone was bad that came from distant lands but not every person came to the underbelly of the streets talked a big game. At first, this particular group of people would brag about accomplishments that meant nothing here, claimed of some grandeur reputation that never reached the ears of these streets, until recent. They had mostly been talking a big game out of nothing, with no proof, barely held up on their own against most fights but their excuse was they needed some kind of specific engineer.


    Well now they¡¯ve found one. Not only did they find their coveted engineer but that very same engineer has begun putting together bikes that were otherwise considered contraband, not just to Umiry¨±koku but even in international waters and the adventurer¡¯s guild. They hadn¡¯t completed all their bikes yet but on this night in particular Mai heard that they made plans to make an example out of this city and prove their renown.


    There wasn¡¯t a lot of them, just like how she started out, but they also were going to have their engineer with them when they made their celebrity tour. That engineer is what she was after. They could run each other¡¯s bikes off the road as many times as they would like but bikes can be repaired and replaced, that engineer they were looking for can¡¯t be easily replaced.


    Once the rubber hit the road, there was something to fear about these bikes. They only had 5, 4 were experienced riders, to call those monstrosities simply ¡°bikes¡± was an understatement. They forced living creatures into the form of bikes to not only ride but tear others apart while at high speeds.


    Mai¡¯s goal in the end was met. Not only did they throw the engineer off the road but they destroyed all the tortured, living, vehicles he made but not without a cost.


    In the final struggle between the guard rails of the overpass and the monstrous bike with the engineer, Mai was able to ram them over. The ape like machination, grabbed onto it¡¯s master with its tail, a free hand onto Mai¡¯s bike. She threw herself from the bike, leaving it to become fallen scrap, when two fingers wrapped themselves around her leg. The large hand clawed with a weakening grip but it was still too strong for Mai to free herself in time. Together the creature, it¡¯s creator, the bike of infamy and it¡¯s rider fell off the overpass of the neon city, so that she could appreciate the beauty for the last time in those 5 seconds it took to reach the end of their 300 foot fall.


    -


    The imperial family hadn¡¯t heard from Mai or word that her bikers were anywhere to be seen for several days. They both feared the worst happened, unaware that it has, while still caring for the child that she had given them.


    ¡°We need to find out where Mai is.¡± ¡°Of course, that¡¯s what your men are doing are they not?¡± Tsukiko asked while she watched her husband pace around the warm brazier they all sat by. ¡°Why not the father?¡± ¡°If the father was in the picture, do you think she really would have asked us for this favor?¡±.


    His pacing grew more agitated ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be easier to fine or hire someone else to watch the child till she came back?¡± he said with heavier steps. ¡°Well asking me the same questions repeatedly won¡¯t get you an answer.¡± She snapped, trying her hardest not to yell but it was still enough to upset the baby in her arms to start crying.


    ¡°We can¡¯t adopt Orion¡­¡± he sighed, ceasing his eternal walk. ¡°I know.¡± she answered softly. No amount of soothing seemed to calm the child now. ¡°Then we¡¯ll have to look for somewhere to take them in.¡± he stated with a heavy heart. ¡°But why?¡± she hushed to no avail. ¡°Because adopting them will break the blood line.¡± ¡°We don¡¯t need to adopt.¡± His wife silenced him now as she watched Hoshijiro approach curiously at how his mother tried calming the infant who was much more receptive to his attempts.


    ¡°Take the brazier and head back to your room please¡± Tsukiko whispered to her son who nodded, fascinated by the faint flakes of starlight that shimmered through the baby¡¯s small tuft of hair. His tail scooped up the handle of the warmed. She didn¡¯t need to see with her own eyes, by the sound of the occasional tick from metal she called to him ¡°Keep it UP off the floor.¡± There was no reply but no more tick of metal either. Either his attendant took it from him or he lifted it, but worrying about the palace burning down did not need to be on the list that night.


    ¡°Orion can stay here.¡± She said while giving her husband The look, the one he knew that if he interrupted that he would become the belated emperor. ¡°We have plenty of spare rooms in the palace for her to stay in nor are we starved for any food, money or resources. When she¡¯s old enough she can start training with the rest of the Ry¨±tsume and earn her keep. Once she¡¯s an adult, she should be able to choose if she wants to stay. She will get her education from Hoshijiro¡¯s old school books once he doesn¡¯t need them anymore but only what¡¯s necessary.¡±


    ¡°But why?¡± he asked softly, careful to make sure not to interrupt. ¡°Because Hoshijiro is going to need a friend. Reality is cold and ruthless for anyone to handle alone¡­ Think of Mai.¡± Tension suffocated through the room, consuming the air and making it harder for both of them to take that next breath. ¡°Mai already knows that with each day, the favor she asked of us only grows heavier. If nothing was wrong, she would be back right now. If she didn¡¯t leave alone and just waited for help¡­¡± ¡°But she wasn¡¯t alone, she had-¡± he started to interrupt before he caught his wife¡¯s glare while standing up. ¡°You both are too stubborn to acknowledge that what you have is, or isn¡¯t, enough for what a situation calls for. For once, I think she knew that too.¡±


    They stood face to face before she couldn¡¯t bear to look into his tired, worried eyes, knowing that was the expression she carried as well. ¡°Our son needs someone in his life he can trust and tell everything to. Until we can give him a little sibling, Orion is the only friend that he will have.¡± ¡°But our boy tells me everything.¡± he said confidently while gently placing his wife¡¯s hand in his palm. ¡°Oh?¡± she asked shyly ¡°Well then I''m glad to see you''ve forgiven our son about the candied fruits then.¡± she said pleasantly. They both knew, without it needing to be mentioned, that there was something about their son he actually did not know.

 A Performance for the Spotlight

    A large auditorium styled stage can be seen flicker onto the bulky television in front. Thick marble pillars decorated in twisting gold vines framed the stage while supporting the tall ceiling of the oblong shaped building. Rows of seats can be seen stacked one on top of the other, encompassing almost a full circle to where the performance was about to be held.


    Already on the stage stood a strong woman with skin of marble with spindles of obsidian creeping through the firm surface of her body. Her hair was a bright fiery red color that was large in volume despite being braided and woven in intricate patterns. The gold and teal hues of her toga brought out the contrast in her hair and the rubies that were hidden in the intricate patterns. Her presence was nothing short from godly and yet it was softened with a friendly and welcoming smile.


    Entering the camera''s perspective was a younger girl who looked familiar. The shimmering stars in the traces of blue and purple were just barely caught by the aged quality of the recorded picture show. In comparison to the first, Lumine¡¯s stature and body was much more fragile in comparison. She neither had bulk or strength to protect her porcelain makeup but in eloquence, her own toga complimented her features rather well.


    Lights flared illuminating the entire stadium, while the seats were empty, the choir was not. Behind the stage was a large mosaic of a vast landscape of rolling hills, Greek temples, cobblestone pathways and decorated marble fountains. Along the bottom edge of the mural sat 6 performers, unified by a simple pale rose toga, black corsets, and a black veil that covered their hair that was kept in a tidy updo. Besides that, each held a different instrument to play, the next noticeable difference were their masks. All their masts seemed to be made out of a various amount of different metal ores that were melted together into their molds. They all looked asleep, eyes closed, but the faces were contorted as if affected by different kinds of dreams. The first one was pleasant and calm, the second one looked to be twisted in agony, the third was plain but sorrowful, the 4th looked rather theatrical, the 5th was regal even in slumber, and the 6th final one was severely cracked but an unmistakably fake, painted on, smile.


    As both the women approached from either side of the stage, they turned to greet a black opera viewing box with a respectable bow and curtsey. The curtains stayed drawn closed and for a moment, nothing happened, nothing was said but the two artists turned to face each other after a single moment. The woman with the red hair put on her mask that completely covered her face in many designs displaying black figures of different stories written across the ruby face. ¡°Lumine¡± put on a small simple mask that rested just around the eyes, designed like the marble columns without much more detail. They greeted each other quickly and simply before the music played and the performance began.


    "Heracless" was the red-haired woman''s name, clearly more comfortable on the stage so she began to move first. boisterous in movement and grandeur but sturdy in foothold. They both began the duet of their performance, Heracless taking a dangerous lead in a more contemporary performing style. Her gestures were open with broad sweeping movements mixed with great agility to climb and jump through the changing environment of the stage. Her impacts were strong, viciously so, enough to shatter the surrounding marble as though it was sand by the ocean.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    While it was no surprise to the club members who put in the tape to watch, for those not from this place would find that the impacts were not limited to just where she struck but also what she could see just by reaching out. Marble pillars crumbled as though her hand truly extended, held on and crushed them from where they stood, making it harder for Lumine to keep pace with the music, the tempo, holding the notes of the song as well as retaliate. None of the terrain was ever permanently compromised by the crushing forces, as just the same of being able to crush the world around her, Hera was able to easily mend it back into place without batting an eye.


    Lumine hardly had nothing but her voice to call her own when this recording was made and it was painfully obvious by the unfair power dynamic. While she performed well under the pressure and circumstances, she¡¯s only kept herself barely out of harm¡¯s way.


    The mosaic on the wall behind the musicians and performers warped and changed, matching the changing field, helping weave together the combat on stage into a narrative story. A large mask could be seen at the top of the stage, sitting upright in a jovial theatrical smile. While the battle between the two commenced, the later into the fight did the mask slowly turn upside down, ticking like a clock. As Lumine grew more and more desperate, despite that her own defenses and spell casting grew stronger, the mast truly never turned fully upside down; even rotating right side up to its smile while the tides shifted.


    The song was a mere couple minutes long, but the stage of strife felt like it went on much longer when it came to an unexpectedly swift end.


    The musicians remained at the back of the stage, only moved out the way from where they performed by a black thread that wasn¡¯t noticeable before until they were in the line of danger. That thread quickly pulled up the musicians, who continued to play, suspended out the way until it was safe to set foot back on stage, like a puppet on a string. As Heracless rushed forwards, crumbling a pillar next to Lumine, it gave her very few options to go. She could either retreat and step off the stage, move to either side and be crushed by the pillar or take the impact of her opponent¡¯s blow straight on. In the last moment she chose none of those easily perceivable options.


    Instead Lumine moved just enough to not take the direct blow but fall with the rubble of the stage, going on point in a grand pose. As the stage crumbled, she stayed on point, held her note and swept her elevated leg across as Heracless tried to get up. That moment of hesitation brought it so both Lumine¡¯s leg and Heracless¡¯s arm were mended into the stage before either can move out of the stage''s body. The pillar above was still on the collapse and the last thing the camera caught; Lumine dropping her free leg down quickly and Hera reaching out towards the pillar, both appearing too late.


    When the smoke cleared, Lumine was standing behind the rubble of the pillar and the crushed stage. In her eyes there was bewildered panic and fear still rushing through her while the six instruments harmonized in a revelrous ending. Her balance was severely off and once all the dust finally settled; it was clear in the last moments she had sacrifice shattering her leg in order to move out the way. Their biggest difference, her body was much more fragile than Heracless. Turning back to the black box, she made a weak curtsey before the recording cut off.

 Secret Confessions

    Dear Guenevere,


    May this letter never find you or else I will be found perished by the weight of the shame and embarrassment from all the truth this letter holds.


    I will admit, when we first met, I was scared, even though all the guards I brought may have been intimidating. There were so many feelings rushing through me, while I knew so much about you already, we were still strangers, and I wanted to know even more about you. I wanted to discover what were the things you liked, what did you think of the different things that life has in store and where it could take us, together or in our own paths. Even learning all that and more about you, between the late-night pillow talks and all the questions during our journey, I feel that there is never enough I could know.


    The more I¡¯ve learned, the more I am fascinated and infatuated with everything about you; your story, who you are, where you¡¯ve been, what you¡¯ve done and where you plan to go. More than half the books I¡¯ve ever read can hardly even begin to try and gleam in the incredible adventure that your life has been. Yet in my own sheltered world, I could only continue dreaming about living a life full of so much risk and daring.


    Stolen story; please report.


    I enjoy our talks, your company, the sweet words and the stupid smile you get when you say the dumbest things. I wish you could stay by my side forever and make every waking hour feel like it¡¯s the most important moment in my life. But I also know that could never happen and will never be. There is not a world where I could ask you to stay with me, to clip your own wings just to make my golden cage just a little bit warmer. I would never be able to bare changing you from who you are just to be someone I want you to be, as you''re perfect just the way you are. And in the sadness, there is not a world where I am capable of exiting my home and my protection. While I know the doors for my own freedom have been wide open for a long time, I can¡¯t help but love the safety it brings me.


    While I could mourn all the time that the future has lost, I will still smile at what the future will be. When you return and wait outside my doors to ignite my night with the fires of your passion for everything, all and life. And when you¡¯ll have to leave, I¡¯ll watch you soar high into the sky once more, my heart with you as it will always be.


    With Love everlasting and sincerely yours,


    Princess Seraphina Vasalisa Survost

 The Perfect Picnic

    While you don¡¯t recognize this place truly as yourself, somewhere inside your heart you still can. This is a place that means a lot to you and for the people who were with you, as well as carrying a long personal history.


    The world around you is whimsical and beautiful. A large open field of lavender-colored grass that softly billowed in the breeze, freckled with the occasional blooming yellow blossoms. A large velvety blanket was laid out beneath the silver rustling leaves that sprouted from branches wrapped in a soft blue tree bark. The stones, that ran in a nearby brook, glowed a faint neon inorganic luminescence that streaked through water that twisted into the air, defying gravity. The water formed the large floating lake, suspended upside down, above a clearing amidst a sparse rainbow birch forest. The trees and land also defied their usual confines, plant life and shrubbery climbed up stalagmites and mystical-shaped plateaus in the open air with no cave ceiling to form and shape the stone.


    In your sight, the world seemed even more whimsical and magical than what you¡¯re aware it is. You can see how the magic of so many different kinds, colors, and hues blend, mix, and flow all together, like a never-ending woven tapestry.


    On the blanket sat a woman with long pink flowing hair, pulled up into a ponytail that ended to the middle of her back. Through the hair, you can see in the woven arcana beautiful variations of colors that shape into multiple eyes of a peacock''s feather, that currently remain closed. With her across the blanket sat a simple picnic spread with a basket full of sandwiches, drinks, snacks and even some sweet treats.


    Over to your side, you can see a small girl whom, for a moment, you thought was Frostine. Her short curly hair fluffed out around her face and shoulders like a pink disheveled halo, ready to fuzz out the moment she started running around again. Her horns grew from either side of her temple and just started to curl back over her ears.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    In this memory, you were just walking back while fidgeting with something in your hands, fixing it up and prepping. You looked down at the old, but perfectly pristine, camera in your hands as one of the latches seemed to have gotten stuck. Looking down was for only a moment but that was all it took to drop your guard. The next moment you felt a solid blow to the stomach, knocking the wind out of you and causing you to take a few steps back. In a loving but stern voice, you hear an unknown voice that feels fond for you. ¡°Adaline! You need to be more careful.¡±


    Looking down you can see the shape of the pink fluffy gremlin had headbutted their way into a tiny bearhug around your waist. She gave you the tightest squeeze her small little arms could muster before giving a big excited grin.


    With the help of the woman on the blanket, you usher the girl back over to where her mother sat. While she could make it over, it was nearly impossible to get her to sit still long enough while you quickly set up the camera. Even this small tripod got stuck in the process of trying to set it up. You knew of multiple possibilities of what could be the problem and you knew many ways how to fix each of the possible problems that started to rattle off, one by one before looking up you could see it. Trying to capture a nice moment while having a picnic, fixing the tripod, or making sure the angle was right, to the woman¡¯s request was; it just didn¡¯t matter in that moment. Seeing your wife and daughter laughing while trying to wrestle down to sit in the right spot. Some of the contents of one of the cups had spilled onto the skirt of the woman¡¯s, some leaves in her hair from where the tiny gremlin mastermind had rustled them in. The little one herself was more disheveled now, hair frizzing out, some of the salmon clay had gotten on her face and clothes but completely covered one of her hands. Specifically, the hand that reached for her mother, who was very not interested in joining the clay brigade.


    Disconnecting the camera from the stand, you held up the camera, looked through the lens and snapped the picture.


    -


    This is the memory of the two pictures in the locket, while the whole thing couldn¡¯t fit, both the woman and the little girl¡¯s faces were sized into the pendant, smiling and laughing as they were back then. This memory is also important because it was one of the few moments that the owner of the locket felt in their heart the meaning of something they hear so often ¡°Stop overthinking things and just relax. Take in the moment.¡± This locket was a reminder of that message.