#dolle mina | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

geekgirles · 3 days ago

Text

The Doll and the Dragon

Chapter 10: Connection Found

Word Count: 31,275

Read on AO3

Previous/Next

Chapter Summery: "Oma Island is, once again, the centre of activity. Between Council meetings, training sessions, and unexpected visitors, the once calm tropical island has never been busier. As Yugo deals with his family and his kingly duties, Amalia too finds herself spending more time with the Eliatrope Council. She just wanted to do Baltazar a favour, how did she end up in the middle of a fire?!"

The air within the Council Room was charged with anticipation and a touch of tension that day. Soft murmurs and the rustling sound of paper as the council members leafed through their reports and notes filled the room. The Eliaculus remained where it was at the very centre of it all, the eerie glow it gave off a reminder that it could be used at any moment. The murmurs immediately quieted down when a large portal materialised right in front of the table, Yugo and Adamaï coming out of it. At the sight of them, their siblings all rose to their feet in greeting as one and as a sign of respect while they waited for their king to occupy his place presiding over the meeting, his dragon twin right next to him in his own chair.

As soon as Yugo was in his rightful place, he motioned for his siblings to follow suit with a flick of his hand. They wordlessly obeyed him.

“Thank you all for coming today.” He broke the silence with the customary greeting. “Shall we begin today’s meeting?”

The Council of Six all nodded in response.

“Very well.” He turned to his dragon sister. “Shinonomé, I believe it is you who was in charge of the minutes last time. If you please…”

The red-scaled woman stood up, a stack of papers in hand, and began to read, “Last week we discussed Mrs. Minervante’s latest complaint and agreed once again that, no, the maximum of acceptable decibels did not have to be changed just because she’s a light sleeper. Likewise, Chibi and Grougaloragran shared their findings regarding the completion of the stage for this year’s—”

Shinonomé droned on about her summary of last week’s deliberations and agreements. As soon as she was done, they would have to appoint somebody else to fill that same role this week, to write down the minutes of today’s Council meeting. At least, that would be what they’d have to do if it weren't for the fact that the role ended up alternating between Qilby and Shinonomé. Many times they had tried dissuading their eldest siblings of always undertaking the same task, and many times their efforts were swiftly shot down with the admittedly accurate observation that, thanks to their divine gift, the Crimson Twins were simply the best suited for that kind of duty.

After all, who better to take note of everything that went down in a meeting than the two people who could remember every single detail of it? Really, if it weren’t because they needed to leave a register of everything that was shared during a Council meeting, they wouldn’t even have to write it all down—it was but a mere formality.

All in all, things were finally back to normal, he thought as his eyes glanced over his siblings. They hadn’t had to hold any emergency meetings since Master Joris’ arrival and his subsequent invitation to Bonta. Which meant they could go back to holding weekly assemblies to discuss their progress and hurdles in their respective duties and projects.

And the best part? They hadn’t needed to bring Amalia up as a topic of conversation for a while.

Yugo discreetly sighed in relief at the thought. He didn’t think he’d be able to calm his thumping heart if they were to talk about her given his current state. He was already struggling over coming to terms with his own feelings, the last thing he needed was doing so while discussing matters of state.

“—and thus concluded last week’s meeting.” Shinonomé finished. Placing her notes down on the table as she sat back down, she turned to her twin, “Qilby, would you do the honours of taking care of today’s minutes?”

“Way ahead of you, my dear sister.” He smirked confidently, motioning towards the blank pages and ink and quill neatly arranged on his own side of the table.

By that point, the rest of their siblings knew better than to try to argue with them.

With deft fingers, the spectacled Eliatrope grabbed his quill, dipped it into the ink, and began to write on a piece of paper. He looked towards the king. “Ready when you are, Yugo.”

The king nodded before addressing the rest of the room. “Are we all in agreement to commence today’s Council meeting?”

He was answered by a chorus of affirmative words.

“In that case, seeing as the matter wasn’t solved last week, I propose we give the floor to Qilby and Shinonomé.” He gestured towards them, catching their attention. He didn’t miss the way Qilby tsked at having to speak up just as he was only beginning to write everything down, and he had to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

He didn’t understand why his brother insisted on being so dramatic. He was the one with the prodigious memory! Yugo knew for a fact Qilby would even be able to annotate the times he paused to breathe later on.

Sharing one last nod between them, the Crimson Twins stood up, this time, it was Qilby who had a stack of papers in his arms. Clearing his throat, he adjusted his glasses and glanced down at the documents. “Taking Mina’s suggestion from last week, we tried using our Wakfu vision to identify the kind of plants we could use to replace those native to our homeworld.” He let a wry smile stretch over his lips. “It pleases us to say, it was a success. Now we know which herbs and plants are closest to the ingredients we need, meaning we should be able to proceed as planned from now on.”

“We are even more pleased to say it was all thanks to you, Mina. We wouldn’t have made any progress without you.” Shinonomé sent a warm smile her sister’s way and bent her head down slightly, gratitude oozing from her every pore as her tail flickered in pleasure.

Ever the humble one, Mina just raised her hands up and shook her head. “You have nothing to thank me for. I simply made a suggestion; there was a 50-50 chance I’d be wrong. It is only a matter of luck that my hunch ended up being correct.”

“Yes, well, we’ll be sure to thank Ecaflip for his help, then…” Qilby muttered sarcastically, looking to the side. He had to hold back a yelp when his twin elbowed him in the gut to keep him in line.

If their teal-clad sister heard his snide comment, she didn’t show, the grin never leaving her face. “Nevertheless, this is all thanks to your dedication and hard work. Congratulations.” And with that, she started a round of applause that was soon imitated by the rest of their siblings, each of them offering their own compliments.

“Thank you, Sister.” The red dragoness inclined her head once more, strands of golden hair peeking through her horns. “However, knowing is half the battle; we have yet to implement the next phase of our plan.”

“That’s right.” Qilby concurred, subtly nursing his side. He smiled coyly up at their leader. “With this, we should be able to tell Amalia which plants and herbs to grow in her garden. Who knows? With a little luck, if we tell her of the characteristics of our world’s native plant-life, she might be able to recreate it in Twelvian soil!”

Yugo’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of the doll. He was helpless to stop his heartbeat from racing as his mind materialised images of her wild beauty as she tended to her garden—her laughing face and the proud glint in her eyes as she managed to grow an entire orchard with just a flick of her hand. Happy, confident, unbridled.

Irresistible.

“Yes, if anyone can do that, it’s Amalia.”

As soon as the words left his mouth—moreover, as soon as he registered the softness in his voice—, Yugo scrambled to clear his throat, pretending it sounded like that from lack of use, and said, a little louder this time, “My apologies. I mean, yes, indeed. Don’t hesitate to take your findings to Amalia. She’s been waiting for your instructions on what to do with her garden.”

That was… an interesting reaction, Qilby mused to himself, an eyebrow raised. One quick glance towards Adamaï told him Yugo’s twin had definitely noticed his brother’s more than peculiar response to hearing Amalia’s name and his clumsy attempt to cover it all up. If he knew those two as well as he thought, and he knew them very well, they would be having a talk about that later. As for him, he would have to store that away for now.

“Yes, well,” Shinonomé continued like nothing happened. “We hope, even if this isn’t enough to solve our current shortage of medicines, it will at least be a step in the right direction as relations between us and the Twelvians improve.”

“Of course, Shinonomé. I assure you, as soon as we have a more stable relationship with other kingdoms, our first course of action will be to establish solid commercial routes and exchanges between us.” Yugo promised, and they all knew that was a promise he intended to keep. He raised an eyebrow towards the Crimson Twins. “Anything else you wish to report?”

When they both shook their heads and took back their seats, the Eliatrope King turned to address the rest of the Council. “Very well, who wishes to go next?”

His eyes immediately went over to Mina when he noticed her raising her hand from her seat. He gestured at her encouragingly and she took his action for what it was; permission to take the floor. And so, sending a grateful smile their leader’s way, the Ochre Twins stood up. While Mina smoothed down her dress, Phaeris raised a claw in the direction of the Eliaculus and, with a flick of his wrist, the magic artefact came to float over their heads, the light it emanated glowing brighter as a sign that it was fully operative.

Adjusting her hat, her silver curls bouncing with the movement, the Eliatrope woman began, “We are pleased to say preparations are well underway for this year’s Sacred Dance Day. Our merchants are already beginning to sell ceremonial silks and portal pendants. Likewise, just like Qilby and Shinonomé, we are incredibly pleased and relieved to say we eventually managed to find the perfect substitute for the traditional materials.”

As she spoke, the Eliaculus shone more brightly before projecting an image of their subjects, buying from the stands lining the town square and bringing their purchases home, where they would be used as decoration. They would drape large silken mantles all over their homes, especially over their windows, and hang stone rings on their doors. Indeed, the holiday season was fast approaching.

The first one in their new home. The thought left more than one council member feeling a little misty-eyed.

The Council eventually took their melancholic gazes away from the orbiting sphere hovering over them when Phaeris continued. “Phaeris would also like to add that he and Mina have already begun to receive offerings for the upcoming celebration. We have stored them away for now, and we will take them out in time for Sacred Dance Day, alongside the Eliatrope relics.”

“It’s truly fortunate that you managed to take them with us before we fled from home.” Nora pointed out. For once, her voice lacked all forms of mischief or impish delight so characteristic of her, instead being replaced by genuine sympathy.

“Indeed, I can’t even imagine what would have happened hadn’t we succeeded.” Mina nodded, her eyes clouding over as she lost herself in the ‘what ifs’. By her side, Phaeris furrowed his brow and gently nudged her with a wing. The action snapping her out of her reverie, she shook her head to get herself back together again and clasped her hands. “Fortunately, it didn’t come to that and this year we’ll be able to celebrate without issue. Right, Phaeris?”

The turquoise dragon nodded, a small smile on his otherwise stoic face. “That is correct. Moreover, Phaeris believes this year might actually be one of our most successful ones yet. Offering period has only just started and we have already received so much.”

“It would appear our people are well aware of the importance of this year’s celebration and wish to summon as much luck and good will as possible.” Baltazar deduced. His expression remained serene even if it gained a grim quality to it. “Eliatrope knows we need some hope.”

“May she hear our pleas…” Chibi sighed heavily, his arms crossed and his expression grave. Grougal grunted by his side, nodding along.

Nora’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest when she noticed Efrim clenching his claws tightly on the table and his serpentine tail coiling around the chair, clearly lamenting and questioning the weakened state of his connection to their mother, and not for the first time. Despite everything that went down between them recently, the pink-eyed Eliatrope didn’t hesitate to reach out her hand for her brother, placing it on his forearm and rubbing soothing circles on his scaly skin with her thumb.

“We must remain hopeful, my Siblings. For hope is the most effective weapon against despair.” Mina urged, her voice warm and welcoming, whilst unwavering in her conviction. She snapped her fingers, and with that simple action, the Eliacube changed yet again, this time to display her and her dragon twin praying at the temple. “And this year’s Sacred Dance Day will not only be blessed in abundance, but it will also brighten our people’s spirits and alleviate the burden in their hearts. It promises to be a most joyous occasion, and Eliatrope knows that’s what matters at the moment.”

All around her, her siblings voiced their agreement. Nobody dared say it, for the wound was too fresh still, but they all knew that, deep down, what she truly meant was that their people deserved to experience some joy in their lives after everything they had gone through. And they couldn’t agree more.

Yugo’s own morose memories of the war were unceremoniously interrupted by Adamaï’s voice in his head. “Have you told Amalia about this?”

The king glanced discreetly over the rest of the Council, gouging their reactions. When it was clear they weren’t paying attention to them, Yugo shook his head slightly. “Not yet, but I mean to.”

His dragon twin sent him a stern look. “You know you can’t keep this away from her, right? At least, not forever. She’s going to know something’s up when the day approaches and suddenly everyone’s in a flurry of activity.”

“Trust me, I know. And I’m not trying to hide anything from her. It just hasn’t come up naturally in conversation yet and I didn’t want to force the topic.”

Adamaï just kept his eyes on him, trying to study him as if he somehow could dissect his innermost thoughts any more than he already did by literally being in his mind. After a few uncomfortable seconds where Yugo kept anxiously glancing back at the rest of the Council, the dragon finally eased up with a sigh.

“Okay, I understand. It’s not like this is something worth hiding in the first place. As important as it is to us, deep down it’s just an annual festivity. Knowing Amalia, she will be thrilled to partake in it.”

“I can already picture her face when I tell her all about it.” Yugo said, his eyes going soft as his mind’s eye conjured up an image of the doll’s sparkling eyes and dazzling smile as she learned all about the tradition. With a cheek-splitting grin on her face, she would rock back and forth on the balls of her feet as she begged him to take her, somehow not knowing he meant to show her all along.

The familiar warmth only the Divine Doll could conjure up spread all over his being at the thought, the giddiness coursing through his body increasing the more he thought about spending the entire day by her side…

“Something you wanna tell me?” Adamaï’s infuriatingly smug voice cut through his daydreaming like a knife, sending him plummeting to the ground as his heart rose up to his throat.

The pleasant warmth from before had morphed into hot embarrassment as he realised his brother had most definitely seen everything through their mental link.

His cheeks were on fire, and it only got worse the more Adamaï’s smirk twitched upwards and his raised eyebrow took on an intrigued quality. He was practically oozing with pretentiousness and, in that moment, there was nothing Yugo wanted more than to wipe the smug look off his face.

“Should I schedule an appointment to say ‘I told you so’, or should I just get it over with?”

“Shut up.” The Eliatrope hissed. Looking to his side, his ears perked up when he noticed Mina and Phaeris were already done updating the Council of Six on their progress.

“All I’m saying is—.”

“That’s all on our part.” Mina concluded, either ignoring or choosing to ignore her siblings’ antics. It was most likely the second, as she had to keep herself from rolling her eyes exasperatedly at them. They were so lucky nobody else had noticed and she was such a good sister for not calling them out about it.

“Thank you, Mina, Phaeris, for your hard work. I’m sure this year’s Sacred Dance Day will be memorable.” Then, under the Council’s attentive eyes and Adamaï’s disbelieving ones, Yugo stood up from his chair. “With your permission, dear council members, Adamaï and I would like to share our own progress next.”

He had to suppress the urge to smirk in triumph at the dirty look his twin was sending him, clearly not amused by his drastic change in topic. Still, when everybody else voiced their consent, the dragon was left with no choice but to acquiesce and admit defeat, raising up to his full height as well in order to inform the Council of their own progress.

Before Yugo could begin to speak, however, he made sure to send him a pointed glare that not only had the king shuddering, but made it abundantly clear he was not getting out of that conversation that easily. He would catch up to him, and they would talk about the new place Amalia seemed to occupy in Yugo’s life.

Holding back a wince at his brother’s silent threat (and wondering if it’d be too suspicious if he just portaled himself away as soon as the meeting was over), Yugo raised his hands up to gain control of the Eliaculus. Both palms facing the sphere, he then brought them down in order to change what was displayed in it. For the time being, the orb remained working but inactive.

“As you know, things have calmed down recently, for which we are grateful. Especially since it has allowed us to focus on trying to solve our people’s most immediate issues.” The Eliatrope King explained, even though the recounting of events was mostly a formality at this point.

He might have been the king, but they were a council and worked as such. The moment trouble arose, they all knew about it and worked together as a team to deal with it. It was also hard to miss when trouble did arise, as their new precarious position as this world’s latest inhabitants meant they had everyone’s eyes on them; anyone could come knocking and demand an explanation.

Amalia’s arrival and Master Joris’ introduction were proof enough of that.

Meaning it was also a mere formality when Glip asked, “Is there anything in particular we should remain vigilant about?”

While Yugo just shook his head, Adamaï gathered up the most recent reports and documents their king had had to look over—not without some complaining, as he’d had a lot to catch up on after he took Amalia out on their little adventure. Not that the dragon felt much sympathy for his brother after having to fill in for him for a full and very busy day—, and addressed the room.

“Fortunately, no. It doesn’t seem to be the case.” Looking down at the documents in his claws, he began to leaf through them. “Mrs. Minervante filed a new complaint this week,” he nodded with a tight smile as his siblings all let out audible, long-suffering groans at that, “but it was a non-issue and she has already been informed of it.”

“In all my years, I have never seen a single person half as adept at finding some kind of flaw as that woman, and that’s saying something!” Qilby muttered sarcastically, momentarily halting in his writing to rest his head against his knuckles in boredom. While Shinonomé nodded by his side, grimacing, for once everyone agreed with him.

“And she always manages to complain about something new each week.” The ruby-scaled dragoness added with a tinge of reluctant admiration in her voice. “That’s impressive.”

As her comment elicited a series of chorus and murmurs of agreement all around the table, the Emerald Twins exchanged a look before Yugo cleared his throat to set everyone back on track. “Yes, well, we have fortunately received more grievances than that this week.”

“That’s an odd way of saying it…” Chibi furrowed his brow.

“You know what I mean.” Yugo rolled his eyes.

“While not fortunate,” Adamaï sent his brother a look, “we have at least been informed of more issues in need of repairing, verifying, or solving.” He turned to his brother, “Yugo, if you please.”

With a nod, the Eliatrope raised his hand towards the Eliaculus, which then began to display several images of Oma Island. “For the most part, Oma Island’s location is advantageous, as we simply don’t seem to suffer from an actual cold season. So there’s no need to worry about not having warm enough clothing or the brand of diseases typical of that time of the year.” The orb overhead showed sunny skies, gentle breezes, and lush vegetation all over the island.

“Having said that,” Yugo continued, and with a flick of his wrist the Eliaculus went on to show what could only be described as an unforgiving tempest, immediately capturing the room’s undivided attention. Dark thunder clouds loomed overhead, violent lightning strikes followed soon after by deafening thunder the only source of light, and waters so agitated they threatened to swallow the poor ship fighting just to stay afloat whole. “The island’s tropical location also means that, while we don’t have to worry about stocking up for the cold season, we do need to have supplies stored away for when storms hit. In this area, what might begin as a simple shower can easily evolve into a veritable hurricane.

“Worst case scenario, we could be forced to remain holed up until the storm passes, which could range from a few hours to several days. We can’t risk our people going hungry or thirsty during that time. Not to mention suffering any possible casualties.” He finished, his eyes dark as the machine conjured up simulations showing their people, frightened and helpless without the necessary supplies to survive. Some of them were gathered at the throne room and other areas in the palace specifically designed for emergencies, while others portrayed their subjects huddled together in their own houses as they fearfully waited for the crisis to be over while they desperately tried to shield their loved ones from harm.

“Grougaloragran wonders why we don’t just take the Eliaculus to the Twelvian leaders to explain our plight to them.” The black dragon leaned closer to whisper in his twin’s ear, his voice strained from the emotional scenes. Not like Chibi was faring much better, as he was biting down on his bottom lip hard to keep himself from crying. “It would be a great way to garner their sympathy.”

A stern shhh! coming from his side got his attention, and he immediately shrank back down in his seat, contrite, when he noticed the death glare Mina was sending his way. Next thing he knew, there would be a wakfu spear impaled right over his head if he didn’t behave.

Choosing to ignore the interaction, Phaeris leaned over the table, his hands clasped professionally, but the way his wings tensed gave away the true concern he felt. “Have you been able to come up with a solution, or at least a plan?”

Adamaï shook his head remorsefully. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a heavy sigh. “We’re working on it, Phaeris.”

“That’s actually why we decided to bring the matter to you today.” Yugo explained, backing his brother up. “We believe this is the kind of issue that justifies the involvement of the entirety of the Council of Six.”

“And you would be right to believe that.” Baltazar agreed, smoke coming out of his nostrils as he huffed. “If you ask Baltazar, it would be imperative that we started setting up action protocols that would allow us to shelter our subjects in the palace as soon as possible.”

“They could always just open up portals inside. All access between the palace and the village is cut off unless it’s through the use of portals.” Efrim pointed out, one eyebrow raised. His other eyebrow joined the first as they shot up in surprise when Chibi tsked his tongue and leaned back in his chair, his arms folded.

“You’re forgetting the fact that focus and hysteria do not mix, Little Brother. Even though our people know better than to let themselves be distracted as they use their powers, something could still go wrong.”

“That, and Grougaloragran believes Baltazar actually meant everything should be ready by the time our subjects arrive. Instead of facing yet another last-minute crisis because we do not have the materials and supplies needed to provide for hundreds of people.”

A nod from the Ivory dragon confirmed his Ebony counterpart was right.

“We can definitely start drafting action plans and safety protocols, as well as begin storing some of our produce away—be it food, water, medicines…—in order to have an emergency reserve.” Shinonomé offered, already drafting some ideas of her own and showing them to her twin, who nodded approvingly.

“We should also work on organising our soldiers into different groups.” Efrim offered, and Yugo couldn’t help but be secretly surprised by how cooperative he was being for once. Then again, this was a matter of self-defence and security, of course Efrim would be willing to help. “One assigned to keeping guard over the refugees, and a search team focused on looking for potential stragglers or victims of the storm.”

“And let’s not forget the need to organise both soldiers and civilians to deal with the aftermath.” Mina was quick to add, already thinking about what would happen after the metaphorical and literal storm. “We might have to rebuild some houses or, at the very least, put someone on clean-up duty.”

“We must also keep our people’s morale in mind.” Even from where they stood, wide-eyed, Yugo and Adamaï could make out the small gasp that left Efrim’s mouth. And not without reason, as it was the first time since leaving their homeworld that they heard Nora suggest anything related to her role as Joybringer. “The children will be terrified, and their parents overwhelmed with soothing their worries while trying to keep calm themselves, especially after the war. We must find a way to assure them everything will be fine.”

Despite the gravity of her words, the Emerald Twins and her dragon brother couldn’t help but be relieved at the sight of Nora thinking about their people’s emotional well-being. Until then, even if she was better at hiding it, her brain had been just as wired into surviving as Efrim’s. More than once, Yugo and Adamaï had both at different points wanted to reach out to her and get her to open up, but the other always stopped them, rationalising they had to let Nora come to them, lest they risked she retreated into herself even more.

Each time it happened, they would reluctantly admit defeat, but it was just so hard to sit idly by and do nothing. It had been so long since Nora had been able to connect with anyone like she used to. The closest thing was her amiable bond with Amalia, but even that was a double-edged sword as the doll’s presence always got a rise out of Efrim.

It was like one Turquoise Twin couldn’t be happy without upsetting the other. It was heart-wrenching.

Even so, while Yugo understood it was for the better, part of him couldn’t believe the rest of their siblings hadn’t taken notice of their little sister’s emotional distress. But, then again, he couldn’t help but sigh, it wasn’t like they all didn’t have their hands full with their own problems and challenges…

A small smile formed on Yugo’s face at the sight of the little sister he knew and loved, knowing without needing to look that Adamaï was smiling as well. And so, the Council of Six began to brainstorm different ideas so as to settle on what to do in case of a tropical storm, Qilby dutifully writing down every single suggestion, why it would or wouldn’t work, and every word that was exchanged between them. They most likely wouldn’t be able to come up with a working plan that day, but they would at least have something to work with either during next week’s meeting or whenever they decided to hold an assembly to discuss this very topic further.

Once Qilby had everything written down, he gave his notes one last glance over. Humming in satisfaction with the results, he set the papers back down and rested his chin over his clasped hands, a wry smile on his face. “So, who wants to go next?”

“We do.” Efrim said, standing up from his chair with Nora in tow.

Everyone listened attentively, in case there was anything that required their immediate attention, but otherwise remained calm. The Turquoise Twins had been in charge of patrolling the island that week. As with when Phaeris first noticed the Cra sentinels that eventually led Master Joris to them, had there been anything unusual to report to the Council, they would already know about it.

But alas, they had nothing to worry about. “There has been no indication of suspicious activity during the night shift.” Nora informed them, her palm outstretched as the Eliaculus showed nothing but the quiet of the night.

While their siblings had been stumped at first that she would prefer to take over the night shift when her brother was the one with night vision, Nora simply argued that was what wakfu vision was for, and that she’d be alright. In truth, the real reason why she wanted to patrol at night was that she simply wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway, so it was actually less risky than the day shift and she at least got to use that time productively. Not like her siblings needed to know about her insomnia.

“The most I’ve seen were some people arriving home late until having a drink or two. But in those cases all I needed was to remind them to be mindful of their neighbours and to make it home safely.”

“That’s a relief to hear.” Glip commented. “People can get a little unruly at night, especially after a few drinks.”

Nora nodded. “It appears they’re trying to remain alert for the most part. Our subjects just want to live in peace.”

Though she didn’t say it, she didn’t need to. Everyone present heard the words ‘especially after the war’ loud and clear. Yugo’s mouth pulled down in a deep frown. While the Eliatropes had never been ones to look for trouble, they weren’t above getting a little tipsy and fooling around; however, the scars from the Mechasms’ betrayal were still recent, and it looked like nobody wanted to be taken by surprise again. Which meant steering clear from anything that might lower their awareness of their surroundings.

The king had to bite back a sigh, and he could tell Adamaï lamented the situation as much as he did. Sometimes it was incredible how deep their scars ran and how they affected their everyday life; or, at least, it would be if it weren’t for the fact that their people were thoroughly traumatised by the experience.

“And we will make sure they get to live in peace. That’s our top priority.” Adamaï assured their little sister. He sent a look towards the rest of the Council. “Isn’t that right?”

His question was answered with a chorus of agreements. There was nothing the Council of Six wanted more than to ensure their people’s safety and well-being. After all, that was their purpose.

A small smile stretched over Nora’s lips, who nodded gratefully. However, as soon as it appeared, it vanished, leaving a tight line in its place as she addressed her brother. “Would you like to share your findings, Brother?” She didn’t even look at the dragon as she asked.

Efrim scrunched up his maw at his twin’s coldness, pained, but he schooled his expression soon after. As much as Nora’s recent estrangement from him hurt, he couldn’t let him affect him when he was supposed to perform his duties. Besides, he couldn't help but think with a touch of annoyance, this was all because of the Divine Doll and how things went down between them the last time. Which in itself was nothing but a scuffle, a warning. It was only a matter of time before his sister saw things his way and got over it.

“Thank you, Nora.” That still didn’t mean he didn’t feel a pang in his chest when his twin didn’t even bother to look his way. “I am pleased to report everything has been calm during the day shift. No sign of external or internal threats; the most I have had to deal with was diffusing an argument between some customers over who was first in line or who saw a piece of clothing or certain food item first.”

“So, a regular Tuesday, then?” Grougaloragran smirked, amused.

“It was actually on Wednesday, but yes.”

“Is that all?” Yugo asked, an eyebrow raised. Even if he knew better than anyone that the Council would have been informed immediately had something worthy of note happened, it didn’t hurt to ask just to make sure. Sometimes, alert as they were, they tended to forget to mention certain things simply because they considered them to be minutiae.

And, sometimes, that was exactly what they needed to look out for.

The young dragon remained quiet for a moment, lost in thought. Then, his face lit up as realisation dawned on him. “Now that you mention it, the other day I had the feeling that I was being watched…” He trailed off, his sapphire eyes narrowing in suspicion.

That got everyone’s attention. Glip leaned in closer, gripping his staff tightly. “Do you think it could be the Twelvians? Perhaps the Cra again?”

But Efrim just shook his head, his brow creased as he tried to recall any useful information. “No, that was the first thing I tried to verify. But even with my wakfu vision I didn’t detect any life forms beyond some birds. And definitely nothing as big as a Cra or their steeds.”

“Perhaps it was nothing…” Chibi tried to offer, but it sounded unconvincing even to his ears. If an Eliatrope or any of their dragons felt like they were being watched, then chances were they were being watched.

Perhaps their senses weren’t as sharp as the Cra’s, as they’d learned in the past, but they still had something no other Twelvian possessed. Their mastery of wakfu. And wakfu never lied.

“Nevertheless,” Yugo spoke up, drawing Efrim’s dark blue eyes to him. “It is our turn to patrol the island next week.” He gestured between his twin and himself. “Rest assured, Efrim, Adamaï and I will keep our eyes peeled for any sign of trouble or suspicious activity.”

“Thank you, my king.” The periwinkle dragon said solemnly, and something twisted inside Yugo.

It had been so long since his little brother last deferred to him like that, since he treated him with genuine appreciation and respect… Ever since Amalia arrived, Efrim had been constantly on edge, even around them, and especially around Yugo. He didn’t shy away from voicing his thoughts and accusing him of letting Amalia wrap him around her little finger, and more than once they had been on the verge of coming to blows over it; only Mina was capable of putting a stop to their arguing.

Not for the first time, the king thanked the Great Goddess for his sister. Eliatrope knew their society would have gone up in flames if it weren’t for her and Phaeris.

His thoughts turned back to Amalia, but what else was new? Yugo found himself thinking about her more and more often, moreso after realising the true depth of his feelings for her. The reminder made his stomach churn and his face pale, though he was quick to cover it with his hood. Efrim was already prone to hostility and near insubordination when it came to her, and that was when she was just their guest. How would he react when Yugo finally admitted to having fallen for her?

The mere thought gave him a headache, and though he managed to hide it from the rest of the Council, he never could hide anything from Adamaï, who used their connection to ask, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He said, then, because he knew his brother had probably sensed her presence in his mind anyway, he added, “Just thinking about Amalia, that’s all.”

To be completely honest, Yugo expected some kind of good-natured barb, or even a light scolding for letting his mind drift away like that when they were in the midst of discussing a potential threat. What he didn’t expect, however, was Ad pointing something out that made his blood run cold:

“You think whoever’s watching us could be after Amalia?”

His eyes widened in horror. Shoot. The thought didn’t even cross his mind. But now that Adamaï had brought the possibility to his attention, no force on the face of the world would have been enough to keep his heart from racing in fear.

Because that was certainly a possibility, wasn’t it?

While the Cra sentinels flying around Oma Island were definitely suspicious and they never really bought Joris’ explanation that they were just out on a reconnaissance mission, what ended up catching their eye and warranting them informing the world’s nations of their findings was precisely Amalia’s presence. And back then they merely thought she was just a regular Sadida that had somehow found herself surrounded by the Eliatropes. But now her identity as Sadida’s new Divine Doll was a relatively well-known fact. She was bound to attract more people!

Sensing his brother’s rising anxiety, his eyes widening, Adamaï was quick to reassure him. “Yugo, it’s okay! We don’t know for sure!”

“But it’s still a possibility, isn’t it? There could be threats lurking around just to get to Amalia!”

The dragon winced, forced to admit his brother had a point. “It is a possibility, that much is true. I wish I could say it’s highly unlikely, but I can’t.”

Just when Yugo was about to spiral again, he discreetly reached out to him with his tail to place it on his hand, trying to offer some comfort and a chance for his twin to anchor himself. Yugo was a great leader and warrior, and he worked exceptionally well under pressure, but the deep love he felt for those he cared about tended to reflect in deep concern when he so much as thought they could be in danger, which at the same time often affected his effectiveness as a leader, too lost in his own worries.

It was in those moments that it was up to Ad to keep his brother’s emotions from getting to the best of him. “However,” he rushed out to add, “we can’t forget that we haven’t signed any peace treaties yet either. It is just as likely that the Twelvians are more interested in spying on us than in letting any sort of harm befall Sadida’s child.”

“That’s not really much better, Ad.” Yugo pointed out, but a small smile formed on his face. For some reason, he was far better equipped with the idea of fighting tooth and nail to protect their people than with anyone targeting Amalia.

The dragon just shrugged nonchalantly, returning his smile with a smirk of his own.

Their little moment was interrupted by Qilby’s voice. “Anything you’d like to share with the rest of the class?”

Lightning fast, the Emerald Twins schooled their features into complete neutrality as they turned back to look at the bespectacled Eliatrope. “Everything is fine, Qilby. We were simply exchanging ideas as to who could be watching us and how to tackle the issue.”

“And even so, it might be nothing in the end. Not like we’ll be able to tell for sure until we begin to patrol.” Adamaï finished for his twin brother. Then, he sent Qilby a warning glare. “Anything else you’d like to know?”

But Qilby just hummed, unbothered by the edge in the dragon’s voice. “Oh, relax, Adamaï. I was simply trying to do my job and make sure I had everything of relevance annotated in this week’s minutes. Nothing else.” His hazel eyes landed on the white-and-blue dragon, a silent challenge to contradict his unspoken accusations that the former would have met head-on if it weren’t for Yugo choosing that time to intervene.

Just like Ad was always there to help him keep a cool head whenever his emotions threatened to blind his judgement or overwhelm him, nobody could help his twin keep a lid on his temper like Yugo.

“And you will have everything annotated, Qilby. In fact, why don’t we move this meeting along?” He turned to the Ivory Twins. “Glip, Baltazar, would you like to continue?”

“Certainly, Yugo.” Baltazar nodded, a kind smile on his maw.

He and Glip rose from their seats, and Baltazar couldn’t help but grunt a little from the effort.Despite his actual, relatively young age, sometimes he still felt like he was getting old. As the beige dragon got everything in order, his Eliatrope twin twirled his staff in his hand until its curved edge pointed downwards and drove the cane firmly into the ground, tightening his grip on it. Letting out his own grunt of effort, he propelled himself and somersaulted in the air, landing neatly on top of the blunt end of the staff.

Baltazar wisely chose not to say anything about the extremes his brother was willing to go to just to be closer to the Eliaculus. Instead, he discreetly rolled his eyes.

With a snap of Glip’s fingers, the orb was already displaying images of the Eliatrope children practising Wakfung. “As you can see, training with the kids is going marvellously this year. Our most advanced students have been keeping their skills sharp on their own, and the young ones who’re just starting are likewise making great progress.”

“The learning curve is not quite as steep this year.” Baltazar added with a nod.

“That’s excellent news, you two.” Phaeris congratulated them, impressed. His eyes were on the progress made by the kids as shown by the Eliaculus. “May Phaeris ask how far along in your syllabus you are?”

As it was his area of expertise, it was Glip who answered, “While we started off with some new moves and exercises for all the kids, these past few weeks we have organised the older ones into makeshift duels.”

“As you know, that is the best way for them to hone their skills; by being forced to think outside the box in the presence of an actual opponent.” The dragon clarified, stroking his bushy beard, his tiny wings fluttering. All around them, their siblings murmured in agreement, as they were already familiar with their teaching methods. “Soon enough, Glip and Baltazar will proceed to teach them about wakfu vision. Not only is it an ability inherent and, therefore, necessary for all Eliatropes, but it will certainly be of help during their future training.”

“What about the little ones? They’re too young to just nuke it out with the older kids. What have they been doing in the meantime?” Yugo asked, genuinely interested in the conversation.

Even if he had heard the Ivory Twins make similar progress countless times in this lifetime (and that was without taking into account all his previous reincarnations), he always found himself genuinely invested in the well-being of his youngest subjects. Especially when it came to Wakfung. Even if many of them wouldn’t end up serving their people alongside him as soldiers, there were few things the Eliatrope King took more seriously than the children’s safety. He desperately wanted for them to be able to take care of themselves.

The shortest Eliatrope hummed in response, sliding his hand over the floating sphere above their heads and showing lines of noticeably younger-looking Eliatropes striking out different poses and belting out battlecries. Some of them had glowing palms, while others went as far as to conjure up small portals. Though only one at a time.

“As you said, they’re still too young to really test their skills.” Glip agreed, his eyes trained on his students. “Still, soon enough it will be their turn, even if we’ll organise the duels by age; so it is imperative they start out by learning some basic Wakfung katas and how to channel their wakfu into creating portals. Once the children have all proven they can do at least that much, they too will enter the arena.”

“But against children on their own level, of course.” Baltazar was quick to point out, never one to cause ambiguity on purpose.

His twin huffed. “Yes, Baltazar. I already said that.”

“Well, that fact is important to highlight.”

“Thank you, Baltazar.” Was Glip’s clipped answer.

Qilby watched the scene with curious eyes. Setting his notes aside for the time being, he took off his glasses and wiped them clean with a soft rag, his hazel eyes scanning the room, searching for a shift in the atmosphere. A smirk tugged at his lips as he noticed a certain tuft of emerald hair from the corner of his eye, a smirk that only widened as he gazed back and forth between Yugo and Efrim.

It had been quite a while since those two entered one of their heated… debates. What’s worse, their king had been getting awfully chummy with the Divine Doll lately, growing very appreciative of the things this world had to offer. He had to keep himself from scowling. They couldn’t have that, now, could they?

Using their psychic bond, he quickly went over his idea with Shinonomé, who sent him an approving nod, urging him to set his plan in motion. For one, Qilby couldn’t help the small thrill that ran down his spine at the prospect. These meetings were all the same after the first thousand years. At least the upcoming storm proved to offer some entertainment.

“Tell me, Glip, Baltazar,” he called out to them, his voice deceptively kind. “Rumour has it the kids aren’t your only students anymore. Is that true?”

While the goateed Eliatrope didn’t hold himself back from scowling at their brother, the stocky dragon’s gaze darted back and forth between Qilby and Efrim, silently begging the former to watch his tongue. What was he up to? Didn’t he know bringing up a certain someone in front of their little brother was bound to cause trouble?

He had to fight back the urge to gulp when he sensed Efrim tense up all the way over the other end of the table.

“Where did you even get that idea from, Qilby?” Glip asked through gritted teeth. He cursed under his breath. He knew his twin was the one with the better poker face, while his sudden prickliness would give them away, but he couldn’t help himself. Leave it to Qilby to run his big mouth…

He almost threw himself at him to wring his pretty little neck when all he did was shrug nonchalantly in response. “Where, you say? Why, I simply refer to the progress you yourselves have shown to us.” His easy-going grin widened as he lifted a hand to point right beside them. Over their heads.

The Ivory Twins’ eyes widened. The Eliaculus.

Whirling back around so fast they almost gave themselves whiplash, Glip and Baltazar, as well as the rest of the Council of Six, could only gape as the magical orb flashed with images of a certain wild beauty training under Glip’s wing and by the children’s side.

“Is that… Amalia?” Nora was the one to voice everyone’s thoughts, worry starting to creep in. Immediately after, her pink eyes darted towards her twin, sensing before even seeing him the dangerous cocktail of emotions brewing within him at the sight of the Divine Doll.

Feeling satisfied with himself, Qilby swept the room with his eyes, taking his siblings’ reactions in. And even though Shinonomé remained as composed as ever, he could tell she too was immensely pleased. And how could she not be? In the seconds following the revelation, the tension in the room had skyrocketed, all eyes on the youngest dragon. Bracing themselves for what their brother might do. Feeling triumphant, he chanced a glance the teachers’ way, only to blink disbelievingly when instead of the grimaces he had come to expect, they had instead schooled their expressions into calm neutrality.

A pointed look from his sister kept him from doing anything drastic, but the eldest Eliatrope still huffed and rolled his eyes. Never mind them, though. One glance at Yugo was enough to know their dearest king had a lot on his mind as well.

He smirked. Good. It was him they needed to convince anyway.

What they had all been bracing for finally came to pass. A loud banging noise made the Council flinch in their seats, the cause of it being Efrim furiously slamming his paws on the table as he rose from his chair, his tail swishing back and forth erratically. His breathing was heavy and his claws scratched the smooth surface of the table as he clenched his fists so tight his scales turned white. When he lifted his head to address them, a furious snarl sprawled all over his maw; his anger was palpable, his voice venomous.

“What is the Divine Doll doing there?”

Glip let out a heavy sigh before replying. “She is training with us, of course.” It took gargantuan effort to suppress a groan, he could already feel the upcoming headache. They had honestly seen this coming, they just didn’t expect for their little brother to find out so soon.

“After all, Baltazar and Glip are her masters, too.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Efrim snapped, flabbergasted by the nonchalance of their answer. As if they were just talking about the weather rather than the fact that they were all but betraying their people. “She has no right to learn our ways!” He turned to address the goateed Eliatrope in specific, one claw raised, searching desperately for the same person who had once seen eye to eye with him when it came to the green-haired menace. “Glip, you should know this better than anyone. Wakfung is sacred! Outsiders have no business trying to learn our people’s ancient martial arts!”

But Glip remained undaunted. “You are right. Wakfung is sacred.”

“Then why are you letting the doll deface it?!” The dragon snapped, his wings unfolding from his back subconsciously, making him look more imposing and unhinged. “Why are you letting her in on our secrets!? What, do you want her to sell us out?!”

“Amalia is not going to sell us out!”

Everyone turned around to stare in shock, their eyes only widening further at the sight of a furious, panting Yugo on his feet, his jaw clenched, and glaring daggers at Efrim. The effect was only amplified by the sight of his usually warm brown eyes glowing bright blue as currents of wakfu crackled all over his body. For once, even Adamaï seemed at a loss of what to do.

Yugo had tried to remain out of it, to not let his feelings for Amalia get the best of him. He really did. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t help his heart from constricting in pain and his blood from boiling at the dragon’s words.

Just, what was his problem?! Yugo could understand growing cynical of people after experiencing the Mechasms’ betrayal, but for his little brother, who used to be such a calm and grounding presence to everyone around him, to throw accusations and spit venom like that… And towards Amalia! Who had been nothing but kind, and nurturing, and helpful ever since she arrived. She was the one in unfamiliar territory, for even though the Eliatropes were still not welcomed within the World of Twelve, they at least had each other. Amalia had no one but herself when she arrived, instead having to cultivate positive relationships from the ground up.

Yes, he would be lying if he said he hadn’t been taken by surprise as well at the sight of Amalia in the training grounds. Especially because he didn’t recall her saying anything about it. But then he remembered how she said she would have to talk to Glip and Baltazar or how she had more time ever since they started training the kids, and he realised she probably meant this. Honestly, it hurt a little to know she hadn’t been more open about her intentions, but at the same time, so what? She was their guest, not their prisoner. She was allowed to do whatever she saw fit, and Wakfung lessons fell into Glip and Baltazar’s jurisdiction anyway; if they hadn’t wanted her there, then Amalia would simply not be there.

How could Efrim fail to see that? How could he believe she was a threat still, even after everything she had been doing for them?

What would it take for him to see reason?

Yugo watched as Efrim’s expression hardened, his snarl morphing into an outright ferocious glower, but just as the king braced himself for yet another argument with his little brother, Baltazar’s calm yet booming voice put an early stop to it.

“Efrim, Baltazar and Glip understand why you would be upset,” he started out diplomatically, only for his gaze to turn downright icy as he kept the younger dragon from saying anything else. “But this was not your call to make, and you should respect it.”

But he would not back down that easily. “Oh, so now I’m the only one who cares about preserving our people’s culture?” He said derisively. “The only one concerned about protecting our secrets from outsiders?”

“Of course you’re not.” Glip said.

“Then why are you teaching a Sadida Doll Wakfung?!”

“Ah, but we never said Lady Amalia was learning Wakfung, did we?” Glip raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching up into a smirk when that shut Efrim up. “After all, our powers work differently. We project wakfu whereas she needs to channel it through the ground and into her plants. Lady Amalia would not be able to master our craft even if she wanted to.”

“But, if Amalia is not learning Wakfung, then what is she learning?” Grougaloragran asked, tilting his head in confusion.

Baltazar smiled. “She is training under Baltazar and Glip to gain a better grasp of her own powers.”

“Which, at the same time, allows us to understand how the Sadida fight.” Glip added, crossing his arms over his chest and sending a silent glare towards Efrim, daring him to say anything else to that.

For this part, the periwinkle dragon looked like he wanted to argue further, but before he got the chance, the sound of someone clearing their throat meaningfully cut through the air.

All eyes on the source, they settled on Shinonomé, her posture equal parts regal and commanding as she stood up from her chair. Brushing some blond hair behind one of her horns, she sent a pointed side-glance to Efrim, her golden eyes compelling him to remain silent.

“Thank you, Glip and Baltazar, for explaining the circumstances behind Lady Amalia’s involvement in your lessons to us.” She started, flashing a warm smile at the Ivory Twins. “As always when it comes to your craft, you are absolutely correct; this will permit us to learn more about what the Sadida are capable of if they ever choose to come after us.” She spoke with such finality that she left no room for arguments, effectively putting an end to the conversation.

Or so she thought, for Mina piped up, “We mustn’t forget that Amalia is a Divine Doll, one of the most powerful Sadida around after her divine father himself. Studying how a demigoddess fights will be of great help if we ever need to design a plan of defence against her mortal counterparts.”

While the rest of the Council nodded along, and even Efrim seemed to have calmed down somewhat as he pondered the possibilities, Yugo could feel a lump forming in his throat, anxiety coiling around his heart in an almost painful squeeze. The idea of betraying Amalia’s trust like that, by using her as the blueprints through which they could defeat her people, sat heavily in his stomach.

While it decreased slightly, the feeling didn’t go away even as Ad placed his tail on his hand comfortingly and used their mind link to assure him Mina had no intention of using Amalia either, and was just saying that to put Efrim’s mind at ease. And most likely, neither did Glip and Baltazar.

“Likewise,” Shinonomé cut back in, eager to move the conversation along. She focused her gaze back on their people’s teachers. “You are also correct to remind us whoever is allowed into your training grounds is indeed your call to make. Certainly, Lady Amalia is no exception.”

“Thank you, Sister.” Glip nodded his head gratefully, as did Baltazar. “That is all we ask, a little more faith in our judgement and abilities.”

“Of course, and you more than deserve our trust.” Yugo assured them, placing a hand on his chest to show his sincerity. “Anything else you would like to share with us?”

“Not for the moment, Yugo.” Baltazar shook his head.

“Very well, then. Thank you for your report.” He then turned to address the only members who had yet to share their progress today, an inviting eyebrow arched. “Chibi, Grougaloragran? Would you care to round up today’s meeting with your findings?”

“Perhaps you have some good news to share with us?” Nora offered. The smirk playing on her lips was a feeble attempt to hide her desperation for something, anything, that might keep her twin from mulling things too intensely.

Her hopes were dashed when Chibi, usually jovial and laid-back Chibi, let out a heavy sigh as he rubbed his face tiredly. Grougal shaking his head regretfully by his side only served to sink her heart deeper into her body.

“As much as it pains me to say it, Lil’ Sis, no, we don’t exactly have good news.”

Adamaï straightened up in his seat, before leaning closer out of intrigue, his arms on the table. His gaze reflected the slight alarm he felt. “Is something wrong? Have there been any major setbacks?”

“Not exactly.” The white-haired Eliatrope shrugged half-heartedly. “It’s not like we have accidentally set the lab on fire or our experiments have gone horribly wrong…”

“Which is honestly a welcome surprise coming from Grougaloragran and Chibi.” The Ebony dragon commented drily.

Instead of growing offended, his twin actually perked up in agreement. “Yeah, precisely. If anything, that’s the good news.”

“You guys should really consider setting up a sprinkler system to actually prevent work-related fires…” Qilby deadpanned with a roll of his hazel eyes, only to be ignored.

“Then what seems to be the problem?” Phaeris pressed, leaning back in his chair and wrapping his wings around himself.

Chibi sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck in defeat. “Just that we’re not making as steady progress as we would have hoped.”

With a motion of his tanned claws, Grougal brought the Eliaculus closer to himself, willing it to display the many failed attempts they had gone through as of late. To be honest, the sight of their inventions blowing up and covering their stunned faces in soot would have been hilarious if the implications weren’t so disheartening. Same when the orb revealed one of their prototypes had been on the verge of going up in flames, only for a panicked pair of twins to run around their lab like a pair headless chicken as they tried to find the means to prevent it.

“Every time is the same.” The long-haired dragon began, his brow furrowed as he looked down at the recordings being played. His gaze darkened in the face of their failure. “Chibi and Grougal come up with a basic idea, something simple that can be improved on later on in the process. Chibi drafts the blueprints and Grougaloragran gathers the materials needed. We will then proceed to build the prototype, and everything appears to be in order!” He exclaimed, gesturing with his claws as if trying to convince his siblings that he was telling the truth. Only for his confidence to falter. “But then…” He trailed off.

His twin finished for him, just as resigned. “Something inevitably happens that causes the prototype to malfunction. And just like that, all our progress,” he mimicked an explosion with his hands and mouth, “gone. Kapoot. Game over. It’s back to the drawing board for us.”

He plopped back down on his chair, his hand cupping his head as it rested on his leg. Given the Ebony Eliatrope’s imposing build and his role as their people’s greatest inventor, prophet, and former king, there was something incredibly humanising in seeing him pout like a small child.

“Have you any idea on what could be causing the malfunctions?” Mina enquired, her brow furrowed in concern. Objectively speaking, her siblings’ current project wasn’t of the utmost priority at the moment, so it wasn’t like their people needed it yesterday, but it was something they had to deprive themselves of after fleeing their world. It had been a long time since they’d last been able to use such a commodity and having it available once again would do wonders to help them adjust and transition to their new home more quickly.

“Chibi and Grougaloragran have theories.” The black dragon confirmed, sharing a look with his brother.

“We believe it’s all because the way wakfu works in this world is different from ours, as Mother has no direct control over it.” Chibi elaborated, leaning forward in his seat, his hands clasped between his legs. “On the one hand, life energy can be found just about everywhere, but on the other hand…”

“...Chibi and Grougaloragran have yet to find a way to channel it productively into our inventions. To really understand how it reacts.” The dragon finished.

“That’s what we wanted to talk to you about, actually.” Chibi threw his head back, his alabaster locks falling back with the movement. He pointed at Baltazar, the beige dragon doing a double take upon finding himself as the centre of attention. “Do you think we could borrow some of your books? We figured doing some more research might do us some good. Maybe it’ll even help us understand what we’re doing wrong and solve this little conundrum we find ourselves in.”

The kindly dragon’s stunned expression melted into an understanding one. A warm smile stretching over his maw, he nodded. “Why, of course. Please, do come with Baltazar to his private library after the meeting. He is sure you will be able to find what you are looking for.”

“Thank you, Brother.” Grougaloragran sent him a grateful nod. “Grougaloragran and Chibi promise to give them back soon.”

“There’s no rush. Take your time.”

After the Ebony Twins finished sharing their weekly progress—or lack thereof—, all that was left for them to do was to make some closing statements and, if needed, to explain the issues and projects they would be tackling next week. With one last look at Qilby to confirm the minutes were finished and up to date (as always, a mere formality), that week’s Council meeting was adjourned and they all went their separate ways, Chibi and Grougal following Baltazar out of the room and into his library.

...........................................................................................................................

That afternoon, the rustling of leaves dancing through the treetops was the only sound carried by the breeze. The paper lanterns and bells hanging from the stone columns flanking the entrance chimed in the wind. The sun’s rays shone down on the arena below, a wide circle carved into the ground that separated the shallow pit hosting the challengers from the curious eyes of their classmates. Their gazes were attentive and enthusiastic—though some of them had to be reprimanded for letting out a yawn or two—as they observed the scene playing out in front of them from their seats on the grass or stone benches surrounding the training field.

As per usual, Master Glip stood inside the pit, his expression unreadable as his eyes followed the two contenders around, studying them with a critical eye. The only giveaway of his true feelings was the subtle clutching of his staff at certain strategic moves and choices. Whether they were good or bad, however, wouldn’t be revealed until the outcome of the match.

It was a fairly simple and straightforward exercise: the two Eliatrope children currently engrossed in their training were to hold a sparring session with the purpose of displaying and honing their skills. Determining the end of the exercise was even simpler—it would either be over as soon as one of them left the arena or, if things dragged on, when their teacher said so.

The two kids currently facing each other were two boys named Bidule, a sweet boy with a pudgy build clad in yellow, and Michel, another boy Bidule’s age who was easy to spot thanks to the everpresent white scarf he wore around his light green hoodie.

Even from where she was, sitting on the floor alongside the rest of the children with her arms holding her legs close against her chest, Amalia could see little Bidule was struggling.

Since the goal was to get their opponent to step foot outside of the line separating the arena from the rest of the training grounds, it seemed like the kid had decided to use his larger girth to his advantage. As Master Glip had accurately pointed out at the beginning of the match, under those circumstances, all Bidule would need to do was to connect a few katas against Michel and, at the very least, he would have him up against the metaphorical ropes.

At least, as the Wakfung master added later, quite purposely, that would be the case if your opponent wasn’t faster than you.

Just as Bidule had been about to deliver an Elienno Kata to the scarf-wearing kid, Michel managed to easily bypass him by jumping straight into one of his portals. From what the Divine Doll had gathered from watching Glip and Baltazar instruct the children the past few days, that in itself was quite the feat, as most of the younger kids were still working on their stamina to open more than one consecutive portal at a time. While most of them were already capable of jumping in and out of portals, they would tire very quickly if they tried to use them as a transportation method.

Which made Michel’s strategy all the more awe-inspiring.

Every time Bidule tried to connect a hit, his green-clad rival would easily outrun him, either by sliding away from the punch or kick or by summoning a portal to place him as far away from his opponent as possible but within the rink’s limits.

By that point the rest of the class had all become eager spectators, and they instinctively divided themselves into two groups as they cheered for their preferred champion. Bidule’s supporters urged him not to give up, while Michel’s followers cheered for their favourite by assuring him he had his adversary right where he wanted him. Even as Amalia giggled, amused, and tried to evade the kids’ questions about who she was cheering on—she didn’t have the heart to choose between the two, as she was fond of all her little friends—, a part of her couldn’t help but think the scarf-wearing kid’s supporters might be onto something.

While conjuring up different portals in succession was certainly taxing, as evidenced by the beads of sweat pooling on Michel’s forehead, so was constantly rushing towards your target, kata at the ready, only for them to dodge at the last second and to send you tumbling back. Poor Bidule was clearly exhausted, breathing heavily and sweating profusely, especially as he tried to pull his own gamble and jumped into a portal of his own with the intention of finally connecting the hit with Michel, only for the faster kid to duck and roll out of the way as the former came crashing down.

In fact, even though Michel had made no move to actually throw the bigger kid out of the field, it was clear to see he was playing the long game. He most likely realised he might not be able to overpower Bidule alone and decided to tire him out until he either surrendered or Master Glip declared the match over.

For his part, Bidule was on his last legs, physically and emotionally. It was so frustrating. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t do anything right. Out of his entire age group, he had been one of the few stragglers, having the hardest time getting the katas down or conjuring up portals. Several of his classmates teased him over his weight; even after Master Glip and Master Baltazar and even Lady Amalia reprimanded them, they always got back to messing with him. And now he couldn’t land a single hit while Michel ran circles all around him.

Embittered tears welling up in his eyes as he bit down on his bottom lip to keep himself from crying, the little boy stopped thinking and just acted on instinct. In a desperate attempt to one-up his adversary, he extended both hands with the intention of opening a very big portal, only to recoil in surprise when he accidentally created two, one juxtaposing itself over the other.

The reaction was immediate. Upon the surcharge of wakfu coming from the combined energy of the portals, a beam of blue light emanated from them and shot straight towards a wide-eyed Michel, his body unmoving as he struggled to comprehend what was going on.

Amalia let out a high-pitched squeak and quickly got up to her feet, bringing both hands to her mouth as she braced herself for the worst. But just before her body had time to react before the beam reached the child and she could get him out of the way with one of her vines, a bigger, far more stable portal than the ones the two challengers were capable of opened up right in front of Michel, absorbing the attack and redirecting it somewhere safe.

In an instant, all eyes were on Master Glip, who lowered his outstretched hand, the glow in his palm dying out. His expression remained stoic even after he focused his eyes on the kids, who could only flinch, worried they were about to be reprimanded.

Relief eased off of them in waves, mixed with a tinge of confusion, when all he did was smile in satisfaction instead.

“Very well, you two. I have seen a lot of progress today.” As a pair of dazzling smiles spread over the kids’ faces, both of them preening under their master’s praise, he jumped into a portal himself until he was standing face to face with them.

First, he addressed Michel. “It was very clever of you to use your speed to your advantage to dodge Bidule’s attempts to land a hit on you, especially given your promising creation of consecutive portals. We’ll be sure to hone that skill of yours in the future.”

Then, he turned to Bidule with a questioning eyebrow, but his expression softened when he noticed the sombre look on the boy’s face. He had a very good guess as to what caused it.

Soon enough, the kid proved him right.

“I’m so sorry, Master Glip…” He sniffed, his gaze fixed on the floor. “Because of me, Michel almost got hurt.”

Bidule gasped when he felt the curved tip of Master Glip’s staff lifting his chin gently so he would look at him. “No need to be so upset with yourself, Bidule. We all know it was an accident.” By his side, Michel nodded eagerly, assuring him he wasn’t mad at him. “Besides, I’m actually quite proud of you, too.”

“Huh? You are?”

He chuckled. “Why, yes. Of course. Even if you didn’t manage to connect them, your posture when executing those katas was perfect. Moreover, you’ve gone and taken a step further in your training all by yourself!” His tone was conspiratorial as he leaned closer to whisper in his ear. “Creating wakfu beams is quite the advanced technique, and you figured it out all on your own! Now we just need to practise a little, and you’ll be the fastest shooter in class, I’m sure of it.”

With one last wink at an awestruck Bidule, he dismissed the two kids, who went back to their respective seats to watch the next challenge. As they walked, they chatted animatedly and gushed over each other’s accomplishments, their friends cheering for them and congratulating them as they made their way back.

Watching them go, Glip positioned himself on the other end of the arena, one hand behind his back while the other gripped his staff tightly. “Lady Amalia, you’re up next.”

The doll immediately felt all eyes on her, shining with curiosity and barely concealed anticipation. Even with her stomach tied up in knots, she managed to flash them a small smile. She knew for a fact the kids loved it when it was her turn to practise her skills, their starry-eyed faces were a dead giveaway, but that didn’t change the fact that she always got the strong urge to gulp nervously.

Especially when she knew a sound butt-kicking awaited her.

Nevertheless, one of the first tips Master Glip had given his students as soon as these matches began was that their opponent could never know how they truly felt. According to him, confidence was half the battle; if your enemy sensed you were in turmoil of any kind, they would instantly know they had the upper hand and the outcome of the fight would become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Never let your opponent know they’ve already won. That would only make it impossible to turn the tables back around.

And so, taking one deep breath through her nose, Amalia rose to her feet, her head held up high, and made her way over to the rink, her steps measured and confident, even if her clenched fists at her sides betrayed her true feelings somewhat. As soon as she was inside the pit with him, Master Glip announced the rules, just like he did for every match:

“This will be a simple one-on-one match between you and me, Lady Amalia. Our goal will be to get the other to step out of the rink using whatever is available to us; the moment one of us has stepped out of the line—be it our entire bodies, or some wayward limb—, the match is over and the person remaining within the rink will be declared the winner. Understood?”

She nodded. “Yes, Master.”

“Likewise, the match can also come to an end if I see it fit and make the call. Are you in agreement with that?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Very well, in that case…” He got into a defensive pose that was mimicked by Amalia. “Let us commence!”

Not thinking twice, Amalia arched her body downward and rose back up, one glowing green hand outstretched as a series of thick vines erupted from the floor and straight for Master Glip, who eyed them critically. Even as she focused on directing the rambles toward him, the doll already knew from past experiences that it wouldn’t be that simple.

Her suspicions were proven right when, just as her weeds were about to connect with the Eliatrope’s stumpy figure, he deftly leapt out of the way, going as far as to perform a backward somersault as he did so. The most astounding thing about Glip, Amalia soon found out, was that the otherwise serious and collected Wakfung master had a fondness for showing his acrobatics off. Something Master Baltazar never failed to tease him about.

Growing slightly frustrated, although she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t seen it coming, the Divine Doll tsked her tongue. Her eyes narrowed in determination. Like she was going to let that stop her.

Feet planted firmly on the floor to remain sturdy, Amalia began to fail her arms around slightly, guiding the vine that had just missed its target after him with the intention to catch him. All around her, the children let out ‘ooh’s and ‘ahh’s to express their admiration, their eyes transfixed on the plant that elegantly coiled around like an emerald serpent and stretched over to their teacher’s turned form.

Blood rushing to her ears, her heart thumping wildly in her chest at the idea of finally catching her master by surprise, Amalia’s Ogrine heart then sank to the floor at what happened next.

Just as her ramble was about to snare an unsuspecting Master Glip up, he showed his cards with the same devilish grace as an Ecaflip with a winning hand. He leisurely turned back around, enough so the knowing smirk on his face could be easily discerned, and dashed her hopes in one fell swoop. Right as the plant was about to snatch him up, the Eliatrope raised a glowing palm up and, in the blink of an eye, he easily diverted the attack by conjuring up a sizable portal that engulfed the vine. Then, with his other hand, created another to direct it far away from him, the ramble closing in on nothing but air.

With the children’s amazed cheering coming from all directions, Amalia only had a few seconds to compose herself and school her astonished features into cold determination. Although seeing how easily her attempt at beating the Wakfung master was thwarted, she couldn’t help but feel equal parts astounded and disappointed. The bitter taste of failure coating her mouth. But she couldn’t afford to let her true feelings show. Not only would it go against the most basic rules, but the match was still far from over.

She couldn’t help but gulp nervously despite herself. At least, she hoped the match was still far from over.

Brown eyes trained on her opponent, at the slightest twitch of his muscles, the Divine Doll knew she had to act fast, as the Eliatropes’ speed far succeeded that of the other races, including the Sadida. She made the split-second decision to go big or go home, and she began to move her upper body with an almost erratic rhythm as she kept on summoning vine after vine with the intention to either smack or trap Master Glip.

But much like Michel had been able to run circles around Bidule’s every strategy, so did the shortest Eliatrope. Except he was a centuries-old Wakfung master instead of a small child who was just beginning his training. With fluid and composed movements, Glip expertly manoeuvred away from every single one of Amalia’s attempts at overpowering or capturing him. He jumped over and below the upcoming vines, teleported himself or the plants away, at one point, he went so far as to jump into one of his portals and on top of an incoming ramble, rolling over its length almost playfully before raising to his feet and teleporting himself away yet again.

Her eyes darting around as they tried to fruitlessly follow her adversary in an attempt to predict where he’d appear next, Amalia didn’t even register the gnashing of her teeth as she fiercely clenched her jaw. Her teeth borne in exasperation, both with the lack of results and herself, she dropped her vines as she tried to come up with a new strategy.

There had to be something she could do to get her master up against the ropes for once, but what? Maybe if she formed a circle with her vines in order to reach for him from all directions… She quickly shook her head and that idea off her mind. No, it wouldn’t work. He could always just portal himself away.

The doll was so lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t see Master Glip summoning a portal and opening it right in front of her until it was too late. As she finally registered the blue flash of light, she stood like an Elante in headlights, the image of the goateed Eliatrope emerging through the vortex of wakfu, his hand outstretched in her direction, clouding her vision.

Letting out a loud gasp, she acted on instinct and rolled to the side and away from his grasp before making an upwards sweeping motion with her hands, willing a series of rambles to form a circle around her and encapsulate her within it. Placing a hand over her thumping heart at the same time as she tried to get her panting under control, the doll looked around the tight space she was in—she had instinctively built a plant-dome around herself in order to shield herself from Glip’s attack.

She was safe.

However, the peace didn’t last long. Or rather, it was suspicious how long it did last. Even as she finally got her laboured breathing under control, the Sadida Doll still felt uneasy. She squinted her eyes into the darkness that was only broken by small sun rays peeking through the gaps of her shield, and she strained her ears in search of any sound that might help her decipher her master’s next move. However, the kids’ soft murmurs aside, everything was quiet.

Too quiet.

And then, she saw it from the corner of her eye. The tell-tale turquoise glow of a portal opening up right behind her. Thinking fast, she managed to miraculously escape Glip, dropping her dome and quickly motioning for one of the vines to pull her away and put some distance between the two of them. She grunted in pain when her backside collided against the ground, a hand coming to gently nurse it.

She froze as a creeping realisation hit her. She had her back to the line separating the training rink from their makeshift bleachers. One wrong move and it would all be over.

“Looks like today’s match will be especially short, Lady Amalia.” Glip said, and she couldn’t tell if he was mocking her or expressing his disappointment in her lack of progress. She honestly couldn’t tell which one hurt more. “What a shame.”

Amalia watched with wide eyes as he twirled his staff in his hands and pointed it straight at her, readying it to push her off the rink’s limits with one simple touch.

Her first instinct was to crawl away, but thankfully she still had enough presence of mind to realise doing so would only result in her own disqualification as she would most likely pass over the limits herself. She could feel the beads of sweat rolling all the way down from her forehead to her chin as she waited for the inevitable, her heart pounding in her ears.

And yet, even when her master’s approaching figure was all she could see, images of watching Yugo train flashed through her mind. She had always been mesmerised by the way he constantly pushed himself to surpass his own limits. His expert movements as he parried and battled against an imaginary enemy. The steady hold of his wakfu sword as he brought it down. The instinctual use of his shield to protect himself. The grace he jumped in and out of portals with. The ingenuity behind his uses for them, always so different, so unique, so unpredictable.

He was just so inspiring.

The doll had to fight the urge to smile warmly at the memory. It seemed that even when Yugo was nowhere to be seen, he was always looking out for her. Yugo would never give up in the face of a challenge, and neither would she!

Her mind made up, a fire lit up within Amalia, one that soon coursed through her entire body. Her expression hardened with resolve. No, she would not go down like this. Not without proving both to Master Glip and to herself what she was capable of.

She had to think fast. The staff was getting closer and closer and there’d be no point in her sudden surge of determination if she got disqualified before she could even put it to good use.

It was easier said than done, though. Master Glip was literally a few steps away from pushing her off the rink, whereas she would need her father to perform a divine intervention to even have a shot at winning! Her fists clenched over the soil, some dirt getting under her fingernails with the motion. She had to come up with a good strategy, the problem was that it all felt useless. Her most effective method of attacking were her vines, and the Wakfung master had one-upped her at every turn!

Every time she thought she had him, he would instantly prove her wrong by easily sidestepping or teleporting away from her rambles, or using his portals to divert her vines away from him! And all without breaking a sweat while she was struggling just to keep her breathing under control.

Her jaw clenched in frustration. It was especially aggravating when he so easily changed the course of her attacks. All he had to do was wait for the perfect moment and summon a portal to swallow her plants whole. And because that wasn’t humiliating enough, her vine would enter one portal, and exit a completely different one, aimed in another direction. It was just so—!

Her eyes lit up like the night sky as an idea came to mind. She was quick to hide it, however; she couldn’t afford Master Glip to suspect her until it was too late. For him.

Now that he had her where he wanted her, with nowhere to run, Glip pulled his arms to swing his cane back forward and to finally push Amalia out of the arena. And while her attempts were a valiant effort, he had to admit he was disappointed it had been so easy to take her down. The doll wasn’t kidding when she came to him to ask for his help; she really had to work on her powers.

She didn’t even attempt to get up after dodging his last attack and the action sent her to the ground.

He let out a small sigh. Oh, well. There was always room for improvement, they just had to keep working on her battle prowess.

Resignation seeping into his bones, the goateed Eliatrope was about to put an end to the match when Amalia’s next action caught him completely by surprise, momentarily halting his movements. She propelled herself forward into a crouching position and slammed her hands against the ground, a vibrant green light extending all over the rink as a large, thorny vine materialised right behind her and reached over to him.

While he had been taken aback at first by her sudden movements, Glip soon composed himself, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at the Sadida attack. Taking advantage of his low stature, all he needed to do to avoid the incoming hit was to bend down, the vine harmlessly soaring overhead and missing him completely.

He couldn’t help but to raise an eyebrow pointedly as he nonchalantly leaned against his staff, almost bored. “Amalia, haven’t you learned by now that I can easily dodge your vines?” He asked, a tinge of sarcasm in his voice. “I honestly expected a little more from you.”

His confident expression faltered when all she did was smirk in return. Her next words causing an almost forgotten feeling of worry to make his stomach churn:

“Oh, but Master Glip, who said I was aiming at you?”

Eyes widening at her declaration, he quickly turned around, only for his jaw to drop open at the sight. As Amalia said, she had never been aiming at him, instead, her goal all along was to fool him with a feint. With him distracted by his ego and easy dodging of her attack, her vine had successfully bypassed him and gone straight through one of his portals, one located right behind him.

While he gaped at the scene before him, from the corner of his eye he caught how the end of the ramble came out from another portal and was headed straight at him. However, before he had time to react and get out of the way, the plant coiled in on itself and delivered a mighty swing to his side, the force behind it managing to send him careening against the ground.

All around them, the kids gasped in astonishment. Amalia had just connected a hit with Master Glip; no one had ever done that before!

Her eyes shining and her mouth stretching into a huge grin, Amalia couldn’t help the ecstatic squeal that escaped her as she rose to her feet. Her own cheers mingling with that of the kids’, she skipped in place several times, euphoria overtaking her senses.

Her little celebratory dance was stopped abruptly by Master Glip’s knowing, suspiciously close voice.

“You should never chant victory before making sure your enemy is defeated, my dear.”

Eyes snapping open, it was her turn to be too slow to react as her teacher jumped right out of a portal inches away from her and flicked her forehead hard enough to force her to take a step back… and outside of the rink’s limits.

The kids all ‘awwwwed’ at that development, and even Amalia couldn’t help but slump forwards in disappointment, pouting. Well, she thought, trying to cheer herself up, at least she got a hit in. That alone was far more than her last few attempts.

Landing nimbly on his feet, the Wakfung master straightened himself up. “And thus concludes this training match.” When he opened his eyes to stare at the doll, she almost teared up when she noticed they were shining with pride. “You have my sincerest congratulations, Lady Amalia. Using my portals against me and to aid your own attacks was a very ingenious move. It takes a very clever person to think outside of the box like you just did. Be very proud of yourself.”

“Thank you, Master. It means a lot.” She told him honestly, bowing her head respectfully.

“However,” he continued, his tone growing somewhat sterner, yet not unkind. “We ought to work on your versatility. While your vines are a powerful tool, you simply cannot rely on them all the time, for they make you a very predictable opponent. I will be pondering on how to utilise your Sadida magic to its full potential.”

While his words stung a little, Amalia remained perfectly composed. Master Glip was right, she did rely too much on her vines when she honestly had no reason to. She had already summoned different plants and even her dolls before; she could introduce that into her fighting style.

“Good job today. You may go now.” He dismissed her with a wave of his hand, and Amalia made her way back to her seat as the short Eliatrope called the next two challengers into the rink, satisfied with herself and already coming up with possible ways to improve.

......................................................................................................................

Glip studied with a critical eye as his students exchanged katas and attempts at better utilising their wakfu. While he never allowed himself to grow careless in case anything happened, the good thing about beginning the little ones’ training was that he could afford to subtly multitask and let his mind wander. They were far too young and too green for their strategies to become complex enough that anything could go awry, in which case, he would need to give them his undivided attention.

As it were, however, the Eliatrope let his eyes roam over the bleachers. A small grin stretched over his lips.

The kids were invested in the match taking place in front of them, with even the older ones showing a healthy level of respect. Even from where he stood, Glip could tell from the way some older kids leaned over to talk to their friends that they were studying the battle just as intently as he was and pointing out the mistakes or right choices the younger students made, talking from experience.

Not surprisingly, while some students who were beginning to develop and hone their wakfu-based senses could tell something was going on, the only one who could tell he was watching was his twin. Baltazar sent him a knowing look and a proud smile, the corners of his lips twitching upwards when his light blue gaze trailed over to Amalia. Pointing with his tail at her with all the subtlety a dragon of his girth could muster, he nodded approvingly at his Eliatrope twin, to which the latter had no choice but to return the nod. Albeit his was curt and to the point so as to not distract the kids.

With that, Baltazar turned his attention back to his books. He liked to revise everything for when it was time to return to their lessons—even though he was a great educator, not everyone had Qilby and Shinonomé’s prodigious memory, after all. Eliatrope dragon as he was, the beige creature just wasn’t as fond of Wakfung as his brother, just as Glip wasn’t as fond of teaching history as his dragon twin. So long ago, in their very first life, according to the Crimson Twins, the two had agreed on each of them focusing on teaching a specific subject to the kids, with the other helping in any way they could. A decision that worked out so well, from the look of things, that they kept going back to it each reincarnation.

That still didn’t mean Baltazar couldn’t chip in once in a while in order to instruct the kids. While Glip wasn’t against asking for volunteers, every so often he liked to put on a bit of a show with his brother to show the kids what they'd be doing and learning that day.

After all, there was no better exhibition than that between a pair of Primordial Twins. Their little audience tended to go absolutely insane whenever Yugo and Adamaï dropped by and had a friendly match to show the kids how far they could go if they applied themselves. The children would simply become enraptured, their eyes big and starry, and their mouths either hanging low or forming perfect ‘o’ shapes as they gaped.

Not unlike what Lady Amalia was doing at the moment.

Finally, Glip settled his gaze on her. He had to fight the urge to shake his head at himself. If anybody had told him back when she first arrived that the Divine Doll would soon become one of his most hardworking and dedicated students, he would have completely lost it and whacked the poor idiot in the head with his staff.

But looking at her now… Even an old grouch like himself had to admit he was mistaken about her. Amalia was quickly shaping herself up to be the best thing to happen to their race since finding the World of Twelve. Now, if only Efrim and Yugo could reach the same conclusion, that would be great. In Efrim’s case, because all that hostility and cynicism weren’t doing him any good. And in Yugo’s case… Well, they were long overdue for a queen, to put it simply.

But now that he looked at Amalia, really looked at her, and replayed their battle in his mind, the Wakfung master couldn’t help but be reminded of the day she reached out to him to ask for his help.

.......................................................................................................................

It had been shortly after finishing the historical and cultural aspects of their lessons, Baltazar’s specialty, and letting Amalia know she was now free to do whatever she wanted, as Glip would be incapable of teaching her Wakfung. Not like he was even sure it would be a good idea in the first place, if he were being honest with himself.

Given her obvious disappointment upon learning her schedule had just cleared itself up, Glip would be lying if he said he hadn’t been surprised to see her again so soon. It had only been a week or two since their last talk, when Nora took her away, and yet, there she was, timidly entering the training grounds outside the village and heading towards him. Though not before greeting the throngs of kids warmly and affectionately as they went back home with their parents.

He knew Baltazar had offered to help her reinforce her studies as a private tutor, but he honestly didn’t expect her to take him up on his offer. At least, not so soon. Not when she already had her garden to work on or she could always choose to spend her time with Yugo. They all knew for a fact their lovesick king wouldn’t be complaining.

But what truly struck him as odd was when she finally reached him. He had to picture one of Baltazar’s reprimanding glares to keep himself from blurting something insensitive out.

Even though the doll didn’t look bad, per se, she was certainly missing her usual exuberance. While normally her mere presence would be enough to put the island’s prettiest flowers to shame, at that moment the girl’s smile was timid, small, and forced. Gone was the confident and poised demigoddess with impeccable posture he had come to meet over the course of several weeks, in her place was a doll curling in on herself and rubbing one arm up and down in an attempt to bring comfort to herself.

Something had clearly happened to her, but what?

Rather than voice his thoughts, however, Glip opted, for once, for taking the more diplomatic approach.

“Lady Amalia, what a surprise!” His twin would be so proud of him. It wasn’t every day he managed to sound perfectly composed and polite. “What brings you here?”

She hesitated for a moment, squeezing her arm, before answering. “I wanted to ask you about those classes you mentioned. Is that alright?”

Glip blinked, surprised. She must have liked Baltazar’s lessons even more than he originally thought. Recovering from the shock, he nodded. “Of course, my Lady.” He looked over his shoulder. “But Baltazar isn’t here at the moment. Would you like me to go fetch him so you two can talk?”

It was Amalia’s turn to blink, confused. He watched as a myriad of emotions flashed through her face. Confusion, bewilderment, pensiveness, and finally, realisation. Her eyes widened for a second as she seemed to have reached a conclusion, before she shook her head. She focused her gaze back on him, craning her neck downwards to look him in the eye.

“That’s quite alright, Master Glip.” She shook her hands in front of her body. “Maybe another time.”

“Wait, so you’re not here to take my brother up on his offer to tutor you?”

She shook her head. “Not really, but maybe once I’ve advanced some more with my garden. There is still much I wish to learn about your people.”

“Then why did you come all the way over here for?” He pressed on, flabbergasted.

“I actually wanted to ask you to teach me.”

Okay, that cleared absolutely nothing up.

“Me?” He repeated, just to make sure. Somehow, seeing her vehemently nod her head wasn’t all that reassuring. “Lady Amalia, while I am indeed capable of teaching you, I must insist, Baltazar is the expert when it comes to our culture. And he has access to hundreds of books that will be of great use to you. You should ask him for help, not me.”

What she said next disarmed him completely.

“That might be true, Master Glip. Except I’m not looking to learn more about your culture at the moment. Just like you’re currently doing with the little ones, I want you to train me too.”

For the first time in the many centuries of his current lifetime, Glip was sure he was gaping. Gone was his usual stoic and impenetrable façade. Instead stood a wide-eyed, open-mouthed, gawking fool who was so shocked by what he heard, he almost dropped his staff. He had to have heard her wrong. It was the only reasonable explanation. What she just asked of him made no sense whatsoever.

He blinked rapidly. “You want me to train you?”

“That’s right.” She nodded.

He blinked again, blankly. Alright, so he had heard her right. That still didn’t make what she said any less confusing.

They remained like that for a few more seconds, with Glip sporting the most dumbstruck expression of his many lives (he didn’t need Qilby to confirm that, he just knew it) and Amalia standing there awkwardly, her eyes darting every which way now and then and fidgeting with her hands.

Seemingly having enough of the tense silence, she asked tentatively, “Uh… Master Glip?”

He jerked back slightly, broken out of his stupor, his whole body arching with the movement. He shook his head quickly to rid himself of the mental fogginess and finally composed himself. His grip on his cane tightening may or may not have been to keep himself from falling.

He cleared his throat. “Right. Right. Forgive me, my Lady. I was just a little… surprised by your request. That’s all.”

“I understand it might be a lot to ask, especially after you allowed me to attend your lessons the first time, but—.”

He cut her off by raising his hand. “I’m afraid that rather than it being a lot to ask, it is simply unfeasible. I told you, Wakfung isn’t just our people’s sacred martial art, it is also impossible to learn if you are not an Eliatrope!”

She lowered her gaze in embarrassment when his eyes roamed her figure meaningfully. “And you, my dear, are many things, but an Eliatrope is not one of them.”

“But that’s the thing, Master Glip! I don’t want you to teach me Wakfung!” That intrigued him, and he could tell by the way her lips twitched up into a smirk that his interest didn’t go unnoticed by her. Her expression softened before she clasped her hands together in a pleading motion. “I just need you to hear me out first and then we can decide whether it’s truly feasible or not.”

The Glip from a few months ago wouldn’t even have thought twice about it. He would have just let out a resounding ‘no’ and gone on with his day, far too busy with organising classes and council meetings to entertain a little doll’s delusions. Now, however, much to his chagrin, he had to admit he had developed a little soft spot for the Sadida beauty. She proved herself to be so much more than a simple pretty face who just so happened to have a green thumb.

He hummed, pondering his next course of action while he stroked his goatee. At last, he caved with a sigh and motioned for her to sit with him on a nearby stone bench. “Very well. What did you have in mind?”

The smile she gave him in return could have lit up a moonless night. Before she had the chance to squeal, however, the Wakfung master quietly stopped her by raising one pointed eyebrow.

With a sheepish apology and a blush, she began, “You told me you couldn’t train me because my magic doesn’t work like yours.”

And because Efrim would never let him live it down if word got out that he’d taught their fighting secrets to the Divine Doll, as well as his own reservations on the matter, is what he didn’t say. Instead, he pointed out, “And I stand by what I said. Please, don’t take this the wrong way, my Lady, but last time I checked, you can’t exactly open portals at will.”

Fortunately, she just giggled. “Trust me, that’s actually the last thing I’d want to do.” When he scrunched up his nose in confusion, and a little bit offended, she rushed out to clarify. “In case you didn’t know, I can’t exactly stomach going through portals.”

He chuckled at that, the sound coming as a rumble from his chest. “Ah, that’s true. Each time you go through one, you end up getting reacquainted with your lunch, don’t you?” He laughed more openly at his own joke, his shoulders shaking as he snorted… only for his laughter to stop abruptly at the pouting scowl on the doll’s face.

Her arms crossed over her torso, one finger drumming impatiently against her forearm, she deadpanned, “Are you done yet?”

“Uh… Yes. Sorry.” Glip cleared his throat awkwardly. “What… What were you saying again?”

A soft grin stretched over her lips, her posture relaxing. “I was saying that I don’t need you to train me in Wakfung.”

“That is going to be a little difficult, considering it is what I specialise in. How am I supposed to train you, then?”

Just then, something flickered behind Amalia’s brown eyes. Something bold, challenging, determined. Glip was actually taken aback by how much it reminded him of Yugo right before one of their sparring sessions. The Divine Doll was readying herself to go to war, and she had every intention to win it.

“I want you to help me train my powers.”

The words were out of his mouth before he even had the time to think them over.

“I’m sorry, you what?!”

“You heard me.” She said, her tone dripping with confidence and sass. He would have to remind her she still owed him a modicum of respect as her master. “I’d like for you to teach me how to use my powers for offensive and defensive purposes.”

“May I ask why you would even need that in the first place?”

Once again, something flickered in her gaze, but this time the Wakfung master felt his stomach churn in apprehension by what he saw. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, but something had somewhat doused that same fire that had encouraged the doll to take a leap of faith just a few seconds ago. Suddenly, her eyes were filled with worry and apprehension and, dare he say, fear?

Before he could reach out to her and ask the doll about it, however, she blurted out, “I want to learn how to defend myself, in case something like what happened with Count Harebourg repeats itself.”

Ah, right. The incident with the count of Frigost. While Glip had stayed behind during the banquet at Bonta, Nora and Qilby had spared them stragglers no details, little gossipy hens that they were.

Apparently, the Divine Doll’s presence left an even bigger impact than they thought on the other guests. According to Qilby and Nora, Harebourg, an attractive Xelor aristocrat, seemed quite taken to Amalia right from the start, and he didn’t hesitate to whisk her away while Yugo’s back was turned.

As the Twelvian saying went, ‘When the Meow Meow’s away, the mice will play.’

Unfortunately, his interest in her soon proved itself to be far from innocent. As soon as he got the chance, he started making proposals to her, and when that didn’t give him the results he had been hoping for, he grabbed a hold of her, refusing to let go until he was forced to.

By Yugo.

Who, for some inexplicable reason, had been fuming practically all night.

Part of him was relieved he missed all that drama, while another part of him was disappointed about it. But most importantly, he was concerned about Amalia. The whole incident must have shaken her up more than he expected if she was asking for help about it now, months after it happened.

He couldn’t help himself. “Lady Amalia, you know that what happened with Count Harebourg wasn’t your fault, right? He was just a creep.” He reached out and put one hand on her knee, hoping it would come across as reassuring.

But she just shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort. Her eyes were glassy, causing Glip to gulp. As much experience as he had with little kids, he had never been good with people crying. He certainly didn’t know what to do to make Amalia feel better about this.

“I still should have done something!” She retorted, her voice wobbly. “Maybe I’m not as old as other demigods, but I am still one of Sadida’s Divine Dolls. What good is having powers beyond mortal comprehension if I’m just going to freeze up every time I’m faced with a challenge?”

Glip wanted to protest, to tell her she was wrong and that there was so much more than what her powers could do for her, but he didn’t get the chance.

“I can’t keep relying on Yugo to fight my battles for me.” Glip actually started at the sheer bitterness in her voice. The way her fingers clenched on her forearms, her frown deepening… He didn’t know where she got that idea from, but he knew it couldn’t be good. “He’s not going to be able to always be there for me. I have to learn to take care of myself when he isn’t around.”

He almost let out a yelp in surprise when her bark-like gaze settled on him, her face set in a mask of determination.

“That’s why I’d appreciate it if you could teach me how to defend myself, Master Glip. I have a lot of potential, I just know it! I just don’t know how to put it to good use.” She clasped her hands together once more, her eyes earnest and searching. “What do you say? Will you help me?”

Glip considered his options, doing his best to look away from the doll’s forsaken puppy-dog eyes lest they tore at his heart and made him cave. It was incredible how even Qilby admitted in all their years they had never found a more efficient manipulation tactic than those darned eyes she and the children liked to use so much.

On the one hand, he wasn’t sure he could help Amalia even if he agreed to. When he said he couldn’t teach her Wakfung because their magic was different, it actually worked both ways. He highly doubted he’d be able to understand how Sadida magic worked well enough to not only come up with exercises for the doll, but to evaluate her progress as well.

But, on the other hand, he knew that look. The one he’d seen on her face when she confessed to being disappointed at herself for, in her mind, failing to stop Harebourg. And no matter how many times people tried to assure her it wasn’t her fault, she would just keep blaming herself. It was the kind of look of someone who didn’t want to be hurt again.

It was the look every Eliatrope who understood what happened wore on their face ever since the war with the Mechasms.

He couldn’t bring himself to say no to her when all she wanted was to be able to stand on her own two feet. Not when he found it to be nothing but admirable.

Not to mention, it would also be the perfect chance to study how Sadida fought. If they learned how to counter a demigoddess, then there would be no problem in case her mortal counterparts ever chose to attack them. Which at the same time would be the perfect excuse to justify his training her.

Not even Efrim would be able to protest that.

With a heavy sigh, he prayed to the Great Goddess he wasn’t making a mistake, “Very well, Lady Amalia. Come tomorrow after lunch for your first lesson. I will see what I can do.”

The smile she gave him in response was so radiant he couldn’t help but understand why Yugo was head over heels for her, even if he would never admit it.

...........................................................................................................................

A loud thud! snapped him out of his thoughts, his head perking up at the sound. As he refocused his attention back to the present, his eyes roamed all over the space until they finally settled on the young boy laying on the ground and outside the rink limits. Shaking his head quickly to rid himself of any more distractions, he brought his staff down and signaled the end of the match.

The afternoon went on like that for about another hour and a half. Knowing the sun would set in just a few more hours, as always, Glip congratulated his students and briefly explained what they would be doing the following day before wishing them all well. And with that, he and Baltazar announced class was over for the day.

Just in time for the kids’ parents to come pick them up at the gates.

While the throngs of children returned home with their families, Glip turned back around and began to tidy up the area. The upside of Duel Day was that there wasn’t much to store away in the first place, since all they really did was fight in a mostly bare circle while their classmates sat around the pit. Tomorrow he wouldn’t be so lucky, however, as he intended to teach his students some new katas and needed to arrive early to take out the training dummies.

As he scoured the area in case any kid had accidentally left anything behind, the large shadow that fell over him was enough to let him know his brother wished to speak with him.

“How did you find today’s training, Baltazar? Did we manage to take your eyes off your books for once?”

As he chuckled fondly, the dragon let out a puff of hot air through his nostrils that had the Eliatrope holding onto his hat lest it flew away. “Baltazar enjoyed what he saw, correct.” He leaned over so he would be looking his twin in the eyes. “You have been making a lot of progress in a relatively short amount of time.”

“What can I say?” Glip shrugged in an attempt to appear nonchalant that nonetheless failed to conceal his actual pride. “The kids are very focused this year. Not a single day goes by where they don’t practise what they’ve learned in their free time.”

“Hopefully, they’ll be as willing to study when it’s Baltazar’s time to teach.” He commented airily, the smile stretched over his maw betraying the humour in his words.

“Look on the bright side, Brother. At least this time no kid fell asleep in the middle of one of your lectures. That is definitely something!” Glip laughed, remembering all the times he had to act like the tough, stern teacher and wake up sleeping students. Although he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it.

“As much as Baltazar would like to take credit for it, he must admit that was probably Lady Amalia’s doing. The kids are so enchanted by her, the last thing they want to do is disappoint her!”

“Yes, you might be right…” He trailed off, his eyes momentarily fleeting over to where the Divine Doll was. She was usually the last one to leave the training grounds, either because her special circumstances meant she needed to stay behind to discuss with Glip how her training should proceed, or because she liked to bid the children goodbye as they left. At that moment, she was doing the latter.

“Her powers seem to be developing quite nicely as well, despite the lack of formal training.” Baltazar observed, following his twin’s gaze.

The Eliatrope hummed in response, noncommittally.

“You are doing a good job teaching her in spite of the limitations, too.” The dragon smiled. “It was very wise to advise her to stop relying so much on her vines. Baltazar personally never would have thought of it.”

“Meh.” Glip just shrugged it off. “It’s the same kind of advice I would give to any of our children. Besides, we’ve all seen she is capable of so much more than just summoning vines; she just needs to be able to incorporate those other abilities into her more instinctual responses to danger.”

“Still, to be able to train her at all despite not even being the same race…”

“I mostly just taught her some basic katas so she has some experience with hand-to-hand combat. Besides that, I basically let her run wild with her powers.” The Eliatrope said dismissively.

A knowing smirk tugged at the corners of Baltazar’s mouth. He had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes at his brother. “You know, Glip, for all your liking your students to respect you and how much you like to show off your skills, you can actually be quite modest.”

His wings fluttered in delight and he chuckled when all Glip did in response was grumble.

“What were you thinking before?” He asked suddenly.

“Huh?”

“Before, during the match that followed yours and Lady Amalia’s.” He clarified. “And don’t try to lie to Baltazar, he can tell when his twin’s mind is elsewhere.”

“That darned psychic connection…” Glip muttered under his breath, tsking his tongue.

Still, his dragon twin’s persistent look proved itself to be too much to bear. He raised his arms up in surrender. “Alright, alright! I’ll tell you! Sweet Goddess Eliatrope, are you annoying!”

“It is one of Baltazar’s charms.” He said easily, shrugging.

With a scoff and a roll of his eyes, Glip finally admitted, “I was just thinking about the day Lady Amalia asked me to train her, is all. Sometimes I can’t help but feel like she pushes herself too much for our sake. Like she still feels like we don’t want her here. And while I can’t help but feel responsible for how I treated her at first, at the same time I just can’t fathom why she would feel the need to demand so much from herself. After all, her mere presence is already helping us!”

There was a moment of silence where Baltazar just let his brother recover from his little rant, panting as he did, before he simply asked:

“Is that all?”

Glip had to refrain himself from doing something he would regret, equal parts flabbergasted and enraged his dragon twin would extort a confession out of him only for him to act so nonchalant and even bored about it.

He limited himself to glare at him. “Yes, that’s all.” He deadpanned.

For reasons beyond Glip’s understanding, Baltazar simply nodded, straightening himself back up. He’d recognise that devious little glint in his bright blue eyes—he was plotting something. The real question was, what?

“You know, Baltazar believes Chibi and Grougaloragran should be about done with the books Baltazar lent them the other day. But Baltazar has no time to retrieve them today.” He said out of the blue, confusing his Eliatrope twin even more.

Before he could question him about it, however, the beige dragon called out, “Lady Amalia! Do you have a moment?”

Perking up at the sound of her name being called, the doll, who had just said goodbye to the last girl and her family, turned her head around. When she saw it was the Ivory dragon who called out for her, she immediately jogged up to join them.

“You called, Master Baltazar? Is anything the matter?”

“This old dragon just wanted to ask you for a favour, my Lady. That is, if you’re not too busy?”

She shook her head. “Not at all. I was actually about to head back to the palace.” She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder to illustrate her point. “I wanted to check in on something from my garden, but it’s nothing that can’t wait. How may I help you?”

“Thank you kindly, dear.” The dragon smiled. “Baltazar is actually relieved to hear you are indeed headed towards the palace, that way, he won’t be keeping you for long.”

“Oh?” She tilted her head, her emerald ponytail bobbing with the movement.

“You see, Baltazar lent Chibi and Grougaloragran some books a few days ago, but he cannot go get them back since he has some matters to take care of. Since you are headed to the palace anyway, would you mind stopping by their workshop to get them for Baltazar?”

“Oh, certainly. It’s not a problem at all.” She replied easily, before growing a little sheepish, fidgeting with her fingers. “But, uh, I haven’t actually been to their workshop. I don’t know where it is.”

“It’s on the lower levels of the palace. Above the underground systems but below some of the emergency communal areas.” Glip explained despite himself. When he was done, he felt like facepalming.

“I see! Thank you, Master Glip.”

“You’re welcome…”

“Well, there you have it!” Baltazar said, clasping his large paws together. “Do you think you could do Baltazar this one favour, Lady Amalia?”

“Of course! You can count on me!” She beamed in response. “I’ll be sure to return your books to you tomorrow.”

“Baltazar is very grateful, my dear.”

With that, Amalia summoned a large vine underneath her feet that would take her to the outskirts of the village, where she would have to make her way to the palace on foot. The place was still protected, after all.

As they watched her go, Glip’s eyes kept darting back and forth between her retreating form and his twin’s suspiciously serene smile. Oh yes, he was definitely up to something.

..........................................................................................................................

Amalia climbed down the stairs leading to the level housing Chibi and Grougal’s workshop with curious eyes. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like. The truth was she hadn’t been to one since her father created her in his hut, and she had been on Oma Island long enough to know she couldn’t exactly expect the Eliatropes to function just like Sadida would.

As she made it to the final step, she had to squint her eyes as she adjusted to the difference in lighting. Given the floor’s almost underground position, there were no windows around, a bunch of torches lined up around the corridor, the only source of light. Following the line they formed, the doll perked up at the sight of a large shuttle with the Eliatrope emblem in bronze at the other end.

Heading straight for the door, a part of her couldn’t believe the Ebony Twins would ever find such a location for their workshop acceptable. Given how they acted when she said she wanted to redecorate her room to feel more at home, one would expect them to be appalled at the lack of natural sunlight in their own wing of the palace.

She pushed that thought aside for now when she reached the gate. Raising one fist up, she was about to knock on the door when she took notice of a metal arrow coming out of the shuttle and pointing at a large button to her right. Peering over at it curiously, the faint light allowed her to see there was something written above it; unfortunately, it was written in draconic, and all she knew about it was that she knew nothing of it.

Still, figuring she didn’t have anything to lose, Amalia shrugged and pressed the button. To her surprise, all the action did was elicit the sound of bells ringing. It was nice, if a little underwhelming. When the ringing stopped, she awkwardly waited for a few seconds, rocking back and forth on the ball of her heel, before the abrupt appearance of a metal horn and a microphone made her yelp in surprise and almost jump right out of her skin.

“Yes? What is it?” Came an echo-y voice that sounded suspiciously like Chibi’s.

Her hands over her still rapidly-thumping heart, Amalia composed herself enough to reply, “Uh…This is Amalia?” She said uncertainly, grimacing. “Master Baltazar asked me to come pick up some books he lent you.”

There was silence on the other end until, “Oh, right! Right. The books. Yes, we have them right here. Come right this way, Amalia.”

The doll went from staring blankly at the receding equipment to whirling her head around at the whirring sound of the metal gates opening right in front of her. A nervous tingle went down her spine as she took the first step into her room, causing her to shiver when her bare sole came into contact with the sleek, cold floor.

She had to blink a few times because of the new change in lighting, but when her brown eyes finally adjusted, they immediately widened as a gasp escaped her throat.

Chibi and Grogaloragran’s atelier was an engineering and architectural marvel. The room formed a u-shape that, upon further consideration, seemed to take up the entirety of the floor it was located in, explaining the lack of personnel and other rooms. The floor was made of some kind of metal, and the walls were the same bluish colour as the stones scattered all over the village, suggesting it was made from the same material.

Neon blue streaks the colour of the purest wakfu lined up the walls, forming spirals; the turquoise hue shone brighter every so often, indicating some sort of activity as it pulsed with energy. Sticking out of those very walls were golden gears, some of them doubling as platforms and even tables on top of which were scattered countless artefacts and tools Amalia wouldn’t have been to name even if she tried. But what really caught her eye and brought a smile to her face was the sight of potted plants carrying white flowers in bloom that decorated the top of the columns supporting the ceiling.

Despite its grandiosity, however, it had to be said that the workshop wasn’t exactly the tidiest, most organised place either. Aside from all the objects cluttering the different tables, there were numerous pieces of equipment lying around on the floor, obstructing the way. Just like many blueprints the contents of which the doll couldn’t make heads or tails of were hung up the walls or threatening to slide off the tables.

However, the most fascinating thing of it all had to be the weak pulse of light coming from behind what seemed to be either a closet or another small room located at the far end of the atelier. It pulsed with energy, the same kind of energy travelling all over the workshop, nay, the palace, only purer, clearer, more powerful.

The Divine Doll didn’t even register taking the first step deeper into the room and towards the energy source, entranced by its call. It was like those mysterious pulses she kept feeling now and then, resonating with her and reverberating all over her being. But also different. It just compelled her to get closer. To reach out and—.

“Amalia! Good afternoon!”

She was stopped dead by Chibi jumping out of a portal right in front of her. His usual laidback grin was as contagious as always, causing her to manage a small, trembling smile of her own even as she tried to recover from the fright. Sliding one arm around her shoulders, the tanned Eliatrope continued talking as if he hadn’t just scared about a century or two out of her lifespan. Hadn’t the doll been so out of it, she might have noticed he seemed to be gently leading her away from the gates guarding that mysterious energy.

“Good afternoon, Chibi. It’s good to see you again.” She managed.

“Let me just say, Grougal and I weren’t expecting you.” Right as he said that, the dragon in question appeared from behind a column, offering the Sadida Doll a curt nod of acknowledgement that she returned with a weak, but friendly, wave. “We were actually expecting Baltazar to come at some point, asking for them.”

He led her straight to a nearby table, motioning for her to sit down after pulling out a chair for his surprise guest. With a soft ‘Thank you’, it was Amalia’s turn to explain. “Apparently, he was busy today so he couldn't come himself, and since I was headed to the palace anyway, he asked me for a favour.” She shrugged, unbothered. “As I said, I was planning on coming back either way, so…”

“Still, it is rare for Baltazar to delegate something so minor on somebody else.” Grougaloragran pointed out, coming to join them at the table. “Normally, he would take care of it himself some other day. When it comes to lending books, he’s much more of a giver than a taker.”

“Maybe he needs them for an upcoming lesson he’s prepping up?” Amalia offered. She furrowed her brow when the Ebony Twins just exchanged a glance, clearly not convinced.

“Maybe…” Chibi conceded, drawing out the words slowly. Then he perked up, seemingly choosing to ruminate those thoughts later. “Anyway, here are the books, Amalia. Thank Baltazar on our behalf; hopefully, we’ll be able to apply what we’ve learned from them.”

Grougaloragran pulled a few tomes out of his white robes and handed them over to the doll, who, after letting out an ‘oof!’ due to the unexpected weight, could only tilt her head in confusion as she read the titles. A perk of living on Oma Island with the Eliatropes was that one of the first things she learned was how to read their language (draconic speech notwithstanding). A downside of it was that she still had a long way to go before she could understand everything.

And what was written on those books she had no idea what it said.

For a moment, she pondered whether she would be too nosy for asking, but curiosity won out against good manners and, before she knew it, she blurted out, “Uh, if you don’t mind my asking, what did you need these for?”

She blinked at Grougaloragran’s answer, “Grougaloragran and Chibi just wanted to know if they held the answers to some of their questions.”

The white-haired Eliatrope flashed his brother a wry smile, amused at his enigmatic answer, but especially at the discombobulate look on the doll’s face. Whatever Amalia had been expecting when she asked, it sure wasn’t that.

Normally, Chibi would leave it at that, thank Amalia again before bidding her goodbye, and focus back on their work. There was much that needed to be done and their constant setbacks weren’t helping them any when it came to making progress. Rather, instead of learning from their mistakes, they just found new ways to make them.

One thing was patience being the mother of science. One thing was trial and error. But another, very different thing was being absolutely, hopelessly stuck. More than once he found himself hoping he’d get one of his visions and that would miraculously lead to a breakthrough, but no such luck.

Sometimes he couldn’t help wondering what was the point in being a prophet if he didn’t have a say in the things he could see and when. It would certainly be of use with creative blocks. That was a problem they hadn’t really dealt with since their days designing the Zenit, judging from Qilby and Shinonomé’s retellings. And Chibi couldn’t deny he liked it much better when his and Grougal’s creative juices flowed freely.

They’d been putting off helping Mrs. Minervante pick some curtains due to this for weeks! Say what you will about her, but that woman had impeccable taste when it came to interior design and the Ebony Twins, passionate as they were for their craft, had to respect that.

It was in spite of all this—their inherent perfectionism; their tight, self-imposed deadline; their drive to give their people even the slightest sense of normalcy and familiarity in unfamiliar territory—, Chibi surprised himself by taking a few minutes to seriously consider and try to answer Amalia’s question.

“What my brother means, Amalia,” the doll’s head snapped over to Chibi, her brows furrowed as she listened attentively, “is we’ve been having a bit of trouble working on a new invention lately.” He sent her a lazy smile. “So we were hoping we’d be able to figure things out if we had more information.”

Amalia let his words sink in, taking her sweet time in processing them. That was right. It had completely slipped her mind that those two weren’t just the brilliant minds behind the design and construction of both the palace and village, but they were also their people’s greatest inventors. To be perfectly honest, she hadn’t really spent all that much time with them since she redecorated her room, so it was easy to forget their multiple facets beyond ‘interior design nuts.’

It turned out even geniuses had creative blocks every now and then. Huh, who would’ve thought?

Her curiosity piqued, the Divine Doll couldn’t help but ask, leaning closer from her seat, “May I ask what kind of invention has been giving you trouble?”

The dark-clothed Eliatrope sent his older brother a questioning look, silently asking for permission—and not-so-silently via their psychic bond.

Grougal’s golden, slitted eyes flickered between his twin and their guest, unsure. It wasn’t that he didn’t like or even trust Amalia, thanks to his wakfu vision, he had been able to see she meant them no harm practically as soon as she arrived; it was just that he tended to be a little squeamish when it came to whom he allowed near their inventions. Especially the unfinished ones.

Eventually, he gave in with a sigh, throwing his head back slightly in surrender. It wasn’t like secrecy really mattered anymore, not after Chibi told her loud and clear the reason they needed Baltazar’s help in the first place. Besides, they were already making zero progress. What was Amalia knowing going to do, stuck them more?

Amalia scurried to her feet, honestly surprised, when Grougaloragran raised a clawed hand and gestured for her to come with him, Chibi following right behind her. So, raising from her chair, she walked right behind the humanoid dragon, not knowing what to expect as he led her deeper into their workshop.

She let her eyes roam around the space for a little while longer, her brown orbs following the patterns drawn on the walls by the wakfu lines almost on autopilot. Her neck craned instinctively as her eyes tried to follow the energy pulses all over the room and up to where they ended—or began, depending on how you looked at it.

She was so lost in thought, she didn’t notice when Grougaloragran stopped walking and she bumped right into his back. Letting out a small sound of protest, she brought a hand to her nose and gingerly nursed it.

“Amalia, are you okay?” Chibi asked, his hazel eyes shining with concern, but mostly amusement.

She waved him off with a motion of her free hand. “Yes, yes, don’t worry. I wasn’t really looking where I was going, that’s all.”

Speaking of… Where were they? Blinking rapidly to focus, the Sadida Doll peered over the dragon’s shoulder—who stood with his arms crossed over his white tunic as he waited for his two companions to be done with their conversation—and finally took in her surroundings.

They were still inside their workshop, that much was obvious. But it was somehow even more disorganised than the area she had just been in. Tucked away into a corner was a relatively small space, not unlike a grotto, hidden away from the rest of the world behind a large, thick curtain that was currently drawn to the side, revealing its contents.

Draped all over the walls were even more blueprints she didn’t really understand, alongside papers with countless equations, unfinished or scribbled over, and lists with certain elements crossed out or with arrows sticking out of them and pointing and what she could only imagine were corrections. Gaze lowering, she laid her eyes on another golden gear right below sticking out from the wall, flanked by two stools, and equally overflowing with contents: an assortment of unused pieces, tools, and scrap metals were scattered over its surface, some dangling dangerously close to the edge while others had long fallen to the floor, where they laid, forgotten. Trays and glasses with nothing but crumbs or half-eaten food already revealed that the Ebony Twins hadn’t really left their wing of the palace in a while, not even to eat.

While a part of Amalia couldn’t help but be concerned for their health, what held her attention was the unfinished contraption standing out amidst the mess, almost as if beckoning her to focus on it. Either she had a good eye, or Chibi must have noticed her looking at it, for he gestured at the mysterious object to explain:

“This,” he began, picking up the rectangular and surprisingly thin object and dropping it gently into the doll’s careful hands, “is what’s been depriving us of sleep lately. As you can see, it’s not quite finished yet, but with Baltazar’s books, hopefully soon.”

“What is it?” Amalia asked, almost absentmindedly.

Fully aware that what she had was something important to her hosts, she gingerly moved it around in her hands, giving it a good glance-over. It was a small, metallic rectangle with a smooth glass on one side and rather rudimentary circuitry on the other, which, if she had to guess, she’d say was probably the part that remained unfinished. Even so, despite its unpolished state, the doll had to admit it was considerably sleek, so much so, she was actually looking forward to the finished product.

Even if she had no idea what it could be. In her eyes, it looked like a very futuristic hand mirror. She wrinkled her nose at her own thoughts. She seriously doubted the Eliatropes’ greatest minds would have that much trouble with something that had already been invented.

As the saying went, ‘if it’s not broken, don’t fix it.’ Which was doubly true when talking about mirrors, especially if you were superstitious.

Although, to be perfectly honest, even Grougaloragran’s answer didn’t do much to enlighten her:

“Back in our homeworld, that was called a cellphone.” He said, leaning closer to Amalia and pointing at the ‘cellphone’ in her hands with one claw. “Our people used them to communicate with each other immediately, even at long distance.”

“All they needed to work was to be connected to the Wik-Fi Network, a connection Grougal and I developed that used radio waves to transmit data to the Wakfu Core, which at the same time allowed for every cellphone user to be in contact with each other and to communicate.” Chibi rambled, too engrossed in his explanation to realise all his techno-babble went right over his guest’s head.

As he spoke and Amalia’s expression grew more and more dumbstruck, the Eliatrope raised a glowing palm in the air. Curious, brown eyes following the direction it was pointed at, the doll managed to vaguely make out a moderately-sized object standing not too far away from them right before a portal opened up right beneath it and swallowed it whole. She stared blankly at the now vacant space for a few more seconds before the sight of that very same object emerging from the floor and right in front of her startled her, causing her to almost drop the cellphone in surprise.

“If Grougaloragran may…” Ever the cautious one, the black dragon gently pried the device from her hands and placed it back on the table.

As much as she would’ve liked to be offended at the silent implication that she couldn’t be trusted with it, all Amalia could do was blush and laugh sheepishly instead as she toyed absently with a strand of her hair. To be fair, she did almost drop and break it just now.

Deciding it’d be best if she played it cool for now, the doll focused back on the prism she now had right in front of her. It was a blue, square-shaped object with golden details decorating every corner and lining up the edges. Some small lights located alongside the base flickered on and off, shining the same bright turquoise she had long learned to associate with the portal-making people. Glinting underneath the room’s faint light and on top of the base of the artefact was what appeared to be a button of some kind, a dark shell inside a golden circumference pierced by straight lines that brought to mind the outline of a portal. Several more, smaller buttons surrounded it, each of them in charge of their own unknown function but clearly nowhere near as important as the one they all guarded.

Despite himself, Grougaloragran couldn’t help but chuckle at the owlish look on the Divine Doll’s face as her eyes trailed all over the object, but it was Chibi who continued on with the explanation. “And this is the Wakfu Core. Thankfully, we managed to bring it with us from home and it is still operational. Talk about luck, too!” He made a show out of wiping his forehead at the same time as he let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Getting a cellphone to work is a walk in the park compared to trying to rebuild the Wakfu Core from scratch. It would have been nearly impossible even for us!”

“Is it really that important?” Amalia couldn’t help but ask, failing to grasp the true significance of it all. She knelt down and gingerly slid one hand over the machine’s smooth surface, and almost snatched it away when she noticed it was actually warm to the touch.

“Extremely so.” The black dragon replied, the gravely inflection in his voice conveying just how serious he was. “It may not look like it, but this little friend over here powers the vast majority of our technology. From the lamps in the village, to the Eliaculus.”

“The Eliaculus—?”

“Without it, we would be left unable to perform even the simplest of tasks for a very long time. Our only chance would be relying on far more primitive and rudimentary methods to get by.” Chibi added, returning the Wakfu Core to its previous place just as quickly as he first summoned it.

“You mean like lighting candles during nightfall?” Amalia offered as she stood up from her crouched down position, mentally resigning herself to accept her question went ignored but choosing to let it go.

“Precisely.” Grougal nodded.

“Alright. Then what seems to be the problem?” Just as the doll asked, Chibi grabbed a pair of safety goggles from a nearby shelf and put them on. She involuntarily let out a small gasp of excitement, her body standing to attention at the possibility of finally seeing an Eliatrope with his hood off—although a part of her really wished it had been Yugo—, only to softly whine in disappointment when the robed Eliatrope turned her back to her and somehow got the glasses on with his hood still in its place.

When Chibi finally turned back around, goggles safely in their place, he couldn’t help but raise a confused eyebrow at the doll’s slumped shoulders and sour expression, his twin soon mimicking his actions. “Um… Are you okay, Amalia?”

“What?” Fretting when she realised she wasn’t doing that good a job at hiding her disappointment, she immediately straightened herself back, an awkwardly big grin that didn’t really fool anyone on her face. “O-oh, yes. Of course. Everything-everything is fine.” Then, cheeks burning under their intense scrutiny and her own mediocre acting, she sputtered, “S-so, you were saying?”

“Okay…” The Eliatrope drawled out the word, sharing one last look with his twin before walking past the doll and toward the table. Pulling one of the stools away, he plopped himself down on top of it and began to tinker with their unfinished prototype. “Well, as we were saying, our main problem is that we just can’t get the cellphone to connect to the Wik-Fi Network, therefore, it simply doesn’t work. However, if Baltazar’s books are right, all that’s needed are some minor adjustments and problem solved!”

Amalia couldn’t help but gape in awe when, with a purposeful twirl of his fingers, Chibi summoned forth a few wisps of energy that he then molded into a small hammer and a pair of pincers. While she already knew Eliatropes could use their magic to shape wakfu into energy objects, she had only ever seen Yugo summon his trusty sword and shield, so the sight of Chibi’s own choice of tools still took her by surprise. Although she had to admit his preference for actual instruments rather than traditional weapons suited him perfectly.

She watched on as he poked and rearranged and altered the circuitry, small sparks flying every which way with every touch of his tools, lighting up the corner. She was completely transfixed by the process, hands clasped before her chest and a beaming smile stretching her lips. However, when the doll chanced a glance the black dragon’s way, her doe-like eyes soon darkened with concern.

The Divine Doll had long come to understand Grougaloragran was, for the most part, a rather stoic dragon. The only things that really got his blood pumping were his position within the Council of Six, their people’s safety and well-being in jeopardy, and the mere suggestion that you didn’t agree with his and his brother’s expert opinion on home décor. So it really wasn’t a surprise to see he wasn’t nearly as awestruck as her by his twin’s work (really, it was to be expected as he most likely saw it on an everyday basis). What the green-haired doll hadn’t been expecting, however, was the deep frown framing his golden eyes, nor the way his jaw tensed.

Before she could ask him if anything was wrong, though, he blurted out, “Chibi, are you sure you know what you’re doing? Those are far too many sparks for Grougaloragran’s liking…”

His brother just waved his hand dismissively with a psh sound, not once tearing his hazel eyes off his task. “You worry too much, Brother. According to what I read, we just need to weld circuit A and circuit B together and it’ll be perfectly functional—.”

Just then, the cellphone caught on fire.

Amalia screamed, acting on instinct and coming to hide behind the humanoid dragon, who couldn’t help but take a step back in alarm even as he instinctively used his body and spread his arms wide to shield the frightened Sadida Doll.

Jolting in his place, it took a few seconds for Chibi to fully process what just happened. As soon as he did he let out a loud stream of curses and jerked away from the table so fast he knocked over his stool in the process.

This was bad. This was really bad. If the fire got out of control… Even if he didn’t dare finish that thought, his eyes still flickered all over the room and at the very flammable objects held within. All those blueprints, the highly volatile oils and substances they sometimes worked with, the pots overflowing with flowers… His eyes trailed over Amalia’s form, his stomach dropping to his feet as he took in her leafy, green hair, her plant-based clothing, her dark skin that he had seen become raggedy fabric with his own two eyes… Even now he idly wondered if it was some kind of hyper-realistic fabric known only to Sadida or if in turn it was actual skin.

One stern glare from his twin brought him back to the present and away from his crafting-oriented train of thought.

“Hey, Amalia?” He called out to her, surprising even himself with the relative steadiness of his voice given the circumstances. “Given you're a Sadida Doll, will you burn?”

Wide, alarmed eyes darted back and forth between the Eliatrope and the quickly increasing fire in utter disbelief for a few seconds, her shock slowly hardening into outrage as she steadily lost her grip on her emotions. Finally, hysteria took over and she snapped, “I don't know, but I don't feel like finding out!”

“Good point.”

“Chibi, now is not the time for idle conversation!” Grougaloragran groaned, incredulous. He loved his brother to death, he really did, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would be the death of him. Although, if he could choose, preferably not in a fire of their own making if it was possible. “Do something about the fire!”

“It’s alright! There is no need to panic!” Chibi tried to reassure them. Not wasting a second, his hazel eyes began to scan the room with renewed purpose. There had to be something he could use to put out the fire, but what? As he kept one watchful eye on the growing flames, he racked his brain for every single fact he knew about fires, trusting his vast experience with lab-related accidents to come through for him and give him an idea on what to do.

“Okay, Chibi. You got this.” He told himself, taking yet another cautionary step backwards and away from the burning table. “Fire. We’re dealing with fire. And what do we know about fire? We know it’s the rapid oxidation of a material in the exothermic chemical process of combustion, releasing heat, light, and various reaction products. The flames are the visible portion of the fire, and they are made of carbon dioxide, water vapor, nitrogen and… Oxygen! Fire needs oxygen to burn!”

Eyes widening at that crucial piece of information, the white-haired Eliatrope didn’t waste a single second. He reached for the clasps of his dark cloak and tore it off, revealing the golden plates protecting his upper body and the black bodysuit he wore underneath. He didn’t have to worry about uncovering his head since his ever prepared mind was always two steps ahead; he had long decided it was far more convenient if instead of wearing a hooded cape he sewed it onto his bodysuit. That way he could move more freely in combat without having to feel even more exposed.

He was so focused on putting out the fire with the discarded piece of garment, he didn’t hear Amalia’s disappointed whine. More glaringly, however, was the fact that Grougaloragran’s warning came too late, “Chibi, no! Wait—!”

“Huh?”

Just as he turned his head around to send a questioning look at his dragon twin over his shoulder, the Eliatrope flinched when the crackling sound of the flames only intensified, alongside Amalia’s high-pitched cries. Heart thumping wildly in his chest, he whirled his head back around so fast it was a miracle he didn’t give himself whiplash, only to confirm what he already feared; somehow, trying to deprive the fire of oxygen had only made things worse.

“But I don’t understand!” He exclaimed as he came to stand beside Grougal and Amalia. His eyes wide and frantic. “Without oxygen, most fires die and fizzle out on their own! My cape should have done just that!” He complained when Grougaloragran, face contorted into the most equally aggravated and frantic expression he had seen on his face in a really long time, smacked him on the back of his head.

“Grougal, now is not the time to devolve into barbaric behaviour! We have a fire to put out!”

But the dragon’s unamused frown only deepened something fierce. “Chibi.” He started after a deep exhale from his nose. His last attempt at remaining calm. “Care to remind Grougaloragran what you used to deprive the fire of oxygen?”

It was Chibi’s turn to frown, only he was just confused. “Why, my cape, of course.”

His two index fingers clasped and tapping them against his nose, the dragon hummed. “Right. You mean the same cape you often use to clean your hands off the many substances we work with? Including highly flammable ones?”

The Eliatrope had the decency to blanch as realisation dawned on him. “Oh.”

“‘Oh’ is right.” Grougaloragran deadpanned.

Amalia could only look back and forth between the quarreling brothers, incredulous, all the while she grew poignantly aware of the growing fire that wouldn’t take long to reach them just a few metres away from them. Somebody needed to do something, and they were done for if those two didn’t get their priorities in order.

“Guys!” She screeched, finally drawing their attention, the two of them blinking down at her in clear surprise. Amalia tried to let the fact that they’d clearly forgotten she was even there in the first place slide. For now. They had more pressing matters to tend to. “Hate to interrupt, but in case you forgot, there’s a fire in the middle of your workshop!”

Flinching at the reminder, the two of them had the decency to look chagrined for a moment, before the severity of the situation dawned on them and they shook their heads in unison. They had to focus.

“Any ideas on how to deal with that?” Chibi asked.

Grougaloragran shook his head, while Amalia said, “I’m afraid I can’t do much either. My powers are connected to plant-life; I highly doubt my vines will be of much help save for serving as kindling.”

She silently cursed her luck. All that training with Master Glip to be able to think fast in times of crisis, and the first threat she faced without Yugo by her side had to be the only one where she was virtually useless. Ecaflip had to be having a field trip with her.

The dark-haired dragon raised an eyebrow. “What about your dolls? You said they can be used for a great variety of purposes, including clearing the air from toxins.” But Amalia just shook her head sadly at his suggestion.

“While it’s true I could use my dolls to try and absorb the fire, they’re all in my garden at the moment. Too far away from me to summon them. And I’m still working on developing the seeds needed to create a bunch of portable, rapid-growth ones. They won’t arrive on time.”

“Wait, that’s it!” Chibi startled his two companions, an idea already forming in his mind. He pointed at the fire and instructed, “Grougal, blow the fire!”

“What?!” The dragon sputtered. “Chibi, you know Grougaloragran cannot do that! If he does, all he will do is breathe fire, which will only make matters worse!”

“Yeah… I don’t think the whole ‘fight fire with fire’ thing will really be useful in this context…” Amalia had to agree, air-quoting.

Chibi smacked his head, cursing himself for his inappropriate wording. “Wait, no, that’s not it. I meant the opposite of blowing!”

“You mean breathe in?” The doll offered.

“Yes, exactly!” He turned to Grougal. “Brother, you are a dragon! Fire cannot hurt your lungs. If anyone can inhale the fumes and the flames and come out unscathed, that’s you.”

Grougaloragran’s eyes widened as he realised his brother had a point. He had to at least try. With a confident nod, he strutted closer to the burning table, the fire spreading all over the small space yet thankfully remaining relatively controlled for the time being. Firmly planting his feet on the sleek surface of the floor, the dragon took a deep breath, his back arching as he inhaled all the air around him and, with it, the flames. His throat felt a little scratchy from the smoke and the tongues of fire licking at his esophagus, but he pushed through. He’d had worse whenever the chef felt like cooking something spicy for dinner.

He didn’t stop until he was sure he had everything. Only then did he swallow the hot sensation back down, a small burp escaping him and tendrils of smoke peeking out of his nostrils as he apologised sheepishly.

And just like that, the crisis had been aborted. They could finally release the collective breath of relief they had all been folding.

“See, I told you there was no reason to panic.” Chibi said, standing proud with his hands on his hips.

Only for the fire to start up again no sooner had the air left their lungs.

“Okay, time to panic.” The Eliatrope squeaked, eye twitching.

And panic they did.

Any semblance of calm and level-headedness flew right out of the nonexistent window at the sight of the persistent flames, all that was left was collective hysteria. The three of them began to run around in circles like headless chickens all around the area, their arms flailing wildly around them as they screamed.

Well, Amalia was going in circles and flailing her arms around, her green ponytail a frazzled mess. Chibi and Grougaloragran were standing face to face as the latter repeatedly shook the former by the shoulders, all the while the Eliatrope kept smacking his twin in the forehead, both of them frantically yelling at the other to ‘Think, think, think!’

They all froze when the crackling got more intense, hazel, golden, and brown eyes owlishly and comically large as they observed the flames grow higher for a few agonising seconds. Only for all Shukrute to break loose when the fiery tongues started making their way towards them.

And to think it all came from an object the size of their palm!

Rushing forward to the other side of the workshop in a blind panic, only to collide against the walls, not for the first time that day Amalia had to bite back her personal, very justified opinion on how ironic and downright moronic was that a pair of design enthusiasts like Chibi and Grougal didn’t think it appropriate to have windows in their own work zone. Lips pursed into a tight line that only barely kept her groaning at bay, she punched the wall in frustration, grimacing at the ache coursing through her fist right after.

Her face contorted in pain, she shook her hand in hopes of ridding it of the unpleasant sensation when she caught sight of a blinking light from the corner of her eye. Doing a double take, she snapped her head to the side, where she stood, frozen and cursing their clear struggles with working under pressure, slapping a hand against her forehead.

Because right as there was a fire going on around them, one they had no idea how to put out, Chibi and Grougaloragran were busy trying to save their many ongoing projects, prototypes, surviving tools, and books. The dragon scurried to grab as much as he could into his large arms, only to then unceremoniously drop them into the portal his Eliatrope twin kept open as he told him to hurry up or not to forget certain things.

Amalia could feel her eye twitch.

Mustering every ounce of self-control she possessed not to screech at them, she uttered, her voice deceivingly calm, “Chibi, aren’t you an Eliatrope?”

The aforementioned Eliatrope and his dragon twin halted in their task long enough to send her a confused glance. Now wasn’t the time to be playing ‘Captain Obvious’!

“Um, yeah? Obviously.” He shared a bewildered glance with Grougal, mentally asking each other if the stress had got to her and she had officially lost it. “Why do you ask?”

“Then why don't you just open a portal to get rid of the faulty prototype that threatens to burn us alive?!” She couldn’t take it anymore, she finally screeched, one hand pointing meaningfully at the ‘faulty prototype’ in question while her own glare burned holes into the twins’ skulls.

Eliatrope and Dragon just blinked, the latter still carrying as many salvageable things as he could in his arms while the former kept the portal open. After a beat where the very irate doll’s words sank in, their mouths formed a perfect ‘o’ shape.

“…Huh. Good call.” Chibi conceded at last.

“Chibi!” Amalia snapped, urging him to wake up and do something.

“Right, right.” Raising his palms up, he dropped the portal he had already created and redirected his hands towards the table holding the source of their anxiety. Hands facing towards the fire, he willed a small vortex of wakfu to materialise right beneath the more than busted cellphone, the swirling energy engulfing it and, unbeknownst to them, scaring the living daylights out of a family that had been lounging around in the shore while on a beach outing as it unceremoniously plopped right into the ocean without a warning.

And just like that, the fire was gone. This time for good.

After a beat and making sure nothing else would suddenly combust, all Grougal could do was deadpan, “…Grougaloragran and Chibi cannot keep postponing to install a system of sprinklers in their workshop. It would have saved them a lot of trouble.”

All the air leaving her lungs in one enormous sigh of relief, Amalia fell down to the floor, the stressful experience leaving her practically boneless. “Oh, thank Sadida! I thought I was a goner for good!”

“Hey! Not to be disrespectful, but I’m the one who saved the day!” Chibi felt the need to point out, only for the doll’s unforgiving glare to shut him up.

Grougaloragran shrugged, letting out a heavy sigh, “Back to the drawing board. Clearly, Baltazar’s books were wrong.”

But Chibi just shook his head. “Nah, his books are never wrong. My money’s on the materials being the problem. Clearly, we still haven’t found the right replacements.”

Her heartbeat back to normal, Amalia perked up at that, her interest piqued. She raised to her feet, her head tilted to the side in curiosity, as she took a few cautious steps towards the two inventors. “What do you mean the materials are the problem? And why are you talking about replacements?”

The Eliatrope gestured with his hand for her to get closer, before picking up a half-burnt piece of scrap metal from the scorched table—not without yelping and blowing hurriedly at it to cool it off—and showing it to her.

“Cellphones are made with a special type of mineral known as ‘Eliatan’.” He began to explain. “It’s essential for them to work, as it channels the wakfu around them so the device becomes receptive to the radio waves coming from the Wakfu Core, hence, allowing the cellphone to connect to the Wik-Fi Network.”

Grougal continued, “Eliatan was fairly common in our homeworld, but apparently nonexistent here.” After a moment’s worth of consideration, he added, “Although, that isn’t necessarily surprising. After all, the Great Goddess is the source of all wakfu in the universe; it is only natural a world of her creation meant for her people would be more closely connected to life energy than one where no one worships her.”

Amalia didn’t have time to process that piece of information before Chibi went on with the improvised lecture:

“Even the inanimate objects were charged with wakfu!” The white-haired Eliatrope pointed out. Then he turned back to Amalia. “We’ve been trying to look for similar materials to build our new cellphones from, but there just doesn’t seem to be any homologues here on the World of Twelve. We thought we could always change our approach and that maybe the answer would be elsewhere, but…” He trailed off.

“Clearly, we were wrong.” Grougal finished for him with a huff.

Amalia didn’t know what to say, she didn’t know what to even do. She really wished she could help them, but she was a Sadida Doll, her specialty was plants, not machines. She feared there really was nothing she could do to solve the problem. The realisation sent a painful pang to her heart; it was clear if Chibi and Grougal were so insistent on seeing this particular invention through, it had to be important.

Just then, as she was about to offer her condolences to the twins, she registered a faint motion from the corner of her eye. Following her line of sight, she took notice of a small petal falling from the flower pots located above their small station. An eager grin lifted her lips as an idea came to mind.

“Then why don’t you stop trying to use inanimate objects?” She blurted out, startling the twins out of their conversation.

“Come again?” Grougal said, raising an eyebrow.

Amalia pushed through. “You said the World of Twelve is not as charged with wakfu as your homeworld, so there aren’t any raw materials that can channel its energy like you want them to, correct?”

They both nodded, trying to understand where she was getting to.

“Then why don’t you try using materials that do have wakfu? Shouldn’t that make things easier?”

Chibi and Grougal exchanged a look of surprise, before turning their gazes back ahead as they pondered her hypothesis. “In theory,” Chibi began, his voice laced with caution, “that could work. After all, that does guarantee the wakfu will flow better. But what could we even use to achieve that? We can’t just take animals and use them as living batteries!”

“It would be extremely inhumane.” Grougaloragran agreed solemnly.

“Then how about plants?” Amalia smirked. Then, under their astonished gazes, she stepped closer to the hanging pots and stood on her tippy toes as she gingerly picked one of the flowers up and presented it over to them. “Wakfu flows through plants naturally, and this way you could plant them all around the island in order to have a wide network. As for how humane it is…” She shrugged, trying to hide her own unease. “Well, it depends on if the process would hurt or not, and whatever the answer, we could always ask them first.”

“It wouldn’t hurt.” Chibi blurted out so fast he surprised even himself. “Unless we’re talking about a very high dose, enough to far exceed a mortal’s limits, having wakfu ‘injected into your system’,” he air-quoted, “feels more like a boost in energy than anything.”

“Then, what are we waiting for?” Amalia smiled. “Let’s give these little ones a boost.”

“But Grougaloragran and Chibi aren’t botanists.” The dragon pointed out. He hated to be the one poking holes at their plan, but they couldn’t keep going in blindly about it. It would be too risky. “We do not know how to make this work.”

“Luckily for you, I do.” The doll grinned proudly, bringing a hand to her chest. She looked back down at the flower in her hand and gently caressed it with a finger. “I can use my magic to better prepare it for the energy intake, but I will need you to infuse it with wakfu. As you said, the World of Twelve is different to your homeworld, even if life energy flows through plant-life—.”

“It might react differently to the waves coming from the Wik-Fi Network.” Chibi finished for her, eyes widening as he finally understood where the doll was trying to get at.

If Amalia was right, that could indeed be the answer to their problems! All they would need to do was to develop a new species of flower—which should be a piece of cake with a Sadida Doll by their side—and plant them all over Oma Island. It certainly was different from usual, maybe it would even pose a bit of a challenge, but the possibilities were endless…

He turned to his dark-haired brother. “What do you say? Wanna give it a try?”

After a moment of consideration, Grougal just shrugged. “It can’t be worse than almost setting the workshop on fire…” A puff of air escaped him when an enthused Chibi excitedly grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him flush to his side in a side hug. But even as he rolled his eyes at his twin’s antics, the dragon couldn’t help the small, affectionate smile that formed on his lips.

Now that they had Grougaloragran’s approval, Chibi and Amalia grinned at each other with starry eyes, a sense of anticipation bubbling up inside them. The Eliatrope didn’t waste any time coming to stand beside the doll.

“So, what do you need us to do?”

Amalia looked down at the flower in her hands, then at the sleek, metallic floor, and back up at Chibi, her brow furrowed in concentration as she pondered her options.

“Can you get me a pot with some soil in it? I need to plant this somewhere for my idea to work.”

With a nod, Chibi looked over at Grougal, who was already ten steps ahead of him with a small ceramic pot and some ground at the ready. He took it out of his twin’s hands and placed it on the floor and right in front of Amalia, just like she requested.

It was Amalia’s turn. She crouched down in front of the pot and dug into the soil a little bit with her free hand, enough so she could safely place the flower inside it. Glancing up at the Eliatrope, she motioned with her hand for him to follow, silently urging him to come to stand at her eye-level.

Delicately touching the white petals with both hands, she instructed, “First, I’m going to transfer some of my magic to the flower in order to prepare it for the sudden intake of wakfu it’s about to receive. At my signal, I need you to synchronise its energy with the waves coming from the Wakfu Core. Do you think you can do that?”

“Like Grougal said, it can’t hurt to try.”

Knowing that was the best they were probably going to get, Amalia nodded her head and took a deep breath to steady herself. As she let her fingers mindlessly trail over the snow-white petals at her reach, she concentrated on the familiar energy at her fingertips, letting it transfer from the flower to her veins. At the same time as the flower’s wakfu coursed all over her body, she willed her own life force to redirect itself towards the bud, allowing her lips to lift upwards into a small smile as she sensed the process strengthening her little friend’s core and preparing it for what lay ahead.

That ever-present mysterious pull made its presence known once more, but instead of getting distracted by trying to trace it back to its source, Amalia welcomed it, taking advantage of the small energy boost it granted her.

Eyes never leaving the task at hand, she called out for the inventor, “Now, Chibi.”

Acting fast, Chibi placed his own hands on top of Amalia’s. He couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped his throat as he felt the current of wakfu transfering itself both ways. Shaking his head back into focus, he mimicked the doll’s actions, closing his eyes; only he was trying to link the flower’s energy with the waves coming from the Wakfu Core.

After what felt like an eternity of futilely searching and fearing they would have to give up, a jolt ran down his system.

That was it. That was the core’s signature!

Refusing to let it slip away, Chibi reached out for the wave of energy he just sensed and mentally pulled. He pulled with all his might until the links between the flower and the core were within touching distance and, with one final push, he tied them all together.

Grougaloragran’s astonished gasp was the only thing that broke them out of their trance.

Hazel and brown eyes snapping open in surprise, all Amalia and Chibi could do was stare in gleeful disbelief at the sight in front of them. The flower’s stem had grown exponentially, to the point it now probably reached past their waists if they stood at their full height. While it had yet to fully bloom when Amalia had picked it out, its beautiful white petals were now open wide and proud, revealing a beautiful, blue swirling vortex where the seeds used to be.

“Did it work?” The doll asked, equally parts fascinated and apprehensive by their possible scientific breakthrough.

“Only one way to find out.” Grougaloragran said, reaching a hand out towards the flower. Closing his eyes, he projected his own wakfu onto the plant and waited. After a beat where a heavy silence reigned over all three of them, the dragon’s golden eyes snapped open when he heard the telltale sound of a working phone line on the other end of the connection.

“It… It works!” He exclaimed, his voice tremulous, as if he couldn’t believe it himself. And he certainly wouldn’t have believed it hadn’t he heard it for himself.

Chibi and Amalia broke down in celebratory cheers at the news, hugging each other tightly for their successful teamwork, each of them insisting it was all the other’s doing and that they had merely helped. They even brought a still catatonic Grougal into the hug, the sudden action snapping him out of it as he half-heartedly tried to pry them off of him, the grin never leaving his face no matter how much he tried to hide it.

After they calmed down a little, remembering they wanted to establish an island-wide network, with a swirl of her hand over the flower’s centre, Amalia summoned a sizable amount of seeds she then entrusted to the inventors. All they needed to do was plant them around Oma and their Wik-Fi Network would be good to go!

And with that, they all bid each other goodbye for the time being, still buzzing from their success.

As the doll left the workshop for the day, secretly hoping she wouldn’t have to come back in a really long time despite her giddiness at having been of help, all three of them failed to realise the books she originally came looking for were laid forgotten on the table she’d been seated at upon arriving. Or the fact that Baltazar didn’t ask for them when he met up with either of them later on.

.........................................................................................................................

The upside of living on a tropical island was that temperatures tended to remain cool and pleasant. Even at night, whenever a storm wasn’t brewing, the air would remain consistently warm, with only the slightest bit of crispness as gentle breezes ensured the heat wouldn’t become unbearably stuffy. Not to mention the clear view of the beautiful stellar canvas shining above the territory, guiding sailors and travellers alike to safe port, as well as providing wonderful scenery for anyone out and about. Something to get lost gazing at.

But even idyllic landscapes weren’t immune to cloudy weather, even when the weather was nice. And dense clouds traversing harmlessly through the dark canvas of the nighttime sky was the perfect cover when one wanted to do some surveillance without being noticed.

While the dark plumage all over her body offered great camouflage, the same couldn’t be said for her wings—between their rather striking colouration and her considerable wingspan, remaining hidden as she glided over the island was proving itself to be more trouble than she had originally anticipated. But it had to be done. While she usually didn’t like to get involved until the right time had come, she was the only one with the aerial skills required for her current mission.

If they wanted to learn more about Amalia and the Eliatropes, they couldn’t afford to wait until they were allowed into the next political gathering. If they wanted information, they had to go straight to the source and get it themselves.

Coqueline had offered to send her seagulls once again to keep watch and to report back to them, but her leader quickly dismissed the idea. As useful as the demigoddess Osamodas’ powers were for stealth and infiltration missions, especially when they could just send a seemingly unsuspecting animal to gather intel for them, it was a risk they couldn’t take at the moment. Not after that periwinkle, legless dragon seemed to have sensed they were being watched, even if he apparently didn’t figure out the birds flying around Oma were the cause of his unease.

With one mighty flap of her wings, she abandoned her hiding spot and ventured a little closer to the palace, all the while keeping a sizable distance in case she needed to retreat. Her sneaky eyes narrowed as they took in the light coming from what Coqueline had assured her were the Sadida Doll’s chambers. Although they weren’t exactly easy to miss—it was the only room in the entirety of the palace that more closely resembled a greenhouse than someone’s private quarters.

She bit back a low curse. While there was light coming from inside and the shadows reflected on the walls indicated movement, Amalia remained out of sight. Her nightly routine most likely took place away from the balcony or the large windowpane leading to it. And to make matters worse, she was beginning to get tired. Though she wasn’t a stranger to remaining afloat for extended periods of time, she was beginning to yearn for a place from where to perch herself to, but alas, the Brotherhood’s goal wouldn’t allow it.

Not when she could become an easy target with her talons gripping a railing.

Her mother must have been paying attention to her plight and, as always, decided to remain completely unhelpful to her child, for just as she tried to get a little bit closer to get a better look at Amalia’s room and the doll herself, she caught movement from the corner of her eyes.

Head swiveling to the side, her bright yellow orbs shrunk significantly as she caught sight of a humanoid white-and-blue dragon headed her way. The snarl on his maw and shining blue eyes alerting her that, much like the periwinkle dragon, he must have sensed her, draconic wings fluttering almost frantically as he searched for the intruder and possible threat. Momentarily frozen on the spot, she vaguely remembered Count Harebourg identifying an identical-looking dragon as King Yugo’s very own twin and right-hand man, which would only seal her fate if she were to be caught, before snapping out of it and commencing her retreat.

But even as she used the dark veil of the night to cover her tracks and hide herself from view, the Eliatrope dragon was relentless in his pursuit. Only a few metres of distance kept her from getting captured and their plans being put in jeopardy. Then, as she failed to lose her pursuant even after diving headfirst towards the ocean, only to do a feint at the very last second and ascend once again, she couldn’t help but slap her forehead in frustration when she realised his enhanced senses—the same that had allowed him to recognise her presence in the first place—most likely meant he had locked in on her.

It would take nothing sort of a miracle to escape.

The wind whipping through her locks, she frowned and groaned in resignation. She was hoping she wouldn’t have to resort to this, as it would risk her anonymity and temporarily unveil her identity, but it was shaping itself up to be her only chance.

Loathe as she was to admit it, it was better to leave clues behind but to escape than to let yourself be captured.

Thus, with a resigned sigh, she spread her wings wide and concentrated all her power within her very core. As soon as it reached its apex, her energy expanded all over her body, a faint purple light momentarily outlining and emphasising her features. Then, under the astonished gaze of the dragon hot on her trail, a series of particles detached themselves from her body. Taking advantage of the fact that her back was to him, she took one of those particles in her hand, right at the same time as her pursuer came back to his senses and sped forward with the intention of apprehending her.

However, just as she could feel his claws graze her back, there was a bright flash of light that forced her would-be capturer to halt mid-air and shield his eyes. When he lowered his forearm after a few seconds, his jaw dropped.

She had vanished without a trace.

Or so he thought. Blinking rapidly a few times to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him allowed him to realise their runaway intruder hadn’t been as sneaky as she thought. Eyes darting towards the clues she left behind, he didn’t waste a second and dove, reaching out for them.

.........................................................................................................................

Yugo waited in his balcony for Adamaï to come back to report his findings during the night shift of their patrol, barely stifling a yawn. He might be used to waking up with the dawn of day, but that necessarily didn’t mean he couldn’t be tired still. Especially when he stayed up late revising some urgent documents.

Kingship was a full-time job.

The ears on his hood perked up as he finally made out the advancing form of his twin, headed straight towards him. He raised a hand in the air to enthusiastically wave at him, only for his smile to falter at the expression on Adamaï’s face. He was far too alert and on edge for someone who had just pulled an all-nighter.

Something was wrong.

He made sure to ask him about it as soon as he landed in front of him. “Ad, is everything alright?”

Adamaï didn’t beat around the bush, he wasn’t sure they could even afford to, “I caught someone spying on us last night.” He winced as he forced himself to look his brother in the eye for what he was about to reveal, “I found them near Amalia’s room.”

Yugo’s blood turned cold. Eyes flashing angrily and protectively, his voice grew steely, “They ran away, didn’t they?”

“She.” Adamaï corrected him, but that didn’t change the fact that the ‘she’ in question wasn’t apprehended by his side at the moment. “But yes, she ran away.”

“Wait, ‘she’? Ad, did you get a good look at her?” He cursed his luck when his brother shook his head in the negative. But of course, they couldn’t be so lucky so as to at least know who to look for.

Once again, Adamaï could only wince.

“Not exactly… But, I can tell you this much: it wasn’t a Cra. She wasn’t riding any birds like their soldiers.” He rushed out to say, knowing that was Yugo’s next question. Then, he rubbed his neck sheepishly, averting eye contact. “To tell you the truth, Lil’ Bro, I’m not even sure what she was.”

Yugo’s brow furrowed in confusion at his admission. “What can you tell me about her? How do you even know it’s a woman, was it your wakfu vision?”

“Not quite.” The dragon admitted. “Her wakfu definitely hinted at her being female, but I didn’t fully confirm it until I was about to catch up to her, when she ran away.”

The king gestured for him to go on, his arms crossed as he listened to his twin’s retelling intently. He never in a million years would have been able to guess what Adamaï said next:

“Right as I was gaining on her she suddenly… began to glow.” He confessed, moving his arms around and gesturing wildly as if that action would help him convey his story better. “This faint purple glow outlined her whole body, lighting up the night sky, and I could finally make out her form: she was definitely a woman, a winged woman at that, and I’m pretty sure I also saw a pair of horns on her head.

“To tell you the truth, I was so taken aback that it affected my reaction time, because even as I finally shook the shock off and set out to close the distance between us, it was too late.” He heaved a heavy sigh. He looked Yugo square in the eye. “She disappeared.”

The Eliatrope’s eyes widened at the revelation, his stomach churning in worry. A winged, horned woman who was seemingly capable of teleporting herself away had been spying on them, more specifically, on Amalia? That spelled trouble. They would have to double down on their defences and urge their guards to keep an eye out at all times. Not to mention the upcoming headache that would be informing their siblings of the situation. He was most certainly not looking forward to Efrim's response to it in particular.

Even so, he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering. Who could their mysterious intruder possibly be? Or, more glaringly, what? Judging from Amalia’s explanations on the twelve gods and their followers and his experiences with them back in Bonta, no Twelvian filled the criteria needed to identify the woman.

Apparently, the Osamodas were master shapeshifters, though their actual level of skill varied from individual to individual, which would explain the wings and horns. And, now that he thought about it, not only did he remember sensing something odd about their royal family, but one of their princesses was apparently the Sadida’s future queen consort. In other words, it wouldn’t be far-fetched to believe they would have some kind of secret interest in Amalia. But, even so, what about the teleportation spell? As far as he knew, they were incapable of such a feat. That was something only Xelors and his very own people could do. And while he wouldn’t put it past that wretched Harebourg to watch Amalia for his own twisted pleasure—his blood boiled at the mere thought—, it couldn’t possibly be him. Not when Adamaï had identified the spy as female.

That still didn’t explain how she managed to escape, however. A recall potion, perhaps?

“But,” his twin’s words broke him out of his thoughts. “Not all is lost. She left something behind when she ran away.” He said before gingerly dropping something into his king’s awaiting palm.

Yugo stared, wide-eyed, at what he had in his hand, before bringing it to his eye-level to study it more closely. Bewilderment overtook his features as he stared back at Adamaï and back at what he had in hand.

“Black, white, and red feathers?”

35 notes · View notes

geekgirles · 4 months ago

Text

The Doll and the Dragon

Chapter 8: Hostile Takeover

Word Count: 28,297

Read on AO3

Previous/Next

Chapter Summary: "What was supposed to be a success story takes an unexpected turn when Amalia is faced yet again with Efrim's clear distaste for her, much to his sister's chagrin. But as conversations are held, bad memories revisited, and secrets are revealed, Amalia will find out that the most hostile member of the Council of Six's animosity towards her might be rooted in something much deeper. But the real question is, will she be able to come out unscathed from it all?"

“As much as Phaeris hates to question Lady Amalia’s abilities, it has only been two weeks. How could she have made significant progress so soon?” Phaeris mused aloud, his voice laced with scepticism.

“Well, she is a Divine Doll, Brother. Surely her magic must have played an important role.” Mina, who was walking by his side, reminded him gently. The silver curls framing her face bounced with her every step.

“Then she should’ve been done within seconds of stepping foot into the room. It certainly took her less time to remodel her personal quarters.” Chibi pointed out, exchanging a glance with his dragon twin, who nodded.

From that point onwards, the Ebony Dofus twins weren’t quite the same. After what they’d witnessed, the two couldn’t help but keep a safe distance whenever Amalia was around, not keen on her powers startling them again. Much like everyone in the Council had taken to brace themselves whenever it looked like the Divine Doll was about to shapeshift.

“Well, Amalia said she preferred to do things the old-fashioned way.” Yugo, who was leading their march towards the doll’s garden, spoke up. “Maybe that’s why things are growing more slowly?”

Even though that was what he said, the explanation didn’t sound very convincing even to his ears. He, too, had witnessed the things Amalia was capable of with her magic. The fact that she grew giant vines that encircled the room’s pillars in a matter of seconds as opposed to the many years it would have taken had they grown naturally was testament enough of that.

As always, Qilby was quick to point that fact out, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “Last time I checked, some things still took far more time to grow than a mere two weeks. A whole garden being one of those things.”

“Oh, Qilby, there you go again.” Shinonomé chided her twin brother playfully, grasping his shoulder and elbow and squeezing affectionately. “If Lady Amalia has managed to grow her garden in such a short amount of time, all the better! That just means we’ll get to enjoy the fruits of her labour sooner.”

“Shinonomé is right.” Adamaï nodded. Standing close behind Yugo, he had his arms crossed over his torso, his head tilted down as he got lost in thought. “Why look a gifted Dragoturkey in the mouth?”

The Emerald Dofus twins locked eyes and exchanged wordless nods. As expected of a Primordial Eliatrope and his dragon twin, their bond was so deep they could hold entire conversations without so much as uttering a word. Although the psychic link they shared also helped.

While they remained composed and collected on the outside, on the inside both Yugo and Adamaï reminisced on the conversation they had shortly after the king escorted their guest back to her room once she’d been shown to what was to become her garden. The moment Amalia walked into her room and closed the door behind her, Yugo didn’t waste any time in making a beeline with his portals in search of Adamaï, desperate to unload the day’s conversations and worries onto his brother, hoping he’d be able to help him.

As soon as he found him in the palace library, leafing through some tomes now that he had some free time, Yugo did just that, and though startled at first by the severity which his twin spoke with, the dragon still listened intently to his ramblings. Although not before leading his brother to a more secluded area in the library so as to not be overheard by their subjects.

As expected, no one understood him quite like the blue-and-white dragon. He told him everything, from his conversation with Qilby and his idea to have Amalia grow everything they needed under the guise of allowing her to reconnect with her culture, to Amalia’s eventual acceptance of the role she would play and eagerness to carry it out. He didn’t even spare any details when explaining his guilty conscience over potentially taking advantage of the Divine Doll, either, nor did he omit how grateful and relieved he felt now that things were out in the open.

Adamaï had to admit, he also felt very relieved to know his brother had come clean about his intentions and Amalia had agreed to help in turn. Beyond relieving the burden on their people’s shoulders by making their survival easier, the dragon knew how important her consent was to Yugo.

He wouldn’t dare say it aloud, for he knew his twin would vehemently deny it and outright clamp up on the subject, but it was plain to see he cared about the doll immensely. Her disapproval would affect him deeply. That much was obvious from the way his shoulders, taut with tension and stress, sagged in relief as he recounted his later conversation with her.

Therefore, besides fully believing in Amalia’s capabilities himself—it was a bit hard to be sceptical after both witnessing and being on the receiving end of her power’s full extent as he had—, he would support her, for Yugo’s sake. Although, deep down, he had to admit that this being Qilby’s idea caused him to have some reservations. While he could admit to seeing where the eldest Eliatrope was coming from, he couldn’t help but feel a little apprehensive. Despite the good he and Shinonomé did for their people, there was something about him that hadn’t been the same ever since they arrived at the World of Twelve and decided to make the planet their new home.

At least he wasn’t anywhere near as distrustful of everything and everyone as Efrim.

It was precisely the latter’s twin sister, Nora, who broke Adamaï out of his thoughts. “It was about time we gave our subjects some good news. I’m sure they will be ecstatic once we inform them of Amalia’s progress.” She called out to her brother slithering over the floor right in front of her, hope tingeing her voice. “Right, Efrim?”

The periwinkle dragon simply grunted with a shrug in response, causing an uneasy knot to tie itself in Nora’s stomach. Around them, their older siblings all braced themselves for what he was sure to say next.

“Perhaps.” The youngest dragon finally said. “Although it wouldn’t be unwise to keep an eye on her, in case we just unwittingly provided her with the perfect method to execute her true orders.”

The moment the words left his mouth, the entirety of the Council of Six visibly tensed up and unconsciously halted in their march, all turning to look at him with varying levels of concern. Some of them soon chose to mask them, even now, knowing there was nothing the youngest dragon hated more than being pitied or regarded like that. He huffed through his snout at his siblings’ reactions, unfortunately far too accustomed to them not taking his warnings seriously or treating him like he was made from glass.

Stealing a glance his sister’s way, he soon averted his gaze once more and scoffed. No matter how much she tried to hide it, his scars were nothing like Nora’s. He still studied his siblings’ expressions from the corner of his eye.

Both Qilby and Shinonomé chose not to say anything or even show any kind of reaction to his words, they just remained where they stood, with their arms crossed inside the folds of their tunics and the dragoness’ tail swaying back and forth. After them, Mina and Phaeris were the most subdued—they simply exchanged remorseful glances, with Mina shaking her head ruefully while Phaeris tucked his wings closer to himself in discomfort.

Chibi and Grougal were less in sync, though their reactions still showed their own unease at their little brother’s mistrusting nature. While Chibi audibly winced, Grougaloragran pinched the bridge of his nose with his claw, not sure what else to do. For his part, Baltazar was about to speak up in defence of the Sadida Doll, but a pointed look and the shaking of his head from Glip dissuaded him from trying, so, with a sigh, he focused back on trying to avoid crashing into anything due to his large girth.

Up ahead, panicking slightly at what Efrim said, Adamaï didn’t waste any time trying to reach out to Yugo, placing a claw over his shoulder to silently urge him to keep a cool head and not do anything rash that he might regret later. Fortunately for him, his attempts seemed to be working, for even though the Eliatrope King couldn’t help but tightly clench his fists and grit his teeth in aggravation, he held himself back from starting yet another argument with Efrim like the one from back when Amalia had just arrived at Oma.

Something told him Mina would not be as willing to break up their argument in a peaceful manner as back then. He could already picture the wakfu spear jabbed into the nearest wall in warning.

Truth be told, Yugo was torn. Torn between speaking up and standing up for the selfless creature that had been sent to them and who only wanted to help, and sticking by his sibling, especially when they all shared his concerns deep down and he wasn’t entirely without reason for thinking like that.

Not for the first time, the Eliatrope found himself with two opposing forces warring within him for dominance. Fairness opposed Loyalty. Past Experiences contradicted New Beginnings. Resentment threatened to overtake Hope.

And it all was up to him to choose who won.

But he mostly contained himself, knowing what he was going through was nothing compared to his little sister. Even if she hid it better because she picked up the rear of their little entourage, the Council of Six didn’t even need to look back to know no one was as affected by her brother’s words as Nora.

The pink-clad Eliatrope could only look on sadly at her twin’s back. The light in her otherwise playful pink eyes dimming the more she stared, his words echoing in her mind like a haunted melody. And yet, she couldn’t keep herself from sympathising with him, from understanding his concerns and even siding with him, no matter how much she wished to be able to confidently say he was wrong.

She just couldn’t. Because, just like Efrim could be wrong, he could be right, and the consequences of ignoring his warnings and brushing them off as mere paranoia wasn’t a price their people could afford to pay. Not after losing so much already.

Still, what really gnawed at Nora, what shattered her heart into a million pieces as if it were made from glass, wasn’t the fear of what could happen. But the knowledge of what did. The knowledge of what their people lost, of what she and Efrim lost.

As much as she tried to convince herself otherwise, the youngest Council member couldn’t help but fear they might never get it back, despite their best efforts.

Was there something worse than staring in the mirror and not recognising yourself?

It didn’t take long for her silence to draw everyone’s attention, their eyes reflecting waves of sympathy over their youngest siblings’ plight, especially Nora’s, who was saddled with dealing with her brother whenever he got into one of his moods. As a matter of fact, even Efrim himself couldn’t bring himself to look over his shoulder and hold his sister’s gaze, the sadness in Nora’s eyes stabbing his heart like a dagger, but he shook it off.

She’d get over it and see things from his point of view. She always did.

Golden eyes darting from one sibling to another, Grougaloragran inwardly winced. How he hated when he was forced to break up the tension. Emotions just weren’t his forte.

And so, clearing his throat awkwardly to get the Council’s attention, he lamely jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, his fanged smile strained despite his best efforts to appear friendly and laid-back. “Um… Should we continue?”

After a beat where the Council of Six blinked in surprise and Shinonomé had to glare at her brother so he wouldn’t comment on the black dragon’s awkwardness, Yugo shook his head, walking past Chibi’s twin and in the direction they were headed in the first place, Adamaï close behind him as everyone else followed his lead.

He sighed. “Yes, let’s. Amalia must be waiting for us.”

The awkward tension hanging heavily over their heads as they made the trek towards their new garden feel nothing short of torturous and endless. Seeing as Efrim still stubbornly refused to retract his previous statement or even speak up, causing a disheartened Nora to further retreat into the crevices of her own mind with each passing second, the rest of the Council decided to remain quiet as well so as to not risk stoking the flames.

Despite his apparent displeasure, Mina had intimidated Efrim into behaving as soon as they reached their destination, so he would refrain from saying anything while in the presence of the Divine Doll. As much as the mere thought of playing nice with her made his skin bristle, that was nothing compared to the way it crawled every time his older sister’s stern glare flashed through his mind.

The Twelvians were truly lucky Mina didn’t share her brothers’ battle-hungry nature—otherwise, she would be a fearsome opponent, utterly ruthless. Same with Phaeris, in fact, who preferred to lead a peaceful existence unless it was absolutely necessary.

After what felt like an eternity, Yugo finally stopped right in front of the large double doors leading to his little doll’s new playground. Despite his best efforts to hide it, the periwinkle dragon’s snout still curled into a quiet snarl before shaking it off, a puff of hot air emanating from his nostrils. Squaring his shoulders up, he readied himself for the very unpleasant times ahead.

“Well, this is it…” Yugo announced unnecessarily. With an encouraging squeeze of his shoulder from Adamaï, their king raised his hand to knock on the smooth surface of the door.

The apprehension gripping at his heart tightly somehow amplified the sound, causing the soft knocks to echo in his ears to the beat of his uneven heartbeat.

After what felt like another eternity, even though it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, the doll’s cheery voice beckoned them from inside.

“Come on in!”

Efrim’s eyes narrowed in disgust when he took notice of the dopey smile that broke into Yugo’s face at the sound of his ‘guest’s’ voice. More so when he caught wind of the others sharing knowing, pleased glances. The only ones who remained unaffected were Qilby, Shinonomé, and, weirdly enough, Nora.

The dragon forced himself not to dwell too much on that. He knew his sister enough to understand her mind was certainly elsewhere—under any other circumstances, she would not have hesitated to tease their king for his reaction with an almost impish glee—and he wasn’t in the mood to try and dissect what troubled her.

“Well, you heard the lady!” Chibi shrugged, reaching out to grab the handles, “Let’s go!”

However, before his hands could so much as grasp the handles, the door opened on its own accord, causing everyone gathered to take a step back in surprise. The clear shock they felt remained etched onto their faces when a pair of vines revealed themselves as the ones responsible for letting them inside, their green stems waving back and forth in a cheerful greeting before gesturing for them to come in.

The surprises didn’t end there either.

The Council of Six couldn’t help the parting of their lips in astonishment with every step they took into the garden, their gazes lifted upwards as they took everything in. In a way, it still wasn’t much, certainly not the veritable jungle they had been expecting, which in itself was incredible enough, as well as ironic.

The first thing they noticed upon entering was the feeling of soft, cosy grass tickling their feet, causing them to look down and let out appreciative sounds. Indeed, where a mere two weeks prior the same room held nothing but dirt—albeit a very fertile one that took Chibi and Grougal quite some time to acquire—now was a green mantle, glistening under the afternoon sun and muffling their footsteps.

As their eyes scanned the area, they soon spotted some patches of dirt, each of them ready to begin cultivation as soon as possible. Some even had young stems peeking out from the ground, showcasing Amalia’s progress. Although, truth be told, the weirdest thing by far had to be the dug-out hole in the ground on the far end of the room; some smooth-looking, grey rocks were tidily piled up next to it.

Other than that, which was admittedly a huge improvement from how it had first been just a mere two weeks prior, there wasn’t much of notice. The only other thing worth pointing out was the fact that the vines Amalia had summoned back in the day to encircle the pillars supporting the room were now in bloom. The doll in question tended lovingly to the small, white flowers sprouting from them.

She was perched on another large vine that served as both her personal elevator and chair as she completed her task. Perking up at their arrival, a beaming grin spread all over her face as she greeted them.

“Yugo! Everyone! You guys are already here!”

Without so much as a snap of her fingers, her makeshift ladder was reabsorbed by the very earth it came from, lowering its mistress to the ground as it disappeared from sight. As soon as her feet touched the grassy floor, Amalia clasped her hands in front of her, her entire being radiating with excitement.

“I’m so glad you could make it.” She said. “I’ve been working on getting everything ready all day.”

“Sorry to have kept you waiting, Lady Amalia.” Mina apologised on behalf of the Council; her tone diplomatic as she got a little closer to the doll. “As I’m sure you’ll understand, we had other pressing business to tend to before we could come here.”

Never losing her smile, though it became a little shy under the older woman’s kind gaze, Amalia waved her off. “It’s perfectly fine, Lady Mina. Yugo already told me you didn’t know when you’d be able to spare me some of your time.”

“To be honest,” Yugo chimed in, coming to stand close to her, “there was no guarantee we’d even be able to come today. We’ve all been quite busy…”

Amalia was about to retort when Glip’s mock-stern tone beat her to it, “As a matter of fact, so will you, m’Lady.”

“Baltazar must agree with his brother.” Now that he’d finally squeezed himself into the room—not without a little help from one of Nora’s portals—, Baltazar was quick to add, “Don’t think that just because you’ve been working on official business, you’re spared from handing in your homework next time you drop by the classroom.”

“No, of course not…” Amalia chuckled sheepishly, fidgeting with her fingers. She made it a point to evade her teachers’ gaze.

Truth be told, with her tending to the garden, she had forgotten all about her pending homework. She had a lot of reading and catching up to do. And a report on Eliatrope theology to hand in. One she hadn’t even started on.

“I must admit,” Qilby spoke up as he stepped deeper into the room, his hazel eyes taking everything in from behind his glasses. “I expected a bit more from you, Lady Amalia. Compared to what we have seen from you, this is simply underwhelming.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, her brow furrowed in concern. Growing protective, Yugo stepped a little closer to her, not before sending his brother a warning glare.

Scoffing petulantly at his king’s antics to himself, Qilby had just opened his mouth to protest when a light tap on his arm from Shinonomé made him close it shut. The red dragoness by-stepped her twin and closed the distance between herself and the doll, taking both of her hands in hers in a motherly gesture.

“What my brother means is that, given your natural talents, we’re a little surprised you haven’t turned this enclosure into your own tropical paradise by now.” She explained far more gently. With a smile that was meant to be reassuring, she patted the doll’s dark hands affectionately. “Of course, what you have already accomplished is still incredible. So, please, don’t be too discouraged by Qilby’s words.”

“Qilby’s got a point.” Chibi agreed, with Grougaloragran nodding along. ��After what you did to your chambers, we expected something a bit… more.” They both flinched when Yugo flashed them a scandalised look. Not so much for expressing their opinion as it was about them agreeing with Qilby.

Frowning deeply at his brother’s lack of tact, Yugo was about to come to Amalia’s defence when his twin’s rich voice reverberated around the enclosure, sounding like he was nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Looking up in surprise, they found him flying over the room with his wings outstretched and peering down at them from up above.

Ad wasn’t one to fly for no reason, being perfectly content with walking around. So when he did take flight, it was usually because he wanted to have a more informed look on everything.

“Pay them no mind, Amalia.” He said as he flew from one place to the other, inspecting her handiwork. “You can’t rush these things. And, if you want my opinion, what you have done so far is nothing to scoff at either!”

Yugo smiled at his brother. He could always count on Adamaï to have his back, even when it included supporting a third person.

Amalia surprised everyone present when, instead of growing offended as they expected, she just laughed. Her giggles loud and clear like a bell as they bounced off the walls. Once her laughter had quieted back down, a small smirk spread over her lips and an unreadable glint in her eyes, almost like she knew something they didn’t.

“Oh, trust me,” she started, turning her back on the Council members and stepping closer to the pillar by her side, her hand outstretched as one of its flowers wrapped itself around her wrist. “This is all deliberate. If I wanted to, I could have it all done sooner than you can say ‘leaf’.”

“Then why don’t you?” Phaeris questioned, an eyebrow raised.

This time, it was Yugo who replied, “Because Sadidas prefer to let nature run its course at its own pace. If they can help it, they won't rush anything unless absolutely necessary.”

“Precisely!” Amalia perked up, smiling back at her friend. He actually remembered! Then, she added, “Besides, I already agreed to help you grow whatever you might need, but I can’t do much until you tell me what it is.” She shrugged, extracting her hand from the flower’s hold and placing both on her hips. “So I’ve been mostly buying time and getting everything ready in the meantime.”

Before any of them could question her further, she pointed at the patches of dirt they’d taken notice of before, silently answering their unsaid questions.

“So you have been preparing the ground this whole time?” Grougaloragran asked aloud. When she responded with a nod, he crossed his arms over his humanoid form, satisfied. “Grougaloragran is impressed.”

The doll preened at his praise, “Thank you.”

Efrim, who had forced himself to remain silent lest he risked saying something his siblings would make him regret—and who raised an intrigued eyebrow when he noticed the wordless conversation going on between Qilby and Shinonomé and wondered what that could even be about—almost did a double-take when Nora turned to address the doll.

She remained calm and polite, but that still was a far cry from the exuberance and mischievousness she was well-known for.

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, Amalia,” she rolled her eyes when she spotted Yugo’s warning look. That was more like the twin sister he knew and loved. “But have you been doing anything else?” She allowed a small, teasing grin to curl at her lips as she stared at the doll meaningfully, slowly but surely growing back into her usual self. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I’ll have to tell Glip and Baltazar you’ve been slacking off if this is all you’ve been up to for two weeks.”

The aforementioned educators chuckled fondly at their sister’s joke, along with the student in question.

“As a matter of fact, I have.” She answered back with a playful wink. Strutting confidently around the garden-in-process, she gestured for the Eliatropes to follow her. “Come take a look.”

Yugo didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as she turned her back on them, he was standing by Amalia’s side, complimenting her on what she had done so far. While Adamaï smiled kindly at his reaction, not unlike Mina and Phaeris, Efrim had to force himself to suppress the growl that threatened to leave his throat at the pathetic display. Just a few months with them, and their king would already follow her to the ends of the world.

What was worse, he seemed to be the only one who took the situation seriously! While Adamaï, Mina, and Phaeris seemed to downright approve of their relationship, carelessly overlooking the disastrous consequences it could have, Chibi and Grougaloragran couldn’t help but snicker at their king’s demeanour, whispering among themselves about how Yugo ‘behaved like a lovesick puppy’, and seeing nothing wrong with it!

The only ones who at least pretended to remain professional were the Ivory and Crimson Dofus set of twins. But even then, Efrim knew better than to get his hopes up. Not that long ago, he and Glip had been of the same mind when it came to the doll, and now she was essentially his star pupil!

It was sickening, how she managed to manipulate them all into accepting her with nothing but a smile and an innocent act.

As for his sister…

He chanced a glance her way, but looked away before she could sense his attempts at connecting with her. He shook his head ruefully. His sister hadn’t been the same in a very long time.

Finally, the Sadida Doll stopped in front of a particular patch of grass, one located right beneath the largest windowpane in the whole enclosure, the sun’s golden rays raining directly down on it. She shook her hands in front of her and shifted her weight from one leg to the other, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, clearly readying herself for whatever she was about to do.

She sent them a look over her shoulder, a wry smirk on her lips. “Watch this.”

Immediately after, she slammed her hands down on the grass, coming to bend down on it, and the entire Council took a cautious step back, their guards up. Chibi, Grougal, and Adamaï in particular huddled close together for comfort. They were intimately familiar by now with the fact that things tended to get out of hand whenever Amalia’s palms were in direct contact with the ground. They did not want a repeat of their previous experiences.

However, after a beat, nothing seemed to happen. At most, the afternoon breeze coming from an open window rustled the blades of grass, momentarily disturbing the silence. In response, the Eliatrope and dragon siblings couldn’t do much else besides send each other confused glances and awkward shrugs, flabbergasted by the apparent lack of (literally) earth-shattering developments.

Chibi, who had closed his eyes shut in apprehension, tentatively opened one when he didn’t register any changes. His entire posture relaxing, he let out an audible sigh, relieved. “Phew! That was close—.”

Grougaloragran smacked his brother in the back of the head when, no sooner had the words left his mouth, a dim energy wavelength emanated from the spot Amalia was touching and expanded all over the patch of grass, followed immediately after by a small tremor that reverberated around the garden.

“You just had to jinx it, didn’t you?” The black dragon glared at his brother, huffing through his nose.

“I’m sorry…” The prophet said meekly, his shoulders slagging.

As the Ebony twins bickered, it was Mina who first took notice of something strange. For some reason, the fact that Amalia was back to her full height and beaming proudly with her hands clasped before her chest did nothing to alleviate her worries.

“Look!” She exclaimed, pointing at the grass in front of them after registering movement from the corner of her eye.

When the remaining members of the Council of Six peered over at where their sister was pointing at, they all let out small gasps of surprise at what they saw. From deep beneath the soil, a small, rag-like being literally popped out of the ground, stretching and even yawning cutely before taking notice of its captivated audience. Once it became aware of its surroundings, a beaming smile stretched over its stitched lips, and it eagerly waved at the Eliatropes and dragons before dashing forward to properly meet them.

The nearest person was Mina, so the little creature stopped right in front of her, motioning with its little, fingerless arms back and forth. The silver-haired Eliatrope could only blink in astonishment, completely dumbfounded by this little mystery’s needs.

Then it clicked.

“Oh! You want me to pick you up, little one?”

The little thing nodded resolutely, reaching out to the woman in front of it. Not like it was of much help, given Mina was over a metre and a half taller than it was. Still, she obliged, crouching down slightly to scoop the tiny thing up in her arms.

Before Yugo could so much as open his mouth to ask Amalia what was going on, the earth around them began to all but spit more rag-like creatures, all of them looking exactly the same as the one Mina had in her arms.

Each and every one of them seemed to be made from a beige, rag-like fabric. They had tiny bodies and stump-like limbs, and a comically larger head. Their eyes were white and pupilless, and a thin line stitched along the edges comprised their mouths. A big, star-shaped verdant leaf enveloped their tiny form—three leaves framed their face, while the other two hugged their midsection—, its stem curling after them like a tail.

They were as cute as they were disturbing, and, before they knew it, the Council of Six found themselves surrounded and heavily outnumbered by them.

Qilby’s hands shot up in front of his body in surrender, a bead of sweat running down his temple. “This has got to be the cutest takeover I have ever seen.” He mused aloud, earning himself a quizzical eyebrow from Glip, who brandished his staff in front of his body like a weapon.

“Really? In all our lifetimes, you can’t think of anything cuter?”

“I actually find myself drawing a blank, for once.” He admitted.

A trap! Efrim thought to himself, alarmed. Oh, he knew they couldn’t trust that forsaken doll, let alone leave her to her own devices! If he didn’t do anything, and soon, they were about to pay the price for their complacency.

Snarling furiously at the creatures, his hate-filled gaze strained on the still smiling doll, the periwinkle dragon crouched down low, the grass tickling his softer underbelly. With his long tail coiled around him like a vicious serpent, ready to strike, he set out to unfold his wings and give himself a vantage point from which to deliver a devastating attack.

However, his actions were halted when Yugo, no doubt sensing his intentions and choosing to get in his way for whatever reason, asked, “Amalia, what are these?”

Amalia, who had her focus momentarily stolen by the intimidating young dragon’s strange behaviour, was shaken out of her thoughts by the question. Blinking rapidly, she turned back to Yugo.

“Huh?” Was her eloquent answer.

“These,” the Eliatrope King asked, gesturing down at the little creatures smiling up at him. “What are they?”

“Oh!” That seemed to do the trick. The triumphant grin back on her face, she gestured with both hands at the small army she had literally grown out of her garden. “These are my Sadida dolls. Aren’t they perfect?”

A heavy sense of bewilderment overtook the entirety of the Council, all of them looking at the Divine Doll as if she had just grown a second head. Even Efrim was too flabbergasted to stand up from his position on the floor.

“Um…forgive me if I’m wrong,” Adamaï broke the silence, coughing awkwardly into his claw, “but aren’t you a Sadida Doll?”

“I’m Sadida’s doll.” She corrected, matter-of-factly.

He nodded, at a loss. “Right, right…”

“And you created them?” Phaeris added, staring with an eyebrow raised as a few dolls climbed up his back and swung from his wings. Growing irritated, he groaned and flapped the appendages rapidly to shake them off.

“That’s right.” She nodded.

“So, you’re their mother…” Qilby muttered, only to receive a shake of her head from Amalia.

“Nope.” She said, popping the ‘p’.

“But you just said you’re Sadida’s doll, and we all know he is your father.” Chibi commented, struggling to follow the conversation.

“Father created me as my own being, therefore, he is my father. Sadidas sew their own dolls and are synchronised with them, but they are not their parents.”

“Synchronised…?” Glip could already feel his head spinning.

“Um, Lady Amalia?” Shinonomé called out to her. “I’m afraid we’re going to need you to explain what’s going on. Whatever it is that… this is, clearly eludes us.”

With a patient smile and a nod, the Divine Doll gestured at the Eliatrope Council to take a seat. The latter exchanged confused glances, assuming she meant they sat down on the ground, but they all collectively yelped when each of them was suddenly scooped up by a series of large flowers, their petals arranged so they’d resemble armrests. The only exception was Baltazar who, due to his sheer size in his dragon form, limited himself to contently laying down on the grass with a shrug.

Amalia herself reclined back in the human-sized rosebud she’d summoned with a flick of her wrist. She was surrounded by several of her dolls as she spoke:

“Sadidas are known for their animated dolls.” She started, playing absentmindedly with one of the rag creatures on her lap. “As you can probably guess, it all started as a way to honour Sadida’s creation of his Divine Dolls.”

“Yeah, but… They don’t look anything like you…” Chibi interrupted, earning himself nods of assent from some of the other council members.

“Are you sure?” Amalia shot back, a playful smirk on her lips.

The black-wearing Eliatrope had a very good inkling that it’d be rude to just gesture at the doll’s general direction to bring attention to her very human-looking body as way of answer. So, he pursed his lips in a thin line and simply nodded. “Mm-hmmm…”

Never losing her wry smile but not saying a word either, the Divine Doll simply raised an eyebrow. Then, she disappeared behind a puff of smoke. When the wisps dissipated, in her place was the same dark rag doll they saw in the throne room back when Master Joris ‘introduced’ himself only to eventually extend them an invitation to Bonta.

Now that she was standing beside the other dolls, she turned out to be barely taller than them, and only because of the tuft of green hair on top of her head giving her a few extra centimetres on them.

While Chibi gaped, it was Grougal by his side who voiced his thoughts, “Grougaloragran forgot she could do that…”

Meanwhile, Mina had brought her hands to her face, while Yugo was pinching the bridge of his nose in second-hand embarrassment. The rest of their siblings were trying to contain their laughter at the Ebony Twins’ expense with varying degrees of success. Except for Efrim, who grumbled quietly to himself and burrowed himself deeper into the flower’s folds.

Giggling at their reaction, another puff of smoke enveloped Amalia, bringing back her mahogany curves, and luscious emerald hair. “If you think we Sadida Dolls don’t look alike, Chibi, you should see my older sisters.”

“Huh?”

“Father got better the more he practised.” She explained simply.

“Anyway,” Yugo cut in, desperate to move the conversation along and not to have his siblings embarrassing themselves in front of their guest further. “You were explaining why you created your own dolls, Amalia.”

“Oh! That’s right.” She got a little more comfortable in her seat. “As I was saying, doll crafting became a crucial part of Sadida culture. In fact, alongside nature itself, dolls are a Sadida’s best weapons.”

“Weapons?” Efrim echoed, alarmed. He narrowed his gaze in suspicion on the ragdoll standing at the end of his tail. Squeaking in fright, it immediately scurried off, the dragon’s intense gaze terrifying it to the core. “So, you’re saying these little dolls can actually cause harm?”

Amalia wasn’t faring much better than the doll. If she could, she would be running away from Efrim’s questioning, too. But she didn’t have that luxury.

Swallowing the scared whimper that threatened to leave her throat with an audible gulp, she stammered, “Y-yeah. Th-that’s a way of putting it, I suppose…”

“Explain.” He leaned closer in his seat, his interest (and suspicion) piqued. In the meantime, a quivering Amalia couldn’t help but wonder who anyone was able to make a single word sound like the most threatening of orders.

“Efrim.” Yugo hissed, a blue warning flashing through his eyes. Even Mina was sending him a stern look to get him to ease up on their guest. But their younger brother just ignored them, his focus strained on the squirming Sadida Doll.

“It’s… Um, it’s as I said.” She tried; her voice tremulous under Efrim’s unforgiving scrutiny. “Thanks to the magic used while crafting them, Sadida Dolls are synchronised with their owners, hence, they obey their every wish and command and reflect their masters’ physical state.”

“And that makes them weapons?” He pressed on, like a Bow Wow with a bone.

“Efrim.” Phaeris groaned. Chibi and Grougal were discreetly shaking their heads for the periwinkle dragon to stop.

“Erm, no. What allows them to serve as weapons is their very nature as animated ragdolls. Since they’re not technically alive, they can take hits meant for their master without suffering any real damage, just like they also serve for a wide variety of purposes.”

“What purposes?” Qilby perked up, glad to finally have something to become invested in amidst Efrim’s thinly disguised questioning of the Sadida demigoddess.

“Qilby!” Shinonomé chided her twin, flashing him an incredulous look. She rolled her eyes until they reached the back of her head when all he could do to defend himself was shrug defensively.

Amalia squirmed in her seat, her mouth dry. She was just about to reply when Yugo leaned over and placed his hand on top of hers, smiling at her softly, reassuringly.

Immediately, she felt like she could finally breathe again.

“You don’t have to answer, Amalia. Qilby,” he glared at the bespectacled Eliatrope over his shoulder, “is just being his overly curious, overly annoying self. Don’t pay him any mind.”

“I resent that…” The overly curious and annoying Eliatrope in question mumbled, crossing his arms childishly.

The sincerity, warmth, and care reflected in Yugo’s dark brown eyes was enough to make Amalia want to melt into a puddle of goo, her heart fluttering in her ribcage at the out he was giving her, knowing his family was making her uncomfortable.

Her eyes fell to the ground.

As easy as it would be, she couldn’t take that out. It wouldn’t be right. It was her who had summoned the Council of Six to her garden in order to show them her progress, especially what she’d accomplished with her dolls. She owed it to them, to Yugo, and to herself to see this through, regardless of how uncomfortable Efrim’s attitude towards her was making her feel.

“It’s okay, Yugo. Thanks.” She told him softly, giving his hand a soft squeeze before letting go. “I was planning on telling you guys about it anyway.”

She had to keep her smile from widening when she noticed Yugo hadn’t returned to his seat but had come to stand protectively beside her. Even if she knew it was out of loyalty to his twin, she still felt grateful when Adamaï took his place on the other side of her.

She cooled her features into a calm, confident expression. “To answer your question, Qilby, Sadida dolls aren’t just great at taking hits meant for others, they can also harmlessly inhale toxic substances, grow in size, cushion falls…”

“Sounds like the Sadida equivalent of a Sram army knife.” Nora noted sarcastically, amused. She had to force herself to ignore the betrayed look her twin was sending her for daring to treat the Divine Doll cordially, as well as the pang of pain that threatened to overwhelm her.

“Wait until I grow the explosive ones!” Amalia laughed, already thinking about all the possibilities laid before her. She was so enthralled in her own thoughts, she didn’t notice the scandalised looks from everyone around her.

“…I’m sorry, what?” Adamaï, who had picked one of the dolls up and had been playing with it, asked, dumbfounded. In his unease, he absentmindedly dropped the doll to the floor. Upon hitting the grass, the offended little creature began to wave its fist frantically in his direction and demand an apology from him.

While Ad raised his claws up in surrender at the irate doll, Amalia went on, undeterred, “As I’m sure you can imagine, their versatility, combined with the fact that they obey their master without question, as I already said, makes them extremely useful assets.”

“That goes without question.” Glip agreed, leaning forward with his clasped hands over his knees. “But the better question is, why did you craft them, my Lady?”

That was the question running through everyone’s minds, even Yugo’s. But especially Efrim’s. It was undeniable that there was something very suspicious about what was essentially the god’s peace offering making her own weapons, ones she had just openly admitted were a force to be reckoned with.

Moreover, ones that, due to their very nature, would obey only her, and hence, served no real purpose to the Eliatrope race.

Amalia’s explanation, how she wanted to remain a little closer to her Sadida roots by following one of their most sacred customs as per Yugo’s suggestion, did nothing to alleviate the young dragon’s worries. Quite the contrary, he could feel the pit in his stomach growing deeper and deeper with every second that passed.

She talked about her divine father and sisters and her time in Inglorium. About how, despite his previous feat at literally creating life all by himself, Sadida himself was extremely reluctant to craft any more dolls, even if they weren’t divine—which had to be about the only thing Efrim could believe, judging from the commotion the Leafy God’s youngest child’s birth had caused since the sister preceding her had been born centuries earlier. And how she remembered her sister Dathura—the aforementioned sister that preceded her—had her own horde of loyal dolls she created herself.

He didn’t need Qilby and Shinonomé’s divine gift to know that had to be the flimsiest excuse he had ever heard. As far as he was concerned, manufacturing weapons wasn’t an appropriate way to deal with homesickness!

(Unless you were a Rogue, as he would learn later on).

The whole thing reeked of ulterior motives, and it was becoming damn near impossible to keep himself from roaring in outrage and lunging himself at the Divine Doll to put an end to her machinations once and for all. He was already losing his grip on his worst impulses, if the furious flicking of his long tail was any indication.

But that was nothing compared to how powerless he felt when his siblings chose to remain blind to the clear signs of something sinister going on beneath the surface. Instead, they insisted on giving the doll chances to redeem herself, even though, not that long ago, they would not have hesitated to put an end to their enemy’s misery if it meant protecting their people by any means necessary.

It was as if they simply refused to see what was right under their noses right until the very moment it bit them in the arse.

Somehow, the fact that it was Qilby and Shinonomé who seemed the most understanding of her after Yugo and Adamaï hurt even more. How could they? What happened to their divine gift, the very same one they never stopped alluding to whenever they had the chance? Did they suddenly not remember all the hardships and horrors their people had gone through during the war?

“My, Lady Amalia. You have quite a way to keep your origins close to your heart.” Qilby chuckled airily, leaning back on his seat and adjusting his glasses over the bridge of his nose.

“Indeed. It’s not every day we hear of people crafting weapons to deal with their homesickness.” The red dragoness added, her tail resting on her lap leisurely.

“That’s because you have yet to meet the Rogues.” Amalia pointed out, taking everyone aback by the casualness of her answer. “The only thing they love more than making bombs and setting up ambushes to rob people blind is their family.”

Yugo leaned closer to his twin. “Ad, remind me to never accept an invitation to a family dinner in a Rogue’s home if I can help it.” He whispered.

“Ditto.”

“So, that’s the only reason you’ve been working on your dolls?” Chibi pressed on, examining a doll that had been playfully tugging at his hood closely. As a fellow master craftsman—even if his interests lay elsewhere—, he had to admit they were extremely good quality. And the fact that they were so full of life and yet decidedly not alive was beyond incredible. He flashed an unreadable look at Amalia from underneath his lashes. “To add a little bit of Sadida to your, as of late, Eliatrope-centric existence?”

Smiling softly to herself, growing bashful all of a sudden, Amalia brought a hand to her heart. A sudden prayer to her father to give her strength and help her steel her resolve as she admitted the other reason her little passion project had almost entirely taken over while she waited for further instructions from the Council.

“Truth be told,” she started, her gaze locking with the Eliatrope King’s warm, brown eyes, her grin widening, unbidden. “I actually wanted to contribute to your kingdom in any way I can.”

“But Lady Amalia, Baltazar doesn’t understand. Isn’t this garden supposed to be of help to us in the first place?” The beige dragon pointed out, perking up from his position on the ground. His diminutive wings likewise flattered, a clear sign of his curiosity. “Why would you need to craft your own Sadida dolls, too?”

“Because just like with this garden,” she gestured around, “this way, I feel like I can take on a more active role as I help you gain the Twelvians’ acceptance.”

“By providing us with weapons?” Phaeris found himself asking, sharing a look with his sister. And baring his sharp canines at the dolls that still tried to climb him like some mere monkey bars.

“In case any nation feels especially disinclined to welcoming you.” She retorted, a shadow passing over her features even as she remained the perfect picture of poise and calmness. “By leading my dolls or ordering them to listen to you and your soldiers, your people would gain a new line of defence; one they most likely would not have been expecting.”

Efrims’s eyes almost bulged out of their sockets when Nora said, “Amalia, you really don’t have to go this far for us…”

As the young dragon could only watch the scene, hopelessness and deep-seated resentment taking root in his heart, that forsaken doll had the nerve to smile warmly and gratefully at her, before glancing up at Yugo, her intentions so clear, they could hardly be called hidden.

“You’ve already done so much for me, Nora. Trust me, this is the least I can do.”

Efrim couldn’t take it anymore. Without another word, he slithered out of his seat and dashed out of the door, ignoring his siblings’ calls and questions. But in his haste, he had missed how Nora’s eyes were trained on him, observing his every move. They had been since they agreed on visiting the garden that same morning, in fact.

The pink light of her irises dimming in sadness and regret, Nora pulled her mask up and averted her gaze, not wanting anyone to notice the stray tear streaming down her cheek.

................................................................................................................

Nighttime used to be her favourite part of the day because of the quiet it brought. Well, her favourite part of the day after morning, when the sound of their native world’s birds singing would rouse her from her sleep and make her jump from her bed to kickstart her duties and encourage the rest of their people to abandon Draconiros’ realm and welcome the new day. And after noon, when everyone would gather around the table and feast on the chefs’ mouthwatering cooking while they recounted their daily misadventures, their bellies full and their hearts even fuller. And after the evening, when the sun’s dying rays would shine down on them, the lazy comfort it brought providing a much-needed respite from their hectic days. And dinner time wasn’t nothing to scoff at either…

Thinking back, she used to love a lot of things.

Now, however?

Now she couldn’t be bothered to find the strength to show genuine interest for anything other than her duties and spending some time with her siblings. And even that could be emotionally and physically taxing after a while. Some days she had to force herself to tease Yugo over his refusal to admit his feelings for Amalia lest she risked they noticed something amiss with her.

She couldn’t decide whether it was all because she was on a different planet and needed time to adjust, or if she was the one who was different. It was even harder to accept she might never be the same.

When she first noticed the changes, the vast expanse of the Krosmoz was her unfailing companion, its stars as endless as the doubts plaguing her mind after the war. Suddenly, her people had to find warmth and comfort in the small things, mainly in each other, instead of turning to their Joybringer for help.

Not like she would have been of much help in the first place.

Seemingly overnight, she went from brimming with life, fluttering around to see how she could be of help with her twin dragon in tow, to quiet and withdrawn. Lifeless. Pretty much like their homeworld after it had been ravaged by the horrors they endured. Her siblings, noticing her abrupt change in demeanour, tried reaching out to her, asking if she was okay or if there was anything they could do to help.

She always replied the same:

“I’m fine.”

But one night, or day, or mid-afternoon snack, or even week—it was hard to tell the time with no dawn or sunset—, after another fitful sleep that left her even more tired than when she first laid down to rest; the truth became impossible to ignore.

She was not fine.

Perhaps the fact that her usual cheerfulness and joie de vivre had been overwhelmed by panic, uncertainty, and the will to survive, tempered with her ability to sense it all sooner—the adrenaline coursing through her veins and fuelling her every waking moment shielding her from the effects of her own mental and physical exhaustion—, but she certainly didn’t remember feeling like this ever before. She could have always asked Qilby if there had been a point in their lives where something similar had happened, but she would essentially be admitting something was wrong with her, after all. The sole possibility scared her more than whatever answer Qilby might have provided.

But as soon as surviving stopped being their driving force?

It was as if she had left her soul back on their home planet.

In a way, she had. They all had.

They had essentially left their lives behind.

After a while, she gave up trying to look for answers to her new emotional state. Most of the time she even gave up trying to get some rest—sleep was always eluding her, anyway. So, she settled for spending her nights in quiet contemplation, her eyes, the colour of the Stasis emanating from their father’s almost ethereal form, fixated on the stellar mantle above her head, her thoughts lost in its infinite abyss. Her bed, untouched. If she was lucky, exhaustion would eventually win the battle, causing her to fall into a restless slumber right where she was, with her arms laying across her lap, her back leaned against her window frame while she was perched on the windowsill with one knee close to herself and her other leg stretched out.

And if she didn’t fall asleep… Well, there were some perks to no longer being able to fulfil your duty as your people’s Joybringer; you got to fall asleep wherever and whenever you wanted.

She only had to be careful not to fall asleep during a Council meeting, lest she risked alerting her siblings of her current state. Now wasn’t the time to worry over something as silly as her insomnia.

Of course, there was one sibling she could never hide anything from. Just like his attempts at keeping her in the dark would always be futile.

She didn’t even need to open her eyes to know he was there. Even without the soft sound of his landing inside her room announcing his presence, she would always be able to tell where he was.

“We need to talk.”

Straight to business as always, huh? She honestly didn’t know if the fact that he had changed too should bring a small consolation to her or make her fall deeper into despair.

“Hello to you too, Efrim.” She deadpanned; her pale eyelids shut. “How are you this fine evening?”

“I’m serious, Nora. We need to talk.”

“When aren’t you serious?” She scoffed. With a sigh, she slid her legs over to the side until they were firmly planted on the cold, polished stone of her floor, and hoisted herself up to properly talk to her twin.

Her ivory skin shining under the moonlight while her robes hid her body from sight, the pink of her eyes seemed to shine brightly in the dark. Her gaze as piercing and hypnotic as a Meow Meow’s as it settled on the dragon.

“So? To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“It’s about the doll.” Efrim cut straight to the chase, paying no mind to his twin’s usual sense of sarcasm.

“Why am I not surprised you’d want to interrupt my beauty sleep over that?” She muttered, moving past her twin and towards a small corner of her room. Close to her window but standing on the opposite side to her door, were two wicker loveseats surrounding a small coffee table. A remnant from Nora’s past self, from when she would welcome anyone into her room just to chat amicably between friends; a fragment of herself she chose to keep even now that the only person who visited her room regularly was Efrim.

And usually just to complain. Right as he was about to do.

Really, it was the same song and dance they’d been doing since Amalia arrived. She’d be a fool not to see where he was trying to get at the moment he slithered into her room.

But ranting was Efrim’s way of escaping his own demons, so she let him rant his little heart out. And after today’s events at the garden, she knew he especially needed it.

“Don’t give me that, Nora.” He called her out on her flimsy excuse. A rare, amused smile graced the Turquoise Twins’ lips at the familiarity of their good-natured teasing. It was a small comfort. “We both know you have the sleeping schedule of an owl.”

“Maybe, but I’m still the prettiest owl you’ll ever meet.” She winked at him over her shoulder.

She turned around before taking a seat in one of the loveseats, gesturing with her hand for Efrim to do the same. Despite the exasperated roll of his eyes, the dragon still obliged her, his tail curling around the small sofa. He looked down sceptically at the table, his head tilted.

“No tea and pastries?” He snarked, flashing his sister an unimpressed look, though his smirk betrayed his true feelings.

She shrugged, “I can’t possibly call Serviette over to bring me some snacks in the middle of the night. Now, can I?”

“Last time I checked, out of the two of us you’re the twin who can create portals to move from one place to another…” He pointed out, lazily resting his head over his claw in amusement.

“And last time I checked,” she shot back, her expression morphing into a mock-pout that barely managed to conceal her mirth. “It’s rude to intrude upon others’ chambers in the middle of the night without warning.”

“As if you need to be told beforehand of when I’ll be dropping by…”

Nora blew a raspberry at him.

Efrim just raised his claws up in surrender. “All I’m saying is you’ve lost your touch, Sister; you used to be a much better hostess—.”

He tried cutting himself off the moment his words registered in his mind, mentally kicking himself at his slip up while praying Nora hadn’t been paying attention to him. His heart sank when he realised she very much had, all traces of mirth gone from her face, having been replaced by the quiet melancholy he had seen etched onto her face countless nights now.

A kind of melancholy he was powerless to get rid of for her.

“What was it that you wanted to discuss, Efrim?” Now she was the one cutting to the chase, bringing her cloak closer to herself for comfort.

Another thing that changed was their relationship. While still close as only an Eliatrope and her dragon twin could be, what once was endless laughter and camaraderie now could only be described as profoundly bittersweet, marked by the kind of bond only tragedy could forge between two people and constant pangs of pain resonating to their very core. It was akin to the feeling of constantly cutting yourself while picking up pieces of broken glass.

Only the broken glass once was themselves.

As much as Efrim wanted to reach out to his twin sister and apologise, to offer some words of comfort, he ultimately decided against it. Whenever Nora was reminded of what she’d lost, even if she would rather eat her own hat rather than admit anything was bothering her, she tended to close herself off and detach herself from the world going on around her.

It was a miracle she seemed willing to hear him out still, instead of teleporting him away outright, but then again, she never really kicked him out, no matter how bad things got. They both needed each other as much as a dying man needed salvation.

So, with a shake of his head, he forced himself to focus back on the reason why he came to his twin’s room in the middle of the night in the first place. The doll.

“I don’t trust her.” He said at last, his voice low and serious.

“What else is new?” Nora couldn’t help but snark at his expense, a hint of bitterness in her voice. She came to instantly regret it when her brother just grew more defensive.

“Would you just stop?!” He hissed, his tail coiling further around the loveseat in aggravation, not unlike how a snake would curl around its prey until it suffocated; its tip shaking like a rattle. “This is serious, Nora!”

Rather than dignify his small outburst with a verbal answer, the pink-clad Eliatrope simply motioned for him to continue. Her pink eyes could only follow his form as he all but jumped out of his chair, his serpent-like appendage acting like a spring and propelling him forward. He began pacing frantically in front of her—if one could even pace around without actual legs, that is.

“She’s up to no good, I just know it!” He started, his arms flailing around dramatically as he tried to rationalise the direction their lives had taken ever since arriving on the World of Twelve. “It just doesn’t make any sense. Why would the twelve gods go out of their way to send us the personification of their blessing to stay in their world, especially when their own followers clearly don’t want us here?

“They’re gods! They’re supposed to look after their followers’ best interests above all else! Instead, they’ve essentially put us before the Twelvians…” He shook his head, gripping at it tightly with his claws as the beginnings of a pounding headache overtook him from trying to make sense of it all. “Mother would have never chosen outsiders over us, her children! She loved us more than anything; she would have never abandoned us!”

At the mention of their mother, both Turquoise Dofus twins momentarily stopped and locked eyes before they couldn’t take it anymore and had to look away. Swallowing thickly, overcome with emotion, Efrim’s voice cracked as he spoke of her. “S-she…she didn’t… she wouldn’t…” He swallowed again, his mouth dry and his eyes watery, “She would have never willingly parted from us… She just wouldn’t!”

Fighting back the tears welling up in his eyes—not helped by Nora’s own misty-eyed expression and the clear sounds of her attempts at stifling her own sobs—he went on. He did his best to remain strong and laser-focused on getting his point across, though it was plain to see he remained anything but stoic.

“And even if they indeed just wanted to help us… Why now? Why didn’t they do anything to stop the Mechasms and prevent the war? Surely the combined might of the Krosmoz’s gods would have been enough to put an end to our suffering. But they’re not our gods, they never were. In their eyes, they had no obligation, moral or otherwise, to care about our survival.

“So why would they suddenly go so far as to create an entirely new Divine Doll just for us—with everyone and their mother on this forsaken planet mentioning how rare and special they are—, with the ‘sole’ purpose of making it easier for their worshippers to welcome us into their home? And why create a Divine Doll, of all things? Surely there must be easier ways to give your blessing other than creating a young woman from scratch only to ship her away immediately after her birth…”

Somewhere along the middle of his rant, the young dragon had forgotten to breathe, too overwhelmed by the many thoughts and questions running through his mind to pay much attention to anything other than getting the words out and out of his system. It didn’t take long for his anxiousness to catch up to him, however, for he now found himself breathing shallowly, his inhaling coming out much more laboured than his exhaling.

A soft, warm hand helped his body slow down, his heaving coming off as less frantic than just a second ago. As his breathing still wasn’t quite back to normal, Nora began to rub gentle circles around his back, her touch a powerful reminder of her presence and her commitment to being there for her twin brother whenever he needed it.

Not once stopping her ministrations, she began to gently guide Efrim through some breathing exercises, her voice barely above a whisper:

“Easy there, Brother. You’re going to accomplish what the Mechasms couldn’t if you keep this up.” She joked lightly to ease up the tension. Furrowing her brow when that didn’t get much of a reaction out of him, she grew more serious. She leaned in closer to him to whisper in his ear. “I’m going to need you to follow my lead, Efrim. Can you do that?”

That earned her a weak nod in response.

“Very good. Now, take a deep breath with me,” she inhaled, deliberately slow, and he copied her actions, “and now, let it all out slowly.” She exhaled, and so did he. “That’s right, you’re doing great. Now, again, take a deep breath,” they repeated the action, “and let it all out…” And again.

Neither of them knew how long they stood there like that, just taking calming breaths and their actions synchronised. In and out, over and over again. Eventually, the dragon’s breathing was back to normal, and he sent his sister a grateful smile.

“Thanks.” He breathed out.

“Don’t mention it.” She smiled back, before her expression sobered up. “You really oughta start being more careful, Brother. Shinonomé warned you about your panic attacks.”

“I know, I know…” He waved her off. “It’s just… How am I supposed to react to this, to her?”

“You could try giving her a chance? Glip was initially just as wary of her and look at him now! He treats her just like any student. Maybe you—" Nora tried, only to be harshly interrupted by her twin swirling around to face her, his dark blue eyes glinting dangerously and causing her to pull her hand away in surprise.

“All he did was give her a chance to worm her way into his defences!” The dragon snapped, weeks of deep-seated resentment over Glip’s perceived weakness coming to the surface with a vengeance. “Don’t you think the events leading up to his change in demeanour are kind of suspicious?”

“What do you mean?” She asked despite herself, the ears of her hat standing in high alert; she brought her hand back into the folds of her robes.

The periwinkle dragon wasted no time in listing off the events taking place that day.

“First, she requests she be allowed to go to his and Baltazar’s class; then she turns out to have been listening and learning about our history and culture long before she even made said request; she effortlessly earned the children’s adoration; and, on her very first day, a little girl has a near fatal accident she just so managed to prevent.” His words were dripping with sarcasm the more he spoke, his snout curling into a sardonic smile before it turned into a vicious sneer. “Don’t you see, Nora? Everything that happened that day was a deliberate attempt to gain his trust!”

Nora actually gasped in horror when he shook his head in disgust and muttered, “I wouldn’t be surprised if she deliberately put Lori’s life in danger just to make herself look like a hero…”

“Efrim!” She hissed, scandalised he would even think such a thing.

After the war, Nora could no longer bring herself to see the best in everyone like she used to, which was why, while she wasn’t above riling Yugo up over his relationship with her and the fact that she was undeniably beautiful—and totally her type—, Nora chose to remain mostly neutral towards Amalia. While she remained cautious, having learned from example, she ultimately understood only time would tell her true intentions.

But for some reason, she just couldn’t picture the beaming doll she’d seen laughing with her brother on her balcony and becoming starry-eyed over every little thing doing something as heinous as knowingly endangering a child to serve her own purposes.

“C-come on, Efrim…” She tried to reach out to her twin, her voice wobbly. “Don’t you think that’s a little too harsh? After all, Yugo is practically glued to her side, and he seems to trust her—” Once again, the pink-eyed Eliatrope was cut off by her dragon twin’s unforgiving rebuttals.

“Yugo is blind, Sister!” He snapped, his voice, sharp and stern, echoing around the walls. Immediately, Nora realised he had to be in a very agitated state, for his crystalline wings involuntarily unfolded around him, glinting in the moonlight. But rather than the beautiful display she was used to, now it only made him look bigger, more intimidating.

It only highlighted the beast he had been forced to become.

She idly wondered if that was the last thing his enemies saw during the war before he put an end to their lives.

Efrim himself was too out of it to notice his own accidental shapeshifting, so he simply spat, though not any less venomously. “You and I both know—Shukrute, we all know! — that, regardless of what he tells himself to sleep at night, he is absolutely smitten with that doll! Our fearless king is reduced to nothing but a lovesick Bow Wow whenever she is around! Her every wish is his command, and we’re all going to pay dearly for his weakness.”

“While it’s true Yugo has grown particularly close to her despite his initial reservations,” Nora reluctantly admitted, knowing her twin had a point—no matter how much Yugo tried to deny it. “He is still our king; we must have faith in him and his decisions. Besides, it’s not like he holds all the power. Don’t forget, Efrim, together, all of us form the Council of Six. If any one of us had anything to say on the matter, Yugo would no doubt listen to us.”

“Except we already told him our concerns and he brushed them off, remember?” He pointedly reminded her, his mind tracing back to those meetings soon after the doll arrived, and she asked to be taught by the Ivory Twins.

“From the very beginning, Glip and I were against the doll staying with us, but Yugo insisted we just couldn’t kick her out because it could offend the gods and lead to us getting into heaps of trouble. And when she requested to become Baltazar and Glip’s student, Glip was vehemently against it, but Yugo essentially strong-armed him into accepting because he just can’t say no to his little flower!”

“And look at how that turned out!” Nora exclaimed, opening a portal to close the distance between herself and her brother, her hand gently cupping the side of his snout, begging him to listen to her; to try and understand. “Glip came to realise he was wrong about her and now treats her like any of his students.”

She had to stifle a frustrated groan when Efrim countered, “She manipulated him into accepting her, you mean. You forget the circumstances revolving that day are far too convenient for her to be a mere coincidence. And all because Yugo allowed for it to happen…” He grumbled, shaking his head in distaste.

“And you forget it wasn’t just Yugo who insisted Glip gave her a chance!” Nora shot back, growing frustrated with her dragon twin. “Baltazar, for starters, was just as willing to welcome Amalia in as Glip was unwilling to, and I don’t see you trying to claim Amalia somehow won him over as well.”

“Because I don’t need to!” He all but screeched, throwing his arms to the sides in exasperation. “That’s the worst part! It’s not that Yugo’s clearly fallen for that doll’s siren song, or even that she’s managed to turn Glip away from his most primal instincts, but the fact that the rest of you refuse to see anything wrong with her!”

“The rest of… us?” She echoed with a small voice, hurt by the fact that Efrim seemed to think she didn’t have his back. But he just went on, not sparing her a second glance.

“Just like earlier; somehow you think it’s a good idea to entrust what’s essentially a Sadida demigoddess, a creature whose power over nature is second only to her divine father, with her own garden. And you don’t even suspect it might come back to bite you.” He scoffed derisively, letting out a sarcastic, mirthless chuckle.

The young dragon was far too out of it to notice, but Nora watched with concerned, pink eyes when his wings began trembling, letting out a buzzing sound not unlike an insect. She flinched, unconsciously taking a step forward to try and offer some comfort—Efrim’s wings only acted like that when he was in a very distressed emotional state.

“She’s literally created nigh-unstoppable weapons only she can control, Nora!” He pressed on, finally taking flight and coming to hover over his twin as he looked her dead in the eye. “And you don’t see anything wrong with it.”

“Amalia says her Sadida Dolls are her way of offering her help in case we’re ever under attack.” Nora pointed out, but her voice sounded distant, distracted, and not entirely convinced herself.

“And you believed her.” Efrim deadpanned. He shook his head with a sneer. “She’s putting a knife to our throats and you’re actually thanking her for it!”

“How can you be so sure Yugo hasn’t taken everything into account, Efrim?” She challenged, refusing to stand down even as her brother was literally looming over her. “Don’t you remember? Yugo said we could use this opportunity to learn more about the Twelvians and stay ahead of the game if they ever declare war against us.” She made a show of shrugging, though her words were purposeful and irrefutable, “Today we’ve learned Sadidas fight using enchanted, animated dolls; wouldn’t you count that as an advantage?”

“We’ll need much more than that if we want to survive whatever that doll and this world’s gods have planned for us, Sister.” He told her ominously, a puff of smoke coming out of his nostrils.

The Turquoise Twins remained like that, locked into a staring contest, for what felt like an eternity. Despite the intensity in their eyes, all each of them wanted was for the other to try and see their point of view. Each passing day, Nora grew increasingly worried over her twin’s transformation, how he went from cautious but kind and welcoming to paranoid and hostile. Efrim, on the other hand, was desperate for his sister to move on from the uncaring funk the loss of their world had awakened within her and open her eyes to the truth.

And the truth was, the Divine Doll just couldn’t be trusted.

Eventually, the fire in the young dragon’s dark blue eyes flickered practically out of existence, being reduced to nothing but a tired spark. His guarded expression morphing into quiet resignation, he finally averted his gaze, letting out a heavy sigh as he rested his head against his claw.

A small gasp leaving her, Nora was about to reach out and try to console her twin brother when his voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

“I love you, Nora, more than anything. And I know you love me too.” The look he sent her was enough to break her heart in two. “I’d just wish you would listen to me for once.”

And with that and one last flap of his wings, he dashed out of her still open window, leaving Nora alone in the darkness. A few seconds ticked by where the Eliatrope just remained where she was, motionless, her expression one of shock. And then, unable to stop herself, she choked out a broken sob, falling to her knees as she cried into her palms.

Not that long ago, she and Efrim rarely argued. Their siblings would admit to being jealous of their close, unbreakable bond. Their days would be spent laying down on the grass and lazily drawing shapes from the clouds above or gathering flowers to make crowns to gift their subjects to. They would laugh, and joke, and sing, and lead dances in the middle of the main square. During festivals, while the religious aspects fell within Mina’s jurisdiction, the youngest Primordial Twins would lead their people into the actual festivities, organising games and banquets, and just doing about everything in their power to make the subjects they loved so much feel as happy, lucky, and content with their lives as they felt.

The war changed all that. Now the Eliatropes’ Joybringers couldn’t find it in themselves to feel any joy, let alone share it with everybody else. And their dependence on each other had become as much of a comfort as it was a wound they kept reopening whenever they interacted.

Yes, even since the war, things had changed. For everyone, herself included. In fact, maybe she was the first to change. But nothing had changed quite like Efrim did.

....................................................................................................................

He could still vividly remember the curious smiles plastered on their children’s faces at the arrival of their new neighbours. To be honest, he’d be lying if he said it was only the children that were ecstatic by the fact that they finally had someone to share their world with. It was as if their mother had finally answered her children’s pleas.

Make no mistake, under the Eliatrope Goddess’ care, her followers never wanted for anything. Food and water were plentiful; under the Council of Six’s guidance, their civilisation thrived; they lived in perfect harmony with nature; and the Eliatropes never knew famine, corruption, pestilence, or war…

The one thing their mother failed to provide them with were companions they could learn from and share their ways with, however. The Eliatropes were the only sapient beings on their home planet, and though that wasn’t without its perks, over the course of the centuries, they found themselves wishing for more, their curiosity for the many wonders beyond the frontiers of their world growing more powerful by the day. Harder to ignore.

Needless to say, there was much rejoicing when the Mechasms arrived, looking for a place to call home. Naturally, they were welcomed with open arms, for the Eliatropes had never known ‘stranger danger’.

That was a lesson that was bound to be etched onto the very fabric of their race’s history.

Against all odds, at first, everything was even better than it had been when the portal-making race still lived by itself. It didn’t take long for Eliatropes and Mechasms to form an almost symbiotic bond. The latter used their vast powers to improve the Eliatropes’ already almost idyllic lives, while the former didn’t just offer the Mechasms a place to stay, but they showed them the secrets of their own magic.

For years, it was a match made in Inglorium. If asked, any Eliatrope would immediately sing the Mechasms’ praises, for that deep was their respect and admiration for their new (and not-so-new) neighbours. Whereas the Mechasms, mysterious as they could be, were nothing but gentle and supportive when it came to the wakfu-wielding people.

One race was the other’s fervent supporter, while the other was the other’s staunchest defender.

Which made their betrayal all the more devastating.

The day the Mechasms betrayed them completely out of nowhere wasn’t just the day the Mechasm War started; it was also the day the Eliatropes had their hearts broken for the very first time in their millennia-long history.

Soon, horrified screams replaced giddy laughter. The images of terrified children crying their little eyes out as they desperately called for their parents—who might not even be alive anymore—were burned into his brain. The happy memories where those same children’s favourite game was climbing up the Mechasms’ huge, but ultimately harmless, forms reduced to cinders by that same fire.

But the one memory that was fundamentally changed was that of their attackers; gone was the warm, grateful feeling that used to spread all over his chest concerning the foreign race, now all that was left was seething hatred whenever he thought back to their lifeless, uncaring eyes as they massacred his people. Sometimes, he still couldn’t believe the vile monster ravaging their land with his armies was the same kind and caring Prince Orgonax who used to be so beloved by everyone. Now he could only reminisce on the bitter hatred and bloodlust reflected in his glowing eyes whenever he thought back to him, a shiver going down his spine at the memories.

Their skies turned red from the wanton destruction going on underneath, while rivers of blood streamed down the desolate land. Everywhere he looked, all he could see were flashes of blue and red clashing against each other, until one of the two colours all but vanished. He remembered cheering to himself whenever it was the red flash that died out, and his eyes stinging as he fought to suppress broken sobs from tearing from his throat when it was the blue light that flickered out first.

And yet, nothing was more heartbreaking than the silence, even amidst the chaos and bloodshed. For the first time ever since the Crimson Twins could remember, the loving, nurturing echo at the back of his head he had been hearing since birth was silent. Their Mother’s voice was gone, his connection to Her all but lost.

He had never felt so hopeless in his life. And if he couldn’t hope, then did his people have a future at all?

In a desperate attempt to quiet the unforgiving doubts, he spent those days doing everything in his power to fend off attacks and protect the innocent, ensuring everyone was safe as he led them away to whatever safe zone Qilby and Shinonomé had set up to treat their injuries and offer their subjects something to drink and eat. A place to stay until the nightmare was finally over.

And in between fighting, narrowly avoiding deathly attacks, rescuing civilians, and holding onto the very last threads of his sanity to not shut down completely, there was one thought in his mind:

He kept praying with all his might Nora was fine.

When he finally did reunite with his sister, the dam finally broke. Weeks of pent-up emotion tore painful, relieved sobs from his throat as he embraced his twin tightly against his chest, feeling a certain wetness against his scales where her own face was buried. It was a miracle neither her or their siblings had died, although the same couldn’t be said for many of their subjects—warriors and civilians alike had lost everything in the blink of an eye.

Could they ever rebuild their lives at all?

The Mechasms were once their greatest friends and yet, they turned their backs on the Eliatropes without hesitation, let alone an explanation. And now that forsaken doll claimed they had the twelve gods’ blessing and she was meant to be proof enough of that.

“Don’t make me laugh.” He derisively thought aloud as he used his forearm to furiously wipe away the insistent tears pooling in his eyes.

His majestic wings stretching to their full length as he glided under the night sky, he didn’t know where he was going, just that he needed to distance himself as far away from the palace, his siblings, Nora, and the doll as possible.

So that glorified ragdoll wanted to earn their trust? Well, fat chance. Because if there was anything he’d learned from the Mechasm War, that was that he’d much rather die than make the same mistake that cost their people so much. Even if he became the Eliatropes’ last line of defence against that green-haired schemer, so be it. He would never let them get away with whatever it was they were planning. Even if it was the last thing he did.

...................................................................................................................

“Is it selfish of me to be looking forward to being able to really explore beyond the confines of the island the most?” Yugo wondered aloud with a heavy sigh, his body sprawling all over his desk as he—thankfully—finished with today’s batch of paperwork.

Watching his brother’s antics in amusement, Adamaï chuckled, “I know what you mean.” His wings kept him aloft as he scanned over his brother’s small collection of memorabilia. To the naked eye, a shelf filled to the brim with trinkets would be nothing but ‘small’, but the twins still vividly remembered what their room used to look like back in their home planet. Or rather, it would be more accurate to say they didn’t remember what it looked like, having been overrun by the countless souvenirs they brought home from their many travels over the years.

Really, they had so much stuff there was no sight of their walls.

That was one of the reasons why they no longer shared a room after arriving on the World of Twelve—their siblings had strictly forbidden it. They dared to hope it would take the Emerald Dofus twins slightly longer to turn their living spaces into the world’s most disorganised museum exhibit if they both had to start from scratch.

Now, normally, such an attempt would have been futile, as Yugo and Adamaï would have already elevated their rooms to the dubious honour of being storage closets with beds; but the rising tensions with the Twelvians and the Eliatropes’ subsequent isolation on Oma Island made moving towards that goal feel like crawling at a snail’s pace.

Still, Yugo had found a way not to let something as silly as ‘self-imposed isolation’ deter him, hence his small, but still growing, collection.

Draconic eyes scanning the shelves, Adamaï perked up at the sight of something very interesting. Picking up the torn remnants of the Gobbowl match tickets from their visit to Bonta placed beside a bowl of some sort, he mused aloud, “Amalia seemed very excited with her new garden.”

“Yeah, and here I thought she couldn’t possibly be more excited than when I first showed it to her.” Yugo said, throwing his hands above his head and stretching until he heard a loud pop! “Can’t say I blame her, though. It’s only been two weeks and she’s already doing incredible things.”

“As expected of a Divine Doll.” Adamaï concurred. He glanced at his brother over his shoulder. In the privacy of his room, he had taken his cloak off and hung it on his chair. “You told me at first she was very apprehensive of being given her own garden, right?”

Leaning back on his chair with his arms crossed and his eyes closed, Yugo hummed at the memory. “That’s right. She felt she was imposing herself on us. Luckily, I got her to see how ridiculous that was. She’s not imposing herself on us; if anything, we’re the ones who’re always relying on her help!”

Now it was the dragon’s turn to hum noncommittally. “That’s true, I suppose.” With one last glance over, he put the tickets back in their place. His wings still outstretched and flapping in mid-air, he turned to face his twin. “Then again, isn’t that what she’s here for? To help us?”

This time, he was met with silence. Yugo’s attention was trained on the markings running up and down his ceiling, weak pulses of wakfu making them light up every so often. He was clearly lost in thought. Adamaï sighed good-naturedly, for he was very used to his kind of scene happening and his brother had already explained everything to him when he went to look for him in the library right after parting ways with Amalia that day, anyway. He already had everything he needed.

Although his mind couldn't help going back to what happened today in the garden. The weak undercurrents of wakfu running through his veins and flashing in his mind told him Yugo, too, was bothered by it. The white-and-blue dragon had a very good inkling that was actually what Yugo had summoned him to his room for in the first place.

Joined by an endlessly adventurous thrive, the Emerald Twins weren’t ones to stay cooped up in their rooms for long, mostly just to sleep and, especially in Yugo’s case, tend to the kingly duties he had been neglecting during the day.

And considering how often the latter occurrence took place… Well, let’s just say it was no wonder the Eliatrope King wasn’t the most enthused to be in his room. Which at the same time meant that whenever he summoned you there, it was usually something serious.

Letting himself fall to the floor as he willed his wings out of existence, Adamaï leaned back against the wall, his claws on his hips and his tail thumping the floor as he patiently waited for Yugo to speak up his mind any minute from now. He knew it wouldn’t take long for him to cut to the chase and get straight to the point.

“Did you know what she was really mesmerised by at first was the ground used for the room?”

…maybe it would take some prodding.

“The ground? How so?” Adamaï immediately smacked himself for playing along despite himself.

“Because, since it was volcanic rock, it was fertile. Meaning she can grow things more easily.” He explained casually. “Apparently, Sadidas need fertile, workable soil to use many of their powers.”

“I’m guessing you just informed Chibi and Grougal of that fact?” Adamaï guessed, his head tilting to the side in surprise when his brother just shook his head instead.

“I didn’t even know about that until Amalia told me, when she saw the garden.” He admitted, tearing himself from his desk and spinning his chair around to give his dragon twin his full attention. “That was all Chibi and Grougal.”

“Ever the observant ones, I see.”

“Well, they are our people’s greatest inventors. That’s gotta mean something besides them just being good at tinkering and acting like a pair of interior design snobs.”

“And did you know about her plans for the garden?” Adamaï pressed on, his voice wasn’t accusatory—at neither Amalia or Yugo—, but genuinely curious.

It took the king a second to get what his twin was trying to say. His form was slightly hunched over, with his forearms resting on his knees and his clasped hands in the space in between. After a beat of silence, understanding dawned on him and he shook his head again.

“I knew she wanted to prepare it for when we started telling her what we need her to grow, but I had no idea she intended to grow her own animated dolls, if that’s what you mean, Ad.”

Again, Adamaï just nodded. “I was just curious, that’s all. Though I can’t deny I was a little alarmed when Amalia mentioned the explosive ones.”

Both brothers couldn’t help but laugh at the memory. It wasn’t easy catching the white-and-blue dragon off-guard, so when something managed to surprise even him… Well, then you knew it was a pretty big deal. And, truth be told, the face he pulled when Amalia mentioned the possibility of making her dolls explode just as he was playing with one was simply priceless.

“I think we were all quite taken aback that something so small and cute could be such a powerhouse.” Yugo pointed out, wiping a tear off his face, his laughter slowly dying down.

Adamaï closed the distance between the two and placed a claw over his shoulder, smiling down at his twin with a knowing look, “Yeah, well, then it shouldn’t be all that surprising that Amalia was the one to accomplish that.” He winked. “It’s in her blood, after all!”

Wait, did Divine Dolls even have blood…?

He was broken out of his musings by the almost painfully lovesick sigh that escaped his twin’s lips, “Yeah, you’re right. If anyone knows how to be both cute and powerful, that’s Amalia…”

As soon as the words registered in his mind, Yugo’s eyes widened and he clamped his mouth shut. He chanced a cautious look up at Adamaï, and promptly buried his increasingly hot face into his hands at the smug smirk curling at his twin’s thick, blue lips with a loud groan.

“Shut up.” He grumbled, though it sounded a little muffled.

“I didn’t say anything.” Adamaï tried to sound as neutral as possible, but he couldn’t keep his voice from cracking in amusement at his twin’s predicament. If his vehement denial of the obvious wasn’t so frustrating, he’d be doubled over with laughter by now.

“You didn’t have to.” The flustered king countered, stubbornly refusing to look the dragon in the eye. “Ever since you hit your first growth spurt, you don’t know how to school your expression into something friendly. Either you look all serious and menacing, or you look absolutely deranged. There is just no in-between.”

“Excuse you!” Adamaï gasped, offended, a claw to his chest. He huffed in outrage. “I’ll have you know I can look perfectly normal if I feel like it! Not once have I scared Amailia off, now, have I?”

Now that Yugo was standing to his full height, he was practically in Adamaï’s face as the two of them grumbled at each other. “Exactly! Your problem is that you can’t play it cool to save your life! The moment you have to plaster a smile on your face instead of letting it happen naturally, you get this psycho grimace instead.”

“I do not!”

“Yes, you do!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do not—!”

“Uh… Is this a bad time?”

At the unexpected sound of the new voice, the two of them whirled their heads around so fast it was a miracle they didn’t give themselves whiplash. There, standing before them and staring at them with the kind of long-suffering resignation only a little sister could possess was Nora, who had just stepped out of one of her diamond-shaped portals.

“Nora!” Yugo exclaimed, annoyance tingeing his voice. “You can’t just come in like that! Use the door!”

“We’re Eliatropes.” She deadpanned, an eyebrow raised. “Making portals is literally what sets us apart from the other races in the Krosmoz. Why do we even need doors in the first place? We can just go pretty much wherever we like!”

“She’s got a point there.” Adamaï muttered.

“Well, it’s still common courtesy to at least respect other people’s privacy by not barging into their rooms unannounced.” Yugo couldn’t believe he had to even explain that. Exasperated, he pinched the bridge of his nose as he added through gritted teeth, “Especially now that we actually have a non-Eliatrope guest living with us.”

“Alright, alright.” She rolled her eyes, hoping to get it over with. “I promise not to teleport myself into Amalia’s room unannounced.” She smirked at the way Yugo was scowling at her—she had very deliberately not said anything about not going into his room unannounced.

A smirk stretching over her lips, she cocked an eyebrow while her hands came to rest on her hips and she shifted her weight to one leg, striking a cheeky pose, “What’s the matter, Brother? Afraid I might see something I shouldn’t?”

Face burning even hotter, Yugo just made a strangled sound while his hands mimicked wringing her pretty, little neck in aggravation.

Chuckling at the display, only to pretend to have a dry throat when his twin flashed him a death glare, Adamaï said, “So, what brings you here?”

The way she seemed to shrink into herself, all semblance of mirth and sass completely gone, immediately got their attention.

“It’s about Amalia…” She paused, swallowing thickly. “And Efrim.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, the Emerald Twins tensed up and exchanged worried glances. They had a very good hunch as to what their conversation might be about.

For a moment, a heavy silence hung over all three of them, as neither dared to say a word; they didn’t even know how to begin the conversation. So they just stood there, in the middle of Yugo’s room, bathed by the light blue hue coming from the artificial stone torches perched over the walls.

In the end, it was their king who spoke up first, letting out a heavy sigh. “Come on. It’s uncomfortable talking while standing up like this.” He beckoned them deeper into his room. “Why don’t you lie down on the bed, Nora? You look like you could use some rest.”

As much as she hated to admit it, Yugo had a point. After her argument with Efrim the previous night, she hadn’t been able to sleep a wink, and her eyes were bloodshot and puffy as a result of both her sleep deprivation and night-long cries. Not even by following her siblings around like usual did Nora grow tired enough to drift off to sleep. The fact that no one had seen Efrim since he left Amalia’s garden only added to her worries.

When she finally flopped herself down onto her brother’s bed, soft and comfortable, she had to summon every ounce of will power she possessed not to go out like a light. Which was ironic, given all day she wanted nothing more than to find a place she could rest. But nothing about her life was fair anymore, so she would just have to suck it up and pretend things were fine.

Nothing new, really.

“Had a rough night?” Yugo guessed, offering her a sympathetic smile as he sat down opposite her, at the foot of his bed. Meanwhile, Adamaï opted to remain upright, although leaning against the sculpted frame of his poster bed.

“You could say that, yes.” She smiled sadly in return. For a moment, neither said a word, until, “I’m worried about him, guys.”

“He’s clearly not taking Amalia’s stay well.” Adamaï observed.

Nora snorted, “That’s putting it mildly…”

“He was clearly out to get her yesterday. All those questions about her dolls being weapons, and the way he crouched down on the floor, as if ready to pounce…” Yugo trailed off, shaking his head in frustration. “Clearly, Efrim is still convinced Amalia is a threat, and it shows.”

“Yeah, and Amalia is aware of it, too.” The girl pointed out, her eyes falling to her fidgeting fingers on her lap.

“She is?” Adamaï asked, surprised.

“It’s hard not to notice the way Amalia basically shrinks whenever the two are in close proximity.” The casualness of her tone did not take away from the truth of her statement. “She knows Efrim doesn’t like her and it makes her want to stay as far away from him as possible.” She then added with a resigned shrug, “Though, again, it’s not like he does a great job at hiding how he feels.”

“This is such a mess!” Yugo exclaimed tiredly, his hands running through his dirty blond locks and yanking slightly at them in frustration. His wakfu wings—always in sync to his mood swings— went from flickering brightly due to his troubled emotions to lowering slightly, as despondent as he felt. “If we really want the Twelvians to trust us, we can’t afford to have one of our own distrust of Amalia so much! That would only complicate matters, or cause some diplomatic incident, or make them even more suspicious of us, or-or… or I don’t know!”

“Not to mention, Efrim is a member of the Council of Six like us, the rulers of the Eliatrope race.” Adamaï was quick to point out, wincing slightly when he realised he was only adding to his twin’s stress. Though not before saying, “If word gets out that one of us thinks so little of Amalia, the Twelvians could use the excuse of trying to protect one of their gods’ children to attack us or kick us out.”

“Thank you for that summation, Ad.” Yugo deadpanned, his hand holding his head as he sent a look his twin’s way.

“Right, sorry. Not helping.” He said meekly.

Groaning loudly, their king jumped to his feet and paced around the room, the motion not unlike that of a caged animal. Stopping abruptly, he threw his head back, his hands having once again found their way to his hair while his wings remained firmly pressed to his head.

“I just don’t understand the source of Efrim’s animosity!” He complained, throwing his arms to his side. Under his siblings’ curious gaze, he resumed his pacing. “Yes, it’s true Amalia’s arrival was very abrupt and unexpected. I think we can all agree I was the one the most taken aback by it. But Amalia’s presence contributed greatly to the most significant progress we’ve been making in being welcomed by the Twelvians!”

“Nobody denies that, Yugo.” Adamaï said placatingly, sliding off the bed frame and walking towards his twin to rest a pair of comforting claws on his shoulders. “All our subjects know it’s all thanks to Amalia that we were even invited to Bonta. And, from what you told me, she was rather well-liked when you two visited the village.”

“You visited the village together?” Nora questioned, surprised. She had no idea. Then she realised they most likely went without even Adamaï around to act as their chaperone and she found herself feeling personally slighted over having missed such a perfect chance to annoy her brother over his date with his crush like any good little sister would.

Yugo, sensing her intentions, addressed her over his dragon twin’s shoulder, “Yes, to visit Qilby and Shinonomé, nothing more!” Growing more serious and ignoring her mutterings of how ‘she’d have to ask Qilby and Shinonomé later’, he focused back on Adamaï, “And exactly! I simply don’t understand how Efrim could be so judgemental of someone he barely even knows.”

“Can’t you?”

Nora’s quiet yet piercing question immediately drew her brothers’ attention, with Adamaï turning around to look at her while Yugo leaned over his twin’s shoulder to face her better. They exchanged a confused glance before the king muttered, “Um… no? It’s exactly as we’ve been saying, Nora; Amalia’s been a huge help practically since she arrived, and Efrim’s hostility towards her could be taken as an insult by Twelvians and gods alike.”

“True, but that didn’t stop you from keeping your distance from her or suspecting her of having ulterior motives when she arrived.” Hoisting herself up from the bed as well, she pointed an accusatory finger in Yugo’s direction, the action and her words feeling like a suckerpunch.

While he tried to recover from the blow, she went on, “Because you said so yourself; you were just as suspicious of her true intentions when we first met her. And although for a while you kept good on your promise of keeping her company, you also avoided her for weeks! Shouldn’t you understand Efrim’s feelings better than anyone?”

For a while, Yugo just stood there, his eyes wide and his mouth gaping as he struggled to come up with an appropriate response to her question, even if it was clearly rhetorical. Because, the truth was, Nora was right. He was the first one to distrust Amalia as soon as he heard of her presence on Oma Island. And he did spend weeks keeping her at arms’ length or outright avoiding her altogether after he feared they’d got too close during their visit to the beach, precisely because he felt he couldn’t afford to let his guard down.

But the worst part was that, deep down, he still had doubts. They would creep up on him when he least expected it, like some thieving Srams lurking in the shadows as they waited for their prey to make their presence known to rob them blind. One moment, he would be happily conversing with Amalia, laughing and joking over everything and anything under the sun, and the next, something she said would send him spiralling down paranoia. Suddenly, he would internally question her true reasons for saying what she said, analysing it from every angle as the ever present fear of betrayal lingered heavy on his mind.

In the blink of an eye, Amalia would transform from an innocent flower who could never hurt anyone, to a scheming seductress with horns and a tail pointer than an Osamodas’ right in front of him.

And then, as soon as those fears came, they would be gone when her sweet, melodious voice called out to him, sounding genuinely concerned.

A part of him was beginning to understand the doll’s aversion to Eliatrope portals. He himself was beginning to feel like he kept jumping in and out of one whenever they interacted and those doubts assaulted him, the neverending exercise leaving him quite dizzy.

He didn’t know where he found the strength to say, “But I am spending time with her, and learning more things about her every day, Nora.” His voice growing more confident with every word he spoke, he pointed his glowing palm to the floor underneath him and materialised a portal that led him right beside his sister, who regarded him with a raised eyebrow, listening intently.

He leaned forward slightly to be at the same eye-level as her and placed his hands on her pink-clad shoulders reassuringly, not unlike what Adamaï had done to him mere moments before. “And each day she’s giving me more reasons to trust her.”

Instead of fighting him, the pink-eyed Eliatrope just hung her head in defeat, her snow-white bangs following her movements. “And that’s Efrim's greatest fear. That no matter how much time we spend together with her or how much we claim to know her, we still won’t know anything at all and she’ll turn her back on us.”

Like the Mechasms.

None of them needed to voice their thoughts to know the others were thinking the same thing as them. It wasn’t necessary, not after the war with their former allies had left a permanent scar on Eliatrope history and on each and every one of them—some were just more visible than others.

It was one of the reasons settling down on the World of Twelve had been such a difficult and risky choice. They were driven off their own world by those who once were their closest allies. Could they really risk suffering the same fate at the hands of countless races that were so different from them?

In the end, desperation and necessity won out over cautiousness, and the rest was history.

“That’s what weighs heavily on Efrim’s mind, guys.” Nora continued, her voice tremulous as tears welled up in her eyes, her concern for her twin apparent. “He’s not the same he once was, and I fear he’ll never be. He… He just… he doesn’t seem like he can move on from what happened!”

“And he’s terrified that what happened with the Mechasms will repeat itself with Amalia. That we’ll open our hearts and our home to an outsider only for her to stab us in the back like a treacherous Sram.” Adamaï concluded, his voice distant as he watched the tears streaming down his sister’s face. He clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly, feeling powerless to stop her tears and offer her some comfort while Yugo gently wiped them off and tried to reassure her.

“I understand, Nora.” Her older brother said softly, lifting her chin with one finger to get her to look at him. “Believe me, I do. But trusting Amalia is a risk we must take if we want to be able to call this world our home one day. It really is our best shot.”

“He’s right.” Adamaï agreed, finally willing his feet to move and to stand beside his brother, supporting him. “But I’m afraid Efrim’s attitude towards Amalia will only complicate matters.”

Wiping the remaining tears off, she sighed. “I know, and I’ve tried getting him to at least dial it down, but he refuses to back down. He sees himself as our last line of defence against her, or something. And I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Why don’t you try talking to Amalia instead?” Yugo offered.

She perked up at that. “What?”

“Yeah, if one side is too stubborn to listen, then maybe you’ll have better luck with the other.” Yugo explained. Then, the all-too-familiar dopey grin they’d come to associate with whenever he was thinking of the Divine Doll came back with a vengeance. “I’m sure if you tell Amalia not to take Efrim’s attitude too personally or you explain to her why he acts like that in the first place, she’ll understand.”

Nora considered it, bringing a finger to her chin pensively. She supposed that could work. She’d just have to be careful not to break Efrim’s trust by revealing anything too personal.

She gave a satisfied nod and a smile. “Very well, I’ll try talking to Amalia about it.”

“That’s great!” Yugo grinned back.

“Now, Brother…” He did not like the sound of her voice one bit. It was innocent, too innocent. “Why don’t you tell me all about your date with Amalia at the village?”

Yugo just teleported himself out of his room.

....................................................................................................................

“And that’s all for today, class. Don’t forget, starting next week, we’ll be meeting up at the training grounds back at the village to formally begin your training on Wakfung.” Glip called after his students as they filed out of the classroom, chattering excitedly amongst themselves.

Amalia picked up the rear end of the throngs of Eliatrope children walking out of the room, sighing in relief, glad that the day was finally over. Since she had been working tirelessly on her garden and her dolls, she had neglected her studies a bit, more specifically, her homework. Meaning she had had a lot of catching up to do the night before to be able to hand in her reports and essays on time.

She would have also had to give an oral presentation on her findings on her assigned topic regarding Eliatrope worshipping practices if it hadn’t been for class mercifully ending just as it was about to be her turn.

She might have prepared a presentation on Eliatrope worship, but she was going to spend all night thanking Sadida for that save.

The doll was about to cross the threshold leading to the palace halls and back to her room when she felt the curled end of Glip’s staff grabbing hold of her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. She almost let out a resigned whimper, already lamenting the fact that she hadn't been so lucky after all and her teachers were about to make her share her findings with them.

“Lady Amalia, do you have a moment?” Baltazar’s kind voice said, his grandfatherly tone revealing nothing.

“Yeah, sure. Of course…” She all but squeaked pitifully, turning her body fully so she was facing her teachers. She took a deep breath and began to recite the speech she had prepared for the occasion, “Every year, during the month that best corresponds to the Twelvian Descendre, the Eliatrope people gather to celebrate their goddess’ greatest feats: the creation of the Krosmoz, the birth of the Primordial Eliatropes and their dragons, and the creation of—.”

“My Lady, what are you blabbering about?” Glip cut her off, confused.

“Um, I’m explaining what I’ve found out about my assigned topic on Eliatrope worship?” Amalia replied, unsure, her eyes darting this and that way. “Isn’t that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

Dragon and Eliatrope shook their heads. “Not at all.” Baltazar said.

“Huh.” Now Amalia was the one who was confused. “Then what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Well, you see,” Glip started. With a sigh, he walked further into the room and hooked his staff with one of the rings hanging from the ceilings that the kids used to practise their moves. Hoisting himself up, he somersaulted in the air until he came to rest atop his twin’s head, peering down at the gaping doll with an unreadable expression (and feeling very smug about his physical feat). “As you know, next week—.”

“Did you really have to do all that just to make it to Baltazar’s head?” The dragon questioned, doing his best to send his brother an accusatory glare even though doing so was considerably difficult when your target was out of your line of vision. “Couldn’t you have just opened a portal? Glip, you’re the Eliatrope!”

The Wakfung master’s expression morphed into a resigned grimace. He went on all fours to lean over the dragon’s head and look his twin in the eye. “Mastering the art of Wakfung requires both physical fortitude and agility, not just proficiency at manipulating wakfu. You’d know this if you didn’t spend all your time with your snout stuck in a book.”

An annoyed puff of smoke abandoning his nostrils and almost causing Glip to choke, the beige dragon was quick to shoot back, “And if you didn’t spend so much time jumping around like a monkey, you would recognise there is no point in mastering Wakfung if you do not know the legacy you’re trying to protect!”

Amalia could only blink as the two people she’d come to see as wise and esteemed masters bickered with each other like children. In a way, she supposed she should be more than used to the sight by now. In the few months she’d been living on Oma Island, she’d come to witness firsthand and on more than one occasion that the Primordial Eliatropes and their dragons had a very interesting relationship. One minute, they were the very picture of leadership, diplomacy, and refinement, and the next they would have the most childish spats over the silliest things.

She didn’t know if she should find it funny or embarrassing that, more often than not, Yugo always found himself squabbling with his siblings.

She shifted in place uncomfortably, digging her big toe into the floor, unsure of what to do. On the one hand, she really didn’t want to interrupt, but on the other hand, they had yet to tell her what they wanted from her in the first place and she was growing rather impatient. She still had a garden to tend to! And who knew the kind of trouble her dolls would get into if she wasn’t there to watch over them until she had them fully under her command?

At last, she had enough. To be honest, she would have summoned forth a set of tendrils to wrap around the twins’ forms to pull them apart, but seeing as, technically speaking, they were still her teachers and, thus, her superiors in a way, the doll limited herself to clearing her throat loudly to gain their attention.

It was almost comical the way they abruptly stopped their bickering to turn their heads to her.

“Sorry to interrupt, Master Glip, Master Baltazar, but could you please tell me what you wanted to talk to me about in the first place?”

The Ivory Twins shared a sheepish glance before hastily collecting themselves as if nothing had happened. Adjusting his tunic and tightening his grip on his cane, Glip resumed what he was saying, “As I was saying, before we were rudely interrupted,” he yelped when Baltazar used one of his tiny, yet perfectly functional, wings to smack him on the back of his head. “As you know, next week we’ll be starting the children’s formal training on Wakfung.” He finally said, nursing the back of his head while flashing his brother a glare.

Amalia nodded. “That’s right. You reminded us about it right before dismissing class.” She tilted her head, confused. “But what does that have got to do with me?”

Glip grew sheepish at that, wincing slightly. “Well, as I already mentioned when you first started attending our lessons,” his wince intensified as he remembered the less than stellar way he had treated the Divine Doll back then, “since you’re not an Eliatrope, your magic doesn’t work like ours.”

“Uh-huh.” She mumbled, nodding along to his explanation.

“So, the thing is… Erm…” He trailed off. He peered down at his brother. “Lend me a claw?”

“What Glip is trying to say, my Lady, is that he simply cannot teach you the art of Wakfung, as your magic is not compatible with it.” Baltazar finished for him, looking the doll straight in the eye.

“Oh. I…I see.” Was all Amalia could say in response. Truth be told, she already suspected she wouldn’t be able to learn like the rest of the children, as Glip had made that very clear on her first day. But she supposed a small, naïve part of her had hoped the Wakfung master would change his mind upon seeing how diligent she was as a student.

Still, hearing them say she just wouldn’t be able to practise with them hurt more than she cared to admit.

“Then, what am I supposed to do starting next week?” She chose to ask instead of voicing her hurt feelings. Not like it would have been necessary—the pitiful glances her masters sent her way made it plenty clear she was doing a lousy job at masking her disappointment in the first place.

She must have looked like a kicked Bow Wow at the moment.

Glip’s voice was uncharacteristically soft and reassuring as he suggested, “You can do whatever you want, really. From working on your garden to watching the children and I train at the village.”

“You could always spend that time at the library with Baltazar.” The beige dragon offered kindly, and Amalia couldn’t help but smile. She knew him well enough by now to know he meant it. “We could always spend that time to help you catch up some more on your studies.”

The doll felt her cheeks grow hot at their next suggestion, innocent as it might have sounded. “Or you could always go look for Yugo and spend time together if he’s not too busy.”

“Oh! Uh… I-I don’t know. I mean, sure! I-if he’s not too busy…” Clearing her throat, she scrambled to change the topic. “I guess I’ll take some time to figure out what I’d like to do first and I'll let you know as soon as I’ve decided?”

Both masters nodded. “Of course.” Glip said, at the same time as Baltazar added, “You let us know whatever it is that you decide to do.”

“Right. Well, if there’s nothing else you would like to talk to me about…” she trailed off purposely, giving them a chance to speak up. When instead they just shook their heads and smiled at her, she returned their smile with one of her own—one she knew didn’t quite reach her eyes— and proceeded to make her way towards the door as she waved goodbye over her shoulder. “Okay, then! Thanks for today’s lesson! See you soon!”

As soon as she was out of the threshold, she closed the door behind herself, knowing the educators liked taking some time to clean up after each lesson before they too had to leave. She let out a sigh and leaned back against the door, feeling thoroughly drained all of a sudden.

“Sweet Sadida, what a day…”

“Amalia.”

Startled by the unexpected voice, she let out a loud, high-pitched squeak as she jumped away from the door. Immediately, the sight before her let her know the day was far from over.

“Nora?”

For a moment, as if under a spell, Amalia just blinked, taken aback. To say she was surprised to see the youngest Eliatrope would be an understatement. Not because she wasn’t used to seeing Nora around, quite the contrary, as she was one of the faces she saw the most; but because, for once, she was alone. Normally, whenever Amalia and Nora were in the same room, the latter was accompanying at least one of her siblings for one reason or another. It got to the point where the doll wondered if perhaps she just disliked being on her own.

She always waved that idea off, however, as, even though Nora was always around, Amalia simply didn’t know her enough to feel confident in her assessment of her. But one thing was for certain: Nora had never approached her like this before, all by herself and with her pink eyes denoting a graveness that felt foreign to the otherwise impish woman.

To be completely honest, Amalia couldn’t help but squirm under her penetrating gaze, subconsciously bringing her arms around her body for comfort, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the white fabric of her wristbands. She had the feeling whatever the reason was that Nora came seeking her out, it had to be important.

“Do you have a moment? I’d like to speak with you.” The Eliatrope girl said bluntly.

Just as the doll had opened her mouth to reply, the doors to Glip and Baltazar’s classroom creaked open, the two masters in question peeking through and glancing around in worry, no doubt because they had heard Amalia’s embarrassingly loud squeak from earlier. When Baltazar’s eyes set on the young doll, he offered her a kind smile. He was about to speak to her when he finally registered his little sister’s presence, his beady eyes going as wide as Amalia’s must have been just a few seconds ago.

It was Glip who spoke at last, though his voice betrayed his own surprise. “Nora! We weren’t expecting you. Is there anything we can do for you?”

“Perhaps you have come to return to Baltazar the book he lent you?” The beige dragon smiled weakly, a clear attempt to diffuse the mounting tension. But Nora just shook her head, her expression kind yet unreadable.

“Sorry, Baltazar. I still haven’t got around to finishing it. I promise I’ll be done with it soon, though.”

“It is quite alright. Take your time.”

Amalia had to suppress the urge to flinch when Nora’s magenta eyes settled on her yet again. “I actually wanted to talk to Amalia. I imagined she’d be done with her classes by now and came to see if she’d be up to some girl time.” She tilted her head to the side invitingly, her snowy bangs following her movements.

Immediately after, the doll could feel her teachers’ worried gaze on her, silently asking her if she was really okay with this. Wordlessly offering to give her an out. Her own dark brown eyes darting discreetly from Nora to them, she ultimately nodded along, plastering a small smile on her face.

She was still hugging herself when she said, “Sure, Nora. We can talk, if you’d like.”

She nodded. “Thank you, Amalia. Come, there’s much I’d like to tell you.” And with that, she turned around and beckoned for the doll to follow her. With a quiet yelp, the Divine Doll scrambled to catch up to the white-haired Eliatrope, coming to stand by her side as they made it through the palace corridors in silence.

As they kept walking, Amalia couldn’t keep her mind from wandering to Glip and Baltazar’s genuine concern for her. Touched, she couldn’t stop the warmth from spreading all over her being even if she wanted to. Not that long ago, the Wakfung master hadn’t exactly been enthused to have her as a student, but now he seemed to care for her about as much as any of the children.

But then, the rustling sound Nora’s magenta cloak made as she moved reminded her of the reason they had been worried for her in the first place. Not for the first time, she found herself just as concerned. Sneaking a furtive glance her companion’s way, she knew that, deep down, her unease had nothing to do with Nora, but with her brother.

The core of Efrim’s attitude remained a mystery, even after all this time. All Amalia knew for certain was that the periwinkle dragon didn’t like her. Not one bit. It wasn’t difficult to reach that conclusion; after all, how would one describe the constant glares he shot her way, the warning snarls and growls with bared teeth, and his brusque manner of addressing her?

What, his love language was supposed to be ‘barely restrained aggression’?

No, of course not. The mere thought was ridiculous. Amalia may have been young by virtue of how she was conceived, but she wasn’t a fool. She could tell when something was wrong with almost as much accuracy as she could tell the state of the plants around her. And even they advised her to be careful around Efrim.

What was more, for a while now she had had the feeling it wasn’t just the plants that grew worried over the tense relationship between her and the young dragon—and that was being generous. Yugo in particular always seemed to keep his eyes peeled whenever the two of them were in close proximity and he was there to see it. And today, Glip and Baltazar’s reactions were only further proof of what she already knew, with what transpired the other day at her garden only serving to cement her beliefs.

Efrim was out to get her. And she could only speculate the reason why.

Despite her usual nervousness whenever Nora’s twin was around, for once Amalia had been able to ignore the pit that usually formed in her stomach around him almost effortlessly. She had been far too excited about showing the Council of Six what she had been up to to really pay Efrim much mind.

How could she not have been ecstatic, right? Not only had she already prepared the soil for when the Council members told her what their people needed her to grow, but she had finally been able to craft her own Sadida Dolls! She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been a little envious of Dathura when she made use of what little time they had together to show her baby sister all her dolls.

As with everything back then, her natural instincts kicked into gear at the sight of the blue and green ragdolls, the Sadida within her urging her to heed their call and honour her father the best way their people knew. By replicating his greatest feat.

Which was, ironically, her and her sisters’ own creation.

So when Yugo gave her the go-ahead to cut loose with her powers, she didn’t hesitate to bring that dream of hers to life, especially when she knew her dolls could contribute greatly to the development and defence of the Eliatropes. They would carry out any task asked of them without complaint, and their versatility and resilience turned them into the perfect tools to have at hand when under attack.

There was a reason why young Sadida learned to craft dolls almost as soon as they had their motor skills under control! What could be better than a vegetable doll?

However, what she wasn’t counting on was that the attack would come from within the kingdom and directed straight at her.

While Amalia was already expecting she would have to explain Sadida customs to the Council, she certainly hadn’t accounted for the sheer venom that would be dripping from Efrim’s every word as he questioned her on her decision to create weapons, of all things. As his predatory eyes bore into her and his every exhale tore into her skin with unspoken accusations, the underlying message was clear: he suspected her of intending to turn her dolls against them in the future.

The Divine Doll still felt a shiver running down her spine at the memory, her heart squeezing almost to the point of pain at the silent suspicion Efrim’s cobalt blue eyes screamed as they were trained in on her. When she first met the young dragon, Amalia had been mesmerised by those eyes, shining like sapphires, but now, the more she was forced to lock her gaze to his, the darker they seemed each time. Like obsidians.

And at that moment when Efrim had struck that pose, ready to pounce on her, the obsidians had melted into tar, sticky and inescapable as it trapped her, surrounding her very being and threatening to plunge her to the dark depths of the abyss, never to see the light of—.

She frantically shook her head, willing those thoughts to leave her mind lest she risked drowning in them again. Loath as she was to think about it, even after Efrim abruptly dashed out of the door, it had taken her longer than she cared to admit for her heartbeat to go back to normal. Thank Sadida for Yugo, who remained by her side through it all, offering her wordless but much needed comfort through his mere presence or even some fleeting, yet lingering touches.

Regardless of what Efrim made her feel, one thing was for certain: for reasons beyond her, the young dragon didn’t trust her, and she would not be able to feel truly welcomed until he did.

But that still didn’t explain why Nora would want to talk to her in private.

Unlike with Efrim, who practically radiated hostility, Amalia didn’t sense any real malice coming from the pink-eyed Eliatrope. On the contrary, whenever they interacted or, at least, both were present, Nora seemed to be rather approving of her.

(Yugo would go as far as to grumble about how she was, perhaps, a little too approving of her, but whatever he meant by that always flew right over the doll’s head).

Still, that didn’t change one undeniable fact: Nora and Efrim were twins, and if there was one thing she had learned about the Primordial Eliatropes and their dragons, that was that no bond was stronger than the one each set of twins shared with each other. So, regardless of her own feelings towards Amalia, chances were Nora would always put her brother first.

“I’m sorry about Efrim’s behaviour towards you, Amalia.”

…then again, what did Amalia know? She was just a Sadida Doll.

Upon registering her apology, the doll stopped dead in her tracks as she tried to process what the white-haired Eliatrope had just said. Turning her head to face her, Amalia found herself staring at the back of Nora’s dark pink hood, for she had stopped walking as well and was now standing with her back to the doll, facing the landscape spreading before them.

They had halted their movements just as they ventured into the outdoors bridge that connected the South and North wings of the palace. Soon they were enveloped by Oma’s natural beauty and the sound of the local wildlife around them.

As Amalia made up her mind whether she should join her companion or not, the latter continued, “I know my apology isn’t exactly worth much.” She let out a mirthless chuckle. “After all, it should be Efrim apologising to you but…” She trailed off, a moment of silent understanding where words weren’t needed to express what she was trying to convey passing between them. “You still deserve an apology. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Her head hanging slightly as she contemplated Nora’s words, Amalia tentatively slid over to where she was standing. Giving her a sidelong glance, she copied her movements and her hands came to grip at the marble railing of the bridge as the two of them oversaw the scenery.

“Thank you, Nora.” She told her quietly, almost afraid to break the silence. The light afternoon breeze rocked her bangs, causing her to tuck the rebellious strands away from her face. “You really didn’t have to.”

But Nora just shook her head. Amalia was only noticing it now, but she hadn’t pulled up her mask to cover her lower face. The doll didn’t know why, but that made her feel more at ease. Like Nora was allowing herself to be open and vulnerable for once even in her presence.

“It’s the least I could do. Efrim was way out of line the other way.” She sent the green-haired woman by her side an apologetic glance. “I can’t imagine how he might’ve made you feel.”

“Can't say being questioned like that was the nicest feeling…” Amalia admitted timidly, rubbing her upper arm up and down for comfort and pulling her wristbands down by accident. She tugged at the garments lightly to put them back in their place. “I just don't understand why your brother seems to be out to get me! What have I ever done?”

“It’s not because of anything you’ve done, Amalia. At least, not really.” The words were out of Nora’s mouth before she even had the time to think them over. Startled by her own admission—and embarrassed, not like she’d ever admit to that—, she clamped her mouth shut, doing everything in her power to avoid looking the Divine Doll in the eye.

She didn’t have much luck, unfortunately. Because after a few seconds ticked by, she eventually caved and chanced a furtive look the doll’s way, only to immediately avert her gaze when it turned out her bright, brown orbs were staring almost owlishly back at her.

After much consideration, the youngest Eliatrope heaved a heavy sigh, giving up. Still, she weighed what she could say next, careful not to break her twin’s trust, “Efrim has… trust issues with outsiders. Especially now that we're the outsiders. He’s just worried letting anyone else in will have dire consequences.”

Even though she was still reeling by the Council member’s admission, Amalia’s mind locked in on one fact and refused to let it go. “Wait, ‘anyone else’?” She repeated, her eyebrows shooting to the ceiling when Nora flinched. “Nora, have you guys ever had trouble with someone before?”

But Nora refused to speak, refused to even look her in the eye. Instead, she was stubbornly averting her pink gaze, giving Amalia nothing but a view of her hood and her snowy hair waving in the breeze. She silently thanked the Great Goddess her cloak managed to conceal her hands, because her grip on the railing was so tight, her already pale skin turned even whiter around her knuckles.

Seeing how the other girl closed herself off, Amalia considered letting her be by dropping the subject altogether. Whatever it was that had happened was clearly something she didn’t want to discuss, and the last thing she wanted was to put Nora through an unpleasant experience. Perhaps she could try asking Yugo about it?

But just as she was about to let the matter go, memories of Efrim’s barbed comments and venomous looks flashed through her mind, igniting a new burst of determination to surge through her veins. She was sent by the gods to help Eliatropes and Twelvians alike, but she would be unable to offer much assistance if she didn’t know what happened and instead kept running away from it every time she faced an obstacle. It was about time she let go of her fear of the dragon and got some actual answers, instead of throwaway comments that only served to have the doll question even more things.

Taking a deep breath to steady her mounting nerves, Amalia leaned closer to Nora, determined to ask the question that had been plaguing her mind since their visit to Bonta.

“Nora, why do the Twelvians consider your people outsiders?”

Her reply was quiet but blunt, “Because we’re not from this world.”

That… actually took Amalia aback. Though maybe it shouldn’t have, as she had been learning the origins of the Eliatrope race from her classes. Not to mention, it was plain to see Yugo and his people didn’t worship any of the twelve gods native to the World of Twelve, like her father, Cra, Ecaflip… Both their appearance and knack for opening portals was proof enough of that. Instead, their patron and source of their powers was the Great Goddess Eliatrope, the source of all wakfu in the universe, as well as one of the Krosmoz’s creators alongside the Great Dragon.

And yet, for some unfathomable reason, the possibility that the Eliatropes didn’t resemble any of the Twelvian gods and were considered outsiders precisely because they weren’t native to the World of Twelve had never crossed her mind.

Much to her chagrin, she felt her cheeks grow hot, embarrassed by her own ignorance.

Still, sensing how Nora was about to close herself off yet again, she pushed through. She needed to know the truth.

“Then how come you came all the way here to settle down?” When the Eliatrope refused to answer, Amalia placed a hand on her shoulder, hoping to convey how she could tell her anything, as well as the fact that she would not budge on the matter. “Please, Nora, I just want to understand.”

Understand…

Nora perked up at that, at odds with herself. On the one hand, she feared she had already said too much. The last thing she wanted was to breach Efrim’s trust by revealing anything too personal. That, and deep down she couldn’t help but try to heed her twin’s warning—it would be very unwise to provide Amalia with information she could exploit in the future if it turned out Efrim’s suspicions were right and she couldn’t be trusted.

And on the other hand, Amalia just wanted to understand. Wasn’t that why she reached out to her instead of her brother in the first place? Because Yugo had assured her that, out of the two, Amalia would be more willing to listen to her and to try to understand what Efrim was going through?

With that in mind, it would be very unfair of Nora to disrupt the doll’s day with all the heaviness she brought with her only to then deny her closure when it was no longer convenient for her.

She slammed her head against the railing, the sudden action causing the green-haired beauty to flinch, and groaned pitifully. What was she supposed to do?

For her part, Amalia was beginning to regret ever bringing the Eliatropes’ past up. The last thing she expected was that the youngest Council member would react… Well, like that. She suppressed the urge to sigh in disappointment. Perhaps it just wasn’t the time for her to know the truth. Tentatively, she reached her hand out to gently place it on Nora’s back when—.

“You’re right. You have a right to know what happened.” Nora said completely out of the blue, straightening herself up and turning towards the doll, her pink eyes piercing through her skin until they reached her very soul. She extended an arm to the side, her palm glowing turquoise, “Come with me.”

Following the direction the Eliatrope’s arm was pointed at, Amalia’s eyebrows shot up and her mouth hung open a little as a burst of the ever-familiar bright blue energy flickered to life. Before she knew it, Nora’s magic had summoned a portal in the middle of the bridge. The doll couldn’t help but tilt her head to the side at the sight of it, intrigued. Now that she thought about it, that had to be the first time she ever saw the youngest Eliatrope make use of her magic—or, at least, really pay attention to it—; that in itself was noteworthy, given she had been living under the same roof as her for weeks. However, it was nothing compared to her surprise as she realised Nora’s wakfu manifested very differently from Yugo’s.

Even though she’d much rather be caught dead than go through another one of the king’s portals, Amalia had seen enough of them from his daily training sessions to believe herself to be quite well acquainted with them. And Nora’s were nothing like his.

It didn’t get to the point where, while Yugo, who usually wore blue clothing, created blue portals, Nora, unmistakable with her use of magenta garments, emanated stasis-like pink energy instead. Of course not; that would be ridiculous. But even Amalia, whose way of channelling her wakfu was completely different from any other inhabitant of Oma Island, could sense whose portals were whose from both appearance and a feeling resonating from deep in her gut, almost like how Yugo’s wakfu vision worked.

Because while the Eliatrope King’s magic manifested in perfectly circular portals, Nora’s had four sides that converged in sharp edges. It took the Sadida Doll longer than she cared to admit—and a little bit of blinking, stupefied—to realise that her portal was actually a square, though its vertical position made it look more like a diamond.

“Erm… What’s this”? She asked meekly, her finger pointing weakly at the portal in front of her as she finally tore her gaze from it to stare questioningly at Nora.

Oh, dear Doll Master above, please don’t let her greatest fears come true…

The Eliatrope just looked at her like she had grown a second head, her brow furrowed, especially when the doll kept watching the portal with as much cold disdain as if it had personally offended her. “That’s one of my portals…” She couldn’t help but state the obvious, gesturing between it and Amalia and not understanding the reason behind her apparent apprehension. “You already know that’s what we, Eliatropes, use as means of transportation… right?” She raised an eyebrow.

Amalia just waved her off, although her posture remained stiff and the smile curling at her lips was strained. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Yugo’s always opening portals around me, and Glip and Baltazar help the children with their own powers practically every day!”

“Then what seems to be the problem?” Nora ventured.

The doll got straight to the point. “Do you want me to go through it?”

There was a beat of silence where all Nora could do was blink, flabbergasted.

“Yes, that is the reason why I summoned a portal in the first place. To take us somewhere else quicker than we would arrive on foot.” The Eliatrope explained, although a part of her kept questioning why she even had to explain something so obvious in the first place. Especially to Amalia, who had been living there with them for weeks! Surely she would know what her people used portals for by now, right?

“Oh, I see.” Amalia said, trying to sound casual and unaffected, but she remained as tense as before. “Um, isn’t there… I don’t know, another way we can go wherever you want to take me to instead?” She asked, her voice suspiciously high-pitched. “I’ll gladly let you kidnap me, if that’s what you want!” She joked, and the white-haired girl in front of her thought to herself that the doll was clearly unaware of her attractiveness for her to say something like that so nonchalantly.

She distinctly remembered herself saying she would gladly take Amalia if Yugo didn’t want her.

Unaware of the thoughts running through Nora’s mind, the green-haired girl just went on, desperate to avoid going through another portal for as long as she lived. “But, I mean, can’t we just walk there…?”

Nora blinked once, twice, thrice as she struggled to come to grips with what the doll had just told her. She tried to find sense to her request, only to come up empty-handed. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yes, it’s just, you see…” The wild beauty stammered, growing increasingly uncomfortable under the other girl’s scrutinising pink gaze. Although that was nothing compared to the building pressure that was having that thing practically right next to her. “The thing is, I don’t go through portals.” A beat. “Ever.”

“What?!” Nora couldn’t believe her ears, her eyes going as wide as the very portal she had created. “Hasn’t Yugo ever invited you to pass through one of his portals before? I could’ve sworn he did…” She muttered that last part to herself.

“Oh, he has.” She couldn’t help but flinch when Amalia’s voice took on a darker quality, a shadow passing over her features. “That’s why I categorically refuse to go through another!” She exclaimed, crossing her arms over her torso and sticking her nose up in the air almost petulantly with a huff. “No offence, Nora, but those things always do a number on my stomach, and I’m not looking forward to getting reacquainted with my lunch this afternoon. Thank you very much.”

Nora just stood there, her shoulders shagged and her posture hunched over from disbelief, gaping like a fish at the Divine Doll. She couldn't believe it… Straightening herself and bringing a hand to massage her temple as she gathered her thoughts, she had to ask, a hint of exasperation in her voice, “Wait, that’s it? You don’t like going through portals because you get dizzy?”

A stubborn nod was all the answer she got.

She exhaled deeply through her nose, mustering up every ounce of patience she possessed. “Amalia, I’m sure whatever happened last time to make you sick was just a fluke.” She tried to reason, to no avail.

“Oh, trust me,” the doll laughed sarcastically, “it was not a fluke.”

How many times would she have to have this conversation before it finally sank in? Her vomiting after going through a portal was as much of an elemental law as water boiling at 100º!

Seeing as the Sadida Doll would not budge in her decision, with a sigh, Nora tried a different approach—appealing to her common sense.

“Amalia, I understand you might not like going through portals, after all, it’s not the kind of magic you’re used to. The Great Goddess knows nothing takes us quite as aback as when you make use of your powers.” She giggled, thinking back to all the times they’d been startled by vines growing in places where they shouldn’t. Then, she grew a little more serious. “But if you want to understand the reason our people are outsiders, moreover, to learn the reason we came to this world in the first place, then I really need you to come with me. And I’m afraid the fastest way is through one of my portals.”

She extended her pink-clad hand towards the doll, who peered down at it suspiciously, and smiled at her before the two locked eyes, brown meeting pink.

“What do you say? Do you trust me?”

Eyes darting back and forth between her extended hand and back at Nora, Amalia couldn’t help but comment drily to herself how the Council of Six seemed to always be asking for her trust when they didn’t seem all that willing to extend the same courtesy to her. But, ultimately, her desire to know far outweighed her reservations. After all, if Nora was willing to share her people’s past with her, that must have meant she trusted her, right?

With a soft exhale, Amalia finally gave up, her arms falling to her sides in defeat before flashing Nora a small smile and reaching out to grasp her hand in hers.

Before they could so much as move a step closer towards the portal, she jabbed a finger in her face, though. “I’m warning you, whatever happens when we go through the other end won’t be pretty.”

Nora couldn’t help but agree with her in private, though not for the same reasons Amalia was referring to. She really had no idea of what awaited her on the other side. Still, it seemed the two of them had made up their minds and neither would back down.

“I’ll take my chances.”

And with that, she pulled Amalia closer towards her and motioned for her to jump into the portal, disappearing from sight as it closed behind them. And yet, weirdly enough, all Amalia could think of as she went through the portal, the familiar currents of wakfu turning her stomach upside down, was that it felt nothing like Yugo’s. She found herself missing the strange sense of comfort he seemed to imbue to his own magic as it traversed her body…

.......................................................................................................................

As Amalia had predicted, watching her heave loudly as she stood on all fours on the floor wasn’t a pretty sight. Nora couldn’t help but grimace as another loud gasp escaped the doll’s throat, feeling guilty for not taking her warning more seriously.

Not sure what to do with herself, she mostly stood there, watching as the doll’s heaving seemed to gradually subside. With a wince, she tried reaching out a hand towards her, even though the distance between them meant she wouldn’t actually make contact with her skin. “Are… are you okay?” She asked sheepishly.

“Well, at least now I only dry-heave.” Amalia said drily, trying to imbue her voice with an optimism she most definitely didn’t feel and her efforts falling flat. “Not that long ago, I would have thrown up all over the place…”

Oh, those poor bushes… They had seen so much horror.

“Hey, look on the bright side.” Nora offered, her tone light yet cautious. “Before you know it, you’ll be able to go through portals no problem!”

Amalia’s answer was concise and to the point.

“Over my dead body.”

Neither needed to point out the fact that Divine Dolls were virtually immortal for the message to be crystal clear.

“Okay…” Nora said, tapping her hands against her thighs awkwardly while Amalia got over the remainder of her affliction. When she finally found the strength to stand on two legs, though her stance was a little wobbly at first, the Eliatrope ventured, “Are you feeling better?”

Amalia wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked at it disdainfully before answering, “Not yet, but I’ll be.”

Now that she was back on her feet, she spun over herself, eyes darting in every direction as she took in the scenery around her. They seemed to be in some sort of cavernous system, the only source of light coming from the numerous bulbshrooms spread all over the walls. Large stalactites and stalagmites served as columns, and blocks of white sandstone had engravings on them that forced the doll to squint her eyes at them to get a better look at what they portrayed, to no avail.

One thing was for certain, she had no idea where they were supposed to be.

“So, what was it that you wanted to show me?”

“This.” Nora said simply in return, and instead of elaborating on the matter, she just turned around, her pink gaze staring intently at what she had in front of her.

One sceptical eyebrow raised at her reaction, Amalia followed suit, turning her head to the direction the young Eliatrope was transfixed by… And promptly gaped at the sight, a gasp leaving her throat and her brown eyes going wide as she scanned every single detail displayed before her.

Covering every single inch of the sandstone wall standing right in front of them was the biggest mural Amalia had ever seen in her admittedly short life. It burst with colour over its white canvas, splotches of blue, pink, black, red, white and so much more interweaving into each other through intricate strokes until it converged into one huge, unified picture. And while the technical aspects of the mural were nothing to scoff at and were definitely deserving of a good amount of the awe currently rendering her speechless, that wasn’t what Amalia’s mind had fixated on.

The reason her eyes were glued to the mural before her was the scene it represented.

Sprawled all over the white stone, the splotches of colour took the unmistakable forms of the Council of Six; seeing the Primordial Eliatropes and their dragons painted so distinctively, she could only assume the remaining purple, yellow, and even blue patches were meant to represent the rest of their race. Despite the mural’s minimalist style, it was easy to perceive the dynamism behind the scene, clearly trying to portray movement and convey constant action.

Indeed, nothing in the painting suggested a domestic scene taken from the day-to-day chores of the Eliatropes and their leaders. On the contrary, the image before her was something that caused a primal feeling in Amalia, a kind of fear born from the deepest, most inexplicable form of empathy, to resurface. Beyond all else, she hoped that kind of thing would never become a daily occurrence.

Staring right back at her was a battle.

Even with the Council’s simplistic design, the Sadida Doll had no trouble making out scenes such as Glip and Baltazar shielding small children from danger—which she was able to deduce thanks to the fact that the spots she believed represented the children were significantly smaller. In another, Qilby and Shinonomé appeared to be treating the injured, a pit forming in the doll’s stomach when she realised the heavy use of red in that corner wasn’t just because of the dragoness’ ruby-like scales; many had got hurt and needed treatment. The black splotches she associated with Chibi and Grougal were isolated from the rest, hunched over a table as they seemed to be working tirelessly in order to find a solution to their problem. The turquoise figures that represented Mina and Phaeris knelt on the floor in front of what she could only assume was a statue of the Goddess Eliatrope, praying for a miracle or begging for mercy, maybe both. Unlike their siblings, who remained by their twins’ side, Nora and Efrim stood at opposite sides of the mural, seemingly running themselves ragged as they struggled to help their people to the best of their abilities.

But the scene that truly made Amalia’s heart sink was the one displayed at the very centre of the mural. She was so lost in her thoughts, her mind didn’t register when she brought her hands over her chest or she took a step closer. Right then all she cared about, despite her better judgement, was getting a better look; so with a swift flick of her wrist, she summoned a verdant tendril to lift her up until she was face-to-face with the image currently depriving her of breath.

She gingerly placed a hand on the stone, her fingers delicately tracing Yugo’s figure as he rode on Adamaï, a wakfu sword in one hand and a shield in the other, and the two charged headfirst against their opponent—a monstrous mechanical contraption painted in black as dark as coal and lines redder than blood.

A shuddering breath escaped her at the sight, causing her to snatch her hand away and tuck it closely to her chest as she wordlessly ordered her vine to put her back on the floor.

“Nora,” her voice was barely above a whisper, and she was genuinely surprised she was actually able to utter a single word. “What is this?”

Her answer came immediately afterwards, resigned acceptance mixed with something unreadable tinged the Eliatrope’s voice, almost as she had already been expecting that reaction from the doll and had been bracing herself to answer.

“This is the reason why we came to the World of Twelve, Amalia.” She said calmly as she walked over to the startled doll, her own gaze fixed on the mural. Had Amalia been looking in her direction, she would have noticed the unmistakable glimmer of sadness and pain glinting in her pink irises. “This is why we’re considered outsiders by this world’s inhabitants. Because we lost our own world.”

“Do the... Do the Twelvians know about it?”

A scoff.

“Even if they did, I highly doubt it would change anything.”

Amalia was almost too afraid to ask. “What… what happened?”

Though she heaved a mirthless chuckle, Nora’s tone was solemn.

“To this day, we still don’t know.”

The doll’s previous suspicions were only proven right the more Nora spoke, and the more Nora spoke, the more her heart broke for the Eliatropes.

According to Nora, their people had lived in perfect peace and harmony for millennia thanks both to their mother, the Great Goddess Eliatrope, for giving her children a safe place they could call home, and the Council of Six, who dedicated their lives, throughout countless lifetimes, to ensuring their subjects never wanted for anything. As they had never known true misery and corruption, the Eliatropes weren’t like the Twelvians, whose distrusting and prejudiced nature was apparent, but they desired to reach out to other races and expand their little world a bit nonetheless.

Naturally, the Mechasms’ arrival felt like a blessing, and for many years, it was. The otherworldly species that seemed to operate on rules of their own soon formed a quasi-symbiotic relationship with the Eliatropes. Before they knew it, their homeworld was as much of the Mechasms’ as it was theirs. Nothing could break their bond.

Or so they thought.

Amalia was so engrossed in Nora’s story she failed to even realise the loud gasp she heard echoing around the palace’s walls—as Nora had explained to her they were actually in the palace’s underground levels, which were still under construction and heavy revision from Chibi and Grougal—was actually her own. But Nora paid her no mind, her eyes distant as she revisited the past, seemingly staring right through the doll and into a reality that was only kept alive in her mind.

One day, without warning, the Mechasms, led by their young prince Orgonax, stabbed them in the back and declared war on the Eliatropes. At first, they were naïve enough to believe all could be easily resolved if Mina and Phaeris just led a diplomatic meeting to get to the bottom of the matter and assuage their beloved neighbours. But for the first time in history, the Ochre Dofus twins failed to diffuse the situation, their pleas falling on deaf ears; the Eliatropes and Mechasms would go to war with each other.

The Council of Six immediately took charge, mobilising soldiers and civilians alike in hopes of assuring either victory, or, at the very least, their well-being. The battles spammed over the course of weeks, depleting them of their resources at an alarming rate; and their once lush and prosperous world soon descended into mayhem and madness, blood seeping deep into the very ground.

Yugo and Adamaï, as their people’s greatest warriors, fought valiantly and with everything they had, but after a while it became apparent they were only postponing the inevitable. If they didn’t find a solution, and soon, the entirety of the Eliatrope race would fall.

In light of those odds, everything seemed bleak, and their subjects’ morale took a heavy blow; it truly seemed that it would be the end. And yet, right as they were about to succumb to the darkness around them and within, Qilby and Shinonomé offered what seemed to be their only possible saving grace.

They were to leave their world and travel the Krosmoz in search of another place to call home.

“And that’s what we did.” Nora continued. Amalia couldn’t help but flinch in surprise when she turned to look her in the eye; truth be told, she came to believe the other girl had forgotten all about her, lost in her memories. “We hopped on the Zenit and travelled the Krosmoz, in search of our new home. After decades where we came up empty-handed, we were about to throw in the towel—.”

“When you found the World of Twelve.” Amalia finished for her, having heard enough to connect the dots on her own. “So that’s why you need help with earning the Twelvians’ trust, because, much like the Mechasms, to them you’re outsiders who might wish them harm?”

“I won’t deny it hurts to be on the receiving end,” Nora admitted. “But given what we went through, I’d be lying if I said I don’t understand where they’re coming from either.” She glanced back at the mural. “Maybe if we’d been half as wary of the Mechasms as the Twelvians are of us, the war wouldn't have happened and we wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

Even though Amalia understood—now more than ever—Nora was speaking from a place of pain, she still couldn’t help the painful thud that resonated in her ribcage at her words. If the Eliatropes had never arrived at the World of Twelve, then she would have never met them. She would have never met Yugo…

Wait, if the Eliatropes had never settled on their world, then the gods would have had no reason to give them their blessing and try to ensure they maintained a positive relationship with their followers. Without the Eliatropes, she would have never existed…

The realisation hit her like a lightning strike, causing her pulse to spike up while, paradoxical as it was, the flow of the blood in her veins slowed down dramatically. In that state where she toed the line between anxious and numb, Amalia’s jumbled thoughts drowned out Nora’s voice, whatever she was saying then amounting to nothing but white noise.

The doll buried her hands in her emerald locks, her brown eyes frantic as a million thoughts ran through her mind. She had never given it much thought until now, but suddenly, the very idea of not having been born at all terrified her to her core.

Could it be that she served no purpose without—?

“My, my, my. What do we have here?” A chillingly cold voice rumbled. “Is it not enough that you have seduced our king, that now you must dig into our past as well?”

The sound of that voice broke Amalia out of her stupor, while the sheer venom dripping from it froze her to her core. She didn’t even need to turn around to know whom it belonged to.

“Efrim!” Nora gasped, as taken aback as the petrified doll.

Slowly, no doubt afraid of what she might encounter, Amalia turned around, flinching when she locked eyes with the dragon, a cold fury making those pools of dark blue come alive as they narrowed in on her. The sapphires turned into ice shards.

Nora soon came to her rescue, coming to stand between the two with her palms raised up in a placating manner. “It’s not what it looks like, Efrim. Amalia didn’t go digging for anything, I took her here on my own volition; she didn’t even know what I’d be showing her!”

“You needn’t come to her defence, Sister.” Efrim told her gravelly. Even though he was talking to his twin, his eyes looked past her and straight at the doll. “There is no doubt in my mind she manipulated you into telling her exactly what she wanted to hear.”

“That’s not true!” Amalia found herself exclaiming. Once she was past the initial surprise she felt for having stood up to the dragon, she steeled her resolve and pushed through. “Efrim, I understand what happened with the Mechasms probably left a deep scar but—.”

“You know nothing!” Efrim bellowed, his voice booming around the caverns of the palace. Aggravation, fury, and hatred took hold of his body; his shackles raised, his tail thumped against the floor almost rhythmically, and his crystalline wings unfolded over his form.

Amalia barely had time to marvel at their beauty as they glinted under the bulbshroom light when he snarled, his fangs bared. “You do not know what it is like to be betrayed by someone you trusted with your life! You do not know what it is like to see your loved ones get hurt and feel powerless to stop their suffering! You do not know what it is like to lose everything you have ever known and loved!”

With every word he spouted, he slithered closer and closer to the doll, who, much to her chagrin, couldn’t do much besides stick closer to Nora, who still stood between the two, acting like a wall as she tried to protect Amalia. Deep down, she knew she could use her powers to protect herself, but the fact that it would only confirm Efrim’s suspicions if she attacked him, even if it was in self-defence, kept her from simply ensnaring him with one of her vines.

And even if she didn’t care about proving Efrim right, she found she couldn’t move at all. A deep, primal fear taking hold of her whole body as the dragon advanced menacingly.

Nora’s startled gasp was all the warning she got. Before she knew it, Efrim had lunged himself towards her, his claws outstretched. She could only watch as Nora opened a portal right in the middle of her twin’s trajectory, only for the dragon to manoeuvre around it at the last possible second and collide right into the Divine Doll, sending both of them tumbling to the ground. Her heart clamouring in her ears, she tried to squirm out of Efrim’s grasp, but it was all for naught; he had her pinned against the floor with his tail, while he immobilised her hands by grabbing her by her wrists and over her head.

Her brown gaze widened in terror at the close proximity of his fangs, glinting dangerously as he smirked down at her. “Some demigoddess you are.” He sneered disdainfully. “For all your flashy moves and fancy dolls, you can’t even use your powers to protect yourself. Yugo won’t always be there to protect you, you know?”

“Efrim, stop!” Nora pleaded, horrified by the lengths her twin was willing to go. But he just ignored her.

“And to think you have the gall to say you understand.” He scoffed, his dark blue eyes narrowing as he leaned closer to her to whisper in her ear. “You’ll never understand what it's like to suffer, Little Doll. And I’ll make sure you don’t get to hurt anybody else!”

Amalia gasped, letting out a strangled sound as tears ran down her cheeks when Efrim loosened her grip on her to raise one claw high in the air, ready to strike her down. Paralysed by more than just Efrim’s grip on her, she could only brace herself for the worst. She closed her eyes shut, praying to Sadida that it would at least be over soon, begging him not to punish Yugo and his people for the mistakes of one single Council member.

When after what felt like an eternity nothing happened, she tentatively opened one eye, the scene unfolding right in front of her tearing another gasp from her throat.

Efrim had indeed brought his claw down, but instead of tearing right through her as she feared, it was stuck in the ground, in the space right beside her head. Even when all she could hear was her frantic heartbeat in her ears, she could still distinctly feel the way her heart sputtered and constricted in her ribcage, fear and relief clashing against each other in a frenetic dance.

Her breath hitched when Efrim carefully lifted his arm back up and he leaned closer to her once more, his voice, raspy and unforgiving, barely above a whisper. “The only reason I don’t finish this right here and now is because, as of now, your demise would do more harm than good to my people. And only because of that. Don’t you ever forget it.”

Just as the dragon leaned back to look down at the terrified doll scornfully, a blue wakfu tendril shot forward and gripped his wrist tightly, holding Efrim’s claw back, while another wrapped itself around his torso and pulled him away from the Sadida Doll, eliciting a surprised yelp from the dragon. As Amalia scrambled to straighten herself and crawled as further away from him as possible, she took notice of Nora using her magic to hold her brother back.

“Efrim, that’s enough!” She screeched, grunting as she used every ounce of her strength to pull her twin back and away from Amalia.

Her eyes widened when, rather than resist, Efrim just replied calmly, “Fear not, Sister. As long as she is of use to our people, no harm will befall the doll.” He flashed Amalia a side-glance that froze her to the core, the unspoken threat hanging heavily between them. “You have my word.”

Having said his piece, the young dragon wasted no time in wriggling out of his sister’s constraints, breaking the wakfu binds with as much ease as if they had been made out of mere paper. Before either of them could so much as call out to him and tell him to wait, Efrim had already spread out his crystalline wings and taken flight, a cloud of dust picking up after him. And just like that, he was gone, his silhouette shrinking more and more with each flap of his wings.

Nora remained unresponsive for a spell, her pink eyes fixed on her twin’s retreating form, before everything that happened finally caught up to her and she hurried to help Amalia up, frantically looking her all over to make sure she was alright. But even as Nora apologised profusely on her twin’s behalf and assured her she would take care of it, and begged her to, please, don’t say anything to Yugo because things had been tense between Efrim and their older brother and she didn’t want to make things worse, Amalia was only half-listening. In fact, not unlike Nora a few seconds ago, she, too, had yet to tear her brown gaze away from the direction the young dragon had left.

Her heart still echoing in her ears as she stared at the space Efrim occupied just a mere minutes before, her mind was elsewhere. Her run-in with him and his harsh words and even harsher truths replaying in her mind over and over.

51 notes · View notes