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geekgirles · 5 days ago

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The Doll and the Dragon

Chapter 11: Intertwined

Word Count: 26,955

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Chapter Summary: "Sacred Dance Day has arrived! A starry-eyed Amalia finds herself amidst all the decorations and preparations for such a momentuous occasion, both excited and worried for what the future might hold for her and her standing with the Eliatropes. Will she be able to find the perfect way to contribute? And what about Yugo? Is it possible that this year's celebration has a special meaning for him as well? And what could it be?"

At the very beginning, there was nothing. Scientists and religious leaders alike have long theorised there was only darkness, void and lifeless. A darkness so all-encompassing it couldn’t be described. It would be senseless, after all. What was the point of speaking about the vast coldness, the neverending silence, or the seeping hopelessness if none of those concepts even existed yet?

But then, nobody knows exactly when, something nothing short of miraculous happened.

Nobody knows or will likely ever know how it happened or where they came from, but the two very first souls came into existence. Both of them beings of great power and the source of the two quintessential energies of what would later become the known universe. Both of them the other’s complete opposite in every regard.

One of them was feminine in nature. She encompassed concepts that would later become known as ‘love’ and ‘space’, with the astonishing ability to travel to any plane through portals. Her bright, turquoise hues represented life and creation, a clear symbol of her motherly nature. She was the Great Goddess Eliatrope, the source of all wakfu in the universe, of all life and mobility.

The other was masculine in nature. With his ethereal and evasive, yet reptilian, form, the first dragon was born. The powerful magenta of his form bore the power of destruction and stability. He was the Great Dragon, the source of all Stasis in the universe, the origin of death itself.

Wakfu and Stasis. The two primordial energies in the universe; two sides of the same coin. The eternal balance between life and death, of endings and new beginnings alike.

Perhaps it was because they were the only two souls in existence, or maybe it was that that old saying about how ‘opposites attract’ is indeed as old as time, or in this case, even older, but Eliatrope and the Dragon fell in love.

With not much to do during a time when nothing was everything and everything was nothing, the two beings found themselves drawn to each other. And so, they began to dance. The more they danced, the more they loved each other, until they became intertwined, both their forms woven into one, forever sealing their fate as life and death would become inseparable from that point onwards. What death did, life couldn’t undo, and wherever death visited, life would flourish anew.

It was from that dance and the unshakable balance it created that the Krosmoz was born. Where there used to be nothing but darkness, now were millions upon millions of shining stars, illuminating the endless vastness of space. Solid celestial bodies would become planets, patiently waiting for their time to harbour life. And the first ever souls, those that would eventually become the twelve gods and that would eventually spawn countless more, were first created.

The eternal balance between life and death had been established, and with it, its cycle could finally begin.

“And that is why we celebrate Sacred Dance Day.” Yugo finished his retelling, leaning over the railing in Amalia’s balcony with the doll by his side.

He couldn’t help to preen himself under her admiring gaze, shining like the stars above. Although he couldn’t take all the credit of mesmerising her to himself—the ambience had really helped. With the stellar mantle hovering overhead from where they stood at her balcony, the light coming from her room illuminating their profiles, it felt as though they had been there, witnessing the very birth of the Krosmoz.

“Amazing…” Amalia breathed. Her full attention was on Yugo, her head resting in her palm as she listened to his tale. “I don’t think Twelvians have anything quite like it. Maybe Huppermages, but they care more about the Krosmic Balance itself than its creation…” She trailed off, her nose scrunched up in thought.

The Eliatrope just chuckled softly and gave a helpless shrug.

“Well, unlike the Twelvians, we Eliatropes and our dragons actually worship the Great Goddess and the Great Dragon. It’s only natural we would take certain things more seriously than them and vice versa.” As if to emphasise his point, he opened a small portal, no bigger than the palm of his hand.

“Touché.” It was Amalia’s turn to shrug. “When did you say the celebration will take place?”

“A week from now.”

She blinked as realisation dawned on her. “It’s that why the entire village is decorated?”

She’d been meaning to ask for a while now, having first taken notice of the festive ambiance one day when she was headed to the forest located at the outskirts of town, where Glip’s training took place. Between her lessons, tending to her garden, and other distractions, she never had the chance to ask.

A wry smile made its way to her lips when he began to sheepishly rub the back of his head in that way that was so characteristically him.

“Yes, sorry for not telling you sooner.” Her smile dimmed a little when he winced. “I meant to do it earlier, but… life got in the way.”

The doll refrained from pointing out how they had actually been spending a lot of time together lately. For some reason, there seemed to have been a shift in Yugo’s demeanour, and the rest of the Council of Six’s, too, for that matter. Everyone appeared to be more… vigilant, more alert, if that was even possible. With Yugo and Adamaï choosing to spend most of their free time with her—which, while always a welcomed thing, stoked her suspicions—, and even the guards being more attentive of what she did than ever.

But seeing as such an important celebration was just around the corner, she shrugged it off as them simply being on edge trying to make sure everything went off without a hitch. She tried to ignore the small pang of guilt she felt when she realised her presence had probably derailed their usual plans quite a bit.

Instead, she simply leaned closer to Yugo and put a comforting hand on top of his, and softly said, “It’s alright. Thank you for telling me. Thinking back, I should have known, seeing as I am already familiar with this piece of your history and culture.”

Even as he drew lazy circles on her skin with his thumb, his eyebrows still shot up in surprise, “You do?”

Another shrug. “From Glip and Baltazar’s classes.” In retrospect, she was a little disappointed with herself for not connecting the dots sooner. Shaking those thoughts away, she sent her friend a coy look. “So, tell me. How do you celebrate Sacred Dance Day, exactly?”

The king was only taken aback for a few seconds before he let out a puff of air that soon morphed into quiet laughter. Holding the doll’s hand in his until they were dangling from the balcony—and secretly relishing when her mesmerised eyes followed the movement and the sweetest blush lit up her cheeks—, he started, mirth shining in his eyes:

“It’s always the same, to be honest. Although that doesn't make it any less special.” He was quick to point out.

The doll nodded. “Of course not.”

“Of course not.” His smile widened a little. “As you’ve already seen, it’s tradition to decorate our homes with silks, sheer and edged in gold, and charms carved in stone in the shape of a portal. Now that I think about it, we still have to decorate the palace—I’ll talk to Nora about it.” He added, as if thinking aloud. Then, catching himself, he went on with his explanation. “But that’s only the beginning, and it’s something we actually do before Sacred Dance Day actually arrives.

“On that day, families will spend the morning together, celebrating what life has given them. But it’s in the evening when the fun really starts.” He smiled devilishly at her, his pearly whites peeking through his lips in a way that sent butterflies to her stomach. Why, the doll didn’t know. But she did know she liked it when Yugo made her feel like that. “That’s when we all gather together around the temple, in the middle of the main square. I officially inaugurate the festivities with a little speech, and the fun begins.

“There’s games set out for young and old alike, music fills the air, and everyone mingles and enjoys themselves. Following that, we all share a hearty dinner filled with laughter, relishing in the ironic intimacy of a full-blown party. And then, the real magic happens.”

His wording had the desired effect. Amalia’s eyes were shining with anticipation. “What do you do?”

“It’s Mina and Phaeris’ turn to lead the ceremonial aspect of the festivity.” He revealed, his tone almost conspiratorial. “They deliver this wonderful, heartfelt speech in honour of the Great Goddess and thank everyone for their offerings. And then, they lead everyone in our annual reproduction of the first Sacred Dance.”

The doll positively lit up, a dazzling smile splitting her face in two. “You guys dance! Oh, that sounds so fun! I haven’t danced since the banquet at Bonta.”

Shyly looking away, Amalia allowed herself to get lost in the memories for a few instants. It really had been long since she last danced. Not only with Yugo—the thought making her heart ache with longing—, but herself. She remembered quite fondly those times where her father would lead a dance with her and her sisters. Those moments always filled her with a sense of peace like she hadn’t felt in a while.

It was funny, now that she thought about it. She hadn’t realised how much she missed it until Yugo brought it up.

Her gaze snapped back at the king in surprise when he rushed out to clarify. “Erm, well… Yes and no.” His heart dropped to his stomach when timid disappointment flashed across her face.

“You don’t dance?”

“No, no! Of course not!” He blurted, only to throw his head back in frustration when his unfortunate wording only disheartened Amalia further.

He rubbed his hands down his face, exasperated with himself. Ever since he realised his feelings for Amalia, he felt clumsier than ever. He took one deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly, trying to compose himself.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t explain myself properly.” He told the doll, who hung onto his every word. “What I meant to say is we do dance, only that’s actually how the night ends. Let’s just say it’s only part of our way of honouring the Great Goddess and the Great Dragon.”

“Oh. I see…” Amalia said tentatively. Her spirits lifted at the idea of getting to dance after all, the corner of her lips twitched upwards into a small smile. “Then what’s the whole picture?”

“‘The whole picture’?” Yugo repeated, tilting his head in confusion.

“Yes, you know, if dancing’s only part of it, how do you honour Eliatrope and the Great Dragon?”

“Oh, right.” He cleared his throat and nudged her playfully. “This is actually the pièce de résistance of the whole event, Amalia, you’re going to love it.”

Giggling at his theatrics, she simply gestured with one hand for him to get on with it already.

He chuckled. “Right. Well, as I said, Mina and Phaeris lead the whole ceremony. So once they’re done giving their speech, they lead us all to raise our hands in the air and will our wakfu to manifest.”

“Wait,” The doll interrupted him, blinking rapidly. “That’s it? You guys just create portals?”

“I never said that.” The Eliatrope chastised her lightly, booping her nose a few times to get his point across. They both averted their eyes bashfully when his actions fully registered in their minds.

Amalia, who kept threading her fingers through her evergreen hair nervously, was the first to break the silence, “So, if you guys don’t create portals, what do you do?”

That seemed to bring Yugo back to reality, who jolted in place. He cleared his throat in an attempt to appear nonchalant, “W-what we do is we project our energy unto the night sky, and with Mina and Phaeris’ help, those wisps of wakfu are shaped into a representation of Eliatrope and the Great Dragon as they dance together.”

“Oh.” Was all Amalia could say. Because, what can you even say to that?

“And then we dance under them.” Yugo finished, already anticipating she’d want to know about that little detail in specific.

“Good.” She nodded so resolutely that Yugo couldn’t help but snort. “Dancing is what distinguishes good parties from mediocre ones.”

“You really love to dance, don’t you?” He smirked.

She smirked right back, though hers held a touch of mystery. “It's a Sadida thing.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Please, do.”

They managed to hold their laughter in for all of two seconds. The quiet of the night was broken by their breaking down in hysterics, with Amalia playfully shoving Yugo away when he started making faces just to make her laugh harder. All tactics that worked flawlessly, much to her chagrin. Eventually, they quieted down, although their cheeks still flushed from mirth and they were holding onto their aching stomachs.

As his uproarious cackles faded into chuckles, Yugo wiped a tear off his eye. “You’ll have to tell me what’s so important about dancing one day.”

Hiding her giggles behind her hand, Amalia returned his affectionate gaze with a mischievous one of her own. “Maybe one day you’ll find out by yourself.”

The grin he answered with was so tender she could feel herself melt. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

The doll’s breath hitched in her throat, and she scrambled to tear her gaze away from his, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she willed her heartbeat to go back to normal. Hard as she tried, she just couldn’t understand what happened to her whenever Yugo was involved. Her mouth would dry, her heart would start thumping wildly in her ribcage like an untamed Dragoturkey, she would be both incredibly comfortable and bashful in his presence, and she was constantly flushing like an idiot.

At first she thought that was normal between friends. Yugo was quite literally the first person she interacted with outside of Inglorium, where she would spend most of her time with her father and sisters, anyway. She assumed all those butterflies in her stomach were the usual elation from making a new friend, someone to spend your time with and to cherish.

But the more people she met, the more she began to doubt her theory.

Even though it was true she still spent most of her free time with Yugo, she had also been branching out to other people in the span of the last few months. People she felt comfortable with and, if not friends, she believed she could at least call acquaintances. People, who, regardless of the appropriate terminology to refer to them by, welcomed her with open arms.

Adamaï, Baltazar, Glip (eventually), the children, Chibi, Grougaloragran, Kérubim and Atcham, Alibert and Ruel… Nora was difficult to define: Amalia had the feeling the pink-eyed Eliatrope held no grudges against her, but she was bound by her loyalty to her brother, who very much hated her. All that led the doll to think of her relationship with Nora as bittersweet, even if it was no fault of hers.

She shook those thoughts away. She refused to let Efrim damper her good mood yet again. Especially when she still had much to figure out.

The truth was, she enjoyed their company, and she wanted to believe the feeling was mutual between them. And yet, despite their supposed friendship, she certainly didn’t feel the same way about any of them as she felt about Yugo.

To say the questions left her flummoxed would be an understatement. Why was Yugo so different from everybody else? Why was it that only he could lift her spirits up when she was lost in despair, at the same time as the idea of losing him felt like a knife in her heart? Would this have anything to do with what her father said about suitors and brides—?

“A little tofu told me you had a hand in the creation of the Magnolias.” Yugo’s voice cut through her pondering like a knife. Suddenly, she didn’t remember what she’d be wondering about in the first place.

Blinking blankly as she regained her bearings, all Amalia could offer was a weak, “Huh?”

“Chibi and Grougal.” He clarified. “They told me all about the Magnolias.” He smirked, leaning his head against his knuckles as he scooted a little closer to her side. “Gotta say, I’m not all that surprised. It definitely has your mark.”

Feeling shy under his praiseful look, Amalia tried to play it off by turning her back to the balcony, her hands resting at both sides of her on the railing. “Yeah, well. After we almost died in a work-induced fire, I’d say anything that doesn’t involve being burnt to a crisp is a vast improvement, don’t you think?”

Yugo’s eyes widened like saucers, his very being trembling in alarm.

“Come again?” He choked out.

But Amalia didn’t elaborate. “But really, it was a joint effort.” She waved the mere notion off dismissively. “After Chibi and Grougal explained how the Wik-Fi Network worked and their issues with finding replacements for their usual materials here, all I really did was provide them with the means necessary to achieve their goal. I’m sure they would have managed just fine even without me.”

It was clear Amalia wasn’t going to assuage his fears concerning the very real possibility that she was almost burned alive, so he chose to stow his questions for later. He’d have a word with Chibi and Grougal on proper safety measures and on finally adding some darned windows and sprinkler system to their workshop later. For now, he contented himself with squeezing the doll’s hand in his, his heart fluttering at the adorable squeak of surprise she let out at the contact.

“Nevertheless, it was a success.” He told her softly. “I know for a fact they were struggling with it, and thanks to you, my people can finally communicate just like they did back home. It’s a small taste of familiarity in a whole new world, but a needed one nonetheless.”

There! There right there was the source of her turmoil!

Oh, how in Sadida’s name was she supposed to make peace with the mysterious yet exhilarating way Yugo made her feel, if he kept making her little Ogrine heart race with just a few sweet words?!

It was downright torturous at this point. An agonisingly sweet torture.

Her mouth feeling like cotton (something she usually only experienced in her rag doll form), it was a miracle when she finally managed to change the topic. “So…um…” She coughed awkwardly. “Uh, anything else that you’d like to tell me about Sacred Dance Day?”

Mimicking her position, his back now to the railing as well, Yugo just shrugged nonchalantly. “Not really, no. That’s everything important.”

She had just given a noncommittal nod when he rushed out to add, “No, wait. Sorry. Now that I think about it, do you think you could help us decorate the palace? My siblings and I have had our hands full lately and couldn’t do it until now.”

She beamed at him. “Sure thing!” Then, she let out a wistful sigh. “Anything to get to experience Sacred Dance Day, even if it’s only a little and from my room.”

The king raised a confused eyebrow. “What are you talking about? Amalia, you’re invited to the celebration. You know that, right?”

With a small gasp, her whole demeanour lit up like the stars above them. “Really?!”

His own expression softened. “Yes, really.” He surprised even himself when his body moved on its own accord and closed the distance between them just so, enough so their faces were one breath away from each other as he whispered, “That is, if you want to.”

Amalia didn’t even have to think about her answer. Thank Sadida, because with Yugo at such close proximity she wouldn’t have been able to form a single coherent thought even if she wanted to. “Of course I’d love to go.”

And then, right before they could close the distance between them completely, a jolt went through both of them, causing them to all but jump away from each other, their cheeks on fire and hearts hammering in their chests. Whatever moment they had was now lost.

“G-great!” The Eliatrope said, his voice cracking embarrassedly. “T-then, I’ll… I’ll see you there!”

“You bet!” Amalia squeaked, wishing a carnivorous plant would swallow her whole when she realised she had just used finger-guns with Yugo, like some awkward loser with no social skills.

The king was saved from further embarrassing himself when he remembered something important.

“Oh, just one last thing.”

“Hm?”

“Since this is actually quite an important day for us, it’s tradition that we all dress to the nines for the occasion. And since you’ll be participating too, I guess that includes you.”

“I see… I suppose, then, that I can’t exactly wear my adventuring outfit to the ceremony.” Amalia guessed.

“Considering my sisters would kill me if I let you wear nothing short of regal to the festivities, I’m afraid that no, you cannot.”

Her nose scrunched up in thought for a moment as she held her chin between her thumb and index finger. “I suppose I could always come up with something else.” She splayed her hands in surrender, though her stance was resolute. “I’m sorry, Yugo, but I categorically refuse to wear the same dress as my arrival or the banquet at Bonta for something as important as Sacred Dance Day. It’s a matter of principle.” She asserted, arms crossed over her chest, indicating she wouldn’t budge on the matter.

“Never crossed my mind.” He said instead, honestly taking her by surprise. “I was actually thinking along the lines of sending the royal tailor to your chambers sometime this week so he can sew a new, custom-made outfit for you from scratch.”

The Divine Doll’s reaction was instantaneous. No sooner had the words left the Eliatrope King’s mouth, did she begin to squeal excitedly and to thank him profusely. As she prattled on and on about all the ideas she already had for her dress—because it had to be a dress, she wouldn’t take no for an answer—and that she wanted to discuss with the tailor as soon as he arrived, Yugo was rendered helpless in her presence.

As Amalia excitedly shared her plans with him, all he could do was stare adoringly down at her and privately think about his own reasons for looking forward to Sacred Dance Day.

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

Amalia couldn’t help but find it ironic how, despite being the daughter of a literal god, that is to say, an object of profound, spiritual admiration with festivities revolving around the very notion of worshipping him, she actually knew very little about what honouring a god entailed.

Mainly, she had been completely blindsided to find out part of celebrating Sacred Dance Day was a mandatory holiday period where businesses would either close early, or take the day off entirely. Same with Glip and Baltazar’s classes. Apparently, it was tradition to relax and spend the week preceding the festivity with one’s family, even when that meant putting a temporary stop to the cultivation of knowledge and physical training.

The very next day after the holiday was also free, since the Eliatropes would be too tired from partying to be productive.

And that is why Amalia suddenly found herself with little to do. With her afternoons now free from having to train (although Glip had strongly encouraged his students to work on what they’d learned the very last class before their little vacation period), the Divine Doll found herself with a lot of time in her hands. Time she mostly dedicated to her garden, but there was only so much she could do before Qilby and Shinonomé could finally pay her that one visit where they were supposed to share what kind of plants their clinic needed from her.

Normally, she would have taken advantage of her nearly empty schedule to spend more time with Yugo, and hopefully figure out what that feeling she experienced around him was at last; but he and the rest of the Council were busy preparing for their roles to play in the upcoming celebration.

According to the palace staff, while the king and Adamaï were busy overseeing everything, Mina and Phaeris barely left the temple. They would depart at the break of dawn, and return well after sunset, when the sky was pitch black except for the moon and stars illuminating the night.

While a part of the doll told her that was the Ochre Twins’ responsibility and they knew what they were doing, she still couldn’t help but fear for their health. She just hoped they ate and slept well enough.

All in all, despite her undeniable excitement over getting to witness what Sacred Dance Day was like firsthand, Amalia would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little bored from the lack of activity.

Hence why, despite her reservations, she jumped at the chance to help Nora decorate the palace when she came knocking on the door that afternoon and told her Yugo had asked her to go look for her. To be honest, she had almost forgotten about that.

And that was how she found herself carrying boxes filled with delicate fabrics and ornate decorations all around the palace. Her arms ached from the weight, but it was better than tracing the murals on her wall for the umpteenth time. At this point she was probably capable of drawing those paintings herself with her eyes closed…

The two women’s efforts were currently focused on decorating the large, majestic columns lining up the main hall that led to the throne room. Amalia couldn’t help but be grateful that Chibi and Grougal’s common sense hadn't been abandoned for this wing of the building and they didn’t forget to add windows. That way, she could just summon her vines from outside for help. That made everything so much easier.

She was perched on a ramble, its ends wrapped snugly around her form like a harness, as it guided her along the height of the column she was currently working on, draping the fabrics and hanging the stone-made ornaments along the polished marble. Another pair of thinner, more manoeuvrable vines acted as a second pair of arms, rummaging through the boxes on the floor in search of more materials to hand over to her whenever her current stash ran out.

Nora completed the same task through the use of her square-shaped portals. But when the pink-wearing Eliatrope had offered to do the same for Amalia, the doll had politely but adamantly refused. At her swift yet resolute response, Nora couldn’t help but feel grateful for the mask covering her face—she wouldn’t have been able to hide her amused grin otherwise.

Thank goodness she hadn’t offered to carry the doll around as she floated in the air! She had a feeling that would have ended up doing Amalia in for good. And something told her Yugo wouldn’t take it kindly if she upset the Divine Doll, especially not after the shocking discovery he and Ad made.

Securing the knot joining two different pieces of silk together, Nora’s light mood darkened slightly as the reminder sobered her up. She sneaked a glance towards Amalia, taking in the way her tongue stuck out cutely as she directed all her focus on hanging one of the stone portals.

It was both astonishing and relieving to see how she remained unaware of the going-ons around her, especially when she seemed to be at the centre of it all.

Once their king and his dragon twin had found out about their mysterious intruder, they wasted no time calling an emergency council meeting and warning their siblings of the possible danger in their midst. They didn’t even flinch before the Council’s scandalised reactions upon finding out their—or rather, her— target had been Amalia. Even as Efrim set out to exteriorise his disapproval of the Divine Doll as per usual, it was Adamaï who promptly shut down his attempts, pointedly reminding him their top priority right now was ensuring her safety and with it, that of their people’s.

For his part, Yugo didn’t waste a second in organising everyone so Amalia would be watched over at all times. Whoever was in charge of patrolling each week would keep an eye out on her chambers in particular, and the rest of the Council was to find a way to remain close to her. For the most part, it didn’t pose a problem for anyone, since whenever Yugo himself wasn’t there by the Sadida Doll’s side, her training sessions with Glip and Baltazar meant they had it covered. But now that classes were out due to the upcoming holiday, they had to get creative.

Asking Amalia to help out with the preparations for Sacred Dance Day was an idea equal parts ingenious and subtle, Nora admitted to herself. That way, Amalia remained blissfully unaware of the potential danger she was in, at the same time as it allowed for whoever was in charge of guarding her to remain close without their behaviour coming off as suspicious or unusual.

Bright pink eyes blinked rapidly as the doll’s sweet voice broke her out of her thoughts, “So, I’ve been meaning to ask… Why fabrics?”

“I beg your pardon?” Nora raised an eyebrow, uncomprehending.

From where she was, held securely by her vine, Amalia held up the piece of silk in her hands, “Why do you use fabrics to decorate for Sacred Dance Day? I can understand the ornaments, since they’re clearly modelled after your portals, but this…?” She trailed off meaningfully.

Eyes widening slightly in understanding, Nora nodded. “It’s in honour of Eliatrope.”

It was Amalia’s turn to blink, confused. “But isn’t that what the portal decorations are for?”

The pink-eyed Eliatrope couldn’t help but laugh lightly at her earnest confusion. “They represent different things.” She said simply. Pointing her open palm at the box on the floor near her, she summoned a small portal, a piece of silk and a stone ornament landing neatly into her outstretched palm. “The portal represents the Great Goddess’ power, her gift to us; whereas the silk handkerchiefs represent the goddess herself.”

The doll’s inquisitive eyes darted back and forth between the objects in her companion’s hands and her placid smile, her mind scrambling to understand what she was trying to say, until… “Okay, I give up. How does a handkerchief represent a goddess?”

“Don’t masks represent your father?” Nora shot back knowingly, only for Amalia’s swift counter to cause her smirk to drop from her face.

“My father always wears a mask. It’s practically his trademark. And with good reason, too—anyone who stares at Sadida’s bare face suffers a fate worse than death.”

There was a moment where all the Eliatrope woman could do was openly gape, either at the revelation or the nonchalant fashion in which the doll uttered it, she wasn’t sure. In the end, all she could say was, “I suppose you learn something new every day…”

“So…” Amalia trailed off meaningfully.

Nora, recovering from her previous shock, raised an eyebrow, “So?”

“So…” The doll repeated pointedly. “How do silk handkerchiefs represent your mother?”

The other girl just chuckled. “Our mother is different from the other gods in a lot of ways. For starters, she lacks a humanoid body.”

Even though a part of Amalia couldn’t help but wonder how in the World of Twelve Nora knew that when she was pretty sure she had never met the twelve gods, she opted to stow that away for later and asked, “Then what does she look like?”

Her face scrunched up in confusion when Nora pulled a face of her own, making a so-so gesture with her hand.

“To be completely honest, like a porcelain doll’s face with a giant, bright blue wig.” She nodded solemnly when it was the Sadida Doll’s turn to pull a face. “Yeah, I know.”

“But I thought a god’s followers were supposed to take after them in terms of powers and appearance? You certainly inherited her powers, but you guys look… Well, like that,” she pointed meaningfully to all of Nora, “while she looks like, well, like you said��” She finished lamely, looking down while fidgeting with her hands.

The Eliatrope just smirked coyly. “That coming from the doll whose father always wears a mask while his followers are essentially green-haired, dark-skinned humans.” She was quick to point out.

Amalia splayed her hands in surrender. “True, true. There’s no denying you have a point there. But Sadida men do have their faces covered by their manes, and we are essentially tree people, my father’s domain. By contrast, you don’t even have blue hair, that’s the Feca.”

“Touché.” Then, seemingly processing her words, she tilted her head, unsure. “What’s up with that? Isn’t their goddess a brunette?”

The doll shrugged. “Beats me.”

There was a moment where an awkward silence fell over them, neither of them knowing what to say or how to continue with their bizarre conversation. At least, until Amalia broke the quiet:

“...if it’s any consolation, Xelor’s face is on his chest. When he moves his pectorals, his eyes blink.”

“Ew.” Nora oh-so-eloquently replied. She absent-mindedly thought back to the Xelor royals and aristocrats they met at Bonta. Even with their bodies covered in armour and enough bandages that her first instinct was to wonder what kind of horrible accident they had been in, from the look of things, that was still nothing compared to their patron god’s eldritch qualities.

“I know.” Not sure if that little titbit of gossip had been of help or only made things worse, the doll just pushed through, hoping to have her curiosity sated so they could both finally move on from the awkward conversation.

“So!” She and Nora both winced, having been a tad louder than she intended. She tried again at a more acceptable volume. “So you use silk to represent the Great Goddess’ more…ethereal form?” She offered.

“In a way.” Nora said, thankful for the much needed change of topic. She turned her focus back to the piece of fabric in her hands, her fingers delicately running along its surface, the material making a rustling noise under her fingertips. “As you can imagine, Eliatrope’s unique physical appearance sets her apart from the rest of the gods.”

Even though the doll’s inner thoughts commented dryly on the fact that she was probably hairier than even Ecaflip, on the outside she was smart enough to muse, “I suppose that’s true, yes.”

“Unlike the twelve gods, who all have at least one pair of arms and a physical body, the goddess Eliatrope has neither—her vast mantle of hair stands in for both.” Taking advantage of Amalia’s momentary state of shock—and mentally lamenting she couldn’t see the look on her face, with her wide eyes and gaping mouth—, the pink-eyed council member continued. “That’s what the silken handkerchiefs are supposed to represent; her hair.” Floating closer to a still bewildered Amalia, she traced the fabric with her fingers as she explained, “See? That’s why it’s a rich shade of turquoise with golden edges, because that’s how our mother looks.” Then, softly, so softly the doll wouldn’t have heard her if she hadn’t been paying attention, she added, “It’s a small comfort during these trying times; a way to say she is still with us.”

Brown eyes softening, empathising with the meaning behind the tradition, though not without a small pang of longing as she thought about her own divine father, Amalia called after Nora as she went back to decorate her side of the hall. “Has it been long since you last saw your mother?”

While she posed her question hoping for Nora to speak fondly of their mother and assure her she was always looking over them, Amalia couldn’t shake this cynical feeling at the back of her head, gnawing at her with the possibility of the Great Goddess Eliatrope being as neglectful to her children as Kérubim, Atcham, and Harebourg accused their parents of being. A sinking feeling rooted itself in her heart when the Eliatrope’s words failed to assuage her fears.

“Since shortly before the war with the Mechasms.” She admitted, her voice distant as she once again lost herself in a sea of painful memories that threatened to drag her down below and drown her. Chancing a glance towards the doll, she winced at her disheartened expression and braced herself for the uncomfortable questions she would have to shut down. She really wasn’t in the mood to think about the war right now.

Only to be pleasantly surprised when all the doll asked instead was, “Do you miss her?”

The question still hurt, as it unintentionally opened old wounds that had yet to heal, but it was still far more manageable.

“I do. We all do, really.” She sighed, and for a moment it appeared as if she alone carried the entire weight of the world on her tiny shoulders. “She was our mother, and we all loved her deeply, almost as much as she loved us. Though I will admit we in particular shared a special bond with her, one unlike any of our siblings’.”

“Oh, you were closer to her than the rest of your siblings?”

“Yes, but even our bond was nothing compared to her and Efrim’s.”

As soon as the name rolled off her tongue, the two of them stiffened up, the air around them becoming charged with unspoken tension.

Pink eyes frantic at her slip of the tongue, Nora turned to face Amalia, her gaze searching hers, and she cursed herself when she found her rooted to her spot, completely frozen yet her whitened knuckles showing she was holding onto her rambles for dear life. The Eliatrope girl could feel the knot forming at the pit of her stomach at the sight of the doll’s bark-like complexion blanching, gaining an almost deathly parlour.

Who could blame her? Her dragon twin had become off-limits as a topic of conversation between them ever since their last encounter.

Rushing to her side, Nora reached out to the Divine Doll but never made contact with her skin, her hand hanging almost uselessly in the air as she tried to apologise. “Amalia, I… I’m so sorry. I…I mean… Forget I said anything. I just…”

As if awoken from a dream, Amalia began to blink rapidly, slowly but surely regaining her bearings. Even though she still looked mildly surprised when she took notice of the pink-clad Eliatrope’s close proximity, jolting slightly in her makeshift seat, her shock melted into understanding at the sight of her.

Taking pity on the poor girl’s frazzled state, knowing full well it was due to feeling guilty over accidentally putting her on edge, the Sadida Doll offered her a small but kind smile as she gently lowered her outstretched hand.

“Nora, I’m fine. Don’t beat yourself up about this.” She let out a self-deprecating laugh. “It’s my own fault for being so sensitive when it comes to… your twin.”

“But—.”

“Not ‘buts’.” She told her kindly but sternly, sending her a look. “Besides, I should really stop being so on edge around him, lest we risk Yugo catching wind that something is definitely wrong between us.”

While she tried to imbue her voice with some humour, it rang hollow even to her ears, causing her to wince and to avert her gaze. While she absentmindedly rubbed her arm for comfort, accidentally dishevelling one of her wristbands, Nora remained afloat, biting down on her lip behind her magenta mask and fidgeting with her fingers nervously, almost too afraid to ask.

At last, she mustered up the courage to voice the difficult question right at the tip of her tongue, begging for release. “Speaking of Yugo… Does he, you know, know?”

Amalia’s voice was distant yet unwavering. “No. He doesn’t know.” Nora flinched when she set her searching brown eyes on her. “Isn’t that what we agreed on? That we couldn’t tell Yugo what happened so as to not worry him when he’s already so busy?”

It was Nora’s turn to break eye contact, feeling uncomfortable in her own skin for some reason. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Once again, silence settled between them, heavy and oppressing as it weighed heavily over both women. Their minds elsewhere, Amalia was completely taken aback when she suddenly registered the lack of light coming from the windows. Frowning in confusion, she turned her head in search of the sun casting its rays down on them, only to start when all she saw instead was the faint glow of the moonlight and far away stars.

They must have been working on this area of the palace longer than they realised.

Hovering behind her, Nora must have reached the same conclusion. Her heavy sigh drew the doll’s attention back to her, only to see her uselessly trying to tuck a strand of pinkish white hair behind her covered ear right before she stretched, making her bones pop!, and turned around. She watched her go even as she called out to her over her cloaked shoulder, “We should really hurry up and finish this hall already.”

Despite the emotions brewing inside her, inside both of them, Amalia acquiesced. She guided her verdant helping hands in their task of finding and handing her more decorations, but the faint light of the moon wasn’t helping. Even when her sight had finally adjusted to the darkness, she still had to squint her eyes as she tried to tie the knots connecting the pieces of silk, or when she searched for the nails she could hang her stone portals from.

Noticing Amalia’s struggle—most likely due to her constant grunts of effort and frustration—, Nora peered over at her from over her shoulder. For a moment, she stared questioningly at the doll and the trouble she seemed to be having all of a sudden, not really comprehending, until one last glance over the hall helped her realise the relative darkness they were working in surely had something to do with it.

Perhaps out of the two of them it was Efrim who possessed night vision, but one didn’t get to carry out as many successful night patrols as Nora had under her metaphorical belt if they couldn’t manage themselves in the dark. That was why she hadn’t even taken notice of the fact that the torches lining up the walls had yet to be lit up since it was still early for the guards’ night shift.

Shaking her head fondly at the struggling doll, she chose to take pity on her and be merciful for once. “Amalia, do you want me to light up the sconces so you can see?”

“That’s alrig—.” Amalia began to say, only to cut herself off and do a double-take when her companion’s choice of words began to sink in. “Wait, how come you don’t have a problem with it?”

She could only gape as the Eliatrope shrugged. “I’m used to working in the dark.”

“Care to elaborate on that?” Amalia deadpanned, bemused.

A special kind of outrage rooted itself into her heart when all Nora did in response to that was smirk.

“Nope.” She said, popping the ‘p’.

Still gaping and feeling personally affronted for some reason, Amalia huffed and, arms crossed over her chest, she turned back around. “Fine. Whatever. See if I care.” Much to her chagrin, her face heated up with indignation when she heard Nora snickering behind her.

As much as Nora would have loved to laugh at Amalia’s haughty little number—if it were up to her, she would have been going at it for hours—, she knew they had a job to finish. Although she supposed there was no real rush, seeing that as long as Amalia had someone near watching over her, she was still technically fulfilling her mission of keeping her safe.

Still, it wouldn’t hurt to sober up a little. “Amalia, are you sure you don’t want me to light up a fire or something?” She actually flinched at the unamused glare the doll sent her over her shoulder.

“After your brothers and I almost died in one the other day?” She deadpanned dryly. “No, thank you.” Wincing at the reminder, Nora was about to apologise when Amalia, a mischievous grin on her face, cut her off. “Besides, I got this covered.”

“Huh?”

Face scrunched up in confusion even behind her mask, the pink-eyed Eliatrope could only look on as the Divine Doll splayed one hand palms-up. Before she could question her on what she was doing in the first place, a small bud made out of leaves materialised on her mahogany palm. As it opened, revealing a small, floating orb of light, Nora’s astonishment was such that she actually lowered her mask as she stared at the sphere in awe. Her bright magenta eyes followed it in wonder when it left its creator’s hand and began to float all around the space until making its way back to Amalia, who directed it to hover above her and light up her way.

Amalia’s pride and joy at the sight of her latest development managing to render her companion speechless was somewhat doused when the Eliatrope woman blurted out, “What does light have to do with plants?!” Pointing at the luminous sphere in bewilderment, her pink eyes darted back and forth between the Sadida Doll and her… Whatever it was. Her mouth agape. “How did you even do that?!”

Huffing with a roll of her eyes at her reaction, having hoped to bask in the glory of the moment for a little while longer, it was the doll’s turn to smirk smugly. Despite everything, she had to admit she enjoyed knowing something Nora didn’t for once.

“As a matter of fact, plants and light have a lot to do with each other.” Amalia pointed out matter-of-factly. “Remember? Most plants practice photosynthesis, the natural process of changing sunlight into chemical energy—you know, food.” She snickered to herself, almost as if she’d just remembered a funny joke. “If you think about it, there are few things that are more connected to each other than plants and light.”

“Yeah, but that still doesn’t explain how you got a plant to blossom into your personal flashlight!” Nora shot back, growing a little miffed at the doll’s condescending attitude just because she wasn’t intrinsically connected to plant-life.

But Amalia just raised a finger up. “I was getting there.” She chided her playfully, earning herself a raspberry that, after a small, offended gasp, she returned quite fervently. “As I was saying,” she made sure to draw out the words to emphasise her point, ignoring her companion’s groans, “there actually are several plants and fungi capable of emitting light. As it happens, a prime, available example would be the bulbshrooms in my room.”

Nora blinked. She had honestly forgotten about those.

“Is that one of the plants capable of emitting light?” She inquired, the initial shock and aggravation in her tone replaced by genuine curiosity.

Amalia’s smile was so bright it almost put her plant to shame. “Not exactly. It’s something I’ve been working on.” She beckoned the orb closer to her and showed it to Nora, who had closed the distance between them and was hovering in mid-air. “Normal bioluminescent plants do just that, give off light. This little guy right here could be used for so much more! I just need to keep working on it.”

“Really?” Nora raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Well, if everything goes well, they could also give off heat, almost like a mini sun.” She explained. “That way, I could grow plants that only grow in warm climates even during the cold season.”

The pink-clad girl hated herself for having to burst her bubble.

“...you do know we live on a tropical island, right?” She pointed out. “We don’t exactly have cold seasons.”

But much to her surprise, the doll just shrugged nonchalantly. “I know.” Then, she flashed her a knowing look. “But not everyone lives on a tropical island, right? I figured you could establish a solid trade with the Twelvians if you offered them the chance to grow produce all year round in exchange for their alliance or whatever you need.”

Nora was so taken aback by her logic, by the way the young, naïve, inexperienced Divine Doll somehow managed to be three steps ahead, that she didn’t hear her question.

Blinking rapidly, she asked her to repeat herself almost absentmindedly.

“What do you think? Do you like it?” Amalia repeated her question. There was so much hope and anticipation in her brown gaze that the Eliatrope knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that if her king had seen it, he would have keeled over. She’d be lying to herself if she said she couldn’t relate to the feeling, to be honest…

Luckily for her, this time she could afford to be as honest as she wanted. “It’s wonderful, Amalia. Like a small Sadida star.”

Yugo’s heart would have stopped at the way she beamed under the praise. Hers sure did.

After that, the two agreed that it was high time they really focused back on their task and completed it once and for all. So, turning back to their respective pillars, the two women went back to decorating, Amalia’s little star lighting up the hall and making things easier for them. Even if Nora wouldn’t admit it was actually more helpful than her own, trained sight.

They had been working in silence for a while, making steady progress, when Nora sensed it. A rather pronounced shift in Amalia’s wakfu and the air between them. The light-hearted atmosphere had turned heavy and stifling, and she already knew what the doll was going to say before she even opened her mouth.

“Nora,” she started, and the Eliatrope braced herself. “Do you really think it’s best to leave Yugo in the dark regarding what happened with Efrim?”

Steeling herself, she repeated the same reasoning she gave her when it all happened. “Yes, Amalia. Trust me. My brother already has a lot on his plate, the last thing he needs is to worry about his little brother.”

“I know, it’s just…” A pregnant pause. Even if she didn’t turn around, Nora was listening intently. “I just don’t feel comfortable hiding things from him, that’s all.”

“Well, don’t be. You’ll see, all Efrim needs is a little time to get over himself and get used to you. Before you know it, he’ll be fully accepting of you and it’ll be like that little incident between you two never happened.” She tried to imbue her voice with as much reassurance and confidence as she could, her own concerns calming down when the Divine Doll finally relented, muttering how she was probably right.

This time, the pang of guilt she felt over her own selfishness hurt a little less.

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

There were many upsides to having her own garden. The chance to truly test her limits and explore her Sadida magic to its full potential was the most obvious one. Even if she maintained she wanted to grow her plants the traditional way and give them time to blossom on their own unless it was absolutely necessary to speed up the process, Amalia still got to experiment with them a little.

First were her Sadida dolls, all of them acting nearly independently from her despite being bound to their mistress. Those little rag dolls were the best assistants a Sadida could ever ask for! While some of them remained near her to lend a raggedy hand as she worked on her latest project, many others busied themselves around the garden, tending to its various needs—controlling irrigation, working the ground for new seeds, measuring each plant got the necessary sunlight and the ground’s pH levels, fertilising the crops…

She had yet to work out the final kinks on her explosive dolls, but since it wasn’t a priority, Amalia wasn’t worried.

Another reason to be thankful for her garden was that she felt like she could really make a difference with it. While her training with Glip and Baltazar was her way of helping herself, her garden opened countless possibilities for the Eliatropes. Thanks to her instinctive knowledge of nature and her innate green thumb, Amalia didn’t just know what to grow to meet their needs, but she was also capable of anticipating them before she was even informed there was a need for anything at all.

And right now, they needed medicinal herbs and plants they could extract healing substances from. All she had to do was wait for Qilby and Shinonomé to pay her their long-awaited visit and inform her of what exactly she had to grow. As deep as Amalia’s connection to plants was, she had to admit she wasn’t confident enough to act on her own and impose her gut feeling on them. Rather, she preferred to trust their judgement, as the Crimson Twins were their people’s medics and, judging from what Shinonomé told her all those weeks ago, their knowledge on medicine would rival even the most powerful and experienced of Eniripsas.

Perks of living thousands of years and remembering every single lifetime, she supposed. Although she could never shake the feeling that there was something more going on beneath the surface. The graveness in the dragoness’ voice as she shared their story etched onto the lines of her long, elegant face kept flashing through the doll’s mind.

Shaking those memories away, for it would be of no help to dwell on them now, Amalia focused back on the task at hand. She let out a blissful sigh as she relished the feeling of her hands coming into contact with the soft grass. That gentle coolness as the blades caressed her skin. Already they had so much to tell.

By far, the best thing about having her own garden was the fact that it allowed her to connect with nature on a much more personal level, easing her Sadida instincts as they finally answered plant-life’s call, listening intently to its soft, yet lively, voice.

As much as she’d come to like Oma Island and its many wonders, nothing could beat the feeling of becoming one with Sadida’s treasures. What good was it to know the language of the trees if you could never hear them because you were too far apart? Even as she stood on her balcony, her body leaning forward precariously to the point where she constantly risked falling down, all that managed to make its way to her were soft murmurs. There simply was no comparison with the symphony of voices reaching her now.

While a Sadida’s link to nature couldn’t be broken even by death itself, staying away from the greenery was still unnatural. Sadida knew it best—the best way to keep your feet on the ground was to go barefoot so you’d be able to feel its many wonders.

Oh, how had she missed the ever-present embrace of plant-life in her daily life! It was such a stark contrast going from being surrounded by otherworldly plants and trees in her father’s dimension, to being enclosed in stone walls here at the Eliatrope palace. Even her adventures with Yugo were but an appetiser. Something meant to make her work up an appetite as she waited for the main course.

But now, her meal was finally served, and all her needs were finally sated.

That was when she felt it, that familiar pulse going through her that never failed to disorient her at the same time as it grounded her.

A small gasp escaped her lips, not because she was genuinely surprised—she had been waiting for the next time it would pounce—, but because, even then, she could never predict when the pull would manifest itself again.

Yet, there it was. As usual, she could sense the energy radiating from it was fainter than what it should actually be, but that didn’t change the fact that it was still powerful, all-encompassing, beckoning. The pull circled all over her form like a snake, coming to rest over her heart, only she wasn’t afraid. Whatever it was, something deep inside her told Amalia she should never fear it. So, she didn’t fear it.

Instead, she followed it.

Hands still resting against the floor, she focused all her attention on the burst of energy coming from within and expelled it. Suddenly, the pull gained volume, form, morphing from a simple feeling into a thread, something she could follow and trace back. It wasn’t enough so she could have a clear reading on its origin, but it was more than she had had in months.

Taking one last deep breath to steel herself, Amalia chose to follow its lead.

She was immediately mesmerised by what she saw through her third eye. That thread, a thin, nearly unsuspecting thing of emerald green, seemed to be connected to everything! Wherever she looked, every root, every flower, every bush and tree and even weed had at least one tendril of the same strand coming out of them and convening at the same cord. That same, all-consuming cord tracing back as far as met the eye.

Using every ounce of concentration she possessed, she tried following it to its very origin. Perhaps if she quite literally followed the thread, she’d be able to unravel the mystery.

Her brow furrowed in deep concentration, Amalia followed the filament back to what felt like entire continents, each plant it was connected to telling a completely unique story. She was getting closer, she could feel it with every urgent thumping of her heart. It was as if all she had to do was reach out her hand and—.

“Did we come at a bad time?”

Just like that, like someone had cut the connection with a pair of scissors, the thread was gone. Caught off guard by the sudden change, Amalia snapped her eyes open, letting out a small gasp. Blinking wearily a few times, she turned her head every which way, trying to find her bearings. It took her a little longer than she cared to admit to taking notice of Qilby and Shinonomé looking down at her with varying expressions of intrigue.

When she finally did, it was like a slap on the face.

She hastily sprung up to her feet, muttering rushed apologies and sheepish explanations of what she’d been up to and how time seemed to get away from her, all the while she nervously dusted her clothes off.

When she finally (begrudgingly) understood she wouldn’t be able to look any more presentable than she did already—her pants stained with grass at the knees, dirt underneath her fingernails, beads of sweat pooling under her bangs, and her green ponytail askew and dishevelled—, she tried to clear her throat in an attempt to appear nonchalant instead.

“Qilby, Shinonomé! It’s great to see you again! What brings you here?” She internally winced the moment the words were out of her mouth, her brain too slow to catch up with her tongue.

As always, Qilby was kind enough to remind her exactly what brought them there.

“My, Lady Amalia! We’re here because we had agreed on coming to tell you all about the plants we need you to grow for our clinic. Do Divine Dolls have such bad short-term memory?” He adjusted his glasses smugly as he regarded an uncomfortable Amalia like she was one of his souvenirs, only to let out a yelp of protest when his sister elbowed him softly.

Without even sparing him a glance, the dragoness smiled down at the doll. “Do forgive my brother, my Lady. You know how he can be; he just loves to tease!”

“Right. Of course…” Amalia muttered, not too convinced but eager to move the conversation along. Perking up again, she gestured for the twins to follow her. “If you please, I’d like to show you the space I have prepared in anticipation of your visit. As soon as you tell me what you need, I can start working on it.”

With quiet agreements and nods of assent, Qilby and Shinonomé followed the Divine Doll to a remote corner of the garden. One look at the ground beneath their feet was enough to know the earth had already been worked on in preparation for the upcoming crops.

“As you can see, we’ve organised the ground into different sections,” she pointed at each of them. “Each one will hold a specific species you’re in need of. Thanks to this separation, they won’t steal nutrients from each other and harm their development.”

“Quite ingenious, my Lady.” At least, it would be if it weren’t because their people had been doing the same thing for generations. Qilby had to resist the urge to roll his eyes, in fear of his sister delivering another painful elbow to his side.

To his surprise, the doll just waved his praise off. “Not at all! These are all very common agriculture techniques. Even your farmers use them.”

While her twin was left floundering like a fish, Shinonomé intervened. “That is quite true, Lady Amalia. Thank you for taking it into account.”

She shrugged, smiling, “If it’s not broken, don’t fix it.” This time, both of them were taken off guard by what she said, “Besides, most plants like it better this way. It’s the most fair solution.”

“Right, I forgot she speaks plant.” Qilby noted sarcastically, his dragon twin agreeing through their psychic link.

“Well!” Qilby clasped his hands loudly to get the doll’s attention, the grin on his face just a tad too big to be genuine. “As fascinating as this all is, my sister and I would truly hate to impose on you for much longer. So if it is alright with you, we have taken the liberty of listing everything we need. We hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, no. That’s quite alright, and very thoughtful of you.” She took the piece of paper out of Shinonomé’s proffered hand and skimmed over its contents with a critical eye. Then, she snapped her fingers, summoning a group of Sadida dolls to aid her—making both siblings jump; Qilby clutching his chest— and, without further ado, set out to work.

As Amalia instructed her little helpers to get the seeds and tools they would need and they scurried off to complete their assigned tasks, Qilby and Shinonomé kept trying to sidestep the dolls as they came and went. At one point, the dragoness had to grab one by the tail and, with a stern look and a puff of smoke in warning that made it flinch in fright, set it back on the ground. Qilby had half the mind not to summon a portal and have all the enchanted toys tumble out of its other end.

They couldn’t afford to look too impatient or purposeful. They had chosen that day specifically to visit the Sadida Doll for a reason, and they weren’t going to let such a perfect chance go to waste.

None the wiser to the Crimson Twins’ struggles with her dolls, Amalia had once again crouched down on the ground, her hands gently setting the earth apart to plant the seeds she would need. At first she’d been worried she wouldn’t have everything they needed and would have to create those species from scratch—not an impossible task, but one that would require a lot more time and dedication. Fortunately, the worst didn’t come to pass; she had every plant and herb they needed right in her garden. All she had to do was grow them.

With that problem taken care of, her mind wandered to tackle the next issue. The matter with irrigation. While she had access to plenty of water and she just needed to ask the guards to fetch her some more whenever she was running low, the doll still didn’t feel comfortable relying so much on the Eliatropes for that.

It was true neither the village nor the castle seemed to suffer any sort of shortage in water, but she still had no idea how they managed. After all, they lived on an island—yes, they had plenty of water around, but it was sea water. It wasn’t exactly low on sodium.

Maybe Chibi and Grougal had developed some sort of cutting edge filtering system?

With a sigh, she shook her head from those thoughts. It wouldn’t do much to overthink things. What mattered was that she could water her garden. Although, a part of her couldn’t help but wish she were friends with a Cra. She heard from the Matriarch back at Bonta that they sometimes shot rain arrows for the Sadida whenever their crops risked suffering due to a drought.

“We really hope we aren’t keeping you away from anything too important, Lady Amalia.” Shinonomé told her kindly, coming to stand beside her before crouching down as well. The Divine Doll looked up in surprise when she began to help her with the seeds her dolls kept bringing.

Once her initial surprise had worn off, she just shook her head. “No, not at all. I’m really glad that you came to me about this.”

“We simply don’t wish to impose.” Qilby interjected, coming to stand behind his sister as he observed the scene. “You must be so busy these days…”

Amalia ducked her head shyly, an opportunity the Crimson Twins used to exchange smirks while she wasn’t looking. Through their bond, Shinonomé told her brother to wait a little while longer, for the perfect cue.

Eventually, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the doll just waved it all off. “It’s no problem, really. I’m sure you are probably busier than me, with preparing for Sacred Dance Day and all…” Unbeknownst to Amalia, the twins’ smirks widened, a sly glint in their eyes as the perfect opportunity presented itself. They quickly schooled their faces back into friendly neutrality when she turned back to face them. “Yet you still took the time to prepare this and come see me. Really, I should be the one thanking you.”

“Well, we did keep you waiting long enough…” The dragoness commented airily, standing up and dusting herself off.

“So how about we say we’re even?” Qilby offered. His eyes wrinkled from behind his glasses. “Although… It is true Sacred Dance Day tends to take a lot out of us.”

Shinonomé, reading her twin’s cue, continued without missing a beat, “How could it not? It’s such an important holiday, after all!”

“Yeah, Yugo told me all about it the other day.” She giggled excitedly. “I can’t wait to see it for myself!”

Shinonomé, golden eyes glinting, leaned closer to Amalia, her ruby-hued claws grabbing onto her shoulders like a bird of prey. “Oh, did he tell you about how everyone comes together to make the ceremony a success?”

The doll nodded. “Something like that, yes.” Then, after a moment of consideration, “He said you guys recreate your goddess and the Great Dragon’s first dance, right?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise…” She trailed off meaningfully, letting go of Amalia as she strolled around her garden, pretending to show interest for her plants. “It’s much better to see it with your own two eyes, you know. Though I suppose I should tell you the real beauty of Sacred Dance Day is how it brings all of us together.”

“Really?”

“Why, indeed!” It was Qilby who answered, adjusting his glasses. “At the height of the night, we all come together to recreate one of the most pivotal moments in our entire history! That’s why it’s so important we all work together, because it reminds us that we’re one and the same and brings us closer.”

Amalia felt her heart warm up at the sentiment. She could already picture it all so clearly. Families huddled closer together as they watched the show. Couples, young and old, celebrating by dancing underneath it all. The older generation reminiscing on the good times. Yugo’s presence by her side filling her up with comfort and that weird feeling she didn’t understand but deeply cherished… She could hardly wait.

Qilby, who had been watching Amalia’s wistful expression for an opening, had to suppress his smirk when he casually, almost too innocently, mused, “And this year promises to be quite intriguing indeed.”

Broken out of her stupor, the doll raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

He just looked at her meaningfully, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And, in a way, it was.

“Why, because of you, my Lady!” He exclaimed jovially, gesturing at her. “It’s the first time we ever have one of Sadida’s Dolls with us. And since your magic doesn’t work like ours, that means it will also be the first time not all of us get to participate in the recreation.” Wincing with fake sympathy, he crossed his arms and held his head in his palm. “Such a pity. Nothing says ‘togetherness’ like Sacred Dance Day…”

It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice cold water over Amalia. Just like that, all of her previous fantasies had vanished in a puff of smoke. Now, instead of the comforting warmth and electric anticipation she had been feeling these past few days, all that was left was the freezing grip of disappointment cracking open her heart. She had never felt more alien to the Eliatropes as she did in that moment.

Shinonomé, sensing she was at the verge of her breaking point, schooled her calculating features into a pitying yet empathetic look. Stepping closer to Amalia, she brought a hand to her chest, her voice reassuring at the doll’s side. Eyes glinting like a snake about to swallow her prey whole, she went in for the kill:

“But don’t worry, my dear. Just because you can’t do anything for us on such a special day, it doesn’t mean you’re not part of our community. It just means that we might need more… time to get used to your presence, that’s all.”

That finished doing her in. Her Ogrine heart thudded painfully against her ribs.

There it was again, that familiar feeling of hopelessness, of uselessness. The same nagging reminder of Efrim’s cruel words as he pinned her against the cold, hard floor and his ice cold eyes bore into her soul. Mocking her and her efforts to fit in.

“You know nothing!”

“Some demigoddess you are.”

“And to think you have the gall to say you understand.”

She winced at the familiar venom that intoxicated her mind and coursed through her veins, turning her blood ice cold. Biting down on her lip hard enough to draw blood, she had to suppress the urge to bring her hands to her ears in an attempt to drown it all out. Partly because she was still aware that she had company, and the last thing she wanted was to worry Qilby and Shinonomé. But mostly because she already knew that wouldn’t be enough to quiet the echoes of Efrim’s taunts.

The Crimson Twins’ words had struck a chord within her, and the chord had snapped.

They were right, of course they were! Everyone was doing everything in their power to make this year’s Sacred Dance Day truly memorable. Not only would they be celebrating it in their new home—which had yet to fully accept them—for the first time, but they were still recovering from the war with the Mechasms.

Amalia may have never been involved in a war, but even she understood trying to find joy amidst all the chaos and destruction had to be a specially grueling and challenging task. Something that truly tested the limits of your hope and faith. So celebrating their most sacred holiday now, away from home where it actually meant something? That had to be the very definition of bittersweet.

She just wished she’d realised all that sooner.

The doll bit down on her lip even harder as soon as the easily recognisable sting of tears pooling in the corner of her eyes made itself known. It took everything in her power not to cry out of frustration with herself. But she couldn’t cry, not when the Eliatropes had already lost so much and they still remained strong. She couldn’t cry, no matter how chagrined she was for not being able to do anything to soothe their pain and contribute to the ceremony.

She blinked rapidly, keeping the tears at bay still, when she felt someone tugging at her pants. Looking down in surprise, she smiled faintly at the sight of one of her dolls trying to get her attention, its large, little head tilted in curiosity as she peered up at her.

“That’s right”, she tried to tell herself. “I’m already doing my best to help them. I help the Council navigate the tangled world of Twelvian politics. My garden and my expertise are entirely at their disposal. I help around the palace whenever it’s needed…”

But a voice that sounded surprisingly like Efrim’s kept whispering at her that ‘It wasn’t enough’, and ‘She certainly wouldn’t be much help during Sacred Dance Day.’

Her hands curled into fists at her sides, her teeth gnashing together in aggravation. No, it wasn’t enough. She needed to find something to do for Sacred Dance Day, to show Yugo and his people how much she appreciated everything they’d done for her and how much she respected them, but what?

Her back turned to them as she pondered on what to do, Amalia failed to notice Qilby and Shinonomé sending each other triumphant glances as they observed her fidgeting, relishing in her internal conflict.

“She makes it so easy to toy with her, I almost feel bad for her.” Qilby smiled at his twin. His glasses glinted maliciously as he adjusted them. “Key word being ‘almost’.”

“She truly is too naïve for her own good.” Shinonomé agreed, her hands clasped before her and her back straight as an arrow. The only thing differing from her regal and composed exterior were the subtle flickers of her tail that betrayed her own self-satisfaction.

“Well, that just ensures our plans go off without a hitch, doesn’t it?” He looked at his nails, almost bored.

The dragoness’ expression darkened. “Don’t call victory quite yet, my dear Brother.” She warned, her tone growing serious and stern. “Just because she’s easy to manipulate doesn’t mean the war is already won. You forget Yugo.”

At that, the bespectacled Eliatrope couldn’t find it in himself to care about holding back a derisive scoff, clearly offended. He likewise ignored it when his dragon twin shhed him to be quiet.

“Please, Sister. You know I could never forget about anything. It’s our burden, remember?” He asked rhetorically, his words laced with a sarcastic sing-songy tone. His ironic smile dropped off his face. “Besides, with his little flower taken care of, Yugo won’t take much convincing to finally leave this dump and reclaim our rightful place amongst the stars.”

His twin hummed thoughtfully, her golden gaze watching him intently. “All I am saying is that we had better not grow too cocky. Overconfidence can cost us everything.”

But her brother just waved her concerns off, causing her to narrow her slitted eyes on him. While she was the only person Qilby actually listened to without any ulterior motive, there were times where even her warnings went unheeded. She honestly feared the kind of trouble he would get up to if she weren’t around to keep him in line.

“You worry too much, Sister.”

“And you worry too little.”

He tsked his tongue, not appreciating the interruption. “Nevertheless, the seeds of doubt have already been planted. Amalia is bound to sabotage herself in her conviction that she’s not good enough for our people, let alone Yugo. And Yugo will begin to lose faith in her when he realises his precious doll is keeping things from him.” He traced his finger over the length of one of her horns with purposeful strokes, a self-assured grin plastered over his face yet again. “Trust me. Whatever relationship might be blossoming between our dear King and Sadida’s little girl will be over before it even has a chance to start.

“And the best part of it all?” His smirk turned down-right dark, the shadows falling over his face giving it a sinister quality that sent a shiver down even Shinonomé’s back. “It will die by their own hands. Delightfully ironic, don’t you think?” Even the red-scaled woman had to admit it was kind of creepy how chipper he sounded all of a sudden, but she just shrugged it off. She was used to far bigger discrepancies when it came to her Eliatrope twin.

However, as her golden eyes settled back on Amalia as she got back to work—her almost robotic actions and nearly blank expression that contrasted greatly with the demons in her gaze a reflection of the whirlwind that probably was her mind—, all Shinonomé could do was hope her brother didn’t forget how most seeds died sooner or later without the appropriate care.

Her eyes flickering to the position of the sun as it filtered through the windows, and seeing as their job there was done, she found it was finally time to wrap the conversation up.

“You’ll have to forgive us, Lady Amalia, but we have a meeting to get to.” She began, already turning on her heel and making her way out of the garden. “The Council wishes to discuss possible ways to earn the Twelvians’ trust and, naturally, Qilby and I can’t miss it.”

“Please, do keep us informed of your progress.” The eldest Eliatrope called after her over his shoulder as he followed after his sister.

And with that, they left her alone with her thoughts and feelings of inadequacy.

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

It was Adamaï who alerted him that something was wrong.

At first, Yugo feared whoever had been spying on Amalia had returned—and he told Ad as much—, but his brother was quick to reassure him it wasn’t like that. But it definitely had something to do with Amalia.

“She seems… worried about something.” He began, rubbing the back of his head as he struggled to find the words. “Like there’s something on her mind but she doesn’t know how to deal with it. And have you noticed how fidgety and intense she’s been lately? I don’t know, Lil’ Bro, but something’s off.”

Now that Adamaï mentioned it, he had definitely noticed something strange with the doll’s behaviour. All of a sudden, she was very insistent on doing whatever she could to help with the preparations for the upcoming festivity. She went wherever an extra pair of hands was needed, regardless of if she’d been asked to or not.

At first he just shrugged it off as her being very excited for Sacred Dance Day, but Ad was right. That level of overzealousness was just odd. He’d better talk to her about it.

And by ‘he’, he meant ‘they’.

Of course, Adamaï had tried to protest at first, but the moment his brother pointed out the fact that Amalia could easily brush his concerns off as him overthinking things, so he would need all the back-up he could get, he finally relented. …and he may or may not have played the King Card on him to get him to cooperate. But, hey! Ad had been using the Older Brother Card to get away with a lot of things back when they were kids. It was only fair.

She had been helping the kitchen staff carry the ingredients the chef would need for the celebratory banquet when they found her. Her head snapped up when he called out to her, a small smile that tugged at his heartstrings spreading over her lips when her brown eyes met his.

“I’ll be right back, Serviette.” She told the maid kindly, who freed her from her literal burden by opening a portal and dumping the ingredients in it (since they were close enough to the kitchen by then).

Dusting her hands off from any remaining flour or crumbs, she made her way over to the king and his dragon twin and beamed up at them. “Yugo, Ad, hi! I didn’t expect to see guys here.” She tilted her head to the side, her smile now growing tentative as she raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

After much consideration, Yugo came to the conclusion that the best course of action was to rip the band-aid off as soon as possible.

“We actually want to know if you’re okay.” He blurted out.

“Smooth…” Adamaï muttered sarcastically as he leaned closer to him.

He received an elbow to his rib for his troubles.

Amalia panicked at his question. Still, she managed to maintain a façade of calmness long enough to shoot back, “What do you mean by that? I’m perfectly fine, guys.”

Both brothers wore matching wincing expressions. Yugo sighed heavily when Ad sent him a meaningful look and nodded towards the doll with his head—saying something about how he ‘was only there for moral support’. The king was so busy pinching his nose in frustration at his brother’s lack of actual support that he almost didn’t see a bewildered Amalia begin to take a few steps back.

“Well…” she drawled out, taking measured steps and pointing behind her with her thumb. “Not that this hasn’t been fun, but I should probably get back to work. See you later!” She gave them a friendly wave and was about to make a run for it when Yugo’s hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“Amalia, wait. Please.” There was so much feeling in his voice it physically hurt her to even think about getting away. So she didn’t. Her cheeks warmed a little when, noticing this, he rewarded her with one of his sweet smiles.

Her own smile faltered when he started talking about her recent behaviour. She had hoped he wouldn’t notice it, but one sideways look at Adamaï’s nodding form was all she needed to know everything in relation to her would always find its way back to Yugo one way or another.

The doll felt the unreasonable urge to call the dragon a traitor in her mind, even though they had never agreed on keeping quiet about anything. She fought back the urge to pout; it just made her feel better.

Unaware of her current train of thought, Yugo chose to finally address the dragon in the room (aside from Adamaï, of course). “We’re just a little concerned, that’s all. And we were wondering if there was anything you wanted to talk about?”

She chose to play dumb. “No, not at all. What makes you think that?”

She didn’t expect Ad to be so blunt.

“Because you’ve been helping out on the preparations for Sacred Dance Day.” Before she could ask what was wrong with that, he cut her off by raising a claw. “Normally, that’d be fine and dandy—the more, the merrier, as they say! But, don’t you think you’ve been a little too…” He trailed off, struggling to find the words. He doubted she would appreciate being described as ‘manic’ or ‘obsessive’...

“We think you’ve been a little too eager to help.” As always, Yugo came through for his twin, who sent him a grateful nod.

Amalia sputtered, incredulous. “‘Too eager to help’? How in the Doll Master’s name can someone be ‘too eager to help’?” She air-quoted sarcastically before crossing her arms in a huff. “And how is that a problem?”

“Normally, it wouldn’t be.” Yugo started off diplomatically. He winced when all the doll did was curl in on herself tighter, her walls coming up. That wasn’t good. She was growing defensive and that was the opposite of what they wanted. He had to do something to get her to open up, and soon.

So he did what he did best in times of crisis. He took action.

He could already feel her defences dissolve when he gently grabbed her by the shoulders, his voice impossibly soft as he tried to coax her into talking to them. Understanding what he was trying to do, it wasn’t long until Ad followed his lead, coming to stand beside Amalia and wrapping his tail around her form comfortingly.

Still, she was one stubborn doll. “I’m only trying to help.” She insisted.

“We know, and that’s great! We really appreciate it.” Yugo assured her, Adamaï nodding by her side. “We just think you might be overworking yourself.”

Amalia was about to protest when Adamaï pointed out. “Just yesterday, you were helping Bartoloblé bake some cookies for the party. The second you were done with that and you heard Marie say she needed help taking some last minute offerings to the temple, you volunteered yourself.”

“That’s not such a big deal.” Amalia retorted.

“It is when right after going up and down about two hundred steps, you offered to help set up the stands for the games.” Yugo shot back without missing a beat. “You’ve been running around like a headless chicken for three days straight with barely a break! Do you understand why we’d worry?”

His brown gaze bore into hers as he asked her the question, and Amalia could hardly stand it. Eventually, she lowered her head in shame and she began to play with her bangs. The concern reflected in Yugo’s eyes was almost unbearable, more so because it was directed at her and the last thing she ever wanted was to make him worry.

“Amalia, whatever it is that’s on your mind, you can tell us. You know that, right?”

There was so much tenderness in his voice she had to muster every ounce of self-control she possessed not to cry. More so when Adamaï leaned closer to her and whispered softly, “We’re here for you.”

The doll considered this. She considered confiding in the Emerald Twins her fears and concerns regarding the upcoming celebration and her role in it—or lack thereof. Was it really okay if she couldn’t participate in the recreation of the First Dance? Was there anything she could do to make up for it?

She had been trying to amend her shortcomings these past few days, hence why she volunteered herself to help with whatever she could get her hands into. She had baked so many cookies, she feared she had lost her appetite for them forever. Climbing and going down the stairs leading up to the temple while carrying offerings just had to count as cardio and weight-lifting, she had the soreness in her body to prove it. Somehow, she got a splinter from helping out with the stands. How was that even possible?! She was a Sadida Doll, for crying out loud! Trees and the wood they produced were her domain!

And the worst part was that, no matter how much she exerted herself, it never felt like compensation enough.

Eyes glittering, she looked up at Yugo, mouth already parted to tell him everything, when—

“Yugo won’t always be there to protect you, you know?”

And just like that, her resolve to be honest with Yugo, to burden him with her problems, was gone.

Yugo and Adamaï knew it was coming before she ever even opened her mouth. One moment, there was a resolute fire in the doll’s eyes, a determination they naïvely believed meant she would finally reveal what was tearing her up inside. And the next, that same fire flickered out of existence. Like it had never been there.

She smiled up at them—a sweet little thing, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you, but I really am fine.”

The Emerald Twins could only frown sadly as she got back to her previous task of transporting ingredients. Once she was out of earshot, Adamaï clamped a hand on his twin’s shoulder in an attempt to cheer him up.

“Don’t worry too much about it, Lil’ Bro. I’m sure she’ll come to you when she’s ready.” His heart squeezed in sympathy for his brother when his dejected gaze remained on the spot the doll had occupied just moments before.

“Then why does it feel that whenever something’s on her mind, I’m the last person she wants to go to for help?” He mused aloud, his hands going to toy mindlessly with what was stored in his cloak pocket.

His eyes following the movement, the white-and-blue dragon tried to instill some positivity into the conversation. “I’m sure all she needs is time. Deep down, she’s only known us for a few months. Before you know it, you two will be like two peas in a pod.”

The corners of the king’s lips turned up slightly, a flicker of hope returning to his eyes. “Do you really think so?”

“I know so. You’re already halfway there.” He smiled back. Then, eying the object in his twin’s hand, he nudged him playfully. “At the very least, I’m sure your little present will help you bridge that gap.”

Now smiling more genuinely, if a little bashfully, as he looked down, Yugo sincerely hoped his brother was right. They’d bridge that gap. Together.

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

Any other day, Amalia would be buzzing with excitement at the prospect of getting a fitting session with the palace tailor, Mr. Needlesworth. The idea of getting to discuss fabrics, shapes, styles, and accessories with such a knowledgeable fashion guru usually sent a thrill down her spine. It was kind of ironic, that a Divine Doll, someone who didn’t have much use, let alone opportunities, for shopping would come to enjoy the process of designing and creating an entirely new outfit from scratch so much. But there she was.

The only real downside was having to remain completely still for hours on end as Mr. Needlesworth sewed the materials together or added the last finishing touches. It was especially gruesome to feel his needles prickling her skin. It reminded her of when she was first created, and there was something odd about remembering your own birth.

But now that her mind was exhausted from dodging Yugo’s questions and battling with herself over pouring her heart out to him or not? Now that her body was sore from running around for several days trying to help, sometimes without even using her powers?

The moment she opened the door to the dexterous Eliatrope and welcomed him into her room she already knew she was most likely going to fall asleep standing while he worked on her dress.

She had already been about to nod off a few times while they were discussing how she wanted her dress to look like. Even in her half-delirious state, she had found it odd that he didn’t insist on adding anything even remotely Eliatrope to the design. Unlike the last time she had to dress up, there was no sign of even their emblem on her person.

And the worst part was that Mr. Needlesworth wasn’t dumb. On the contrary, he was acutely aware of her subdued attitude and the heaviness of her eyelids. A stark contrast to her usual enthusiastic self.

More than once, he would question her as politely as possible, “My Lady, are you quite alright? Because if you’re too tired, we could always postpone this to another day. I’ll make sure to reserve some time for you.”

And each and every time she would offer him a weak smile and insist, “Sacred Dance Day is in two days, Mr. Needlesworth; we don’t have much time left. Thank you for your consideration, but I’m perfectly fine.”

The bushy-haired, stout Eliatrope would then regard her with worried icy blue eyes, his compassionate smile small but kind even as the ends of his moustache dropped in sympathy, before focusing back on the task at hand.

It couldn’t have been more than an hour or two, but to the sleep-deprived doll, it felt like an eternity.

First, they discussed the kind of outfit she wanted. Amalia barely gave the tailor enough time to present all the possible options before she blurted out she wanted a dress. To his credit, while the doll blushed sheepishly, all Mr. Needlesworth did was chuckle and say, “Of course.”

With that out of the way, they could choose the materials. While the first thing the talented couturier did upon entering was assure the doll that she had the final say in the design of her outfit, Amalia also recognised he was the expert, so she listened intently to all his suggestions and the reasons behind them. Even though the Eliatrope holiday took place in the Twelvian month of Descendre, which marked the beginning of winter and its cold temperatures, the fact that they lived on an island meant they remained largely unaffected by the inclement weather. Meaning it would certainly be too warm for thicker fabrics; instead, he suggested cooler ones like cotton, lynen, satin… In the end, she went for georgette.

Then, came the colour.

At first, the Divine Doll wanted to go for a beige and orange ensemble, but Mr. Needlesworth wisely shut that idea down. He explained it wasn’t bad per se, but since she spent most of her time with her adventuring outfit, which combined beige, orange, and white already, she might want to choose something different and ‘spice things up a bit,’ as he said.

Amalia considered his words, her thumb and index finger holding her chin pensively, and found he made an excellent point. When she asked for his opinion, the tailor suggested she chose green instead, seeing as it matched her hair and created a lovely contrast with her dark skin, as well as the fact that she made quite an impression with her dress for the banquet at Bonta, which also included green. If she was being honest with herself, Amalia had to admit she didn’t really wear green that often, even though it was the colour of life, a symbol of Sadida and his followers. And even though a small part of her cringed at the idea of standing out as an even bigger outsider amongst the Eliatropes, the rest of her resigned herself to her fate.

What was yet another reminder of her otherness at this point?

With the basics out of the way, it was time for designing the dress itself—by that point, Amalia was fighting the urge to just drop dead with every fiber of her being. Immortality be darned.

After inspecting some sketches Mr. Needlesworth had been so kind as to bring along with him, the Sadida Doll opted for a floor-length, full circle skirt. Thinking back to what he said about tropical weather, she decided to be a little bold and, instead of a full top, she asked for the dress to be backless, while two pieces of fabric tied around her neck by a chain exposed her collarbone and midsection. Her cheeks grew warm when she realised the garment would only really cover her breasts, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t like the final result. Moreover, Mr. Needlesworth’s moustache moved alongside his approving grin, and he assured her it would be nothing but tasteful.

Now all that was left was the accessories. To be perfectly honest, the Sadida Doll was at a loss in that regard. She was used to wearing wristbands and anklets as means of accessorising, but given her dress’ overall design, combining the two would clash—her long skirt would hide her anklets from view, and her usual wristbands just didn’t match the general aesthetic.

Massaging her temple, she had to cover her yawn behind her hand. “I must admit I have no idea what I want…”

“May I offer a suggestion?” Mr. Needlesworth proposed, to which the doll smiled and nodded as energetically as she could muster given her drowsy state.

“By all means! Your expertise has already helped me so far, I’m sure whatever you had in mind will be wonderful.”

“Oh, I’m not worthy of such high praise coming from you, my Lady.” He said modestly, rubbing underneath his nose shyly. “However, if you permit me…” He took out his previous sketches of the dress and showed them to Amalia again, who peered down at them curiously. Under her intent gaze, he pointed at the chain holding up her top. “If you ask me, I would say more metal adornments might be a great touch. Not only is jewelry incredibly flattering on most women, but it would also help make the incorporation of the original chain all the more seamless.”

Amalia considered this, her eyes glimmering as she pictured it. “What kind of jewelry did you have in mind?”

The couturier shrugged, pleased to see the approval in the doll’s eyes. “Anything, really.” He pointed at the waist of the sketched dress. “I would start by adding a matching belt, and from there it could evolve into armlets, bracelets, maybe even a headband like the one you sometimes wear but with metallic pieces dangling from it…”

The poor man barely had the time to finish listing his ideas off when the doll leaned closer into his personal space, her brown eyes starry and an almost manic grin on her face. “You had me at ‘anything, really’!”

And so, Mr. Needlesworth got to work. As he traced careful lines in search of the perfect outline for the jewelry Amalia would be wearing, the doll wondered aloud if it’d be possible to add a shawl to it. At first, she winced, for she didn’t mean for that to slip out and she was perfectly aware her Bonta dress had one as well, only to do a double take when the tailor shrugged nonchalantly yet again with a simple, “Sure, we could do that.”

Perplexed, she asked if he was sure, and he explained it would be easy enough to make a shawl that would differentiate itself from the previous one. Then, without even looking up from his sketchbook, he began to list all the possibilities available to make it just as unique—it could be a different yet complementary shade of green; instead of being tied around her neck, it could always hang from her arms; they could even incorporate it into her accessories…

The possibilities were endless as far as Mr. Needlesworth was concerned.

Once he had the general outline of the dress down, the bushy-haired Eliatrope had to excuse himself for a moment as he went back to his atelier and gathered all the materials he would need, from his sewing kit to the actual fabrics from which to make the dress. When he returned, he dismissed the apparent lack of metal as his needing to ask a blacksmith friend of his for a favour, but it shouldn’t be long and, most importantly, Amalia would get her dress just in time.

(He also wisely chose not to say anything when he witnessed, clear as day, how the sound of the door closing behind him as he returned had startled the Divine Doll awake, almost causing her to fall off from her chair).

And so, the real torture began.

Amalia had to fight her tiredness with everything she possessed so as to not fall asleep right then and there as the stout yet talented man worked on her dress. Although the feeling of being pricked with a needle every down and then certainly helped her keep her eyes open.

Unfortunately, the stillness and quiet didn’t just have the unfortunate side effect of threatening to send her straight to Draconiros’ realm. They also gave her plenty of time to think. And, as of late, her every thought had been dedicated to what she could offer to Sacred Dance Day.

Preparations were officially over. Every crook and cranny of Oma Island had been decorated with the traditional portals in stone and silken handkerchiefs. The stands for the games and similar activities leading up to the pièce de resistance had been all set up. The chef had already decided on what dishes to serve as well as he already had all the ingredients and kitchen tools needed for them. Mina, Phaeris, and Yugo were all hard at work for their respective roles in the ceremony, but that wasn’t something she could help in, anyway. The temple was nearly overflowing with offerings for the Great Goddess…

Indeed, there didn’t seem to be anything for her to help with anymore.

And yet, that fact unsettled her more than it calmed her.

There was just nothing she could do for the Eliatropes on such a special day! And worst of all, Yugo had noticed something was bothering her—because he always did—, and instead of coming clean about what was on her mind, she just smiled and lied—just like she always did. The guilt had been eating her alive ever since that night, when she finally had some time to think back on the day’s events and realise what she’d done. She already felt horrible for hiding what happened between Efrim and her from him, and now she added this onto her plate.

The only reason she didn’t smack her forehead was because Mr. Needlesworth would reprimand her from moving too much.

Oh, why had she let Efrim’s words get to her yet again? Would there ever be a time where they wouldn’t haunt her?

Too tired to care anymore, she let out a heavy sigh, her gaze downcast as she pondered on whether she should go look for Yugo after her fitting and tell him everything or face the consequences of her own actions. She was too engrossed in her mental debate, she missed when Mr. Needlesworth’s gaze flickered upwards and his brows furrowed into a concerned frown at her despondency.

“A flower this beautiful shouldn't look this sad so close to Sacred Dance Day.” He thought to himself. Then, with purposeful pricks as he adjusted the fabric around her skin, he set out to cheer her up as best as he could.

“You know, Lady Amalia, I should probably thank you.” He started off casually, yet sincerely. Perking up at his words, the Divine Doll tried to look down at him, but he merely shushed her and told her not to move.

Her spine so straight it threatened to snap any moment now, Amalia breathed out, “Thank me for what, Mr. Needlesworth?”

“For letting me make your dress for you.”

“Oh, no. It’s—,” she tried to shake her head, but once again the tailor wouldn’t let her. “It’s me who should be thankful that you’d agree to take the time out of your packed schedule to sew a dress for me. I can only imagine how busy you must be these days.”

“You’ll have to forgive me, my Lady, but I beg to differ.” He looked up from his task long enough to send her a kind smile from underneath his moustache. “You have no idea of the opportunity you have granted me with your request.”

Luckily, she was allowed to raise her eyebrow in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

He chuckled and threw his arms to his sides, needle and thread still in hand. “Look around you! Do you see any other races besides our own around?”

“Um, no?”

Did dragons count?

“Exactly.” He nodded solemnly. “This is the first time in my life I get to design for someone who isn’t an Eliatrope. In fact, as a designer—as an artist—, one of the highlights of my job is getting to be as creative as possible and to take my designs to a whole new level.

“Adding something new and unique to a tried and true style is challenging enough, but getting to create something based on a whole different culture?” He chuckled, his mind going back to all the suits, and capes, and hats, and dresses he’d created over his life; now that he was working for a Divine Doll, he couldn’t help but feel they would always pale in comparison to whatever he came up with for her. “Now that’s what I consider the peak of my career.”

Humming noncommittally, he abandoned his place at the foot of the stool Amalia was standing up on to pick up some scissors to cut the excess of georgette fabric off the skirt. His back was turned to her as he rummaged through his sewing kit for the necessary tools.

“In my humble opinion, your presence here does us a lot of good.” He admitted, smirking in satisfaction as he took the scissors out of the kit and turned back around to continue with his work.

The doll’s eyes widened at his words. Deep down, she already knew that. The very reason for her presence in Oma Island was to help Eliatropes and Twelvians alike in their new coexistence, and she remembered how thankful the villagers had been to her for what the banquet at Bonta meant for them. But to hear Mr. Needlesworth say that aloud, completely unprompted, without Yugo around to perhaps make him praise her out of loyalty for their king… It made warmth spread all over Amalia’s chest as grateful tears pooled in the corner of her eyes.

“You really think so?” She asked, her voice quivering with emotion.

“Oh, I’m positive.” He insisted, a huge grin on his face. “The fact that you’re a—what was the word again? A Sadida Doll?—,” she nodded, “is just what we needed: a chance to live amongst someone different from us for a change and to be prepared for when we’re finally accepted by this world’s natives.”

Then he moved his hands to work on her top, their movements careful and respectful as he deliberately kept his eyes on her face.

“It’s a real shame we didn’t take your presence into account when organising the festivities this year, my Lady.” The tailor mused aloud, threading the fabric together with an expert hand. “Sacred Dance Day could have really used a Sadida touch as a symbol for new beginnings…”

Her emerald eyebrows shot to the ceiling. “You really think so?”

‘A symbol for new beginnings’... She found she quite liked the sound of that, of being able to add her own touch to the celebration. But alas, she had to suppress a resigned sigh and her hands curled into fists involuntarily at her sides. It wasn’t like she was any closer to discovering what she could do to contribute to the celebration when her magic worked so differently from theirs.

Later, she would attribute what happened to her father looking out for her, because at that point she had been so close to just giving up…

Instead, for some reason, she smiled down at the tailor at her feet and asked out of genuine curiosity. “What’s your favourite part of Sacred Dance Day, Mr. Needlesworth?”

“My favourite part?” He parroted, taken off guard by the question. Humming in thought, he brought a thimble-clad finger to his moustache and began to stroke it best he could. “I’d say it has to be the recreation of our goddess and the Great Dragon’s first dance.”

“I see.” Amalia snickered, not at all surprised by that answer. “Anything in particular you like about it?”

His next answer, however, did succeed at taking her aback.

“I suppose I just enjoy imagining what it was like, you know?” He let out a wistful sigh, his mind distant as he tried to picture how it all began. “I wonder what those first stars after the Krosmoz was created looked like… So ironic, one of the most beautiful things in creation, and nobody was around to see them.”

It was like a lightning strike.

The moment the white-haired couturier uttered those words in his reverie, the memory from the other day echoed in her mind, her eyes widening as realisation hit her.

“A Sadida star…” She murmured, her mind already whirling as the perfect plan materialised right in front of her.

“Huh?” Mr. Needlesworth tilted his head.

Just then, however, his confusion turned into shock and even mild alarm when his model suddenly hopped off the stool and, without much of an explanation, but with a hastily uttered apology thrown over her shoulder, she dashed right out of the room with her unfinished dress still on her person, the fabric fluttering behind her.

Expertly dodging the bewildered palace staff, she made it to her garden, where, after asking Mina and Phaeris for their opinion and receiving their approval, she remained all night as she set her plan in motion. Her previous exhaustion forgotten as the exhilaration of finding the solution to her troubles finally revealed itself to her.

At some point during the night, Mr. Needlesworth had to knock on her garden’s door to politely demand she hand her dress over to him so he could finish working on it—and to prevent it from getting dirty from being in contact with grass and dirt. Amalia at least had the decency to look embarrassed as she gave in to his more than justified request.

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

The air was bubbling with excitement, the party in full swing all around her.

Finally, Sacred Dance Day had arrived, and everyone was celebrating at the town square. Located at a far corner, an orchestra played wonderful melodies that accompanied the merriness of the holiday. Women and men alike mingled about, sharing their mornings with their families and reminiscing on previous years. The children’s laughter filled the square as they ran about and played, both with each other and with the many games set up around town. A few of them almost bumped into Amalia as they chased after each other; thankfully, the doll always managed to sidestep them before laughing and gently reminding them to be more careful.

While Amalia took the chance to have a look around, her grin more genuine than it had been in days thanks to the awe she felt at the sight of the festivities, the real crowd of people formed around the Council of Six. Every single member was surrounded by their own loyal entourage of subjects, who either congratulated them on a job well done in organising everything, or tackled issues pertaining to the area of expertise of each of them.

The doll couldn't help but smile proudly as the Eliatropes congratulated their king on his opening speech. For his part, Yugo looked beyond sheepish, clearly grateful for the praise, but still feeling a little self-conscious despite his clear experience on the matter. She wasn’t the only one that could be read like an open book—his boyish grin and his near constant rubbing of his neck gave him away.

Then again, it wasn’t like his subjects were wrong for looking up to him or complimenting him for his speech. Amalia stood a little ways off to his side from her place on the temple, just enough for her to be presented to the village while making sure their leaders remained front and centre, and his words still reached her as if they’d been dedicated solely to her. Try as she might to remain composed and with an elegant smile on her face, it didn’t take long for it to turn watery and for her to blink back the tears threatening to spill.

It was a very beautiful and impactful speech about the many, many hardships they had endured and how, despite it all, they still lived to celebrate another Sacred Dance Day. Regardless of the pain, and loss, and suffering, they were still standing, and nothing would ever bring their spirits down. By the time the Eliatrope King was done, he didn’t just receive thunderous applause and loud cheering from a kingdom that certainly adored him and who resonated with his message, but even the Divine Doll was clutching at her heart in admiration.

And with that, the celebration could commence.

Now that Yugo’s attention was elsewhere—after briefly glancing around to make sure no one was watching her—, Amalia let her gaze travel over the length of him, taking it all in. Even though she hid her disappointment well, she was more than a little chagrined when Mina and Phaeris ushered them outside before she got the time to admire how he looked.

While the rest of Oma Island got to spend the first half of the day with their family and loved ones, the palace was a flurry of activity. The staff ran about from one wing to the next as they tended to their leaders’ needs and demands as a result of their being busy with last minute adjustments to their outfits or the final revisions of what they would need.

The doll knew for a fact Yugo would be busy revising his speech, as would Mina and Phaeris with theirs and the preparations for the ceremony—she could have sworn she watched them leave the throne room carrying a large chest between the two of them—, what she didn’t know, however, was what everybody else was up to. Knowing she wouldn’t be getting any answers then, she eventually just shrugged it off and focused back on her own last minute check-ups.

Would it be too vain of her to say those last minute check-ups consisted of looking at her reflection in the mirror from all possible angles? Because, Sweet Sadida, Mr. Needlesworth had done an outstanding job with her dress!

As they had agreed on, her dress consisted of a stunning floor-length skirt and a crossed halter top tied around her neck by a medallion connected to a chain and a pear-like hue, revealing her back. As promised, the look was bold and perfect for the warm weather, yet the design was nothing but tasteful, making sure to expose only what she wanted to be seen. The skirt was cinched around her waist by a matching belt adorned with the same crystals as the medallion keeping her ensemble together. But that wasn’t the only accessory she was wearing that day.

Amalia wouldn’t have been able to keep herself from whimsically flailing her arms around even if she wanted to. True to his word, Mr. Needlesworth added the shawl she wanted: a delicate, lime-green tulle cloth that emerged from her matching pair of bronze bracelets and armlets on each arm and trailed behind her. She was mesmerised by everything, but her breath was especially taken away when she saw the wonderful headband the immensely talented tailor had designed for her.

True to his word, it resembled the one she wore when she first arrived at Oma, but it was far more elaborate. The white antlers didn’t stick upwards like Osamodas’ horns, rather they curved inwardly and branched out like an Elante’s, emerging from a flower crown like two imposing trees sticking out of a garden in bloom. Dangling from the antlers were several little silver chains from which hung pendants in all shapes and forms. And to really drive the point home that she was a Sadida, Mr. Needlesworth had gone the extra mile and added leaves all over her dress.

With her long, chartreuse hair down, she seriously doubted she had ever looked half as beautiful as she did in that moment. She only felt even more pleased with herself, her cheeks colouring and heart skipping a beat, when Yugo’s eyes landed on her right before they had to leave and they widened, his face going crimson. His blush—and her giggles—only intensified when, numbstruck at the sight of her and incapable of tearing his gaze off her lovely form, he collided against the doorframe.

Amalia had never felt more smug than she did at that moment. She didn’t know why, but she received an ego boost from seeing how much power she seemed to hold over Yugo. It was intoxicating.

Although she couldn’t deny that her intoxication might have been a result of seeing Yugo in his own suit for the occasion. But alas, before she could properly drink it all in and express her own admiration (which, for some reason, made her mouth go dry), they were told they had better get in the way and she didn’t get another chance…

Until now.

Now she could feast her eyes on the elaborate ensemble the Eliatrope King wore. Because it was truly worthy of a king.

Much like she was wearing green, the colour most associated with Sadida, he wore the characteristic turquoise of the Eliatropes, the hue he always wore. Amalia couldn’t help but smirk fondly at the sight of him. One way or another, his wardrobe seemed to consist of nothing but variations of his battle suit, the only real difference being how formal or informal the garments actually were.

In this case, the doll was reminded of the iconic outfit because his ceremonial robes combined the same vivid turquoise and the darker peacock hue of his suit. Draped all over his body was a light blue tunic with white hems that reached down his ankles yet had large vertical slits for better mobility. Secured around his form and highlighting his athletic build was a matching waist belt, while his glowing tattoos were exposed thanks to the slits of his sheer bishop sleeves. If her eyes trailed downwards, she could see dark blue pants and boots underneath his tunic and through its slits.

It vaguely reminded her of Chibi’s own body suit.

And it wasn’t the only thing reminiscent of it, either. Yugo seemed to have taken a page out of his brother’s book and incorporated his hood onto his undershirt, for it was the same peacock colour as his tights, yet it was decorated with exquisite shapes and forms of a lighter hue.

There was something about seeing Yugo in formal clothing that simply set her heart ablaze. Maybe it was the way it complimented his boyish charm while highlighting his own regality. Or the way his every garment seemed to draw attention to his sculpted physique. Or maybe she just thought Yugo looked handsome in everything he wore. The doll honestly didn’t know, but it wasn’t like she cared that much about it either. She couldn’t suppress a dreamy sigh from escaping her mouth. Whatever it was, Amalia found that she really liked it whenever her friend looked his best. Almost as much as she liked it when he appreciated her good looks.

Her daydreaming was abruptly stopped when she heard snickering not far away from her. Her cheeks burning, she quickly averted her gaze from the man of the hour, hiding her face behind one hand, and began to look around for her own mysterious watcher.

She blinked blankly when she made eye-contact with Old Biju, the kindly old man from the jewelry store she met during her first visit to the village. The same man she had yet to visit again to design and purchase one of his exquisite pieces.

Normally, that wouldn’t be so bad—whether it would be mortifying or not to be caught gawking at the king was a whole different story. The weird thing, however, was the fact that he was grinning from ear to ear underneath his greying beard, followed by him sending her a double thumbs-up and a wink before walking away with his family.

Her brain still trying to catch up to the unusual interaction, her face the perfect definition of ‘confusion’, Amalia eventually just shook her head to clear her thoughts. Still embarrassed for her little indiscretion, she tried to play it cool by pretending to be as entranced by the rest of the Council’s ensembles for the night.

A small smile curled at her lips and she snorted softly. It seemed whenever it was time for them to dress up, the Council of Six always followed a theme.

Everyone was wearing similar outfits to Yugo, only in their respective colours and with very small variations. Qilby wore an actual white ceremonial robe with crimson red embroidery, the same sheer material as his brother’s sleeves was used to display his sternum. Nora wore a bright magenta leotard with matching bishop sleeves and pantalons, her toned limbs in full display. Mina wore a light teal, floor-length dress and the same kind of sleeves as her brother and sister. Chibi was clad in a black and golden, open-chested vest, with light beige pantalons secured by a striped, red and gold sash, and brown boots twirled at the tip—his sleeves were almost the same as Yugo’s. Glip was the only one who didn’t use the same material as his siblings. Instead, he simply wore an olive green tunic not too dissimilar from his usual look.

And, of course, they all had their heads covered by their hats and hoods.

Meanwhile, their dragon siblings didn’t really wear any special clothing. They looked like they usually did save for the painted markings trailing all over their bodies. The only exception was Shinonomé, who wore a yellow dress similar to Mina’s, only much shorter, drawing attention to her long, ruby-coloured legs.

It was truly fascinating how they always found a way to stand out from the rest of their siblings while keeping a common factor that made it evident they were all in this together.

“Then again,” Amalia mused to herself. “I suppose I have the same thing with my sisters. Even if I don’t really show it…”

Smiling to herself, the doll decided, albeit reluctantly, that it was high time she tried to immerse herself a little more into the ceremony. Everything was beautifully decorated, and there were so many fun things to do, she could hardly wait!

And so, she began to look for ways to entertain herself until it was dinner time.

She tried some of the games, and was pleasantly surprised to find out she was a natural at scoring a basket at the ‘Travelling Portals’ game. A very fun game that only required you to throw a ball through a blue ring. Although it was a little awkward when the man manning the stand sheepishly offered her a doll as a prize. Luckily, nobody seemed offended when she gave her prize to a little girl staring at it with glittering eyes. Instead, they all cooed as the child hugged her new toy tightly.

She also got to spend some time with a few of the adults. They asked her about her day and her daily routine, and in turn she showed interest in their lives. Apparently, one of them, Araknya, was the village’s most talented seamstress, and back in the day, it had been her who’d sewn all the silken handkerchiefs they still used as decorations. Another one, Mona, was a passionate artist who tried a little bit of everything—painting, sculpting, carving, metal work… And then, there was Trina, who was an accountant.

Honestly, from what she’d told her about her job, the doll couldn’t help but privately wonder how come there weren’t more accountant Enutrofs. Getting to count money all day long had to be paradise for them!

She also shared some pleasantries with Bartoloblé, who still lamented the fact that his children were growing up too fast for his liking when they ‘ditched’ him to spend time with their friends. But then he offered the Divine Doll some freshly baked bread to snack on while they waited for dinner, and he seemed to get over it. For now.

Then, when her guard was low, the children all worked together to take her by surprise and bombard her with requests to play with them. Amalia lasted for all of two seconds before they pulled out the big guns and she was forced to admit defeat in the face of countless adorable puppy-wow-wow looks. Before she knew it, she was gleefully dancing in a circle, hand-in-hand, with a group of giggling, singing children. Or summoning her vines to carefully lift them up so everyone would look like insects from where they were. Or even playing with them at the stands, trying to win some more prizes for them—and getting completely demolished when Grougal came strutting by and won every single game without breaking a sweat.

He had to close her gaping mouth himself once he was done handing out plushies and toys for every kid. In response, she crossed her arms and pouted. “Show-off…”

But what truly made her heart flutter and immediately improved her already wonderful evening was when Yugo would get a few minutes to sneak away from his adoring subjects and check up on her. The first few times he did it, it was small things. Like asking if she was having a good time, to which she would assure him that she most definitely was. Or he would recommend some of his favourite past times, and even go with her and spend some time together whenever his presence wasn’t required elsewhere. And other times, they’d get more time together and they would chat the night away, just like they usually did from her balcony.

Even though all the while she still felt a pang of guilt for not coming clean over her unease of the last few days, it was nothing compared to the longing that would take over her heart whenever her eyes, treacherous as they were, trailed over to what would become the dancefloor and back at Yugo. Would it be wrong to want him to ask her for a dance?

There was nothing she wanted more than to dance with him. The last time they did so was back in Bonta, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t miss the feeling of swaying in the Eliatrope King’s arms, where she felt protected, cared for, l—.

Her train of thought was abruptly interrupted by Nora and Efrim announcing dinner was served. The corners of her lips turned upwards a little when Yugo placed a polite hand on the small of her back and led her over to her seat at the table. She was seated next to Mina, who flashed her a knowing smirk behind the rim of her cup that made her skin feel too hot even under the light fabric of her dress. Two other Eliatropes she didn’t recognise but would surely come to know by the end of the night were located at her other side and right in front of her. Even the musicians left their position for the time being to enjoy some food.

Once everyone was in their place, the royal chef listed off the many mouthwatering dishes he’d prepared for the night. Gobball stew—Amalia, Yugo, and even Adamaï shared mischievous glances; it wasn’t bad in any sense of the word, it just wasn’t as good as Alibert’s—, stir-fried vegetables, grilled Kralamoure—this time, the doll and the king had to do everything in their power not to break down laughing at the way Adamaï blanched even whiter than he already was when presented with the dish—, roasted meats with caramelised onion, soups, bread from Bartoloblé’s bakery, and the most artistically baked desserts Amalia had ever seen in her life.

As everybody ate and shared stories around the meal, the doll felt pleasantly full. Her heart in particular threatened to burst from joy as the most wonderful feeling of belonging enveloped her.

And just when she thought the night couldn’t get any better, Mina and Phaeris announced it was finally time.

Perking up with a huge grin on her face, Amalia mimicked everyone around her and stood from the table. Since they would lead the ceremony from the temple, the Council of Six were the first to make their way towards the sacred building. But not before Yugo reached out for Amalia and gently took her hand in his to make sure she wouldn’t be left behind amidst the crowd and she could be watching alongside them.

As soon as their leaders had begun making their way over to the temple, their subjects followed. They calmly abandoned their own seats and filed out of the dining area. While the Council climbed the stairs leading to one of the highest floors of the temple, ensuring everyone would be able to see perfectly, the Eliatropes all crowded around the main square. The perfect view of Mina and Phaeris as they took a step forward to address their people.

As his subjects murmured impatiently from below, Yugo’s eyes were on Amalia, watching her every reaction intently in order to file it away in his mind for eternity. He smiled at the thought of her dazzled face when she finally saw the true magnificence of Sacred Dance Day for the very first time. He knew from experience it would stick with her for years to come.

His affectionate grin faltered slightly when she caught sight of the engraved chest being passed over to Mina and Phaeris. From the look in her eyes, he could tell she recognised it, but couldn’t imagine how that was even possible. Even though she had been in the throne room before, he had never told her of the secrets the Eliatrope throne held. There was simply no way she could know about the Dofus.

As if reading his mind, the doll leaned closer to him to whisper, “I saw Mina and Phaeris carrying that out of the throne room earlier today.” Okay, that explained a lot of things. “What’s inside of it?”

Even though her unintentional explanation managed to assuage his worries, the king still understood his people held secrets he couldn’t reveal just yet. Especially when Efrim was around watching them like a hawk. As much as he would have liked to reveal everything to Amalia, he knew he couldn’t.

“Now, now, Amalia. That would ruin the surprise…” He winked down at her, relishing the way she blushed the softest shade of pink even as she pouted.

A terse but meaningful grunt from Phaeris was all they needed to know they were about to start, so it’d be best if Amalia retook her previous position and stood back. No matter how much he lamented watching her go, Yugo knew it was the right thing to do. However, he didn’t miss the way she seemed to grin impishly to herself, the mysterious action causing him to raise an eyebrow at her retreating form.

As always, he could count on his brother to ground him back to reality with a subtle, yet not-so-gentle, flick of his tail against the back of his head. His go-to method to get his Eliatrope twin to look forward and pay attention.

As soon as Amalia had returned to her previous position from Yugo’s opening speech, Mina, as if sensing this, addressed her subjects, her arms extended to her sides welcomely.

“Dear friends, thank you all so much for joining us in the celebration of Sacred Dance Day once more. Your devotion and faith in our mother, the Great Goddess Eliatrope, is not in vain.” At her words, the people gathered at the feet of the temple lowered their heads in a silent prayer, their hearts with their goddess. Mina’s smile widened at the sight of her people’s loyalty. It only lasted for a minute before her expression turned somber.

“As our king said before, I know I need not remind you of the many hardships we have endured. In what feels both like seconds and several lifetimes, we lost those we considered our friends, our world, and we were forced to begin a long voyage in search of a new place to call home.” Amalia couldn’t help but wince at her quiet admission, her heart going out to the wonderful nation that had taken her in. “In a way, even now we’re still searching.”

Although she lamented having to admit they still had a long way to go before they could say they belonged in the World of Twelve, Mina’s voice remained clear and unwavering even as bitter tears sprung from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. But the silver-haired priestess carried on, emboldened by her people’s faith in them and her brother’s silent support in the form of the comforting touch of his wing against her back.

“But today we are here to remind you how hope is not a weakness!” She declared, raising one fist in the air to show her conviction. “And neither is it to trust the Great Goddess. Now more than ever, hope and trust give us strength. The strength needed to face each new dawn with motivation and optimism, knowing we can make each day better than yesterday. Our past may be tinged with loss, but the future belongs to us!”

“And we have our goddess to thank for that!” This time, it was Phaeris who took the floor, his solemn roar reverberating throughout the space. “Even if her presence is not as powerful as it used to be, even if she does not hold the same power in this world as she did in our own, let no one ever doubt that she remains with us. Let no one ever doubt that she is still looking over us.

“For if we are all gathered here today, celebrating life despite our many losses, that is precisely because Eliatrope has led us directly to this moment. Even in her absence, us, her children, will forever be her top priority!”

The teal dragon’s conviction resonated with everyone listening. While his siblings and their subjects all cheered and loudly proclaimed their agreement with what he said, Amalia could only glance upwards. As her gaze remained fixed on the night sky, she couldn’t help but wonder if her father was also watching over her despite the distance. A small smile curled itself on her lips at the sentiment.

“That is right!” Mina concurred, stepping forward with her hands outstretched towards her kingdom. “Eliatrope has blessed us with the chance to start over. Therefore, let us celebrate her grace and compassion by honouring the event that started it all—her sacred dance with the Great Dragon that gave birth to the Krozmos!”

Amidst all the cheering and clapping, the Ochre Twins exchanged a meaningful look. Gripping each other’s hand tightly, they raised it high above their heads and exclaimed, “For new beginnings!”

“FOR NEW BEGINNINGS!” Everyone chorused immediately after.

Amalia watched from her position as Mina instructed everyone to follow her lead. Her palms facing outwards, soon enough, they turned wakfu-blue and began to emit a shapeless mass of energy that floated skywards. The doll’s brown eyes widened in awe and she craned her neck when, one by one, her fellow Eliatrope members of the Council copied her actions, their own wakfu coming to join hers high above.

And yet, that was nothing compared to the veritable spectacle that was seeing every single Eliatrope gathered around—regardless of age, size, or gender—contribute with their own energy. Before long, they were all standing under a cloud of the purest hue of turquoise that lit up the night.

The only thing that succeeded at getting the Divine Doll to tear her gaze away was the sight of Mina elegantly and measuredly waving her arms around as she commanded the wakfu cloud. It was like watching the waves crash against the shore—beautiful and calming, yet extremely impactful. Amalia could only gasp as she finally realised what the priestess was trying to do. She was moulding their combined wakfu into a more refined shape. One that, only enough, resembled a face with extraordinarily long locks of hair.

Her eyes widened in realisation yet again. “The Eliatrope Goddess!”

It was at that time that Phaeris took action. Effortlessly dragging the mysterious chest in front of him, he bent down and unclasped the lock. When he stood up, he was carrying six colourful eggs the size of boulders in his arms. But if Amalia thought that was strange, it was nothing compared to the shock she felt when he willed them into forming a rotating circle all around him.

The doll could only watch on, mesmerised, as the Ochre dragon clearly used every last drop of his concentration to keep the eggs under control even as they began to spin faster around his form and glow ominously. At last, he seemed to achieve his goal, for with a draconic roar that sent tremors down to her very core, Phaeris spread his arms and wings wide as a great burst of energy was released from both his body and the eggs.

And yet, that was nothing compared to the astonishment she experienced when the blue energy the eggs had been operating with suddenly turned purple. Her hairs stood up on end and she instinctively brought her arms around her torso to hug herself at the sudden shift in the atmosphere. She could just feel it.

But before she could so much as ask about it, the eggs—the Dofus, she realised. Just like the one her sisters and Osamodas’ dragons had created all those years ago—began to move about, purple energy trailing after them. Her eyes remained snapped open in bewilderment, for she feared missing anything if she so much as blinked, as the currents began to mount and spike up. Just as she was about to run for cover, fearing the worst, her concerns proved unfounded when the Dofus turned into a giant, ethereal dragon made out of the very same purple energy they emitted.

And even that was nothing when the Great Dragon and Eliatrope Goddess’ recreations began to dance, taking her breath away.

It was like nothing she had ever experienced. Craning her neck so far back a subconscious part of her was sure she would feel it in the morning, Amalia wouldn’t have been able to tear her eyes away to save her life. She followed the two lovers’ every movement, mesmerised, as the Ochre Twins directed them high above. All around her, the delighted murmurs coming from the Eliatropes watching from down below echoed her own sentiment.

It was truly breathtaking.

A pleasant warmth spread all over Yugo’s chest when, having discreetly flickered his eyes towards her, he got to see the amazement plastered all over the doll’s face. The Council of Six had witnessed the traditional recreation of the Sacred Dance so many times, he knew exactly what would happen next without having to look.

First, Mina and Phaeris would wield the wakfu from the Eliatropes and the stasis from the Dofus into taking the form of their parents. Next, they would recreate their first meeting by guiding both constructs to stand (or would it be more accurate to say ‘hover’?) on opposite ends. Slowly, they would draw them both near until they were face to face. Just like Eliatrope and the Great Dragon, upon seeing each other for the first time, the constructs would lunge at each other and form a perfect spiral as they began their mystical dance. Little by little, their ethereal forms would undulate and shoot upwards, purple and blue becoming interwoven for eternity in the form of a whole new universe where life and death were intrinsically linked.

And although he was sure he would never tire of seeing it, for it never failed to be absolutely beautiful, this time it somehow still paled in comparison to getting to see Amalia see their union for the first time.

Knowing this was usually the part where his siblings let loose of their hold on the energy constructs and allowed them to move on their own as the commemoratory dance began underneath their light, Yugo felt tempted to take Amalia aside and give her his present then.

Only for something so unexpected not even Chibi would have been able to predict it to happen.

As scripted, Mina and Phaeris dropped their hold on the wakfu and stasis clouds at that moment. But then addressing their people like they did was completely unscripted.

As usually, the first to speak was Mina. “My dear people, normally, this would be the time when we got the actual dancing of the holiday underway.”

“However,” Phaeris continued, dutifully ignoring the confused glances being shared even amongst their siblings. “This time, there is one more surprise waiting for us. But why doesn’t Phaeris allow the person behind it to step forward and share her idea with us?” When he gestured to his side and Amalia stepped forward, shyly waving down at the Eliatropes, there wasn’t a single jaw that didn’t drop at the sight of the Divine Doll seemingly organising something for their special day.

Yugo and Adamaï’s were certainly only centimetres apart from the floor.

“Thank you, Mina. Phaeris.” Her nervous heart racing wildly in her ribcage, Amalia discreetly took a deep breath to steel herself as she slid up beside the Ochre Twins. Remembering what they said about projecting her voice, she addressed her audience with as much poise and confidence as she could muster. “I would like to start by thanking you all, from the bottom of my heart, for allowing me to share such a meaningful occasion with you. Truly, I am not worthy of such honour.” Placing a hand over her chest and lowering her head solemnly, she didn’t miss the way Efrim seemed to agree with her statement, but she didn’t let that deter her.

She was done letting him get into her head. That, and the soft huff of air that left his maw when one of his siblings nudged him in his side certainly helped.

“However, I have not come here today to talk about what I am lacking, rather, to share what I can provide for you instead. All I ask in return is that you place your trust in me for a few scarce moments.”

Not waiting for an answer, indistinguishable from all the chatter crowded down below, she looked over her shoulder at the Ochre Twins and offered them a curt nod.

“Do you have any idea what she’s up to?” Adamaï questioned him. His brother had to admit his stoic façade did a wonderful job at hiding his own bewilderment.

“No, she didn’t mention everything all day.” Blinking in surprise, Yugo’s gaze flickered over to his silver-haired sister and, her hand behind her back, she opened up a portal.

His dirty-blond brows shot up to the nonexistent ceiling when it became apparent she had actually created one large portal that stood amidst their mother’s offerings and it then dissolved into innumerable smaller ones all over their audience. Despite his many questions, his mind immediately drew a blank when a portal opened right in front of him and deposited a small, leaf-like package in his hands.

…did Amalia organise some sort of cabbage exchange, or something?

His head snapped over to Nora. “No way! Is this—?”

“What you have in your hands is my present to you.” Amalia continued, the only one who didn’t have a cabbage-like thing in her hands. Instead, hers were splayed at her sides, her palms up. Not unlike how Mina herself had initiated the ceremony. “This is my way of saying ‘thank you’, for everything. I know it’s nowhere near as impressive as the magnificence of the dance that created the Krosmoz, but someone made me realise that, perhaps, that was exactly what was missing—the Krosmoz.

“Now, if you would all be so kind as to raise what you’ve been given in the air…” She gestured for them to follow her motions, raising the mysterious present high above their heads. Her smile widening at the patches of green greeting her from down below, illuminated from the still moving bursts of blue and purple energy, she knew everything else was up to her.

Amalia placed her extended palms in front of her and, much like Phaeris had done before her, she began to concentrate all her energy into that indescribable source that connected all of plant-life together. The very same source she felt deep within her core ever since the Leafy Godl himself brought her to life.

In a way, she was literally pouring everything she had into this, and that alone gave her enough hope to believe it would work.

At first, she heard it rather than saw it.

A surprised gasp, soon followed by another, and another. Soon enough, the sounds of curiosity were replaced by joyous laughter, loud hollering and cheering, little kids telling their parents to ‘Look!’, and the excited chatter she had been looking for. A huge weight was lifted off her shoulders.

She could only chuckle when she heard Chibi exclaim, “What does light have to do with plants?!”

“That’s what I said!” That was Nora.

Despite everything, the Divine Doll still was almost too afraid to look. After a moment’s hesitation, she finally peeked one eye open, and soon it was her turn to grin broadly at the scene in front of her.

From where she stood, dozens of golden, little dots lit up the town square, but all she could see were the delighted expressions of the Eliatropes as they stared at the glowing orbs in awe. Amalia wouldn’t have been able to wipe the smile off her face even if she wanted to. Her plan was a success! She had contributed something of value to Sacred Dance Day all by herself!

Now, there was only one thing left to do.

“My dear Eliatropes, I give you…” With a fluid motion of her hand, her plant-based lights took off into the night sky, “the first stars in the Krosmoz!”

From where he stood, watching alongside his husband, Mr. Needlesworth had to wipe a tear off, a huge, touched grin breaking out under his moustache. He and his love leaned into each other at the view, holding each other close.

While her subjects erupted in even more gasps and cheers, Mina took the chance to draw their attention back to her once again. Her own gaze followed the orb she had previously held as it floated away.

“I believe I speak in the name of all of us when I say it is us who are grateful for you and everything you have done for us, Lady Amalia.” She placed a warm hand on top of the Sadida Doll’s shoulder, smiling warmly down at her. From the genuine glint in her dark eyes, it was easy to see she meant every word. She turned to her subjects. “And with that, may the dance commence!”

No sooner did the words leave her mouth that the Eliatropes began to celebrate underneath their Great Goddess and the Great Dragon, only this time, countless Sadida stars served as their witnesses. It was incredible how something could go from solemn to immensely festive so quickly. One minute, everyone watched and listened attentively to everything the Council of Six had to say, and the next, people were coupling up, or forming rings, or even going solo to dance the night away.

Not for the first time that week, Amalia’s heart squeezed in longing as she observed their almost crazed movements. Not only did she miss dancing in the ridges alongside her family as the breeze gently swayed flower petals behind them. But, watching the couples sway softly to the music, she yearned to be able to do the same with Yugo.

As pleasant as that feeling he elicited was, a deep loneliness enveloped her whenever he wasn’t there with her. Was it normal to miss someone you saw almost every day?

Unbeknownst to her, she wasn’t the only one observing. A little ways off from his siblings as they celebrated and congratulated each other on yet another successful Sacred Dance Day—except Nora, Chibi, Grougal, and even Baltazar; who had teleported themselves to the dancefloor—, Yugo’s eyes were on Amalia, his heart thundering against his ears.

He had long known she was beyond beautiful. One only needed to ask around for a little bit and it soon became apparent he found her to be bewitching from the very moment he first laid his eyes on her human form. As a matter of fact, with each passing day, he only found her lovelier and lovelier, proof enough of that was the way his brain stopped working as soon as he saw her in her new dress.

But after what she did today for them… He was convinced she had never looked more beautiful.

The weight of what he carried around in his breast pocket heavier than ever, the king made up his mind. He had to give it to her now before he lost his nerve. There wouldn’t be a more perfect moment.

Sliding up to her and clearing his throat, he almost felt bad at the way his unexpected company made her jolt in place. Although it was kind of adorable how it took her a little to regain her bearings and notice his presence.

“Oh, Yugo! You scared me!” She chided him lightly, slapping him on the arm without any real force behind it.

“Sorry, Amalia. That wasn’t my intent.”

“It’s alright.” She smiled. “Did you need anything?”

And just like that, his mouth went dry at the moment of truth.

“Y-yes, actually.” He stammered. He tried to hide his blush behind his fist. “I was wondering if you would come with me? I’d like to talk to you in private.” Was it just him, or did a flicker of hope just die out in her eyes?

“O-oh!” Now it was her turn to stammer. “S-sure, I mean…” She waved her hand lazily. “Lead the way.”

With a nod, Yugo did just that. He tried not to think about her squeak in surprise when he snaked a hand around her waist and pressed her flush to his side. Or how right it felt when her arms came to circle around his torso and to hold on tight when he jumped off the temple and onto a lower, more isolated platform.

The moment Amalia let go, he immediately missed her warmth.

The doll looked around in confusion for a minute, before turning back to the king with a raised eyebrow. “So? What did you want to tell me?”

She could only blink blankly at his answer.

“Remember when I first took you to the village?” Yugo blurted out.

Okay… That wasn’t what she’d been expecting, but she’d play along for now. “Yes, of course. How couldn’t I? Not only was it a great day, but I’ve been coming back quite often ever since.” She tilted her head to the side. “Why do you ask?”

“Remember when we were about to leave but we stopped for a minute to talk with Mr. Biju?” He prodded. “You know, the jeweller known for his literally one-of-a-kind pieces?”

“How could I forget? I saw him earlier.” She chose not to say anything about his weird behaviour then. But her tone grew wistful. “I have yet to visit him again to commission him something for me…”

At her words, Yugo’s smile softened. “Well, to tell you the truth, I’m kinda glad you didn’t?”

“Huh?” Amalia blinked, more confused than ever. “Really? Why?”

“Because of this.” He said simply. He brought his hand to his breast pocket and took something out of it. Something he placed into Amalia’s open hand. Her eyes flickered back to the lukewarm, sleek object in her hand for a fraction of a second, before her head snapped up back at him in wonder, her mouth slightly agape.

The king shrugged so nonchalantly it just didn’t fit what he’d just admitted to doing for her. “What can I say? I wanted to do something for Sacred Dance Day for you too.”

Still incapable of forming a single coherent thought, Amalia’s astonished gaze returned to the object currently holding her attention. There, laying in her open hand, was a beautiful pendant. While the chain itself was fairly simple, what truly caught her eye was the intricate design of the charm. It somehow managed to be both simple and breathtaking. Glinting in her palm was a golden spiral, but what made it truly memorable was how the outer lines consisted of jagged edges, highly reminiscent of an Eliatrope portal; while the inner ones curled in on themselves into the shape of a leafy vine, like the ones she would summon.

With a start, she realised it was supposed to represent them and their bond. As she reached that conclusion, words failed her, although she still gave it her best shot.

“Yugo… I… This is… I-I don't know what to say!” Her voice, though tremulous, was full of emotion.

“Do you like it?” He asked simply with a smile. If he were being honest with himself, he wasn’t faring much better.

“I love it. It's… It's beautiful!” She assured him, and he immediately felt ten times lighter. “But, I didn't get you anything…”

“Are you kidding me? You did all of this.” He opened his arms wide and gestured around. “Even though you didn't have to.”

But she shook her head. “It was the least I could do after you all took me in and were so kind to me.” At least, most of them were. “I couldn't possibly do nothing for you on such a special day for you. I—.”

“Amalia, you're a Divine Doll.” He reminded her gently, lifting her chin with his thumb so she would look at him. So she would see the seriousness and sincerity in his eyes. “You didn't even know about Sacred Dance Day until very recently! Nobody would've put it against you if you didn't do something to celebrate with us.”

“Still…”

“Is that why you’ve been so off lately?” The king finally questioned, and the doll had to suppress the urge to gasp when he hit the nail on the head. Instead, she tried averting her gaze again, but the thumb under her chin wouldn’t let her. “Amalia. Please, talk to me. Do you have any idea what knowing that you don’t trust me does to me?”

Her answer was immediate. “But I trust you!” He was probably the person she trusted most on Oma Island. Nay, the entire World of Twelve!

“Then why don’t you ever come to me when you have a problem?” Yugo prodded, hopeful at what seemed to be progress between the two.

Amalia’s voice was so small he almost didn’t hear her. “Because you’re a king, you’re already dealing with so much, and I… I don’t want to worry you.” She started when he actually snorted.

Flinching under her disbelieving glare, he tried to wave it off. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just…” He let out yet another chuckle, though a mirthless one. “If the reason you don’t tell me what’s bothering you is because you don’t want me to worry, then I’m sorry to tell you you’re being counterproductive.”

“What do you mean?” The doll tilted her head, the pendants hanging from her headband dangling with the movement.

“Amalia, if I see you’re worried about something but you don’t tell me what, I’m only going to worry more!”

Oh. When he put it like that, maybe trying to be the strong and silent type that didn’t really open up wasn’t the best solution she could have come up with.

“Yeah… You might have a point.” She winced, instantly regretting all the secrecy from the past few days. Looking back at Yugo, she let out a rueful sigh. “I’m sorry, Yugo. You’re right, I should have told you how I felt about not being able to collaborate much from the beginning. It would have saved us a lot of trouble….”

“I’m kind of glad you didn’t, actually.” Again, she was looking at him like he’d grown a second head. He could only laugh. “Don’t you see? It was thanks to that that you ended up organising all this!” He pointed at the glowing orbs high above. “It’s the first time we’ve ever deviated from our traditions, and I must say, I think this is our best Sacred Dance Day yet.” He smiled down at her, winking knowingly. “I’d say it’s quite fitting, given the circumstances.”

Knowing exactly what he meant, a soft blush on her cheeks, Amalia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m just glad you guys liked it. After everything you’ve done for me, this was the least I could do.”

They were quiet for a little while after that until Yugo broke the silence, his voice kind yet full of meaning. “But seriously, from now on, if you have a problem, don’t hesitate to come to me, okay? I feel much better knowing I can at least offer some support than watching you agonise from the sidelines.”

After a beat, a small smile stretched over the doll’s lips as she glanced back up at him. She was done letting Efrim dictate her life. If he wanted to blame her for all of his misfortunes, so be it. But she wouldn’t let him affect her friendship with Yugo anymore.

“I promise.” And just then, without a warning, she threw herself at Yugo’s arms, who, despite his initial surprise, automatically held her against his body just as tightly. Her warmth seeping into his body, her emerald hair tickled his nose, her natural floral scent with tinges of sunlight so intoxicating he had to (very reluctantly) place her back down lest he got dizzy.

Once her feet were on the floor again, he softly asked for her permission to let him help her with her necklace, which she happily granted. Tucking her hair in front of her to facilitate the Eliatrope’s access, she felt a tingle of excitement run down her back as his bare hands grazed her skin while he tried to clasp the chain around her neck.

When he finally stepped away to see how it looked on her (beyond gorgeous), Amalia picked it up and stared at it intently. However, for some reason, an unreadable expression settled on her face the more she stared at the necklace. Seeming to realise what she was doing, the doll sent her a small yet soulful smile, but that only soothed his worries a little.

“I still feel a little bad for not getting you a present.” She confessed.

Yugo frowned. He gave her that necklace hoping to convey how much she meant to him and how much he appreciated having her in his life, even if he couldn't say it out loud himself. It tore at his heart to see his gift causing her grief of any kind. All he wanted was to take all her worries away and help her enjoy herself after the absolute wonder she had just performed.

His eyes flickered away for a moment, drawn by the lights, music, and laughter to their side, and his concerned frown melted into a mischievous grin as an idea came to mind.

“Do you really want to do something for me?

Amalia blinked, taken aback by the sudden question. She nodded vehemently when the words registered in her mind. “Yes, of course! Anything!”

She raised an eyebrow when all Yugo did in response was chuckle fondly, only to let out a quiet gasp when he held her hand in his and his other one snaked around her waist, bringing her flush against him. Her cheeks burned from the intimate contact.

Her heart was thumping in her ribcage so loudly, she almost didn't hear him say, “Then come dance with me.”

An ear-splitting grin broke across her face, her brown eyes shining with elation. All night she had been staring longingly at the dancefloor, secretly hoping Yugo would ask her to dance with him. And he just did! Oh, sweet Sadida above, she was so happy she might as well burst.

Unable to contain her squeal of excitement, Amalia broke the embrace Yugo had her in. Before a confused king could ask her about it, she grabbed him by the wrist and practically dragged him to the dancefloor as she hurriedly climbed down the stairs leading to it. Not like Yugo was complaining. Only when they made their way between the throngs of spinning dancers, did they retake their previous position.

And so, they danced the night away between festive cheers and elated cries. Every time Yugo spun her away before bringing her back to his side, Amalia couldn't help but giggle, a huge grin splitting her face. And all Yugo could do whenever she came back to her senses and realised her hair must be a mess from all the dancing was stare down adoringly at her, quietly hoping that would be the first Sacred Dance Days of many they’d get to spend like this.

And all the while, the pendant around Amalia's neck would glint softly under the moonlight and party lights. A clear reflection of the connection between Sadida and Eliatrope the two of them were forging together.

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geekgirles · 1 month ago

Text

The Doll and the Dragon

Chapter 10: Connection Found

Word Count: 31,275

Read on AO3

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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?”

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