#general joris

[mafiaamongstus]

Does Joris ever miss their old life? Like, the life it had before she was Joris?

W̵̱͒͊́͐-̶̛̖̠͕̩͕̤̤͂̋̍̿̎͆͐̋̏w̵̨̰̖̻̉̄͆̌̊̔͊́h̸́̓��̟̦̳̖̬̜̣̦͂̀͆͆ǫ̸̢̺̟̼̝̣̳̀͑̎̈́̚̕ ̷̤͎͚͕͉̾̑I̶̳͖͍̹̼̾͐ ̸̝͚̻͇̮̩̲͛̿̃̂͗̎u̸̧̪̖͕̬͙͒͝s̶͊̓͗̿̎̿͘��̙͎̳̗̬͍̌͗ě̵͎̗͉͘d̸̯̩̣͍̣͖̘̖̼̠̽̀̇͑̔̓̉̒͋ ̷̲͉̼͓̳͛̌̊̔̎̚͠t̵͔̦͓̪͈̺͊̓̾ō̶̙̘̹͚̾͗͗̍̈́͗̚͠ ̵̮͎̱̅̊̅̅͊̈́̈́͐̔̕b̴̖͎̗̹̭̫͈̂̎̈́͌e̵̫̹̙̗̖͊͐̊̈́̒̒̑͠?̴̡̳͓̳͈͑̀̈́͛̍͂̎̚

(alt text: w-who I used to be?)

Before it was Joris, it was known as Xiakh-sthri. It lived a quiet life, though a complicated one. Living in the snowplains of Polus is no easy feat, especially when the Kinling society is still reeling with the after-effects of the Spiri war.

It was hard, but Xiakh-sthri enjoyed it. It took care of a small garden, raised a pack of Rammies, and generally kept to itself.

Then came the call to join the war against humans. Xiakh-sthri, who had lost several relatives to the Spiri, closed itself up on its farm, hiding away from the war.

Years passed this way. Was it ashamed? of course. But better ashamed and alive than proud to fight and dead.

Then came the second call. That humans were not the Spiri, that they were more akin to the Kinlings, terrified of their alien aggressors and fighting to protect their way of life. And if they fought this hard against the Kinlings, how great would the humans be against the Spiri?

And so, the great assimilation began. No longer would the Kinlings attack and replace humans, instead, they would form their own identities out of the shadows of their old. The Kinlings would form a new life for themselves, protected by the humans. And when the time was right, they would be able to reveal themselves, and form a bond that would last throughout all of time and space.

Xiakh-sthri finally left its farm, setting free its pets, tearing down the fences that protected its garden. Xiakh-sthri left its home, and began making its way to its new one. It would find the human base, and it would wait for the right chance to join them.

And then, as it traveled the snowbanks under cover of a storm, it met Joris.

Brilliant, empathic, dying Joris.

Xiakh-sthri does long for the days when life was simpler. When it did not need to pretend to be a war general in a war that was no longer to be fought. When it did not have to cause itself pain to rearrange itself in order to not be discovered by the old man that threatened vivisection to the faceless Kinlings that had attacked him once.

But then, it would still be alone.

And to a species that thrives on connection, there is no worse fate.

So yes, Xiakh-sthri does miss the days before it was Joris.

But Xiakh-sthri was alone.

Joris was not alone.

Joris is not alone.

[xxdreamscapes]

AI could NEVER come up with “Ice Cream For Ke$ha”

[pastelesque]

🧪gen one: mint🌿

meet jory (he/him), your local bisexual himbo who has four pairs of the same pants, wears beanies in the summer, and loves I mean LOVES ice spice

[imaginary-eddie]

Rewatching Gilmore girls and fighting the urge to read Jess x Rory fanfiction

[victorious-incorrect-quotes]

Jori Christmas Themed Fanfic (Generate by A.I)

Title: "Underneath the Mistletoe"

Tori shuffled through the crowded Christmas market, her cheeks flushed from the cold. Amidst the cheerful chaos, she spotted Jade, bundled up in her signature dark attire, browsing through handmade ornaments.

"Hey," Tori called out, approaching her. "Finding anything interesting?"

Jade glanced up, her eyes softening at the sight of Tori. "Not really. Just the usual overpriced trinkets."

They strolled through the market together, occasionally stopping to admire twinkling lights and savor warm treats. As the evening deepened, Tori's gaze fell upon a bunch of mistletoe hanging from a stall.

"Look," Tori pointed. "Mistletoe."

Jade raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"So, tradition says anyone standing beneath it has to share a kiss," Tori teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Jade rolled her eyes, but a faint blush crept onto her cheeks. "That's ridiculous."

Before Jade could protest further, Tori gently took her hand, pulling her beneath the mistletoe. They stood face to face, the festive foliage dangling overhead.

"Come on, indulge me in some holiday magic," Tori whispered, her breath forming a small cloud in the chilly air.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the bustling market faded into the background. Jade hesitated for a heartbeat before leaning in, capturing Tori's lips in a tender kiss. Time seemed to stand still as they shared an unspoken warmth amidst the wintry night.

When they parted, Tori's smile mirrored the sparkle of the lights around them. "Merry Christmas, Jade."

Jade smirked, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Merry Christmas, Vega."

As they continued their stroll, a newfound closeness enveloped them, their fingers intertwined, a silent promise lingering in the air—a promise of more shared moments beneath the mistletoe and beyond.

[End of snippet]

How's that for a bit of Jori festive romance?

[termagax]

☀️🌕

☀️🌕 - what is your character like at their best / worst

jory - at his best he's playful in a slightly-annoying snarky way, an affectionate person who is easy to talk to and really fun to do stuff with, endearingly the "crazy" friend who is always down to do something weird, and confident in the way where he just doesnt really give a fuck about what people say about him. at his worst, he's petty and mean in really pointed, personal ways, insecure about everything and mad about it and gets self destructive about it. obsessed with his image and will assume everyone is talking shit about him until proven otherwise. a guy trapped in his own body and terrified of other people.

morgan - at his best he's a very gentle, comforting person with a very warm energy, tends to be quiet but is very observant and in-tune with what other people are thinking, laid back and down for anything, a good shoulder to cry on and the kind of guy you call to help you when your cars broken down at the side of the road at three in the morning. he's got good self-discipline and puts his heart into everything he does, speaks through his hands, confident because he knows who he is and likes it. at his worst hes depressive and apathetic, tends to isolate and get really moody - easy to provoke, but hates the person he is when hes mad so he spirals about it. convinced that he's fucked his life up beyond repair and cant bring himself to do anything that might fix it for fear of fucking up again. a guy trapped in his own brain and terrified of himself.

[i-am-me-i-am-sam]

.

[theotherpacman]

got s1 is really a very faithful adaptation of agot, with only minor divergences. sometimes I really love the little details in the book that the show doesn't have room for, but sometimes I like the decisions the show made differently.

things I appreciate about the book:

the fact that jon is 14 makes his naivete regarding the wall hit so much harder. he's just a little boy and he's willing to sign his whole life away bc he believes he can be a part of something noble... neither his father nor his uncle nor anyone else tells him that to take the black is a grim sentence steeped in shame

ned hearing that bran's direwolf saved his life and being like "holy shit I killed one of them... what the fuck did I do"

sandor just whole ass traumadumping on 11-year-old sansa completely unprompted and then when he realizes he's just made himself vulnerable for literally no reason he goes "if you tell anyone about this I'll fucking kill you"

mormont thinks jon will be disappointed that bran is now a cripple but jon is so ecstatic bran's alive that he picks up tyrion lannister and spins him around (tyrion is startled by this) and then proceeds to cheerfully make friends with a guy who hates his guts bc jon kicked his absolute ass in training

tyrion and bronn starting to become friends on the way to the vale <3

THAT SINGER BITCH i love him

"whatever you may believe of me, lady stark, I promise you this -- I never bet against my family" screaming crying throwing up

jon going to maester aemon and convincing him to let sam take his vows!!!! using the metaphor of the maester's chain to make his point about how just bc sam is different that doesn't mean he's useless!!!!!!!

TYRION FIGHTING IN THE BATTLE AGAINST ROBB'S MEN!!!!! THE SHOW DID HIM SO FUCKING DIRTY i get that they didn't have as big a budget back then but come on man ToT

"when the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. when the seas go dry and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves. when your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. then he will return, and not before." LET THE BARRENNESS BE PART OF THE CURSE why did they cut that

when tywin says "because you are my son" tyrion fucking Hates him for that bc he knows that if jaime were he tywin wouldn't spare him a second glance, he's only Tywin's Son now that jaime is prisoner and might die at the hands of the starks

things I appreciate about the show:

arya shooting a bullseye from behind bran. queen

jaime being a dick to everyone all the time for no reason. just going around starting shit. also that scene outside robert's bedroom where he talks to jory. jaime in general

ROS!!!!! MY GIRL ROS MY ABSOLUTE QUEEN ROS

"she's our guest." "she's our prisoner." "do you find the two to be mutually exclusive in your experience, my lord?" lmaooooo get his ass maester luwin

"sometimes possession,,,,, is an abstract concept"

THE DRINKING GAME!!!! first of all it gives us more insight into shae as a person who is so different from tyrion's established worldviews, secondly tyrion is always going around saying offensive shit and he thinks nothing of it bc a) people say offensive shit to him all the time and that's one of the ways he deals with it and b) he's usually right BUT when he makes all those assumptions about shae he's totally wrong and she stands up for herself, but my favorite part of that scene is that tyrion is hesitant to share this traumatic story from his past but he's just made bronn and shae confront their traumas so now he has to share too. and I think that's beautiful

all of varys and petyr's bitchy conversations when they're alone in the throne room

this only covers the first book/season I might make more of these as I keep reading

[softtdaisy]

the right one - Charles Leclerc

summary. charles never forgave himself for letting you go. when arthur lose you, he is the one who has the heal your broken heart this time.

words count. 4,313

what to expect. it's the second part of the other one. I guess you can read it separately but some things might not make sense (specially the glue part). inspired by congratulations from Hamilton. mention of cheating, everyone is so sad in this story I'm sorry (im not) and arthur is terrible boyfriend

a/n. can you believe i told @monzabee about this fic in December 2023??? and it's finally out after all this time. I'm so happy I finally did it and gave these two another part, they deserve love and happiness.

F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

When he first heard them, Charles didn’t want to believe the rumors.

For the winter break, he decided to go on a road trip in Italy with his best friends. For multiple reasons, he chose to get rid of any type of social media. Charles needed a real break after the season that had been more difficult than he thought it would. 

Also because a part of him still hasn’t gotten over you.

It was too difficult to see Arthur post pictures and stories with you all the time. And if he couldn’t escape it, nor you in the paddock during the season, Charles decided to leave all his bad feelings behind for a few weeks.

No matter how hard he tried these past months, Charles couldn’t get rid of his love for you. If he ignored you during the end of last season, even if he had your glue everywhere with him, he wanted to be nicer this year. 

Not like he had a choice if he wanted to keep a good relationship with Arthur, who still had no idea about what happened between you and Charles. He also wasn’t completely stupid: he knew it could look bad on him if he kept ignoring the photographer around the paddock. 

And it would be a lie to say that he didn’t miss you. Sure, a part of him was still aching when he was making you laugh and smile, thinking he couldn’t have the privilege to see that every day for the rest of his life because you chose Arthur over him. But he tried to be more mature and accept that if this was the best he could have, then he would appreciate it.

This was also one of the reasons why he couldn’t believe the rumors when he heard them. There was no universe in which someone would purposely hurt you.

The first time he heard about the rumors, it was because some friends from Monaco sent him a text. “What’s going on with Arthur? Is it true?” Charles was more than confused. What could be true about his brother? He didn’t want to sound stupid to ask them but still didn’t want to put his social media back on his phone.

So he turned to Joris. Because that man knew everything that there is to know. And because he knew that his friend would never lie to him. This explained the embarrassed expression on his face when Charles asked him if he knew anything about something Arthur might have done.

“You sure you want to know?” he asked him. Charles understood that something serious was going on. Even when the truth was ugly, Joris never asked him if he really wanted him to be honest. Not when Ferrari was not doing great, not when fans criticized him, not when everyone had something to say about his private life. But he didn’t hesitate a single second and agreed to hear the truth.

“Apparently…your brother cheated on his girlfriend.” Charles’ world went silent for a few seconds. That couldn’t be true. He couldn't believe it. People must be wrong and bored and choose to create drama because of the off-season. Right? 

“Actually…” Joris continued. “It’s not really a rumor since Arthur basically admitted it.”

It was a damper. 

Charles left for a few weeks, and his brother decided to ruin everything he gave up his own happiness for?

“Is it true?” He sent Arthur. No explanation.

“Yes.” He only answered.

It took Charles only a few hours to come back to Monaco. On the plane back, he opened his social media again, answered some comments and messages, and shared some Ferrari stuff. And looked at the mess Arthur created.

“Let’s review…” Charles started. As soon as he arrived, he asked Arthur and Lorenzo to come with him in the living room to discuss. They all stayed at the family house to deal with the major crisis. From what he learned, paparazzis were going around Monaco to catch any of you: Lorenzo, Arthur, and especially you. The victim of all this mess. 

Charles still hasn't seen you, though. Lorenzo’s girlfriend took you for a ride away from there, knowing Charles was coming back and that there would be a confrontation between the brothers. You didn’t need to hear about all that again. You knew the story. Well, you knew some parts of it. You refused to hear Arthur’s explanation. 

Charles knew it was for the better, but he still couldn’t wait to see you. Scared of how you would be. Scared of how he will react too.

He finally took a big breath before continuing. “This girl pretended to be pregnant with your child. And instead of just saying that you didn’t have sex with her, you said she wasn’t the one you slept with?” He chose his words wisely, taking the time to say everything correctly. Even if there were no good ways to talk about this situation.

“I panicked! What should I have done?”

“Don't say anything!” he screamed back, slamming his hands on the table. “You should have just shut your mouth and not said a fucking thing.”

“Charles…” Lorenzo warned him, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

He sighed and apologized, trying to calm down. His brother was right; there was no use being aggressive against Arthur. The harm has been done and couldn’t be undone. But when he gave his baby brother a look, he couldn’t handle it. Arthur looked like he didn’t understand why Charles was so angry. Like he couldn’t see the real harm in this. “Or better, you shouldn’t have cheated,” he added. 

Everything stopped around the three brothers. “Charles!” Lorenzo repeated, louder this time and with a more authoritarian tone. Like there was back in childhood when he had to play the big brother between the two younger brothers fighting for the same car. 

Except this time, it was for the same girl.

Charles knew he had to calm down and play it more cleverly. He closed his eyes and put his head in his hands, trying to think of a way to say things more nicely without making Arthur turn on him. He didn’t even know how he could do that: he was so mad at his brother for doing such a stupid thing.

“Aren’t you supposed to support me?” Arthur asked with a disdainful voice that made Charles look up immediately. He couldn’t even find the right way to answer this. Maybe Arthur could feel the disappointment, which is why he looked that angry. He was never the Leclerc who disappointed the family.

Lorenzo had a lot of pressure as the big brother, the one that had to be a model and perfect at any point. Charles had the celebrity pressure; being the most famous Leclerc, he had to behave perfectly. But Arthur? Everybody saw him as the baby, never accepting any bad decisions from him. Or even when he did, he was forgiven immediately.

He was not used to having people being mad at him. You were, which was already a problem. But Charles was too, and that he couldn’t handle. This explained why Arthur went upstairs silently. Well, as silently as he was, hitting the staircase loudly. 

Charles let out a loud sigh when Arthur disappeared. “You two need to talk.” Lorenzo told him, to which he agreed without the desire to deal with that right now. Instead, he started talking with his more reasonable brother about their holidays. He knew Arthur needed some minutes to calm down.

He needed them too.

He only decided to go upstairs when he saw the car parking in front of the house. You were back. 

And he couldn’t face you right now.

— 

“Thank you for coming.” Charles stopped what he was doing after that sentence. He had finally gone to see Arthur after you came back home. He waited just a minute to hear your voice, even if he couldn’t see you. He had no idea if he should accept some good or bad feeling from hearing you. He was torn between the fire that lit up again in his heart from your simple words and the hurt of knowing he was only there because of his and Arthur's bad decisions.

After he entered his brother’s room, the one he assumed you shared with him, they both stayed silent for a moment. Charles was dealing with his social media when Arthur finally decided to speak. 

And Charles was more confused than he should be. What did this mean? He turned around to look at Arthur. He was still standing next to the window, watching you outside talking with Lorenzo’s girlfriend. There was something on Arthur’s face that Charles didn’t like. Almost like he couldn’t understand why you came back. Why were you still around? Like he was waiting for you to go away after what happened. 

“I don’t know how to deal with that. I needed you here.” 

This time, it was Charles that couldn’t truly understand what was going on. Actually, no, he can. He loved his baby brother with his whole heart and would have done anything for him. To protect him. To save him from whatever situation he put himself into. But now, looking at him with the whole situation going around, Charles realized something. 

Arthur knew. He knew that Charles would have always come to his rescue. Sacrifice things for him. Do anything for his brother’s happiness before his. And that’s what he was expecting from today too.

“No.” Charles first said, mostly for himself. But it made Arthur turn around too, curious. For the rest, it came out more confidently. Like a part of him had been waiting for ages to finally say these words. “I’m not here for you.” 

He heard Arthur’s nervous laugh, and he took a step back. He wasn’t even scared of his brother; it would have been stupid for many reasons. No, he was more scared of his own mind right now. He still couldn’t believe he said it. Out loud. What he was thinking from the start.

You became his priority. 

You had been for so long. 

But Arthur didn’t let him go away with him and took this step forward and some others. “What do you mean?”

“You fucked up, Arthur.” Charles started, pointing at the window. Pointing at you. “You cheated on your girlfriend. She was willing to give up everything for you; she already did in the past. And you thank her like that? By sleeping with some other girl you don’t even know? Do you seriously think that’s what she deserves?” 

Arthur looked at him blankly. With just a smirk. Not a fun or laughing one. No, a mean one. One that Charles had never seen on his brother. It was almost like he was discovering a new face for his baby brother. And the worst was yet to come.

“You still love her.” Arthur said with an emotionless voice. And it was a real hit in the heart for Charles. He never thought that Arthur knew about his feelings. Sure, he had never been more discreet when it came to his heart. And the way he went from praising you to ignoring you during the weekend said a lot. Maybe the worst part wasn’t much that Arthur knew about his feelings. It was that he knew and let Charles sacrifice himself for him. “I should have expected it. She’s hard to forget, I guess.”

“You’re going to learn now.” Arthur laughed at this answer because it was the truth. He played, and he lost. Just like Charles did last year, technically. If Charles gave up, Arthur lost at his own game. The game over wasn’t the same, except for the fact the lost prize was the same: you. You and your heart. You and your beautiful smile were maybe gone for longer than it should have been.

Charles couldn’t handle it anymore. The more he stayed in this room, the more he was getting hate for his brother, and it was definitely not the family dynamic he wanted. So he walked to the door, ready to leave. Or to finally do what he wanted from the beginning. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

Charles turned around one last time to look at his brother. But Arthur wasn’t looking at him. He took his place back, near the window. Watching you. From there, it looked like he was trapped in some kind of prison. One he was to blame for being in. But maybe the real story behind this was that he was the watchman and you were the prisoner. At least for now.

“Why did you let me date her?” 

“Sometimes you love someone so much you accept to put their happiness before yours.” Arthur gave him one single look. One that said everything that needed to be known. He wasn’t the one Charles gave up his happiness for. He did it thinking it was the right decision for you.

— 

When Charles went outside, you were still there. Alone this time. You sat on the swing seat, your eyes locked on your own shoes, not giving any interest to the environment around you. Charles’ heart broke a little at this sight. The sun wasn’t supposed to stop shining on the people around it. You weren’t supposed to stop being this joyful person. 

Even if he tried to walk slowly and not scare you, you jumped when Charles sat next to you. “Sorry,” he immediately mumbled. You offered him a small smile while he was trying to find a good seat. Ironically, he was making it move even more and making it harder to sit.

You were the one holding on to the structure to slow the movements. “I’m not great at this.” He laughed nervously. Charles didn’t know how to act around you. It wasn’t easy most of the time. But now it was even harder. They never teach you how to act around the woman you loved and let go, but even less when this same woman got her heart broken by your brother. 

“Thank God you’re better behind the wheel,” you replied, now looking straight in front of you. You couldn’t meet his eyes. You felt guilty. Sure, this whole situation wasn’t your fault; nothing could ever make you think that. But you hated that Charles had to comfort you now. After what happened between you last year, it didn’t feel right. Or fair. 

Charles shrugged, purposely hitting on your shoulder while doing it. “Well, you’re not seeing him when I sit in the car.” You turned your face to him and couldn’t contain a laugh when you saw his proud expression. In the dark, his smile was the small light you needed to not break down. It made you feel like there was still hope out there.

So when Charles stopped smiling, naturally a tear fell from your eye. “I’m so stupid,” you sighed, playing with your fingers. Immediately, he grabbed one of your hands and started playing with them too. You remember how it was something you did to him back then, when there was still something building around you. When he walked out of the car, he wasn’t very proud of what he did.

You both had the same habit of playing with your hands to avoid eye contact and focusing on something else. 

You also both had the same habit of grabbing each other’s hand to help ease the anxiety. 

“I never thought Ar…he would break my heart like that,” you confessed in a quiet and broken voice. A voice that was like a knife right in Charles’ heart. “You said it yourself, he has a pure heart. So why did he change? What did I do wrong?” 

You started crying again. And Charles was fighting to not break down too. He hated seeing you like this. He hated that he was the one pushing you into Arthur’s arms. If Charles didn’t cause the pain, he was the triggering factor. If only he had been more selfish and kept you for himself, this wouldn’t have happened.

He got up, making the structure move again, but this time you didn’t have the strength to hold it. But the swinging didn’t last long. Charles immediately kneeled in front of you, grabbing your legs to stop you from swaying. And once you were stable, one of his hands moved to your face softly. You didn’t hesitate a single second before cuddling against it, even if it meant your tears would now fall on his fingers. If you didn’t want to share your pain with him, that was all Charles was asking. To take it with him so you would feel less hurt.

“You have nothing to do with Arthur’s mistakes, ok? I hate to say that, but I was wrong. I really thought he would treat you better than…” He stopped for a second, closing his eyes to consider what he wanted to say. But he was tired of holding back his words. “Better than I would. I never imagined he would do that; otherwise, I would have never pushed you in his arms. You deserve better, ok?” 

You were absorbing every single word he was saying. Trying to remember every millisecond of his monologue so you could recite it before going to sleep that night and all the following ones when you would remember giving your heart to the wrong brother. 

“You deserve the world.” Charles pursued. You watched as he put a hand in his jacket pocket to get something. “And I hope one day you’ll find the strength to open that glue too and accept the help from someone to heal your broken heart.” 

He handed you the glue. The very same glue you gave him for his birthday. You weren’t quite sure Charles had healed his heart; he wasn’t sure himself. 

The fact he kept it this whole time—more than that, that he had it with him tonight—was the forward thrust you needed.

You thanked him silently, with a smile that he understood immediately. Charles stayed like that for another minute, brushing away the tears that were still falling and caressing your knee in the softest way you’ve ever felt.

Then he sat back on the swing seat, with more precaution this time. For the next ten minutes, he tried to change your mind by speaking of the last season and what was coming. You didn’t speak much, except for some reactions here and there. The conversation wasn’t the real distraction in the end.

It was seeing Charles so full of life, something you’ve waited to see since you’ve met him. Deep down, you took it as proof that a better future was coming.

“Let’s go inside.” Charles offered after noticing the shivers in your body grow bigger. “I can escort you to your room.” He knew that you were staying in the guest room. It wasn’t hard to guess anyway, as all the brothers took their own room, and there was no way you would be sleeping with Arthur that night. 

A part of him wished he could comfort you to sleep anyway. 

Especially after you grabbed his hand to follow him inside. So lightly that he could let it go easily if he didn’t pay attention. But enough for him to feel the contact of your skin together and feel the heat growing in him. 

“Goodnight,” you whispered to him, closing the door. Charles hated how he only noticed now how your makeup had actually been ruined through the day.

___

Charles was taking his shirt off when he heard slight bangs on his door. He was clearly not expecting anybody, especially not now and not in his family house. 

His mom was already asleep; Lorenzo was never the type to come when the doors were closed; Arthur still hadn’t come back from what he knew. So it didn’t leave many possibilities.

As he could expect, you were the one behind the door when he opened it. Charles found it sad that you were still wearing the same pajamas you probably brought for your holiday: an old shirt that he recognized from Arthur’s wardrobe and a short that was showing too much leg for his own good. 

But what made him even sadder was the expression on your face. If he thought you looked sad earlier, it was nothing compared to now.

“Do you mind if…” You didn’t even finish your sentence before your voice broke down. Charles moved aside to let you come in, giving a look in the corridor to make sure you were alone. Even if he didn’t have to explain himself if anybody saw you. 

He would never let you be alone in the situation. Nor ever, now that he thought about it.

What he didn’t expect was that the moment he closed the door, you would fall in his arms. You didn’t show much attention to him except for accepting the one he gave you earlier. But you were the one who initiated it. Compared to now.

“I'm so tired of this, Charles,” you mumbled against his naked chest. The first thing that came to your mind was how you never felt more safe and comfortable than right now, in his arms. Not even Arthur could make for his big brother natural reassurance. 

It was something that has always been true about Charles. People, friends, members of the team, family, and anyone who needed to feel comfort knew they could go to Charles for this. If he felt like he wasn’t always finding the right words, it seemed to work enough for people to feel better when they left.

Maybe that was always true about him too. People never seemed to stay.

“He’s not planning on coming back, and he left alone here, in your family house? What am I even supposed to do here by myself?” You started again, sounding angrier now. “I can’t fucking sleep in his bed because it makes me sick. Sleeping in the guest bed makes me feel bad because I don’t belong here. I feel bad because he’s not here. But he’s the one who fucked up. Why do I feel bad? Why do I feel guilty? Charles, I…”

Every word you said was like a knife in the heart for him. Hurting more than the punches you were hitting on his chest.

With each hour passing from this morning, Charles felt worse about the decision he took months ago. He should have never let you go. He would have never treated you this way. 

When you broke down, Charles held you harder against his chest. He was humming, trying to calm you down. His head was above yours, and at some point, he naturally started kissing your hair. He was trying to create a peaceful bubble where you would feel at ease. Less sad.

“You can sleep here,” Charles offered in a whisper. “I don’t mind.” 

It wasn’t until you were lying in his bed that you asked the question. Charles’ idea was to let you sleep in his bed and for him to sleep in the guest room. At least you didn’t risk Arthur coming at night, and he could deal with his brother. It never occurred to you that you would ask for the situation to be different.

But you grabbed his hand after he moved the sheet up your chest. “Would you…can you stay with me? Please?” 

Charles looked at you with confusion but also hope. A hope that lowered over the months but that never died. He replied with a simple nod and sweet smile. A reassuring one. In a home where you probably felt unwelcome, even if it wasn’t entirely true, Charles wanted you to know you were at the right place right now.

So he didn’t waste another minute and went to lie next to you. The boundaries were pretty obvious with each of you sleeping at the end of the bed and with a gap between your bodies. While you were facing the wall, he was on his back, trying to organize the mess that had been that day. 

Right when he closed his eyes to try to sleep, he felt the mattress moving. He couldn’t resist giving you a look. You were now facing him with your eyes open. “Charles?” you whispered. 

He was obviously awake, yet you were scared of disturbing him. But he gave you that smile. The one he only had the secret. The one that opened the door to his life, his head, his heart. 

“Will it be ok?” 

You knew he would understand what you meant.

When you met Charles, he was so heartbroken that he chose to put all the good things in his life aside because he felt like he didn’t deserve to be happy anymore. And even if his anxiety was still a battle he had to fight every day, it got better. A few months ago, he probably would have ignored you because he would have thought it wasn’t his place to comfort you. To be the good person in your life.

But there he was, sharing a bed with you. Thinking that maybe tomorrow could be better. And that two days later could be even better.

He knew.

That was why he took your hand, the one resting on your pillow next to your face. He held it until you chose to intertwine your fingers together. A contact you both needed. To heal the past and the future.

Charles moved to lie on his side, facing you. And with his thumb brushing your skin, he gave you the only thing you needed to hear that night.

The only thing he also needed to say. 

“It will. I promise."

[blasphemousclaw]

Are the omens and hornsent the same?

short answer: no

so to explain why the omen and the hornsent are different, we first have to understand what it means to be hornsent… the hornsent aren’t a species, they’re a civilization of humans defined by the horns that grow on their bodies:

“Hornsent view the Crucible as sacred for the refinement wrought through its evolutionary gifts. Most prominently, their tangled horns.”

“Horns are sublime artifacts to hornsent, and their presence confirms the belief that they are a chosen people. Only the repeated sprouting of fresh horns can create a tangled horn, which is viewed as an irrefutable symbol of primacy.”

“The Crucible has a particularly strong influence on the beasts of the realm of shadow, causing many to grow horns despite the characteristics of their species.”

the hornsent sprout horns because the Crucible has a strong presence in the land of shadow and causes horns to sprout on creatures who don’t normally have horns… the hornsent, who revere the Crucible and its “spiral current,” saw this as a blessing and as proof that they were “a chosen people,” so they cultivated this trait. in hornsent society, the larger and more tangled your horns are, the more awesome and cool and holy you are. this is why Jori, the leader of the theocratic hornsent inquisition, has the largest, most tangled horns of all:

however, hornsent can also be born with no horns at all. this means that they'd be seen as sad and cringe. you can find hornless hornsent bound in chains, which means they might have even been a sort of slave caste... which, given what their society is like, wouldn't surprise me if that were the case:

(source: Zullie the Witch)

the omen, on paper, are the same as the hornsent — humans who were influenced by the Crucible, which caused horns to grow on their bodies. but the reason why they aren’t actually the same is because simply having horns doesn't make you hornsent. again, the hornsent are not a species, and “hornsent” isn’t a generic term for people with horns… the hornsent are a culture, a culture which the omen were very much not born into! unlike the hornsent, the omen were born into a society that sees their horns as impurities:

"A vestige of the crucible of primordial life. Born partially of devolution, it was considered a signifier of the divine in ancient times, but is now increasingly disdained as an impurity as civilization has advanced."

traits associated with the Crucible, including horns, became less and less accepted under the Golden Order as time went on... basically, the omen were seen as impure and unclean, unfit for the Erdtree's grace and excluded from society.

but there's actually something else that makes the omen fundamentally different from the hornsent... they're referred to as having "accursed blood"?

"Warped blade of shifting hue used by Morgott, the Omen King. The accursed blood that Morgott recanted and sealed away reformed into this blade."

"The mother of truth craves wounds. When Mohg stood before her, deep underground, his accursed blood erupted with fire, and he was besotted with the defilement that he was born into."

"Trident of Mohg, Lord of Blood. A sacred spear that will come to symbolize his dynasty. As well as serving as a weapon, it is an instrument of communion with an outer god who bestows power upon accursed blood." 

it seems that there is something inherently different about omen blood that doesn't seem to be the case with the hornsent? omen can also innately produce a black-brown flame, which we never see any hornsent enemies do (pretty sure the inquisitors' fire is just normal fire from their candles). INTERESTINGLY, there's two items from the base game, the Omen Bairn and the Regal Omen Bairn, that produce these brown-flame wraiths... but a similar item from the DLC, the Horned Bairn, produces "vengeful spirits" that are pale and colorless!!

it's almost like the wraiths produced by the omen are "unclean" compared to the hornsent ones!

so I think this pretty definitively proves there's something more going on with the omen? but why is this the case?? Dung Eater's ending makes me think that the omen might be "cursed" simply because their existence is incompatible with the Order under the Erdtree...

"Curse grown on a corpse killed and defiled by the Dung Eater. A tender pox afflicted with omen horns. The Dung Eater cultivates the seedbed curse on corpses. By doing so he prevents dead souls returning to the Erdtree, leaving them forever cursed."

"Loathsome rune gestated by the Dung Eater. Used to restore the fractured Elden Ring when brandished by the Elden Lord. The reviled curse will last eternally, and the world's children, grandchildren, and every generation hence, will be its pustules. If Order is defiled entirely, defilement is defilement no more, and for every curse, a cursed blessing."

but there's also the theory that the omen curse was actually created by the dying hornsent as revenge upon their attackers... Hornsent Grandam says this when attacked:

"A curse upon thee, rotten miscreant. A curse upon the strumpet's progeny, upon Marika's children each and all. The curse of the omen shall strike thee down... In the form of the sacred beast's ire. May the curse strike thee… To the very last..."

she specifically calls it the "curse of the omen!" the one thing that makes me question this theory though is that she also says "in the form of the sacred beast's ire," and we know the divine beast's ire takes the form of storms... nothing like anything the omen do. an interesting theory nonetheless!

anyway TL;DR, the hornsent and the omen are different because 1. the hornsent are a culture (not a generic name for horned people), and the omen were specifically born under the Erdtree's Order, and 2. the omen are tangibly "cursed," but the hornsent are not

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (9/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Finding an outfit is harder that it seams. Especially when your roommate can't really help you, because he's at his other apartment.

Warnings: fluff, angst (whoops), mentions of cheating (not Charles), mentions of smut (oral, fingering, p in v), angry Charles, text messages

Word Count: 3.6k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: here it is friends. did my absolute best and honestly, I'm sweating so hard. I chose the name for Charles ex bc it’s the name of the girl my best friend absolutely despises. and this is not a Charlotte hate acc. hope you like it still. feedback is appreciated!

The weather app on your phone is of relatively little help. 

Charles had said that you were going out to dinner around eight o'clock in the evening, and according to the app, it should still be fifteen degrees then, even though it's December. While he had said that "it doesn't matter what you wear," but if you were going to be spending more time with him soon, and by extension his friends, you would want to make a good first impression. 

Not that your first impression on Charles was particularly good. 

Since you promised Charles that he could sleep in his bed tonight, you try to keep the mess of clothes to a minimum. Instead of pulling each piece of clothing out of the closet and then tossing it into the nearest corner because it doesn't match what you had in mind, you put things neatly folded back in their place. 

After your roommate left the apartment, you started cleaning up your room so it wouldn't be too embarrassing if Charles stayed there tonight. After all, he doesn't need to see your underwear or the little stuffed animal turtle that sleeps in bed with you. Generally things that maybe old friends know about you, but definitely not the roommate you've been living with for two days.

The roommate who is no help to you when it comes to choosing clothes for tonight. Since he hasn't told you which restaurant it is, you don't know exactly what the dress code looks like, which is why you're now standing in front of the closet at a loss. 

In Monaco, when it comes to restaurant choice, anything is possible. You could dine at Le Louis XV, the most expensive restaurant in Monte-Carlo, or Jack Monaco, which is significantly cheaper, but you have a direct view of the harbor with the oversized and expensive yachts.

Secretly, you hope it won't be too expensive tonight. Joris would pay you back the rent soon, but you're still unemployed and unfortunately can't live quite as carefree Charles, who apparently has enough money at his disposal to have not one, but two apartments in Monaco. 

A fact that you would never blame him for. 

When you can't find anything that would theoretically go with any restaurant visit, you drop onto the bed, annoyed. It can't be that hard to find something, right? You fish your cell phone out of the pocket of your sweater and start typing. 

Briefly, you consider actually sending the message, but alas, you're so desperate that you feel you have no choice. You hit send and are about to throw the phone across the room as if you've just confessed to your school crush that you like him. 

But Charles isn't your school crush. He's your roommate and first and foremost your friend, which is why you just drop the phone on the bed next to you. 

You sit up and narrow your eyes as you go through the clothes in the open closet. Somewhere in there is a pair of dark gray, straight-cut jeans that match the white blouse you carefully hung back on the hanger a few minutes ago. 

And sure enough. After a few minutes of rummaging around in the clothes, you find the jeans and as you hold them up next to the blouse, you're relatively pleased with the choice. There should also be shoes floating around somewhere that should go with them. But at least this is a good start. 

Satisfied, you clean up the rest of the room. Since Charles has not invited you to dinner, but also to a club, you will certainly be home late, so you decide to make up Charles' bed. Your bedding disappears into the hall closet after you take Charles' things out. As you bring them into the bedroom and spread them out on the bed, you find yourself briefly considering pressing your face into the pillow. For sure, Charles smells attached to it. 

But before you can do that, your cell phone vibrates. It's a message from Charles. 

Your heart skips a beat. Do friends give each other compliments like that? You glance from your phone to Charles' pillow, then to your outfit for tonight. You bite the inside of your cheek and start typing. 

You plug your phone into the charging cord as you head toward the bathroom to shower and get ready for the evening, so you don't see the two messages Charles sends you.

-

The Ferrari feels different somehow. After Charles sat in your old Renault yesterday, the expensive Ferrari feels strange under him. Not wrong, but different. Like something is missing. 

He feels the stares on him as he steers the car through the streets of Monaco. The gray Ferrari attracts attention, with its red and white stripes and the number 16 on the side. But not just because the 488 Pista Spider is a beautiful car. 

But because people know who owns the car.

The fact that you don't know that Charles is the Charles Leclerc is refreshing for him, but the guilty conscience gnaws at him. He should tell you that he drives in Formula 1, because after all, you would be dragged into the limelight by him, should people find out that you are friends and, above all, that you live together. Before that happens, he should at least give you the opportunity to get out of it. 

But Charles is too selfish for that. 

Even though you've only known each other for a short time, Charles enjoys your company too much to mess it up. You're so normal, so kind, without asking for anything in return like most want him to do. You're just you. And by God, he's never felt better than in his short time with you. 

He expertly steers the Ferrari into a parking garage entrance, where he has to type a pin into the designated keypad next to him before the barrier. The barrier opens so that he can drive a few meters further, where a metal gate awaits him, where he also has to enter a pin - a different one. Only then does he reach the parking lot that rightfully belongs to him. 

It has been some time since he has been here. After driving the last race of the season in Abu Dhabi about three weeks ago and becoming vice world champion, he had stayed on site for a short time to soak up some sun and recover from the stress before flying back to Maranello with his team for a final briefing and to discuss the upcoming season. But even that only lasted a few days. He could have been back in Monaco by now. 

But he didn't want to. 

He knew exactly what was waiting for him here. A conversation he wanted to delay as long as possible. He didn't stay away from Monaco for so long for no reason, and he wondered if he hadn't returned too soon. But he can't, first, avoid this conversation, and second, stay away from his home. He loves it here too much for that. Just like other things he'd rather not think about right now. 

In the elevator, he puts his key in the designated hole and then presses the button with the number of the floor where his apartment is located. Just a few weeks ago, he thought that if he entered this building again, his heart would be beating wildly in his chest or his palms would be sweaty, but he is not even nervous. 

He knows what's waiting for him behind the elevator door. And he's ready to wrap things up.

Charles enters the apartment as he has thousands of times before. And just like hundreds of times before, he hears the sound of footsteps on the floor moving quickly in his direction. But never before has he felt this indifference to those footsteps. 

"Charles?" A woman comes out of the room where the living room is located and rushes toward him with her arms outstretched. When she reaches him, she wraps her arms around his torso to hold him close, but Charles puts his hands on her shoulders and gently but firmly pushes her away. "Charles, I'm so sorry. What I did is inexcusable and I will-"

"'You won't do anything,'" he interrupts her, wishing he could jump in the shower to wash her touch off him. "I'm just here to get some things. And to ask you to stop calling." He walks past her down the hall and into the room where his clothes are. 

"And I told you I would do everything I could to make this right between us," the woman says as she follows him. She places herself in the doorway with her arms crossed as he packs some of his clothes into a large gym bag. "I'm not ready to give up on us yet, Charles. I love you."

Charles can't stop the laughter that escapes him. After stuffing several pairs of socks into his side pocket, he turns to her and puts a hand on his hip. "You gave us up when you fucked that guy, Annika. And dare you to talk about love. You don't even know what that is."

As his phone vibrates in his pocket, he fishes it out. A message from Y/N. He doesn't even notice that a small smile creeps onto his face at that. 

But she does. "Who's that? Do you have a new one already?" 

Charles quickly types a reply and presses send before turning back to his clothes. "No," he says coldly. "And even if it were, it wouldn't be any of your business."

"Of course it's my business!" Annika almost screeches as she takes a few steps toward him. "I'm your girlfriend, after all!"

"You," Charles zips up the bag and stands in front of her, "are the absolute last person I want anything to do with." He pushes past her into the hallway, where he drops the bag on the floor to go into the bedroom, where some odds and ends are waiting for him to take as well.

Annika follows him like a dog follows its master. "And why do you let me stay here then?"

"Because I'm nice."

"You're not that nice. We both know that."

Charles looks at the picture frames sitting on the windowsill. Among them is a picture of him and his father when Charles was little and went karting. It's a fond memory that he certainly doesn't want to leave here with her. "I've changed."

In disbelief, Annika laughs. "Never. In the two years we were together, I asked you so many times for things that should have been natural for a relationship, but what came from you? Nothing." Now it's her turn to put her hands on her hips. "You're so focused on your job that you don't notice what's going on around you! If you had paid more attention to me, then-"

"Then what? Then you wouldn't have slept with that idiot? Then we would have been happy forever? Peace and happiness?" Charles takes some pictures out of the frames and carefully lays them on top of each other so they don't scratch. He would leave the frames here, after all, they were gifts from Annika. And he definitely doesn't want to keep them. "Grow up, Annika. You knew what you were getting into from the start."

"But not that I have to share you with the whole world." Slowly, she walks toward him and as she stands in front of him, she places her perfectly manicured hands against his chest. "You're all I've ever wanted, Charles. But you were never there. And even when you were there, your mind was always at work or somewhere else, but never with me."

She's not exactly wrong about that. The season had cost him quite a few nerves and he definitely hadn't been a good boyfriend, and maybe none of this would have happened if he had paid more attention to her. But that's definitely not a justification for what she did. Charles knows his worth. And that's exactly why he clasps Annika's wrists with his thumbs and forefingers to take her hands off him. 

"For not being a good boyfriend, I am truly sorry." He drops her hands. "But that's no reason to cheat. You and I are done." Charles leaves the bedroom and grabs his bag in the hallway before heading for the elevator door. 

"You're leaving? Just like that? Throwing away two years like they never happened?"

Again, his phone vibrates in his pocket. Another message from Y/N, making his heart skip a beat. He grins to himself and types a response that, under different circumstances, he might have thought twice about. But the quicker he replies, the quicker he's out of this place and back to you. 

"I'm not throwing it away, you already did." Charles puts his phone back in his pocket and presses the button to make the elevator come. "I'm letting you stay here because I know how bad I've been to you and that this year hasn't been so easy for you either. But if I need this place one day, for whatever reason, you're out of here. And I don't care where you end up. Find someplace to live. Move back in with your parents. But this," he points to the space between you, "is over. Forever."

Annika runs a hand through her hair, then crosses her arms in front of her chest. "Then I hope for your sake that you treat them better than you treat me."

The elevator door opens, but Charles doesn't move a bit. Instead, he looks at his ex-girlfriend, who stands before him with raised eyebrows. "Who do you mean?" 

"Do you think I'm that stupid? Or blind?" She points her finger at his pants pocket. "The person you just answered immediately."

"And what's so special about that?" he asks, confused. 

Annika takes a step toward him. "You always make everyone wait for you. You make your fans wait for good results, your friends wait for calls. You even make your mother wait for you, because I'm pretty sure she doesn't know you're home yet." Annika stops in front of him. "But whoever that is - that person has all your attention. She doesn't have to wait for you. Let me give you a hint along the way, Charlie."

"Don't call me that. And I don't need your help."

"And even if you did." Annika stretches her arm out, past him, so the elevator door doesn't close. "The fact that she doesn't have to wait for you is good. Don't make her wait for you, too. It's not fair to her. And not to you, either."

As he sits back in the Ferrari - the sports bag and pictures safely stowed in the trunk - he doesn't know what to do with himself. 

Charles made it clear to Annika that their relationship was over, and it had been overdue for at least a month. But what she said at the end stuck. 

He actually keeps everyone waiting, which is why he keeps blaming himself. He could have told his mother he was back in Monaco a long time ago, but somehow he didn't. He could have told you that he's not just Charles, but he didn't, and so he keeps you waiting for the truth that you know nothing about. 

Would you even want to be friends with him anymore if you knew who he was? Or would you want to be friends with him all the more? 

Never, he thinks to himself. That's not who you are. And he can say that even though you've only known each other for a short time. 

And even though you've only known each other for two days, you're all he can think about. He thinks about how you sat together on the grass and talked about his father. He thinks about how you cried at Cars. He thinks about how you flirted with him even though, in your opinion, it wasn't flirting (it was to him, of course; he wanted to know how to win you over for a reason). He thinks about how you told him about your ex-boyfriend and how he would love to beat him up. He thinks of you standing next to each other in the kitchen washing the dishes. 

He thinks of you standing in front of him dressed only in a towel. With bare shoulders and bare legs and that - if he would get the opportunity again - he would not hesitate to pull you into the bedroom and fuck you with his tongue, his fingers or his cock in such a way that he would ruin all other men for you.

Charles closes his eyes briefly to get the image of you on his mind, and then drives off. He would love to drive to the lookout and talk to his father about the situation, but somehow it doesn't feel right without you there. 

But he can't talk to you about it either, because it involves you, and although it would certainly be best, he doesn't have the heart to tell you the truth. Not because he doesn't trust you, but because he's afraid of losing you. 

He slaps his hand against his forehead. "Get a grip, damn it," he says to himself. The two of you haven't even touched, and he's thinking about how he'd take you on every surface in the small apartment. That's just not normal. 

And most of all, it's not fair. You confided in him about your ex-boyfriend because Charles is your friend. And your roommate. And that's what he needs to be to you. 

It wouldn't be fair for him to get into a relationship with you because one, you don't know who exactly he is, and two, he can never be what you need him to be. You need someone who is there for you, who takes time for you. Someone you can laugh and cry with. Not someone who is away most weeks of the year and can't even manage to call his own mother. 

You would always be waiting for him. And even though he doesn't want to agree with Annika, he has to. The whole thing is not fair to you. 

And so he deletes the last two messages he sent you, which you apparently haven't read yet, as he parks his Ferrari in an underground garage and walks the last few meters to your apartment. 

He decides that he is your friend. Only your friend. Because he has to be, and because he can't be anything else. Because you need a real friend, and not a relationship. 

Charles unlocks the apartment door and drops the gym bag to the floor beside him. 

"Charles?" Unlike Annika's voice, his heart starts to beat faster at yours and his palms start to sweat, so he quickly wipes them on his jeans. You come out of the bathroom dressed in dark gray jeans and a white blouse that accentuates your curves. As you stand in front of him, you turn once so he can check you out from all sides. In all his life, he's never seen anyone look so divine. "I'm sorry, I wasn't sure what to wear. I hope that's all right."

His smile is gentle and he hopes you don't notice how hard he has to swallow, and he would have loved to wrap you in his arms and never let you go. But his ex-girlfriend is still clinging to him, and before you touch each other properly for the first time, he wants her washed off.

It's not fair.

"It's okay," he says with a smile and goes to the fridge for a glass of orange juice. You stop by the apartment door next to the gym bag, but don't ask where the stuff is from. And for that, he's very grateful. "I'm just going to jump in the shower and then we can go, okay?"

He doesn't wait for your answer as he pulls new clothes out of his suitcase, walks into the bathroom, undresses, and stands under the hot stream of water. Even now, he keeps you waiting, which further solidifies his decision to keep your relationship purely platonic. While he's shampooing his hair, he makes a deal with himself that he'll do whatever it takes to make this friendship work. Even if that means suppressing his feelings. 

As he leaves the bathroom freshly showered and ready to go, you sit on the couch. He's looking at you, thinking about what Annika said, what he'd like to do with you, and all the things he could lose. And all of that just isn't fair. 

"I'm sorry you had to wait for me," he says softly, reaching for your car key that's on the dining room table. It feels better in his hand than the one from the Ferrari. So familiar. Like the key will fulfill everything he's ever wanted. 

"It's okay," you reply, getting up from the couch. You take a few steps toward him and smile at him, and his heart melts. "I'm fine with waiting."

the messages Charles deleted -

next part

[mafiaamongstus]

Character Information: Joris

Name: Joris

Rank: Commander

Designation: Teal

Gender: Nonbinary (She/They/It)

Affiliation: The Government?

Current Status: Stationed on the Mira Colony of Olia

Personality:

Even from a young age, Joris has been obsessed with space. Born during the prime era of Space Travel, everybody knew that Joris would be among the stars during their adult life, so it came at no surprise when they shipped out to Albion Military Base. And serving with the Government did little to dampen her interests. Had their skills not been what they are, they likely would have been written up several times for dismantling the meteor blasters and reassembling them. However, each time came with improvements, and no little boost to their ego. 

War is not without its marks though, and the war did change Joris. Although she still loves space, she finds it hard to be at rest. Others have noted she grows twitchy in large crowds, and some nights she can be found wandering about, staring at the stars. 

Story:

Joris was born an only child to an older couple. As a child, she was introduced to the space program through a special VR field trip, and quickly fell in love with the cosmos. Every year on her birthday, her parents would take them on a trip to the Stickmin Resort and Casino, allowing them to spend a week surrounded by that which she loved most.

As she grew, studying engineering and programming, Joris easily could have become a researcher, signing on with a company to study the stars. Instead however, they decided to join the military, requesting only that they be stationed offworld. 

Joris was initially stationed on Albion, developing weaponry for the soldiers to use. However, when the war started and it became all hands on deck, she was transferred to Polus. They performed constant adjustments to the blasters on-base; and they did everything she could to make sure the living quarters were as comfortable as possible.

And had things progressed as normal, perhaps in a few years when the war ended they would have retired from the military and gone into a more civilian career. Or she could have moved to the Stickmin Resort, joining its new Permanent Housing plan in exchange for helping keep the station running. 

But things ever so rarely go as we want.

And one night, General Joris was caught off base during a heavy snowfall. She was injured, weak, and dying. And that is how the Imposter found her. 

But there was something…different, about this Imposter. It…showed compassion for her. It tried to treat their wound, though it had definite struggles. It spoke with her, revealing that the Imposters were shifting into a new phase. One where they weren’t fighting anymore. Where they would integrate with society, hiding from them forever. 

It revealed that the Imposters were a war ravaged race. Torn apart by a race called the Spiree, the Imposters (or, as it called them, the Kinlings) had only known war for generations. Even after the Spiree shifted to peacekeeping instead of warmongering, the Kinglings lived in fear. They survived by replacing other beings and taking their place. It was pure survival. 

And during the war, the Kinlings had believed that the humans were just the same as the Spiree of old. 

But then a miraculous thing happened. One of the Kinlings had made it to Earth. And they had revealed to the rest of the species that the humans were just as afraid as the Kinlings were. They were done fighting. They were going to stop killing and replacing, and instead, they were going to craft new forms for themselves, integrating into humanity without replacing its members. They were going to hide, for how could they inflict the same pain they had received?

And Joris, dying in the snowbank, realized that she wanted this future that the Kinling spoke of. And although the creature could have been lying, they wanted to believe. They had always loved space and the stars and everything that the galaxy held. Was it so hard to believe that the aliens might want peace too?

In her final act, Joris granted the Kinling permission to replace her. Those last few hours she spent retelling the alien every bit of her life she could think of. They gave it the passwords to her devices, the codes it would need to know. She told them about her family, her friends, and her dreams.

And when she died, the Kinling buried Joris and swore to honor her memory, to live the life that Joris would have wanted. 

It was tested when it returned to base. Standard protocol for anyone who had been outside alone for an extended period of time. But thanks to the information given, she passed and was welcomed back inside. They tore themselves into Joris’s life work, studying and practicing until they could do anything Joris had once done, and beyond.

When the war ended, Joris was afraid to travel to Earth. All she had known was space and the stars and freedom. How could it go to a home where it had never known? Beside that, the real Joris’s parents had died years before it had replaced Joris, and without the structure of the military, Joris feared they might be discovered. 

And so, Joris remained in the military. Although it has considered several times trying to pitch colonization to the government it now serves, fear has held it back. 

Joris enjoyed the companionship of the friends of the real Joris, and was saddened to hear when several of them had died while on earth. As they were promoted to Commander, Joris decided to finally take that leap. They approached the higher ranks with their idea of colonizing Mira, the original home planet of the Kinlings (not that any of them knew that), now that the war had ended. Her request was approved, and she named the colony Olia, after the Commander that had taught her so much about humanity. 

Most of the Olia colony are also Kinlings, though there is a good number of humans present. The goal is to slowly introduce humanity to the idea that the Kinlings no longer which to fight them. Though perhaps…under a different name. After all, the Kinlings are far from the only alien species to possess shapeshifting abilities, and humanity never did call the Kinlings anything but Imposter. 

[katyahina]

So, this is what I understood about Midra Mansion and Frenzied Flame business (in chronological order)

It is more like a reference so I don't forget, just piecing the story together since I am sure I found all helpful items yet! Add please if there is something else!

1) So, it started with how for one reason or another, Midra and people in this place attracted paranoia (?) of the hornsent and were done dirty by inquisitors! Not specified whether they actually done something bad or not!

The entrance in this location is guarded by Elder Inquisitor Jori, that also summons ungodly amount of fellow clerics what in the actual Deacons of the Deep was that fdhfdhs

^ This item is dropped by an NPC Maddening Hand, and this IS my reason to think that rather than everyone here being punished for potentially messing with Frenzied Flame, they were accused and hunted for something else and affiliation with FF came because of that resentment!

^ This dialogue perplexed me at first, as I initially thought it related to inquisitors coming in the Manse after the FF events, but by now I concluded it more likely related to the era where they were hunted as heretics for no particular reason! Because people of the Manse should have known what in another case:

2) The contact with Frienzied Flame happened and effected the people and the place in general. Like I said before, Frenzied Flame started to manifest upon yearning of Midra/his people for revenge. He might have even been directly contacted by the Three Fingers in a similar manner as how Marika was contacted by the Two Fingers for her situation, as suggested by an item found in this map:

Besides, the whole Manse was destroyed but especially the books, and we will get to it later but evidently it was done to hide the knowledge about Frenzied Flame accumulated:

3) A child of Midra and Nanaya likely was lost to a failed attempt of becoming Lord of Frenzied Flame! Nanaya is depicted holding her hand on her belly on the portrait, perhaps being pregnant, and the torch you pick from her corpse is said to be gently 'cradled' by her! I need to see Japanese script to confirm or deny how accurate the word 'cradling' is here since it does have connotation with caring for the baby, so put a pin on it! However, feeling of affection from her alone might make this nitpick less relevant.

These 'evidences' that it was their child do not look very strong, I admit this much, as well as calling it 'distant' land is odd. I think it still works; for example, distant from the standpoint of the world map in general since it is very well hidden!

^ We pick this item from the corpse of Nanaya herself. Her eyes are obscured on the portrait and yet that looks to be an artistic decision. Her corpse, on the other hand, has eyes covered with bandages! We can assume that she went blind from spending too much time holding onto this "torch", as well as that prolonged exposure to FF was what killed her in the end. Why cling onto this spinal column so much, if not because it belonged to someone dear for her?

I suppose it is up to interpretation whether Nanaya approved of the idea of the Lord of the Frenzied Flame as their kid and only lost courage when the plan failed and availed them nothing, or she didn't know Midra would let their son of all people to go through such a risk and father and son acted behind her back (maybe not they alone), or she straight up disapproved of Frenzied Flame moods and called inquisitors for """help""" herself to at the very least isolate the madness! So, speaking of:

4) Inquisitors learn about Frenzied Flame business here, those who were helping with the Frenzied Flame meddling were executed, Nanaya is spared for either reason.

I didn't understand it instantly, but yes, the implication of the neat row of beheaded guys right at the entrance with their wrists tied is that they were executed:

The glowing 'stick' in their necks does give me an impression of their barbs, however they do not stick out at the sides?

So, the Hornsent inquisitors did this to him, but as we learn from Midra no longer being able to take it and pulling the barb out of himself this is not a fact that they've done it specifically to seal the Frenzied Flame! Because why would they leave him like this despite the risk that he could choose to pull the barb out one day? They might not have known that Midra caught Frenzied Flame to this extent and just believed in giving specific form of punishment to the leader of the dangerous people! ...right?

^ Wrong! @val-of-the-north shared this icon for an item that exists in the game files but was not implemented in the end, on which Midra's had both has the same eye as Tarnished has after being grasped by the Three Fingers and has obvious trace of their grab not unlike Vyke's armour! This gives me a feeling that the Inquisitors had enough information to conclude something wasn't right. So, maybe they decied that they killed him and were not aware that FF would not let him die now?

OR MAYBE Nanaya is the key here! If she was fully affiliated with Midra and servants on FF plot, why she never got executed? She might have successfully lied to them about not having been aware to still seize some control, or she genuinely disapproved of all this and wanted it to stop. Thus, in case if the inquisitors knew of Midra's situation, maybe they also trusted her to control him from breaking free.

^ This suggests that Nanaya knew of what danger he held within prior the inquisitors did their thing! Since he was also willingly holding onto her demand for such a long time, maybe he himself realised the ramifications by then, especially if their son was lost like this. This gives me an impression that they both agreed it all went too far and decided to call for "help", whether Nanaya was a part of the plan all along too or simply was able to collect herself when Midra confessed her everything, dragging their son into it included, and understood they had bigger problem to worry about now!

^ This makes me feel like "weakness" it refers to was actually his reluctance and fear upon realising what he messed with, rather than actual failure! I don't know about you guys, but I found him a pretty functional Lord of Frenzied Flame during the battle 🤔 But if he contracted the 'Lord', how his head was still in place when inquisitors arrived for his ass? So likely he was able to keep it in before, to "endure" like Nanaya said earlier, when NOT "failing" would entail "understanding" and embracing the motivations and the meaning of FF. (Melina looks with a massive judgement)

However, pulling out that barb also entailed succumbing to the Frenzied Flame, which now made him no longer "fail" at it.

5) Inquisitors remain to patrol the perma-damaged land getting afflicted with FF themselves so no curious idiots wander here, Nanaya and other spared (?) people die from old age.

(sorry for phone picture, I forgot to copy this one to USB fhdhdsf) Even if Lord of Frenzied Flame was prevented, the impact of the contact with the Three Fingers (?) was permanent now. There was no way to destroy it (how do you destroy THE desctruction?), only keep it secluded.

^ I mentioned how Nanaya oddly was spared, but what about this person? Either not she alone and this guy might have died from old age or something, OR these are the words from the time before inquisitors arrived here. Because, again, we have evidence that Midra and Nanaya knew he contracted Frenzied Flame even before that, from the description of his remembrance!

^ This, all things considered, refers to the time the Hornsent arrived here to execute, punish and set up the patrol, as they discovered what happened!

__________________

So, yeah.. It is a really messed up story. I have enough pointers towards how the family, ironically, had to accept "help" from THE very folks who harassed them to the point of events that attracted the Frenzied Flame to begin with! Even if they are probably/likely descendants or a branch-off from the hornsent that originally were hunting them as heretics. Like realising that no amount of torture and mistreatment of their people must doom the whole world to burn, yet it would happen if Frenzied Flame broke loose from here.

[agirlisnoonesdoppelganger]

I'm going to actually poke the bear today by saying how I really feel about Sansa and Arya's relationship. That is to say, I think it's a bad relationship, and I think that the main issue is how Sansa treats Arya. Sansa's behavior absolutely crosses a line, and she 100% should be apologizing for it.

For reference, I have an older sister, we are very close now, but we weren't always. One time, she choked me out for wearing her socks outside, and I still think that Sansa's behavior is over the line. The reason that my sister and I are able to have a genuinely close relationship is because the choking out wasn't a pattern of behavior on her part. This was not something she'd done before, not something she did again, and it happened under abnormal circumstances. We had a period of a few years where we generally didn't get a long and fought a lot, but even then, we would still willingly spend time together, playing games or watching movies, sometimes because we didn't actually completely dislike each other.

This is patently untrue for Sansa and Arya. Sansa does not like Arya the way she is and actively wants her to change. She looks down on the activities Arya enjoys, like horse riding, and makes no attempt to connect with Arya on that level. We have plenty of evidence that Arya feels insecure as a result of things Sansa has said or allowed her friends to say. AGOT has quotes like "Jeyne used to call her Arya Horseface and neigh whenever she came near. It hurt that the one thing Arya could do better than her sister was ride a horse," and "She went to the window seat and sat there, sniffling, hating them all, and herself most of all. It was all her fault, everything bad that had happened. Sansa said so, and Jeyne, too," and "'Lyanna was beautiful,' Arya said, startled. Everybody said so. It was not a thing that was ever said of Arya," and somehow people are unwilling to see how deeply Sansa's actions affected her. This is not how someone would act if their sibling called them ugly once or twice. These are the thoughts of someone is has been thoroughly berated by their sibling their entire life to the point of genuinely believing the horrible things said about them.

I feel the need to cover some potential counterarguments before they get brought up, so here we go. First, I know Sansa is only 11 years old when the books start. Contrary to what some of you believe, being 11 doesn't magically absolve of any wrong you've ever done. Believe it or not, teaching children when they've messed up and having them apologize when they've hurt someone is how they learn to be good, kind adults who take responsibility for their actions. 11 is absolutely old enough to know when you're being mean and what is an acceptable way to treat someone. The only characters who can use the "they're a child" excuse are toddlers and babies, who actually might not know better. If you use this excuse, you are severely underestimating the intelligence of children. This also completely ignores that there are several other children in ASOIAF who do not treat other people the way Sansa treats Arya, some of whom are younger than Sansa.

Second, I know there's going to be some people insisting that both of them have done bad things to the other, but I'm going to be honest, Arya mostly seems to be reacting to the way Sansa treats her. The most common example I see brought up is Arya throwing an orange at Sansa, so I'm going to quote the scene with the additional context here:

“Arya screwed up her face in a scowl. 'Jaime Lannister murdered Jory and Heward and Wyl, and the Hound murdered Mycah. Somebody should have beheaded them.' 'It’s not the same,' Sansa said. 'The Hound is Joffrey’s sworn shield. Your butcher’s boy attacked the prince.' 'Liar,' Arya said. Her hand clenched the blood orange so hard that red juice oozed between her fingers. 'Go ahead, call me all the names you want,' Sansa said airily. 'You won’t dare when I’m married to Joffrey. You’ll have to bow to me and call me Your Grace.' She shrieked as Arya flung the orange across the table. It caught her in the middle of the forehead with a wet squish and plopped down into her lap. 'You have juice on your face, Your Grace,' Arya said. It was running down her nose and stinging her eyes. Sansa wiped it away with a napkin. When she saw what the fruit in her lap had done to her beautiful ivory silk dress, she shrieked again. 'You’re horrible,” she screamed at her sister. 'They should have killed you instead of Lady!' Septa Mordane came lurching to her feet. 'Your lord father will hear of this! Go to your chambers, at once. At once!' 'Me too?' Tears welled in Sansa’s eyes. 'That’s not fair.'" (A Game of Thrones)

Now, without context, the middle bit where Sansa is lording over Arya and then Arya throws the orange at her could maybe be construed as "normal" sibling behavior. However, we have more context, and this conversation frankly doesn't do Sansa any favors. Arya only gets upset because Sansa is extremely dismissive of the death of her friend, presumably because he was a commoner and therefore not very important in Sansa's eyes. Keep in mind that this Mycah didn't just die; he was brutally murdered with his body so destroyed that his father didn't even know what it was at first. Considering that the Joffrey-Arya-Micah confrontation scene is told from Sansa's perspective, we can assume that Sansa knows full well that Mycah didn't attack Joffrey. Arya is right that she's lying. Sansa response to getting hit with an orange is to tell her sister that she wishes she had been executed instead of Lady, which is an insanely cruel thing to say. I feel like some of you don't realize that there's a difference between wishing someone didn't exist or wishing that you didn't have a sibling and straight up wishing for them to have capitol punishment enacted on them. Bear in mind, saying "I wish you'd never been born," or "I wish I didn't have a sister" are also mean things to say. I also don't think you should be saying that to your sibling on a regular basis, but saying something like that in the heat of the moment and realizing you were wrong later happens. The thing is, Sansa isn't sorry and doesn't seem to realize she's done anything wrong. She insists it's not fair when Septa Mordane sends both of them away and later in the chapter, immediately blames everything on Arya when they're brought to their father. Arya even apologizes without prompting from Ned, but it doesn't occur to Sansa at all despite, again, wishing death upon her sister.

I'm sorry, but if my sister straight up told me it was fine that no one was being punished for the blatant murder of my friend because he was poor and "attacked" some important, well-to-do person, I would do way more than throw an orange at her. Now, my sister would never do that because she's not classist, and she actually likes me. And even when our relationship was at its worst and even if it was unprovoked, I cannot imagine my sister ever telling me she wished that I would be killed because I threw food at her and stained her outfit. Also, as a note about the Lady incident, I don't know how anyone in Sansa's position could come out of that and eventually decide that the primary, and perhaps only, person responsible was their sibling unless they already genuinely disliked their sibling.

Sansa fundamentally does not like Arya and does not respect the things that Arya enjoys which is a huge reason why I don't think that they have a regular sibling dynamic. Never mind that Sansa's disdain is reinforced by both societal norms and people like Septa Mordane and her mother. Sansa would have an immensely difficult time re-evaluating her perspective because no one has ever challenged it. Catelyn and the septa are constantly saying that Arya should be more like Sansa, so Sansa continues to believe this. The only authority figure who seems to push back even a little is Ned, and Sansa just gets irritated with him for letting Arya "get away" with stuff.

I think a lot of people are missing that context. My sister and I said and did a lot of mean things to each other, but at the end of the day, we still had the ability to get along. We would pretend our Barbies were superheroes, or make parody films with stuffed animals, or pretend to be spies for George Washington. We still respected each other even when we acted like we hated each other. I could brush off a lot of what she said because I knew she'd still be happy to play with me later. We understood when we had gone too far and apologized because for the most part, we didn't actually want to hurt each other. Sansa does not feel this way about Arya. At some point in AGOT, she won't even speak to Arya without being forced. She would never willingly choose to spend time with Arya because she can't even begin to consider that what Arya does might be enjoyable to someone. Sansa has no respect for Arya and thinks that she deserves to be treated poorly.

[geographer746]

Let's face it honestly...Grugalorazalar is an asshole, a scum, a beast, a fucking bastard and I can go on for so long, well, in general, a very unpleasant person...but the ass🫦🫦🫦

+my favorites (and a jerk)

(When the second volume is released in full, I will supplement them and do such a thing with Dardondakalam (I hope it will appear again) Julit and Joris and separately with Yumalia)

I'm ready to kiss your hands😙🤲 @cathianemelian❤️❤️❤️

[geekgirles]

The Doll and the Dragon

Chapter 15: Pulling at Strings

Word Count: 27,778

Read on AO3

Previous/Next

Chapter Summary: "Follow Evangelyne during her stay at Oma Island as she navigates a new culture, the eccentric leaders of the Eliatropes, and her new role as a Divine Doll's bodyguard and lady-in-waiting. And yet, none of that is anywhere near as staggering as watching two prominent figures dance around each other like a pair of awkward teens… May Cra have mercy on her soul."

In the short few days since Evangelyne arrived at Oma Island—barely a week, really—, her whole world had been turned upside down. In a matter of days, she began to question everything she thought she knew. 

When the Eliatropes arrived, she had been wary, like everyone. A whole different race with no relation to the Twelvian pantheon that descended from the stars in a vehicle the size of a mountain with the hopes of settling down on their world? Yeah, that had definitely been sketchy. Even she was simply cautious, unlike Prince Armand and his frequent outraged temper tantrums at the mere idea of sharing their home with a bunch of outsiders. 

Oh, she still winced whenever she remembered the look on his face when the Eliatrope leaders intruded upon that one Council Meeting. For a moment there, she wondered if they had commented on his bad breath. 

But King Oakheart, always the more level-headed of the Sheran Sharms, remained hopeful. At first, he was as careful as she was, but the Cra knew him well enough to identify that intrigued glimmer in his eyes whenever the idea of coexisting with the portal-making race was brought up. 

He wasn’t entirely opposed to it. 

But everything changed when Master Joris surprised them all by dropping a major Rogue bomb: Sadida had created an eleventh Divine Doll and entrusted her to the Eliatropes. 

Armand had to pick up his dropped jaw from the floor before he could blow a fuse at that one. For once, his father hadn’t been much better. True, he remained as composed as ever, and he was definitely more shocked than angry, but he was just as eager to attend the banquet at Bonta held in her honour and finally meet the famed Sadida demigoddess. 

Luckily for all parties involved, the Eliatrope Council and the Divine Doll, whom Master Joris revealed was called Lady Amalia, agreed to meet the world leaders and officially introduce the gods’ latest miracle to them. While Evangelyne knew better than to expect that to put an end to their troubles for good—she had enough experience dealing with Prince Armand and his wife to know a clash of egos would soon ensue—, she had to admit that more ‘relaxed’ diplomatic meeting had really helped ease up the tensions. 

An arrow shot and a relieved Cra, as the saying went. 

The blonde had to resist the urge to snicker. And to think, back then she actually bumped into Lady Amalia, not knowing both the Sadida Royal Family and Cra herself would ask her to act as her bodyguard in the future…

But alas, that is exactly what happened. And just like that, Evangelyne found herself as bewildered as she did in that moment. 

When she had first accepted her mission, she had resigned herself to spending an unspecified amount of time living in some sort of make-shift campsite or shelter while the Eliatropes worked on building their new civilisation. Part of her had even been looking forward to it, as it reminded her of her days as a cadet, bunking up with other soldiers her age at the Cra training grounds stationed in the outskirts of the Sadida Kingdom. Roughing it up inside a crusty old cabin made of creaky wood and with only a ratty old blanket to cover herself wasn’t so bad so long as she didn’t have Cleo as her roommate. 

Her sister snored like a Bwork. 

So imagine her surprise when the recall potion she gulped down actually delivered her straight into a majestic palace, completely refurbished and filled with servants, and that could perfectly pass up as having been built generations ago. She almost dropped her bow from shock. 

That didn’t come to pass, thankfully. Although King Yugo apologised, because, given the unexpected nature of her stay with them, they had yet to prepare a room for her to inhabit. Just as she was about to tell him there was no need to worry, Lady Amalia jumped in and offered her room until she had living quarters of her own. The poor Cra didn’t have the heart to tell her it would be inappropriate for a mere lady-in-waiting to simply intrude upon her mistress’ personal space like that, even if she also doubled as her body-guard, more so when she had that child-like glint in her eyes. Thankfully, she didn’t have to. 

The Eliatrope King assured the Divine Doll that it wouldn’t take the palace staff too long to prepare Evangelyne’s chamber either way. They just had to locate her near the doll’s own room and change the bed sheets, and replenish the room with some toiletries the Cra was sure to need, like clean towels. 

An explanation so inane, so trivial, and yet the monarch delivered it with such tenderness in his voice the Cra couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow as her green eyes narrowed in on them both in curiosity. 

She blinked them open in surprise when Lady Amalia insisted she should at least wait for the arrangements to be finished in her room, rather than just wait outside like she was standing guard over her own quarters. Evangelyne didn’t have the chance to voice a protest, for King Yugo actually agreed with the doll’s assessment. So, holding back a resigned sigh, the blonde lady-in-waiting was left with no choice but to thank her mistress for her generosity and to follow her into her room. 

At the sight of Lady Amalia’s room, she did drop her bow. 

Should she have seen it coming? Oh, from a mile away. Even without her people’s enhanced senses. Was she left gaping at the veritable jungle crawling and sprawling within those four walls and beyond the demigoddess’ balcony nonetheless? Like a fish. 

She suddenly thanked Cra she wouldn’t have to sleep there that night. Beautiful as it all was, especially when she caught sight of the murals painted all over the walls that the vines seemed to have respectfully steered away from, she highly doubted she’d be able to find much comfort in the doll’s makeshift bed. She could only wince when she asked Lady Amalia if she didn’t have a regular one and she just shrugged, explaining she smashed it into smithereens shortly after arriving to make room for the gigantic flower she slept in. 

It was almost a blessing when someone rapped at the door and a member of the staff, whom Lady Amalia cheerfully greeted as Serviette, informed the Cra that her new room was just across the hall. 

With a respectful nod the doll’s way, Evangelyne bid her good night and let herself be led towards the space she would be occupying in the foreseeable future. Under any other circumstances, she knew, the meticulous woman would have taken her sweet time to inspect it, but she had been so tired from the day’s events, and her bed was so fluffy and comfortable, that she was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. 

Yes, these last few days on Oma Island had taken some getting used to, especially when it all contrasted so starkly with her own preconceived ideas about them. Even Lady Amalia turned out to be quite different from how she’d first imagined her. While she still knew how to carry herself around with an air of regality and refinement befitting of her station, most of the time, the Divine Doll was as laid-back and approachable as any other Sadida Evangelyne had ever met. 

Having said that, her temper, while not constantly flaring like Armand’s, was still something to be feared. 

And yet, all those discoveries paled in comparison to finally getting to meet the infamous Eliatrope Council. 

The first shock had to be finding out they actually called themselves ‘the Council of Six’. 

It had been Lady Mina, the only other Eliatrope woman aside from Lady Nora, who gently corrected her. The morning after her arrival, King Yugo, with Master Adamaï and Lady Amalia in tow—strange; normally, she was an early riser. She would have to ask the doll at what time she usually woke up to be ready from then on—, had knocked on her door and expressed their desire for her to meet the remaining members of the Council. Naturally, she agreed, only for Lady Mina, a striking silver-haired woman clad in a cyan dress, to let her know they were known as the Council of Six amongst themselves when she addressed them all as the ‘Eliatrope Council’ upon greeting them.

It was too soon to pass judgement on Lady Mina, for she had barely seen her since, but Evangelyne had to admit she felt a certain kinship with her. She wasn’t sure how to put it, but the silver-haired woman exuded an air of sophistication and level-headedness seldom seen outside of the Cra Citadel. The bodyguard was used to dealing with the laid-back yet exuberant Sadida, or even with their stern and temperamental prince, so it was quite refreshing meeting someone more… Well, more like her. 

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes fondly. Even if she wouldn’t change it for the world, sometimes it was more than a little frustrating to be the only rational adult when dealing with a certain someone.

Perhaps even more shocking, even if it actually made perfect sense, was finding out that Lady Mina’s composed and diplomatic nature was a direct result of her role as conflict mediator within their society. A role she shared with her dragon twin, Master Phaeris. The cyan dragon himself wasn’t much different than how he presented himself at the party, though he oddly seemed even calmer in the presence of his twin. As if she was his anchor. Other than that, the two of them were practically one in personality, except for the fact that Lady Mina was more approachable while Master Phaeris was gruffer. 

The next ones to introduce themselves had been Masters Chibi and Grougaloragran, the brilliant minds behind the design and construction of the palace, as well as the Eliatropes’ greatest inventors. 

They were almost the opposite from Lady Mina and Master Phaeris, in the sense that, whereas the former were practically one and the same, the inventors couldn’t be any more different from each other. Master Chibi was bombastic, jovial, and extroverted, while Master Grougaloragran was reserved, quiet, and stern. Although, it seemed that under the right circumstances, both of them knew how to temper their twin’s worst tendencies. And the two of them were definitely hot-blooded… Especially when it came to interior design.

Evangelyne had been on dozens of missions, both as a trainee and the Sheran Sharms’ official bodyguard. She’d faced dangers that had sent stronger warriors running down the hills without so much as flinching. And yet, nothing ever felt half as intimidating as those two grilling her over possible interior design choices for her room the second she expressed her admiration for the palace architecture. 

It was almost a relief when Master Qilby stepped forward, cutting their frenzied spiel short, and properly introduced both himself and his dragon sister, Lady Shinonomé. 

Almost. 

Evangelyne hadn’t had the chance to speak to the spectacled-wearing Eliatrope during his stay at the Sadida Kingdom, not in small part due to his preference for watching from the sidelines over actual human interaction. But she wasn’t stupid. She was a Cra, for crying out loud! Good judgement and sharp eyes were literally her goddess’ domain. And one would have to be blinder than a skrot to not notice how something seemed… off about Master Qilby. 

He was perfectly polite and courteous at all times, and yet, it all felt almost fabricated, somehow? Like a well rehearsed role in a theatre production, rather than a genuine attempt at connecting with new people. 

Lady Shinonomé was harder to pinpoint. Unlike her brother, her aura was far more approachable, kinder. She seemed to always keep an eye out for her brother, reeling his worst tendencies back in with only a pointedly raised eyebrow or a well-timed nudge to his side. It was like watching a Bow Wow being kept on a tight leash by its master. The Cra could tell she was the eldest sister right away, probably of the entire Council, because she recognised herself in her actions and demeanour. 

Cra knew Cleo could be a handful, even now that she was an adult!

Everything about the red dragoness seemed genuine enough, welcoming, even. And yet… It all felt far too perfect, like her every reaction, her every word, her every move, were scripted and she executed it all flawlessly. But as with every play, it was enough to keep the suspension of disbelief going, but not enough to make you forget you were watching a performance—it wasn’t real. 

Her sixth sense tingling in slight apprehension, Evangelyne resolved to keep an eye out for them. Just in case. 

Said apprehension ebbed away slightly when Lady Nora took the time to introduce herself next, only for it to come back at full force when her twin, Master Efrim, jerked his chin at her in the form of a greeting from his position in the throne room. Not for the first time, Evangelyne met his venomous glare with a determined one of her own. 

The funny thing was, she was sure that, under any other circumstances, she would have felt more at ease around the periwinkle dragon than his pink-eyed twin. Not like there was anything inherently wrong with Lady Nora, other than the fact that she seemed to be an incorrigible flirt, much to her family’s exasperation and Lady Amalia’s amusement. It was just that she was a wild child—feisty, unpredictable, and impish; just like her sister. Evangelyne… usually had a hard time dealing with people that reminded her of her sister. 

But, no. This time around, fate had completely different plans for her. Because, this time, the thorn in her side wasn’t going to be the pink version of Cleo, but the grouchy dragon who had spent all his time stuffing his face at the refreshment table like some moody teenager at a family gathering. 

When the Cra first saw him at the throne room, while he certainly didn’t look enthused to be there, she just assumed he simply was more stoic than his siblings, not wanting to give anything away. And it didn’t really matter, anyway, since her priority was getting acquainted with Lady Amalia after it was finally revealed that she would be serving her. 

But all that changed when her pleasant conversation with the Divine Doll had been interrupted by the familiar feeling of her hair standing on edge. Her ears twitched in recognition; someone was watching them. It took her no time at all to do a quick swipe of the ballroom with her eyes, only for her green depths to widen when they locked with the dragon’s cold, sapphire ones. 

Oh, there was no mistaking now. He didn’t want her in their territory, and he was going to let her know. 

The Cra had to resist the urge to scoff derisively even now. Even though she’d be a fool to look down on what an Eliatrope dragon could do, this wasn’t her first wrestling competition at the Trool Fair. After dealing with Armand’s ego for years, and then, with the combined effort of his and his wife’s attitude, she was an expert at putting people in their place without causing a scene. And that is exactly what she did with Master Efrim. 

She glared back at him, standing her ground and making it clear she would not be cowed into submission, her chin held up high. A smirk of satisfaction curled at the corner of her lips when the dragon looked away first, clearly ashamed. 

Normally, Evangelyne would have left it at that and just made sure to keep her guard up around the dragon in case he tried anything in the future. But her stomach churned and her ears stood in alarm when Master Efrim averted his eyes from her, and redirected his glare at Lady Amalia. 

The doll’s lady-in-waiting had to suppress every protective instinct that had been instilled in her since her training days to keep herself from drawing her bow, ready to take action and protect her ward if need be. Something wasn’t right. Lady Amalia was a literal godsend; the key to the Eliatropes becoming accepted amongst Twelvian society. Why would Master Efrim regard her with so much scorn, hatred and resentment burning in his eyes?

And how was it possible that Lady Amalia, who had effectively taken Princess Aurora down a peg or two without even raising her voice, and who seemed to be perfectly at ease with the rest of the Council, tried to resolutely avoid his gaze?

Something unpleasant yet familiar stirred in Evangelyne’s chest—dread. There was something going on between those two, something that could very well put the doll’s life at risk. Trepidation coursing through her veins, the Cra had to remind herself to honour her race and be calm and rational about this. Even if she had long learned her instinct was seldom wrong, she was still a newcomer, an outsider; she couldn’t afford to stir up drama without being completely sure there was something to report in the first place. More so if she didn’t have any evidence. So, for the time being, she’d just remain close to Lady Amalia, and she would keep an even closer eye on Master Efrim. 

Just as her carefully crafted mask of stoicism was about to break the more her mind scrambled to formulate a plan, the next pair of twins introducing themselves to her prevented her from blowing her cover already. The fact that she had a legitimate reason to be surprised at their introduction beyond the fact that she had been broken out of a trance also helped hide how she hadn’t been paying attention. 

Because, Cra above, if the Eliatrope and dragon siblings weren’t living proof that siblings tended to be as different as they were similar, if not more so. And she thought Cleo and herself were like night and day!

Masters Glip and Baltazar had taken advantage of their siblings hogging all the attention to go around the throne room until they were right in front of their latest guest completely undetected. Once she got over her initial shock, the Cra cursed herself and her inattentiveness. Had she been paying attention, her acute sense of hearing would have picked up on their—surprisingly stealthy—steps much sooner. Now, all she could do was gape. 

If Masters Chibi and Grougaloragran were opposites in personality—to be fair, so were Lady Nora and Master Efrim, given she was unhinged but delightful and he was a complete Iop-head—, Masters Glip and Baltazar were the complete opposite in appearance. Whereas Master Baltazar was the physically biggest and most imposing dragon in the room, Master Glip was the shortest Eliatrope by far; he only reached a little below her hips. It was also quite ironic, the way the Eliatrope twin carried around a cane bigger than he was despite looking to be in his thirties when his dragon twin could pass up as everyone’s grandfather. The white, bushy beard and eyebrows really didn’t help. 

They also differed from the rest of their siblings in the sense that, in every other set, it seemed like the dragon twin was the most composed and sternest of the two, with the Eliatrope twin being much more open and extroverted, if a little eccentric. With these two, it was the other way around. Master Glip reminded Evangelyne of one of her old teachers back when she was a cadet, always itching to hand out detention at the smallest infraction. Master Baltazar, on the other hand, didn’t just look like he could be a grandfather, he was just as kind and warm, too. 

Evangelyne was still trying to process her own thoughts when Master Baltazar saying, “We’re looking forward to seeing more of you soon” left her reeling. 

Why did that sound kind of ominous? It wasn’t your standard ‘I’ll see you around’ phrase either. There was a clear intent in those words, some sort of hidden meaning she couldn’t quite grasp. 

Before she had the time to properly linger in those thoughts, however, it was Master Adamaï who reached out to her to properly introduce himself next. 

Evangelyne had to admit, she’d misjudged him. 

Kinda. 

Back in the Sadida Kingdom, she’d pegged him as the least approachable between himself and King Yugo, and, in a way, she was right. Whereas the Eliatrope King was immediately welcoming and warm, it took a little more to get there for Master Adamaï. 

His Majesty was perfectly courteous and polite in the presence of other royals, but he still maintained an easygoing nature and he clearly didn’t have any qualms about breaking protocol or challenging social norms if need be—as she still vividly remembered his actions back in Bonta. Master Adamaï, on the other hand, had remained the epitome of calm, stoicism, and courtesy both in Bonta and the Sadida Kingdom. He didn’t speak unless spoken to and he was apparently extremely conscious of power dynamics and how to act in the presence of them. 

However, all that changed as soon as he was back home, surrounded by his friends and family. While his serious demeanour didn’t quite go away, the blue-and-white dragon was clearly in his element, comfortable enough to harmlessly joke around. It had honestly taken the blonde aback when he nonchalantly offered her his condolences for having to put up with his brother on a daily basis from now on. 

Her façace cracked completely at the offended squawk the Eliatrope King let out at his brother’s jab, a very unlady-like snort escaping her. Of course, as soon as she realised her lapse in judgement, she apologised profusely for her lack of decorum, no matter how many times the Eliatrope leaders assured her it was perfectly fine. 

She perked up in surprise at the feeling of a hand on her shoulder. When she turned her head, she found a giggling Lady Amalia staring back at her in sympathy. According to her, it was perfectly normal for those two to exchange barbs. She’d get used to it for sure, but it never really ceased to be amusing to see them squabble like children instead of acting like the dignified leaders they were supposed to be. 

Honestly, it reminded her of the snarking matches a certain someone would have with his Shushu. Only the Shushu tended to win each round since his opponent didn’t even understand sarcasm most of the time, let alone know how to use it. 

She made the mistake of letting out an exasperated sigh at the memory. She immediately tensed up when she found all eyes staring back at her worriedly. It took her even less time to feel bad over her slip-up when King Yugo and Master Adamaï looked more than a little sheepish over, no doubt, thinking they were bothering her with their antics. And she only felt worse when His Majesty promised, with a voice so genuine she would have believed anything he said even if she knew it was a blatant lie, that they were usually much more serious and composed than that, especially when it came to their people. 

All Evangelyne could do in return was offer a weak smile and quietly assure him there was no doubt in her mind of that. 

All in all, the Eliatrope Counc—erhm—the Council of Six were nothing like she expected them to be. It was too soon to tell if that was a good thing, or a bad thing. 

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

As Lady Amalia’s bodyguard and lady-in-waiting, her job was to remain close to the Divine Doll and assist her however she could at all times. A job she took to dutifully and like a duck to water. If only because the doll followed a simple yet mentally and physically stimulating routine. 

Lady Amalia’s days were filled with roaming around the castle, talking to whatever servant or guard she met on the way, tending to her garden, and, the Cra was surprised to discover, going to the village to train under Master Glip’s tutelage. Every other part of her day, the doll could fill up however she pleased. 

Sometimes, she visited Masters Chibi and Grougaloragran’s workshop—which was too devoid of windows for the blonde’s liking—to inquire about their latest inventions, and they happily indulged her curiosity. Evangelyne still didn’t understand why the Sadida Doll kept flashing them warning glares and bringing up the possibility of a fire breaking out in the room, and she had a feeling she didn’t want to know. Although she still found herself agreeing with the doll at the mere thought of a certain someone entering the lab and fooling with all the dangerous tools and machines there. She pinched her brow in frustration; a fire would be the last of their problems then…

Other times, she went down the village just to walk around and mingle with the Eliatropes. Evangelyne had to pick up her jaw from the floor the first time she accompanied her. Even the tip of her ears flushed pink at the weird looks the locals were giving her for her reaction. 

In retrospect, she should have seen it coming. 

She honestly had no reason to act so surprised at the sight of an entire community fully settled in, and with a completely functioning civilisation to boot, when she had been living in a palace that looked like it was centuries old instead of just a few months old. 

But she did not see it coming. So the Cra was left with no choice but to fight her very intense desire to just crane her neck up and stare at everything in awe when she was supposed to be watching over her ward. She almost scoffed at herself, a mirthless chuckle tumbling out of her lips. If there’d been any Sram or Rogue on Oma Island after the Divine Doll, they would have been able to snatch her up right under her nose. 

Luckily for her, Lady Amalia took notice of her wandering eye. 

Much to the blonde’s embarrassment, she snickered. “Oh, don’t worry, Evangelyne.” She waved her off. “I know how you feel! The first time Yugo brought me here, my mind was just as blown.”

“Forgive me, my Lady. I’m just… surprised.” She finally settled after a brief pause to gather her thoughts. “The Eliatropes have been on the World on Twelve for less than a year, and already their civilisation has flourished as much as those of races who have been here since the beginning of time!”

“Perhaps even moreso…” She quietly added to herself, her keen eye zooming in on the various portals floating overhead and the glowing plants they seemed to be using to communicate. 

“You have Chibi and Grougal to thank for that.” The doll pointed out without missing a beat. “Not only are they geniuses; they’re fast workers too.”

Understatement of the century. 

Her bright green eyes, dulled as she pursed her lips in bemusement, lit up again when Lady Amalia continued on, “To be fair, though, all Eliatropes are fast workers. As soon as Chibi and Grougal came up with the blueprints, every single Eliatrope who could help got to work. And, well, the results speak for themselves.” She gestured at the stone buildings standing tall and proud all around them. 

Evangelyne nodded, unable to refute her. 

“I know this can all be a little overwhelming, especially if you’re new.” The Divine Doll said, her voice softening as she looked at her bodyguard with understanding in her eyes. Just then, her tender smile grew so wide and ecstatic Evangelyne feared it would literally split her face in two. “But there’s nothing like going on a tour to really familiarise yourself with the place!”

Before the Cra could so much as blink, the doll reached out for her wrist and eagerly dragged her along with a surprising strength that would have made any Iop jealous, stripping a surprised yelp out of Evangelyne. She barely had any time to recover before she had a fish shoved right in her face, the smell of seawater so potent it almost made her puke. 

Thankfully, that was soon replaced by the far more pleasant aroma of bread fresh from the oven from when they visited the town baker, whom Her Grace happened to be acquainted with. Mister Bartoloblé eagerly introduced himself the moment he caught sight of the doll’s companion, offering her some pastries as thank you for taking care of Lady Amalia as soon as he learned that she was her new bodyguard and lady-in-waiting. 

All things considered, he was a man as warm as the baked goods he sold. Even if he talked about his disattached, rebellious teenage kids a bit too much…

And that’s how Evangelyne found herself spending her morning—begrudgingly letting herself be dragged from one stand to another as Lady Amalia introduced her to every vendor and passerby she knew, as well as to everything Oma Island had to offer. 

The Cra didn’t miss the way the doll took her sweet time showing her a jewelry stand, one that, according to her and the vendor, an Eliatrope known as Old Biju, specialised in crafting personalised pieces for their clients. 

“Oh, really?” She asked, intrigued. She gestured at the display in front of her. “And these are all unique, then, Mister Biju?”

“That they are, my dear!” Old Biju assured her, his faded beard giving way to a large grin. “Every single one of these pieces is one of a kind.”

“Old Biju is extremely talented, Evangelyne.” Lady Amalia added, delighted to see her lady-in-waiting enjoying herself. She knew she’d love this stand. “If you want something, don’t hesitate to ask him exactly what you want. Trust me, whatever it is, it’ll surpass your expectations!”

The blonde shook her head. “That is alright, my Lady. I really don’t feel like buying anything.” Even though she said that, and she meant it, she couldn’t help but bow down slightly, her hands against her thighs, as she took a closer look at the shimmering gems and precious metals merged together into veritable artworks. “Although, I must say, these are all spectacular, Mister Biju. You must certainly be very proud.”

“Oh, I am.” He nodded vehemently, the tail of his hat bobbing up and down with the motion as he pulled on his suspenders confidently. “However, not as proud as I am of this one.”

Her green eyes widened in surprise when the kindly old man lifted a hand to point at his favourite piece, but instead of signalling to the showcased array, his finger was directed straight at the delicate gold necklace Lady Amalia always wore. When she first saw her with it, looking down at it and caressing it as lovingly as she was doing then, the Cra wracked her brain trying to remember if she’d had it on at the Sadida Kingdom. Only to come out empty-handed. 

Whatever the case, it was plain to see that necklace meant a lot to her. 

“Mister Biju made that necklace for you, Lady Amalia?”

Her curiosity only grew when a light pink coloured her features, her smile as fond as could be. She nodded. “Mm-hmm. It’s a gift, actually.”

“From whom?”

Evangelyne already had a pretty good guess, but she wanted to hear it from the doll’s lips. 

“Oh, it was from King Yugo!”

There it was. Although, it was Mister Biju who answered, not Lady Amalia. Oh, well. Never look a gift Dragoturkey in the mouth, she supposed. 

The doll nodded again, a sweet smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she looked up at the Cra shyly. “Yeah, that’s right. It was a Sacred Dance Day gift.” Seeing the blonde’s bewildered expression, she rushed out to clarify, “It’s an important holiday here. I’m sure you’ll get to experience it next year.”

“Oh.” Was all she said. 

“Anyway,” the doll continued. “Apparently, Yugo had it made especially for me. Isn’t it beautiful?” She brought it closer for Evangelyne to examine, and she had to admit it really was. 

“Indeed. King Yugo wanted something that would reflect the everlasting connection between Sadida and Eliatropes now that Lady Amalia lives with us and is helping us be accepted into your world.” Old Biju revealed, leaning forward on the display window with his elbow. “So, naturally, I was delighted to be of service in the name of such a wonderful gesture.”

As Sadida Doll and Eliatrope kept talking, with the former thanking the latter profusely, Evangelyne couldn’t help but raise an intrigued eyebrow at what she’d just learned. 

Because the only thing more surprising than finally meeting the Council of Six or even roaming the streets of the Eliatrope village had to be the relationship between King Yugo and Lady Amalia. 

There was something going on there, and Evangelyne had a first row seat to everything. 

Because another unchanging part of Lady Amalia’s routine included the Eliatrope visiting her in her room, training in front of her (quite a sight to behold, indeed), and joining her for breakfast every. Single. Morning. 

When the two of them (and Master Adamaï) knocked on her door on her very first day on Oma, the Cra had honestly thought they only came together because they wanted to introduce her to the remaining members of the Council. Sort of like an exception to how they usually spent their mornings. 

It only took her until the next two days to realise that, no, that time wasn’t an exception because they were together every morning. And sometimes, some afternoons and nights as well. 

And people used to tease her and her boyfriend over being joined at the hip… Unlike those two, at least they could go without seeing each other for a day! (Well, she could go without seeing her boyfriend for a day. He, on the other hand, tended to get a little needy…). On the one occasion since Evangelyne arrived that King Yugo had to let Lady Amalia know he wouldn’t be able to see her the next day, she looked like a kicked Bow Wow abandoned on the streets on a rainy day, while his expression was akin to having his heart ripped out of his chest in the most gruesome, most torturous manner imaginable.

Not for the first time, Evangelyne couldn’t help but observe how the atmosphere around them would somehow become more intimate whenever king and doll interacted with each other. Like the world around them faded away as long as they were together. It was almost as touching as it was awkward to watch, seeing as her precise orders were to never leave the Divine Doll out of her sight. 

So, when she said she had a first row seat of everything going on between those two, she meant it. Only her first row seat was closer to remaining upright with her hands behind her back and a short distance away from the Eliatrope King and the Sadida Doll as they caught up on the agonising few hours they spent apart. 

Sort of like now. 

“We’re still working on those emergency plans in case a severe storm breaks out.” King Yugo said, scooting ever so closer to Lady Amalia as they both leaned forward on her railing. He was not-so-subtly searching for her warmth, affectionately bumping heads with her at every given opportunity. “The good thing about living on a tropical island is that you don’t have to face inclement weather very often—like blizzards or cold temperatures—, but tempests are a regular occurrence at sea.”

The doll hummed in thought and raised a finger, “And heat strokes. Don’t forget about heat strokes.” She added. “All this sun has to have some kind of downside.”

He chuckled, and even from where she stood, Evangelyne could see how he looked at her sweetly, “To be fair, we haven’t had a case of heat stroke since we arrived, but I suppose you have a point. As soon as summer rolls around, we should be on the look-out for those.”

Her Grace smirked at him, “So, I’m guessing you’ll be telling Qilby and Shinonomé to keep an eye out?”

With a dramatic groan that had the Divine Doll in stitches—wait, was that an offensive thing to say?—, the Eliatrope King plopped his head down in between his arms. “Don’t remind me…” Came the muffled response. 

“I still don’t know why you’re so stubborn about going to their clinic.” Lady Amalia managed to say in between peals of laughter, shaking her head amusedly.

Now that the Cra thought about it, she’d never taken her to the clinic. Perhaps she should ask Her Grace about it. If anything, it would be good to know where to go during a medical emergency. 

“Um, you do know Qilby works there, right?” His Majesty pointed out matter-of-factly, raising his head just enough to meet the doll’s knowing gaze. 

“Yeah, I kinda figured when I said you’d have to go to their clinic.” She shot back with an innocent shrug. Far too innocent. 

To this day, it still took the blonde completely aback when two dignified figures such as a king and a demigoddess could talk so casually with each other. Even if King Oakheart abhorred protocol, she was still so used to the stilted and overly formal conversations Prince Armand would have with his father and the rest of their court, it was a little weird to suddenly find herself surrounded by people that were much closer to the World of Twelve. 

“Still, I don’t understand why you’re so reluctant to be around Qilby.” Oh, Evangelyne could understand. And not just because she also had a rocky relationship with her own sister. “I mean, he is your brother; you’ve literally known each other your whole lives! I personally can’t imagine myself trying to avoid any of my sisters.”

“Amalia, no offence, but you didn’t exactly spend a lot of time together before you were sent here.” The Eliatrope reminded her dryly. He winced at the slight pout that formed on her face, guilt gnawing away at him. He sighed. “I’m sorry, you’re right. Don’t get me wrong, I love my brother. Really, I do. He’s… He’s my brother. It’s just that Qilby can be a tad… difficult.”

The doll’s expression cleared a little, understanding shining in her eyes. “Yeah, you’re right. I like Qilby well enough, but he’s hard to read sometimes.”

Ah, so she wasn’t the only one who noticed, then. 

“At least he’s usually nice to you.” The king grumbled. “Between him and Nora, you’d think pushing my buttons is our national sport or something.”

“Oh, while we’re on the topic, what is your national sport?” Lady Amalia asked, curiosity glimmering in her eyes. 

“Uh…” His Majesty stuttered, clearly still reeling from the abrupt change in topic. “Eliaball. It’s a game where you have to score a ball through a ring located high up in the wall using anything but your hands or feet.” He rubbed his chin in thought, seemingly considering something, before he added, “Although I would like to introduce Gobbowl to my subjects once we’re integrated into Twelvian society.”

At that, the doll lit up in glee. “Oh, everyone would love Gobbowl! I can’t wait until we have our own matches.”

“I know, right?! Can you imagine if we ever got Kriss la Krass to play here?”

“Oh, that would be amazing! Oh, oh! And what about playing against Brakmar’s Masked Gobbowler? Last time, I heard some people talking about him, and apparently he’s legendary!”

“Are you serious?” King Yugo threw his head back and groaned in frustration. “Great Goddess, that sounds so cool… Unfortunately, I think it will be a cold day in Shukrute before the Brakmarians invite us to watch a Gobbowl match. I don’t think they like us much.”

“Why do you say that?” The doll asked. 

“They were the only ones who refused to attend the banquet at Bonta in your honour.”

“Ah, that’s true.” She conceded with a wince. Shaking her head, she pressed on, “But Queens Astra and Selene also said Gobbowl is practically sacred over there. Maybe we can use it to get in their good graces?”

“Huh.” Realisation flashed through the king’s eyes. He stroked his chin, seemingly considering the idea. “Well, it’s worth a shot…”

As they went back and forth on how to convince the Brakmarians into agreeing to play Gobbowl with them with the sole purpose of seeing their most famous player in action, their previous topic seemingly forgotten, Evangelyne didn’t miss the odd air of intimacy growing around them. 

You’d have to be blinder than a skrot to not see it. 

They were constantly reaching out for each other—small, lingering touches here and there. Or the way they inched ever so closely to the other, until there was barely a breath’s distance between them; their faces were so close, it was a miracle their lips didn’t brush each other’s as they talked. Something told the Cra they desperately wanted that to happen. 

Oh, and the way they looked at each other… 

King Yugo’s brown eyes would search for Lady Amalia like a parched man looking for an oasis in the middle of a desert. And when he found her, he’d stare at her like she was the gravity in the room, pulling him with her. Not to say the doll was doing much better, either. Quite the contrary, really. She wasn’t as bold so as to actively seek the king’s gaze, her eyes would instead flicker away shyly whenever they met, but when she did find the courage to hold his gaze or he wasn’t looking, Lady Amalia’s own brown orbs would light up, as if the Eliatrope had been the one to put the stars in her eyes. 

In a way, he mostly had. 

It was kind of adorable, to be honest. Or, at least, it would be if they weren’t so oblivious. 

Because that had to be the most insane part about those two. The way they danced around each other, somehow convinced they were of one mind in everything but their love for each other.  

When they were together, the rest of the world around them ceased to exist. King Yugo, whom Evangelyne was beginning to understand was already kind and warm-hearted by nature, practically melted into a puddle of goo the second Lady Amalia stepped into the same room as him. He was a lovesick Bow Wow if Evangelyne ever saw one, not at all helped by the way the ears on his hood would drop and the goofiest, cheesiest smile would stretch over his lips at the sight of her. 

Seriously, the Cra swore she saw his eyes glow blue before; she wouldn’t be surprised if he somehow managed to physically turn his eyeballs into little hearts. 

Meanwhile, Lady Amalia, who her bodyguard originally imagined to be as regal and composed as befitted her divine status, devolved into a giggling school girl with a crush the second the Eliatrope King was in close proximity. Bright pink would bloom across her dark cheeks. Her fingers toying mindlessly with a few strands of her hair. The other hand hastily covering the wide grin on her face as she giggled uncontrollably at every even remotely funny thing he said. 

It was like watching two teenagers falling in love for the first time. Not once bitten, yet twice shy all the same. And yet, they didn’t exactly flirt like two crazy kids experiencing their first crush. No, it was something far more natural and domestic. They were perfectly at ease, talking about every topic under the sun, like they’d been together for years instead of just a few months. Searching for the other’s warmth and comfort, giving them their full attention instead of demanding theirs. They preened like proud peacocks whenever they managed to draw a smile on the other’s face, rather than because they made them feel good about themselves in that selfish display that first loves usually were. Before experience, trial and error, and heartache (lots of heartache) taught them better. 

Smiling amusedly as the doll flicked him on the forehead with one of her vines and the Eliatrope retaliated by summoning a portal to prank her, Evangelyne had to admit she wasn’t completely taken aback by the realisation. She had had the feeling there was something more going on underneath the surface than just a close friendship between a host and his guest. She would bet against an Ecaflip that everyone who had ever seen them interact had come to the same conclusion, in fact. 

Even if she didn’t really interact with the Eliatrope entourage then, it was clear as daylight that King Yugo had not appreciated Count Harebourg’s interest in Lady Amalia during the banquet in the least. He certainly wasn’t beating the Overprotective Jealous Boyfriend allegations after the Xelor aristocrat went out of line and he rushed to her rescue with murder in his eyes. 

She distinctly remembered Prince Armand constantly bringing up the fact when discussing the night’s events with his father. Even the Cra had to admit that, though the way they acted around each other back then had been a bit stilted, it all melted away after the confrontation with the Count. The moment they stepped into the ballroom afterwards, it was impossible to tell them apart from any other happy couple present. 

Her suspicions only grew when she finally met them at the Sadida Kingdom. Anyone with eyes would take notice of how they seemed to gravitate towards each other. Constantly craving the other’s company as soon as they were apart. King Yugo stood close to Lady Amalia’s side at all times, the only exception being the respective times when they both needed to talk to King Oakheart privately. His protective instincts flared up again when Princess Aurora insulted her, his whole body surging with power—only that time the Divine Doll had it covered. During the Petals Dance, Lady Amalia didn’t hesitate even for a second and reached out to him, pulling him with her into yet another dance that grew in intimacy with each passing second and each time he twirled her in his arms. Then the two disappeared into the night by going out on the balcony…

(Now that she thought about it, her eyes darting all around her critically, they really seemed to have a thing for balconies.)

The quiet affection combined with the blushing effervescence they displayed now was all she needed to confirm what she and the entire World of Twelve already suspected. It was plain as day. King Yugo and Lady Amalia were deeply, hopelessly, madly in love with each other. 

And they seemed to have absolutely no idea that their feelings were mutual. 

It took every ounce of self-control she possessed not to groan in exasperation.

Forget what she said earlier. It was exactly like dealing with two teenagers crushing for the first time. The last time Evangelyne had had to take care of anything similar, it had been her own teenage crush. And it was by some miracle of Cra that it didn’t end in disaster, truth be told. 

“Oh, Evangelyne! How embarrassing… I almost forgot you were there all along!” King Yugo admitted, calling out for her, and the blonde had to bite down on her lip—hard—to keep herself from making a sarcastic remark like ‘You don’t say?’ Luckily for her, she was too busy blinking in surprise when the Eliatrope waved her over to make that faux pas. “Why don’t you come over here and join our conversation? I know you’re Amalia’s bodyguard, but surely you can afford to step a bit closer, right?”

At his words, the Divine Doll’s face lit up like a starry night sky. Clasping her hands together over her mouth, she turned to her lady-in-waiting with pleading eyes. “Yugo’s right, Evangelyne. We won’t bite.” She giggled, sharing a coy grin with her not-so-unrequited love. “Besides, you still have to tell us more about your culture!”

The lady-in-waiting stuttered, struggling to come up with something to say. Eventually, she gave up with a quiet sigh and, with a small shake of her head, she strode over to them, all the while making a mental note to add ‘chaperone’ to her list of qualifications. 

Well, it’s not like she could complain. It still beat doing the same thing for Armand and Aurora. She shuddered at the memory. 

“You are correct, Your Grace. I did promise I would gladly share more about my people.” She said as she came to stand next to them. However, her expression turned uncertain as she raised a finger skywards, her emerald gaze following after it. “Although, I am afraid that might have to wait, given the time.”

“The time?” The doll echoed, tilting her head in confusion. 

She nodded. “Indeed. Judging by the position of the sun, it is almost noon already.” She turned to the king. “Didn’t you say the Council would meet up around this time today, Your Majesty?”

All colour drained from King Yugo’s face as realisation finally dawned on him. 

“Oh, shoot! It’s so late already?!” He asked no one in particular. 

He scrambled to untangle himself from his cross-legged position on the railing, almost tumbling down in the process, but he managed to steady himself just in time. His out-stretched palm glowing blue, a portal materialised right in front of him, but before he went through it, he glanced at the Divine Doll with so much love and longing Evangelyne felt her own heart clench. 

“I’ll see you later. Okay, Amalia?”

“Of course. Good luck with your meeting.” She assured him sweetly, waving him goodbye. 

They remained like that, just staring at each other in comfortable silence, for a few more seconds before the Eliatrope finally realised he really did have to go and crossed over the portal. 

Keen green eyes going back and forth between the swooning doll and the space the lovesick king had just occupied, Evangelyne couldn’t help but think quietly to herself that maybe it was high time somebody addressed the dragon in the room. And she wasn’t talking about the dragon members of the Council. 

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

“My Lady, with all due respect, how come you have yet to tell His Majesty how you feel?”

Rather than words, her question was answered by the sound of a small explosion going off right in front of Lady Amalia’s face as she crouched down on the floor. 

The Cra winced, chastising herself. On second thought, maybe she shouldn’t have brought the topic up while her ward was busy trying to craft her own breed of explosive Sadida dolls…

The doll whirled around so fast, it actually made Evangelyne jolt, unease roiling in her stomach at the strained smile and almost frantic look on her face. All around her, her little Sadida doll helpers jumped into action, scattering around the garden as they went to retrieve something for their mistress to clean herself with. 

“What?” Lady Amalia said, her voice ridiculously high-pitched. Too much to be convincing. She made a show of waving her hands with a scoff. “Uh, no? Of course not! Yugo and I are friends. Just friends. There’s nothing to confess. What are you even talking about, girl?”

The blonde winced. From her mistress’ unconvincing denial or her ineffectual attempt at sounding street smart, she didn’t know. 

“Forgive me, my Lady. I was simply thinking aloud.” She tried to excuse herself. Better to let the matter drop. She didn’t even know why she brought it up in the first place. Her duty was to guard over and assist Lady Amalia; her love life was absolutely none of her business. 

If servants were allowed to comment on whom they masters chose as their partner, history would have taken a completely different course. 

“Why would you ever feel the need to think about that?” The doll questioned, her brow furrowed, and Evangelyne found herself with no retort. “A-and, why would you think there’s anything going on between Yugo and I?” She tried to sound confident and composed as she asked her question, but her voice lost its strength near the end—turning meeker, more timid. 

This was the part where the Cra woman made her choice. All she had to do was feign ignorance, apologise once again for speaking out of turn, and move on with her life. Dealing with the matters of the heart was not in her job description. Then again, the Api Queen didn’t exactly explain said job description in detail either. She just instructed her to look over Lady Amalia. And didn’t helping her when she was clearly in emotional turmoil technically count as looking out for her? 

There were few uncertainties more painful and maddening than not knowing whether your feelings were reciprocated or not. And even if they were, mixed in with the elation and euphoria, there was always this nagging feeling at the back of your head reprimanding you for all the time you wasted second-guessing yourself when you could have spent it with the object of your affections. 

Still… This wasn’t helping a silly teen with a crush. A romantic relationship between King Yugo, an outsider to their world, and Lady Amalia, a Divine Doll, could have tremendous consequences that were sure to leave a mark on the World of Twelve. By having a Sadida demigoddess ascend to the Eliatrope throne as their queen consort, world politics would be affected forever. Nothing would ever be the same. 

It was best she let things run their course. They were both old enough and held important positions; if it was bound to be, it would happen without her meddling. 

Her mind made up, Evangelyne opened her mouth to deny Lady Amalia’s question:

“Well, it’s just… I’ve seen the way you two act around each other, and it’s pretty obvious there’s something going on.” Only for her mouth to have a mind of its own. Behind the awkward smile she offered to the doll, Evangelyne was internally screaming.

Oh, curse her and her bleeding heart! That was why she could never pull on anyone’s strings; she was far too sincere and too much of a softie to play with the emotions of others to get what she wanted. At least, intentionally…

It was then that Lady Amalia’s dolls returned with a wet cloth and handed it to their mistress, who took it gracefully and began to dab at her face with it, wiping herself clean of any remaining soot. She looked at her bodyguard with the eye that wasn’t currently being scrubbed. 

“What do you mean? We don’t act around each other in any way!”

“Come on, Eva! This is your chance to deny everything! Don’t get into a state of disarrow now!” She told herself, determined to salvage the situation before it got way out of hand. 

“You two seem awfully close, my Lady.” 

“Cradamnit, Eva!”

It seemed impossible, yet at her casual admission, Lady Amalia’s face erupted all over again, only this time it burst with colour instead of soot. “How… How close, exactly?” She squeaked. 

To Shukrute with it. It appeared she was just going to keep digging herself deeper instead of doing the smart thing, instead of doing the Cra thing, and taking it all back, so better get it over with. 

“Extremely so.” She responded simply. When the doll looked down in embarrassment, the blonde took a step forward before crouching down so they’d be at eye level. “The way you two are so completely at ease with each other, the way you look at each other… It’s not something you see every day.”

Lady Amalia looked up at her from underneath her lashes shyly. “Do I make it too obvious that I have feelings for him?” She asked, biting her bottom lip nervously. 

Okay, she could do this. She could answer that one question tactfully. 

“You certainly seem to be more… bubbly when he’s around.” That was actually pretty good. The Cra had to fight down the urge to smirk in satisfaction, but she did mentally pat herself on the back for her quick thinking. 

“So you’re saying I basically act like a lovesick fool around him.”

“Not with those exact words…”

“Same difference.” Lady Amalia deadpanned. For a second, all Evangelyne could do was smile sheepishly at her, bracing herself for the worst, but the doll just sighed, hanging her head in defeat. “Oh, Sadida! This is so embarrassing!” She moaned, dropping her head into her hands. “It hasn’t even been two weeks since I realised I’m in love with Yugo, and I’m already making a fool out of myself!” She peeked at Evangelyne from between the cracks of her fingers. “Do you think he’s noticed?”

The Cra blinked slowly, and said in her strongest monotone, “Trust me, he has absolutely no idea.”

Then, the doll’s words registered in her brain. Ears flickering in confusion, she asked, “Excuse me, my Lady, but what do you mean it’s only been two weeks since you realised you’re in love with His Majesty?”

It was Lady Amalia’s turn to look at her like she’d sprouted a second head. “It means exactly that.”

The Cra’s eyes went wide from the revelation. 

“B-but! But you’ve always acted so close…” She stammered. She honestly hated herself for losing her composure like that, but she couldn’t help it. Her shock was too great. “Like, at the banquet at Bonta, when he defended you from Count Harebourg, or when you danced together. And what about back in the Sadida Kingdom? You two were a united front if I ever saw one.”

A flicker of fury flashed through the doll’s brown eyes at the mention of Count Harebourg, but soon after it dimmed into something resembling melancholy. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips when the Cra mentioned their time spent in the Sadida Kingdom, but it wasn’t enough to wash away the dejection in her expression. 

“Yugo and I are close friends like that. He’s my best friend, in fact.” She explained, her voice soft yet distant. “But we were never a couple.” She raised an eyebrow then, “I was under the impression that you knew? Since you just asked me why I haven’t confessed yet?”

“Oh, no. I knew that already.” Much like literally every other guest, she caught wind of the platonic state of their relationship while back at Bonta. King Yugo had made sure of that. “I was just surprised you only recently realised your feelings despite having spent so much time here, with him.”

The doll just shrugged. “I guess I didn’t want to believe it.” A shadow shrouded her features for a moment, her mind seemingly elsewhere darker if the way she clenched her jaw and her eyes turned glassy was any indication. “I officially realised the true extent of my feelings back in the Sadida Kingdom when he…” She stopped abruptly and shook her head, causing the Cra to raise an intrigued eyebrow. “Well, let’s just say I finally realised the way I’ve always felt so drawn towards him went beyond simple friendship.”

“So you believe you’ve had feelings for him for longer than that?” Evangelyne prodded gently.

She shrugged again. “Most likely. I mean, can you blame me?” She flashed her a coy smile. “I still remember when I first arrived here. When I first laid my eyes on him, I was so shell-shocked because he was just so gorgeous! Even his voice is enough to make me weak in the knees. So rich and charming, yet also soft and velvety…

“Thinking back, I was a fool for thinking what I felt for him was nothing more than friendship. Yes, it is true we spend most of our time together like two old friends would, but I was kidding myself for thinking I was immune to his charms.” She swooned, a lovesick sigh escaping her lips as she lost herself in a world of her own. “He’s always so kind to me, so thoughtful. How could I not fall in love with him?”

Just then, the dreamy look on her beautiful face faded into a kind of aching sorrow, her eyes flickering to the grassy floor underneath her as she drew lazy circles on it. “But that’s just who Yugo is. Endlessly kind and compassionate. Always putting others before himself. That’s why I have to be more careful from now on and hide my feelings better. I don’t want to get my hopes up any more than I want to cause him any discomfort for having to let me down gently. He already has too much on his plate...”

The only reason Evangelyne didn’t literally shake some sense into Lady Amalia was because she was her superior and she could not afford to lose her nerve like that. But she had to be blind to not see the fact that King Yugo, as genuinely friendly as he was, always seemed to be just a tad bit friendlier with her. 

So she tried to achieve the same thing by being a tad gentler, “With all due respect, Your Grace, but are you really sure you’d only be getting your hopes up? For all we know, His Majesty may harbor the same feelings.”

The doll surprised her then by letting out a laugh, a bitter, mirthless sound that was very uncharacteristic of the otherwise energetic girl in front of her. All of a sudden, her bent down posture, with her arms hanging loose in front of her, reminded her of a warrior who had been bested in battle and had no choice but to accept defeat. Even her dolls looked up at her in concern, crowding around her with sympathy in their large, pupiless eyes. 

“Oh, trust me.” She said, a hard edge to her voice. “Yugo does not feel the same way about me. Close as we are now, we’re only like this because I asked him to make an effort. I can’t possibly imagine him developing feelings for me.”

That revelation shook Evangelyne to her core. She had to use all her self-control to not fall flat on her butt from shock. As the Divine Doll toyed mindlessly with the dolls to her left, her right hand clutching the grass underneath her reflecting her true emotional state, the Cra wracked her brain for answers. While she couldn’t possibly pretend to know more about their relationship than the people in it, Lady Amalia’s conviction in the fact that King Yugo didn’t love her back was staggering. 

It was just so contradictory to everything she had witnessed from them so far. 

There was a reason why the world leaders remained unconvinced of the true nature of their relationship despite the Eliatrope King’s assurances that it was purely platonic. To any outside observer, they acted no different from a pair of lovers! She distinctively remembered hearing some people comment on how the two were probably refraining from PDA out of a sense of decorum. Of course, Evangelyne knew better (now), but she was still under the impression that it was all a matter of time before they woke up and smelled the roses.

But when the dark shadows returned to Lady Amalia’s face, pain and uncertainty shining in her brown eyes, a painful pang resonated in the Cra’s chest. She knew she shouldn’t have stuck her nose where it didn’t belong! A knot formed at the pit of her stomach, guilt eating at her for causing her ward this much distress. 

She’d done enough damage for the day. Because of that, even though she didn’t need her heightened senses to realise something must have happened between the Divine Doll and the Eliatrope King for the former to be so blind to the obvious, she refrained from asking, knowing she’d only risk stirring up more trouble. 

With a sigh, she chose to change the topic instead, “Earlier, you were talking about the intricacies of crafting an explosive doll.” She said airily, causing the doll to glance back at her in surprise. “If you don’t mind my asking, what are the differences between regular Sadida dolls and the explosive ones?” A small pause. “…other than they, you know, explode.”

Truth be told, Evangelyne was already familiar with the process. One didn’t spend her whole life in the Sadida Kingdom without picking up on a few things, after all. But she knew Lady Amalia was passionate about her garden and her projects, so she figured it would be the best way to keep her mind away from her supposedly unrequited feelings. 

The doll blinked rapidly, her mind still reeling from the abrupt change in topic. “Oh. Uh, well, um, let’s see…” She stammered, her hands reaching out to gather the materials she’d been working on before her bodyguard distracted her. 

“The main difference is their endurance. Regular dolls are synchronised to their creators, they sort of act as their companions, so they’re meant to last.” She gestured at the dolls around her acting as a helping hand to illustrate her point. “Explosive dolls, on the other hand,” she raised one of the seeds she’d been working on, “serve only one purpose—to explode. So they’re not expected to last as long. Meaning, Sadida must be very careful when crafting them, since they don’t want to make the fabric too resilient or too weak by accident.”

As she rambled on and on, a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Even if she was playing along, Evangelyne’s attempts at distracting her from her heartbreak didn’t go unnoticed. Maybe she was still relatively young, but she wasn’t that naive. No one who grew up surrounded by Sadida, especially the Sadida Royal Family, could remain ignorant of their customs. There was no doubt in Amalia’s mind that the Cra most likely already knew everything she was telling her by heart. 

Which made the fact that she was willing to endure the lecture for her sake all the more meaningful and touching.

Her smile turned into a pout, however, when she tried to initiate some friendly conversation with her lady-in-waiting. Something light-hearted, like asking about her life beyond her culture. Only for the Cra to completely shut her off. 

The Divine Doll frowned in determination. She would not let that deter her in her efforts to become Evangelyne’s friend, rather than the person she served. 

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

That night, Amalia unceremoniously plopped down face first on her bed. She rose to her knees just enough to see her reflection on the bulbshroom illuminated mirror; it was all she could do to not yank at her hair in frustration as she thought back to her failed attempts at befriending Evangelyne. 

That woman was one tough egg to crack, as she heard the Eliatropes say. 

In a way, she reminded her of Yugo when he pulled away from her. The blonde was the epitome of courtesy, politeness, and decorum. Always so helpful, so thoughtful; she followed her around with no complaints, just a few reasonable questions at most. It was undeniable that she treated her with the utmost respect. 

Which made it all the more infuriating when Amalia would try to grow closer to her and she would respond by shutting her off behind a wall of polite yet decisive refusals. Every single ‘No, thank you’ or ill-concealed change in topic symbolising one stone of the wall. 

It was maddening! All she wanted was a friend, and just as Cra herself answered her pleas, she just had to send her her most protocol-abiding follower. Wasn’t there a single Cra who was a bit more laid-back when it came to dealing with social classes and positions of power?

With a resigned huff, she flopped back down on the flower she used as bed, pollen particles flying around her from the force of the impact, and stared aimlessly at the ceiling, her thoughts going a mile per minute. 

It was so frustrating. One thing was Evangelyne refusing to talk about herself unless it was for educational purposes, like when she mentioned a perk of living in the Sadida Kingdom was that she always had something green to wear during important holidays as her religion dictated. But if it couldn’t be tied back to Cra culture and their customs? The blonde remained more tight-lipped than her dolls, and they at least had the excuse of having their mouths literally stitched up. Despite everything, Amalia could understand she was still new, it was only natural it took her a while to feel comfortable enough to talk about herself.

But another, very different thing was her stubborn refusal to ease up on the way she addressed other people. Especially when said people had already lost count of how many times they told her she could drop the formalities. There was being polite, and then, there was being absolutely anal about it. 

Seriously! Amalia, Yugo, Adamaï, and practically every member of the Council of Six (barring Efrim, but he could get planted for all she cared), had already told Evangelyne she didn’t have to address them by their formal titles, she could just call them by their names. But the Cra didn’t budge an inch. Their names did not leave her lips unless they were preceded by a ‘master’ or a ‘lady’. 

While it was true Amalia was sort of used to the formalities from dealing with the Eliatropes, and some of the Council members were still careful of treating her with respect, the doll had been hoping she could become friends with Evangelyne, and she kinda liked it better when her friends called her by her name. Like Yugo and Adamaï, or even Nora. 

In her mind, it only made sense. After all, as her bodyguard and lady-in-waiting, she and Evangelyne would be spending a lot of time together from now on. Wasn’t it logical that they grew close and came to see each other as friends?

Apparently, Evangelyne wasn’t of the same mind.

The doll sighed dejectedly, her shoulders shagging in disappointment, when she caught sight of herself in the mirror again, and she frowned at her reflection. What was she doing, throwing a pity party for herself barely a week after the Cra came into her life? Was she really ready to throw in the towel so soon?

No, of course not. 

If she could get Yugo to see reason all those months ago, she could get Evangelyne to feel at ease around her enough to become friends. 

She was Sadida’s eleventh doll. And there was nothing she couldn’t accomplish if she put her mind to it. 

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

Even though she tried not to make a show out of it, of all the things Evangelyne expected Lady Amalia to occupy her time with… this certainly wasn’t one of them. 

When she first arrived and the Divine Doll asked her what they were supposed to do, the Cra explained she was free to follow her daily routine with no concern for her. The only real difference would be that now she was to remain by her side and help her if needed. The doll beamed at that, and the blonde raised an eyebrow in confusion when she impishly asked her if she wanted to see how she liked to spend her afternoons. 

It wasn’t like Evangelyne had much of a choice, so she just flashed her a tentative grin and gave her consent. 

If it wasn’t enough having to pick up her gaping mouth from the floor at the astonishing sight of the Eliatrope village in all its splendour—once she comforted her upset stomach yet again after arriving through portal; for which Lady Amalia apologised profusely and sincerely—, the lady-in-waiting felt it slacken yet again when they arrived at Masters Glip and Baltazar’s training ground. 

She couldn’t help but stiffen up slightly when all the children present noticed them and ran up to them. While most of them, thankfully, crowded Lady Amalia, a few independent thinkers turned their attention to the mysterious pretty woman accompanying her instead. Even though Evangelyne didn’t consider herself to be bad with children, per se, her head ended up spinning from all their questions. 

Not like she could say Master Glip thumping his large cane against the ground to get their attention was much better. Especially when he regarded the new arrival with a mixture of derision and suspicion in his eyes. 

Just as Evangelyne tensed up and prepared to grab her bow to protect Lady Amalia, fearing she would have to deal with another irritable Bwork like Master Efrim, the strain eased up her shoulders when his dark beady eyes landed on the Divine Doll. To a regular passerby, it might have been imperceptible, but to a Cra like her, it was clear as day. 

Master Glip’s eyes softened ever so slightly at the sight of the doll. Strict and stern as he may be, he apparently had a soft spot for Lady Amalia. She was safe from his scorn.

The sun being blocked by a large shadow was all the indication they needed to know his dragon twin, Master Baltazar, had arrived as well. 

“Lady Amalia.” He said stoically as he approached the new arrivals. “It is good to see you are still taking your training seriously.”

“Wait, training?” The Cra’s head swivelled back to the doll in shock. At the same time, the shortest Eliatrope went on, ignoring her. 

“However, I must admit I fail to understand why you brought Miss Evangelyne with you.” He wrinkled his nose disapprovingly. “Have you perhaps forgotten that we explicitly made an exception when we agreed to train you as well?”

Her own frown deepening despite herself at so blatantly being called an outcast, the blonde was about to defend herself when the Sadida Doll beat her to it. “But Master Glip, Evangelyne is here as my bodyguard. Her job is literally to be with me wherever I go.”

He flashed the Cra a sceptical look, an eyebrow raised as he sniffed in her direction. “Are you perhaps suggesting you wouldn’t be safe here? I must admit, you wound me, my Lady. I would expect one of my students to have more faith in me.”

The doll immediately raised her hands up in supplication, her eyes frantic. “Nothing further from my intention, Master Glip! I’ve seen what you can do; naturally, I have full faith in your abilities. It’s just…” She trailed off, not sure what to say to salvage the situation. 

“I was entrusted with the mission of looking over Lady Amalia by Cra herself, Master Glip.” Evangelyne chimed in, her chin held up high as her race’s notorious pride returned at full force. “I do not intend to step on any toes or overstep my boundaries, I am simply fulfilling my duty as one of the Lady of the Bolt’s followers.”

At the mention of the archer deity, the children present began to gush in amazement, and Evangelyne couldn’t help but smirk slightly while Master Glip’s frown deepened. 

Just as he opened up his mouth to voice his discontent with the arrangement, his dragon twin spoke up from behind him, his gravelly voice immensely more pleasant and understanding. 

“Oh, don’t take it so personally, Brother. The girl is merely following her goddess’ will; just as we follow the Great Goddess’. There is no reason for you to get so worked up about it.”

“There is when her goddess dares bring my ability to look after my students into question.” He shot back, shooting his brother a nasty glare from over his shoulder. 

“It wasn’t just Cra.” Lady Amalia added, her voice pleading. “King Oakheart and Prince Armand from the Sadida Kingdom also wished for Evangelyne to keep me company and to look over me.”

“Ah, so now you’re saying even the Sadida Royal Family doubts I know how to do my job.” He grumbled acidly. He yelped in surprise and, nursing his head, turned back around to face Master Baltazar, his glare intensifying after the dragon had smacked him with one of his wings. A surprising feat, considering how small they were.

“They are saying no such thing.” The beige dragon told him firmly. With a sigh, his features softened; it wasn’t the first time he had to reel his brother’s temper in and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. “They are saying, Miss Evangelyne is here for a reason; to protect Lady Amalia. That could hardly ever be a bad thing, right?” 

When Master Glip didn’t answer, instead crossing his arms as he stubbornly looked away, the gargantuan dragon grew impatient, blowing a ring of smoke out of his nostrils. “In case you forgot, Glip, Yugo likewise approves of Evangelyne’s presence, especially if she’s accompanying Lady Amalia. So by refusing her, you are disobeying our king’s direct orders.”

The stubby Eliatrope stiffened at the reminder, a myriad of emotions flashing through his face as he seemed to debate with himself whether standing by what he said yet going against his king’s wishes was worth it. Evangelyne narrowed her eyes in on them both, her gaze flickering towards Lady Amalia as she eagerly awaited her mentor’s verdict. Not for the first time, she found herself wondering if perhaps King Yugo’s quick acceptance of her as the doll’s bodyguard and constant companion was actually a result of the Sadida Doll being in actual danger, with the Eliatrope leader refusing to take any chances regarding his beloved’s safety. 

(Even if he refused to admit Lady Amalia was the reason blood ran through his veins at all). 

She was startled out of her musings by Master Glip’s loud sighing. His shoulders shagged in defeat. 

“Very well, she may stay.” When his dark eyes landed on the Cra’s emerald ones, they hardened in warning. “But refrain from distracting my students. They have all worked very hard to be here today.”

And with that, he turned back around and began his march towards the centre of the training grounds, where some sort of pit dug into the ground stood, a very disgruntled-looking group of Eliatrope children following after him and taking their places around the pit. Evangelyne tilted her head in curiosity at the sight, the bangs framing her face following the movement, only for a warm hand on her shoulder to snap her out of her momentary daze. 

She blinked up in surprise to find Lady Amalia offering her a kind smile. 

“Don’t let it get to you, Evangelyne. Master Glip can be a little… cranky. But it’s only because he takes his position as Wakfung master very seriously, almost as much as ensuring his students’ protection. I guess the idea of me having a bodyguard around him made him feel a tad territorial?”

Out of the entire explanation, the Cra only clocked in on one word, “Wak-fung?” She said slowly, rolling the word in her mouth. 

“It’s the Eliatropes’ ancestral fighting style.” Cra and Sadida looked up when Master Baltazar spoke. “All Eliatropes are expected to learn it from a very young age, and only Eliatropes. That is why outsiders tend to ruffle my brother’s feathers.” He sent the blonde a kind smile, an apology in his bright blue eyes. “Please, do not take it too personally, Miss Evangelyne.”

“That, and as he said, today is a very important day.” Lady Amalia added, an excited grin on her lips. “Today we’re going to have exhibition matches to really test our abilities and see the extent of our progress. Master Glip is not wrong when he says the last thing the kids need now is to be distracted.”

Evangelyne nodded along, seeing the logic behind that reasoning. It honestly wasn’t all that different from her days as a cadet. The training grounds tended to be completely empty whenever it was time to test the recruits’ skill with the bow so as to make sure distractions wouldn’t negatively impact their performance. 

Her brow furrowed, though. “Wait, if only Eliatropes are allowed to learn Wakfung—”

“It’s more like only they are able to. You know, since it includes manipulating wakfu and portals and all that.”

“—then what in Cra’s name does he teach you, Your Grace?”

Lady Amalia’s grin turned downright impish. With a conspiring wink and a finger to her mouth, she began to tug at the Cra to follow her. “You’ll see. Now, come on, before all the best spots are taken!”

So Evangelyne let herself be dragged over to the makeshift bleachers around the pit and sat down next to the doll. She watched from the corner of her eye as Lady Amalia eagerly chatted up with the kids around her, who, Evangelyne noted with surprise, seemed to adore her—she understood and even expected that reaction from Sadida children given what a Divine Doll meant to them, but for her to be so well-received amongst the Eliatropes came off as a bit of a surprise. It appeared she had earned a place in their hearts beyond her role as the key to their acceptance into the World of Twelve. 

The Cra’s train of thought was interrupted by a gentle squeeze on her thigh. Tensing up in surprise, she immediately lowered her gaze in search of the culprit, and promptly relaxed when she saw it was just a little kid, vying for her attention alongside his friends. 

“Are you really Lady Amalia’s bodyguard?” He asked, starry-eyed. 

Her shock eased into an amused grin. She chuckled. “Why, yes. That’s exactly who I am.”

“Then you must be a very strong warrior, right?” A little girl behind him asked, excitement in her voice. 

“I like to think I manage well enough.” She shrugged. 

Truth be told, Evangelyne knew she was one of the best archers of her generation. Not for nothing she managed to break all previously established records back in her days as a trainee. But she knew better than to brag and potentially expose herself while she was still trying to gouge out the Eliatropes’ true colours, so she opted for the modest answer instead. 

That, and because she didn’t like to be the centre of attention in the first place. 

“Does that mean you can wield a sword?” The boy pressed on. 

At the same time, the girl added her own two kamas, “Are you a really strong hand-to-hand fighter, like a wrestler?”

“Uh…” She trailed off, making a face. 

The short answer would be ‘yes’, but at the same time, while the Cra knew how to handle herself with a sword, and could definitely hold her own in a wrestling competition, she still tried to avoid those options as much as possible. 

“I know a thing or two.” She finally said, an awkward smile on her freckled face. “However, I’m a Cra. So I’m actually a much better archer either way.” She gestured at her bow for emphasis. 

The two kids stared down at the weapon for a few moments, before their heads snapped up back at Evangelyne, wonder in their eyes. “That’s so cool!” They both said in unison. 

“The coolest.” The blonde almost jumped in her seat when Lady Amalia agreed with their assessment, her head peeking out from behind Evangelyne. “However, the matches are about to start. Ellie, Troppy, you don’t want to make Master Glip angry, do you?”

“No, Lady Amalia…” And with that, they turned their attention back to the arena in front of them. 

Just as her lady-in-waiting was about to ask her if that was true or just something she said to get the children off her back, Master Glip’s surprisingly booming voice erupting from where he stood in the middle of the circle proved that, yes, the doll’s warning was one hundred percent true. 

The cane-using Eliatrope then began to give a speech. Judging from its fluidity and conviction, it was hard to tell if the Wakfung master knew it by heart because he had rehearsed it beforehand, or simply because he had had to give it many times before. Nevertheless, he congratulated his students for their hard work and all the progress they made. He likewise warned them that they still had a long way to go before they could truly call themselves masters in the art of Wakfung, but they were now a little bit closer to their goal. And to prove it, they were to engage him in combat to truly test their abilities. 

What followed next was Master Glip calling out to each and every one of the children present. As they were all different ages, it didn’t take her long to figure out they were also at different stages in their learning, with their teacher adapting seamlessly to each and every one of them. 

With the younger kids, clearly the beginners, he limited himself to dodge and parry their attacks, but never actually made an offensive move himself, no doubt understanding holding off an actual attack—or worse, being actually hit by one—would be too much for their little bodies to endure. The older students, on the other hand, faced a much more arduous battle on a more even field. While Evangelyne couldn’t possibly know the true extent of Master Glip’s powers, if he was anything like King Yugo, then there was no doubt in her mind that he was still holding back. Even so, that didn’t stop him from alternating between parrying blows and summoning portals and wakfu beams of his own to give his young opponents the chance to truly test their strength and wit. 

Irritable as the short man was, the Cra had to admit it—Master Glip had more than earned his title of Wakfung master. He was a phenomenal teacher; deeply knowledgeable in his area of expertise, yet more than willing to let his students learn on their own. 

As Evangelyne clapped for the latest kid to be assessed alongside his classmates, she felt a jolt run down her spine when the goateed Eliatrope swivelled his head in their direction, his dark eyes seemingly piercing through her and staring into her very soul. She turned her head every which way, wondering if it was her he wanted something from, only for Lady Amalia to choose that moment to stand up. 

If possible, the children’s cheering got even louder, so much so, the Cra had to fight down the urge to cover her elongated ears with her hands to protect herself from the noise. But before she got the chance, the Sadida Doll turned her head around to face her. Her smile was timid, yet her brown eyes burned with unbridled determination. 

“Well, guess it’s my turn now. Wish me luck, Evangelyne!” She told her over her shoulder as she made her way over to the arena. Leaving an utterly flummoxed Evangelyne in her wake. 

Wait a minute… Lady Amalia was going to fight, too?! How?! She couldn’t create portals or blast wakfu beams like the other students did! How in Cra’s name was Master Glip supposed to assess her progress? Did King Yugo know about this? Because, judging from how protective he was of the doll, it was a little hard to believe that he would approve of her getting so thoroughly beaten as she was gearing up to. 

“Dear Cra, I can’t watch…” The blonde bemoaned to herself, covering her eyes with her hands. Even so, she was unable to stop herself as curiosity won out and caused her to crack her fingers open just enough to see what was going on.

“It’s always so cool to see Lady Amalia in action. This fight is gonna be so epic!” One of the little girls the doll had been talking to earlier gushed, her friends nodding in agreement all around her. 

Wow, and she thought Sacriers and Ouginaks were bloodthirsty warriors… Iops to an extent, too, but it’d be more accurate to say they were too reckless for their own good. 

When Lady Amalia finally made it into the pit Master Glip awaited her at, the two of them shared a respectful bow, their backs leaning forward in a perfect ninety degree angle. As they rose back up, the two locked their unflinching eyes with each other. 

“As with every other challenger today, Lady Amalia, your goal will be to showcase the true extent of your abilities after weeks of training.” The Eliatrope announced, repeating the same explanation as with the kids. “Therefore, although your objective should not be about beating me, I want you to fight like it is; hopefully, that will help motivate you into giving your all.”

“I understand, Master Glip.” She nodded. 

“Likewise,” he continued, “since this isn’t a traditional fight, the end will not be determined by whether you stay within the arena’s confines or not. Rather, I will decide when to stop after I have reached the conclusion that I’ve seen enough.” He raised an eyebrow. “Is that agreeable to you?”

Again, the doll nodded. “Yes, Master Glip. I agree to those terms.”

“Very well, then.” He said solemnly. Then, his already grave expression morphed into something fierce, cold determination shining in his dark eyes as he took on an offensive stand. “Whenever you’re ready!”

Evangelyne watched, astonished, as Lady Amalia mimicked his posture, her legs spread apart and her knees bent just slightly, widening her centre of gravity, while she held up her fists in an equally alert stance. With an approving hum, the Cra had to admit her form was very good. 

Those thoughts were quickly interrupted when, instead of voicing her consent, the Divine Doll just shot forward, moving her arm in a sweeping motion as she summoned a veritable wall of rambles out of the ground and towards the Eliatrope master. At first, it looked like her efforts would be futile, as Master Glip simply teleported himself away and, even with the viney wall erected between them, all he needed was yet another portal to close the distance. However, both the Wakfung master and their expectant audience were visibly surprised when he jumped out of a portal and right next to where the doll should be, only to realise she was nowhere to be found. 

All around her, the Eliatrope children gushed in murmured whispers, wondering how it was possible that a Divine Doll, someone who lacked their mastery of wakfu, could just disappear like that. Thanks to her enhanced senses, Evangelyne was the first to figure out the truth. Emerald eyes glowing as she scanned the area, she was the only one who realised Lady Amalia didn’t disappear, at least, not really—the only reason she erected the wall in the first place was to find cover. 

It didn’t take long for Master Glip himself to realise he’d been lured into a trap. 

With a leap, the doll jumped out of her hiding place, hovering over a wide-eyed Eliatrope and clapping her hands to summon her next trick up her non-existent sleeve. But Master Glip wasn’t the teacher for nothing. Whatever Lady Amalia had been planning on throwing at him was derailed by her master blasting at her with a wakfu beam that forced her to change plans at the last minute. 

Instead of completing her original attack, she hastily motioned for one of her vines to intercept the blast. Her focus broken and the resulting explosion altering the course of her trajectory, the doll was left with no choice but to roll over herself and the floor to avoid as much damage as possible, but even so, skidding on the earthy terrain must have smarted nonetheless, judging from the way she winced as she finally found her footing again from her hunched down position. 

Evangelyne was on her feet in seconds, her every protective instinct screaming at her to put a stop to the training and to protect her ward from danger. But just as she was about to step out of the seating area and stride into the pit, a humongous beige paw being placed right in front of her stopped her dead in her tracks. With a quiet gasp, she turned to glare at Master Baltazar, silently demanding an explanation from the dragon whom the kids were currently using as their very own perch as they watched the battle. 

All he did was smile with a knowing kindness at her. 

“Not so fast, Miss Evangelyne.” He cautioned gently, yet not any less firmly. “Do not forget my brother has the last say on when the training session ends.” 

“With all due respect, Master Baltazar, but it is my duty to ensure Lady Amalia’s safety. If I deem this exercise to be too dangerous for her, I am well within my rights to try and stop it.” 

The bodyguard had a very good guess that in doing so she would not get any closer to earning Master Glip’s approval, but at that point she quite frankly didn’t care. She was assigned to look after Lady Amalia, and with Cra as her witness, that was what she was going to do. 

Which was why the dragon’s next comment completely disarmed her. 

“Lady Amalia came to us for a reason. She chose to be mentored under Glip’s wing, ironic as it is.” A wry grin drew itself unto his maw as his own tiny wings fluttered for emphasis. “You should have more faith in her; you’d be surprised by what she can do.”

Evangelyne looked at the bearded dragon and back to the makeshift battlefield, her fists clenching at her sides as both arguments battled for dominance in her own mind. She had been instilled to serve her assigned ward at all costs since she was very young, and Lady Amalia was simply too important to allow a simple exercise to cause her harm. And yet…

Her emerald gaze fell back on the scene before her, taking it all in. 

Her original plan thwarted, Master Glip seemed to have Lady Amalia up against the proverbial ropes, with his barrage of wakfu bolts forcing the doll to dart all over the circular space in a vain attempt to avoid being hit—but there was only so much you could do when running around a circle; you were bound to get caught eventually. 

Once again, Evangelyne felt the urge to send everything to Shukrute and jump in the moment a particularly powerful blast seemed like it was about to collide against the Sadida Doll, who could only raise her forearms as means to protect herself. Fast as lightning, the Cra drew her bow, at the verge of shooting an arrow to intercept the wakfu beam, when one of Lady Amalia’s Sadida dolls, the very same ones who’d been helping her with her garden just the other day, popped out of the ground and got in between the attack and its mistress, effectively shielding Lady Amalia from it. 

As soon as the smoke cleared, the little rag doll emerged holding a crouched down position, and looking as deceptively unscathed as its creator. The Eliatrope kids all exploded into applause at the development, and, the blonde noted with surprise, even Master Glip seemed quite pleased with the direction the fight was taking. 

He confirmed as such almost immediately after.

“I see you’re finally introducing your dolls into battle.” He smirked approvingly.

Although she didn’t ease up her guarded posture for a second, something in the doll softened at the praise. “I figured it was about time. I just needed to work out some kinks.”

“It’s always good to see my students actually taking my advice. Relying too much on your vines would have made you a predictable target, so this is a vast improvement.” Evangelyne flinched, taken aback by the sudden intensity behind his dark gaze. “But do not think even for a second a nifty little trick is going to be enough to take me down.”

“Oh, I didn’t doubt it for a second.” She practically purred. 

Sharing one last glance with Master Baltazar, his bright blue eyes glinting knowingly down at her, the Cra finally sat back down and limited herself to watching the remaining sparring session with rapt attention. 

Now that she had her doll by her side, Lady Amalia could outmanoeuvre Master Glip’s beams much more easily as she sent her creation to take the hit whenever simple artful dodging wouldn’t cut it. Not to say she stayed behind and remained solely on the defensive in any way, though, because she also took every opportunity available to summon vines to attack Master Glip with. For his part, the Wakfung master was also doing an exemplary job at parrying each blow with either a masterful spin of his cane, or by jumping in and out of his portals. 

After a while where the two of them seemed to have reached an impasse, Lady Amalia seemed to have had enough. Even though it probably went unnoticed by everyone else, the Cra didn’t miss the way she toyed with something in her hand, letting out a loud gasp when she finally recognised it as a very special kind of seed she had been helping her grow the last few days. 

“Is Lady Amalia really planning on testing her explosive dolls now?!” She thought to herself, mildly scandalised. 

However, before she had a chance to do anything, Master Glip seemed to take notice as well and—wait, was he smirking?!— chose that very moment to announce the exercise had come to an end. 

“That will be all, Lady Amalia. You did an astounding job today, thank you.” He declared, changing his offensive position into a more neutral stance as easily as breathing even as he held a hand out to the doll. 

Soon enough, she mimicked him, the seed long forgotten as she bowed down in respect to him. “That is an honour coming from you, Master Glip. Thank you.”

“Yes, well, I figured your bluff about blowing us all up with one of your explosive dolls was as good a sign as any.” 

Wait, did he just make a joke?

Even more surprisingly, the Divine Doll giggled, her cheeks flushing sheepishly. “Guilty as charged.”

“It was all a bluff?!” For a moment, Evangelyne felt like passing out.

“Nevertheless,” the teacher continued, pointedly ignoring the Cra’s gaping mouth. “I speak nothing but the truth when I say you have made vast improvements as of late, my Lady. You don’t rely on your vines as much as you used to, and I am sure in due time you will be an unstoppable force. Be very proud of yourself.”

Despite the last remnants of her shock, the doll’s lady-in-waiting couldn’t help the fond smile that drew itself unto her lips at the beaming grin that practically split her ward’s face in two. With moved, watery eyes, Lady Amalia bowed down to her master and uttered a sincere ‘thank you’ one last time before returning to her seat. 

When she unceremoniously plopped herself down next to Evangelyne, the Divine Doll shot her an impish grin. “So, what do you think, Evangelyne? Not bad, huh?”

The Cra absolutely refused to admit she’d been at the verge of passing out or interrupting her fight out of sheer overzealous concern, her ears flushing at the mere thought. So instead she just offered her mistress a polite smile. “I must admit it is not every day one gets to see a fabled Divine Doll in action.”

Much to her consternation, Lady Amalia only laughed at her observation. 

“Tell that to the kids.” She said, jabbing a thumb at the children behind her, who proved her point by gushing over ‘how cool’ she’d been. “Whenever we’re not learning new moves or training on dummies, Master Glip has us do exhibitions like this one.” After a brief pause, she added wistfully, “Sometimes, Yugo and Adamaï will come to have exhibitions of their own against Master Glip and Baltazar, too.”

“Wait, really?” 

The doll hummed with a lazy nod. 

“That is correct.” Master Baltazar confirmed from their left, causing both young women to look up at him. “Although Baltazar must insist it is not a fair fight; unlike his siblings, he is a dedicated scholar. It is not Baltazar’s fault if he and Glip lose a match against two skilled warriors!”

The two women exchanged stunned glances at the dragon’s outburst. Apparently, their exhibition matches against King Yugo and Master Adamaï were a sore subject. 

Evangelyne was about to break the awkward silence when the surly dragon’s brother called out to her, halting all thought processes. The blonde turned slowly, very slowly, in the direction of the Eliatrope. When she noticed the bitter frown on his face as he remained with a hand on his hip while the other gripped his cane tightly, one foot tapping on the ground impatiently, she immediately stood to attention. Flashbacks from her time at the Cra training grounds guiding her movements like muscle memory. 

“Y-yes, Master Glip?” She asked uncertainly, clearing her suddenly very dry throat. 

She shot one questioning look at Lady Amalia, who only shrugged helplessly, at as much of a loss as her. That wasn’t reassuring at all.

Unimpressed, Master Glip just raised an eyebrow. “Well? What are you waiting for, an invitation?” He asked rhetorically before motioning at her to move forward with an enthusiastic wave of his hand. “Come over here already!”

She was about to refuse when the Divine Doll’s gaze told her that not complying would only make it worse, so, with a deep, resigned sigh, the bodyguard reluctantly trudged into the pit. She figured her little stunt from earlier didn’t go unnoticed and she was about to be reprimanded for daring to even think about interrupting his sparring session with Lady Amalia, so she opened her mouth to voice an apology and—.

“I sure hope you Cra are better combatants than spectators, because that little show from earlier was just insulting.”

…and she blinked repeatedly in clear disbelief. 

“I’m sorry, what?”

Master Glip remained nonplussed, as if he hadn’t just potentially dropped a Rogue’s bomb on her. 

“I am formally requesting you partake in a sparring match of your own against me, Miss Evangelyne.”

Huh, would you look at that? He just did it again. 

Words failed the Cra. Try as she might, she kept floundering as she looked for a suitable excuse to escape from the uncomfortable reality of having to fight the one Council member who’d expressed his dislike at the idea of an outsider stepping on his toes. Lady Amalia was a Sadida demigoddess, and one who held the key to a prosperous future for their race at that, but Evangelyne wasn’t. There was no guarantee that Master Glip would actually go easy on her.

Not like she needed or even appreciated to have her skills undermined in any way, but she still knew her limits, and she sincerely doubted she’d be able to go toe to toe with a master in a kind of martial arts she knew very little about in an actual fight. 

“Well, um, you see, Master Glip…” She stammered. “You honour me with this request, but I don’t know if it’d be appropriate to fight you—.”

“You could have fooled me, judging by the way you were so eager to interrupt my mock duel with Lady Amalia just a moment ago.” He shut her up, his eyes narrowing in disapproval in a way that had the Cra flushing in embarrassment like back when she was a little girl being reprimanded by her superiors. 

Surprisingly, the goateed Eliatrope apparently noticed he was making her uncomfortable and, even more shockingly, seemed to relent. He sighed. “It is really not that big a deal, Miss Evangelyne. My only desire is to test the Cra’s legendary precision with a bow with my own two eyes. I am simply requesting you indulge my curiosity, that’s all.”

But Evangelyne still wasn’t too sure. In spite of her previous recklessness when she believed Lady Amalia was in danger, she had no desire to showcase her abilities so soon. Despite their generally affable nature and seeming kind-heartedness, she still wasn’t sure what to make of the Eliatropes. The peaceful and welcoming society hosting her was nothing like the rumours she heard about their king being a powerful and formidable opponent capable of defeating several skilled warriors of almost all races single-handedly. In fact, if she hadn’t seen what an angry King Yugo could do with her own two eyes, she never would have guessed he was the same infamous alien monarch that effortlessly beat their world’s best fighters.  

And yet, a part of Evangelyne still waited for the other foot to drop, and that very same part understood showing all her cards would do her no favours if the Eliatropes were only faking their kindness. 

“Evangelyne!” 

Her head shot up in surprise at the sound of her name being called. 

Turning her head to the side, she found Lady Amalia standing from her seat and calling out to her, her hands over her mouth acting like a megaphone. Despite the ridiculousness of the situation, her tone was reassuring. “You’ve got nothing to be afraid of! It’s just a mock duel; the goal is precisely to showcase your skills without anyone getting hurt!”

The Cra was about to call back to her and explain that wasn’t what she was worried about when the doll continued, undeterred, “Besides, have you already forgotten your promise?”

Truth be told, the blonde had no idea what she was even talking about. 

Her face must have shown it, because Lady Amalia rushed out to clarify with a knowing smirk, “You promised you’d help the Eliatropes learn more about Cra society. What better way to help them understand a society where the bow and arrow are sacred than by seeing an archer such as yourself in action?”

Her words struck Evangelyne who, after a moment of stunned silence, could only admit defeat. She did promise she’d help them understand her people, didn’t she? And what kind of Cra worth their salt would ever turn down an opportunity to show why archery was the superior fighting style?

Huffing out a laugh, she turned to look back at the awaiting Wakfung master, a confident glint in her eyes as she drew her bow, her fingers already pulling at the strings. “Ready when you are, Master Glip.”

He smirked right back. “Way ahead of you.”

And, just like that, their duel began. 

True to her people’s reputation, Evangelyne’s arm moved at lightning speed, tensing and letting go of her bow’s string in the blink of an eye as she summoned and released three magical arrows made out of golden light. She tsked her tongue at her opponent’s completely nonchalant attitude, her frustration mounting when he reminded her precisely why using projectiles against an Eliatrope was pointless. Master Glip made no move to dodge her barrage, he simply materialised three different portals with a snap of his fingers, masterfully altering the course of their trajectory so he remained unscathed. 

A portal opened a few ways away from them, the arrow that passed through exploding harmlessly against the ground. Another collided against a tree, unbeknownst to them, causing the Sadida Doll to grimace at the phantom pain. But when the Wakfung master deliberately turned the last one against Evangelyne, who was forced to hastily roll out of the way with a jolt, that was when the archer truly felt insulted. 

As she stood up from the ground, a plan began to materialise inside her strategic mind. Those first shots had been pretty standard; a mere ploy to test Master Glip’s skill now that he wasn’t facing off against one of his students, hence why she didn’t dare use any of her people’s trick arrows yet. But if the Wakfung master was going to go all out from the very beginning, Evangelyne was not about to be left behind. 

Her emerald eyes momentarily locked with Lady Amalia’s watching brown ones, and the proverbial bulbshroom lit up in her mind. Much like the doll, if she wanted to have even an inkling of hope of winning this duel, she needed some time to come up with a foolproof plan. 

And she knew just how to get it. 

In a split second decision, the Cra shot forward and straight for the Eliatrope, who looked taken aback for a moment, right before regaining his composure and steadying his own stance. Palms glowing blue, he shot several wakfu bolts in quick succession in the blonde’s direction in an effort to slow her down. 

Evangelyne smirked. That was exactly what she’d been hoping for. 

Skidding to a halt, her boots kicking up dust with the abrupt stop, she drew her bow and shot a single arrow, willing her magic to divide it into one for every blast coming her way in a burst of golden light. Her aim struck true, as it was bound to do, and her projectiles met their target head-on, the resulting explosion unleashing a puff of thick, dark smoke that covered the area. 

Much like Lady Amalia had done with her vines, Evangelyne took her chance and used the smokescreen as cover. With a little luck, that’d give her a few minutes to think about a good plan to take Master Glip down with. 

The whooshing sound of an energy beam sliding through the smokescreen and straight at her cut through her thoughts like a knife. 

With a yelp, she darted out of the way, narrowly avoiding having her platinum blonde bangs singed by the blast. 

“What on Cra’s name…?” She whispered in disbelief. 

How did Master Glip manage to send a beam in her direction with such precision?! They were still surrounded by a thick layer of smoke, and she was nothing if not an expert at stealth. Evangelyne’s nimble, measured movements could make a Sram jealous! Even her breaths were even and controlled, her steps quiet as a Meow Meow’s. So how—?!

Her questions were answered by two unnerving lights shining blue through the smoke, sending goosebumps all over fair skin as her ears perked up in alamr. Acting on instinct, she shot an arrow at her mysterious assailant. A circular flash of turquoise told her it didn’t hit its mark. 

“Something you should know about us, Eliatropes, Miss Evangelyne.” Master Glip’s voice crooned from somewhere around her, and the archer relaxed somewhat. But not enough. After all, that only meant her opponent still had the upper hand despite her best efforts. “Is that our power over wakfu isn’t limited to opening portals or beaming energy blasts… No, it means that as long as you have wakfu or stasis coursing through your body, we’ll be able to find you no matter where you are.”

Although Evangelyne could feel the shock at the revelation threatening to slow her movements, she pushed that away with a resolute shake of her head. Thinking fast, she stored her bow away into its case and cartwheeled out of the way of Master Glip’s next attack, earning herself a chorus of ‘ooooh’s and ‘ahhh’s from the mesmerised children (and Lady Amalia), who couldn’t tear their eyes off her acrobatics. 

As soon as she’d put enough distance between them, she pulled her weapon out once again and fired in quick succession. “If that is true, then how come you didn’t use your powers to find Lady Amalia when she erected that wall for cover?”

“Now that she mentions it, she’s right? Why didn’t Master Glip use his wakfu vision when sparring with me?” Her elven-like ears picked up on Lady Amalia wondering aloud.

“Wakfu vision. So that’s what it’s called.” 

Unfortunately for the blonde, she wasn’t sure knowing the name of that particular technique was going to do her any good. 

This time, instead of intercepting her arrows, the Eliatrope simply teleported himself away. The Cra couldn’t help but crane her neck in equal parts wonder and concern as she watched him soar through the sky above them. With one last elegant somersault in mid-air, he finally landed a few metres away from her, his hand gripping onto the twisted end of his cane before leaping one more time to straighten himself up on top of it. 

“Because, powerful demigoddess or not, Lady Amalia is still my student.” The Wakfung master answered sincerely, not a tinge of sarcasm in his voice. “Despite her vast potential, she still has much to learn before she can face me on equal ground.” When the doll harrumphed in displeasure, he actually flashed her an apologetic smile. But his hardening glare bore down into her lady-in-waiting, who had to fight down the urge to flinch under his intensity. “You, on the other hand, Miss Evangelyne, introduce yourself as a seasoned warrior capable of protecting her. I believe it is only natural I wouldn’t be so inclined to hold back against you.”

“So it would seem, Master Glip.” The Cra said, her voice betraying nothing. 

She let out a yelp, caught off guard, when the short man willed a portal into existence right beneath her feet and sent her all the way over to the opposite corner of the arena. Falling down with a loud thud!, the Cra did everything in her power to keep the bile down as her lunch threatened to make a reappearance. With a shudder at the displeasurable experience, she scowled, baring her teeth at the infuriatingly smug teacher perched over his comically big staff. 

“No more Miss Nice Girl, Eva.”

Changing tactics, she summoned her ice arrows in hopes of slowing her adversary down. Judging by his initially surprised reaction, it was safe to say it worked. Especially when they actually connected with him and his encased form plunged into the ground after an unsuccessful escape attempt. Only his head and the arm holding his staff remained free. 

“You should have tried teleporting yourself away, Master Glip.” The blonde couldn’t help but taunt, an eyebrow raised in amusement. It soon morphed into a suspicious frown when all the trapped Eliatrope did was smirk back at her. 

“Oh, I have many more tricks up my sleeve, my dear.”

Before the archer had the chance to do anything about it, Master Glip twirled his staff in the air, and it began to glow. They all watched, completely speechless, as the wooden cane broke away to reveal a wakfu staff underneath. Paralysed from shock, all Evangelyne could do was watch as her opponent brought his weapon down against his icy prison and broke free after a single, well-placed hit, remnants of ice flying in all directions like hail. 

Then, he lunged at her. 

Their remaining duel went like that for a while. With Evangelyne sometimes gaining the upper hand thanks to her elaborate strategies and the many tricks up her sleeve her magic arrows provided her with, while Master Glip managed to successfully circumvent them all thanks to his mastery over wakfu and martial arts. At one point, he effortlessly parried a veritable barrage of golden arrows with nothing but his cane; the result was akin to fireworks. 

Her patience coming to an end, the Cra was about ready to finally put an end to the battle as well by unleashing her most powerful blow. If that didn’t keep the Eliatrope down, nothing would. But just as she’d made up her mind, her concentration dedicated almost in its entirety on summoning her pushback arrow, a tap on her shoulder stopped her dead in her tracks. 

With a gasp, she turned her head back, bright green eyes widening at the pleased way Master Glip was smiling at her from atop his cane. When did he even get there?!

“I think that’s enough for today.” If possible, his grin only widened at the astonishment on her face. “Thank you for indulging me like this, Miss Evangelyne. And thank you for all your hard work; I have no doubt in my mind that Lady Amalia is in good hands.”

And just like that, the weirdest, most intense duel in Evangelyne’s life came to an abrupt end.

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

“You were just toying with her.” Baltazar slid up next to his brother as they bid all the children goodbye for the day. “You never once doubted Miss Evangelyne could take care of Lady Amalia.”

Glip just shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Brother.”

And yet, his dark eyes never strayed far from the retreating forms of the Divine Doll and her Cra bodyguard. 

“You merely wished to test your skills against an outsider—to experience what it's like to fight a Twelvian.” The dragon said knowingly, his bright blue eyes narrowing down on his twin. 

“Feel free to think whatever you like, Baltazar.” He waved him off, turning back around in order to store the training equipment away. Just as he and Baltazar were busy hoisting up some training dummies, however, he turned his head towards his brother, a mischievous glint in his eye. 

“Then again, I may or may not have glimpsed into her wakfu when she first introduced herself to us in order to gouge her true nature. And I may or may not have learned then Miss Evangelyne is actually good-natured.”

He smirked. 

“Who knows?”

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

A few days after Evangelyne’s match against Master Glip, Lady Amalia had taken her to the palace’s surrounding area. They ended up spending so much time on her balcony, either in King Yugo’s company or by themselves, that the Cra couldn’t help but feel like she knew the doll’s beloved jungle by heart by now, even though she’d never even stepped foot in it. But Lady Amalia loved gazing at the greenery bordering the building and telling her lady-in-waiting about the countless living organisms that quite literally flourished there so much, it was as if they were constantly going out on expeditions.

She made the mistake of saying that allegory aloud one day and suddenly there was no changing the doll’s mind. The two of them were going to spend some time outside the palace that didn’t involve going to the village.

Given how overprotective King Yugo and the vast majority of the Council of Six seemed to be of Lady Amalia, Evangelyne originally expected them to refuse. To her endless surprise, His Majesty welcomed the idea with open arms. He was actually quite disappointed that their talks over the Zaap Portals would keep him from joining them. Not even Master Adamaï could spare some time. 

Needless to say, Lady Amalia had been ecstatic, even though she clearly lamented not getting to spend more time with the man she so ‘secretly’ loved. She kept gushing over how, now that Evangelyne acted as her bodyguard, she had more freedom than ever. 

“I’m telling you, Evangelyne. It’s been so long since I last got to visit Oma’s jungle!” She said as she summoned a large vine from down her balcony to safely place them at ground level. After expertly jumping down from it, her lady-in-waiting close behind, she added, almost as an afterthought. “Now that I think about it, I don’t even remember the last time I got to do anything on my own that isn’t walking around the palace or training at the village.”

Evangelyne furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

The doll shrugged. “When I first arrived, I wasn’t really allowed to move around without Yugo or even Adamaï present. You know, since I was new and all… But a few weeks back I started getting the feeling that, wherever I went, a member of the Council or the guard would be there with me.” She scrunched up her nose in thought. “Weird, huh?”

“Yes, weird…” The Cra muttered in agreement, her green eyes narrowed as she picked up the pace to keep up with the Divine Doll. 

As her ward guided her to a clearing not too deep in the jungle, willing the leaves and vines in their path to step back with her mere presence for easier access, Evangelyne couldn’t help but remark on the oddity of Lady Amalia’s restricted access to Oma Island.

She could understand the Council not feeling comfortable with letting a newcomer—especially one as important as she was—roam free. Anything could happen, after all. But for them to seemingly double down on their surveillance of her after months of living together? Despite the fact that she seemed to be almost universally beloved by the island’s inhabitants? 

Now that was just fishy. 

Not for the first time, the Cra wondered about their quick acceptance of her presence in their territory. Even if the Council’s end goal was to appease the Sadida by giving in to their request, it hadn’t escaped Evangelyne’s attention that they all seemed to be… relieved by the fact that she would stick close to Lady Amalia day and night. 

One thing was being gracious hosts, and another, very different thing was whatever that was going on around here. 

Could she have been right all along? Did the Council of Six have a bigger reason for accepting her as the Divine Doll’s bodyguard beyond trying to form an alliance with the Sheran Sharms or even get in Cra’s good graces? Could it be that Lady Amalia was in danger?

“Sup. What’cha doin’?”

Evangelyne was startled out of her thoughts by the unexpected voice. Her mind going on override, instincts kicking in, she jumped from her position, sat down with her legs tucked underneath her, and pulled out her bow. An energy arrow at the ready and aiming at the potential attacker. 

It took her an embarrassingly long second to realise the ‘potential attacker’ she was currently threatening was actually Lady Nora. The pink-eyed girl looked just as alarmed by her outburst as Lady Amalia, her palms raised up in supplication. 

“Whoa, there!” She exclaimed, visibly nervous. “I see asking about what you’re up to is a trigger. Duly noted. Won’t happen again. Now, would you please be so kind as to pull away the bow, Evangelyne?”

The Cra blinked once. Twice. Thrice before letting out a loud squeak and rushing to bow down before the Council member, her face was so flushed, even the tip of her ears was red. 

“I am so sorry, Your Grace!” She promised, not raising her face to look her in the eye. “I did not know that was you; I was merely distracted and you took me by surprise, my apologies.”

With a rapid blink of her own, Nora’s shocked expression broke into a mischievous smirk. She honestly didn’t expect the unflappable bombshell to be so funny when she got flustered. A part of her knew she was about to be unnecessarily mean, but she rationalised it by saying the Cra almost put an early end to her current reincarnation, so a little payback was due. 

“My, my, my.” She tsked her tongue in mock disapproval. “You were distracted, you say, Evangelyne? Can’t say that’s the kind of attitude I expected from a reputed bodyguard such as yourself.” She pointed down at Amalia. “Especially when we’re putting our dear Amalia’s life in your hands…”

“You are absolutely correct, my Lady. I promise I’ll do better in the future.”

“Nora, stop!” Amalia, who remained sat down on the ground, chided the pink-clad Eliatrope, who only broke down laughing in turn. With a huff and a roll of her eyes, the doll reached out for Evangelyne’s shoulder, making her look into her compassionate brown eyes. “Don’t listen to her. She’s a menace. Even Yugo’s constantly complaining about how much she loves to push his buttons. You’re doing a great job, Evangelyne.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.” Lady Nora agreed once she got her laughter under control. Her voice didn’t lose its sardonic tinge, but her expression was softer now. 

Although, truth be told, when she slid next to her to snake an arm over her shoulders and squeeze her tight, Evangelyne was beginning to miss her previous strictness. 

“I was just pulling your leg, don’t worry. Though, I will say, I am a little surprised you didn’t see me coming. I mean, I literally just jumped out of a square, glowing portal. Don’t you Cra have enhanced senses or something?”

Fortunately for Evangelyne, she was spared from having to come up with an excuse that didn’t reveal the true reason behind her distracted state by Lady Amalia. 

“Knock it off, Nora. It’s not like she didn’t have better things to think about—like this beautiful jungle!” She gestured all around them with both hands and stars in her eyes. “If it were me, I would also be so lost in its lushness, that a portal wouldn’t even be a bleep on my radar.”

Lady Nora shot Evangelyne an unimpressed look that told her she highly doubted she had simply been enraptured by the surrounding vegetation, but she didn’t say anything. So the blonde just decided to go with that. 

“Yeah, that’s exactly it.” She said at last, cursing herself for how unconvincing she sounded. “Lady Amalia has told me so much about this jungle, that it’s great to finally put a face to… um, the plants…?” She finished lamely. 

“Right.” Was the pink-eyed Eliatrope’s monotone response. She crossed her arms and regarded her with detached curiosity. “You guys don’t have plants back where you’re from?”

“Um, I’m from the Sadida Kingdom. Plants are the one thing we have plenty of.”

But she just shook her head, her light pink bangs following the movement. 

“No, no. I’m not talking about the Sadida Kingdom. I’m talking about where you come from.”

“I… I’m not sure I follow.” The lady-in-waiting tilted her head in confusion. 

“You know, where you come from.” Lady Nora pressed on, gesturing with her hands as if that was supposed to help. “Don’t you have plants in Cra territory or what?”

Oh. 

Oh. 

“To tell you the truth, Your Grace,” she started tentatively, not sure why she was suddenly feeling self-conscious over something that had always been a part of her. “I haven’t really been to the Cra Citadel…”

“What?!” Lady Amalia exclaimed, at the same time as Lady Nora mused aloud, “Oooooh, so it is a citadel, not a kingdom.”

The Eliatrope woman flinched when the Divine Doll shot her a dirty look that said ‘really, Nora?’ 

She just shrugged sheepishly. “I was just curious to know if all nations here organised themselves into kingdoms or if they actually possessed states under different political organisations.”

“Don’t make me side with Yugo over your disagreements from now on.” The doll drawled. When she focused her attention back on her bodyguard, her sour look cleared into a mix between curiosity and pity that made Evangelyne’s skin crawl. “With that out the way, how is it possible that you have never been to your people’s territory, Evangelyne?”

Feeling uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking, the Cra tried to push all that aside to answer as calmly as she could, focusing instead on ignoring the knot tightening in her stomach under the two girls’ undivided attention. Like a crumpled piece of paper one throws away. 

“As you already know, I was actually raised in the Sadida Kingdom, not the Cra Citadel.”

“Yes, but the Sadida are Sadida, and you’re a Cra!”

“Thank you for that acute observation, Amalia…” 

The doll just shook her head. “No, Nora, I mean, as you know, my father’s followers specialise in summoning plants and crafting Sadida dolls. Cra are skilled archers. Even if archery were taught to our soldiers, Evangelyne shouldn’t have been able to hone her skills as efficiently as among her people.”

“You’re not necessarily wrong…” She conceded. “But you seem to be forgetting how you’re one of Sadida’s Divine Dolls, yet you’re training under Glip, an Eliatrope.”

Lady Amalia opened her mouth to retort, and promptly shut it. 

“Touché.”

“While those are all some very interesting observations,” Evangelyne chimed in abruptly, her voice an octave higher. She figured it was high time she intervened lest they risked wasting all day on their back and forth. “However, you seem to be forgetting that I’m hardly the only Cra living in the Sadida Kingdom.” A pause. “Well, until now, of course.”

“But you were the only one we’ve ever seen there. Every other Cra we’ve ever met, few as they may be, came from the Citadel alongside the Matriarch.” Lady Nora was quick to point out, Lady Amalia vehemently nodding from the ground. 

The Cra in question had to stifle a laugh. “Trust me, there are way more Cra in the Sadida Kingdom; they’re just stationed at the outskirts, keeping watch.”

“And that explains why you’ve never been to your ancestral home? Or why you’re so good with your bow despite growing up surrounded by Sadida?” The Sadida Doll asked. 

She nodded. “As I said, I was far from being the only Cra in Sadida territory; we actually have our own training grounds! That’s why I was able to practice with the bow under Cra standards even away from home.”

“And you’ve never wanted to go to the Citadel?” Lady Nora pressed, coming to sit cross-legged besides their green-haired companion. “Not even for a day or two to satiate your curiosity?”

“Not really. The thing is, once the newest recruits have graduated from their training, they’re given the choice to remain in the Sadida Kingdom or to join the troops back home, but I declined. I always felt more comfortable right where I was. My sister, on the other hand…” She rolled her eyes with a frustrated scoff. “By Cra, Cleo couldn’t sign up fast enough.”

It was only after the words left her mouth that she realised her mistake. 

“Cleo?”

“You have a sister?”

Evangelyne instantly clamped up. She had no desire to divulge her personal life. She was Lady Amalia’s bodyguard and lady-in-waiting, her duties were protecting and assisting her with anything she may need first and foremost. She wasn’t there to fraternise with her ward and mistress. Besides, Lady Amalia couldn’t possibly be that interested in her servant’s personal life. Surely, she was only asking because it’d come off as a shock.

Nothing more, nothing less. 

“Isn’t it great, Nora? Turns out, we all have sisters!” She gleefully told the pink-clad Eliatrope, who seemed to be considering something. The Boowolf grin that stretched her lips a moment later sent a knot at the pit of the Cra’s stomach, causing it to churn in unease. “Oh, Evangelyne! You simply must tell us more about her!”

Okay, or maybe she was wrong and Lady Amalia was that interested in her servant’s personal life. 

Absolutely not. If the blonde was already reticent about talking about her personal life, then no way in Shukrute would she tell them anything about Cleophée. Cra above, even when she was kilometres away, her sister still managed to be a thorn in her side. 

Now that was dedication to the bit. 

“With all due respect, my Lady, I highly doubt that’d be appropriate.”

“Appropriate?” The doll’s eager smile faded into a concerned frown. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re my mistress, the person I serve.” She gestured between the two of them, trying to make the green-haired girl see reason. “There are lines that should not be crossed between us, and my sharing personal information is one of them.” Then, she huffed a laugh, one eyebrow raised in scepticism. “Worry not, your grace, I know you don’t actually care about my life, you don’t have to ask about it just to be polite.”

Lady Amalia looked stricken by her words, alternating between opening and closing her outstretched hand uselessly, until she let it drop on her lap. The Cra could only watch curiously as her bark-coloured face scrunched up with an emotion she couldn’t quite place, her hands now fisting on her lap as she bit down her lip. Even Lady Nora was looking at her with a touch of concern in her magenta eyes. 

She placed a hand on hers. “Amalia—.”

“I would just like to correct you on one little thing, Evangelyne. If you don’t mind.”

The Cra jolted a little at the hardness in her otherwise sweet voice, and even Lady Nora flinched away from her touch in surprise. Gulping slightly, her unease mounting, she ventured, “Uh… Yes, of course, my Lady. What is it?”

Suddenly, she knew what Princess Aurora must have felt when she made the mistake of enraging Her Grace. 

“Don’t you ever say I don’t care about your life again.” She told her seriously, her dark brown eyes boring into her green ones with a fierceness seldom seen in her. “I’m not asking just to be polite, I’m asking because I genuinely want to get to know you. Don’t you forget it.”

Her words felt like a slap on the face. One so strong, it almost sent Evangelyne physically reeling. In spite of her baffled gaze, the Cra could feel shame colouring her freckled cheeks. 

A heavy silence reigned over them for a while. Nothing but the sound of the breeze rustling through the leaves. The bodyguard pushed through her embarrassment to look her mistress back in the eye, and immediately flinched at the anger and hurt she saw glistening in her irises. Trying to alleviate the tight knot in her stomach, she turned her green gaze back to Lady Nora, but even her pink depths held a certain sadness, as well as sympathy. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been expecting Her Grace’s outburst. 

“Oh… I… I’m sorry. I-I didn’t think—.”

But, before she could get another word out, the doll interrupted again. Only this time with a sigh.

“No, wait, I’m sorry, Evangelyne.” Lady Amalia said, rubbing her temple with one hand. By that point, the blonde just wanted out of this emotional rollercoaster she found herself in. 

But the sincerity behind the Divine Doll’s big, doe-like eyes kept her from saying anything. If anything, it only rooted her to the spot, encouraging her to listen to what she had to say. 

“I apologise if I’ve been too… intense, with my questions.” She smiled awkwardly, sheepishly rubbing the side of her face while her other hand nervously tucked an emerald strand behind her ear. “I guess I got carried away. Much like the Eliatropes, I haven’t had many chances to interact with the gods’ followers besides Sadida’s, so I suppose I was so curious to know more, I didn’t take into consideration that I could be making you uncomfortable.

“It’s just…” She stopped talking then, her lips pursed into a thin line. Lady Nora was about to try and reach out to her again when she finally managed to find the words. “It’s just that I thought that, since we’re going to be spending a lot of time together from now on, it would be nice to get to know each other. That’s all.” All of a sudden, her expression darkened again, making it clear her lady-in-waiting wasn’t off the hook just yet. “But I meant what I said. I really want to get to know you, Evangelyne. It has nothing to do with me being polite; I just appreciate you.”

“Yeah, ditto here.” Lady Nora added, rubbing the back of her head in a way that reminded the Cra of His Majesty. “Sorry if I was too much of a brat earlier. I’m just a menace like that. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Mouth gaping as she stared back and forth between the two women in front of her, Evangelyne couldn’t help but avert her gaze in shame, her bangs obscuring her flushing freckled face. Lady Amalia was right. Even if she had been a little too intense, they were going to be together all the time from now on. It only made sense if she wanted to at least get to know the person who’d be acting as her shadow in the unforeseeable future. 

“My apologies, my Ladies.” She said at last, her voice uncharacteristically quiet yet with conviction. “I shouldn’t have assumed you were just being nice for the sake of it. I suppose I’m still getting used to things not abiding by a strict protocol like back in the Sadida Kingdom.”

“But everyone was so laid-back, even the king! What are you even talking about—oomph!”

Evangelyne had to stifle a laugh at the way the Divine Doll elbowed the Eliatrope girl in her side. Hard.

“It’s alright, Lady Amalia. Lady Nora is right—the Sadida are known for being fairly welcoming and easygoing.”

“Then how is it you seem so high-strung all the time?” The doll asked, earning herself a pink-tinted glare from the girl next to her (who was still nursing her side) for her own complete lack of tact. 

But the Cra just snorted. “For a multitude of reasons, actually.” She scooted closer to them, the other two following her example as they leaned forward in curiosity. “For starters, I am a Cra. Even if I was raised in the Sadida Kingdom, I still interacted with my people enough to know how we must carry ourselves. And we tend to be a bit…” She trailed off, trying to find the correct word. 

“Prideful? Irritable? Stuck-up?” Were some of Lady Amalia’s suggestions. 

“And I got an elbow to my ribs just for saying Sadida are laid-back?!” 

“Sorry…”

“‘Aloof.’ I was going to say ‘aloof.’” Evangelyne drawled, a small, irritated frown on her brow. Shaking her head with a roll of her eyes, she went on. “The thing is, unlike most Sadida, we take protocol very seriously, especially when dealing with figures of authority, as I was constantly doing since Cleo and I were essentially raised by King Oakheart. Then again, it’s hard not to use protocol around the royal family when the heir to the throne is as…” 

“Insufferable.”

“Arrogant.”

“Overbearing.”

“Strict as Prince Sheran Sharm.” She said at last. “One had to hold their tongue around him more often than not, especially when he was younger and rasher.”

“Huh.” Lady Nora raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she leaned back. “I would have called him something way worse than ‘strict’.” She air-quoted, and Evangelyne let out a nervous laugh. If only she knew…

“Nora.” The doll chided warningly. 

But she just sputtered, offended. 

“What? Don’t act like you don’t agree with me, Amalia, because you looked like you’d bitten down on a sour lemon if you had to stand around him for too long!”

“He’s not the worst person I can think of…” She trailed off meaningfully. 

A beat of silence, and then…

“Touché.”

“My point is,” Evangelyne said forcefully, hoping to move the conversation along. “I’m used to keeping a safe distance between my masters and I. So I guess that’s why I’ve been so standoffish with you, Lady Amalia. But this isn’t the Sadida Kingdom, and this isn’t the Cra Citadel either. I suppose it won’t hurt to be a little more open from now on?”

The Cra almost got whiplash from how fast the Divine Doll’s expression went from manic glee to quiet curiosity. “May I ask you something?”

She fought the urge to let out a full on belly laugh. “With all due respect, my Lady, that’s all you’ve been doing all day. What’s one more question at this point, right?”

“Right.” She nodded with a snicker. “Well, I’m sorry, I’m just curious, but how come you were raised by King Oakheart? What about your parents?”

The blonde knew this question was coming all along, but she was pleased to find out it wasn’t as uncomfortable a topic as she’d originally dreaded it would be. 

“To tell the truth, I don’t really know.” She shrugged. “I don’t remember my parents at all, and His Majesty never really talked about them either. All I know is that Cleo and I were very little when we were left in the care of King Oakheart, who raised us as his own ever since. Well, almost.”

“Almost?” Lady Nora echoed. 

“While he acted as our father figure, he never actually adopted us, you know? It’s not like we’re officially recognised members of the Sadida Royal Family. Sure, everybody knows who we are, and we would still have no claim to the throne when there’s already an heir who is actually older than both of us, but we’re not recognised as Princesses of the Sadida Kingdom; just the two Cra girls that grew up in the palace.

“Those were some crazy times, I’ll admit.” She added in fond remembrance, the green in her gaze glazing over. “It took me a while to figure out my place in the world. Since I grew up in the palace, I had access to the kind of privileges most people can only dream of. But, at the same time, I’m not a Sheran Sharm—my education was always veered towards serving them.”

“I seem to remember you told Yugo that you’d been acting as their bodyguard for about a decade.” Lady Nora said. “Did they also educate you to do that?”

At that, a small smile tugged at the corner of Evangelyne’s lip. 

“That was actually my own choice.” She admitted, her cheeky grin widening at the fascinated look on their faces. “As I said, I grew up surrounded by maids and stedwards teaching me how to properly serve the royal family—trust me, I’ve had to endure a lot of lectures on how I dress from Canar and Renate…” She drawled miserably, ignoring the way the doll mouthed ‘who’re Canar and Renate?’ to a shrugging Eliatrope. 

Instead, her mood brightened up again. “But it wasn’t until I started undergoing Cra compulsory training and wielded a bow for the first time that I understood that’s what I wanted to do with my life; using my skills in action.”

“But how come you came to be the royal family’s bodyguard?” Lady Amalia asked, just as invested in the story. “Such an honour is very hard to attain, I presume?”

“Oh, that was actually the easy part.” She said airily. “Like I said, I grew up in the palace —there were very few people who knew the place better than I did (especially Cra), or that could actually afford to spend all their time there. While I did have to act as a frontier guard for a year or two after graduating, as soon as I turned seventeen, the job was mine.”

“I suppose King Oakheart would be more inclined to put his life in the hands of someone he raised himself.” Lady Nora observed, hand on her chin contemplatively. 

Just then, she took her two companions by surprise, who couldn’t help but inch ever so slightly away from her in apprehension, when she was seemingly struck with realisation, her pink eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. 

“Wait, wouldn't that make Prince Armand your adoptive brother?!”

“Ugh, no! Thank Cra!” Evangelyne grimaced, her disgust at the idea perfectly obvious. She raised and waved her hands in front of her frantically. “I told you! Even if His Majesty raised us, we were never adopted into his family. If anything, Prince Armand is something more akin to a childhood friend.” And even that was a bit of a stretch.

“Yes, I imagine having to deal with His Highness on top of your actual sister might have been too much even for you.” Lady Amalia snickered playfully.

“Oh, absolutely! That would have only made his flirting with me when we were younger all the grosser!”

When she finally realised what she just said, much to her horror, it was already too late. 

The way the girls were gaping at her, eyes wide and jaws millimetres away from the floor, would have been hilarious if the topic wasn’t so awkward. 

But it was. Oh, it very much was. 

“I’m sorry, what?!” Lady Amalia screeched. 

“So he does have a type!” Lady Nora exclaimed excitedly, earning herself odd looks from the other two. 

“What?” She demanded defensively. She turned to the Divine Doll with a disbelieving face. “This isn’t news to you. We talked about this—men being very basic creatures, remember?” 

Evangelyne honestly didn’t know how to feel when the pink-wearing Eliatrope gestured at the entirety of her as if to illustrate her point. She didn’t know what she was talking about either, but she had the hunch she was better off not knowing. 

Luckily for her, it looked like Lady Amalia was equally done with the conversation, judging from the way she just rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh before focusing her attention back on her lady-in-waiting.

“Anyway… Is that true, Evangelyne? Prince Armand was in love with you?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” She nodded robotically.  

“I’m guessing you weren’t very enthused by the idea?” Lady Nora raised one sarcastic eyebrow. 

The blonde winced. “Can’t say I was…” 

Resigned to explain herself, for it had been because of her own slip of the tongue they even knew about it in the first place, Evangelyne took a deep breath and let it out in the form of a heavy sigh. She resisted the urge to wince even harder at the transfixed, almost owlishly, way they were staring at her. For a moment there, they reminded her of Renate and Canar whenever they heard some especially juicy piece of gossip. 

The comparison made her shudder as a wave of uncomfortable memories washed over her. 

“As you know, His Highness is known for his…difficult personality.” They nodded sagely, having borne witness to it. Lady Nora was about to say something else, most likely something rude, but the doll was quicker and clamped one hand over her mouth. “What you don’t know, however, is that he used to be way worse when he was younger. And by younger, I mean as late as his early twenties.”

“Somehow, I find that a little bit hard to believe.” The Divine Doll commented. 

“Well, you’d better believe it, Your Grace. Compared to how he used to be, now he’s actually matured into a fairly just leader, if quite stern still. Back then he was known for being arrogant, demanding, uncompromising… I wasn’t kidding when I said you had to watch your tongue around him. The prince was very fond of dishing out severe punishments at the slightest provocation.”

Now it was the doll’s turn to wince. “Sweet Sadida… No wonder you weren’t interested in him.”

“Yeah, he definitely isn’t winning any Miss Congeniality contests any time soon.” Lady Nora agreed dryly. 

“Believe it or not, that wasn’t even the worst part.” The lady-in-waiting admitted.

“There’s something worse than acting like a Bwork?” Lady Amalia asked, incredulous. 

“Having your breath stink like one’s.” Evangelyne shot back without missing a beat. She actually had to fight down the urge to break down laughing when both girls shuddered in disgust at the revelation.

“I almost feel bad for his wife.” Lady Nora said. “Almost.”

“This might be something weird to say aloud—.”

“Well, now, you simply must say it!”

“—but Yugo and I have had to stand close to him before, and his breath wasn’t seriously that bad?”

“That’s because he started chewing on eucalyptus leaves every morning a few years ago.” The Cra was quick to reveal. “Trust me, it made all the difference.”

“We’ll take your word for it…”

While Evangelyne and Nora chatted idly about the former’s time with the Sadida Prince as her suitor, a wayward thought made its way into Amalia’s mind, unbidden. After a moment’s consideration, she dared to venture:

“Evangelyne?”

“Yes, my Lady?”

“Would you say it was a well-known fact that His Highness was in love with you?”

“As much as it pains me to admit this, yes.” Her tone was monotone except for a pained tinge in her voice. “Back then, some people were actually rooting for us, while some others, the part of the population that wasn’t blind, apparently, understood His Highness never had a chance.

“Looking back, I feel a little bit bad for him. Especially because his unrequited feelings for me soon became the talk of the kingdom. Even now, people will bring it up now and then.” She tilted her head to the side. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, y-you know. Just curious.” Unbeknownst to the Cra, her explanation only seemed to confirm the doll’s suspicions. Her mind flashed back to the look of utter disdain Princess Aurora had regarded Evangelyne with during her introduction as her new bodyguard. She seemed so eager to get rid of her once and for all… 

Could it be that was the reason she seemed to hate the archer so? Because she heard the rumours that her husband had once had feelings for her and felt threatened by it?

“To be honest,” Evangelyne’s voice cut through her thoughts. It didn’t take her long to realise she must have been answering one of Nora’s questions. “I probably wouldn’t have been interested in him even if he were nicer. …and learned about breath mints sooner.” She shrugged. “He is just not my type.”

“Oh, and do tell,” a dangerously flirtatious smirk plastered itself onto Lady Nora’s lips, her magenta gaze turning downright seductive as she purposely slid up next to the Cra, their shoulders touching even as the latter flashed her an odd look. Wiggling her eyebrows, she all but purred, “Just what is your type, Evangelyne?”

With an amused roll of her eyes, the Cra was bold enough to shove her off of her. Both the lady-in-waiting and her mistress cackled out loud when she let out a yelp in surprise at the sudden lack of support before managing to straighten herself. The Eliatrope shot them both dirty looks. 

“Nothing you can actually latch onto, my Lady.” She playfully winked. “Besides, I already have a boyfriend.”

“Why do the best girls always have boyfriends?” Lady Nora grumbled, almost spitting the last word out in disgust. At the same time, an excited Sadida Doll asked, “You have a boyfriend?!”

Knowing better by that point than to try and salvage whatever little remained of her personal life, Evangelyne gave in with a sigh. Although, she would be lying if she said she didn’t feel the slightest bit giddy at the prospect of getting to talk about her boyfriend.

Not like she’d ever tell him that. It would only go to his head and it was already big enough with that unruly red-headed mane of his. 

“His name is Tristepin de Percedal, a knight and member of the Guardians of Shushus.”

“What is that?” Lady Nora furrowed her brow in confusion. She didn’t remember anyone mentioning anything quite like it back at Bonta or the Sadida Kingdom. 

“It’s an order of Iop knights sworn to watch over Shushus sealed inside objects and to prevent them from escaping or possessing poor, unsuspecting victims, and causing havoc. Pinpin—that’s what his friends call him, by the way—oversees a cursed sword possessed by a Shushu named Rubilax.”

“Oh, it must be a very challenging task; being forced to remain close to your enemy at all times.” Lady Amalia observed. 

She could only blink in confusion when all her bodyguard did in response was shrug noncommittally. 

“To be frank, I’d say those two are actually good friends by now. They’ve been through far too much together not to develop some affection for each other.” She leaned forward conspiringly, one hand to the side of her mouth. “Between you and me, you’d think they’re the lovers from how much they bicker like an old married couple.”

Again, all Lady Amalia could do was blink, taken aback, only this time she was accompanied by Lady Nora. 

“Oh, now I definitely want to meet him.” The Eliatrope said, a wide, sardonic grin stretching over her face. 

“What can I say? Even if guarding Shushus is a task entrusted to them by the God Iop himself, going off-script isn’t unheard of either. Why, we once had to contend against a corrupted guardian who’d fallen in love with his Shushu!”

Amalia felt a strange pang at the mention of Iop, but she brushed it off, sure it was nothing. She was probably just tired. Still, this was the perfect opportunity to learn more about Evangelyne! It seemed talking about her boyfriend got her to lower her guard. She would be a fool if she let this chance go. 

“How did you two meet?”

“As a Guardian and knight, Pinpin is something of a wandering traveller—he’s always on the move looking for people to help.” She explained with a fond smile. “As luck would have it, he arrived at the Sadida Kingdom just in time to help us with a serious crisis. 

“By that time, I had already been appointed bodyguard, so His Majesty, King Oakheart, entrusted me with the mission of acting as Sir Percedal’s aide and guide. I was to show him around, explain our battle plans to him, provide long-range assistance on the battlefield… Eventually, we got to know each other and fell in love.”

“That’s so romantic!” Lady Amalia exclaimed, clasping her hands over her heart. 

Even Lady Nora seemed to be in agreement. “Gotta admit, not bad.” She raised a pinkish-white eyebrow. “And, how does it work, exactly?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you said it yourself: he’s a wanderer, you’ve been stationed at the Sadida Kingdom this whole time… That doesn’t exactly give you a lot of chances to be together.”

Recognising the truth in her words, Evangelyne nodded with a sigh. “You’re right, Lady Nora. It doesn’t. But Pinpin is always on the move, so he tries to come back to the Sadida Kingdom as much as possible.” She began to look around her, her expression turning disheartened. “Now, though… I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other at all. It’s not just that I no longer live in the Sadida Kingdom, so he won’t find me there, but I doubt he even knows where Oma Island is.”

At her heartbroken realisation, Amalia’s ogrine heart went out to her bodyguard. Even if she would never get to share with Yugo what Evangelyne had with her beloved, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would still miss him terribly if they were apart. She already did when she didn’t get to see him daily. Her gaze turned downcast for a second, before brightening as an idea came to mind, making her stand up in her excitement. 

“Then you should definitely invite him over!”

“I beg your pardon?” The Cra asked, and even Lady Nora was looking at the Divine Doll as if she’d grown a second head. 

Just then, however, a flicker of clarity went behind her pink eyes, and she too stood up next to the doll. “That’s not a bad idea, actually! After all, we want to know more about this world’s different cultures; getting to know an Iop knight is the perfect opportunity to learn more about his race!”

“Exactly!” The doll continued. “If we explain that to the Council of Six, I’m sure they’ll agree to it!”

“Excellent! I’ll be sure to bring it up during our next meeting.”

“Wait a minute.” Evangelyne interrupted their back and forth before it could spiral down into something far too big to control, also raising to her feet. “With all due respect, I appreciate what you’re trying to do for me, but how are you even going to come in contact with Pinpin and tell him where to find me? He doesn’t have access to your Magnolias…”

Nor would he know how to use them, she thought to herself. 

“King Oakheart gifted Yugo with a Tofu bird.” Amalia shot back without missing a beat. “As long as he agrees with inviting him over, he can send a message to Tristepin.”

She… hadn’t thought of that. 

Her mind spinning from all the possibilities, she turned her green gaze back on the two girls once more, her heart swelling. “You… You would really do that for me?”

Just like in the Sadida Kingdom, Lady Amalia reached over and grabbed her hands in hers, her brown eyes warm and sincere. “Of course, Evangelyne. Anything to make you feel at home here.” Then, a flicker of doubt flashed through her gaze. “That is, if you’re okay with it?”

With a quiet sniffle and watery eyes, the Cra returned her smile, “I’d like that very much, actually.”

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

Somewhere in the mainland, the breeze gently swayed a field in bloom. A veritable multicoloured canvas composed by all kinds of flowers reaching as far as meets the eye. Clouds passing overhead as rays of sunlight peeked through to rain down on the grounds below, inviting passersby to just lie down on the grass and snooze the day away in peace and quiet. 

In the middle of the field stood a single flower. With its verdant stem standing proudly, and its soft pink petals that only grew more vibrant under the sun. It was the kind of flower that should be admired, the kind that would make any little girl’s day if only they got to include it into their rudimentary yet well-loved flower crown. The kind of flower men would fight over just to get to gift their lovers with. 

But alas, a flower’s existence is as beautiful as it is fleeting. 

A tanned foot came crashing down against the flower, stepping on it and snuffing out its light without so much as a warning. Robbing it of all of the possibilities and chances it once had. 

On the other end of the world, on Oma Island, a painful pang shot through Amalia’s chest, her ogrine heart aching at the phantom feeling as an ominous foreboding took over.