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geekgirles · 1 day ago

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The Doll and the Dragon

Chapter 12: An Olive Branch

Word Count: 23568

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Chapter Summary: "Something is brewing in the World of Twelve, something that could change the course of history forever. In the meantime, Amalia, Yugo, Adamaï, and the other inhabitants of Oma Island remain none the wiser, focusing instead on their daily lives and the issues the Council of Six still faces when it comes to being accepted into their new home. Will an unexpected request and all its possible consequences be able to change that? And will it be a change for the better, or the worse?"

In all his years, he had never beheld a more beautiful sight than that of his kingdom and its forests. There was truly nothing more wondrous than the vast green canvas that extended as far as reached the eye under a cloudless blue sky. No matter the weather, be it under the sun’s generous rays or as a rainpour beat down on them, the trees’ beauty could not be sullied.

In summer, the trees would be bathed by golden light, turning their already vibrant green leaves into veritable emeralds. After a storm, the last few droplets would delicately tinkle down, twinkling like stars, and the morning dew allowed for the air entering their lungs with each breath to be delightfully crisp. Even in autumn, when the greenery usually lost its natural vibrancy and the trees lost their leafy mantles, the warm browns, reds, and yellows that would replace them felt just as comforting in that way only cosy afternoons spent huddled under a blanket in the comfort of your own home could achieve.

The only thing more beautiful than their forests, and that in itself tended to spark a heated debate amongst Sadida’s followers, were the people.

Oakheart Sheran Sharm was many things. He was a warrior, a diplomat, a man who appreciated good food even when it went against his diet, a father, as much as it pained him, a widower… But above everything else, he was the King of the Sadidas, the protector of the forests of the World of Twelve, and especially of the Tree of Life. Everything he did, he did it for his people’s sake. There was no greater honour than serving them, and no greater pride than knowing he was doing right by them.

Perhaps the only thing that could eclipse the pride he felt for his accomplishments was that of his own son’s. Even if he would be lying if he said he understood what went on inside his heir’s head as of late. He drew in a deep breath, his frown fading into resignation.

Knowing better than to dwell on matters that would only spiral down into unproductive arguments, the Sadida King set his eyes onto his kingdom once more. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips at the sight of his beloved subjects roaming the streets and going on about their day.

Yes, Sadida had truly blessed them with his many gifts. It was only natural that they showed him their devotion and gratefulness in return. As always, the Leafy God had yet again granted them the means to do so.

Prince Armand remained by his father’s side, watching their kingdom from the great plateau guarding the entrance to the throne room with similar stoicism. And yet, his dark brown eyes kept darting towards his father, unease creasing his eyebrows slightly so.

In all his years standing by the king’s side in preparation for his own ascension to the throne, there were still times where the Crown Prince could not for the life of him decipher what his father was thinking. And, in spite of his feigned agreement back at the summit with the other nations, the king’s current plan was no exception.

Hopefully, a certain someone’s tardiness would be enough to enlighten the stubborn king on why it was better to just give up on his latest idea.

“He has yet to come, Father.” He prodded, his expression souring when all he received was a disengaged grunt from the king. His next words held a little more bite. “How do we know his mistresses haven’t decided to go back on their word to help us?”

This time, Oakheart shot a brief side glance at his son. “Now, Armand. What have I told you about rushing to pass judgement? A good king knows how to exercise some patience.”

“A good king also knows how to anticipate himself to any setbacks.” He bit back, impatient. “And relying solely on Master Joris could very well work against—.” His father silently raising a hand was enough to put a halt in his tirade.

The Sadida Prince wanted to protest, but the words died in his throat when he registered a bright light from the corner of his eye. When he turned his head around, he had to bite his tongue at the sight of Master Joris calmly standing behind them, completely nonplussed even as he was surrounded by several guards pointing their spears down at his throat. Armand turned back to look at his father in quiet astonishment. Somehow, he had sensed the arrival of Bonta’s emissary even before the fact.

A knot formed in the pit of his stomach when he was once again reminded that he had yet a lot to learn before he could ascend to the throne.

Likewise, King Oakheart didn’t even need to turn around to face his guards as he commanded, “Rest, my warriors. Master Joris is our guest.”

Master Joris simply dusted his cloak off as the Sadida guards muttered quiet apologies and drew back their weapons. Placing his log to his side, he knelt down in respect in front of the royal family, his head hung low.

“Greetings, honourable Sadida. I sincerely apologise for my tardiness.”

At that, King Oakheart finally whirled around to greet their guest, a calm smile on his mane-covered lips. “Please, Master Joris, none of that. We understand how busy you are, we are merely thankful you could spare some of your precious time to us.”

“I gave my word, Your Majesty.” The short hero nodded solemnly, only then did he rise to his feet. His dark, sharp gaze flickered over to the prince. “Greetings, Prince Armand. It is good to see you as well.”

“Likewise, Master Joris.” His cordial tone was clipped, almost forced. Not because he didn’t respect a hero as esteemed as the Bontarian, but because he had just been forced to take back his words.

Choosing to ignore his son’s temper for the time being, the Sadida King strolled towards the large, leaf-shaped gates guarding the throne room in an almost leisurely walk, his hands behind his back. With a nod of his head, he beckoned his companions to follow him.

Once they were all inside and King Sheran Sharm had regained his rightful position in the mossy throne ruling over the room while Armand and Joris remained at his feet, separated by the small pond leading up to the symbol of his status, it was time to talk business.

“I cannot thank you enough for taking the time to fulfill my request, Master Joris.”

But the ambassador merely inclined his head further down. “There is no need to thank me, Your Majesty. I am merely doing my job.” He raised his head to stare the king in the eye. “As I said back at the assembly, I speak in the name of the Queens of Bonta when I say you can count on us for anything you might need, especially for something like this.”

Oakheart nodded curtly. “In that case, tell Queens Astra and Selene that they have my thanks.” He then fell silent, his large hands coming to rest on his lap as he considered their next course of action. After a minute or two of silent deliberation, he peeked an eye open. “Are you certain you will be able to carry out this task without issue?”

“Certainly, my King.” Joris said, not an ounce of hesitation in his voice. He was about to elaborate when Armand’s impatient tone broke through the conversation.

“And what about the consequences of carrying it out?” He questioned, his brow creased into a cynical glare. “It was already risky enough to invite them to Bonta, but this—.”

“Prince Armand!” King Oakheart roared, cutting the prince’s rant off and standing up from his throne as he looked down to his only son, equal parts irritation and disappointment flashing through his eyes. “We have already talked about this and we agreed it was the best course of action. I will not be accepting any sort of insubordination from you!”

“But father—!”

“Silence!”

The king’s shouted order reverberated around the room, effectively quieting the prince’s protests. After that, silence did indeed reign supreme and the air became charged with the unmistakable feeling of confrontation. As father and son entered a staring competition, the only thing that managed to break the tense quiet was their laboured breathing as they stared each other down.

At least, Prince Armand stood down with a tsk! of his tongue, stubbornly averting his gaze as his hands came to curl into fists at his sides.

Armand wanted to argue against his father’s insistence on his plan, he really did, but one glance at him, an expectant eyebrow directed straight at his son, told the prince that he was expected to let the matter go. Still, he couldn’t not voice his thoughts, not yet. He had to try to reason with his father one last time.

He glanced up at the king, hoping to convey the seriousness of his request, pleading with his father to listen to him and his contributions for once. He already knew he didn’t exactly approve of his marriage to Aurora and his plans for the future of the Sadida Kingdom, but if he could only listen to him on this…

“Please, Father. I beg you to reconsider. Are you certain of this?”

Although the earnestness in Armand’s voice compared to his previous impudence softened Oakheart’s heart, it did nothing to break his resolve. So, hardening his soul as much as his stance, his mind was made up. “Yes, my son. I am certain. Remember, this is not a decision taken on a whim, but one taken out of consideration for Sadida’s will. As his humble servants, this is the least we can do to protect his legacy.”

It was at that moment that Joris chose to speak up again. He shot a reassuring glance the prince’s way. “Rest assured, Your Highness. Even when I presented myself unannounced to investigate the matter of the Sadida woman’s sightings, they were nothing but courteous, if a little reserved.

“Likewise, it must be said that their behaviour at Bonta was faultless—barring the incident with Count Harebourg.” He admitted quietly. “I am confident we have nothing to fear.”

Knowing his father wouldn’t listen to him no matter how much he fought him on the matter, instead of trying to refute the Bontarian’s point, the Sadida Prince eased out a heavy sigh in defeat.

“Thank you, Master Joris. Let us hope you are right.”

He supposed he would have no choice but to keep an eye open just in case, he thought to himself.

Satisfied with his son's acquiescence, King Sheran Sharm shot one last resolute look at the Bontarian. “You know what to do, then.”

With one final nod, Joris finally rose to his full height from his knelt down position. “Yes, my King. I will not let you down.”

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

As God of Nature, Sadida was a creator. While Osamodas’ dragons brought life to what would then become the World of Twelve, it was thanks to his contributions that their precious, little planet was brimming with life. It was all part of a sacred cycle. Without plants, animals and humans alike couldn’t survive, and without them, life couldn’t flourish. Likewise, it was thanks to his gift to his people that the World of Twelve was overflowing with wakfu even without the presence of Eliatrope.

The Leafy God had to suppress a shudder. He dreaded even thinking about what their world would look like without his plants and the wakfu they provided.

His uneasy grimace faded into a sad frown at the memory of the Goddess of Love. Not for the first time, the Doll Master found himself wondering how much more beautiful and prosperous the World of Twelve would have been with the Great Goddess’ help, but alas, she made her choice all those years ago, leaving them no other alternative.

Whatever alternative reality where they all got to coexist together would never be anything more than that, a ‘what if.’

And yet, her people had found their way to the World of Twelve on their own. Perhaps Twelvians and Eliatropes were bound to live together, after all. Maybe sending Amalia to them had truly been for the best.

At the memory of his youngest, Sadida set his focus back on his frolicking daughters. All nine of them. Even the smile painted on his wooden mask accentuated itself a little at the sight of them.��

Maminala and Dathura, always the sweet, placid ones, were engrossed in avid conversation, with the turquoise-haired doll holding her much smaller big sister in the palm of her hand. Razeriana and Ibago, coquettish as they were, lay down on the grass, letting the sun’s warm rays bathe their stitched-up skin and colour their raggedy flesh. Knowing them, they expected their natural colours to be more vibrant than ever by the time they were done.

Compared to their appearance-conscious sisters, the much more sportive Ballodana and Ladysally were dancing to the beat of the music played by Lophapharo, their hips swaying playfully from side to side. Perhaps, as a father, he should have been worried that his second eldest was using Peparava’s squishy form as a set of bongos, but the laughing doll didn’t seem to mind, so who was he to spoil their fun?

Yes, perhaps Sadida was the God of Nature and a creator by trade, but there was no denying his daughters were his true pride and joy.

He tried to ignore the pang of melancholy that resonated throughout his chest at the thought of their absent family members.

Shaking his head to rid himself of that train of thought, just as he was about to join his girls, something from behind him made Ladysally perk up in surprise and point behind him.

“Oh, Father! Look! The Great Huntress has come to grace us with her presence!”

At the sound of the well-known epithet, Sadida immediately swiveled his head around and over his shoulder. Lo and behold, there she was. With her seemingly endless cascade of platinum blond hair, flawless features, and immeasurable grace combined with the deathly precision with which she carried her mystical bow was none other than Cra herself.

A soft smile illuminated her face like her moonlight skin.

“Do forgive the intrusion, my dear friend.” Her voice rang out like bells. “I sure hope I did not interrupt anything of importance.”

Before Sadida could so much as utter a word, Yopo, who up until that point had been listening to Lophapharo’s improvised notes, scrambled to dissuade the goddess’ worries. “Oh, not at all, Your Excellency! We were just enjoying some quiet family time.” The cactus-like doll shrank in on herself when she took notice of her father’s disapproving glare for speaking out of turn.

Luckily for her, it seemed Cra found her lack of proper decorum amusing, for she simply hid a fond chuckle behind a delicate, gloved hand. “Oh, but my dear Yopo, spending time with your family is the most important thing of all!” She exclaimed with mock shame, bringing a hand to her ample bosom. “I see now I have committed a grave sin. Could you ever forgive me?”

While the more naive and irony-blind Divine Dolls scrambled to assure the Woodland Beauty that she could do no wrong in their eyes, both their more savvy sisters and their father rolled their eyes. Although in Sadida’s case, his mild exasperation was directed at his dear old friend.

“My dear Cra, please, cease your teasing.” He sighed. “In case you haven’t noticed, my daughters don’t always recognise when someone jests.”

The archer goddess giggled again. “My apologies.” She said airily, causing Sadida to narrow his eyes at her from behind his mask.

She wasn’t sorry at all.

Choosing to let it go, he simply smirked up at his old friend. “Fake contrition aside, to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“I simply came to see how things were unfolding.”

Sadida knew Cra enough to be able to see through her simple, noncommittal response and immediately understand the true meaning of her words. She was asking about Amalia.

With a quiet sigh, the Leafy God beckoned for her to follow him while he instructed his other daughters to go back to what they were doing. His Divine Dolls knew better than to argue, so with a few exchanged looks and a shrug of their shoulders, they let the matter go as they tried to focus back on their activities before they spotted the elven deity.

Sadida led Cra through the lush forests of his domain, chivalrously holding a hand out to help her whenever the terrain became trickier to navigate. Had it come from any other man, mortal or god, Cra would have made the depth of her offence known and personally punish the chauvinistic pig for daring to look down on her. But coming from the Father of the Tree People, she knew he was just being considerate since no one knew his dimension (or the extent of her temper) quite like he did.

She and Sadida had always been close, but apparently, the fact that he was a willing and perfectly content ‘Girl Dad’—as mortals liked to say nowadays—had turned him into an even more considerate soul when it came to women.

The fact that he didn’t lust after them like most gods did certainly didn’t hurt either.

At long last, after guiding Cra through a particularly treacherous path while she carefully lifted her long, lime-green dress, they arrived at the portal to the Living Realm, tucked away in between a circle of sturdy oaks.

With a sweep of his mossy hand, the bright, swirling vortex at their feet gained form. The non-distinct shapes gave way to more defined images until a clear picture of Amalia, alongside Yugo and his dragon twin, appeared. They seemed to be headed somewhere outside of the palace yet within its vicinity.

Sadida couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips at the sight of his daughter’s laughing face. “As you can see, she seems to be doing well. It has only been a few months, yet she is already remarkably close to King Yugo and his brother.”

“Yes, that is a most welcome development.” Cra concurred with a nod. “Especially after he seemed so adamant against having a bride.” She shot her friend a meaningful glance from the corner of her eye, gauging his reaction.

Much to her resigned frustration, the god gave nothing away. Which was quite a feat, considering his wooden mask reflected his emotions rather than hide them from view.

“It might not have been easy at first, but I believe we will be able to reap the fruits of our labour soon.”

The blonde deity smirked to herself when her keen blue eyes noticed the way he subtly tightened his hold on his crossed arms. She still vividly remembered the amount of effort it took him to downplay his offence when Yugo had the audacity to reject Amalia as his bride-to-be, only calming himself down when the Eliatrope insisted on housing her and being ‘friends.’

And when he started pulling away from her after what by all intents and purposes had been a successful escapade to the beach? The only way to calm the irate father down was to promise to have thousands of magic arrows rain down on Oma Island if the issue didn’t resolve itself soon.

Fortunately, it did. And it was all Amalia’s doing.

(Although Sadida and Xelor’s rapports had been rather frosty—pun non-intended— after Count Harebourg dared to try to pull that stunt with her).

But Osamodas’ orders had been clear. They were to stay out of things and let Amalia navigate everything on her own lest it was absolutely necessary they intervened.

Because she was only second to Sadida himself when it came to knowing his daughter’s disadventures, she had a very good idea about what the Leafy God was thinking.

“You’re worried.” She said bluntly.

“Any parent would be with their child so far away from home.”

“I’m not.” She pointed out matter-of-factly. “In fact, I think we can all agree you’re the only one of us who takes such a hands-on approach to parenting.”

Sadida chose to bite back his tongue and refrain from making a scathing remark about how his fellow gods’ approach to parenting basically amounted to letting their orphans roam the world without any kind of guidance. He knew better than to question a deity’s way of being. Their followers had been on the verge of starting enough wars in their name already.

So, instead, he just grunted with a shrug. “I suppose I will always worry about my children, especially when I can’t be there with them. Although I must admit I am immensely proud of all she has accomplished in such a short amount of time.

“She has grown extremely close to Yugo, as we expected. She has slowly but surely earned the Eliatropes’ trust and respect. Her presence has left quite an impact on our followers, as predicted… All in all, everything is going according to plan.”

“And yet, you still cannot get the image of the Turquoise dragon, Efrim, attacking her or the world’s rulers doubting our reasoning behind her presence off of your mind.” She guessed gently, her perfectly shaped brow creasing in sympathy for her friend.

Even his mask seemed to darken as he searched the words. “I will admit that that was… most troubling.” He settled on after a while.

To be perfectly frank, Sadida surprised even himself with the evenness in his voice. For all the power and wisdom his divinity granted him, even he was left powerless at the sight of his daughter in danger—at the knowledge that he couldn’t do anything for her. Couldn’t protect her.

At that moment, when the smallest Eliatrope dragon had her pinned against the dirty floor, spouting venom in her face with the clear intention of diminishing her worth, the Doll Master wanted nothing more than to summon a monstrous, carnivorous plant that would swallow him whole. But his hands were tied, much to his chagrin.

It was no longer a matter of having agreed to refrain from intervening unless absolutely necessary—because at that moment, with Amalia’s life at risk, he couldn't think of a time where it was more necessary to act—, but because if he acted on her behalf, Sadida had the feeling Efrim’s suspicions would be confirmed and his enmity towards Amalia would only increase.

With his sister as witness, they couldn’t afford the Eliatropes’ trust in Amalia being broken due to a bout of paternal protectiveness.

His rage eventually tapered off when the dragon revealed he had some level of restraint and awareness of the consequences his actions could have for his people. But the harm had already been done. If Amalia had been wary and aware of his dislike for her before, now the mere mention of her detractor put her on edge.

At first, he had wanted nothing more than to march up to his fellow gods and demand his daughter return home before it was too late, but then…

“I do not know if it is youthful foolishness and cockiness or a determination seldom seen, but Amalia’s will to surpass herself is stronger than the roots of millennium-old trees.” Cra didn’t miss the tinge of paternal pride in his voice, a small smile tugging at the corner of her plump lips.

“She is your creation.” She reminded him warmly. “There are few beings more exceptional than Sadida’s Divine Dolls; you made it so it would be so.”

“And yet, my daughters manage to surprise me with the depth of their gifts every single day.”

A soft laugh escaped the goddess in the form of a huff. Never losing her placid expression even at her friend’s modesty, she let her pools of blue wander downwards, her blonde eyebrows raising slightly at what the portal showed them. King Yugo and his dragon twin seemed to be stretching their muscles—no doubt about to partake in some kind of vigorous physical activity—, while Amalia came to lounge on top of the stairs leading up to the entrance located right next to the training grounds they found themselves in, watching intently.

The Great Huntress raised an eyebrow at that. She knew from Sadida that Yugo and Amalia had established this sort of routine early on where the Eliatrope would train just outside her balcony and she would watch. She also knew from her friend, who’d retold the events with a clear tinge of pride in his voice, that Amalia now spent her afternoons alongside the Eliatrope children and the Council members in charge of their education, honing her own skills. However, the fact that now she was apparently allowed near the Council’s personal training grounds belied the level of trust she had cultivated during her time on Oma Island.

It was truly remarkable, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, she was broken out of her thoughts by the sound of the nature god calling her name, “To tell you the truth, my dear Cra, each and every day my little Amalia floors me with her strength of will. The amount of challenges she is overcoming practically single-handedly despite her short age are nothing short of commendable!”

The elven beauty could hear the slight note of apprehension in his tone despite his best attempt at hiding it.

“But…?”

“But, you are right.” He admitted with a grunt, his eyes narrowing behind his mask as he observed the portal. “Our followers and Efrim’s suspicions of her do trouble me immensely. I worry for her safety.”

“As any good father would, my friend.” She assured him, placing a comforting, gloved hand on his bare shoulder.

Once again, Sadida wisely chose not to comment on Cra’s unexpected wisdom given her own treatment of her offspring. Instead, he took her words as the comforting balm they were meant to be.

“To answer your previous question,” he said all of a sudden, in a rare instance where the huntress was caught off guard. “There has been a most peculiar development as of late.”

That piqued her interest, even though she already had quite a good guess as to what it might be. “Oh? Do tell.”

“The Sheran Sharms, my most trusted followers, have hatched a plan. Hopefully, it will at the very least be a step in the right direction to ensuring Amalia’s safety outside of Inglorium.”

He let out a heavy sigh as the image shifted to his worshippers’ kingdom with a snap of his fingers. The entire domain was a flurry of activity. Sadida of all stations were hard at work, preparing for the upcoming event that might be the catalyst for a marked shift in their lives. The only one who seemed mostly unconcerned was that one Osamodas princess the Crown Prince had recently married, but what else was new?

In all his time overseeing his people since she arrived, he couldn’t remember a single time where she appeared to be invested in anything the Sadida were doing unless it directly affected her or her homeland.

His eyes narrowing in on her and what Amalia’s existence might have meant for her family, Sadida’s words held more than one meaning. “I sure hope King Oakheart and Prince Armand will be able to look after Amalia and help her.”

“Fear not, my friend.” Cra said suddenly, her voice dripping with confidence and the assurance of someone who knew something you didn’t. He honestly resented whenever she got not-so-unintentionally condescending with him. “Amalia will be safe—I will personally see that it is so.”

The holes in the god’s mask were as round as the moon. “Could it be? Is it possible that you are looking after my daughter as well, my dear?”

“There is much at stake.” She stated with an impassive shrug of her shoulders. It was followed shortly after by a sideway glance and a smirk directed at him. For once, the Woodland Beauty allowed herself to be candid and sincere, instead of calculatingly measuring every word that left her mouth in case it could be used against her. “She is your daughter, my dear Sadida. For that alone I am almost as adverse as you are to the mere idea of harm befalling her.” Her expression turning into a stoney mask yet again, she faced forwards. “She will be safe, you have my word.”

Sadida was touched by the goddess’ kindness and care for him. With how she carried herself most of the time—poised, aloof, and impervious to anything she considered to be beneath her (which was a lot of things)—, it was easy to forget that once you’d earned Cra’s respect and admiration, you had likewise earned a powerful and wise ally that would stop at nothing to help you.

Still, that begged the question…

“What do you intend to do?”

Her mysterious grin was both assuring and disconcerting. “Let us just say that my dear followers cannot decline a task recommended to them by none other than their goddess. And I have entrusted this one to a most special Cra.”

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

It was undeniable that Amalia watching Yugo as he trained below (and above) her balcony had become routine at that point. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say it was a daily occurrence.

Right before breakfast, Yugo would arrive at her door and knock on it gently, partly to inform her of his presence, partly to wake her up in case she had fallen asleep. At the sound of his arrival, Amalia would perk up in anticipation and eagerly welcome him inside. As the two friends crossed her room, side by side, headed to her balcony, they exchanged some pleasant small talk, mostly asking about the other’s well-being and if they had anything planned for the day. And then, Yugo would come to hover over the ballastrude and with one wink that Amalia swore got cheekier by the day and a mock salute, he would throw himself backwards into the void.

And the show would begin.

By the time Yugo was done training and Amalia was done swooning, their stomachs would grumble in protest and break them out of whatever little moment they might be sharing, reminding them that they had yet to eat. And so, with a bashful laugh, the king would escort the doll out of her room and towards the dining room, where they would finally get to fill their bellies with a hearty breakfast and their hearts would swell at the pleasant conversation between them.

That day, however, they were trying something a little different.

Amalia’s face when she opened the door that morning had been one of quiet surprise. Not like he could blame her. Adamaï had presented himself alongside him at her door without so much as a warning. As a matter of fact, the dragon hadn’t even warned his twin about his intended visit to the Divine Doll.

Much to his annoyance and embarrassment, before he even had the chance to protest, Adamaï simply smirked.

“Oh, don’t get your cape into a twist, Lil’ Bro. I just want to spar a little with you and see how Amalia’s doing. I have no intention of stealing her from you.”

Yugo absolutely did not squawk in embarrassment at that. Nor when the dragon teasingly accused him of monopolising Amalia’s time.

And that was how they found themselves in front of a slightly bewildered Amalia, who could only tilt her head in curiosity as Ad explained his idea to be Yugo’s sparring partner and use the opportunity to see how far she had come in her studies with Glip. The confusion briefly returned when she gestured for them to come inside, only for Adamaï to politely decline, stating he had a different idea in mind.

All Yugo could do was shrug helplessly when the doll shot him a questioning look, silently asking him to enlighten her on his twin’s train of thought.

If only he knew…

Seeing their little interaction, the Emerald dragon rolled his eyes so far to the back of his head he could probably see his own brain.

“Relax, you too.” He scoffed. “We’re just going to the training grounds.”

While Yugo understood what he meant immediately, his face easing into a more relaxed grin as he nodded his approval, the same couldn’t be said for the doll.

“You mean the ones back at the village? Doesn’t Glip usually prepare them for class around this hour?”

“He means the ones located within the palace confines.” Yugo explained, taking pity on her confused state. “While the ones at the village are usually reserved for the children, the ones we’re going to are primarily used by our soldiers and the Council.”

“Oh, yeah! I remember something like that…” For a moment, the glimmer in her brown gaze turned dimmed as memories of the time Yugo kept his distance washed over her.

Then, the gears started turning in her head and she furrowed her brow. “That still doesn’t explain why we’re going there in the first place.”

Adamaï just shrugged. “I just figured it was high time we showed it to you.” He flashed her a challenging smirk, all his pointy teeth in full display. “That, and I for one am rather eager to see what Glip has been teaching you, Amalia. It’s not everyday that we get to see you in action.”

Yugo perked up at that, the ears on his hood standing tall and proud. He had to push down the rush of excitement he felt at the thought of seeing Amalia’s battle prowess. She already left him speechless whenever she used her powers, regardless of how mundane the utility. The mere thought of her in battle was enough to increase his blood flow and make his blood grow hot. It was a little annoying, to be perfectly honest.

He already knew he was in love with her. Did every little thing have to remind him of how utterly smitten he was?

But, much to the twins’ mutual bewilderment, all Amalia did in response was stare back and forth between the two of them, her chocolate eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Do we have to use a portal to get there?” She asked flatly.

Yugo exchanged a look with Adamaï. “Uh… No. As Ad said, it’s within palace confines. We should be there in about ten minutes by foot.”

And just like that, her whole demeanour changed.

A wide grin stretching over her face and her hands clasped before her, the Divine Doll practically dashed towards her balcony, her words trailing off behind her. “In that case, what are you waiting for?! Let’s go!”

As soon as she reached the edge, she propelled herself forwards and onto the ground, indifferent to the neck-breaking height she was plunging herself into. But just as Yugo and Adamaï were on the verge of a heart attack—the Eliatrope had already shot forward with the intention of catching her, while his dragon twin stood, horrified, with one claw outstretched after her—, her glorious mane of green hair emerged from below, slowly revealing the rest of her lovely form.

The Eliatrope King skidded to a stop when Amalia appeared riding a giant tendril, sending them a cheeky grin over her shoulder. He didn’t need to look to know that his brother was openly gawking as he came to stand by his side. They usually wore matching expressions, after all, and this was no exception.

Once their astonishment had worn off, the two of them shrugged and joined Amalia on her unorthodox means of transportation (although, considering she was a Sadida Doll, it was probably quite common for her). Only when the plant had carefully placed them on the floor beneath her room, did they resume their march and their explanation of their destination.

Amalia paid rapt attention. Apparently, the only real difference between Glip’s arena and the training grounds, apart from who used each and their locations, was that the latter was better equipped to handle more experienced Wakfung warriors. Hence why the members of the Council of Six preferred to work out there—less need to hold back lest they risked destroying something from an unchecked attack.

Upon finally reaching the place in question, it wasn’t hard to see why.

Unlike the children’s arena, there was no fighting pit, most likely because experienced Eliatropes could take a fight everywhere, including the skies, she guessed. Instead, there were many targets located several metres away from the firing zone. A few guards, with their feet planted firmly on the ground, demonstrated its use by firing wakfu beams out of their hands and straight at the white-and-blue targets. The doll’s eyes trailed upwards when a plume of smoke would billow out each time beam and hay collided.

Amalia marvelled at the obstacle course. She hadn’t seen one since they momentarily moved out of Baltazar’s class to begin with Glip’s Wakfung training. Even after seeing Yugo perform even more awe-inspiring acrobatics on a daily basis, the kind of mobility and agility the Eliatropes’ portal-making granted them was still incredible. Most Twelvians would have to find their own way of passing through the rings, especially the ones standing several metres tall, and some would have better luck than others, but not the Eliatropes. All they had to do was either jump from one portal to the next, following a turquoise-tiled path; or glide straight through the ring like it wasn’t even there.

She had to pick up her slackened jaw from the floor when Yugo called out for her to follow them to a more remote area.

“This is where the Council trains.” He gestured around him as soon as she was back by his side.

“I have to admit, this is very cool.” She looked around, smiling at the grounds they were currently standing on. They were more spacious than the rest of the camp. “So what do we do now?”

“You can go sit back and watch how I kick my brother’s butt into oblivion.” Adamaï boasted then, sliding up next to a very annoyed-looking Yugo and clasping a claw over his shoulder.

“Excuse me?!” The king sputtered, getting in his brother’s scaly, smirking face. “Did you already forget who’s the better fighter here?”

The dragon shrugged, all-too-innocently. “Why don’t you remind me? Unless you’re all talk.” He shot back, his lips parting away to reveal his very sharp canines as he, quite literally, butted heads with his brother.

Watching them get in each other’s faces like that, Amalia worried for a moment that an actual fight was about to break out. However, one glance at Yugo and she immediately relaxed. The cocky smirk he wore, and that was mirrored by Adamaï’s very own, belied the playful nature of their competitive streak.

She felt comfortable enough to make a sarcastic comment of her own.

“Do I need to grab you by the waist with my vines and separate you, or are you good?”

At her teasing threat, accentuated by her hip jutting out and the eyebrow she raised in amusement, the Emerald Twins momentarily gaped at her, blinking slowly. After a beat, though, the three of them broke down laughing. With a sigh and shake of his head, his hand coming to brush his dirty blond bangs out of his eyes, Yugo turned to point at some steps leading up to a door Amalia only now realised was there.

“You can sit over there to watch us fight, Amalia. Trust me, while they might not be actual bleachers, those steps have the best, and safest, view of the ring.”

Her brow furrowed as her eyes trailed over to where her friend was pointing at. “But I thought you guys wanted to see what I can do?” She crossed her arms pointedly. “Watching is hardly the same as fighting.”

Just as Yugo began to sputter out a nervous explanation, Adamaï came to his rescue, as always. He gently placed his tail on top of Amalia’s shoulder, her gaze darting between the limb and his face when he spoke. “That’s true. But we mostly want to see how far your powers have come.”

“Then, wouldn’t a battle between us be the best way to determine that?” She shot back, unimpressed. “Master Glip always says you never know what you’re capable of until you’re forced to react in the heat of the moment.”

“That’s true.” Yugo agreed, mimicking his brother and draping his arm around her other shoulder. He tried to ignore the way his skin tingled at the contact even through his suit. “But do you seriously think you have improved enough to be able to face off against Ad and I?”

He had her with his rhetorical question and he knew it. As proud as Amalia could be, she wasn’t stupid—she knew when she was biting more than she could chew, forcing her to begrudgingly relent in her pursuit.

His cheeky grin widened in triumph at the sigh of her reluctant pout, her brow creased in deep irritation. “I hate it when you have a point.”

Laughing heartily, the king threw his hands up. “Can’t help it if I’m right.” He only laughed harder when she poked him on the chest with an accusatory finger.

“You could keep your unquestionable logic to yourself!” She cried, trying very hard not to laugh as well. “Nobody likes a know-it-all!”

“Well, nobody likes a sore loser either, yet here you are.”

“How dare you?!” This time, she let out a sound that was a mix between a guffaw and an offended squawk.

The Eliatrope broke down laughing, throwing his head back, when her face scrunched up petulantly, her hands balled into fists at her sides. However, it was Adamaï’s turn to hide a chortle behind his claws when an impish flicker passed through Amalia’s eyes and her expression eased into mischief.

He stopped making a show of trying to contain his laughter when the Divine Doll launched herself at Yugo and began poking and pinching and tickling him as he futilely flailed his arms around in between stolen giggles and begged her to stop. After a while, their fun was cut short when the king finally managed to secure Amalia’s wrist in his grasp and bring her closer to him, so close their laboured breaths intermingled.

“Attacking me when my guard is down, huh?” He panted, his smile peeking through his lips. “That’s low.”

“Not as low as being infuriatingly right!”

He laughed, incredulous. “That doesn’t even make sense!”

The sound of someone clearing their throat broke them out of their trance. Eyes widening like saucers, the two of them slowly, very slowly, turned their heads at the same time in search of the origin of the sound. A heated wave washed over them when they finally took notice of, not just the very smug-looking Adamaï raising an eyebrow at them, but the small group of onlookers their antics had attracted as well. The small squadron of training guards peering over at them from their positions on the opposite end of the field sent forth yet another wave of heat straight to their faces.

They pried their hands off each other and jumped several metres back and away from the other as fast as if they’d been burned. Though, judging from the crimson red on their cheeks, Adamaï noted, spontaneous combustion wasn’t completely off the table.

As much as he hated breaking up their little moment—even if they refused to admit it, he had long resigned himself to the role of third wheel—, they came here for a reason, and it didn’t include those two flirting (this much).

“As nice as this all is,” he gestured at his twin and the doll, his smirk growing when that alone made them squirm. “I’m afraid I have a lesson to teach to my brother. So if you two would be so kind…”

And just like that, the fire of embarrassment coursing through Yugo’s veins had been replaced by the electric feeling only a challenge could provide. “Oh, you’re on!” Much more softly and more gently, he turned to the Sadida Doll. “Amalia, when Ad and I are done with our training, why don’t you show us what you’ve been learning with Glip these past few weeks?”

Her cheeks still a little pink from earlier, the doll couldn’t help but smile at his request, shyly brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sure thing, Yugo.”

As Adamaï called out to his brother to finally get started and the Eliatrope twin, between half-hearted ‘Yeah, yeah. I’m coming!’s, marched up towards him, Amalia decided to follow their earlier advice and made her way over to the steps Yugo had pointed at.

Upon reaching her destination, the doll carefully and elegantly settled into the stoney stairs, bringing her knees to her chest as she eagerly set her gaze onto the two opposing brothers. She felt a tingle of excitement run down her spine when she took in the matching determined, if a little bit cocky, expressions plastered over both Eliatrope and dragon’s faces.

One minute they were staring each other down on land, the next they had shot upwards at lightning speed, kicking up a smoke cloud after them that had Amalia shielding her face with her arms. After blinking the dirt in her eyes away a few times, the doll craned her neck up and gasped.

Even with all her practice watching Yugo, it took her an incredible amount of effort to be able to follow their movements, her eyes darting every which way as they tried to keep up with the pair of battlers zooming by. It was like trying to find a pesky moskito, one minute it would be in one corner of the room, and the next it would whoosh through the air and materialise on the opposite corner.

Even the ever familiar blue trail Yugo left after him did little to help Amalia locate him, as it blended in with the azure of the sky.

Biting the inside of her cheek in annoyance, her head resting against her palm, she couldn’t help but sarcastically wonder how they expected her to watch and learn if she couldn’t even see.

“Hey!” She called after them, cupping her hands around her mouth to better project her voice. She allowed the small feeling of triumph when she got them to halt their movements in mid-air, their eyes big and round as they stared owlishly down at her in confusion.

“As impressive as this all is,” she gestured between the two of them. “Not all of us have a Cra’s enhanced sight.” Then, her shoulders slumped forward, her voice and eyes pleading. “Could you guys slow down even a little bit, please?”

Wincing as realisation struck them, both Yugo and Adamaï rubbed the back of their necks sheepishly and wore chagrined expressions as they mumbled apologies and promises to try and control themselves for Amalia. And with a pleased ‘Thank you’ from her, they went back at it.

Only at a pace that would allow the untrained eye to actually observe their movements.

Yugo had summoned his wakfu sword and shield, his cloak rustling after him with the wind, while Adamaï had unfolded his wings, flapping once or twice every few minutes to keep himself afloat, his tail flickering in anticipation as he adopted a fighting stance.

And then, they lunged at each other.

Adamaï thrust a claw forward, straight for his twin’s abdomen, only for Yugo to block his attempts with his shield. Each time the dragon tried to connect a scratch, the Eliatrope King would follow with his shield, preventing any damage from being done to his body. What he hadn’t expected, however, was that that was exactly what Adamaï had been counting on. As the last fake attempt at clawing at him led Yugo to raise his only means of protection above eye-level, the Emerald dragon took the opening he needed to whip at his torso with his tail, sending the king back a few metres in the air.

Forcing his propelling body to stop before he flew off too far away, despite the frustration he felt with himself for falling for such an old trick, Yugo still smirked. Maybe Ad was in the lead of their imaginary score for managing to connect the first hit, but he wouldn’t be able to keep the position for long after giving his brother some much needed space.

With a swift movement, Yugo raised his weapons over his shoulders and willed the energy to shift and react to his orders. He went from wielding a sword and a shield to two matching spears in an instant. Just as the colour drained from Adamaï’s face as he realised what his twin intended to do, the Eliatrope didn’t waste a single second and hurled the lances forward and in his direction, the projectiles slicing through the air.

Cursing under his breath, the dragon was quick to flap his wings as he tried to manoeuvre around the incoming projectiles. Given his large girth compared to the size of the spears, his attempts were a little awkward. Seeing as the two energy weapons were headed straight at him at the same time, Ad tried taking advantage of the small distance between the two of them Yugo had inadvertently created with his own head and, with a beat of his wings and a twirl, miraculously sidestepped them.

He watched the retreating projectiles for a second before he sharply whirled his head around to flash his brother a successful smirk.

“Ha!” He exclaimed, but the feeling was short-lived, for his brother was no longer anywhere to be seen.

His horned head shooting up in alarm, Adamaï began frantically looking everywhere around him, fully expecting his Eliatrope twin to appear at any moment. Unfortunately, he always forgot to look down.

“Over here.” Yugo’s infuriatingly smug voice sang from underneath him. Looking down at his smirking brother, Adamaï only had a few seconds to register what happened before Yugo kicked him in the stomach and sent him flying upwards with a cheeky wink and a hastily added, “This is for the cheap tail shot.”

And Amalia was watching it all with awe in her eyes.

Now that the Emerald Twins had slowed down, she caught their every move. Adamaï shapeshifting into a white-and-blue golem-like creature as he tried to smack Yugo around. Yugo retaliating by zipping past his twin with his superior speed and shooting wakfu beams at him from all angles thanks to his portals. Adamaï changing tactics and getting his fire breath involved, forcing Yugo to retreat by diving in and out of a series of portals he summoned all around his brother, his motions like diving in and out of the sea.

It was easy to see the members of the Council were in a league of their own. Amalia had kind of always known that, thanks to watching the king’s training sessions and then studying under Glip, but actually getting to see just how badly Yugo and Adamaï outclassed their subjects blew all those other experiences out of the water.

The doll had no way of determining who would win. They seemed to be so equally matched.

Unbeknownst to her, however, Yugo had long decided there was no way he would lose against his dragon twin now that he had the chance to really show off in front of the doll.

Next thing she knew, Yugo had Adamaï pinned down against the floor, one hand pushing his head against the ground while the other held his brother’s arms to prevent him from getting away. The rest of his sculpted, athletic physique focused on keeping the dragon down.

“Now, who is the better fighter?” He asked wryly as he leered down at his twin.

“Okay, okay! I get it!” Ad grunted, trying to make one last futile attempt at wringing himself free. He plopped back down on the floor with a thud! and a sulk when it was apparent he wouldn’t have that much luck.

“Who, dear brother?”

Ad rolled his eyes with a grumble. “Fine! I yield! You’re the better fighter! Happy now?”

Oh, how he wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his pretty face. “Extremely.” And with that, he unceremoniously let his twin’s limbs drop and got up.

Beaming widely, Amalia shot up to her feet and began clapping excitedly. Her heart skipped a beat when Yugo began to exaggeratedly bow to the audience (that is to say, her) and express his thanks. That weird feeling she got around him came back full force, and she felt a strange yet powerful wave of pride wash over her at his accomplishments and battle prowess.

She didn’t know what it was, but there was something in the way Yugo fought—throwing himself head-first into battle, without hesitation; parring attacks and launching his own with so much precision it was almost graceful; exuding such confidence in his abilities it somehow managed to reach her and make her believe the battle was already won… Whatever it was, it never failed to make her swoon.

A small, coy part of herself wondered if perhaps he ever felt the same way towards her when it came to her own abilities?

For better or worse, the swooning was soon replaced by uncontrollable laughter when Adamaï took advantage of Yugo’s boasting to tackle him to the ground. Just like that, they were back at roughhousing like children.

“What was that about being the better fighter?” Adamaï teased now that he was the one on top—literally.

“Hey, you cheated!” Yugo protested. He tried to sound intimidating, but the mirth and slight whine in his voice made that nearly impossible.

The dragon pretended to consider his words for a moment, before dismissing them with a nonchalant shrug.

“Nah, that’s just combat pragmatism.” His fangs glinted as he smirked down at the Eliatrope. “Isn’t that what fighting is all about? Finding your opponent’s weakness and exploiting it?”

“I fail to see what that has got to do with tackling me to the ground while I wasn’t looking.” Yugo deadpanned.

“Not my fault you’re such a showboat.”

Their childish bickering was interrupted by the loud yelps that left their throats as the two of them found themselves being hoisted up by the waist and separated. One quick glance at their midsection revealed the strong grip around it belonged to none other than one of Amalia’s thick vines.

Once she had placed them both back down and away from each other, she sent them a knowing look, her arms crossed and her hip jutted out.

“Sorry to interrupt your bonding activities, but I seem to remember we came here for a reason?”

The Emerald Twins exchanged a glance.

“Yeah, to train?” Yugo tried, his face scrunched up in confusion. “But that’s what we’re doing…?” He trailed off, unsure.

Her patient look hardening into an exasperated scowl, Amalia groaned. Rolling her eyes so far back her head she could probably see the inside of her skull, she emphatically pointed at her face with one finger and coughed loudly to get her point across.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes yet again when realisation finally dawned on them, their lips forming a perfect ‘o’.

“Oh, yeah! We totally forgot about you!” Adamaï said bluntly, earning himself a zap to the back of his head with a small wakfu beam by his brother. “What was that for?!” He snapped.

“Ad!” Yugo hissed, screaming at him with his eyes to look over at Amalia. He didn’t miss the way the dragon loudly gulped when he finally heeded his warning.

Thank Eliatrope Amalia was Sadida’s Doll instead of Cra or Sram’s daughter, because if looks could kill, they'd both be dead enough times over to break their Dofus reincarnation cycle.

After a beat where the siblings wished their mother would put them out of their misery already, the doll’s outrage seemed to finally relent. With a resigned roll of her eyes, she huffed, her stiff posture finally relaxing as she closed the distance between them.

“Come on, you two. Let me show you what I can do.” She told them, the tiniest hint of affection tinging her words as she clasped their shoulders.

“Now we’re talking!” Adamaï hollered, clasping his hands in delight. Retaking the doll’s position on the set of stairs just in case, he asked, “So, what’d you have in mind, Amalia? How do you plan to surprise us today?”

At that, the Divine Doll’s confidence shrank into timidness. She couldn’t help but rub her arm nervously under their attentive gaze, especially Yugo’s eager one. “I… I don’t know, actually. A lot of the things I’ve learned are actually offensive, so it’s kind of pointless showing them off without a sparring partner.”

“In that case, why don’t you just show us something you’ve been working on with Glip?” Yugo offered, his expression softening in sympathy. Despite her early bravado, it was clear Amalia still wasn’t as secure in her powers to show off quite as much as he and Ad liked to indulge in. “It doesn’t have to be offensive.”

“That’s right.” Adamaï agreed with a nod. “Just something you think you have improved on.”

Bringing a hand to her chin, Amalia considered their words. It took her a moment, but the glimmer returned to her eyes as soon as the proverbial bulbshroom lit up in her head.

“Okay, I think I have just the thing.”

The two brothers kept their attentive gaze on the Divine Doll, exchanging curious glances, eager to see what she’d come up with. Said eagerness was mostly reflected by Yugo, his body subconsciously leaning forward as he waited at the edge of his seat, both metaphorically and literally. Adamaï, as usual, was more subdued, with his long tail wrapped around him as he leaned back with his arms crossed, but even he had an eyebrow raised in anticipation.

Standing several metres away from them, likewise occupying the same space they had sparred in, Amalia planted her bare feet on the ground firmly, taking the earthy feeling in as she widened her stance just the tiniest bit. Taking a deep breath, she snapped her eyes shut and brought her hands to her chest, just below her chin, facing each other while three of her fingers touched their counterpart, and concentrated.

It was a process she always found as easy as breathing, the real challenge being stretching her skills to their full potential. As such, the moment she found her centre, her energy convening at her core, the doll blinked her eyes open, her eyebrows creased in determination. Not wasting a single second, she separated her hands and brought them back together with a clasp, an orb of greenish energy materialising between her palms.

Her little audience’s eyes widened in shock when as soon as the light came, it disappeared, but she paid them no mind, her focus on the task at hand. Under Yugo and Adamaï’s awed expressions, Amalia bent her body forwards and lifted it back up, her arms high in the air, in quick succession. Immediately after, a large, thick vine erupted from underneath her, raising its summoner high above.

The Emerald Twins leaned back in their makeshift seats, slightly disappointed. They both winced as discreetly as they could and shared a glance. They didn’t want to look down on Amalia’s efforts, but summoning plants was already second nature to her, so they didn’t understand why she’d want to show them that in particular. Surely, she’d learned many new tricks with Glip?

It wouldn’t be long until they’d finally understand why summoning her vines was so important to Amalia.

They’d long learned Amalia, and they assumed by extension all Sadida, used their vines as means of transportation, or even as a makeshift harness. The doll had demonstrated as such many times. But never in a million years did they expect to witness just how agile they were on those things. Even if they couldn’t just jump from portal to portal like their people did, their technique was nothing to scoff at.

There she was, blowing them away with her control over plants. What started out as her simply summoning a bramble soon evolved into a more complicated and elaborate acrobatic display—almost like a dance.

They watched as the verdant serpent she was on twisted and curled on itself, the doll’s balance impeccable no matter how much the plant stretched and threatened to shake her off. To the untrained eye, it would all see effortless, but Yugo and Adamaï, the former especially, caught the subtle changes in her posture to better control her centre of gravity—she would bend her knees or shift her weight from one feet to the other with every twist and turn the vine took. But no matter what, Amalia stayed on top.

Eventually, the bramble began its steep ascension, its stem arching the higher it went. While the pair of siblings expected that to be the end of Amalia’s demonstration—as no amount of shifting her posture could save her from gravity—the Sadida Doll surprised them yet again when, just as the vine reached its peak, finally throwing her off, she pointed one glowing hand at the ground as she summoned yet another bramble that allowed her to harmlessly roll off until she was back on ground level.

Now that she had two ‘assistants’ at her disposal, the doll smirked. The real fun could finally begin.

Yugo could only stare, speechless, as Amalia showed off her skills, taking his breath away in the process. Now that there were two different vines, the doll could stage a pretend battle. The original plant seemed to gain a mind of its own, for it kept moving on its own accord, trying to hit a moving target; Amalia. In turn, mounted on the newly-formed plant, she easily out-maneouvred her adversary, expertly dodging each hit directed at her.

At one point, when both brambles were close enough, feeling lucky, she took a gamble that would have made an Ecaflip proud. She leapt from the vine she was currently standing on and, with an elegant twirl in mid-air, she landed right on top of the opposite plant. Incapable of helping herself, she quickly turned her head back to her gaping audience and winked coyly, the action sending a hurricane of butterflies fluttering in the king’s stomach.

“For someone who’d much rather keep her feet on the ground, she’s not half bad in the air.” Adamaï observed, his voice low as his draconic eyes followed her every movement.

“Yeah…” Yugo breathed out, his brain turned into mush at the display.

For her part, that little stunt seemed to have taken more out of Amalia than she cared to admit, so, panting slightly, she decided to call it a day. With a gesture of her hands, the vine she was on lowered her back to the training grounds, right before disappearing right alongside its counterpart.

Her breath coming out in short puffs due to the physical exertion, the doll wiped sweat off her forehead with the back of her neck. And promptly pulled a face. Urgh, she hated when she got all sweaty. It was just gross.

She didn’t have much time to dwell on the inherent grossness of her bodily functions before she found herself being scooped up by two strong, caring arms she was pleased to admit she was growing quite familiar with. Her expression softened, colour blooming on her cheeks.

“That—was—awesome!” Yugo laughed, twirling the doll around and eliciting a small shriek to leave her throat. Still grinning down at her like a maniac, he gently placed her feet back on the ground, although his arms never quite freed her waist. “I didn’t know you could do that!”

Amalia stared up at him, dazed, for a few more seconds, before his broad grin turned smaller and expectant and, with a start, she finally realised he was waiting for an answer.

She lowered her brown gaze in a moment of self-consciousness, brushing her bangs away for the sole purpose of giving her fingers something to do that didn’t involve squeezing his biceps in appreciation. “To be honest, neither did I… At first.” She added, finally looking back at him with a little more confidence.

“I take it Glip had a hand in helping you achieve your full potential?” Adamaï guessed, closing the distance between them with a mighty flap of his wings, before folding them back into his back.

Amalia nodded. “Yeah. My vines have always been my go-to defence mechanism, but Glip told me a few weeks back that I should diversify my rooster lest I become too repetitive. Or, worse, predictable.”

“That sounds like Glip, yes. And it is actually good advice.” Yugo noted with a nod of approval. As an experienced warrior himself, there were few lessons that were more important than keeping your enemies on their toes with an unpredictable strategy.

“Right. So while we’ve been working on expanding my repertoire, he also suggested I try to take the abilities I had already mastered to the next level. So, I’ve been working on moving alongside my vines and learning how to dodge with them.”

“Well, we’ll let our brother know you’re making great progress during the Council’s next meeting.” Adamaï promised, earning himself a giggle and a ‘Thank you’ from the doll. “Although, knowing Glip, he’ll probably tell us he already knows.” He winked down at her knowingly, causing the girl to giggle harder and admit he was probably right.

While Adamaï and Amalia talked, with the dragon sharing some tips of his own, the mention of their next Council meeting soured Yugo’s good mood suddenly, his previous proud smile fading into a thin line.

Lately, one of their most pressing matters to deal with during their meetings was finding ways of earning the Twelvians' acceptance. And to this day, it remained the one issue they made the least progress with.

Ever since the banquet at Bonta, things had been moderately peaceful—except for that elusive spy whose loyalties remained a mystery. It was as if the nations had resolved to leave them alone now that Amalia was by their side and they seemingly had their gods’ blessing, yet they still refused to fully accept them.

Yugo would be lying if he said he hadn’t been hoping to hear more from Master Joris, or even the Sheran Sharms, the rulers of the Sadida Kingdom, but there had been no further attempt at communication from either. Their silence and lack of activity was beginning to become disheartening, if he was honest with himself.

While they originally believed it to be better to let the Twelvians come to them lest they risked rattling them further, as of late, the king and his siblings had resolved that maybe direct action on their part would be the best course of action. If the Twelvians didn’t come to them, then they would come to the Twelvians.

The only problem was that past experiences had taught them that may have an undesired effect. They couldn’t just present themselves in their respective kingdoms and demand their acceptance or even an audience with their leaders. They needed to find a way for their new neighbours to approach them, something that proved having the Eliatropes around would be beneficial to them.

But what?

“Yugo? Are you okay?” A sweet, melodic voice broke him out of his thoughts.

With a start, he turned to Amalia, his heart squeezing in his chest when he found her staring up at him with a furrowed brow, concern for him apparent in her depthless browns. A quick glance his way proved even Adamaï was looking at him expectantly.

“Yeah, everything is fine. Don’t worry.”

Judging from the way the confusion in her eyes gave way to annoyance, that wasn’t the answer she was expecting.

“Yugo…” She said sternly. Then, something he couldn’t quite describe flickered behind her eyes, prompting her to close them as she took a deep breath. When she opened them up again, her expression was much more understanding, encouraging even.

She took a step closer into his personal bubble and placed a deliciously warm hand against his chest. It’d be a miracle if she somehow missed the way his frenzied heart beat against her palm or how he gulped down nervously at her close proximity. All of a sudden, under her attentive gaze, for the first time since he could remember, his hood felt more oppressive than comforting. He had half the mind not to take it off.

He pointedly chose to avoid looking Adamaï in the eye. Knowing him, he’d have an insufferable smirk on his face.

“Yugo.” She repeated, this time gentler. “We promised we’d be more honest with each other from now on, remember?”

For a moment, Yugo contemplated doubling down on his insistence that everything was fine, not wanting Amalia to worry. However, her words and the memory of himself admitting he actually worried more when she wasn’t honest with him caused his throat to close up.

How could he demand total honesty and transparency from Amalia if he wasn’t willing to do the same for her?

Even if she couldn’t help him with his problem, getting it out of his system certainly couldn’t hurt.

Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. When he looked back at her, a small smile drew itself on his lips. “Okay, yeah. You’re right. Sorry. Didn’t want to worry you.”

“It’s okay.” She assured him. “I know what it’s like.”

The two of them shared a smile before a not-so-subtle cough coming from his dragon twin reminded the Eliatrope to get on with his explanation.

“Yeah, right. Well, you see.” He stammered, trying to find the words. “The thing is, the Council has been stuck for a while on how to foster more positive relationships with the Twelvians.”

“I thought the banquet at Bonta had been a success?”

“And it was! But, it’s also been our only success so far…” Yugo admitted sheepishly. He took the hand on his chest in his and led the doll back to sit on the stairs they had been using as bleachers, Adamaï following suit. “We kind of expected things to start looking up after that, but the other rulers haven’t exactly been reaching out to us ever since.”

“Oh.” Amalia said quietly, looking down at her lap in contemplation before her eyes flickered over to the Emerald Twins again. “And what do you have in mind to remedy that?”

“That’s the problem. We don’t really know what to do.” It was Adamaï who answered, his voice deep and monotonous. “Ideally, we could try gathering all leaders to Oma for a meeting similar to the one at Bonta, but even that poses a few logistical issues.”

The doll tilted her head in confusion. “Such as…?”

“Such as the fact that we have no way of contacting the other nations without risking our initiative being taken as an attack. Just as we don’t know what we can offer them, exactly, that will make them more receptive to our presence.” He revealed. He couldn’t help but sympathise with the way Amalia winced, he honestly felt like that too.

“Okay, so it’s definitely been hard. And the Twelvians haven’t exactly been making this any easier…” She conceded with a wince. “B-but you guys have so much to offer!”

“Thanks, Amalia. But we’re still feeling a little stumped.” Yugo appreciated her efforts to remain positive and cheer them up, but, unfortunately, they didn’t really amount to much.

The doll’s expression hardened, not in anger, but in conviction. “No, I mean it. It’s true I haven’t been able to see much of the world since I arrived, but from what little I did see, the Eliatropes are much more scientifically advanced than most races.

“In fact, from what I gathered at Bonta, some races would be much more willing to welcome you if you shared what you know. Think about all of Chibi and Grougal’s inventions! If they agree to it, you could offer to implement them on the World of Twelve, hence improving the lives of countless people! Races like the Feca or the Sufokians, in particular, would be beyond interested in the technological advances you could offer them.”

“You got all this from the banquet at Bonta?” Yugo raised an incredulous eyebrow at her, impressed.

She shrugged. “You’d be surprised by how much of my interactions with the Feca King and Prince Adale focused on them rambling on and on about their kingdoms’ latest innovations.”

“As promising as that idea sounds,” Adamaï cut in. He hated to be the voice of dissent, but he knew better than to let themselves get their hopes up for nothing. “There’s this one little problem.”

“Another?!” The doll was beginning to really hate that word.

“Afraid so. You see, as I’m sure you remember from when you helped them create the Magnolias,” the dragon couldn’t help but smirk at the small blush that dusted her features because of his praise, “Chibi and Grougal are having trouble finding suitable replacements for the materials we used back home. Even if we promised to share our technology with the Twelvians, nothing guarantees we will be able to fulfill our end of the deal soon enough so they don’t grow suspicious.”

“Not to mention the sheer danger of revealing just how advanced we are compared to them.” Yugo pointed out, his brows brought together into a despondent frown. “Instead of seeing it as an opportunity to reach a mutually beneficial agreement, they could always come to consider us an even bigger threat.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” The doll let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping forward in defeat before her head came to rest on her palms. “And even if you did manage to summon them here, it’s very difficult to reach Oma Island.”

“Exactly. Especially without those recall potions Master Joris gave us.” Adamaï agreed.

Unbeknownst to them, the three of them had come to adopt similar postures—sitting on top of the same row of steps, their bodies slumped forward as their heads rested on either one or both of their hands, a despondent look on their faces.

“Which also happens to be very expensive. And seeing as we can’t exactly become part of their economic system without their approval for everything else, it’s not like we can afford to buy them either way.” Yugo reminded them, his voice resigned.

“We could always try pleading our case during one of their council meetings?” Adamaï suggested, only to flinch under his brother’s unamused look.

“After last time?” The king asked rhetorically. “No, thank you. I would like to avoid incurring their wrath to the point of being sent over a dozen warriors after my head yet again if possible.”

“It’s a pity there aren’t Zaap Portals all over the World of Twelve…” Amalia muttered wistfully. “That would make transportation so much easier and cheaper.”

Unbeknownst to the doll, while she let out a dejected sigh, Yugo and Adamaï perked up at her words, their eyes equally wide and their mouths hanging open as realisation struck them. How come they never thought of that before?

Before she even had time to register what was going on, Yugo grabbed her by the arms and turned her blinking face to his. He was beaming so widely that, besides making her heart skip a beat, he could have lit up the darkest night.

“Amalia, you’re a genius!”

“Why, thank you. I know.” She smirked, tucking some hair behind her ear coyly. Her brow then scrunched up in confusion. “Why?”

“You just gave us the perfect solution to our problem!”

“I-I did?!”

“Yeah!” Yugo laughed. He was starting to sound a little deranged, if she was being honest with herself. “You’re right! The World of Twelve would benefit from our Zaaps!”

“But I thought you said you couldn’t risk the Twelvians feeling threatened over how advanced you actually are?”

“True, but this can be easily explained!” He insisted, his grin never faltering.

“Oh, great…” The doll muttered, her smile strained. She turned to look at his dragon brother over his shoulder, hoping he would clear things up for her. “Ad…?”

Taking pity on the poor doll’s confused state and wincing internally at his twin’s overly intense excitement, Adamaï placed a hand on Yugo’s shoulder, quietly telling him to ease up. “Easy, Lil’ Bro. You’re scaring her.”

“Oh.” Yugo immediately deflated. He sent an apologetic look at Amalia. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine!” She said a little too quickly, splaying her hands in front of her. “It’s fine, really. I… Uh… I would just appreciate it if you could tell me why Zaap Portals are such a great idea. That’s all.”

“Right.” The Eliatrope nodded. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his own excitement down, before he began to explain. “The thing is, us introducing the Zaaps to the Twelvians doesn’t immediately out us as all that much more technologically advanced as them.”

“Oh?” The doll tilted her head, urging him to continue.

“Because, that’s the thing—they’re portals! They already know that’s what we Eliatropes specialise in!”

“So, in their eyes, it wouldn’t be far-fetched that we applied our magic for more practical uses.” Adamaï pointed out.

“Exactly.” Yugo agreed. “After all, isn’t that something incredibly common regardless of our race? You know, applying our natural abilities to make our daily lives easier?” His tone turned downright earnest as he took the doll’s hands in his and looked her straight in the eye. “Didn’t you say crafting magical dolls is a Sadida thing and not just something your family can do? This is the same! There’s no reason for them to suspect us for this.”

For a moment, Amalia just looked down at their clasped hands, the stitches in her head tightening. When they put it like that, it made perfect sense. It was clear the World of Twelve was lacking in safe and affordable means of transportation, the Zaaps would really be the perfect solution. He was also right to point out the natives of this world were constantly putting their natural abilities to more mundane uses. Prince Adale spent a good chunk of their conversation talking about how the Sufokians’ stasis manipulation allowed them to improve almost all aspects of their daily life—machinery, technology, architecture…

The fact that a race known specifically for being able to bend space to their will was capable of creating effective means of transportation should come as no surprise to anyone.

“There’s also the fact that your Zaaps still have a few limitations…” She mumbled, mostly to herself, after a few minutes, remembering a previous conversation she had with Yugo. She looked up at the king with questioning, but hopeful, eyes. “Wouldn’t that also make things more believable?”

Her cheeks grew warm when he smiled down at her fondly, his brown gaze soft as he regarded her with so much affection it made her heart squeeze in her chest.

“Absolutely.” He told her, his voice warm. “See, Amalia? We just found the perfect solution, and it was all thanks to you.” Her breath caught in her throat at his tenderness. “What would I ever do without you?”

His words sent a jolt down her spine. She wanted to tell him it was her who was thankful for having him in her life. He had no idea how much. She wanted to tell him how excited she felt to spend time with him, how safe she felt in his arms, how much she appreciated everything he did for her. She wanted to tell him just how happy he made her.

Whatever this feeling was whenever she was around Yugo, it only grew stronger by the day, and he didn’t even know it.

“I…” But before she had the chance to even try to find the words that were clamouring to be set free, a flash of light from the corner of her eye interrupted her.

A gasp left her throat as she, Yugo, and Adamaï turned around to identify the interruption. The doll could only blink in confusion at the sight of the familiar purple cloak covering the entirety of the person’s form except for their eyes.

An Eliatrope guard.

“What is the meaning of this, soldier?” Yugo demanded, his voice turning authoritative as it only really did in times of crisis. Immediately, his head spun with possibilities. Were they under attack? Had the spy returned? Were they in danger? What about Amalia?

“Apologies for the interruption, my King.” The guard replied, bending down on one knee with his head bowed as a sign of respect. “But I come bearing urgent news.”

Adamaï frowned. “What is it?”

The guard’s expression was resolute even behind his mask.

“Bonta’s ambassador, Master Joris, has returned and requests an audience with the Council. He awaits in the throne room.”

The three of them exchanged shocked glances. Talk about timing…

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

Not wanting to keep their unexpected guest waiting, especially when they had actually been hoping to hear more from him since the last time they saw each other, with a hasty apology to Amalia, Yugo teleported the three of them into the throne room.

Since the portal opened up right above the throne, Yugo let himself plop down on it. He waited with open arms for Amalia to come falling down as well, catching her with ease when she finally made it to the other side safely, before, with a smile that she returned, gently depositing her on the ground next to him. Adamaï, for his part, glided out of the portal and came to rest on the other side of him, tucking his wings away as soon as he made contact with the ground.

By the time they arrived, Master Joris was standing in the middle of the spacious room, just like the first time they met, and the rest of the Council was already there, each of them waiting for their king in their respective positions.

They all sent meaningful glances their brother’s way. Now that they were finally there, the meeting could begin.

“Master Joris, it has been a while.” Yugo started out politely, yet his voice still carried authority. “I trust everything is well?”

“Greetings, King Yugo. Esteemed members of the Eliatrope Council.” The little man nodded his head in acknowledgment, his eyes flickering to the king’s side. “Lady Amalia.”

She returned his greeting. “Master Joris.”

Beyond that, Amalia resolved to remain silent yet pay attention in case her input was needed. After all, even if the Bontarian had requested her presence as well, she was still just a guest, not a full-fledged member of the Council of Six. The last thing she wanted was to overstep her boundaries, no matter how much trust Yugo and his siblings placed on her.

However, she couldn’t keep her eyes from wandering curiously. Even if the throne room wasn’t exactly new to her, she really hadn’t had much reason to enter since her arrival, as well as Master Joris’. Even as her eyes lit up in appraisal at the turquoise hue of the chamber, and she sent a knowing look the Ebony Twins’ way in response to the beauty of its architecture, what never failed to enrapture her was the throne.

It wasn’t a mere seat. Not even a symbol of Yugo’s position and power. But a veritable work of art—a sculpture with practical purposes. Raised majestically behind Yugo were the pair of skillfully sculpted dragon wings that, not unlike their king, oversaw the space.

Not for the first time, the doll didn’t miss the mysterious crevices that adorned the piece. Six in total, they were oval-shaped, each of them strategically located all over the throne wings. However, this time Amalia couldn’t help but squint at them, the stitches in her head tightening as she racked her brain, trying to understand why they were suddenly so familiar.

And then, it hit her.

They were the exact same shape and size as the Dofus Mina and Phaeris had wielded during the Sacred Dance Day ceremony!

“So that’s why I saw them carrying that chest out of the room that day,” she thought to herself, finally understanding. “They actually keep the Dofus hidden here.”

Then again, why did they have Dofus at all? As far as she was concerned, the Eliatropes and their dragon siblings had nothing to do with Osamodas and his Primordial Dragons. So why did they possess them in the first place? And six in total? Judging from what little she did know about the topic, it was extremely weird to find more than one Dofus, let alone be entrusted by more than one dragon to become its guardian. And most Dofus, while powerful in their own right, didn’t hold a candle to the Primordial ones. Then why and how…?

She was startled out of her thoughts by the realisation that the conversation was still going on around her, and she had barely paid any attention despite her earlier resolve. Shaking her head and stowing those questions for later, the doll returned her full attention to the conversation at hand.

While Amalia had been pondering, unbeknownst to the other occupants of the room, the Bontarian went on, “My apologies for intruding upon your territory announced yet again, Your Majesty. Worry not, everything is well.”

“Then what is the meaning behind your visit, Little One?” Efrim questioned, his lips contorted into a snarl.

As much as his people needed the natives’ approval, he couldn’t afford to lower his guard, especially not around someone who effortlessly managed to incapacitate their guards not that long ago. For all they knew, his mistresses could turn against them in the blink of an eye.

“Efrim!” Nora hissed through gritted teeth, her pink eyes narrowing into a glare at her twin. Her features softened and became apologetic as she turned her focus back to their visitor. “I apologise on behalf of our brother, Master Joris. He is a firm proponent of being cautious.”

But the little man simply shook his head. “No apologies needed, Lady Nora. I understand Master Efrim’s concerns. That is why I came here, to assuage them.”

“And we thank you for your visit.” Qilby spoke up, adjusting his glasses. “Although, I think my siblings will be in agreement with me that we need a more practical method to know of your arrival before the fact. Wouldn’t you agree?”

The way he smirked down at him shot shivers down the Bontarian’s spine, but he made sure to hide his discomfort around the enigmatic Eliatrope. Joris made it a point to keep a close eye on Qilby during the banquet at Bonta, yet he was forced to admit he failed to really understand what made him tick. He couldn’t explain it. The bespectacled Eliatrope seemed perfectly cordial and cultured at first glance, but there was something about him that was quite… unsettling.

He just couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

“I will suggest we form a better line of communication to the Queens of Bonta, Master Qilby.” He said curtly, his face not betraying a single emotion. “I regret to inform you, however, that I wasn’t sent here solely on their behalf.”

Joris’ careful scrutiny of the eldest Eliatrope was interrupted by Yugo’s warm yet commanding voice, his posture upon his throne exuding refinement and, dare he say, cautious excitement?

Huh, perhaps his visit wouldn’t be as unwanted as they had feared.

“Then, pray tell,” the king began, polite as always. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

His dragon twin was much more blunt. “And if you’re not here just because Queens Astra and Selene sent you, who did you come here for?”

Joris raised an imperceptible eyebrow underneath his hood. Master Adamaï was as perceptive as always, it seemed. It was a good thing he wasn’t trying to hide anything. He honestly feared it would take the formidable Council of Six no time to see right through him even in spite of his many years in this line of work.

“I see nothing gets past you, Master Adamaï.”

“You’re the one who implied there’s a third party involved, Master Joris.” He pointed out, impassive. “I am simply giving you a chance to come clean.”

The Emerald dragon could sense his twin’s warning glance stare a hole in the side of his head, cautioning to weigh his words for this was the chance they had been waiting for to really mark a difference in the World of Twelve. Accusing the Bontarian and earning his mistrust would only do more harm than good.

Adamaï had to resist the urge to scoff. Out of the two of them, he wasn’t the impulsive, emotion-driven twin. Thank you very much. He was perfectly capable of treating the situation with the tact it required.

Luckily for the dragon, this time Joris had no intention of playing coy and withholding information from them.

“No need for that, Master Adamaï. I assure you, I fully intended to make my intentions clear from the very beginning.”

“Well, then, let us hear what you have to say.” Mina took a step forwards, directing attention to herself. She raised a hand in the Bontarian’s direction. “Master Joris, you have our full, undivided attention. As our King said, to what do we owe your visit?”

Although he did take a minute to send a grateful nod her way, his response was measured, yet straightforward. “I come on behalf of King Oakheart Sheran Sharm and Crown Prince Armand Sheran Sharm, from the Sadida Kingdom.”

That immediately got Amalia’s attention, who took a subconscious step closer towards the emissary, eager to hear what her father’s people wanted from the Eliatropes. And she wasn’t the only one who perked up at the mention of those names. Every single member of the Council of Six stood on alert at the news, exchanging uneasy glances and telepathic conversations as they wondered what this could be about.

Yugo’s interest in particular was second only to Amalia’s, his body leaning forward until he was quite literally on the edge of the throne. He might be a near immortal demigod, but at this rate the anticipation would kill him!

“Well? And what do the Sheran Sharm want from us?” He urged.

Every pair of eyes present in the room widened as they followed Master Joris’ own unsubtle line of sight—straight to a startled Amalia.

Feeling all eyes on her, the Divine Doll raised a trembling hand and pointed at her chest. “M-me? They want me?”

Phaeris immediately got on the defensive, smoke coming out of his nostrils. “Phaeris hopes they remember Lady Amalia was specifically entrusted to our people by the twelve gods themselves. They have no right demanding we hand her over now like some sort of possession!” He snapped, a loud growl emanating from his throat.

Yugo was about to agree just as fiercely, his eyes beginning to turn into a vibrant shade of blue, when Master Joris scrambled to explain, shaking his head profusely with his gloved palms up in surrender.

“Please, none of that, Your Excellencies! Quite the opposite, in fact!” When he sensed the hostile atmosphere returning to neutrality, the Council offering him one chance to explain himself, he went on. “King Sheran Sharm sees nothing wrong with Lady Amalia staying with you, Your Majesty, as I am sure you will remember from when you met him firsthand in Bonta.”

It was true. Although they didn’t get to interact much, Yugo especially remembered how Sadida’s followers were amongst the most welcoming Twelvians back at the banquet, especially their king. A man as kind and wise as he was large. The Eliatrope distinctly remembered thinking King Oakheart was probably centuries younger than him, yet he had the feeling he could still learn a thing or two himself.

Prince Armand, his son and heir, on the other hand, was considerably rough around the edges, although he too seemed to just be looking out for his kingdom, and he didn’t hesitate to defer to his father’s authority.

Hearing from them after so long, especially given their unique connection to Amalia, tied a knot at the pit of his stomach. From anticipation or dread, he wasn’t sure.

“That is true.” He said at last, noticing he accidentally allowed for his silence to stretch on too long. “Then, what does such an esteemed king require from us?” His eyes briefly flickered over to Amalia, but it was enough for the ambassador to understand the hidden meaning of his words.

He allowed a small smile to grace his features to show he bore them no ill will. “The Sheran Sharms cordially invite you to their kingdom for a celebration in Lady Amalia’s honour. As I am sure you will understand, her existence is of great importance to them, and they wish for their people to meet their god’s youngest child.” He turned to the doll as he said this, his smile becoming more genuine under her astonished, yet moved, brown eyes. “Naturally, even though Her Grace will be the guest of honour, they also expect you, King Yugo, to go, alongside an entourage of your choosing.”

For a moment, words failed the king. Could it be? Could they really get so lucky so as to receive such a perfect opportunity to forge a potential alliance with a nation as highly regarded as the Sadida just as they’d found the perfect way to integrate themselves into their society?

Truth be told, Yugo didn’t actually know which position the Sadida Kingdom held within the World of Twelve. However, judging from what Amalia told them about her father’s people, their ample resources by virtue of being connected to nature itself, and everything they’d already witnessed the Sadida Doll was capable of, it stood to reason that they were truly powerful allies to have.

Forgoing all protocol for a moment, he shot Amalia a delighted smile that she returned with an adorable, fanged grin of her own. One that soon softened as the love and appreciation he felt for her threatened to overwhelm his poor heart. This really was all thanks to her.

Adamaï discreetly clearing his throat saved him from accidentally getting lost in her bark-like eyes and his lovesick daydreams.

Straightening himself up, the Eliatrope King cleared his own throat behind a closed fist, willing the blush heating up his cheeks to stand down. “Yes, um, thank you, Master Joris. Please, do express our gratitude to King Sheran Sharm.”

“Should I also tell him you accept his invitation?”

It was Chibi who cut in, his voice and stance almost uncharacteristically professional as he tackled the issue at hand. “With all due respect, if it’s not much trouble, I think I speak for the Council of Six when I say it might be better if you return in a week’s time, Master Joris. As I am sure you will understand, we have much to deliberate before we can give you a definite answer.”

“Of course, I understand.” He nodded. Then, he turned back to Yugo. “I shall let the Sheran Sharms know of your decision, King Yugo. As Master Chibi suggested, I will return in seven days to hear your final decision on the matter.”

“Thank you for understanding, Master Joris.”

“No, thank you, Your Majesty.”

And with that, he fished a recall potion out of his cloak pocket, gulped the whole bottle in one go, and, in a flash of light, the little man was gone.

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

Needless to say, the moment Master Joris left them alone, the members of the Council found themselves with much to deliberate on.

After a hasty explanation and goodbye to Amalia, who returned to her chambers to rest as soon as the initial bewilderment wore out, Yugo and his siblings wasted no time making their way over to the Council Room. No sooner was everyone at their prospective seats, the impromptu meeting began.

“This is wonderful news!” Mina cheered, her hands clasped before her face as her dark eyes darted across her siblings, seeking their shared excitement. “After so long, we have finally been granted another chance to forge a strong alliance with a Twelvian nation. Oh, we absolutely must accept their invitation.”

Yugo couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t every day their level-headed, diplomatic, and composed sister showed her emotions so openly. He always knew she and Phaeris were the most vocal in their support of a peaceful coexistence between their people and the natives of this world, but for her to react like that… It was only yet another testament of how much this invitation could mean for them.

“Not so fast, Mina dear.” Qilby interjected, raising a finger. “Just because the Sheran Sharms have made the first move, that doesn’t mean they’ve shown us all their cards yet.”

“‘Shown us all their cards’?” Nora parroted with a brow arched, incredulous. She huffed. “You sound like an Ecaflip.”

Qilby just shrugged. “It is a rather fitting metaphor.”

Their incoming bickering session was cut short by Glip slamming his staff hard against the floor to gain their attention.

“I concur with Qilby. This could very well be a trap.”

Glip couldn’t help but flinch in shame under the betrayed look their king shot him, but he had to stand by what he said. While he hoped their race could live peacefully in this world and he had long accepted Amalia into their lives, that didn’t mean he had to trust her people. For all they knew, this was all part of a carefully calculated plot.

“What?!” Chibi sputtered, with Grougaloragran nodding by his side, showing his support of his twin. “Are you even hearing yourselves? Brothers, Sisters, we have just received an invitation from a native nation. We are one step closer to being able to call this world our new home at last! This alone calls for a celebration, yet you choose to focus your efforts into mistrusting our potential hosts instead?”

“Not to mention, the fact that said hosts happen to be Amalia’s people does not allow for us to freely decline either way.” Grougaloragran pointed out.

“I was under the impression that this was an invitation, not a threat?” Efrim wondered aloud. Despite his sarcastic tone, for once, he was being genuine.

Opportunity or not, they could always decline to go! Eliatrope knew the Twelvians had been declining most, if not all, of their attempts at forging political and diplomatic ties countless times since they arrived… Surely, they couldn’t expect them to just take everything they threw at them and roll over like some well-trained Bow Wow.

“It is an invitation, but it would also be extremely disrespectful of us to refuse them.” Baltazar reasoned. Seeing his youngest brother’s disbelieving sapphire orbs staring back at him, he let out a patient sigh. “Lady Amalia is their patron god’s daughter. Her mere existence is of great importance to them. Refusing them the chance to meet such an important cultural figure would essentially be like spitting on their beliefs.”

“Think of it this way,” Shinonomé chimed in, her golden eyes picking up on Efrim’s lack of conviction. “If one of us were being housed by the Sadida, our people would also like to see us, therefore, how would we take it if they were to refuse our pleas?”

“As a deep insult to our race; a direct attack against us and our goddess.” Efrim heaved a heavy sigh, understanding their point despite himself.

The dragoness smirked. “Precisely.”

“We cannot forget Amalia’s connection to the Sadida is also deeply beneficial to us.” Adamaï pointed out, finally addressing the non-Eliatrope dragon in the room. “Her connection to us should help us establish political ties with the Sadida, which at the same time could very well be the first step into being accepted by the rest of the nations.”

“But what if it is not?” Phaeris ventured, surprising everyone in the room, even his twin sister. It was safe to say they had all been expecting the Ochre Twins to be of the same mind on this issue, as they were wont to do.

In a way, even if it was in his nature, it was extremely jarring to see him remain rooted to realism and reasonable doubt when Mina was so enthused by the idea. Her stricken face was proof enough that not even she had seen it coming.

However, as much as Yugo hated to admit it, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach at the mere implication, Phaeris’ reaction wasn’t completely out of the blue. Unlike how he’d usually conduct himself, when Master Joris first brought the topic up, he didn’t wait until the Bontarian was finished saying his piece. He got straight to the point and demanded to know if King Oakheart and Prince Armand planned to take Amalia back and away from them.

A point he didn’t hesitate to reiterate.

“What if the Sheran Sharms are luring us into a fake sense of security and all they want is to whisk our ticket to acceptance away?” He questioned aloud. “What if this is all a trap to snatch Lady Amalia from us while they have the home field advantage? Phaeris can’t help but fear they might use the chance to distort everything by making it look like we attacked their kingdom and they were simply defending themselves, giving the other rulers yet another reason to distrust us—!”

His anguished spiels were cut short by his sister’s comforting hand on his claw. Her dark eyes big and tender as she pleaded for her brother to calm down and come back to her. There was no need to anguish over the ‘what ifs’ that had yet to pass. It was imperative they focused on the present.

The cyan dragon sat back down, his breathing laboured. “Phaeris apologises. He let his worries get the best of him.”

“No need.” Efrim dismissed it with a wave of his claw, leaning back in his chair with his tail thumping rhythmically against the floor. “All you did was speak the truth. To quote Qilby and his Ecafliphile ways, it is too high a gamble to just trust these people blindly.”

“That could not be any more different from what I said.” Qilby grumbled, his nose scrunched up in distaste. Given his astounding memory, he did not appreciate it when people twisted his words and presented them as fact. It was an insult to his divine gift. His scowl deepened. “And I am not an Ecafliphile!”

But his complaints went ignored.

“It is not too high a gamble because there is no gamble at all.” Mina countered resolutely, her eyes narrowed on her little brother in annoyance.

“How can you be so sure?” Nora asked. She was still a little miffed at her twin for his flippant attitude towards the entire meeting, but she didn’t say anything because she was hoping to smooth things out with him soon enough. However, that didn’t stop her from secretly enlisting their siblings' help to make him see reason.

At that, the cyan-clad Eliatrope smirked. “Because if we were truly in danger, Chibi would have had a vision of it.”

In an instant, all eyes were on the prophet, who couldn’t help but flinch under such intense scrutiny. “Truth be told, it depends…” He sputtered, fidgeting with his cloak. Sometimes he really hated his divine gift and the difficult positions it put him in. “It’s not an exact science nor do I get a significant tingle whenever danger is lurking around the corner, but…” He shrugged, humming. “Yes, I suppose if something important truly were to happen at the Sadida Kingdom, I would have had a vision about it, which I didn’t.”

As their siblings began to murmur amongst themselves, discussing the potential dangers and benefits behind paying the Sadida Kingdom a visit, Yugo exchanged a meaningful glance with Adamaï. No words were needed, not even telepathic. That very same day they had stumbled upon a possible solution to their problems and they weren’t going to let it get away. Nor were they going to keep it from the rest of the Council.

Yugo’s voice, composed yet authoritarian, cut through the rest of the Council’s conversation like a knife, demanding respect and that they focused their attention back to him from where he was, overseeing it all.

“If I may be so bold, I believe this is the perfect chance to reveal we have finally reached a possible solution to our problem with the Twelvians.”

“Do you have any idea how little that narrows it down?” Glip snarked, earning himself a stern nudge from Baltazar.

But Yugo just chuckled in good humour. “Of course. You’re right, I should have been more precise.” What he said next was no laughing matter. “Ad and I think we have finally found the perfect way to prove our worth to the natives and earn ourselves a place in their world.”

“What do you have in mind?” Shinonomé gasped, sharing a concerned yet discreet look with her twin.

Yugo looked as assured as ever as he leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the table as he clasped his hands. “We’ll play to our strengths.”

“That’s not really an answer…” Glip pointed out again, frowning.

“All in due time.” Adamaï pacified him. “What matters now is deciding whether to accept the Sheran Sharms’ invitation or not.” He raised a claw up in the air, which was immediately followed by Yugo raising his own arm. “Those in agreement to accept, raise your hands.”

Besides the Emerald Twins, Mina, Chibi, and Grougaloragran also raised their hands, followed by Baltazar and, after a dubious look at her twin, Nora. Even though it seemed the choice had already been made, the white-and-blue dragon urged those in disagreement to vote. As expected, Efrim, Glip, Phaeris, and Qilby and Shinonomé raised their hands against going to the Sadida Kingdom. However, with seven of them for and the remaining five against it, it was clear what their next course of action would be.

“It’s settled then! In a week’s time, we will inform Master Joris that the Sadida should expect us.” Announced Yugo, clasping his hands with an air of finality.

Slouched in defeat in his seat, with his wings covering his body like a cloak, a brooding Phaeris let out a deep sigh.

“Phaeris just hopes we will not come to regret this.” He muttered in a voice so low, one would need to have an Ouginak’s sense of hearing to pick up on what he said. Or, at least, know him very well.

His sister squeezing his claw in reassurance brought the dragon back to reality. He turned to look at Mina questioningly, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. In turn, her eyes were full of empathy and comfort.

“I am sure there is nothing to worry about.” She told him softly, patting his claw affectionately. Her expression dimmed just the tiniest bit as she considered the most unfortunate possibilities. But she shook those thoughts away right after, the determined flicker he knew so well back in her alabaster eyes. “Phaeris, I understand your concerns. Better than anyone.”

“Phaeris has never doubted Mina’s ability to understand him—.” But she just interrupted him with a raised palm.

“I know. That’s not the point. The point is, Sadida himself entrusted Lady Amalia to us; that was his divine will. I highly doubt the Sadida will be impious enough to go against their god’s decision and essentially kidnap his daughter.

“Likewise, Lady Amalia has been living by our side for months, and it is clear to see she has grown quite fond of us—some more than others…” She sang knowingly, pointing subtly towards their king. Even if they didn’t share a psychic bond, Phaeris would have understood the double meaning behind her words. “It is extremely unlikely she would simply go along with an attempt at separating her from us. You can rest assured, Brother. Everything will be fine.”

The cyan dragon exhaled slowly through his nose, but he sent his sister a small smile nonetheless. “May Eliatrope hear you, Sister.”

Their heads snapped back to the sound of their king’s voice reverberating around the room. At some point, he stood up from his seat and was currently sweeping over his siblings with his eyes, his hands on his hips during his appraisal.

“Very well, in that case, all that remains is choosing who will accompany Amalia to the Sadida Kingdom.” He brought a hand to his chest to point at himself. “As King of the Eliatropes and the one Amalia’s closest to, naturally, I will be going.”

“Naturally…” Nora rolled her eyes good-naturedly, an amused smirk on her face. She let out a yelp and almost fell off her chair when her big brother entered one hand through one of his portals with the sole purpose of flicking her on the forehead from the other end.

“Jerk…” She grumbled, glaring daggers at Yugo.

But her brother just went on as if nothing had happened. “Anybody else wishes to join us?”

Adamaï let out an exaggerated, long-suffering sigh. “Well, if you’re going, then I suppose I’m coming with you.” He smirked, an excited glint in his eyes. “Somebody has to watch over you to make sure you don’t mess up, right?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Yugo deadpanned, but he was smiling.

Despite his previous objections, Qilby raised a finger. Deep down, Yugo didn’t even know why he was surprised. The eldest Eliatrope always found flaws in everything, yet he was also very quick to invite himself to any and all kinds of events that would allow him to explore and entertain his mind for a while.

“If it’s not much trouble,” he started purposefully, his hazel eyes narrowing behind his glasses at the way the king was looking at him. “I would very much like to go. This is the perfect chance to explore Sadida culture up close. As accommodating as Lady Amalia is, nothing can compare to really immersing yourself in a culture to truly understand it. That is also why getting to meet the Sheran Sharms in Bonta wasn’t enough, either.”

“Very well, Qilby. Thanks for your help.” Yugo said, trying very hard to suppress an exasperated sigh. At the same time, Adamaï addressed the eldest dragoness. “What about you, Shinonomé? Would you like to come as well?”

But the ruby-scaled woman just shook her head politely. “As much as I would love to learn more about Sadida’s worshippers, I’m afraid I must decline. Given Qilby’s inquisitive nature, somebody must remain behind and look after the clinic in case medical attention is needed while you’re away.”

“Of course. Thank you, Shinonomé. Hopefully, you will be able to accompany us soon.”

“Yes, soon.”

The king directed his focus to the Ebony Twins. They were raising their hands, clearly volunteering themselves, but, much to his chagrin, Yugo had no choice but to shoot them down. “Chibi, Grougal? I’m sorry, but we’re going to need you to stay behind.”

“What?! Why?” Chibi sputtered, shocked.

“Grougaloragran and Chibi should get to decide whether they go to the Sadida Kingdom or not.” The black dragon added, more than a little petulantly, as he crossed his arms and huffed out a puff of smoke from his nostrils.

“I know, and I am sorry for removing your autonomy on the matter. But we need you here.”

“Why?” Chibi raised an eyebrow, sceptical.

“Because we need you to help us test and develop Amalia’s idea for earning the Twelvians’ acceptance.” Adamaï answered. “If all goes well, we could pitch our plan to King Oakheart and get his help in organising a meeting with the other royals. But we need you to tell us if it would be feasible first.”

The Ebony Twins took a moment to consider his words. After a beat, they exchanged purposeful nods and gave their consent to staying behind and working on verifying the applicability of Lady Amalia’s idea.

Yugo let out a relieved sigh at their begrudging consent. He really owed them one for their sacrifice.

“Very well, who’s next?”

Not surprisingly, Baltazar, Glip, and Mina chose to remain behind, wisely pointing out that with possibly half of the Council away, the other half should stay to oversee state affairs. Nobody could find fault in their reasoning, so they simply thanked them for their dedication and for covering for their parting siblings.

However, what nobody was counting on was Phaeris volunteering himself after so adamantly refusing to go in the first place.

“Phaeris, are you sure?” Adamaï asked, unsure himself. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he awaited for an answer. “We understand if you would rather not come…”

“Phaeris would feel more uneasy if he didn’t accompany his siblings, Adamaï.” He answered gravely, his bright eyes piercing his brother’s with their conviction. “After all, two dragons are better than one, and you will need all the help you can get.”

“Thank you, Phaeris.” The king nodded gratefully, smiling kindly at the cyan dragon in an attempt at imbuing him with the confidence he felt. “But you don’t have to worry. As Mina said, I’m sure everything will be fine.”

“Won’t hurt to be prepared…” Efrim muttered through his teeth. He shot a glare at his twin sister when she nudged his side in disapproval.

Nora herself jolted in her seat when her older brother addressed her.

“What about you, Nora? Would you be interested in joining us?”

A huge grin split her face in two. “Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t be planning on joining you from the very beginning.” She huffed a chuckle through her nose. “Eliatrope knows somebody has got to keep an eye on you boys. I could never risk Amalia suffering from testosterone poisoning.”

While his brother shot her scathing looks, unamused by her comment, Shinonomé, never to turn down an opportunity to tease her little sister, couldn't help but poke fun at her.

“Do tell, Nora. Your willingness to go to the Sadida Kingdom wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that this is the perfect chance to see how Sadida women look. Now would it?”

Nora had the decency to grimace, blushing. All around her, the members of the Council snickered. It wasn’t every day the youngest Eliatrope got this flustered. “It’s not my fault the king’s entourage was formed exclusively by men…” She grumbled, pouting.

Before Yugo had the chance to make a joke of his own, his laughter was cut short by the most unexpected sight. Even more so than Phaeris volunteering himself. Because, leaning back against his seat beside his wide-eyed twin with an almost bored expression on his face, Efrim was raising his claw.

The tense silence that soon fell over the Council Room made it clear that the rest of its occupants had taken notice too.

“Is there anything you would like to share, Efrim?” He had to make sure.

The way his sapphire eyes blinked seemed almost offended. “Uh, yes. I believe this is the part where I sign up to go to the Sadida Kingdom?” He offered sarcastically. He then made a show of shaking his arm. “I was under the impression that it was done by raising your hand?”

While the Eliatrope King’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened like saucers, actions that his own dragon twin wasted no time mimicking, an astonished Chibi managed to perfectly encapsulate what Yugo and Adamaï couldn’t express due to their gawking.

“You want to go to the Sadida Kingdom?!” He all but screeched in disbelief. “You are aware there are Twelvians there, right?” Even with his teasing tone, it was plain to see the prophet was only half-joking. And the utter surprise in his voice didn’t help matters either.

His concerns were met with a scowl. “Thanks for the heads-up.” The periwinkle dragon grumbled, annoyed.

Baltazar, well aware of his younger brother’s animosity towards Amalia, furrowed his brow and exchanged a nervous glance with Glip. One thing was Efrim being rude and dismissive of the Sadida Doll on Oma Island, and even that bordered on inexcusable, but to risk his disdain for her show in the Sadida Kingdom, where she was revered as their god’s daughter and a symbol of prosperity by his worshippers…

Things could go downhill in the blink of an eye. They could not risk letting the opportunity they had been granted go to waste by being reckless.

“Efrim, are you sure?” The beige dragon started as diplomatically as possible, his raspy voice gentle and unaccusing. “We all know of the ups and downs of your relationship with Lady Amalia.” His blue eyes narrowed in intrigue when Nora flinched at his brother’s side, her brows pinched together in worry, but the young dragon in question didn’t seem too bothered so he let it slide. For now. “But we mustn’t forget we will be the ones in an unfamiliar land. A territory where she is worshipped like a goddess. Baltazar is sure Efrim does not wish to jeopardise this opportunity…”

“Please, Baltazar, spare me the sermon.” The young dragon cut him off, his voice harsh.

He hated feeling like this. Like he was some unstable brute who knew nothing of tact and finesse and needed to be watched over in case he messed up. He hated having his siblings’ unsure eyes on him, silently wondering if they weren’t about to make some grave mistake. And he especially hated feeling Nora pulling further and further away from him, the distance between them growing bigger by the day. The trepidation he felt at the mere idea of his own twin sister turning her back on him licked away at his heart like frozen fire, making his insides churn in apprehension.

And to think this was all because of that doll…

But he couldn’t give his siblings further reasons to deny his request. He had to remind them that he could be trusted. Because if you couldn’t trust your own family, who else could you trust?

“I assure you, I have no intention of doing anything to jeopardise our people’s chances of being accepted into this world.” The blue of his eyes was downright icy when they settled on Yugo. “I trust you are not doubting my loyalty and devotion to our nation?”

The king’s brown eyes hooded over in concern, the question hurting him more than he cared to admit. Of course he trusted his little brother! He was… He was his little brother. They had all been through too much together not to; but the truth of the matter was that Efrim had changed after the war. He was all that much confrontational and quick to expect the worst of anyone who wasn’t an Eliatrope. His treatment of Amalia was a prime example of that.

Likewise, said treatment had the unfortunate side effect of sending Amalia on edge whenever the youngest dragon was near her. Sadida might not possess their wakfu vision, but you would have to be blind not to see the way the Divine Doll tensed up in Efrim’s presence. If she showed signs of discomfort towards him in the presence of her father’s people… There were a lot of things on the line and a lot of things that could go wrong.

And yet…

“Very well, Efrim.” He said at last, drawing every pair of wide eyes towards him. Even Efrim seemed to be taken aback by his decision. “You are right. You would never do anything to harm our people. You may come if you so wish.” Just then, his tone turned serious and stern, his otherwise warm brown eyes, cold and unforgiving as he took on a stance befitting of his position as monarch. “However, I do ask that you are in your best behaviour around Amalia and her people. Can I trust you will not make a mockery of the trust I have decided to place on you?”

For a moment, Efrim wanted to protest the unfair treatment he was under. He was sure Yugo would never ask his precious flower to behave in his presence. It took every ounce of self-restraint he possessed not to scoff spitefully; instead, he let out a heavy sigh, understanding despite himself that their people did indeed need this alliance, and he couldn’t risk endangering it.

His own cobalt eyes pierced Yugo’s brown ones. “You can count on me, my King.”

With a final nod from their leader, the meeting was adjourned. In a week’s time, they would inform Master Joris, and subsequently the Sheran Sharms and their subjects, of their decision.

As the Council members filed out of the room, with Efrim slithering out of the door, those who would accompany Amalia to the Sadida Kingdom discreetly agreed to keep an eye on their brother, just in case.

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

Soon after the meeting let out, Yugo made a beeline for Amalia’s room, eager to tell her the good news. The way her eyes sparkled in delight and a dazzling grin stretched over her lips sent his poor heart into a frenzy, his mind scrambling to imprint the sight onto his brain. And even that couldn’t compete with the feeling of the doll’s petite yet stunning form moulding perfectly against his when she threw herself at him in elation. There was something deeply cathartic in holding Amalia in his arms.

Despite his accelerated heartbeat, her warmth meshing into his, the sweet scent of her intoxicating his senses, and her silky, emerald strands tickling his nose all allowed him to enter a most blissful state. A state where everything was right in the world and he could relax. Amalia’s proximity was like a balm, soothing his wounds.

His heart ached when he was forced to let go and tend to his duties for the day.

As promised, within the week Master Joris presented himself back inside the throne room. In spite of his stoic demeanour, there were enough small, almost imperceptible changes—like the way his face would twitch, almost as if fighting back a smile—that betrayed his true feelings. He was just as relieved that the Council had accepted the invitation as they were of receiving it.

A pleased smile drew itself onto Yugo and Adamaï’s faces at his reaction. Turns out, Bonta’s beloved hero wasn’t made out of stone, after all.

Right as the Bontarian assured them he would share the news with the Sheran Sharms, before taking his leave he made it a point to let them know that, despite his station, King Oakheart wasn’t an avid follower of frivolities or a strict adherence to protocol. Therefore, while they were free to do as they pleased, they were in no obligation to go out of their way and sport their most extravagant garments for the occasion. The king just hoped for a pleasant evening where everyone would be comfortable in each other’s presence.

Besides, most Sadida had never seen an Eliatrope in their life. They wouldn’t be able to tell their formal clothing from their informal garments anyway.

And so, after much deliberating and pouting from a disappointed Nora, it was agreed that they would not commission new clothing for the occasion. While their little sister hadn’t taken the news well, she eventually let the matter go when Mina pointed out the true guest of honour would be Amalia. If anyone deserved to shine amongst the Sadida, that was his eleventh Divine Doll.

When the king informed her of their decision, however, much to his surprise, the doll had politely declined their offer to call forth Mr. Needlesworth to start working on a new outfit for her. When asked about it, all she said was:

“Not that I doubt Mr. Needlesworth’s expert hands, but I have something else in mind.”

It wouldn’t be until the actual day of their trip to the Sadida Kingdom that Yugo would understand what she meant by that.

It was exactly a week after they informed Master Joris of their decision. In the following days, once the Sadida royal family had received the news of their upcoming visit, following Qilby’s pointed suggestion, the Bontarian handed them the method through which Twelvians communicated with each other—a Tofu bird capable of flying great distances and transmitting a spoken message.

Even Chibi and Grougal had been impressed by its simple ingenuity. Even so, they maintained the Magnolias were a much better alternative, as Tofu messaging only allowed for one-on-one conversations and it still took the poor bird too long to relay the message.

Nevertheless, it was thanks to that piece of Twelvian innovation that they settled on a date for their visit and they let the small man know which members of the Council of Six would accompany Amalia that day. With the arrival of a set of recall potions shortly after, they were all ready to go.

When the day finally came, the members of the Council were gathered in front of the large balcony overseeing their people. Right before leaving, much like last time, they would give a speech in commemoration of the great milestone they were about to reach before bidding their subjects goodbye. All they needed was for the guest of honour to make her grand entrance.

“Don’t worry, Yugo. We promise to use this time wisely to properly test out the portals.” Chibi assured his brother, his dragon twin nodding by his side. It was funny, in a way, he and Grougal were about to spend Eliatrope knows how long locked away in their workshop, and yet he looked much more regal than his brother and king did at the moment in his usual cloak and battlesuit combo.

There was a reason why he always went with gold-plated upper armour. It never went out of style.

Yugo placed a hand on the shoulders of both of them, his smile belying just how much trust he had for his genius siblings.

“Thank you, guys. I know you will not let me down.”

The moment was interrupted by Qilby’s amused voice, his words announcing the arrival they had all been waiting for.

“My, if this isn’t a trip down memory lane!”

Followed by Amalia’s soft giggling. “Thank you, Qilby. I thought it was only fitting.”

His brow furrowed in confusion at the conversation, Yugo peeked over Chibi and Grougal’s forms as they were unintentionally obstructing his view of Amalia. The moment he saw her, he understood completely—and his mouth went a little dry.

Talking to Qilby stood Amalia, decked out in a very familiar outfit. A very familiar outfit he hadn’t seen in months, since she first arrived at Oma Island, to be precise.

“Amalia.” She perked up at the sound of her name. Her eyes left Qilby as she turned to the origin of the voice, a small smile immediately plastering itself on her face at the sight of an approaching Yugo. “I’m guessing this is what you meant when you said you had something else in mind?”

She nodded with a laugh, opening her arms wide to gesture down at herself and her outfit. It had been so long, the Eliatrope had almost forgotten about the dress made out of autumn-like leaves that exposed delicious patches of her skin—her upper and lower back, her long, toned legs, her profile… Or the way her wild mane was delicately pulled up by that horned headband of hers, her ponytail standing tall and proud like a tree’s leaves in spring while delicate strands of emerald hair perfectly framed her face and draped down around her nape. As per usual with Amalia, who apparently couldn’t go a day without accessorising, she completed the look with matching green wristbands and anklets.

“I know King Oakheart insisted we didn’t need to dress up for the occasion, but these are my father’s people. I want to present myself as the Divine Doll that I am, and that means appearing as my father created me.” The doll explained, her brown eyes steely with resolve even as her voice held an unmistakable warmth.

For a moment, Yugo could only stare at her, taken aback, before his expression softened. He saw himself and his siblings reflected in her, in her devotion to her people just as they were devoted to theirs, even if her interactions with Sadida’s worshippers had been fairly limited.

A small gasp escaped her and her eyes flicked up and down when Yugo delicately took her hands in his, without so much as a warning, and leaned down so they were face to face.

“I’m sure they’ll appreciate everything you are doing for them.” He smiled.

She smiled right back. “That’s all I ask.”

“Hey, lovebirds!” Nora’s teasing voice broke the spell, sending fire to their cheeks and causing them to turn back to her. “As much as I hate to interrupt this touching moment, everyone is waiting.” She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder to make her point. Suddenly, the impatient murmurs coming from below the palace became much louder.

The king’s face was scrunched up in annoyance at his sister’s dedication to embarrassing him for a second. Taking one deep breath as he willed himself to let it go—though not without swearing to get back at her later—, he nodded at his siblings, signalling it was time to get this show on the road.

“Let’s go.”

They all nodded back at him and started filing out of the corridor leading to the balcony and onto the veranda.

Amalia stayed behind for a moment, her own face scrunched up in confusion as she racked her brain to understand why Nora would call her and Yugo ‘lovebirds’. But those thoughts were banished from her mind when the Eliatrope in question bowed slightly and gestured for her to do the honours and lead the way.

“Are you ready?”

“Huh?” The doll blinked. Her eyes followed the direction his hands were pointing at until they reached the large balustrade keeping people from falling off the balcony in front of her and the backs of the already congregating members of the Council. The brightness coming from the outside world was a nice contrast to the faint light inside the palace walls. “Oh! Yes! Yes, of course.”

Without another word, the departing members of the Council of Six and the Sadida Doll emerged from within the shadows and stepped into the midday sun, coming into view of their loyal Eliatrope people, who watched with starry eyes. Even so, they would not have needed to say a word, for their subjects didn’t waste any time filling the silence with cheers at the sight of them.

As expected of his position as king, Yugo stepped forward and in front of his siblings and the doll, drawing all eyes to him, and addressed his subjects first, “My people! Today we have been granted with an opportunity we would be foolish to decline. As I am sure you all already know, recently, we received yet another visit from Master Joris, Bonta’s ambassador.

“However, much to our surprise, this time he wasn’t acting exclusively on behalf of his nation. He came with a message from King Oakheart Sheran Sharm,” his eyes flickered meaningfully over to Amalia, “ruler of the Sadida Kingdom.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, a chorus of gasps could be heard from down below. Just like their leader before them, in an instant, countless hopeful gazes flicked over to the Divine Doll. She seemed to shine like a beacon of hope; she was the key to their acceptance into this world.

Meanwhile, Yugo continued. “The royal family wished to invite Amalia to their territory as their guest of honour, so their people could meet their god’s child. And, naturally, as her hosts, we were invited as well.”

Then, it was Adamaï who took a step forward, coming to stand right beside his twin. “Of course, after some deliberation, we agreed; the advantages of such an arrangement far surpassing its risks. And here we are today, presenting ourselves before you right as we are about to set out on yet another diplomatic mission for the sake of our future.”

“Much like we did before we left for Bonta, we sincerely ask of you that you pray for our safe return.” Efrim spoke up next. While his cautionary words raised some eyebrows, most of the people in attendance were far too engrossed in their own euphoria to notice. They simply cheered louder.

Next to him, Nora frowned, determined to make up for her twin’s poor wording. “And do wish us good luck, so today’s visit will be a success and the first of many more meetings between allies!”

Amidst their people’s congratulatory echoes and thunderous applause, all of which brought a warm smile to Amalia’s face, touched by the love and trust the Eliatropes felt for their leaders, she registered movement from the corner of her eyes. She looked up in surprise to find Yugo, his head slightly bent down so it would be easier to meet her gaze.

“Would you like to say some words?”

She started at his suggestion. “Wait, what? You want me to give a speech?” If possible, her bewilderment only grew when he simply nodded. “But these are your people! Won’t they prefer to hear what you have to say?”

The king just shrugged, his cloak bobbing up and down with his movements. “We’re going to be visiting your people. If anything, whatever you have to say will probably be more important than our little speech.”

The doll considered it. Normally, the last thing she would want would be to overstep her boundaries and undermine the Council’s authority in their own territory. But Yugo was right. As a Sadida Doll, her input was crucial when it came to her divine father’s followers. And the Eliatropes were beyond eager to finally establish peaceful relations with the Twelvians, so they would be keen on listening to what she had to say. Especially if it promised that, by the end of the day, the inhabitants of Oma Island would be able to call the Sadida their allies.

At last, she made up her mind, sending a resolute nod Yugo’s way before advancing across the platform until she was under the proverbial spotlight.

Truth be told, it was more than a little daunting to be addressing the Eliatropes like this, especially when she could feel their bright, brown eyes, hungry for answers, piercing through her skin. Just like she couldn’t ignore the Council staring intently at her back, intrigued by what she might say—although, knowing Efrim, he was probably glaring at her. Even so, despite her slight apprehension and the slight tremor of her hands, she took a deep breath and willed her frantic heartbeat to slow down, and her voice to remain unwavering as she uttered each and every word with an ease and conviction that shocked even her.

“My dear Eliatrope people,” she began, her voice loud and clear like a waterfall. “There are no words to express just how grateful I am for your generosity and hospitality these past few months. Even with my divine nature, I doubt if I will ever be able to repay you for everything you have done for me.

“However, I was sent here for a reason—to bridge the gap between you and the natives of this world. And what better way to do that than ensuring you and the Sadida, the Tree People of the World of Twelve, are united by more than my presence?”

As she spoke, her expression turned solemn. For a moment, she wondered if she should truly speak about this, admit her own limitations, but her principles came first. She owed it to the Eliatropes to be completely honest after everything they had done for her. Better to advise caution than to let them get their hopes up only for them to be completely dashed down the line.

“To tell you the truth, I have not had the chance to interact with my father’s worshippers, at least not since I first met the royal family at Bonta.” At her revelation, worried murmurs erupted all around the attending Eliatropes, with furrowed brows being exchanged and hands being brought to their faces as a sign of their concern. Panicking slightly at their apprehension but refusing to let it show, Amalia scrambled to assuage their worries. “Having said that, the moment I first laid my eyes on them I immediately felt a kinship. A connection so powerful it washed away all my doubts in an instant.

“The Sadida truly are the Leafy God’s people. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that we share the same values and that their devotion to Sadida is pure and unquestionable. As it is their loyalty to his will and that of me and my sisters. As such, I can confidently say that they want this alliance as much as I do. And I cross my Ogrine heart and hope to die were my vow dishonest, that I will do everything in my power to ensure it happens.”

While the Eliatropes were still hanging onto her every word, enraptured by the sincerity and solemnity in her voice, the spell was broken by something even more powerful—shock. A powerful silence fell over the entire area as the Divine Doll bowed her body ninety degrees, her deep respect and appreciation for the people gathered, regardless of social station, shining through her actions.

“Selfish as it may be,” she made sure to raise her voice so it could be heard even from her awkward position, “I sincerely hope you can place your trust on me and on the fact that I will not disappoint you.”

The moment of silence stretched into a lull, and Yugo was beginning to grow fidgety. Even though he believed, with every fiber of his being, that Amalia meant each and every word—a great wave of affection overtaking his entire being at the sight of her dedication to her role and duties—, he was beginning to dread his subjects’ reactions.

What if Amalia’s admission of not truly knowing the Sadida caused them to doubt her capabilities? What if now they were left with even less hope than when they first arrived?

The last thing his people could afford to lose was hope.

His eyes flickered over to Adamaï, seeking his comfort and wisdom, but the brisk shake of his horned head made it clear the dragon was at a loss, as well. Even as his eyes quickly scanned his siblings, trying to gouge their reactions, all he could discern was that they seemed to be evenly divided between shock at the doll’s actions and unease at their subjects’ reaction.

His eyes went back to Amalia, who remained bowed. If one looked closely, they could see the way her hands had curled into fists against her thighs as slight tremors went down her body, a clear sign of her anxiousness. Great Goddess above, if he was feeling this nervous, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what the poor doll had to be going through.

It began small and low, like a ripple before a downpour, but soon enough, the distant sound of clapping hands grew louder and louder, until it became downright thunderous and near deafening. Soon it was accompanied by Boowolf whistling and cheers, all in the Divine Doll’s name.

“Long live Lady Amalia!”

“May Eliatrope’s portals guide you!”

“Long live the Eliatropes and Sadida!”

At first, Amalia was speechless, taken aback by the overwhelming support, but, just then, her face broke into a watery smile, tears of joy and emotion welling in her eyes as she waved back at the Eliatropes and thanked them profusely for the faith they had on her.

Yugo let her be for a while, his siblings and him coming to join her as they thanked their people for the trust they’d chosen to place on them and promised to return soon with good news.

But all things must come to an end.

Bringing a round bottle to her face, he asked, “Are you ready?”

Her eyes matching the fire in his own, she nodded with a smirk and snatched the bottle from his hand. With one last look around her little entourage to signal it was time to go, they all threw their heads back and gulped down the contents of the recall potion in one go, disappearing in a flash of light.

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