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geekgirles · 3 days ago

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The Doll and the Dragon

Chapter 10: Connection Found

Word Count: 31,275

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

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

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

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

The Council of Six all nodded in response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was answered by a chorus of affirmative words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Irresistible.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All I’m saying is—.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was actually on Wednesday, but yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, that fact is important to highlight.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Ivory Twins’ eyes widened. The Eliaculus.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is the Divine Doll doing there?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Amalia is not going to sell us out!”

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

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

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

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

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

What would it take for him to see reason?

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

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

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

“Of course you’re not.” Glip said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There’s no rush. Take your time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Soon enough, the kid proved him right.

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

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

“Huh? You are?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nodded. “Yes, Master.”

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

“Yes, Master.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was safe.

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

Too quiet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was just so inspiring.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not unlike what Lady Amalia was doing at the moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something had clearly happened to her, but what?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, that cleared absolutely nothing up.

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

What she said next disarmed him completely.

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

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

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

“That’s right.” She nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, you what?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

By Yugo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not even Efrim would be able to protest that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Eliatrope hummed in response, noncommittally.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that all?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I see! Thank you, Master Glip.”

“You’re welcome…”

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

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

“Baltazar is very grateful, my dear.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Amalia! Good afternoon!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The Eliaculus—?”

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

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

“Precisely.” Grougal nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just then, the cellphone caught on fire.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good point.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘Oh’ is right.” Grougaloragran deadpanned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You mean breathe in?” The doll offered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And panic they did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Amalia could feel her eye twitch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, what do you need us to do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It would take nothing sort of a miracle to escape.

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

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

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

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

She had vanished without a trace.

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

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

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

Kingship was a full-time job.

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

Something was wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

Once again, Adamaï could only wince.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Black, white, and red feathers?”

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geekgirles · 2 months ago

Text

The Doll and the Dragon

Chapter 9: Close to His Heart

Word Count: 36,047

Read on AO3

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Chapter Summary: "In the wake of her last encounter with Efrim, Amalia is plagued by questions and insecurities that are greatly affecting her mood, which doesn't go unnoticed by Yugo. In an attempt to take her mind off it all, he offers to take her on a whole new adventure. On the way, will Amalia find the answers she's been seeking on how to move forward? And, who knows? Perhaps she won't be the only one to learn new things about herself."

Something was wrong with Amalia, that much was obvious.

Yugo had noticed something wasn’t right about two weeks ago, when he came by to her room to check up on her and ask her if Nora had reached out to her in the end. Normally, when he visited Amalia—which was almost daily at that point—, her face would split into this dazzling smile that never failed to make him feel valued and appreciated. Whenever Amalia smiled at him like that, he somehow felt more important than when he had to fulfil his kingly duties. It was a little hard not getting addicted to that smile.

The fact that her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes then, even if he could tell she was glad to see him, should have been his first warning. But he took her answer that she was just tired from working on her garden and pulling an all-nighter just to be all caught up with her studies at face value and didn’t push the issue.

His concern spiked up, however, when she tensed up the moment he asked about Nora. It was brief, but he definitely registered the way her smile faltered at his question, her brows knitted in an emotion he couldn’t quite identify, a shadow passing over her features fleetingly. But before he had a chance to ask what was wrong, it was gone, the suspiciously faint curl of her lips back on her face. Amalia just said everything was fine between her and Nora, and that they had a very eye-opening conversation (was it just him, or did she actually hesitate when she said that?) before each had to leave for their respective duties of the day.

When it became apparent she wouldn’t be saying anything else on the matter, Yugo, concerned as he was, chose to let the matter go. He could always ask her later, when she felt ready to talk if something really did happen. However, when he suggested they went out to her balcony to chat like they usually did—since he had already had a sparring session with Adamaï so he wouldn’t be training that day—, he was not-so-pleasantly taken aback when Amalia instead told him she still felt quite tired and asked if they could leave it for another day.

That should have been his second warning, the alarms blaring a little louder this time.

Still, he respected her wishes and left her to her own devices, hoping to be able to spend more time together another time. Although he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel more rejected than he cared to admit.

But the biggest sign of all, the one that forced him to confront the fact that something was very much not okay with Amalia was the fact that her melancholic and detached behaviour went on for days. Even though she didn’t stop welcoming him into her room and they had gone back to talking to each other on her balcony, as of late, their conversations had become nearly one-sided on Yugo’s part. No matter what he told Amalia about his day, the most he got out of her were noncommittal comments or sounds, meant to give off the illusion that she was paying rapt attention to him when she was anything but. The few times the king successfully encouraged her to open up and share her day with him, the doll limited herself to vague retellings like, “Oh, you know, the usual. I woke up, had some breakfast, worked a little on my garden before having lunch, then I went to class, had dinner… Nothing new.”

Her attitude was a far cry from the energetic, vivacious, and overly curious doll Yugo had come to know and appreciate over the course of the past few months. Whereas just a few weeks ago Amalia would have told him anything and everything about her day, as well as eagerly listened to what he had to say, hanging onto his every word with almost as much reverence as he listened to her, now she seemed to always be lost in thought, her vibrant brown eyes shining with a certain sadness as they trained in on images that only existed in her mind.

At first he thought she was just homesick, but that idea was immediately shot down when the doll insisted she wasn’t exactly thinking about her father and sisters with more vehemence and conviction than anything else she had said recently.

The king also tried asking around in case anyone knew anything, but no matter whom he asked, they all responded in the negative, shrugging their shoulders and explaining that, while they had indeed noticed something was amiss with Lady Amalia, neither of them had any idea as to what might have caused it. The only ones he didn’t ask were the Turquoise Twins; in Efrim’s case, because he knew the dragon would make some sort of disparaging comment towards Amalia, or make his already blatantly clear distrust of her known once more, or both; and he really wasn’t in the mood to argue with his little brother for the umpteenth time. And in Nora’s… Well, because she actually seemed a little… jumpy as of late? Which he supposed made sense, seeing as her twin’s behaviour clearly affected her more than she was willing to admit.

But the way Amalia kept absentmindedly stirring her soup with her spoon, her head resting against her knuckles, when she had yet to take a single bite was the last straw. It was there that he crossed the line because he had gathered, and seen with his own two eyes, how little Amalia had been eating as of late. Divine Doll or not, she had to eat something or she would wither away like a flower in Descendre. If whatever that was on her mind was serious enough to get her to overlook her health, then there was nothing he wasn’t willing to do to put a stop to it.

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

Lazy circles formed within the creamy white liquid presented in front of her, chunks of the steamed molluscs she vaguely remembered the chef ranting on about as he introduced today’s lunch to them emerging from the broth before submerging themselves again with the next swirl of her spoon. Any other day, the aroma of the tangy clams combined with the richness of the cream-based broth would have been mouthwatering.

Now, though?

Now the longer she stared at her food the more her stomach closed shut, refusing to take even one spoonful.

It wasn’t exactly that she wasn’t hungry—she had barely eaten anything in days and was already beginning to feel the all-consuming void in her belly demanding sustenance. It was simply that the moment she tried ingesting anything, her frazzled nerves would act up and cause her dinner to refuse to stay down. Well, her dinner, and breakfast, and lunch…

And here she thought going through Eliatrope portals was bad. Now she felt like she was stuck in one even as her feet were planted firmly on the ground.

Nevertheless, that was nothing compared to the storm brewing inside her mind, her thoughts refusing to quiet down even in the middle of the night. She would toss and turn for hours on end before she was able to catch a single wink of sleep, and when she succeeded, it was all for naught—her dreams were restless, invaded by the very same worries she had been trying to run away from by making it to Draconiros’ realm.

Whenever she closed her eyes, it was Efrim’s voice that resonated in her mind, and it was all she could do not to cover her ears with her hands and fall to her knees as she begged him to stop.

But the worst part of all was the undeniable truth that, regardless of the unnecessary brutality of his methods, the dragon was right.

Ever since she arrived at Oma Island, she had prided herself in her role of bridging the gap between Twelvians and Eliatropes. A role she was more than happy to fulfil. Truth be told, even though she was willing to do whatever it took to achieve her goal, Amalia would be lying if she said she so much as had an idea how. Looking back, she hadn’t really taken the initiative to bring all races together, it was all Master Joris and his mistresses’ doing that they were even invited to the banquet at Bonta. At no point did she reach out first. Of course, the very reason the Bontarians and the rest of the Council of Twelve even considered interacting with the Eliatropes was because her very presence encouraged them to, but that didn’t change the fact that Amalia hadn’t done anything to ensure that interest other than to exist.

Deep down, all she wanted was to be of help to Yugo and his people, and she took her role with the utmost seriousness, as she did everything in her power to help the attending Council members to leave a good impression on the Twelvians. Likewise, one of her biggest motivators for working day and night on her garden was the very possibility of helping the king. Despite everything, however, Amalia had to admit, not without some remorse, that she had been far too engrossed in learning more about the Eliatropes to really broach the topic on how to help the Twelvians learn more about them, too, and vice versa.

She stopped stirring her chowder altogether, her hand halting in its movements before falling beside the plate, unknowingly taking the spoon with her and leaving a stain on the tablecloth. Her brown eyes, already distant from the whirlwind of emotions overtaking her body and soul, grew even more morose, the stinging feeling coming back as the all-too-familiar tears threatened to make a comeback. But she kept them at bay, far too used to that state of mind to be as affected anymore.

The glossy tint her eyes took didn’t go away.

Could she truly say she had been learning more about the Eliatropes when in all the time she spent on Oma she knew nothing at all? When she remained blissfully unaware of the true source of Efrim’s animosity towards her? When she never even entertained the thought that the Twelvians’ refusal to welcome the Eliatropes was because they indeed didn’t belong to their world? Could she really say she was there to help when she didn’t even know the reason why the Eliatropes settled in the World of Twelve in the first place?

She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must’ve felt like to lose everything you knew and loved at the hands of those who once were your closest allies…

That day, as she stared at the mural depicting the battle against the Mechasms, horrified that such cruelty was even possible, it was as if the scars, both physical and mental, that marred each and every single Eliatrope had torn Amalia’s skin, her heart bleeding from the inside out under the weight of her new understanding of the situation.

As she stood there, the words stuck in her mouth while her tears streamed freely down her cheeks, all the doll wanted to do was wipe off the tears of each and every one of the Eliatrope children and engulf them into a big hug in hopes of making things even if just a tiny bit easier. She wanted to hold the hand of every person who had lost a loved one during the war and tell them everything was going to be okay, over and over again. Maybe if she repeated it enough, she would start believing it herself.

She wanted to tend to the ill and injured and summon as many medicinal herbs and plants as her magic allowed her to so as to alleviate Qilby and Shinonomé’s burden as much as she could. She wanted to fall to her knees, bring her hands together, and pray alongside Mina and Phaeris, begging her father, or the Great Goddess Eliatrope, or whatever god that was willing to lend her an ear to put an end to the massacre. She wanted to hold the Eliatrope children close and take all their pain away, just like Baltazar and Glip. She wanted to help and lead civilians away from danger, like Nora and Efrim had. She wanted to do everything in her power to help Chibi and Grougaloragran find a solution to their problems, whatever that might be and whatever it may take from her. And she wanted to be by Yugo and Adamaï’s side as they battled the Mechasms, never mind if she used every last drop of wakfu coursing through her veins as long as she could give them a fighting chance.

She just wanted to help. To help them and wash all their pain and suffering away.

But she couldn’t, because she realised with a painful pang in her chest and a lump that formed in her throat as powerless tears threatened to choke her, that she still knew nothing about true agony. She wasn’t there to witness the fall of the Eliatropes’ home planet and what its loss meant to its people. She had never lost anything or anyone.

Her family was composed of immortals that lived far beyond mortal reach unless one was already dead. And even that didn’t pose any threat, as none of the souls entering Sadida’s dimension would ever think of so much as laying a finger on the Leafy God and his daughters, for they were sacred to them.

And given the doll’s own youth, it wasn’t like she had had the chance to know and lose someone. For all intents and purposes, Amalia knew not what grief was like.

In fact, the most miserable she had been was when Yugo started treating her coolly by keeping his distance all those weeks back. Her faraway look hardened into a glare at the memory. Could she be any more selfish? There she was, acting all offended and wronged just because the king wasn’t paying attention to her while he had to lead his people and rebuild their civilisation, all the while juggling his own heartbreak over their loss, no doubt.

Efrim was right. She would never understand. And worst of all, she wasn’t sure she even wanted to. She didn’t think she’d be able to survive the sheer tragedy that had befallen the Eliatropes, and she couldn’t help but be disgusted at herself for her cowardice.

She almost scoffed when her mind traced back to Efrim’s attack, how easily he had disarmed and overpowered her.

“Some demigoddess you are.”

As the taunts echoed loudly in her mind, causing her to flinch and close her eyes as if in pain for the umpteenth time at the memory, there was nothing she could do to stop the red hot fire of shame from coursing through her veins. And to think just a moment ago she had been imagining herself fighting by Yugo and Adamaï’s side… She shook her head to rid herself of those silly fantasies. She ought to be realistic: if she were to enter a battlefield now, she would only be a liability.

Amalia knew deep down that her powers weren’t the problem. She was well aware that her divine nature gave her quite an edge over most other adversaries, seeing as her attacks carried a certain power most mortals could only ever dream of, meaning she could easily outclass most opponents. No, the problem came from within. She was the problem.

What good was it to have immense power over plant-life if she always froze up whenever faced with an actual issue that might justify going on the offensive?

Images of her recent encounter with Efrim and of Count Harebourg’s deranged advances came flooding back, unbidden, mocking her. Her fists clenched tightly on the table as she tried to fight the painful memories off. Both times she had faced demigods who didn’t want her around—or, in the Count’s case, who wanted her too much—, and both times she froze up and let them overpower her even when she could have easily given herself some time by snaring them with her brambles.

There was no point in denying it anymore; her magic would be of little use to her if she simply didn’t know how to use it to its full potential and she stood like an Elante in headlights in the face of danger.

But what hurt the most, loath as she was to admit it, was the way Efrim had hurt her pride. No matter how much she didn’t want it to be true, she depended far too much on Yugo, especially to get her out of trouble when she felt overwhelmed. But, as the dragon had all so helpfully pointed out, Yugo wouldn’t always be there…

She slid her bowl away from her. No point in even pretending she was going to take a single bite anymore. Not when she was plagued by conflicted feelings and emotions.

On the one hand, the idea of not always being able to rely on Yugo terrified her more than she dared to admit. She had got so used to his presence, to knowing she could always count on him—be it to share her latest discoveries with him or to have someone to talk to, knowing he would always defend her—that the mere thought of finding herself without him one day was unbearable.

He was her best friend; she craved and cherished his company more than anything.

But on the other hand, she was a Divine Doll, created by Sadida himself to be exceptional and to need no one but herself. Compared to the other demigods on the World of Twelve, who were essentially mortals with longer lifespans and stronger powers, she and her sisters were truly remarkable. Their father needed not to find a suitable mate, he crafted them himself and brought them to life, sharing a part of his essence to ensure they got to live. And not just as animated dolls, but as actual people. Their feelings were their own; their thoughts and opinions didn’t hinge on Sadida’s; the Doll Master trusted them enough to let them venture off into the world on their own whenever it was required of them; and he loved them so much he made sure they would get to call Inglorium their home.

From her time with Kérubim and Atcham, the doll had learned no other god showed the same courtesy to their children. The closest thing would be how each Ecaflip demigod and demigoddess had access to Ecaflipus, but according to the feline brothers, that was more like a hide-out, rather than an actual home, and it was still heavily influenced by Ecaflip’s bias towards his own children. Every other person with divine parentage was doomed to roam the world of the living, with no chance of ever getting to see the realm of the gods until their time had come.

All that power within her reach, and she still had to rely on someone else to take care of her, because she clearly couldn’t protect herself?

Hot shame enveloped her entire being once more and she bit down on her bottom lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. She couldn’t go on like this.

She barely registered a murmur coming from her left.

What kind of demigoddess couldn’t even take care of herself?

“...lia.”

Why did she always freeze in fear whenever she was in the face of danger?

“A…lia.”

How could she be so stupid as to think she could help Twelvians and Eliatropes alike if she couldn’t even help herself—?

“Amalia.”

She blinked, the sound of her name being called breaking her out of her trance and bringing a new sense of clarity with it, cutting through the thick fog of her self-inflicted berating. Blinking rapidly a few more times, she eventually regained her bearings. The mostly untouched bowl of that creamy substance was the clam chowder the chef had prepared that day for lunch, and the vast expanse of white underneath the tablecloth. Her brown eyes darted back and forth in the space around her, reacquainting herself with the room. The several members of the kitchen staff waiting on her, standing perfectly straight until she declared she was done with her food so they could move on to the next dish. The large, u-shaped table she was seated at, because the Council of Six liked to be able to talk to each other freely and see each other when they ate. The varied arrangement of cutlery displayed right underneath her nose she remembered from her etiquette classes in preparation for the feast in Bonta.

And that was when it hit her. She was having lunch—which lately meant holding impossibly long staring contests with her food—in the dining room.

“Amalia, are you okay?” The soft, caring, yet deep voice that never failed to send a pleasant shiver down her spine spoke again, drawing her attention to its source. Despite the many tumultuous thoughts running through her mind, she couldn’t help but offer a small smile.

Yugo.

He was smiling back, though his was tentative, almost afraid, as if he feared she might break right in front of him at any given moment. There was no hiding the genuine concern glinting in his dark brown eyes as they stared intently into her own. For a moment, Amalia wondered why he would be looking at her like that, before his previous question registered in her mind and she found herself in the very same impasse they had been reaching for the past few days.

Just like all the other times before it, a part of Amalia desperately wanted to tell Yugo that, no, she was not fine. She was being plagued by doubts regarding her self-worth and value within his court. Doubts that had been spurred on by his youngest brother lunging at her and pinning her against the floor as she utterly failed to defend herself, proving just how useless she was even with the unyielding and insurmountable power of nature at her disposal.

She wanted to tell him everything so badly…

But, like every single time before, just as she was about to open her mouth and confess her innermost fears and thoughts, Nora’s desperate pleas to not breathe a word to Yugo came flooding back. With clasped hands and fearful, pink eyes, she begged the doll to let her take care of her twin, as he and Yugo had been clashing over her presence on the island for a long time and the last thing she wanted was to further stress her older brother and king. Despite her better judgement, Amalia found herself agreeing with Nora and promising to keep Yugo out of this—he already did so much, for her and for his people; the last thing he needed was for her to add more to his plate.

And so, once again, the Sadida Doll chose to swallow back down the words clashing against her throat, clamouring for freedom, and simply gave a slight nod of her head.

“Oh, yes, I’m perfectly fine. Thanks for asking.” Saying that had all but become second nature at this point.

“Are you sure?” This time, she was slightly startled to remember they weren’t alone, her head immediately snapping at the new voice. As she turned to her left, staring straight past Yugo, she came face to face with a draconic face covered with white and blue scales. Oh, that was right. Adamaï was there with them, too. She had honestly forgotten.

“What do you mean, Adamaï?” She asked, grimacing to herself when her voice sounded weaker than she would’ve liked.

He merely pointed his own spoon in her direction, “You barely touched your food. What’s the matter? Is it not to your liking?”

Her eyes trailing back to her—mostly untouched and most likely cold—plate of chowder, the doll deflated slightly, turning her face away from the Emerald Twins—why were they known as the ‘Emerald Twins’ though? Amalia had heard many of their subjects refer to them and the other members of the Council like that or with similar naming conventions, but she still had to understand what emeralds and such had to do with Yugo and Adamaï. “No, no. Everything is delicious.”

Her voice sounded pathetically small even to her ears.

As the doll went back to staring silently at her discarded food, a crestfallen expression etched onto her face, the Eliatrope and his dragon twin shared concerned glances. Even if they didn’t share a telepathic link, they would have known what the other was thinking even without words.

“I’m worried about her, Ad.” Yugo told his brother, his eyes continuously going back to Amalia. “She seems down, she barely talks anymore, and she barely eats anything lately.”

“Her sudden change in demeanour is quite strange…” The dragon agreed, taking a spoonful of his own soup. “Just the other day, she was practically buzzing with excitement over the idea of showing her progress in her garden to us.”

“And now she doesn’t even have the energy to share how her day’s been when we talk…” Yugo finished for him, letting out a pained sigh.

After a minute of silence where the two just sent furtive glances the doll’s way, trying to earn a reaction out of her, Adamaï went and voiced the thoughts running through their minds. “You said she’s been like this since the day after Nora talked to her. Are you sure nothing happened between the two?”

“What could have possibly happened, Ad? Amalia’s never had any trouble with Nora, and vice versa. In fact, you know as well as I do that our dear sister has always been very accepting of her, so I simply don’t see what could have gone wrong!” His mind traced back to all the times Nora made an approving comment of Amalia or not-so-subtly flirted with her, taking refuge in her own audacity and the fact that it all flew right over the doll’s head to avoid the consequences.

Seeing his brother pout, Adamaï couldn’t help himself, “Careful, Brother. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re jealous of Nora.” If looks could kill, the glare he shot him should have buried him several metres feet under already. Pursing his lips awkwardly, he let out a sheepish, “Sorry.”

After a tense few seconds, with a loud exhale, Yugo’s expression melted into one of resignation, and even that wasn’t enough to draw Amalia’s attention to them. “I really don’t know what could’ve caused this, Ad. As you said, not that long ago she was perfectly fine! But you just saw it for yourself; every time I try asking her if anything’s wrong, she insists she’s fine even when she’s clearly not!”

Adamaï hummed, coming to hold his chin between his claws. “Have you tried asking Nora about it? You might have better luck with her.” But the king just shook his head ruefully.

“Getting a hold of Nora these past few days is even more difficult than getting an honest answer out of Amalia. I think she’s still reeling from Efrim’s actions back in the garden. Even if she doesn’t like to let it show, she’s worried sick about him.”

“She’s not the only one…” Adamaï commented drily. He averted his gaze as he thought back on his little brother and his worryingly paranoid attitude upon welcoming Amalia. And to think, not that long ago, that same dragon spent his time making flower crowns for the children alongside his sister…

He let out a resigned sigh; no point in dwelling in the past now. Not when the present already demanded their full attention. He set his own spoon down, having finished with his chowder. As Serviette, one of the kitchen staff, hurried to take his bowl away and set down the main course in front of him, he asked Yugo, “So if talking to either of them is futile, what do you suggest we do?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking you for help.” Yugo deadpanned.

“Okay, okay. I’ll admit I walked right into that one.�� He just raised his claws defensively, a fork and a knife in each one. Interestingly, that got a reaction out of Amalia, who arched a questioning eyebrow at them, causing the twins to smile sheepishly and insist it was nothing. With that crisis averted, the white-and-blue dragon sliced a piece of roasted Gobball leg and brought it to his mouth with his fork as he considered their options.

“For better or worse, it’s obvious Amalia doesn’t feel like talking about whatever it is that’s bothering her.” He began.

“I see your detective skills are as sharp as always, Brother.” Yugo commented drily, a sarcastic eyebrow raised. He could only roll his eyes when his twin flashed him an annoyed glare.

“Hey, being the sarcastic, logical twin is my thing,” he protested, pointing an accusatory fork at his king. “You’re the earnest, emotionally-driven one, okay? Let’s not get any funny ideas…”

Choosing to ignore the way his brother rolled his eyes yet again, Adamaï went back to trying to come up with a way to help Yugo and, by extension, Amalia. As he pondered on what to do, his attention was drawn to a falling leaf that had drifted into the room through an open window. Looking up, he squinted his eyes at the sight of the filtering sunrays leaking into the room, catching a glimpse of the passing clouds above them.

In a way, this world’s skies were both as similar to their own as they were foreign. Not for the first time, Adamaï felt the inescapable yearning for adventure that always pulled him and Yugo away from home back in their world. Back then, they never thought twice about it—the moment adventure came calling for them, they answered her call.

Now, however, the Emerald dragon couldn’t help but feel stifled and trapped as they were forced to remain still in one place lest they risked putting the natives on edge. And he knew for a fact his restlessness was nothing compared to Yugo’s. The only reason the guy didn’t declare himself a nomad was because he was their king and he loved his family and subjects too much to ever think of abandoning them for good.

Not for the first time, Adamaï found himself genuinely impressed by Sadida’s talent for matchmaking. Even without knowing a single thing about the Eliatrope King, the daughter the Leafy God sent Yugo was perfect for him. Adamaï and Yugo used to believe no one could possibly love exploring more than the two of them, yet, lo and behold, Amalia was as passionate about the idea of leaving the palace and venturing into the unknown as they were.

Sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder how Amalia didn’t go completely insane from being all but locked up in Oma Island, seeing as she depended on Yugo to leave the palace premises and even when he was with her he didn’t dare step foot outside their island. Truth be told, Adamaï knew he wouldn’t have been able to stand it if had he been in her shoes—or…complete lack thereof, as a matter of fact, given how the doll preferred to go barefoot at all times—; he would have completely lost it hadn’t it been for the banquet at Oma and—.

He straightened in his seat as realisation hit him, his head turning to face his brother so fast he almost gave himself whiplash, and Yugo was staring at him with his eyebrows shooting up to the ceiling. A tentative grin forming on his face—before he reluctantly had to reassume his neutral expression due to Yugo warning him he was doing that thing where he looked downright creepy even if he tried to appear friendly—, he finally said, “Why not distract her?”

“What?” Yugo blinked, not following.

“You want to help Amalia deal with whatever she’s going through, right?” When his twin nodded, he continued. “Well, it’s clear she doesn’t feel ready to open up about whatever’s bothering her, so why don’t you just take her mind off of it for a bit? Obsessing over it won’t help her either, might as well forget all about it for a while and have some fun.”

Yugo actually considered it for a moment, the ears of his hood twitching in interest. As always, Ad had a point. More often than not, when he had something on his mind or faced a problem that wasn’t easy to solve but he didn’t feel ready to share his burden with his twin and the rest of their siblings just yet, he usually tried to give himself some respite by taking his mind off of it. Which usually involved training until he was too exhausted to think, spending time with Amalia, or both.

With that in mind, it was only natural Amalia would only feel worse the more she thought about whatever was on her mind, especially if she still didn’t feel like opening up. In that case, the best thing he could do for her really was to help her relax and forget about her issues, even if it was just for a little while. Maybe then she would finally feel comfortable enough to confide her insecurities in him.

His mind made up just in time for Serviette to take his plate, too, he leaned closer to his dragon twin, “And what do you suggest I do?”

Adamaï’s smirk widened. Taking advantage of their mind link, he was free to tell Yugo even the things they were careful to keep to themselves even in the presence of their siblings. For his part, the more Yugo listened to his brother’s suggestion, the more his eyes widened, completely taken aback. That was honestly the last thing he expected Adamaï to come up with.

His mind still reeling, he couldn’t help but ask, “Are you sure?”

The dragon just shrugged. “If she doesn’t perk up at that, then nothing will get a reaction out of her.”

“No, but… Ad, I mean if you’re sure it’s a good idea.”

“I understand it can be a little risky, but might as well try, right? After all, you’ll be safer there, all things considered.”

Once again, his twin raised a very valid point. Technically, they should be safer there; there was a reason why the two of them ever went there in the first place, after all. But that didn’t mean he felt comfortable with the prospect of possibly endangering Amalia or his people’s already fragile acceptance amongst the Twelvians.

As in reading his thoughts, and, all things considered, he probably had, Adamaï was quick to dissuade his brother’s worries by placing a claw on his shoulder and flashing him an encouraging grin. “Yugo, it’s okay. Seriously, the only place I can think of that she might be safer in is the Sadida Kingdom. But if you do encounter trouble, just remember I’ll be able to sense it and come to your rescue right away.” He finished with a cheeky wink.

Despite everything, Yugo couldn’t help but smile, grateful for having the best brother in the Krosmoz. “Thanks, Ad.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go get ‘er, Tiger.”

Rolling his eyes playfully, the king had to stifle down a snort at Adamaï’s antics. He was usually so serious and composed, if he didn’t know him as well as he did, he might’ve been taken aback by the dragon’s many different sides. As it were, however, he was more than used to it.

Brown eyes glancing over to the wilting flower staring off into space right next to him, Yugo set his mind back on the task at hand. When he called out to her and she actually seemed startled by the intensity in his voice, he had to force himself to dial it back down a bit, instead opting for a friendlier, more casual approach.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Her heart still beating a little faster than usual, Amalia quickly shook her head to snap out of her trance. “It… It’s okay, Yugo. I was just lost in thought…”

The king bit back a retort about how she seemed to be lost in thought a lot lately and plunged ahead towards his goal with unwavering determination. “Are you busy these days?”

The doll blinked, confused. “Ehrm… not really? I mean, I still have to tend to my garden, but ever since the kids started their training, I don’t have to go to Glip and Baltazar’s lessons, so I guess that leaves me with much more free time.”

“Great!” He beamed, and that alone was enough to send a flutter to Amalia’s heart, the sweet rhythm it now beat a stark contrast to the anxious tempo of the last few days. “Then are you free to go out with me?”

It was like hearing bells, those words alone awakening her from the restless slumber she had fallen under. As the almost forgotten thrill of anticipation danced through her fingertips and slowly made its way all over her body, the doll’s eyes twinkled. “Go out? You mean, like when you took me to the beach, or to see the village?”

The grin never leaving his face, Yugo nodded, a newfound sense of hope finding its way into his heart. It was incredible how Amalia’s entire demeanour changed at the prospect of adventure. Sometimes he still struggled to believe a girl like her, one that cherished the call to adventure about as much as he and Adamaï did, was even real.

Amalia, who was already at the edge of her seat at the prospect of leaving the palace walls, which had become all the more stifling after her last encounter with Efrim, as each time she turned around a corner she feared she would stumble into him; suddenly felt her cheeks grow hot when Yugo leaned in close into her personal space, his hair brushing the side of her face.

And yet, despite the way her heart was hammering in her chest at the close proximity, it still stopped when he whispered into the shell of her ear, “Only this time, we’ll be leaving Oma Island.”

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

With a pained groan and weak knees, Amalia stumbled forward and onto the ground on all fours, using her hands for support. She grimaced as the familiar dry heaving raked her body, though, thankfully, nothing came out. Yugo came to her aid, crouching down by her side and rubbing soothing circles on her back as she recovered. She could feel the bandages against her bare skin.

“What is it with you Eliatropes and completely ignoring my more than justified refusal to go through your portals?” She whined pitifully, the somersaults in her stomach gradually subsiding.

“Hey, look at the bright side.” Yugo tried to console her with his never-ending optimism—most of the time, Amalia found that quality of his to be adorable and inspiring; now it was just plain annoying. “Before you know it, you’ll be able to go through portals no problem!”

“Nora said the exact same thing the other day and my answer still hasn’t changed.” The doll grumbled, making a face as she wiped drool off her face with the back of her hand.

That got Yugo’s attention, or rather, the implications behind her words.

“You’ve gone through one of Nora’s portals? When?”

Suddenly, the reason the Divine Doll’s mahogany complexion paled had nothing to do with her upset stomach. Silently cursing herself for her slip of the tongue, Amalia hastily tried to stand up as she shrugged the matter off, “O-oh! Y-you know, the other day. It was nothin—woah!” Unfortunately for her, she had stood up too fast while her body was still recovering, causing a dizzy spell to overtake her and send her tumbling down.

At least, that was what Amalia was expecting. Instead, she collided against something firm and warm. Her brow furrowed in confusion, she blindly pawed at the solid surface she had stumbled into, her eyes widening when two strong arms snaked around her waist. Looking up, she was startled to find herself face-to-face with Yugo—literally—, who didn’t waste any time catching and pulling her close to him when it looked like she was about to fall down.

A soft blush crept up on both of their cheeks as they stared deep into each other’s eyes, brown orbs meeting their counterpart and refusing to break the contact. They were so close their noses almost touched, and their warm breaths mingled. Ironically, the feeling of Yugo’s warm exhales tickling Amalia’s neck was enough to make her shiver. Neither noticed when they began to lean in close, their eyes slowly fluttering shut.

Just as they were about to close the distance, however, the doll’s eyes snapped open in shock, embarrassment coursing through her veins as she abruptly remembered she had just been dry heaving and, even though she didn’t actually throw up, she couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about her breath. But even as she awkwardly broke the embrace Yugo had her in and he sent her an equally sheepish grin at the same time as he rubbed the back of his head nervously, a small part of Amalia couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened hadn’t she pulled away at the last moment.

Her thoughts swirling, she almost didn’t hear the Eliatrope King when he said, “A-anyway.” He cleared his throat. Was she imagining things, or did his voice sound a little strained right now? “S-sorry about that, Amalia. I know you really hate portals but, as you know, it’s the only way to make it to the village.”

She snapped to attention when the meaning of his words finally registered in her mind.

“Oh!” She so eloquently exclaimed. She shrugged, pretending to be a lot more unaffected by the whole thing than she actually was. “W-well, it can’t be helped, I suppose. I’d just wish I didn’t have to go through an Eliatrope portal every other day.”

“Ah, but that’s no trouble at all!” Yugo exclaimed, earning himself an odd look from Amalia as the two of them fell into an easy march in the direction of the Eliatrope village. “We could always just get you a house at the village, that way you wouldn’t have to go through a portal to get there. See? Problem solved!”

In response, the doll just snorted at his antics, shaking her head while she waved the mere notion off with one hand. “Oh, no. No way. Forget it.”

“Why? It’s the perfect solution!”

“Because,” she sent him a pointed yet playful look, “I would still have to use portals to go to the palace. It’s literally the same problem but backwards!”

The king pretended to consider it, making a show of tapping a finger against his chin pensively as he looked upwards in thought. “I suppose you’re right.” He finally admitted with an exaggerated shrug, causing Amalia to try and stifle her giggles behind her hands.

“Though, now that I think about it, it would also pose another problem.” He added, his tone never losing the levity befitting of the conversation.

“Really now? And what do you suggest that is, Your Majesty?”

“Why, Lady Amalia! Isn’t it obvious?” He leaned closer into her personal space, never stopping his march, capturing her full attention as she looked up at him in wonder.

The impish glint in his brown eyes softened into something undeniably affectionate when she breathed out, “What is it?”

“I wouldn’t be able to see you every day. I would miss you terribly.”

Yugo surprised even himself with the sincerity of that statement, for he realised he meant each and every word he said. He had grown so accustomed to Amalia being a fixed feature in his life, that the mere idea of not seeing her every day filled him with dread and a strong sense of longing. In fact, while the doll stared back at him—her doe-like eyes glimmering and her round cheeks flushed with colour—, the unbearable urge to reach out and close the distance between them threatened to consume him.

He was about to take her hands when Bartoloblé’s jovial voice broke them out of their stupor. Whatever fragile yet tangible moment between them was now lost.

“King Yugo, Lady Amalia!” He greeted them, making his way over to them even as he carried a basket full of freshly baked bread under one arm. “It is always a pleasure to see you! But, what brings you here today? Another meeting with the other Council members?”

He used his free hand to jab his thumb in the direction of the Eliatrope temple. Now that Amalia was paying attention, she finally realised they had reached their destination, they just needed to climb up the stairs leading to the main square.

“Gotta warn you, though. Pretty sure the only members around are Mina and Phaeris, and they seemed to be locked into a pretty intense prayer last time I checked.”

Yugo raised a hand with a smile while the doll nodded by his side. “That’s perfectly fine, Bartoloblé. Thanks anyway. I was just about to show Amalia around, there’s this place I’ve been meaning to take her to.”

The baker perked up, his own grin growing. “Oh, I see!” He rummaged through his basket before picking up a loaf of bread he extended to his king and their divine guest. “Would you like to take some for the road?” His expression deflated slightly when his leader just shook his head instead.

“That’s quite alright, old friend. There’s plenty of food where we’re going.”

Although it took him a moment, the Eliatrope baker recovered fast, the smile back on his face. After putting the baked goods back in his basket, he tilted his chef hat in their direction before going his way. “Well, in that case, I’ll let you be. I still gotta deliver these,” he pointed at the basket, “to my customers. Until next time!”

As Bartoloblé climbed up the stairs and began his tour around town to deliver his customers’ orders, after waving him goodbye, Yugo and Amalia resumed their own walk. The Eliatrope King’s words replaying in her mind, her brow furrowed in interest, the Sadida Doll couldn’t help but ask, “Yugo?”

He hummed in response.

“Where exactly are we going?”

He chuckled. “I told you, we’re leaving Oma Island for a bit.”

“Yes, I know that. But I mean, where are we going if it’s not on Oma Island? Isn’t it dangerous to leave the island while the Twelvians still haven’t fully accepted you? And, most importantly, how are we even going to leave the island? As far as I’m concerned, we don’t have recall potions…”

Even as she spat her rapid-fire questions, the two of them never stopped walking, absentmindedly, though not any less kindly, greeting the villagers as they remarked on their king and the doll’s presence. As Yugo enthusiastically returned a kid’s wave, he glanced down at Amalia from the corner of his eye in amusement. Unable to contain himself, he chuckled, “You know, those are an awful lot of questions… I don’t think I’ll be able to remember them all.”

“Yugo!” Amalia chided, her hands on her hips and a ridiculously cute pout on her lips. “Come on, I’m serious!”

“I know, Amalia. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist.” He admitted, his palms up in surrender. “I’d really wish I could tell you where we’re going…”

“But…?” Amalia deadpanned, her arms crossed as she arched an expectant eyebrow at him. There was always a ‘but.’

“But I really want it to be a surprise.” He said at last, and his earnest response alongside the ridiculously cute sheepish smile he was giving her was enough to melt away her resolve to be more firm with him and not give in until she had her answers.

As much as Amalia wanted to throw a hissy fit and demand the truth, she was powerless to stop the flutter in her chest at the king’s heartfelt attempts at doing something nice for her. She was always enveloped by this warm, wonderful feeling whenever Yugo showed how much he cared for her.

She really couldn’t have asked for a better friend.

Still, she couldn’t just let him see how genuinely touched she was by his thoughtfulness so, putting on her best haughty act, she harrumphed and made the enormous effort of looking away from him. “Can you at least tell me how we’re going to make it to this mysterious place of yours?”

Even without looking at him, she could sense his nonchalant shrug. “The way all Eliatropes go anywhere, I suppose.”

Immediately, her eyes snapped open in alarm. Her brown eyes blazing and an accusatory finger aimed straight at him, she whirled around so fast towards him, Yugo had no choice but to recoil in surprise. “Oh, Shukrute no! I already had to psych myself up to go through two of your portals today, I’m not going through any more!”

It was her turn to feel disarmed when he just smiled innocently back at her, despite finding himself, quite literally, in the face of her righteous fury. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, Amalia. I’m not making you go through another one of my portals today until it’s time to go home, I promise.”

She blinked back at him, her scowl softening into confusion. “Then… what do you mean when you say we’ll be travelling the way all Eliatropes do?”

Instead of answering, the dirty-blond boy just let an amused yet fond grin overtake his features, and used one hand enveloped in dark cloth to point upwards while the other took Amalia’s hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze. Puzzlement still evident in her features, the doll chose to, once again, trust her friend, and limited herself to following the direction his finger was pointing at, even when it meant she had to crane her neck to get a better look.

When her eyes settled on what Yugo had been pointing at and realisation washed all over her, the Divine Doll couldn’t help but gasp in surprise, her mouth agape.

“The portals…” She murmured, her voice tinged with awe.

That simple gesture had confirmed her suspicions from back when she first visited the village. Floating high above her were the oval-shaped, mirror-like artefacts she believed to be portals, and Yugo had just proven her right. Unlike an Eliatrope’s own portals, however, these didn’t seem to be made out of wakfu, something that would disappear if its wielder didn’t concentrate hard enough, but they appeared to be a fixed feature of the town. Even at a distance, Amalia could make out the different landscapes shown on the other side of them, beckoning their patrons to visit a whole new world.

Even now, they seemed to be buzzing with activity, if the never-ending blue streaks zipping through one portal to the next was any indication. Still, even though that answered several of her questions, it posed many others.

Luckily for her, Yugo seemed to have developed the uncanny ability to read her mind. So he wasted no time in providing an explanation to her unspoken questions.

“Those,” he started, pointing at the gates above, “are our Zaap Portals. Chibi and Grougal actually came up with the idea long ago.”

“But… you’re Eliatropes.” Amalia pointed out, finally looking at him. Though her forest green eyebrows were still knitted in confusion. “Your most basic ability is creating portals. Why would you need them?”

“Everybody has limits, Amalia.” He told her gently. “After all, you can’t grow your plants if there’s no workable ground, right?”

The doll thought to herself she could grow plants out of stone if there was enough wakfu to channel, but Yugo had a point. If she didn’t detect life going on around her, then her attempts at using her magic would be futile. So she just nodded along.

The king gestured back at the portals. “Well, this is our limit. The more powerful and experienced an Eliatrope is, the further their portals will take them. But there are distances that just can’t be covered. So, in order to save us the trouble of having to create long strings of portals to reach certain places, Chibi and Grougal found a way to replicate our magic and expand its range until it became some sort of teleporting gate.

“It’s our main use of transportation for travelling long-distance. Although it’s true certain characteristics in its design mean there are limitations.”

“Limitations?” Amalia tilted her head. “Like what?”

“You see, unlike our portals, which can take us wherever as long as it’s not too far away, Zaap Portals have… How do I say this?” He mumbled to himself, bringing his hand to cup his chin as he considered his words. He snapped his fingers as the perfect way to explain it came to mind. “Let’s just say it’s a bit like a trade-off.”

“A trade-off?” The doll couldn't help but feel she was only repeating what Yugo said.

He nodded enthusiastically, the ears of his hat moving along with his head. “Precisely.”

“What do you trade?”

“In this case, in exchange for the portal being always functional, it loses its range. Sure, it can take us further away than our own magic, but the places it leads to are fewer.”

“So, you’re saying the Zaap Portal might be able to take you to Bonta, for example…” Amalia started, rubbing her temple as she tried to make sense of it all.

“For example, yes.”

“But, it might lead you only to Bonta. Unlike your magic, which can take you practically anywhere as long as it’s not too far. Is that it? Did I get it right?”

“That is precisely it, Amalia.”

“So, how far exactly are we going, if we have to use the Zaap?” She asked, her head tilting up to stare up at the portal again.

“Pretty far.”

The doll deadpanned, flashing her friend an unimpressed look. She was getting really tired of his whole enigmatic, mysterious schtick. Would it kill him to give her a straight answer? Sweet Sadida, he was a demigod! Being a bit more straight-forward couldn’t possibly hurt.

Even though she already knew what he’d say, she still ventured, her arms crossed in annoyance. “Is that all you’re going to do all day? Give me clipped answers?” Groaning exasperatedly, she couldn’t deny the sudden urge to wring his pretty little neck when he said:

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Yugo!” She screeched, her face flushed from anger. With her hands balled at her hips, the Divine Doll had half a mind not to summon a small tendril to flick him on the forehead. Her pout deepened when all he did was laugh, loud and unrestrained, and place his hands on her shoulders to calm her down.

Much to her chagrin, all her previous anger melted away the second he grabbed her chin with his thumb and forefinger and gently guided her face upwards to meet his gaze. The smile he flashed her was almost blinding.

And here she thought the two things one should never look directly at were the sun and Sadida… Somebody should add the Eliatrope King’s smile to the list. Really, for safety purposes.

“I’m sorry, Amalia.” He said, his voice a soft murmur that nonetheless resonated from his chest. The doll wondered idly if she would be able to feel the tremors through her fingertips if she were to place her hands on his chest. “I promise, I’ll answer all your questions once we’ve arrived. I just really want to surprise you.”

Later that day, the young Sadida would reminisce on her actions and wonder what in the world possessed her to utter the words that left her mouth:

“Well, we’ll never get to that if we don’t make it through the portal first, right?” Then, a rare moment of clarity allowed her to momentarily break away from the pair of eyes staring intently at her, and to focus back on their way of transportation long enough to ask, “How are we going to get there, though? Should I summon a vine to lift us up?”

Just as the words left her mouth, a small gasp followed, caused by the sudden warmth of Yugo snaking his arms around her waist once more and pulling her close, their bodies flush against each other. The king’s answer was barely above a whisper. “I think I have an idea.”

Before Amalia could so much as drunkenly question what he meant, she was startled by the unexpected breach in her connection to nature. Looking down in alarm, her brown orbs widened like saucers when she finally realised her feet were no longer touching the ground, and neither were Yugo’s, as a matter of fact.

But even more surprising was watching the ground grow further and further away from them, the startling realisation that they were floating shocking Amalia to her core. She whirled her head to stare back at the king questioningly, her mouth agape, but he just shrugged and offered her a roguishly charming smile that caused warmth to erupt all over her face and chest.

Not helped at all by the wink he sent her.

“I might have a few tricks up my sleeve still, My Lady.”

“And I’m guessing one of them is flying?” She was genuinely surprised by her own coherence, given the circumstances. She had honestly forgotten he could do it.

His charming smile turned the slightest bit smug. “Maybe.”

“But… how?”

“Ah, that…” Yugo’s expression faltered, looking unsure for the first time all day. “Well, a magician can’t go revealing his secrets just like that, can he?”

The doll’s mesmerised expression morphed into confusion, her eyes squinting in disbelief as if that would help her discern the meaning behind Yugo’s words. Judging by the way he reacted, there was something he wasn’t telling her, but what?

Before her mind could linger on the topic, though, the king distracted her when his expression lit up as he took notice of something. He took one of Amalia’s hands in his and held it tightly while the other remained on her waist, though not without pulling her closer to him—if that was even possible.

“Ah, looks like we’ve arrived, Amalia. Are you ready?”

Just as he asked, Amalia turned her head to the direction he was looking at, and came to realise they were now floating with a portal right beside them. From what she could see reflected on its pristine surface, there was quite the lush forest on the other side. That immediately sent a pleasant thrill down her spine, the idea of being closer to nature bringing a certain twinkle to her eyes.

She almost dreaded to ask, “...am I going to throw up again?”

“I thought you only dry-heaved now?” Yugo couldn’t help but tease her. His chuckles soon turned sheepish when the petite wild beauty in his arms glowered at him, clearly unamused. He coughed awkwardly. “Right. Sorry. Um… I can’t say for certain? I mean, we Eliatropes certainly don’t have any trouble but…”

“But you don’t have trouble going through your portals in the first place.” Amalia finished for him. She let out a heavy sigh, resigned. “Come on, let’s get this over with. There’s a whole new bunch of innocent bushes I have yet to traumatise by puking all over them.”

“I’ll be right there beside you to help you write the apology notes.” He whispered jokingly, and this time he did manage to make her laugh.

Great Goddess above, her giggling was like hearing bells chiming in the wind. The things he wouldn’t do just to hear her laugh… If she noticed the way he held her closer to him even when it wasn’t necessary, she didn’t show. Instead, right as the Eliatrope warned her they were about to go through the portal, she closed her eyes shut in anticipation and hugged him tighter herself. Yugo’s eyes widened slightly and his heartbeat quickened considerably at the sensation of Amalia flush against him, their bodies moulding into each other seamlessly and her forest green ponytail tickling his nose. He had to force himself not to get carried away and inhale her natural scent—flowers in bloom and sunshine peeking through the forest treetops.

And so, a shiver running down his spine as she squeezed him just a little tighter while she mentally prepared herself, Yugo took that last metaphorical step into the portal with Amalia in his arms.

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

“Amalia, you can look now. We’re here.” Yugo’s soft murmur against the crown of her head broke her out of her trance.

Eyes snapping open, she pulled away from his embrace and looked around. Sure enough, they were in the middle of a forest. The presence of aspens, birches and wild flowers emanated a completely different aura from the tropical plants back at Oma. She would have immediately begun to take it all in, to let nature wash over her and reveal its secrets to her, if it weren’t for the fact that she was far too busy being flabbergasted.

“I… I don’t feel sick!” She exclaimed, incredulous, looking down at her hands with the same level of urgency as if they were covered in blood. Even more shocking was realising she was standing proud and tall instead of on wobbly feet or, even worse, tumbling down onto the ground to quite literally spill her guts. She wasn’t nauseous at all!

“Huh. It looks like you only have trouble going through one of our portals.” Yugo observed, intrigued. He placed one bandaged hand on his chin, pensively. “I wonder why that is…”

“Personally, I only really care about the fact that my food is still inside my stomach, thank you very much.” The doll quipped sarcastically.

Eyes darting all over the space, she finally allowed herself to plant her feet firmly on the ground and let her connection to nature do the talking. She smiled. The plant-life here seemed to be thriving and in perfect health.

Once she had familiarised herself with the area and its vegetation, she asked, her back to Yugo. “So, what’s the plan? Where are we?”

No sooner had the words left her mouth, the grin was back on Yugo’s face. He took her by the hand and gently spun her around until she was facing the opposite direction, where she could discern what looked like a clearing from behind the Eliatrope’s figure. Raising herself to her tiptoes in curiosity, she peeked over his shoulder, her interest piqued by what appeared to be a small village located down the hill.

“This,” the king spread his arms wide, letting go of hers, and gestured around them, “is the Forbidden Forest. And that,” he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, in the direction of the village, “is our destination for today, Emelka.”

Rather than say anything, the Divine Doll just let her eyes dart around the space, and Yugo watched as she walked around, her hand outstretched as she traced gentle lines along the tree trunks while she walked. For a moment, the king just allowed himself to take her in. The curious tilt of her head as nearby tofus sang from their nests or even flew around. The way her fingers and toes curled and uncurled in pleasure at the feeling of the different kinds of soil and bark beneath her feet and fingertips. The breeze weaving through her silky hair, making her emerald locks blend in with the greenery of the forest. The supremely serene smile that stretched over her lips at the new sensations raking her body… It was simply breathtaking.

She was breathtaking.

Right as the Eliatrope came back to his senses and was about to self-combust over the direction his thoughts had taken, the doll called out to him, causing him to muster every ounce of power he possessed not to make the way he almost jumped out of his skin too obvious.

“As much as I love being surrounded by nature,” she started tentatively but sincerely, sending her friend a knowing look. “I can’t help but feel uneasy over being in a place known as the ‘Forbidden Forest’.” She made sure to emphasise the words to get her point across. “Even the plants tell me to be careful, as there are dangers lurking around every corner…”

“Yeah, the locals say the wildlife here is unpredictable.” Yugo admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “But don’t worry, Amalia. We’re not going to stay here for long.”

“You said we’re going to Emelka, right?” When he nodded, she continued. “Then why not arrive there in the first place? Or is it a matter or range, as you told me earlier?”

“That does play a part in it, yes.” He began to march in the direction of the entrance to Emelka, Amalia right by his side every step of the way, her focus set intently on him. His eyes trailing upwards, he noticed the dark clouds hovering over them. It looked like it was going to rain. “But it’s also because it gives us some coverage and helps us go by unnoticed until we reach the village.”

The Sadida Doll frowned in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

He shrugged, but Amalia knew him well enough by now to be able to tell the action was forced, resigned. Not at all like the earnest optimism and nonchalance so characteristic of Yugo as long as his family and people’s safety wasn’t compromised. So she wasn’t surprised by what he said next, but that didn’t mean her heart didn’t break for him. “You know Twelvians aren’t exactly thrilled to have us around, Amalia.”

The way he said it, so casually, without even a hint of sadness or even anger in his voice, it was like he was just stating an undeniable fact of life. And, much to her chagrin, right now he was right. She wanted to comfort him so badly, to say the right words to get him to smile and face everything with the positive attitude that never failed to lift her spirits up when she was down. But she found herself drawing a blank.

Still, she had to try. For Yugo.

Yugo was startled out of his thoughts by a warm hand being placed on his shoulder. Looking up in surprise, he turned his face to find Amalia giving him a small, tentative smile, her brown eyes shining with empathy. Cursing himself for letting his own insecurities get to the better of him and making her sad, he rushed to plaster a smile on his face to put her at ease.

“It’s okay, though. There’s a reason why we’re coming to Emelka in the first place.”

That reminded Amalia of something he said before. “Is that why you know what the locals have to say about the forest, because you have talked to them? Yugo, have you been to Emelka before?”

She gasped when he just hummed softly and nodded in response, “But—! When? How?!” She stammered, trying to wrap her head around the notion. “I thought you guys never left Oma Island!”

“We haven’t left Oma Island in a while.” The king corrected matter-of-factly, one finger raised in her direction. “When we just arrived here, we actually did quite a bit of exploring as we searched for the perfect place to settle down, especially Ad and I.” Then, he shrugged, this time, more genuinely. “And, let’s face it, even when we started settling on Oma, there’s no way Ad and I would be able to resist the urge to go out and explore.”

“Wait, so Adamaï has been to Emelka, too?”

“Uh-huh. And that’s also the reason why I’m telling you we need to keep a low profile. Emelka might be more accepting of us, but seeing the Eliatrope King and his dragon twin out and about was still a major shock even for them.”

“Is that why you’re dressed like that today?” Amalia finally found the courage to ask, staring up at her friend up and down. …and feeling her cheeks grow hot the more she lingered in certain places.

As her eyes coursed over the king’s appearance, the doll’s mind briefly flashed back to her startled reaction when he came to pick her up earlier that day, and her cheeks coloured in embarrassment over her poorly concealed surprise. It wasn’t like Yugo looked bad—quite the contrary, really—, it was just that she was so used to seeing him in his battle suit and cloak ensemble that seeing him wear anything else was a tad jarring.

After all, the last time Yugo changed clothes was when he dressed up for the banquet at Bonta. At least then there was a reason for his sudden change in wardrobe, even if seeing him looking so sharp and elegant wasn’t any good to her poor Ogrine heart. Even now, although his outfit was far less glamorous, it still caused her heart to do somersaults in her ribcage.

Indeed, instead of his usual attire, Yugo was wearing far simpler clothing. She briefly wondered if perhaps he had taken a page out of her book and come up with his own adventuring outfit. He wore a simple, sleeveless amber shirt that clung to his sculpted physique, highlighting every chiselled line of his torso and forcing Amalia to reluctantly tear her gaze away so as to not look like a creep. Contrasting the form-fitting shirt were a pair of dark cyan pantaloons, their overall shape much more loose and less restrictive in their movements than the shirt clinging to his skin. Covering his arms, going from his knuckles up to his shoulders, and bare feet were a series of black bandages that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a Xelor’s wardrobe.

At first, Amalia had been taken aback and confused by their presence, until Yugo chuckled fondly at her stunned reaction and leaned in slightly to whisper in her ear, “My tattoos.”

Her mouth formed an ‘o’ shape at the reminder, her mind going back to the many swirls going up and down his arms and how eye-catching they would be. Thinking back now that she knew Yugo wanted to keep a low profile, it made perfect sense he would cover them up. Mesmerising as they were—not helped by the way in which they accentuated the curves of his every muscle—, those things stood out like a sore thumb. Not even an Iop would buy that he was a Sacrier and those were his tattoos.

Then again, one might think bandaging them up was overkill, seeing as his body remained perfectly concealed most of the time by the large poncho reaching past his knees that matched in colour with his pants. Completing the ensemble was Yugo’s own version of the cute hats that seemed to be customary amongst his people. Unlike his cloak, which only had those pointy ‘ears’, the hat was closer to being an amalgamation between Qilby and Glip’s. It wasn’t as long as the eldest Eliatrope’s, but it at least possessed a large tail ending in a tuft of whitish fur and the stumps on top of it looked more like ears, rather than horns.

Despite the drastic change in wardrobe, most of the time Amalia couldn’t help but feel like it showed even less of the king than his full-bodied suit. At least now she got to see the back of his head, she supposed.

His cheeks growing hot under the doll’s extensive scrutiny, Yugo looked to the side, nervously scratching his cheek with one finger. “Yeah, that’s right. I found wearing more casual clothing makes it easier to blend in.”

Before Amalia could so much as get a word in, she was taken by surprise when a sense of sudden realisation seemed to dawn over the Eliatrope. Just as she was about to ask about it, he held up a finger to her, asking her for patience, and slid his poncho open, revealing a sizable pocket sewn into the fabric.

“Here, I thought it’d be better for you to slip into it.”

Amalia’s jaw dropped. Quickly looking up and down her entire length, she mumbled. “Thanks for the compliment, but I don’t think I fit in there.”

The Eliatrope looked at her strangely for a moment before the meaning behind her words seemed to click in, his mouth contorting into an ‘o’ shape. He shook his head with a chuckle.

“No, no. Sorry. That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I was about to tell you.” He flashed her a pointed yet friendly look that made her roll her eyes. “I was actually thinking that you could shapeshift into your doll form and get inside the pocket. That way, we wouldn’t risk people seeing you and recognising you as the new Divine Doll.”

“But… Isn’t that a little unnecessary?” Amalia countered, tilting her head to the side. Then, she gestured to the length of her, and Yugo felt like smacking himself when his eyes lingered on her form just a little too long. “I mean, look at me! Unlike my sisters, I’m actually indistinguishable from a regular Sadida woman. Now that I think about it, wasn’t that the reason we met Master Joris at all? Because a bunch of Cra saw me and thought you had a Sadida with you?”

The dirty-blond man’s brow furrowed in confusion at the mention of her sisters, but he let it go with a shake of his head. Now wasn’t the time for that. “Well, that’s true. But people are going to grow suspicious if they see me with a Sadida, of all people. That’s why I think it’s better you hide, at least until we reach our destination.”

“But why? If we go together like this, they have no reason to think we’re anything but a Sadida and a non-believer.” The doll pressed on, incapable of making sense out of Yugo’s hesitance. “In fact, I’d say it’s much easier to tell you’re an Eliatrope with that hat on. If you just took it off—.”

As she talked, the Divine Doll reached out to push back the hat in question and take it off of Yugo’s head. Only for her outstretched hand to halt in mid-air when Yugo gripped at it tightly, his fingers sinking into her skin to the point she could feel his nails even through her wristbands. With a startled gasp, she looked at him in question, only for the brown of her irises to contract in fright at the sight of his own manic look.

He looked frazzled and alarmed, his brow pinched in a fierce expression, to the point one would think Amalia had just attacked him instead of simply reaching out for his hat. The fire in his eyes was so intense, the doll couldn’t help the frightened shiver from running down her spine. Over the months, she believed she had become quite familiar with all the expressions the king was capable of pulling. The incredulous raised eyebrow and subsequent exasperated roll of his eyes at his siblings’ antics. The steely glint in his brown eyes whenever he was in the middle of his kingly duties or some kind of crisis arose. The subtle but friendly upwards curl of his lips whenever he interacted with his youngest subjects. The knowing looks he and Adamaï would exchange, belying their closeness. And the immensely fond look and incredibly soft smile he had plastered on his face whenever he interacted with her.

That look was so intense, Amalia always found herself helpless against the warm feeling that would spread all over her body, starting from her chest and consuming her completely. Its warmth always spread like a wildfire, and she was nothing but kindling.

The look he now had on his face was nothing like that. Where once was fire, now it was as if an ice cold shard had pierced her heart, freezing her to her core.

His self-preservation instincts overtaking him, Yugo didn’t even register catching Amalia’s arm and gripping it tightly, his mind going on overdrive as it focused on just keeping her away from his hat. Despite the minimal exertion, he still found himself panting slightly, the reaction all but programmed into his brain. When he finally came to his senses, blinking a few times to regain his bearings, he was puzzled to find himself clutching a wrist tightly, only for horror and shame to settle in when his eyes travelled down the length of the arm and came face-to-face with Amalia.

Those beautiful, doe-like orbs of hers held the same amount of fear and shock as a deer being haunted by a Cra. Pupils wide and frantic as it remained paralysed, subconsciously embracing its upcoming demise as it watched the arrow approach, sealing its fate. His heart throbbed as he realised he had caused that reaction. He was the one who put the fear in her eyes, even if he would never mean to.

Guilt holding his heart in a vice grip, its thorns piercing through it, Yugo let go of her arm as fast as if it burned, muttering and tripping over himself as he tried to apologise. The painful pangs only resonated louder, like bells in a belltower, when all Amalia did in response was tentatively bring her forearm closer to her, placing it against her chest as her other hand soothingly caressed her sore wrist. The image reminded Yugo of Harebourg digging his digits so deep into her skin it bruised, and he immediately hated himself for repeating the Count’s mistakes.

“It…It’s okay.” She murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“Amalia…” Yugo called out to her, opening his mouth to say something, anything, but his words died in his throat when she glanced back at him with those big, sad eyes of hers. Inhaling sharply, he brought a hand to the back of his head to rub his neck in discomfort, trying to find the words. Eventually, he let out a heavy sigh.

“Amalia, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t scare me…” She tried to say, but it didn’t sound convincing even to her ears. She winced, biting down on her bottom lip. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“I know, and I am so, so sorry about that.” Yugo insisted, taking a step closer to her. He had to suppress a relieved sigh from escaping his lips when she didn’t flinch away from the action. “It’s just…” Much to his chagrin, his mouth clamped shut yet again; he had trouble finding the right words to explain things to her without having to explain too much.

Amalia just waited for him to elaborate, cradling her arm to her chest, her interest piqued. She blinked down in surprise when, instead of answering, the Eliatrope just extended his own hand out to her, his palm facing upwards. She looked back at him, perplexed, but she finally understood everything when he simply beckoned her with his fingers.

She placed her hand into his. Despite everything, just the gentle touch of Yugo softly caressing her wrist was enough for all the previous tension to melt away.

She was so busy trying not to melt as well she almost didn’t hear him when he continued, “I really am sorry for startling and hurting you like that, Amalia. That was uncalled for.” He started, and just when the doll was about to say something in return, he stopped her by raising his free hand. “But, you see, even though you are right my hat doesn’t really do a good job at hiding the fact that I’m an Eliatrope, taking it off wouldn’t really help either.”

The Divine Doll took a step forward, closing the distance between them just a little more. “How come? You guys must look indistinguishable from your usual non-believer without them!”

The Eliatrope King tilted his head from one side to the other in a so-so motion, a small grimace on his lips. “Yes and no. Never mind that, though.” He looked her deep in the eye, making sure he had her full attention. “Amalia, the reason I reacted to you reaching out for my hat like I did is because my people have a very good reason for wearing them. Taking them off in front of somebody else is a sign of deep intimacy, so we don’t feel comfortable being hatless just about everywhere.

“In fact, people we aren’t very close to reaching out for our hats without our consent is seen as very disrespectful in our culture. That’s why I reacted the way I did when you tried to do the same. But you’re not an Eliatrope, and it isn’t like this is common knowledge in the World of Twelve, either. You couldn’t have possibly known. So, again, I’m sorry for reacting the way I have.”

Trying her best to ignore the painful pang in her chest at the implication that she wasn’t as close to Yugo as she had originally thought, the doll forced a small smile to curl at her lips. “No, Yugo; it’s me who should be apologising. Even if I didn’t know about the significance behind it, it was still rude of me to get so close into your personal space and try to push your hat back without asking you first. So, for all it’s worth, I’m sorry, too.”

The king grinned down at her, his heart swelling. “Apology accepted.” He took both of her hands in his and brought them closer to him. “Speaking of asking first… What do you say? Would you be okay with turning into your doll form and staying in my pocket?”

Amalia still looked unsure. “You said it’d only be until we reach our destination, right?”

“That’s right.” He nodded enthusiastically. “It’s not even that long a trek. A thirty minute walk tops.”

Despite her reservations, Amalia eventually gave in with a sigh. She’d be lying if she said her decision wasn’t at all influenced by Yugo’s irresistible Bow Wow eyes. Then again, she supposed it could be worse; even though she hadn’t really been in her doll form for long periods of time since arriving at the World of Twelve, it still felt as natural to her as her current, human form. And so, with a nod and a small smile directed at the Eliatrope, she disappeared behind the familiar puff of smoke.

Yugo waited patiently for the smoke to clear, and when it finally did he couldn’t wipe the happy grin off his face at the sight of the small brown ragdoll at his feet looking expectantly up at him. He couldn’t believe there was a time he had ever been underwhelmed by the sight; Amalia was just so precious, with her big brown eyes, plump little green lips, and the tussled tuft of emerald hair on her head. The more he stared at her, the more he felt a tingle going down his spine.

“Can you at least open your poncho a little so I can get a glimpse of the scenery as we make our way through the village?” Amalia pleaded, and if Yugo already had a hard time denying her anything, now that she was literally an adorable little doll it was practically impossible.

“Of course.” His hands cupped in front of him, he bent down to scoop Amalia up and bring her to his eye-level as he stood back up. “What’s the point in exploring if you don’t get to see anything, am I right?” He winked at her, and he counted the way she giggled at the action and admittedly lame joke as a win.

“Now you’re getting it.” She teased right back.

Sharing one last laugh, Yugo carefully cradled Amalia’s tiny form with one hand while he used the other to open his poncho just enough to be able to put her in his pocket. Once she was close enough, Amalia gathered up her momentum and threw herself headfirst into the pocket, rolling around inside the folded fabric until she managed to straighten herself up enough to remain upright. As she burrowed herself deeper into the pocket, which was far cosier than she had anticipated, she busied herself with her bottom lip, mulling over whether she should ask Yugo the question in her mind or not.

Eventually, seeing as he didn’t just have the guts to ask her to get inside his pocket but actually got away with it, she decided to just go for it. Right after assuring him she was perfectly comfortable where she was, she looked up to him, her eyes glimmering hopefully.

“Yugo?”

“Yes, Amalia?”

“Do… Do you think you could show me what’s underneath your hat? You know, one day. When you feel comfortable with it, of course…”

Her heart, which had been beating frantically out of nervousness over possibly overstepping his boundaries again, began to thud for a completely different reason when his bewildered expression melted into one of his blinding smiles. The softness she associated with their interactions returning to his features.

“I will, Amalia. I promise.”

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

From what she could see from inside Yugo’s poncho, Emelka seemed to be a lovely place. Unlike the bustling city of Bonta, with massive buildings and endless streets stretching over the vast space until its very outskirts, the air was calm in Emelka. The streets were wide, to the point she wondered if the small town wasn’t just composed of several buildings sprawled all over the place and the resulting paths gave the illusion of there being streets. Said buildings, while far from being rundown shacks, were quite modest still; simple stone two-story houses protected by a thick layer of hay on their roofs.

The locals were unhurried and placid. Basket-carrying ladies, presumably returning from the market, stopped by their neighbours’ windowsill to partake in some healthy gossip, giggling all the while. Children ran around as they played pretend, picturing themselves as brave little adventurers off on some grand, perilous journey. Merchants, artisans, and business-owners alike welcomed potential customers into their establishments with jovial smiles, loudly announcing their offers.

The more she looked around, the more Amalia understood why Yugo liked this place so much. Although it was true they hadn’t really visited many other nations aside from Oma Island and Bonta, the streets of Emelka were far more similar to the Eliatrope village than the hectic Divine City. Just some normal people going about their day as per usual, without worrying about the intricacies of international diplomacy.

From time to time, she also got a glimpse of how people reacted to the Eliatrope King’s presence. While it was true most of them ignored him for the most part and went on with their days, others did a terrible job at subtly glaring or regarding him with a suspicious glint in their eyes. That was, if they were trying to be subtle at all. For his part, the king remained the epitome of courtesy and cordiality, kindly greeting everyone that so much as crossed his path or locked eyes with him, however brief the exchange was.

Whenever Amalia noticed a particularly intense stare directed at her friend, she couldn’t help but burrow herself deeper into his pocket, hiding herself from view even though her position already meant she was well concealed. She kept wondering if Yugo really held his traditions so close to his heart he couldn’t see the benefits of taking his hat off.

Right as her mind began to trail down that particular train of thought, the doll caught herself and shook her head vehemently to rid herself of it. What was she thinking? Even if she didn’t share the Eliatropes’ beliefs or didn’t always understand them, she owed them that she at least respected them. After all, they had always been very understanding and accommodating of her Sadida nature, her room and garden alone were proof enough of that.

If Yugo said taking his hat off was a big deal, then it was a big deal.

Now that she thought about it, Yugo didn’t outright deny nor confirm whether his people actually looked indiscernible from Twelvian non-believers. Maybe there was a reason why they didn’t take their hats and hoods off, after all…

“We’re almost here, Amalia.” Yugo’s whisper broke her out of her stupor, making her shake her head to regain her focus.

Just as Yugo subtly opened his cloak just enough to allow her to get a better view of their destination, the Divine Doll whirled around in his pocket to discreetly glance over at the place he had been so intent on taking her to. Her eyes widening at the sight.

They were headed straight towards a particularly large white-stone building, with sturdy wooden brackets supporting the blue-tiled roof. It had nothing on the Eliatrope palace or even Sadida’s hut back in his dimension, but it was definitely bigger than most other houses in Emelka. While it was two-stories high as well, this particular building stood out in many other ways. For example, rather than follow the standard design that seemed prevalent in the area, it had several smaller warehouses attached to the main building, though what really caught her eye was the three-story tower on the far right side of it. Even more bewildering was the large bamboo milk jar affixed to the tower; which was just as well, the doll supposed—at least, now she knew they were headed to an eatery of some kind. Right beside the entrance were some stairs leading to what she could only assume was some kind of balcony, although judging by the lack of customers there, she had the feeling that it was a space reserved for the owner and their family. A suspicion that was only strengthened by the presence of a bent tree on the left from where the laundry was hung, swaying in the breeze.

“So this is where you wanted to take me?” Amalia whispered back at Yugo, failing to see what could be so special about this place.

“That’s right. Welcome to the Crispy Gobball Inn, Amalia. Where they serve the best Gobball stew in all of Emelka.”

“But why did you want to bring me here? Just to eat?”

Yugo chuckled, amused. “You’ll see.”

Before the doll could question him further, the Eliatrope had made it to the door. He reached out for the handle and let themselves in. Yugo had hidden Amalia from view once more, so she couldn’t really make out how the place looked on the inside, but she could still hear everything going on around her even through the thick fabric. From the sound of things, the inn’s patrons were a rowdy bunch. Animated conversations, loud cackles, and the clinking of utensils as they moved around their plates filled the room.

And then, something strange happened.

Amalia couldn’t see and, therefore, didn’t understand what was going on, but little by little, everyone quieted down, and the absence of the sound of metal against china indicated they had stopped eating, too. If she were being honest with herself, it was a little unnerving. And even that was nothing compared to the worry she felt when she sensed Yugo tensing up next to her, his muscles clenching in discomfort, even though she had a feeling he was doing his best to maintain an unaffected expression.

And then it dawned on her.

The atmosphere had changed because of him. Regardless of what Yugo said, the people in Emelka were just as wary of the Eliatropes as the rest of the Twelvians. Then, why did he insist they’d be much safer here?

The Divine Doll was broken out of her reverie by the feeling of Yugo relaxing, his chest going up and down in clear relief as the breath he had been holding brushed past his lips. She furrowed her brow, wondering just what in the World of Twelve could have provoked such a drastic change in him, when she perked up at the sound of a deep, caring voice resonating around the room:

“By Enutrof! What’s got y’all so quiet all of a sudden? Just a moment ago, I couldn’t even hear myself think!”

Then, the Enutrof man—because that voice definitely belonged to a man and only an Enutrof would swear by the Flamboyant Golden Dragon’s name—, grew silent as well. Amalia still couldn't see what was happening, but it didn’t take her long to realise he must have definitely noticed Yugo because the Eliatrope warmly greeted him, “Hello, Alibert. Is it a bad time?”

Amalia didn’t have time to register what was happening or even question it, for she suddenly found herself squeezed against Yugo’s chest, flush against his form. And though she certainly wouldn’t mind under different circumstances, she had to admit with a blush, she found it was hard to enjoy the closeness when she was being crushed to death, unable to breathe properly. She pawed desperately at the king’s pectorals, begging him to do something.

“‘Is it a bad time’, you say.” Alibert repeated rhetorically, engulfing Yugo into a tight embrace, blissfully unaware of the pain he was unwittingly inflicting upon the rag doll in his pocket. “You know it’s never a bad time for one of your visits, my boy! If anything, I’d say it’s been too long since you last showed your face around here!”

“Sorry… about that. I’ve been… kinda busy…lately.” Yugo wheezed out, his voice strained. It still amazed him just how strong old Alibert could be, especially considering that, by his own admission, he wasn’t the most devout Enutrof around, so his magic wasn’t as powerful. Seriously, Yugo was quite the seasoned warrior and yet his spine didn’t just threaten to snap in half under the pressure inflicted by the kindly chef’s arms, but his feet weren’t even touching the floor!

Just then, he felt the rustling of rough fabric against his shirt and a small jolt coursed through his body.

Amalia.

Not without some effort, the Eliatrope released one of his arms from Alibert’s hold and, always careful not to reveal the doll’s location within his poncho, lightly tapped the man on the shoulder to get his attention. Once his eyes were on him, he said:

“Alibert… Please…” He managed with some difficulty. “Put me… down. I’m carrying… some precious cargo… with me… today.”

Despite the confused, bushy eyebrow he raised the boy’s way at his words, Alibert obliged him. Loosening his hold on Yugo, he set him firmly on the floor and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Sorry about that, my boy. I got carried away in my excitement, that’s all.” Sending a sideways glance towards the other Enutrof sitting at the bar and pointedly pretending he hadn't just been eavesdropping on their conversation, he lowered his voice and leaned in closer. “So, what’s this ‘precious cargo’ you were talking about?”

Yugo just shook his head, mouthing a silent ‘Let’s talk in private’ at him.

Eyes lighting up in understanding, Alibert nodded and silently gestured for him to follow him. But not before addressing the rest of his customers, all of them watching the reunion unfold right in front of them. “Well, what are y’all waiting for, an invitation? Go on, eat! I worked too hard on that for you to just let it go cold!”

Immediately after he said that, it was as if nothing at all had happened. Everyone gathered turned back to their own lunch and conversations, and soon, the hustle and bustle so typical of restaurants began to fill up the room once more.

His hands on his hips, Alibert rolled his eyes good-naturedly at the scene. “Seriously. Sometimes it feels like no one respects good food anymore…” Then he locked eyes with Yugo and gestured with his head towards a room a little further down the hall, past the kitchen. Right as they walked past the kitchen door, he called out, “Toto, Matou, Tomato! You’re in charge of waiting tables and manning the stove while I’m gone! Remember there’s a pot of stew on the stove, it should be done in about five minutes!”

Alibert and Yugo didn’t stop their march even as three voices echoed after their boss, “On it, chef!”

As soon as they made it to the door, Alibert opened it for the Eliatrope and gestured for him to get inside, following close after him and closing the door behind him. “Sorry it’s probably not as fancy as your own office in your palace, but when one is a humble innkeeper, you gotta make do with what you have.” He said jokingly, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Yugo peruse the room.

“Trust me, Alibert. Now matter how beautifully furnished my office might be, it’s still the last place I want to be at the end of the day.” Although it was true he actually did most of his paperwork in his room, not to mention the throne and Council rooms.

Indeed, despite its lack of splendour, the Eliatrope King found himself smiling at the simple yet welcoming atmosphere of Alibert’s office. It really wasn’t much, just a middle-sized closet refurbished into a pantry, with the different ingredients the chef used in his dishes overflowing the shelves lining the walls and a simple desk loitered by a stack of papers and similar materials and a chair tucked against the far end of the room.

Still, the sight brought a smile to his lips. It fitted Alibert so well.

“Well, boy, what is it?” Alibert urged him gently, though a hint of impatience belied his genuine curiosity. “What’s got you all so secretive and tightlipped?”

The innkeeper raised an eyebrow, confused, when, without so much as turning to face him, Yugo seemingly opened his poncho to talk to the collar of his shirt in hushed tones. Even though he knew better than to voice his thoughts, Alibert was beginning to seriously consider whether the stress from his royal duties wasn’t messing with his mind and he came all the way to Emelka just to unwind.

It honestly wouldn’t be the first time.

Just then, the Eliatrope seemed to have reached an understanding with his garments, for he turned back around and rummaged inside his clothes as he answered the Enutrof’s previous question, right as he presented him with the most befuddling sight Alibert had ever seen in his life.

“This.” He said, gesturing between the innkeeper and what he held in his hand, which he brought closer to the Enutrof to inspect. “Alibert, this is Amalia. Amalia, this is Alibert.”

Good old Alibert truly had no idea what he was supposed to be looking at, and he had a very good feeling that his astonishment was reflected on his face, given the way he was gaping like a fish. ‘Amalia’, as Yugo called…her, he supposed, was nothing but a rag doll made out of dark brown fabric, with objectively simplistic features—just a sewn mouth, a pair of brown eyes, and a dishevelled tuft of green hair on top of her head. If he were being honest with himself, it was the kind of thing he would expect from a Sadida, and he couldn’t help but think it didn’t belong with someone like the Eliatrope King at all—.

Alibert’s train of thought was abruptly halted when Amalia blinked at him, tilting her head in curiosity, and smiled. Okay, so she was pretty cute. And that in itself wasn’t all that strange, as Sadida dolls, while not alive, were animated by nature. Still, it didn’t explain what Yugo was doing, carrying her around. He seemed to remember hearing some passing Bontarians gossiping about how the Eliatrope King had been blessed by the gods themselves with a Sadida Doll, but if this was what they were talking about, the source of all that commotion preceding that banquet at Bonta he had heard so much about, he had to admit it was a little underwhelming.

Just when he was mulling over how to mask his disappointment without coming off as too obvious or, Enutrof forgive, rude, his thoughts were interrupted by a gust of wind picking up in his office, causing his hat, moustache, and clothes to flutter in the breeze. How was that possible? His office only had one small, round window and he left it closed right before he started preparing his first batch of food for the day! If that wasn’t strange enough, completely out of nowhere, a torrent of pink flower petals began to swirl around the room, the veritable whirlwind of blossoms seemingly concentrating around the doll’s small form.

He chanced a glance the Eliatrope’s way, silently asking if this was all his doing, only for his eyes to widen in shock. Somehow, despite the sheer insanity going on around them, the craziest thing by far had to be how calm and relaxed Yugo seemed over the whole thing, almost as if he had seen it countless times before.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity but couldn’t have been more than a minute or two, the wind finally died down, the swirling petals slowly falling down the floor. As he followed the king’s gaze towards Amalia, a part of Alibert understood the Eliatrope’s serenity was most likely a result of having dealt with it before.

The other part of Alibert was too busy gawking at what had just happened.

There, standing in the middle of the room at probably a good head taller than he was, her posture perfectly straight while she held her hands in front of her—her fidgety fingers betraying her nervousness—, was a lovely Sadida young lady. Clad in a simple yet elegant beige pants and white, sleeveless top ensemble, with white wristbands and orange, leafy anklets that matched the large leaf sewn into her midsection. Her silky emerald hair, tied up in a high ponytail, perfectly framed her delicate face, making the small smile on her lips all the sweeter.

However, Alibert wasn’t the only one intently staring at the person in front of him. For her part, Amalia’s scrutiny was just as intense, if slightly subtler by virtue of her not gaping at the chef as openly as he was her.

The first thing that came to mind when the doll finally laid eyes on the man was that she could hardly believe he was supposed to be an Enutrof. Seriously, if it weren’t because she distinctly heard him swear by The Miser’s name, she would have assumed he was an Eliatrope who had somehow managed to make a living way outside of Oma’s confines. Either that, or he was just a non-believer which, frankly, was far more likely.

While she had to admit her experience with Enutrof’s followers was limited to the Lord of the Spoils himself and the Enutrof King and his entourage, Alibert looked nothing like them. Which was a feat in itself, since Enutrof looked like a dragon made out of treasure chests and his worshippers were shovel-carrying old people. But there was absolutely nothing about Alibert that brought an Enutrof to mind. Rather than looking like a withered and wrinkled old man, Alibert could easily pass off as someone in his forties, early fifties at most. From his strong build, top-heavy posture that remained perfectly straight rather than hunched over, his blemish-free skin, and the bushy, brunette moustache framing his upper lip—the latter being a stark contrast to the shock white hair all Enutrofs sported—there was simply nothing that resembled Enutrofs as she knew them in the man in front of her.

While his general physique was misleading enough, it wasn’t the only reason why Amalia had a hard time believing he wasn’t actually an Eliatrope. Besides the brunette mane that was so prevalent amongst Yugo’s people, what really caught the doll’s eye was the giant chef hat on his head, which didn’t really look all that different from your regular Eliatrope hat. As its endtail reached down his back, it matched Yugo’s almost perfectly! All it was missing were a pair of ears.

Still, she chose to keep her thoughts to herself for the time being. There’d be plenty of chances to ask about his peculiar appearance once they’d moved past the formalities. And so, her mind made up and her polite grin widening just a little, Amalia spoke, her voice clear like a stream in spring. “Good morning, Mister Alibert.” Much like she had done when she had first met Yugo and Master Joris, she leaned her body forward 90º as a sign of respect. “As Yugo said, my name is Amalia. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

As Yugo watched the exchange with a fond smile, silently begging Alibert to forgive him for not warning him of his intentions sooner and for the near heart attack he must have surely inflicted upon him, he couldn’t help the pleased tingle that ran down his body as he finally got to introduce the two Twelvians he cared most for. He had no doubt that once his initial surprise had worn off, Alibert would welcome Amalia with open arms and treat her with the same amount of fatherly affection and kindness as if she was his own daughter.

He had once bestowed the same treatment on him, regardless of his otherworldly origins, after all.

So imagine his surprise when, instead, good, old Alibert—always so jovial, so level-headed, so composed—, just jerked back in utter astonishment and pointed a trembling finger towards Amalia as he blurted out, “You’re a Divine Doll!”

…on second thought, maybe he should have warned Alibert of his intentions in advance. Yugo knew, probably better than anyone, that meeting a Divine Doll for the first time wasn’t quite the same as bringing a Wow Bow puppy home. He was also starting to wonder if perhaps Amalia wasn’t on to something when she said she could always just pretend to be a regular Sadida. Even if he didn’t doubt his accompanying her would have blown her cover, at least they would have saved poor Alibert the shock of a lifetime.

Honestly, between Yugo’s first introducing himself to the man and now this, he was beginning to seriously consider paying for the poor man’s medical bill. As soon as his people got a hang on their currency, of course. He was at least responsible for his blood pressure rising for sure.

And now Amalia was looking back at him, concern evident in her brown eyes even as she tried to keep a polite smile on her face, clearly as perplexed by the Enutrof’s reaction as the latter was by her presence.

It was at that moment that the king chose to intervene. Clearing his throat, he stepped forward and between Alibert and Amalia. “That’s right, Alibert.” He told the innkeeper gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. Then, much like when Amalia was still in her doll form, he gestured to her. “Amalia here is Sadida’s eleventh Divine Doll. She’s been living with us for a while, and I figured it was about time I took her out for lunch to my favourite place in the entirety of the World of Twelve.”

The green-haired beauty, ever polite, extended her hand towards Alibert, her smile intact. “Pleasure to meet you, Alibert.”

“The pleasure is all mine, my Lady…” Alibert managed to mutter, practically on autopilot. His eyes scanning all over the Sadida demigoddess, his voice still conveyed an unmistakable sense of awe in spite of his low tone as he breathed out, “So the rumours are true, my boy. The gods did indeed entrust you with a Sadida Doll. Even after…” He trailed off, the meaning behind his unfinished words causing Yugo to furrow his brow as the ears on his hat flattened against his head. Then, he chuckled, slowly going back to his old self. “Somehow, this makes much more sense than them just gifting you a regular doll!”

Yugo snorted, his thoughts temporarily diverted from Alibert’s enigmatic words, imagining himself walking around with a doll on his shoulder. Although, looking back, it wasn’t that much different than what he had asked of Amalia earlier. As her giggles reached his ears and his gaze settled on her, the king’s eyes softened, an affectionate grin tugging at his lips.

“Yeah, the gods sent her to us as a sign of goodwill.” He started, the sound of his voice drawing the doll’s attention back at him. She glanced up at him as if taken hostage by the sound of his voice. A shiver ran down his spine under the intensity of her gaze. “I can’t even begin to tell you just how much Amalia has been helping us since she arrived. She truly is a blessing.”

Yugo watched in satisfaction as a lovely blush spread all over her cheeks, the blood underneath highlighting her mahogany skin with their apple-like colour. For a moment, for just a moment, when the magnetic pull between them was at its strongest, his gaze flitted down to her parted lips, so inviting, so tempting, so close…

And then they broke away, fast as lightning, and his own face burned with the intensity of a thousand suns when Alibert spoke up, “Well, if that’s the case, then I sincerely thank you for coming to visit my humble abode, my Lady. Hopefully, this old chef’s dishes won’t be too disappointing compared to the high cuisine you must have enjoyed at the palace!”

Amalia, who had been too preoccupied looking everywhere but at Yugo and shyly tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, perked up when she realised Alibert was talking to her. Regaining her composure, if only a little, she hummed in affirmation. “Oh, yes. I’m sure it will be delightful, Alibert. After all, there has got to be a reason why Yugo likes this place so much, right?”

“A part of me is beginning to suspect he just likes to get out of the palace every once in a while…” chuckled Alibert, his arms crossed over his chest as he flashed the Eliatrope King a coy smirk. His smile widened when, from the corner of his eyes, he noticed Amalia sending Yugo a knowing look of her own.

The ears of his hat lowering in ill-concealed embarrassment, there was nothing Yugo could do but shrink under their gazes. Although he would never admit it, he knew he was busted.

Luckily for him, the Enutrof was gracious enough to put an early end to his suffering, for he let out a boisterous laugh before patting him energetically on the back, the action almost sending him tumbling forwards.

“Alright, alright. Enough with the chit-chat. There’ll be plenty of that once I’ve served a plate of food right in front of you two.” Alibert said, beckoning the two of them to follow him out of the pantry-remodelled-office and towards the main dining room.

Now that Amalia was out of Yugo’s pocket, she was free to scan every nook and cranny of the restaurant. She couldn’t help the warm grin that formed on her lips when she realised the Crispy Gobball Inn (as Yugo had called it before) was a lot more welcoming than the name suggested. Judging from the high, wooden ceilings, the simple decor adorning the walls, and the conversing patrons, the restaurant was indeed a simple eatery where people could leave their worries behind and enjoy some comforting, freshly-cooked lunch. The myriad of aromas invading her senses was enough to make Amalia’s mouth water. She had to embarrassedly place a hand against her belly and sheepishly laugh behind her palm when her stomach let out a loud growl, pointedly reminding her that she had yet to eat.

Her cheeks coloured again for a very different reason when Yugo leaned in closer to her to whisper, “You’ll just love Alibert’s cooking. Definitely some of the best I’ve ever had, I promise.”

Not trusting her voice to speak, the doll simply let him know she had heard him with a meek nod.

Finally, Alibert offered them to sit down on two stools placed right in front of the counter, which at the same time had first row seats to the kitchen and all the activity going on in it. Amalia watched with curious eyes as three young men were running themselves ragged as they juggled chopping and slicing different ingredients and dumping them into pans, manning the stove, and carrying the finalised dishes and drinks to their respective customers. She didn’t have much time to dwell on it, nor on the fact that Yugo had brought her closer to himself when one of the boys—the one acting as waiter—took a good look at her and let out a loud Boowolf whistle. Instead, her attention was immediately drawn to Alibert unceremoniously shoving one of his clients off his chair and directly onto the floor.

She had to do a double take when she turned to Yugo for an explanation and he remained perfectly unaffected by the whole thing. Moreover, while his lips were curled upwards in amusement, his eyes reflected a certain sense of boredom, as if Alibert shoving old people off their chairs was just another Tuesday for him. What the actual—?

Her head snapped back around and her eyes widened further in shock when the man, despite his old and fragile appearance, sprung back up with the agility of a Rogue on the run, and shook his fist angrily in the air, “Sweet Miser above, Alibert! Is that how you treat your customers?!”

Alibert just blinked, unimpressed. “Goodness, no. You know I’d never dream of treating my customers like that, Ruel.”

“Oh, so I suppose I’m the exception just because we happen to be old friends, huh?!” The man, Ruel, demanded to know.

The only change in the chef’s expression was the arching of a bored eyebrow. “Nope.” He said, popping the ‘p’. Suddenly, his features sharpened into a scowl, and Ruel audibly gulped. “I get to treat you like that because, as far as I’m concerned, you’re no customer of mine.”

Letting out a scandalised gasp, Ruel brought a hand to his chest. “How could you?! After all we’ve been through, you dare say I’m not one of your customers even though I have faithfully come here at least once a week ever since you opened the restaurant more than twenty years ago?”

“And you have yet to pay for a single meal!” Alibert exclaimed, throwing his arms out in exasperation at his old friend’s antics. “By this point your tab must be bigger than the rivalry between Bonta and Brakmar!”

In response, all the old man did was hold his head high with a sniff as he crossed his arms. “Just so you know, it’s very impolite to ask your friends for money. I expected more from you, Alibert.”

“It’s even more impolite to never give it back!”

And that was all Amalia needed to know this Ruel fellow was an Enutrof, and one that ticked all the boxes, for that matter. Between his scrawny figure; hairless head except for a small ponytail that contrasted greatly with his bushy, silver beard; his worn-out clothes that had definitely seen better days; and, last but not least, his stinginess, for all she knew he could very well be Enutrof’s son himself.

As the two men bickered back and forth like an old married couple—with Alibert taking on the role of the long-suffering wife—, Amalia turned back to gaze up at Yugo, befuddled by his nonchalance.

Yugo managed to stifle his snort with varied degrees of success when he noticed the absolutely flabbergasted expression on Amalia’s face. Somehow her jaw only dropped further down when all he could offer in response was a helpless shrug and a brief explanation, “This happens all the time, don’t worry. I’m starting to believe this is how they bond.”

Blinking rapidly at his answer, her mind still struggling to catch up with the insanity that was her reality in that very moment, she focused back on the conversation between the two very differently-looking Enutrofs.

“Quit your yapping, Ruel. You were about done, anyway.” Alibert said as he wiped the counter with a wet rag. Immediately after, he dried it off with another, dry rag, and capped it all off by masterfully placing two goblets on top of the counter and pouring some water into them. “Besides, we got company.”

Ruel raised an eyebrow when his old friend gestured to the side with his head, only for his eyes to widen at the sight of that Yugo lad cheerfully waving at him, while the loveliest Sadida he had ever seen in all his years timidly mimicked the action by his side.

“Hey, Alibert. It’s been a while.” The Eliatrope greeted him warmly. He gestured at the green-haired beauty next to him. “I’d like you to meet Amalia. She’s a very special friend of mine.”

The girl, Amalia, greeted him with a polite nod, tentatively extending the hand that wasn’t currently clenched before her chest towards him. “Um, pleasure to meet you.”

Putting on his most charming act, he took Amalia’s hands in his and offered her a golden-toothed smirk. “The pleasure is all mine, my dear.” He turned to address Yugo. “Atta boy! Not only did you finally find yourself a girlfriend, but she’s a real beauty too!”

No sooner had the light-hearted joke left his mouth did the two of them turn bright red. They made sure to keep a respectable distance between each other as they stammered their way out of explaining to Ruel there was absolutely nothing going on between them.

After a few minutes of that, Alibert took pity on them and, with a good-natured sigh, set out to give them an out. “Amalia, don’t humour him. Trust me, you’ll end up regretting it. I humoured him once, years ago, and I haven’t been able to get rid of him since!”

“Why, you ungrateful old gargoyle, you…!”

“Look who’s talking.” The chef flashed his old friend a wry smile.

Had he noticed the charged atmosphere between those two lovebirds back in his office, when they stared deep into each other’s eyes, seemingly aiming for a kiss, and time seemed to still? But, of course! He was gaining in years, but he still had a long way to go before he lost his eyesight completely. Was he going to say anything about it and poke fun at them when it was a topic they clearly weren’t ready for yet?

…okay, maybe a little. But unlike Ruel, he at least knew when to stop! Seriously, he was doing them a favour. True to his nature, when the old miser found something juicy, like an Enutrof with a shiny kama, he didn’t let the matter go easily. He would have heckled them about it until Yugo swore off ever stepping foot in his inn ever again.

And he couldn’t have that, now could he? Not only because the boy was the leader of the otherworldly and very powerful species that seemed to have everyone on edge, but also because he had grown quite fond of him and he would miss his visits. Especially now that he’d introduced him to his little girlfriend.

What? He just couldn’t resist, so sue him.

The kindly innkeeper was broken out of his reverie by Yugo and Amalia taking their respective seats in front of the counter and right in front of him. He smiled at them. “What can I get you, guys?”

Yugo’s answer was swift. “Same as always, Alibert. Thank you.”

“Even your drink? Wouldn’t you like some bamboo milk instead of your usual water?” Alibert suggested, as it was in his innkeeper nature, but the king just shook his head politely.

“Just water is fine, thanks. I still have to get us back home and, trust me, drunkenness and portals don’t mix.”

Yugo laughed lightly at that, clearly thinking back to some occasion where alcohol had done a number to him and/or his people. But since neither Alibert nor Ruel had ever seen a tipsy Eliatrope, they only chuckled a little out of politeness. The chef then redirected his attention to the Divine Doll.

“What will it be, my Lady?”

Amalia startled a little, and felt silly about it immediately afterwards. They were in a restaurant, so it was only natural that Alibert would ask her what she’d like to eat. Problem was, she had no idea.

Back at the palace, she mostly just ate whatever the chef and kitchen staff had cooked that day, so outside of saying she preferred some fruit over more elaborate desserts or if she would like some bread with her food, she had never really had much of a choice. And on top of that, there was also the fact that she simply didn’t know what Alibert served in his restaurant.

As she wracked her mind trying to come up with an answer to the surprisingly impossible task, her finger tapping her chin pensively, Yugo placing a hand on her shoulder as he leaned closer to her got her to perk up in his direction.

“I can’t recommend Alibert’s Gobball Stew enough.” He told her, giving her a toothy grin. “It’s the best thing on the menu by far, and that’s saying something!”

“Thank you, my boy. Can’t deny it feels good to have your cooking recognised.” The Enutrof said, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment at the compliment. Then, his expression soured as he shot a glare in Ruel’s direction. “Not everyone is as appreciative of my food as you are. Even though it’s clearly good enough to keep them coming for twenty years.”

“Typical. You have no trouble forgiving an apple thief, but when it comes to me, you sure know how to hold a grudge…” Ruel grumbled quietly to himself, rolling his eyes and making a physical effort to avoid making eye contact with his best friend.

Fearing another round of bickering was about to start lest she did something, Amalia stammered out her answer, “I-I…um! The…the Gobball Stew sounds fine. I’d like to try it, too.”

Alibert’s scowl immediately softened at the doll’s request. “Of course, my Lady. It’ll be an honour. Do you want anything to drink?”

She shook her head. “No, thank you. Water is fine.”

“Suit yourselves.” The chef shrugged. He left a jar full of water near their untouched goblets, silently telling them they were free to get as many refills as they wanted. He turned back around and wandered deeper into the kitchen, calling out to them over his shoulder, “I’ll start with your stews right away. In the meantime, how ‘bout you tell me how Adamaï’s doing, huh, Yugo? And don’t worry about distracting me; I might not be so young anymore, but I can still multitask just fine.”

That got Amalia’s attention. “You’ve met Adamaï before?”

“But of course! I met the two of them at the same time, as a matter of fact.” Alibert answered, his back still turned to her as he rummaged through the crates where he kept all the ingredients. He picked up some onions, a few peppers, and several mushrooms; placed them on a cutting board and, with an expert hand, began to slice them with a kitchen knife. “Speaking of the Shushu, is there a reason why he didn’t come today with you two? Is he very busy?”

“Adamaï is doing just fine, Alibert. Thanks for asking.” Yugo replied, his head resting on his hand as he waited for his meal. “There were just some things that needed to be taken care of at the palace, so he chose to sit this one out. Just this once.” He winked at the Enutrof, hoping he wouldn’t take his twin’s absence the wrong way.

He had nothing to worry about, for the chef just looked up from his task and sent him a knowing smile, an eyebrow arched. “Letting your brother do all the work while you’re out and about, having fun? My, that’s not very kingly of you, Your Majesty.”

The Eliatrope had the decency to blush. Truth be told, the real reason why Adamaï chose not to accompany them to Emelka was because this was all supposed to help Amalia out and make her feel better over whatever it was that had been troubling her lately. And Ad was very adamant on not getting in the way. As much as Yugo tried to argue that that was just ridiculous since they were all friends, his brother shut him up with a look.

A look that clearly said that Amalia needed him at the moment, so the dragon would most likely just spend the day acting like a third wheel.

Another look from his twin prevented Yugo from protesting about that.

Just as he was about to give some flimsy excuse or use his usual laid-back persona to get Alibert off his back, Amalia beat him to the punch. Yugo could only stare at her as she stood up for him.

“Oh, but that’s not true at all!” She said, her voice, though still soft and sweet, was filled with unwavering conviction. “Yugo’s always doing his very best to be of service to his people. Every single day, his schedule is simply packed with the daily responsibilities he has to tend to.”

She began listing things off with her fingers. “Every day, he trains, and meets up with his siblings individually to check up on their progress on their respective fields and chores. And he personally talks to the members of their staff and guards to see if there’s anything to report. And at least once a week he listens to his subjects’ grievances, fully intending to solve them as quickly as possible even if it means he must pull an all-nighter. Not to mention, he also must hold a meeting with the Council of Six to discuss important matters and update each other on their progress.

“And yet,” She turned to look at him with such sweetness in her eyes, Yugo could practically taste the sugar on his lips. If only he could taste it on hers… “Amidst all that, despite how time-consuming it surely is, Yugo always takes some time out of his busy schedule to spend it with me.” She looked at Alibert straight in the eye, her gaze piercing yet not unkind. “I assure you, Alibert, nobody takes his responsibilities as seriously as Yugo.”

A pregnant silence fell over them after Amalia’s impassioned speech. While a small blush betrayed her own vulnerability, the doll didn’t back down, hers a face of determination. The Eliatrope wished he could follow her example, however, he found himself too overwhelmed to move his hand away from his burning cheeks, let alone look the girl (or the Enutrofs, for that matter) in the eye. His heart thudded violently against his ribcage. Meanwhile, the pair of old friends could only stare wide-eyed at Amalia, before exchanging meaningful glances with each other, years of friendship allowing them to hold a full conversation without words.

Finally, the chef’s shock melted into a smile. “Of course, my Lady. I didn’t mean to imply Yugo doesn’t work hard to be a good king, I know for a fact that nothing could be further from the truth.”

“So…?” She trailed off, tilting her head to the side.

“It was just some harmless teasing between friends. All in good fun.” He promised, before pointing a finger in the Eliatrope’s direction. “But I’m serious! Tell your brother to stop by soon. You know I enjoy your visits.”

“Of course, Alibert. I’ll let him know.” Then, his face broke into a downright devilish smirk as he seemed to remember something. “Just make sure to keep any Kralamoure out of sight.”

The chef actually cracked up at that, much to the doll’s bewilderment. After a little while, he quieted down, wiping a tear off his face. “Oh, your brother’s never gonna live that down, is he?”

“Nope.” Said Yugo with a wolfish grin, popping the ‘p’.

“He’s never gonna live what down?” Amalia asked, her face scrunched up in confusion as she stared back and forth between the two of them. “Did something happen with a Kralamoure?”

Now that she thought about it, she remembered how Adamaï hadn't looked all that enthused when she discovered the creature for the first time back when the three of them went to Oma’s beach. Maybe it was related?

“You could say that…” Alibert chuckled. Amalia was about to insist some more when Yugo took pity on her and began retelling the story himself.

“As you can imagine, the only thing more eye-catching than an Eliatrope is an Eliatrope Dragon, so the first few times Ad and I went exploring on our own, he had to take on a less conspicuous form. Usually, he goes with the local wildlife. And on this particular day, Ad chose to be a Kralamoure. Now, what does a Kralamoure have to do with Emelka’s wildlife, I don’t know, but when dragons get an idea, it’s impossible to change their minds. So I let him be.”

“But I thought dragons were capable of taking on more humanoid appearances.” Shinonomé, Grougaloragran, and Phaeris were proof enough of that. “I get Adamaï can be stubborn, but why would he choose to be a Kralamoure, of all things?”

Yugo winced and tilted his head every which way. “They are, they definitely are. It’s just that full-on humanoid forms have never really been Ad’s forte. Random creatures like tofus or even golems? No problem. But the most human he can look is his usual appearance.”

“Huh.” Was all the doll could say in response to that.

“Anyway,” Yugo continued. “For some reason, Ad turned into a Kralamoure, but because of a series of events that aren’t all that relevant right now, he ended up with the other Kralamoures Alibert had taken out.”

Amalia gasped. She already had a pretty good inkling on what happened next and couldn’t help but feel waves of sympathy for the dragon.

“Hadn’t Yugo stopped me and Adamaï shapeshifted back into his usual self on time, he would have ended up as that day’s special.” Alibert finished grimly, confirming her thoughts. Then, he added, almost like an afterthought. “Not gonna lie, I don’t think I’d be able to bring myself to cook Kralamoure ever again after that…”

They all nodded in agreement. The Divine Doll, in particular, had never eaten Kralamoure before, but seeing what almost happened to her friend, she figured it was better if it remained that way and she swore it off altogether.

As he tossed the rice he’d need for the stew into the boiling water, Alibert tried to change the subject to lighter topics. As much as he and Yugo liked to tease Adamaï about it, there was no doubt that almost being cooked alive was a really macabre topic. It was really bringing the mood down.

“So, what can you tell us about Inglorium, my Lady?” Alibert asked casually, sending Amalia a calculated side-glance meant to downplay his question. As the doll perked up, he kept his focus on stirring the pot. “Forgive me, I’m sure you must have been asked the same thing countless times already, but you’ll have to understand, us mortals tend to get curious over the realm of the gods.”

“Speak for yourself.” Ruel scoffed dismissively. In the blink of an eye, however, his disinterested expression lit up in excitement and he leaned in closer to Amalia, grasping her hands in his. She had to suppress the urge to flinch at his eager eyes and far-too-wide smile. “Having said that, is it true what they say about Enutrof’s realm? Is there treasure as far as the eye can see?”

Amalia’s face fell, unimpressed. Figures that would be the only thing Ruel would be interested in. Coincidentally, that was all the Enutrof King wanted to know as well when they met back at Bonta.

“I’m Sadida’s Doll, Ruel.” She began, her voice slow and clear as she tried to get her point across. “While I have met the other gods, I only have access to the… um… common areas and my father’s own dimension. I have no idea what Enutrof’s realm looks like.”

Ruel’s face fell at her explanation and he unceremoniously let go of her hands. He looked like he was about to cry.

Thankfully for all parties involved, Alibert intervened, swatting his old friend away. “In that case, how are the gods, Lady Amalia? I’m sure you must have a lot of interesting anecdotes from your time with them.” His brow furrowed in confusion when all she did was pull a face and do a so-so motion with her hand.

“Not really, I’m afraid.” She admitted. Yugo, who had been watching her intently since the conversation began, didn’t miss the way she fiddled with her wristband. “Naturally, I spent more time with my father and sisters as they all explained what I would need to know. But aside from Cra, who would drop by now and then to visit, I wasn’t really introduced to the other gods until it was practically time to come to the mortal realm.

“Although I must admit during that time, limited as it may have been, I got to appreciate certain characteristics and quirks that I have seen duplicated in their respective followers.”

“You mean things like how Ecaflip is always itching to gamble, a trait that he clearly passed down to his worshippers, right?” The Eliatrope king offered, remembering when she explained the same thing to the Twelvian rulers or she shared her tales about Inglorium with him.

She nodded, a small smile on her face. “That’s right. I also remember taking notice of the fact that the Cra Matriarch and her entourage were as calm and collected as their goddess. Or the Sram’s apparently shared stoicism. And the Eniripsa Queen was just as bubbly and curious as Eniripsa herself!”

She also remembered being taken aback by the Iops’ battle-ready and impulsive nature. Maybe they weren’t the best conversationalists around, but they were at least entertaining. Though she could only wonder if they had that in common with their patron god or not—for some reason, she never got to meet Iop. Whatever the case, though, she had to admit their hair was to die for.

Her smile widened ever so slightly when she remembered the short moments she shared with the Sheran Sharms. While Prince Armand seemed to be more high-strung, and maybe even a little abrasive, she couldn’t help but be reminded of her father when in the presence of King Oakheart. He was a good man, she could feel it.

“And what about The Miser himself?” Alibert urged her gently, unknowingly breaking her out of her stupor. The steak he placed into the pan sizzled upon touching its hot surface. “What can you tell us about him?”

Yugo had to bite back a laugh, his mind going back to their first encounter with the Enutrof King. He didn’t forget how the diminutive man cut straight to the chase and inquired about the size of his god’s treasure, much like Ruel had done moments before. If the deity himself was as money-hungry as his followers, then he feared the kind of offerings he demanded from them.

“He’s stingy.”

The words were out of Amalia’s mouth before she even had the time to think them over. Her eyes widened in shock when her brain finally caught up to her mouth, no doubt helped by the gaping looks both Enutrofs were flashing her with. By her side, she heard Yugo poorly trying to hide his snorts and wheezes, and, her lips pursed in irritation, she elbowed him to cut it out.

Praying Sadida would put her out of her misery, she scrambled to add, “Um, uh… B-but that’s not all…! I mean, Enutrof has a lot of good qualities, too! Let’s see, um… there’s his… uh…”

Just as she was about to faint from trying to stammer her way out of her faux pas, the doll’s worries were put at ease when Alibert and Ruel broke into loud cackles right in front of her. In fact, Amalia couldn't help but shrink on herself uncomfortably when the commotion caused by their uproarious laughter drew the attention of the other patrons to the counter and onto her.

As the two Enutrofs struggled to reel their amusement in, the doll scowled at Yugo. “You could’ve helped me, you know.”

She almost gasped when he still had the audacity to chuckle. “Sorry, I just figured you’d find out sooner or later.”

“A warning would’ve been nice!”

“And ruin the surprise?” He winked at her.

Amalia sputtered, her cheeks ablaze. “I stood up for you earlier!”

That shut him up, and the Sadida Doll allowed herself to smirk in satisfaction, counting that as a small victory. What she didn’t know, however, was that Yugo’s silence had less to do with having lost their mock argument and everything to do with the fact that he couldn’t get Amalia’s earnest defence of him out of his mind. The way she so readily jumped in to prove Alibert’s—well-meaning and harmless—jabs wrong. The fact that she knew him so well she could easily recite his daily and even weekly schedule from memory. And the racing of his heart when she showed her sincere and deep appreciation for the fact that he always took some time away to be with her, how much it all clearly meant to her…

It all affected him in ways Yugo wasn’t quite ready to confront yet.

So he welcomed the distraction when Ruel finally got his laughing fit under control to mutter, “No wonder you think the old dragon’s stingy, Amalia.” He wiped a tear off his face, before staring at his nails and scoffing with a roll of his eyes over a particular memory. “Last time I was in a pinch and asked him for help, he refused to do anything unless I paid him! Self-serving lizard…”

“Ruel, you never give him any offerings in the first place. He’s a god, he’s bound to know when you’re lying.” Alibert pointed out.

“Meh, same thing.” Ruel replied stubbornly, turning away with a huff. Indeed, the old man was the epitome of Enutrof stinginess. There was no doubt about that.

As the innkeeper and his friend started bickering yet again, Amalia’s eyes trailed over to Yugo, the topic that had sparked up this conversation fresh in her mind. Yugo and his people worshipped and supposedly took after the Great Goddess Eliatrope. Did that mean Yugo and his siblings owed their personality to their mother? The Council of Six were all very different from each other; if that was the case, she wondered which traits they had actually inherited from her.

Was she as scientifically-oriented as Chibi and Grougaloragran? Perhaps she was as level-headed and patient as Mina and Phaeris? Was she as enigmatic and all-knowing as Qilby and Shinonomé? Did Glip and Baltazar get their nurturing nature from her? Was she as impish as Nora or—Amalia shuddered at the thought—as prone to hold grudges as Efrim?

Would she be as selfless, and kind, and adventurous, and warm, and caring, and understanding, if a tad bit impulsive and emotion-driven, as Yugo?

…And Adamaï. She meant to say if she would be like Yugo and Adamaï in terms of personality.

(She chose to ignore how Adamaï was actually far more level-headed and logical than his twin).

Just then, Yugo noticed her staring and turned to face her, his own expression unreadable. Almost as if he, too, had his mind plagued with swirling thoughts he couldn’t quite make sense of. He raised an eyebrow, and that alone was enough to convey his silent question—’What’s up?’.

Amalia had her own question at the tip of her tongue, begging her to open her mouth so it could come tumbling out. Right before she got the chance, however, Alibert’s voice broke the spell they found themselves under, drawing their focus back to him.

“Anywho, don’t worry, my Lady. And thank you for answering our questions.” Unlike his previous instances of bickering and mild aggression, this time, the innkeeper put his arm around Ruel’s shoulders and pulled him towards him. “I don’t know about these old bones right here, but it’s been a while since I heard any interesting stories!”

“That’s because you hung up your shovel and replaced it with a spatula just as things were getting good.” Ruel ribbed him with a smug smirk.

“And I don’t regret it one bit.”

“Wait, what?” Amalia blinked, taken aback. “Alibert, is that true? You weren’t always a chef?”

“Believe it or not, this kindly innkeeper you see here used to be a bounty hunter alongside Ruel.” Yugo supplied helpfully, doing his very best to hold back the snort that threatened to escape him as Amalia’s jaw practically hit the floor, her eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. Instead, he leaned over the counter and clasped a hand on the chef’s shoulder, giving him a firm squeeze. “Isn’t that right, Alibert?”

Amalia whipped her head so fast in his direction, the only possible explanation as to how she hadn’t given herself whiplash had to be that Sadida himself had to have intervened.

“You used to be a bounty hunter?”

He scratched the side of his face, a little nervous under her scrutiny. “That’s right, my Lady. I was a bounty hunter for a while twenty years ago. Until I quit.”

“May I ask what made you quit?”

“Well, why not?” He shrugged. “You answered our questions, so it seems only fair that I answer yours. Now, let’s see…”

Amalia waited with bated breath for Alibert to begin with his tale. In the meantime, even as the chef organised his thoughts, his hands kept moving deftly around his station, adding the chopped vegetables and cooked rice into a bigger casserole and beginning to stir fry it all with a wooden spoon. Sizzling on the fire next to it, the steaks were almost done, too.

The aroma emanating from the kitchen was so mouth-watering, Yugo couldn’t help but sigh blissfully, his stomach growling as it impatiently waited for the meal. Even Amalia had trouble focusing as soon as the scent hit her nostrils.

Luckily for her, she didn’t get the chance to get too lost in her culinary daydreams, because as Alibert finally served their food to them—two plates filled with a generous serving of rice and stir-fried veggies with a crispy Gobball chop on top—, he spoke up:

“Well, I suppose I should start by saying that, just like Yugo told you, I used to be a bounty hunter. Ruel and I were partners and used to take on missions for money.”

“You mean you were my sidekick.” Ruel corrected with a smirk and a swig of his bamboo milk. “No offence, Al, but when you were still in diapers, I was already apprehending wanted criminals.”

Alibert ignored him. “Guess you could say it’s not all that surprising, coming from two Enutrofs. Being a bounty hunter is basically like getting paid for living adventures.”

“That sounds amazing…” The doll breathed, her eyes sparkling at the prospect of being able to make a living out of venturing into the world. Alibert had to suppress a chuckle at the panicked look plastered all over Yugo’s face at her reaction.

“Overprotective much?” He couldn’t help but think. Instead, he chose to help him out. “It definitely has its perks.” If Yugo kept staring at him with those disbelieving, manic eyes of his, his façade was sure to crack and he’d break into another laughing fit. “But it’s also incredibly dangerous, too. Keep in mind that a bounty hunter doesn’t get paid unless they apprehend a criminal and bring them to justice.

“And their crimes can go from something as harmless as stealing a few apples, to committing serious atrocities.” He said gravely, leaning closer to the girl over the counter. His eyes travelled over to Ruel when the old Enutrof let out a rather violent shudder.

“The Compulsive Chopper of Bonta…” He muttered, seemingly reliving old memories.

“Well, when you put it like that, I guess I can see why you wanted to quit…” Amalia admitted, before picking up her fork and finally bringing some of the stew into her mouth. Only for her eyes to snap open in shock as her taste buds were assaulted by a wave of rich, savoury flavours that almost knocked her out cold.

The men around her watched the doll curiously, caution in their eyes, as she swallowed that forkful slowly, very slowly, and remained immobile for a while. Her brown orbs, as big as the plates containing her meal, stared straight ahead, almost as if she’d seen a ghost. The Eliatrope and the two Enutrofs shared fearful glances, and Ruel motioned towards Amalia with his head to get Yugo to do something about her.

The king, who had his own spoonful suspended in mid-air at his friend’s strange behaviour, gently set his fork down. Sending a nod towards Ruel, he tentatively reached out to Amalia, but just as he was about to gently nudge her out of her stupor, the doll snapped out of her trance all by herself and proceeded to all but gorge the stew down under the astonished, and a little bit concerned, stares of the men around her.

For a little while, Amalia kept shoving spoonfuls of rice and vegetables into her mouth as she furiously tore into the steak with her knife and cut it up to likewise wolf it down. Then, she began to slowly regain her bearings as she finally seemed to remember she had company— company that was looking at her with slight terror in their eyes—, and her frantic, ravenous movements halted. With a sheepish, forced chuckle, she set her utensils down on the table and sat up straight once more, her cheeks red as apples.

The colour intensified when she took notice of the inn’s patrons staring at her like she had used her powers to grow an entire forest from scratch.

She awkwardly coughed into her hand. “Um… Yugo was right. Your Gobball Stew is delicious, Alibert.” A pause. “Thank you.”

All three of them kept staring owlishly at her for a few more seconds, causing the doll to further shrink on herself in embarrassment. And, then, they suddenly broke down laughing, which turned her embarrassment into irritation, a vein throbbing on her forehead. Alibert threw his head back as he cackled, Ruel kept banging the counter with his fists, and Yugo was at the very least trying to suppress his blown-out laughter into more modest snickers.

It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, but to Amalia, it might as well have been an eternity.

At long last, the Eliatrope regained his composure enough to tell her, “I knew you’d love it. I’m glad in the end I didn’t make a mistake by bringing you here.”

Though surprised at first by his earnest response, Amalia soon returned his smile with one of her own. “As long as it comes from you, I’m pretty sure I’ll end up loving anything you show me.”

She couldn’t help but feel giddy inside when pink dusted over his cheeks at her admission, her own face growing warm. Sometimes he was just too cute for his own good. Unfortunately for her, the feeling was short-lived.

“Gotta say, last time I checked I was pretty sure you were supposed to be a Sadida demigoddess, not an Osamodas one.”

Amalia grimaced at the thought of being called Osamodas’ daughter, especially when she remembered the uncomfortable feeling she got whenever she locked eyes with the royal family. If it weren’t because of her own personal grudge against Count Harebourg, she would say not even Frigost was as cold as their sneers.

She was almost too afraid to ask. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Yugo just shrugged innocently. When he smirked, his fangs glinted dangerously. “It’s just, you were eating like a hungry beast right there.”

Her cheeks ablaze, Amalia let out a scandalised squawk and gently swatted him on the shoulder. Much to her chagrin, her reaction only caused Yugo to laugh harder.

Rolling her eyes at the unkingly display with a huff, she turned in her stool to face Alibert again and ask him more about his former profession. Only for the words to die in her throat when she noticed the chef and his old friend staring back at them with unreadable expressions on their faces.

“What are you guys looking at?”

From the corner of her eye, she noticed how Yugo shifted in his own stool. The movement of his ears indicated he, too, was beginning to feel anxious.

Feeling like they had been caught, Alibert shook his hands in front of himself in an attempt to dispel any lingering tension, while Ruel pretended to go back to nursing his tankard.

“No, no, nothing at all!” The chef rushed out, sweatdropping under her suspicious glare. “I’m just glad you seem to enjoy my food that much, Lady Amalia. It’s not every day that a divine child comes into my restaurant and praises my culinary skills like that.”

“Except for when Yugo and Adamaï come.” Ruel muttered into his bamboo milk. He let out a yelp when Alibert elbowed him to cut it out.

“Oh.” Amalia said, timidly looking at her side and tucking some hair behind her ear. “In that case, yes, I very much enjoyed your food, Alibert.” She sent a conspiratory wink his way and stage-whispered. “Don’t tell the kitchen staff back at the palace, but yours is the best cooking I’ve had since I arrived.”

The Enutrof smiled. “Your secret’s safe with me, my Lady.”

“And with me.” Yugo agreed. “Between you and me, I also like Alibert’s cooking better, but what kind of king would I be if I put down my people’s cooking for an outsider’s?”

The three of them laughed at his joke, while Ruel hid his own smirk behind his drink. Bringing yet another spoonful to her mouth in a much more subdued pace, Amalia made sure to redirect the conversation back to its original topic.

“So, is that why you quit, Alibert?” When all he did was raise a confused eyebrow, she elaborated. “Because the bounty hunter life was too dangerous?”

The Enutrof’s bewildered expression softened into a small, wistful smile.

“Yes and no.”

And so, as his two guests stuffed their faces with his specialty and he busied himself with prepping upcoming orders and ordering his employees around, Alibert told them all about how he came to leave that life behind.

According to the Enutrof, while he certainly didn’t regret all the adventures he and Ruel had been to and everything they had seen, after a while, it stopped being all that fulfilling. Whenever they handed their latest target in and received their reward, he would find his gaze and mind wandering, far too distracted by thoughts and choices that had nothing to do with the here and now. More than once, when the two adventurers turned in for the night next to the warm glow of the fire, while Ruel snored to his heart’s content, Alibert laid awake, wondering if that was all there was to it, to his life.

Even more surprising—although, he admitted that, looking back, it really wasn’t— was the fact that he didn’t really enjoy the job all that much in the first place. Granted, it was great that they got to travel as much as they did, and the pay wasn’t so bad, but sometimes, depending on the ‘criminal’ they brought to justice, he couldn’t help the ache in his heart and the heavy chains of regret he would feel. One thing was chasing and capturing a hardened villain and mastermind like some of the most notorious criminals they had faced; and another very different thing was heavily fining or even jailing a poor family man who only wished to feed his loved ones during a time of crisis and famine. Especially when the aristocrats would take decadent meals for granted while the least fortunate starved.

That was when he would most often disregard his duties upon accepting the job; it took a lot of convincing to get Ruel to listen to him, but most of the time, they ended letting those poor, unfortunate souls go and forsaking the reward money.

(And each time without fail he would receive an earful from Ruel about the sacrilege that was letting those precious, precious kamas go just like that).

As luck would have it, one such case didn’t just lead to him quitting the bounty hunter job at long last, but it also led him to Emelka.

The two Enutrofs had taken up a job requiring them to chase down an apple thief. And… that was exactly what they did. Alibert confessed he was hesitant to really punish the guy for the ridiculous crime of robbing some measly apples to begin with, but when he realised he had only done so to feed his children, the kindly Enutrof realised once and for all he couldn’t go on with that kind of life. So he let the man go back to his family, hung up his shovel, and wished Ruel the best of luck in his future endeavours. Now all that was left was forging a new path for himself.

“Let me tell you about this one perk being nice to others has, my Lady.” Alibert winked at her as he placed a hand on his hip. He flicked the rag he had in the other hand before leaning over to wipe the counter with it. “Most people will repay you out of gratitude.”

He nodded towards a middle-aged man sitting at a table near the back of the restaurant, next to him were a young man and woman that appeared to be his family. “See that man over there? He’s the apple thief I was telling you about. When he learned I would be staying in Emelka for a few days until I figured out what to do next, he sought me out and suggested I take over the old inn. Apparently, the village was in desperate need for some new life to be breathed into it.

“At first I wasn’t sure, but then I remembered how I always cooked for Ruel and I whenever we had to camp and I figured, ‘Why not?’.” He chuckled to himself, his eyes darting down in reminiscence as he scrubbed a difficult stain on the wood a little more furiously. “One thing led to the other and now, not only do I run the most successful inn on this side of Amakna, but I also ended up becoming the village’s mayor.” He let out a wistful sigh. “Life sure has ways to surprise you.”

Her polished plate of stew long finished, Amalia listened to Alibert’s tale with rapt attention, her head resting on her knuckles and her eyes sparkling in a newfound sense of profound admiration. If she already respected the man before due to his adventuring days, then his undeniable heart of gold managed to win her over completely. Not everyone was capable of going against the law to do the actual right thing, and even fewer people did so with the promise of money in mind, especially when the people in question were Enutrofs. So the fact that Alibert managed to resist his kama-loving instincts and decided to forge a path for himself was beyond incredible to the doll.

Her brows knitted together and her lips pursed in a firm line when Efrim’s words echoed unbidden in her mind, reminding her of her own shortcomings. She had a long way to go before she could ever be close to the chef’s level.

She blinked those thoughts away when Yugo agreed with Alibert, “It sure has. Just when you think you have it all figured out, life throws a curved ball at you that sends you reeling and struggling to regain your footing.”

Was she imagining things, or did his gaze flit momentarily to hers before he hastily fixed it right back ahead? Her eyebrow only raised higher when he cleared his throat, his voice suddenly hoarse. “A-anyway, I’m glad you eventually managed to find your path and to live your life to the fullest, Alibert. You deserve it.”

As if to emphasise his point, he raised his goblet in the air and tilted it slightly towards the chef, silently making a toast in his honour Amalia found herself mimicking heartily.

They didn’t understand when the innkeeper let out a heavy sigh. “Thank you, Yugo. But, as much as I enjoy my life as it is now, that doesn’t mean I don’t have a few regrets of my own.” As he said that, he gazed longingly at the table where the old apple thief and his family were seated at, a sad glint reflected in his dark brown irises.

Staring back and forth between Alibert and the family all the way over to the other side of the restaurant in confusion, the doll’s expression lit up in understanding before it melted into sympathy for the man. For all his accomplishments over the years, what Alibert truly wanted was a family of his own, but, for some reason or another, he never got the chance.

As much as the Divine Doll wanted to reach out and console him, she remained quiet, her hands clutching at her pants nervously. No matter how generous, kind, and welcoming Alibert was, they had barely known each other for a short while. She couldn’t help but feel like she would be intruding upon something very personal if she said anything. Besides, Ruel and Alibert had known each other for years; if anyone could cheer him up, it was him.

Somehow, that didn’t make her feel all that much better over her own lack of initiative.

She perked up when instead it was Yugo who reached out to the old innkeeper, placing his bandaged hand on his forearm to draw his attention. When the Enutrof looked down at him, the doll could see from the corner of the eye how the king had his characteristic comforting smile plastered on his face.

“If there’s something I’ve learned over the years, it’s that no matter how long you live and how many things you do, chances are, you’ll never get to do everything you ever wanted.” He confessed, his voice kind but unwavering in its conviction. It was at moments like that Amalia remembered Yugo was also a demigod, only he had lived for far longer and was far more experienced than her.

“We will always have regrets; after all, that is the price you pay for being able to make your own choices.” He continued. “What matters is that we don’t let those regrets keep us from enjoying the things we got right.”

For a moment, Alibert just stared at the boy in front of him, amazed by seeing such wisdom coming from such a young man. Then again, he supposed Yugo wasn’t really that young, now was he? How old did he say he was last time he asked, 500-something? Despite how he might look, he had already seen far more than the vast majority of the World of Twelve, and yet, he remained humble enough to let himself be taught and schooled by others.

The old innkeeper guessed it was easy to forget Yugo was an extremely long-lived Eliatrope when, not only did he look to be in his twenties, but more than once Alibert himself had been there for him, listening to him vent as he unloaded his many responsibilities and worries unto him, sometimes still feeling as unprepared to be king as he did when his brother Chibi (if memory served) first appointed him as his successor.

It was so easy to see a young man taking his first steps into adulthood when he still bickered and squabbled with his twin brother like a pair of kids. Or when his insecurities consumed him and Alibert would witness how he’d curl in on himself, appearing much younger than he really was both physically and mentally. Or when he would blush, and stutter, and gaze longingly at the beautiful flower he had brought with him as if he were a smitten teenager introducing his first girlfriend to his parents instead of a centuries-old demigod.

From the moment they met, something about Yugo made Alibert want to be there for him, no matter what. He couldn’t help but get all misty-eyed when it was apparent Yugo wanted to do the same thing for him.

His wide grin stretching from ear to ear, he snaked his own arm over Yugo’s shoulders and brought the king closer with an affectionate tug and a squeeze, laughing merrily and insisting he bring Adamaï over soon as the latter complained half-heartedly over not being able to breathe.

From her seat, Amalia watched the exchange equal parts mesmerised and endeared. A few giggles escaped her as Ruel joined in on the fun and Alibert, with the grumpiest pout she had ever seen in her admittedly short life, playfully shoved the old miser away, grumbling about personal space as he did so. Her lips tugging upwards into a fond smile, Amalia found herself thinking that Alibert had found his own little family after all.

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

“...and that is the story of how I led a Precious Metal Band, before that shameless fiend of Phil Armonique got greedy and crushed my dreams.” Ruel finished his tale with a swig of his drink and a nostalgic grumble. While Alibert leaned on the counter, rolling his eyes exasperatedly, Amalia and Yugo stared at the old Enutrof with eyes wide as saucers.

If only by the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

“But… you guys never even settled for a name…” Yugo pointed out warily. He had a feeling Ruel wouldn’t react well to being confronted with reality.

His suspicions were proven correct when the old miser slammed his tankard against the counter hard enough to startle both Eliatrope and Sadida Doll, a nasty snarl on his face.

“Only because that foolish bragard refused to acknowledge the fact that my name was better! Hadn’t it been for that stubborn Dragoturkey, we would have taken the World of Twelve by storm!

“Do you know how popular Precious Metal is in Brakmar?” He asked aloud, but before either Yugo or Amalia had so much as a chance to open their mouths to respond, he cut them off, throwing his arms to the side frantically. “We could have been rich!”

His eyes welled up with tears at the thought of all the precious kamas he lost, holding his head in his hands as he bawled furiously. So close and yet, so far… “And all because that egotistical, talentless hack insisted we named the band after him, even though I was the brains of the operation and the most important member to boot!” Yugo instinctively snaked an arm around Amalia’s waist and brought her closer to him when she flinched just as Ruel’s wails were beginning to raise in volume. “Had he seen reason and agreed to go along with my idea, our band’s name would have been remembered for generations!”

“Uh-huh.” Alibert, who was more than accustomed to his best friend’s little spiels and his tendency to lose himself in his hysterics whenever it came to money, just hummed noncommittally. Then, just as casually, he called out to Ruel. “And what did you say was the name of your band again?”

Sniffing loudly, Ruel opened his mouth to answer, only to close it immediately after. His face scrunched up in thought. “I… actually don’t remember.” He admitted sheepishly after a beat, flashing them a toothy grin as he rubbed the back of his head.

While Yugo could only facepalm, Amalia almost fell off her stool For his part, Alibert just let out an exasperated sigh. “I knew it.”

Just as the old Enutrof was about to defend himself, the offended frown evident on his face, the Eliatrope cut in, standing from his stool and clasping his hands together. Looking up at him, the doll momentarily wondered if it was time they left already, and she couldn’t help the pang of disappointment she felt at the thought. She didn’t have anything to worry about, however.

“As… entertaining as this has been,” Yugo commented diplomatically, pulling a face. “That last glass of water passed through me with the speed of a racing Dragoturkey, so, Alibert,” he addressed the man. “Would you please be so kind as to remind me where the restroom is?”

For a moment, the old innkeeper just blinked, bewildered, before he snapped out of his trance and let out a full-on belly laugh. Sometimes dealing with Yugo could be a riot, especially when he acted as casual as any man his age—or, well, any man whose actual age was the one he looked—, only to immediately afterwards regain the same level of formality and eloquence expected from someone of his position.

Then again, considering Amalia was still present, he had a pretty good guess he was doing it mostly for her sake.

With one last chuckle, he jabbed his thumb to the side. “It’s right down the hall, Your Majesty. Let me know if you need me to refill the toilet paper or something.”

“Don’t worry. I can take care of it.” He smirked over his shoulder, wiggling his fingers meaningfully as he excused himself.

With Yugo gone for the time being, Amalia found herself growing a little self-conscious. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been enjoying Alibert and Ruel’s company, though the latter could be a bit of an acquired taste, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t feel more at ease around new people if Yugo was there with her.

She frowned at the thought, once again remembering Efrim’s hurtful but accurate assessment of her. She involuntarily closed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth as his voice echoed in her mind for the umpteenth time, tearing into her for her dependence on his brother. Even now, she needed him by her side just to be able to talk to two perfectly friendly people who had been nothing but kind to her. And he was just down the hall!

What was wrong with her? Couldn’t she do anything on her own? Did she always have to depend on Yugo? Just, what kind of Divine Doll was she—?

“Kama for your thoughts?”

She blinked rapidly, the self-disparaging trance she was in now broken. “Huh?” She oh-so-eloquently said.

It took her a little more than she’d like to admit to regain her bearings, but when she finally did, she found both Ruel and Alibert were looking at her with unreadable expressions on their faces. Though, Amalia could tell they weren’t unkind. If anything, they looked worried about her.

“Oh, no.”

Before she had the time to panic and try to frantically excuse herself, Ruel repeated his question. “Kama for your thoughts?”

The doll tilted her head to the side, “You charge people for thinking?” She honestly couldn’t put it past him…

“Probably in Brakmar.”

When it became clear the joke flew right over her head, her face scrunched up in confusion, Alibert stepped in to clarify. “Technically speaking, it’s Ruel who’s offering to pay you in exchange for hearing your thoughts, Lady Amalia.”

“Now, if you feel like paying me, who am I to deny the wish of a Divine Doll such as yourself?” Ruel chimed in, solemnly placing a hand over his heart in a display that wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Please, ignore him.” The innkeeper waved him off. When he focused back on the doll, his expression turned softer, more fatherly. “What we’re trying to say is, is there something troubling you, my Lady?”

Amalia was about to deny everything when Alibert jabbed a finger right in front of her face, causing her to yelp in surprise. “And don’t you even think about shrugging it off as nothing. I might be a humble innkeeper, but I have so many drunk and not-so-drunk customers confiding their problems with me, I might as well be a certified therapist at this point.”

“He’s not wrong, you know.” Ruel added as he took another swig of his bamboo milk—just how many of those had he had already? It was honestly impressive he still seemed to be coherent at all. For an Enutrof, he could give a Pandawa a run for their money. “There’s a reason I come here so often.”

For once, Alibert bit back a scathing remark about how he only seemed to come visit because he never forced him to pay his tab, no matter how much he complained about his best friend mooching off from him. But he held back. Now that wasn’t important, helping Amalia with whatever seemed to be on her mind was.

Instead, he lowered his voice so it’d sound as encouraging as possible, offering the doll a small smile. “So, what seems to be the problem?”

Alibert watched as Amalia seemed to be battling with herself and whatever demons were plaguing her mind. Bringing a hand to her chest and bawling it into a fist, she averted her gaze, looking at everywhere but them, and bit down on her bottom lip. From her guarded, tense posture alone, it was easy to tell she was really debating whether she should say anything or insist on taking her secrets to the grave.

After what felt like an eternity, the Divine Doll seemed to finally make up her mind. Her gaze down-lidded and gleaming with vulnerability, she let out a heavy sigh before glancing over at the chef. The way her shoulders sagged made it look like she alone was carrying the weight of the world—at least, whatever was burdening her must have been very heavy. She bit her lip a little harder.

“Recently, I’ve been having… doubts.” She admitted, her voice small and unsure. She hugged herself for comfort as she spoke, her arms holding her torso as if she feared she would come breaking down unless she forced herself to keep it together.

When she grew silent again, Alibert urged her gently. “What kind of doubts?”

As images of her last encounter with Efrim flashed through her mind, merciless, she forced herself to grit out. “About a lot of things, really.” She shrugged, small and helpless.

She wouldn’t go into much detail about what was really on her mind. After all, the last thing she needed was rumours going on about how a member of the Council of Six wasn’t just distrustful of her, but had also attacked and insulted her—Her! A Divine Doll. It would only serve to further aggravate the already tense rapport between Eliatropes and Twelvians and she couldn’t afford to make matters worse.

“I was forced to face the fact that maybe…” She swallowed thickly. “That maybe I’m not worthy of being one of Sadida’s Dolls.” Her voice almost broke with that admission, the stinging sensation in her eyes back at full force as she tried to keep the tears that threatened to stream down her cheeks at bay.

Both Enutrofs shared alarmed glances, struggling to believe their own ears. This time, it was Ruel who spoke up, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “My dear, surely you don’t think that! After all, you are a Sadida Doll—he made you himself! There’s no way you aren’t worthy of the position if you were born with it.”

“But that’s just it!” Amalia had to summon every ounce of self-control she possessed not to screech, worried over her voice carrying over to Yugo and alerting him of her current emotional state. If there was one thing she wanted to avoid at all costs, that was the king finding out about what happened with his little brother. “Sadida made me to be objectively exceptional! I’m a living, breathing doll with powers beyond mortal comprehension, for crying out loud!

“And yet, I feel like, no matter how much I try, nothing I do ever amounts to anything. I’m surrounded by extraordinary people, all of them working themselves to the bone to achieve their goals and serve their purpose. And then there’s me… Despite having the devastating power of nature at my fingertips, I feel like I can’t do anything on my own. I’m always depending on others, to the point I’m utterly helpless by myself. How can I call myself a Divine Doll if I’m so pathetic!?”

As she spoke, her voice grew wobbly and unsure, threatening to tear her throat apart as the tears welled up in her eyes. By the time she was done talking, the dam broke and all she could do was sob as silently as possible into her hands, her body shaking with the motion. Luckily for her, Ruel was doing everything in his power to shield her from any prying eyes in her moment of vulnerability, both by placing a comforting hand on her shoulder as he leaned closer to her and by sending nasty glares as anyone who got too curious. She would have to remember to thank him when she wasn’t such a mess.

She was taken aback when Alibert abruptly changed the subject, his tone even as he levelled with her. “Have you ever been to the Sadida Kingdom, my Lady?”

“W-what?” Was all she managed to say between sniffles, looking up at the chef from her hands with watery but confused brown eyes. Her shoulders still shook now and then from her sobbing.

“Have you ever been to the Sadida Kingdom?” He repeated. “Or met one of your father’s followers?”

Despite her bewilderment, the doll managed to answer honestly. “Um, no? I-I mean, I haven’t been to the Sadida Kingdom y-yet. Father sent me straight to the Eliatropes. And this is actually the second time I ever leave their territory, the first one being when we headed over to Bonta. Although, it was precisely there that I met the Sheran Sharms, the Sadida Royal Family.”

“I see.”

Alibert hummed with a nod, at the same time, he took her and Yugo’s plates away and stashed them into the sink to wash them later. Truth be told, in all his adventures over the world, he had never actually met the Sheran Sharms, as none of their travels ever took him and Ruel to their kingdom, let alone their court. He knew snippets and rumours he would gather from travelling Sadida who talked amongst themselves either as they parted from home or returned after some time away.

From them he gathered that King Oakheart Sheran Sharm was beloved by his people thanks to his open-minded and welcoming, yet responsible and just nature. That his kingdom wept the loss of their dear queen almost as much as her family did. That young Prince Armand was shaping up into a worthy successor… even if he could still be quite arrogant, condescending, and his breath was bad enough to kill a Bwork. That a general feeling of unease regarding his decision to marry an outsider like that one Osamodas princess reigned supreme, as well as their general malcontent when it came to her… Really, the usual idle gossip amongst civilians.

But he had also learned enough over the years to understand the Tree People weren’t ones to be underestimated, and it would greatly hurt both them and their patron god to see a Divine Doll, the only creatures they worshipped as much as Sadida and their forests, beat herself up like Amalia was doing at the moment.

“W-why do you ask?” The doll stammered out as she tried to wipe the tears off her face. Much to her chagrin, however, Alibert chose to answer her query with a question of his own.

“What did you think of them?”

“Of who? You mean the Sheran Sharms?”

The Enutrof nodded. He shot a meaningful look at Ruel, who was watching the scene in bewilderment, to remain silent.

“Oh. Uh, let’s see…” Amalia began. Unbeknownst to her, during the time it took her to gather her thoughts to reply, she was doing exactly what Alibert expected her to. That question had forced her to keep her mind off her own insecurities and to focus on something else, which in turn helped her calm down, as evidenced by the fact that her breaths were no longer shallow and her tears had subsided.

“Well, I remember being taken aback when I first met Prince Armand. Don’t get me wrong, I could tell he greatly cares for his kingdom and takes his duty and position as future king very seriously. It's just…” She bit her bottom lip, weighing her words carefully. “Maybe he takes it a little too seriously? Believe me when I say not even Father himself is as formal as he was, and he seemed to be especially guarded when it came to Yugo and the Council. But I guess that’s to be expected.” She shrugged.

“And then there was King Oakheart…” The doll trailed off, her mind going back to the first time she was face-to-face with the current leader of her father’s followers and the greatest treasure he could have given to the World of Twelve—its forests. She wouldn’t have been able to keep her lips from curling into a smile at the memory even if she had wanted to. “It was plain to see that the Sadida are in good hands. My father must be incredibly pleased to know his people and forests are protected by such a wonderful man.”

“I’m sure he is.” Alibert agreed as he handed a napkin to the doll to dry her tears with. “I must admit I haven’t had the ‘pleasure’,” even if he hadn’t air-quoted the words, the tone of his voice would have been enough to understand he was being sarcastic, “of being formally introduced to the world’s leaders.”

“Sometimes, dealing with the mayors and figureheads of the communities we visited was bad enough.” Ruel chimed in with a roll of his eyes.

“Right.” Alibert nodded. Then, he turned back to an expectant Amalia. “But I will say this, out of all the kings and queens, and princes and princesses their travelling subjects have talked about around me, everyone seemed to agree King Oakheart is clearly the best leader they could ever ask for. Which doesn’t surprise me, as that man seems to embody Sadida values through and through.”

Perking up at that last part, Amalia tilted her head to the side, intrigued. As a Sadida herself, technically, she was well-acquainted with the commandments the Leafy God’s disciples were supposed to follow, which she did without fail. Still, judging by the way the innkeeper said that, she had the feeling he wasn’t actually referring to the king’s pious nature.

“I suppose the ruler of the Sadida Kingdom must possess a powerful link and respect for nature…” She chuckled, scratching her cheek sheepishly. She let out a squeak when the chef just shook his head good-naturedly.

“If you ever get the chance to go to the Sadida Kingdom, my Lady, I suggest you take it. You see, I have never been there myself, but I have served enough Sadida their food to believe I have quite a good grasp when it comes to understanding what makes them tick.”

“What makes them tick…?” Amalia repeated, blinking slowly. ‘Tick’ as in, like a Xelor?

He nodded. “That’s right. From what I’ve gathered, Sadida are easily amongst the most easy-going and laid-back races populating this world. Most of them aren’t concerned with fleeting, shallow things like fame and fortune, rather, they prefer to keep their feet firmly on the ground and add their two kamas by helping preserve what they consider to be the greatest gift of all…”

“Nature.” Amalia finished for him, the answer so ingrained into her, it left her mouth before she so much as had time to register what she said.

Alibert chuckled as he handed another order over to one of his waiters. “Precisely.” His expression, while it never lost its levity, gained a new, meaningful edge. “However, just because they’re peaceful and know how to appreciate the small things in life, that does not mean they are pushovers, for all Sadida are born with one purpose: to protect the forests of the world and their loved ones.

“Your people are nature-lovers, Lady Amalia, that much is undeniable. But it’s precisely because they love nature so much that they’re willing to become fearsome warriors in order to protect it. And, from what I gathered, that attitude also extends to their royal family.”

This time, it was Ruel who spoke, his voice laced with a conviction and thinly-veiled disdain that was odd in him, especially when it had nothing to do with having lost money. “Many other royals will use their position to justify having others do their dirty work for them, all the while they act as nothing more than paperpushers, at best, or self-serving despots far more concerned with indulging in their own debauchery than fulfilling their actual duties, at worst. But not the Sheran Sharms.”

“The Sheran Sharms aren’t just leaders, they are warriors. To be a Sadida is to be a warrior. And no Sadida would ever allow for anyone to look down on them just because their own ferocity isn’t immediately obvious as compared to Iop, Cra, or Sacrier.” Alibert finished for his old friend, before his hazel gaze settled back on the Divine Doll staring at him almost as if he had burst open the gates to Inglorium with his bare hands. His gaze was almost as piercing as what he said next. “Lady Amalia, you are Sadida’s Doll and, therefore, warrior blood runs through your veins. You should feel as proud of yourself as you feel about your people. It’s the least you all deserve.”

The Divine Doll felt her heart stop at his words, before it started pumping blood again, this time, with an intensity that was carried all over her body. It was like pure electricity coursing through her system, motivating her to move past her own weakness and make her father and their people proud. She needed to become stronger. She could become stronger. If her people, mortal as they were, faced each challenge head on in the name of what they believed in, so could she. She just needed to work on herself and to never give up.

She could do this. She would do this. For Yugo and his people. For Sadida and his worshippers. For herself. It was high time she faced her own demons and learned to vanquish them, and this time, nothing, not even a powerful dragon with a bone to pick with her, would get in her way.

Such was the excitement she felt at the moment, her emotions overwhelming her, the Sadida Doll didn’t even register the single tear that was streaming down her face until a voice she knew and adored called out to her, concern dripping from every syllable:

“Amalia, why are you crying?! Did something happen?”

With a small gasp of surprise she looked to the side just in time to see Yugo closing the distance between them and kneeling on the floor to reach out to her, the stools standing in the way be darned. When his hand cupped her cheek and he lovingly wiped the stray tear down her cheek away with his thumb, she immediately regretted the fact that his hands were currently bandaged by that dark cloth. She longed for his warmth, so much so, she couldn’t keep herself from leaning into his touch.

“Amalia…”

He uttered her name with such gentleness and tender concern for her, the doll’s heart constricted violently in her chest. Her hand came into contact with his, her own thumb rubbing circles on the back of it.

“I’m fine, Yugo. I’m fine.” She didn’t know where she found the conviction that was imbued into her voice, but she wasn’t about to look a gift Dragoturkey in the mouth. If she began to question it, she feared she’d end up spilling everything to Yugo, even when she and Nora had already agreed it’d be best to leave him in the dark so as to not worry him. Just this once.

His brows knitted together in deep concern, Yugo flashed a furtive, questioning glance towards the old Enutrofs watching the interaction, his eyes narrowing when all they did was shake their heads and shrug innocently. Too innocently. It was clear they at the very least had an inkling on what had been troubling Amalia lately, yet they refused to divulge the information.

On the one hand, the Eliatrope was glad those two were proving to be trustworthy enough not only to him and Adamaï, but to Amalia as well. She really needed some more people she could count on in this world. But on the other hand, he couldn’t help the clenching of his jaw at their secrecy. Today’s visit was supposed to help Amalia take her mind off her worries, not bring them back full force only to still push him away when all he wanted to do was help her!

Just as his eyes were beginning to glow blue from frustration, the doll’s sweet voice brought him back to the present. “Yugo, please. I’m serious, I’m okay. You have nothing to worry about, I swear. Come on, Ruel was about to tell us that joke about how he was married once.”

How could she say that so nonchalantly? How could she ask him not to worry about her? Didn’t she know that, ever since she arrived, something deep inside him stirred whenever it came to her? That her safety and well-being were always at the forefront of his mind? How did she expect him to not grow concerned when something was clearly wrong yet she still refused to confide in him what it was? When his heart thudded so painfully at the mere thought?

“Please?” She insisted, a sweet smile curling at her lips, and his heartbeat became more erratic.

He let out a heavy sigh, accepting defeat. “Alright.” He offered his own smile in return.

As they listened on to Ruel’s tale about his wife—an even more intrepid and cunning Enutrof than him called Arpagone, apparently—, and they lost themselves in their own laughter at the sheer impossibility of the old miser ever getting married, the two demigods placed one hand over the table, next to each other. And if they noticed how, at some point during the story, their fingers brushed against each other and grew closer until their fingertips intertwined, neither said a word.

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

This time, it was Amalia who had to excuse herself. Only, instead of going to the restroom, with Alibert’s reluctant permission, she was buzzing around the restaurant accompanied by Toto, Matou, and Tomato, who were practically drooling over her. Seriously, their boss had had to warn them about getting spit on the food about four times already.

As the Enutrof observed their interactions, especially the way they followed her around like a bunch of lovesick puppies, Alibert couldn’t help but groan. He brought two fingers to his face and pinched his nose. He honestly should have seen it coming. Not only because of the boys’ entranced reaction the moment they first laid their eyes on the doll, but also because of how they acted when they approached her.

They’d been deep in conversation, with Amalia trying to explain the fact that, no, Sadida didn’t sleep the day away because they were lazy, but because they were in a deep meditative state as they connected to nature, when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Blinking in surprise, she turned around on her stool, only to find herself face-to-face with the nervous, flushed faces of the three young men working for Alibert. If it weren’t because he knew this would negatively impact their effectiveness at their jobs, the Enutrof would have found the way they rubbed the back of their neck, and stammered, and tugged at their collars nervously as they shyly requested a little bit of the demigoddess’ time amusing.

As it were, however, the irritated twitch of his eyebrow at the seventh complaint begged to differ. Although, as he laid his eyes on the green-haired doll as she fluttered around, her eyes glimmering in curiosity at everything the boys showed her, Alibert couldn’t really blame them. Perhaps Amalia wasn’t his type—and not just because he was old enough to be her father—, but he still could tell when a woman was beautiful. And Amalia was absolutely gorgeous, a kind of wild beauty whose only reasonable explanation was its divine nature. And the way most men and several women would ogle at her as she passed by their side was testament enough of that.

Although perhaps the biggest piece of evidence was Yugo’s own reaction to the way Amalia unintentionally brought attention to herself. That, too, would be amusing if it weren’t so scary.

The Eliatrope King was sitting on his own stool, his back to the counter and his arms spread wide at his sides. He was drumming the index finger of his right hand against the wooden board, the action following a furious rhythm that had Alibert on edge, afraid that it might end up piercing through the wood. His brown eyes, focused and unblinking, were currently narrowed in on Matou as he tried to shower Amalia with compliments, though they would immediately change targets if anybody else got too close to the doll or stared at her for too long for his liking.

Alibert flinched, pulling a face, when Toto leaned to close into Amalia’s personal space, until the two of them were practically flush against each other. He had to bite down a whine when the scowl on Yugo’s face deepened and the first crackles of blue energy made their presence known.

He honestly didn’t know if Ruel opening his big mouth was a blessing or a curse.

“Didn’t take you for the jealous type, Yugo.”

The change was instantaneous. One second, the king’s furious gaze was on the scene unfolding in front of him, and the next, he turned to scowl at the old miser. His frantic eyes were wide even as his scowl deepened. It was a little unnerving, if he was being honest with himself.

“I am not jealous.” Yugo growled.

“Really?” Ruel arched an eyebrow, amused and seemingly ignoring his best friend’s signs to shut up on purpose. “Then what do you call overzealously watching Amalia’s every move as all eyes are drawn to her?” He chuckled when the Eliatrope’s face twitched at his accusation, before pointing at it. “Or that?”

“I’m not jealous.” Yugo huffed, turning back around to face the restaurant and crossing his arms almost petulantly, his poncho rustling with his movements. “I’m just worried about Amalia, that’s all.”

“C’mon, my boy. She’s a Divine Doll. Pretty sure she can handle herself just fine against some hungry customers…” Ruel insisted with a dismissive wave of his hand, though he recoiled a bit when Alibert sent him a warning glare.

“It wouldn’t be the first time she was on the receiving end of an admirer’s unwanted advances, unable to stop it…” He spat out, his vision darkening momentarily as memories of Harebourg’s hands tightly gripping the poor doll’s wrist and her terrified face flashed through his mind.

The Enutrofs shared a look at that piece of information. It didn’t take them long to piece everything together. Could it be that was the reason why Amalia had confessed she felt unworthy of her position, because she had been unable to stop something like that from happening?

While that would indeed explain a lot of things, it still wasn’t enough to shed some light to Yugo’s own behaviour. Alibert knew from his and Adamaï’s various visits that, despite his laid-back and jovial attitude, Yugo was actually fiercely protective of those he cared about, namely his family and subjects. Now, it was plain to see that the same courtesy extended to Amalia, too. However, that couldn’t be all there was to it.

When he had seen the tears streaming down the doll’s face, the king’s voice was tinged with deep concern as he all but begged her to tell him what was bothering her. And when the Sadida beauty insisted everything was fine, not only didn’t the concern subside, but it was accompanied by frustrated resignation and ill-concealed pain. It was like watching the boy’s heart tear itself open as he pleaded with Amalia to let him in.

It was clear to see from his intense scrutiny of her that those worries didn’t just go away just because they partook in some more friendly conversation and funny anecdotes. If anything, they had come back full force.

Eyes narrowing in suspicion, Alibert tried a different approach.

“Leave the boy alone, Ruel.” He nudged his best friend, who flashed him a confused look. He mouthed ‘Let me handle this’ to him, to which he nodded. “It’s only natural to look after the people you care about.”

Yugo nodded. “Exactly. Thank you, Alibert.”

“Especially when you’re in love with them.”

It was like a record being scratched, the tension in the atmosphere so thick you could cut it with a knife. The silence, deadly. Ruel, his jaw millimetres away from touching the floor, was pulling at the remaining hair he had in utter disbelief, while Yugo’s whole body had stiffened. Even if he had his back to them still and his poncho draped over his shoulders, there was no mistaking his tense posture nor the death grip he had on the wooden counter. Alibert swore he heard how the wood splintered under his fingertips.

The fact that his voice sounded even at all was honestly impressive. “Alibert, I’m not in love with Amalia.”

A small smirk stretched itself over the Enutrofs lips. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Yugo hissed, his face scrunched up in frustration. He had turned around on his stool so fast, Ruel was actually expecting the force to propel his spin for a little while longer. His grip on the counter was too strong, apparently.

“Then why are you so worried about her?” Alibert countered as he wiped a mug clean. He nodded towards the doll and her admirers. “You know those three; they might not resist a pretty girl, but they’d never even think about laying a finger on her. And considering Amalia came with you…”

The rest of that sentence went unspoken, but that didn’t mean Yugo didn’t know exactly what the chef meant by that. Even if Matou, Toto, and Tomatou would never hurt a girl to begin with, the fact that Amalia was with him was proof enough that doing so would be extremely ill-advised. His lips pursed into a thin line, he averted his gaze, his fingers drumming on the counter rhythmically as he debated with himself.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally sighed.

“I’m not jealous.” He repeated for a third time, and even Ruel knew better than to try to contradict him at this point. “But I am concerned. I don’t know why she was crying when I came back from the bathroom,” his brown eyes momentarily flickered towards theirs, giving them one last chance to come clean, but the Enutrofs remained silent, “but something’s definitely wrong. She’s been weird for days, barely eating, not saying much, constantly spacing out…

“This is the first time in days she’s been back to her old self. Something clearly happened, but whenever I ask her about it, she either insists everything is fine or changes the subject, and it’s driving me crazy!” His fists clenched tightly, the action highlighted by the bandages he wore, threatening to tear at the seams. The rigidness in his shoulders and arched back belied the tension in the air. “Doesn’t she know by now all I want to do is help her? Does she trust me so little?”

Eyes widening slightly at his admission, both Enutrofs exchanged one last look and a nod. Without hesitation, Alibert reached out and placed a hand on the Eliatrope King’s shoulder, urging him to look at him.

“Yugo, why did you decide to bring Amalia here today?”

Yugo blinked blankly, taken aback by the abrupt change in topic. He answered honestly nonetheless. “It was Ad’s idea. He suggested the best way to help Amalia right now might be to just take her mind off of whatever’s been troubling her.”

“I see. That was smart of Ad.”

Yugo nodded absentmindedly.

“And, tell us, boy,” This time, it was Ruel who spoke, leaning closer to him. “Would you say your little strategy’s working so far?”

Brow furrowing at his question, the Eliatrope King quickly turned his head around to look for Amalia. When he found her, he couldn’t help the giddy fluttering in his chest or the warmth bubbling up in his stomach at the sight before him.

Amalia was currently talking to Alibert’s employees—which caused a certain level of irritation to flare up within the Eliatrope, especially given the lovestruck look on their faces—, but as she did so, that wonderful smile of hers that he found so hard to resist, that smile that had been rare to see for the past few days, was finally back on her face. The doll was chatting animatedly with whomever would listen, which included several of Alibert’s patrons who seemed to find her presence and curiosity endlessly refreshing. She would laugh, and clasp her hands in excitement, and her eyes would glimmer in child-like wonder. And if any of them got too cocky, she would simply roll her eyes with a smirk and sass them back in their place.

The sight alone was enough to fill him with an inexplicable feeling of peace, bliss emanating from his every pore as his previous anxieties left his body.

That was the Amalia he had been desperately looking for. The one he had longed for these past few days. The Amalia who would spend hours talking to him about every topic under the sun. The Amalia who would blow him away whenever she showed him what she could do, or just by being herself. The Amalia who, just by watching him train as intently as she did, always managed to make him feel like the most important person in the Krosmoz.

The Amalia he knew and loved.

The realisation hit him like a tonne of bricks.

Eyes wide and heartbeat racing from the revelation, the blood rushing to his ears as his whole body flushed, Yugo almost didn’t hear Alibert when he said:

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to help; on the contrary, it shows you care. But, sometimes, the best way to help is not by doing what we think is right and intervening, but by simply being there as we let the other person take care of their business themselves.”

“Maybe Amalia isn’t ready to tell you what’s on her mind just yet,” Ruel continued, taking a swig out of his drink as he leaned back on his stool, one leg over his other knee. “But I’m sure she will one day. You just gotta be patient, Yugo.”

“And don’t beat yourself up like that.” Alibert scolded him gently, his hands bawled at his hips as he flashed the Eliatrope a mock-warning glare. “I’m pretty sure Amalia will agree with me that you’re doing more than enough just by trying to cheer her up.”

Both Alibert and Ruel rolled their eyes to themselves, thinking back to the doll’s own self-disparaging attitude from before. Dear Enutrof, those two were practically soulmates!

For his part, Yugo just remained quiet, his mind blown from those recent revelations about himself. Could it be true? Could he be in love with Amalia? He wasn’t so sure. He hadn’t really been looking for a relationship this current incarnation, especially with everything that happened with the Mechasms. And he would rather die than ask Qilby about his past love life only to have his infuriatingly observant brother needling him over the possibility of having fallen for Amalia.

He was so lost in thought, he didn’t even register how his gaze had been set on Amalia this whole time. He was only broken out of his stupor when, just then, the doll sensed his eyes on her. Even as the people around her kept on conversing, the Divine Doll swivelled around just enough to face him more fully. She raised one dark-skinned hand to subtly wave at him as she flashed him a beaming smile that turned his insides to mush.

His face scarlet as his heart threatened to burst out of his chest, Yugo awkwardly returned the wave and the smile, though he was sure his was much more dopey than charming. There was no escaping it now.

He was in love with Amalia.

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

“That was so much fun!” Amalia exclaimed, having finally returned from following Matou, Toto, and Tomato around. “Alibert, your customers are the best. They were all so kind and interesting!”

The innkeeper chuckled fondly. “Why, thank you, my Lady. Hearing that from you makes this old mayor proud. I will make sure to let my citizens know they have your approval.”

“Please do, they deserve it.” She nodded with so much refinement despite the silliness of the situation, the Enutrof couldn’t help but chortle. She then turned to her close friend, “Yugo, you were right. The Crispy Gobball Inn is the best restaurant in Emelka!”

“Told you so.” He smiled back at her.

However, there was something different in Yugo’s expression. Even though Amalia had come to know and deeply appreciate each and every one of the faces the Eliatrope King was capable of pulling, this one in particular managed to tug at her heartstrings in ways no other had ever done before. There was this softness, this tenderness, in his gaze that made her insides burn, the fire rising up to her cheeks. The sweet grin that stretched over his lips was small, yet it captured so much more than anything else the doll had ever seen. But she couldn’t pinpoint just what made his current expression so special.

All she knew is that when Yugo looked at her like that, he made her feel like she was the most important person in the world—in his world. And she found she rather liked that. She just wished she knew what caused it.

The spell he had her under was broken by the sound of Ruel clearing his throat. “If you really liked it that much, Amalia, then don’t forget to leave a generous tip for the meal. Old Alibert here will appreciate it.” He winked mischievously at her while he jabbed his thumb in the innkeeper’s direction.

“Don’t listen to him, Lady Amalia.” Alibert waved him off dismissively. “The pleasure of your company was payment enough. This one’s on the house, don’t worry.” He sent her a wink of his own and a winning smile, causing the doll to giggle cutely while Ruel looked like he’d been personally affronted.

“Excuse me?!” He all but bellowed. He raised to his feet and slammed his hands down on the counter demandingly. “Are my ears playing tricks on me, or did you just say they don’t have to pay for their food, even though you’ve been pestering me about paying for years?”

“That’s precisely the point, old friend.” Alibert shot back, not missing a beat. “This is the first time Lady Amalia comes to my restaurant; I can afford not charging her once or twice. You, on the other hand, have been eating for free for about two decades. Seriously, if I had a kama for every time you skipped out on paying, you would have paid off your bet by now!”

As the two old friends went back and forth with their usual bickering, Yugo and Amalia exchanged a look, before they both dissolved into a fit of snickers at their childish antics despite their advanced age. Just then, Yugo was about to speak when the roar of thunder in the distance caught his attention, the ears of his hat perking up as he registered the sound, on high alert.

It looked like those clouds he’d seen earlier were about to finally let loose the downpour. Which meant it was time they returned home.

He turned to the Divine Doll. “Amalia, I think we should go home.”

She let out a disappointed whine. “Awww, already? But we’re having so much fun!”

He flashed her a sad smile. “I know. But if we don’t hurry up, we might find ourselves in the middle of the storm, soaked to the bone.” Although he still didn’t know if Divine Dolls had bones to begin with.

The small pout remained on Amalia’s face for a little while longer, until it melted into resignation as she let out a heavy sigh when she finally registered the howling winds coming from outside. “Okay, I suppose you’re right.”

“Oh, leaving already?” Alibert said, perking up when the two of them got up from their stools.

“Yeah, we have a bit of a walk before we can make it home and we wouldn’t like to get caught up in the rain.” Yugo explained.

“Well, if that’s the case, don’t let me keep you!” The kindly innkeeper said, before clasping both hands on the Eliatrope’s shoulders. “And come more often, you know I love your visits.”

Yugo chuckled, his own smile widening as he brought Alibert into a hug. “I’ll try. You still have to teach me all your cooking secrets, after all!”

“Word of the wise, when it comes to bread, ask anyone but Alibert for help.” Ruel chimed in, standing up as well to bid them goodbye. “These old bones have no equal in the kitchen, but bread’s always been his Achilles’ Heel.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. See you later, Ruel.” Yugo told the old man while Alibert shot a dirty look at his best friend. Then, the former settled his gaze back on Amalia and his expression softened.

“Well, my Lady, it’s been a pleasure having you in my humble establishment.” He told her honestly, a genuine smile on his lips. “Next time His Majesty decides to deem us with his presence, if you feel up to it, don’t hesitate to tag along.” He finished with a wink.

Amalia giggled, waves of affection for this wonderful man coursing through her veins.

“Will do, Alibert. I promise.” Then, she took him by surprise when she threw herself into his arms to hug him tightly. “Thank you for everything, really.”

The chef caught the hidden meaning of her words and grinned widely, returning the hug. “Anytime, Amalia. Anytime.”

When she broke off the hug, she turned to Ruel and offered him a polite bow. “It was great to meet you, too, Ruel. Thank you so much for telling me all about your adventures.”

“Next time you come around, I’ll tell you about the time I met a young Osamodas who swore she used to work as Kérubim Crepin’s cleaning lady.” He promised with a wink.

“I’m looking forward to it.” She giggled.

“Amalia, are you ready?” Yugo asked her, leaning closer to her with his poncho open, directing her attention to the pocket she’d been in earlier. To be honest, the main reason he suggested she transformed again was because, judging from the sound of rain drops coming from outside, it had already began to rain, and he knew the doll wouldn’t appreciate running under the rain and wetting wet, nor going through one of his portals just to reach the Zaap at the outskirts of town.

Her gaze trailing down to the pocket and back to his face, Amalia nodded, understanding it was for the best. With a hum, she disappeared behind a puff of smoke and reappeared in her rag doll form, which caused Ruel’s jaw to drop as his eyes flickered back and forth between her and a nonchalant Alibert.

“If you think that’s shocking, you should see how she changes back into her other form.”

After scooping Amalia up and placing her inside his pocket, Yugo hastily waved them goodbye and thanked them for everything one last time before going out of the door. With the two demigods gone, Ruel plopped back down in his seat and shook his head with the certainty of someone who knew what he was talking about.

“How long do you think it will take them to realise they love each other?”

Alibert smiled, leaning on the counter and closer to his old friend. “I think they’re getting there. Sparks flew whenever their eyes met.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Ruel agreed, shrugging. “I’m just saying, they seemed to be firmly in the Denial stage of their relationship.”

“Give them time. You can’t rush these things. Although…” He trailed off, his lips twitching into a playful smirk. “I wonder if Yugo’s noticed he carries Amalia right next to his heart.”

The two of them shared a laugh over that. They already had a very good feeling the next time those two walked through the door, it’d be hand-in-hand and with good news to share.

Alibert’s smirk dropped into a stern expression when he noticed the way his customers kept gaping at the place Yugo and Amalia had occupied until recently, clearly in disbelief at the sight of a living, breathing Divine Doll. And one that had been talking to them just a few moments ago, at that.

“If any of you speaks a word of any of this to anyone, I’m raising your taxes.” Alibert threatened, his tone serious and no-nonsense. With that, everyone flinched and turned back to their own meals and conversations, acting like nothing happened.

The old innkeeper couldn’t help but smirk in satisfaction. Being the mayor had its perks, sometimes.

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

Yugo gently deposited Amalia back down on her balcony, letting go of her waist while he kept holding her hand as he did so. Normally, he would have just teleported them there, but he figured, since she already knew he could fly—although she didn’t know how—, there was no harm done in taking the scenery route. Besides, even though she seemed to have no trouble when it came to Zaap Portals, he didn’t have the heart to make her sick right as they returned home.

“What a day!” Amalia said as she stretched, her arms up as her back let out an audible pop! “No wonder you love that place so much, Yugo. Alibert is really the best.”

“Yeah, I’m really lucky to have met him. And he’s right, though, I should get Adamaï to visit soon, too.”

“Well, next time you go to Emelka, let me know. No way I’m staying here and letting you two have all the fun!” Amalia placed her hands on her hips as she leaned forward, her voice dripping with mock sternness as she pretended to reprimand the king.

Knowing this, Yugo just raised his palms up with a smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” It was his turn to lean in closer in a stage whisper. “Though between you and me, something tells me Alibert would cook me alive if I didn’t bring you with us next time.”

The doll shrugged, a smirk on her lips. “Well, since he couldn’t cook Adamaï last time…”

The two of them managed to hold their laughter in for all of two seconds, before they couldn’t take it anymore and broke down cackling at the poor dragon’s expense. Without the need for words, they agreed that would be their own little inside joke. Adamaï would not take it well if he learned they were laughing at his misfortune behind his back.

Still holding her stomach, which ached from laughing so much, the doll wiped a tear off her face and smiled up at the Eliatrope. “I had so much fun today, Yugo. Thank you so much for taking me to Emelka. I… I really loved it.”

“You’re very welcome, Amalia.” Yugo’s own smile morphed into a concerned expression, his eyebrows furrowed as he regarded her intently. He had to ask. “Are you feeling better now?”

Amalia was about to deny ever feeling bad when the sincerity and hope in his eyes stopped her in her tracks. His gaze was practically begging her to be honest with him, to finally open up about the insecurities and troubles plaguing her mind ever since her last encounter with Efrim. And though a part of Amalia wanted nothing more than to tell him exactly what happened, another, louder part of herself reminded her of her promise to Nora.

Not only did they agree learning the truth would needlessly worry Yugo and cause conflict between him and Efrim, which was the last thing the Eliatropes needed at the moment, for the Council of Six to be anything but a united front, but Amalia was beginning to think it truly was for the best from a diplomatic standpoint. She already had Efrim against her, she couldn’t afford to lose Nora’s support as well by betraying her trust. If she wanted to fulfil her role as efficiently as possible, she needed to have as many members of the Council of Six on her side as she could.

Then there was the fact that, needlessly harsh and cruel as he had been, there was no denying the young dragon had been right when he accused her of relying too much on Yugo. As much as she appreciated his help, as much as she appreciated him, it was about time the doll learned to stand on her own two feet. And her conversation with Alibert and Ruel had been very enlightening in that regard.

She was Sadida’s eleventh doll, and their people were fearless warriors. As such, she would do everything in her power to become worthy of the Sadida’s admiration and trust, as well as the Eliatropes’. And, thanks to Alibert, she finally had an idea on how to achieve that. That alone made her feel much better about herself and more confident in her own abilities. Because she now had a purpose.

Perhaps that was also the reason why she found herself emboldened enough to do what she did next.

Exhaling through her nose calmly, Amalia stood up on her tippy toes and reached forward, coming to place a kiss on the corner of Yugo’s lip. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard how his breath hitched at the contact.

Breaking away from him, she smiled widely up at his awestruck expression, wider and more honestly than she had done so in days. “Yes, Yugo. I’m feeling much better now, thank you. And I think I’ll go to talk to Glip and Baltazar in the morning.”

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