Chapter 1

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Jolts of pain seized my skull and sent a cacophony of waves resounding through the bone: my carriage, transporting me to my destination ceased to collide with every obstacle in its path, discourteously resulting in my head being forced to clash with thin leather lining the hardwood backboard. This process became tedious after less than a dozen repeats, tension welling up behind my eyes, furthermore, the persistent tremors erupting beneath me, a consequence of uneven cobble laying the road, didn't help ease my discomfort.

Splaying slender fingers and calloused palms, exerting adequate pressure to leave oval-shaped prints in the midnight leather, prints which would last long by virtue of my whole carriage being cheaply crafted with minimal effort; the leather merely rivalled parchment in thickness and the wood beneath wore no cushioning.

I sighed into the confinements of the box which encased me, leaving a cloud where my once warm breath existed. Sheets of ice surrounded me, obstructing my view, though I needn't have windows to visualize what little scenery lay beyond the road, it was ingrained in my cerebrum, leaving a permanent mark on my childhood; rotten vines danced around each other forming silhouettes of trees, dead leaves hung to every branch alluding to the night sky for anyone who dares cross beneath the thicket.

The carriage itself was constructed from the very same wood, building a dark atmosphere inside - to contribute to the eeriness, the surrounding area was plunged into silence, a consequence of a soundproofing spell cast upon the carriage, intending to establish a more 'enjoyable' journey but doing quite the opposite.

After spending most of my childhood settled by forest I'd grown accustomed to the noises of nature and they had become soothing in my nostalgia. Furthermore it was unsettling to be aware of my location yet hear not a deer franticly scurrying away from possible predators; not a murder of crows slicing the canopy, trimming leaves which simply disintegrate; not the growl of an ogre's stomach exaggerated by the walls of its cave. The only frequency allowed to penetrate my eardrums was the faint rattling of the objects inside the moving box.

I was frustrated at my lack of choice in transport; the messenger who called requested I travel in a carriage as to not strike fear into the requester through my usual means of transportation. I thought this to be preposterous and unreasonable but my seniors argued otherwise therefore I had little say in the matter.

Staring at the quiver in my finger trailing the frosted window pane, a shiver cascaded down my body as we bordered the forest and I developed the feeling that I'd quickly become homesick if I did not return soon - one thing they never prepared us for. Growing up we were constantly exposed to propaganda describing the fantastical world outside the forest, how it contrasted the pale greys of the everyday sky and the tedious tasks to be completed day to day - it wasn't until I set foot in the carriage did I truly realize how attached my conscience had become, how much nostalgia was tied to those walls, how I would yearn for the stiff boards and thin blankets of my bed not even fit for one person.

Leather-clad feet filled my vision as I traced the outline of the boot with my pupil, ensuring to sketch all the details in my mind: wrinkles where my toes stretched; crevices from countless kicks to the wall in a mindless state of rage; a hole at the front of my shoe where if you had a keen eye and observed every little detail, you could just see the cotton of my sock peering out. This pair of boots had seen me through the better part of my adolescence, witnessing my highs and lows - for some lows they were the only comfort I had. It took some time and a myriad of arguments to come to a compromise and allow me to wear my worn boots so long as I changed into a new pair, black, shiny and tight as an ogre's grip, before I reached my destination.

Travelling by horse, the estimated journey time was around 2 days, however with a simple, accelerative enchantment I cast ,without anyone discovering, the journey was cut down to a measly 12 hours. The only other fondness I'd gained from the place I grew up besides nostalgia - my refined skill and extensive knowledge were for sure to be grateful for and the only value I possessed, at least the only traits which would lift my quality of life and hurl me up in the world.

When I was made aware of my first request as a fully-fledged sorceress, my seniors themselves believed it to be a prank spell cast by some young mischievous students; envious peers, out to get me; or myself trying to further enhance my reputation. However, such was not the case - my seniors had it proofed and went to speak with the requester themselves expecting to find some elaborate scandal, only to stumble upon someone very high up and very nearly make a mockery out of our home.

"Very high up." Is what they told me, and that is all that anyone has told me, "The person requesting your skill, is very high up and that's all we're allowed to say.", after irking those above me with honest questions they bled this information, though if it were referred to as bleeding then they shan't have shed more than the crimson leaked from a pinprick.

Regardless of others' lack of co-operation, I somewhat unearthed the identity of my requester. If nothing but 'very high up' is all authorised to be disclosed then for safety and privacy purposes this mystery requester must be royalty - I assumed a king or queen, despite my fear of disappointment, my predictions were wildly high, but not impossibly preposterous.

My elders appeared sworn to secrecy, be that as it may there was another reason for my ambitious hypothesis. The requester had not sent for me specifically but the most powerful sorceress my age, although their words were less polite. "My master desires your most skilled sorceress, healthy and ripe out of training.", the messenger described the request without help from a scroll which makes me ponder whether he crafted that or his superior ordered him to speak in such a way.

No hint had been dropped as to what the request were, only that it was 'urgent' and needed someone powerful which was more than enough for the imagination to run wild with speculation and fantasise about the dangers this quest could bring; I had pondered over my first quest since I was young, thus the prospect was considerably enticing. One fantasy though, exceeded them all: a dream of me slaying a dragon, claiming its head by my own hand and taming its children - outshining every good-for-nothing knight in the neighbouring kingdoms.

At 13 I was struck with deep misfortune when I uncovered that dragons were a nearly extinct creature, slain by many-a-knight before I could even get the chance to look at one - the concept is strange though, me being irritated by knights who've only completed the same task I hoped to achieve so theoretically I should've been grateful.

Past the forest lie a more even road and a more stable journey ahead where the air was significantly warmer. Despite the sealed walls of the carriage, I could interpret the warmth by virtue of the increasing clear patches in the white sheets clinging to the windows; tears streamed down its pane and I touched a soft hand out to comfort ourselves.

Buckets of gold, only the richest person in the world could dream of owning doused the carriage in it's silky shine. Everyone knows the sight of a sunrise like the back of their hand yet I couldn't recall ever having the utmost privilege of setting my eyes on one in all my days in the dingy landscape I called home. Suddenly I was infinitely thankful for the sacrifice of ice to pay recompense for blocking the beauty that is the golden hour.

As more ice melted, curved peaks and sloping gradients of roofs and towers materialised in my line of vision, building the hope that we would pass through many more kingdoms on the journey to our destination. I rested my forehead against the pane and sighed into this new world, admiring the elegance of every building and the handsomeness of each shape of the land while envisioning my future.

PENUMBRA // Tamaki Amajiki x Reader Royal AUWhere stories live. Discover now