The air was heady and thick with aromas. A strange but enticing stew simmered on a hearth set hanging in a metal kettle in the center of the room. The spicy aroma mingled with the smell of the mahogany wood interior. It had obviously been brewing for some time, filling the chamber with a smokey ambience.
The two elves huddled together, Hilda and Eddipus lingering at the flame and eating from the stew. The dissonant notes the Winds floated through the air like flocks of birds, whispering in Eddipus's ear.
Eddipus kissed Hilda on the head. "My faithful woman, I love you,"-the white-haired woman smiled and blushed-"and I you, husband."Eddipus leaned back in his chair, arm wrapping around Hilda. "They've failed."Eddipus's face was shrouded in layers of mystery that gave no indication of worry.
"Failed, Eddipus? How do you know this?"
"The Winds. They say Samson managed," Eddipus sighed. "Yet Rose is teetering on the edge of madness." His eyes teared up like water from the very tip of a mountain, hoping beyond hope.
"They'll come through. No matter what happens to Rose, I know it."
Eddipus looked up at Hilda and nodded at her, knowing the Winds spoke to her as well. "I trust you." he said over the crackle of the fire.
Eddipus leaned again against his chair, contemplating a while, flicking his eyes back to Hilda. She smiled warmly at him and raised her arms to embrace the wise old elvenkind. "Why not?" Eddipus sighed, cracking a good smile back. "Yes. They'll come through."
****
"FOOLS!" Rose screamed, her voice echoing through the hall. "Take them away before I decide to have them executed!" Mirranda's sister was no longer the little girl she once knew and loved.
They stood amidst the guardsmen who had weapons trained on them. The tension in the air was palpable, a suffocating atmosphere of fear and betrayal. The guardsmen advanced further towards Mirranda and Samson. They wore masks of stoic professionalism. The young lovers exchanged glances, communicating their unspoken bond.
"Please, Rose," Mirranda pleaded, her eyes glistening with tears. "You don't have to do this. Come home."
"Ah, dear sister," Rose replied with a smirk, her eyes narrowing. "You had your chance to be with me once. You chose to abandon me for your own selfish desires. Now it is my turn to abandon you. I am home."
"NO!" Samson shouted, stepping between Mirranda and the guardsmen protectively, his scimitar at the ready. "You will not harm her!"
"Samson, no," Mirranda yelled, placing a hand on his arm. She knew that any further resistance would only lead to more bloodshed. "We must leave now. We have no choice."Reluctantly, he lowered his weapon.
As they were escorted through the grand halls of Castle Cardamon by Guardsmen led by Danice Malney, Mirranda could not help but feel the weight of their defeat. The once-familiar Rose now felt foreign to her and threatening, tainted by personal rage.
"She was my sister, my family," Mirranda said, her heart heavy with sorrow. "It's my fault she ended up like this?"
"Look, I sympathize with how you must feel," Danice offered in a whisper, attempting to console her. "But there's nothing you can do right now."
"Maybe not," Mirranda responded. "But I can't give up on her. We'll find a way to bring her back."As they rounded the corner of a pale stone hall, Samson and Mirranda darted forward in a desperate attempt to escape Danice and his guardsmen, aware that the slightest mistake would seal their fate. Their feet skittered along the cracked white-and-blue tile floor as they raced for safety.
Unnoticed by the other guardsmen, Danice subtly had motioned them to move forward without eyeing his true motives. Little did they know that Danice felt a pang of empathy for their commitment to convince Rose to join them. He shared their deep passion for family.
"No sound," Samson warned as they advanced with caution down the aisle of closed doors. At every entryway, they halted in unison, restraining their breaths. They strained to sense anything on the other side of each door before proceeding.
After much searching, they pushed open a heavy door to reveal an opulent boudoir. Inside, Rose was seated on a plush velvet chair that had been intricately carved with Alchovian scenes depicting huntsmen and traders on seaside docks. The walls glowed with rich russet colours. Magnificent drapes hung from a polished bronze rod above her and cascaded down to the lush, carpeted floor below. As Mirranda saw her sister's eyes, they looked cold and unfeeling. They were a brilliant dark, like looking into a midnight's void or an obsidian crystal.
"Please, reconsider your decision," Mirranda implored. "Come home with us."
"Pathetic," Rose sneered, her icy gaze locked on her. The presence of Shadowman still coursing through her. "I have found my true calling, Mirranda. My destiny lies with rulership and the company of my followers."
"Rose, don't!" Mirranda cried. The clamor of Rose's Spiderling legs clashed with Mirranda's desperate pleas. In one swift motion, she lunged at Samson. He fumbled to yank his sword free from its scabbard, but it was too late. He felt Rose's razor-sharp fangs embedded deep into his neck and her paralyzing venom coursing through his veins.
His body gave in. He plummeted, a singular figure thrashing as he collapsed shaking in a lifeless heap. Rose stepped back admiring her lethal handiwork. Mirranda's heart stopped as Samson was struck by a powerful wave of agony, screaming while his limbs spasmed and buckled in quick succession. His breathing became shallow and labored. Mirranda watched helplessly.
Her sister truly was lost. Rose had become a monster, led by abandonment, ambition, and jealousy. Mirranda's chest heaved with rage as her eyes zeroed in on Rose. She balled her fists and flew through the air, like a feral animal pouncing on its prey. Fury flowed from every pore as she howled in rage. Samson lay helplessly on the floor, unable to help Mirranda as she hurled herself at her.
"Guardsmen!" Rose commanded as Mirranda bashed with her eight Spiderling legs against her, baring her dripping, venomous fangs at her. Rose's response was a twisted smile. Guardsmen rushed the room and Mirranda felt the pull of many well muscled, well armoured men. Their eyes held no mercy, only cold determination."Let me GO!" Mirranda shrieked, yanking free from their grasp. "Samson!" She raced to his inert form, shimmering tears of anguish spilled down her cheeks as she saw the bloated face and unnaturally, blue-tinged skin of her beloved.
She touched his still-warm cheek and felt a spark of life. He was alive, but for how long? She had to act fast if she were to save him.
Rose cast a meaningful glance at the guardsmen stationed around them, making it clear who was in charge. She gave a penetrating gaze that burned into Mirranda, who violently wrestled away from her captors.
Mirranda collapsed next to Samson's trembling form, and She leered up at Rose, knowing that if she made a move, she'd be killed by the guardsmen. He needed Mirranda. Without her, Samson would have no chance of survival. SHE HAD TO STAY ALIVE!
"Rose," Mirranda said, her eyes glimmering with tears yet their gaze darkened with ire as she glared at her sibling. "Do you recall our youth? When we had escaped with the assistance of Longinus, and how I had protected you from that foul beast in the catacombs? Remember when we had returned home in the North. Remember when we remained up at all hours, finding joy in each other's company and laughing."
Oh she remembered. The memories ignited a burning fury within her, and Rose's heart began to pound like the drums of war. Her ire had twisted her perceptions, still Rose felt that her rage was justified and that her actions were honorable.
"Those childish stories mean nothing to me now," Rose snapped, her voice dripping with disdain. "I'm not laughing anymore. When you left, I was alone. No, rulership is the only thing that matters in this world. I intend to wield it as I see fit."
Mirranda's eyes pleaded with her as her hand reached Samson's chest, feeling his heart slowing. "The path you're on will only lead to pain and destruction, not for you, but for everyone around you."
For a moment, it seemed as though her words struck a chord with Rose. Her expression wavered, and Mirranda dared to hope that she might understand and see reason. Then the hardness returned to her eyes, and Rose's resolve solidified once more.
"I've had enough of you!" shouted Rose, her voice reverberating through the chamber. "I won't be swayed. Guardsmen, grab her and drag the dead elven boy out!"
As they moved to obey, Mirranda frantically declared, "No! I'll carry the dead elven boy!" Mirranda threw Rose's words back with contempt.
"You mean nothing to me now." Rose hissed and with that, eight appendages unfurled from Mirranda's back and tenderly encased Samson in her embrace. Mirranda then walked to the exit guided by guardsmen.
As Mirranda carried Samson and left down a long hall, it felt as if all the warmth had drained from him. The once vibrant, chivalrous young boy hung lifelessly in her grip, the flickering torches casting shadows that seemed to whisper death and heartbreak. Mirranda clutched him to her chest, feeling his breath slow even more.
"Samson," she choked out, tears coursing down her cheeks. "I cannot lose you. My friend, my love."
Samson weakly wrapped his arms up and around her neck, struggling to speak as he did so. He could feel the light dimming around him, threatening to blind his vision.
Yet, he could still see Mirranda. He swallowed, focusing on the girl he loved so fiercely.
"Mirranda, I'm still here," he whispered softly, trying to mask his impending doom with words of comfort. "I'm not going anywhere."
"She has chosen her path, and no matter how much we plead, she will not listen."
"Then we must make her see reason," Samson said, his tone resolute. "No matter what it takes."
She walked as the emotional turmoil within her churned like a storm-tossed sea. The conflicting desires - loyalty to Rose, the need to protect her from herself, and the knowledge that she had made her decision - warred within her, threatening to tear Mirranda apart."Samson," Mirranda finally whispered, her voice shaking, "tell me we can save her."
"I promise you, we will try everything," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss onto her forehead. "But we must be prepared for the possibility that we may not succeed."
Mirranda shuddered at the thought, but she knew he was right. They could only do so much; the ultimate decision rested with Rose herself."Let me be strong enough to face whatever comes our way," Mirranda murmured, a quiet prayer that seemed to echo through the shadowy corridors of Cardamon Castle.
As they turned to leave, they saw her. A sinister glint in Rose's eyes caught their attention. Her smile seemed more terrifying, her gaze colder than before, as if a dangerous secret lay hidden beneath her regal facade. The darkness within her grew, ever so subtly, like a creeping vine that ensnared its prey.
"Remember," Rose called after them, her voice carrying a chilling edge, "I have made my choice. Do not try to change it."
Samson clenched his fists, feeling the sting of Rose's words like a physical blow. He shared a worried glance with Mirranda, who bit her lip and nodded.
"Then we will move on," she whispered. Mirranda grieved for a moment then stiffened up, breathing the musty air of the castle, her eyes now dry.
"My beloved sister I once knew has become unrecognizable... a ruthless and cold monster. My dear sister is now dead to me."
She looked down at Samson, who nodded in support, his blue eyes fading.
"Rose," Mirranda began, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to steady it. "My sister is dead. Your actions have seen to that."
She stepped closer to Rose, Samson still secure in her Spiderling arms. "We came here to help you, and this is how you repay us? If your men weren't protecting you, I'd send you to meet Valaria and Abbadoth right now." She spoke with a cold finality in her voice.
Samson chimed in, his young voice carrying an underlying strength through his weakened breaths. "I forgive you."
Rose stared at them for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then the corners of her mouth twisted into a cruel smile. "How touching," she mocked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Although there is nothing to forgive, I think you've both done quite enough, meddling in my affairs."
The tension in the hall heightened as Rose walked closer to them, her movements graceful yet menacing. "You see," she continued, her voice low, "I've grown quite fond of this new life. The power, the attention... My friend Shadowman. it's intoxicating."
Mirranda sneered. "Then as I said, my sister truly is dead."Rose's patience clearly wore thin.
"Like you when you left! I've made my decision, just as you did. Now, leave me be."
"Very well," Mirranda choked out, fighting back tears. "We will leave." She took one last look at the sister with an ache in her heart, for the twisted creature that had taken her place was a far cry from the little girl she had known.
As they turned to depart, Mirranda clung to Samson, seeking comfort in his dying embrace. They walked away from the hallway, walked away from Rose. Their footsteps echoed in the otherwise silent castle, each step feeling like a dagger through Mirranda's heart.
They left the hall and out to the courtyard. The doors closed behind them with a heavy thud, sealing off any chance of reaching Rose ever again and leaving them to face an uncertain future.
****
Danice Malney coughed and desperately fanned the dry air. His fingers gripped the pike in his hands. "That was uncalled for"
"No," came a reply. "She made the mistake."
"My queen," Danice said. "Wouldn't it be prudent to stay humble in such circumstances?"
Rose's gaze turned steely. "Are you my advisor, now? You have the audacity to review my life choices? Don't you dare presume that you know what is best!" She spat out with contempt. "Don't think I can be commanded or even given suggestions by the likes of you!"
Danice gazed upon the young yet vile figure of his new queen. His chest constricted with a mix of emotions - frustration, anger, desperation. He was deeply sorrowful to see his home being destroyed by another ruler. In a flash, the Cardaman guardsman struck his spear on the floor.
In that moment, inspired by Samson and Mirranda, Danice stood his ground. "Guardsman! Rethink your decision!" Rose called. She banged her fists. He pierced a few guardsmen.
"I HAVE, YOUR HIGHNESS!" He shifted his gaze to meet hers, a sunbeam bouncing off his copper helmet.
Rising from her chair, Rose unfurled her arachnid limbs, ready for the kill. Danice squared his shoulders and met her gaze with a steady, honest look in his eyes. "I won't let you take my home without a fight," he said firm. He tossed his weapon forward, and the tip of his spear glanced past her cheek. The burning sensation that followed felt like searing glass slicing through her flesh. It reverberated as it stuck into the brick behind her, tearing at a hanging tapestry.
Rose jumped up and prowled the grandiose chambers of the palace boudoir ceiling, pacing back and forth like a restless spider under a clear glass. She wanted to unleash her fury on Danice Malney like a fiery orange storm. Before she could pounce, he darted from the grand hall. The royal guardsmen scrambled to capture him, yet despite their haste, he had proven to fast for them. Danice could hear the queen Spiderling's piercing cries as he sprinted away.Danice's copper helmet shifted as he took a deep breath before stepping out through the great doors, leaving behind all that he had known. He ventured into the Westerian forest with a humble yet stern resolve. Despite his fears, Danice was determined to forge ahead.
****
Another chorus of loud screams shook the scape. Valaria spun to face Abbadoth still bound by heavy chains to a large block of stone, an image of anger and power wrapped up in a little ball of fluff. They exchanged looks for what felt like an eternity, until finally Valaria sat on the scaffolding now converted into a chair next to Abbadoth and allowed the warm wind to ruffle her hair. Licking his paw leisurely as if nothing had changed following Valaria's surprising arrival, she looked up at him and waited.
"My Lord, I must go back--I have unfinished business!" She paused, desperate to make the Abbadoth understand what had happened. Abbadoth stopped in his grooming as he looked down at her. "Continue.""An elven boy had ripped me from my body and stopped the ritual before its completion. I implore you. Send me back!"
Abbadoth observed her for a few moments longer before proclaiming, "I'll send you back."
"You will?" She asked him.
"Of course, I want to get out just as much as you. Besides, if you complete the ritual, you can resurrect me back to Fonde SSique."
"My ambition is nothing short of ruling Fonde SSique, my Lord. Yet, I would see you and your herders at my side." Abbadoth gazed serenely, licking his paw again as fragmented memories flooded his mind.
Who was he in his past life? Abbadoth never knew. He remembered in small part. A merchant on a distant isle. 'Was it he who killed me?' he thought. There were three fair beauties and something about a Darkling. He had lived in Fonde for many years prior to this entrapment as a feline - though the light remained dim on who he was fully. If she brought him back, he could investigate his past. He recalled the sensation of being impaled, slashed. He felt the cold steel searing into his chest as if it had just happened moments ago.
"You could maybe finish what you started and have your revenge against that elven boy," he said at last. "Go. Bring me back to Fonde."
"Yes, my lord."
"Remember what you've promised here and now."
"I'm truly in your debt, my lord."
She rose to her feet. The air around them crackled as the flames grew brighter and more intense.
"Are you ready?"Valaria lifted her chin with a heightened air of assurance in her gaze.
"Yes," she declared firmly. "I'm ready."Abbadoth's smile stretched across his face as he looked upon the former elven temptress. His voice rumbled. "Good."
"I shall kill the boy and once I'm done, I shall bring you back."
"That would make my day."
Valaria beamed at Abbadoth. "My lord, I am ready," she declared once again. He lifted one of his dainty paws and recited arcane Cardamon words with a mew. A portal spiraled open, illuminating the dark under-realm in an eerie glow. "Go now," he announced. "Take your vengeance and go before others try to escape though the opening. Remember, bring me back!"
Valaria took a deep breath of relief as she stepped through the portal and back into Fonde SSique. She had done it; she had escaped from her Abbadothian prison. Even though she was free, a feeling of sickness lingered in her as she gazed up, unable to move...
****
Mirranda laid Samson in the sea of poppies, petals clinging to his lifeless body like a macabre shroud. She stroked his face while sobbing. The vibrant purple petals appeared a cruel mockery against his pale skin and once vibrant blue eyes now turned a dull milky white. Her hands shook as she recalled the tragic moment. Her attempts to stop her sister had been futile, and now, guilt crashed against her like an oncoming herd of angry reem.
Ahead, she spied Danice's silhouette against the dusk sky as he made its way toward the Westerian forest. Desperately, she tried to cry out his name, yet he already ventured beyond the sound of her voice. It seemed they were alone once again.
'If only I had been stronger, faster. If only I could have prevented Rose from sinking her fangs into him.' She thought. Sorrow clogged Mirranda's throat. Her heart felt like it had been ripped from her chest as the words left her lips, "Samson, I'm sorry." Her voice quivered with emotion and tears filled her eyes as she cradled him close. Yet, she knew self-pity would not save him.
Without wasting another second, Mirranda stood, still clutching Samson. Aunt Lisa's knowledge of herbal remedies and her father's teachings on the healing power of nature raced through her mind like a drove of raging, wild behemoth.
With each step, Samson's life seemed to slip from her grasp. Mirranda sprinted through the brush, into the Westerian forest. Her love for Samson motivated her onward, even though she felt the possibility of a cure might be too late. Holding onto hope seemed like foolishness to her; yet, with nothing else left to believe in, she continued. Mirranda refused to give up; she would find a cure - she had to.
"Stay with me, Samson," she said. "I'll fix this. I promise."
Mirranda's keen eyes darted between the foliage. Her legs brushed against leaves and stems, instinctively recognizing the healing properties hidden within. She placed him down on a pile of leaves and got to work. As Mirranda's fingers traced the edges of fronds and stems, her heart raced with emotion. She gathered herbs and berries, her thoughts whirling with the concoction she would create. She collected skeleton leaves to counteract the venom, bolstered by the soothing essence of orange Milblar berries. Time was running out, but Mirranda refused to let that deter her.
She fought to keep her breathing steady. Mirranda's face contorted with fear.
In the midst of her turmoil, her hands worked with practiced precision, expertly plucking whatever she needed. 'Am I doing enough?' she wondered, her thoughts racing in circles, threatening to drag her down to an Abbadothian despair. "Focus!" Mirranda scolded herself, clenching her fists around the plants she had gathered. " Samson needs me. You can't fail him."She glanced back at Samson, lying still among the leaves, his once vibrant-like light now reduced to a faint flicker. Her heart ached and Mirranda returned to her task, gathering the last of the necessary ingredients. As she blended them together, her hands moved with the speed of desperation."Please," she whispered, her voice barely audible midst the rustling of leaves. "Please let this work."
Mirranda stared at the pale, nearly lifeless form of Samson. The weight of her failure threatened to crush her, but she refused to give in. Mirranda, with trembling hands, mixed and crushed the skeleton leaves with the berries, her thoughts racing. She cradled the mixture along with crushed Milblar, steepling the mix into his open neck wound.
Samson's chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, each weaker than the last. Panic clawed at her insides. She couldn't afford to lose control now, not with Samson's life held in her hands.
"Stay with me," she pleaded as she held his hand, feeling his once-strong grip fall slack. "You have to fight, Samson as you always have."
Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she blinked them back angrily. There was no time for tears, not while Samson's life slipped through her fingers. Her fingers moved quick, despite the turmoil raging within her, grasping to hold him close. She allowed herself a glimmer of hope.
"Please," she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. "Please be enough." The forest was silent around her, as if holding its breath in anticipation. Mirranda stared down at Samson, her heart aching.
"Come back to me," she pleaded as she pulled him in, clung to his body, willing him to hold on a little longer.
"I need you."
"Mirranda," Samson murmured, his voice raspy. "I love you."
"I love you too," she replied, her voice filled with emotion. "Now and forever."
The night pressed in around them. Their hearts intertwined. Hope burnt like a fragile flame. Mirranda faced the darkness, staring down at her love as he closed his eyes...