It just so happened that the couch that Sofie had chosen to sleep on laid directly in line with one of the farmhouse's windows, causing the first rays of light to land directly on her face. Waking up to feeling like she was being half blinded was not exactly fun, nor was rolling off said couch onto the floor in an attempt to get out of the rays of light for that matter. It did do a decent job waking her up, however, something only aided as she became the unfortunate victim of more bad luck.
Reaching up to the table to pull herself up, her hand accidentally connected with her soup bowl from last night. Realizing too late what it was she was holding onto, she tried to use it to help her sit up only for said soup to fly out of the bowl and onto her hand and face. A piece of sliced sausage landed on her mouth, and as annoyed as she was she decided to eat it since it was already there. At the very least she got something delicious out of her misfortunes, as little as that accounted for.
Grabbing onto the table this time instead of the bowl, she sat up. She counted herself lucky that most of the broth from the soup had disappeared, though she would have to find a way to clean her arm up. Sitting back on the couch, she took some breathes in to relax herself. Last night came back quickly, thoughts immediately turning to what Cameron had told her about the Council of Peace and this world.
It turned out those words Maxwell had said had far more horrible roots in them than he had let on. The way he had made it sound, she thought she was supposed to destroy the past. It was far more than that. All technological development, all medical research, anything that showed advancement towards the future were gone. Two hundred years these people had stayed ignorant to the likelihood that they were now way behind the rest of the world. It reminded her of the stories her mother had told her of the Russia she grew up in.
She hadn’t felt any wish to be the Lord of Terror when she first came to Evra. Now, she felt a burning desire to take up that title that had been given to her. She doubted there was much she could do herself – her education as limited as it was and having no expertise in the area of medicine, technology, and the like – but she would figure something out. She refused to allow things to stay as they were; she refused to allow Evra to continue making the same mistakes that her people had.
The sound of a door opening behind her brought Sofie’s attention to Felice, holding a dress in her hands along with some other clothes. She smiled at the Ukrainian, placing them down on the arm of the couch. As she looked to the table, Sofie looked away in embarrassment. Felice giggled at the action, making her way to the kitchen to grab a hand towel.
“Sorry. Restless sleep,” Sofie told the women.
“It’s fine, just as long as you clean it up,” Felice replied, handing a hand towel to Sofie. The Ukrainian nodded, using the wooden bowl as a place to put any food chunks that had flown out as she wiped up her mess. “So, how has it been here in Evra so far?”
“It’s been… okay,” Sofie said, trying to put her thoughts into words. “Honestly I haven’t really had the time to truly enjoy being here. The last three days have been discovery after discovery.”
That wasn’t even putting into perspective everything that she doubtlessly didn’t know about. Most of all she was aware about was the general area, locations, level of technology, and stuff like that. She knew nothing about the overall culture or history outside of the Lord of Terror, but she knew enough from her mother’s lessons on history to know what not to do. Don’t do half the stuff that Russia did. Overall it was simple enough.
Though with the Council of Peace supposedly keeping the world from changing she wouldn’t have been surprised if some sort of secret police was involved in this all. She couldn’t be certain, and of course they wouldn’t reveal themselves. All she had to go off of was the history of her own world, which could have a wildly different history to Evra, and her mom's stories. That and Cameron, he probably knew a great deal that could help in avoiding making the exact same mistakes.
“That’s why I plan to head to Nentara,” She told Felice. “I want to see this world's culture in an environment I’m more familiar with. I’m not a farming girl,” She took a look at her right hand. “I do wonder if anyone here would allow me to work for them though.”
“I’m sure there are plenty out there willing to employ a kind soul like you,” Felice said, smiling at the girl as she picked up the soup bowls from the night before.
Sofie was sure the woman meant well, but she doubted kindness would get her a working position. The lack of fingers on her right hand would make it more difficult already, added onto the fact that she truly didn’t know if she was decent in any sort of field. This world looked as if a more factory type setting was not exactly available, and after doing that for as long as she had she didn’t want to return to such an environment. Anything she tried would be a learning experience, and she doubted she had the ability to take up a long term job when people started looking to kill her.
Still, she gave Felice a nod. Her host didn’t need to be the recipient of all the worry and fear that was going through her mind. No one needed to be, really, but she was smart enough to know that she couldn’t keep everything to herself. Though truth be told she still didn’t trust anyone enough with such things, even if they were supposedly destined allies like with Cameron. Not that she expected an American from so many years in the future would be able to understand everything going through her mind.
“Those clothes are for you by the way,” Felice said. She pointed towards the dress that she had put down earlier. “What you are wearing right now looks like it needs a bit of a wash.”
“Yeah,” Sofie said with a nod. One look at the dirt stains that dotted her overalls said everything about the state of her attire. Having something else to wear would be really nice. “Where should I get changed?”
“You can use my bedroom,” Felice told her. “Lucas is up and out of the house already so it's empty.”
Sofie nodded once again, grabbing the clothes that Felice had given her and made her way into the women's room. As soon as the door closed, Felice’s smile dropped, her heart going out to the girl. She didn’t dare tell the Ukrainian, but she had already figured out that Sofie was the Lord of Terror. Someone as young as her, who has seen so much death, being forced into a role such as that was cruel. Felice wished she could do something but she didn’t have the ability to deal with all the mental stress the girl no doubt went through before this.
She was barely holding together inside with Oscar as sick as he was.
The creaking of Oscar’s door brought her attention to the wyrmret that walked out of it. She nearly greeted Cameron good morning, but one look had told her that they had not woken up in a good mood. There was a rage hidden behind his eyes, one she got a better look at when they hopped onto the chair next to the sofa and eyed the door to her room. Gritted teeth showed themselves not long after, and he refused to look her in the eyes.
Her heart skipped, a fear rushing into her head as she realized what could possibly be the cause of this. Cameron did nothing as the mother got up and ran into her son's room, desperately wishing this draconic body had the ability to produce tears. The sudden stop of Felice’s feet against the ground hit like a javelin to the heart, the weak “no” that followed sending a second one into his stomach. No matter how much he wanted to tune the world out he couldn’t. He did his best to not claw into the chair’s cushion as he heard the woman break into tears, a feeling of guilt and regret bearing down on his soul.
“I’m sorry,” Maria apologized, her voice quiet and terrified. “There was nothing I could do. I’m really, really sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Cameron told her. “You did nothing wrong.”
He knew the words only did so much, especially for Maria, but it was the best he could do. He was asleep. Even if he wasn't, neither of them could do anything to save him. The only thing they could do was make sure this sickness didn’t spread further. He prayed that the other kids in Taevenburg around Oscar’s age did not meet the same fate, and asked that they hold out for a little longer. He may be no doctor, but if the world was kind enough a possible cure may be out there waiting for a moment such as this. The thinking was wishful, but he had to hold onto a hope of some kind.
The sound of a door opening led Cameron to look at Sofie, who had finished changing. In place of the overalls she had worn, a simple brown dress was now what fitted her body, the sheath belts of the dagger and sword she carried held in her hand. They were put on before him, Sofie’s eyes turning to the sound of crying that originated from Oscar’s room. They then turned to Cameron.
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“Did he…”
“We are taking care of this, now!” Cameron told her, his voice far more serious than it was last night. He hopped off the chair and headed towards the door. With a jump and turn of his paws, the door opened. “Get something to eat if you need. I’ll be outside the tavern I met you at yesterday.”
Before Sofie could say anything, Cameron had left the house. She hadn’t realized she had stretched her hand out to try and stop him until she brought it back to her side. With a few steps, she landed herself within a clear view of what was beyond Oscar’s door. There, she saw Felice cry by the side of her son's lifeless body. She waited for the sight to hurt her, but she felt nothing. She didn’t know if it was because she had no connection to the boy or if she had just grown numb to death.
Either way, even though she felt terrible, she felt no sadness at their death. Only emptiness.
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Cameron wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting in wait, the time away from the house allowing him a moment to calm himself. It still stung, it would be impossible for it not to after spending the past month with Oscar and their family. It wasn’t the first person he had seen die, and he was sure they wouldn’t be the last, but he was not numb to it like a soldier scarred from deployment. He was a college student, a boy with a love for games and buried in debt that someone else in his family would have to pay for now that he had died.
“Don’t think about it. There isn’t anything we can do to change our death.”
His sister, trying her best to be the voice of reason, kept him from breaking into a rage again. It barely kept him from it, the jagged edge of a dozen truths returned to cut apart his sanity. From the knowledge he should not have this body, to the horrid truth that their adoptive parents had to live with their deaths, Cameron hadn’t realized that his time with Oscar had allowed him to push it all to the side. Now he was forced to face it – forced to think about it – and no amount of words stopped the rushing wave.
The sound of footsteps brought his attention away from the dirt under his paws, having not noticed Sofie’s arrival till then. She sat on the edge of the deck directly behind the American and crossed her legs. She didn’t speak straight away, finding that sitting that way didn’t exactly work the best with the size of the dress. She hadn’t even noticed she was a bit taller than Felice until she had put the dress on. Not so tall where it was revealing but she noticed it was clearly a bit shorter than it should have been.
“You’re here a lot sooner than expected,” Cameron said, trying to act like his mind wasn’t a mess at that moment. “Skip breakfast?”
“I have a feeling it would have made you wait way too long. Felice wasn’t going to start on it anytime soon,” Sofie said. Her nonchalant manner nearly caused that fire in Cameron’s heart to ignite into a wildfire. “I’m sorry for the loss.”
Cameron had to remind himself that she didn’t know Oscar. She had no reason to want to help him, and he had to understand that. Glancing out of the corner of his eyes at the girl he wondered what her motivation was. Sofie never outwardly said why she was going to help him, only that she would. He shook that thought from his mind, reminding himself that he had no reason to know.
“Thanks, but it means nothing unless we take out the cause of this virus,” He said, voice unable to withhold the grief he felt.
“You’re certain it is man made?” Sofie asked him. Cameron gave a nod after a moment of hesitation. “Mind telling me your reason?”
“Truth be told, it is a bunch of little hunches I’ve gathered from the past month here,” Cameron explained, shifting so he was facing her. “First off, it feels too centered. The only ones who get sick are those who use water from the town well. It is also a virus that, according to everyone I’ve spoken to, has never made an appearance,”
He pointed with a paw off into the distance. Sofie followed it to a building far larger and than any other, two men standing at its front with spears in their hands. As Cameron continued his explanation, she turned back to him.
“That, however, is what is tying all my hunts together,” He said. “The building doubles as a storage of the town’s harvest and a place for the local militia to keep their equipment. I also believe it is directly associated with whoever is releasing this disease.”
Sofie, nearly immediately, understood why Felice had brought up the militia when Cameron had brought her to their house. It also explained Oswald’s conversation with him before she had interrupted them. Shifting around so she was better facing the individual to her right, Sofie spoke.
“You think the militia is involved in it then?”
“Maybe not all of them, and it is possible they don’t even know what they are doing,” Cameron replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “When I was in there I felt a bit of a chill coming from underneath the floor, as if it wasn’t entirely solid. Said draft seems to come from a bookcase that is supposedly for those currently on break from guard duty,” He shook his head. “Except, along with the technological stagnation I’ve told you about, education is also non-existent outside of the upper class. At least here in Ellio.”
“Sounds exactly like Russia,” Sofie muttered to herself. With everything she had heard, she was confident that Cameron had indeed found something, even if it wasn’t the virus itself. It was worth taking a look at the very least. “Okay, so what is our plan?”
“Tell them you are the Lord of Terror and walk straight through the front door.”
A silence hit as his plan was spoken. Sofie waited in hope that he was joking, but the more and more it carried on the more she realized it wasn’t. She covered her face with her hands, a familiar disappointment that she was starting to get used to in not even a day of knowing the American. His plan, his one and only plan, was to hope that they actually took the threat of her being the Lord of Terror seriously. She could already tell how it would probably go.
“Told you the plan was stupid,” Maria said, voicing the disappointment that Sofie didn’t speak.
“Look, it’s the best thing I can think of,” Cameron said, looking at Sofie so it looked like he was speaking to her. “If you have a better idea I would love to hear it.”
“I don’t but I really wish I did,” Sofie said, letting out a sigh afterwards. With a shake of her head, she stood up. “Just know that, if it doesn’t work, I’m not knocking them out.”
“Fair enough,” Cameron told her, standing up as he spoke. “What we do when we get under the floor is a mystery. Don’t exactly have the strength to lift it myself, so you are gonna have to help me with that.”
With a nod the two headed off, completely unaware that their entire conversation had been overheard. Elenise and Harper, who had been inside the tavern during the time, had walked out in the middle of their conversation and kept quiet. The couple looked at each other, Harper knowing exactly what Elenise wanted to say even if she didn’t use words. The sigh that came from his lips put a smile on his wife’s face, for she knew just as well what was about to be said to her.
“You are way too trusting of people, you know that hun?” He asked with a great amount of exasperation in his tone.
“I’m well aware, and I know it's part of why you love me,” She responded, a knowing smile on her face. “I approach people that you are too distrusting of. By doing so I show that they are not who you think they are. If I’m wrong you step in and make sure I’m fine.”
“There is far more to it than that you know,” Harper said, shaking his head yet grinning all the same. The two kissed, Harper knowing he was perhaps too at the mercy of the elf but didn’t care enough to dissuade her. “Just… please grab one of our blades, to be cautious.”
Elenise gave him a nod.
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Days earlier
The servant watched as her queen wrapped up her arm, something that she knew the queen would do for no one but her. Said arm wasn’t injured, but it would keep her from being tormented by nobility and the rest of the castle’s staff. The servant looked to her queen's right hand, wearing the same bandages that she was, both cursed with the same fate. She assumed it only made sense, given the very nature of their relationship, that both of them would be branded together. She wished that it was just her and not her queen that had to deal with this, for she was the only one who deserved whatever hell came.
“There,” The queen said, taking a step back to admire her job. “Hopefully the wrapping isn’t too tight.”
The servant moved her arm around a bit, clenching and unclenching her hand into a fist. She gave her queen a nod, smiling to feign that everything was okay. Her queen, in turn, sighed and sat down on the bed that was directly behind her. For the moment it was a crisis averted, but she knew just as much as the servant that this would only make things more complicated in the future. She could only keep it bandaged for so long, knowing that the moment she unwrapped the bandages that they had put on each other, word would quickly reach the ears of the Council of Peace.
“I’m scared, Radatsi,” The servant told her. Though her face was stoic, the two knew each other well enough for the queen to tell the subtle differences in expression.
“As am I Lucile, as am I,” Radatsi replied, clutching the blankets on the bed tightly. “Yet the Oracles have given us the means to combat this cruel unchanging world, so we must take it,” She stood up and walked towards the bedroom door, only turning back to give Lucile a reassuring smile. “I’ll have the guards alerted that the Lord of Terror has returned. Can you forge a missive for the Council of Peace?”
“I have no qualms with doing it, Radatsi,” Lucile told her. “Better me than you.”
Radatsi knew there was more behind those words than what Lucile outright said, but she wasn’t in a place to argue about it. No matter what the two thought of each other, it was true in the end that Lucile was more expendable than she was. Hopefully, with the Lord of Terror’s aid, they could turn this country away from such thoughts and ideals. After all, Radatsi had no wish or desire to rule.
All she wanted was the one she loved at her side, and a garden for them to call their own.