The morning sun cast a soft glow over Agneyastra's bedroom as she slowly emerged from her slumber. As she shifted in her bed, her eyes widened in shock as they caught sight of the crimson spots staining the pristine white sheets. A scream tore from her lips, reverberating through the room and filling the air with a sense of panic and fear.
In an instant, the bedroom door swung open, revealing Ramil standing in the doorway, his grip tightening on the hilt of a gleaming sword. His eyes scanned the room, searching for the source of the distress, his voice filled with concern as he questioned, “Agney, what happened?”
Following closely behind Ramil, Pyla entered the room, her face creased with worry. With a trembling voice, “Why did you scream?” she asked.
Agneyastra, barely able to contain her trembling, stammered in response, her words filled, “I do not wish to die, I am only 13.” As she points Pyla to her bed with stained with blood.
But Pyla, her motherly instinct kicking in, reassured Agneyastra with a gentle touch and soothing words. “You are well, Ramil go assist your father with making breakfast. Agney is okay.”
As Ramil reluctantly left the room, concern etching lines upon his face, Marudeva gently guided him away, assuring him that Agneyastra was indeed safe and that Pyla had everything under control.
Pyla moved closer to Agneyastra, wrapping her arms around her in a comforting embrace. Her voice, filled with warmth and understanding She explained, “every girl experiences the same, it is a natural part of growing up, something that every young girl must face. Go clean yourself off, while I take care of the bed.” Agneyastra, her mind awash with confusion, nodded and retreated to the bathroom.
As Agneyastra emerged from her bedroom, the soft morning light danced on her radiant skin, highlighting her joyous smile. She gracefully approached Pyla, enveloping her in a warm embrace. “Thank you,” she whispered, her gratitude shining in her eyes.
Pyla accompanied Agneyastra downstairs with a gentle stride. Her voice carried a comforting reassurance as she spoke, “No problem, my dear. If you ever have any other questions, you know I'm always here for you.”
In the dining room, a welcoming ambiance awaited them. Marudeva sat at the head of the table, exuding warmth, and kindness. Emathion, the wise and stoic figure, occupied his seat with a tranquil air. Sina, the vibrant soul, giggled and chatted animatedly. Ramil, the quiet observer.
The room filled with the tantalizing aroma of a delicious breakfast, plates laden with a colorful array of fruits, pastries, and steaming hot coffee. Agneyastra and Pyla sat down, joining the lively conversation as they savored each bite. With their hunger satisfied and their spirits high, Agneyastra, Ramil, and Emathion bid farewell to their parents, They embarked on their journey to training.
As they reached the training building, Rami, Emathion, and Agneyastra entered through its grand doors. Rami's gaze settled on Agneyastra, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and anticipation. “Don't hold back this year,” he told her, his voice filled with a quiet determination.
Agneyastra's response, spoken with unwavering resolve, was almost lost in the hustle and bustle of students moving about. “I will make you proud,” she vowed, feeling the weight of her own words settle upon her shoulders. However, her plea fell upon deaf ears as Ramil, occupied by his friends, didn't hear her or even acknowledge her presence before walking away.
Alone, Agneyastra made her way to her first class, accompanied only by Emathion, her solitary ally. She had become accustomed to this isolation over time, but it still stung. As she attempted to greet her fellow classmates, she was met with cold indifference. Their eyes avoided hers, their voices hushed in whispered conversations, leaving her feeling like an outsider.
With a heavy heart, she settled into the back of the classroom. Surrounded by the chatter of her peers, she diligently focused on her classwork. The isolation seemed to weigh upon every stroke of her pen as she tried to submerge herself in her studies. Yet, her sadness lingered, and she couldn't help but wonder why she was branded an outcast amongst her peers.
As Agneyastra stepped out of the classroom, a dark cloud seemed to hover over her. The weight of sadness was etched on her face as she walked aimlessly down the halls. Aurgelmir emerged from his husband's classroom and immediately noticed her disheartened expression. Determined to lift her spirits, he quickened his pace to catch up with her.
“Why are you so sad, Agneyastra? It's only the first day back,” Aurgelmir gently inquired, his voice filled with concern.
Agneyastra sighed, her voice laced with resignation. “It's okay, Aurgelmir. I should be used to being alone. Why are you here? Did Mr. Willow forget his lunch again?”
Aurgelmir shook his head, a glimmer of a smile playing on his lips. “No, I am teaching the hand-to-hand combat class this year.”
Agneyastra's eyes widened with interest and hope. “That sounds fantastic! I have that class this year.”
Aurgelmir's voice grew warmer as he continued, “Dean Jost was praising your exceptional skills and your top scores in the class. I was thinking, maybe you could be my assistant in some of my classes. I know it would mean more work for you, but I believe it would be beneficial for you.”
Agneyastra's face lit up like a thousand stars. The heaviness that had weighed her down moments ago lifted, and a genuine smile graced her features. “I would love that, Aurgelmir. It would be an honor. I can't wait to tell Ramil.”
Aurgelmir nodded, his eyes twinkling with pride. “I will inform Dean Jost about our arrangement. Make sure to let Pyla and Marudeva know as well. You can start tomorrow.”
Agneyastra's voice was filled with determination as she replied, “I will. Thank you, Aurgelmir. This means the world to me.”
In the hallway, Agneyastra's eyes caught sight of Ramil engaged in conversation with Sandra and his group of friends. Urgency coursed through her, compelling her to reach out and gently tug on Ramil's arm. “Ramil,” she uttered, her voice tinged with excitement. “I have good news.”
Before Agneyastra could fully register the weight of her words, Sandra interjects, “Like he cares.” she forcefully shoving her aside with a dismissive remark.
Ramil's attention shifted abruptly from Sandra to Agneyastra, “I have to go,” Ramil finally said, his voice strained and heavy with unspoken obligations. And with that, he turned away, Sandra and the rest of the group obediently trailing behind him like loyal shadows. Agneyastra stood there, watching as Ramil's figure diminished into the distance.
***
A few days had passed and Ramil found himself nestled against the wall in the training building. He shared a moment of camaraderie with his two male companions, their laughter ringing through the air. However, their jovial banter was interrupted when a girl, her hair adorned with a delicate ribbon, suddenly appeared before them.
The girl cleared her throat nervously before joining in their laughter, instantly captivating Ramil's attention. Startled, he found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her. He uttered her name, his voice laced with surprise and curiosity, “Ruby, what brings you here?”
Ruby's rosy cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red as she stammered, “I... I can't believe you remember my name.”
Ramil, still taken aback by her sudden presence, questioned her with genuine concern, “Is everything alright, Ruby?”
With a shy smile, Ruby retrieved a small canister from her pocket, adorned with a delicate bow. She held it out to Ramil, her voice barely above a whisper, “I couldn't attend your 16th birthday last month. This is for you.”
Thankfully accepting the unexpected gift, Ramil's gratitude was cut short when a familiar face appeared nearby. Sandra, filled with repressed animosity, strode over with an unmistakable purpose. Her hand swiftly slapped the canister from Ruby's grasp, sending it clattering to the floor. Stunned, Ramil protested, “Hey, that was meant for me, my birthday gift!”
Ramil's fingers curled around the handle of the canister as he shot a piercing glare at Sandra. The air crackled with tension as Sandra's voice cut through the silence, dripping with an undeniable skepticism, “It's not your birthday.”
In response, Ramil enveloped Ruby in a protective embrace, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. The weight of the gift in his hands felt significant, as if it held a secret waiting to be uncovered. His voice was low and full of anticipation as he suggested, “Let's go somewhere private, Ruby.”
The pair slipped away into an empty classroom, the door creaking softly as it shut behind them. Ramil carefully opened the canister, revealing a spread of delectable cookies nestled within. As his gaze shifted from the cookies to Ruby. He reached for one of the cookies, his fingers gingerly grasping its edges. His mouth watered in anticipation as he took a bite, savoring the rich flavor that burst upon his tongue. “They taste good,” Ramil admitted, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.
Caught off guard by a surge of emotions, Ruby could no longer resist the overwhelming urge. With an impulsive and daring move, she pulled Ramil closer, their lips colliding in a passionate and unexpected kiss. Ramil, momentarily stunned, placed the container of cookies on a nearby shelf. He yanked Ruby even closer, desperately seeking to capture every fleeting moment. His hand wandered, caressing her cheek, and trailing down her neck, before he abruptly stopped, realizing the gravity of their actions. With a sudden sense of urgency, he grabbed the remaining cookies and swiftly exited the room, leaving Ruby momentarily frozen in the intensity of the moment.
As he glanced back over his shoulder, uncertainty flickered in his eyes, a mixture of excitement and apprehension burning within his soul. Ruby stood, her heart pounding, caught in the whirlwind of their stolen encounter, her thoughts consumed by the taste of cookies and the lingering touch of Ramil's lips.
Ramil stepped into the hallway, his arm suddenly latched onto by Sandra. With an urgent tone in her voice, she exclaimed, “We are going to be late for hand-to-hand combat class.” Ramil glanced down the hall and caught sight of Ruby exiting the classroom, headed in the opposite direction.
A small grin tugged at the corners of Ramil's lips as he responded, “Okay, but does it require you jerking my arm out of socket?” He shared a playful moment with Sandra and their friend before they all entered the classroom together.
As they stepped inside, a vast space opened up before them. The classroom was large and spacious, with rows of desks neatly arranged on one side, hinting at intellectual exchanges and theoretical discussions. On the other side, a conspicuous mat stretched across the floor, ready and waiting for intense physical training.
At the front of the classroom, Aurgelmir stood near a desk, his figure tall and imposing. He exuded an intimidating aura, his presence demanding respect and obedience. Beside him, Agneyastra stood, engrossed in an open book, her eyes scanning the pages with a focused intensity.
Aurgelmir stood at the front of the classroom, his warm smile brightening the room. “Come in, children,” he beckoned, his voice filled with enthusiasm. His gaze landed on Agneyastra, who stood confidently by his side. “You may already know Agneyastra,” he continued, gesturing towards her. “Although she is normally in a lower grade than all of you, her skills are exceptional, and she will be assisting me in this class for the trimester.”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Ramil, seated at the back of the room, rolled his eyes dismissively, his gaze filled with contempt as he glared at Agneyastra. Sandra, sitting next to him, as she tugged on Ramil's arm. Her voice was filled with curiosity as she asked, “Did you know she would be in this class?”
Ramil pulled away, his expression clouded with resentment. “No,” he retorted bitterly. “She barely speaks to me now.”
Aurgelmir, sensing the growing unease in the class, stepped forward, his commanding presence bringing a sense of calm. He pointed towards the desks, his voice steady and reassuring. “Please, take a seat,” he directed, his eyes briefly meeting each student's gaze. “Agney will hand you all the instructions for the maneuver we will be practicing today.”
And with that, the students hesitantly took their seats as Agneyastra moved around the room, distributing the papers, Ramil's eyes remained fixed on his assignment, his gaze briefly glancing at the spectacle unfolding before him. Agneyastra gracefully distributed papers to her classmates, her every move capturing the attention of the room. Sandra, sitting beside Ramil, couldn't resist the temptation and leaned in, her voice barely a whisper.
“Does that mean I can challenge her in class?” Sandra's mischievous tone.
Ramil's brows furrowed as his eyes rose to meet Sandra's curious gaze. “You underestimate her, Sandra,” he cautioned, his voice tinged with concern. “She possesses an unrivaled power, something you cannot fathom.”
***
As the midday sun streamed through the thick canopy of leaves, Moriko found herself standing amidst a solemn scene in the heart of the forest. Her eyes took in the dismal sight of a once vibrant grove, where the trees, once majestic and full of life, now stood with their bark decaying and their branches drooping in despair. Determined to bring new life to this desolate place, Moriko took a gentle step forward, her hand outstretched towards the first tree.
With a tender touch, her fingers grazed the rough surface of the tree's bark. In an instant, a surge of magic flowed from within her, as if the very essence of nature responded to her call. The rotting wounds on the tree began to mend, the decaying bark transforming into vibrant green hues once again. The transformation rippled across the grove, as tree after tree regained its former splendor, the forest echoing with a chorus of rejuvenation.
Suddenly, Moriko's gaze shifted to the ground, a sense of curiosity tugging at her. The moment the last tree had been healed, the forest answered her heartfelt efforts by conjuring the Brucie beings once more. Known for their benevolence and loyalty, Brucies had always been her steadfast companions, offering their protection and guidance. But this time, a stark difference was immediately apparent. The newly created batch of Brucies, instead of exuding warmth and friendliness, seemed distant and aloof.
As the first Brucie emerged from the enchanted undergrowth, it moved past Moriko with indifference, its eyes devoid of the familiarity and fondness she had come to expect. Confused and taken aback, Moriko watched as the rest of the Brucies in the grove mirrored this detached behavior. Though they still possessed their strength and power, their connection with her had been severed, replaced by an air of animosity.
The forest had transformed more than just the trees; it had birthed a new breed of Brucie that showed no inclination to protect or befriend Moriko. They moved through the grove, casting sidelong glances, their interactions filled with tension and aggression. It was as if the forest's magical energies had tainted their essence, turning them into strangers within their own domain.
Moriko cautiously approached a group of Brucies, her steps cautious and her voice filled with warmth as she greeted them, “Good morning.”
However, the Brucies, with their fierce and suspicious glares, met her friendly gesture with disdain. One of the Brucies spoke, his voice filled with harshness, “What does the Princess require now?”
Moriko took a step back, sensing the hostility in their response. Her voice trembled slightly as she apologized, “Nothing, I am sorry to bother you.” With a heavy heart, she turned and hurried back towards her small cabin nestled amidst the tall trees.
The cabin's door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit and cluttered kitchen. Inside, Sir Bir Brucie, slammed cabinet doors closed with a forceful aggression. He aggressively prepared a small plate with a sandwich, his brows furrowed in annoyance. Moriko stood beside him, her gaze filled with confusion and concern. She cautiously asked, “Sir Brucie, did I do something wrong? I healed the forest, it's fully back to health.”
Sir Brucie, unable to hide his irritation, thrust the plate with the sandwich into Moriko's hands and directed her out of the kitchen with a light shove. His voice, laced with frustration, echoed in her ears, “Just eat your lunch and don't cause any more problems.”
Moriko found herself feeling dejected. As she took a seat at the humble wooden table, a heavy weight settled over her. The remnants of her lunch lay before her, but her appetite had vanished along with her sense of joy.
Suddenly, Sir Brucie swooped in with lightning speed, snatching the last morsel of food from Moriko's trembling hands. The act, albeit humorous on any other day, only served to deepen her distress. With tear-filled eyes, Moriko rose abruptly from her seat and fled into her small bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Desperate for comfort, she leapt onto her bed, burying her face in the softness of her pillow. It was then that Emathion's soothing voice whispered in her mind, piercing through the darkness of her despair. “Moriko, why are you crying?” Emathion's voice inquired, its ethereal tone cutting through the silence like a beam of sunlight.
Moriko, startled by the unexpected intrusion, lifted her head from her tear-soaked pillow. Her voice, filled with apology, quivered as she replied, “I am sorry to bother you as well.”
Emathion's voice, gentle and compassionate as ever, reassured her, “You never bother me, Moriko. In fact, our conversations are the moments I look forward to the most.”
A flicker of hope danced in Moriko's eyes as she sat up, her tear-stained cheeks glistening faintly. Timidly, she asked, “Do you really mean it?”
Emathion's voice, now seeming to come from a place just beside her, responded with sincerity, “Yes, Moriko. I truly mean it. Now, tell me, why are you crying?”
Moriko's heart twisted in her chest, the pain too raw to be revealed. “I don't want to talk about it,” she murmured, her voice choked with unshed tears.
Understanding her reticence, Emathion steered the conversation in a different direction. “Fine then,” he began softly, “how about we finally delve into the tales of your adventures? The ones we've been meaning to explore for so long.”
A spark of joy lit up Moriko's weary face. With newfound excitement, she reached for the backpack that hung from her bedpost, digging into its depths until her fingers found the cool surface of her cherished notebook. As Moriko gently pulled open the worn pages of her notebook. Nestled on her soft bed, it provided a comforting embrace as she embarked on this journey of dreams.
With a soft exhale, Moriko spoke, her voice a mere whisper in the quiet room. “This one place, oh Emathion, you wouldn't believe. It's a realm known as Davie, Florida, where the creatures there call themselves humans. They are peculiar beings, unlike anything I have ever encountered, yet their capacity for astonishment is unmatched.”
Emathion's voice, as if carried on a gentle breeze, resonated in Moriko's mind. “It sounds enchanting,” he murmured.
Turning the page with delicate fingers, Moriko's eyes were drawn to another realm, its beauty painted in shades of white. “In this realm, everything is cloaked in snow,” she explained, her voice tinged with awe. “And I possess the ability to travel through different lands within our own realm, discovering new wonders with each step.”
A faint note of caution laced Emathion's voice. His concern was palpable, as if he were standing beside her in the flesh. “Moriko, tread carefully. You wouldn't want to accidentally find yourself in the treacherous waters of the Water Kingdom. King Arroyo harbors a vengeful grudge against you.”
Moriko's gaze turned distant, her thoughts wandering and yearning for something more. “but, I wish...” she mused, the longing evident in her voice as she trailed off.
Emathion's voice, tinged with a hint of confusion, echoed in Moriko's mind. “What is it that you desire, Moriko?” he inquired, his tone filled with both curiosity and concern.
A melancholic smile played across her lips as she replied, her voice filled with vulnerability. “To have friends,” she admitted.
A flicker of hurt passed through Emathion's voice, his presence wavering momentarily. “Am I not your friend?” he asked, the hurt seeping through his words.
Moriko interrupts and says, “Emathion, let me enthrall you with tales of another mystical realm.”
A pang of regret resonated in Emathion's voice, the bond between them momentarily strained. “Moriko, I have to go,” he whispered sadly, his presence fading into silence. As Moriko sat alone in the stillness, as she continued to read her notebook.
***
The room was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, casting long shadows across the ancient tapestries that adorned the walls. Evain stood in the center of the room, her sword held firmly in her grip as she practiced her swift and precise strikes against the training dummy. A knock echoed through the room, breaking the rhythmic sound of steel against straw. Evain paused, her eyes narrowing as she slowly sheathed her sword. “You may enter,” she called out, her voice laced with a hint of curiosity.
As the door creaked open, Acropora stepped into the room, her footsteps barely making a sound on the polished wooden floor. She approached Evain, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, Acropora watched in awe as Evain continued her fluid movements, clapping with joy every time the blade struck true.
Caught in the midst of her practice, Evain turned to Acropora and extended the hilt of her sword toward her. “Do you want to try?” she asked, her voice tinged with a hint of challenge. “Or, take it to avenge your family?”
Acropora laughed, a sound that held both a touch of bitterness and genuine amusement. “No,” she replied with a shake of her head. “I may never be as skilled as you, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate the artistry in your movements.”
Curiosity sparked within Evain's blue eyes as she paused, studying Acropora. “You come here often,” she mused aloud. “To watch me practice. Why? I know you must hate me, for being the executioner of your family.”
Acropora rose from the bed, a quiet determination in her gaze. She stepped closer to Evain, the gentle caress of her finger tracing down the cool steel of the blade. “I know I should loathe you with every fiber of my being,” she confessed softly. “But hard as I try, I can't bring myself to hate you. There is something within you, Evain, something that calls to me.”
As Evain placed her sword on the dresser, her attention lost in the intensity of the moment, she failed to notice the open bedroom door. It was in this vulnerable moment that her older brother Devereaux, accompanied by a close friend, happened to pass by. They halted in their tracks, their eyes drawn to the scene unfolding within Evain's room, curiosity and concern etching their expressions.
Evain delicately brushes aside a stray strand of Acropora's flowing hair, strands that resemble the vibrant branches of the Acropora coral.
“I can see why my father spared your life,” Evain says, her voice filled with a mixture of admiration and curiosity. “Your beauty is beyond compare.”
Acropora, mesmerized by Evain's ethereal presence, leans closer, her eyes reflecting vulnerability. “I wish I could be as flawless as you,” she whispers.
Evain and Acropora succumb to the magnetic pull between them. Their lips meet in a tender, stolen kiss, a simple exchange of emotions made tangible. But just beyond the threshold of the open bedroom door, Deveraux and his friend stand as silent witnesses to this encounter. Their wide eyes betray their astonishment, and in an instant, they retreated.
As Evain stood locked in a passionate embrace with Acropora, the world around them seemed to fade into a blur, their lips melding together with an intensity that defied the laws of time. But just as their embrace reached its zenith, the tranquility of their stolen moment was shattered by the thunderous footsteps echoing down the hall.
Deveraux stormed into the room, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and determination. He was accompanied by the formidable presence of his mother, the Queen, and a contingent of loyal soldiers, their armor gleaming in the dimly lit corridor.
The Queen's voice pierced the air, cutting through the tension like a sword. “Evain!” she bellowed, her words snapping the lovers back to the harsh reality they had momentarily disregarded.
Caught off guard, Evain released Acropora abruptly, she stepped forward, positioning herself protectively in front of her beloved, a defiant gleam in her eyes. The weight of her mother's disapproval washed over her, threatening to drown her spirit.
Undeterred, the Queen approached Evain, her voice laden with a mix of disappointment and desperation. “Evain, my dear, remember your duty as the princess of our realm. Our reputation is at stake. How will we ever find a suitable match for you if this scandalous rumor spreads throughout the Water Kingdom?”
But Evain, with unwavering determination, she met her mother's gaze, her voice filled with an undying devotion. “I care not for the constraints of societal expectations, nor the pursuit of a marriage built upon falsehoods. My heart beats for not the glittering crowns or gallant suitors, but for me to decide.
The Queen's voice echoed through the room, cold and unyielding. “This is not the Fire Kingdom,” she declared, her disdain dripping from every word. “We are not that open-minded here. Soldiers, we must limit exposure.”
Evain desperately tried to break free from the grasp of the Water Kingdom soldiers that held her back. Her eyes widened in horror as the Queen's hand closed around Acropora's arm, forcefully shoving her towards the soldiers. Panic welled up within Evain, her voice filled with desperation as she pleaded with her mother.
“Mother, please don't do this!” she cried. “It was only this one time. Don't harm Acropora. It was my fault!”
But the Queen's heart remained hardened, unmoved by her daughter's pleas. She raised a hand, a silent signal to her soldiers. Without hesitation, they drew their blades, the steel glinting ominously in the dimly lit room. In one swift motion, they plunged their weapons into Acropora's chest. Time seemed to freeze in that moment.
As Evain's anger reached a boiling point. In a sudden blur of motion, she stood and unleashed her fury upon the room. With great force, a tidal wave surged forth from the depths of the ocean, crashing through the very walls that separated realms. The room was instantly transformed into a watery chaos, as if the angry sea gods had descended upon them.
As the deluge continued its ferocious assault, Devereux, the Queen, and the Water Kingdom soldiers were all swept away in its relentless current. Their cries echoed through the tumultuous waters, swallowed by the overpowering sounds of crashing waves and swirling eddies.
Just as quickly as it had begun, the watery onslaught ceased. The door to the room shut with a resounding thud, sealing off any trace of the outside world. The displaced waters receded through the window, leaving behind a suffocating stillness.
Evain found herself clutching Acropora's lifeless body. Evain's voice trembled as she cried out, “I am sorry.” as tears streamed down her face.