“I’m getting frustrated with you lot tonight,” stated the woman wearing an orange cloak with black and white decals and a black mask with white eyes. Her voice was deep and sultry. "Eleven Chimes; nothing accomplished.”

Monarch had her hand on a kneeling buff male Chime's shoulder. His body, save for his head, was consumed with Eoa cracks.

“The Bell will smite you, witch. Aaagh.”

“Who's the Chime who can control Soot?” The irritated woman asked.

“I don’t know what you’re on about. Soot can’t be controlled. They’re soulless splotches on Ruth.”

“Fine. Who’s the Chime who killed the Dowser called Three a decade ago?”

“Nobody knows. I wouldn't—”

The Chime erupted butterflies. It was hundreds of times more than Vora used to be able to control. They fluttered around and reentered her body as she exited the tiny church, wiping brass off her mask. She was greeted by three Chimes waiting to ambush with divinity and brass weapons.

“It ends now, witch. You’ve terrorized O’Landra for too long.”

“Who is the Chime that can control Soot?” Vora asked, causally dodging swords, spears, and fire blasts. “You know I would stop if you tell me.”

“Smite her!”

“Apologies. It’s passed my bedtime.” Vora turned away from her opponents and waved dismissively. "Goodbye, forever."

Yellow crystal pupae flowed from Vora's fingers, flawlessly soared into the Chimes' foreheads, and detonated into a windfall of caterpillars.

Vora ran up a wall and flipped to the roof. She moved so smoothly that she nearly glided back home, ending up in her house's alleyway. Vora banged her toe on her most hated trashcan. Despite the years, she could never defeat it.

***

Vora awoke to a rap at her door. She sat up, hair chaotic and bags under her eyes. "What?" she slurred. “I found the way through the temple. Cranberries."

“Someone’s at the door for you,” Madeline explained. “You wouldn’t keep them waiting if you woke up earlier,” she sang.

Once her mother’s footsteps dissipated, Vora mumbled, “It’s Saturday. And I’m a legal adult now; I should get to sleep in.”

The seventeen-year-old Vora threw herself into slippers. She yawned into the mirror with her full, shiny lips. Her brown eyes were now sharp, her hair was down to her back and thick, her bosom was ample and round, and her body was curved like dunes.

Vora checked her white teeth, smacked her lips, and proceeded to dress. She subconsciously went out of her way to wear clothing that exposed her cleavage. She put on her favorite purple dress—fitted through the years—and proceeded downstairs.

When she passed by the living room, Madeline chuckled. “Where are you going with that bird's nest of hair?"

“Nowhere. Just the door, then back to bed.”

Behind the door was Klev. He was tall, built, and had sparkling blonde hair. Puberty had hit the ugly boy in the face with a frying pan and left a handsome, defined mug. His eyes hadn’t changed since childhood: innocent and sapphire blue. He was wearing a nice black jacket and his family-descended hat.

Vora went from surprised to joyful to horrified, all in six seconds. “Klev!” She quickly fixed her hair and blushed. “What are you doing here? At my place?”

“You asked me to come here.” Klev was puzzled. “Is it the wrong day? Could have sworn you wanted to go to the market.”

“Naturally. It’s the correct day. I just need some time to…. Just some time.” Vora slammed the door, hurried to the upstairs bathroom, washed and brushed her hair ferociously, and returned downstairs.

While holding a mystery sock she found under the bookshelf, Madeline watched her daughter run past. “Hairclip?" she said simply. Vora turned around and went back upstairs.

When she was finished, she opened the front door to a Klev who picked at some gunk on their railings.

“Ready,” Vora smiled proudly.

***

Vora and Klev sat next to each other in the empty trolly. The sun's heat shot through the dirty windows onto their exposed flesh. Vora spoke of her progress on normality.

“I think I’ve nearly reached it. I can seal away my curse and be rid of this all. There's a few things I need to do before I lock it away."

“Like what? I thought you wanted to abandon the Monarch ASAP.”

“Just a few things. Important things.” Important things that you would be against. I'll just tell you after it all.

“You’re going to do something crazy, aren’t you?”

"I swear on my heart, I won't." After a suspicious stare, she restated. “I won’t do anything super crazy.”

Klev sighed and hung his head. "Ruth became stranger after the Dowser Bishop scuffle in the city square. More people question the Burning Bell. Even my father has been odd around Chimes. The Dowsers have been quiet for years. I wonder what they plan to do.”

Wish I could tell you my father is the leader, but I cannot. Entirely unfair. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Klev Bekkan. I’ve chosen to focus on anything but. It’s out of our control…”

“Y-Yeah. Absolutely. Have you figured out what that noise was in the attic?”

“A rat.” Vora pushed her face closer. “It was awful. Gave me the most foul of creeps. Even Father was scared. Mother smashed it with her foot like a psychopath, then returned to her wire conversation like nothing had happened.”

Klev laughed. “Soot are far more horrifying than rats.”

"Soot don't have fur and bald tails. Trust me"

***

Sansila was the city run by Bearer Phanuel. It was a city of paperwork, files, permissions, and references. A city of nightmares. A woman approached the tunnel exiting the walled city. The woman had orange hair, empty gray eyes, and expressionless lips. The right side of her face was youthful and cute, while the left side was splattered with burns.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

A group of Chimes stopped her. "Pass. I said: pass. Are you deaf?"

“I do not require a pass,” the woman replied.

“Without a pass, you don’t leave. Who are you? Where are your papers? What's your name?"

“I don’t have a name…”

The ivory-skinned beings exchanged looks. "Alright. I'm holding you here until we get a Kindler over."

"I'm leaving now." The woman proceeded ahead.

“What’s that then? Are you mad?"

She reached another Chime who recognized her face. "She's the maskless Dowser! One! Get the Bearer."

One was a scientist who studied Fallite in the past. Because of this, the church burned her husband and three children alive while she watched. Before she was the next victim, Dowsers saved her. After that, she no longer claimed a name, only identifying as her given number. A Dowser mask was unnecessary.

"Don't bother...." One hummed.

None of the Chimes could move an inch. Something was cutting their skin: wires. The wires covered them, the wall, the ground, everything.

One had her gloved hands raised. The wires culminated from her slick gloves with spinning gears and Fallite-laced parts. A blue glow came from her gloves and spread across the wires like lightning, creating a massive blue web.

"Zero and Five shouldn't find out," she said dryly before making fists. "I don't want to be scolded again."

Everything the wires touched and wrapped was sliced like butter and turned into chunks. Walls, floors, and even a few trees joined the fate of the Chimes within half a mile.

***

Vora and Klev joined the bustling outdoor market. There were stands everywhere selling assorted vegetables, fruits, meats, and trinkets. Vora wanted to peruse the handmade jewelry.

“It’s like a whole different world,” Klev awed, examining hung quilts for sale. "I should take some notes."

“Are you still planning on making a store of your own? How can you not be sick of it all?” Vora brought a bitty anchor into the sunlight. "Is this an anchor?" After the old lady nodded, Vora was reminded of the ocean she wanted to see. “It would be neat to see a large ship.”

"Not terribly sick. It's something I'm very good at."

“How about football? You’re good at that.”

“Luis puts me to shame. Have you seen him play recently? I’ve already made a deal with my father. I’ll be running a sister shop to Local Love. Even though it’s a sister shop, it's my shop to do as I please. Dad isn't worried about me paying him off.”

“Your father is an incredible man.”

“What have you decided on?” Klev waved nervously at a group of middle-aged women eyeing him.

“College isn’t for me. But I don’t want to work in a flower shop any longer than I have to. Opportunities are attracted to me naturally, so I’ll wait on that.”

“If you’re still stumped, you could join me in White Hill. Well. I mean. You know. You could find a job there or something. I bet there are great opportunities for you.” Klev chuckled awkwardly.

“I’ll consider it, Klev Bekkan,” Vora laughed. “Look who it is.”

Just below the Krow Family Farm sign was Darcie roughly brushing off carrots. Her flesh was tanned and toned. Darcie's chest was no longer bigger than Vora's, but she was still taller.

“How’s the produce selling?” Vora asked.

“Pretty hot. Been busy all day. My brother’s going to take over in an hour. What have you two been doing? Are you on a date?”

“No, not at all,” Vora said quickly, with Klev nodding in agreement.

“Bah. Why don’t you two just make it official? You’re pretty much datin’ anyways. You give me as much anxiety as when I'm shoeing a horse."

"For reasons that don't involve you in my relationships. I never stick my nose between you and Maive.”

Vora ruled that she'd only date Klev when he showed confidence. Given his timidness, he has failed numerous times to do so. But Vora had to admit that he'd gotten braver overall, which was admirable.

Darcie glared at Vora, then smiled and said, “Fair enough. You need anything? Carrots have been blah this year. Potatoes are good. Especially for that recipe my mum gave yours.”

“I’ll get a bit of everything,” Vora said after a bit. “Klev can carry it.”

“Of course. Say, what are those rectangles back there?”

“They’re….They’re my paintings,” Darcie replied quietly. “Mum told me to bring ‘em and sell ‘em.”

“I’d like to see,” Klev said expectantly. Darcie handed him a landscape painting: a meadow of varied flowers surrounding a stone. “Amazing. Well, how much?”

"I hadn't gotten to prices yet. More working on having people look at them. I don't know. Ten ruthal, I reckon.”

"Bought. I’ll take this all the way to White Hill,” Klev said proudly.

Darcie got a jolt of pride. “Yer a sweet man, Klev Bekkan.”

***

The sun set as they walked the sidewalk in Vora’s neighborhood. Klev had a sack of veggies over his shoulder, and Vora had a jewelry bag in her hands. Some of the jewelry was for Maive, who was too busy to join her for the market.

"So, why are you doing it?" Klev suddenly asked.

“You’ll need to be more specific, dear,” Vora answered.

“Why are you looking for the Chime who killed my mom?”

Vora stopped as if the wind was knocked out of her. “Does it matter? It’s a dangerous Chime that could disrupt my life.” With my father being the leader, I need to stop this Chime. “If it’s what you presume, I’m doing it for my friend.”

“Vora. Why do you continue to hurt yourself?” Klev put a hand on his chest. “I hate seeing it, and I feel like you're hurting yourself for my sake. You said you could shut your powers away right now. Just, please, just step away.”

Vora gave Klev a glance, then continued to walk ahead. “I’m fine. Everything is working out as planned.”

“I figured you wouldn’t listen to me. Promise after this, though, it's over.”

“I promise.”

Klev placed the sack down and grabbed Vora by the shoulders. “Promise me.”

“I promise, Klev Bekkan.”

After a moment, Klev seemed satisfied. He pulled a notepad out of his pocket and handed it to the violet woman. Vora opened it to find notes of all kinds: Chimes, Kindlers, Bearers, and Soot. Seemed Klev had been researching for years.

"The Soot I saw that day is called Behemoth. And he’s the most dangerous and powerful Soot ever to crawl out of—wherever they're from.”

"Impressive work. Thank you."

Just outside Vora's house, when they stopped to say goodbye, Vora sensed a new air off Klev.

“What are you doing next weekend?” Klev asked, removing his hat and holding it to his chest.

“Astonishingly, nothing," Vora pondered.

“The carnival is next week. And I was wondering—no, I’m asking you to accompany me. Together. As a couple." Klev's was unflinching. “I want you to be my girlfriend.”

Vora’s heart nearly ruptured, and her head was an active volcano about to erupt. "Klev Bekkan... Naturally. I’ll wire you later then for details.” As she entered her house, she added proudly, “You kept me waiting.”

After the door closed, Klev jumped happily and said, "I know I did.”

***

It was a few days after the funeral. Klev sat on a bench outside the post office where his father received papers his mother had stored in a private post office box. The air was warm, but he was cold. The sun was bright, but his eyes were shadowy.

Suddenly, there was a slight bump on the bench. Someone sat beside Klev, but he didn't look up to see who. More bumps rhythmically shook his body, and he glared over after being greatly removed from his brooding.

The bench invader was a girl with violet hair around his age. She had a scent of both arrogance and sweetness around her. She was kicking her feet, not a care in the world. She looked over at him, and Klev shied away.

“Sorry,” Klev whispered.

“Sorry? For what? Staring? I'd be insulted if you didn't.”

“Oh…”

“What’s the matter, you sad about something?”

“No…”

The girl inched closer, scooting her butt. Then closer. Then closer. Klev’s skin tingled more the closer she got. Then she was right next to him, nearly touching.

“You shouldn’t be sad with such prettiness beside you,” the girl boasted. “If you’re hurting, just smile instead.”

“What did you say?”

“I’m saying smile if you’re hurting. It’s what I do…”

“Just… Smile…”

The girl gasped. “You’re that blonde boy from the store.”

“Klev Bekkan.” Klev straightened and gained some light.

“Naturally. I’m Vora Snihde. Now, how do I cheer you up?”

“I-I don’t–”

“I wasn’t asking you. Clearly, you don't know the answer; otherwise, you wouldn't be sad. I got it!” Vora had a box of muffins on her lap. She opened the top and took the blueberry one. “Open wide.” Before getting any reply, she shoved it in his mouth. He nearly choked, and his eyes watered. “Good, right? My mother is good with pies and such, but my father used to work at a bakery when he was a kid.”

"It's good," Klev replied, wiping a tear. “Thank you. But now I have to repay you. I-I don't have any money.”

“Repay me?” Vora laughed, then plopped the box into his lap. “I need nothing from you,” she replied with natural poshness.

A blonde man with a beard and a dapper hat exited the post office, and Vora ran to his side. “Ready, darling? Where are the muffins?”

“I gave it to the sad boy,” Vora pointed.

The blonde man peered past his daughter at Klev, then tipped his hat an inch. "You can have them. And my condolences. Come along.”

"Farewell," Vora said, walking backward.

“Yeah,” Klev replied when they were distant. “Farewell, Vora Snihde.”