Alice peered out of the small, barred window of her dimly lit cell, her gaze fixed on the swirling clouds in the sky above. The distant caws of birds echoed through the courtyard, a stark contrast to the heavy silence that enveloped her confinement. Suddenly, a sharp noise pierced the air as someone opened the gate to the prison, causing her to jump in surprise.
“I brought you some food,” Gisèle smiled warmly. “There’s some cake for dessert, too.”
Gisèle Chaudron talked to her with fondness. Yet, the short woman was someone she had come to both fear and resent.
This time, however, Alice was prepared. With a deft hand, she triggered the trap she had set using the lightberries she found in the pocket of the skirt she had been wearing before being kidnapped. The berries exploded in a burst of light and heat, catching Gisèle off guard as she was opening the cell. The fabric of her dress caught fire, sending her into a frenzy of panicked swatting as Alice seized her chance to escape.
Heart pounding in her chest, Alice raced through the labyrinthine corridors of the castle, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The unfamiliar surroundings blurred past her as she navigated the twists and turns of the ancient stone walls. Finally, with adrenaline-fueled determination, she ducked into a shadowy alcove, her back pressed against the cold, rough-hewn stone.
"I'm lost," she muttered to herself, her voice barely above a whisper, each word punctuated by the sound of her heavy breathing.
The distant echo of footsteps reverberated through the vaulted passageway, sending a shiver down Alice's spine. "Fune!" a voice said, the urgency in the voice setting off warning bells in her mind. A sudden, overwhelming pressure gripped her insides as if unseen hands were pulling her. With a gasp, she stumbled to her knees.
Dragged by an invisible force, Alice was propelled down the corridor, her movements no longer her own. The pull led her to a grand chamber bathed in the warm glow of a crackling bonfire. There, standing amidst the flickering shadows, was a woman with a commanding presence and a gaze that seemed to pierce through Alice's very soul.
"My dear! I must say, I underestimated you. Quite the daring escape," the woman spoke, her voice a melodic cadence that sent a chill down Alice's spine. The flicker of the firelight danced in her bi-colored eyes, adding an otherworldly gleam to her gaze. With a flourish, she closed a hand fan, the sound cutting through the tense silence like a blade.
"It was risky, Alice. Gisèle is paying the price for your actions," the woman continued her tone a mix of admonition and grudging respect. "Her arm bears the burns from your escape, and who knows when she will wake up after hitting her head on the rock floor."
Confusion and fear swirled in Alice's mind as she struggled to make sense of the situation. "Who are you, and why am I here?" she demanded, her voice tinged with defiance.
"I am Naamaah," the woman replied, a cryptic smile playing on her red lips. "We have crossed paths before, though you may not remember."
"Let me go!" she pleaded, her eyes darting around the room. It was then that she noticed the other figures present – Maaya, a somber presence at Naamaah's side, and two young girls whose eyes looked at her with shame.
One of the girls, an orange-haired one, took a bold step toward Alice, her small hand raised in a swift, determined motion that ended in a sharp slap across Alice's cheek. Naamaah, her gaze piercing and commanding, swiftly intervened, catching the girl's hand before she could strike again.
"You must not hit our guests. It's rude," Naamaah's voice held a note of authority as she reprimanded the young girl, who nodded in understanding, her fiery hair framing her face like a halo of flames.
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Alice's eyes blazed with defiance as she glared at Naamaah. "Release me. You have no right to hold me hostage. I'll punch you in the face if I have to."
Naamaah's brow furrowed in disapproval at Alice's threat. "Such insolence," she muttered under her breath.
"I'll kill you!" Alice's words dripped with malice; her body still weak from the effects of the spell that had constricted her.
"Shut up," the orange-haired girl interrupted.
Naamaah, her patience wearing thin, raised her voice to a commanding pitch. "Enough, both of you! Enough! Let's settle this. I will release you only if you can defeat me in combat. What do you say?"
"You'll regret challenging me. I won't lose to you," Alice spat out, her rage clouding her mind.
With a flick of her wrist, Naamaah cast a spell that lifted Alice into the air, carrying her through the hole in the ceiling that let the smoke out. The acrid taste of smoke filled Alice's mouth, causing her to cough and sputter as she struggled against the magical force that held her aloft.
Emerging onto the rooftop, Alice steadied herself, her eyes locking onto Naamaah's form as the enigmatic woman materialized before her. Without hesitation, Alice lunged forward, her fists a blur of motion as she unleashed a flurry of punches aimed at her opponent.
Naamaah moved with fluid grace, dodging each strike with effortless precision. Alice's frustration grew, manifesting in a series of high kicks that were deftly avoided by Naamaah's nimble footwork.
In a fit of rage, Alice summoned a white hole, a disruptive force in the fabric of space, behind Naamaah. "Did Völundr teach you such spells?" Naamaah taunted.
Naamaah's lips curved into a sly smile. "You are indeed a prodigy," she remarked, her eyes gleaming with a mix of admiration and challenge. “That’s some very advanced Light and Darkness thaumaturgy.”
"Tempus fugit," Alice muttered, her hands glowing with a reddish light as a black hole materialized beside her, swallowing the red energy with a hungry intensity.
"No, no!" Naamaah's voice held a note of warning as she watched the unfolding display of advanced thaumaturgy. With a swift gesture, a cuckoo clock emerged from the ground behind Alice.
Nevertheless, the clock crumbled to dust at Naamaah's touch, the remnants swirling into nothingness. The white hole reappeared behind Alice, unleashing a burst of red light that struck her in the pelvis, burning through her shirt with a searing intensity.
Alice's body convulsed in pain, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she staggered, the scent of burnt fabric mingling with the metallic tang of blood in the air. The rooftop trembled beneath her feet, the ominous rumble of thunder echoing in the distance as storm clouds gathered overhead.
Naamaah's eyes bore into Alice's, a mix of curiosity and calculation dancing in their depths. Alice crumpled to her knees; her body wracked with sobs that seemed to echo.
“Glacialis,” Naamaah raised her hand, casting a spell that summoned a rushing torrent of icy water that cascaded over Alice's trembling form.
The frigid water washed over Alice, revealing the raw, burned flesh on her bare back. “Sana!” Naamaah's next incantation filled the water with a verdant color, and as it enveloped Alice, a healing warmth spread through her, soothing the burns and leaving her skin renewed, albeit reddened, sensitive, and tender to the touch.
The rain began to fall in a relentless downpour, each droplet a drumbeat against the rooftop. Naamaah transformed her delicate hand fan into a makeshift umbrella, shielding them both from the deluge.
Alice's cries pierced the air, not from the physical pain, but from the crushing weight of failure that pressed down on her like a leaden cloak.
"I am a fool," Alice's voice was a whisper, filled with self-recrimination. "Outwitted without lifting a finger, turning my own spells against me." Tears streamed down her cheeks, mingling with the rain that drenched her hair and clothes.
Naamaah's voice cut through the sound of the rain, sharp and unforgiving. "Do you understand what Gisèle felt when you attacked her? This is but a taste of the pain you caused." Her words held a weight of disappointment, a stern reminder of the consequences of Alice's actions.
With a heavy sigh, Naamaah gestured to her companions. "Maaya, Castaña, Kannika, take her away. I cannot bear to listen to her lament any longer."
The three girls approached Alice. They led her to a secluded bathroom, where they helped her bathe away the grime and dirt of battle, the warm water was a soothing balm to her weary body. Maaya offered her fresh clothes; a white sundress she could also use as pajamas.
Alice was then guided to a bedroom. The door closed with a definitive click, sealing her in solitude.
The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a lone candle casting flickering shadows on the walls. The sound of rain continued outside a steady rhythm that matched the cadence of Alice's breathing as she sought solace in the darkness. Alone in the quiet room, Alice curled into herself on the bed, her tears flowing.