> This is not a prologue; this is a story from one of the characters’ point of view and a journey of his that wants to (will eventually) merge with the main character’s journey.
>
> Therefore, you may skip to the prologue and come back anytime!
>
> Cheers!
The year 1305 of the Neander Calendar.
25 November.
Terranius had always loved stories to the point where he would put his soul into one.
As a folklore nerd, Terranius felt like a Miradian child born in spring (said to be blessed with innate luck) for getting the luck and opportunity to realize his dream as one character from a—possibly and soon to be—legendary story.
Well, nothing is improbable, Terranius believed.
The idea of realizing his dream came up a few days ago after he, by rather a deliberate coincidence, overheard interesting news from Harshavardhan about a meeting of the Avatars in the Pelagus.
Even for him, a nerdy Miradian, the word Avatar was still unfamiliar to hear. It was all thanks to Harshavardhan—who loved collecting old, forgotten books—Terranius got a chance to learn about them.
After days of excitement and impatience, the meeting day had finally arrived. Terranius’ heart leaped for joy and excitement since the sun emerged from the horizon. He even had breakfast, lunch, and snack time in the little hideout near the entrance while eagerly waiting for the sun to set and to see all the avatars arrive at Gonora.
"Are you sure the meeting will begin after sunset?" his friend Gormar had asked. "What if it's just a usual meeting between the High Kings and Queens of Mirad?"
Terranius sighed and handed the last grilled lamb skewer as though telling him to stop complaining. "Harshavardhan would never tell lies regarding the high ruler of Mirad and such, well—even though sometimes he tells us his stock of Yaksik is empty while he has a full barrel of them," he replied, steam escaping his mouth with every word he said.
"But why are we still at the entrance of Gonora when all the High Rulers of Mirad have arrived? It's getting colder here, Terra!"
Terranius motioned Gormar to lower his voice; a short index finger raised to hush him. "From the book I read about all the seven Avatars, the Queen of Darkness loved Gonora very much in ancient times."
"So… you think she would arrive through the main entrance like the other High rulers of Mirad—with troops and perhaps a small parade?"
In response, Terranius nodded convincingly, his eyes glistening in excitement. Gormar just stared at him in response, and slowly chewed the cold skewer in both confusion and astonishment. When was the last time he saw Terranius, his only best friend, get excited about something outside junk and books? Gormar, as always, was left in wonder, but he never wanted to ask or ruin Terranius’ excitement.
But the most important thing about this operation was: Who wouldn't be excited to see the Darkland's troops or Darklanders that the Queen might bring as companies?
The four Avatars from Mirad were better known as the four high rulers of Mirad. Not the Avatars of who they truly were—the guardians of the Seven Territories and heroes during the great war between the three worlds in ancient times. While the other three? Oh, Terranius was so excited to see them.
And among all the Seven Avatars he had learned, the one he was most interested in seeing was the Queen of Darkness.
However, the Queen of Darkness’ visit to Gonora seemed not to be accompanied by an official escort, like a troop or so, as she somewhat disliked fame and attention. In fact, she could have reached the Eternal Tree quickly with her power, but who would miss the lovely view of Gonora?
“By Jove. It’s my first time in centuries visiting Gonora. It’s rather crowded now, but the beauty remains the same,” echoed the Queen of Darkness in a tone of amazement. Her eyes glittered, reflecting the beauty of what lay ahead.
“And I’m genuinely grateful that I could be your guard on this trip, Your Majesty,” added Arius, looking as excited as the Queen, yet he didn’t show it as much as the Queen—only his gleaming dark eyes seemed honest.
“Well, I do prefer you as a companion over your strict father,” jested the Queen, with a small chuckle coming after.
Passing an entrance of a woven branches arbour that was no taller than a couple of meters, the vast farms and vegetable gardens were the first to welcome, followed by houses and even some Kortkans turning and waving at them in welcome. Kortkans were known as one of the friendliest races in Mirad.
The sun had just set on the horizon, leaving lively serenity outside the houses of the Kortkans. Every window of the enormous tree trunks, the roots of the eternal tree, and giant mushrooms shone orange; it was warm and homey. All chimneys emitted puffy smoke, bringing the mouth-watering aroma of various grilled meat and herbs that lingered in the air. The flickering lanterns illuminated their house’s garden and entrance; each house had over three. Warm laughter, music, and singing echoed from almost all the households.
Winter was coming anytime soon, so most Kortkans chose to spend the day after sunset inside their houses. Because the breeze from the north grew colder every second the new year approached while bringing prickles of ice into their relatively thick and pallid skin, drying their bushy hair and tail, and, of course, gathering back the warmth of the whole family as most adventurer Kortkans returned to Gonora before winter.
“For the glory of the land of death! Welcome to the Eternal Tree, Queen of the malicious land in the south, Darkland!” greeted Harshavardhan, the Lord of Kortkans. His short hands stretched open, and his small round nose bulged up, matching his chubby cheeks as he smiled beamingly. “I thought you would come with either Devaux or Wyvern, like last time.”
There was both relief and disappointment in his tone.
“Oh dear, I should have let you meet my beloved Sylo. I bet he would adore you, Harshavardhan,” returned Freyja Reine, the Queen of Darkness, with a toothy smile.
Letting out a fake cough, Harshavardhan turned around and entered the Eternal Tree through one of the great crevices between the roots of the Eternal Tree.
“Is Sylo a Devaux or Wyvern?”
He glanced up at Arius, seeking an answer from him perhaps better than the Queen, whose personality was more playful and cheerful type despite being known as the Lord of Darkness, Goddess of Death, and many other vicious titles. Her titles were quite the opposite of her personality.
Slightly smiling, Arius looked downwards at the Lord of Kortkans, whose height was no taller than a meter. “Sylo is a red wyvern and currently the strongest in his race,” he answered in a friendly tone, which only made Harshavardhan’s guts momentarily sink.
Harshavardhan stroked his immaculate white beard to hide his shudder, but Freyja and Arius noticed his short tail sagging. “Ahem. Anyway, the others have arrived, except for the King of the Seas,” Harshavardhan announced, raising his voice.
“It’s nothing new that Thalassa is late,” replied Freyja, shaking her head, then entered the elevator to go up to the Pelagus, which was atop the tree trunk. “Oh, is this the new elevator? Amazing, and… perhaps I could say it’s quite shiny?” She even had to narrow her eyes as she asked.
The elevator was, in fact, more than just shiny. With all the impractical light in every corner, twinkling light particles, and glowing rune carvings all over the interior wall—it was luminous and… festive.
Harshavardhan puffed out his chest, his smug smile rising under his moustache. “Well, since humans’ technology keeps improving, we brought the best ones to tinker and fix our legendary elevator. The magic runes inscribed surrounding this lift are made from the flakes of magic gemstones.”
Freja formed a forced smile, her eyes narrowed, still blinded by the light. “Impressive they are, mortals. Always have the quickest improvement before death greets them in a blink.”
Arius didn’t give any comments and just closed his eyes as the festive elevator moved up.
The Eternal tree was the most enormous tree in this world, about thirty meters wide and over a hundred meters high, with creeping massive roots that some parts were even used as houses by the Kortkans. Nearly no part of the tree was of no use. Some massive roots were used as a house, its huge leaves for roofing, dried flower petals as lanterns and other crafts, and the sap that sometimes appeared in summer could also be used as medicine.
And right atop the trunk, just beneath the thick branches and leaves, there was a vast, sacred chamber called The Pelagus.
“What took the others so damn long to arrive? Freyja summons us after a long time, yet she is the one who’s late.” Kairan sighed in exasperation, with her back leaned against the soft backrest and one leg resting on the chair she was sitting on. As one of the four high rulers of Mirad, the Queen of Spade, she was rather, yes, ill-mannered.
“She probably enjoys Gonora first—like last time,” replied Yoshi, the King of Club, and swirled his goblet of spiced wine as he glared at Kairan, telling her to fix her inappropriate position.
Kairan slid her eyes quickly to avoid Yoshi’s intense glare and nervously readjusted her sitting position.
“You know who is worse? The ruler of fishes and turtles—Thalassa,” Siras, the King of Diamond, chimed in before taking a sip of his spiced wine, and a delightful look soon filled his features. “Oh, for the beauty of my dryads. This surely tastes better and better the more I drink it. I must ask Harshavardhan to send me some of this spiced wine to Diamond.”
“O-oh… I-I think Fre-Freyja is he-here.” The soft and dreamy stammer came from Mirabella, the Queen of Heart.
The four siblings simultaneously turned their attention to the glowing elevator, which then opened to reveal a woman with a long dark dress that matched the colour of her loose hair, like a deep night sky ready to be adorned with glittering stars. Her black crown reflected the hundreds of flickering flower lanterns hanging from every ceiling branch in the Pelagus. She was as breathtaking as the last time the four siblings had seen her. Mature and graceful as ever. Not to mention the dark and dire aura she gave off despite her alluring beauty.
Freyja Reine thoroughly studied the four Ethania siblings with warmth and longing in her eyes. Tens of words willed to escape and express her feelings, but it was somehow hard to utter. Was it because she hadn’t seen them in a long time? Or was it because of the last incident when their true leader disappeared?
“You are so late, Freyja,” Kairan hissed at the beaming Freyja. And her insolent greeting led Freyja to let out a low chuckle.
Freyja might not be sure of a lot of things—well, except one thing: The rest of the Avatars must have felt the same as her.
“Well, I beg you all to pardon me for my deliberate tardiness.” Freyja smiled playfully, then added it with a delicate nod before heading towards her seat.
“Oh, my dearest friend of the darkness—please, no apology required. Darkland is literally on the other side of the earth. Above all, what a wonderful opportunity to see you again after centuries. How is Darkland? And who is this new handsome guy accompanying you?” Siras raised his goblet in greeting. And his godly, charming smile was one thing Freja longed for, and not at the same time.
“Yo-you look as pre-pretty as e-ever,” said Mirabella, her long pink lashes fluttering as she spoke coyly and her fingers dancing nervously.
“Darkland is doing great, and thank you, Mirabella—and oh, I adore your new hairstyle.”
Freyja took a few seconds too long to look at Mirabella’s wavy crimson hair that matched her blushing cheek. It was indeed a new hairstyle and colour, because the last time Freyja saw her, Mirabella’s hair was short and green-coloured.
“And this is Arius Hascisky, Roarki’s first grandson and the current lord of the vampires. He is the only company I bring to this meeting.” She motioned to the tall man who stood behind her, and Arius gave a proper bow toward the four High Kings and Queens of Mirad. “I suppose you guys remember Roarki? The grumpy boy who used to tag along with us in the past—literally our best sidekick?” she added teasingly, and the four Ethania siblings chuckled, except for Kairan, who was still squinting, perhaps ransacking through her memory to try to remember who the Roarki Freja just mentioned was.
“You look as great as your grandfather, and I pleased to meet you, young Arius.” Yoshi cast Arius an approving smile, bringing warmth into his golden eyes.
“Oh, that crabby Rawr-ki!” Kairan shouted and clapped her hands once, way too hard that the hanging lanterns shook. “Hahahahahaha! Yeah, a vampire—a good-looking shape-shifter! And what a handsome creature you are, Young-Rawrki!” She echoed loudly through the room with her smoky voice. “Oooohhhh, I suddenly want to visit Darkland and play with cute Wyverns or Pixies! It’s been ages since I’ve been sleeping!”
After all that dramatic and chaotic way of welcoming Arius, Kairan stretched out her arms and yawned as though she was so exhausted and ready for bed.
Everyone happened to shake their head in unison, inaudible sighs coming along.
Yoshi, again, pinned her with a glare. No matter how many centuries it had been, he always had a personal task to scold Kairan for her rude and ill-mannered behaviour. For the past two hundred years, he had been free from showing any wrath and could finally enjoy the peacefulness he rarely experienced. But that was primarily because, in those two hundred years, Kairan was sleeping.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
Kairan was momentarily stunned; terror slipped through her spine as she perceived Yoshi’s gaze, then immediately looked away and put on a losing sort of expression. It might only be a gaze, but a gripping gaze from the oldest of the Ethania Siblings could actually intimidate normal humans with its terrifying and threatening aura. Someone could even die by Yoshi’s gaze alone. But fortunately, Kairan was no human.
“Wait, how long has it been since ancient times? And that cute, cocky vampire has a grandson already?” asked Siras, brown eyebrows shot up. “Blimey, I’ve been missing so many mating seasons,” he continued in disbelief, even placing his goblet on the table with an audible thud.
“Mating seasons? What the hell are you? A dog?” Kairan voiced a quick reply of disgust as she turned to her younger brother, Siras.
Moving from the noisy Siras and Kairan, there was Mirabella, who finally got the chance to greet Arius. “Ple-plea-sure to meet yo-you, A-Arius.”
Arius nodded at her in response, hiding a slight nervousness. They are all peculiar but somehow so intimidating, he remarked inwardly.
“And only Thalassa left, it seems,” murmured Freyja, deliberately bringing new the topic.
“I heard one of his cute pets destroyed a few ships of Valavega in the western ocean,” began Harshavardhan, coming towards her, then offered Freyja a golden goblet of rose wine (her favourite) and a saucer full of Yaksik, Kortkans’ traditional snack.
“Cute pets—could it be his leviathan or diamare this time?” Yoshi questioned, raising a brow. “Just a week ago, I received a report of complaint from the chief of Ice Elf about a leviathan harassing our northern sea, bringing all the sea lions ashore and threatening our cute penguins. I was about to visit the deep sea a few days ago, but recalling your message about this specific meeting, I guess I shall settle the conversation later with Thalassa here.”
“By Jove, what a pity,” responded Freja, concern on her features. "Aren't they supposed to guard the northern ocean?"
“Oh, no-no—not the cute penguins,” connected Siras, “if any of those sea monsters reach the sea of Diamond, I won’t hesitate to eliminate them myself.”
Kairan growled at Siras’ statement, and the bridge of her nose crinkled. “You can’t just eliminate them so easily like that,” she snarled. “Don’t you know I have raised one of the three leviathans? What if you killed my baby?!”
And thereupon, everyone just connected the conversation about the matters of their lands, with their goblets of wine that were constantly refilled, and yaksik gradually diminished from their saucers. The atmosphere was nostalgic and lively. All of them were fond of the conversation, despite how most of them were, in fact, complaining about their responsibilities.
But soon after, amidst all these, a burbling sound slipped into their ears, followed by a salty smell gusting under their noses. With that, they simultaneously turned towards the vacant seat next to the blond-haired man, Siras.
“You are so-so-so damn late,” grunted Kairan, resting her chin on a hand on the table and her frown deeper.
Siras hauled his blue eyes towards Thalassa, looking at him with concern and cringe. “You look tanner and tanner and bigger and bigger. Ugly is no exception.”
“It’s been centuries, Thalassa,” Freyja greeted the muscular man with long, sapphire hair loosely braided down his back, a shea-sell crown tilted on his head, and no man to guard him. “Seeing you alone, did you just run away from your responsibilities as usual?” she asked teasingly.
Thalassa was alone and as wild as before. Nothing much changed about him.
“Welcome to Mirad, King of Sea—it’s surely been ages, and yet you still look as wild as ever,” greeted Yoshi through his grin, then raised his goblet in greeting.
“We-welco-come t-to Heart Tha-Thalassa…”
Thalassa looked around the Avatars, his smile spreading slowly. “Hohohohohoho… It’s indeed been a long time since we haven’t seen each other! Even when the high Sole Sovereign himself was busy locking the Lake of the Thousand Paths, we were having fun with alcohol and girls—ahahahahahahaha!” His broad chest jiggled as he echoed the Pelagus with deep, hoarse laughter.
“What nonsense, Thalassa,” Yoshi, knowing Thalassa was clearly joking, countered seriously. “We did our best to help humans recover their world, too.”
Thalassa swayed his hand, telling Yoshi not to take his words seriously. “Ahhhhhh! And you seem boring as always, White King! Kahahahahaha!” he replied, laughing, and Yoshi just shook his head and widened his smile in response. “Anyway, I’m glad I can meet you all again!” he exclaimed, grinning widely and pushing his back to rest on the backrest.
The other five Avatars simply formed a similar smile as they felt the same. The excitement in their hearts had overwhelmed them, and nothing but a simple smile could express that feeling.
They had longed to be together in the Pelagus, but their agreement after the great war in dark times hindered their desire to get together. And not to mention, all his duties in their territories always kept them busy.
Either by destiny or a new beginning, there they were… at last, and once again, seated at the rectangular table in the sacred court meant only for them. Despite the incompleteness of one member, they could at least enjoy drinks, snacks, jokes, and laughter together after a very long time.
The rectangular table had seven chairs, and only the chair at the head of the table was empty. Even Yoshi—chosen as the new leader—dared not to sit on it. No matter who led the Avatars after the disappearance of the Sole Sovereign, that seat would always be empty.
Because no Avatar could replace their true leader, the Sole Sovereign.
The first chair on the left side was seated by the King of Club, Yoshi Ethania of the Mirad, and next to him was the King of Diamond, Siras Ethania of the Mirad, and then the King of Sea, Thalassa Maren. Across Yoshi sat the Queen of Darkness, Freyja Reine, and next to her was the Queen of Spade, Kairan Ethania of the Mirad, and the Queen of Heart, Mirabella Ethania of the Mirad.
On the main wall of the Pelagus chamber was engraved the Absolute Court that had been established when this world was created and witnessed by Heaven.
The Seven Revelations descended from Heaven,
Leaving lands and lives to protect,
Reigning for consonance and prosperity.
Do not seek the authority that the sun and heaven refuse to touch,
Or cruelly perish by the rage of the Great Raven.
Treachery will not be forgiven by anything but eternal death.
Waiver of obligation will be judged by the Great Raven.
The Seven Avatars,
Selected once and sovereignly,
Four were the intrepid siblings from the far world beyond the Lake of the Thousand Paths,
One was the wretched fisherman,
One was the child who has seen thousands of deaths,
And the last and the highest one,
The Great and Just Judge, The Sole Sovereign,
Born from the shadow of the Great Raven,
Blessed with the disaster-entrant force,
And respected by the Tree of Life.
The Seven Avatars:
They exist and are cursed.
When everyone had their own goblets full of drink, Freyja began the conversation.
“I actually came from the world tree, not Darkland.” Freyja’s eyes shifted to everyone. “Because I was summoned by the dear world tree.”
The others set aside their usual manners and changed them into solemn ones.
“The world tree rarely summons one of us without apparent reason. Thus, what has the world tree told you, Freyja?” Yoshi locked his fingers on the table, his golden eyes thoroughly on Freyja.
Freyja twisted her lips into a playful smile, and continued, “I have two kinds of news: the bad and perhaps—the good?”
Siras quickly voiced a simple “Oh?” and then raised his goblet as he seamlessly said, “Please, do begin with the good one.” But the others brought their gazes to him in unison, leaving Siras flusteredly answering their similarly critical look with a simple, “What?”
It would always be better to listen to the good one at the end, wouldn’t it?
“O-ought to be-begin with the—”
“Please fill us with the bad news first, then immediately tell the good one before I accidentally use my power and burn the Eternal Tree, Freyja,” Kairan supplied, deadpan, then lazily leaned her back, with both arms folded under her breast.
Without further ado, Freyja created a tense silence in a single sentence as she said, “The world tree senses the existence of one prince of Hell.”
The Avatars widened their eyes in shock. God, no—we are not ready for another war against Hell.
“But how?” Yoshi gasped out; his face hardened. “Oh, apologies—I believe the World Tree would never say nonsense,” he paused and drew a long breath to set a proper demeanour. “But the Sole Sovereign has sealed the path to our world in the Lake of Thousand Paths. We also have destroyed the gates and portals that existed in ancient times.”
“The existence itself doesn’t mean if it is one prince of Hell,” corrected Freyja. “Because the existence is still indistinct.”
Indistinct. That word somehow made the others relax their shoulders a little. Nevertheless, they could not be unguarded if a being from Hell appeared again, especially one of the Seven Princes of Hell. Not in a sense the Avatars were afraid of beings from Hell or anything; they feared more to cause another destruction in the world they protected because of the after-effect of the fight.
Kairan let out a sigh that anyone could hear, breaking this tense silence.
“Now, please, tell us the good news, Freyja.”
Freyja’s low chuckle echoed in the Pelagus, and an unreadable smile etched on her beautiful face afterwards. But her smile made the others somewhat anxious instead.
“It is not the only bad news,” Freyja went on, her smile fading, “One presence of the Seven Sage Dragons is missing—not completely disappeared yet, just missing. The world tree could merely sense the pre—”
But Freyja was interrupted by someone slamming the table with both hands.
And it was none other than Kairan.
“Someone has killed a sage dragon?!!! Killed a being that is only slightly weaker than us?!” Kairan basically shouted. Her blue eyes grew wide in shock and excitement, and the corners of her lips curled up.
“So-someone ki-killed a s-sage dra-dragon?” Mirabella covered her mouth with trembling hands. The flowers of her crown withered and fell one by one, but quickly the next flowers grew, and it kept repeating until her guard, a faun named Bill, had to pick up the fallen flowers, preventing them from messing the floor.
“What can you mean? Did someone kill a sage dragon? Not just any dragon, but the wisest and supreme dragon of dragons?” Siras was genuinely flabbergasted.
“For the sake of heaven! Even though there was someone who killed a sage dragon, the other sage dragons must have sensed the loss of one of their brethren, and Lord Aqonise himself sensed nothing the last time I saw him a week ago!” Thalassa’s roar reverberated through the room, all the goblets shaking as he slammed a fist on the table.
Kairan gaped at the two of them, then massaged her temple, rummaging through her dolt brain to rethink. Right, who could kill a being that is as strong as one of us?
Yoshi sighed and ignored his less-normal sister. It was best to do that. “By the faint existence of one of the seven princes of hell, would this be a monumental disaster like last time?” His gaze planted on Freyja, whose lips stretched into a thin smile.
Freyja was quite impressed by how Yoshi quickly put aside the matter of the Sage Dragon. That was not to say that specific matter was not important, but she knew that Yoshi had personally never had a good relationship with the Seven Sage Dragons.
“Well, the good news: the word tree told us not to worry.” Freyja’s smile widened—rather cheeky, that smile.
“Not to worry when there’s an existence of one prince of hell and the disappearance of a Sage Dragon?” Yoshi flashed her a questioning look.
“Right?” Freyja scoffed, and the tension oddly eased. “I, too, truly wonder why the dear world tree told us not to worry, but we still ought to prepare, just in case.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“The thing is… if any Princes of Hell really step on our world again, and their target is the human lands again.” Siras paused, and everyone had an expression as though they sighed inwardly.
But someone continued his words.
“It would be hard for us to interfere while the Sole Sovereign is still gone.” Thalassa’s voice was as gloomy as his face.
“The sole sovereign will return.” Freyja quickly broke the grim atmosphere with her convincing voice. “That is the last good news.”
“T-the so-sole…”
But Mirabella was interrupted. And it was no one other than Kairan again.
“The Sole Sovereign will return?!” Kairan slammed the table again. Her eyes lit up as she smiled with her mouth open.
Freyja moved her gaze to everyone before resting on the empty goblet in her hand. “But alas, the dear world tree told me that based on the prophecy,” she said wistfully, yet her features showed quite the opposite.
Yoshi failed to stifle a grin. “Prophecy—I know well you detest that, but I somehow have a different idea after seeing you have such a smile.” And Freyja flashed him an approving glance and a devilish smile in return for his statement.
Kairan cast Freyja her usual goofy look. “What’s the prophecy?”
Freyja swung down a hand and let out a snort. “Oh, I humbly and accidentally helped someone when I visited the Faerie land, and the boys—I mean that now a boy is predicted to be the one from the prophecy. The one who will trigger the return of the Sole Sovereign.”
She paused and let out a brief sigh, shaking her head in the process.
“Though I highly doubt such a prophecy—who still believes in prophecy? We are not in ancient times anymore, aren’t we?” Freyja chuckled and brought the goblet to her lips, draining the rose wine as if there was no tomorrow.
Everyone let out a low, curt chuckle, and smiles were clear on all the faces. Visiting and helping a being beyond her control and territory. They could more or less conclude how much fun Freyja had during her travels, and it made them somewhat jealous.
Since the loss of their leader, the six Avatars decided to focus on the matters of their territory and went into hiding. Hiding the existence of their powers. And letting creatures outside their region forget about them and their stories.
Because power incurred disaster, it’s natural.
“I want to do something interesting too! Ahhhhhhhh—maybe I should visit Ramone!” Thalassa declared and swiftly snatched a bottle of wine in Harshavardhan’s hand, then gulped down the entire bottle in a few seconds. “Gahhhhh—Siras! I will go with you to the east! I miss the winter music of the centaurs!”
Oh, dear lord, please don’t. My winter this year would be so noisy then, said Siras inwardly, looking away with a slight wince on his face.
“Ohhh… for the grace of Heart, spring flowers shall bloom more beautifully and vibrant next year,” Mirabella went on in her dreamy and contented tone, without stuttering, which meant she was jubilant. Her hands clasped together, and then butterflies suddenly popped out from her flower crown and flew around the table, sprinkling flower pollen. With that, the sweet fragrance of flowers rode the air and fanned into everyone’s nose.
Everyone clammed up for some moments and turned to Mirabella; they were at a loss for words. When was the last time they heard Mirabella speak without stuttering and nervousness?
But a sneeze from Yoshi broke the silence, followed by a loud laugh from Thalassa that invited everyone to laugh too.
***
“This boy you mentioned—must be fortunate for getting help from an avatar,” Yoshi began, his voice getting hoarse after drinking over five glasses of wine. Only he and Freyja did not join the other avatars singing and dancing along with the other kortkans and fauns, as if that day was the last day before the disaster.
Freyja turned and cast a faint smile at Yoshi, her brows hiking. “That might be the case, but after discovering who the boy was, I wonder if I could say he is lucky.” She shrugged, then emptied her goblet and leaned on the backrest. “He’s been in the clutches of a game since birth—how hilarious they are; fae…and humans.”
Pausing, she gave Yoshi a concerned glance and shook her head.
“But I pity him anyhow, because he is…rather weak.”
Yoshi snorted after catching the word ‘pity’ out of Freyja, who was better known as the Goddess of Death in the beliefs of humans and faeries.
“The ruler of darkness showing pity for beings outside her land is indeed one thing that should be shocking news to Darkland and Mirad. He is a fae, yes?”
That question caused Freyja to widen her smile.
“Half, but is unloved by the world tree.”
Yoshi opened his eyes wide, but his lips were smiling. “Well, you do have to pity such a being.”
----------------------------------------
Between the dense branches, upon the molten-red leaves that piled up as a mere bed—just a little crumbly—there were two young kortkans lay lazily, with some Yaksik left in a paper bag and a pipe-listener tool Terranius bought from a human merchant from Arcsvere twenty years ago. That tool helped him hear nearly everything about the meeting.
“Gormar, do you want to visit the faerie land with me?”
“Bloody hell, Terra. Don’t you know how ruthless they are?!”
“Then what about the human lands?”
“…. As long as we are not going to Valavega, I’m okay with anything. Irnakalshi would be better, though.”
“Then, let’s go in three to five years.”
“Oh? I thought you would say: Let’s go in two days or something.”
“We need a companion who is experienced in the human lands.”
“… Who?”
“Someone I know from Club, an ice elf.”
Terranius and Gormar are ready for tons of Adventures!
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1058053962953138237/1161296484734615702/terra_and_gormar.jpg?ex=6537c8a1&is=652553a1&hm=872d6d80961e43d0c01603b6b6ef12df8bb4fc0224f9da13172acee179a22f36&]
Map of Mirad
[https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/931529365542555650/1161322209327976468/mirad.jpg?ex=6537e097&is=65256b97&hm=e94ac813593d6c92844d6c880c3c37716d55495a5512da02426721115c610588&=&width=1059&height=700]
All Artwork in this story is drawn and illustrated by myself (Sushirollw/Lune B)