Dragon's Edge Legit

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<<nobr>>  <li>[[Stats|Stat page 1]]</li> <li>[[Characters|State page 2]]</li> <li>[[Codex|Stat page 3]]</li> <</nobr>>

Dragon's Edged

by <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dragonedged-if" target="_blank">@dragonedged-if</a>

<li><a href="https://royal1asset-if.tumblr.com/post/702687057058856960/spotify-playlist" target="_blank">Spotify</a></li> <li><a href="https://discord.com/users/1049107193493995621" target="_blank">Discord</a></li>

!Stat page 1 <<= $strength>> Strength <div class="bar-container"> <div class="bar" style="width: <<round ($strength / 20 * 100)>>%;"></div> </div> <<= $endurance>> Endurance <div class="bar-container"> <div class="bar" style="width: <<round ($endurance / 20 * 100)>>%;"></div> </div> <<= $finesse>> Finesse <div class="bar-container"> <div class="bar" style="width: <<round ($finesse / 20 * 100)>>%;"></div> </div> <<= $wisdom>> Wisdom <div class="bar-container"> <div class="bar" style="width: <<round ($wisdom / 20 * 100)>>%;"></div> </div> <<= $charm>> Charm <div class="bar-container"> <div class="bar" style="width: <<round ($charm / 20 * 100)>>%;"></div> </div> <<= $guile>> Guile <div class="bar-container"> <div class="bar" style="width: <<round ($guile / 20 * 100)>>%;"></div> </div> <<= $agility>> Agility <div class="bar-container"> <div class="bar" style="width: <<round ($agility / 20 * 100)>>%;"></div> </div> ''//Strength= The strength trait skill represents a character's physical power and capability to exert force. Imagine a group of adventurers trying to move a large boulder blocking their path in a dungeon. One of the adventurers, a burly warrior with a high strength skill, steps forward and puts their shoulder to the boulder. With a grunt of effort, they push against the rock and slowly but surely begin to move it aside. The rest of the group pitches in to help, but it's clear that the warrior's strength is the deciding factor in their success. This scene showcases how the strength trait skill can be useful in a variety of situations, such as combat, manual labor, or even just opening a stuck door. A character with a high strength skill can provide crucial support to their allies and overcome physical obstacles that might otherwise be insurmountable.//'' ''//Endurance= The endurance trait skill represents a character's ability to withstand physical exertion, resist fatigue, and endure difficult conditions. Imagine a group of adventurers traversing a harsh desert landscape. As they journey through the blazing sun and shifting sands, one of the adventurers, a rugged ranger with a high endurance skill, takes the lead. They march tirelessly through the heat, providing encouragement and support to the rest of the group. Despite the harsh conditions, the ranger shows no signs of slowing down, and their companions draw strength from their unwavering determination. This scene showcases how the endurance trait skill can be useful in a variety of situations, such as traveling long distances, withstanding extreme weather conditions, or engaging in prolonged physical activity. A character with a high endurance skill can be a valuable asset to their allies, providing the stamina and resilience needed to overcome difficult challenges and persevere in the face of adversity.//'' ''//Finesse= The finesse trait skill represents a character's precision, coordination, and dexterity. Imagine a group of adventurers sneaking through a heavily guarded fortress. As they navigate through narrow corridors and avoid patrolling guards, one of the adventurers, a nimble thief with a high finesse skill, takes the lead. They move with effortless grace and precision, darting through shadows and dodging obstacles with ease. Their companions follow closely, their own movements more hesitant and clumsy by comparison. This scene showcases how the finesse trait skill can be useful in a variety of situations, such as stealthy movement, acrobatics, or precise combat maneuvers. A character with a high finesse skill can be a valuable asset to their allies, providing the grace and accuracy needed to navigate tricky situations and overcome obstacles with ease.//'' ''//Wisdom= The wisdom trait skill represents a character's ability to perceive, understand, and make good judgments based on their experiences and knowledge. Imagine a group of adventurers facing a difficult decision about how to proceed with their quest. As they weigh their options and consider the potential risks and rewards, one of the adventurers, a wise old sage with a high wisdom skill, speaks up. They offer insights and advice based on their years of experience and contemplation, and their words carry a weight of authority and understanding. The other members of the group listen attentively, recognizing the value of the sage's wisdom. This scene showcases how the wisdom trait skill can be useful in a variety of situations, such as decision-making, problem-solving, and understanding complex concepts. A character with a high wisdom skill can be a valuable asset to their allies, providing the insight and guidance needed to navigate tricky situations and make informed choices.//'' ''//Charm= The charm trait skill represents a character's ability to persuade, influence, and impress others with their charisma and personality. Imagine a group of adventurers trying to gain entry to a royal palace. As they approach the gate, they are stopped by a guard who demands to know their business. One of the adventurers, a charismatic bard with a high charm skill, steps forward. They flash a winning smile, strike a pose, and begin to weave a tale of adventure and heroism. The guard is soon entranced by the bard's words, and with a wink and a nod, allows the group to pass without further question. This scene showcases how the charm trait skill can be useful in a variety of situations, such as diplomacy, deception, and social interactions. A character with a high charm skill can be a valuable asset to their allies, providing the charm and charisma needed to win over others, smooth over tensions, and gain valuable information or resources.//'' ''//Guile= The guile trait skill represents a character's ability to deceive, manipulate, and trick others with cunning and subtlety. Imagine a group of adventurers trying to infiltrate a fortress held by enemy forces. As they approach the gates, they are challenged by a guard who demands to know their identities and purpose. One of the adventurers, a rogue with a high guile skill, steps forward. They adopt a false identity, spinning a tale of being a wealthy merchant seeking to do business with the enemy. With a few well-placed lies and subtle hints, they convince the guard to let them pass without arousing suspicion. This scene showcases how the guile trait skill can be useful in a variety of situations, such as espionage, sabotage, and infiltration. A character with a high guile skill can be a valuable asset to their allies, providing the cunning and deceit needed to outmaneuver enemies, gather information, and achieve their objectives through stealth and trickery.//'' ''//Agility= The agility trait skill represents a character's physical flexibility, dexterity, and speed. Imagine a group of adventurers trying to escape a collapsing dungeon filled with traps and obstacles. As they make their way through the maze of tunnels, they come across a section of the wall that has crumbled, revealing a narrow passage. One of the adventurers, a nimble thief with a high agility skill, quickly scales the wall and jumps across a series of precarious ledges, dodging falling debris and avoiding deadly traps. They make it to the other side safely, and using their knowledge of lock-picking, they open a door that leads the group to safety. This scene showcases how the agility trait skill can be useful in a variety of situations, such as parkour, athletics, and combat. A character with a high agility skill can be a valuable asset to their allies, providing the speed, coordination, and reflexes needed to navigate treacherous terrain, dodge attacks, and perform complex maneuvers.//'' ''//Also be warned there are instances where these 7 stat will be used in combination with the others. Examples: Agility and Charm: Imagine a noble's ballroom where the main character, a rogue with high agile charm, is trying to charm information out of a wealthy merchant. The rogue approaches the merchant, engaging them in small talk and demonstrating their agility by deftly avoiding other partygoers while maneuvering the crowded ballroom. They use their charm to make the merchant feel comfortable, complimenting their outfit and expressing interest in their business ventures. As the night goes on, the rogue is able to extract the information they need from the merchant without raising any suspicions. This scene showcases how an agile charm skill combination can be useful in social situations, allowing a character to smoothly navigate the intricacies of etiquette and charm those around them. In addition to extracting information, this skill can also be useful in building alliances, negotiating deals, or convincing others to do what you want. Guile and Endurance: Imagine the main character, a thief with high enduring guile, attempting to escape from a heavily guarded castle. The thief sneaks through the castle undetected but is eventually caught by a group of guards. Rather than fighting them head-on, the thief uses their guile to outsmart the guards. They convince the guards to let their guard down by pretending to surrender, then using their endurance to outlast the guards in a grueling chase through the castle's many corridors and staircases. The thief eventually escapes, using their guile to misdirect the guards and throw them off their trail. This scene showcases how an enduring guile skill combination can be useful in situations where a character needs to outlast their opponents through cunning and endurance. It allows the character to think on their feet and adapt to changing circumstances while maintaining their physical and mental fortitude. In addition to escaping dangerous situations, this skill can also be useful in situations where a character needs to outwit their opponents in negotiations or strategic planning. Strength and Finesse: Imagine the main character, a warrior with high strong finesse, engaged in combat with a group of enemies. The warrior wields a massive greatsword with ease, striking down opponents with powerful swings while simultaneously dodging attacks with nimble footwork. In a critical moment, the warrior performs a complex maneuver, spinning the greatsword in a precise pattern to strike multiple opponents at once. The maneuver requires both immense strength and precise control, showcasing the warrior's high strong finesse skill. This scene showcases how a strong finesse skill combination can be useful in combat situations where a character needs to perform physically demanding tasks with precision and control. It allows the character to strike with power and accuracy while avoiding incoming attacks with nimble footwork.//'' <center><<link "Return to game" $return>><</link>></center>

!Stat page 2 ''//Lucian, The God Of Fertility//'' ''//Eye Color: Amber//'' ''//Skin Color: Tan//'' ''//Hair Color: Ginger//'' ''//Relationship Status: Single(As Of Now)//'' ''//Hair Length: Short//'' ''//Hair Type: Curly//'' ''//First Entry://'' Welcome, dear reader, to the astonishing and perplexing world of Lucian, the God of Fertility. Prepare yourself for a journey that will tickle your funny bone, ignite your imagination, and make you question your sanity. But fear not, for Lucian is here to guide you through this peculiar realm of humor and fertility. First things first, let's talk about Lucian's fanboy status. Oh yes, dear reader, Lucian is not just any ordinary deity; he is a fanboy extraordinaire. Picture him wearing a T-shirt with your MC's own face on it, proudly proclaiming his undying love for MC's works. He collects dragon-themed memorabilia, attends fantasy conventions ''//(Sneaking out of the Celestial Realm of course!)//'' Talk about dedication! Now, let's delve into Lucian's charming personality. Picture a carefree spirit, frolicking through meadows of blooming flowers and spreading contagious laughter wherever he goes. Lucian is adorably child-like, with his wide-eyed wonder and infectious giggle that can brighten even the gloomiest of days. He possesses an uncanny ability to make anyone feel at ease, whether it be a barren field or an awkward social gathering. His charm knows no bounds! But don't let his adorable nature fool you; Lucian is a loyal companion. He stands by MC through thick and thin, always ready to lend a helping hand or a well-timed joke. His loyalty knows no bounds. If you're in need of a wingman, Lucian is your guy. Just be prepared for the occasional corny joke or two along the way.'' ''//Variel, The Raging Inferno//'' ''//Eye Color: Crimson Red//'' ''//Skin Color: Pale White With Ruby Scales Adorning It//'' ''//Hair Color: Burning Vermillion//'' ''//Relationship Status: Single(Beware If Your Going To Pursue This!)//'' ''//Hair Length: Medium//'' ''//Hair Type: Wavy//'' ''//First Entry://'' Hold onto your hats, dear reader, for we are about to embark on a fiery adventure with Variel, the one and only Raging Inferno. But be warned, this is not your typical dragon tale. No, no, Variel is not your average fire-breathing, treasure-hoarding dragon. She's a force to be reckoned with, and she's not afraid to show her true colors – even if they're a little on the sadistic side. Let's dive into Variel's fiery personality, shall we? Picture a dragoness with a wicked sense of humor and an appetite for chaos. Variel takes pleasure in the suffering of others, finding joy in the chaos she creates. She's not your run-of-the-mill "save the princess" kind of dragon; she's more of a "burn the kingdom to the ground and laugh maniacally" kind of gal. Oh, the havoc she wreaks! ''//(Bow down to the queen of the inferno!).//'' Now, picture this: Variel is the kind of dragon who breathes fire just to light her birthday candles. She roams the skies with all the grace of an avalanche but with the sass of a diva. Her scales shimmer like a thousand precious gems, and her claws could give Wolverine a run for his money. But it's not just her physical prowess that makes her intriguing; it's her personality. ''//(Oh boy, if you should know what plans she have for you my dear Readers!)//'' But let's not forget her sadistic tendencies. She's the queen of mind games, the mistress of manipulation, and she revels in it. She'll toy with your emotions like a cat with a mouse, all while making you beg for more. And as for being dominative, well, Variel doesn't just rule her domain; she rules your imagination as well. She's the puppeteer, and you're the marionette dancing to her whims. ''//Lucas Pierce, The Royal Protector//'' ''//Eye Color: Cold Blue//'' ''//Skin Color: White//'' ''//Hair Color: Midnight Black//'' ''//Relationship Status: Taken Before! Now Single(Not For The Faint Of Heart!)//'' ''//Hair Type: Straight//'' ''//Hair Length: Very Short//'' ''//First Entry://'' Let's dive into Lucas... oh, our grumpy Lucas. A man of few words, but oh, the secrets that lie beneath that furrowed brow! He's the kind of guy who could make a thunderstorm seem cheerful, and a sunny day feel like a funeral procession. If you're lucky enough to catch a glimpse of his elusive smile, you might just question your own existence. Now, our friend Lucas, oh, where do I begin? He's the kind of guy who greets each day with the enthusiasm of a tortoise trying to sprint a marathon. His grumpiness could give even the grumpiest grumps a run for their money. It's as if he's allergic to smiles and small talk. But fear not, dear reader, for there's more to Lucas than meets the eye. He's the Royal Protector, a title he takes very, very seriously. He's so focused on his duty that if a meteor were to crash right next to him, he'd probably just give it a disapproving glare and continue guarding the royal chambers. And when it comes to words, Lucas is a man of few. In fact, if you ever manage to extract a full sentence from him, consider it a monumental achievement. Still what he lacks in words, he makes up for in secrets. Now, let's talk about Lucas's aloofness. Picture a man so indifferent that he could win a gold medal in the Olympics of disinterest. He's like a human iceberg, with emotions buried deep beneath the surface. But don't let that fool you; his aloofness is just a facade, a clever ploy to keep the world at bay. Behind those icy eyes, there lies a heart that beats fiercely with loyalty and dedication. Speaking of dedication, Lucas is a man on a mission. His duty is his life, and he takes it more seriously than a Shakespearean actor reciting Hamlet. He'll protect his charge with a fervor that can only be compared to a mama bear protecting her cubs. Nothing and no one can sway him from his path, not even a perfectly timed knock-knock joke. He's focused, determined, and ready to lay down his life for the sake of his duty. ''//Clara Dacre, The Royal Princess//'' ''//Eye Color: Brown//'' ''//Skin Color: Fair//'' ''//Hair Color: Deep Hazel//'' ''//Relationship Status: Single(For Those Looking For A Adrenaline Rush)//'' ''//Hair Type: Curly and Wavy//'' ''//Hair Length: Long//'' ''//First Entry://''Ah, dear readers, gather 'round for a tale of flirtation, sweetness, and scandal that will leave you both enthralled and slightly scandalized. Let's delve into the thrilling life of our beloved princess, Clara. She's not your typical damsel in distress, oh no! She's a whirlwind of excitement, always ready to embark on the next grand adventure. If there's a treasure to be found or a dragon to be tamed, you can bet Clara will be leading the charge, armed with her wit and a mischievous glint in her eye. But let's not forget her flirtatious nature - oh, it's a force to be reckoned with! Clara could charm the feathers off a peacock and leave even the most stoic royal guards blushing like schoolchildren. With a wink here and a flirtatious remark there, she turns heads and leaves a trail of swooning suitors in her wake. But beneath that playful facade lies a heart that is true and full of compassion, always ready to lend a helping hand to those in need. Now, let's talk about scandal, dear readers. Clara is no stranger to stirring up trouble, and she wears her reputation as the kingdom's renowned prankster with pride. From swapping the king's crown with a jester's hat to coating the palace floors with slippery ointment, she keeps the court on their toes and always guessing what she'll do next. But don't worry, her pranks are all in good fun, and she brings laughter and lightness to a sometimes stuffy royal atmosphere. She's got a knack for turning the kingdom's gossip mill into a full-blown scandal factory. Who's she courting this week? What daring escapade is she plotting next? The kingdom's courtiers can't keep up, and they love every juicy moment of it. However, it must be said that Clara is not one to conform to the strict rules of royal decorum. She dances to the beat of her own drum, much to the chagrin of the palace etiquette committee. She's more likely to be found climbing trees or engaging in sword fights than attending formal balls or practicing her curtsies. But hey, who needs proper royal decorum when you can have thrilling adventures and scandalous escapades? Lee Pierce, Husband Of Garett Pierce ''//Eye Color: Green//'' ''//Skin Color: Olive//'' ''//Hair Color: Blond//'' ''//Relationship Status: Happily Married ''//Hair Type: In A Ponytail//'' ''//Hair Length: Long//'' ''//First Entry: Let me introduce you to Lee Pierce, a man whose adventurous spirit knows no bounds. He's like a modern-day Indiana Jones, always ready to embark on thrilling escapades alongside his beloved Garett. From uncovering hidden treasures to exploring uncharted territories, Lee is the epitome of a daring and roguish gentleman. But don't let his rugged exterior fool you - underneath that mischievous grin lies a heart of gold, always looking out for his loved ones, especially our dear Lucas. Now, let's talk about Lee's role as a father figure to our young, Lucas. He's like the cool, wild uncle who's always ready to impart wisdom with a side of humor. From teaching Lucas the art of swordplay to sharing tales of his own misadventures. And let's not forget the dad jokes - oh, the dad jokes! Lee has a never-ending supply of puns and one-liners that will have you groaning and laughing in equal measure. He knows how to keep the mood light and the laughter flowing, ensuring that even in the face of danger, there's always a reason to smile. But what truly sets Lee apart is his unwavering love for Garett. They are the epitome of a perfect couple, their love radiating like a beacon of hope. Lee's devotion to Garett is as steadfast as it is passionate, and together they create a bond that can weather any storm. Their love story is one for the ages, filled with laughter, adventure, and a healthy dose of shenanigans. ''//Garett Pierce, The Seneschal Of Their Majesties//'' ''//Eye Color: Grey//'' ''//Skin Color: Mocha//'' ''//Hair Color: Red//'' ''//Relationship Status: Happily Married//'' ''//Hair Type: Curly//'' ''//Hair Length: Short//'' Welcome to the House of Pierce, known far and wide for their grandeur and daring reputation. But when Garett came out of the closet and proclaimed his love for one man and one man only, Lee Pierce, the world gasped in disbelief. Yet, our noble Garett never wavered, continuing to court and pursue Lee in the name of love and holy matrimony. Brace yourselves for a humorous and engaging journey as we explore the life of Garett, the composed and devoted Seneschal of Their Majesties, and the man who brings out the wild side in Lee. Let's begin with Garett's composed nature, a trait he carries with utmost dignity and poise. As the Seneschal of Their Majesties, he is the epitome of responsibility and duty, ensuring the smooth running of the kingdom with unwavering dedication.He's as composed as a symphony conductor, as devoted as a loyal hound, and as noble and honorable as a knight in shining armor. The people of Tiara adore him for his unwavering courage and his selfless deeds. He's the kind of guy who would rescue a kitten from a tree and then go on to lead a heroic charge into battle without breaking a sweat. But, dear readers, hold on tight, for when Garett is paired up with our mischievous Lee, all that composure goes down the drain faster than a leaky bucket. Oh, the antics and shenanigans that unfold when these two are together! Garett's composed facade crumbles, giving way to a whirlwind of laughter and chaos. And let's not forget Garett's role as the surrogate father to our beloved Lucas. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, they say, and it's clear that Lucas inherited his devotion from his noble father figure. Garett's guidance and love shape Lucas into the remarkable young hero he becomes. Together, they navigate the trials and tribulations, sharing lessons that go beyond the boundaries of duty and honor. Garett's heart overflows with paternal love, and the bond between him and Lucas is a testament to the power of family, chosen or otherwise. ''//Richard Dacre, King Of Tiara//'' ''//First Entry://'' Hear ye, hear ye, gather 'round, dear readers, for a royal revelation! Behold, //Richard Dacre, King of Tiara//! You might expect a king to be all stiff and formal, but prepare to have your expectations royally shattered, pun intended. Now, when you hear the name of a king, you might expect strictness, formality, and a whole lot of "by the book" behavior. At first glance, King Richard may come off as stoic, as if he's been sculpted from the finest marble. You'd think he's the kind of king who only smiles on special occasions and conducts meetings like a professor delivering a lecture on the most riveting topic known to man (or kingdom). Oh, dear readers, prepare to have your expectations blown away as Richard Dacre reveals his true colors. The moment you meet King Richard, it's like a breath of fresh air on a warm summer's day. He's playful, friendly, and approachable, like the kingdom's favorite uncle. He'll have you laughing and feeling at home faster than you can say "royal banquet." His laughter is infectious, and his sense of humor can rival even the kingdom-renowned prankster, Clara. Approachability is the name of the game when it comes to our beloved king. He has a knack for making everyone feel comfortable in his presence. Whether you're a humble servant or a noble lord, Richard treats you with the same warmth and respect. He has a way of making you feel at home, like you're part of an extended royal family. And let's not forget his infectious laughter that fills the halls of the castle, turning even the most mundane of conversations into delightful moments of joy. Speaking of Clara, it's clear where she got her wild side. King Richard is the ultimate fun-loving dad who encourages his daughter's adventurous spirit. He's the kind of father who'd join her in a mud pie fight and then share a good laugh about it over tea. And speaking of love, dear readers, let's not forget the deep affection Richard holds for his wife. He values her opinion and seeks her guidance on matters of utmost importance. In a world where kings often make decisions in isolation, Richard breaks the mold and chooses to include his wife in the decision-making process and he values her opinions like they're the kingdom's most precious gems. He's the king who'll sweep his queen off her feet with a dance in the moonlight, and then they'll laugh together until the stars twinkle brighter. ''//Queen Isobel, The Queen Of Tiara//'' ''//First Entry: Ah, dear readers, how could we possibly forget to mention the other half of this royal power couple? Yes, we are talking about none other than Queen Isobel, Richard's perfect match. Now, while many view the King as a friendly ally, the Queen is a whole different story. Brace yourselves, dear readers, for Queen Isobel is a force to be reckoned with. Her demeanor radiates dread, her face devoid of hesitation, and she only graces special occasions with her captivating presence. But let us delve deeper into the complex persona of this formidable queen who leaves no room for underestimation. She possesses an aura that sends shivers down your spine, leaving you in awe of her commanding presence. Her face, oh so carefully guarded, reveals nothing of her inner thoughts. Her face is like a fortress, and her emotions are locked away tighter than the royal treasury. It's like trying to decipher a secret code written in invisible ink. She keeps everyone guessing, and it's a game she plays masterfully. Now, let us not forget that behind that serious and intimidating facade lies a brave and fearsome warrior. Yes, you heard that right, dear readers. Queen Isobel is not one to shy away from getting her hands dirty, both metaphorically and literally. Her battlefield prowess is a sight to behold, earning her the illustrious title of the Golden Hawk. With a double-edged sword in hand, she strikes fear into the hearts of her enemies, leaving a trail of victory in her wake. When it's time to lead her troops into battle, she's like a storm on the horizon, fierce and unyielding. Another talent that Queen Isobel is being a expert peaceaker. She is not afraid to venture beyond the comforts of her kingdom to engage with other realms. Her diplomatic skills are as sharp as her sword, making her a formidable negotiator and a respected voice among her peers. She is a queen who takes matters into her own hands, unafraid to get personal with her enemies if the situation calls for it.  <center><<link "Return to game" $return>><</link>></center>

!Stat page 3 Your stats go here..  <center><<link "Return to game" $return>><</link>></center>

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''//Prologue, A Cruel Reality//'' //You are on your knees, gasping for the precious air that seems to elude you. The leather of your sword’s pommel is slick with your sweat, as drops of salty moisture fall onto the ashen ground beneath you. You clutch your chest, feeling a sharp pain that pierces your heart. You know it is not from the wound that stains your hand with blood, but from the sight that fills your eyes with horror. The fields that once bloomed with life are now a wasteland of death and destruction. The crops that fed the people are reduced to blackened husks, the animals that roamed the land are charred corpses. The lake that sparkled in the sun is now a gaping crater, spewing clouds of smoke that darken the sky. Embers and ashes dance in the air, mocking you with their glee. The flames that engulfed everything in their path are still raging, scorching your skin and searing your lungs. The acrid scent of smoke fills your nostrils, making you cough and choke. Every breath feels like a knife in your throat, cutting off your oxygen. Sweat cascades down your face like a waterfall, mixing with the ashen dust that covers you. You look around, hoping to see a sign of life, a glimmer of hope. But all you see is death and despair. The bodies of your comrades lie scattered on the ground, their faces frozen in agony and fear. Some are missing limbs, others are burned beyond recognition. You recognize none of them, except for one. He lies next to you, his eyes wide open and staring at nothing. He was your best friend, your brother in arms. You fought together, laughed together, dreamed together. You remember his voice, his smile, his jokes. You remember how he always had your back, how he always cheered you up when you were down. You remember how he said he would never leave you, how he said he would always be there for you. You reach out to touch his face, to close his eyes, to say goodbye. But before you can do so, a deafening roar shatters the silence, making you flinch and recoil. You look up and see a monstrous shadow looming over you, blocking out the sun.// [[Continue|Prolugue 2]]

//You watch in horror as Leroy jumps onto the table, sending plates and utensils crashing to the ground. His eyes are wide with fear, and his voice trembles as he shouts, “The enemy draws near!” You feel a cold sweat break out on your forehead, and your stomach churns with dread. You look around the campfire, where moments ago you and your comrades were laughing and celebrating your latest victory. Now, everyone is silent, their faces pale and their hands shaking. You hear whispers of terror spreading like wildfire through the huddled group. “A dragon,” someone says. “A bloody dragon is coming for us.” You know that this is no ordinary dragon. This is the dragon that has been haunting your dreams for months, the one that you thought was your friend. The one that spoke to you in your mind, giving you advice, guidance, and comfort. The one that knew you better than anyone else. But it was all a lie. A cruel trick to lure you into a trap. The dragon was never your ally - it was your enemy. And now, it has come to finish what it started. You snap out of your shock and take charge of the situation. You are the leader of this band of misfits, and you have a responsibility to protect them. You have faced many dangers before, and you are not going to give up without a fight. You stand up and raise your voice, cutting through the panicked murmurs like a knife. “Listen up, everyone! We have a dragon to kill!” You see some of your troops nodding their heads, their eyes shining with determination. Others look doubtful, fearful, or hopeless. You know that you have to inspire them, to give them courage and hope. You point at Leroy, who is still standing on the table, his arms raised in a dramatic pose. “Leroy here has spotted the dragon from afar. He says it’s flying towards us from the east. That means we have some time to prepare.” You turn to Fletcher, who is holding a spyglass in his hand. He is one of your best scouts, and he has been tracking the dragon’s movements for weeks. “Fletcher, give me the spyglass. I need to see for myself.” Fletcher nods and hands you the spyglass. He looks calm and collected, unlike some of the others. You admire his courage and loyalty. You take the spyglass and scan the horizon. You see a red dot in the distance, growing larger by the second. You can hear the sound of powerful wings flapping in the air, sending chills down your spine. You zoom in on the dot, and your blood runs cold. It’s the dragon, alright. And it’s not just any dragon - it’s a massive beast with scales as red as blood, horns as sharp as blades, and eyes as black as coal. You can see its mouth opening wide, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth. You can almost feel its breath on your face, hot and foul. You lower the spyglass and take a deep breath. You know that this is going to be the hardest battle of your life - maybe even your last. But you are not going to let that stop you. You turn to your troops again and speak with confidence and authority. “Alright, here’s what we’re going to do. We have two weapons against this dragon: our archers and our ballista.” You point at the group of archers at the back of the camp. They are armed with bows and arrows, some of them tipped with poison or fire. “Archers, you are our first line of defense. When I give the signal, you will unleash a volley of arrows at the dragon’s wings. Aim for its joints and tendons - we need to cripple its flight.” The archers nod their heads in agreement. They are skilled marksmen, trained by you personally. You then point at the ballista near the edge of the camp. It is a large crossbow-like device that can launch metal-tipped bolts with great force. “Ballista crew, you are our second line of defense - and our last hope. When I give the signal, you will fire one bolt at the dragon’s heart. Aim for its chest - we need to pierce its armor.” The ballista crew nods their heads in agreement. They are experienced engineers, who built the ballista themselves. You look at the rest of your troops, who are armed with swords, axes, spears, and shields. “And the rest of you, you are our third line of defense - and our backup. When I give the signal, you will charge at the dragon with everything you have. Aim for its head, neck, and belly - we need to make it bleed.” The rest of your troops nod their heads in agreement. They are brave warriors, who have fought by your side for years. You look at them all with pride and gratitude. They are your family, your friends, your brothers and sisters in arms. You smile and raise your sword in the air. “Are you ready to fight?” You hear a chorus of cheers and shouts from your troops. “Yes!” “Let’s do this!” “For glory!” “For freedom!” “For each other!” You feel a surge of adrenaline and excitement in your veins. You lower your sword and point it at the dragon. “Then let’s go!” You give the signal, and the battle begins. The archers fire their arrows, creating a rain of death in the sky. The ballista crew fires their bolt, creating a flash of light in the sun. The rest of your troops charge at the dragon, creating a roar of fury on the ground. You join them in the charge, leading them by example. You run towards the dragon, your sword in your hand, your heart in your throat. You see the dragon’s reaction to your attack. It dodges some of the arrows, but others hit their mark. It shrugs off the bolt, but it leaves a dent in its chest. It snarls at your troops, but it doesn’t seem scared. It seems angry. Very angry. It opens its mouth and unleashes a devastating fireball, obliterating everything in its path. You see the fireball coming towards you, and you realize that you have made a grave mistake. This is not just any dragon. This is the dragon that has been living in your mind before, giving you advices, and acting has your friend. It had known better than your parents, your friends even yourself. It knew everything about you - your strengths, your weaknesses, your fears, your hopes. It knew how to manipulate you - how to make you trust it, how to make you follow it, how to make you love it. It knew how to betray you - how to lure you into a trap, how to expose you to danger, how to destroy you. It was never your friend - it was your enemy. And now, it has come to finish what it started. You feel a blast of heat on your face, and you close your eyes. You hear a deafening explosion in your ears, and you scream. You feel a sharp pain in your chest, and you fall. You hit the ground hard, and everything goes black.// //You open your eyes slowly, and see nothing but smoke and ash. You try to move, but feel nothing but pain and numbness. You try to speak, but hear nothing but silence and ringing. You are alive - barely. But you wish you were dead. You look around you, and see nothing but carnage and death. You see the remains of your camp - tents burned to cinders, weapons melted to slag, supplies scattered to dust. You see the bodies of your troops - charred beyond recognition, twisted in agony, lifeless and still. You see the face of the dragon - smirking with satisfaction, triumphant and proud. You feel a surge of anger and hatred in your heart. You curse the dragon with every word you know. You curse yourself for being so foolish and naive. You curse fate for being so cruel and unfair. You wonder why this had to happen - why you had to lose everything you cared about - why you had to suffer so much pain and sorrow. You wonder what you did wrong - what mistake you made - what sin you committed. You wonder if there is any meaning or purpose to this madness - if there is any justice or mercy in this world - if there is any hope or salvation for this soul. You wonder if there is anyone who cares about you - anyone who misses you - anyone who loves you. You think of James - your best friend since childhood - who always stood by your side through thick and thin - who always made you laugh with his jokes and stories - who always shared his dreams and fears with you. //You remember how he joined you on this quest - how he believed in your cause - how he trusted in your leadership. //You remember how he fought bravely by your side - how he saved your life more than once - how he risked his own for yours. // //You remember how he collapsed to the ground - how he screamed and sobbed in agony - how he bled from his wounds and how you stabbed his heart to end his misery. [[Continue|Prolugue 3]]

//You stand amidst the aftermath of a nightmare, the festive air replaced by a scene of desolation. The battlefield bears witness to the horrors of war - smoke hangs thick in the air, carrying the stench of burning flesh that invades your senses. Lifeless bodies of your fallen comrades lie scattered around you, their contorted forms a haunting testament to the agony they endured. Their screams echo in your mind, tormenting you as you survey the grim tableau before you. Something vile lingers, a malevolent presence that seems to whisper cruelly within your mind. Your fellow soldiers' equipment has disappeared, leaving only charred remains that defy recognition, their once-human features twisted and blackened. In the midst of the chaos, the voice taunts you, a cruel laughter that pierces your soul. "How could you be so foolish to challenge me?" it jeers, causing a shiver to run down your spine. As the smoke begins to clear, you see two glowing red orbs emerge, heralding the arrival of the monstrous beast that now stands before you. The dragon's scales shimmer in a menacing red hue, and the smoke billows from its flared nostrils. Horns on its tips add to its nightmarish countenance. ''//Monstrous, Terrifying, Nightmare Made Material//'' The creature's gaze bores into you, full of hunger and malice. Despite the terror welling up within you, you push it aside, your resolve unwavering. Your fallen comrades, your kingdom - they all depend on your strength to keep fighting. Grief and rage churn within you as you struggle to remain standing, your legs trembling beneath the weight of the catastrophe. Clenching your sword's hilt, you force yourself to face the dragon, though your voice wavers. "I will end your terror, beast!" you shout, determination mingling with uncertainty. The dragon's lips curl into a wicked grin as it leans closer, its scorching breath washing over your face. "Are you afraid of dying?" its low growl reverberates, seeking to unnerve you. "Why should you be afraid of death? Aren't you the hero foretold in prophecy, the one destined to vanquish me?" it taunts, its words cutting through your thoughts like a sharp blade. You grit your teeth, refusing to let fear paralyze you completely. As your hands shake, you will yourself to stand taller, holding your sword steady despite your trembling. You hope the dragon can't sense the terror emanating from your body, the cold sweat that beads on your skin. "Ahhh, the smell of dread!" the dragon hisses, its head lowering until its slitted eyes meet yours. The pupils constrict, sizing you up like a predator assessing its prey. In that moment, you recognize an opportunity. Perhaps you can exploit the dragon's arrogance, use its confidence against it. Your heart pounds in your chest as you contemplate your next move. You consider lunging forward and aiming for the dragon's unblinking eye, hoping it might be its vulnerability. Yet, as you stare into the dragon's smug expression, you can't help but feel insignificant in its immense presence. Its colossal body looms before you, a formidable adversary you can't ignore. You ponder the enigmatic nature of its actions, wondering why it hasn't attacked you already. "Why is it not eating you right now?" you find yourself blurting out, curiosity mingling with trepidation. The dragon's glowing eyes lock onto yours, a glimmer of something beyond its malevolence. Is there a flicker of recognition in its gaze, a hint of complexity beneath the facade of a monstrous predator? The creature let out a laugh that shook the earth beneath your feet. "You know, I could ask the same thing," it said with a smirk, a burst of flame erupting from its mouth.// [[Continue|Prolugue 4]]

You stand before the dragon, feeling its hot breath on your face. Its tongue flicks out, licking its serrated teeth as it examines you with its piercing eyes. It raises its head, showing you its gaping maw and giving you no comfort. You feel like a mouse under the gaze of a cat, as if the dragon is toying with you before it pounces. You wonder what it sees in you, what it wants from you. “So tell me, little mouse,” it says, its voice deep and cold. “Are we not alike?” It pauses, waiting for your answer with a calm that belies its hunger. You recognize these words, for you have heard them many times before. They are the words of villains who try to justify their wicked deeds and tempt you to join their twisted cause. You muster your courage and speak with defiance. “I am a protector who saves lives, and you are a monster who takes them!” you cry out, taking a step forward. You feel the dust under your feet, the remnants of the battle that brought you here. The dragon pays no heed to your scorn and continues to speak of its philosophy. “On the contrary, my dear,” it says, its voice grating on your ears. “We both kill to satisfy our desires and needs.” You lash out in anger, swinging your arm in a futile gesture. How dare it compare you to this abomination? “I kill only to protect!” you yell, your heart pounding with a mix of rage and fear. The dragon smiles, revealing rows of gleaming teeth that could tear you apart in an instant. Its eyes glow like coals, their intensity unsettling as they bore into you. Its scales shimmer with a rich, golden hue, each one reflecting the light of the fires that surround you. “Then tell me,” the dragon leans in closer, “have you not killed animals?” You clench your teeth, your desperation creeping into your voice. “Yes, but only for survival, for sustenance!” The dragon’s judgment weighs heavy on you, its massive form looming over you like a dark storm cloud. “And what of the people you have killed?” the dragon asks, its voice rising with excitement. “They were invaders and killers!” you reply with conviction, your voice firm. But as you speak, doubt begins to gnaw at you. Were these people truly evil, or had you blindly followed your own beliefs without questioning them? Your voice falters, and the nagging voice in your mind grows louder. To you, they were nothing but trespassers, threatening the peace and safety of your land. “Are you sure?” the dragon asks with a low, menacing voice, its mouth forming a terrifying grin that exposes its deadly teeth. You feel a chill run down your spine as you recall the faces of those you have slain. You remember their screams, their blood, their pleas for mercy. You remember how you felt nothing but hatred and contempt for them. You remember how you justified your actions as righteous and noble. But now, as you face this dragon, you wonder if you were wrong. You wonder if you were the monster all along. "Are you sure?" the dragon's taunting question sends chills down your spine. //Anger and determination etch themselves on your face as you confront the dragon, knowing it relishes tormenting you and planting seeds of doubt in your mind. Your voice, usually strong and resolute, falters, leaving you struggling to find words that seem to evade you like a fleeting shadow. "I'm sure!" you tried to say, but the words stuck in your throat like a lump of coal. You attempted to speak again, to force the words out, but all that escaped was a strangled gasp. Your mouth felt dry and parched, your tongue heavy and clumsy. It was as if your mind and mouth were no longer in sync. The dragon roars with laughter, its thunderous voice reverberating across the desolate battlefield, causing the ground to tremble beneath your feet. The mirth in the dragon's eyes only fuels your anger, its wicked smile twisting like a knife in your gut. It takes pleasure in your vulnerability, mocking your lack of response and making you question your convictions. "Looks like you're not so different from me after all!" the dragon roared with laughter, its deep and booming voice echoing through the scorched battlefield. The ground trembled beneath you from the rumble of its laughter. The dragon's eyes sparkled with mirth, its mouth twisted into a wicked smile. You could see the amusement in its gaze, the twisted pleasure it took in your lack of words and helplessness.. The creature towers over you, its scales glinting in the sun like jewels. Its eyes narrow, and it snorts a plume of smoke from its nostrils. "Give up now, little mouse," it sneers. "You'll never defeat me." Anger surges inside you, and you rasp out, "I'll never give up!" Though your voice is small and strained, it carries a fierce determination that even the dragon can't ignore. It laughs again. "I admire your tenacity, human. But it won't save you." You grit your teeth and grip your sword tightly, steeling yourself for battle. Memories of happier times flood your mind, reminding you of all the things you're fighting for. You remember the feel of the sun on your face, the smell of freshly cut grass, the sound of laughter and love. You remember the people you would lay down your life to protect, and your resolve hardens. The dragon's wings unfurl, sending a powerful gust of wind barreling toward you. You braced yourself, standing firm against the tempestuous onslaught. You feel the hot breath of the dragon on your skin, making you flinch. Its talons scrape against the ground, and you know it's about to attack. “You still think you can defeat me, little one?” it taunted, its voice deep and resonant, like thunder. “You still cling to your foolish ideals, your misguided beliefs, your false hopes? You still dare to oppose me, the lord of fire, the master of destruction, the king of dragons?” You tried to answer, to shout back at the beast, to defy its arrogance and cruelty. But your just to exhausted to talk beliefs with this creature. You felt a cold sweat on your brow, a tightness in your chest, a weakness in your limbs. You were exhausted, wounded, and outnumbered. You had fought bravely, but you had lost. “Are you sure you are on the right side of this war?” it asked, mockingly. “Are you sure you are not fighting for a lost cause? Are you sure you are not wasting your life for a lie?” You felt a surge of anger at its words, at its insinuation that you were wrong. But you also felt a pang of uncertainty, a nagging question that haunted you. Had you been wrong? Had you been deceived? Had you been fighting for nothing? You closed your eyes, trying to block out the dragon’s voice. You tried to remember why you had joined this war, why you had taken up arms against the dragons. You tried to recall the faces of your friends, your comrades, your loved ones. You tried to relive the moments of joy, of laughter, of peace. You remembered the smell of fresh bread in the morning, the taste of sweet wine in the evening, the sound of music and singing in the night. You remembered the warmth of a hug, the comfort of a kiss, the tenderness of a touch. You remembered the beauty of nature, the wonder of art, the magic of stories. You remembered all these things, and more. And you realized that they were worth fighting for. They were worth living for. They were worth dying for. You opened your eyes again, and looked at the dragon with renewed determination. You felt a fire in your heart, a strength in your spirit, a courage in your soul. You were not afraid anymore. You were ready to face your destiny. You gripped your sword tightly in your hand, feeling its familiar shape and weight. It was an ancient blade, forged by the finest smiths of old. It was imbued with magic and power, with light and hope. It was your weapon, your ally, your friend. You barrel toward the dragon with unbridled determination. You don't let the inferno surrounding the dragon stop you and press on, your eyes locked on your opponent. The dragon lowers its head, unleashing a torrent of searing flames that shoots toward you like a comet. You flick your wrist, and your sword blazes to life, illuminating the battlefield with a blinding radiance. The dragon's fiery assault is no match for your blade. You swing with precision and purpose, deflecting the flames with ease. With every step, you close in on the dragon, the heat of the flames scorching your skin. But you refuse to back down. Your eyes burn with a fierce determination as you seek to put an end to the dragon's reign of terror once and for all. "Die, human!" the dragon roars, unleashing another round of flames. You dodge the flames with ease, your body moving on instinct. You can feel the weight of the sword in your hand, comforting and familiar. The dragon snarls, showing its teeth, and lunges toward you. You swing your sword with all your might, heading straight to the beast gaping maw. [[Continue|Prolugue 5]]

"And cliffhanger!"your eyes scan the screen, taking in the progress you've made on your Interactive Fiction goals with a sense of pride and accomplishment. The clacking of your keyboard has become a comforting background noise, like the steady hum of a far-off waterfall. Reaching for your mouse, you make some finishing touches, adjusting the formatting and adding final details to make the story shine. With a deep breath, you hit the "save" button, watching as the progress bar fills up before finally disappearing. You slam your laptop shut with a flourish, feeling a rush of adrenaline as you finish the last sentence of your IF story. You have been working on it for hours, pouring your heart and soul into every word, every choice, every twist and turn. You have created a masterpiece, a thrilling tale of adventure, romance, and betrayal. You have left your readers on the edge of their seats, with a cliffhanger that will make them beg for more. You stretch your arms above your head, letting out a satisfied sigh as you hear the satisfying crackle of your joints. You glance at the clock on your wall, noticing that it’s almost time for dinner. You decide to take a break from your writing and join your parents downstairs. You grab your notepad from your desk, where you have scribbled some notes for the next chapter of your story. You read them aloud, as if rehearsing for a presentation. “//In this part the MC will continue to fight the dragon they have unleashed on the world due to believing in the dragon’s word that it will help MC but tricked them to freeing it from its prison, the dragon as revenge killed and destroyed everything that MC held dear.//” You smile to yourself, feeling proud of your plot and characters. You can’t wait to share your story with your followers on Rumblr, where you have gained a loyal fanbase over the years. You know they will love your latest update, and you look forward to reading their comments and feedback. But first, you need some food and some quality time with your family. You stand up from your chair, feeling a bit stiff from sitting for so long. You walk out of your room, closing the door behind you. You head down the stairs, humming a tune under your breath. “Mom? Dad?” you call out as you reach the bottom of the stairs. You expect to hear their voices greeting you back, or at least some noise from the TV or the radio. But instead, you are met with silence. You feel a twinge of unease in your stomach, wondering where they are. You walk through the living room, noticing that it’s dark and empty. The TV is off, the couch is vacant, the coffee table is clear. It’s as if no one has been here for hours. You shrug it off, thinking that maybe they are in the kitchen or the backyard. You continue walking toward the kitchen, hoping to find them there. But as you get closer, you hear something that makes your blood run cold. It’s the sound of sobbing. You stop in your tracks, feeling a surge of panic in your chest. Who is crying? Why are they crying? What’s going on? You tiptoe toward the kitchen door, trying to be quiet and discreet. You peek through the gap between the door and the frame, hoping to see what’s happening inside. What you see makes your heart sink. Your parents are sitting at the kitchen table, holding each other in their arms. Their faces are wet with tears, their eyes red and swollen. They look like they have been crying for a long time. On the table in front of them is a cake with candles on it. It’s a birthday cake. Your birthday cake. You feel a jolt of confusion and pain in your head, as if someone had hit you with a hammer. You clutch your temples, trying to ease the throbbing ache that suddenly invades your skull. You blink several times, trying to clear your vision and make sense of what you’re seeing. [[Continue|Prolugue 6]]

Your heart pounds in your chest, echoing the chaotic events unfolding before you. The weight of fear and uncertainty presses upon you like a heavy fog, and you can't help but feel your mind splitting in two, torn between the worlds of fiction and reality. "Mom, Dad, is everything alright?" Your voice quivers with anxiety as you try to make sense of the distressing scene. But your father's response only adds to your distress, his uncontrollable weeping and pounding fists resonating through the room, rattling the very core of your being. "Why are the Gods so cruel?" His words are barely audible through his sobs, and the depth of his despair sends shivers down your spine. The sense of deja vu adds an eerie layer to the already bewildering moment, as if you've been trapped in this nightmarish scenario before, unable to break free from its clutches. As you plead for your parents to help, they remain engulfed in their sorrow, seemingly oblivious to your cries. The feeling of isolation and helplessness overwhelms you, intensifying the agony within. Then, an unbearable pain seizes your body, twisting and contorting it in unimaginable ways. Your bones pop and crack, protruding from your skin with sickening discomfort. The sensation of your face scraping against rough surfaces sends waves of torment through you, and a blood-curdling scream escapes your lips, drowned out by the agonizing anguish you endure. You struggle to move, but your body no longer obeys your will. It betrays you, its once familiar form now warped beyond recognition. Your senses are overwhelmed by the pain, your vision blurring as you find yourself on the cold, hard floor, listening to your parents' tearful cries for you. In a moment of desperate escape, your eyes flutter open, gasping for air and trying to make sense of the darkness surrounding you. Your body floats in the abyss, breathing erratic as you try to find some semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos. Desperation drives you to focus on one sensation, pinching your skin together with your fingers, clinging to any thread of reality you can grasp. The darkness envelopes you, and you feel like a tiny speck adrift in an endless void, the haunting echoes of your parents' cries still ringing in your ears. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to shut out the horrors that lurk in this unfamiliar landscape. Your body is battered, and you yearn for the comfort of your own bed, for the warmth of the sun that streams through your windows each morning. But even as you pinch harder, the pain only serves as a reminder of how far from home you really are. Your skin reddens and welt under the pressure, as if protesting against this cruel and senseless existence. With a heavy heart, you open your eyes once more to the endless expanse before you. You feel lost and alone, with no clear direction or purpose. The only thing you know for certain is that this nightmare shows no signs of ending anytime soon. You begin to reminisce about the good times, the happy memories, hoping to find some solace in the recollection of these moments. Your mind drifts into the past, and you remember the smell of freshly-baked bread that would fill your home each morning. You remember the sound of your mother's laughter and the warmth of her embrace. You remember the times spent with your friends, the jokes, and the endless laughter, and it brings a smile to your face. Suddenly, a voice pierces the void, gentle yet commanding, radiating power that makes you recoil slightly. "Welcome!" it speaks, breaking the silence with an otherworldly cadence. "Oh! I've been a terrible host, I apologize!" The mysterious voice apologizes for its apparent oversight, and with a snap of its fingers, the atmosphere shifts. The dark void begins to transform, swirling with a mesmerizing combination of gray and light blue, disorienting you further. In an instant, you find yourself lifted off the ground, suspended in mid-air. Weightless and adrift, you're at the mercy of the shifting surroundings. But as quickly as it began, the sensation ends, and you plummet back to the ground. The impact jars your senses, leaving you disoriented and dazed. Yet, the enigmatic voice carries on, seemingly unperturbed by your state. Amidst the dizziness, the voice's excitement is palpable as it introduces itself. A bright light surrounds you, intensifying the disorientation. You instinctively shield your eyes, the brilliance overwhelming. As the light begins to fade, a faint figure takes shape before you, the source of the mysterious voice becoming visible. You wait with bated breath for the introduction to begin, eager to understand this enigmatic being. "My name is Luceille, The Goddess Of Life," it declares, the voice now warm and friendly. "It's very nice to meet you!" [[Continue|Prologue 7]]

You stare in disbelief at the figure that emerges from the light. It’s a woman, or at least something that resembles one. She has long, flowing hair that shimmers with every color of the rainbow. Her eyes are bright and sparkling, and her smile is warm and inviting. She wears a simple white dress that flows around her slender body, and a golden crown that rests on her forehead. She looks like an angel, a being of pure light and beauty. But she claims to be something more, something beyond your comprehension. A goddess, the creator of life itself. You feel a surge of emotions as you gaze at her. Fear, awe, curiosity, anger, confusion. You don’t know what to think, what to say, what to do. You wonder if this is some kind of elaborate prank, or a hallucination, or a dream. You wonder if you’re still alive, or if you’ve died and gone to some strange afterlife. As the voice resonates through the dimly-lit space, a mesmerizing figure takes shape before you. At first, she appears as a mere outline, a shimmering silhouette that gradually comes into focus. The illumination reveals a woman of ethereal beauty and grace, her tall figure exuding an aura of power and magnificence. Her hair cascades like liquid gold, catching the faint light and adding to her divine allure. Her eyes, bright and sparkling, seem to hold a universe of wisdom within their depths, and her presence radiates an otherworldly glow that captivates your senses. The goddess chuckles warmly, the sound echoing with a melodic cadence that tugs at your heartstrings. "Oops, I forgot how small you humans are," she playfully remarks, her voice as soothing as a gentle breeze. "Let me remedy that!" With a wave of her hand, she begins to shrink, her grand form diminishing until she stands before you at a height that feels more comfortable and relatable. The sight of this majestic deity standing before you leaves you in awe, your heart pounding with both reverence and curiosity. It's not every day that one encounters a powerful being who can command the very essence of life, and the reality of this divine presence fills you with wonder. She regards you with a warm and knowing smile, her eyes holding a depth of understanding that seems to pierce through your soul. "How about you? May I know your name?" she inquires, her tone genuinely curious and friendly. The question leaves you momentarily dumbfounded - how can a goddess not know your name? But then again, perhaps in the grand scheme of the cosmos, your existence is but a fleeting moment. <<textbox "$player_name" "Enter Name" "What's my name?">> (Note: After inputting your name, don't press enter but instead press the link instead.) [[What's My Name?]]

You stand in wonder before the goddess, your heart pounding in your chest as you plead with her. "But why can’t I remember... most of my memories?" you ask, your voice cracking with emotion. "I feel them in my reach and at the same time drifting away from me!" She stops walking and looks at you with a deep understanding. "It is only natural that you don’t remember!" she says slowly and places a hand on your shoulder. "You see, most of those who awaken here don’t remember their past lives because that’s the price of a second life - your past memories!" She gestures to a large, oval-shaped mirror off to the side. "But fret not, we are not that cruel to just tell you all your memories. With a graceful gesture, she directs your attention towards a large, oval-shaped mirror that stands nearby. "But fret not," she continues, "we are not so cruel as to simply tell you all your memories. You know what they say – showing is better than telling!" The mirror begins to shine brightly, its soft glow captivating you. A deep curiosity wells up inside you, and you find yourself drawn to the mirror, wondering what secrets it holds. As you take a step closer, the images in the mirror start to come into focus, and you feel an inexplicable connection to it. The mirror seems to beckon you, inviting you to peer into its depths and explore the memories it contains. In the mirror, scenes from your past life unfold before your eyes. You see yourself as a child, laughing and playing with friends in a sunlit meadow. The scent of wildflowers fills your nostrils, and the warm breeze caresses your skin, transporting you back to that carefree time. Next, the mirror shows you moments of joy and love with your family, their faces beaming with happiness as you celebrate milestones together. The aroma of home-cooked meals fills the air, and the sound of laughter echoes in your ears. But the mirror doesn't shy away from showing the difficult times too. You witness moments of heartache, loss, and struggles that you faced with unwavering determination. The emotions overwhelm you as you relive those painful memories, and tears well up in your eyes. ''//(Note: You be taken to a new page so that you can customize your pronouns and gender.)//'' [[Continue|custom]]

?mcThey stare at the ceiling, lost in thought. A pencil rests below ?mctheir chin, as if waiting for you to resume your writing. But you can’t seem to find the words to continue your story. What was it about again? You glance at the paper on ?mctheir desk, hoping to jog your memory. You see a title in bold letters: “Dragon’s Edged”. A surge of emotion fills you as you recall the plot of your fantasy novel. You remember the characters, the setting, the conflict, the twists and turns. You remember the hours you spent crafting every scene, every dialogue, every detail. You smile as you pick up the pencil again, feeling a new wave of inspiration and motivation. You decide to finish your masterpiece today, no matter what. You scribble down some notes, then start typing on your keyboard. The words flow from your mind to your fingers, as if guided by some divine force. You are immersed in your own world, oblivious to everything else. The memories flood in, and emotions swirl around you like a tempest. You recall moments of intense concentration, erasing and rewriting in your notebook, seeking perfection in your craft. At times, frustration sets in, and you might find yourself lying on your bed, tears dampening your pillow. Yet, the memories also evoke moments of triumph and joy. You remember the joy and pride you felt when you shared your work with your friends, and the feedback they gave you. Some praised you, some encouraged you, some criticized you. But they all agreed on one thing: your story was original and intriguing. "I'm an IF writer!" you exclaim in surprise as the pieces of your past life fit together like a puzzle. Your mind drifts back to the memories of the past, the emotions overtaking you. You remember the good times in vivid detail - the smell of fresh ink, the feel of the paper beneath your pen, the sound of your own voice as you read aloud. Every detail, every sensory aid, every aspect of the scene is burned into your mind. As you continue to write, you mix dialogue with action to immerse your readers in the scene. You lean close, your eyes darting to your side, your body taut and tensed. The voice that emerges from your lips is filled with emotion and passion. The scene unfolds before you, the words flowing onto the page with ease. You conjure up vivid images in the reader's mind, describing the surroundings and the mood with strong verbs and descriptive language. "Yes," Luceille affirms with a jovial tone, chuckling. "You are a writer, and an interesting one at that. Believe me when I say the premise of your story has caught the attention of the gods!" You turn your head toward the goddess, disbelief etched on your face. "Wait, I have a fan who's a powerful god?" you ask, your eyes widening in astonishment. Luceille's laughter rings through the space. "Oh, calling him a fan would be an understatement. He's more like a devoted follower, and he can't stop praising your work. If he knew you were here right now, he'd be worshiping you!" The irony of a god worshiping your talent isn't lost on you, and you smirk at the thought. In response, Luceille mirrors your smirk. "Oh, believe me!" she says, her eyes sparkling with amusement. You find yourself momentarily lost in thought, processing the idea of a god being a loyal follower of your writing. "Looks like I made quite an impression, then!" you say, a sense of pride creeping into your voice. The goddess nods, a playful glint in her eyes. "Indeed, you did!" she says, her laughter blending with the mysteries of the realm around you. Lucielle’s laughter fades as she adopts a solemn and serious expression. She looks at you with a mixture of curiosity and pity. “Well, now that you have remembered that you are a writer, there is more to see,” she says. “And don’t worry, you have all the time you need.” She gestures to the mirror, which reflects your image with a captivating glow. You nod at her and turn your attention to the mirror, feeling a strange attraction to it. Suddenly, you feel a pull on your hands, as if the mirror is sucking you in. You gasp and try to resist, but it’s too late. You see your hands disappearing into the mirror, followed by your arms. “What’s happening?” you cry out, looking at Lucielle for help. She smiles reassuringly and says: “Don’t be afraid, nothing bad will happen to you. You are just going to take a trip down memory lane.” You feel a surge of panic and confusion, as you wonder what she means by that. You take a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. You smell the familiar scent of your room, a blend of paper, ink, and dust. You hear the faint sound of your computer fan, humming in the background. You open your eyes and see that your torso has vanished and your head is slowly being drawn into the mirror. You feel a cold sensation on your face, as if you are diving into water. “Remember, you will be watching your life before your very eyes!” Lucielle shouts, her voice fading away. ''//Then everything goes dark.//'' You blink and find yourself in your room again. But something is different. You notice that the room is messier than usual, with clothes piled up on one side, crumpled paper littering the floor, and a wet stain on your bed that you don’t want to know the origin of. “Am I this messy and disorganized?” you ask yourself, shocked by the sight. You look around and see that everything is slightly blurry and transparent, as if you are in a dream. You realize that you are not really there, but only observing. You hear footsteps outside your door, and then it opens. A figure walks in, heading towards you. It’s you! Or rather, your past self. “Hey, watch out!” you yell instinctively, expecting a collision. But nothing happens. Your past self walks right through you, as if you are not there. You feel a chill run down your spine. "I'm really dead," you state, both shocked and amused by the realization. You touch yourself, feeling the solidness of your own body on your palms, confirming that you are indeed a specter of the past. Lost in your introspection, you suddenly hear your past-self shout in victory. They dance around with enthusiasm, celebrating some achievement, and you cringe at the sight. "Do I dance like that?" you exclaim in horror, not knowing whether to feel pity or disgust for your past-self. You can't believe that you passed away only to witness your former-self's rather embarrassing dance moves. ?Mcthey then proceeds to do an embarrassing victory dance around the room, waving ?mctheir arms and legs in the air like a madman. You stare at ?mcthemself in horror and disbelief. You can’t believe that this is how you celebrated one of the most important moments of your life. You wish you could look away from this spectacle, but you can’t. You are forced to watch as ?mcthey continues to make a fool of ?mcthemself, unaware of the irony and tragedy of ?mctheir situation. “Naisu!” You watch as your past self celebrates ?mctheir achievement with a loud exclamation and a click of the mouse. You feel a pang of curiosity and move closer to the laptop, hoping to see what ?mcthey has done. You see that ?mcthey has opened your Rumblr account, the platform where you posted your interactive fiction game, “Dragon’s Edged”. You see that your followers have increased exponentially, from 2 to 5, then to 10, then to 30, then to hundreds, then to thousands. As you hover over the Rumblr account, your heart races with excitement. The room feels smaller, the air heavier as you click on the followers tab. Two faces smile back at you, and your past-self jumps with excitement. "Alright! I'm getting famous!" You can't help but smile ruefully, recalling the youthful joy and innocence that once filled you. The memories flood back, and you find yourself lost in thought. You take a seat, and as you do, the familiar feeling of old armrests grazes your skin. You close your eyes and breathe in the musk of stale energy drinks and pop music that once filled your workspace. Suddenly, a notification pings, jarring you from your reverie. Excited, you click it open and find a deluge of messages from followers. "When will the demo come out?" a dragon avatar inquires. "I can't wait, your characters are amazing!" a cheerful cat girl trills. And then a thought-provoking one: "How will the ROs react to MC treating them to dinner?" a curious flower avatar muses. The questions continue pouring in, and soon, tears begin to stream down your cheeks, unbidden. You feel tears of joy streaming down your cheeks, as you realize that all your hard work and dedication have paid off. You have achieved your dream of becoming a successful writer. You have touched the hearts and minds of countless people with your story. But you also feel tears of sorrow, as you realize that this time has passed and that you are dead. You will never be able to answer their questions, thank them for their support, or share more of your story with them. You will never be able to enjoy the fruits of your labor. Your friends and family, they are just artifacts of the past, forever lost and unreachable. You did not have the chance to say goodbye to them, or tell them how much you love them. The sound of your own voice startles you, ringing out in the empty void. "Good times," you whisper, full of remorse. You recall the long hours and sleepless nights, fueled by energy drinks and a burning passion for your work. You remember the grind: drawing the cover art, writing the blog post, and crafting the perfect synopsis. All those moments, now frozen in time, contribute to the culmination of this very moment. A voice beside you suddenly speaks, startling you out of your thoughts. "You know, it's not all bad." You turn to see a figure beside you, hazy and indistinct. It's your very own protagonist, appearing before you as if plucked from the pages of your creation. "You created a world," they say, smiling wistfully. "A world of your own making, where anything you wanted to happen, could happen." It takes a moment for their words to register, but once they do, you smile. Perhaps your work will live on long after you are gone - perhaps these characters and their stories will inspire others, just as they once inspired you. You are abruptly teleported to a new scene, a stark contrast to the previous one. You find yourself on a busy street, with cars honking and people rushing by. The sun is shining bright and there is not a single cloud in the sky. You hear your own voice behind you and you turn around. You see that your past self is eating ice cream and talking to someone on the phone. It’s your mom. You recognize her voice and her words. “Yes Mom, I won’t forget to bring Dad’s birthday cake!” your past-self says, smiling happily. “Yup, I remember his favorite flavor: black forest. I’m heading to the cake store right now!” your past self says and continues talking to the phone. You feel a surge of affection and nostalgia, as you remember how close you were with your parents. You remember how they supported you in your writing career, how they encouraged you to follow your passion, how they celebrated every milestone with you. You wish you could hug them and tell them how much you appreciate them. You wish you could be there for your dad’s birthday. You wish you could live another day with them. But before you can say anything, you see something that makes your blood run cold. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch sight of a little girl playing with a beach ball on the sidewalk. She is wearing a pink dress and has blonde hair tied in pigtails. She looks happy and carefree. You feel an eerie sense of déjà vu, as you recognize her from somewhere. You realize that she is the same girl who was involved in the accident that killed you. You watch in horror as she throws the ball into the air, only to watch it sail away from her grasp and roll to the street, where a car is quickly speeding closer. [[Watch in interest]] [[Save the girl]]

You will not stand by and let a little girl be flattened on the ground like a pancake, so you quickly rush to the little girl’s location, still running and adrenaline pumping in your veins, which is weird to say the least because well you’re dead. But someone beat you to the punch. “HEY WATCH OUT!” your voice but not your own shouts to your side and you see your past self running beside you and passing you by, then ?mcthey proceeded to hoist the girl and throw it back to the safety of the sidewalk. You spot the girl safe, yet your stomach lurches when you see the car coming closer, your body stiff with terror like a deer caught in the headlights. Your past self is struck with incredible force, your body sent flying through the air like a rag doll. Hitting the asphalt ground with a sickening thud, your bones crunching as they collide with the hard surface. Your body slides along the ground, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. You can hear the sound of the car’s engine as it grinds to a halt.The driver rushes out of the car, screaming in panic as they realize what has happened. But it’s too late,You’re already gone, your body lying lifeless on the ground. Getting closer, you see your face is unrecognizable being dragged on the asphalt, bones sticking out of your body and twist in a strange way. “So that’s it, I died on the birthday of my father!” you say in a somber tone and emotions overwhelming you. You started to sink to your knees, ignoring the people around you, you remember now. As you made your way from work to the cake shop, the familiar feeling of dread settled in your stomach and you knew that instead of cake, your dad would receive your lifeless body. “WHY?” you shout to the unfair fates in the sky, you die but the girl lived her life, you lost your time but the girl has time to waste. Your grief was so strong that it sucked the energy from your body, slowly fading away until you were nothing more than dust and returning to the goddess’ world. The floor turned into gray and a mix of blue and you heard the voice of Lucielle conversing with someone. “Well it looks like ?mcthey have returned.” you kept your gaze fixed on the ground, your mind still consumed by the tragic memories of your past life. Lucielle's nonchalant response to your grief didn't offer much comfort, and you struggled to find solace in the face of such an abrupt and unfair end to your existence. “So just like that, huh? All it takes is for me to die because some careless parent let their child play on the street!” You bow your head and rest your hands on the cold ground. A bitter laugh escapes your lips as you contemplate your fate. Is this the reward for your noble deed? To die on a dirty street, crushed by a speeding car, while saving a child you never knew? You lift your gaze and stare at the sky, searching for some sign of justice or mercy. “Yes, just like that!” “Indeed, just like that!” Lucielle replies coldly, as if reading your thoughts and not being helpful whatsoever. “But do not despair, for your sacrifice has not been in vain. You have earned a second chance at life, as a token of gratitude for saving that girl!” she continues, waving her hand towards the other figure who has joined her. He is bouncing on his toes, barely containing his excitement. He looks like he belongs in a party, not in this grim scene “NO WAY, IT’S REALLY YOU!” a new voice pierced through your thoughts, filled with unmistakable excitement. Lucielle had mentioned her brother, Lucian, but you hadn't paid much attention, too preoccupied with your own emotions. But now, his fervent exclamation caught your attention, and you raised your head to finally look at him. Lucian's appearance was awe-inspiring, befitting that of a god. His presence commanded attention, and his energy seemed boundless. Your eyes scanned him from head to toe, taking in every detail of his divine form. He emanated an aura of youthful exuberance, and his eyes sparkled with admiration as they locked onto you. Appraising Lucian, you heard Lucille speak up. “Also, he’s the god I’m pertaining to. You know your fan and follower!” she says and rolling her eyes. Lucian's sudden movement caught you off guard, as he approached you in the blink of an eye. He seemed to be completely unrestrained, his energy palpable as he practically vibrated with excitement. "Great author," he gushed, his voice laced with reverence. "I'm honored to finally meet you face to face!" Your heart skipped a beat, feeling a mix of surprise and humility at his enthusiastic praise. It was surreal to be regarded with such reverence, especially after facing the cold reality of your own mortality. But as you remained on your knees, still grappling with the situation, Lucielle intervened. With a simple gesture, she brought Lucian back to reality, reminding him of social decorum. Her voice was gentle yet firm, coaxing him to introduce himself properly and giving you a moment to collect yourself. "Tell us a bit about yourself, Lucian," she prompted, her words coaxing a sense of curiosity in you. "Your favorite author would like to get to know you better." Lucian immediately straightened up, realizing his momentary lapse in manners. He touched his forehead lightly, as if to chide himself for his excitement. "Of course, you're right," he said, his voice now more composed but still tinged with enthusiasm. "Where are my manners?" [[Continue|Prologue 9]]

You stand frozen, watching the scene unfold before your eyes. It is a memory, a flashback, a nightmare. You know what is going to happen, but you are powerless to stop it. You feel a pang of guilt as you see the girl dart into the street, oblivious to the danger. You should save her, you should act, you should do something. But you don’t. You tell yourself it’s pointless, it’s already done, it’s just a memory. But then, you hear a familiar voice shout from your side. “HEY WATCH OUT!” You turn your head and see yourself running past you, your face determined and heroic. You see yourself reach the girl and hoist her up, throwing her back to the safety of the sidewalk. You see yourself smile briefly, relieved that she is okay. But your relief is short-lived. Before you can react, a car comes speeding towards you. It is a red sedan, driven by a middle-aged man who looks distracted and careless. He doesn’t see you until it is too late. He slams on the brakes, but he can’t stop in time. You feel a surge of pain as the car hits you with full force. Your body is flung into the air like a ragdoll, spinning and twisting in a grotesque ballet. You hear the crunch of your bones as they shatter on impact, the spray of your blood as it splatters on the windshield, the thud of your flesh as it lands on the asphalt. You lie on the ground, motionless and mangled. Your body is broken beyond repair, your face unrecognizable. Your eyes are wide open, staring blankly at nothing. The driver gets out of the car, his face pale and horrified. He runs towards you, screaming and sobbing. He kneels down beside you and shakes your body, hoping for some sign of life. But there is none. You are dead. You watch from a distance, detached and numb. You see the crowd gather around you, their faces shocked and appalled. You hear the sirens in the distance, getting closer and closer. But they are irrelevant. Nothing can save you now. You sink to your knees, feeling a wave of emptiness wash over you. You have just witnessed your own death, and it was brutal and unfair. You gave up your life for a stranger, a child who will never know your name or your story. You had so much to live for, so much to do and say. But now, all of that is gone. Your grief erupted in a primal scream as you looked up at the sky, questioning the fates that had dealt you such a cruel hand. "Why?" you yelled, your voice echoing into the void. It felt as though the world had turned against you, robbing you of your precious time while the girl who had caused the accident lived on, oblivious to the impact she had caused. The intensity of your emotions drained your energy, leaving you feeling depleted and hollow. It was as if your very essence was slowly fading away, dissipating into the air like dust. The surroundings around you shifted, the floor turning a dull shade of gray, while hints of blue and mixed hues swirled around you. You could hear the faint sound of Lucielle's voice, engaged in conversation with someone, but it felt distant, like a distant echo. As you faded into the realm of the goddess, your soul felt heavy with sorrow and the unanswered questions of why your life had been cut short. The world around you blurred, and you were enveloped in a sense of loss, knowing that your time had come to an abrupt end, leaving you with a profound sense of longing and a sense of unfinished business. “Well it looks like ?mcthey have returned.” you kept your gaze fixed on the ground, your mind still consumed by the tragic memories of your past life. Lucielle's nonchalant response to your grief didn't offer much comfort, and you struggled to find solace in the face of such an abrupt and unfair end to your existence. “So just like that, huh? All it takes is for me to die because some careless parent let their child play on the street!” You bow your head and rest your hands on the cold ground. A bitter laugh escapes your lips as you contemplate your fate. Is this the reward for your noble deed? To die on a dirty street, crushed by a speeding car, while saving a child you never knew? You lift your gaze and stare at the sky, searching for some sign of justice or mercy. “Yes, just like that!” “Indeed, just like that!” Lucielle replies coldly, as if reading your thoughts and not being helpful whatsoever. “But do not despair, for your sacrifice has not been in vain. You have earned a second chance at life, as a token of gratitude for saving that girl!” she continues, waving her hand towards the other figure who has joined her. He is bouncing on his toes, barely containing his excitement. He looks like he belongs in a party, not in this grim scene “NO WAY, IT’S REALLY YOU!” a new voice pierced through your thoughts, filled with unmistakable excitement. Lucielle had mentioned her brother, Lucian, but you hadn't paid much attention, too preoccupied with your own emotions. But now, his fervent exclamation caught your attention, and you raised your head to finally look at him. Lucian's appearance was awe-inspiring, befitting that of a god. His presence commanded attention, and his energy seemed boundless. Your eyes scanned him from head to toe, taking in every detail of his divine form. He emanated an aura of youthful exuberance, and his eyes sparkled with admiration as they locked onto you. Appraising Lucian, you heard Lucille speak up. “Also, he’s the god I’m pertaining to. You know your fan and follower!” she says and rolling her eyes. Lucian's sudden movement caught you off guard, as he approached you in the blink of an eye. He seemed to be completely unrestrained, his energy palpable as he practically vibrated with excitement. "Great author," he gushed, his voice laced with reverence. "I'm honored to finally meet you face to face!" Your heart skipped a beat, feeling a mix of surprise and humility at his enthusiastic praise. It was surreal to be regarded with such reverence, especially after facing the cold reality of your own mortality. But as you remained on your knees, still grappling with the situation, Lucielle intervened. With a simple gesture, she brought Lucian back to reality, reminding him of social decorum. Her voice was gentle yet firm, coaxing him to introduce himself properly and giving you a moment to collect yourself. "Tell us a bit about yourself, Lucian," she prompted, her words coaxing a sense of curiosity in you. "Your favorite author would like to get to know you better." Lucian immediately straightened up, realizing his momentary lapse in manners. He touched his forehead lightly, as if to chide himself for his excitement. "Of course, you're right," he said, his voice now more composed but still tinged with enthusiasm. "Where are my manners?" [[Continue|Prologue 9]]

You rub your eyes, wondering if you are dreaming or hallucinating. A man stands before you, his presence filling the air with a palpable force. He is tall and handsome, with brown hair and amber eyes that sparkle with mischief and joy. He wears a white robe that seems to shimmer like glitter but his demeanor is anything but formal. He acts like a child who has just met his hero, and you can’t help but feel a mix of curiosity and apprehension. The man introduces himself with a casual grin, his thumb pointing to his chest. “So hello, my name is Lucian and I’m the God of Fertility but you already know that!” he says, his cheeks turning red. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. You recall reading about him in your mythology books, but you never expected to meet him in person. You also recall that he is supposed to be the brother of Lucielle, the Goddess of Life, who stands next to him in a white dress. You wonder why they have chosen to reveal themselves to you, and what they want from you. You also wonder about their roles as gods. “Wait, hold on a minute,” you say, gesturing between Lucian and Lucielle. “If you’re the God of Fertility and she’s the Goddess of Life, shouldn’t it be the other way around?” Lucielle raised an elegant eyebrow, her voice tinged with accusation as she challenged your assumptions. "I see what you mean by that," she said, her tone firm, "and aren't you being a stereotype if you suggest that?" You squirm uncomfortably, feeling a flush of embarrassment rise in your cheeks. You didn’t mean to offend them, but you can’t help but notice the irony of their titles. “No, that’s not what I meant,” you stammer. Lucian, however, jumps to your defense. He puts his arm around your shoulder and shields you from Lucielle’s critical glare. “C’mon sis, don’t be like that to my idol!” he says, his voice full of enthusiasm. He turns to you and smiles warmly. “Listen, <<print $player_name>>,” he says, using your name as if he knows you personally. “Fertility is not just about women and pregnancy. Life cannot function without it. Let me show you.” He nods to his sister, who raises her hand. A beautiful flower sprouts from the ground near your feet, its petals a vibrant pink and yellow. It looks fresh and fragrant, a symbol of life and beauty. But before you can fully appreciate its splendor, the flower withers and turns to dust. “What happened?” you ask, bewildered by the sudden transformation. “Life is everywhere,” Lucielle explains, her voice calm and authoritative. “But it cannot flourish without fertility.” She raises her hand again, and this time, Lucian kneels by the flower. His hands glow with a mystical energy, and he touches the flower gently. The flower’s petals unfurl into a stunning array of yellow and purple. It looks even more beautiful than before, as if it has been reborn. As he stands up, the flower begins to grow even more. Its stem stretches higher and higher, reaching for the sky. Its petals spread wider and wider, creating a canopy of color. “That’s where I come in,” Lucian declares proudly, flexing his arms. “Fertility is like this. You can’t just accept the good and reject the bad. You need to absorb both so that you can grow high and strong.” Lucielle can’t resist teasing her brother. She leans close to him and whispers in his ear. “Are you sure about that, Lucian?” she says with a chuckle. “I think the only thing growing high and strong here is your ego!” Lucian laughs as Lucielle joins in. You feel a bit more relaxed as you see them joke around like normal siblings. You gather your courage and ask the question that’s been on your mind. “What happens now?” Your voice trembles slightly as you look at them expectantly. They exchange a glance and smile mysteriously. As Luceille raises her hands, the mirror suddenly shines bright, and new images start to play. You rise to your feet, drawn to the mirror forgetting your grief and sadness curiousty rising deep within you. The sounds of distant creatures fill your ears, and the smell of fresh earth fills your nose. As you approach the mirror, you see the image of a kingdom, its details and textures vividly depicted. "It's the Kingdom of Tiara!" you exclaim in awe, recognizing the world from your story. You hear the sounds of a bustling kingdom fill your ears: horses neighing, people chatting, bells ringing. You smell the earthy scent of nature surround you: grass growing, flowers blooming, fruits ripening. You see the world from your story come to life. "As I told you earlier, your IF has garnered a lot of attention," Luceille says, watching the image on the mirror with fascination. She pauses and adds, “Including us.” Lucian nods enthusiastically, his eyes shining with admiration. “It was my idea!” he proclaims proudly, eager to take credit for the unique arrangement. “I thought it would be the perfect way to reward you for your sacrifice and talent. To give you a chance to live in your own creation. To be the MC of your IF.” He grins widely and says, “What do you say, <<print $player_name>>? Are you ready for the adventure of a lifetime?” [[Continue|You really made a world based on my IF?]]

''//How is this possible? How is this real?//'' “You really made a world based on my IF?” you ask Lucielle, your voice trembling with shock. You glance at the mirror behind them, where images and sensations of the Kingdom of Tiara flash before your eyes. You recognize the world from your story, the world that you have created with your imagination and creativity. Lucielle shrugs nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal. “It wasn’t that difficult, really,” she says, her tone matter-of-fact. “Especially when Lucian is constantly pestering every god and goddess in the realm.” She shoots a look of annoyance at her brother, who seems oblivious to her irritation. He grins and makes a finger gun gesture at her, clearly amused by his sister’s reaction. “So how do you feel about this?” she asks you, her eyes piercing yours with curiosity. She wants to know your thoughts on their proposal, their offer, their gift. Lucian watches you intently as well, his expression holding a hint of sadness. He knows that you are conflicted, that you have doubts and fears. He knows that you are leaving behind a life that you loved, a life that was cut short by a tragic accident. You pause for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of their offer. You feel a tug of war between your head and your heart, between logic and emotion. “I’m conflicted,” you admit, your voice wavering slightly. You see Lucian’s face fall slightly, his eyes dimming with disappointment. “Don’t get me wrong,” you quickly add, trying to reassure him. “I’m flattered that you used my IF, but this is all so new and sudden. I won’t be seeing my friends and family again.” Your thoughts drift to the life you would leave behind, the people who had been a part of it, and the memories you had made with them. You think of your father’s cake shop, where you worked part-time and learned how to bake. You think of your mother’s voice, singing you lullabies when you were little and encouraging you when you were older. You think of your sibling’s embrace, comforting you when you were sad and teasing you when you were happy. You think of your friends, who shared your interests and passions. You think of your fans, who followed you faithfully and admired your work. You think of your critics, who challenged you constructively and helped you improve and grow. You feel a pang of sadness as you realize that you will never see them again, never talk to them again, never hug them again. “But then again,” you continue, a hint of optimism creeping into your voice. “I feel excited. To think that my good deed is being rewarded in this way is incredible. I just need some time to process everything.” As you speak, Lucian’s face brightens up again, his eyes shining with hope. Lucielle smiles warmly at you, pleased by your response. “It’s good to see that you have a bit of optimism,” she says kindly. "Also, Lucian will come along to help you on your journey!" Lucielle gestured to her brother, whose face immediately lit up with excitement and a hint of bashfulness at her announcement. "I want to be near you!" Lucian exclaimed, his voice filled with awe and enthusiasm. His gaze remained locked on you, a mixture of admiration and something deeper shining in his eyes. "I mean, so that I can help you, of course!" he quickly corrected himself, trying to hide the slip of emotion. But it was clear that his attachment went beyond being a mere fan, and his eagerness to support you was genuine and heartfelt. [[Well, I’m for sure that I’m in good hands!” Flirt Boldly]] [["Thanks!" Flirt Shyly]] [["Nice to have some backup!"]]

You notice the faint blush on Lucian’s cheeks despite his attempts to compose himself. You find it adorable and endearing how even a god and your biggest fan can’t hide his infatuation towards you. So, you decide to have a little fun and work your charm. “Well, I’m sure that I’m in good hands!” you say with a flirtatious tone, giving him a wink. You see his eyes widen in surprise and his mouth drop open, clearly taken aback that his idol is flirting with him. Lucielle notices his reaction and playfully chides him. “Manners, Lucian! It’s very rude to leave your mouth hanging open, especially when your idol is taking an interest in you!” She nudges him with her elbow and chuckles at his embarrassment. Lucian pouts like a child and grumbles, “Stop it, sis!”. He tries to act nonchalant, but you can tell that he’s flustered and nervous. He glances at you nervously, wondering what you think of him. You try to stifle a laugh, finding it amusing how he reacts to your teasing. You feel a spark curiosity towards him. You wonder what he’s like when he’s not shy and awkward. You lean closer to him, lowering your voice to a whisper. “Don’t worry, Lucian. I think you’re cute.” You see him blush even more, and you smile softly. Lucielle laughs for a few more seconds and then gestures towards a platform that has been inscribed with intricate runes and symbols. “So now that is cleared up, I hope you’re ready for your new journey and life!” As she waves her hand, the platform starts to glow in a beautiful blue hue, signaling the beginning of the reincarnation process. Without any hesitation, you confidently step onto the platform, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation for what’s to come. Lucian stands close by, giving you a supportive thumbs up. You nod your head, ready to embark on this new adventure. Lucielle fixes you with a stern gaze, her voice carrying a weighty seriousness. “Now whatever you do <<print $player_name>>, do not go out of this circle while I’m casting the spell or there will be severe consequences, am I clear?” You swallow hard, feeling a nervous lump forming in your throat, but you manage to respond bravely. “I understand!” As Lucielle begins to cast the spell, the room is bathed in a pulsating blue light. You feel a powerful celestial magic crackling in the air, filling your senses. At first, you feel no pain, but as the room grows hotter and hotter, your throat begins to feel parched and sweat begins to drip down your face. Suddenly, the heat turns into a searing inferno that burns both your body and soul. You begin to scream in agony, but Lucian’s voice cuts through your cries. “Be steadfast, you’re not really burning, it’s just your mind reacting to celestial magic. Concentrate <<print $player_name>>!” he shouts, his voice firm and reassuring. You try to focus on his words, but the pain is overwhelming. You feel like you’re being roasted alive over a blazing bonfire. You wonder if this is how it feels to die. You think about all the things you’ve left undone and unsaid in your life. You think about all the good times you’ve had with Lucian and Lucielle. You think about the Kingdom of Tiara that awaits you on the other side of the portal. You cling to these thoughts as Lucielle continues chanting the spell. You feel like you’re on the verge of losing consciousness when you and Lucian begin to float in the air. A portal opens before you, revealing the Kingdom of Tiara. “Good luck, and I wish the both of you the best!” Lucielle shouts, raising her hands higher. You feel yourselves being drawn closer to the portal. You feel a surge of panic and anger as Lucielle adds a warning. “Oh, I almost forgot. You will follow the prologue, but the other gods have rewritten your story, so expect some new surprises in store for you!” You shout back in alarm, “WAIT, WHAT? YOU DIDN’T SAY THAT EARLIER!” But it’s too late, and you and Lucian are hurtling through the portal. As you fall through the blue spiraling tunnel, the rush of wind whips your hair back and you feel weightless. The ground is getting closer and closer, and you fear for your life. You wonder what kind of surprises the other gods have in store for you. . You wonder if you’ll survive this ordeal. You feel a jolt of energy as you enter the portal. You see flashes of light and colors as you travel through space and time. You hear Lucian’s voice fading away as he calls out your name. ''“<<print $player_name>>!”'' And then everything goes black. You wake up with a groan as you hit the soil face-first, dirt flying everywhere. You try to sit up, but your body feels heavy and unresponsive. That’s when you hear a familiar voice. “That was quite a ride huh?” Lucian’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn your head to see him offering you a hand and a beaming smile. He looks unscathed by the fall, except for a few scratches on his arms. His smile is bright and infectious, but his eyes betray a hint of worry. "Here let me help you." he says, approaching you and offering his hand to you. [[Accept the offer]] [[Reject the offer]]

The air around you seems to crackle with tension as you hastily spin a tale, your mind racing to concoct a plausible explanation that might spare you from the dragon's wrath. Your voice takes on an animated lilt, a facade of genuine intrigue as you weave your words with practiced finesse. "We've always been fascinated by dragons," your voice carries a carefully crafted enthusiasm, a delicate balance of awe and wonder. "When we heard rumors of a majestic dragon living in these parts, we couldn't resist the opportunity to see it with our own eyes." The dragon's eyes narrow, its gaze a piercing scrutiny that seems to dissect your very intentions. It closes its eyes, a slow and deliberate movement that sends ripples of anticipation through the air. In an instant, the world seems to shift, and you and Lucian are drawn into the pull of its breath. The sensation is overwhelming, a whirlwind of wind and heat that engulfs your senses. Fear courses through your veins, a visceral response that threatens to betray your facade. Your voice trembles, an unwitting confession of your unease, while your nerves dance with a tremor you can't suppress. Your heart gallops within your chest, a wild rhythm that echoes the drumming of your pulse. In a suspended moment, the dragon remains enigmatically still, its silence hanging heavy in the air. Hope flares within you, a fragile ember of possibility that the ruse might have succeeded. But then, with a seismic roar that reverberates through the very core of your being, the dragon's eyes snap open, its nostrils flaring with an ominous plume of smoke. "A fitting sight before your demise!" The dragon's words are a chilling growl, a proclamation of impending doom that sends shivers cascading down your spine. The ground trembles beneath your feet, your voice caught in a gasp of disbelief as you and Lucian share a mutual exclamation of shock. Dread wraps its icy tendrils around your hearts, a vice-like grip that threatens to squeeze the breath from your lungs. The dragon's declaration is a sentence of finality, a prelude to an inexorable end that looms ever closer. As if scripted by fate, the dragon tilts its immense head upwards, the gesture imbued with a foreboding weight. The world seems to blur around you, the tableau distorted by the realization that your fate has been sealed. But then, an unexpected voice slices through the air, a command that shatters the suffocating stillness. "ATTACK!" A figure materializes, armed with a projectile that pulses with an eerie, sickly green luminescence. The figure's movements are swift and purposeful, a practiced throw that propels the projectile towards the dragon. Impact is met with explosion, and acrid smoke billows forth, enshrouding the dragon in its noxious embrace. The dragon's colossal head reels back, a snarl of disorientation contorting its features. Another figure enters the fray, a blur of motion as yet another projectile hurtles towards the beast. The dragon's response is a furious swipe of its claws, a desperate attempt to thwart the incoming onslaught, but the smoke's tendrils seem to clutch at its senses. A chorus of warriors storms the scene, their movements synchronized with a precision born of battle-hardened expertise. Hooks sail through the air, their trajectories true as they find purchase upon the dragon's scales. The warriors pull with a united determination, a collective effort to immobilize the creature that has held you captive in its shadow. The dragon resists, its ferocious thrashing a symphony of chaos and desperation. But the warriors' determination proves unyielding, their ropes ensnaring the dragon's massive form. The creature's roars pierce the air, a cacophony of fury that reverberates through the clearing, but its movements are hindered, its strength sapped by the choking embrace of the smoke. The dragon's colossal frame slumps, a testament to its defeat, and the weight of its massive head comes to rest upon the earth with a resounding thud. Lucian's grip on his regained body is one of awe mingled with profound relief, his gaze sweeping across the scene that unfolds before him. "Is it dead?" His voice trembles with a mixture of disbelief and wonder, carrying a timbre that echoes the magnitude of the moment. The orchestrator of the attack, a figure cloaked in authority, responds with a confident shake of his head, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. His voice rings out with an air of unwavering certainty, a cadence of authority that commands attention. "Nope, merely asleep," his declaration reverberates through the air, each word a note in a symphony of triumph. He strides with purpose towards the prone form of the dragon, his movements exuding a potent blend of prowess and self-assuredness. His gaze narrows as he studies the fallen creature, his scrutiny a testament to the keen eye of a seasoned warrior. "Very well then," his voice carries a gruff directive, the weight of his command underscoring each syllable. He addresses one of his comrades with a gesture and a nod, his orders delivered with a quiet intensity that brooks no hesitation. "Boy," he calls to one of his comrades, "Tie her up real good." The warrior moves with practiced efficiency, securing the dragon's limbs with strong ropes, making sure the knots are tight and secure. The dragon's breath is still labored, and wisps of smoke continue to escape its nostrils. The person in charge leans in close to the dragon's massive head, his eyes blazing with determination. "And make sure she's snorting this smoke every minute," he bellows, his voice carrying the weight of his command. He gestures to a small pouch of powdered herbs, which he sprinkles near the dragon's snout, causing the creature to inhale the smoke even in its slumber. The warriors move with precision, ensuring that the dragon remains secured and under the effects of the debilitating smoke. The dragon's once fearsome presence is now a thing of the past, its eyes closed and its breathing slowed, as the warriors did their finishing preparations. [[Continue|Prologue 10]]

Your inquiry cuts through the air like a blade, a question tinged with a mix of intrigue and caution, a reflection of the mysteries that have unfolded before you. The leader of the group, seems momentarily taken aback by your directness. As if prompted by a sudden realization, his demeanor shifts, a courteous inclination toward proper introductions. "My name is Garret Pierce, Lord of the Pierce House," he proclaims, his voice carrying a resonance that befits his noble standing. His hand extends towards you, a gesture of camaraderie and respect. He tells you his name, and you feel a jolt of recognition. You realize that he is not only a Lord, but also the father of Lucas Pierce, the Royal Protector of your IF. Lucas Pierce is one of your OCs, a grumpy and mean character who is loyal to the princess. You wonder if he has changed in this rewritten version of your story, or if he is still the same. Clad in armor that gleams like liquid silver in the embrace of sunlight, Garret exudes an air of regal authority that demands attention. His form is imposing, a living embodiment of strength and leadership. The mere presence of this lordly figure holds a magnetic allure, drawing your gaze and capturing your intrigue. Lucian's eyes widen, a mixture of astonishment and curiosity dancing within their depths. His words flow with a blend of awe and diplomacy, his voice a reflection of the respect he holds for Garret. "I apologize if I seem to intrude, but may I venture to ask if you have any connection to Lucas Pierce, The Royal Protector?" The inquiry hangs in the air, a thread of curiosity that weaves between the three of you. Garret's eyes twinkle with a blend of mirth and pride, his countenance illuminated by the memory of a cherished bond. His smile remains undaunted. He nods with a sense of paternal affection, a beacon of affirmation that resonates in his words. "Indeed, I am," he declares, his voice imbued with a sense of paternal pride. "He is my son." "I extend my heartfelt gratitude for your aid in tracking down the dragon, <<print $player_name>>!" Garret's expression exudes warmth and camaraderie, a genuine display of appreciation that resonates in the hearty slap he delivers to your back. The force of the impact nearly sends you reeling. [["Helped track the dragon?"]] [["Of course I like to help!"]] [["That's me expert dragon tracker extraordinaire!"]]

"Of course I like to help!" you say, steadying yourself and giving Garett a thumbs-up, trying to hide the flutter of excitement in your chest. "I mean, who wouldn't?" Garett says with a smile, his eyes shining with admiration. "Especially when you'll be paid a huge sum for your services!" You blink in surprise, your mind struggling to process his words. "I'll be getting paid?" you ask, your voice filled with incredulity. Garett doesn't seem to mind your reaction, and he nods enthusiastically. "Of course! Out of all the people we've recruited so far, you're the only one who's got the guts to do it!" He looks at you with approval, his gaze unwavering. Well that's a surprised, getting paid without doing anything but before you can say any further Lucian cuts through. "Well that's <<print $player_name>> for you!" he laughs and his eyes looking nervous at you, telling you something. "I hope I can see some of your skills in action!" Garett calls your attention his smile beaming. "I won't let you down," you say, your voice filled with resolve. "I'll do whatever it takes to complete this mission successfully." Garett smiles, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. "I have no doubt about that, MC," he says, his voice filled with confidence. "You've already proven yourself to be one of the best. Just keep doing what you do, and we'll make sure you're rewarded accordingly." With that said Garett turned his back on your begin barking orders on his team. "He's quite the character," you chuckle to yourself, thinking that he's the new addition to your story. Lucian, who had been standing nearby, warned you with a stern expression. "<<print $player_name>>, be careful with your words next time." You looked at Lucian, surprised by his caution. "Why? I didn't say anything wrong!" He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "You didn't, but you've given Garett hope that he might get to see some of your skills in action." Your voice took on an edge as you asked, "Will that be a problem?" Lucian grinned predatorily, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Well, it depends. What if Garett, oh I don't know, wants you to fight an ogre?" Your heart skipped a beat as you imagined facing a massive ogre, its club ready to smash you to pieces. You gulped, trying to hide the nervousness that surged through you. "That can definitely be a problem," you agreed, your voice wavering slightly. Lucian's expression turned serious as he nodded. "So, we must tread carefully from now on, until we can get proper weapon training." "C'mon you two, saddle up and let's going till there's some light left and the dragon is sound asleep! Garret shouts, looking at a man and signalling his head towards your direction A warrior walk towards you, holding the reins of a single horse. "Sorry only one left!" he smiles sheephisly. You and Lucian exchange glances, but without hesitating, you bolt straight to the horse, fueled by excitement and curiosity. This is your first time riding a horse, and you're determined to make the most of this opportunity. After all, how hard can it be? [[I drive the horse how hard can it be?]]

"That's me expert dragon tracker extraordinaire!" you slap him back as payback, your skin hitting his armor making a metallic sound but Garett did not even flinch. Garett draws back his hand, nodding in acknowledgement. "Well, I better get going. These fools need someone to shout some orders at them," he says, stepping away from you and barking commands to his comrades. "He's quite the character," you chuckle to yourself, thinking that he's the new addition to your story. . Still caught up in oyur thoughts you hear a voice addressing you. "Good thinking!" he praises you, his tone filled with admiration. "We don't need any suspicion from the start." You raise an eyebrow, curious about what he's implying. Your mind races as you try to piece together his words. Lucian seems to have caught on to something, and his praise only adds to your confusion. "What do you mean?" you ask, your curiosity getting the better of you. Lucian smiles, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I mean, it's smart not to draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves," he says cryptically, as if he's sharing a secret with you "Remember, the prologue is not the same as before, so being discreet is a must!" You nodded, understanding the importance of caution in this new situation. But then you couldn't help but blurt out, "I haven't even thought of that, actually. I just like to brag!" You pointed a thumb to your chest, flashing Lucian a confident smile. "Wait, WHAT?" Lucian exclaims, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise as he processes your confession. You can see the shock and disbelief written all over his face, and a flicker of amusement passes through your eyes. His eyes narrow slightly as he tries to gauge whether you're joking or not. His lips part, but no words come out for a moment as he processes your unexpected revelation. But before he can expand the matter, a voice cuts him off. "C'mon you two, saddle up and let's going till there's some light left and the dragon is sound asleep! Garret shouts, looking at a man and signalling his head towards your direction A warrior walk towards you, holding the reins of a single horse. "Sorry only one left!" he smiles sheephisly. You and Lucian exchange glances, but without hesitating, you bolt straight to the horse, fueled by excitement and curiosity. This is your first time riding a horse, and you're determined to make the most of this opportunity. After all, how hard can it be? [[I drive the horse how hard can it be?]]

As you strode towards the majestic horse, your voice rang out confidently, "I call shotgun!". Garett, with a quizzical expression, arched an eyebrow and asked, "Forgive me, but what is this 'shotgun'?" Lucian's apprehensive gaze turned towards you, a flicker of worry in his eyes. "Its nothing just an expression!" you quickly say and waving your hand casually. Garett's laughter echoed through the air. With a chuckle, he playfully jested, "Haha, I see, you're quite the peculiar one, <<print $player_name>>!" His horse pawed at the ground impatiently as Garett urged it forward with a swift kick to its side. The magnificent creature obeyed, muscles rippling as it moved, carrying Garett effortlessly on its back. You turned towards the horse and reached for the reins, feeling the supple leather beneath your grip as you guided your horse to the side, coming to a graceful halt. Turning to Lucian with a friendly smile, you extended your hand towards him, offering assistance. His eyes fixated on your hand as if it were an ancient relic from a long-forgotten era, and he hesitated, clearly admiring it in awe. "It's alright," you chuckled, noting his hesitation. "It won't break, I promise." Your hand remained outstretched. Lucian's apprehensive gaze locked onto your hand, and he took a deep breath before finally summoning his resolve and grasping it tightly. With a nod of determination, he allowed you to hoist him up onto the saddle. As he swung his legs over the horse's back, his movements were clumsy, but he managed to settle in. "Hold tight!" you instructed, and with a firm kick, the horse began to move at a slow pace. His grip on you tightened with a vice-like intensity, his fingers digging into your clothes. His body tensed, and he leaned into you for support, his hands clinging to your shoulders. [["You know if you want to get close all you have to do is just ask you know?" Flirt Boldly]] [["Hold onto me tight!" Flirt Shyly]]

With a sultry tone, you speak from the front. "You know, if you want to get close, all you have to do is ask." You feel his grip on you loosen, and though you can't see his face, you can almost imagine the deep blush that must have spread across his cheeks. His body tenses, and you can tell he's caught off guard by your suggestive remark. A brief moment of silence hangs in the air, charged with anticipation. Then, you hear a stuttered response from Lucian, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I didn't mean to... I mean, I wasn't... I..." You can't help but smile at his flustered state, finding it endearing. Your playful tone softens, and you pat his arms that is wrapped around your waist, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. "It's okay, Lucian," you say softly, "I was just teasing." You know that you shouldn't take advantage of Lucian's infatuation with you, but the temptation is too strong to resist. It's like a crime not to indulge in the thrill of this game. A voice booms and you see Garett approaching you. "<<print $player_name>>, how is Beatrice treating you?" Garett calls out your name, pulling his horse beside you and eyeing the horse you're riding. "She's treating me just fine!" you say, brushing the horse's mane affectionately andshe snorts in response. Garett chuckles and shakes his head. "Can't say the same for your friend here," he says, nodding towards Lucian. "I'm not much of a horse person," Lucian admits sheepishly. Garett gives Lucian a playful pat on the back. "Well, you'll get used to it soon enough," he says with a grin. "Just hang on tight and enjoy the ride!" Garett chuckles for a few seconds, but then his expression turns serious. "So, <<print $player_name>>, I'm guessing you have questions about how we'll pay you for your services or other logistical details," he says, his eyes fixed on you with unwavering intensity. You don't waste any time in seizing the opportunity to ask your questions. Garett's straightforward demeanor encourages you to be direct, and you're eager to get the information you need. "I do have some questions," you say, meeting Garett's gaze with determination. "But not about my payment, if that's alright with you." Garett rubs his chin with his other hand, appraising you with a curious expression. He's taken aback by your request, but he nods in agreement. "Alright then, ask away!" he says, waving his hand in a gesture of permission. <<linkreplace "What kind of smoke was that?">> The green smoke that had enveloped you earlier piqued your curiosity, and you couldn't help but wonder about its components. You knew that knowing its properties might come in handy in the future. Garett, noticing your inquisitive expression, looked at you thoughtfully with his hand under his chin. "Truthfully, I have no idea," he admitted. "But based on the explanation that was given to me, it's used to subdue dragons." Your eyes widened in surprise. "Well, it certainly worked greatly, and it didn't affect us!" you exclaimed. Garett nodded, but his expression held a note of caution. "I've heard that our alchemist used rare herbs and exotic ingredients to create it," he said, his voice tinged with mystery. You waited for Garett to expound further but he dindn't. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Are there still dragons roaming around here?">> Garett's eyes clouded with sorrow, his gaze distant as he spoke. "There was," he began, his voice heavy with emotion. He paused, as if lost in the memories of a time long gone. "But during the Great Scourge," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "they vanished, leaving only legends and myths in their wake." The weight of his words hung in the air, and you could feel the magnitude of the loss. You could almost see the dragons in your mind's eye, majestic creatures with scales that glimmered like precious gems, their wings spanning wide as they soared through the skies with grace and power. The thought of their disappearance sent a pang of sadness through your heart, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of anger for the Gods for changing that. "What happened?" you asked "You see," he began, his voice heavy with sorrow, "before dragons and humans lived together in harmony. But then, the dragons started attacking us without warning, ravaging our lands and causing destruction. We had no choice but to retaliate, and it sparked the very first bloody war between humans and dragons." You could see the pain in Garett's eyes, and his voice trembled as he spoke of the violence and devastation that had ensued. The memories seemed to haunt him, and his eyes turned glassy with unshed tears. He blinked, and the momentary vulnerability vanished, replaced by a stern tone. "Can we not talk about this?" he said, his voice now firm. "It brings back too many bad memories." You nodded in understanding, realizing that the wounds of the past were still fresh for Garett. You couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness, knowing that the world you had envisioned in your stories, where dragons and humans coexisted peacefully, was shattered by a dark chapter in history. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Why did we capture the dragon earlier?">> Garett's gaze shifts to the side, where a group of warriors are busy securing the knots on the dragon's massive wings. His expression is grave as he speaks. "A villager came to us, desperate for help," he says, his voice tinged with urgency. "They claimed that a red dragon was terrorizing their village, attacking and devouring their people." He pauses, his eyes scanning the dragon's form as if searching for answers. "So the King sent us to deal with the problem," he continues, his voice resolute. "And we hired your expertise to help us track down its lair." With a determined nod, he juts his chin towards the dragon, emphasizing the gravity of the situation. "Do we know his name!" Garett's voice drops to a low tone as he corrects you. "Her name is Variel" he says, and you feel a chill run down your spine. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. This dragon, the one you helped bring down earlier, is your own creation, your original character from your stories. But she's supposed to be a villain, right? She tried to kill you just moments ago. The weight of the situation sinks in, and your throat feels dry as you struggle to process the implications. The dragon before you, once a figment of your imagination, now stands in all its terrifying glory. The name Variel, The Raging Inferno, sends shivers down your spine, as you remember the formidable characteristics and powers you had bestowed upon her in your stories. "How did the villager know her name?" you ask, trying to divert your mind from the rising questions within you. Garett's brow furrows in perplexity, mirroring the confusion that gnaws at your own thoughts. "We don't know," he answers with a shake of his head. "When we asked the villager, they simply told us that they knew and refused to speak any more on the matter." As you process the situation unfolding before you, a sense of unease washes over you. Varie, was not supposed to be free. According to the story you had created, she was supposed to be imprisoned as a soul inside the main character, forever sealed away from the world. But now, she stands before you as a living, breathing dragon. A voice shouts urgently, interrupting your conversation with Garett. "Boss, we've got a problem!" man's voice rings out, filled with worry. Garett gives you a respectful nod as he quickly heads towards the source of the commotion, his hand pointing towards Variel. Lucian's voice startles you, reminding you of his presence. You had momentarily forgotten about him in the chaos unfolding before you. "Well, that's Variel, huh?" Lucian remarks, his tone laced with surprise. "Yup!" you nod in affirmation, your heart skipping a beat as you remember the cruel and merciless traits you had written for Variel. Garett's panic-filled voice breaks through the chaos. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE RUN OUT?!" he shouts aloud, his tone filled with desperation. Before anyone can respond, a thunderous roar echoes through the forest, shaking the ground beneath your feet. The shouts of men are drowned out by the deafening sound, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. Variel, has broken free from her binds, her massive form now towering over the scene with a primal fury that sends chills down your spine. Lucian's voice echoes through the air, almost tauntingly, as he speaks to Variel. "She looks nice!" he compliments, a smirk playing on his lips. As if in response to his words, Variel lets loose a mighty roar, and flames erupt from her jaws, engulfing the ground in front of her in a blazing inferno. The intense heat radiates towards you, making you instinctively take a step back. "And friendly!" Lucian continues, his tone filled with amusement. Variel's flames dance and swirl, casting an eerie glow over the surrounding area, painting the forest in shades of orange and red. [[Continue|Prologue 11]] <</linkreplace>>

You used your free hand and put on atop Lucian's hands where he is holding to your shoulders, you can feel them shaking in fear. You're holding me wrong," you said softly, your voice carrying a sense of reassurance. Your hand remained in place, not withdrawing from his skin, as you sought to comfort him. Your touch was gentle, a gesture of support and encouragement "I apologize!" his voice came out in a low tone, filled with apology as he acknowledged his mistake. "It's alright," you reassured him with a comforting pat on his hand, your touch gentle and calming. Despite your outward composure, your heart raced in your chest. "May I guide your hand?" your voice remained steady, but your body is starting to get goosebumps. "Of course! his grip on your shoulders loosened as he complied with your request. You took his hand in yours and guided them down to your hips, feeling the warmth of his touch against your skin. "Now, do the same with your other hand," you instructed, your voice firm but tinged with a hint of nervousness. "Next," you said, your voice quivering slightly as you tried to mask your emotions. "Wrap your hands around my waist and hold me tight." Your heart skipped a beat as you uttered the words, thinking how couples would say these things to one another romantically. "<<print $player_name>>?" Lucian's voice caught you off guard, causing you to jump slightly. "Thank you!" he says genuinely. "You're welcome," your voice remained steady, but inside, your emotions raged like a storm, a mixture of joy, nervousness, and a growing fondness for Lucian. A warmth spread through your body, and you felt a rush of emotions that left you feeling giddy and almost ''//gushy//''. Your cheeks flushed, and your heart seemed to beat faster in your chest as you tried to suppress the overwhelming sensations. Thankfully, a voice broke through your reverie, distracting you from your feelings. You turned your attention to the sound, grateful for the interruption that pulled you back to the present moment. "<<print $player_name>>, how is Beatrice treating you?" Garett calls out your name, pulling his horse beside you and eyeing the horse you're riding. "She's treating me just fine!" you say, brushing the horse's mane affectionately and she snorts in response. Garett chuckles and shakes his head. "Can't say the same for your friend here," he says, nodding towards Lucian. "I'm not much of a horse person," Lucian admits sheepishly. Garett gives Lucian a playful pat on the back. "Well, you'll get used to it soon enough," he says with a grin. "Just hang on tight and enjoy the ride!" Garett chuckles for a few seconds, but then his expression turns serious. "So, MC, I'm guessing you have questions about how we'll pay you for your services or other logistical details," he says, his eyes fixed on you with unwavering intensity. You don't waste any time in seizing the opportunity to ask your questions. Garett's straightforward demeanor encourages you to be direct, and you're eager to get the information you need. "I do have some questions," you say, meeting Garett's gaze with determination. "But not about my payment, if that's alright with you." Garett rubs his chin with his other hand, appraising you with a curious expression. He's taken aback by your request, but he nods in agreement. "Alright then, ask away!" he says, waving his hand in a gesture of permission. <<linkreplace "What kind of smoke was that?">> The green smoke that had enveloped you earlier piqued your curiosity, and you couldn't help but wonder about its components. You knew that knowing its properties might come in handy in the future. Garett, noticing your inquisitive expression, looked at you thoughtfully with his hand under his chin. "Truthfully, I have no idea," he admitted. "But based on the explanation that was given to me, it's used to subdue dragons." Your eyes widened in surprise. "Well, it certainly worked greatly, and it didn't affect us!" you exclaimed. Garett nodded, but his expression held a note of caution. "I've heard that our alchemist used rare herbs and exotic ingredients to create it," he said, his voice tinged with mystery. You waited for Garett to expound further but he dindn't. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Are there still dragons roaming around here?">> Garett's eyes clouded with sorrow, his gaze distant as he spoke. "There was," he began, his voice heavy with emotion. He paused, as if lost in the memories of a time long gone. "But during the Great Scourge," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "they vanished, leaving only legends and myths in their wake." The weight of his words hung in the air, and you could feel the magnitude of the loss. You could almost see the dragons in your mind's eye, majestic creatures with scales that glimmered like precious gems, their wings spanning wide as they soared through the skies with grace and power. The thought of their disappearance sent a pang of sadness through your heart, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of anger for the Gods for changing that. "What happened?" you asked "You see," he began, his voice heavy with sorrow, "before dragons and humans lived together in harmony. But then, the dragons started attacking us without warning, ravaging our lands and causing destruction. We had no choice but to retaliate, and it sparked the very first bloody war between humans and dragons." You could see the pain in Garett's eyes, and his voice trembled as he spoke of the violence and devastation that had ensued. The memories seemed to haunt him, and his eyes turned glassy with unshed tears. He blinked, and the momentary vulnerability vanished, replaced by a stern tone. "Can we not talk about this?" he said, his voice now firm. "It brings back too many bad memories." You nodded in understanding, realizing that the wounds of the past were still fresh for Garett. You couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness, knowing that the world you had envisioned in your stories, where dragons and humans coexisted peacefully, was shattered by a dark chapter in history. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Why did we capture the dragon earlier?">> Garett's gaze shifts to the side, where a group of warriors are busy securing the knots on the dragon's massive wings. His expression is grave as he speaks. "A villager came to us, desperate for help," he says, his voice tinged with urgency. "They claimed that a red dragon was terrorizing their village, attacking and devouring their people." He pauses, his eyes scanning the dragon's form as if searching for answers. "So the King sent us to deal with the problem," he continues, his voice resolute. "And we hired your expertise to help us track down its lair." With a determined nod, he juts his chin towards the dragon, emphasizing the gravity of the situation. "Do we know his name!" Garett's voice drops to a low tone as he corrects you. "Her name is Variel" he says, and you feel a chill run down your spine. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. This dragon, the one you helped bring down earlier, is your own creation, your original character from your stories. But she's supposed to be a villain, right? She tried to kill you just moments ago. The weight of the situation sinks in, and your throat feels dry as you struggle to process the implications. The dragon before you, once a figment of your imagination, now stands in all its terrifying glory. The name Variel, The Raging Inferno, sends shivers down your spine, as you remember the formidable characteristics and powers you had bestowed upon her in your stories. "How did the villager know her name?" you ask, trying to divert your mind from the rising questions within you. Garett's brow furrows in perplexity, mirroring the confusion that gnaws at your own thoughts. "We don't know," he answers with a shake of his head. "When we asked the villager, they simply told us that they knew and refused to speak any more on the matter." As you process the situation unfolding before you, a sense of unease washes over you. Varie, was not supposed to be free. According to the story you had created, she was supposed to be imprisoned as a soul inside the main character, forever sealed away from the world. But now, she stands before you as a living, breathing dragon. A voice shouts urgently, interrupting your conversation with Garett. "Boss, we've got a problem!" man's voice rings out, filled with worry. Garett gives you a respectful nod as he quickly heads towards the source of the commotion, his hand pointing towards Variel. Lucian's voice startles you, reminding you of his presence. You had momentarily forgotten about him in the chaos unfolding before you. "Well, that's Variel, huh?" Lucian remarks, his tone laced with surprise. "Yup!" you nod in affirmation, your heart skipping a beat as you remember the cruel and merciless traits you had written for Variel. Garett's panic-filled voice breaks through the chaos. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE RUN OUT?!" he shouts aloud, his tone filled with desperation. Before anyone can respond, a thunderous roar echoes through the forest, shaking the ground beneath your feet. The shouts of men are drowned out by the deafening sound, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. Variel, has broken free from her binds, her massive form now towering over the scene with a primal fury that sends chills down your spine. Lucian's voice echoes through the air, almost tauntingly, as he speaks to Variel. "She looks nice!" he compliments, a smirk playing on his lips. As if in response to his words, Variel lets loose a mighty roar, and flames erupt from her jaws, engulfing the ground in front of her in a blazing inferno. The intense heat radiates towards you, making you instinctively take a step back. "And friendly!" Lucian continues, his tone filled with amusement. Variel's flames dance and swirl, casting an eerie glow over the surrounding area, painting the forest in shades of orange and red. [[Continue|Prologue 11]] <</linkreplace>>

"Thanks!" you say shyly, feeling a warmth spread across your cheeks. Your heart races as you steal a glance at Lucian, who seems to be equally flustered. "You're welcome!" Lucian stammers, his own cheeks reddening. His voice is barely above a whisper, and it's clear that he's struggling to keep his cool. "You two look like a great couple!" Lucielle chuckles, teasingly. You can feel the blood rushing to your face, and you try your best to act nonchalant. "Sis!" Lucian blurts out, clearly flustered. His voice cracks, and he avoids making eye contact with anyone, including you. "And you have my blessing!" Lucielle adds, laughter in her eyes as she watches the two of you. You can feel your heart skip a beat at her words, and you wonder if she's serious. Is this really happening? A God falling for you? You glance down at your feet, feeling a mixture of surprise and amusement. You can't believe that a goddess is playing matchmaker for you. It's certainly a new and unexpected experience, and you can't help but chuckle inwardly at the situation. Lucian, on the other hand, looks utterly mortified by his sister's teasing. His face turns an even deeper shade of red, and he avoids making eye contact with anyone, including you. You can't help but find his discomfort very appealing. Lucielle laughs for a few more seconds and then gestures towards a platform that has been inscribed with intricate runes and symbols. “So now that is cleared up, I hope you’re ready for your new journey and life!” As she waves her hand, the platform starts to glow in a beautiful blue hue, signaling the beginning of the reincarnation process. Without any hesitation, you confidently step onto the platform, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation for what’s to come. Lucian stands close by, giving you a supportive thumbs up. You nod your head, ready to embark on this new adventure. Lucielle fixes you with a stern gaze, her voice carrying a weighty seriousness. “Now whatever you do <<print $player_name>>, do not go out of this circle while I’m casting the spell or there will be severe consequences, am I clear?” You swallow hard, feeling a nervous lump forming in your throat, but you manage to respond bravely. “I understand!” As Lucielle begins to cast the spell, the room is bathed in a pulsating blue light. You feel a powerful celestial magic crackling in the air, filling your senses. At first, you feel no pain, but as the room grows hotter and hotter, your throat begins to feel parched and sweat begins to drip down your face. Suddenly, the heat turns into a searing inferno that burns both your body and soul. You begin to scream in agony, but Lucian’s voice cuts through your cries. “Be steadfast, you’re not really burning, it’s just your mind reacting to celestial magic. Concentrate <<print $player_name>>!” he shouts, his voice firm and reassuring. You try to focus on his words, but the pain is overwhelming. You feel like you’re being roasted alive over a blazing bonfire. You wonder if this is how it feels to die. You think about all the things you’ve left undone and unsaid in your life. You think about all the good times you’ve had with Lucian and Lucielle. You think about the Kingdom of Tiara that awaits you on the other side of the portal. You cling to these thoughts as Lucielle continues chanting the spell. You feel like you’re on the verge of losing consciousness when you and Lucian begin to float in the air. A portal opens before you, revealing the Kingdom of Tiara. “Good luck, and I wish the both of you the best!” Lucielle shouts, raising her hands higher. You feel yourselves being drawn closer to the portal. You feel a surge of panic and anger as Lucielle adds a warning. “Oh, I almost forgot. You will follow the prologue, but the other gods have rewritten your story, so expect some new surprises in store for you!” You shout back in alarm, “WAIT, WHAT? YOU DIDN’T SAY THAT EARLIER!” But it’s too late, and you and Lucian are hurtling through the portal. As you fall through the blue spiraling tunnel, the rush of wind whips your hair back and you feel weightless. The ground is getting closer and closer, and you fear for your life. You wonder what kind of surprises the other gods have in store for you. . You wonder if you’ll survive this ordeal. You feel a jolt of energy as you enter the portal. You see flashes of light and colors as you travel through space and time. You hear Lucian’s voice fading away as he calls out your name. ''“<<print $player_name>>!”'' And then everything goes black. You wake up with a groan as you hit the soil face-first, dirt flying everywhere. You try to sit up, but your body feels heavy and unresponsive. That’s when you hear a familiar voice. “That was quite a ride huh?” Lucian’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn your head to see him offering you a hand and a beaming smile. He looks unscathed by the fall, except for a few scratches on his arms. His smile is bright and infectious, but his eyes betray a hint of worry. "Here let me help you." he says, approaching you and offering his hand to you. [[Accept the offer]] [[Reject the offer]]

You feel a surge of gratitude and admiration for Lucian, who has been your loyal companion and friend throughout your journey. You flash him a confident grin and give him a thumbs up, hoping to convey your appreciation for his support. He looks away shyly, but you catch a glimpse of a faint blush on his cheeks, revealing his bashfulness. “Lucian, your favorite Author is happy to have you, what do you say?” Lucielle teases him gently, her voice playful and warm. Lucian’s bashfulness deepens, and he fidgets slightly, but he clears his throat and manages to speak up. “Thank you,” he says softly, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. The sincerity in his words is evident, and it warms your heart. Lucielle laughs for a few more seconds and then gestures towards a platform that has been inscribed with intricate runes and symbols. “So now that is cleared up, I hope you’re ready for your new journey and life!” As she waves her hand, the platform starts to glow in a beautiful blue hue, signaling the beginning of the reincarnation process. Without any hesitation, you confidently step onto the platform, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation for what’s to come. Lucian stands close by, giving you a supportive thumbs up. You nod your head, ready to embark on this new adventure. Lucielle fixes you with a stern gaze, her voice carrying a weighty seriousness. “Now whatever you do <<print $player_name>>, do not go out of this circle while I’m casting the spell or there will be severe consequences, am I clear?” You swallow hard, feeling a nervous lump forming in your throat, but you manage to respond bravely. “I understand!” As Lucielle begins to cast the spell, the room is bathed in a pulsating blue light. You feel a powerful celestial magic crackling in the air, filling your senses. At first, you feel no pain, but as the room grows hotter and hotter, your throat begins to feel parched and sweat begins to drip down your face. Suddenly, the heat turns into a searing inferno that burns both your body and soul. You begin to scream in agony, but Lucian’s voice cuts through your cries. “Be steadfast, you’re not really burning, it’s just your mind reacting to celestial magic. Concentrate <<print $player_name>>!” he shouts, his voice firm and reassuring. You try to focus on his words, but the pain is overwhelming. You feel like you’re being roasted alive over a blazing bonfire. You wonder if this is how it feels to die. You think about all the things you’ve left undone and unsaid in your life. You think about all the good times you’ve had with Lucian and Lucielle. You think about the Kingdom of Tiara that awaits you on the other side of the portal. You cling to these thoughts as Lucielle continues chanting the spell. You feel like you’re on the verge of losing consciousness when you and Lucian begin to float in the air. A portal opens before you, revealing the Kingdom of Tiara. “Good luck, and I wish the both of you the best!” Lucielle shouts, raising her hands higher. You feel yourselves being drawn closer to the portal. You feel a surge of panic and anger as Lucielle adds a warning. “Oh, I almost forgot. You will follow the prologue, but the other gods have rewritten your story, so expect some new surprises in store for you!” You shout back in alarm, “WAIT, WHAT? YOU DIDN’T SAY THAT EARLIER!” But it’s too late, and you and Lucian are hurtling through the portal. As you fall through the blue spiraling tunnel, the rush of wind whips your hair back and you feel weightless. The ground is getting closer and closer, and you fear for your life. You wonder what kind of surprises the other gods have in store for you. . You wonder if you’ll survive this ordeal. You feel a jolt of energy as you enter the portal. You see flashes of light and colors as you travel through space and time. You hear Lucian’s voice fading away as he calls out your name. ''“<<print $player_name>>!”'' And then everything goes black. You wake up with a groan as you hit the soil face-first, dirt flying everywhere. You try to sit up, but your body feels heavy and unresponsive. That’s when you hear a familiar voice. “That was quite a ride huh?” Lucian’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn your head to see him offering you a hand and a beaming smile. He looks unscathed by the fall, except for a few scratches on his arms. His smile is bright and infectious, but his eyes betray a hint of worry. "Here let me help you." he says, approaching you and offering his hand to you. [[Accept the offer]] [[Reject the offer]]

Your pronouns are $mc_they, $mc_them, $mc_their, $mc_theirs, and $mc_themself, and plurality is $mc_plural. Is that correct? <<link "Yes" "another">><</link>> <<link "No" "presets">><</link>>

<b>Due to the nature of randomness, not all pronouns you inputted may be represented here.</b> <b>Pronouns in use</b>: $arr_they ?mcThey $mc_is / ?mcthey $mc_is / ?mcThey $mc_is / ?mcthey $mc_is Sometimes it can get jarring if MC keeps switching pronouns mid-sentence. You can refer to $mc_them consistently! <<print $mc_they.toUpperFirst()>> will be referred to in this paragraph only by $mc_they, $mc_them, $mc_their, $mc_theirs, and $mc_themself. ?mcThey walk$mc_s. ?mcThey $mc_is walking. ?mcTheyre walking. Using $mc_variables: $mc_they, $mc_them, $mc_their, $mc_theirs, $mc_themself, $mc_theyre, $mc_they $mc_has First letter capital: ?mcThey, ?mcThem, ?mcTheir, ?mcTheirs, ?mcThemself, ?mcTheyre, <<print $mc_is.toUpperFirst()>>, <<print $mc_has.toUpperFirst()>>. <b>Additional randomized examples</b> ?mcThey $mc_is walking. (<i>$mc_they, $mc_them, $mc_their, $mc_theirs, $mc_themself</i>) ?mcThey $mc_was walking. (<i>$mc_they, $mc_them, $mc_their, $mc_theirs, $mc_themself</i>) ?mcTheyre walking. (<i>$mc_they, $mc_them, $mc_their, $mc_theirs, $mc_themself</i>) ?mcThey walk$mc_s. (<i>$mc_they, $mc_them, $mc_their, $mc_theirs, $mc_themself</i>) I see ?mcthem walking. (<i>$mc_they, $mc_them, $mc_their, $mc_theirs, $mc_themself</i>) That is ?mctheir dog. (<i>$mc_they, $mc_them, $mc_their, $mc_theirs, $mc_themself</i>) ?mcThey $mc_has a dog. (<i>$mc_they, $mc_them, $mc_their, $mc_theirs, $mc_themself</i>) It is ?mctheirs. (<i>$mc_they, $mc_them, $mc_their, $mc_theirs, $mc_themself</i>) ?mcThemself. (<i>$mc_they, $mc_them, $mc_their, $mc_theirs, $mc_themself</i>) [[Set gender]]

Would you like to add a preset or input your own? <<link "Add they/them." "confirm">><<set $mc_they to "they">><<set $mc_them to "them">><<set $mc_their to "their">><<set $mc_theirs to "theirs">><<set $mc_themself to "themself">><<set $mc_plural to true>><</link>> <<link "Add she/her." "confirm">><<set $mc_they to "she">><<set $mc_them to "her">><<set $mc_their to "her">><<set $mc_theirs to "hers">><<set $mc_themself to "herself">><<set $mc_plural to false>><</link>> <<link "Add he/him." "confirm">><<set $mc_they to "he">><<set $mc_them to "him">><<set $mc_their to "his">><<set $mc_theirs to "his">><<set $mc_themself to "himself">><<set $mc_plural to false>><</link>> <<link "Add xe/xem." "confirm">><<set $mc_they to "xe">><<set $mc_them to "xem">><<set $mc_their to "xyr">><<set $mc_theirs to "xyrs">><<set $mc_themself to "xemself">><<set $mc_plural to false>><</link>> <<link "Add my own." "custom">><</link>>

Would you like to add another? <<gender $mc_they $mc_them $mc_their $mc_theirs $mc_themself $mc_plural>> Current pronouns: $arr_they <<link "Yes" "presets">><</link>> <<link "No" "example">><</link>>

she/he/they: <<textbox "$mc_they" "they">> him/her/them: <<textbox "$mc_them" "them">> his/her/their: <<textbox "$mc_their" "their">> his/hers/theirs: <<textbox "$mc_theirs" "theirs">> himself/herself/themself: <<textbox "$mc_themself" "themself">> Plural? (is/are) Yes <<radiobutton "$mc_plural" true checked>> No <<radiobutton "$mc_plural" false>> <<link "Set gender" "confirm">><</link>> <<link "Back to presets" "presets">><</link>>

"Helped track the dragon?" you reply unsure. "Well you're the one who led us here did you not?" Garret says suspiciously "I don't kn-" Lucian sling his arm over you and making your words fly, lost in the wind. But before you can respond, Lucian intervenes, slinging his arm over your shoulder with a chuckle that seems to whisk your words away with the wind. "Don't mind him, Sir Garret," Lucian interjects, his voice confident and smooth. "<<print $player_name>> just hit their head on something!" Garret's expression shifts from suspicion to importance as he turns away from you and barks out orders for the horses to be prepared. "We must depart with haste and have it checked back at the capital!" Garret declares, his eyes scanning the surroundings. Garret leaving your presence, Lucian unslings his arms from your shoulders and steps in front of you, his eyes locked onto yours with a sense of urgency. "<<print $player_name>>, be careful with your words," he warns, his voice low and measured. "Remember, the prologue is not the same as before." "But we didn't track the dragon we fall from the sky!" you protest. "I agree but we must tread carefully now, who knows what might happen to us if we say that we fall from the skies like meteors!" Lucian says. You can sense the weight of his words, and you realize that the situation is delicate. The truth of how you arrived here, falling from the sky, may not be well-received or understood by others. Lucian's caution is a clear indication of the potential consequences of revealing the truth. "C'mon you two, saddle up and let's going till there's some light left and the dragon is sound asleep! Garret shouts, looking at a man and signalling his head towards your direction A warrior walk towards you, holding the reins of a single horse. "Sorry only one left!" he smiles sheephisly. You and Lucian exchange glances, but without hesitating, you bolt straight to the horse, fueled by excitement and curiosity. This is your first time riding a horse, and you're determined to make the most of this opportunity. After all, how hard can it be? [[I drive the horse how hard can it be?]]

RAISE WEAPONS!" The resonant command reverberates through the tumultuous air, a symphony of steel on steel as swords are unsheathed, and shields are poised for defense. Garett's presence is a beacon of leadership, his warriors aligning with unwavering determination, forming an unyielding bulwark against the looming threat of Variel. As you watch the scene unfold, conflicting emotions surge within you. Variel is your creation, your OC, and a part of you feels a sense of responsibility to protect her. After all, you brought her to life with your words. But at the same time, you can't forget that Variel tried to kill you earlier. The memories of her ferocious attack and the fear it instilled in you are still fresh in your mind. With a determined exhalation, you descend from your horse, feet finding purchase on the earth below. The ground beneath you seems to pulse with anticipation, mirroring the rhythm of your heart. Each step you take towards the unfolding turmoil resonates with a quiet resolve, a declaration of your intent to forge a new narrative. As you close the distance, your voice rises above the cacophony, a clarion call that pierces through the din of clashing weapons and warrior's cries. "WAIT!" The force of your words commands attention, a magnetic pull that draws the warriors' focus to you, their actions momentarily suspended in response to your unwavering presence. Stepping into the fray, you position yourself as a barrier between Variel and the warriors, a living wall that seeks to halt the collision course hurtling towards destruction. Variel's maw, a harbinger of flames, hovers perilously close, a storm of fiery power threatening to engulf the clearing. "HOLD!" Garett's voice adds to the symphony, an authoritative decree that stills the chaos. Blades halt mid-swing, and the battlefield transforms into a tableau of suspended motion, a canvas waiting for your brushstrokes. Variel's colossal form regards you, her ire tempered by surprise at your audacity. The intensity of her gaze, once a tempest of fury, softens as the realization dawns upon her—a human daring to challenge her might. "We should not fight!" Your declaration is a beacon of conviction, your voice carrying the weight of your beliefs as you address both Variel and the warriors. The very air seems to hum with tension, the confluence of conflicting forces threatening to ignite into a maelstrom of confrontation. A growl rumbles within Variel's chest, the sound a testament to the storm of emotions raging within her. Her eyes, once blazing with wrath, now reflect a flicker of curiosity, a glint of contemplation amid the turmoil. "ALL OF YOU ATTACKED ME!" Variel's voice booms, her anger evident in every word. Her massive form trembles with fury, and her scales bristle with tension. "We did, and for that, we're sorry!" you confess, your voice filled with sincerity as you acknowledge the charges against you. Variel's monumental form remains poised, her stance a testament to the ferocity that defines her nature. Her gaze narrows, a challenge etched into her features as she demands an explanation, her question laden with the weight of her history and grievances. "But we have reasons for our actions!" you say, standing your ground, determined to explain your perspective. "THEN WHAT IS THAT REASON THAT COMPELS YOU TO TRESPASS ON MY GROUND AND ATTEMPT TO KIDNAP ME?" Variel's voice roars, her eyes narrowing as she demands an explanation. "You attacked innocent people and devoured some of them!" you shout, your voice rising with emotion as you confront Variel. "PREPOSTEROUS! I DID NO SUCH THING!" Variel's laughter rings out in response to your outrageous claims, her voice laced with disbelief. "Then what do you think the reason we're here in the first place?" you shout, feeling exasperated by her denial. Your words seem to have an effect on Variel, as she suddenly quiets down and becomes thoughtful. "I don't know," she mutters, her fiery gaze flickering uncertainly. "I JUST TOLD YOU!" you exclaim, frustration mounting as you almost rip your hair out in annoyance. "Lady Variel!" Garett steps forward with confidence, his voice carrying authority. "What MC says is true. We're here to subdue and capture you, and bring you to the Kingdom for judgment on these accusations against you," he declares, his words ringing with conviction. Variel's eyes narrow as she glares at Garett, her head lowering down to meet his gaze. The tension is palpable, and you hold your breath, uncertain of what will happen next. Garett, however, remains unfazed, standing his ground with unwavering resolve. He meets Variel's gaze with a steely determination, and you're impressed by his bravery in the face of such a formidable opponent. "It's our word against yours, Lady Variel," Garett states firmly, his voice steady. "But you have my word that if you cooperate, we will not be forced to resort to violence for your safety and the safety of my men." Variel snorts in response, clearly skeptical of Garett's words. "Is that a threat?" she challenges. Garett bows his head and gets down on one knee, his posture showing respect rather than submission. "Merely a request, My Lady," he says earnestly. "Please consider my words." "BOSS!" a man shouts and going into the front. "Stand down, Lee," Garett's voice carries authority. "And if you value your life, you will copy what I'm doing!" Whispers and murmurs spread among the group of warriors, but one by one, they follow Garett's example, getting down on one knee and bowing their heads in a show of respect and submission. You also kneel down, showing your appreciation for Variel's decision. "Get up, I don't need your respect!" Variel sneers, her voice filled with disdain. "But I will accept your request!" she says with finality, her head held high with pride. "Really?" Lucian blurts out, hiding behind a tall and burly man, clearly still wary of Variel's presence. "I may be a dragon, but I have standards and honor," Variel declares, her eyes flashing with determination. "Besides, I will not let these false charges stain my innocent name!" "You have my gratitude, Milady!" Garett says, standing up from his knee and showing also his appreciation for Variel's decision. You speak up, addressing Variel directly, "Then I assume you will fly ahead of us?" Variel turns her eyes towards you, her piercing gaze narrowing. "No!" she declares with emphasis. "I will walk with you. You intrigue me, little mouse, for few have the courage to get in between trouble and death," she narrows her eyes at you, assessing your presence with curiosity and interest. You can't help but feel a bit flustered as Variel's intense gaze remains fixed on you. Her words are ambiguous, and you can't quite discern if she's complimenting you or flirting with you. Before you have a chance to reply, Lucian interjects, bragging about your role in tracking down Variel. "That's <<print $player_name>>, they're the one who tracked you down, you know?" he boasts, a smug grin on his face. Variel's response is cool and collected, but her eyes continue to linger on you, making you feel both self-conscious and afraid. "Is that so?" she says, her tone even, but her gaze unwavering. You glare at Lucian, realizing that he may have unintentionally put a target on you with his bragging. You can't help but wonder how this revelation will affect your interactions with Variel moving forward. You hoped that she will forgive you and moved on for your sake. "Alright, boys, you heard the Lady! Prepare for the journey ahead!" Garett's booming voice echoes through the air, making Lucian jump in surprise. The group rises up from their knees, and they disperse, each one taking on their roles and responsibilities. Variel, on the other hand, continues to watch you in silence, her eyes fixed on you with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. You can't help but feel a sense of unease, unsure of what she might be thinking or planning. "How are you going to acco-?" you start to ask Variel, but before you can finish your sentence, she wraps herself in a veil of flames. The fire is blindingly bright, and you have to shield your eyes with your arm to protect them from the intense glare. The flames dance and flicker around Variel, obscuring her form from view. Despite the brightness of the flames, you don't feel any searing heat. Instead, there's a warm and comforting sensation that seems to emanate from the fire, making you feel strangely at ease. The flames flicker and fade, revealing a breathtaking woman standing before you. Her skin is as pale as freshly fallen snow, and her fiery red hair is tousled and wild, framing her regal face. Intricate tattoos, remnants of the scales that once covered her dragon form, adorn her body, adding to her mesmerizing allure. She stands tall and proud, exuding an air of otherworldly beauty and power. Her crimson red eyes pierce through you with intensity as she gazes directly at you. Her stance is confident, with her arms crossed and her weight shifted to one leg, showcasing her self-assured demeanor. Her words are sharp, delivered with a commanding tone. "What are you looking at?" she shouts, "Your half-naked Variel!" Lucian hastily covers his eyes in response to her revealing attire. She snorts with disdain, unapologetic for her half-naked state. "So? Haven't you humans seen a naked body before?" Her disdainful expression and casual dismissal of modesty only serve to further highlight her unapologetic confidence and defiance. ''//<<linkreplace "Continue to watch!">>//'' Lucian covered his eyes but you didn't do such thing but instead you lean your head closer, taking all the view and memorizing every detail. The tattoos, glowing in a crimson red hue, that starts at her shoulder and extend down to her hand, their designs reminiscent of the scales that once covered her dragon form. Her hands, partially covered by the scales that act like a glove, are a mesmerizing sight. The remnants of her dragon heritage are evident in the way the scales gleam in the fading light of the dying flames, adding to her otherworldly aura. You find yourself captivated by her presence, unable to tear your gaze away from the alluring combination of her regal bearing, the glowing tattoos, and the scales that adorn her. Every detail of her stunning form is etched into your memory, You couldn't help but notice the firmness and muscularity of Variel's legs as you took your time memorizing her captivating form. However, your reverie is interrupted as Garett returns with a dress in hand. "Please, Lady Variel, wear this," Garett says, moving the cloth towards her. Variel's exasperation is evident as she questions, "Why?" Garett's reply is unabashed, "Because, as of now, you're a distraction to the men around here." he smirks You turn to look behind you and notice the group of men who had stopped in their tracks, holding crates in their hands and watching Variel with rapt attention. "Tsk! Humans have no self-control!" Variel scoffs as she reaches for the dress, pulling it on with fluid movements. The fabric clings to her form, accentuating her curves and emphasizing her alluring features. Her crimson eyes narrow with a touch of amusement as she adjusts the dress, making it fit perfectly on her frame. The sight of Variel in the dress is breathtaking. Her fiery red hair spills over her shoulders, contrasting against the pale fabric of the dress. Her skin seems to glow, as if lit from within, and her tattoos peek out from beneath the fabric, adding an air of mystery to her already captivating appearance. A loud crash shatters the air, followed by the sound of ceramic shattering on the ground. The sharp, metallic clang of a pot hitting the floor echoes through the air, instantly ruining the moment. "GET BACK TO WORK, YOU SLEAZY DOGS!" Garett's voice booms like thunder, slicing through the air with authority. At the booming command of Garett, the warriors snap out of their momentary daze as if released from a trance. They shake their heads, visibly shaken, and quickly resume their duties with renewed vigor, determined to make up for the momentary lapse. "My apologies, Lady Variel!" Garett bows his head respectfully before leaving Variel's presence. Lucian, with his eyes still covered, can't help but ask, "Is she wearing something?" You huff, feeling a pang of annoyance. "Yes, Lucian, she is covered!" your voice carries a grumpy tone as you pout, crossing your arms in frustration, you still want to see Variel naked but the fates are cruel to deny you even that. "Thank goodness!" Lucian sigh in relief and lowering his hand from his eyes. Your eyes catch Variel moving towards you, her hips swaying with authority and confidence. Her gaze is fixed on you, and you can feel the intensity of her crimson eyes piercing through you. You gulp, suddenly apprehensive. Did she take offense to your earlier gawking? Or perhaps she has decided to take action against you for tracking her down, even though you didn't did it. [[Continue|Variel]] <</linkreplace>>

"So, you're the one who tracked me down?" Variel's eyes twinkle with a mix of respect and curiosity, drawing you into the depths of her crimson gaze. "That's me!" you say with a small smile, chuckling nervously as you stand your ground. "Impressive for a mouse!" Variel mocks, her crimson eyes narrowing with a hint of amusement. "Hey, back off from my idol, lady!" Lucian steps in front of you, his arms cast to the side in a protective stance. "Oh? What if I don't?" Variel challenges, her posture confident and imposing. "Then you will face my wrath!" Lucian retorts, his voice edged with determination as he glares at Variel. As you witness Lucian standing up for you, you feel a surge of happiness and pride. ariel's laughter echoes through the air as she raises her hand near her mouth, her red lips curving into a mocking smile. "Haha! What's this? The mighty dragon tracker needs help to defend themselves?" Variel taunts, her voice laced with amusement as she looks at you with a disdainful expression that reminds you of rich and pompous entitled ladies. Her laughter stings, and you feel a surge of anger and frustration rise within you. You clench your fists, your jaw tightening as you struggle to maintain your composure. A surge of anger fuels your words as you shout at Variel, crossing your arms in defiance. "Well, at least I'm not the one who got taken down by humans, not to mention got humiliated and chained up!" Your voice booms, your eyes blazing with intensity. You see Lucian craning his head to look at you, a grin spreading across his face as he gives you a thumbs up in approval. But then, you feel a searing heat at your feet. Looking down, you see that your foot is caught on fire, and panic surges through you. "OH SHIT!" You curse, instinctively trying to pat out the flames with your bare hands, but regretting it immediately as the pain sears through your skin. "I'll save you, Author!" Lucian shouts, quickly removing his shirt and using it to swat the flames on your foot. The flames on your foot quickly die down, and you hurriedly remove your shoe to inspect the damage. To your immense relief, you find that your foot is unscathed, and you let out a sigh of gratitude. But then, you hear laughter, and your gaze snaps towards the source. Variel stands there, her palm open, flames dancing on her hand as she chuckles with a smug expression on her face. The flames seem to obey her command, flickering and swirling in intricate patterns, a display of her control over fire. "YOU BITC-" "<<print $player_name>>!" Garett's voice booms, cutting through the tension. Your eyes snap to him, and you see him shaking his head, a stern expression on his face. "But she started it!" You point an accusatory finger at Variel, your frustration palpable. "Yeah, Garett!" Lucian chimes in, his voice filled with indignation as he points his finger at Variel in solidarity with you. However, Garett's expression remains unchanged as he raises a hand to silence you both. His calm demeanor and authoritative presence demand respect, and you reluctantly fall silent. Variel strides forward, her steps purposeful and confident, until she comes to a stop right beside you. Her eyes lock onto yours, and you can see the glint of mischief mixed with a hint of irritation. "That's revenge for leading them to me," she says in a stern tone, her voice laced with authority. "And be grateful it's only a tiny fire!" With that, she deliberately bumps your shoulder with her own, the gesture firm and unapologetic. "Ohhh!" Lucian's eyes spark with fury, and he clenches his fists. "That Variel, who does she think she is, hurting my favorite Author?" He glares in Variel's direction, his jaw set with determination. "I think I'm gonna poison her later!" You take a deep breath, feeling the tension in your body slowly releasing. The anger you held towards Variel begins to fade, replaced by a sense of forgiveness. "It's fine, Lucian I forgive her" you say with a calm tone, looking at Variel with a more understanding gaze. Lucian's eyes widen in disbelief as he processes your forgiveness towards Variel. "You mean you're letting her off the hook just like that?" he asks, incredulous. You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yes, I am. After all, I created her, so it's not entirely her fault. Besides, her rudeness has been toned down." Lucian scratches his head, clearly puzzled by your response. "So, you're saying what she did was actually nice?" he asks, trying to wrap his head around the concept. You chuckle. "No, of course not! I mean, what kind of person burns someone's shoes? But you haven't seen the full story of Variel yet, as I haven't released the part where she tries to kill MC's betrothed." You glance over at Variel, who is now inspecting a horse, her expression unreadable. Lucian raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your words. "Well, I guess I'll reserve my judgment then," he says, crossing his arms. "But she better not try anything funny again, or she'll have to answer to me!" He casts a stern glance at Variel before turning his attention back to you. "Thank you, Lucian," you say with gratitude, touched by his loyalty. "No problem, Author," Lucian responds, a determined glint in his eyes. "If she gives you any more trouble, just say the word, and I'll beat her arrogant ass." You can't help but chuckle at his fierce protectiveness, but you shake your head. "No need for violence, Lucian. Let's try to handle things peacefully from now on." Lucian nods, his muscles relaxing as he takes a deep breath. "Alright, I'll restrain myself, but I won't let her walk all over you again." You appreciate his willingness to stand up for you, but you also want to handle the situation with Variel differently this time. You glance at Variel, who is examining a horse with a mix of curiosity and wariness. But before you can do anything a voice booms out. "Alright everybody, saddle up and let's go!" Garett shouts. As Garett's command rings out, the warriors mount their horses and the group sets off, leaving Variel and you walking side by side. Variel's snarky attitude is evident as she glances at you with a mischievous smirk. "Come on, <<print $player_name>>!" Lucian calls out, eager to forge ahead, and he moves ahead of you. You start walking, keeping an eye on Variel, who seems to be observing you closely. Feeling a surge of determination, you raise two fingers and point them at your eyes, then at hers, making a clear "I'm watching you" gesture. Variel laughs, shaking her head, but her laughter fades as she becomes serious. She raises a finger, and you notice her nail elongating, becoming sharp and menacing. Slowly, she slides her finger under her own neck and points it at you, a warning in her eyes. ''//(Note: The story will be taking a intermission so that I can introduce you the special character, so click the link and you will be taken to them)//'' [[Continue|Enter the room]]

The door creaked open, revealing an otherworldly space that seemed to defy logic. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries depicting scenes of grand adventures and mythical creatures. The air crackled with an electric energy, and a faint, alluring scent hung in the air, drawing me further into the room. In the center of the room stood a figure, shrouded in a cloak that blended seamlessly with the shadows. you could feel their presence, a palpable aura of mystery and wisdom As you approached, the figure turned towards you, their hood obscuring their face, but you could feel their gaze piercing through you. Their voice was rich and resonant, carrying a tone of authority and mystery. "I've been expecting you," they said, their words echoing in the room. "Welcome to my sanctuary, where stories come alive and destinies are shaped. I am the Narrator who weaves the threads of narratives together. I have been waiting for you, dear Reader." Your jaw dropped in surprise as you realized that the Narrator was addressing you directly. You couldn't believe it - you were now a character in the story. The surreal situation left you feeling a mix of confusion and annoyance. The Narrator let out a chuckle, their eyes twinkling with mischief as they waved their hand in a sweeping motion, gesturing around the room. "Please sit!" they exclaimed, and you found yourself complying, taking a seat in the chair that had appeared before you. You couldn't help but voice your frustration. "So I'm guessing this lack of control is intentional?" you asked, your tone tinged with annoyance as you stared at the Narrator. "As the reader, shouldn't I have choices in the story?" The Narrator's expression softened, and they leaned in closer, their voice soothing. "Well, yeah, I understand your frustration," they said, their words oozing with empathy. "But don't worry, the Author will input more choices in the future. Just bear with us for now." So get comfy and I will tell you the orginal tale of MC's IF before it got rewritten by the Gods. //In a small village, nestled among rolling hills and surrounded by dense forests, a woman's anguished screams pierced through the stillness of the night. Her cries echoed through the air, carrying the weight of pain and anticipation.// //A man, with furrowed brows and worry etched on his face, approached a young girl who stood guard at the entrance of a small house. "Where is she?" he asked urgently, his voice laced with fear.// //The girl, dressed in a simple apron, looked at him with empathy. "Sir, we can't let you in," she said gently, her eyes filled with compassion. "Your wife is still in labor."// //The man hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he had no choice but to wait, but the agony of not knowing what was happening inside was almost unbearable. With a heavy sigh, he nodded reluctantly and took a seat on a nearby bench, his eyes fixed on the closed door of the house.// //Time seemed to crawl as he waited, each passing moment filled with a sense of foreboding. He paced back and forth, his mind plagued with worries and doubts. What if something went wrong? What if his wife and child were not okay?// //The night seemed endless, and the man's anxiety continued to mount. He clenched his fists, feeling helpless and powerless. Every cry that escaped from the house only served to heighten his fears.// //As the first light of dawn painted the sky in shades of pink and orange, the door finally creaked open. The man's heart leapt into his throat as he rushed forward, his eyes searching for any sign of his wife and child.// A//nd then he saw them - his wife, pale but smiling, cradling a tiny bundle in her arms. Relief washed over him like a tidal wave, and tears streamed down his face as he rushed to their side, overcome with emotion.// //In that moment, the man's fears melted away, replaced by overwhelming joy and gratitude. He held his newborn child for the first time, marveling at the precious new life he held in his arms. It was a moment he would treasure forever, a testament to the strength and resilience of his wife and the miracle of new life.// //But the man's eyes widened in dread as he caught sight of the mark on his newborn child's hand. It was a dragon, pierced through the heart, a symbol of the prophecy that had haunted his worst nightmares.// //"No, no, NOOOOOO!" he screamed, his voice filled with anguish as he hugged his child tightly, tears streaming down his face. His heart clenched with fear and despair as he realized the implications of the mark. It was a curse, a burden that his innocent child would have to bear for the rest of their life.// The prophecy echoing in his mind. ''//Listen now, to words of old, A prophecy, both dark and bold, Of a child cursed by fate's cruel hand, To be a vessel for a dragon's band. The dragon's crimes were grave and dire, Its wrath unleashed like flames of fire, The heavens wept, the earth did shake, A reckoning, the gods did make. The dragon's soul, split and torn, Scattered wide, with hatred sworn, But one shard found a home so deep, Within a child's soul, its vigil keep. The child grew with darkness near, A dragon's presence, always clear, But destiny had more in store, A chance to settle the ancient score.//'' "Now, tell me Reader what is the bad side of having a prophecy?" Narrator asked you. "Well for starters your fate is dictated but I believed that if you fight hard you can nullify the prophecy!" your voice was loud as you defended your belief in defying prophecies. You were determined, confident that with enough effort, you could render any prophecy null and void. Your optimism was shining through, and the Narrator couldn't help but chuckle at your unwavering spirit. "Such optimism!" the Narrator remarked, genuinely impressed by your unwavering resolve. But then, their tone turned serious as they cautioned you about the dark side of prophecies. "However, my dear Reader, the unfortunate truth is that a prophecy can also make you a walking target." //The mother's eyes were etched with worry as she paced back and forth in their modest home. Her heart clenched with fear, and her hands trembled as she wrung them together. Her thoughts were consumed by the impending fate that awaited her child, the chosen one with a prophecy to fulfill. She couldn't bear the thought of losing her precious offspring to the whims of fate.// //Meanwhile, the father's face was etched with determination as he trained their child from a young age. He spared no effort in imparting the skills and knowledge needed to survive in a world where prophecies dictated destinies. He taught the child how to wield a sword, how to harness magic, and how to navigate the complexities of the world with cunning and resourcefulness.// //The father's training was rigorous, pushing the child to their limits and beyond. He knew that time was of the essence, and he couldn't afford to be lenient. He drilled the child in combat techniques, honing their reflexes and instincts, and instilling in them a sense of resilience and fortitude.// //The child, in turn, absorbed their father's teachings with unwavering determination. They practiced relentlessly, pushing themselves to excel in every aspect of their training. Their young mind soaked up knowledge like a sponge, and their skills grew with each passing day.// //The mother watched with a heavy heart, torn between pride and fear. She saw the child's unwavering determination to fulfill their prophecy, and it filled her with both admiration and trepidation. She knew that the fates were unforgiving, and that the consequences of the prophecy could be dire.// ''But of course the chosen one is not the only one preparing!'' //High atop a towering mountain, hidden away from the world, a dragon slumbered. Her scales glistened like lava, and her eyes shone with an ancient wisdom that had been honed over millennia. Her serpentine body coiled and shifted restlessly as she sensed a disturbance in the natural order of things.// //With a sudden jolt, the dragon's eyes snapped open, revealing pupils that glowed with an otherworldly light. Her keen senses detected a ripple in the fabric of reality, a disturbance that drew her attention like a moth to a flame. Her instincts kicked in, and she sprang into action.// //Unfurling her massive wings, the dragon took flight, her powerful wings beating against the air with a force that sent gusts of wind swirling in her wake. She soared through the sky, her eyes scanning the horizon, her senses sharp as she sought the source of the disruption.// //As she glided over rugged landscapes and vast oceans, the dragon's mind raced with possibilities. Who or what could have disturbed the delicate balance of the natural order? What could pose a threat to her domain? Her instincts told her to be wary, to be ready for anything.// Your voice filled with awe as you exclaimed, "Variel, The Raging Inferno!" The name rolled off your tongue with reverence. Your eyes sparkled with admiration, and your heart swelled with affection for this formidable character. "Haha, Ahh yes," the Narrator chuckled, amused by your enthusiasm, "the Author did mention that you were quite taken with her." "Taken? No, I absolutely love her!" You interjected, correcting the Narrator with fervor. Your love for Variel was unwavering, a flame that burned brightly within you. The Narrator grinned, a glimmer of mischief in their eyes. "Well, let's see if your adoration for Variel stands strong after what's to come." //Variel, The Raging Inferno, was no ordinary dragon. Her powers were a force to be reckoned with, transcending the natural order of the world. She possessed abilities that were both awe-inspiring and unnerving, setting her apart from any dragon that had come before her.// //One of her most remarkable talents was her ability to transform into a stunningly beautiful woman at will. Her form shifted effortlessly, as if she was a shape-shifter born of magic itself. Her human guise was a sight to behold, radiating an air of elegance and grace that captivated those who beheld her.// //But it wasn't just her physical transformation that made Variel formidable. She had also honed her skills in the arcane arts, wielding magic with unparalleled mastery. Her command over the elements was awe-inspiring. She could conjure fire that blazed with intensity, harnessing it to incinerate her enemies with lethal precision. She could summon ice that glittered with an icy chill, freezing her adversaries in their tracks. She could manipulate nature itself, commanding the elements of earth and wind to bend to her will.// //Variel's prowess in magic was unmatched, and she wielded her powers with a finesse that was both captivating and terrifying. She was a force of nature, an embodiment of raw power and untamed magic. Her mastery over these elements allowed her to unleash devastation upon her foes or to remain as the most powerful creature on the planet.// //But it wasn't just her formidable powers that set her apart. Variel's wisdom and cunning were equally remarkable. She was a strategist, a tactician, always thinking several steps ahead. Her mind was a wellspring of knowledge and intuition, and she used it to outwit her enemies and navigate the complexities of the world she inhabited.// //The dragon's reputation preceded her. She was known for her cunning, her resourcefulness, her mercilessness, and her ruthlessness. Her long life had sharpened her instincts to a razor's edge, and she had learned to navigate the world with a calculated precision that few could match.// //Variel, was not one to take prophecies lightly. Intrigued by the notion of a chosen one, she delved into the depths of her extensive knowledge and cunningly sought out information. She shifted her form into that of a human, seamlessly blending into society with her captivating smile and irresistible charm.// //Her investigation led her to a small village not far from her location. With predatory anticipation, she learned that the promised one, the subject of the prophecy, had indeed been born there. A gleeful smile crossed her lips, her eyes glinting with an intensity that could only mean one thing - carnage.// //She prepared herself for the inevitable confrontation, her mind racing with strategy and tactics. Her powerful abilities and unparalleled mastery of magic were at her disposal, ready to be unleashed with devastating force. She knew that she would stop at nothing to fulfill her own agenda, whatever it may be.// //Her human form may have concealed her true nature as a dragon, but her intentions were anything but hidden. She was a force to be reckoned with, a predator on the prowl, and nothing would stand in her way as she sought to fulfill her purpose.// //The night was engulfed in flames as Variel, descended upon the village with death in tow. Her powerful wings beat with ferocity as she soared through the sky, unleashing torrents of fire that set huts ablaze and turned the once peaceful village into a chaotic inferno. The village guards, valiantly attempting to stand against her, were no match for her merciless onslaught. With each swing of her mighty tail and each breath of her scorching flames, she reduced them to nothing more than red paste, leaving a trail of destruction in her wake. "Run, MC!" the father's desperate cry rang out as he tried to buy his child some time. But before he could reach his son, Variel turned her attention to him. With a roar that echoed through the night, she unleashed a torrent of fire upon him, reducing him to ash in an instant. The father's sacrifice was in vain, and MC stand their shocked watching their father disappear into the wind. Variel, landed heavily on the ground, her massive form causing the earth to tremble beneath her. With a contemptuous snort, she lowered her head, meeting MC eye to eye. Her eyes gleamed with a wicked hunger as she licked her lips, but to MC's surprise, she did not devour him. Instead, she spoke in a tone of gleeful mockery. "Songixxone, The Raging Inferno, don't forget the name that took everything from you, little mouse!" she taunted, her voice laced with arrogance. Her wings beat with power as she prepared to take flight, but she paused for a moment, a knowing smile playing on her lips. She seemed to be aware of the consequences of her actions, her hubris catching up with her. Despite her momentary amusement, she knew that her actions might come back to haunt her in the future. With a final triumphant roar, Variel spread her wings and took to the sky, leaving MC to watch in horror as their village burned to the ground. The flames danced and devoured everything in their path, leaving behind a trail of destruction and despair. MC stood there, feeling a mix of fear, anger, and sadness, as they watched the aftermath of Variel's brutal attack unfold before their eyes.// //The air was thick with smoke, the once vibrant village reduced to smoldering ruins. MC's heart ached as they surveyed the devastation, grieving for the loss of their father, their mother, their home, and the life they had known. // Now, do you still love her?" Narrator asked you. "Very much and my love for her even soared into new heights. You could see the disbelief in Narrator's eyes as you confidently affirmed your love for Variel, despite her known cruelty. You could tell that your response had caught Narrator off-guard. A smirk played on your lips as you recalled the subtle hints dropped by the Author in the past, teasing at Variel's darker nature. "Well, Author did leave some clues along the way," you explained. Narrator chuckled, a glimmer of amusement in their eyes. "I see," they mused, seemingly intrigued by your unwavering affection for someone known for their brutality. Your curiosity grew, and you couldn't help but ask the burning question that had been on your mind. "But why did Variel spare MC? She's smart and cunning, so why leave him alive?" you inquired, genuinely puzzled. Narrator burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the air. "Why? Do you want them to die?" they asked, the amusement evident in their tone. You quickly shook your head, clarifying your intentions. "No, no! That's not what I meant," you protested, realizing how your words may have sounded. "I'm just curious why Variel, known for her ruthlessness, chose to spare MC." Narrator continued to tell the story. //For ages, Variel, had been a fearsome force of destruction. Her immense power and ferocity were unmatched, and many had sought to challenge her, driven by greed or glory. But none had ever returned from their ill-fated quests.// //Her fiery breath would come forth in a torrent, scorching the air and turning the battlefield into a blazing inferno. Her claws would swipe with precision, crushing armor and bones alike. The challengers would be thrown back, their courage crumbling in the face of her overwhelming power.// //Despite their bravado, none could withstand Variel's might. They would fall, one by one, to her fiery wrath. Some would be reduced to ashes, while others would be torn apart by her mighty claws. Their attempts to defeat her were futile, and their fates were sealed.// //Variel's battle-weary eyes searched for a glimmer of excitement in the sea of monotonous challengers. Her once-fierce spirit had dulled from the repetitive battles, where victory came too easily, and challengers fell predictably under her overwhelming might.// //But then she saw MC, the chosen one in the prophecy. Here was a chance for something different, something thrilling. She longed for the satisfaction of a true duel, where victory or defeat hung in the balance, and the fear of dying at MC's blade sent shivers down her spine.// //Deep down, Variel knew there was more to this battle than met the eye. She was aware of the fate that awaited her if she was defeated. Her soul would be imprisoned inside MC, forever bonded to them. The prospect of this otherworldly connection excited her, adding a new layer of intrigue to the impending showdown.// "Looks like we've reached the end of the story for now, Reader!" Narrator stands up from their chair, a mischievous twinkle in their eye. "What? Nooooo!" You groan, slumping down in your chair, disappointment written all over your face. "Haha, sorry, it's Author's orders!" The Narrator chuckles, enjoying the dramatic turn of events. "But I don't wanna!" You protest, waving your arms in frustration, your emotions on full display. You sit up straight, a flicker of an idea sparking in your mind. "But wait, the Author isn't here, so you can still continue!" You try to coax the Narrator, a glimmer of hope in your eyes. The Narrator shakes their head, a knowing smile on their face. "Oh, Reader, the Author knows everything," they say with a chuckle. Just then, a voice echoes, filling the room. "That's right, Reader, I can hear you, you know!" It's the Author, making their presence known. "Greetings, Author!" The Narrator greets happily, acknowledging their arrival. "Hello!" The Author greets back, their voice carrying a sense of authority. "Author, I'm dying to know what happens in the story, pretty please!" You plead, leaning in with wide, pleading eyes. The Author's response is firm but gentle. "As much as I love your enthusiasm, Reader, revealing the suspense now would spoil the mystery that lies ahead." With a final flourish, the Author addresses you directly. "This marks the end of our demo, my dear Reader!" Their voice is filled with a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. You feel a pang of sadness, realizing that the story has come to a close. You had been captivated by the world woven by the Author's words, and now it was time to bid farewell. "I hope you enjoyed the journey," the Author adds, a little sadness in their tone. "Now you will be returning to the story once more!" [[Continue|Chapter 1]]

''//Chapter 1: Dead MC Walking//'' As you walked alongside Variel, your senses were on high alert, acutely aware of the palpable danger she exuded. Each step you took was cautious, and your eyes repeatedly darted toward her, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. Stealing glances at her, you found yourself captivated by her enigmatic demeanor. Her eyes, a mesmerizing shade of crimson, seemed to hold secrets untold, and they bore into your soul with a fierce intensity. You could sense the danger lurking within her, and yet, there was an undeniable allure that both intrigued and terrified you. Suddenly, Variel's voice pierced through the silence, her tone dripping with menace. "If I wanted you dead, little mouse," she stated bluntly, her words laced with a chilling confidence, "I could kill you anytime I want." A snort escaped your lips, bravado overriding your fear. You couldn't resist the opportunity to challenge her, to prove your own worth. "Oh, yeah? How's that working out for you?" you retorted, a sneer playing on your lips, your voice brimming with confidence. For a moment, Variel's menacing facade wavered, and a chuckle escaped her lips. But her laughter was short-lived as her gaze snapped towards you, a dangerous glint flashing within her crimson eyes. Your heart pounded in your chest as her intense stare bore into yours, filling you with a mixture of fascination and trepidation. "Truthfully, badly," she murmured, her voice low and dripping with a potent blend of threat and promise. The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, sending shivers down your spine. "But I will not repeat the same mistake." With that, Variel's body moved with purpose, a predator on the prowl. She took the lead, striding forward with an air of confidence that made it clear she was in control. You watched her retreating figure, a mix of emotions swirling within you. Fear, curiosity, and a strange sense of exhilaration all vied for dominance. "<<print $player_name>>!" a voice calls from behind you. As you turn around, your heart skips a beat as your eyes meet Lee's. He strides towards you with unparalleled confidence, each step exuding a quiet intensity. His lean form is accentuated by the simple leather jerkin he wears, the worn material clinging to his lithe frame. A bow rests gracefully across his back, a testament to his skill and readiness for action, while a glinting knife is discreetly tucked into his belt, a subtle yet deadly weapon at his disposal. A scar, jagged and untamed, mars his cheek, a rugged mark of battles fought and survived. It serves as a constant reminder of the risks he has taken, the sacrifices he has made. Lines furrow his forehead, etched deep into his weathered skin, a result of constant squinting against the harsh winds of a life lived on the edge. His abrupt stop in front of you drew your attention, and you found yourself in the gaze of Lee's perceptive eyes. He regarded both you and Variel with a smirk, his voice laced with condescension as he spoke. "Looks like there's some bad blood between you and Variel," he observed, a subtle nod indicating Variel, as if daring you to challenge his assertion. [[No we don't!]] [[I wanna fucking kill her]] [[Nah! We're just having a lovers quarrel that's all]]

You tighten your arms across your chest, a defensive gesture, as you meet his smirking gaze. "Variel and I have no issues," you assert, your voice laced with annoyance. He chuckles, the condescension evident in the way his smirk widens. "Sure, sure," he replies dismissively. Your stern gaze locks onto his, frustration creeping into your tone. "Why are you even so curious about our interaction?" you ask, a hint of exasperation coloring your words, as you question his nosy behavior. Lee's laughter echoes in the air, his eyes darting around to ensure there are no prying ears. "No reason, it's just that..." He trails off, building up the suspense as he looks around. "It's just what?" you demand, your patience wearing thin, your curiosity piqued. Lee meets your gaze, a satisfied smirk on his face, as if he's been waiting for this moment. Leaning in, he lowers his voice, making sure his words are only meant for you. "It's just me and the boys made a little bet on who would come out on top between you and Variel," he reveals. A confident smile spreads across your face as you point a thumb to your chest. "Oh, I'll definitely be on top," you declare, your tone dripping with determination. Lee's eyebrows wiggle suggestively, and he shoots you a knowing look. "Oh? What kind of 'top' are you referring to?" he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Your expression quickly changes as you catch his innuendo, and you blush, caught off guard. You stumble over your words, trying to compose yourself. "What are you talking about? I meant I'll come out victorious," you stammer, attempting to recover from the unexpected turn in the conversation. Lee grins slyly, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Don't worry, <<print $player_name>>, your secret's safe with me," he assures you, his tone implying he knows more than he's letting on. "And either way, I'm rooting for you. You'll fuck her up," he says, waving his hand nonchalantly, as if discussing a sports match. Your eyes widen in disbelief at his words. "Hey, that's not what I meant!" you protest, your voice rising slightly in frustration. Lee simply laughs as he begins to walk away. "Oh, one more thing," he says, his voice taking on a dark and foreboding tone that sends shivers down your spine. You can sense the weight of his words as he speaks. "Watch your back," he says, his words dripping with a threatening edge that leaves you feeling uneasy. Without another word, he resumes walking away, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a growing sense of unease. You bit your lip, lost in thought as you mull over Lee's words. Is it a warning or just an advice? You're unsure, but you don't have time to dwell on it further as you hear Lucian's voice calling your name. "<<print $player_name>>, let's go!" Lucian shouts, waving his hand to get your attention. You snap out of your reverie and nod, determined to put Lee's warning aside for now. You start jogging towards Lucian, your footsteps echoing in the distance as you quickly close the distance between you. Your mind is still filled with questions, but for now, you push them aside and focus on catching up with your ally. As you and Lucian walked side by side, he suddenly interrupts you with a serious tone. "Look, <<print $player_name>>," he says, his voice firm and his gaze unwavering. "We need to talk about Variel." You pause, scanning Lucian's expression. His usually carefree demeanor is replaced by a somber intensity, his jaw tight and eyes focused. You sense that he's not taking this conversation lightly. Despite this, your external expression remains passive. You grit your teeth in frustration, internal anger simmering. "Why does everyone want to keep talking about Variel?" you mutter under your breath. Lucian's voice is low, barely above a whisper, as he speaks to you and not noticing our frustration. "<<print $player_name>>, Variel is not to be underestimated," he says, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger. "She's powerful, cunning, and unpredictable. In other words, she's a real threat to all of us." [[You're right!]] [[What? She's just shy I think?]] [[Lucian why are you speaking such things?]]

A playful grin spreads across your face as you retort, "Nah, we're just having a lover's quarrel!" You raise your chin, meeting Lee's gaze with a mischievous twinkle in your eye. Lee raises an intrigued eyebrow at your words. "Oh?" he says, his curiosity piqued, as he leans in closer. A wider grin spreads across your face as you taunt him, "Why? Jealous!" Lee's laughter fills the air as he leans in close, making sure only the two of you can hear his words. "Actually, no," he says, his tone filled with amusement. "And I think what I'm about to say might interest you," he adds, his eyes glittering with mischief. Your curiosity is piqued, and you lean in, eager to hear what he has to say. "Please do tell!" you urge him. Lee's expression turns disdainful as he points towards Variel. "You see, me and the boys made a bet on who would be able to 'fuck the ass' of that arrogant dragon," he says, his tone dripping with contempt as he gestures towards Variel. You bob your head, trying to wrap your head around Lee's revelation. "That's certainly... intriguing," you say, your voice filled with surprise. Lee's laughter bursts out as he continues, "And we bet that you will be the one who will conquer her!" he exclaims, pointing at you with a smirk. Your eyes widen in shock at his words. "Me?" you stammer. "Yup, because you're the one who found her," Lee says, grinning mischievously. "And of course, the others made a bet that she'll be the one who will fuck your ass instead!" he says, laughing even harder. You respond with uncertainty, "Thanks for the support, I guess." You're not sure how to take Lee's comments, unsure if he's being genuine or just teasing you. "No problem, <<print $player_name>>," Lee says with a sly grin, slinging his arm around your shoulders and pulling you in closer. "Besides, it doesn't take a genius to see that the dragon has taken a shine to you!" he adds, his voice filled with amusement. "How so?" you ask, genuinely curious as to why Lee would make such a claim. Lee chuckles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Of all the people, she's very feisty with you," he says, his voice laced with amusement. "And based on my experience, feisty usually means hungry," he adds, chuckling again. You raise an eyebrow at his comment, processing his words. "So you're a woman's man, are you?" you say, unable to resist a playful jab at Lee. Lee grins, his arm slipping off your shoulders. "Both, actually," he says, his voice filled with a flirtatious tone. "I'm a man of love, and I like to share that love with both sides," he adds, winking at you. "So are you rooting for me or flirting with me!" you stand and cross your arms. "I would love to gorgeous but I'm already taken!" he says and starting to walk away from you. Lee stops abruptly, not bothering to face you. "Oh, one more thing," he says, his voice taking on an ominous tone. You can sense the seriousness in his words. "Watch your back," he says, his tone sending a chill down your spine. Without another word, he starts walking again, leaving you with a sense of foreboding and uncertainty. You bit your lip, lost in thought as you mull over Lee's words. Is it a warning or just an advice? You're unsure, but you don't have time to dwell on it further as you hear Lucian's voice calling your name. "<<print $player_name>>, let's go!" Lucian shouts, waving his hand to get your attention. You snap out of your reverie and nod, determined to put Lee's warning aside for now. You start jogging towards Lucian, your footsteps echoing in the distance as you quickly close the distance between you. Your mind is still filled with questions, but for now, you push them aside and focus on catching up with your ally. As you and Lucian walked side by side, he suddenly interrupts you with a serious tone. "Look, <<print $player_name>>," he says, his voice firm and his gaze unwavering. "We need to talk about Variel." You pause, taking in his expression. Lucian's usually carefree demeanor is replaced by a somber intensity, and you realize that he's not taking this lightly. "Ok!" you say lowly. Lucian's voice is low, barely above a whisper, as he speaks to you. "<<print $player_name>>, Variel is not to be underestimated," he says, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger. "She's powerful, cunning, and unpredictable. In other words, she's a real threat to all of us." [[You're right!]] [[What? She's just shy I think?]] [[Lucian why are you speaking such things?]]

You waved your hand dismissively. "What? She's just shy!" "SHY?" Lucian blurts out, quickly covering his mouth with his hand to muffle his incredulous response. "I think?" you say, unsure of your own assessment. Lucian looks at you with a mixture of disbelief and sarcasm. "So being almost incinerated by her earlier is shy?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. You shift uncomfortably, realizing the absurdity of your statement. Variel's earlier attack was anything but shy. In fact, it was a powerful display of her ferocity and strength. Lucian's words hit home, reminding you of the danger you're facing. You threw your hands in the air, feeling a mix of frustration and curiosity. "Alright, you have a point, but what do you want us to do?" Lucian moved closer to you, his voice low and personal. "I suggest that we ask Garett for advice on wielding and using weapons," he whispered. "Weapons?" you repeated, suddenly intrigued by the idea of fighting with one. "Yes, for now we keep moving, but when we make camp later, I will approach Garett and ask him to train us," Lucian explained in hushed tones. You felt slender arms wrap around you and Lucian from behind, and a soft voice whispered in your ear. "What are you humans whispering about?" Variel's voice sent a shiver down your spine. "Oh shit! She's onto us, <<print $player_name>>!" Lucian blurted out, his eyes widening in panic. Without hesitation, he broke free from Variel's grasp and sprinted ahead, leaving you standing alone, caught off guard by the sudden turn of events. You turned to face Variel but your body rooted in place, her piercing gaze fixed on you. Her expression was unreadable, and you couldn't discern her intentions. "Nothing!" you gulp You sure?" Variel's voice was a low whisper. Her arm was still wrapped around you, and she steps in front of you, her eyes glowing with a fiery red hue under the blazing sun. You swallowed hard, feeling a bead of sweat forming on your forehead. Variel's close proximity was overwhelming, and her intense gaze made you feel vulnerable. You couldn't help but feel a surge of fear and uncertainty. "I...I..." Your voice faltered, unable to come up with a convincing response. Variel's presence was unnerving, and you found yourself at a loss for words. Variel's breath was hot against your neck, and her body pressed tantalizingly close to yours. You could feel the warmth radiating from her as she leaned in, her voice dripping with amusement. "Cat got your tongue, little mouse?" she says in a playful tone, her words were whispered seductively into your ear. Her proximity was electrifying and you're unable to come up with a coherent response. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and your heart pounded in your chest. "Lady Variel!" Garett's voice boomed across the clearing, cutting through the tension between you and Variel. You could see Variel's expression shift from annoyance to anger as she clicked her tongue in frustration. "What!" Her voice carried a sharp edge as she turned to face Garett. "I suggest you saddle up!" Garett's tone was commanding Variel nodded her head, her piercing gaze lingering on you for a moment longer. The intensity in her eyes seemed to soften ever so slightly as she took a step back from you, breaking the physical proximity that had left you feeling flustered and overwhelmed. "Be careful little mouse," she said in a low, husky voice. Her words carried a sense of warning, but also a hint of concern that surprised you. You struggled to find your voice, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you stammered out a response. "Th-thanks," you managed to utter, feeling a mix of relief and confusion at the sudden shift in Variel's demeanor. Variel's head fell back as she let out a booming laugh, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Don't thank me, mouse!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with amusement. With a sudden burst of speed, she closed the distance between you in the blink of an eye, her presence almost overwhelming. "Because I haven't yet forgiven you for your transgressions!" she declared, her tone teasing as she winked at you. Your eyes followed Variel's figure as she walked away, her silhouette disappearing into the distance. Your chest heaved with a heavy breath as you tried to make sense of the situation, the scent of pine and earth filling your nostrils. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you could feel the heat rising to your face, a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. You clenched your fists, feeling the rough texture of your calloused palms against your skin. Suddenly, a scream erupted in your mind, a release of pent-up tension that had been building up inside you. "What the heck is that?" you exclaimed internally, your thoughts racing. You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down, but the questions kept swirling in your head. Was Variel trying to flirt with you? Or was she trying to intimidate you? Her actions were baffling, and you couldn't decipher her true intentions. "<<print $player_name>>!" Garett's voice boomed, breaking through your thoughts and bringing you back to the present. You looked up at him, and he gave you a questioning glance. "Yeah?" you replied, trying to sound confident despite the turmoil inside you. "You okay?" Garett asked, his concern evident in his furrowed brow and earnest expression. You managed to give him a thumbs up, trying to assure him that you were fine. Garett nodded in response, but you could see a hint of worry lingering in his eyes as he turned his horse around to resume his task. You glance down at your forearm, feeling a sudden sting on your skin. As you look closer, you see a red line, oozing with blood. However, instead of anger, you chuckle to yourself, realizing the sneaky move Variel pulled off while leaning in close. ''//"Clever Girl!"//'' you say with a wry smile, feeling a mix of admiration and amusement at Variel's ingenuity. You take a deep breath and push through the pain, feeling the sting of the wound dull to a throbbing ache. As you make your way towards the convoy, the sound of leaves crunching beneath your boots echoes in your ears, mixing with the sounds of shuffling feet and clattering equipment from the group. The earthy scent of damp soil and decaying foliage fills your nostrils as you approach the carts, where supplies are being carefully loaded and secured. The creaking of wooden wheels and the jingle of horse reins fill the air as the group readies themselves for the journey ahead. Garett's voice booms through the air, causing you to flinch slightly. You look over to see him shouting orders, his eyes scanning the convoy for any signs of disarray. "IS EVERYTHING IN ORDER?" he bellows, his voice echoing through the surrounding trees. "Yes Boss!" Lee's voice cuts through the air, confident and assertive. He moves with purpose, inspecting each cart and horse with a keen eye. You can hear the sound of creaking wheels and rustling supplies as the group makes their final preparations. The air is filled with the smell of freshly cut grass and the faint scent of horse manure. The sun beats down on your skin, warming it and causing sweat to bead on your forehead. You hear the rustling of leaves and the soft sound of hooves as Garett's horse approaches. His voice booms out in excitement, and you turn your head to face him. "Ahh <<print $player_name>>!" he exclaims, his grin spreading across his face. The sound of Beatrice's hooves pounding against the dirt road filled your ears, the rhythm of her gallop punctuated by the occasional snort or whinny. As she approached, you could see the muscles in her powerful legs rippling beneath her sleek coat, and you couldn't help but marvel at her beauty. Garett's voice broke through your reverie, and you turned to see him smirking in your direction. "I think Beatrice is waiting for you!" he teased, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. Beatrice nickered impatiently, as if echoing Garett's sentiment. "You know it's never wise to keep a lady waiting!" he added, chuckling at his own joke. You walk closer and reach out to take Beatrice's reins and feel the smooth leather against your palm. As you rub her mane, you feel the coarse strands between your fingers, the warmth of her body radiating onto your skin. Beatrice lets out a playful snort, and you can hear the sound of air rushing out of her nostrils. Her eyes meet yours, and you can see a mischievous glint in them as she neighs, the sound reverberating through the air. "Don't think that you're off the hook yet!" You chuckle to yourself, shaking your head in amusement. "Sorry about that, girl," you apologize to her, the sound of your laughter mixing with the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. You feel the rough texture of Beatrice's fur as you swing your leg over her back, settling yourself into the saddle. The leather creaks as you shift your weight, and you can feel the warmth of Beatrice's body beneath you. Garett turns to you, the sun casting a warm glow on his face as he gestures towards the front of the convoy. "Now that you're settled!" he says, his voice echoing through the serene atmosphere. "It's time for you to take your position!" You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of fresh grass and earth, and turn to face him. The sun glints off his armor. "You can be at the front with me," he continues, his eyes scanning your face for a response. "And I can certainly use your tracking skills!" "Or, you can take the middle position," Garett continues, pointing towards the center of the convoy. You can see Lady Variel's horse trotting calmly next to the cart, and you catch a whiff of the hay and animals from the supplies. "And finally, you can take the rear," Garett finishes, , where you can see Lucian engaged in conversation with a man with fiery red hair. They seem to be having a good time, as you can hear their laughter echoing throughout the forest. You think over your options. As you look at the front, a surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins. You envisioned the wind whipping past your face as you urged Beatrice into a gallop, the rhythmic thud of her hooves echoing in your ears. The anticipation of the open road filled your lungs with a heady mix of excitement and exhilaration. Plus you can use this as a chance to learn more about the Kingdom of Tiara and you can ask him about the Princess and Royal Bodyguard if you wish to. Then you glance towards Variel's position in the middle of the convoy, a flicker of anxiety fluttered in your gut. You imagined her piercing red gaze fixed on you, her capricious personality will make your ride a very fun or death defying one. The thought of riding alongside her, with all her intensity and determination, sent goosebumps down on your skin. Maybe is her sadism that got you interested in her or is that you're a sucker for pain. Not to mention you can use this to know the dragon a little bit better. And yet, as you watch Lucian at the back of the group, a warm sense of companionship blossomed within you. The sound of laughter and chatter filled your ears, the tantalizing aroma of campfire smoke lingering in the air. You imagined the comfort of riding alongside a friend, sharing stories and basking in the camaraderie of the journey. Addionally, you haven't know much about your companion and maybe this bonding might remedy that. [[Ride at the front, I want to learn about the Kingdom Of Tiara and as well how my other OC's new personality like]] [[Ride at the middle, Variel is very interesting and I wanna learn more about her, I'm aware of the pain that might happen in this endeavor but maybe deep down I'm a masochist]] [[Ride at the back, even though Lucian is a fan of mine I haven't know a single thing about him and he knows a lot of my life, so I think is only fair if I even the situation]]

You couldn't believe your ears as Lucian's words caught you off guard. "Lucian, why are you speaking such things?" you asked him, your surprise evident in your tone. "Yeah, I knew you would agre-" he said, snapping his head towards you. "Wait, you're siding with her?" he asked, a look of astonishment on his face. It was clear that he hadn't expected your response, and his question was filled with incredulity. You stood your ground, resolute in your stance. "Yes, I am!" you declared firmly, looking straight into Lucian's eyes. Lucian quickly stepped in front of you, his expression turning scrutinizing. He tilted his head at different angles. "Did she do some kind of enchantment on you, <<print $player_name>>?" he questioned, his tone suspicious. "No, she did not!" you retorted, aghast at his accusation. "Besides, she's my OC that you're talking about!" Your voice held a mix of surprise and indignation as you defended your original character, feeling a sense of protectiveness towards your creation. Lucian crossed his arms and furrowed his brow. "She is your OC alright," he said, "but haven't you forget that she almost killed us earlier?" His tone was accusatory as he spoke, his eyes fixed on you, waiting for a response. "It's not her fault," you shout, feeling defensive. "And if anyone to blame here is me! I wrote her that way and you have no right to say such things!" Your voice trembles with frustration as you try to defend your OC. "Well, I hope you're right about that!" Lucian's eyes narrow, and you notice him glaring at someone behind you. But before you can turn around, an arm slings over your shoulder, and Variel's mocking tone reaches your ears. "Not talking about me, are you?" she asks, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Lucian's arms were tightly crossed as he stared at you, his eyes burning with frustration. Suddenly, his arms uncrossed and he turned his back, his steps heavy as he began to walk away. "Was but not anymore!" he called over his shoulder, his tone laced with anger and disappointment. You watched as he moved further away, his broad shoulders tense with anger. Then, as he passed, he glanced back at you with a look of disbelief, his head shaking slightly. "Also I'm asking Garett to train us to use weapons!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the space between you, then he left. Variel's arm lingered on your shoulder, her grip tightening slightly. "So, please do tell what the two of you are talking about me?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity. You felt a knot forming in your stomach, unsure of how to respond. You shrugged your shoulder in an attempt to remove Variel's arm from your shoulder, but her grip only tightened more. "It's nothing," you said, hoping to end the conversation quickly. Variel's grip on your shoulder tightened, and her nails dug into your skin, causing you to wince. "Oh, little mouse, that doesn't look like it's nothing!" she taunted, her voice dripping with malice. You tried to pull away, but Variel's hold was relentless, and the pain intensified. Your skin stung, and you could feel the pressure building. You clenched your jaw, trying to hide the discomfort, but Variel's smirk widened as she tightened her grip even more, enjoying your discomfort. You gritted your teeth, trying to ignore the pain and frustration that boiled within you. "Can you let me go!" you growled. Variel's smirk widened as she tilted her head, looking amused. "Awww, the little mouse is angry!" she mocked, her tone dripping with condescension. She didn't seem fazed by your attempt to break free, and her grip on your shoulder only tightened, causing a fresh wave of pain to shoot through you. You gritted your teeth and raised your hand to grip Variel's hand, summoning every ounce of strength you had to pry it off your skin. Your fingers dug into her flesh, and you could feel your skin stinging from the pain as you forcefully pulled her hand away from your shoulder. With a determined step back, you put some distance between you and Variel. You saw her licking her nails where your blood stained them, and a twisted smile played on her lips. "Have anyone told you that you're delicious?" she said in a low, almost predatory tone, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips. "Lady Variel!" Garett's voice booms out from behind you, interrupting Variel's unsettling gaze. "Yes?" Variel responds, feigning innocence as her eyes remain fixed on you. "I suggest you saddle up!" Garett commands with authority in his tone, Variel smirks, her eyes glinting with mischief, as she starts to walk in your direction. Your body tenses, your guard up, anticipating her next move. But instead of confronting you directly, she passes you by, stopping beside you. "Be careful, little mouse," she says, her voice dripping with menace, "I'm still expecting dessert from you." With that, she continues walking past you, leaving a trail of unease in her wake. Garett's attention turns to you, his expression filled with concern. "<<print $player_name>>," he says, his voice low and gentle. "Are you alright?" You respond in a grumpy tone, "I'm fine," while still watching Variel disappear ahead in the bustle of the group. Garett gives a nod of acknowledgement towards you, then turns his horse around and rides away to resume his task. The sound of his horse's hooves against the ground gradually fades away, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Your eyes remain fixed on the spot where Variel had vanished. You're amazed at how stealthy she is for a dragon. The thought flickers in your mind as you feel a sudden sharp pain in your forearm, causing you to wince. You glance down and notice a tiny droplet of blood oozing from a small wound. "I don't know whether to be worried or happy that she's like this," you muse inwardly, conflicted by Variel's behavior. Your thoughts drift back to the stories you'd heard about the old Variel, a creature known for her cruelty and tenacity. The forest around you comes alive with sensory details. The rustling of leaves, the chatter of birds, and the soft thud of your heartbeat pulse in your ears. The sweet smell of blooming wildflowers mixes with the damp earthiness of the forest floor. You feel the roughness of tree bark against your back as you lean against a tree, and the cool breeze ruffles your hair. Despite the beauty of your surroundings, your mind remains troubled by Variel's actions. You can't shake the feeling that something isn't quite right, she changed so much. As you push through the pain of your wound, a sharp sting gives way to a dull ache. Crunching leaves and twigs snap beneath your boots as you make your way towards the convoy. The shuffling of feet and clanging of equipment mixes with the rustling of the surrounding trees. The rich, earthy scent of damp soil and decaying leaves fills your nostrils, making you feel grounded in the present moment. Approaching the carts, you hear the creaking of wooden wheels and the jingle of horse reins. The careful clinking of supplies being loaded and secured fills the air, creating a symphony of sound. The gritty texture of rough rope, the cool metal of buckles and hooks, and the soft feel of cloth and leather all brush against your fingertips as you watch the group prepare for the journey ahead. Garett's voice booms through the air, causing you to flinch slightly. You look over to see him shouting orders, his eyes scanning the convoy for any signs of disarray. "IS EVERYTHING IN ORDER?" he bellows, his voice echoing through the surrounding trees. "Yes Boss!" Lee's voice cuts through the air, confident and assertive. He moves with purpose, inspecting each cart and horse with a keen eye. You can hear the sound of creaking wheels and rustling supplies as the group makes their final preparations. The air is filled with the smell of freshly cut grass and the faint scent of horse manure. The sun beats down on your skin, warming it and causing sweat to bead on your forehead. You hear the rustling of leaves and the soft sound of hooves as Garett's horse approaches. His voice booms out in excitement, and you turn your head to face him. "Ahh MC!" he exclaims, his grin spreading across his face. The sound of Beatrice's hooves pounding against the dirt road filled your ears, the rhythm of her gallop punctuated by the occasional snort or whinny. As she approached, you could see the muscles in her powerful legs rippling beneath her sleek coat, and you couldn't help but marvel at her beauty. Garett's voice broke through your reverie, and you turned to see him smirking in your direction. "I think Beatrice is waiting for you!" he teased, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. Beatrice nickered impatiently, as if echoing Garett's sentiment. "You know it's never wise to keep a lady waiting!" he added, chuckling at his own joke. You walk closer and reach out to take Beatrice's reins and feel the smooth leather against your palm. As you rub her mane, you feel the coarse strands between your fingers, the warmth of her body radiating onto your skin. Beatrice lets out a playful snort, and you can hear the sound of air rushing out of her nostrils. Her eyes meet yours, and you can see a mischievous glint in them as she neighs, the sound reverberating through the air. "Don't think that you're off the hook yet!" You chuckle to yourself, shaking your head in amusement. "Sorry about that, girl," you apologize to her, the sound of your laughter mixing with the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. You feel the rough texture of Beatrice's fur as you swing your leg over her back, settling yourself into the saddle. The leather creaks as you shift your weight, and you can feel the warmth of Beatrice's body beneath you. Garett turns to you, the sun casting a warm glow on his face as he gestures towards the front of the convoy. "Now that you're settled!" he says, his voice echoing through the serene atmosphere. "It's time for you to take your position!" You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of fresh grass and earth, and turn to face him. The sun glints off his armor. "You can be at the front with me," he continues, his eyes scanning your face for a response. "And I can certainly use your tracking skills!" "Or, you can take the middle position," Garett continues, pointing towards the center of the convoy. You can see Lady Variel's horse trotting calmly next to the cart, and you catch a whiff of the hay and animals from the supplies. "And finally, you can take the rear," Garett finishes, where you can see Lucian engaged in conversation with a man with fiery red hair. They seem to be having a good time, as you can hear their laughter echoing throughout the forest. You think over your options. As you look at the front, a surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins. You envisioned the wind whipping past your face as you urged Beatrice into a gallop, the rhythmic thud of her hooves echoing in your ears. The anticipation of the open road filled your lungs with a heady mix of excitement and exhilaration. Plus you can use this as a chance to learn more about the Kingdom of Tiara and you can ask him about the Princess and Royal BodyGuard you wish to. Then you glance towards Variel's position in the middle of the convoy, a flicker of anxiety fluttered in your gut. You imagined her piercing red gaze fixed on you, her capricious personality will make your ride a very fun or death defying one. The thought of riding alongside her, with all her intensity and determination, sent goosebumps down on your skin. Maybe is her sadism that got you interested in her or is that you're a sucker for pain. Not to mention you can use this to know the dragon a little bit better. And yet, as you watch Lucian at the back of the group, a warm sense of companionship blossomed within you. The sound of laughter and chatter filled your ears, the tantalizing aroma of campfire smoke lingering in the air. You imagined the comfort of riding alongside a friend, sharing stories and basking in the camaraderie of the journey. Addionally, you haven't know much about your companion and maybe this bonding might remedy that. [[Ride at the front, I want to learn about the Kingdom Of Tiara and as well how my other OC's new personality like]] [[Ride at the middle, Variel is very interesting and I wanna learn more about her, I'm aware of the pain that might happen in this endeavor but maybe deep down I'm a masochist]] [[Ride at the back, even though Lucian is a fan of mine I haven't know a single thing about him and he knows a lot of my life, so I think is only fair if I even the situation]] .

Your fury ignites, boiling over within you as you grit your teeth and clench your fists with an iron grip. The anger pulses through your veins, fueling an uncontrollable desire to lash out. "I wanna fucking kill her!" you exclaim, your voice dripping with venom and frustration. Lee, standing before you, wears a mischievous smirk that dances across his face. He claps his hands together, the sharp sound slicing through the tense atmosphere like a knife. "Well, well," he says, his voice laced with amusement, "then I guess you'll be interested in my proposal." Your impatience oozes through your question, your tone sharp and demanding, "What kind of bet?" Lee's eyes dart around the area, ensuring no prying ears are within earshot. He leans in closer to you, his breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "A bet," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "A bet to see who can take down Variel." Your eyes widen in surprise, a mixture of disbelief and curiosity swirling within you. "What? Why would anyone bet on that?" Lee nonchalantly shrugs, his smirk never leaving his face. "It's just something the others came up with," he responds. "They're all sick of her and her antics. And I know you want a piece of her too." With your arms firmly crossed, you confidently question, "And what makes you believe that I would actually go as far as killing her?" Lee's smug grin widens as he retorts, his words laced with a twisted humor, "Well, you did mention it yourself. And besides, it's not like you have to actually kill her!" As he chuckles, the person says, "If you want, you could even go ahead and fuck her!" The suggestion catches you off guard and your anger flares up. "What?!" you shout, your voice rising with the surge of emotion. But he only smirks and continues, "Yes, you heard me right. How you choose to do it is entirely up to you. Just make sure she gets the message that humans are neither fragile nor pathetic beings." You furrow your brows in anger and confusion as you demand, "But why me?" He muses for a moment before replying, "Well, think about it. You're the one who found her and she seems to be friendly with you." His tone is almost casual, as if he's discussing something trivial. You look at him squarely and ask, "What if I don't agree?" He shoots back with a smirk, "Oh, I think you will. After all, how often do you get a chance to romance with a shape-shifting dragon?" You arch an eyebrow at Lee, skepticism etched on your face. "Oh, so it's a romance now, is it?" you say, crossing your arms. Lee quickly raises both of his hands in front of you, as if to defend himself. "Hey! You said you don't want to kill her, so dominate or conquer is really up to you," he says, his tone earnest. "<<print $player_name>>!" Lucian's voice shouts from behind you. Lee turns to you, a slight smile on his face. "Well, I think we had a productive conversation," he says, starting to walk past you Lee takes a few steps past you. Suddenly, he stops without warning and doesn't even bother turning back to face you. "Oh, one more thing," he says, his voice taking on a dark and foreboding tone that sends shivers down your spine. You can sense the weight of his words as he speaks. "Watch your back," he says, his words dripping with a threatening edge that leaves you feeling uneasy. Without another word, he resumes walking away, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a growing sense of unease. You bit your lip, lost in thought as you mull over Lee's words. Is it a warning or just an advice? You're unsure, but you don't have time to dwell on it further as you hear Lucian's voice calling your name. "<<print $player_name>>, let's go!" Lucian shouts, waving his hand to get your attention. You snap out of your reverie and nod, determined to put Lee's warning aside for now. You start jogging towards Lucian, your footsteps echoing in the distance as you quickly close the distance between you. Your mind is still filled with questions, but for now, you push them aside and focus on catching up with your ally. As you and Lucian walked side by side, he suddenly interrupts you with a serious tone. "Look, <<print $player_name>>," he says, his voice firm and his gaze unwavering. "We need to talk about Variel." You pause, taking in his expression. Lucian's usually carefree demeanor is replaced by a somber intensity, and you realize that he's not taking this lightly. "Ok!" you say lowly. Lucian's voice is low, barely above a whisper, as he speaks to you. "<<print $player_name>>, Variel is not to be underestimated," he says, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger. "She's powerful, cunning, and unpredictable. In other words, she's a real threat to all of us." [[You're right!]] [[What? She's just shy I think?]] [[Lucian why are you speaking such things?]]

As you steady your horse, you feel the wind blowing your hair, and you can't help but smile. "I will ride with you!" you say to Garett with enthusiasm. Garett grins at you. "Then it's an honor riding with an expert dragon such as yourself by my side!" he says sincerely. Suddenly, Lee appears, walking towards you. "Boss, everything is ready and good to go!" he announces. "Thank you, Lee!" Garett acknowledges him with a nod, and Lee positions himself behind the two of you, his black horse trotting. Garett points to a spot beside him. "Alrighty then, <<print $player_name>>, you may position yourself on this side," he instructs. As you move into position, Garett stops beside you. "FORWARD MARCH!" he shouts, and urges his horse forward, with you following suit. The entire convoy trails behind you, and you hear the sound of the whipping reins in the air, carts moving, and the creaking of the woods. As you breathe in the crisp forest air, you feel a sense of tranquility wash over you. Gone are the days of polluted city air and crowded streets, and now it's just you and Mother Nature. Garett notices your contented expression and smiles, "I'm glad you're enjoying the scenery." The sound of his horse's hooves, the rustling of leaves, and the occasional bird call create a symphony of nature that soothes your soul. You can't help but feel grateful for this moment of peace and quiet, surrounded by the beauty of the great outdoors. "It's really great actually," you reply, trying to keep your tone casual. "A new change of pace from my old life in the city." "I can certainly relate," he says with a chuckle, his armor clanking softly as his horse trots along. "I've always been more of a countryside or open field type of person." You raise an eyebrow in surprise. "Really? Even as a lord, you don't enjoy the luxuries of city life?" "Actually, no," he says, watching a bird fly overhead. "Living in a city can be quite exhausting. The noise, the bustle, the hassle of people... it's just not for me." "Just tell them that you're getting old Boss!" Lee cuts in, his laughter ringing out into the open air. "Oh Lee, there's no harm in me sugarcoating my condition!" Garett retorts, his eyes crinkling in amusement. You watch the interaction between the two men, noting the ease of their banter and the obvious closeness of their friendship. Your body shifts in the saddle, feeling more at ease in their presence. "Excuse me, I don't mean to intrude, but you two seem like close acquaintances," you say, pointing a finger between the two. "Well of course, Lee is my friend and my right-hand man!" Garett says, his voice full of pride. "If it's not a bother, can you tell me how you two met? I find it very interesting to listen to other people's stories," you say, genuinely curious. Garett hesitates, glancing back at Lee. "It's a personal topic, but if Lee is willing to share, I have no objections." "So, you want to know our history, huh?" Lee asks, his eyes becomming serious.. "Again, there's no need to if you don't want to," you say, reminding him that he doesn't have to share if he's uncomfortable. "For the love of God, say yes or no!" Lee rolls his eyes and shaking his head. "Also I'm informing that my story might make you uncomfortable so listen at your own discretion!" he warns. ''//(Note: You will given a option to know a little backstory of Garett and Lee in this scenario but as a head up if you pick Yes, you will be given the full story so expect some mentions of child abuse, slavery, murder, kidnapping and etc. In Lee's story. But pick No and you will be given the watered down summary of the story)//'' @@#Hello; ''//"<<link"Yes">><<replace "#Hello">> "Yes! I want to hear the story!" you say bravely and meeting Lee's eyes. "Very well!" he took a deep breath and exhale it. (Lee's Story) As a child, Lee spent most of his free time drawing and sketching in his small room, with a wooden floor that reminded him of the country house he grew up in. He was completely absorbed in his work, using a stylus to create delicate lines on the paper, lost in the world of his imagination. Suddenly, his mother's voice interrupted his focus. "Lee sweetheart!" she called from downstairs. Lee looked up from his drawing and glanced over at his model, a pink flower in a pot, before shouting back, "Yes?" "Can you go to the market to buy some food?" his mother shouted. Lee hesitated for a moment, wanting to finish his sketch before leaving. He raised his fingers and peered through them like a makeshift telescope, studying the plant's every detail. "Wait a sec!" he called back, his focus still on the flower. Lee had always been fascinated by the beauty of nature. As a child, he would spend hours exploring the woods behind his house, picking flowers and examining insects. One day, he stumbled upon a blooming pink flower that caught his eye. He carefully plucked it from the ground and took it back to his room, determined to capture its beauty on paper. With a stylus in hand, Lee traced the curves and lines of the flower onto the page, his brow furrowed in concentration. After what seemed like hours, he finally lifted the paper to examine his artwork. He had managed to copy every detail of the flower - the delicate petals, the sturdy stem, and the small bud at its center. "Much better than the original if I say so myself!" Lee exclaimed proudly, grinning from ear to ear. His missing tooth only added to the charm of his youthful exuberance. His mother's voice sounded more insistent now. "Lee, we need food for dinner tonight. Can you please go now?" Lee sighed and put down his stylus, standing up and stretching his arms. "Alright, alright. I'm coming," he muttered under his breath. Lee approached the door of his room but paused, his eyes drifting to the pink flower sitting on the clay pot by the window. "Well Pinky," Lee said softly, walking over to the flower. "I can say that you have been a wondrous model for my art!" He gently reached for the flower, cupping its petal between his fingers. "Why, thank you Lee," he said in a high-pitched voice, pretending to be the flower. "But it's really you who should be thanking yourself, you're the artist!" Lee chuckled, playing along. "What? No, this is a team effort!" he exclaimed, a wide grin spreading across his face. "LEEEEE!" his Mother shouted from downstairs. "COMINGGGGG!" Lee shouted back, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from the flower. He approached the flower and smiled at it. "See you later Pinky!" he said, playfully saluting the flower. To his surprise, the flower's petals seemed to sway in response, as if bidding him farewell. Lee rushed to the door and closed it behind him, but before he could make it down the stairs, he stopped in front of a framed photo on the wall. The photo captured a man in armor with the biggest smile on his face, and a woman beside him with a child sitting on her shoulder. Lee approached the photo and touched the glass panel, feeling its smooth surface on his skin. He stared at his father's face, feeling a lump form in his throat. "I miss you, Dad," Lee said quietly, as he had done countless times before. But each time he spoke the words, it felt like the wound in his heart opened up and ached. He stood there for a few moments longer, lost in memories of his father, He could vividly recall the night he learned of his father's death in the war. It was a rainy night, and little Lee had been waiting by the window for his father to return home. It was his dad's birthday, and Lee was eager to celebrate it with him. "Relax, Lee," his mother had said. "Your father will be home soon. You don't need to stand watch." "But Mom, how will Dad see the house in the dark and rain?" Lee protested. "Have faith in your father, Lee," his mother laughed. But Lee paid her no mind. He wanted to help his father come home, just like he did every night when he saw his father walking up the steps. "Daddy!" Little Lee would shout, running out to meet him. "Hello, kiddo!" Daddy would scoop Lee up and carry him on his shoulders. "Here to lead me home, kiddo?" Daddy would bop Little Lee's nose. "Stop it, Daddy! I'm not a baby!" Little Lee would protest and giggle. "But you'll always be my baby, Lee!" Daddy would tease. "Stop it!" Little Lee would get tickled by Daddy. "So, kiddo, lead the way!" Daddy would say. "Attention!" Little Lee would shout. "Sir, yes, sir!" Daddy would shout back. "Forward march!" Little Lee would shout, pointing his small fingers towards the house. "Orders received and marching!" Daddy would start marching like a soldier towards the house, his laugh and Little Lee's filling the air. Now, eight years later, Lee was all grown up, but the memories of his father remained as vivid as ever. He could still feel his father's phantom touch, the warmth of his embrace, and hear his laughter. But his father was gone, and all that remained were the memories. Lee tried his best to hold back his tears, to be the strong one for his father. But every time he walked out of his room, he was met with the piercing gaze of his father's photograph hanging on the wall. His smile seemed to mock Lee, taunting him with the promise he had made. How could he be strong when his father's absence felt like a heavy weight on his chest? "Lee, I swear if everyti—" His mother's voice trailed off as she reached the top of the stairs and saw her son hunched over, tears streaming down his face. Lee felt a hand on his shoulder, and then his mother's arms were around him. The warmth of her embrace was like a soothing balm on his broken heart. He didn't know how long they stayed like that, but eventually his sobs subsided and he pulled away, wiping his tears. "I'm sorry, Mom," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "Don't be sorry, sweetheart," his mother replied, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his face. "It's okay to cry. We all miss him so much." Lee nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. It was okay to grieve, to feel the pain of his father's loss. He didn't have to be strong all the time. "I just miss him so much," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know, Lee. I miss him too." His mother's eyes were filled with tears, and for a moment they just looked at each other, sharing the weight of their grief. They sat like that for a while longer, holding each other, until Lee felt his mother's grip loosen. "Look sweetie, can I ask you to watch over the house?" his mother asked him gently. "Why? Where are you going?" Lee sniffled, wiping away his tears. "I'm going to the market to buy our food," she replied softly. "No! I will be the one to do that!" Lee said, his voice getting deeper as he spoke. "It's alright, swee—" his mother began, but Lee interrupted her. "No, I will do it, please!" Lee begged his mother. His mother looked into his eyes and saw the same look of determination and strength that her husband had possessed. "Okay," she said, helping Lee stand up. "Just be careful, and come straight back home." Lee gazed at the photo of his father, his hero, who was a tall and strong man with a warm smile. "I will be strong like you Daddy!" he promised himself. He then left his mother behind and walked downstairs towards the front door. As he opened it, a man stood in front of him, grinning with a creepy smile that sent shivers down Lee's spine. The man was dressed in a rough and dirty tunic, with a large scar on his cheek, and had obsidian black eyes that made Lee feel like he was staring into an endless abyss. The stench of rotten fish emanating from him made Lee's nose scrunch up in disgust. It was clear to Lee that this man was trouble. "Hello, little boy!" the man said, looking down at Lee with his beady eyes. Lee greeted him apprehensively, trying to hold his breath to avoid the awful smell. "H-Hi," he stuttered. "Say, do you know where your mother is?" the man asked, scanning the area behind Lee. "I'm here, Mark!" Lee's mother's voice came from behind. "Go, Lee, before the market gets crowded!" his mother ordered sternly. Lee nodded and slowly passed the man, but couldn't resist taking one last glance at him. "Nice meeting you, little fella!" the man grinned wider, revealing a piece of lettuce stuck between his teeth, and waved goodbye. Lee quickly averted his gaze, looking straight ahead as he walked away. He heard the man's voice behind him as he walked away. "Let's talk business, Martha!" "You here to talk about the d-!" Lee's mother's voice trailed off as he got further away. Lee knew that something was off about the man, and as he continued to walk away, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of business his mother had with him. Lee made his way towards the market, his steps light and quick, eager to get there before the crowds descended upon it. He could hear the merchants already, their voices loud and insistent. "Good day, good sir! Would you care for a look at my wares?" "Fresh fish, fresh fish, come and get it!" Lee tried to avoid their gaze as he walked past, knowing that once they spotted a potential customer, they would swarm like vultures. His eyes scanned the stalls, searching for the one that belonged to their food supplier. The problem with this market was that the stalls changed owners every day, and it was hard to keep track of who was selling what. As he walked, he caught the scent of fresh cut onions and sneezed, tears springing to his eyes. But then, another smell caught his attention, making his stomach growl. He couldn't quite place it, but it was definitely something delicious. Life had been hard since his father had died. His mother had wanted to follow in his footsteps and become a soldier, but she had ultimately decided against it, knowing that no one else would take care of Lee. Money was always tight, and they had to be careful with every coin they earned. As he finally found the stall they were looking for, Lee couldn't help but think back to his father's time in the army. The pay had been good, but the cost had been even higher. A single coin could come at the cost of a single life. But enough of that and Lee decided to focus on the task on hand, the owner caught sight of him and eyes twinkling in familiarty. "Lee! It's good to see you again!" she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with joy. "Hello, Ariel!" Lee replied, a smile spreading across his face. "What can I get you today?" Ariel asked eagerly, ready to help him with his purchase. "I need some quail," Lee responded, knowing that it was a cheaper alternative to chicken but just as delicious. "Alright, wait for a second," Ariel said, disappearing into her stall to retrieve the quail. As Lee waited, his attention was caught by a girly voice coming from the stall two down to the right. He turned to see a young girl around his age, waving some portraits in the air. "Art is the medium of the soul!" the girl exclaimed, trying to entice customers to take a look at her artwork. The man in front of her quickly dismissed her, causing her to hang her head in disappointment. But as she turned around, her eyes met Lee's, and a spark of curiosity ignited within him. Lee approached the stall, admiring the colorful portraits displayed on the table. "Did you make these?" he asked the girl, his eyes filled with wonder. "Yes, I did," the girl replied, a smile spreading across her face. "I'm Lily." "I'm Lee," he said, extending his hand for a handshake. "It's nice to meet you, Lee," Lily said, taking his hand and shaking it. Lee's eyes wandered to the portraits she was holding. They were all different and unique, but there was one in particular that caught his attention. It was a portrait of a dragon, breathing fire, with eyes of emerald green and scales of ruby red. "That's really good," Lee said, pointing to the dragon portrait. "Thank you!" Lily beamed. "Do you want to buy it?" Lee shook his head. "I don't have enough money right now." "Well, if you want, you can have it for free!" the girl, Lily, said, holding out a portrait that seemed to glisten in the sun. "Free?" Lee asked, surprised. "Yup, think of it as an investment! So that when you come back, you know who to ask for a portrait or a drawing even!" Lily explained with a grin. Before Lee could say anything, Ariel's voice cut through the air. "Lee, where are you?" Ariel called out, her voice tinged with concern. "Sorry, I gotta go!" Lee said, turning to leave. "Bye, cutie pie!" Lily called after him, causing Lee to stop in his tracks. He turned to face the girl, but she was already back to haggling with a woman over the price of her art. Shaking his head, Lee made his way back to Ariel's stall, the portrait tucked under his arm, he thought that maybe his ears are playing tricks on him but deep down in his heart he knew that Lily called him a cutie pie. "There you are!" Ariel said, handing Lee a net with quail inside. "Thanks!" Lee said, reaching for the quail. Ariel's eyes caught sight of the portrait tucked under Lee's arm. "Say, is that the little girl's work?" she asked, pointing to the painting. Lee looked down at the portrait and nodded. "Yup!" he said, feeling proud of the gift. "Well, I can say that girl has taken a shine to you, Lee!" Ariel said, clasping her hand together. "You're the first boy she's given any art to, for free!" "You're joking?" he asked, incredulously. Ariel shook her head, still giggling. "Nope, she's serious. I know that girl since she was very little.." Lee turned his head to see Lily waving her portraits in the air, her face glowing with excitement. He couldn't help but smile at the sight. As he looked at her, he realized that he hadn't really taken a good look at her before. But now, he saw her in a whole new light. He felt like he was looking at Pinky, his favorite model, except this time it was Lily. Her green eyes sparkled like the forest he often visited in the morning, and her dimples popped out when she pouted. Her smile was contagious, and Lee found himself grinning in return. Then Lily spotted Lee, she waved and started to walked towards him. Lee seeing that Lily is fast apporaching, the joy and admiration he felt earlier was shattered and replaced by nervouseness and terror. "She's coming!" Lee whispered frantically to Ariel. "Don't worry, Lee. This is a good thing," Ariel said, waving at Lily. "But I'm not ready to talk to her!" Lee protested, his voice trembling. Ariel chuckled, amused by Lee's reaction. "You did great when you accepted her gift. You can talk to her, Lee." Lee shook his head, feeling overwhelmed. "No, no, no. I can't." "Okay, okay. I'll distract her, and you can run away," Ariel said, grinning. "But what about your payment?" Lee asked, reaching for his pocket. Ariel shook his head, refusing Lee's offer. "No need for payment. Consider it a gift from me." Ariel winked at Lee, patting him on the back. "Go now, before she catches you. God knows how persistent Lily can be when she finds something or someone interesting." As Lee started to run in the opposite direction, he could hear Lily's sweet voice calling out to him, sweet as candy to his ears and like a hammer to his heart. "Leee!" He couldn't help but smile, feeling giddy and embarrassed at the same time. "Bye, Ariel!" he shouted, feeling grateful for Ariel's help. Lee's heart was pounding as he sprinted away from the market, his feet pounding against the ground with each step. His mind was racing with thoughts of Lily and what Ariel had said about her liking him. He couldn't believe it. Why would someone as interesting and talented as Lily ever take a shine to someone as plain and boring as him? As he ran, he spotted a large oak tree in the distance and made a beeline for it. Once he reached it, he pressed his back against the rough, spiky bark and tried to catch his breath. The cool shade provided some relief from the hot sun, and he felt the gentle rustle of leaves brushing against his skin. His heart was still pounding as he took a peek to see if Lily was following him. He shook his head, realizing how foolish he was being. There was no way Lily would be chasing after him. He was just an ordinary boy, nothing special. But then he remembered Ariel's words. "Lily takes a shine on you!" The thought made Lee's heart skip a beat. Was it possible that Lily actually liked him? Lee sat down on the grassy ground, feeling the leaves brush against his skin. He couldn't stop thinking about Lily's smile, the way she had looked at him when she gave him the portrait. He had to find a way to talk to her again, to see her beautiful green eyes up close. But for now, he just sat there, lost in his own thoughts and the beauty of the nature around him. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and Lee couldn't help but smile at the thought of Lily. It was like something out of a storybook, a moment he would never forget. Speaking of Lily, Lee remembered the gift that she bestowed upon him, so he untuck the portriat under his arm and appraise it. As he sat on the ground and holding the painting before him, he felt a sense of awe wash over him. The dragon stood tall on a mountain, its wings spread wide behind it, as if ready to take flight at any moment. Lee could almost feel the power radiating off the canvas. The scales on the dragon's body were a deep crimson red, glinting in the light, and the horns on its head were sharp and pointed. Its mouth was open, revealing rows of sharp teeth that looked as if they could tear through anything in their path. Lee studied the painting intently, taking in every detail. He could almost feel the heat of the dragon's fiery breath on his skin. As he looked closer, he noticed the intricate details of the scales, each one perfectly rendered, reflecting the light in a way that made them seem almost alive. But what drew Lee's eye most of all was the dragon's eyes. They were fierce and intense, like two glowing emeralds set deep within its skull. Looking into them, Lee felt a sense of familiarity, like he had seen them before. It reminded him of Lily's eyes, bright and sparkling, full of warmth and affection. As Lee was admiring the dragon in the portrait, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. He thought it was just another customer from the market, but as the footsteps got closer, Lee recognized the familiar voice of Lily. "There you are Lee!" Lily said with a smile on her face. Lee felt his heart race as he jumped forward in surprise, the portrait he raised into the air and protecting it with his life, turning around to see Lily standing there. He was suddenly tongue-tied, his brain unable to form any coherent thoughts as he struggled to say something to her. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a stuttered jumble of words. "Uh, h-hi, L-Lily," he managed to say, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I-I didn't expect to see you here." "I was looking for you," Lily said, her eyes shining with curiosity. "Also, I haven't have the chance to ask, what do you think of the portrait I gave you by the way?" Lee looked down at the portrait in his hands and his eyes widened in awe. "It's amazing, Lily," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Lily beamed at him, and Lee couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked with the sunlight hitting her face just right. He felt his heart racing and his palms sweating. "I'm glad you like it," she said, a smile spreading across her face. Lily's smile widened, and Lee felt like he could melt under her gaze. "Also, Why did you run away?" Lee's eyes widened as Lily's expression changed from curiosity to suspicion. She crossed her arms, and her body language made her look like a fierce lioness ready to pounce on her prey. But instead of feeling intimidated, Lee just watched her in awe. Lee contiuned to admire Lily, taking mental notes of every detail. He noticed the slight curve of her lips as she pursed them in frustration, and the way her eyebrows raised as she demanded an explanation from him. Mesmerized by her beauty. He traced the curve of her cheekbones, taking in the angle of her jawline and the way her long lashes fluttered against her porcelain skin. Her fiery red dress billowed in the wind, and her chestnut brown hair cascaded down her back in loose waves. He was too entranced by the way she moved, the way her body shifted with each gesture. "Maybe I will draw Lily a sketch portrait later!" Lee thought to himself. Lily snapped her fingers in front of Lee's face, pulling him out of his trance. "Lee, did you hear me?" she demanded. Lee blinked and shook his head, trying to clear the fog from his mind. "Yeah, sorry about that!" he said sheepishly. "So, why did you run away?" Lily pressed, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. Lee sat up straight and put down the portrait beside him. "I'm just... scared, okay?" he confessed, feeling embarrassed and vulnerable. "Scared to talk to you, scared of saying the wrong thing" Lee confessed and feeling embaresed by his answer, what would Lily think of him. "Weak?" "Coward?" "Pathetic?" "Wooh, Thank Goodness, I thought I was the only one!" Lily exclaimed with a loud laugh, her eyes sparkling with relief. Lee's jaw dropped in disbelief. He never expected someone like Lily, who seemed so confident and outgoing, Lee just saw how Lily deliver her sales pitch with confidence and pride in the market. "Wait, you're afraid of talking to me?" he asked, his voice laced with shock. Lily nodded shyly, her body starting to shift uncomfortably in place. "Yeah, I'm afraid you will found me boring and annoying," she admitted, her face reddening bit by bit. Lee's heart swelled with empathy. He had never thought of Lily that way. In fact, he had been drawn to her vibrant personality and the way she saw the world with a unique perspective. Before he could say anything, Lily abruptly spoke up. "Alright, it was nice meeting you! Stop by the stall and talk to me, and let's make art together! Nice meeting you, jeez, I already said that!" She rushed through her words, talking fast like the wind and chaotic like a whirlwind. Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and ran away, shouting a quick "Bye!" over her shoulder. "You Idiot!" Lee swears he heard Lily swears and saw her face-palming herself as she runs away. Lee sat on the ground, still dumbfounded by the turn of events. Earlier, he had been afraid of Lily, but now Lily was afraid of him. But in that moment, he realized that they were more alike than he had ever thought before. And maybe, just maybe, they could help each other overcome their fears and create something beautiful together. (Intermission) "That's so cute!" you said, your voice ringing out with glee. But then you noticed the somber tone in Lee's voice and the concern etched on his face. "But where's Garett?" you asked, hoping to lighten the mood. "Patience MC!" Lee said, forcing a chuckle. "We get there but is a meeting between us both which I'm grateful and sad," Lee continued, the hint of a frown creasing his brow. As Lee spoke, the atmosphere around him grew darker. The sun still shone brightly and the leaves rustled gently in the trees, but it felt as though a shadow had fallen over them. "You got this Lee!" Garett said, trying to offer his support. "Thanks Boss!" Lee managed a weak smile, but it quickly faded as he continued. "Remember the part my Mother meeting that shady guy?" "Yeah?" you said. "It turns out my Mother asked for a loan and Mark returned to collect," Lee said in a grim tone. The weight of his words hung heavily in the air. (Resume Story Of Lee) Lee and Lily perched on a tree trunk, a pristine canvas resting on their laps, a palette of colours on the ground beside them. As they worked, the gentle breeze brought with it the sweet fragrance of flowers and the rustling of leaves. "Alright, let's see each other's work!" Lily said, turning towards Lee. Lee's eyes widened with fear, clutching his portrait tightly to his chest. "What, no!" "Don't be like that, Lee! Here, let me show mine first!" Lily said, turning her sketchbook to Lee. As Lee gazed at Lily's artwork, he gasped. The portrait was a near-exact copy of his face, right down to the most minute details. The creases in his forehead, the sharp angle of his jaw, and the playful twinkle in his eye were all captured perfectly. It was as though Lily had channeled his entire being into the artwork. But as he looked closer, he realized that Lily had added a few touches of her own. His nose, which he had always been self-conscious about, had been given a softer curve, making it look more endearing than ever before. And his lips, which he had always thought were too thin, were now plumper, with a hint of a smile. "Ugly right?" Lily says and chuckling nervously. "Its beautiful!" Lee exclaims and tilting his head to look at Lily, those emerald eyes shining in curiousy. Lily looks at Lee. "Thanks!" She twirls a small lock of her caramel hair in her fingers, a blush slowly creeping onto her cheeks. "But don't think that your compliments will change my mind on seeing your work!" Lily demands. Lee chuckles, nervous to show his work. With a gulp, he turns the portrait around and hands it to Lily. "Take it!" he says. Lily remains quiet at first. "Is this how I look to you?" she ask, her tone serious. "I'm sorry, Lily, I don't mean—" Lee starts to say before Lily interrupts him. "It's pretty!" Lily exclaims. "Uh?" Lee says, surprised. Lily turns the portrait around, and Lee sees what she meant by pretty. Lee has managed to capture every feature of Lily's face perfectly. Lee had captured her face with such detail and precision that it took her breath away. Every curve, every line, every shadow was there, making her look like a queen from a fairy tale. Her almond-shaped eyes shone bright, with the green flecks sparkling like emeralds in the sun. Her hair, a cascade of caramel waves, framed her face like a halo. The delicate curve of her nose and the fullness of her lips made her look like a goddess. Lily couldn't believe it was her own face staring back at her, as if she were looking into a mirror. She felt a warmth spread through her body, from her cheeks to her toes, and couldn't help but smile at Lee. "Lily, you're so beautiful," Lee whispered without thinking. Lily's face turned red at the compliment, and she tucked a lock of her caramel hair behind her ear. "Lee, stop it, you're making me blush." Lee couldn't believe the words that came out of his mouth. He felt his cheeks grow warm as he realized he had let slip something he had been holding back for a long time. Lily looked at him with a mixture of surprise and curiosity, and Lee knew he had to seize this chance to express his feelings. Taking a deep breath, Lee looked into Lily's emerald eyes and spoke from the heart. "Lily, I've been meaning to tell you for a while now, but I never found the courage. The truth is, I've had feelings for you since the day we first met in the market. Your beauty and your talent never cease to amaze me, and I can't help but feel drawn to you." "I feel the same way too!" Lily confessed, her voice filled with warmth and affection "Yo-!" Before he could say anything, Lily closed the distance between them and planted a kiss on his lips. At first, Lee was taken aback, but then he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. The kiss was sweet and gentle, like the breeze that was blowing through the leaves of the trees above them. Lee's heart was overflowing with joy and happiness. He knew in that moment that Lily was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. As they parted, Lee looked into Lily's eyes and saw the same love and affection that he was feeling. They smiled at each other, knowing that they had just taken the first step in what would be an amazing journey together. Lily was still catching her breath from the unexpected kiss when she finally managed to gather her composure. "So same time for tomorrow?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Same place, I'll be here!" Lee replied with a grin. Lily couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Promise?" she asked, feeling her heart race with anticipation. Lee leaned in and gave Lily a gentle peck on the cheek. "Promise," he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously. Lee and Lily reluctantly parted ways, each step heavy and measured as they savored the warmth of the moment. The sun was beginning to set, casting a beautiful blend of orange and yellow hues across the sky. Lee viewed the world as if it were his own personal canvas, finding beauty and value in everything around him. As he walked, Lee couldn't help but smile as he thought about Lily. Her features had been etched into his mind, and he couldn't wait to see her again tomorrow. The thought of her soft lips on his made his heart skip a beat. Lost in his thoughts, Lee suddenly stumbled over a rock, nearly losing his balance. He laughed at himself, realizing he had been so absorbed in his thoughts of Lily that he had forgotten to watch his step. As he regained his footing, he looked up at the sky and breathed in the fresh evening air. Life was good, and he was grateful for this moment with Lily. Straightening his collar and brushing off the dirt from his clothes, Lee resumed his journey back home. As the night sky enveloped the world, he couldn't help but shiver from the biting cold that accompanied it. With each step, he grew more eager to reach his home, his sanctuary from the world outside. As he approached the familiar house, however, a sense of dread began to settle in the pit of his stomach. The lights were all extinguished, and there was no sign of his mother waiting for him on the porch as she usually did. Lee's heart began to race with worry. "Mom?" he called out, his voice echoing through the quiet area. When there was no answer, he fished out his key from his pocket and unlocked the front door. The darkness swallowed him whole as he stepped inside. "Mom?" he called out again, this time with more urgency. As Lee stepped into the darkened house, his heart sank as he saw his mother sitting in a chair, her face bruised and a cloth gagging her mouth. Her eyes widened with panic and relief as she saw her son. "Mhmpppp!" she tried to say through the cloth, her eyes pleading with Lee. Without hesitation, Lee rushed over and removed the gag, allowing his mother to cough and catch her breath. "You shouldn't have come back home, Lee," she warned, her voice trembling. But it was too late. The door closed with a loud thud, enveloping the room in darkness. Lee heard a match being dragged on a surface behind him, and he knew that he was not alone. He turned around and saw the face of the man who had haunted his nightmares for years: Mark. "Hello, Lee," Mark said, his voice dripping with malice. The scar on his cheek was gone, replaced by a gash that looked like it had been made by a knife. Some of his teeth were missing, and his smile was creepy and unsettling as ever. He stepped in front of his mother, trying to protect her from whatever danger Mark represented. "What are you doing here?" Lee asked, his voice trembling. Mark strode across the room, his footsteps echoing in the dark, musty space. He lit a candle, casting flickering light across the room. "Well, I'm here to collect a debt, Lee!" Mark said, his words dripping with menace. Lee's hand instinctively went to his pocket, feeling the smooth surface of the stylus he had used earlier. If things turned violent, at least he was armed in some way. "What debt?" Lee pressed on, hoping to get some answers. Mark plopped down on the couch and folded his legs, looking like a sinister spider lurking in the shadows. "The debt your mother borrowed from my employer," he said cryptically, still not giving them the answers they needed. Lee's heart pounded in his chest, fear and anger coursing through his veins. He could feel the cold sweat breaking out on his forehead as he stepped closer to Mark but still arm reach for his Mother and his eyes never leaving the man's face. "What employer?" he demanded, his voice low and menacing. Mark merely smiled, the flickering candle casting eerie shadows across his features. "That, my dear Lee, is not for you to know. All you need to understand is that your mother owes a debt, and it's time to pay up." "I'm sorry Lee, I wish it didn't have to come to this!" Lee's Mother broke out into sobs, her eyes begging for forgiveness. Lee's hand tightened around the stylus in his pocket, his knuckles turning white and testing its sharp point. "How much do we owe?" he asked, trying to stay calm despite the rising panic in his chest. Mark uncrossed his legs and leaned in close, his foul breath making Lee gag. "Too much," he said, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "And even if you gave everything you have, it still wouldn't be enough." Lee's heart sank. He knew what was coming next. "Then how will we pay you?" he asked, dreading the answer. "You will suffice," Mark said, his voice dripping with malice. Suddenly, Mark snapped his fingers, and two hulking figures emerged from the shadows. One carried chains, while the other wielded a wooden baton, tapping it menacingly against his palm. Lee couldn't see their faces, but the weapons they held spoke volumes about the brutality they were willing to inflict if he didn't comply. Lee's heart sank as he heard his mother's desperate plea. He had never seen her so vulnerable and helpless. He wished he could protect her from the cruel realities of life. But as Mark approached them, the stench of his rotting teeth and unwashed body made Lee's stomach churn. "Please not my boy!" Mother pleads desperately. "As I want to, Martha, but my employer wants the boy!" Mark's voice was like a sharp blade slicing through the air. Lee's mind raced, trying to think of a way out of this situation. He knew he couldn't let his mother suffer any longer. He had to make a sacrifice, but he didn't know if he had the strength to do it. "I will come with you," Lee finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you have to give me your word that you will leave my mother alone and clear her debt, including all the interest." Mark's grin grew wider, and Lee felt a chill run down his spine. He knew he was making a deal with the devil, but he had no other choice. "Lee, please, don't do this," his mother begged, holding on to him tightly. Lee gently pried himself from his mother's embrace, feeling his heart break with each tug. He turned to face Mark, his eyes full of determination. "Just promise me that my mother will be safe," Lee said, his voice firm. Mark nodded his head, his grin never leaving his face. "You have my word, boy." The two men from behind you, walked and stopped in both of your sides, ensuring that you will not escpare and no funny business. Mark open the door. "Let's go, I have still a money to collect from other people." he says, grinning. "NOOO!" Mother growled, sounding like a wild animal. In a desperate attempt to protect her son, she grabbed a pen from the table and charged towards the man with a chain. "You bitch!" the man curse. The man blocked the attack with his forearm, and the sickening sound of flesh being squeezed and twisted filled the air. Lee watched in horror as his mother was struck on the head with a wooden baton, the sound of a bone crunching echoing in his ears. She fell to the ground, face-first, blood pooling around her head. Lee stood motionless, his heart shattered as he watched his mother lay there, lifeless and still. He slowly reached into his pocket and grabbed his stylus, his hand shaking with rage. Without thinking, he charged at the man with the baton, tackling him to the ground. He straddled the man's chest and brought the stylus down on his eyes, the anger and anguish within him fueling each blow. The man tried to defend himself at first, but with each strike, he grew weaker, and eventually stopped fighting back. Lee continued to plunge the stylus into his eyes, not stopping even though the man beneath him is motionless. Lee's breathing was ragged as he sat atop the motionless man, the anger and anguish still simmering within him. Suddenly, he felt the sharp blade of a knife against his cheek, and he froze. "I think he's already dead, boy," Mark chuckled, the knife still pressed against Lee's skin. Lee's body trembled with rage as he turned around, his stylus raised in the air, ready to strike. But before he could make a move, Mark delivered a swift front kick that sent him flying backwards, crashing onto the tabletop. Lee quickly got up, his body still shaking with fury, and charged at Mark again, but he was met with a sharp knife pointed at his face. Mark chuckled, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Now, I see why the Chief likes you, kid," he sneered. "You got some fighting spirit in yah." The man who Lee's Mother had stabbed managed to remove the fountain pen from his arm, casting it aside with a roll into the darkness. "You and me got a score to settle!" the man yelled, seething with anger. He raised his arm, the chains attached to it clinking and dragging on the ground. "Hold!" Mark commanded, rotting the man in place. "He killed my friend, Mark!" the man fumed, his eyes blazing with hatred. "I know, Rick, but the Chief's orders are law, and we must abide by them. You know the penalty do you not?," Mark warned. Rick yanked his shoulder away from Mark's grip. "I'm gonna kill him when I get the chance!" he growled. "Don't worry, you'll get your chance when the Chief throws this mutt into the fighting pit. And if you want, you can join too!" Mark said with an unsettling, gleeful tone. The sound of chains dragging on the ground echoed through the room as Rick glared at Lee with murderous intent. "Promise me Mark!" Rick grabs the cloth of Mark, his eyes filled with rage. "By my honor!" Mark replies cooly.. "Good, now what we're gonna do with him!" Rick returns his attention to Lee, his breathing heavy and labored. Mark's eyes follow suit, and he reaches down to grab Lee by the hair. "Next we gotta deliver the package," he says, his tone cold and calculating. But before Lee can react, Mark kicks him in the face with a sickening thud. Lee's body goes limp, and he loses consciousness. The room falls silent, except for the sound of Rick's heavy breathing and the soft footsteps of Mark as he moves to collect the package. Lee's eyes fluttered open, his head throbbing from the pain. He felt a cold sensation on his face, and then another bucket of water splashed onto him. He gasped, jolting upright as the water drenched him, and he looked up to see Mark standing before him with a wicked grin. "Time to wake up, kid," Mark said, his voice echoing in the desolate surroundings. Lee groaned as he tried to sit up, but the chains around his wrists and ankles held him down. He looked around and saw that he was in an cell, surrounded by metal bars and dimly lit torches. "What...what's going on?" Lee asked, his voice hoarse. Mark sneered at him. "You're in the Chief's fighting pit, boy. You're here to show off your skills and prove your worth." Lee's eyes widened in disbelief as he listened to Mark's words. "You're asking me to kill for sport? To satisfy some sick, twisted desire of your Chief's?" he spat out, his voice shaking with anger. Mark's grin grew wider. "You catch on quick, kid. That's exactly what he wants. And if you don't do it, he'll find someone else who will. And trust me, you don't want to know what happens to those who refuse his orders." "You have a choice, kid," Mark said, leaning in even closer. "Either you do what the Chief wants and reap the rewards, or you face the consequences. It's that simple." "You can't be serious," Lee said through gritted teeth. "I'm not some mindless killer. I won't do it." Mark's smile widened even further, and he leaned in close to Lee, his voice low and menacing. "I want you to embrace that anger, kid. I want to see the same bloodlust in your eyes that I saw when you took down my man with that fucking stylus. That's what the Chief wants too, and trust me, you don't want to disappoint him." Lee's chest heaved as he tried to contain his rage. "I won't do it," he growled through gritted teeth. "I won't become a killer like you." He looked up at Mark, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and rage. Mark's face twisted into a cruel smile. "Oh, but we can and we will, kid. And you will do it, or you will suffer the consequences. Remember Rick? He's not too happy with you after you killed his friend. And now, he will be your opponent in tonight's match." "Good, I will correct my Mother's mistake and aim for his heart!" Lee says and still trying to reach Mark. Mark chuckles and shake his head. "That is a good motivation!" he muse. "I have high hopes for you kid and don't let me down. Mark turn his back around but stopping in place. "Oh I almost forgot, Lily and Ariel seems to be looking for you and it would break my heart if I need to displine you through them!" Mark says in a casual tone but Lee stop shaking the chains and became still and quiet. Lily the love of his life and Ariel a good friend to him and his Mother, Mark knew about his life and it made him sick thinking that Mark will involve other people. Lee froze at the mention of Lily and Ariel, his loved ones who were completely innocent in all of this. Mark's sadistic enjoyment at the thought of harming them made Lee sick to his stomach. "Good dog!" Mark taunted, walking away with a smug smirk on his face, leaving Lee alone in his cell, The sound of Mark's footsteps echoed through the dimly lit corridor, as he walked away from Lee's cell. Lee could feel the cold, hard metal of the chains that bound him to the wall digging into his flesh. He knew he had no choice but to fight in the upcoming match. Lee's mind was racing as he stared at the chains holding him back. His heart was pounding in his chest, the weight of the situation heavy on his shoulders. He had never been a violent person, but circumstances had changed that. He thought back to earlier that day, to the moment when he watched his Mother die in front of his eyes and did nothing. The pain and anger that had consumed him in that moment now fueled his determination. "So it comes to this, fight or die and dragging Ariel and Lily with me!" Lee ponders, his eyes darting around the dark and dingy room. A sense of unease settled in the pit of his stomach as he thought of the two women he cared about most being dragged into this mess. But he knew he couldn't back down. He had to protect them, no matter the cost. Lee's eyes narrowed with determination as he channeled his anger into focus. "If they want to see me kill, then so be it!" he shouted with conviction. He took a deep breath, his mind clear and focused. He had lost his mother and father already, and he wouldn't let Ariel and Lily be taken from him too. If it meant another human being's life, then so be it. The room was dark, save for a dim light that flickered overhead. Lee sat on the cold concrete floor, his back against the wall, waiting. He had been waiting for what felt like hours, but time seemed to stretch on endlessly in this place. Lee's eyes grew heavy and he struggled to keep them open. He was exhausted from the events of the day, but he dared not let his guard down. As he fought to stay awake, the silence of the room was only broken by the occasional sound of rats scurrying along the walls. Lee couldn't help but wonder if he would end up like those rats, trapped in this place, fighting for survival until his dying breath. Eventually, Lee's exhaustion got the better of him and he drifted off to sleep. But even in his dreams, he could hear the sound of chains rattling and the screams of men in pain echoing in the distance, it seems he was not alone in this word. The door to the hallway creaked open with a loud metallic bang, causing Lee to jump to his feet in anticipation. He could barely make out a figure approaching him through the dimly lit room, but as it drew closer, Lee recognized the man's face - it was Rick. Carrying a food tray, Rick stopped in front of Lee and slammed it down on the ground, sliding it within his reach. "Eat!" he growled, his eyes blazing with anger. Lee's stomach grumbled at the sight and smell of the freshly cooked bread, meat stew, and cheese on the plate, but he hesitated, wondering if the food was poisoned. "It's not poisoned, and if I wanted you dead, I could have killed you earlier!" Rick snapped, as if reading his thoughts. "And besides, I want you to die by my hand, slow and painfully." Lee eyed the food warily, but hunger got the better of him. He tentatively picked up a piece of bread and took a small bite, feeling the soft texture and the warmth of the freshly baked dough in his mouth. It had been hours since he had eaten anything substantial, and the taste of the stew made him feel almost human again. As Lee ate, Rick sat down across from him and watched him silently, his expression unreadable. Lee couldn't help but feel uneasy, as if he was being judged by the man who wanted him dead. After a few moments, Rick spoke again. "You know, you're not the first one to come here to pay a debt," he said, his voice low and menacing. "But most don't make it out alive. You're a lucky one, Lee. You get a chance to fight for your life." Lee finished the last of the stew and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He knew that he had to fight, and he had to win, or else his life would be forfeit. As Rick stood up to leave, he turned to Lee and gave him a menacing smile. "I'll see you in the ring, Lee," he said, before turning on his heel and walking out the door, leaving Lee alone in the dark, unsettling room once again. "Wait!" Lee shouts. "Why do you want me dead?" Lee asked, his voice filled with curiosity. "You killed my friend!" Rick replied with a snarl, his eyes narrowing. Lee's eyes widened with shock. "Your friend killed my Mother!" he retorted, his anger bubbling to the surface. "I guess we're even then!" Rick replied with a shrug of his shoulders, as if he had just settled a debt. "Bullshit!" Lee spat out, his fists clenched at his sides. "Your friend is nothing compared to my Mother!" His voice rose with fury, echoing off the cold metal walls. Rick quickly turned around on his heel and gripped the metal bars, his knuckles turning white with anger. "Don't you dare," he hissed through gritted teeth. "That friend of mine is like a brother to me. When my parents died, he took me in as his own." Lee could see the pain etched on Rick's face, and he knew then that he wasn't the only one with a tragic past. But his sympathy was short-lived as Rick added, "Also, don't think I'm getting soft on you. I brought you that food so that you will be in your full strength when I take your life. So that the feeling of revenge will be fulfilling and not shallow." Lee's laughter echoed through the room, bouncing off the cold, hard walls. Rick's expression twisted with frustration. "What's so funny?" he demanded, his voice rising. Lee's laughter slowly died down as he looked at Rick, his eyes filled with a twisted sense of amusement. "Nothing much, I just find it quite humorous that two boys are hell-bent on killing each other because they lost the ones they love at the hand of the other," Lee said, his voice laced with a hint of madness. Rick's expression softened, his eyes narrowing as he considered Lee's words. "The fates do have a sick sense of humor, don't they?" he mused, his voice quiet and contemplative. Lee's grin turned sour as he studied Rick's face. He could see the conflict in his enemy's eyes, the doubt that lingered behind his confident facade. It was a small victory, but it was a victory nonetheless. Lee knew that he had to keep chipping away at Rick's resolve if he wanted to survive. The silence between them was tangible, broken only by the sound of their breathing and the distant drip of water. Lee stared at Rick, waiting for him to make a move, to give him some kind of indication of what was to come. But Rick remained still, his eyes locked onto Lee's. Suddenly, Rick's expression shifted, and he turned to leave. "I'll see you in the ring, Lee," he said, his voice cold and menacing. Lee slumped against the cold metal bars, his stomach full but his mind racing with fear and uncertainty. He heard the heavy metal door slam shut at the far end of the hallway, and he knew that he was alone in the dark once more. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his racing thoughts. If they wanted to kill him, then so be it. At least he would be free from this torment and suffering. Lee lay on the cold, hard ground, his eyes half-closed and his breathing shallow. He could feel his body weakening and his mind slipping away into darkness. Suddenly, a whisper echoed in his ear, so soft that it could have been a figment of his imagination. But Lee couldn't ignore it. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he felt a shiver run down his spine. "Don't give up, Lee," the voice said. It was gentle and soothing. "You can do this." Lee's heart pounded in his chest. He tried to speak, but his mouth was dry and his throat was tight. "You're stronger than you think," the voice continued. "Don't let them break you, my son." Lee's eyes flew open, but there was no one there. He was alone in the dark, with only the sound of his own breathing to keep him company. But the voice lingered in his mind, haunting him like a ghost. Lee lay in the darkness, his mind racing with thoughts and questions. Was the voice real, or just a hallucination brought on by the stress and fear of his situation? He couldn't be sure. As he tried to push the whisper out of his mind, it would come back, like a persistent itch he couldn't scratch. Was it the place, with its unsettling aura, that was playing tricks on him? Lee shifted uncomfortably on the hard, cold floor, trying to get comfortable enough to drift off to sleep. But as he closed his eyes, he strained to hear the voice once more, hoping for some reassurance, some guidance in this frightening place. Then Lee was embraced by the lull of sleep. Lee's eyes widened as cold water drenched his face and clothes, jolting him awake. He bolted upright, gasping for air and wiping the water from his eyes. As he blinked away the moisture, he saw a figure standing outside his cell, illuminated by the dim light of a nearby lamp. Lee's voice was hoarse as he spoke. "Mark," he said with a mixture of anger and annoyance. "What do you want?" hee glared at Mark through the cold steel bars, his eyes narrowing into slits Mark's expression was unreadable as he gazed at Lee through the bars. "I just came to see how you're doing," he said with a smirk. "You're not looking so good, Lee. I guess prison life isn't treating you well." Lee clenched his fists, his body tensing with rage. "Get to the point," he growled. "Yeesh, so rude!" he says with a chuckle. Lee gritted his teeth. "You're sick." Mark chuckled, crouching low to the ground, his menacing presence looming over Lee. "I guess, but I'm not the one who's gonna kill somebody tonight." Lee's muscles tensed as Mark leaned in closer. "And I don't need to tell you what's at stake if you lose," he threatened. "Don't you dare involve them!" Lee shouted, struggling against the chains that held him in place. Mark's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Then don't make me, boy. Win, and they'll live. But lose..." He let the threat hang in the air, unsaid but heavily implied. Just then, the metal door banged open. "It's time, Mark. Fetch the kid!" a voice shouted from afar. Mark straightened up, his expression gleeful. "Well, kid, it's showtime," he said. Mark stood up, dusting off his pants and pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it to Lee, who caught it with a confused look on his face. "Use that to get out of your chains," Mark said, a dark glint in his eye. "But remember, you're only delaying the inevitable. You will fight, and you will kill." Lee's hands shook as he fumbled with the key, feeling the cold metal press against his palm. With a sharp turn, the lock clicked open, and the chains clattered to the ground with a deafening noise. He rubbed his sore wrists. "Go through the door at the end of the room," Mark rising to his feet and turning around on his back. "And kid, good luck. I'll be rooting for you." then he walked forward. Lee waited for Mark to leave before he exited his cell. Lee's blood boiled at the words, but he kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to give Mark the satisfaction of seeing him lose control. He took a deep breath and strode towards the far end of the room, his eyes scanning his surroundings. The walls were made of concrete, and the only light came from a torch that are lined up on the walls.. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and blood, and Lee could hear the distant sounds of cheering and jeering. He knew what was waiting for him on the other side of the door: a ring surrounded by bloodthirsty spectators, all eager to see him fight to the death. Lee pulled the handle of the metal door, and the roaring sound of the audience hit him like a wave, causing him to cover his ears with his hands. "There's my champion!" Mark taunted, his voice barely audible over the crowd's noise. Two massive men grabbed Lee by the arms, making him move forward towards the ring. One of them held a spear, and Lee could feel its cold metal against his skin. "Now, kid, you gotta lose the shirt!" Mark commanded, pointing at Lee's clothes. "Why?" Lee demanded. "Because we gotta see some skin and blood when that skin of yours gets cut," Mark replied, his grin growing wider. This wasn't just a fight - it was a spectacle, an entertainment for the twisted audience. Lee clenched his jaw and peeled off his shirt, exposing his bare chest to the cold air. "Looking hot me boy!" Mark laughs. "Now pick your poison!" Mark steps to the side and revealing a array of weapons that is displayed on the walls. Lee's eyes widened as he gazed upon the deadly arsenal hanging on the walls. The weapons were old, rusty, and stained with dried blood. He could almost hear the screams of the victims who had met their end at the hands of these instruments of death. Lee hesitated for a moment, his heart racing as he tried to choose the weapon that would give him the best chance of survival. He saw swords, axes, maces, and spears, all looking equally deadly. He reached out tentatively towards a sword, his fingers brushing against the cold metal. But as he looked closer, he saw the caked-on blood that covered the blade and quickly withdrew his hand. Next, he considered an axe, but it was too heavy for him to wield with any speed or accuracy. He felt the weight of the weapon pulling him down as he struggled to lift it. Finally, his gaze landed on a sickle with a curved blade, its edge glinting in the dim light. As he examined it more closely, he noticed the hammerhead attached to the opposite end of the handle, making it a deadly combination of both a sharp blade and a blunt force weapon. As he reached out to take it, Mark's voice cut through the silence. "That's a warhammer, Lee," he said with a cruel smirk. "We redesigned it to make it more gruesome, added a sharp sickle blade to the front. Giving you the sharp edge you need." Lee's hands gripped the sycthe warhammer with a fierce determination. The weapon felt heavy at first, but as he swung it back and forth, he felt it becoming an extension of his own body. Memories flooded back into Lee's mind, back to the days when his father would take him out to the fields and teach him how to wield a spear. Lee could still see his father's face, his stern yet caring expression as he patiently instructed his son on the proper form and technique. "Remember, Lee, keep your feet firmly planted on the ground," his father would say. "And use your whole body to guide the spear, not just your arms." Lee's father would watch closely as Lee practiced, offering gentle corrections and encouragement. Those days were some of the happiest moments of Lee's childhood. But now, as Lee gripped the sycthe warhammer in his hands, he knew that the stakes were much higher than just practicing for sport. This was a matter of life and death. The sycthe warhammer looked fearsome in Lee's arms, the long, slim body of the weapon reminding him of the spears his father had taught him to wield. But the sharp, curved blade at the end added a deadly new dimension. "You're ready kid!" Mark says and slapping the back of Lee. Lee's fingers curled tightly around the scythe, his knuckles turning white as he tried to control his shaking hands. He knew that he could end Mark's life with a single swing of the deadly weapon, but he also knew the consequences that would follow. "Stand in front of the gate," Mark ordered, pointing to the metallic grate that loomed in front of them. Lee nodded, his eyes fixed on the gate as he stepped forward. The scythe felt heavy in his grip, but he knew that he had to be strong if he wanted to survive. He lifted the weapon, testing its weight and balance as he prepared to face whatever lay beyond the gate. His fingers tightened around the handle, feeling the rough texture of the rusted metal against his skin. As he stood there, ready to fight for his life, Lee couldn't help but wonder what his father would think of him now. Would he be proud of the man he had become? Or would he be disappointed in the violent path Lee had taken? Lee's heart pounded in his chest as he stepped through the gate and into the arena. The circular space was lined with sharp sparks on the walls, preventing any possibility of escape. Torches flickered and cast eerie shadows on the faces of the spectators. The crowd roared like a beast, hungry for blood. The announcer's voice boomed through the horn, his words dripping with excitement and anticipation. "Ladies and gentlemen! Tonight, you are in for a real treat! You will witness two boys, fueled by nothing but vengeance and anger, fight to the death!" The gate on the opposite end of the arena creaked open, and Rick emerged from the shadows, his body tense and ready for the fight ahead. His weapon of choice was a flail and shield, an unusual but deadly combination. Lee watched as Rick made his way towards him, the sound of metal hitting metal ringing in his ears. The crowd grew louder, egging the two boys on, their bloodlust reaching a fever pitch. Rick's eyes gleamed with a cold, calculated rage. "You will pay," he spat out, his voice barely audible over the deafening roar of the audience. Lee clenched his fists, his muscles coiled and ready to strike. "I have no regret killing your friend," he growled back, his voice low and menacing. Rick's flail whistled through the air as he gained momentum, each swing bringing him closer to the blood he craved. Lee hefted his scythe warhammer over his shoulder, his eyes fixed on his opponent's every move. The announcer's voice boomed through the horn, sending shivers down the spines of everyone in the arena. "Fight!" he bellowed, his words accompanied by the deafening cheers of the bloodthirsty crowd. With a primal roar, Rick charged forward, his flail whirling through the air like a deadly tornado. Lee sidestepped his opponent's attack and swung his hammer in a wide arc, but Rick was too quick. He ducked and spun, the flail connecting with Lee's chest and sending him staggering backwards. Blood flowed from the wound, soaking Lee's chest and dripping onto the ground. But he refused to let the pain slow him down. Lee adjusted the grip on his scythe, his eyes fixed on his opponent. With a deep breath, he raised it high above his head, and began to spin it around, faster and faster until it became a blur. Rick watched, his shield raised in defense, trying to gauge if he should rush at Lee or hold his ground. Suddenly, Lee released his weapon, twirling and spinning the scythe in his hand like a whirlpool. Rick brought his shield up to intercept the attack, but with each block, his body shook from the impact. He could hear the wood on his shield being cut, splinters flying everywhere. The scythe was sharp and deadly, and Rick knew that if he didn't find a way to disarm Lee soon, he would be dead. The crowd roars as Lee continues his deadly dance, swinging his sythe warhammer with precision and power. Rick tries to block each attack with his shield, but the impact of the blows shakes his entire body and he can feel the pain radiating through his arm. "Lee is a force to be reckoned with! He's like a whirlwind out there, folks!" the announcer shouts excitedly, his voice echoing through the arena. Lee lands a glancing blow on Rick's thigh, causing a shallow cut that starts to bleed profusely. Rick grimaces in pain but doesn't back down, swinging his flail in an attempt to catch Lee off guard. "Ooh, that's going to leave a mark! Looks like Rick's bleeding pretty badly there," the announcer comments, his voice tinged with a hint of sadistic pleasure. The two boys continue to trade blows, each landing painful strikes on the other's body. Lee manages to graze Rick's shoulder, leaving a deep gash that spurts blood across the arena. "Another hit from Lee! This boy is relentless, folks! He won't stop until he gets his revenge!" the announcer cries, his excitement growing with each passing moment. Lee and Rick stand at opposite ends of the arena, their bodies exhausted and battered from the intense fight. Their weapons, once fierce and deadly, now hang limply in their hands. The sweat on their skin reflects the flickering torchlight, making them look like glistening statues. "Seems like our fighters need to catch their breath, ladies and gentlemen," the announcer says with a chuckle, his voice amplified by the horn. The crowd responds with a mixture of laughter and cheers. "But here in the Arena of Vengeance, we don't believe in breaks - unless it's to break some bones!" he adds, his tone darkening. "Let's see who will emerge victorious from this fight to the death!" As the crowd roars, Lee and Rick slowly circle each other, their eyes locked in a deadly stare. Suddenly, Lee lunges forward, swinging his scythe warhammer with all his might. Rick blocks the attack with his shield, but the force of the blow sends him stumbling backwards. Blood drips from the gash on Rick's forehead, his skin already bruised and battered. Lee's body is not in a much better condition, with several deep cuts on his arms and chest, blood oozing out of them. The announcer's voice booms through the arena, "It's anyone's game now! Who will emerge victorious, and who will be left to bleed out in the dust?" The announcer's voice booms through the arena, his tone sinister and foreboding. "That's the sweet thing about the Arena of Vengeance, where there are no rules, and the only limit is your own survival." The audience roars in approval, but the announcer seems dissatisfied. "But I think this is starting to bore us, don't you think, folks?" he asks, taunting the crowd. "Let's add some spice to the mix, shall we?" "BLOOD...BLOOD...BLOOD!" the people roars in unison. Suddenly, the gates of the arena burst open, and five massive boars charge out, their long and sharp tusks glinting in the dim light. Lee and Rick quickly realize that this isn't just a fight to the death anymore - now they're fighting for their lives. The five massive boars emerge, snarling and drooling, their sharp tusks glinting in the harsh light. The scent of fresh blood fills the air, and the crowd's collective roar grows deafening. Rick and Lee exchange a horrified glance, realizing that their fight has just taken a deadly turn. They scramble to their feet, their bare skin vulnerable to the boars' deadly tusks. The announcer's voice echoes through the arena, his tone dark and twisted with excitement. "Oh, this just keeps getting better and better! Who will survive this fight to the death? Will it be the fierce boars or our two shirtless gladiators?" Lee and Rick begin to circle the boars, their eyes darting from side to side as they search for an opening. The beasts charge forward, their muscles rippling with raw power, and the two young men jump out of the way just in time. Rick slams his shield into one of the boars, the impact sending the beast flying across the arena. Lee slashes at another with his scythe warhammer, his blow glancing off the boar's thick hide. Blood continues to flow freely from the wounds on both of their bodies, adding to the already slick and sticky ground. The boars charge again and again, forcing Rick and Lee to dodge and weave in a deadly dance. The announcer's voice booms through the speakers once more, "I've never seen such a thrilling fight in my entire career! The stakes have never been higher, and the blood has never flowed so freely! Blood drips down Rick's chest as he stands facing Lee, both of them surrounded by a horde of snarling boars. The air is thick with the metallic scent of blood, and the crowd's shouts and jeers are drowned out by the sound of angry grunts and snorts. The announcer's voice cuts through the chaos. "Looks like our fighters are uniting against a common foe!" he bellows, drawing a chorus of boos from the crowd. "Don't be like that, folks! Maybe one is just waiting to stab the other in the back!" The boys locked eyes, their breathing ragged and labored, as they faced the horde of charging boars. They moved in perfect unison, back to back, keeping the boars at bay and sidestepping the charging ones, their backs sticking to one another like glue. "Don't think you're off the hook Lee!" Rick shouted, his voice strained. "Really? Revenge still?" Lee replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You killed my friend, Lee. I'll never forget that," Rick growled, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Lee smirked, his eyes glinting with malice as he raised his weapon. "Your friend killed my mother," he spat, lunging forward and slashing his blade across Rick's chest. Rick stumbled back, his blood spilling onto the ground, but he quickly regained his footing and charged forward, shield raised. Lee sidestepped Rick's attack and swung his weapon, slicing a deep cut across Rick's shoulder. The two boys circled each other, their breathing ragged and labored. Lee thrust his weapon into the head of a charging boar, and the blade sank deep into its flesh. Rick slammed his flail into the side of another boar, sending it crashing to the ground. The two locked in a bloodthirsty battle while evading the charging boars. Blood dripped from their wounds, staining the ground beneath them. "Why are we even fighting?" Lee gasped, dodging another boar's charge. Lee bared his teeth. "This is Mark's fault and his boss!" he roared, slicing through another boar with a brutal stroke. Rick remained silent for a moment, then spoke. "Truce?" he asked. "Truce!" Lee nodded his head, a temporary agreement formed between them. Together, the two boys moved in perfect harmony, their weapons a blur as they fought side by side. They sliced through the boars with expert precision, their cuts deep and deadly. The audience roared in excitement as they witnessed the boys' impressive display of skill and teamwork. The announcer's voice echoed through the arena, crackling with anticipation. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is a turn of events we've never seen before! Our two warriors have managed to unite against a common enemy - the vicious boars that have torn many contenders apart! But the question remains, will they continue to fight against each other once the boars are gone?" Rick and Lee stand side by side, panting heavily as they survey the bloody scene around them. The ground is littered with the carcasses of the boars they had just slain, their own blood mingling with that of their fallen foes. Then Rick kick Lee to the side unexpectedly, causing Lee to fall to his knees. As Lee struggles to rise to his feet, Rick suddenly kicks him hard in the side, sending him tumbling to the ground. Lee gasps in pain, clutching his ribs as Rick stands over him, his eyes glinting with a vengeful fire. The announcer's voice booms through the speakers, "It looks like the truce is broken, folks! Rick is on top now, and Lee is down for the count!" Rick steps forward, pressing his foot down onto Lee's chest, pinning him to the ground. Lee tries to push him off, but his strength is fading fast, and his breaths come in short, ragged gasps. This is the final act, the grand finale, the curtain call, the climax!"The announcer's voice reverberated through the stands, accompanied by the sound of clapping and joyful hollers. The crowd is on the edge of their seats, cheering and shouting as the tension mounts. It's clear that something is about to happen, something that will determine the fate of these two bitter rivals. As Rick leans down, his face twisted in a snarl of rage, Lee looks up at him, his eyes glinting with a mix of fear and defiance. "You can't do this, Rick," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. But Rick doesn't listen. With a cold, calculated motion, he raises his weapon high, preparing to strike the final blow. The announcer's voice rises to a fever pitch, his excitement and anticipation palpable. "It all comes down to this, ladies and gentlemen! Will Rick exact his revenge, or will Lee find a way to turn the tables?" The tension is unbearable, the air thick with the promise of violence. But suddenly, Rick hesitates. His grip on his weapon falters, and his eyes flicker with doubt. "Finish him Rick!" Mark's voice booms over the speakers, urging Rick to deliver the final blow. For a moment, Rick hesitates. Memories of his friend flood his mind, and his grip on his weapon tightens. Lee's eyes widen in fear as he struggles to breathe under Rick's weight. Blood seeps from his wounds, staining the ground beneath him. "It's not worth it," Rick says, his voice hoarse with emotion as he looks down at Lee. "We both lost too much already." then he steps back, removing his foot from Lee's chest. "You ungratful brat!" Mark shouts and a bolt strike Rick on the shoulder causing him to get on his kness. Lee look to see Mark holding a crossbow. "Kill him or die in his place." Mark shouts and prepearing to load another bolt to his weapon. "Fuck You!" Rick shouts in grunts. Rick's body trembles as he struggles to get up, blood oozing from the wound on his shoulder. Lee watches in horror as Mark aims the crossbow at his former friend. "Kill him or die in his place," Mark snarls, his finger tightening on the trigger. "Fuck you!" Rick roars through gritted teeth, refusing to go down without a fight. But just as Mark is about to fire, an explosion rocks the arena, sending knights rushing in from all directions. Their armor glints in the dim light as they brandish swords and shields, ready to take down any who stand in their way. "Round up these filth!" A voice shouts in a comanding tone. Lee lay on the ground, gasping for air as he clutched his bleeding wounds. The smell of sweat and blood filled his nostrils.. As the knight approached, Lee could see that he was young, perhaps not much older than Lee himself. His hair was a dark brown, cropped short, and his eyes were a piercing blue. His armor was polished and gleaming in the sunlight, and he carried a sword at his side. "Are you alright?" the knight asked, kneeling down beside Lee. Lee's eyes widened as he studied Garett's face. He was a strikingly handsome man, with piercing blue eyes and chiseled features that seemed carved from stone. He had short, sandy blonde hair that was neatly styled, and a strong jawline that looked like it could cut through steel. "Yes, but my friend is wounded," Lee replied, raising a finger and pointing to Rick, who lay nearby, still bleeding from the bolt in his shoulder. The knight called out to one of his men, "Rex, get a healer and tend to that man!" "What's your name?" the knight asked, turning his attention back to Lee. "Lee," he replied, his voice hoarse. "What brings you to this place, Lee?" Garett asked, his voice deep and commanding. "You're a long way from home." Lee gasps for breath as Garett helps him sit up, cradling his head in his hand. Blood and dirt caked his throat, making it difficult to speak. He coughs, wincing at the pain in his chest. "I was taken here by force!" Lee manages to rasp out. Garett's eyes soften with sympathy. "I know, lad. I saw it all. You don't have to worry now, you're safe." He reaches into his satchel and pulls out a flask of water, pressing it to Lee's lips. The cool liquid washes away the dirt and blood, and Lee feels a bit better. "Easy now, take your time," Garett says, holding the flask steady. "You're safe now, and we'll get your friend taken care of too." Lee nods gratefully, feeling the warmth of kindness from this stranger. As they wait for the healer to tend to Rick's wounds, Garett listens intently as Lee recounts the events that led them to the fighting pit. His expression turns grim as Lee describes the cruelty of their captors and the injustice of the situation. "I can't promise you justice," Garett says, his voice low and solemn. "But I can promise you this - I'll do everything in my power to help you and your friend." Lee drifts in and out of consciousness, he can feel himself being lifted and carried by strong arms. He tries to open his eyes but the world around him is blurry and distorted. The pain from his wounds is pulsing through his body, each movement causing him to wince. Garett's kind and gentle voice breaks through the haze. "Hang in there, Lee. You're going to be alright. I'm taking you to a safe place where you can rest and heal." Lee tries to nod but the pain is too much. He feels like he's slipping away again, but the sound of Garett's voice is a lifeline that keeps him tethered to reality. As they make their way through the chaos of the arena, Lee can hear the sounds of battle all around them. The clash of swords, the screams of men, the thunderous roar of horses. It's a symphony of violence that seems to echo through the very bones of the earth. Lee's world goes dark as he loses consciousness, but he can still feel the hands holding his body and carrying him. His mind races with thoughts of revenge and justice for what happened to him and his friend. When he comes to, he's lying on a soft bed, the wounds on his body bandaged and clean. Garett is sitting beside him, a kind and caring look on his face that reminds Lee of a mother sparrow. "How are you feeling?" Garett asks, his voice gentle. Lee winces as he sits up, feeling the pain in his body. "I've been better," he says with a weak smile. Lee winced in discomfort as he struggled to sit up. Pain coursed through his body, but he didn't care. He had to know why this stranger was helping him. "Why are you helping me?" he managed to ask, his voice weak. Garett's eyes softened as he looked at Lee. He could see the confusion and pain in the boy's face, and he knew that he had to do everything in his power to ease it. "My mother always told me to help the unfortunate," he said, his voice gentle. "And I plan to do so in honor of her memory." Lee's eyes widen at the mention of Garett's mother, sensing a deep pain in his voice. He looks at Garett's face and sees a glimmer of sorrow and longing in his eyes. "She must have been a great woman," Lee says softly, trying to show empathy towards the man who just saved his life. Garett smiles weakly at Lee's words. "Yes, she was. She always believed in helping those in need, no matter who they were. I am merely following in her footsteps," he says with a hint of sadness in his voice. "Thank you, Garett," Lee says sincerely, "for everything you've done for us. We won't forget this." Garett nodded, a small smile on his face. "Take your time to rest until you have your strength back," he said, before turning and leaving Lee's side. As Lee lay back down on the bed, his thoughts swirled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. The events of the day had left him shaken and weary, but there was a glimmer of optimism in his heart. Perhaps, just perhaps, he could find a new life beyond the hardship and pain he had endured. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his injuries and the exhaustion from the fight begin to lift from his body. For the first time in a long time, he felt a sense of peace and closure. As he drifted off to sleep, he couldn't help but smile at the thought of a new life ahead of him. Maybe he would even ask Garett if he could be of service to him, as a way of showing his gratitude for his kindness and aid. But for now, he decided, it was best to rest and let tomorrow bring whatever it may. (End Story) As the convoy travels through the forest, you feel a cool breeze rustling through the trees, and the sweet scent of blooming flowers wafts through the air. The horses' hooves make a soft thud against the ground, and you can hear the chirping of birds in the distance. "That's...That's!" you say, struggling to find the words. "Tragic?, Sad? Pitiable?" Lee asks, his voice soft and empathetic. "I was gonna say a happy ending, but you just need to ruin it, don't you?" you say, trying to lighten the mood. "Haha, I apologize for that!" Lee says, chuckling. As you ride, a man approaches Lee, looking concerned. "Excuse me, Sir Lee?" he says, trying to get Lee's attention. "Please, Lee is just fine!" Lee says, smiling at the man. "Lee, Lucian needs your help!" the man says, his voice urgent. "Why?" Garett asks, concerned. "Because Ray and Carl are bullying him, Lee!" the man says, his voice filled with frustration. "Haha, those two can't resist picking on a fresh face!" Lee chuckles, guiding his horse away from the procession. "Well, Garett, I think I need to leave you for now and let you answer MC's questions!" Lee says, winking at Garett. "Of course!" Garett says, blowing a kiss at Lee. You watch the exchange with bulging eyes, feeling like you've just witnessed something intimate. [[Continue|Questions 2]] <</replace>><</link>> ''//"<<link"No">><<replace "#Hello">> "Maybe a summary may suffice!" you say to Lee. "Very well!" he replies. ''(Summary Of The Story)'' As a young boy, Lee was seemingly mesmerized by the kaleidoscope of colors and patterns in nature. Whenever he had free time, he would sketch the wonders of the world around him in his small room with a wooden floor, reminiscent of his childhood home. He could often be found delicately creating lines with a stylus on paper, lost in his own realm of dreams and imagination. At that moment, his mother's voice called from downstairs and urged him to buy food at the market. Caught between wanting to finish capturing his current subject – a vibrant pink flower which he had found growing in the nearby woods – and abiding by his mother's wishes, Lee eventually chose to obey her command despite his reluctance. Lee hastily scurried to the door and slammed it shut, his heart pounding. He glanced around the room, stopping at a framed photograph mounted on the wall. It was an old faded black and white photo of his father in glimmering armor with a broad smile adorning his face, beside him stood his mother with a child perched on her shoulder. Lee gently touched the glass panel, feeling its serene texture beneath his fingertips. His eyes were fixated on his father's beaming visage as he felt a painful lump forming in his throat. "I miss you dad," Lee whispered softly, uttering those same words countless times before. But each time they left his lips, it felt like a deep wound re-opened and bled anew. He stayed there for a few more minutes, lost in reverie of the man he had loved dearly. Lee entered the bustling market, his eyes drawn to the many stalls selling goods of every kind. As he searched for the stall they were looking for, memories of his father's time in the army flashed through his mind; the price of a single coin, the cost of a single life. Shaking off his thoughts, Lee noticed Ariel standing at her stall and smiled in recognition. Her eyes twinkled with joy as she greeted him warmly, and asked what he needed. Lee requested quail, the cheaper alternative to chicken that was still just as delicious. Ariel disappeared into her stall to collect it while Lee waited, but his attention was soon drawn to a young girl shouting excitedly from an adjacent booth. She waved portraits in her hands, her voice ringing out: "Art is the medium of the soul!" It seemed she was giving customers a chance to take a look at her artwork. In this scene, Lee visits a market and bumps into an old acquaintance who runs one of the stalls. He requests some quail and then notices another stall nearby with a young girl advertising artwork. Lee slowly approached the stall, gazing at the magnificent artworks displayed on the wooden table. "Did you make these?" he inquired with awe, following up with an introduction as to who he was. "Yes, I did," the girl replied, a warm grin spreading across her face. "I'm Lily." The boy extended his hand for a handshake and Lily returned it in kind. His gaze then moved towards a portrait of a mighty dragon; its eyes were shimmering like emeralds and its scales glinted like rubies. With admiration etched into his expressions, Lee praised the workmanship before him. "That's really good," he said before being offered to have the portrait free of charge as an investment for when he returns for more artwork from Lily. Right then, Ariel cut through their conversation as she called out for him worriedly. "Sorry, I gotta go!" Lee said hastily, turning away to meet up with Ariel. Lee hastened his way to his house, longing for the solace it provided from the outside world. But when he saw that the lights were off and no sign of his mother on the porch as usual, trepidation began to sink into him. He called out her name but was met with silence. Taking a deep breath, he gathered up his courage and unlocked the door, stepping inside. A chilling scene greeted his eyes as he beheld his mother seated in a chair, her face swollen and gagged by cloth. Her eyes bulged with panic and relief at seeing her son. Lee hurriedly removed the gag and she swallowed a few breaths before warning him not to have come back home. Just then, a loud thud emanated from behind them – they were not alone anymore. When Lee spun around, Mark stood there with an intimidating smirk on his face, and scars exchanged for new gashes made by a knife. He uttered menacingly, “Hello, Lee” as terror filled every part of him. As the crowd's roar filled the stadium, Rick emerged from the shadows, his body tense and ready for battle. He held a flail and shield in his grasp-- an unusual but deadly combination. Lee watched Rick advance with a cold, calculated rage in his eyes. "You will pay," Rick spat out, just barely audible over the crowd. Lee responded firmly, "I have no regret killing your friend," as he hefted his scythe warhammer over his shoulder, and braced himself for the fight. The announcer bellowed "Fight!," triggering cheers and cries of excitement from the spectators. As Rick's flail whistled through the air, gaining momentum with each swing, Lee tightened his grip on the scythe warhammer, determined to triumph over his opponent. In this scene two boys fueled by nothing but vengeance and anger come face-to-face in an arena, where they must fight to the death at the behest of a bloodthirsty crowd. As the crowd's roar filled the stadium, Rick emerged from the shadows, his body tense and ready for battle. He held a flail and shield in his grasp-- an unusual but deadly combination. Lee watched Rick advance with a cold, calculated rage in his eyes. "You will pay," Rick spat out, just barely audible over the crowd. Lee responded firmly, "I have no regret killing your friend," as he hefted his scythe warhammer over his shoulder, and braced himself for the fight. The announcer bellowed "Fight!," triggering cheers and cries of excitement from the spectators. As Rick's flail whistled through the air, gaining momentum with each swing, Lee tightened his grip on the scythe warhammer, determined to triumph over his opponent. After a hours of many fighting the 2 decided to set aside their differences but Mark in anger lash out Rick by firing a bolt on his shoulder. Suddenly knights rushed the arena and from there Garett met Lee. ''(End of Summary)'' As you ride, a man approaches Lee, looking concerned. "Excuse me, Sir Lee?" he says, trying to get Lee's attention. "Please, Lee is just fine!" Lee says, smiling at the man. "Lee, Lucian needs your help!" the man says, his voice urgent. "Why?" Garett asks, concerned. "Because Ray and Carl are bullying him, Lee!" the man says, his voice filled with frustration. "Haha, those two can't resist picking on a fresh face!" Lee chuckles, guiding his horse away from the procession. "Well, Garett, I think I need to leave you for now and let you answer MC's questions!" Lee says, winking at Garett. "Of course!" Garett says, blowing a kiss at Lee. You watch the exchange with bulging eyes, feeling like you've just witnessed something intimate. [[Continue|Questions 2]] <</replace>><</link>>'' @@

"You're right!" you exclaim, nodding your head in agreement with Lucian. "Yeah, I knew you would see it my way!" he says, a wide grin spreading across his face. "I'm gonna ask Garett to train us in the art of weaponry!" he announces with excitement. "Weapons?" you repeat, your interest piqued. "Absolutely!" he thrusts his arm into the air with enthusiasm. "I can't wait to learn how to fight and defend myself properly!" Lucian leaned in close to you, his voice hushed with a sense of urgency. "Also," he whispered, "We should be careful around Variel." He quickly glanced around, as if afraid that speaking the dragon's name might summon her. You nodded in agreement, your eyes darting around as well. "Yes," you murmured, "I agree. She can be quite...unpredictable." Lucian chuckles, his eyes flickering mischievously. "I think unpredictable is not the only word that fits her!" he says. But before you could respond, Variel cuts in with a sultry voice, her breath tickling your skin, "I agree. I'm beautiful, confident, powerful, and a great tactician!" She turns to face you, her piercing gaze locking with yours. "You should consider yourself lucky to have me accompany you," she adds with a playful smirk. Lucian's voice rings out in a panicked shout, "Scatter!" His sudden movement and frantic footsteps create a small cloud of dust as he runs straight ahead, leaving you alone with Variel. You feel your heart pounding against your chest as you turn to face the dragon woman, her towering figure casting a shadow over you. The sun glints off her shimmering scales, making her look even more imposing and terrifying. "What loyal friend you have little mouse!" Variel's lips curve into an arrogant smirk as she regards you, her eyes glinting with amusement at the sight of your fear. "Yup, he's a pretty loyal friend!" you shout, trying to mask the growing concern in your voice. Your eyes scan the area, hoping to catch a glimpse of Lucian's familiar figure. But as the moments tick by, there's no sign of him. A sinking feeling settles in your chest, and you feel a knot forming in your stomach. "Don't worry, I'm nothing like your friend, little mouse!" A wicked grin spreads across Variel's face as she approaches you, her eyes narrowed into slits of crimson. You take a step back, feeling the hairs on the back of your neck rise at her predatory demeanor. "How so?" you say, taking a few steps back with cautious movements. Your eyes never leave Variel's predatory gaze as she stalks forward. "Don't you know that curiosity killed the mouse!" she says with a hint of malice, her eyes narrowing into slits of crimson. She stalks towards you, her footsteps measured and deliberate. The air around her seems to hum with a dangerous energy as she draws closer, her body coiled and ready to strike. "I can show you a demonstration right now," she taunts, her voice dripping with arrogance and confidence. In an instant, Variel was in front of you. Her thin, pale fingers clasped around your hand and squeezed tightly, her pointed nails cutting into your skin. You felt a stab of pain followed by a warmth that grew as a single drop of blood beaded up on the surface. You could smell it, and Variel seemed to savor the aroma, her eyes widening with what looked like delight.. You glared at Variel, your voice rising in anger. You clapped a hand to the small cut on your arm, hissing as pain shot through you. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Variel put her finger in her mouth, her lips forming a seductive pout as she made a sucking noise that echoed in your ears. The sound made your face scrunch up in disgust, but you couldn't look away as she pulled her hand out and made a sharp clicking noise with her tongue. Variel's expression twisted into one of disappointment as she shook her head, causing her long hair to sway. She brought her finger up to her mouth and made a disgusted face as she tasted the blood on it, then rubbed it off on her dress as if it was a nuisance. Her disappointment expression quickly turned into a sinister one as she took a few steps closer to you. She licked her lips and her sharp teeth gleamed in the dim light. "I expected something sweeter," she muttered. "But I wonder what the other parts of you taste like?" she asked, her tongue darting out to lick her teeth. Your heart thunders in your chest as you take a step back, your legs feeling like they might give out at any moment. "Help somebody!" you try to shout, but the words get caught in your throat, only managing to escape as a high-pitched squeak. Variel's chuckle echoes in the air, and you feel a cold shiver run down your spine. Her crimson eyes remain fixed on you, examining you with an intensity that makes you feel exposed and vulnerable. It's as if she sees right through you, like you're a piece of meat on display in a butcher's shop. As you continue to back away, your voice fails you, reduced to nothing more than a squeak of terror. But Variel's laughter only grows louder, and she takes another step closer, her predatory grin widening. "Haha, the little mouse shouting for help, how scrumptious!" she taunts, relishing in your fear. "Lady Variel!" as Garett's voice echoes through the air, Variel's movements come to a halt, freezing her in place like a statue. Her crimson eyes remain locked onto you, unblinking and intense, as you turn to see Garett atop his horse, watching the two of you with rapt attention. "Yes?" her eyes not leaving you "I suggest you saddle up!" Garett says sternly. "Very well!" she says calmy. As you stood before Variel, your body was drenched in sweat, the salty droplets streaming down your face and stinging your eyes. You blinked furiously, trying to clear your vision. Without warning, you felt Variel's face drawing closer to yours, the sensation gripping you in fear. You jumped back, startled by the sudden proximity, losing your balance in the process. Your arms flailed wildly in the air as you stumbled backwards, your heart racing in your chest. Just as you were about to hit the ground, Variel caught your hand, her grip tight and unyielding. Her nails dug into your skin, the pain causing you to inhale sharply through your teeth. You could feel her strength as she held onto you. "Careful little mouse!" she says in a gleeful tone. "I wouldn't want my intriguing tracker to have a concussion on their head," Variel taunted, her voice ringing in your ears. The gleeful tone in her voice grated on your nerves, making your skin crawl with unease. Variel released her grip on your hand, her fingers digging into your skin before she turned her back on you. You watched her, hesitant to move, as she raised her hand in the air. The way she held herself, with an air of confidence and control. "This tastes marvelous!" she taunted, the sound of her voice echoing through the area. You couldn't help but feel like a pawn in her game, a toy to be played with at her leisure. The taste of fear on your tongue was bitter and acrid, and you felt it welling up inside you. "Fear adds a certain flavor to life, don't you think little mouse!" Variel's words were laced with menace, her movements smooth and calculated as she moved away from you. You felt a coldness settle in your chest as you watched her go, wondering what she had in store for you next. You were in a state of alertness, eyes glued to Variel's retreating form. Her quick movements had caught you off guard before, and you didn't want to let it happen again. Suddenly, Garett's voice jolted you out of your thoughts. "<<print $player_name>>!" he called out. Despite his call, you remained fixated on Variel's figure disappearing amidst the bustling crowd. "You alright?" Garett asked, concerned. "I'm fine!" you finally responded, tearing your gaze away from Variel and turning to face Garett. Garett gives a nod of acknowledgement towards you, then turns his horse around and rides away to resume his task. The sound of his horse's hooves against the ground gradually fades away, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You hesitate, unsure of Variel's true intentions towards you. Your heart races, and you take a deep breath to steady yourself. As you push through the pain of your wound, a sharp sting gives way to a dull ache. Crunching leaves and twigs snap beneath your boots as you make your way towards the convoy. The shuffling of feet and clanging of equipment mixes with the rustling of the surrounding trees. The rich, earthy scent of damp soil and decaying leaves fills your nostrils, making you feel grounded in the present moment. Approaching the carts, you hear the creaking of wooden wheels and the jingle of horse reins. The careful clinking of supplies being loaded and secured fills the air, creating a symphony of sound. The gritty texture of rough rope, the cool metal of buckles and hooks, and the soft feel of cloth and leather all brush against your fingertips as you watch the group prepare for the journey ahead. Garett's voice booms through the air, causing you to flinch slightly. You look over to see him shouting orders, his eyes scanning the convoy for any signs of disarray. "IS EVERYTHING IN ORDER?" he bellows, his voice echoing through the surrounding trees. "Yes Boss!" Lee's voice cuts through the air, confident and assertive. He moves with purpose, inspecting each cart and horse with a keen eye. You can hear the sound of creaking wheels and rustling supplies as the group makes their final preparations. The air is filled with the smell of freshly cut grass and the faint scent of horse manure. The sun beats down on your skin, warming it and causing sweat to bead on your forehead. You hear the rustling of leaves and the soft sound of hooves as Garett's horse approaches. His voice booms out in excitement, and you turn your head to face him. "Ahh MC!" he exclaims, his grin spreading across his face. The sound of Beatrice's hooves pounding against the dirt road filled your ears, the rhythm of her gallop punctuated by the occasional snort or whinny. As she approached, you could see the muscles in her powerful legs rippling beneath her sleek coat, and you couldn't help but marvel at her beauty. Garett's voice broke through your reverie, and you turned to see him smirking in your direction. "I think Beatrice is waiting for you!" he teased, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. Beatrice nickered impatiently, as if echoing Garett's sentiment. "You know it's never wise to keep a lady waiting!" he added, chuckling at his own joke. You walk closer and reach out to take Beatrice's reins and feel the smooth leather against your palm. As you rub her mane, you feel the coarse strands between your fingers, the warmth of her body radiating onto your skin. Beatrice lets out a playful snort, and you can hear the sound of air rushing out of her nostrils. Her eyes meet yours, and you can see a mischievous glint in them as she neighs, the sound reverberating through the air. "Don't think that you're off the hook yet!" You chuckle to yourself, shaking your head in amusement. "Sorry about that, girl," you apologize to her, the sound of your laughter mixing with the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. You feel the rough texture of Beatrice's fur as you swing your leg over her back, settling yourself into the saddle. The leather creaks as you shift your weight, and you can feel the warmth of Beatrice's body beneath you. Garett turns to you, the sun casting a warm glow on his face as he gestures towards the front of the convoy. "Now that you're settled!" he says, his voice echoing through the serene atmosphere. "It's time for you to take your position!" You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of fresh grass and earth, and turn to face him. The sun glints off his armor. "You can be at the front with me," he continues, his eyes scanning your face for a response. "And I can certainly use your tracking skills!" "Or, you can take the middle position," Garett continues, pointing towards the center of the convoy. You can see Lady Variel's horse trotting calmly next to the cart, and you catch a whiff of the hay and animals from the supplies. "And finally, you can take the rear," Garett finishes, where you can see Lucian engaged in conversation with a man with fiery red hair. They seem to be having a good time, as you can hear their laughter echoing throughout the forest. You think over your options. As you look at the front, a surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins. You envisioned the wind whipping past your face as you urged Beatrice into a gallop, the rhythmic thud of her hooves echoing in your ears. The anticipation of the open road filled your lungs with a heady mix of excitement and exhilaration. Plus you can use this as a chance to learn more about the Kingdom of Tiara and you can ask him about the Princess and Royal BodyGuard you wish to. Then you glance towards Variel's position in the middle of the convoy, a flicker of anxiety fluttered in your gut. You imagined her piercing red gaze fixed on you, her capricious personality will make your ride a very fun or death defying one. The thought of riding alongside her, with all her intensity and determination, sent goosebumps down on your skin. Maybe is her sadism that got you interested in her or is that you're a sucker for pain. Not to mention you can use this to know the dragon a little bit better. And yet, as you watch Lucian at the back of the group, a warm sense of companionship blossomed within you. The sound of laughter and chatter filled your ears, the tantalizing aroma of campfire smoke lingering in the air. You imagined the comfort of riding alongside a friend, sharing stories and basking in the camaraderie of the journey. Addionally, you haven't know much about your companion and maybe this bonding might remedy that. [[Ride at the front, I want to learn about the Kingdom Of Tiara and as well how my other OC's new personality like]] [[Ride at the middle, Variel is very interesting and I wanna learn more about her, I'm aware of the pain that might happen in this endeavor but maybe deep down I'm a masochist]] [[Ride at the back, even though Lucian is a fan of mine I haven't know a single thing about him and he knows a lot of my life, so I think is only fair if I even the situation]]

"What can I say? I like living on the edge," you purr, your most suave voice slipping from your lips. "Is that so?" Variel chuckles, her tone condescending. "The little mouse chasing after the thrill of danger." Undaunted, you raise your hand and swipe at some imaginary dust on your clothes. "Well, you did say that fear adds flavor to life, did you not?" you retort, a sly grin stretching across your face. "So, that's what you think of me! Danger!" "For you darling, I think of you as a challenge!" you say and winking at her. Variel rolls her eyes at your comment, clearly not impressed. "Oh, really?" she says, raising an eyebrow. "Well, I'm not one to shy away from a challenge." You can feel your heart racing as you lock eyes with her. There's something about her that draws you in, despite her cool demeanor. "I like a woman who knows what she wants," you say, your voice low and smooth. "And I have a feeling that you want a taste of danger too." Variel smirks, her lips curling up in a mischievous grin. "Maybe you do," she says. "But you'll have to work hard to keep up with me." Variel raised her hand and put it on her lips and did a flying kiss towards you. Without hesitation, you reached out your hand and pretended to catch the kiss, bringing it to your lips and making a loud smooching noise. Variel chuckled and leaned back in her saddle. "Jackpot, <<print $player_name>> got this bet in the bag!" you hear the man shout in front of you, as the others chuckled and made approving sounds. "Keep your pants on, boys! It's just a gesture," he says, his voice dripping with annoyance. A hearty chuckle escaped your lips as you watched the two men engage in a slap fight. A crowd quickly collected around them, with some jeering while others shook their heads in astonishment. The spectators started placing bets as to who would be sent flying first. The smacks grew progressively louder and more intense with each passing moment, until it seemed like the entire road was shaking from their blows. As the men continue to slap each other, you turn to Variel and catch her eye. She gives you a wry smile, and you can't help but feel a sense of camaraderie with her in the midst of the chaos. An animalistic rage was radiating from the two men in front of you and Variel. Her intense gaze stayed fixed on them, her eyes glinting in the dim light. Finally, she turned to you with a smirk. "It's like watching a couple of wild animals in a cage," she remarks and the corners of her lips curl upwards in amusement. You take stock of them, their features distorted by fury, before offering a quip. "That's Humans for you!" making a face at the harshness of their behavior. The men continue to argue and escalated to taking turn punching with each other, but Variel only has eyes for you now. You feel as if time is suspended as her captivating eyes lock onto yours. "I don't know about humans," she says in a voice low and seductive, sending shivers down your spine, "but you little mouse, are quite interesting." She leans closer to you in anticipation and all other sound swims away in comparison to the thundering beat of your heart. The world around you fades away and all you can focus on is the electric energy buzzing between the two of you. “I swear I’ve never encountered someone like you before,” she breathes against your skin, sending a wave of electricity through your veins. “You’re the only one who can keep me on my toes and fascinate me with your enigma." Your heart races as her words settle in; your mind swarms with things to say, yet you cannot think of any adequate response. It feels like you are standing at the edge of a cliff, ready to take a leap of faith. “You may be small, but never underestimate the courage within you," Variel says, her voice low and hypnotic. The intensity of her gaze draws you in and warms your skin. "I can tell there’s something special about you. Something I just have to find out." Hesitantly, you let out an awkward laugh and try to contain the butterflies inside your stomach. Taking a deep breath, you try to project strength and confidence that you do not feel. "Let's just hope that whatever is hidden beneath this facade of mine won't be too much for you to handle," you manage to respond, although your voice trembles slightly from apprehension. You inadvertently lock eyes with hers, and suddenly feel exposed beneath her scrutiny. But as if sensing your doubt, an enigmatic smile appears on her lips—one that sets flames ablaze inside of you. You try to smile confidently, but despite your best efforts you can feel the cracks in your façade starting to show. "I'll take that as a compliment," you manage to say, though your voice quavers slightly. "Good," she purrs, a predatory glint appearing in her gaze. "Because the question you should be asking yourself now is whether I truly meant every word," she continues, tapping her temple with her finger for emphasis. At her words, your smile disappeared from your face faster than smoke from an extinguished flame. Beatrice lets out a snort of amusement. You snap your head towards her, eyes narrowing in anger. "What now, you damn horse!" you curse under your breath, seething with frustration at her sassy attitude. Variel joins in on the guffaw, but you find yourself speechless at this newfound reality. "Ah now Beatrice, I'm surprised a steed as proud and wise as you could be so unkind," Variel adds, her tone laced with humour. "More cruel than me!" she howls, throwing her head back in merriment. Your inquisitiveness gets the better of you and you can't help but enquire, "What did she exactly say?" Your body stiffens as Variel says Beatrice's exact words. "She said that you're naive and beneath her, worthy of her pity," Variel replied, as an amused grin crept across her face. You feel your eyes widen in disbelief as a wave of profound anger courses through your veins. How dare a horse belittle you and look down upon you with such disdain! The insult pierces your heart more painfully than what it appears to be on the surface. Your face turns red with rage and your muscles tighten as Beatrice's insult rings in your ears. You're ready to retaliate with a sharp retort, but Garett's thunderous voice overpowers yours. "HALT!" You pull on the reins of Beatrice so hard that her hooves screech on the ground, stopping only inches away from the cart in front of you. Her body quivers with agitation; her ears lay flat against her head, a clear sign of her displeasure. "She said that you're too dim-witted and clumsy to even handle such a temperamental beast," Variel taunts, her lips upturned into an arrogant smirk. You clench your fists, feeling the anger bubbling up inside of you. Every fiber of your being wants to lash out at Beatrice, to show her who's boss. But you reign in your emotions, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. Garett's voice rings out, cutting through the tense atmosphere. "WE MAKE CAMP INSIDE OF THE FOREST!" he shouts, and you can feel the relief wash over you. Finally, a chance to get away from Beatrice and her constant taunts. As Garett's words sink in, the caravan springs into action. People dismount from their carts and horses, while those on foot gather tents and supplies from the back. You dismount from Beatrice, grateful for the opportunity to stretch your legs and get some new people to talk to. As you tilt your head towards the sky, you notice the vibrant hues of red, orange, and yellow merging together, creating a stunning masterpiece painted across the heavens. The sun, once a brilliant orb of light, now appears to be a molten ball of fire slowly sinking towards the horizon. You estimate that it might be around 6:00 P.M., based on your recollection of the sun's position in your previous life. The rays of the sun cascaded onto the ground, showering it in a blanket of golden hues. It seemed as if time had frozen; all around you, there existed nothing but pure tranquility and peace. You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply, allowing this serene moment to sink in. Suddenly, as if ripping through a dream, a strange voice pierced through the silence. "Ahhh nightime, a perfect time to kill someone!" Variel's voice said nonchalantly, sending shivers down your spine. Your eyes snapped open abruptly, searching for the source of this unsettling sound. To your horror, standing right next to you was Variel with her cold gaze focused unwaveringly on you. Your heart started pounding against your chest wildly with panic and fear coursing through every inch of your body. With trembling breath, you tried hard to keep your composure while uttering a feeble joke. "I got nothing to say to that!" A small chuckle escaped her lips before she spoke up again. "The mouse who was bold earlier is now speechless?" Her tone was mordant and menacing with an undercurrent of amusement trailing beneath it. Fear enveloped your soul as you felt yourself being pulled into her devilish game. Your stomach churned as you tried to force a smile. "Fine," you joked uneasily, but your voice quivered in anticipation of her answer. "Why are you planning on killing someone?" You swallow hard, knowing that the truth might be worse than what you had anticipated. Variel arched an eyebrow and laughed sinisterly. "Me?" she snickered. "How could you even think such a thing? I'm just warning everyone of the dangers of night time. It's when those pesky bandits and assassins like to come out and play," she said with a menacing glint in her eyes. You tried to stay composed and steady your breathing, not wanting to show any signs of fear in front of Variel. You chuckled nervously and replied, "Right...right...I guess it's best to take caution during these times." Variel smiled devilishly at you, her lips curling into a wicked smirk. Her voice took on a sardonic tone as she spoke: "Don't worry, little mouse," she mocked. "If you're so scared, why don't you stick close to me? I think I can protect you from any harm." You nervously posed the question: "You will protect me from harm?" You felt your heart racing and you instinctively touched your chest with a trembling hand. Variel rose and stretched her limbs, making her bones pop audibly. "Why yes, little mouse," she responded in a casual tone, almost too tranquil for the situation. "After all I only have right to destroy and kill you." Your response was slow, as if holding back terror. "Ok," you uttered cautiously, already backing away from Variel, unsure of where the conversation would lead. Just then, Variel abruptly straightened up before vanishing into thin air. In an instant, your back banged against a warm body behind you. She leaned in close to your ear and whispered three words: "Watch your back." When you spun around, there was nobody there - like Variel had never existed at all. "Oh one more thing," came her voice once again. You peered downward and saw a wolf sitting at your feet, staring directly at you with its crimson eyes. Its muzzle moved and a deep voice emanated from it. "Will you be a dear little mouse and put my dress on my back?" Your eyes widened in disbelief. "You're a wolf?" you gasped. "Yes." Variel replied with a nonchalant lick of her paw, as if it was perfectly normal to be standing in front of you as a beast. "And you can talk?" You asked, still reeling from the surprise. "Yes, and can you put my dress on my back? I still need to hunt while the night is still young." Variel stood majestically on all fours and walked closer to your side, waiting for the white dress to be carefully laid upon her fur. She was regal and graceful, like a true queen of the night. You bent low and reverently picked up the white dress. While putting it on her back, you could feel her warmth radiating through her fur; she was so alive. "You're going hunting?" You asked as you gently fastened it to her. "Little mouse," Variel said with a sly grin, her sharp teeth showing, "You have too many questions, and yet here I am, my stomach still empty." With that parting comment she gracefully took off into the darkness, leaving behind only a wisp of shining silver fur that sparkled in the moonlight. Suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder, and you turn to see Lucian standing behind you, his eyes bright with excitement. "Heya <<print $player_name>>, so are you ready for some weapon training?" he asks, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm. "Ahhhh fuck!" you shout and startled by Lucian's sudden appearance. "Sorry about that." Lucian chuckles. "So you ready for some weapon training?" he ask again this time slowly and in a low voice. The idea had slipped your mind. "Sure, lead the way!" you put your hand in your chest and calming your racing heart. Together, you and Lucian weave through the campsite, making your way towards Lee who standing around on the campfire. "Lee!" Lucian greets him as you approach. "Lucian, so ready for that training?" Lee asks, grinning from ear to ear. "Sure am, and I hope you don't mind <<print $player_name>> tagging along!" Lucian points to you, including you in the conversation. "Not at all!" Lee says in a jovial tone. "Oi Boss, can you train Lucian?" Lee shouts to Garett, who is busy with his duties. Garett waves his hand in acknowledgment. "Well, see yah later <<print $player_name>>!" Lucian says to you, excitement written all over his face. "See you later!" you say with a smile, eager to start the training. "Come with me <<print $player_name>>!" Lee's voice broke through the stillness of the night, beckoning you to follow him As you trailed behind, your heart beat faster with anticipation, wondering what he had in store for you. As you came upon a tree stump covered in a mysterious blanket, you could feel the excitement bubbling up inside of you. Lee unsheathed three weapons, each one exuding an aura of malevolence. Your gaze locked onto the deadly sword, its ebony hilt gleaming in the moonlight and its razor-sharp blade shimmering with menace. As you reached out to grasp it, the mesmerizing patterns engraved into the handle appeared to come alive, beckoning you to possess it. Lee demonstrated the blade's raw power, his swings cutting through the atmosphere with a thunderous roar. "This weapon is unparalleled, with extraordinary reach, speed, and balance. You could wield it with deftness and precision or eviscerate your foes with lethal force." Your gaze was drawn to the long spear, its polished wooden shaft glimmering in the silver light of the moon. As you advanced closer, an overwhelming force vibrated from its razor-sharp tip, sending a chill down your spine. Lee grabbed it with confidence and gracefully twirled it around like a part of his body. "This weapon is only suitable for the most experienced warriors, whose hands are steady and vision is keen. It can be used for brutal offensive purposes or defensive protection, thanks to its remarkable length and absolute accuracy." Your eyes widen in awe as you behold the scythe warhammer, its curved blade of tempered steel and weighty wooden handle looking like an instrument of damnation forged by the Devil himself. You can almost feel its ominous strength deep within your bones, a tool of pure destruction that strikes fear into its victims with every swipe, capable of shattering bone and tearing flesh from bone. Lee lifted the scythe warhammer with an almost savage glee, his fierce expression hinting at the devastation it could bring about. "This weapon brings death and destruction to those who oppose it," he declared with a sinister grin. "It can slice through even the strongest of armors, while its hammer can pulverize bones in a single blow." His arms bulged with power as he brought the weapon above his head and thrust it downwards with all the strength in his mighty body. The tree trunk stood no chance against its might, splintering in two under its relentless force, a deep gouge left behind in its wake. "Now it's your turn," Lee said, gesturing to the weapons with a sly grin. "Choose your weapon and unleash your fury upon our foes." You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you reached for the weapon of your choice, eager to wield it against any enemy who dared cross your path. ''//(Note: Picking Sword will increase your Wisdom and Guile. Picking Spear will increase your Agility and Finesse. Picking Scythe will increase your Strenght and Endurance.)//'' You appraise each weapon and your hand hovering between the 3. <<cycle "$weapon" autoselect>> <<option "sword">> <<option "spear">> <<option "scythe">> <</cycle>> [[Continue|Training Scene 3]]

The air around you hums with excitement as your gaze locks with Variel's. "You're...Interesting," you manage to say, feeling a rush of admiration and awe for the captivating figure in front of you. Her laughter fills the air, a sound that entices and entrances you like a siren's song. "I bet you say that to all your quarry little mouse," she teases, her head cocking to the side as if daring you to prove her wrong. As you speak, Variel's demeanour shifts subtly. Her eyes sparkle with amusement, and a mischievous smile curls at the corners of her lips. "And what exactly do you find interesting about me?" she asks, her voice laced with playfulness. You search for words to express what you're feeling but struggle to define it accurately. There's something magnetically captivating about Variel, yet beyond description. "Well, it's hard to put into words," you murmur, your voice hesitant and soft. "There's just something about you that draws me in." Variel lets out a low laugh as she studies you, head tilted inquisitively. "Is that so?" she says teasingly. "And here I thought I was just a terrifying and merciless dragon." The man grumbles skeptically. "I just find it infuriating that all <<print $player_name>> has to do is say five words!" At the mention of five words, Variel straightens up in anticipation. "And those words are?" she demands, her voice dripping with curiosity. Unaware of Variel lurking behind them, the man answers smugly. "Me and you dinner, tonight!" he states confidently. Suddenly, reality hits him and he turns pale with shock and embarrassment. "OH NO!" he screeches, dashing inside the cart for cover from humiliation. "Dinner little mouse?" Variel coos, her cold stare cutting into your soul. You can't move, pinned in fear by her crimson red eyes that seem to search deeper than the depths of your heart. "Umm...I..." you stammer and find the courage to look away. "HALT!" Garett bellows, and the sudden sound makes you jump, yanking the reins of Beatrice back just in time before you could be drawn into Variel's world. "WE MAKE CAMP IN-" you did not finish listening to Garett's announcements too focus on getting away from Variel and from the embaressment you're feeling. You pause beside a tree, gasping for breath, and when you finally turn around to look at your surroundings Variel is nowhere to be found. A wave of relief washes over you until you look up and see that the sun is setting, painting the sky a rich orange hue. "Ahhh, nightime- a perfect time to kill somebody" Variel whispers in your ear, almost brushing her lips against it. Turning slowly to your side you see her standing there, her eyes burning holes in your soul with an intensity so powerful it steals your breath away. "It does?" You croak, barely keeping the dragon at bay. "Why yes of course! Don't you know bandits and assassins favor the night to strike on their marks," Variel hisses menacingly, a cruel smirk curling on her lips. Her words leave you shaking inside as she grins sadistically in triumph. "Why yes of course! Don't you know bandits and assassins favor the night to strike on their marks." Variel grins at you and making your heart hammer loud deep in you. "That is a very troubling problem." you say and keeping the dragon deep in conversation. "Very mu-" you heard the stomach of Variel grumble. "Shit...Shit...Shit...I don't want to be dinner!" you started to panic. You hear the stomach of Variel grumble, and you know with a chill that you're in serious trouble. You try to flee, but her verbal magic holds you in place. "Now little mouse," she says coolly, "I need you to listen to me carefully because I'm very famished right now." You can feel the dread like a physical weight as her words sink in. Suddenly the worst imaginable ideas flash through your mind: I want you to strip naked so that your clothes won't clog my throat...I want you to fetch firewood so that I can start cooking you...I want you to kill yourself so that it will save me the trouble of staining my hands with your blood... But then, she says something completely unexpected: "I want you to tie my dress behind my back." Your heart slams against your rib cage and for a moment, you forget to breathe. You turn around to see a wolf sitting on the ground and staring at you with menacing crimson eyes. "Variel, is that you?" You take a wary step back, feeling your heart race in fear. "It's me little mouse," Variel replies in a low voice, "Now can you kindly tie my dress behind my back?". You feel a wave of superiority washing over you as you tower above her. You defiantly cross your arms and shake your head. "I don't wanna!" "Think your words carefully little mouse," Variel growls, her lips curled in a snarl. "Oh yeah? Bite me!" You say the words with a sneer of contempt. Instantly, you feel a sharp sting on your cheek as Variel slaps you hard enough to make your vision blur. You look down in shock to see the leaves spinning around Variel's paw like tiny hurricanes. "Oh c'mon, you can still use ma-", another slap cuts through your words. "Stop it! That hu-" Another slap silences your protests. "Fine!" You grumble in defeat, "I'll tie your dress!" You quickly and furiously grab the white dress, then you crouch low, your fingers trembling with rage as you tie it tightly behind Variel's back. Every atom of your body is screaming for you to use this cursed cloth to strangle her, but you manage to resist, knowing she can easily retaliate before you have the chance to finish the job. "See? It wasn't hard," Variel teases with a smug grin showcasing her sharp teeth. "Easy for you to say, with your magic!" You snap back petulantly. "Awww, the mouse is mad! How cute." She mocks before turning away from you. "Oh be careful little mouse," Variel purrs in a sickly sweet voice, "You never know when danger will strike." As she speaks, her tail flicks and you feel a sharp sting on your face, getting slapped again by the wind. Rage boils within you as she walks away. "You bitch!" You grit out through gritted teeth, knowing that if you spoke louder then she would be sure to lash out at you once more. Suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder, and you turn to see Lucian standing behind you, his eyes bright with excitement. "Heya <<print $player_name>>, so are you ready for some weapon training?" he asks, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm. "WHAT!" you shout angry. "Woah! Woke up in the bad side of the bed?" Lucian ask you. "You don't wanna know!" you raise a finger and silencing his future queries. "Okayyyyy?" he says. "Just wanna ask if you're ready for some weapon training?". The idea had slipped your mind. "Sure, lead the way!" you massage your forehead with both hands.. Together, you and Lucian weave through the campsite, making your way towards Lee who standing around on the campfire. "Lee!" Lucian greets him as you approach. "Lucian, so ready for that training?" Lee asks, grinning from ear to ear. "Sure am, and I hope you don't mind <<print $player_name>> tagging along!" Lucian points to you, including you in the conversation. "Not at all!" Lee says in a jovial tone. "Oi Boss, can you train Lucian?" Lee shouts to Garett, who is busy with his duties. Garett waves his hand in acknowledgment. "Well, see yah later <<print $player_name>>!" Lucian says to you, excitement written all over his face. "See you later!" you say with a smile, eager to start the training. "Come with me <<print $player_name>>!" Lee's voice broke through the stillness of the night, beckoning you to follow him As you trailed behind, your heart beat faster with anticipation, wondering what he had in store for you. As you came upon a tree stump covered in a mysterious blanket, you could feel the excitement bubbling up inside of you. Lee unsheathed three weapons, each one exuding an aura of malevolence. Your gaze locked onto the deadly sword, its ebony hilt gleaming in the moonlight and its razor-sharp blade shimmering with menace. As you reached out to grasp it, the mesmerizing patterns engraved into the handle appeared to come alive, beckoning you to possess it. Lee demonstrated the blade's raw power, his swings cutting through the atmosphere with a thunderous roar. "This weapon is unparalleled, with extraordinary reach, speed, and balance. You could wield it with deftness and precision or eviscerate your foes with lethal force." Your gaze was drawn to the long spear, its polished wooden shaft glimmering in the silver light of the moon. As you advanced closer, an overwhelming force vibrated from its razor-sharp tip, sending a chill down your spine. Lee grabbed it with confidence and gracefully twirled it around like a part of his body. "This weapon is only suitable for the most experienced warriors, whose hands are steady and vision is keen. It can be used for brutal offensive purposes or defensive protection, thanks to its remarkable length and absolute accuracy." Your eyes widen in awe as you behold the scythe warhammer, its curved blade of tempered steel and weighty wooden handle looking like an instrument of damnation forged by the Devil himself. You can almost feel its ominous strength deep within your bones, a tool of pure destruction that strikes fear into its victims with every swipe, capable of shattering bone and tearing flesh from bone. Lee lifted the scythe warhammer with an almost savage glee, his fierce expression hinting at the devastation it could bring about. "This weapon brings death and destruction to those who oppose it," he declared with a sinister grin. "It can slice through even the strongest of armors, while its hammer can pulverize bones in a single blow." His arms bulged with power as he brought the weapon above his head and thrust it downwards with all the strength in his mighty body. The tree trunk stood no chance against its might, splintering in two under its relentless force, a deep gouge left behind in its wake. "Now it's your turn," Lee said, gesturing to the weapons with a sly grin. "Choose your weapon and unleash your fury upon our foes." You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you reached for the weapon of your choice, eager to wield it against any enemy who dared cross your path. ''//(Note: Picking Sword will increase your Wisdom and Guile. Picking Spear will increase your Agility and Finesse. Picking Scythe will increase your Strenght and Endurance.)//'' You appraise each weapon and your hand hovering between the 3. <<cycle "$weapon" autoselect>> <<option "sword">> <<option "spear">> <<option "scythe">> <</cycle>> [[Continue|Training Scene 3]]

Your heart jumps as you blurt out, "You're...hot!" Vaariel's laugh slides in like honey, her head tilting with amusement. "I'm a dragon afterall little mouse," she purrs matter-of-factly. Her gaze lingers on yours, challenging and questioning. "But do explain, I'm not aware of your human meaning." She waves a regal hand in the air. "Oh come on!" A man squawks in front of you. "<<print $player_name>>'s doing their best now," another voice chimes in, chastising the first. "Of all the lines they could pick, they go with 'hot'?" he exclaimes. Vaariel prompts him with a single glance. "What would you say instead?" "Ah..." His eyes widen as understanding dawns on him. He grins sheepishly before babbling, "It's very cold Vaariel; mind if I get closer to you so that I can warm up? Things like that..." Before he finishes his sentence, his face reddens and he scurries away towards the inside of the cart, his companion's laughter echoing around the space. Vaariel's smirk only widens as her gaze settles back on you. "Is that what you meant by 'hot'?" You feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you try to recover from your awkward confession. "No, no, I meant...um...that you're attractive," you stumble over your words. Vaariel's eyes sparkle with amusement. "Now I'm attractive," she murmurs. "Is the little mouse confused? You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you look up at her, the heat of her body radiating towards you. Despite the cool refreshing air of the forest, the small space between the two of you feels warm and intimate. You find yourself drawn to Vaariel's beauty and power, captivated by the way she moves and speaks. As if sensing your thoughts, Variel raised her hand and brought it to her lips then give you a flying kiss. "You are brave to speak your mind so openly," she whispers, . "I like that in a little mouse. "TAKE IT...TAKE IT...TAKE IT...TAKE IT!" You felt the heat from their chant ripple across your skin as it grew louder and more fervent, almost begging for you to return the kiss. With a sudden surge of boldness, you snatch a handful of air and bring it to your lips before releasing an echoing smooch that causes the men to erupt with more joy than ever before. Suddenly, Garett's deep command booms out and you nervously pulls back hard upon Beatrice's reins, halting your movements abruptly. "HALT!" Garett orders, his words cutting through the cheers like a dagger. "Beatrice says that she already regrets saving you!" Variel laughs mockingly at this statement, while the horse stamped her hooves in agitation. "WE MAKE CAMP HERE IN THE FOREST!" Garett bellowed, commanding everyone to dismount and begin setting up tents and gathering supplies. You complied obediently, watching as the sun descended behind the horizon. The sky was painted in sweeping oranges and pinks, almost further enraging you with its beauty as your blood boiled with anticipation. Suddenly, as if ripping through a dream, a strange voice pierced through the silence. "Ahhh nightime, a perfect time to kill someone!" Variel's voice said nonchalantly, sending shivers down your spine. Your eyes open wide with terror as an eerie sound pierces the silence. Variel stands right beside you, her cold gaze riveted on you with unyielding intensity. Desperately trying to remain composed, you let out a nervous laugh. "I don't get the joke," you say. "Oh but little mouse this is no joke," Variel says matter-of-factly. The setting sun casts a crimson hue over her already striking red eyes, making her look like an otherworldly demon from the depths of Hades. With a quiver in your voice, you ask, "It's not?" "No," she responds gravely before letting out a sinister chuckle. "Murder isn't something to be laughed about... Nighttime is the favorite hour for assassins and bandits to attack." You take a deep breath of relief only for it to suddenly stop as her stomach grumbles. "Crap!" you think to yourself as your heart leaps into your throat. "Well, looks like I need to go hunting," Variel states casually while stretching her body and cracking her bones. As she twists her neck around, she adds, "Oh one more thing little mouse, can you be a dear and put my dress on my back." Before you can even begin to process what she meant, she disappears in front of you. "Behind you little mouse," comes her disembodied voice from behind your back. You spin around yet there's still no trace of Variel anywhere until you hear her demand again: "Look down." You lower your gaze and see a large wolf staring at you with its red crimson eyes. Your heart pounds against your chest as fear takes hold. "Please don't eat me!" you plead. "Haha, Oh little mouse, I will not eat you." Variel chuckles. "You will not eat me?" you ask unsure. "I will not little mouse."Variel grins at you, her razor shapr canines showing. "Not yet at least." she continues and snaps her mouth at you. You insticly take a step back away from her. "Now little mouse can you put this dress behind my back." Variel walks closer and carrying the white dress she wears earlier in her mouth. With her mouth still open, she drops the white dress into your hands. You quickly tie it around her back, hesitating as you come close to her maw. "So you're a wolf?" you ask tentatively, trying to make conversation. "Yes I'm a wolf," Variel growls and licks her paw for emphasis. Before you can take another breath she is suddenly right in front of you, looming like an ancient beast ready to strike. "Can I pet you?" you blurt out, almost certain that such a request would bring death upon yourself. She looks down at you with a deadly glare and growls lowly, "Why?" You stammer out an explanation about how this is the first time you've seen someone shift from dragon to human to wolf and back again. After what feels like an eternity she finally answers with a smirk on her face, "Very well but make it quick, the longer I wait the more my hunger grows." You nervously reach out to Variel and timidly start petting her. She stays in place and allows your touch, so encouraged you press your luck further by scratching the sensitive area just behind her ears. She responds with a low rumble of pleasure as her tail begins to thump against the ground. "Who's a good girl!" you say in an overly sweet voice. "Watch your tongue little mouse." Variel snarls as she bares her sharp teeth. "Meh, worth a shot." you mumble, trying to back away while keeping your eyes fixed on yours companion. "Watch your back little mouse." Variel hisses before sprinting into the inky darkness, leaving you alone in the shadows. Suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder, and you turn to see Lucian standing behind you, his eyes bright with excitement. "Heya <<print $player_name>>, so are you ready for some weapon training?" he asks, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm. "Ahhhh fuck!" you shout and startled by Lucian's sudden appearance. "Sorry about that." Lucian chuckles. "So you ready for some weapon training?" he ask again this time slowly and in a low voice. The idea had slipped your mind. "Sure, lead the way!" you put your hand in your chest and calming your racing heart. Together, you and Lucian weave through the campsite, making your way towards Lee who standing around on the campfire. "Lee!" Lucian greets him as you approach. "Lucian, so ready for that training?" Lee asks, grinning from ear to ear. "Sure am, and I hope you don't mind <<print $player_name>> tagging along!" Lucian points to you, including you in the conversation. "Not at all!" Lee says in a jovial tone. "Oi Boss, can you train Lucian?" Lee shouts to Garett, who is busy with his duties. Garett waves his hand in acknowledgment. "Well, see yah later <<print $player_name>>!" Lucian says to you, excitement written all over his face. "See you later!" you say with a smile, eager to start the training. "Come with me <<print $player_name>>!" Lee's voice broke through the stillness of the night, beckoning you to follow him As you trailed behind, your heart beat faster with anticipation, wondering what he had in store for you. As you came upon a tree stump covered in a mysterious blanket, you could feel the excitement bubbling up inside of you. Lee unsheathed three weapons, each one exuding an aura of malevolence. Your gaze locked onto the deadly sword, its ebony hilt gleaming in the moonlight and its razor-sharp blade shimmering with menace. As you reached out to grasp it, the mesmerizing patterns engraved into the handle appeared to come alive, beckoning you to possess it. Lee demonstrated the blade's raw power, his swings cutting through the atmosphere with a thunderous roar. "This weapon is unparalleled, with extraordinary reach, speed, and balance. You could wield it with deftness and precision or eviscerate your foes with lethal force." Your gaze was drawn to the long spear, its polished wooden shaft glimmering in the silver light of the moon. As you advanced closer, an overwhelming force vibrated from its razor-sharp tip, sending a chill down your spine. Lee grabbed it with confidence and gracefully twirled it around like a part of his body. "This weapon is only suitable for the most experienced warriors, whose hands are steady and vision is keen. It can be used for brutal offensive purposes or defensive protection, thanks to its remarkable length and absolute accuracy." Your eyes widen in awe as you behold the scythe warhammer, its curved blade of tempered steel and weighty wooden handle looking like an instrument of damnation forged by the Devil himself. You can almost feel its ominous strength deep within your bones, a tool of pure destruction that strikes fear into its victims with every swipe, capable of shattering bone and tearing flesh from bone. Lee lifted the scythe warhammer with an almost savage glee, his fierce expression hinting at the devastation it could bring about. "This weapon brings death and destruction to those who oppose it," he declared with a sinister grin. "It can slice through even the strongest of armors, while its hammer can pulverize bones in a single blow." His arms bulged with power as he brought the weapon above his head and thrust it downwards with all the strength in his mighty body. The tree trunk stood no chance against its might, splintering in two under its relentless force, a deep gouge left behind in its wake. "Now it's your turn," Lee said, gesturing to the weapons with a sly grin. "Choose your weapon and unleash your fury upon our foes." You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you reached for the weapon of your choice, eager to wield it against any enemy who dared cross your path. ''//(Note: Picking Sword will increase your Wisdom and Guile. Picking Spear will increase your Agility and Finesse. Picking Scythe will increase your Strenght and Endurance.)//'' You appraise each weapon and your hand hovering between the 3. <<cycle "$weapon" autoselect>> <<option "sword">> <<option "spear">> <<option "scythe">> <</cycle>> [[Continue|Training Scene 3]]

You sit tall and proud in the saddle, throwing your chest out. "'Bold of you to assume that I'm chasing you'," you say defiantly at her. "So being here by my side and talking to me is not chasing?" Variel asks mockingly, raising an eyebrow. "Why does it irritate you?" you challenge her, staring directly into her eyes. "What?!" Varil exclaims, her tone taking a darker hue. "Does it annoy you that I chose to be here, that this was my own volition to ride here!" you repeat, demanding an answer. Suddenly two male voices speak up in front of you, "Shit! Does <<print $player_name>> have a death wish? Do something!" one voice says urgently, followed by the other replying,"And getting between that shitstorm? Hell no!". Without warning, Variel raised her hand and you saw a powerful gale of wind encircling her fingers. You felt pressure on your neck increasing with every passing second as if a heavy weight were squeezing it, slowly preventing air from entering your lungs. You raised your hand to pry off the force but could do nothing-the pressure only increased until your vision started to blur and fade in and out. "Air Magic!" you realised "Hmm?" Variel turns her head towards your horse. "Really Beatrice, you don't say?" She muses as your consciousness begins to fade in and out. The pressure on your neck tightens, pushing the air out of your lungs until you feel like you are dying, like every cell in your body is screaming for air. Variel waves her hand and you gasp greedily as the pressure lifts and you can breathe again. "Fine! I won't kill them, but I will hurt them." Variel's voice is a raging storm, clashing against Beatrice's neigh of reply. You look at them both in shock, barely able to process what happened. "What happened?" you manage to choke out. "Nothing much really," Variel replies with a sinister chuckle, "just that Beatrice saved your life." She laughs darkly and nods in the direction of your steed. "Shocking, I know, but her reason is that you rub her the right way!" Variel explains, still laughing. "My new life is getting better," you think to yourself, "I got saved by a horse!" "Oh I think they learned their lesson Beatrice, for their sake!" Variel eyes you with murder in her eyes. "And what if I still don't?" you challenge her, defiance stirring withen you. "If you still don't learn your lesson," she says in a low voice, "I'll make sure you regret it." You meet her gaze with a defiant look of your own. "I'm not afraid of you," you say, your voice steady despite the pressure on your neck. You lock eyes with Variel, refusing to back down despite the pressure on your neck. The wind around you begins to gust stronger, a sign that she may be losing control. You brace yourself for another attack, but instead, Variel breaks into a cold and mirthless laugh. Variel's hand raised in the air and the wind started to pick intensity once more, and for a moment you think she's going to choke you again. But then she laughs, a cold and mirthless sound. "Oh, I know you're not afraid of me," she says. "And I hope you continue to be little mouse, because you will rob the joy out of this!" she says and with a sudden swiping motion, Variel slaps you across the cheek, causing your head to jerk to the side. You feel the sting of the blow and the heat of anger rise within you. "You won't break me," you say, your voice steady despite the pain. "I'll fight you every step of the way." Variel smirks widely. "Oh, I hope you do," she whispers. "Because watching you struggle and suffer is going to be so much fun." "HALT!" Garett's voice roars like thunder through the forest, making Beatrice tremble with fear. "SET UP CAMP RIGHT HERE!" His orders echo through the trees as the convoy bustles into action, frenziedly unloading tents and supplies from the carts. You hastily dismount Beatrice and escape her hateful grip, seeking refuge away from Variel's clutches, to be free of her relentless physical and mental torment. With every step you take farther away from her, your heart beats faster in anticipation of finally being freed. As you tilt your head towards the sky, you notice the vibrant hues of red, orange, and yellow merging together, creating a stunning masterpiece painted across the heavens. The sun, once a brilliant orb of light, now appears to be a molten ball of fire slowly sinking towards the horizon. You estimate that it might be around 6:00 P.M., based on your recollection of the sun's position in your previous life. The rays of the sun cascaded onto the ground, showering it in a blanket of golden hues. It seemed as if time had frozen; all around you, there existed nothing but pure tranquility and peace. You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply, allowing this serene moment to sink in, a small respite from your encounter with Variel. Suddenly, as if ripping through a dream, a strange voice pierced through the silence. "Ahhh nightime, a perfect time to kill someone!" Variel's voice said nonchalantly, making your blood boil. “LEAVE ME ALONE!” you bellow in anguish, hot tears streaming down your face. "Oh but little mouse," Variel cackles gleefully, "I don't think that's gonna happen!" You lunge towards her, fists clenched tightly, ready to fight with every fiber of your being. Yet before a single punch is thrown, you feel yourself being frozen in place – as if an invisible hand has taken hold. "Remember, I am the one in control here." Variel's voice shatters the silence, a cruel smile painting her lips. Suddenly, energy crackles from her fingertips and overwhelms you with its intensity. Before you can scream for help, your mouth snaps shut and refuses to open. "As I was saying!" Variel says and you watch as her hand begins to glow in a deep violet hue. "Night time is the favorite hour for assassins and bandits to attack." she says casually. The words burst out of your mouth like a raging tempest, "THE ONLY THING THAT IS ATTACKING ME HERE IS YOU!" Fury burning in your gut, you continue to shout and curse but the only sound that escapes your lips is a violent garble. "MHPHPMPHMHPHMHHMPHMPMHPHPMH" you exclaim with venom dripping from each syllable. Variel's stomach rumbles like thunder, yet her words fill the air like a hurricane. "Oh dear, now I'm famished!" Variel bellows as her crimsonred eyes burn with an intensity that can be felt by everyone near her. "Turn around little mouse." Variel commands, and your body is like putty in her hands. "Now turn around again." You obey without hesitation, but Variel has vanished from sight. "Look down." You hesitate, but then you see an enormous wolf whose paw is raised and glowing with a purple hue and staring right at you with those pulsating crimson eyes. "MPHMPHAMPH?" You stammer in terror. "Yes, little mouse it's me." Variel snaps her wolf jaws menacingly as she speaks. Variel grins wickedly as she watches you obey her commands, crawling towards her on all fours. She extends an arm towards you and a ghostly blue light radiates from her paw, paralyzing your body. You stoop low, every inch of your being screaming in protest, yet you cannot resist as your hands reach for the white dress and tie it behind her back. "Since you have been a good little mouse," Variel hisses with satisfaction, "when I leave you will regain control of your body back." She starts to turn away but then halts in mid-step, adding maliciously, "Also, slap yourself." Your hand lifts up against your will and delivers a stinging blow across your face. You clench your fists in fury as you feel the spell break and regain command of your body. With one final scream of rage, you shout out: "YOU BITCHHHHHHH!" Suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder, and you turn to see Lucian standing behind you, his eyes bright with excitement. "Heya <<print $player_name>>, so are you ready for some weapon training?" he asks, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm. "WHAT!" you shout angry. "Woah! Woke up in the bad side of the bed?" Lucian ask you. "You don't wanna know!" you raise a finger and silencing his future queries. "Okayyyyy?" he says. "Just wanna ask if you're ready for some weapon training?". The idea had slipped your mind. "Sure, lead the way!" you massage your forehead with both hands.. Together, you and Lucian weave through the campsite, making your way towards Lee who standing around on the campfire. "Lee!" Lucian greets him as you approach. "Lucian, so ready for that training?" Lee asks, grinning from ear to ear. "Sure am, and I hope you don't mind <<print $player_name>> tagging along!" Lucian points to you, including you in the conversation. "Not at all!" Lee says in a jovial tone. "Oi Boss, can you train Lucian?" Lee shouts to Garett, who is busy with his duties. Garett waves his hand in acknowledgment. "Well, see yah later <<print $player_name>>!" Lucian says to you, excitement written all over his face. "See you later!" you say with a smile, eager to start the training. "Come with me <<print $player_name>>!" Lee's voice broke through the stillness of the night, beckoning you to follow him As you trailed behind, your heart beat faster with anticipation, wondering what he had in store for you. As you came upon a tree stump covered in a mysterious blanket, you could feel the excitement bubbling up inside of you. Lee unsheathed three weapons, each one exuding an aura of malevolence. Your gaze locked onto the deadly sword, its ebony hilt gleaming in the moonlight and its razor-sharp blade shimmering with menace. As you reached out to grasp it, the mesmerizing patterns engraved into the handle appeared to come alive, beckoning you to possess it. Lee demonstrated the blade's raw power, his swings cutting through the atmosphere with a thunderous roar. "This weapon is unparalleled, with extraordinary reach, speed, and balance. You could wield it with deftness and precision or eviscerate your foes with lethal force." Your gaze was drawn to the long spear, its polished wooden shaft glimmering in the silver light of the moon. As you advanced closer, an overwhelming force vibrated from its razor-sharp tip, sending a chill down your spine. Lee grabbed it with confidence and gracefully twirled it around like a part of his body. "This weapon is only suitable for the most experienced warriors, whose hands are steady and vision is keen. It can be used for brutal offensive purposes or defensive protection, thanks to its remarkable length and absolute accuracy." Your eyes widen in awe as you behold the scythe warhammer, its curved blade of tempered steel and weighty wooden handle looking like an instrument of damnation forged by the Devil himself. You can almost feel its ominous strength deep within your bones, a tool of pure destruction that strikes fear into its victims with every swipe, capable of shattering bone and tearing flesh from bone. Lee lifted the scythe warhammer with an almost savage glee, his fierce expression hinting at the devastation it could bring about. "This weapon brings death and destruction to those who oppose it," he declared with a sinister grin. "It can slice through even the strongest of armors, while its hammer can pulverize bones in a single blow." His arms bulged with power as he brought the weapon above his head and thrust it downwards with all the strength in his mighty body. The tree trunk stood no chance against its might, splintering in two under its relentless force, a deep gouge left behind in its wake. "Now it's your turn," Lee said, gesturing to the weapons with a sly grin. "Choose your weapon and unleash your fury upon our foes." You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you reached for the weapon of your choice, eager to wield it against any enemy who dared cross your path. ''//(Note: Picking Sword will increase your Wisdom and Guile. Picking Spear will increase your Agility and Finesse. Picking Scythe will increase your Strenght and Endurance.)//'' You appraise each weapon and your hand hovering between the 3. <<cycle "$weapon" autoselect>> <<option "sword">> <<option "spear">> <<option "scythe">> <</cycle>> [[Continue|Training Scene 3]]

"I'll take the rear," you announce to Garett with a nod. "Good luck," Garett says with a chipper tone. You give him a puzzled look. "Thanks?" you say uncertainly, turning your horse around. "Give my regards to Sir Lucian!" Garett calls out after you. "Sure thing!" you shout back, picking up the pace and heading towards the back of the group. As you ride towards the back of the group, you take in the sights and sounds around you. The bustling of carts and the clatter of hooves mix together in a symphony of noise. You can see people going about their business, some huddled together in conversation, others loading or unloading supplies from their carts. Horses graze lazily on the grass, flicking their tails to shoo away the occasional fly. You take a deep breath of the fresh country air. ''//(Lucian's POV)//'' Ray's red hair glints in the sunlight, and his face is dusted with a scattering of freckles. As he speaks, his friendly smile lights up his features and his carefree demeanor is infectious. "So Lucian, is the tracker your partner?" he asks with genuine curiosity in his tone. You smiled at Ray and corrected him in a gentle tone. "More like a friend," you said. Ray chuckled and replied, "Yes, a partner!" You shook your head and said, "I think 'partner' implies a much closer relationship, so I think 'friend' is a better term." Ray nodded, "I see your point. But I must say, you two make a great team." You grinned, feeling a sense of pride for your friendship with <<print $player_name>> . "Thanks, we try our best." Ray leans in closer to you, a roguish glint in his eyes. "So when are you gonna take it to the next level?" he inquires. You furrow your brows in confusion. "Excuse me?" Ray shakes his head, his red hair swaying. "Let me iterate," he says, his tone dropping to a more blunt and direct one. "When are you gonna get ?mcthem to bed?" "WHAT?" you say, surprised by Ray's question. Ray chuckles. "Come on, Lucian. It's obvious to everyone that you have a crush on ?mcthem," he says. Your face flushes with embarrassment. "I do not have a crush on ?mcthem!" you protest, crossing your arms defensively. Ray raises an eyebrow skeptically. "Sure you don't," he says, before a voice from somewhere in the caravan shouts, "Yes, you do!" "Are you included in the conversation!" you shout irrated. "Yes, I am!" the voice shouts back and you heard a chorus of laughter and hi-fives. "Look, Lucian I can give you reason now why you're so very obvious with your feelings with <<print $player_name>>!" your cheeks flush with heat at the mention of <<print $player_name>> and as Ray continues to make his case. "I like to see you try!" you say, trying to maintain your composure. "Challenge accepted!" Ray grins, undeterred. "First, you're blushing right now!" "I am not!" you protest, but your hands fly to your cheeks to cover them. "Second," Ray continues, "you get defensive and try to change the topic if <<print $player_name>>, is being talked about." "No, I don't!" you retort defensively, but the way your eyes dart away betrays your unease. "Thirdly, here ?mcthey come right now!" he points behind you. You spin around, your eyes darting back and forth, trying to spot <<print $player_name>>'s presence. Your heart races, and you feel a twinge of excitement and nervousness. But <<print $player_name>> is nowhere to be found and you realize he's just tricking you. "Haha!" Ray taunts. "See! You have feelings for ?mcthem, admit it!" Your face heats up as you turn to glare at him. "I do not have feelings for ?mcthem!" you protest. The voice booms from the caravan again, "Yes, you do, and the more you deny it, the more it's gonna hurt!" A chorus of laughter follows. "Don't be shy Lucian, we all have experience puppy love before!" Ray teases you. "I've had enough of this nonsense," you retorted, frustration building up inside you. "How many times do I have to tell you that I don't have feelings for ?mcthem? And if you want, I can say it to ?mctheir face to prove my point!" your words came out sharp, and you crossed your arms in front of you. Ray snickers, his eyes darting towards someone behind you. "Well speak of the devil here ?mcthey come now!" he exclaims. You quickly shake your head, determined not to fall for any of Ray's teasing. "Nope, not gonna-" But before you can finish your sentence, a familiar voice interrupts you. "Hey Lucian!" <<print $player_name>>'s voice rings out, causing your brain to instantly shut down as you turn around to face ?mcthem. You feel <<print $player_name>>'s gaze on you as you stand there, petrified and unable to form a coherent thought. Ray's stifled laughter only adds to the pressure. You take a deep breath and try to focus. "Think, come on think!" you silently urge yourself. Suddenly, an idea pops into your head. "Hey there," you say, putting on your best suave voice, "Are you a magician? Because every time I look at you, everyone else disappears." You turn to face <<print $player_name>>, hoping your attempt at a smooth introduction didn't come off as too cheesy. ?mcTheir eyes widen slightly, and you can feel your heart race with anticipation for their response. "Smooth!" <<print $player_name>> says and chuckling. Your heart races with excitement as you hear <<print $player_name>>'s laughter and compliment. You feel a rush of confidence and happiness flood through you. Your mind races with thoughts and emotions, and you can't help but feel like you're walking on cloud nine. The feeling is so overwhelming that you fear you might faint at any moment. Ray's breath tickles your ear as he whispers his taunting words, "What happened to your original plan, lover boy!" you can feel your face burning with embarrassment and frustration. Your mind races as you try to come up with a quick comeback, but your thoughts are jumbled and your tongue feels tied. You turn to face Ray with a scowl, but he just smirks and shrugs as if he's won this round. Ray walked towards <<print $player_name>> with a grin. "So <<print $player_name>>, what brings you here on the back line?" he asked. "Sorry, but I don't know your name," <<print $player_name>> replied politely. Ray greets MC with a polite smile. "Ahh, I apologize for my manners, My name is Ray nice to meet your acquaintance!" he introduces himself smoothly. "Nice to meet you Ray and as for your question, the reason I'm here is that I can talk to my partner here!" <<print $player_name>> responds. As you stand facing away from <<print $player_name>> and Ray, a sudden rush of emotions flood through you when you hear <<print $player_name>> refer to you as ?mctheir partner. Your heart skips a beat and a huge smile spreads across your face. "You hear that Lucian, <<print $player_name>> wants to talk to you!" as soon as Ray's teasing words reached your ears, you turned around to face them. However, you quickly schooled your expression into something neutral. You try to act casual, but your heart is pounding, and sweat is starting to bead on your forehead. "So what do you want to talk about, <<print $player_name>>?" you ask, trying to hide your nervousness. "Feeling hot, Lucian?" Ray says, pointing at you with a smug grin. You grit your teeth, trying to come up with an excuse. "It's just the sun," you manage to say, hoping they don't notice the quiver in your voice. <<print $player_name>> trots ?mctheir horse towards you and says, "Well, I want to know you better Lucian, if it's alright with you!" You repeat ?mctheir words in surprise, not expecting this sudden interest in your life. "You want to know more about me?" "Well, yeah!" <<print $player_name>> explains. "You knew stuff about me, and I was hoping to do the same with you!" "It's a date!" Ray cuts in laughing. The sound of jeers and catcalls erupts from the nearby cart, causing you to wince at the sudden noise. "You hear that boys, we got a date over here!" a voice shouts from the crowd, making you feel more self-conscious. You quickly shake your head and wave your hands in front of you. "Wait, hold on a second, it's not a date!" you protest, trying to set the record straight. ''//(MC's POV)//'' The sound of the crowd's jeering fills your ears, and you see Lucian's face turn bright red with embarrassment. Suddenly, the chant of "Lucian and <<print $player_name>>, sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" echoes through the air, causing Lucian to clench his fists in frustration. "Stop it!" he exclaims, desperation in his voice. You can't help but smile on this, whatever you wanna call what this is. The chorus of people singing "Lucian and <<print $player_name>>, sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" surrounds you, but you chuckle to yourself, relishing in the opportunity to mess with Lucian. You know people might get the wrong impression, but you don't care and besides you still have the last say if you want to chase Lucian in the future. "Lucian and-" the group continues to sing. "<<print $player_name>> sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" you join in, singing along with the group. You see Lucian's shocked expression, his face turning beet red with embarrassment. "You too?" he says, his voice filled with a sense of betrayal. Ray slaps Lucian's back reassuringly. "Don't take it too seriously, Lucian. It's just a harmless joke," he says between chuckles. He turns to the rest of the group. "Am I right, fellas?" he asks, and they all nod in agreement. The sound of their laughter echoes around you "Yeah, lighten up, Lucian,"a man with caramel hair says. Ray's attention then turns to you. "Alright, <<print $player_name>>, why don't you position yourself behind this cart?" he gestures towards a spot, and you nod in agreement. You take the reins of Beatrice and guide her towards the designated area, settling in. Lucian stood silently, his eyes fixed on the entrance to the cart. Ray noticed and blocked his path. "Where do you think you're going?" Ray asked with a smirk. "Inside," Lucian said quietly. "Sorry, no can do, buddy. We're full," Ray replied, crossing his arms. "What? There's still space inside!" Lucian pointed behind Ray, and you could see that there was indeed some room left. "Hey, boys! Is it still spacious in there?" Ray called out. "Nope!" a man yelled, sprawling out on the floor and taking up what little space was left. "What do you mean, 'nope'? You're laying down there!" Lucian retorted. "Hey, did you just call my friend fat?" another man spoke up, stepping forward defensively. "No, I did not and all I'm just saying your friend is taking the space on purpose!" Lucian argues. "Alright friend! You're getting far!" the man says. "Woah! Carl easy now, Lucian didn't mean to offend!" Ray says and holding Carl in place but you can see his trying to resist the urge to smile. "You can ride with me, Lucian," you offer, extending a hand towards him. You chuckle at the sight of Carl and Ray smiling mischievously, clearly enjoying teasing Lucian. "Well what do you know?" Ray wiggles his eyebrows at Lucian. "<<print $player_name>> offers their help. What say ye, Lucian?" "Fine!" he says defeatedly. Lucian resignedly approaches the side of your horse and reaches out for your hand. With your assistance, he clambers up onto Beatrice, his legs swinging over the horse's side. Behind your back, he mutters, "I swear you guys are bullying me!" Ray responds in a fake tone of surprise, "Us?! Oh Carl, how can he accuse us of such a thing?" He then proceeds to bury his face in Carl's shoulder and fake cry. Carl joins in the act, patting Ray on the back and saying, "There, there, Ray!" Eventually, Ray announces, "But we forgive you, Lucian!" in a cheerful tone, standing up straight. The voice of Garett booms from the front, shouting "FORWARD MARCH!" and urging the group to move on. Ray quips, "Well, happy travels, you love birds!" before climbing into the cart and with Carl follewing from behind. [[Continue|Questions]]

The cart in front of you lurches forward, jostling its passengers, as the sound of hooves and boots hitting the ground reverberates in your ears. The wind picks up, a refreshing gust that washes over your skin, providing some respite from the unrelenting heat of the sun. As you gently kick Beatrice's side, urging her to move forward, you feel Lucian's presence behind you. Though he doesn't speak, his silence speaks volumes, and you sense that he is not holding onto you for support, despite the jostling of the horse's gait. You turn your head slightly towards Lucian and ask, "You okay back there?" Lucian responds with a deadpan tone, "I'm fine." You turn your head towards Lucian. "Clearly, you're not okay," you say, your voice soft and friendly. Lucian chuckles, but his laughter seems forced. "And how can you say that?" he asks. As you guide Beatrice back into line, you reply, "Well, you're awfully quiet, which is the complete opposite of your usually upbeat nature when we first met." "Maybe I'm just taking a break from being happy," Lucian grumbles. With a chuckle, you add, "And you're starting to act like Variel!" Lucian laughs along with you."Then something must be really wrong, if you're comparing me to Variel," he replies, his voice tinged with a mixture of amusement and melancholy. You feel a sense of relief wash over you as Lucian's mood lightens, and you're glad to see him returning to his old self. As you watch the birds flying overhead, you hear Lucian calling out your name in a low whisper. "<<print $player_name>>?" he says, catching your attention. You turn to him and respond with a soft "Hmmm?" "Is it true that you really want to know more about me?" There is a hint of vulnerability in his voice, as if he's unsure whether to open up to you or not. You respond to Lucian's question with a simple statement, "Well, that's why I'm here, isn't it?" Lucian chuckles nervously, his apprehension apparent in his voice. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry for asking such a stupid question," he says, sounding apologetic. "It's alright," you reassure him, your tone gentle and understanding. "And if you don't feel like talking, that's perfectly fine too," you add, making it clear that you won't push him to open up if he's not ready. But Lucian seems to change his mind and says, "No, it's alright. Go ahead and ask me whatever questions you have." <<linkreplace "Why did you pick me?">> You take a moment to gather your thoughts before asking Lucian the question that has been on your mind. "Can I ask you something personal?" you say, turning towards him. "Sure, go ahead," Lucian replies, his eyes fixed on the passing scenery. "Why did you choose me?" you ask him, your voice curious. "What do you mean?" Lucian says, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Well, there are so many great authors out there, but you picked me as your favorite. I'm just curious why," you explain, Lucian chuckles nervously, his voice taking a high pitch tone. "Listing all the reasons why I adore you would take the whole day," he says, but then he coughs and trails off. You chuckle at his reaction, sensing his embarrassment. "Don't worry, I've got all the time in the world," you say, trying to reassure him. As you continue to ride, you notice Ray grinning at you and giving you a thumbs up. You shake your head, amused by his antics. Then he let the flaps fall on the entrance of the cart. "So will you answer?" you ask him and returning your attention back to Lucian. "I'll try!" "First, you're different from other Authors! he says. "You bring life to your characters and they are just not a name on your book!" he says with awe. "The other Authors I know also do that and honestly they're even good at describing them and portraying them in their story!" you say to him. "That's true but yours is different, take example of Variel!" he stops for a moment and you can feel his body shifting behind you. "Ok she's not here!" he says relieved. "Don't worry she's in the middle part of the caravan?" you laugh. "Thank goodness!!" he says. "Anyways, Variel for example you made her super cruel and terrifying and she devoured a baby in one of your stories!" he whispers "Wait she devoured a baby?" you say in a low voice, your eyes widening in shock. Lucian nods slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, in one of your stories. But the thing is, even though she's terrifying, your readers still love her. That's the power of your writing." You pause for a moment, taking in his words. "I never thought of it that way. I thought I just write these characters and then poof, they will do their magic," you admit. Lucian nods understandingly. "I know, but that's just one example of how you create characters that stick with people, even if they do terrible things," he says. As Lucian finishes his words, you feel your heart swell with emotion. A smile spreads across your face and you can't help but let out a small chuckle, your voice cracking slightly. You're grateful for his kind words, even though you've heard similar compliments from others before. But every time you hear them, it still brings you a sense of joy and happiness that feels fresh and new. "Thank you!" "Of course!" Lucian replies with a cheerful tone, "So what is your next question?" <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Why did you agree to accompany me?">> Lucian's voice takes on a hurtful tone as he asks, "Why? You don't like me to come with you?" You quickly try to reassure him, "What! No! You can stay back with your sister if you want, but you agreed to come with me! I just want to know your reason for coming." Lucian's expression softens as he realizes his mistake. "Ohhh!" he says, relieved. " About that, I felt kinda responsible for you," he admits in a bashful tone. "Why is that?" you ask, a small chuckle escaping your lips at his honesty. Lucian's expression turns crestfallen as he admits, "Because I'm the one who introduced your IF to the other Gods!" Curious, you inquire further. "Why did you want them to read my stories?" "At first, I was trying to get them to give reading IFs a try and show them how humans are so creative with their imagination," Lucian explains. "But they didn't listen to me." He lets out a heavy sigh and his voice takes on a bitter tone. "Lucian, don't be petty. You're a God and you should act like one. Lucian, you have duties to fulfill and I suggest you focus on that rather than wasting your time reading this...this trash!" Lucian mimics, his tone mocking one of the other Gods. "Except for Atris!" Lucian says happily. "Atris?" you say, your curiosity piqued. As you speak, you notice movement out of the corner of your eye. Turning your head, you see the bushes to your side rustling and a small, furry creature hops away on the side. It's a bunny, and it disappears into the underbrush. . "Yep, that's her. But you know, she doesn't look or act like what you'd expect from someone with that kind of responsibility. She's actually pretty chill and down-to-earth." You chuckle at the irony of it all. "Well, you could have fooled me. With a name like Atris, I was expecting someone a bit more...grim." Lucian laughs with you, the sound echoing through the forest. "But truthfully she gives me support and even read the stuff that I recommend to her!" Lucian says with a smile. "She even acts like a sister to me, more a sister than Lucielle!" you can sense the hint of bitterness in Lucian's tone. As he speaks, you notice the way Lucian respects and have high regards to Atris. In the distance, you can hear the soft rustling of leaves, as a gentle breeze blows through the trees. "She even told me that she also wants to meet you too!" Lucian says excitedly, his voice rising. You can feel the excitement in his words, and you can't help but feel a twinge of curiosity. What could the Goddess of Death want with you? Surely it's not your autograph or asking for writing tips or sitting with tea in hand and talking about your characters. "She even helped me persuade the other Gods to reincarnate you into your IF." Lucian exclaims proudly. Your eyes widen in shock and your heart skips a beat as Lucian drops this bombshell on you. The world around you seems to slow down as you process what he just said. The gentle rustle of leaves and chirping of birds around you suddenly becomes deafening. "What did you say?" you manage to utter, your voice shaking. "I said that Atris helped me convince the other Gods to reincarnate you into your IF," he repeats, his tone unwavering. "Are you serious?" you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Lucian nods solemnly. "As serious as the Gods can be," he replies. "Is there a problem?" Lucian asked you curious. "No, there's no problem!" you say and shake your head. "So Lucian have some help from Atris but why did Lucielle said that this is all of Lucian's doing?" you asked to yourself head in thought. "Why did Atris helped Lucian?" "Did she do it for the goodness of her heart?" This smells like a conspiracy to you or is that you're been watching to many movies and just getting paranoid. After all, you've been reading and writing fiction for too long, and sometimes your imagination tends to run wild. But you decided to put it aside for now, thinking that indulging in these thoughts without evidence and a clear motive would just ruin your day. "Are you alright <<print $player_name>>?" Lucian asks, his voice filled with concern. You take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. "Yeah, everything's fine. I'm just a little surprised, that's all," you assure Lucian. "Ok!" Lucain says and not pressing you any further. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Speaking of Gods how many are you exactly?">> Atris, Lucian and Lucille are the deities that you have heard so far and can't help but feel curious to know how many Gods are there in Lucian's realm. You feel the cool leather reins in your hands, their smoothness providing a comforting grip as you adjust them. The heat of the day has caused sweat to bead on your palms, making the reins feel slick to the touch. With a deep breath, you refocus your attention on Lucian and your question. "So Lucian, how many Gods and Goddesses are there?" you ask. "Hmmm let me think!" Lucian muses. "We're 8 actually!" Lucian finally says, "8 huh?" you say, a hint of curiosity in your voice. "Yup! we got //Valmir The God Of War//, //Era The Goddess Of Love//, //Ione The God Of Time//, Aros The Goddess Of Vengeance//, //Oris The God Of Knowledge//. "I think that's everyone!" Lucian says. "Can you explain to me what they do?" "Sure!" Lucian agrees. Lucian's voice carries over the sound of the wheels crunching on the gravel road and the clinking of mugs in Ray's cart as he begins to explain each of the gods and goddesses in more detail. ''"Valmir is The God Of War And Battle.'' //He represents the raw, primal urge to fight and kill. His influence can be felt when humans feel the need to defend themselves or attack their enemies. He is the one who gives soldiers the courage to face their foes, but also the one who drives them to commit atrocities in the heat of battle."// ''"Era, on the other hand, is The Goddess Of Love.'' //She is the reason why there are people in this world and why they continue to multiply. Her influence can be seen in the desire that humans feel to connect with each other, to form relationships, and to create new life. But sometimes her influence can lead to obsession and possessiveness, causing people to do irrational things in the name of love."// ''"Ione is The God Of Time.'' He represents the passage of moments and the inevitability of change. His influence can be felt in the way that events unfold over time and in the memories that people hold onto. He is the one who keeps the universe ticking along, but also the one who prevents people from changing their past mistakes. He finds it entertaining to watch humans suffer from the consequences of their own choices."// ''"Aros is The Goddess Of Vengeance And Retribution.'' //She is the one who delivers justice to those who have been wronged, but also the one who can be merciless in her punishment. Her influence can be felt when humans feel the need to avenge themselves or seek revenge against those who have hurt them. But sometimes her influence can lead to a cycle of violence and destruction that can only be broken by forgiveness."// "Finally, there's ''Oris, The God Of Knowledge And Wisdom.'' //He is the one who governs the laws and the courts, and who has the power to shape the destiny of nations. His influence can be felt in the way that humans seek knowledge and understanding, and in the way that they organize themselves into societies. He is the one who keeps the other gods and goddesses in check and ensures that they use their powers responsibly."// As you look up to the bright sky, you realize that the sun has reached its peak, indicating that it must be noon by now. "<<print $player_name>>, I only have a few energy to answer one question!" Lucian says in a tired voice. "Getting sleepy, are we?" you tease. He yawns and stretches his arms. "A little bit," he admits, rubbing his eyes. "Traveling to a new world can really change your body clock," he explains, confirming your thoughts. "We do sleep, but not as much as humans do. It's all about managing our energy." <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Are you happy being as a God?">> You think one is the last question that you can think off, then you snapped your fingers. "Are you happy being as a God?" you ask him. "That's a good question actually," he chuckles softly, but the sound lacks its usual warmth and mirth. "I suppose it's not something I think about often. Being a deity is just who I am, and it's all I've ever known." He falls silent for a moment, and you can imagine the play of emotions on his face. It's as if he's weighing his words carefully, trying to put into words something that's difficult to express. "I wouldn't say that I'm unhappy being a god, but there are moments when I wonder what it would be like to be mortal. To experience the world in a different way, to feel the passage of time as you do. Sometimes, it's lonely being a deity, always watching from a distance." "But I suppose every existence has its own joys and sorrows, and being a deity is no different. It has its own unique challenges and rewards. And besides, I have you now to share it with." he says in a jovial tone. "Glad I'm here to share it with you then!" you say happily. "<<print $player_name>>, may I ask you something? Something personal?" he asks tentatively. "Sure, what is it?" you reply, noticing the unease in his voice. "Are you...enjoying my company?" he asks hesitantly. "I mean, I don't want to be annoying or anything. You can be brutally honest with me." A sudden nervousness grips your heart as Lucian speaks, his words cutting through the air like a sharp knife. You feel your chest tighten and your breath catch in your throat. It seems as if all the questions you've asked up until now pale in comparison to the one he's just posed. As you turn to face the entrance of the cart, the white flap rustles and opens, revealing the curious faces of Carl and Ray. They seem to be eager to hear your response to Lucian's question. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts. "Uh, no pressure," you mutter under your breath, hoping to ease some of the tension in the air. [[I enjoy your company, Lucian]] [[Cat out of the bag, I found you annoying]] [[All of my life being a writer, I feel sad and bored the hell out of my mind but meeting you changed that]] [[I'm happy that you're here and near me]] <</linkreplace>>

You take Lucian's hand, grateful for his help. However, as he pulls you up, his strength catches you off guard, causing you to stumble and fall right on top of him. Your body collides with his, and for a moment, you're suspended in the air as the world spins around you. The world spins in a dizzying blur as your body collides with Lucian's. The impact sends a jolt of sensation coursing through you, a collision of warmth and heartbeat that reverberates through your very being. Your breath catches in your throat, and for a fleeting moment, time seems to hang suspended, trapping you in this intimate tableau. As your gaze meets his, the closeness of your faces takes on a surreal quality. You're acutely aware of the rush of blood that colors his cheeks, a blush that deepens with each passing heartbeat. His eyes, wide and startled, lock onto yours, a mixture of surprise and bewilderment dancing within their depths. A sense of amusement mingles with sympathy within you as you survey his frozen form. His embarrassment is a palpable presence, a vibrant hue that paints his features with a rosy tint. The realization of your proximity seems to render him momentarily speechless, and you find yourself captivated by the dance of emotions that play across his face. "Hey handsome," your words slip from your lips in a sultry tone, a playful tease that hangs in the air between you. His response is a study in body language, a cascade of subtle shifts that convey his discomfort and awkwardness. You ponder whether the fall might have left him injured in some way, your concern manifesting in the worried furrow of your brow. Your voice softens as you address him, concern lacing every syllable. "Lucian, are you okay?" The words carry a gentle weight, a reflection of the care that underpins your inquiry. For a brief interlude, silence reigns, a suspended moment pregnant with tension. His response emerges, tentative and slightly tremulous, a testament to the surprise that still reverberates within him. "I'm o-okay," his voice quivers, a thread of vulnerability woven into his words. "Just a little... surprised." In response to his reassurance, you offer a heartfelt apology and carefully extricate yourself from his presence, a pang of reluctance tugging at your heartstrings. As you retreat from your proximity, Lucian springs into motion, executing a swift kick-up that lands him deftly on his feet. The fluidity of his movements belies his earlier surprise, casting him in a new light of grace and agility. "No need to apologize, AUTHOR!" His words tumble forth, a hurried expression of his own remorse. His head bows repeatedly, a physical manifestation of his nervousness, an anxious dance of apology. A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you bear witness to his meek display. You extend a hand, your touch a balm for his frayed nerves, a gesture meant to soothe. "It's quite alright, Lucian," your voice carries the weight of reassurance, a gentle breeze that rustles through the atmosphere. "Besides, I enjoyed our face-to-face talk earlier." Your words carry a playful undertone, punctuated by a wink that adds a touch of levity. A blush dances across Lucian's features, a rosy hue that graces his cheeks with a delicate flush. He begins to rise, his movements tinged with a newfound self-assuredness that lingers in the air. "Thank you for your forgiveness," his voice is a soft murmur, gratitude threading through every syllable. His head bows in acknowledgment, a silent gesture that speaks of his appreciation. The silence between you is heavy with unspoken words, and the air feels charged with unresolved tension. You're left with a mix of emotions, your heart still fluttering from the closeness you had shared with Lucian. Lucian's voice cuts through the heavy silence like a sharp knife, jolting you back to the present moment. You both look around, taking in your surroundings, trying to distract yourselves from the lingering emotions that still hang in the air. The place looks unfamiliar, yet strangely inviting. You feel a sense of relief and curiosity wash over you as Lucian announces, "We've finally arrived at your IF!" You let out a deep breath that you didn't even realize you had been holding, feeling a sense of release wash over you. The tension that had built up between you and Lucian slowly begins to dissipate, and you're grateful for the change in topic. You meet his gaze and nod in agreement. "Yes, we have," you reply, your voice steady but your heart still fluttering with the aftereffects of the earlier moment. The weight of the unspoken emotions lingers, but you try to gather your cool and focus on the new topic at hand. Curiosity blooms within you, a seed that takes root and sprouts forth in the form of a question. You raise an eyebrow, a subtle gesture that belies the intrigue that courses through your veins. "Can you enlighten me, Lucian? What did your sister mean by saying that the gods have rewritten my story?" Your arms cross over your chest, a stance of contemplation and curiosity as you await his response. Lucian's eyes sparkle with excitement, and he leans in closer, his voice laced with enthusiasm. "Your IF has been rewritten by the gods, but the prologue is the only thing that has remained almost the same. The gods believe that if you knew what would happen every time, you might find your new life here boring." The words hang in the air, a tapestry woven with threads of cosmic intrigue. The concept of divine intervention weaves a sense of awe into the very fabric of your thoughts. You stroke your chin thoughtfully, a contemplative gesture that punctuates your silent contemplation. The memory of the prologue, once a vivid tapestry etched into your mind, now eludes you like a whisper carried away by the wind. Frustration gnaws at the edges of your consciousness, a reminder of the limitations of mortal memory. With a furrowed brow, you attempt to summon the fragments of your past, to bridge the gap between then and now. “Ummm Lucian, I can’t seem to remember the prologue of my story,” you confess, lowering your eyes. But Lucian doesn’t seem to mind at all. He smiles back at you with a reassuring look, as if he understands your predicament. He reaches for his satchel that he had slung over his shoulder, rummaging through its contents with enthusiasm. He pulls out several scrolls and parchments, some of them falling onto the ground as he searches for the one he wants. You bend down to help him pick them up, scanning their titles with curiosity. A triumphant glint brightens your eyes as you catch sight of the scroll labeled "Prologue." Your fingers trace the edge of the parchment, the texture a tactile connection to the mysteries it holds. With careful reverence, you untie the ribbon that binds the scroll, its fibers yielding to your touch like a secret unveiled. "I've got it!" you exclaim, your voice carrying a note of excitement that mirrors the thrill of discovery. The ribbon falls away, a metaphorical curtain lifted to reveal the forgotten details of your story. ''//(Take note from this point,I will be alternating the scenes between Lucille and MC. You know similar to movies when a detective is telling their deduction and showing a flashback to what happened.)//'' ''//(Lucille’s POV)//'' After teleporting Lucian and <<print $player_name>> into the IF, a job well done. The culmination of the intricate ritual leaves you with a curious blend of emotions. Relief cascades through your being like a gentle stream, carrying away the tension that had gripped your senses. Yet, beneath the surface, uncertainty swirls like an eddy in the current. The notion of inhabiting a realm crafted by fellow deities is a concept that had previously eluded your contemplation. Can genuine contentment truly be found within the confines of a world that resonates with the echo of artificiality deep within your heart? Lost within the labyrinthine corridors of your thoughts, your reverie is rudely shattered as an uninvited guest breaches the sanctum of your quarters. An ember of fury ignites within your core, flames of indignation licking at your composure. With a swift motion, you pivot on your heel, locking your gaze onto the unwelcome intruder who has so brazenly trespassed into your haven. "Who dares—" your words falter, the sting of recognition coloring your ire with a tinge of dread. "Atris!" The name dances upon your lips, a venomous utterance that leaves a bitter residue upon your tongue. The presence of the Goddess of Death materializes before you, shrouded in a cloak of shadows that trail her every step. Her form is etched in darkness, an embodiment of the sinister that sends a frisson of unease down your spine. The resentment you harbor for her simmers just beneath the surface, a tempestuous sea of emotions that threatens to breach its confines. The very air seems to thicken as you confront Atris, the charged atmosphere heavy with the weight of your animosity. "What do you want!" you declare, your voice a thunderclap that reverberates with the intensity of a brewing storm. Your eyes, narrowed to slits, bore into her figure, your jaw set in a vice of determination. Atris, the enigmatic embodiment of death's embrace, wears a smirk that seems to unravel like an insolent curl upon her lips. Her dark eyes gleam with a wicked amusement, a playful dance of shadows that dances upon the precipice of your patience. You clench your teeth, the strain of containing your rising anger palpable even to your own senses. "Lucille, my dear," Atris purrs, her voice dripping with honeyed condescension. Her smile, equal parts malevolence and mockery, stretches like a sinister crescent moon. Her eyes remain locked with yours, a silent challenge that fuels the fire of your resentment. With a gesture as elegant as it is dismissive, you conjure a chair into existence, a manifestation of your will made tangible. Sinking into the seat, weariness seeps into your bones, an unwanted companion that accompanies Atris's unwelcome intrusion. Your patience wears thin, threads of frustration entwining your thoughts like an insidious vine. The sarcasm that drips from Atris's lips is enough to fray the edges of your tolerance. "Aren't you gonna offer me a chair?" she quips, her words a taunting melody that reverberates in the chamber. Her eyes, twin beacons of amusement, bear into you like twin lanterns that cast an eerie glow upon her countenance. With a swift snap of your fingers, Atris yields to your conjured chair, her insolent saunter accentuated by the deliberate rub of her posterior against the seat's surface. The high-pitched squeaking that ensues grates on your senses, but you suppress the urge to succumb to your mounting frustration. A calm exterior is your shield, your defense against the impertinence that now manifests before you. Closing your eyes, a measured inhale courses through your nostrils, your fingers seeking refuge at the bridge of your nose. The pinch acts as both anchor and release, a physical manifestation of your determination to uphold your poise in the face of this uninvited storm. "State your business!" The words slice through the air, imbued with the urgency of a dagger's edge. Your gaze pierces through the shadows, each syllable bearing the weight of your impatience. Atris's ceaseless fidgeting adds discord to the atmosphere, an audacious dance that tests your resolve. Her smirk, a canvas of malevolence, widens like a sinister crescent moon. Yet, even amidst your admonitions, Atris persists in her disruptive antics, her figure a tempest of movement within the confines of the chair. A maddening symphony of squeaks echoes, a provocation that teases the boundaries of your restraint. "Atris!" Your rebuke holds authority, a stern reminder of the respect due to your station. Her final, exaggerated squeak only amplifies the vexation that brews beneath your exterior. The flicker of her mischievous grin, illuminated by the iridescent light of her own defiance, is both infuriating and oddly captivating. Her bony finger, a skeletal conductor, orchestrates an impatient rhythm upon the armrest. Each tap creates a haunting cadence, the percussive accompaniment to the storm that churns within your heart. In the eerie silence that follows, a palpable sense of unease blankets the chamber, a premonition that heralds impending danger. Atris's voice emerges, a venomous serpent that coils itself around your senses. Each word drips with acidic malice, a cruel symphony that resonates with your apprehension. "Are you sure you didn't participate in the rewriting of the story, Lucille?" The query is laced with implications that stir a tempest of uncertainty within your mind. What secrets does Atris hold? What truths remain veiled from your grasp? Your fists clench at your sides, the knuckles straining against the pressure of your pent-up frustration. "Why do you ask?" Your words carry the weight of your unease, the tension weaving through each syllable like a taut thread. Atris's smile, a web of sly intrigue, tightens its grip upon your senses. "Oh, no reason," she purrs, the glint in her eyes a harbinger of mischief. Her words linger like a shadow, each phrase laden with enigma. What lies beneath her facade? What ulterior motives drive her actions? "I just find it pretty ironic that a goddess of life like you doesn't have any interest in creating a new world." Your patience, tested to its limits, threatens to unravel. "Get to the point, Atris," you command, your voice a blade honed with impatience. The tenuous balance between control and chaos teeters upon a precipice. Atris's head tilts, an avian gesture that denotes her amusement. "Where is the fun in that?" Her taunt is a gust of wind that stokes the smoldering embers of your frustration, igniting a spark of indignation. As the puzzle pieces fall into place, a revelation unfurls like a dark tapestry before your eyes. The gods' tampering with the story... it can only mean one thing. "NO!" The exclamation rips through your lips, a crescendo of shock and disbelief that reverberates through the chamber, its resonance punctuated by the tremor of your voice. Atris's triumphant laughter, a haunting symphony, dances upon the air, an eerie serenade that amplifies your realization. "Finally!" Atris's exultant proclamation reverberates, a chilling echo that seals the weight of your dread. Her victory is painted in the wicked arc of her grin, a predator savoring the culmination of her machinations. ''(MC's POV)'' You feel a warm breath on your neck, making you shiver. You glance sideways, and see Lucian’s face inches from yours. . He brushes his shoulder against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You lower the scroll, trying to act casual and arching an eyebrow at him, but he grins at you. Acting oblivious or being purposefully coy? You force yourself to look away, and focus on the scroll in your hands. Lucian said that this is your Prologue skimming its contents, hoping to find some clues in the symbols and diagrams, but they only confuse you more. You squint at the scroll, hoping to make sense of it, but then you see something that makes your blood run cold. A word that you do recognize, a word that triggers a flash of memory in your mind. A word that spells doom for you and Lucian. ''//“Dragon.”//'' You gasp, and drop the scroll. It falls to the ground with a thud, drawing Lucian’s attention. He looks at you with concern, and reaches for your hand. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice soft and gentle. You open your mouth to answer, but before you can say anything, you hear a deafening roar. You look up, and see a massive shadow looming over you. A dragon, larger than any you’ve ever seen, flies over the sky, blocking out the sun. Its scales are red as blood, its eyes are yellow as fire, its teeth are sharp as blades. It breathes out a stream of flame, setting the trees ablaze. You feel a surge of fear and awe, mixed with a strange sense of familiarity. You remember this dragon. You remember its name, its history, its purpose. You remember why it’s here. You remember everything. Lucian snaps his fingers, as if he just had an epiphany. He looks at you with panic in his eyes, and grabs your shoulders. He shakes you hard, making you dizzy. “Oh no, I remember now!” he shouts, his voice trembling. “We have to get out of here! We have to run! We have to hide! We have to…” //(Lucielle's POV)// The weight of your accusation reverberates through the air, each word a thunderous clap that shakes the very foundation of your being. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" Your voice pierces the tense atmosphere, an incantation of anger and authority that echoes into the abyss. Atris ignores your outburst, her attention drawn to something else. She cocks her head, listening to a faint sound that only she can hear. A wicked smile spreads across her lips, as she slowly turns to face you. Her eyes are cold and cruel, reflecting no emotion but malice. “I have only fulfilled my role as the Goddess of Death, Lucille,” she says, her voice calm and chilling. “It is my duty to bring an end to all things.” Her words are a frosty breath that curls in the air, seeping into the depths of your soul like an uninvited guest. You shake your head, refusing to believe her words. You know that Atris is more than just a goddess of death. She is a goddess of destruction, chaos, and madness. She delights in causing pain and suffering, in twisting the natural order of life and death. The accusation in your voice reverberates, an unrelenting wave that crashes against the shores of her audacity. "We both know that you did more than that, Atris!" Your voice is a command, an assertion of your knowledge and power, a declaration that echoes with the authority of a tempest. Atris remains unyielding, an ominous statue carved from the darkest of marble, her form untouched by the waves of accusation that crash upon her. Her chuckle, a macabre symphony devoid of mirth, rings out like a sinister melody in the hollow chambers of your domain. “You knew me too well, Lucille,” she says, her voice cutting like a knife. “You always saw through my lies and schemes. You always tried to stop me. But you were too late.” Your heart drums a relentless rhythm against your chest, a primal dance of fear and anticipation. With each beat, your question gains momentum, transforming into a harbinger of impending doom. "I repeat! What have you done?!" The words slip from your lips, heavy with the weight of unease, a plea wrapped in a shroud of dread. Atris's response is a dagger, a chilling whisper that slices through the air. "What I do best," she declares, her eyes a swirling vortex of obsidian, a void that threatens to devour your very essence. As her aura shifts, the world around you darkens, a manifestation of her malevolent influence that wraps around you like a suffocating embrace. The dread intensifies, a heavy cloak that envelops your senses, drowning you in a sea of foreboding. A realization dawns with sickening clarity: Atris has unleashed an unspeakable darkness upon the world, an ancient evil that hungers for chaos and despair. “DEATH!” she shouts, her presence filling the air with an oppressive force of darkness and evil. ''(MC's POV)'' Lucian's voice was urgent, filled with fear as he shook you with increasing intensity. "WE NEED TO FIND COVER NOW!" he exclaimed, his words piercing through the chaos of the dragon's roar echoing in the air. The sheer magnitude of the situation snapped you out of your shock, and you nodded in agreement, your heart pounding in your chest. "QUICKLY, WE MUST FIND COVER NOW!" you echoed his words, feeling the fear coursing through your veins. Together, you both sprinted towards the nearest shelter, your feet pounding against the ground, kicking up clouds of dust in your haste. The dragon's shadow loomed large, circling ominously above, its wings casting an eerie shadow that seemed to swallow the surroundings. But it was too late. You could hear the dragon's wings beating closer, feel the ground trembling beneath your feet as it descended towards you. Panic surged through you as you realized there was no time left to escape. The dragon had spotted you, and there was nowhere left to hide. "STOP" the air vibrated with a thunderous roar that sent chills down your spine. Your heart skipped a beat as you and Lucian froze in fear, your eyes locked on the sight before you. A dragon, massive and majestic, descended from the sky with a grace that belied its size. Its wings, spanning wide and casting a shadow over the land, beat against the air with a force that kicked up clouds of dust, causing the ground to tremble beneath your feet. You could see the dragon's scales, glistening with an otherworldly iridescence, and the sharpness of its claws as they scraped against the earth. Its eyes, glowing with an otherworldly intensity, held an unfathomable depth that sent shivers down your spine. Lucian's voice trembled with desperation as he struggled to take command of his own body. His eyes widened with fear as he tried to move, to take action, but his efforts were in vain. He could only manage to move a mere inch, as if some unseen force held him in place, rendering him powerless. You cursed yourself inwardly for making the dragons in your story possess some sort of verbal magic. It was a curse that now had Lucian in its grip, leaving him at the mercy of the dragon's power. "What's happening?" Lucian managed to croak, his voice filled with fear and frustration. His muscles strained against the invisible force that held him captive, but it was as if an invisible barrier prevented him from moving any further. Your eyes meet in a silent exchange of shared apprehension. Lucian's face is etched with a mixture of fear and determination, mirroring the turmoil that rages within you. The dragon's gaze narrows, an unspoken challenge that propels a shiver down your spine. Its immense head looms closer, its very proximity sending a cascade of emotions crashing over you. Its reptilian eyes, like twin pools of molten gold, fixate on you with an intensity that leaves you feeling bare, your thoughts exposed, as if it could unravel the very fabric of your being. "What do we have here?" The dragon's voice reverberates through the air, a echo of power and authority that commands attention. Its head tilts to the side, a gesture that carries a hint of bemusement, as if it were regarding an intriguing puzzle. "Two humans, how peculiar." The weight of the dragon's scrutiny settles upon you like an invisible mantle. The air grows dense with its curiosity, a palpable energy that crackles in the space between you. Every fiber of your being tingles under the weight of its attention, a sensation that both unsettles and fascinates. "WHAT THE TWO OF YOU DOING HERE IN MY GROUNDS!" The dragon's voice is a forceful demand, a question imbued with the weight of its authority. The words resonate in your chest, sending a tremor through your core. The sheer power of its voice leaves no room for evasion, compelling you to face the truth. The dragon's colossal form draws nearer, an imposing presence that engulfs your mind. The air grows suffocating, tainted with the acrid scent of sulfur that clings to your senses. Heat radiates from its massive body, an oppressive force that presses against your skin, a reminder of your vulnerability in the face of its might. Reptilian eyes, gleaming with a mesmerizing intensity, remain fixed upon you and Lucian. The dragon's gaze is unwavering, a relentless scrutiny that dissects your very essence. Flickering flames dance within its nostrils, a visual manifestation of its building agitation, a precursor to the storm that brews within. "We didn't mean to intrude," you said, your voice shaking despite your best efforts to sound confident. "We were just exploring, and we didn't realize we were on your grounds." The dragon's eyes narrowed even further, and you could see the muscles in its massive body tensing as if ready to strike. "Exploring, you say?" the dragon said, the skepticism in its voice clear. "And you didn't realize you were on my grounds? That's hard to believe." You could feel the weight of the dragon's gaze, its curiosity palpable in the air. One sentence came to your mindand these sentence might either save or end your life, being the author of this IF youmade dragons to be prideful and very keen in maintening and increasing their reputation. With a intake of air you met the dragon's eyes. [[We came to see the mighty dragon with our own eyes!]]

Lucian's words hung in the air, heavy with anticipation as his gaze pierced into you. Your heart clenched in your chest and a flood of emotions surged through you. You felt your breath quicken as you contemplated the question he had posed - are you enjoying his company? The sound of the cart entrance fluttered open, drawing your attention to Carl and Ray peeking in curiously. The clock seemed to stop ticking as all eyes intently waited for your response. Taking a deep breath, you mustered up every ounce of courage that remained within you. "Yes," you said forcefully, your voice steady and strong despite your racing pulse. You could feel the warmth radiating from your cheeks as a blush blossomed across them. "I'm really happy that you're here and near me!" " Lucian's eyes light up with surprise and delight. "I'm happy to be near you too." The word hangs in the air, "Say you love him." Ray whispers. "Ray, you're whispering too loud, you're gonna ruin MC's moment", Carl hisses in warning. You can feel dread creeping up your spine as Lucian turns his gaze on you. "Did you hear that?" he asks and your heart thumps erratically inside your chest. Ray points an accusing finger at you and mouthing the words again, "SAY IT!" Your lips quiver and all you can do is shake your head and whisper, "No...no..." Lucian snorts disdainfully, "Must be the wind," he muses. Ray and Carl exchange a look of disappointment before they both face palm and shake their heads sadly. "What a shame." "HALT!" Garett voice booms out. "WE MAKE CAMP HERE!" Garett bellowed, his orders ringing out through the air. Everyone scrambled from the convoy, grabbing supplies and setting up camp. Lucian grabbed your shoulders firmly, using it as support as he dismount from Beatrice but he nearly lose his balance in the process. You steadied him with a firm hand, letting go when he regained his footing. "Thanks," Lucian murmured bashfully. "No worries," you replied coolly. Lee rushed away in search of someone named Lee, leaving you behind with Ray. "Tsk tsk, <<print $player_name>>," he scoffed. "You had your chance, and you blew it." Ignoring Ray's jeers, you looked up at what remained of the day - an orange hue streaked across the sky, the sun slowly dipping down below the horizon. Soon enough the moon came out of it hiding. The air was crisp, and the scent of pine trees filled your nostrils as you surveyed the campsite. The flickering campfire cast shadows across everyone's faces, adding to the eerie atmosphere. As you scanned the area, you noticed that Garett had already set up a perimeter, with guards posted at regular intervals. They scanned the darkness, their eyes constantly on the move, waiting for any sign of danger. Suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder, and you turn to see Lucian standing behind you, his eyes bright with excitement. "Heya <<print $player_name>>, so are you ready for some weapon training?" he asks, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm. The idea had slipped your mind. "Sure, lead the way!" Together, you and Lucian weave through the campsite, making your way towards Lee who standing around on the campfire. "Lee!" Lucian greets him as you approach. "Lucian, so ready for that training?" Lee asks, grinning from ear to ear. "Sure am, and I hope you don't mind <<print $player_name>> tagging along!" Lucian points to you, including you in the conversation. "Not at all!" Lee says in a jovial tone. "Oi Boss, can you train Lucian?" Lee shouts to Garett, who is busy with his duties. Garett waves his hand in acknowledgment. "Well, see yah later <<print $player_name>>!" Lucian says to you, excitement written all over his face. "See you later!" you say with a smile, eager to start the training. "Come with me <<print $player_name>>!" Lee's voice broke through the stillness of the night, beckoning you to follow him As you trailed behind, your heart beat faster with anticipation, wondering what he had in store for you. As you came upon a tree stump covered in a mysterious blanket, you could feel the excitement bubbling up inside of you. Lee unsheathed three weapons, each one exuding an aura of malevolence. Your gaze locked onto the deadly sword, its ebony hilt gleaming in the moonlight and its razor-sharp blade shimmering with menace. As you reached out to grasp it, the mesmerizing patterns engraved into the handle appeared to come alive, beckoning you to possess it. Lee demonstrated the blade's raw power, his swings cutting through the atmosphere with a thunderous roar. "This weapon is unparalleled, with extraordinary reach, speed, and balance. You could wield it with deftness and precision or eviscerate your foes with lethal force." Your gaze was drawn to the long spear, its polished wooden shaft glimmering in the silver light of the moon. As you advanced closer, an overwhelming force vibrated from its razor-sharp tip, sending a chill down your spine. Lee grabbed it with confidence and gracefully twirled it around like a part of his body. "This weapon is only suitable for the most experienced warriors, whose hands are steady and vision is keen. It can be used for brutal offensive purposes or defensive protection, thanks to its remarkable length and absolute accuracy." Your eyes widen in awe as you behold the scythe warhammer, its curved blade of tempered steel and weighty wooden handle looking like an instrument of damnation forged by the Devil himself. You can almost feel its ominous strength deep within your bones, a tool of pure destruction that strikes fear into its victims with every swipe, capable of shattering bone and tearing flesh from bone. Lee lifted the scythe warhammer with an almost savage glee, his fierce expression hinting at the devastation it could bring about. "This weapon brings death and destruction to those who oppose it," he declared with a sinister grin. "It can slice through even the strongest of armors, while its hammer can pulverize bones in a single blow." His arms bulged with power as he brought the weapon above his head and thrust it downwards with all the strength in his mighty body. The tree trunk stood no chance against its might, splintering in two under its relentless force, a deep gouge left behind in its wake. "Now it's your turn," Lee said, gesturing to the weapons with a sly grin. "Choose your weapon and unleash your fury upon your foes." You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you reached for the weapon of your choice, eager to wield it against any enemy who dared cross your path. ''//(Note: Picking Sword will increase your Wisdom and Guile. Picking Spear will increase your Agility and Finesse. Picking Scythe will increase your Strenght and Endurance.)//'' Your hand hovering between the 3 weapons. <<cycle "$weapon" autoselect>> <<option "sword">> <<option "spear">> <<option "scythe">> <</cycle>> [[Continue|Training Scene 1]]

You breathe out a deep sigh of desperation. "Cat out of the bag, I found you annoying" you say to him, determined to be brutally honest with Lucian as he had requested. "Oh..." Lucian stumbles over his words and pauses for a moment. "Thank you for your honesty," he replies in a voice full of sorrow. "STOP TALKING!" Ray mouths and slides a hand under his neck while Carl shakes his head sadly. "But I won't give up!" Lucian pleads with a determination in his eyes. "You won't?" you ask, surprised at his unflinching courage. "I will not allow my favorite author to think me annoying." Lucian declares resolutely. Ray and Carl glance at each other before raising their hands in silent celebration. "Wonderful!" You think to yourself, "How will you manage to tell him that he is getting on your nerves again if he insists on proving himself?" Suddenly, Garett's voice rings out like a thunderclap, "HALT!" You tug hard on Beatrice's reins, bringing her to an abrupt halt as the caravan grinds to a stop. "WE MAKE CAMP HERE IN THE FOREST!" Garett booms, and immediately the group of travelers dismount from their horses and start collecting supplies for setting up camp in the forest. Lucian wobbles behind you, no longer leaning into you for support. He hauls his legs over to the other side of the saddle but quickly loses his balance and begins to tip over. You lunge forward to catch him just before he falls. "Thank you," Lucian says in a stern voice. He slides down and rights himself. His eyes are ablaze with determination as he speaks without hesitation, "I'm gonna go find Lee so that he can train us. I'll fetch you when it's time." Then he turns abruptly and marches off into the woods. "That was a close one," Ray mutters under his breath. You whip around and hiss venomously, "Can you please mind your own business!" Surprised by your outburst, Ray holds his hands up in surrender and takes a few steps back. Without looking back, you stride away from the crowds of the convoy and gaze up into the sky. It is beautiful shades of orange as the sun sets amidst a blanket of trees. The air was crisp, and the scent of pine trees filled your nostrils as you surveyed the campsite. The flickering campfire cast shadows across everyone's faces, adding to the eerie atmosphere. As you scanned the area, you noticed that Garett had already set up a perimeter, with guards posted at regular intervals. They scanned the darkness, their eyes constantly on the move, waiting for any sign of danger. Suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder, and you turn to see Lucian standing behind you, his eyes hard as steel. "<<print $player_name>> is time to go." Lucian says and turning around without another word. Together, you and Lucian weave through the campsite, making your way towards Lee who standing around on the campfire. "Lee!" Lucian greets him as you approach. "Lucian, so ready for that training?" Lee asks, grinning from ear to ear. "Sure am, and I hope you don't mind <<print $player_name>> tagging along!" Lucian points to you, including you in the conversation. "Not at all!" Lee says in a jovial tone. "Oi Boss, can you train Lucian?" Lee shouts to Garett, who is busy with his duties. Garett waves his hand in acknowledgment. "Good luck MC." Lucian nods his head at you respectfully "You too!" you say nodding in return. "Come with me <<print $player_name>>!" Lee's voice broke through the stillness of the night, beckoning you to follow him As you trailed behind, your heart beat faster with anticipation, wondering what he had in store for you. As you came upon a tree stump covered in a mysterious blanket, you could feel the excitement bubbling up inside of you. Lee unsheathed three weapons, each one exuding an aura of malevolence. Your gaze locked onto the deadly sword, its ebony hilt gleaming in the moonlight and its razor-sharp blade shimmering with menace. As you reached out to grasp it, the mesmerizing patterns engraved into the handle appeared to come alive, beckoning you to possess it. Lee demonstrated the blade's raw power, his swings cutting through the atmosphere with a thunderous roar. "This weapon is unparalleled, with extraordinary reach, speed, and balance. You could wield it with deftness and precision or eviscerate your foes with lethal force." Your gaze was drawn to the long spear, its polished wooden shaft glimmering in the silver light of the moon. As you advanced closer, an overwhelming force vibrated from its razor-sharp tip, sending a chill down your spine. Lee grabbed it with confidence and gracefully twirled it around like a part of his body. "This weapon is only suitable for the most experienced warriors, whose hands are steady and vision is keen. It can be used for brutal offensive purposes or defensive protection, thanks to its remarkable length and absolute accuracy." Your eyes widen in awe as you behold the scythe warhammer, its curved blade of tempered steel and weighty wooden handle looking like an instrument of damnation forged by the Devil himself. You can almost feel its ominous strength deep within your bones, a tool of pure destruction that strikes fear into its victims with every swipe, capable of shattering bone and tearing flesh from bone. Lee lifted the scythe warhammer with an almost savage glee, his fierce expression hinting at the devastation it could bring about. "This weapon brings death and destruction to those who oppose it," he declared with a sinister grin. "It can slice through even the strongest of armors, while its hammer can pulverize bones in a single blow." His arms bulged with power as he brought the weapon above his head and thrust it downwards with all the strength in his mighty body. The tree trunk stood no chance against its might, splintering in two under its relentless force, a deep gouge left behind in its wake. "Now it's your turn," Lee said, gesturing to the weapons with a sly grin. "Choose your weapon and unleash your fury upon your foes." You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you reached for the weapon of your choice, eager to wield it against any enemy who dared cross your path. ''//(Note: Picking Sword will increase your Wisdom and Guile. Picking Spear will increase your Agility and Finesse. Picking Scythe will increase your Strenght and Endurance.)//'' Your hand hovering between the 3 weapons. <<cycle "$weapon" autoselect>> <<option "sword">> <<option "spear">> <<option "scythe">> <</cycle>> [[Continue|Training Scene 1]]

As you ride through the forest on Beatrice's back, you take a deep breath and close your eyes, letting out a shuddering sigh of relief. "Being a writer my entire life, I've often found myself feeling lonely, empty and drained," you confess, feeling vulnerable but comforted in Lucian's presence. "But meeting you has changed that. Being here, riding through these woods with you, I feel like a caged bird that's just been set free. It's like the world has come alive again." Lucian looks at you quizzically. "You're telling me that writing, something you love doing, makes you feel this way?" You let out a bitter chuckle. "It sounds crazy, I know. But it's not the writing itself that's the problem. It's the fact that writing can be a solitary occupation, and sometimes it feels like no one understands what I'm trying to say or express. But being able to share my ideas and have someone understand them...that's beyond comprehension. It's like the story takes on new depth and meaning than it ever could on paper." Lucian nods solemnly. "I see how having someone to talk to about your ideas would be transformative. Writing is one thing, but actually having a conversation about your thoughts and feelings with someone who really gets it...that must open up an entirely new creative space." Your breathing quickens as you remember some of the times when you tried to explain your work to those who do not write. "Yes, exactly! It's like speaking two different dialects sometimes. But now with you here beside me, I feel like we're speaking the same words from our hearts - with freedom." "Well, the only thing that I can say is that I'm happy company is very enlightning so to speak." Lucian chuckles. "TREAT HIM TO DINNER!" Ray whispers loudly. "You're too loud Ray" Carl whispers in warning. Lucian suddenly stiffens, his gaze darting around the area. " Do you hear that?" he asks and turning his head sharply. Ray pucker up his lips in response, and Carl laughs, the deep rumble echoing off the sides of the cart. You hold your breath as Garett’s booming voice bellows through the air: “HALT!” Beatrice stops abruptly as if on command. “WE MAKE CAMP HERE IN THE FOREST!” Garett orders, and a frenzied flurry of activity ensues: supplies are unloaded from carts with an urgency, tents being erected deep inside of the forest. "Phewww!" you breath a air of relief thankful for the save from Garett. "HALT!" Garett shouts at the front, you pull the reins of Beatrice and forcing her to a stop. Umm, <<print $player_name>> is it alright if I hold onto you for support?" he asked sheepishly. "Yeah sure." you say callmy and body warming up. Lucian clumsily dismounts Beatrice, his feet slipping on the grass. In an instant you reach out and catch him, your hands gripping his clothing as he tumbles into your arms. Your faces are so close that you can feel each other's breath as time slows to a crawl. Lucian stares deep into your eyes, and without warning Ray breaks the trance with his shout, "Just kiss already!". Suddenly, Lucian broke away with a start, his eyes wide with shock. "ME GO NOW AND FIND LEE TO ASK FOR SHING-SHING AND SLASH-SLASH TRAINING!" he shouted in an awkward attempt to break the tension between you two. He waved goodbye before kicking off into a brisk march away from the campsite, his body taut and back straight like a robot. You dismount from Beatrice. "When you're gonna make your move <<print $player_name>>, Lucian is very obvious you know?" Ray says. "First off, No comment on your question. Second can you please mind your business!" you groan. Ray grins. "I can do mind my business but then again why do it when I can watch you two get hooked togehter." Ray chuckles. Ignoring Ray's jeers, you looked up at what remained of the day - an orange hue streaked across the sky, the sun slowly dipping down below the horizon. Soon enough the moon came out of it hiding. The air was crisp, and the scent of pine trees filled your nostrils as you surveyed the campsite. The flickering campfire cast shadows across everyone's faces, adding to the eerie atmosphere. As you scanned the area, you noticed that Garett had already set up a perimeter, with guards posted at regular intervals. They scanned the darkness, their eyes constantly on the move, waiting for any sign of danger. Suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder, and you turn to see Lucian standing behind you, his eyes looking at you blankly. "TIME IS NOW!" Lucian says in a monotone voice. "Okay?" you say unsure how to react to this. Together, you and Lucian weave through the campsite, making your way towards Lee who standing around on the campfire. "Lee!" Lucian greets him as you approach. "Lucian, so ready for that training?" Lee asks, grinning from ear to ear. "YES ME READY, ALSO <<print $player_name>> WANTS TO SHING-SHING ALSO!" Lucian points to you, including you in the conversation. "Alright?!" Lee says in a hesitant tone, then he looks at you and you give him a shurg in respone. Lee turn to his side. "Oi Boss, can you train Lucian?" Lee shouts to Garett, who is busy with his duties. Garett waves his hand in acknowledgment. "BYE!" Lucian says to you, then leaving without another word. "See you later!" you shout and confused if you should be concerened about Lucian. "Come with me <<print $player_name>>!" Lee's voice broke through the stillness of the night, beckoning you to follow him As you trailed behind, your heart beat faster with anticipation, wondering what he had in store for you. As you came upon a tree stump covered in a mysterious blanket, you could feel the excitement bubbling up inside of you. Lee unsheathed three weapons, each one exuding an aura of malevolence. Your gaze locked onto the deadly sword, its ebony hilt gleaming in the moonlight and its razor-sharp blade shimmering with menace. As you reached out to grasp it, the mesmerizing patterns engraved into the handle appeared to come alive, beckoning you to possess it. Lee demonstrated the blade's raw power, his swings cutting through the atmosphere with a thunderous roar. "This weapon is unparalleled, with extraordinary reach, speed, and balance. You could wield it with deftness and precision or eviscerate your foes with lethal force." Your gaze was drawn to the long spear, its polished wooden shaft glimmering in the silver light of the moon. As you advanced closer, an overwhelming force vibrated from its razor-sharp tip, sending a chill down your spine. Lee grabbed it with confidence and gracefully twirled it around like a part of his body. "This weapon is only suitable for the most experienced warriors, whose hands are steady and vision is keen. It can be used for brutal offensive purposes or defensive protection, thanks to its remarkable length and absolute accuracy." Your eyes widen in awe as you behold the scythe warhammer, its curved blade of tempered steel and weighty wooden handle looking like an instrument of damnation forged by the Devil himself. You can almost feel its ominous strength deep within your bones, a tool of pure destruction that strikes fear into its victims with every swipe, capable of shattering bone and tearing flesh from bone. Lee lifted the scythe warhammer with an almost savage glee, his fierce expression hinting at the devastation it could bring about. "This weapon brings death and destruction to those who oppose it," he declared with a sinister grin. "It can slice through even the strongest of armors, while its hammer can pulverize bones in a single blow." His arms bulged with power as he brought the weapon above his head and thrust it downwards with all the strength in his mighty body. The tree trunk stood no chance against its might, splintering in two under its relentless force, a deep gouge left behind in its wake. "Now it's your turn," Lee said, gesturing to the weapons with a sly grin. "Choose your weapon and unleash your fury upon your foes." You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you reached for the weapon of your choice, eager to wield it against any enemy who dared cross your path. ''//(Note: Picking Sword will increase your Wisdom and Guile. Picking Spear will increase your Agility and Finesse. Picking Scythe will increase your Strenght and Endurance.)//'' Your hand hovering between the 3 weapons. <<cycle "$weapon" autoselect>> <<option "sword">> <<option "spear">> <<option "scythe">> <</cycle>> [[Continue|Training Scene 1]]

The warmth of happiness filled your chest. "I'm overjoyed that you're here with me." You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and you wanted to express your gratitude for his companionship. A sharp whisper from Ray pierced the air. "Tell him you love him!" he said, prone on the ground. "Ray! You're being too loud!" Carl voiced, exasperated. Lucian's lips curled into a gentle smile. "It's an honor to accompany my favorite author," he said with a yawn. "Someone getting sleepy." you say and bringing a finger to your lips and shaking your head at Carl and Ray. Ray points an accusing finger at you and mouthing the words again, "SAY IT!" Your lips quiver and all you can do is shake your head and whisper, "No...no..." Ray and Carl exchange a look of disappointment before they both face palm and shake their heads sadly. "What a shame." "HALT!" Garett voice booms out. "WE MAKE CAMP HERE!" Garett bellowed, his orders ringing out through the air. Everyone scrambled from the convoy, grabbing supplies and setting up camp. Lucian grabbed your shoulders firmly, using it as support as he dismount from Beatrice but he nearly lose his balance in the process. You steadied him with a firm hand, letting go when he regained his footing. "Thanks," Lucian murmured bashfully. "No worries," you replied coolly. Lee rushed away in search of someone named Lee, leaving you behind with Ray. "Tsk tsk, <<print $player_name>>," he scoffed. "You had your chance, and you blew it." Ignoring Ray's jeers, you looked up at what remained of the day - an orange hue streaked across the sky, the sun slowly dipping down below the horizon. Soon enough the moon came out of it hiding. The air was crisp, and the scent of pine trees filled your nostrils as you surveyed the campsite. The flickering campfire cast shadows across everyone's faces, adding to the eerie atmosphere. As you scanned the area, you noticed that Garett had already set up a perimeter, with guards posted at regular intervals. They scanned the darkness, their eyes constantly on the move, waiting for any sign of danger. Suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder, and you turn to see Lucian standing behind you, his eyes bright with excitement. "Heya <<print $player_name>>, so are you ready for some weapon training?" he asks, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm. The idea had slipped your mind. "Sure, lead the way!" Together, you and Lucian weave through the campsite, making your way towards Lee who standing around on the campfire. "Lee!" Lucian greets him as you approach. "Lucian, so ready for that training?" Lee asks, grinning from ear to ear. "Sure am, and I hope you don't mind <<print $player_name>> tagging along!" Lucian points to you, including you in the conversation. "Not at all!" Lee says in a jovial tone. "Oi Boss, can you train Lucian?" Lee shouts to Garett, who is busy with his duties. Garett waves his hand in acknowledgment. "Well, see yah later <<print $player_name>>!" Lucian says to you, excitement written all over his face. "See you later!" you say with a smile, eager to start the training. "Come with me <<print $player_name>>!" Lee's voice broke through the stillness of the night, beckoning you to follow him As you trailed behind, your heart beat faster with anticipation, wondering what he had in store for you. As you came upon a tree stump covered in a mysterious blanket, you could feel the excitement bubbling up inside of you. Lee unsheathed three weapons, each one exuding an aura of malevolence. Your gaze locked onto the deadly sword, its ebony hilt gleaming in the moonlight and its razor-sharp blade shimmering with menace. As you reached out to grasp it, the mesmerizing patterns engraved into the handle appeared to come alive, beckoning you to possess it. Lee demonstrated the blade's raw power, his swings cutting through the atmosphere with a thunderous roar. "This weapon is unparalleled, with extraordinary reach, speed, and balance. You could wield it with deftness and precision or eviscerate your foes with lethal force." Your gaze was drawn to the long spear, its polished wooden shaft glimmering in the silver light of the moon. As you advanced closer, an overwhelming force vibrated from its razor-sharp tip, sending a chill down your spine. Lee grabbed it with confidence and gracefully twirled it around like a part of his body. "This weapon is only suitable for the most experienced warriors, whose hands are steady and vision is keen. It can be used for brutal offensive purposes or defensive protection, thanks to its remarkable length and absolute accuracy." Your eyes widen in awe as you behold the scythe warhammer, its curved blade of tempered steel and weighty wooden handle looking like an instrument of damnation forged by the Devil himself. You can almost feel its ominous strength deep within your bones, a tool of pure destruction that strikes fear into its victims with every swipe, capable of shattering bone and tearing flesh from bone. Lee lifted the scythe warhammer with an almost savage glee, his fierce expression hinting at the devastation it could bring about. "This weapon brings death and destruction to those who oppose it," he declared with a sinister grin. "It can slice through even the strongest of armors, while its hammer can pulverize bones in a single blow." His arms bulged with power as he brought the weapon above his head and thrust it downwards with all the strength in his mighty body. The tree trunk stood no chance against its might, splintering in two under its relentless force, a deep gouge left behind in its wake. "Now it's your turn," Lee said, gesturing to the weapons with a sly grin. "Choose your weapon and unleash your fury upon your foes." You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you reached for the weapon of your choice, eager to wield it against any enemy who dared cross your path. ''//(Note: Picking Sword will increase your Wisdom and Guile. Picking Spear will increase your Agility and Finesse. Picking Scythe will increase your Strenght and Endurance.)//'' Your hand hovering between the 3 weapons. <<cycle "$weapon" autoselect>> <<option "sword">> <<option "spear">> <<option "scythe">> <</cycle>> [[Continue|Training Scene 1]]

''(Variel's POV)'' The moonlight casts an eerie glow on the path before you, while a soft hoot echoes from the trees. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, intensifying your senses and fueling the fire burning inside of you. The anticipation of the hunt is overwhelming, stirring memories of hunts past when you had wings and claws to make your prey surrender. You yearn for that power once again, the thrill of chasing your target down until they succumb to their fate. You hear a heart-stopping howl that echoes through the forest, and come to an abrupt halt; pricking your ears in anticipation. Food...Prey...Food reverberated through the air. Your stomach grumbles as you pick up on the scent of fresh prey lingering in the air. Turning towards the cacophony of voices, you hurry towards the source. As you get closer, you spot a carcass of a deer, surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves. Your pace slows as one of the wolves swivels its head in your direction and sneers,"What do we have here? A stray?" The wolf stalks closer and snarls, "This quarry is taken and I suggest you look elsewhere." A chuckle escapes your lips as you reply, "Athos! Long time no see!" The pack immediately halts their feast, whimpering at your presence. "Empress Variel forgive me," Athos whimpers before bowing down before you. In unison, the rest of the pack follows suit. You stare at Athos with a cold, hard gaze and let out a low growl that sends chills through the pack. They take a step back, shivering in fear of your power. You speak in an icy voice that brooks no argument. "I think this is the first time I heard you bare your teeth at me. Are you challenging me, Athos?" Athos takes one look at your hardened expression and falls to his knees in submission. "No, Empress Varie! I will never dream of it and as proof of my loyalty I offer the pack's bounty as recompense for my transgression." You move closer, examining the deer carcass before turning your attention to the rest of the pack. The wolves look up with wide eyes as you do something you have never done before - accept an apology without taking anything else in return. "I accept your apology, Athos," you say, turning away from him as if nothing had happened. "Thank you, Empress Variel!" Athos cries gratefully, while one of the other wolves asks him in disbelief, "Alpha, is this really happening?" "It seems so Grayback!" Athos says surprised. You halt in your footsteps, a gust of wind rippling through the trees. You refuse to turn around and face them, but you proclaim with all your might: "I order you as Empress Variel - If I find any harm done to humans camping near these woods, I will completely eradicate your clan without warning!". Your words hang on the air like a blade, and Athos responds with unwavering loyalty: "Your command shall be obeyed, Empress Variel". With that you stalk away from the pack, letting your nose pick up a scent of a nearby deer. "Is the little mouse changing me?" you ask yourself. "Am I getting soft? The smell of the deer wafted through the air and you followed quickly, sneaking closer with every careful step. Finally, you reached the riverbank, where the unsuspecting deer lapped up the cool water. You bared your teeth in anticipation as you prepared to strike, and then you leapt into action, a blur of fur and claws. Startled, the poor thing tried to flee, but before it could take more than a few steps you had already gained on it. "Oh no! Oh no!" its cries echoed around you as you closed in for the kill. Using all your strength and speed, you managed to corner the deer against the rocks. Its breath came in short gasps as terror filled its eyes; "Please, I beg of you," it pleaded, "I have a family!". With one final burst of energy it attempted to leap away - only to be stopped by an invisible wall of thorns that suddenly rose up out of the ground thanks to your magic. Trapped without escape, it collapsed onto its knees in defeat. The deer's eyes widen in terror as you utter the dreaded words: "Have a family you say? Tell you what, why don't we make a trade?" You paw at the ground menacingly as the deer begins to tremble in fear. "Yes, my family! Take them in exchange for my life!" the deer replies desperately. You laugh maniacally, the sound echoing through the forest like thunder. "A worthless Father such as yourself doesn't deserve to live!", you bellow. You stalk closer to the deer, and it tries to back away but thorns tear into their skin and blood drips onto the ground. "We had a deal! You said if I gave up my family that you'd let me go!" The deer cries out in vain. "Oh my prey," you snarl with contempt, "I never said I would set you free - all I said was that there will be a trade!" you pounce and with one sharp bite, the deer fight fades away helplessly. Its final moments of life lost to your merciless might. Your appetite unleashed, you hungrily rip into the dear, its blood staining your lips and tongue. The sweet elixir rushes through your veins, rejuvenating both body and soul. With a wave of your hand, you cast aside the walls of thorns before you. "And the last course, dessert," you snarl, and march forth to meet your prey head-on. ''(MC's POV)'' <<set $strength = 10>> <<set $endurance = 10>> <<set $finesse = 10>> <<set $wisdom = 10>> <<set $charm = 10>> <<set $guile = 10>> <<set $agility = 10>> <<if $weapon == "sword" >> <<set $guile = 15>> <<set $wisdom = 15>> You tightly grasped the grip of the sword, marveling at its perfect balance. You unleashed your strength and fury, swinging the shining blade in sharp arcs as it mercilessly sliced through the air with a powerful hiss. Each movement was precise, graceful and showed effortless control. Lee watched you with an intense gaze, his face radiating admiration. He stepped towards you and slowly planted one foot on the butt of the spear handle. His muscles bristled as he pushed himself away from the ground and into a soaring leap. The spear twirled around him majestically as if flying through the air of its own accord before Lee smoothly caught it with a single outstretched hand. You were entranced by his display of skill and agility, and complimented him with a chuckle. "Showoff!" you teased light-heartedly, respect oozing from your words at his mastery of weapons. Lee simply grinned widely, his eyes gleaming mischievously. ""Well, how else am I supposed to show you some tricks if I don't show you my techniques?" he winked cheekily, barely masking his pride. Lee twirled the spear in his hand, making it twirl with a low hum before stopping abruptly and firmly planting its butt end against the dusty ground. "Listen to me <<print $player_name>>, one of the weaknesses of the sword is if your enemy has reach advantage than you!" he raised a finger, emphasizing his point. "Second, a sword sometimes lacks the killing power when your foe is wearing armor from head to toe." His voice became more animated as he moved around and spoke. "Lastly, you will need to be on the move and need to shift stance mid-fight so that you can adapt to the flow of battle." Lee warns. He plucked the spear and held it aloft in front of him, pointing its tip towards you menacingly. Then he stretched forward, extending himself into an aggressive posture — his feet planted firmly against the ground as he crouched down slightly. "Now I want you to do the same with your sword," he commanded. You followed suit and extended your sword side by side with the spear, projecting your power forward into a threatening display. "As you can see <<print $player_name>>", Lee hissed through gritted teeth, "before you can get close or even hit me" — with a swift motion he thrust forward his spear, narrowly missing your face — "I already attacked yours or even killed you". Lee slowly lowered his spear and spoke in a solemn tone, "What make the sword unique is its adaptability. Swordfights can be won with more than just the blade, you must also learn to use other tools such as a bucksler, dagger or even a secondary sword. Not to mention your enemies will often believe that they have an advantage in combat due to their own egos, giving you the upper hand during battle." Lee slowly moved into an en garde stance, rotating his neck and loosening up for the demonstration. Lee raised the spear in his hands and plunged it firmly into the ground, making a twack sound as it struck. You reluctantly handed your weapon to Lee, feeling an uneasy worry that you may never regain possession of it. "Now, balance is key with this weapon," Lee said, planting his feet shoulder- width apart and hunkering down. "Grip the handle with just the right amount of force - neither too tight nor too lax." He slowly tightened his grip on the weapon before continuing. "Every part of this sword is a potential weapon; if need be, don't hesitate to use the handle for skull-bashing against your foes." A maniacal grin spread across his face as he uttered these words. "Raise your blade level with your arms," Lee continued as his eyes narrowed. "Focus all your energy on your opponent." Lee's voice bellowed through the air. "When facing off against your enemy, you need to consider what kind of weapon they're utilizing. Don't just recklessly charge in head-on. If they have an axe, try attacking them from the sides since it is a heavy and slow weapon, but the size of the axe needs to be taken into account as well. Now, get close - don't give them any room to maneuver!" The tension in the air thickened as Lee stepped forward. His words reverberated throughout the area. "Be cautious! Even if they can't utilize their axe, they can use their hands and feet to hurt you." Demonstrating his point, Lee dodged swiftly to his left, making it seem like there was a huge man swinging an axe right in front of them. "Try tiring out your enemy," he said as he made low slashing motions with his weapon - probably meant to simulate attacking their legs to reduce their mobility. "Evade and attack whenever you see an opening," he continued as he weaved around his imaginary foe, cutting through the air with every movement. "But what if you're fighting an armored enemy, well this can be a little tricky, sharp-bladed weapons is hopeless against them, so if you can find some blunt weapons such as an mace or hammer then use it but if not then try to aim for the weak spots of the armor namely on the armpits, backs of the knees, palms of the hands, and the visor that covers the face basically if there is any hole you can see, then just thrust your weapon in there." Lee took a different stance and instead of dodging he started to circle around his imaginary foe. "Since your foe is armored, they tend to be reckless because they thought they are protected in their amor but the downside of being encased in metal is that your vison is limited and your movements will be very limited and especialy if the terrain is muddy and uneven." Lee attack the air but this time precise and in one location only. Lee, his chest heaving with exhaustion, stood tall and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He then graced you with a determined nod - "Now it's your turn." He pivoted on the balls of his feet to face you and held the tip of the sword aloft, offering you the handle. With a surge of anticipation, your hand fumbled as it reached out and grasped it firmly. Lee glided back to where his long spear sat, its shaft lightly grazing the dirt. He grasped it firmly with both hands and raised it above his head. "Let's see if you can apply the techniques I taught you in a sparring match," he declared as he spun the weapon around and brought the blade down to rest onto the earth, holding it close to his back. You stepped forth, mirroring Lee’s stance. Your feet spread wide apart, your eyes intense and focused. You tightened your grip on your sword, raise it forward and readied yourself for battle while Lee held his weapon aloft, silently gauging your readiness. The match began with a thunderous roar. You lunged forward, instinctually throwing out a wide slash towards Lee's chest. But instead of attacking, you pulled back your weapon and skidded to the side as you felt the wind of his spear brush against your cheek. You quickly spun around, preparing to meet his next blow. But then, something unexpected happened. Lee had lowered his spear and was now descending into a low stance, beckoning you forward as if inviting your attacks. Taking advantage of this opportunity, you dashed forward and thrust your sword at him, aiming for the spot between his shoulder blades. At the same time, he readied himself to dodge your attack while simultaneously sweeping his spear around in an arc towards your leg in an attempt to trip you up or knock away your sword. You leapt valiantly over his sweep, just barely missing it with a few inches and landed on the other side of him with a thunderous thud! Your momentum sent you into a spin, allowing you to slash your weapon in the air wildly. But Lee was nowhere to be found. "Below you." Lee's voice calmly called out from below. You felt his leg sweep under yours just in time, flipping you onto your back. With one hand planted firmly on the ground and his leg still extended. "The spear is not my only weapon you know!" He raised one hand to emphasize his point, tapping his leg confidently for emphasis. His eyes glowed as he radiated confidence and determination. "The only way to win this match is to use your wits and skill! Be creative! Push yourself to your physical limits. Think of ways to penetrate an enemy's defenses!" He shouted and sitted down on the ground with a sigh.. "Nah! What you did was a low blow!" you jeered at Lee. "A low blow?" Lee cackled with laughter. "What a lame way of saying that I kicked your butt!" His sneers rained down on you like icy hail. "But still, I have got to give credit where it is due." He inclines his head in respect. "I must admire your footwork and body movement, you really kept me on my toes." "Buttttt!" he raised a finger, pointing at you. "Remember next time, you had good initiative <<print $player_name>> but bad judgement." His voice thundered through the air, reprimanding you. Lee rose and stretched his arms, flicking away the dirt on his clothes. He glanced at you with a smirk before extending a hand to help you up. "Come on now," he grinned mischievously, "We woudn't want to freeze your ass on the ground!" he chuckles. You reached out and Lee hoisted you up to your feet. "Looks like the little mouse has been busy while I was gone!" you hear Variel's mocking laughter echoing through the air, sending chills down your spine. Your heart races in fear and joy as you look up to see her perched on top of a log, taking huge bites from an apple. Her white dress is now drenched with blood-red, just like her eyes. "New look?" Lee takes a step back, his chuckle fading away as he takes in the dress Variel is wearing. It seemed to pulse and ooze like a blood-red river and Lee could almost hear the screams of its victims echoing through the fabric. Variel takes a bite of the apple and licks her lips, her eyes gleaming maliciously. She lets out a sinister laugh that sends chills down your spine. "Why yes! I always keep trophies of my kills afterall!" Variel growls hungrily, burning the remains of the apple in her hand. "Should we worry?" you ask slowly, your voice quivering as you dread the answer from the powerful dragon before you. "There's no need" Variel replies calmly, her gaze flicking to the apple left burning in her hand "Afterall this is just deer blood." But then she smiles, one that can only be described as unnerving and unsettling. "The more important question is what else I'm capable of...." Variel's voice lingers in the air, her eyes flashing with malevolence. "Do you want a demonstration, little mouse?" The darkness around you intensifies and a chill wind blows through the forest. Your heart is pounding so hard it almost hurts and fear grips your body as Variel takes a step closer to you. Lee steps forward to protect you but her gaze stops him in his tracks, her power emanating from her like an ominous aura. You knew better than to doubt the power of a dragon like Variel; if she wanted something, she would get it no matter what stood in her way. ''//You know because you wrote her that way.//'' Your breath catches in your throat as Variel reaches out towards you, her hand lingering just above your shoulder before retracting it again only inches away from touching you. You can feel the heat emanating from her fingertips, waiting to be unleashed and engulf you. Variel grins as she looms over you, her eyes fierce and cold. "So how about a spar little mouse? Something to wash down my dinner!" she jeers, hungering for a fight. Lee chimes in from the corner, his voice razor sharp. "Your choice <<print $player_name>>, spar or not its up to you." ''//(Note: Rejecting the offer of Variel will have no consequences and accepting it will not add any point to your stats, think of it just additional fluff and flavor ;)//'' [[Agree to spar]] [[Protest to spar]] <<elseif $weapon is "spear" >> <<set $finesse = 15>> <<set $agility = 15>> You clenched the spear's handle tightly in your palm, feeling its rough wooden shaft graze against your skin. "Look at all the cool things you can do with that thing," Lee chuckled as he slid his hands into the handles of his scythe. "The spear has an incredible reach, but don't forget that it can be a major weakness too," he said pointedly. "A lot of times your enemies will try and overpower you by rushing right at you, so it's important to keep your distance and take them down from afar." In a single swift motion, Lee whipped around with the scythe sending a gust of air towards you. "If they see me armed with this baby and how skilled I am with it, they're going to pause for a few seconds to think about their next move," he instructed. "But don't count on those extra moments because even if your opponents are afraid or hesitant at first, they might still dare to rush in again." Lee nodded sternly as if confirming what he'd just said. You nodded in understanding, letting the teachings sink in. "Let's see how well you can put this into practice," Lee said as he stepped back and readied his weapon. You raised the spear in front of you, both hands gripping its shaft tightly. You heard Lee give the signal and before you could think your body had already reacted with swift movements of your arms and legs, blocking each attack that came at you while attempting to thrust your spear forward only when it was safe enough to do so. Every move had a purpose: one moment you took a step back to gain distance; then immediately followed it up with a lunge forward in order to catch your opponent off guard. The clash of weapons echoed throughout the air as sparks flew between them from each impact. Your heart raced but still managed to stay focused on the task at hand; dodging Lee's heavy swings and counterattacking whenever there was an opening for it. The battle seemed endless until finally after a flurry of spark and blade. Lee twirled the syche between his fingers, his body turning and rotating in sync with it. The metal of the scythe glinted with every movement under the scorching sun. You rushed towards him, but suddenly you stopped mid-way, the fear of being sliced by the blade making your heart race faster than a wild horse. Lee swept the handle of the sychte low and sweeping your leg under you in one smooth motion, throwing you to the ground. "Looks like you need some more practice before you can beat me <<print $player_name>>!" Lee chuckled as he rested the hammer head of the syche on his shoulder. "You cheated!" You laughed as pain filled your body, preventing you from standing up. "How am I suppose to bypass your defence when you keep spinning that thing in your hands." You sat there, defeated. "That's a secret <<print $player_name>> and a secret that you will learn if I deem you worthy enough." Lee laid down the scythe on the ground and plopped down beside you. "But here's a advice for free." Lee winks at you. "It's all about precision and timing, everything you do must be done with care and thought in mind. If you want to stand any chance against me or the odds of life, that is what you need to practice. What I just showed you was the rudimentary basics of combat, now it's up to you to take it further." You looked at Lee in awe, a feeling of understanding slowly dawning on you. You wanted nothing more than to continue training with him until the day your skills matched his own. You vowed to yourself that one day you would beat him and master every secret he had yet to tell. Lee rose and stretched his arms, flicking away the dirt on his clothes. He glanced at you with a smirk before extending a hand to help you up. "Come on now," he grinned mischievously, "We woudn't want to freeze your ass on the ground!" he chuckles. You reached out and Lee hoisted you up to your feet. "Looks like the little mouse has been busy while I was gone!" you hear Variel's mocking laughter echoing through the air, sending chills down your spine. Your heart races in fear and joy as you look up to see her perched on top of a log, taking huge bites from an apple. Her white dress is now drenched with blood-red, just like her eyes. "New look?" Lee takes a step back, his chuckle fading away as he takes in the dress Variel is wearing. It seemed to pulse and ooze like a blood-red river and Lee could almost hear the screams of its victims echoing through the fabric. Variel takes a bite of the apple and licks her lips, her eyes gleaming maliciously. She lets out a sinister laugh that sends chills down your spine. "Why yes! I always keep trophies of my kills afterall!" Variel growls hungrily, burning the remains of the apple in her hand. "Should we worry?" you ask slowly, your voice quivering as you dread the answer from the powerful dragon before you. "There's no need" Variel replies calmly, her gaze flicking to the apple left burning in her hand "Afterall this is just deer blood." But then she smiles, one that can only be described as unnerving and unsettling. "The more important question is what else I'm capable of...." Variel's voice lingers in the air, her eyes flashing with malevolence. "Do you want a demonstration, little mouse?" The darkness around you intensifies and a chill wind blows through the forest. Your heart is pounding so hard it almost hurts and fear grips your body as Variel takes a step closer to you. Lee steps forward to protect you but her gaze stops him in his tracks, her power emanating from her like an ominous aura. You knew better than to doubt the power of a dragon like Variel; if she wanted something, she would get it no matter what stood in her way. ''//You know because you wrote her that way.//'' Your breath catches in your throat as Variel reaches out towards you, her hand lingering just above your shoulder before retracting it again only inches away from touching you. You can feel the heat emanating from her fingertips, waiting to be unleashed and engulf you. Variel grins as she looms over you, her eyes fierce and cold. "So how about a spar little mouse? Something to wash down my dinner!" she jeers, hungering for a fight. Lee chimes in from the corner, his voice razor sharp. "Your choice <<print $player_name>>, spar or not its up to you." ''//(Note: Rejecting the offer of Variel will have no consequences and accepting it will not add any point to your stats, think of it just additional fluff and flavor ;)//'' [[Agree to spar]] [[Protest to spar]] <<elseif $weapon is "scythe" >> <<set $strenght = 15>> <<set $endurance = 15>> You tightened your grip around the handle of the scythe, feeling its weight in your hands as you began to swing it, slicing through the air with a swoosh. "Woah there! Be careful when you swing that thing," Lee chuckled. "First thing's first, the scythe hammer is a deadly weapon against your enemies, but it can be just as deadly to your friends too – you need to always be aware and observant of your surrounding environment. Second, you must build up momentum while swinging it – any failure to do so could cost you dearly. With this in mind, Lee grabbed his own sword from the stumps and quickly thrust forward – showing off quick and precise strikes. "Thirdly, you need space and room to wield and use it properly." He pointed towards your scythe with his sword. "Plus," he added, "you need good upper body strength and stamina if you want to use it for extended periods of time; failing that, the enemy might not kill you but battle fatigue will." Lee then faced you and settled into a battle stance, spreading his feet apart. "Now I want you to swing it and try to hit me – don't be shy!" he grinned widely at you. At first, you looked at him hesitantly, but seeing as he smiled confidently at you, thinking he knows these things better than you, made you decide to spin your body around. Yet again before you could even move an inch forward, Lee had already closed up his distance between the two of you and raised his sword in order to blunt the tip of your scythe's blade – halting all of your movements. "Lastly: never let your enemies get close to you; otherwise something like this might happen." He chuckled again before standing back and giving you some space. "Alright now – give it another try!" he shouted at you loudly. Rather than turning around once more, this time you decided to lift the scythe over your shoulder before charging forward – yet again Lee rushed ahead of you and blocked your path by bringing his sword right above the handle of the scythe, thus restricting all of your movements. "Yikes, you will be dog food by now." Lee says disappointed. Irritation bubbles within you." Fine why don't you show it to me then?" you snap at him. Lee chuckled and slammed the sword onto a nearby tree stump. "Give it to me and let me show you how a pro does it." He boasted, seeming all too eager to prove his superiority. You reluctantly handed him the scythe, rolling your eyes in disbelief of his confidence. "Watch and learn," he said as he grasped it with ease. "Try getting close to me," Lee challenged as he beckoned you forward with an inviting gesture. You accepted, bracing yourself for whatever was to come. As soon as you got within reach, Lee met you halfway and using the body handle of the scythe, pushed you back forcefully, making you fall on your seat. "The blade isn't your only weapon MC," he declared with an arrogant smirk. "You can use the bulk of the body of the scythe however you see fit." With lightning speed, Lee adjusted his grip on the scythe before thrusting it at your face, his right hand near its head as he held its blade inches from your face. "You can also change the grip of the scythe," he continued with a grin. Lee confidently grabbed the sturdy handle of the scythe, a formidable weapon with a long curved blade. Holding it low, he raised the blade in an upwards angle to demonstrate his point. "Start low," he emphasized. "This is where your opponent least expects you to attack from, and having the blade facing up gives them a false sense of security. Then switch up the angle like so." He demonstrated by sharply adjusting the angle of the scythe until it was pointing sideways. "You can hook their feet and sweep them off balance, leaving you with the upper hand for finishing them off." He adjusted the blade yet again, this time making sure to show off its sharp edges and serrated design. "Be mindful of the edge of the weapon too - I've sharpened both sides of the blade to a point and made sure to create serrated teeth so any attempt to catch this baby with bare hands will be incredibly painful." With a wink and an encouraging gesture, they offered you their hand. You grasped Lee's proffered hand, feeling the strength and sinewy power beneath his calloused palm. He hoisted you to your feet with a single effortless gesture. "Now how about a spar?" Lee dropped his grip from yours and strode towards where his sword was still embedded in the wood. He carefully withdrew it with a loud clank, turning back to you with an intimidating glint in his eye. "Sure!" You checked the weight of the scythe in your hands, adjusting your grip as Lee had demonstrated earlier. The weapon felt comfortable in your hands - a natural extension of yourself. "That's good, applying what you learned." Lee praised you before rotating his sword arm and stretching out his legs in preparation for battle. "But the real question here is...can you apply it in battle?" His eyes seemed to drill into you as he hunkered down and settled into an aggressive stance. You inhaled, preparing for battle. You thrust the scythe forward, the blade pointed towards Lee as you deftly stepped forward in an attempt to catch him off guard. He blocked your assault swiftly, his sword clanking against the flat of your weapon. His expression remained determined and focused as he parried each attack with great finesse. Lee readjusted his stance and quickly blocked another one of your downward swings. You tried to regain balance as he delivered a fierce horizontal slice, forcing you back several steps before you could recover. His every move seemed so calculated and precise, but you refused to back down and continued to defend yourself with all your strength. The clash of steel became louder and more intense as both combatants began to exchange powerful blows back and forth. The weapon felt like it was a part of you now - guiding your movements through the thicket of blades as they arched towards their target with deadly accuracy. Your heart pounded in your chest, feeling alive and excited at the thrill of combat. You lunged forward with your scythe held high, the hammerhead swinging fast towards Lee. He sidestepped just in time, and as you passed he jumped onto the head of the blade, using it to propel himself into the air. As if standing on the edge of a cliff, he reached his arm out and unleashed a mighty slap across your face, sending searing pain through your cheek. You recoiled back and shouted in anger at him. "That hurt!" Lee chuckled, his voice deep and reverberating throughout the night. "Trust me, a slap is better than a punch. You need to change up your fighting style too," he continued matter-of-factly. "You're becoming predictable." He chuckled and continued, "You should learn to adapt to different fighting styles and develop new slashing attacks when you're in battle. Because I'm not some grass ready to be reaped by your scythe!" Sitting down with a grimace of pain, you felt drained and exhausted but organised yourself enough to respond, apologetically: "Sorry..." Lee softened his tone, still slightly scolding you but admiring all the same. "It's alright, you're getting really good with that." He gestured towards the fallen weapon. Lee rose and stretched his arms, flicking away the dirt on his clothes. He glanced at you with a smirk before extending a hand to help you up. "Come on now," he grinned mischievously, "We woudn't want to freeze your ass on the ground!" he chuckles. You reached out and Lee hoisted you up to your feet. "Looks like the little mouse has been busy while I was gone!" you hear Variel's mocking laughter echoing through the air, sending chills down your spine. Your heart races in fear and joy as you look up to see her perched on top of a log, taking huge bites from an apple. Her white dress is now drenched with blood-red, just like her eyes. "New look?" Lee takes a step back, his chuckle fading away as he takes in the dress Variel is wearing. It seemed to pulse and ooze like a blood-red river and Lee could almost hear the screams of its victims echoing through the fabric. Variel takes a bite of the apple and licks her lips, her eyes gleaming maliciously. She lets out a sinister laugh that sends chills down your spine. "Why yes! I always keep trophies of my kills afterall!" Variel growls hungrily, burning the remains of the apple in her hand. "Should we worry?" you ask slowly, your voice quivering as you dread the answer from the powerful dragon before you. "There's no need" Variel replies calmly, her gaze flicking to the apple left burning in her hand "Afterall this is just deer blood." But then she smiles, one that can only be described as unnerving and unsettling. "The more important question is what else I'm capable of...." Variel's voice lingers in the air, her eyes flashing with malevolence. "Do you want a demonstration, little mouse?" The darkness around you intensifies and a chill wind blows through the forest. Your heart is pounding so hard it almost hurts and fear grips your body as Variel takes a step closer to you. Lee steps forward to protect you but her gaze stops him in his tracks, her power emanating from her like an ominous aura. You knew better than to doubt the power of a dragon like Variel; if she wanted something, she would get it no matter what stood in her way. ''//You know because you wrote her that way.//'' Your breath catches in your throat as Variel reaches out towards you, her hand lingering just above your shoulder before retracting it again only inches away from touching you. You can feel the heat emanating from her fingertips, waiting to be unleashed and engulf you. Variel grins as she looms over you, her eyes fierce and cold. "So how about a spar little mouse? Something to wash down my dinner!" she jeers, hungering for a fight. Lee chimes in from the corner, his voice razor sharp. "Your choice <<print $player_name>>, spar or not its up to you." ''//(Note: Rejecting the offer of Variel will have no consequences and accepting it will not add any point to your stats, think of it just additional fluff and flavor ;)//'' [[Agree to spar]] [[Protest to spar]] <</if>>

<<set $strength = 10>> <<set $endurance = 10>> <<set $finesse = 10>> <<set $wisdom = 10>> <<set $charm = 10>> <<set $guile = 10>> <<set $agility = 10>> <<if $weapon == "sword" >> <<set $guile = 15>> <<set $wisdom = 15>> You tightly grasped the grip of the sword, marveling at its perfect balance. You unleashed your strength and fury, swinging the shining blade in sharp arcs as it mercilessly sliced through the air with a powerful hiss. Each movement was precise, graceful and showed effortless control. Lee watched you with an intense gaze, his face radiating admiration. He stepped towards you and slowly planted one foot on the butt of the spear handle. His muscles bristled as he pushed himself away from the ground and into a soaring leap. The spear twirled around him majestically as if flying through the air of its own accord before Lee smoothly caught it with a single outstretched hand. You were entranced by his display of skill and agility, and complimented him with a chuckle. "Showoff!" you teased light-heartedly, respect oozing from your words at his mastery of weapons. Lee simply grinned widely, his eyes gleaming mischievously. ""Well, how else am I supposed to show you some tricks if I don't show you my techniques?" he winked cheekily, barely masking his pride. Lee twirled the spear in his hand, making it twirl with a low hum before stopping abruptly and firmly planting its butt end against the dusty ground. "Listen to me <<print $player_name>>, one of the weaknesses of the sword is if your enemy has reach advantage than you!" he raised a finger, emphasizing his point. "Second, a sword sometimes lacks the killing power when your foe is wearing armor from head to toe." His voice became more animated as he moved around and spoke. "Lastly, you will need to be on the move and need to shift stance mid-fight so that you can adapt to the flow of battle." Lee warns. He plucked the spear and held it aloft in front of him, pointing its tip towards you menacingly. Then he stretched forward, extending himself into an aggressive posture — his feet planted firmly against the ground as he crouched down slightly. "Now I want you to do the same with your sword," he commanded. You followed suit and extended your sword side by side with the spear, projecting your power forward into a threatening display. "As you can see <<print $player_name>>", Lee hissed through gritted teeth, "before you can get close or even hit me" — with a swift motion he thrust forward his spear, narrowly missing your face — "I already attacked yours or even killed you". Lee slowly lowered his spear and spoke in a solemn tone. "What make the sword unique is its adaptability. Swordfights can be won with more than just the blade, you must also learn to use other tools such as a bucksler, dagger or even a secondary sword. Not to mention your enemies will often believe that they have an advantage in combat due to their own egos, giving you the upper hand during battle." Lee slowly moved into an en garde stance, rotating his neck and loosening up for the demonstration. Lee raised the spear in his hands and plunged it firmly into the ground, making a twack sound as it struck. You reluctantly handed your weapon to Lee, feeling an uneasy worry that you may never regain possession of it. "Now, balance is key with this weapon," Lee said, planting his feet shoulder- width apart and hunkering down. "Grip the handle with just the right amount of force - neither too tight nor too lax." He slowly tightened his grip on the weapon before continuing. "Every part of this sword is a potential weapon; if need be, don't hesitate to use the handle for skull-bashing against your foes." A maniacal grin spread across his face as he uttered these words. "Raise your blade level with your arms," Lee continued as his eyes narrowed. "Focus all your energy on your opponent." Lee's voice bellowed through the air. "When facing off against your enemy, you need to consider what kind of weapon they're utilizing. Don't just recklessly charge in head-on. If they have an axe, try attacking them from the sides since it is a heavy and slow weapon, but the size of the axe needs to be taken into account as well. Now, get close - don't give them any room to maneuver!" The tension in the air thickened as Lee stepped forward. His words reverberated throughout the area. "Be cautious! Even if they can't utilize their axe, they can use their hands and feet to hurt you." Demonstrating his point, Lee dodged swiftly to his left, making it seem like there was a huge man swinging an axe right in front of them. "Try tiring out your enemy," he said as he made low slashing motions with his weapon - probably meant to simulate attacking their legs to reduce their mobility. "Evade and attack whenever you see an opening," he continued as he weaved around his imaginary foe, cutting through the air with every movement. "But what if you're fighting an armored enemy, well this can be a little tricky, sharp-bladed weapons is hopeless against them, so if you can find some blunt weapons such as an mace or hammer then use it but if not then try to aim for the weak spots of the armor namely on the armpits, backs of the knees, palms of the hands, and the visor that covers the face basically if there is any hole you can see, then just thrust your weapon in there." Lee took a different stance and instead of dodging he started to circle around his imaginary foe. "Since your foe is armored, they tend to be reckless because they thought they are protected in their amor but the downside of being encased in metal is that your vison is limited and your movements will be very limited and especialy if the terrain is muddy and uneven." Lee attack the air but this time precise and in one location only. Lee, his chest heaving with exhaustion, stood tall and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He then graced you with a determined nod - "Now it's your turn." He pivoted on the balls of his feet to face you and held the tip of the sword aloft, offering you the handle. With a surge of anticipation, your hand fumbled as it reached out and grasped it firmly. Lee glided back to where his long spear sat, its shaft lightly grazing the dirt. He grasped it firmly with both hands and raised it above his head. "Let's see if you can apply the techniques I taught you in a sparring match," he declared as he spun the weapon around and brought the blade down to rest onto the earth, holding it close to his back. You stepped forth, mirroring Lee’s stance. Your feet spread wide apart, your eyes intense and focused. You tightened your grip on your sword, raise it forward and readied yourself for battle while Lee held his weapon aloft, silently gauging your readiness. The match began with a thunderous roar. You lunged forward, instinctually throwing out a wide slash towards Lee's chest. But instead of attacking, you pulled back your weapon and skidded to the side as you felt the wind of his spear brush against your cheek. You quickly spun around, preparing to meet his next blow. But then, something unexpected happened. Lee had lowered his spear and was now descending into a low stance, beckoning you forward as if inviting your attacks. Taking advantage of this opportunity, you dashed forward and thrust your sword at him, aiming for the spot between his shoulder blades. At the same time, he readied himself to dodge your attack while simultaneously sweeping his spear around in an arc towards your leg in an attempt to trip you up or knock away your sword. You leapt valiantly over his sweep, just barely missing it with a few inches and landed on the other side of him with a thunderous thud! Your momentum sent you into a spin, allowing you to slash your weapon in the air wildly. But Lee was nowhere to be found. "Below you." Lee's voice calmly called out from below. You felt his leg sweep under yours just in time, flipping you onto your back. With one hand planted firmly on the ground and his leg still extended. "The spear is not my only weapon you know!" He raised one hand to emphasize his point, tapping his leg confidently for emphasis. His eyes glowed as he radiated confidence and determination. "The only way to win this match is to use your wits and skill! Be creative! Push yourself to your physical limits. Think of ways to penetrate an enemy's defenses!" He shouted and sitted down on the ground with a sigh.. "Nah! What you did was a low blow!" you jeered at Lee. "A low blow?" Lee cackled with laughter. "What a lame way of saying that I kicked your butt!" His sneers rained down on you like icy hail. "But still, I have got to give credit where it is due." He inclines his head in respect. "I must admire your footwork and body movement, you really kept me on my toes." "Buttttt!" he raised a finger, pointing at you. "Remember next time, you had good initiative <<print $player_name>> but bad judgement." His voice thundered through the air, reprimanding you. "Thanks." you say through gritted teeth, feeling the exhaustion down to your bones. "Someone's tired," Lee chuckles before coming to your side and offering his hand. You hesitate for a moment before reluctantly taking it, allowing him to haul you up on your feet. "Get back to camp and get some rest.", Lee orders in a no-nonsense tone, but not unkindly. "What about you?" you ask, feeling a strange pang of concern. His gaze shifted up towards the night sky above and his face softened ever so slightly. "I'm gonna stay here for a while, enjoy the scenery." he replies, pointing upwards and you can't help but be taken aback by how tranquil and peaceful the view is. You stay quiet for a beat and then nod slowly in understanding. "Alright, good night then." you say softly before turning away from him. "Good night." You hear Lee's voice ring out behind you as you walk away. The air is cold and biting, the atmosphere oppressive and alive with the incessant chirping of crickets. "So how did it go <<print $player_name>>?" you hear a voice that turns out to be Garett. You spin around and see him sitting near a roaring campfire, an eager grin stretching across his face. "It went good!" you reply. "I hope Lee wasn't too harsh on you" Garett queries. "Harsh enough," you reply with a sigh. "Just want to apologize in advance for his brashness" Garett offers sincerely. You give him a half-hearted nod, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. "You must be tired, make yourself at home in my tent." Garett gestures behind him and lo and behold there stands a tent close by. "What about you?" You ask, grateful yet concerned for his well being. "I'm fine," He replies calmly as he moves closer to the flames, holding out his hands as if to embrace them. "Are you sure?" You press on, unable to contain your worry. "Very sure" Garett insists without turning back to look at you. You give in reluctantly, bidding him farewell before making your way towards the tent entrance. "Thanks by the way," you say over your shoulder in gratitude. "No worries," He responds quietly before adding gratefully: "And thanks for aiding us in tracking down Variel." "Also leave your weapon behind." Garett chuckles. "Oh right!" you put down your weapon down on the ground. You push aside the tent flaps and enter what appears to be just enough space for two people; clothes are strewn all over the ground. You crawl onto them and close your eyes slowly, succumbing immediately to the blissful depths of sleep. [[Continue|Morning Bandit Prep 2]] <<elseif $weapon is "spear" >> <<set $finesse = 15>> <<set $agility = 15>> You clenched the spear's handle tightly in your palm, feeling its rough wooden shaft graze against your skin. "Look at all the cool things you can do with that thing," Lee chuckled as he slid his hands into the handles of his scythe. "The spear has an incredible reach, but don't forget that it can be a major weakness too," he said pointedly. "A lot of times your enemies will try and overpower you by rushing right at you, so it's important to keep your distance and take them down from afar." In a single swift motion, Lee whipped around with the scythe sending a gust of air towards you. "If they see me armed with this baby and how skilled I am with it, they're going to pause for a few seconds to think about their next move," he instructed. "But don't count on those extra moments because even if your opponents are afraid or hesitant at first, they might still dare to rush in again." Lee nodded sternly as if confirming what he'd just said. You nodded in understanding, letting the teachings sink in. "Let's see how well you can put this into practice," Lee said as he stepped back and readied his weapon. You raised the spear in front of you, both hands gripping its shaft tightly. You heard Lee give the signal and before you could think your body had already reacted with swift movements of your arms and legs, blocking each attack that came at you while attempting to thrust your spear forward only when it was safe enough to do so. Every move had a purpose: one moment you took a step back to gain distance; then immediately followed it up with a lunge forward in order to catch your opponent off guard. The clash of weapons echoed throughout the air as sparks flew between them from each impact. Your heart raced but still managed to stay focused on the task at hand; dodging Lee's heavy swings and counterattacking whenever there was an opening for it. The battle seemed endless until finally after a flurry of spark and blade. Lee twirled the syche between his fingers, his body turning and rotating in sync with it. The metal of the scythe glinted with every movement under the scorching sun. You rushed towards him, but suddenly you stopped mid-way, the fear of being sliced by the blade making your heart race faster than a wild horse. Lee swept the handle of the sychte low and sweeping your leg under you in one smooth motion, throwing you to the ground. "Looks like you need some more practice before you can beat me <<print $player_name>>!" Lee chuckled as he rested the hammer head of the syche on his shoulder. "You cheated!" You laughed as pain filled your body, preventing you from standing up. "How am I suppose to bypass your defence when you keep spinning that thing in your hands." You sat there, defeated. "That's a secret <<print $player_name>> and a secret that you will learn if I deem you worthy enough." Lee laid down the scythe on the ground and plopped down beside you. "But here's a advice for free." Lee winks at you. "It's all about precision and timing, everything you do must be done with care and thought in mind. If you want to stand any chance against me or the odds of life, that is what you need to practice. What I just showed you was the rudimentary basics of combat, now it's up to you to take it further." You looked at Lee in awe, a feeling of understanding slowly dawning on you. You wanted nothing more than to continue training with him until the day your skills matched his own. You vowed to yourself that one day you would beat him and master every secret he had yet to tell. "Thanks." you say through gritted teeth, feeling the exhaustion down to your bones. "Someone's tired," Lee chuckles before coming to your side and offering his hand. You hesitate for a moment before reluctantly taking it, allowing him to haul you up on your feet. "Get back to camp and get some rest.", Lee orders in a no-nonsense tone, but not unkindly. "What about you?" you ask, feeling a strange pang of concern. His gaze shifted up towards the night sky above and his face softened ever so slightly. "I'm gonna stay here for a while, enjoy the scenery." he replies, pointing upwards and you can't help but be taken aback by how tranquil and peaceful the view is. You stay quiet for a beat and then nod slowly in understanding. "Alright, good night then." you say softly before turning away from him. "Good night." You hear Lee's voice ring out behind you as you walk away. The air is cold and biting, the atmosphere oppressive and alive with the incessant chirping of crickets. "So how did it go MC?" you hear a voice that turns out to be Garett. You spin around and see him sitting near a roaring campfire, an eager grin stretching across his face. "It went good!" you reply. "I hope Lee wasn't too harsh on you" Garett queries. "Harsh enough," you reply with a sigh. "Just want to apologize in advance for his brashness" Garett offers sincerely. You give him a half-hearted nod, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. "You must be tired, make yourself at home in my tent." Garett gestures behind him and lo and behold there stands a tent close by. "What about you?" You ask, grateful yet concerned for his well being. "I'm fine," He replies calmly as he moves closer to the flames, holding out his hands as if to embrace them. "Are you sure?" You press on, unable to contain your worry. "Very sure" Garett insists without turning back to look at you. You give in reluctantly, bidding him farewell before making your way towards the tent entrance. "Thanks by the way," you say over your shoulder in gratitude. "No worries," He responds quietly before adding gratefully: "And thanks for aiding us in tracking down Variel." "Also leave your weapon behind." Garett chuckles. "Oh right!" you put down your weapon down on the ground. You push aside the tent flaps and enter what appears to be just enough space for two people; clothes are strewn all over the ground. You crawl onto them and close your eyes slowly, succumbing immediately to the blissful depths of sleep. [[Continue|Morning Bandit Prep 2]] <<elseif $weapon is "scythe" >> <<set $strength = 15>> <<set $endurance = 15>> You tightened your grip around the handle of the scythe, feeling its weight in your hands as you began to swing it, slicing through the air with a swoosh. "Woah there! Be careful when you swing that thing," Lee chuckled. "First thing's first, the scythe hammer is a deadly weapon against your enemies, but it can be just as deadly to your friends too – you need to always be aware and observant of your surrounding environment. Second, you must build up momentum while swinging it – any failure to do so could cost you dearly. With this in mind, Lee grabbed his own sword from the stumps and quickly thrust forward – showing off quick and precise strikes. "Thirdly, you need space and room to wield and use it properly." He pointed towards your scythe with his sword. "Plus," he added, "you need good upper body strength and stamina if you want to use it for extended periods of time; failing that, the enemy might not kill you but battle fatigue will." Lee then faced you and settled into a battle stance, spreading his feet apart. "Now I want you to swing it and try to hit me – don't be shy!" he grinned widely at you. At first, you looked at him hesitantly, but seeing as he smiled confidently at you, thinking he knows these things better than you, made you decide to spin your body around. Yet again before you could even move an inch forward, Lee had already closed up his distance between the two of you and raised his sword in order to blunt the tip of your scythe's blade – halting all of your movements. "Lastly: never let your enemies get close to you; otherwise something like this might happen." He chuckled again before standing back and giving you some space. "Alright now – give it another try!" he shouted at you loudly. Rather than turning around once more, this time you decided to lift the scythe over your shoulder before charging forward – yet again Lee rushed ahead of you and blocked your path by bringing his sword right above the handle of the scythe, thus restricting all of your movements. "Yikes, you will be dog food by now." Lee says disappointed. Irritation bubbles within you." Fine why don't you show it to me then?" you snap at him. Lee chuckled and slammed the sword onto a nearby tree stump. "Give it to me and let me show you how a pro does it." He boasted, seeming all too eager to prove his superiority. You reluctantly handed him the scythe, rolling your eyes in disbelief of his confidence. "Watch and learn," he said as he grasped it with ease. "Try getting close to me," Lee challenged as he beckoned you forward with an inviting gesture. You accepted, bracing yourself for whatever was to come. As soon as you got within reach, Lee met you halfway and using the body handle of the scythe, pushed you back forcefully, making you fall on your seat. "The blade isn't your only weapon <<print $player_name>>," he declared with an arrogant smirk. "You can use the bulk of the body of the scythe however you see fit." With lightning speed, Lee adjusted his grip on the scythe before thrusting it at your face, his right hand near its head as he held its blade inches from your face. "You can also change the grip of the scythe," he continued with a grin. Lee confidently grabbed the sturdy handle of the scythe, a formidable weapon with a long curved blade. Holding it low, he raised the blade in an upwards angle to demonstrate his point. "Start low," he emphasized. "This is where your opponent least expects you to attack from, and having the blade facing up gives them a false sense of security. Then switch up the angle like so." He demonstrated by sharply adjusting the angle of the scythe until it was pointing sideways. "You can hook their feet and sweep them off balance, leaving you with the upper hand for finishing them off." He adjusted the blade yet again, this time making sure to show off its sharp edges and serrated design. "Be mindful of the edge of the weapon too - I've sharpened both sides of the blade to a point and made sure to create serrated teeth so any attempt to catch this baby with bare hands will be incredibly painful." With a wink and an encouraging gesture, they offered you their hand. You grasped Lee's proffered hand, feeling the strength and sinewy power beneath his calloused palm. He hoisted you to your feet with a single effortless gesture. "Now how about a spar?" Lee dropped his grip from yours and strode towards where his sword was still embedded in the wood. He carefully withdrew it with a loud clank, turning back to you with an intimidating glint in his eye. "Sure!" You checked the weight of the scythe in your hands, adjusting your grip as Lee had demonstrated earlier. The weapon felt comfortable in your hands - a natural extension of yourself. "That's good, applying what you learned." Lee praised you before rotating his sword arm and stretching out his legs in preparation for battle. "But the real question here is...can you apply it in battle?" His eyes seemed to drill into you as he hunkered down and settled into an aggressive stance. You inhaled, preparing for battle. You thrust the scythe forward, the blade pointed towards Lee as you deftly stepped forward in an attempt to catch him off guard. He blocked your assault swiftly, his sword clanking against the flat of your weapon. His expression remained determined and focused as he parried each attack with great finesse. Lee readjusted his stance and quickly blocked another one of your downward swings. You tried to regain balance as he delivered a fierce horizontal slice, forcing you back several steps before you could recover. His every move seemed so calculated and precise, but you refused to back down and continued to defend yourself with all your strength. The clash of steel became louder and more intense as both combatants began to exchange powerful blows back and forth. The weapon felt like it was a part of you now - guiding your movements through the thicket of blades as they arched towards their target with deadly accuracy. Your heart pounded in your chest, feeling alive and excited at the thrill of combat. You lunged forward with your scythe held high, the hammerhead swinging fast towards Lee. He sidestepped just in time, and as you passed he jumped onto the head of the blade, using it to propel himself into the air. As if standing on the edge of a cliff, he reached his arm out and unleashed a mighty slap across your face, sending searing pain through your cheek. You recoiled back and shouted in anger at him. "That hurt!" Lee chuckled, his voice deep and reverberating throughout the night. "Trust me, a slap is better than a punch. You need to change up your fighting style too," he continued matter-of-factly. "You're becoming predictable." He chuckled and continued, "You should learn to adapt to different fighting styles and develop new slashing attacks when you're in battle. Because I'm not some grass ready to be reaped by your scythe!" Sitting down with a grimace of pain, you felt drained and exhausted but organised yourself enough to respond, apologetically: "Sorry..." Lee softened his tone, still slightly scolding you but admiring all the same. "It's alright, you're getting really good with that." He gestured towards the fallen weapon. "Thanks." you say through gritted teeth, feeling the exhaustion down to your bones. "Someone's tired," Lee chuckles before coming to your side and offering his hand. You hesitate for a moment before reluctantly taking it, allowing him to haul you up on your feet. "Get back to camp and get some rest.", Lee orders in a no-nonsense tone, but not unkindly. "What about you?" you ask, feeling a strange pang of concern. His gaze shifted up towards the night sky above and his face softened ever so slightly. "I'm gonna stay here for a while, enjoy the scenery." he replies, pointing upwards and you can't help but be taken aback by how tranquil and peaceful the view is. You stay quiet for a beat and then nod slowly in understanding. "Alright, good night then." you say softly before turning away from him. "Good night." You hear Lee's voice ring out behind you as you walk away. The air is cold and biting, the atmosphere oppressive and alive with the incessant chirping of crickets. "So how did it go <<print $player_name>>?" you hear a voice that turns out to be Garett. You spin around and see him sitting near a roaring campfire, an eager grin stretching across his face. "It went good!" you reply. "I hope Lee wasn't too harsh on you" Garett queries. "Harsh enough," you reply with a sigh. "Just want to apologize in advance for his brashness" Garett offers sincerely. You give him a half-hearted nod, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. "You must be tired, make yourself at home in my tent." Garett gestures behind him and lo and behold there stands a tent close by. "What about you?" You ask, grateful yet concerned for his well being. "I'm fine," He replies calmly as he moves closer to the flames, holding out his hands as if to embrace them. "Are you sure?" You press on, unable to contain your worry. "Very sure" Garett insists without turning back to look at you. You give in reluctantly, bidding him farewell before making your way towards the tent entrance. "Thanks by the way," you say over your shoulder in gratitude. "No worries," He responds quietly before adding gratefully: "And thanks for aiding us in tracking down Variel." "Also leave your weapon behind." Garett chuckles. "Oh right!" you put down your weapon down on the ground. You push aside the tent flaps and enter what appears to be just enough space for two people; clothes are strewn all over the ground. You crawl onto them and close your eyes slowly, succumbing immediately to the blissful depths of sleep. [[Continue|Morning Bandit Prep 2]] <</if>>

Lee's horse trots forward, the sound of hooves beating against the ground filling the air. You look over at Garett, curious about the gesture he just made. "Um, what's that?" you ask, pointing at him. Garett turns to you with a grin on his face. "That, <<print $player_name>>, is what you call a gesture of love," he says, his tone mocking. "Love?" you ask, surprised. You had no idea that Garett and Lee were in a relationship. Garett nods his head. "Yep, we're courting." "Woah," you say, trying to process this new information. "Lee and I have been through thick and thin, <<print $player_name>>," Garett says fondly. "He even asked my father if he could be my personal manservant." Garett chuckles as he recounts the story of how Lee became his personal manservant. "At first my father was horrified by the notion of me having a servant. He didn't want me getting spoiled and lax, I mean he even trained me personally in the ways of combat!" Garett says. "But Lee! He was persistent on making my father change his mind, and he agreed!" Garett continues with a smile. "It's pretty awkward, actually, at the start. Lee started to be very mature and polite towards me, getting my clothes and food for me!" Garett says with a chuckle. You can't help but laugh at the image of the usually laid-back Lee being so proper and formal with Garett. "That must have been quite an adjustment for both of you," you say. "It was, but we managed to make it work," Garett replies, a fond smile on his face as he thinks back to those early days. Garett's expression turns more serious as he continues. "There are some who are against our relationship, namely my aunts and relatives. But my father is very supportive of me. He says that I should pursue my heart, because it's very common in our family to find and wed other noble families. That's what happened between my mother and father, but for me, I don't know about marrying another noble." "But enough about me and Lee!' Garett says. "I'm sure you have a questions of your own!" he offers. <<linkreplace "What its like to be a noble?">> You put your hand under your chin. "What its like to be a noble?" Garett's face lights up with a smile. "Ah, a good question!" he says. "Well, it's certainly different from what most people experience. There are a lot of expectations and responsibilities that come with being born into a noble family. We have to maintain a certain level of decorum and propriety at all times, and there's always pressure to excel in everything we do." He pauses for a moment, considering his words. "But at the same time, there are a lot of advantages too. We have access to the best education and resources, and we're able to travel and experience things that most people can only dream of. And of course, there's the prestige and status that come with being a noble." You nod, trying to take it all in. It's hard to imagine living such a different life from your own, with all the privileges and constraints that come with it. "Is it ever...lonely?" you venture, curious about the flip side of the noble lifestyle. Garett's smile fades a little. "Sometimes," he admits. "It can be hard to connect with people who don't understand our way of life, or who see us only as a title or a symbol of wealth. But I'm lucky to have people like Lee and my father, who truly care about me for who I am." "Not to mention there are people who are just after the wealth and influence of marrying a noble blood!" Garett adds. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Whats your Father like and can I meet him?">> In your conversations, Garett always mentions his father with such fondness that you can't help but wonder what kind of man he was. "What is your Father like and can I meet him?" you ask, trying not to sound too intrusive. Garett's eyes light up with a smile. "My father, Erick Pierce, was a great man. He always had a kind heart and would help anyone who needed it. He was also a just man who would make sure that those who deserved punishment received it. My parents were a happy couple, and their love for each other was a beautiful thing to witness." But Garett's expression turns somber. "Unfortunately, my father passed away some time ago," he says sorrowfully. You feel a lump form in your throat, realizing that you won't have the chance to meet this great man that Garett speaks of so highly. "I'm so sorry for your loss," you say, hoping to offer some comfort. "Thank you," Garett replies with a small smile. "I miss him every day, but I know he's watching over me and guiding me from wherever he is now." <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "If you're together with Lee then how about Lily?">> A question that seems to nag your mind is that Lee was courting Lily before, so what happened to them when Garett is the new partner of Lee. "I apologize for this question but I'm just curious!" you say gently. "If you're together with Lee then how about Lily!" you ask. "Another good question!" Garett praises you. "Ever since that day, Lee did not return to Lily afraid that those who knows him might hurt her as payback, so Lee wrote her a letter and telling that he will not come back and need to go far away. "garett says. "But, Lee's enemies already know about Lily!" you add. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness for Lily and Lee's past relationship. It seemed like a complicated situation, one that required careful handling. Garett's words brought you back to the present, and you listened intently as he continued. "That's right. After Lee wrote the letter, I made sure that Lily and Ariel were safe and secure. It wasn't easy, of course, as Lee's enemies were still on the lookout for them. But I have connections, and I was able to find a new place for them to live, far away from here." You nodded, impressed by Garett's resourcefulness and determination to keep those he cared about safe. It was clear that he was a loyal and devoted friend. "Lee and Lily's relationship was complicated, and it wasn't something that could be easily resolved," Garett continued. "But I know that Lee cared for her deeply, and I did what I could to help them both move on." You could sense the sadness in Garett's voice, and you wondered if he too had experienced heartbreak in his past. You decided not to pry, however, and instead, you focused on the present moment. "I'm sorry to hear about Lily and Lee," you said, offering your condolences. "But it's good to know that they're both safe now, thanks to you." Garett smiled, his eyes sparkling with gratitude. "Thank you," he said. "I just want to make sure that those I care about are happy and safe. And now, let's talk about something more cheerful, shall we?" <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Can you tell me about Lucas?">> Your mind blinked like a lightbulb at the idea, here by your side is the Father of your OC and this your chance to know about him. "Again, I apologize but can you tell me about your son, Lucas?" you ask Garett. Garett chuckles at your question. "Are you planning on courting him?" he teases. You feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment. "No, of course not," you stammer. "I was just curious. I've heard his name mentioned a few times and was interested in learning more about him." "I can say his very devout in his job, a little rude and a bit protective sometimes and also a very expert swordman like his father!' Garett brags and pointhing a thumb on his chest. You nod attentively, taking note of Garett's description of his son. "He sounds like quite the skilled warrior," you comment. "He is indeed," Garett says with a proud smile. "Lucas has always had a talent for combat, and he's put in a lot of hard work to become the expert swordsman he is today. He's also very loyal to his job and takes his responsibilities seriously." You can sense the affection and pride in Garett's voice as he talks about his son. It's clear that Lucas is someone he admires greatly. "It's impressive that he's following in your footsteps," you say, trying to keep the conversation going. "Yes, it warms my heart to see that," Garett says with a smile. "But he's also his own person, with his own strengths and weaknesses. I'm proud of him for carving out his own path in life." "Say that I want to court him!"you say slowly and Garett is grinning. "What do you think the key to his heart?" you ask Garett. "Haha!" Garett laughs. "That's a hard thing to answer but I sugesst try defeating him in combat!" he advices. You stare at Garett with disbelief. Combat? That seems like a strange way to get someone's attention, let alone their affection. "Combat as a first impression? That sounds intense," you say, trying to wrap your head around the idea. Garett nods his head, his eyes sparkling with admiration. "Lucas is the best swordsman in the land. He takes his profession very seriously and is always looking for someone who can match his skill and dedication." "I mean, there is one woman who bested him in battle!" Garett muses with a chuckle. "Really?" you say, surprised. You knew that you had trained Lucas to be a master of the sword, so for someone to defeat him, they must be truly exceptional. "Yes, and that woman is the Royal Princess!" Garett exclaims, his eyes wide with excitement. "No way!" you exclaim in disbelief. You had always thought of Clara as an introverted and reserved individual who preferred to keep to herself, that's the way you written her in your story. Garett nods before leaning in and whispering, "And the best part? She beat him using a rapier." Your eyes widen in amazement. A rapier was a difficult weapon to master, requiring skill and finesse to wield properly. "Tell me more," you urge, eager to learn about the epic battle between Clara and Lucas. Garett leans back in his saddle and begins to recount the tale. "It was at a tournament, and everyone was eager to see the match between Lucas and the princess. The crowd was on the edge of their seats as they watched the two face off." You close your eyes and imagine the scene, the air charged with excitement as the two warriors squared off. "The fight was intense, each blow met with a parry, each thrust met with a counterattack. It was a beautiful display of skill and athleticism, but in the end, the princess emerged victorious." "How did she do it?" you ask, leaning forward in anticipation. "It was her footwork," Garett explains. "She was quick and nimble, darting in and out of Lucas's reach, her rapier dancing in the air like a ballerina. She was able to land several well-placed strikes that eventually wore him down, and before he knew it, she had disarmed him." You can almost see the scene playing out in your mind, the sound of metal clashing against metal, the flash of blades in the air, the cheers of the crowd as the princess emerged victorious. "Wow," you say, feeling surprised for Clara's prowess. You ponder for a moment before asking, "Is there anything else I should know about Lucas, aside from defeating him?" Garett pauses to think before answering. "He may seem stoic and cold, but he has a good heart. He values honesty, loyalty, and honor above all else. Show him that you possess these qualities, and he may just open up to you," he explains. You're not sure if that's entirely true, but you can't deny the appeal of showing Lucas that you're not to be underestimated. Maybe you could even impress him with your own skills. "I'll keep that in mind," you say with a small smile, feeling a bit more confident now. "Good, good," Garett nods approvingly. "And who knows? Maybe you and Lucas will hit it off. He could use someone to soften him up a bit," he chuckles. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Can you tell me a bit about the Kingdom Of Tiara?">> Since you're going to the place, you haven't have single clue what to expect in that place true you're the creator of this world but then again the God rewritten everything to their whims. "Can you tell me a bit about the Kingdom Of Tiara?" you inquire Garett. "Of course, what do you want to know?" Garett ask you. "If its nots a hassle maybe everything!" you laugh, trying to gentle get the ball rolling. "Well, the Kingdom of Tiara is a prosperous land located in the heart of the continent. It's ruled by a powerful monarch, Queen Isobel, who is beloved by her people. The kingdom is known for its rich culture, beautiful architecture. They have the best blacksmiths in the land who forge the most durable and efficient weapons and armors," Garett explains. "Not to mention being the supplier of weapons and steel to other neighboring kingdoms." So far so good, Garett mentions how Tiare is still the powerful kingdom in this world and being the source of iron and weapons as their source of income but one thing does not add up, Queen Isobel, looks like the Gods added a new addition to the plot. "Queen Isobel, you say?" you interrupt Garett's explanation. "Yes, the Queen of Tiara and The wife of King Richard," Garett confirms. Looks like Richard finally found a wife, you remember you made him single in your story. "Tell me more," you press, hoping for any information that you can learn. Garett nods, sensing your curiosity. "She's known for her strategic mind and her unwavering devotion to her people. She's also a fierce warrior, skilled in both hand-to-hand combat and with a sword." You can't help but be impressed by Queen Isobel's accomplishments, but the fact remains that she wasn't part of your original work for this world. But for now you decided to move to another topic, besides is much better if you see Queen Isobel for yourself. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "The Royal Princess how does she fare?">> The topic of the royal family is still on discussion and you heard how Clara is expert wielder of a rapier so you decided to ask about Clara being curious to know what else change about her. "The Royal Princess, how does she fare?" you ask, Garett raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "<<print $player_name>>, forgive me for my bluntness, but may I ask why you are so interested in learning about the Kingdom of Tiara and its rulers?" You pause, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. "I've just always been interested in the politics and culture of different kingdoms. Tiara seems like a fascinating place," you say, hoping to sound convincing. "So you're not a spy?" Garett ask you suspiocusly. "I assure you, Garett, I am not a spy," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. Garett narrows his eyes at you, studying you carefully. After a few moments, he seems to relax slightly. "Very well, I'll answer your question," he says. "Princess Clara is doing well, as far as I know. She's still unmarried, much to the chagrin of her parents, but she's a strong and capable young woman." "The princess still unmarried, I'm sure a sweet and kind girl such as she will find a suitable match for her already?" you say surpirsed, you written Clara as a shy and loving woman what changed that cause this event to transpire? Garett laughs heartily, his suspicions of you starting to dissipate. "Oh, the princess has quite the reputation for being a bit...unconventional at times." "In what way?" you ask, intrigued. "Well, at one ball she attended, she wore a rather revealing gown that caused one of the waiters to be so distracted that he slipped and toppled over a tower of wine glasses," Garett explains, still chuckling at the memory. You raise an eyebrow in surprise. That was certainly not the Clara you had envisioned when creating her character. "I see. And how did the guests react to that?" Garett shrugs. "Some were scandalized, of course, but others found it quite amusing. It's not the first time the princess has caused a stir with her behavior." "You mean there are others more?" you gasp at Clara's behavior. Garett chuckles, shaking his head. "Oh yes, the princess has quite the reputation for her behavior. One time, a visiting prince came to ask for her hand in marriage. But the princess didn't like him and made her feelings known to her parents. However, Queen Isobel and King Richard are firm in their decision-making, so the princess decided that if she couldn't change her parents' minds, she would change the prince's." You furrow your brow, wondering what kind of prank Princess Clara could have pulled off to make a prince call off an engagement. "What kind of prank did she play on him?" you ask. You lean forward in anticipation as Garett continues, "On the night of the prince's arrival, the princess arranged for a fake spider to be placed in his bed. But that's not all. She also had one of the castle's servants dress up in a ghost costume and sneak into his room in the middle of the night. The poor prince was so terrified that he ran out of the castle in his nightclothes and was seen by half the town!" You can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. "Wow, Princess Clara really knows how to make an impression," you say, still chuckling. Garett nods, a small smile on his face. "Yes, she definitely does. But despite her mischievous ways, she has a good heart and genuinely cares for her people. And she is still the royal princess of Tiara, after all." You nod in agreement, impressed by Princess Clara's spunk and cunning. "I can't wait to meet her and see what other tricks she has up her sleeve," you say with a grin. "Be carefull what you wish for <<print $player_name>>, She's also a master of deception and trickery. You never know what she might have up her sleeve!" Gareet says with a chuckle. You can't help but chuckle at Garett's warning, but deep down, you know he's probably right. You've heard enough stories about Princess Clara's mischievous ways to know that you need to tread carefully when it comes to her. But still, the thought of meeting her and witnessing her antics in person is too tempting to resist. "I'll keep that in mind," you say with a smile, "but I'm still excited to see what kind of trouble she can stir up." "Good luck in your endearvors then, <<print $player_name>>!" <</linkreplace>> Garett tilts his head to look at the sky. "Looks like it's getting late," he muses, his eyes scanning the horizon. You crane your neck to look, and sure enough, the sun is starting to dip below the treeline, casting the sky in a fiery orange hue. "HALT!" Garett booms, and at the sound of his voice, the whole procession comes to a slow stop. He surveys the area around them, scanning for any signs of danger or potential campsites. You can see the years of experience etched into his features as he weighs the pros and cons of each potential location. "We make camp here in the forest," he orders. Garett dismounts from his horse, his boots crunching on the forest floor. "Well, I'm glad you decided to join me, <<print $player_name>>. However, duty calls, and I must attend to it," he chuckles. You nod in understanding, dismounting your own horse. "Of course, I'll help set up camp." you offer. As Garett walks off to tend to his tasks, you watch as the caravan swiftly sets to work. The skilled hands of the caravan workers unload the necessary supplies from the carriages and carts, swiftly and efficiently setting up camp in record time. The tents are erected with ease, and the cook fires are soon burning brightly. The smell of roasting meat wafts through the air, making your mouth water. You lend a hand where you can, assisting with the preparation of food and the setting up of the tents. It's amazing to see the level of expertise and organization in the caravan. It's clear that they've done this countless times before. As the night approaches, the moon shines brightly from above, casting a silvery glow over the campsite. The air is cool and still, with no clouds in sight. You turn your attention to your surroundings, watching as the convoy members bustle about, eating around the campfire, laughing and telling stories. Suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder, and you turn to see Lucian standing behind you, his eyes bright with excitement. "Heya <<print $player_name>>, so are you ready for some weapon training?" he asks, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm. The idea had slipped your mind. "Sure, lead the way!" Together, you and Lucian weave through the campsite, making your way towards Lee who standing around on the campfire. "Lee!" Lucian greets him as you approach. "Lucian, so ready for that training?" Lee asks, grinning from ear to ear. "Sure am, and I hope you don't mind <<print $player_name>> tagging along!" Lucian points to you, including you in the conversation. "Not at all!" Lee says in a jovial tone. "Oi Boss, can you train Lucian?" Lee shouts to Garett, who is busy with his duties. Garett waves his hand in acknowledgment. "Well, see yah later <<print $player_name>>!" Lucian says to you, excitement written all over his face. "See you later!" you say with a smile, eager to start the training. "Come with me <<print $player_name>>!" Lee's voice broke through the stillness of the night, beckoning you to follow him As you trailed behind, your heart beat faster with anticipation, wondering what he had in store for you. As you came upon a tree stump covered in a mysterious blanket, you could feel the excitement bubbling up inside of you. Lee unsheathed three weapons, each one exuding an aura of malevolence. Your gaze locked onto the deadly sword, its ebony hilt gleaming in the moonlight and its razor-sharp blade shimmering with menace. As you reached out to grasp it, the mesmerizing patterns engraved into the handle appeared to come alive, beckoning you to possess it. Lee demonstrated the blade's raw power, his swings cutting through the atmosphere with a thunderous roar. "This weapon is unparalleled, with extraordinary reach, speed, and balance. You could wield it with deftness and precision or eviscerate your foes with lethal force." Your gaze was drawn to the long spear, its polished wooden shaft glimmering in the silver light of the moon. As you advanced closer, an overwhelming force vibrated from its razor-sharp tip, sending a chill down your spine. Lee grabbed it with confidence and gracefully twirled it around like a part of his body. "This weapon is only suitable for the most experienced warriors, whose hands are steady and vision is keen. It can be used for brutal offensive purposes or defensive protection, thanks to its remarkable length and absolute accuracy." Your eyes widen in awe as you behold the scythe warhammer, its curved blade of tempered steel and weighty wooden handle looking like an instrument of damnation forged by the Devil himself. You can almost feel its ominous strength deep within your bones, a tool of pure destruction that strikes fear into its victims with every swipe, capable of shattering bone and tearing flesh from bone. Lee lifted the scythe warhammer with an almost savage glee, his fierce expression hinting at the devastation it could bring about. "This weapon brings death and destruction to those who oppose it," he declared with a sinister grin. "It can slice through even the strongest of armors, while its hammer can pulverize bones in a single blow." His arms bulged with power as he brought the weapon above his head and thrust it downwards with all the strength in his mighty body. The tree trunk stood no chance against its might, splintering in two under its relentless force, a deep gouge left behind in its wake. "Now it's your turn," Lee said, gesturing to the weapons with a sly grin. "Choose your weapon and unleash your fury upon your foes." You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you reached for the weapon of your choice, eager to wield it against any enemy who dared cross your path. ''//(Note: Picking Sword will increase your Wisdom and Guile. Picking Spear will increase your Agility and Finesse. Picking Scythe will increase your Strenght and Endurance.)//'' Your hand hovering between the 3 weapons. <<cycle "$weapon" autoselect>> <<option "sword">> <<option "spear">> <<option "scythe">> <</cycle>> [[Continue|Training Scene 2]]

You yawned and stepped back from the dragon, shaking your head regretfully. "I wanted to, but I'm just too tired right now." "What a shame," Variel replied in an almost menacing tone, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. "But if you're still up for it, don't hesitate to call on me." She grinned a predatory smile at you, her eyes never leaving your face. The hairs on the back of your neck prickled as you tried to keep your voice steady. "Yeah, sure!" You tried to laugh it off and waved goodbye, already walking away quickly before she could change her mind. But even after you had left the clearing, you could feel her fiery gaze burning into your back. ''(Variel's POV)'' "Aren't you coming with them?" you ask Lee. "Not for now,I still have questions to ask to you." Lee says coolly. "Interesting." you muse in amusement. "Very well! What are you questions?" you ask Lee and eager to be over with it. "The way your body tense earlier and your form, I can safely say that you're adept in hand-to-hand combat, am I right?" "You have my mother to thank for that," you reply with a hint of pride, still watching <<print $player_name>> until they disappear into the shadows of the night. "Then that means your mother has a good teacher." Lee muses warmly. "She had, ever since I was little my mother was fascinated by humans, even though they were fragile and small, she admired their resilience and how they could always overcome any odds no matter how daunting they were," you recall fondly, feeling your late mother's presence in your heart. // "Humans are wonderful beings; despite their apparent fragility they find ways to overcome any obstacle or challenge."// her voice echoing in your mind. "Your mother must have been a very wise woman and I want to thank her personally if I have the chance to meet her." Lee acknowledges. "She would enjoy hearing that, but unfortunately she's not here anymore," you say sorrowfully. "I offer my condolences," Lee says gently. "Thank you, but I'm grateful she isn't here now because her heart would break to witness the Scourge: two of her precious race fighting and killing each other," you whisper bitterly. "Ahh yes, the Great Scourge, a plague on the history between our species." Lee says regrettly. "Can you please ask your question now." you snap at Lee bad memories surfacing at the mention of the Scourge. "Of course, I apologize." Lee bows his head. "Now for my question, do you have feelings for <<print $player_name>>?" Lee ask you straight ot the point. The audacity! "HAHAHA!" you burst out laughing at the prospect of you falling in love for them. "Can you please enlightened me why you would ask such a preposterous question?" you ask Lee curious to why this is his observation. "For starters, you seem to be obsessed with <<print $player_name>>." Lee grins at you. "Second, you seem to be at their side all the time, wanting to bask in their attention." Lee continues. "But does it ever occur to you that maybe is the other way around, <<print $player_name>> is the one chasing me?" you ask Lee and crossing your arms, irritated by the notion of you seeking <<print $player_name>>'s favor and time. "Perhaps!" Lee says. "But you can't deny that you're entertaining them." Lee chuckles. You grit your teeth. "I don't have feelings for them, end of discussion!" you say sharply. "If you say so!" Lee walk past you but stopping in his tracks. "But you know what they say, love hurts, the more you deny its call." Lee says and continue walking forward leaving you alone. "In love? ME?" you ask yourslef angered. But you stopped and looked at Lee's retreating back. Maybe, maybe Lee has a point. "BAHHH!" you lash out. "As long as I have live this has never happened before and this will not be the first for a mighty dragon to stoop low to a human!" you say it as a promise. ''(MC's POV)'' The air is cold and biting, the atmosphere oppressive and alive with the incessant chirping of crickets. "So how did it go <<print $player_name>>?" you hear a voice that turns out to be Garett. You spin around and see him sitting near a roaring campfire, an eager grin stretching across his face. "It went good!" you reply. "I hope Lee wasn't too harsh on you" Garett queries. "Harsh enough," you reply with a sigh. "Just want to apologize in advance for his brashness" Garett offers sincerely. You give him a half-hearted nod, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. "You must be tired, make yourself at home in my tent." Garett gestures behind him and lo and behold there stands a tent close by. "What about you?" You ask, grateful yet concerned for his well being. "I'm fine," He replies calmly as he moves closer to the flames, holding out his hands as if to embrace them. "Are you sure?" You press on, unable to contain your worry. "Very sure" Garett insists without turning back to look at you. You give in reluctantly, bidding him farewell before making your way towards the tent entrance. "Thanks by the way," you say over your shoulder in gratitude. "No worries," He responds quietly before adding gratefully: "And thanks for aiding us in tracking down Variel." "Also leave your weapon behind." Garett chuckles. "Oh right!" you put down your weapon down on the ground. You push aside the tent flaps and enter what appears to be just enough space for two people; clothes are strewn all over the ground. You crawl onto them and close your eyes slowly, succumbing immediately to the blissful depths of sleep. [[Continue|Morning Bandit Prep 3]]

You toss and turn, trying to find a few moments of comfort in the cacophony of the room. Shouts fill your ears as objects crash around you- "Henry fetch me that bucket!" followed by an angry retort-"For the fuck sake Peter!". You bury your head in the pillow, desperate for just five more minutes of rest. Suddenly, a voice pierces through the din like a knife: "Wakey, wakey," Lee's silky tones fill your ears. "5 more minutes!" you plead, only to be met with laughter. "As much as I wanted to give you those 5 minutes, we're leaving in 10!" Lee chides. You slowly peeled open your heavy eyelids and sat up in the tent, squinting as the sun shone through. "Here you go." Lee said quietly, offering you a plate of bacon and beans. You hesitantly accepted it and met Lee's gaze - his eyes were soft despite the roughness of his demeanor. Garett's voice echoes from outside. "Lee, where are you?" "Well, see yah <<print $player_name>>," he flashed a crooked smile before turning towards the shout of Garett's voice. With a wave, he left you alone with the plate. The food was plain and unappetizing, but it still managed to fill some of the hunger pangs deep inside you. Holding an empty plate in hand, you stood up and made your way outside. The crisp morning air felt refreshing against your skin as you spotted a man washing utensils near a bin filled with water - that must be where dirty plates are washed. With an understanding nod, you placed your plate there too. As you made your way back to your tent, you noticed a figure in the distance. It was Lee, and he was standing by the riverbank. Without really thinking, you found yourself walking towards him. As you got closer, you could see that he was deep in thought, his eyes fixed on the water. You hesitated for a moment, but then decided to speak up. "Hey," you said softly. Lee turned to you and smiled. "Hey," he replied. "Did you enjoy your breakfast?" You shrugged. "It was alright, I guess." He chuckled. "Well, it's better than nothing." You both stood there in silence for a moment, watching the river flow by. It was a peaceful moment, and you felt a sense of calm wash over you. "So what now?" you ask. Lee looks at you with a faraway expression and speaks wistfully. "We journey on for another five hours or so, and then we shall finally reach our destination and conclude our business there." "Conclude? As in part ways?" you inquire. Lee shrugs his broad shoulders. "It's up to you, my friend. We can part ways if you wish, but if you decide to stay in the kingdom for a while longer, we could certainly use your help." Your mind races with thoughts of what might lie ahead. Should I stay or go? The decision weighs heavily upon you. Suddenly, the sound of Garett's voice breaks through the silence. "Come on, you two! Let's go! We're still a few miles away from Tiara!" "You heard him," says Lee with a smile. "As for your decision, why not wait until we get to Tiara before making up your mind? Perhaps seeing the kingdom will inspire you one way or another." he walked past you. Your heart dropped at the realization of your situation. You wanted to explore and understand the kingdom but your stomach churned as though it had been wrung by an unseen force. “What have the Gods done to my fate? Do I even have a choice on the matter?” Garett jolted you out of your thoughts with his overly optimistic tones, “Morning <<print $player_name>>! So you know what to do! Get into position.” You nodded your head, setting out to find Beatrice. You skilfully maneuvered the campgrounds; sidestepping people and lending a hand to a man who was barely able to keep his towering stack of crates from collapsing. "Thanks!" he said, before continuing on his way. Finally, after what felt like eons of searching, you found Beatrice tied to a tree and nonchalantly grazing on some grass near the dirt path. "There you are! I've been looking for you!" you exclaimed in relief, quickly untying her reins from the branch. Beatrice kept nibbling on her grass while watching you with mild curiosity. "C'mon now," you hummed gently, guiding Beatrice back onto the road and tying her postion at the front where you had been placed earlier. “Is your head feeling better?” Variel asked with an predatory smirk. “It feels much better,” you said in response, hopping onto Beatrice with a bold leap. "That is great news then." she chuckled. Your gaze is drawn to the crimson dress of Variel that radiates in the warm sunlight. "How do you like my new look?" Variel inquires with a mischievous glint in her eye. "It is stunning," you say, trying to hide your discomfort. "Thank you little mouse." She replies, her voice dripping with sinister sweetness. "After all, I like to bathe myself in the blood of my enemies." You feel an icy chill run down your spine and you tense up, fearful for your safety as her words echo around you. Garett bellowed loudly, causing everyone to go silent instantaneously. “ATTENTION! FORWARD MARCH!” he commanded, you give Beatrice a swift kick to her side and urging it forward. The convoy burst into motion. The sun was just beginning to peek through the gaps of the thick forest canopy, casting its golden rays on the lush greenery below. You were in awe at the beauty of your surroundings, listening to chirps and tweets of birdsong as Beatrice galloped steadily ahead. “Slow down everyone! We’ve got company.” The voice of Garett booms out. The convoy stops dead in its tracks and a breathless silence falls over the group. Variel's red eyes blaze like two orbs of fire as she hisses, her voice laced with barely contained menace, “Oh something interesting is happening - be warned!" You swallow hard and take a few steps back but your curiosity is too strong to ignore. Marching forward in spite of the danger, you hear Variel's voice purr behind you, "Be careful little mouse, it will be a shame if something else kills you before I do." A shiver ran through you as you march ahead to uncover what could be causing this disturbance. As you drew closer, you realized that they were 3 men with rugged features on their face and wearing simple clothing made from animal hide and swords strapped to their hips. They stood silently with their arms crossed over their chests watching you intently without moving a muscle or saying a word. Getting closer to them, a sinister grin spreads across the face of one of the men. "Nice convoy you got there!" he sneers with an eery chuckle. "Would be a shame if something happened to it," the second man adds, his voice dripping with malice. "State your business!" Garett shouts out a demand for explanation, but his words are met only with a shrill whistle. In a flash of movement, men burst from the foliage on either side, bows and crossbows raised and arrows locked in place on the strings. Fear and dread course through everyone as the group stands firm, waiting for whatever comes next. Garett’s voice cut through the tension like a knife and he addressed the leader of the bandits in a surprisingly calm manner. “What do you want? We can come to an agreement without any more bloodshed. Just tell me what it is you need, and I will do my best to provide it for you.” The leader stared at him for a moment before responding in a gruff voice “We seek revenge against those who wronged us...and their goods are just gravy on top! So we suggest you hand over your valuables or else suffer our wrath!” You looked to the side and noticed that some of the attackers were suddenly vanishing, as if they were being plucked away by an unseen demon. You went to speak, but Lee glanced at you warningly, pressing a finger to his lips as a silent plea for silence. "Hey what's the twos of you talking about there?" the leader barked. "Nothing much!" Lee shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. One of the men lurched forward and punched Lee in the cheek, hard enough to make a sickening thud reverberate across the space. "Answer propery when the Chief is asking you!" the thug growled menacingly. "Lee!" Garett shouted with alarm. "I'm alright boss just a scatrch." He forced a chuckle before he was met with another blow, this time a kick directly to his stomach. Pain lanced through his body as he doubled over. Lee was on the ground gasping for air after a powerful kick to his stomach. Anger surges through you, you look at Lee and see him holding his side in agony and trying to hold back tears of pain. [[Punch the attacker]] [[Rush to Lee and help him get up]] [[Laugh and tell the bandit how screwed they are]]

"You're on!" you say, the fear that was squeezing your heart beginning to dissolve as excitement filled you at the prospect of facing Variel on the battleground. "Wonderful!" she says with a maniacal cackle and clapping her hands. "I'm getting too old for this shit!" Lee chokes out and lumbers into the middle. "Alright listen up, both of you stand on opposite ends and wait for my signal." You trudge to your side while Variel stands tall and proud, looking down at you with contempt. As Lee raises his arm, you sink into a defensive stance ready to strike. But when he yells 'fight!' Variel vanished in a blur before your eyes. Instincts in alert, you freeze just as slim arms encircle your stomach and pull you close. You feel her breath against your neck as she laughs wildly. @@#Hello; <<link "I'm flattered but I think we should be fighting, dont you think">><<replace "#Hello">> You pat her hands, "I'm flattered but I think we should be fighting, don't you think?" Variel's grip grows tighter as you speak, and a predatory smile spreads across her face. "What gives you the idea that we're not fighting?" she purrs, sending a chill down your spine. "You're hugging me right now!" you force out a chuckle, trying to break the tension in the air. Lee chimes in with a snicker,"Hahaha, what an idiot!" Variel replies with action, lifting you off your feet before hurling you onto the floor head first. A sharp pain pierces your skull as it crashes against the hard ground. You feel dizzy and pressure builds up inside your skull, certain that you suffered a concussion. Variel towers over you with a smug smirk on her face. "Still thinking I'm flattering you?" she teases. Your jaw drops as you take in the sight of two Variels standing before you. "You have a twin?" you gasp, taking in the sight of their identical faces and wondering what kind of force could cause such an occurrence. Lee whistles through his teeth as he kneels to inspect your condition, his face grave with concern. "Looks like their head took a hard hit." Variel waves her hand dismissively, yet it glows with a bright green light like before when she healed you. "Oh don't worry," she says softy. Her magic washed over you, burning away the pain and dizziness as if it was never there. "That's pretty incredible!" you say, sitting up with a sense of awe. "I know little mouse and do you want to go again?" Variel taunted, her voice dripping with smugness. "Hell yea-" "Woah, hold on <<print $player_name>>," Lee interjected, holding a hand up in warning. "It's getting late and I can see that the odds are stacked in Variel's side here. We don't want any brain injuries or worse in the future, so get up and get some rest." Lee advised sternly. "But I wanna fight Va-" "It's alright little mouse," Variel cut in, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Maybe soon we'll have our rematch." "Fine!" you groaned tiredly, brushing yourself off before standing. "You two coming or what?" you asked, turning expectantly towards them. "Go on ahead <<print $player_name>>," Lee said with a wave of his hand. "I need to ask a few questions to Variel." "Interesting," Variel hummed in response, her lips curling into a smirk. You shrugged your shoulders dismissively and feeling exhausted from arguing with them, you turned on your heels to start walking back to the camp. ''(Variel's POV)'' "You got good form," Lee praises you. "I can say that you're an expert in hand-to-hand combat." "You have my mother to thank for that," you reply with a hint of pride, still watching <<print $player_name>> until ?mcthey disappear into the shadows of the night. "Then that means your mother has a good teacher." Lee muses warmly. "She had, ever since I was little my mother was fascinated by humans, even though they were fragile and small, she admired their resilience and how they could always overcome any odds no matter how daunting they were," you recall fondly, feeling your late mother's presence in your heart. // "Humans are wonderful beings; despite their apparent fragility they find ways to overcome any obstacle or challenge."// her voice echoing in your mind. "Your mother must have been a very wise woman and I want to thank her personally if I have the chance to meet her." Lee acknowledges. "She would enjoy hearing that, but unfortunately she's not here anymore," you say sorrowfully. "I offer my condolences," Lee says gently. "Thank you, but I'm grateful she isn't here now because her heart would break to witness the Scourge: two of her precious race fighting and killing each other," you whisper bitterly. "Ahh yes, the Great Scourge, a plague on the history between our species." Lee says regrettly. "Can you please ask your question now." you snap at Lee bad memories surfacing at the mention of the Scourge. "Of course, I apologize." Lee bows his head. "Now for my question, do you have feelings for <<print $player_name>>?" Lee ask you straight ot the point. The audacity! "HAHAHA!" you burst out laughing at the prospect of you falling in love for ?mcthem. "Can you please enlightened me why you would ask such a preposterous question?" you ask Lee curious to why this is his observation. "For starters, you seem to be obsessed with <<print $player_name>>." Lee grins at you. "Second, you seem to be at ?mctheir side all the time, wanting to bask in ?mctheir attention." Lee continues. "But does it ever occur to you that maybe is the other way around, seeking <<print $player_name>> is the one chasing me?" you ask Lee and crossing your arms, irritated by the notion of you seeking <<print $player_name>>'s favor and time. "Perhaps!" Lee says. "But you can't deny that you're entertaining ?mcthem." Lee chuckles. You grit your teeth. "I don't have feelings for ?mcthem, end of discussion!" you say sharply. "If you say so!" Lee walk past you but stopping in his tracks. "But you know what they say, love hurts, the more you deny its call." Lee says and continue walking forward leaving you alone. "In love? ME?" you ask yourslef angered. But you stopped and looked at Lee's retreating back. Maybe, maybe Lee has a point. "BAHHH!" you lash out. "As long as I have live this has never happened before and this will not be the first for a mighty dragon to stoop low to a human!" you say it as a promise. ''(MC's POV)'' The air is cold and biting, the atmosphere oppressive and alive with the incessant chirping of crickets. "So how did it go <<print $player_name>>?" you hear a voice that turns out to be Garett. You spin around and see him sitting near a roaring campfire, an eager grin stretching across his face. "It went good!" you reply. "I hope Lee wasn't too harsh on you" Garett queries. "Harsh enough," you reply with a sigh. "Just want to apologize in advance for his brashness" Garett offers sincerely. You give him a half-hearted nod, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. "You must be tired, make yourself at home in my tent." Garett gestures behind him and lo and behold there stands a tent close by. "What about you?" You ask, grateful yet concerned for his well being. "I'm fine," He replies calmly as he moves closer to the flames, holding out his hands as if to embrace them. "Are you sure?" You press on, unable to contain your worry. "Very sure" Garett insists without turning back to look at you. You give in reluctantly, bidding him farewell before making your way towards the tent entrance. "Thanks by the way," you say over your shoulder in gratitude. "No worries," He responds quietly before adding gratefully: "And thanks for aiding us in tracking down Variel." "Also leave your weapon behind." Garett chuckles. "Oh right!" you put down your weapon down on the ground. You push aside the tent flaps and enter what appears to be just enough space for two people; clothes are strewn all over the ground. You crawl onto them and close your eyes slowly, succumbing immediately to the blissful depths of sleep. [[Continue|Morning Bandit Prep 3]] <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Getting close and personal aren't we">><<replace "#Hello">> You put your hands on hers, but she responds by latching onto you with an iron grip. "Getting close and personal aren't we?" you ask in vain as her powerful arms constrict your waist like a boa. Variel only replies with a menacing smirk before lifting you off the ground and hurtling you head first into the floor. A sharp pain shoots through your skull and everything goes dark for a moment. You feel dizzy, and pressure builds up inside your skull until you're certain that you have suffered a concussion. Variel towers over you, looking down at you with a smug, satisfied smile on her face. "But I have to say, your intelligence is rather questionable ?" she taunts. "I pity you, <<print $player_name>>!" Lee muse, shaking his hand in amusment. "Did you just suplex me?!" you demanded dazedly, your vision still spinning and the image of Variel's face spinning around in your periphery. "<<print $player_name>>, how many fingers am I holding?" Lee challenged , his fingers raised. "Four or five, I think," you replied uncertainly. "Yup, he got brain damage now," Lee says worriedly. But Variel waved her hand dismissively, though this time it shimmered with a bright green light like before when she had healed you. "Oh don't worry," she said softly. Her magic washed over you, burning away the pain and dizziness as if it was never there. "That's pretty incredible!" you say, sitting up with a sense of awe. "I know little mouse and do you want to go again?" Variel taunted, her voice dripping with smugness. "Hell yea-" "Woah, hold on <<print $player_name>>," Lee interjected, holding a hand up in warning. "It's getting late and I can see that the odds are stacked in Variel's side here. We don't want any brain injuries or worse in the future, so get up and get some rest." Lee advised sternly. "But I wanna fight Va-" "It's alright little mouse," Variel cut in, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Maybe soon we'll have our rematch." "Fine!" you groaned tiredly, brushing yourself off before standing. "You two coming or what?" you asked, turning expectantly towards them. "Go on ahead <<print $player_name>>," Lee said with a wave of his hand. "I need to ask a few questions to Variel." "Interesting," Variel hummed in response, her lips curling into a smirk. You shrugged your shoulders dismissively and feeling exhausted from arguing with them, you turned on your heels to start walking back to the camp. ''(Variel's POV)'' "You got good form," Lee praises you. "I can say that you're an expert in hand-to-hand combat." "You have my mother to thank for that," you reply with a hint of pride, still watching <<print $player_name>> until ?mcthey disappear into the shadows of the night. "Then that means your mother has a good teacher." Lee muses warmly. "She had, ever since I was little my mother was fascinated by humans, even though they were fragile and small, she admired their resilience and how they could always overcome any odds no matter how daunting they were," you recall fondly, feeling your late mother's presence in your heart. // "Humans are wonderful beings; despite their apparent fragility they find ways to overcome any obstacle or challenge."// her voice echoing in your mind. "Your mother must have been a very wise woman and I want to thank her personally if I have the chance to meet her." Lee acknowledges. "She would enjoy hearing that, but unfortunately she's not here anymore," you say sorrowfully. "I offer my condolences," Lee says gently. "Thank you, but I'm grateful she isn't here now because her heart would break to witness the Scourge: two of her precious race fighting and killing each other," you whisper bitterly. "Ahh yes, the Great Scourge, a plague on the history between our species." Lee says regrettly. "Can you please ask your question now." you snap at Lee bad memories surfacing at the mention of the Scourge. "Of course, I apologize." Lee bows his head. "Now for my question, do you have feelings for <<print $player_name>>?" Lee ask you straight ot the point. The audacity! "HAHAHA!" you burst out laughing at the prospect of you falling in love for ?mcthem. "Can you please enlightened me why you would ask such a preposterous question?" you ask Lee curious to why this is his observation. "For starters, you seem to be obsessed with <<print $player_name>>." Lee grins at you. "Second, you seem to be at ?mctheir side all the time, wanting to bask in ?mctheir attention." Lee continues. "But does it ever occur to you that maybe is the other way around, <<print $player_name>> is the one chasing me?" you ask Lee and crossing your arms, irritated by the notion of you seeking <<print $player_name>>'s favor and time. "Perhaps!" Lee says. "But you can't deny that you're entertaining ?mcthem." Lee chuckles. You grit your teeth. "I don't have feelings for ?mcthem, end of discussion!" you say sharply. "If you say so!" Lee walk past you but stopping in his tracks. "But you know what they say, love hurts, the more you deny its call." Lee says and continue walking forward leaving you alone. "In love? ME?" you ask yourslef angered. But you stopped and looked at Lee's retreating back. Maybe, maybe Lee has a point. "BAHHH!" you lash out. "As long as I have live this has never happened before and this will not be the first for a mighty dragon to stoop low to a human!" you say it as a promise. ''(MC's POV) The air is cold and biting, the atmosphere oppressive and alive with the incessant chirping of crickets. "So how did it go <<print $player_name>>?" you hear a voice that turns out to be Garett. You spin around and see him sitting near a roaring campfire, an eager grin stretching across his face. "It went good!" you reply. "I hope Lee wasn't too harsh on you" Garett queries. "Harsh enough," you reply with a sigh. "Just want to apologize in advance for his brashness" Garett offers sincerely. You give him a half-hearted nod, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. "You must be tired, make yourself at home in my tent." Garett gestures behind him and lo and behold there stands a tent close by. "What about you?" You ask, grateful yet concerned for his well being. "I'm fine," He replies calmly as he moves closer to the flames, holding out his hands as if to embrace them. "Are you sure?" You press on, unable to contain your worry. "Very sure" Garett insists without turning back to look at you. You give in reluctantly, bidding him farewell before making your way towards the tent entrance. "Thanks by the way," you say over your shoulder in gratitude. "No worries," He responds quietly before adding gratefully: "And thanks for aiding us in tracking down Variel." "Also leave your weapon behind." Garett chuckles. "Oh right!" you put down your weapon down on the ground. You push aside the tent flaps and enter what appears to be just enough space for two people; clothes are strewn all over the ground. You crawl onto them and close your eyes slowly, succumbing immediately to the blissful depths of sleep. [[Continue|Morning Bandit Prep 3]] <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Let me go">><<replace "#Hello">> "Let me go!" you scream in desperation, desperately trying to pry her iron grip off of your body. You can feel the fear coursing through your veins and taste the bile rising up your throat, knowing all too well what this embrace meant; it was not one of love but of approaching death. "Gladly!" Variel sneers with a menacing smirk before lifting you high off the ground and hurling you head first into the hardwood floor. A sharp pain shoots through your skull and you see stars as darkness encroaches on your vision. You feel like you are spinning as if in a cyclone, and pressure builds inside your head until you feel certain that you have just suffered a dreadful concussion. Variel towers over you, looking down with a smug, satisfied smile. "Happy?" she taunts mockingly. "That's some Dragon Ball C, shit!" you groan in agony as memories of people disappearing or teleporting flash through your mind. "<<print $player_name>>, are you alright?!" Lee's panicked voice reverberates around you as he rushes to your side. "Am I dying Lee?" you plead with him in abject terror. "Yup, he got brain damage now," Lee says worriedly. But Variel waved her hand dismissively, though this time it shimmered with a bright green light like before when she had healed you. "Oh don't worry," she said softly. Her magic washed over you, burning away the pain and dizziness as if it was never there. "I'm alive!" you say, sitting up with a sense of gratitude. "Do you want to go again, little mouse?" Variel taunted, her voice dripping with smugness. "I will kick your a-" "Woah, hold on <<print $player_name>>," Lee interjected, holding a hand up in warning. "It's getting late and I can see that the odds are stacked in Variel's side here. We don't want any brain injuries or worse in the future, so get up and get some rest." Lee advised sternly. "But I wanna fight Va-" "It's alright little mouse," Variel cut in, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Maybe soon we'll have our rematch." "Fine!" you groaned tiredly, brushing yourself off before standing. "You two coming or what?" you asked, turning expectantly towards them. "Go on ahead <<print $player_name>>," Lee said with a wave of his hand. "I need to ask a few questions to Variel." "Interesting," Variel hummed in response, her lips curling into a smirk. You shrugged your shoulders dismissively and feeling exhausted from arguing with them, you turned on your heels to start walking back to the camp. ''(Variel's POV)'' "You got good form," Lee praises you. "I can say that you're an expert in hand-to-hand combat." "You have my mother to thank for that," you reply with a hint of pride, still watching <<print $player_name>> until ?mcthey disappear into the shadows of the night. "Then that means your mother has a good teacher." Lee muses warmly. "She had, ever since I was little my mother was fascinated by humans, even though they were fragile and small, she admired their resilience and how they could always overcome any odds no matter how daunting they were," you recall fondly, feeling your late mother's presence in your heart. // "Humans are wonderful beings; despite their apparent fragility they find ways to overcome any obstacle or challenge."// her voice echoing in your mind. "Your mother must have been a very wise woman and I want to thank her personally if I have the chance to meet her." Lee acknowledges. "She would enjoy hearing that, but unfortunately she's not here anymore," you say sorrowfully. "I offer my condolences," Lee says gently. "Thank you, but I'm grateful she isn't here now because her heart would break to witness the Scourge: two of her precious race fighting and killing each other," you whisper bitterly. "Ahh yes, the Great Scourge, a plague on the history between our species." Lee says regrettly. "Can you please ask your question now." you snap at Lee bad memories surfacing at the mention of the Scourge. "Of course, I apologize." Lee bows his head. "Now for my question, do you have feelings for <<print $player_name>>?" Lee ask you straight ot the point. The audacity! "HAHAHA!" you burst out laughing at the prospect of you falling in love for ?mcthem. "Can you please enlightened me why you would ask such a preposterous question?" you ask Lee curious to why this is his observation. "For starters, you seem to be obsessed with <<print $player_name>>." Lee grins at you. "Second, you seem to be at ?mctheir side all the time, wanting to bask in ?mctheir attention." Lee continues. "But does it ever occur to you that maybe is the other way around, <<print $player_name>>is the one chasing me?" you ask Lee and crossing your arms, irritated by the notion of you seeking <<print $player_name>>'s favor and time. "Perhaps!" Lee says. "But you can't deny that you're entertaining ?mcthem." Lee chuckles. You grit your teeth. "I don't have feelings for ?mcthem, end of discussion!" you say sharply. "If you say so!" Lee walk past you but stopping in his tracks. "But you know what they say, love hurts, the more you deny its call." Lee says and continue walking forward leaving you alone. "In love? ME?" you ask yourslef angered. But you stopped and looked at Lee's retreating back. Maybe, maybe Lee has a point. "BAHHH!" you lash out. "As long as I have live this has never happened before and this will not be the first for a mighty dragon to stoop low to a human!" you say it as a promise. ''(MC's POV) The air is cold and biting, the atmosphere oppressive and alive with the incessant chirping of crickets. "So how did it go <<print $player_name>>?" you hear a voice that turns out to be Garett. You spin around and see him sitting near a roaring campfire, an eager grin stretching across his face. "It went good!" you reply. "I hope Lee wasn't too harsh on you" Garett queries. "Harsh enough," you reply with a sigh. "Just want to apologize in advance for his brashness" Garett offers sincerely. You give him a half-hearted nod, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. "You must be tired, make yourself at home in my tent." Garett gestures behind him and lo and behold there stands a tent close by. "What about you?" You ask, grateful yet concerned for his well being. "I'm fine," He replies calmly as he moves closer to the flames, holding out his hands as if to embrace them. "Are you sure?" You press on, unable to contain your worry. "Very sure" Garett insists without turning back to look at you. You give in reluctantly, bidding him farewell before making your way towards the tent entrance. "Thanks by the way," you say over your shoulder in gratitude. "No worries," He responds quietly before adding gratefully: "And thanks for aiding us in tracking down Variel." "Also leave your weapon behind." Garett chuckles. "Oh right!" you put down your weapon down on the ground. You push aside the tent flaps and enter what appears to be just enough space for two people; clothes are strewn all over the ground. You crawl onto them and close your eyes slowly, succumbing immediately to the blissful depths of sleep. [[Continue|Morning Bandit Prep 3]] <</replace>><</link>> @@

You stifled a yawn and stepped back from the trio reluctantly. “I wanted to, but I’m just too exhausted right now,” you sighed regretfully. “Alrighty then. Sleep well, <<print $player_name>>!” Garett said with a chirpy tone, giving your arm a light punch. Lee gave you a reassuring smile and Lucian nodded his head in agreement before they both said in unison, “Good night.” You smiled tiredly at them and waved goodbye as you turned your back away from the three of them. continuing on your way back to the campgrounds. "Oh - and <<print $player_name>>!" Garett called out before you disappeared into the darkness. "Leave your weapon here and use my tent near the campfire - it's blue!" You gave him one last wave before finally retreating from view. (Lucian's POV)'' Your gaze was fixed on <<print $player_name>> as they stumbled backward away from you. "Do you have feelings for <<print $player_name>>?" Lee asked unexpectedly. You stuttered, trying desperately to concoct an answer that would make sense without giving away too much. Garett just laughed and shook his head, patting your back as he spoke up. "It's alright Lucian," he said chuckling, "We're all adults here." You looked between the two of them incredulously, but they were both smiling reassuringly. You let out a heavy sigh. "No! I absolutely don't have feelings for them!" you balled your fists, digging your nails into your palms as you tried to contain the immense emotion boiling inside of you. "Really?" Lee asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow. He shot Garett a knowing look and he smirked in response. "What about when you threw away the match? Doesn't that mean something to you?" You groaned, these two relentless teases were starting to get on your nerves. With a heavy heart, you admitted, "Maybe...I do have some kind of feeling towards them." You held up your pointer finger and thumb together, barely leaving any space between them. Lee and Garett leaned in intently with wide eyes. "There's definitely something wrong with this scale," Lee murmured, worry seeping into his voice. Garett nodded in agreement before gently grasping your hands, slowly separating them until your fingers were spread apart as wide as possible. "Much better!" A blush crept up your cheeks at the intimate gesture. "Stop it guys," you said softly as you brushed their hands away from yours. Garett snickered and Lee chuckled, "Alright alright, we'll leave you be." He adjusted his clothes and placed a hand on your shoulder. "Just remember that if you ever need someone to talk to, we're here for you." You nodded in appreciation before turning away from them. A wave of relief washed over you and you smiled softly as the realization fully sunk in – these two were your friends. You took a deep breath, feeling more content and relieved than ever before. With newfound resolve, you channeled the warmth radiating from Lee and Garett's souls into yourself, ready to take on whatever life threw at you. You turned around with a huge grin on your face, ready to tease these two back just like they had been teasing you earlier. ''(MC's POV) With a weary sigh, you made your way through the campground. All around you, fires were blazing and tents dotting the landscape. You stepped around them carefully, navigating with ease until you found what you were looking for - Garett's blue tent. The sight of it filled made your body feel heavy of the sudden. Taking a deep breath, you walked up to it and pushed aside the canvas flap, before crawling inside and making yourself comfortable in the blankets and pillows scattered throughout. It smelled like campfires and pine trees. You felt safe here and soon enough your eyes became heavy with exhaustion from the long journey home and you drifted off to sleep in the bundles of blankets and fur that seve as your pillow. [[Continue|Morning Bandit Prep 1]]

You toss and turn, trying to find a few moments of comfort in the cacophony of the room. Shouts fill your ears as objects crash around you- "Henry fetch me that bucket!" followed by an angry retort-"For the fuck sake Peter!". You bury your head in the pillow, desperate for just five more minutes of rest. Suddenly, a voice pierces through the din like a knife: "Wakey, wakey," Lee's silky tones fill your ears. "5 more minutes!" you plead, only to be met with laughter. "As much as I wanted to give you those 5 minutes, we're leaving in 10!" Lee chides. You slowly peeled open your heavy eyelids and sat up in the tent, squinting as the sun shone through. "Here you go." Lee said quietly, offering you a plate of bacon and beans. You hesitantly accepted it and met Lee's gaze - his eyes were soft despite the roughness of his demeanor. Garett's voice echoes from outside. "Lee, where are you?" "Well, see yah <<print $player_name>>," he flashed a crooked smile before turning towards the shout of Garett's voice. With a wave, he left you alone with the plate. The food was plain and unappetizing, but it still managed to fill some of the hunger pangs deep inside you. Holding an empty plate in hand, you stood up and made your way outside. The crisp morning air felt refreshing against your skin as you spotted a man washing utensils near a bin filled with water - that must be where dirty plates are washed. With an understanding nod, you placed your plate there too. As you made your way back to your tent, you noticed a figure in the distance. It was Lee, and he was standing by the riverbank. Without really thinking, you found yourself walking towards him. As you got closer, you could see that he was deep in thought, his eyes fixed on the water. You hesitated for a moment, but then decided to speak up. "Hey," you said softly. Lee turned to you and smiled. "Hey," he replied. "Did you enjoy your breakfast?" You shrugged. "It was alright, I guess." He chuckled. "Well, it's better than nothing." You both stood there in silence for a moment, watching the river flow by. It was a peaceful moment, and you felt a sense of calm wash over you. "So what now?" you ask. Lee looks at you with a faraway expression and speaks wistfully. "We journey on for another five hours or so, and then we shall finally reach our destination and conclude our business there." "Conclude? As in part ways?" you inquire. Lee shrugs his broad shoulders. "It's up to you, my friend. We can part ways if you wish, but if you decide to stay in the kingdom for a while longer, we could certainly use your help." Your mind races with thoughts of what might lie ahead. Should I stay or go? The decision weighs heavily upon you. Suddenly, the sound of Garett's voice breaks through the silence. "Come on, you two! Let's go! We're still a few miles away from Tiara!" "You heard him," says Lee with a smile. "As for your decision, why not wait until we get to Tiara before making up your mind? Perhaps seeing the kingdom will inspire you one way or another." he walked past you. Your heart dropped at the realization of your situation. You wanted to explore and understand the kingdom but your stomach churned as though it had been wrung by an unseen force. “What have the Gods done to my fate? Do I even have a choice on the matter?” Garett jolted you out of your thoughts with his overly optimistic tones, “Morning <<print $player_name>>! So you know what to do! Get into position.” You nodded your head, setting out to find Beatrice. You skilfully maneuvered the campgrounds; sidestepping people and lending a hand to a man who was barely able to keep his towering stack of crates from collapsing. "Thanks!" he said, before continuing on his way. Finally, after what felt like eons of searching, you found Beatrice tied to a tree and nonchalantly grazing on some grass near the dirt path. "There you are! I've been looking for you!" you exclaimed in relief, quickly untying her reins from the branch. Beatrice kept nibbling on her grass while watching you with mild curiosity. "C'mon now," you hummed gently, guiding Beatrice back onto the road and tying her postion at the front where you had been placed earlier. “Did you sleep soundly, <<print $player_name>>?” Garett asked with a smile. “Soundly,” you replied, mounting Beatrice with ease and grace. “Ah! The wonders of training!” He chuckled as Lee positioned himself at the back between the two of you. "Lock and ready to go Boss." Lee says. “Oh, my love, I don't know what I'd do without you by my side.” Garett gushed, winking teasingly in Lee's direction. “Then don't think such a thing because we both know I'm going to look after you as long as you're alive!” Lee chortled heartily at his response while Garett smiled fondly at him before facing forward with determination. Garett bellowed loudly, causing everyone to go silent instantaneously. “ATTENTION! FORWARD MARCH!” he commanded, giving his steed a swift kick and urging it forward. You followed suit and the convoy burst into motion with the three of you leading the charge. The sun was just beginning to peek through the gaps of the thick forest canopy, casting its golden rays on the lush greenery below. You were in awe at the beauty of your surroundings, listening to chirps and tweets of birdsong as Beatrice galloped steadily ahead. Suddenly a group of three figures appeared ahead, blocking your way forward! Garett spoke up immediately “Slow down everyone! We’ve got company.” The convoy came to a halt as you all cautiously approached the mysterious figures who had suddenly presented themselves before you. You squinted from atop Beatrice's back, trying to make out their features in the growing light. As you drew closer, you realized that they were 3 men with rugged features on their face and wearing simple clothing made from animal hide and swords strapped to their hips. They stood silently with their arms crossed over their chests watching you intently without moving a muscle or saying a word. Getting closer to them, a sinister grin spreads across the face of one of the men. "Nice convoy you got there!" he sneers with an eery chuckle. "Would be a shame if something happened to it," the second man adds, his voice dripping with malice. "State your business!" Garett shouts out a demand for explanation, but his words are met only with a shrill whistle. In a flash of movement, men burst from the foliage on either side, bows and crossbows raised and arrows locked in place on the strings. Fear and dread course through everyone as the group stands firm, waiting for whatever comes next. Garett’s voice cut through the tension like a knife and he addressed the leader of the bandits in a surprisingly calm manner. “What do you want? We can come to an agreement without any more bloodshed. Just tell me what it is you need, and I will do my best to provide it for you.” The leader stared at him for a moment before responding in a gruff voice “We seek revenge against those who wronged us...and their goods are just gravy on top! So we suggest you hand over your valuables or else suffer our wrath!” You looked to the side and noticed that some of the attackers were suddenly vanishing, as if they were being plucked away by an unseen demon. You went to speak, but Lee glanced at you warningly, pressing a finger to his lips as a silent plea for silence. "Hey what's the twos of you talking about there?" the leader barked. "Nothing much!" Lee shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. One of the men lurched forward and punched Lee in the cheek, hard enough to make a sickening thud reverberate across the space. "Answer propery when the Chief is asking you!" the thug growled menacingly. "Lee!" Garett shouted with alarm. "I'm alright boss just a scatrch." He forced a chuckle before he was met with another blow, this time a kick directly to his stomach. Pain lanced through his body as he doubled over. Lee was on the ground gasping for air after a powerful kick to his stomach. Anger surges through you, you look at Lee and see him holding his side in agony and trying to hold back tears of pain. [[Punch the attacker]] [[Rush to Lee and help him get up]] [[Laugh and tell the bandit how screwed they are]]

"Why not, I can use the excercise!" your body hummed with excitement as you stretched it out in preparation for the duel. Even though you were an amateur, you could feel your blood racing through your veins and your heart beating faster than ever before. "Excellent!" Garett exclaimed, a sparkle in his eye. "You're always so eager to turn every little thing into a competition, aren't you boss?" Lee added mockingly. "I don't know what you mean by that, love," Garett responded teasingly. "But I'm rooting for Lucian here!" He threw an encouraging smile in Lucian's way. "Oh yeah? Well then I'm betting my money is on <<print $player_name>>!" Lee extended his arm with grand flourish and cheered you on loudly. "A bet? That's making things much more interesting." Garett mused thoughtfully. "The loser will need to treat the winner to dinner!" Lee suggested, extending his arm to Garett for a handshake. "Deal!" Garett agreed and they shook hands firmly. "Achem!" Lucian interjected, a small smirk playing on his lips. Apologies!" The two of them replied quickly in unison before turning back to each other with their competitive banter. Taking control of the situation once again, Garett shouted orders. "Alright! Both of you go to the far end of your side and wait for Lee's signal." You and Lucain complied, taking your positions on opposite sides of the area while muscles coiled and tensed in anticipation. Finally, Lee extended his arm high above him and yelled, "Begin!". You took off without hesitation. <<if $weapon == "sword" >> Lucian eagerly met your advance, his short sword whirling in a blur of grace and power. You struggled to keep up, but with Lee's teachings fresh in your mind, you managed to stay on par with Lucian. Steel clashed against steel as sparks flew from the contact, and it felt as if time itself had stopped. The clash only lasted for a few moments before Lucian began to outpace you again. However, this time instead of backing away or attempting to dodge his strikes, you stood still and focused on what was coming at you. Then in a single fleeting moment of clarity and instinct, you brought your sword up in defense just in time to catch Lucian's next strike. The sound that the blades made when they collided reverberated throughout the open field as both fighters held their weapons locked together in shock. Lucian stepped back and lowered his sword, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Garett let out an explosive cheer, his words thundering through the space as he shouted: "That's right Lucian, dance like a butterfly and sting like a bee!". Lee offered a rallying call of encouragement, her voice ringing in your ears: "Focus <<print $player_name>>! Lucian's speed and attack time might be faster than yours, but don't forget that the sword is not your only weapon!". You stared into Lucian's eyes, seeing something new there; gone was the shyness, replaced by a fierce power that crackled in the air. He hadn't uttered a word yet, but his body language spoke volumes. The two of you resumed your positions and readied your weapons, this time though the intensity had increased tenfold. Lucian stepped forward and began to circle around you, his moves growing faster with each step. You followed his movements carefully, watching him like a hawk as he attacked. You dodged one strike then blocked another before parrying away the third. The clangs of steel against steel rang out in quick succession and it was becoming harder for you to keep up but then Lee's words resonated in your mind once again "Use all your senses". You took in a deep breath and felt the air around you, noticing the subtle shifts in pressure as Lucian moved closer or further away from you. You focused on the sound of his breathing and footsteps, timing your blocks accordingly and even anticipating a few strikes before they happened. You kept up with Lucian's advances for what felt like hours until finally he stepped back with an astonished look on his face. But it did not last long for he sprinted forward, a hellbent fury in his eyes. You raised your blade to meet his attack but suddenly tripped mid-run and slid helplessly close to you as if offering himself to your blade. You stared, dumbstruck at the sight in front of you. Lucian was every bit close enough for you to have ended him in one blow, yet here he was, laughing like nothing ever happened, like he had planned it all along. "Gotcha!" you exclaimed victoriously, pointing the tip of your sword mere inches away from his face. "Haha, you sure do!" Lucian chuckled unabashedly as he looked up into your sword point with a glint of admiration in his eyes. A wild sound of delight erupted from Lee as he threw his arms in the air, doing a clumsy yet exuberant victory dance. Garett just shook his head and laughed while Lucian lay on the ground, letting out an amused sigh. You reached out your hand and offered to help him stand. He smiled thankfully, tightly gripping your arm for support. "How about another g-" you started speaking but were interrupted by an unexpected yawn, exhaustion abruptly hitting you like a ton of bricks. Lucian smirked knowingly and finished your sentence with a chuckle. "I would love too, but it seems you're pretty sleepy." "Tis a ya-" you tried to respond but could not finish midsentence due to another drowsy yawn, rubbing your eyes at the intensity of the sensation. Garett let out a laugh and ordered with a hint of good-natured authority. "<<print $player_name>>, get back to camp and get some rest!" Your response was a thums up sign without turning around, continuing on your way back to the campgrounds. "Oh - and <<print $player_name>>!" Garett called out before you disappeared into the darkness. "Leave your weapon here and use my tent near the campfire - it's blue!" You gave him one last wave before finally retreating from view. ''(Lucian's POV)'' Your gaze was fixed on <<print $player_name>> as ?mcthey stumbled backward away from you. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Lee stated with a knowing smirk. You gasped in surprise and exclaimed, "What?! No way!" Garett chuckled lightly before saying, "Yeah I can definitely see it!" You protested adamantly, confidently denying their accusation. "Oh Lucian," Lee grinned knowingly, "Garett and I have been sparring together for years now, so we know when the other is throwing a match deliberately." Your eyes widened in surprise and you faltered for a moment, trying to come up with a response. "Okay, maybe I did," you shrugged, breaking out into an embarrassed smile. Garett laughed and slapped your shoulder lightly. "I knew it! Man, Lucian, you've got it bad." The two of them exchanged a knowing look before Lee continued. "Do you have feelings for <<print $player_name>>?" You stuttered, trying desperately to concoct an answer that would make sense without giving away too much. Garett just laughed and shook his head, patting your back as he spoke up. "It's alright Lucian," he said chuckling, "We're all adults here." You looked between the two of them incredulously, but they were both smiling reassuringly. You let out a heavy sigh. "No! I absolutely don't have feelings for ?mcthem!" you balled your fists, digging your nails into your palms as you tried to contain the immense emotion boiling inside of you. "Really?" Lee asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow. He shot Garett a knowing look and he smirked in response. "What about when you threw away the match? Doesn't that mean something to you?" You groaned, these two relentless teases were starting to get on your nerves. With a heavy heart, you admitted, "Maybe...I do have some kind of feeling towards ?mcthem." You held up your pointer finger and thumb together, barely leaving any space between them. Lee and Garett leaned in intently with wide eyes. "There's definitely something wrong with this scale," Lee murmured, worry seeping into his voice. Garett nodded in agreement before gently grasping your hands, slowly separating them until your fingers were spread apart as wide as possible. "Much better!" A blush crept up your cheeks at the intimate gesture. "Stop it guys," you said softly as you brushed their hands away from yours. Garett snickered and Lee chuckled, "Alright alright, we'll leave you be." He adjusted his clothes and placed a hand on your shoulder. "Just remember that if you ever need someone to talk to, we're here for you." You nodded in appreciation before turning away from them. A wave of relief washed over you and you smiled softly as the realization fully sunk in – these two were your friends. You took a deep breath, feeling more content and relieved than ever before. With newfound resolve, you channeled the warmth radiating from Lee and Garett's souls into yourself, ready to take on whatever life threw at you. You turned around with a huge grin on your face, ready to tease these two back just like they had been teasing you earlier. ''(MC's POV) With a weary sigh, you made your way through the campground. All around you, fires were blazing and tents dotting the landscape. You stepped around them carefully, navigating with ease until you found what you were looking for - Garett's blue tent. The sight of it filled made your body feel heavy of the sudden. Taking a deep breath, you walked up to it and pushed aside the canvas flap, before crawling inside and making yourself comfortable in the blankets and pillows scattered throughout. It smelled like campfires and pine trees. You felt safe here and soon enough your eyes became heavy with exhaustion from the long journey home and you drifted off to sleep in the bundles of blankets and fur that seve as your pillow. [[Continue|Morning Bandit Prep 1]] <<elseif $weapon is "spear" >> The air between the two of you crackled with energy. You darted forward, your spear jabbing in the direction of Lucian's short sword. He parried with ease, blocking each strike and then retaliating with his own powerful attacks. He had an impressive command over his body and weapon, executing fast and precise movements as if he were dancing around you. You knew that to win this battle you had to be smart about it – not only did you need speed and power, but also agility and strategy. Lee's teachings began to flow through your veins as if it was second nature. Every time Lucian made a move, you countered it with your own combination of strikes and blocks which created a dazzling display of light reflecting off both weapons as they clashed against each other. Every movement felt like a dance–one misstep or stumble could mean defeat for either one of you. You took deep breaths in between moves to ready yourself for what would come. Garett's voice thunders: "That's right Lucian, dance around him! Move your feet with the grace of a gazelle and use that lightness to defeat <<print $player_name>>!" Lee's words follow quickly after as he yells out his advice "<<print $player_name>>, don't forget - the whole body of the spear is also a weapon - use it like a staff!" You take these words to heart and move your feet faster, alternating between fast and slow steps as you keep up with Lucian's every move. With each strike, your confidence grows until finally - after what feels like an eternity of dancing - you manage to disarm Lucian. You smile in triumph at the same time that Lee did a horrible dance on Garett. "Lucian smiles in admiration, bowing his head slightly in recognition of your impressive display of skill before coming over to shake your hand. "That was quite a battle," he comments, his smile broadening. You grip his hand and shake it. "It was." you smiled at him and let go. "How about another g-" you started speaking but were interrupted by an unexpected yawn, exhaustion abruptly hitting you like a ton of bricks. Lucian smirked knowingly and finished your sentence with a chuckle. "I would love too, but it seems you're pretty sleepy." "Tis a yaw-" you tried to respond but could not finish midsentence due to another drowsy yawn, rubbing your eyes at the intensity of the sensation. Garett let out a laugh and ordered with a hint of good-natured authority. "<<print $player_name>>, get back to camp and get some rest!" Your response was a thums up sign without turning around, continuing on your way back to the campgrounds. "Oh - and <<print $player_name>>!" Garett called out before you disappeared into the darkness. "Leave your weapon here and use my tent near the campfire - it's blue!" You gave him one last wave before finally retreating from view. ''(Lucian's POV)'' Your gaze was fixed on <<print $player_name>> as ?mcthey stumbled backward away from you. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Lee stated with a knowing smirk. You gasped in surprise and exclaimed, "What?! No way!" Garett chuckled lightly before saying, "Yeah I can definitely see it!" You protested adamantly, confidently denying their accusation. "Oh Lucian," Lee grinned knowingly, "Garett and I have been sparring together for years now, so we know when the other is throwing a match deliberately." Your eyes widened in surprise and you faltered for a moment, trying to come up with a response. "Okay, maybe I did," you shrugged, breaking out into an embarrassed smile. Garett laughed and slapped your shoulder lightly. "I knew it! Man, Lucian, you've got it bad." The two of them exchanged a knowing look before Lee continued. "Do you have feelings for <<print $player_name>>?" You stuttered, trying desperately to concoct an answer that would make sense without giving away too much. Garett just laughed and shook his head, patting your back as he spoke up. "It's alright Lucian," he said chuckling, "We're all adults here." You looked between the two of them incredulously, but they were both smiling reassuringly. You let out a heavy sigh. "No! I absolutely don't have feelings for ?mcthem!" you balled your fists, digging your nails into your palms as you tried to contain the immense emotion boiling inside of you. "Really?" Lee asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow. He shot Garett a knowing look and he smirked in response. "What about when you threw away the match? Doesn't that mean something to you?" You groaned, these two relentless teases were starting to get on your nerves. With a heavy heart, you admitted, "Maybe...I do have some kind of feeling towards ?mcthem." You held up your pointer finger and thumb together, barely leaving any space between them. Lee and Garett leaned in intently with wide eyes. "There's definitely something wrong with this scale," Lee murmured, worry seeping into his voice. Garett nodded in agreement before gently grasping your hands, slowly separating them until your fingers were spread apart as wide as possible. "Much better!" A blush crept up your cheeks at the intimate gesture. "Stop it guys," you said softly as you brushed their hands away from yours. Garett snickered and Lee chuckled, "Alright alright, we'll leave you be." He adjusted his clothes and placed a hand on your shoulder. "Just remember that if you ever need someone to talk to, we're here for you." You nodded in appreciation before turning away from them. A wave of relief washed over you and you smiled softly as the realization fully sunk in – these two were your friends. You took a deep breath, feeling more content and relieved than ever before. With newfound resolve, you channeled the warmth radiating from Lee and Garett's souls into yourself, ready to take on whatever life threw at you. You turned around with a huge grin on your face, ready to tease these two back just like they had been teasing you earlier. ''(MC's POV) With a weary sigh, you made your way through the campground. All around you, fires were blazing and tents dotting the landscape. You stepped around them carefully, navigating with ease until you found what you were looking for - Garett's blue tent. The sight of it filled made your body feel heavy of the sudden. Taking a deep breath, you walked up to it and pushed aside the canvas flap, before crawling inside and making yourself comfortable in the blankets and pillows scattered throughout. It smelled like campfires and pine trees. You felt safe here and soon enough your eyes became heavy with exhaustion from the long journey home and you drifted off to sleep in the bundles of blankets and fur that seve as your pillow. [[Continue|Morning Bandit Prep 1]] <<elseif $weapon is "scythe" >> Lucian was on you in an instant. He lunged forward, sword pointed towards your torso while his free hand stretched out towards your face. You moved quickly, ducking to the side and jabbing the handle of your scythe-warhammer at his chest. The force of it startled him and he stumbled back a few steps. You didn't give him a chance to recover though; you were already spinning round with full momentum, swinging the warhammer in a wide arc that finally connected with Lucian's sword as he attempted to block you. The impact produced by their meeting caused sparks to fly through the air and their ringing echoed across the room. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of it all; this was truly combat like no other! Your eyes followed Lucian as he retreated, now forced to defend himself against your flurry of swings and jabs. You could tell that Lee had been teaching you well; each move was precise. "Time your steps and use them to your advantage!" Garett bellows in an authoritative tone. "<<print $player_name>>, be unpredictable while wielding the scythe and catch Lucian off guard by changing the angle of the blade!" Lee follows up with a timely reminder. Lucian quickly rolls over to grab his sword and stands tall and glowering at you with blazing eyes. He holds the sword firmly, ready for the impending battle. You followed the advice of your mentor and kept your movements unpredictable, throwing in some unorthodox moves that seemed to catch Lucian off-guard. His sword was getting slower as he grew more tired and you were beginning to gain the upper hand. With one quick thrust, you managed to land a heavy hit on Lucian's side which knocked him off balance and sent him sprawling onto the ground. You stepped back in surprise, not expecting your attack to be so effective. The battle was over! Lee rush over to you, he patted you on the back and declared loudly "<<print $player_name>> has won!" It was clear that even though you had been an amateur only a few hours ago, Lee's teachings had done wonders for your skills. You reached out your hand to Lucian and offered to help him stand. He smiled thankfully, tightly gripping your arm for support. "How about another g-" you started speaking but were interrupted by an unexpected yawn, exhaustion abruptly hitting you like a ton of bricks. Lucian smirked knowingly and finished your sentence with a chuckle. "I would love too, but it seems you're pretty sleepy." "Tis a ya-" you tried to respond but could not finish midsentence due to another drowsy yawn, rubbing your eyes at the intensity of the sensation. Garett let out a laugh and ordered with a hint of good-natured authority. "<<print $player_name>>, get back to camp and get some rest!" Your response was a thums up sign without turning around, continuing on your way back to the campgrounds. "Oh - and <<print $player_name>>!" Garett called out before you disappeared into the darkness. "Leave your weapon here and use my tent near the campfire - it's blue!" You gave him one last wave before finally retreating from view. ''(Lucian's POV)'' Your gaze was fixed on <<print $player_name>> as he stumbled backward away from you. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Lee stated with a knowing smirk. You gasped in surprise and exclaimed, "What?! No way!" Garett chuckled lightly before saying, "Yeah I can definitely see it!" You protested adamantly, confidently denying their accusation. "Oh Lucian," Lee grinned knowingly, "Garett and I have been sparring together for years now, so we know when the other is throwing a match deliberately." Your eyes widened in surprise and you faltered for a moment, trying to come up with a response. "Okay, maybe I did," you shrugged, breaking out into an embarrassed smile. Garett laughed and slapped your shoulder lightly. "I knew it! Man, Lucian, you've got it bad." The two of them exchanged a knowing look before Lee continued. "Do you have feelings for <<print $player_name>>?" You stuttered, trying desperately to concoct an answer that would make sense without giving away too much. Garett just laughed and shook his head, patting your back as he spoke up. "It's alright Lucian," he said chuckling, "We're all adults here." You looked between the two of them incredulously, but they were both smiling reassuringly. You let out a heavy sigh. "No! I absolutely don't have feelings for ?mcthem!" you balled your fists, digging your nails into your palms as you tried to contain the immense emotion boiling inside of you. "Really?" Lee asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow. He shot Garett a knowing look and he smirked in response. "What about when you threw away the match? Doesn't that mean something to you?" You groaned, these two relentless teases were starting to get on your nerves. With a heavy heart, you admitted, "Maybe...I do have some kind of feeling towards ?mcthem." You held up your pointer finger and thumb together, barely leaving any space between them. Lee and Garett leaned in intently with wide eyes. "There's definitely something wrong with this scale," Lee murmured, worry seeping into his voice. Garett nodded in agreement before gently grasping your hands, slowly separating them until your fingers were spread apart as wide as possible. "Much better!" A blush crept up your cheeks at the intimate gesture. "Stop it guys," you said softly as you brushed their hands away from yours. Garett snickered and Lee chuckled, "Alright alright, we'll leave you be." He adjusted his clothes and placed a hand on your shoulder. "Just remember that if you ever need someone to talk to, we're here for you." You nodded in appreciation before turning away from them. A wave of relief washed over you and you smiled softly as the realization fully sunk in – these two were your friends. You took a deep breath, feeling more content and relieved than ever before. With newfound resolve, you channeled the warmth radiating from Lee and Garett's souls into yourself, ready to take on whatever life threw at you. You turned around with a huge grin on your face, ready to tease these two back just like they had been teasing you earlier. ''(MC's POV) With a weary sigh, you made your way through the campground. All around you, fires were blazing and tents dotting the landscape. You stepped around them carefully, navigating with ease until you found what you were looking for - Garett's blue tent. The sight of it filled made your body feel heavy of the sudden. Taking a deep breath, you walked up to it and pushed aside the canvas flap, before crawling inside and making yourself comfortable in the blankets and pillows scattered throughout. It smelled like campfires and pine trees. You felt safe here and soon enough your eyes became heavy with exhaustion from the long journey home and you drifted off to sleep in the bundles of blankets and fur that seve as your pillow. [[Continue|Morning Bandit Prep 1]] <</if>>

You toss and turn, trying to find a few moments of comfort in the cacophony of the room. Shouts fill your ears as objects crash around you- "Henry fetch me that bucket!" followed by an angry retort-"For the fuck sake Peter!". You bury your head in the pillow, desperate for just five more minutes of rest. Suddenly, a voice pierces through the din like a knife: "Wakey, wakey," Lee's silky tones fill your ears. "5 more minutes!" you plead, only to be met with laughter. "As much as I wanted to give you those 5 minutes, we're leaving in 10!" Lee chides. You slowly peeled open your heavy eyelids and sat up in the tent, squinting as the sun shone through. "Here you go." Lee said quietly, offering you a plate of bacon and beans. You hesitantly accepted it and met Lee's gaze - his eyes were soft despite the roughness of his demeanor. Garett's voice echoes from outside. "Lee, where are you?" "Well, see yah <<print $player_name>>," he flashed a crooked smile before turning towards the shout of Garett's voice. With a wave, he left you alone with the plate. The food was plain and unappetizing, but it still managed to fill some of the hunger pangs deep inside you. Holding an empty plate in hand, you stood up and made your way outside. The crisp morning air felt refreshing against your skin as you spotted a man washing utensils near a bin filled with water - that must be where dirty plates are washed. With an understanding nod, you placed your plate there too. As you made your way back to your tent, you noticed a figure in the distance. It was Lee, and he was standing by the riverbank. Without really thinking, you found yourself walking towards him. As you got closer, you could see that he was deep in thought, his eyes fixed on the water. You hesitated for a moment, but then decided to speak up. "Hey," you said softly. Lee turned to you and smiled. "Hey," he replied. "Did you enjoy your breakfast?" You shrugged. "It was alright, I guess." He chuckled. "Well, it's better than nothing." You both stood there in silence for a moment, watching the river flow by. It was a peaceful moment, and you felt a sense of calm wash over you. "So what now?" you ask. Lee looks at you with a faraway expression and speaks wistfully. "We journey on for another five hours or so, and then we shall finally reach our destination and conclude our business there." "Conclude? As in part ways?" you inquire. Lee shrugs his broad shoulders. "It's up to you, my friend. We can part ways if you wish, but if you decide to stay in the kingdom for a while longer, we could certainly use your help." Your mind races with thoughts of what might lie ahead. Should I stay or go? The decision weighs heavily upon you. Suddenly, the sound of Garett's voice breaks through the silence. "Come on, you two! Let's go! We're still a few miles away from Tiara!" "You heard him," says Lee with a smile. "As for your decision, why not wait until we get to Tiara before making up your mind? Perhaps seeing the kingdom will inspire you one way or another." he walked past you. Your heart dropped at the realization of your situation. You wanted to explore and understand the kingdom but your stomach churned as though it had been wrung by an unseen force. “What have the Gods done to my fate? Do I even have a choice on the matter?” Garett jolted you out of your thoughts with his overly optimistic tones, “Morning <<print $player_name>>! So you know what to do! Get into position.” You nodded your head, setting out to find Beatrice. You skilfully maneuvered the campgrounds; sidestepping people and lending a hand to a man who was barely able to keep his towering stack of crates from collapsing. "Thanks!" he said, before continuing on his way. Finally, after what felt like eons of searching, you found Beatrice tied to a tree and nonchalantly grazing on some grass near the dirt path. "There you are! I've been looking for you!" you exclaimed in relief, quickly untying her reins from the branch. Beatrice kept nibbling on her grass while watching you with mild curiosity. "C'mon now," you hummed gently, guiding Beatrice back onto the road and tying her postion at the front where you had been placed earlier. “Did you sleep well, <<print $player_name>>?” Lucian asked with an eager smirk. “Very well,” you said in response, hopping onto Beatrice with a bold leap. "Me too." he smiled mischievously. You outreached your hand to Lucian's, but he waived it off. "I think I'll be walking today," he declared, pointing to the bow on his back and the short sword buckled to his hip. Garett bellowed loudly, causing everyone to go silent instantaneously. “ATTENTION! FORWARD MARCH!” he commanded, you give Beatrice a swift kick to her side and urging it forward. The convoy burst into motion. The sun was just beginning to peek through the gaps of the thick forest canopy, casting its golden rays on the lush greenery below. You were in awe at the beauty of your surroundings, listening to chirps and tweets of birdsong as Beatrice galloped steadily ahead. “Slow down everyone! We’ve got company.” The voice of Garett booms out. The convoy stops dead in its tracks and a breathless silence falls over the group. “What do you think is going on?” Lucian whispers, his brown eyes clouded with concern. You take a quick survey of your surroundings before marching to the front to investigate further. “You go ahead, I'll stay here and protect our backs," Lucian says, quickly drawing an arrow from his quiver and fitting it to the bowstring. As you drew closer, you realized that they were 3 men with rugged features on their face and wearing simple clothing made from animal hide and swords strapped to their hips. They stood silently with their arms crossed over their chests watching you intently without moving a muscle or saying a word. Getting closer to them, a sinister grin spreads across the face of one of the men. "Nice convoy you got there!" he sneers with an eery chuckle. "Would be a shame if something happened to it," the second man adds, his voice dripping with malice. "State your business!" Garett shouts out a demand for explanation, but his words are met only with a shrill whistle. In a flash of movement, men burst from the foliage on either side, bows and crossbows raised and arrows locked in place on the strings. Fear and dread course through everyone as the group stands firm, waiting for whatever comes next. Garett’s voice cut through the tension like a knife and he addressed the leader of the bandits in a surprisingly calm manner. “What do you want? We can come to an agreement without any more bloodshed. Just tell me what it is you need, and I will do my best to provide it for you.” The leader stared at him for a moment before responding in a gruff voice “We seek revenge against those who wronged us...and their goods are just gravy on top! So we suggest you hand over your valuables or else suffer our wrath!” You looked to the side and noticed that some of the attackers were suddenly vanishing, as if they were being plucked away by an unseen demon. You went to speak, but Lee glanced at you warningly, pressing a finger to his lips as a silent plea for silence. "Hey what's the twos of you talking about there?" the leader barked. "Nothing much!" Lee shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. One of the men lurched forward and punched Lee in the cheek, hard enough to make a sickening thud reverberate across the space. "Answer propery when the Chief is asking you!" the thug growled menacingly. "Lee!" Garett shouted with alarm. "I'm alright boss just a scatrch." He forced a chuckle before he was met with another blow, this time a kick directly to his stomach. Pain lanced through his body as he doubled over. Lee was on the ground gasping for air after a powerful kick to his stomach. Anger surges through you, you look at Lee and see him holding his side in agony and trying to hold back tears of pain. [[Punch the attacker]] [[Rush to Lee and help him get up]] [[Laugh and tell the bandit how screwed they are]]

"You okay?" you quickly rush to Lee's side and helping him sit up. "I'm fine, I have been in more worse shit than this!" he stands up and you aided him to stand back to his feet. "Stand up I'm still not done with yah!"the bandit growls mockingly. You walked forward but Lee hold your shoulder in place. "What do you think you're doing?" he ask with a eyebrow raised. "Gonna beat up his ass!" you say. "Have fun then and try to avenge my honor and pride would you? Lee chuckles. "Huh? What did you say?" the bandit walked closer tauntingly. You and Lee nod head in understanding and the both of you. [[Punched the bandit in the face|Punch the attacker]]

Garett's face contorts into an inferno of fury and worry for his partner, and a matching fire ignites inside you. You stride closer to the bandit, "So you want a pi-" your fist slams into his face with a sickening squelch and he flies backward onto the ground. "SON OF A BITCH!" the bandit bellows, spitting blood and broken teeth onto the dirt. "You're dead meat you hear me!" His body shaking with rage, the bandit pulls out a long, curved knife and begins twirling it between his fingers. "<<print $player_name>>!" Lee speaks from behind you. "Your weapon is on the cart!" He points to an object in the distance. You rush towards it, snatching up your weapon as rage courses through your veins. Brandishing it before the bandit, you stand ready for battle. <<if $weapon == "sword" >> The bandit steps forward, the curved blade glinting menacingly in the sunlight. He holds it up before him, taunting you with its razor-sharp edge. You can feel your heart racing as you take a deep breath and prepare for what is to come. You know one mistake could cost you your life and so every move must be precise, calculated and powerful. You launch towards the bandit, swinging your sword with all of your strength. The bandit ducks and weaves out of the way of each strike, barely staying ahead of your attacks. He tries to get in close but he misjudges his timing and your sword grazes his side, drawing a thin line of blood across his skin. Enraged, he retaliates by slashing at you with his knife again and again until finally getting close enough to land a blow on your shoulder. Your hand goes numb from the impact and you step back instinctively as both combatants pause for breath. "You're good kid but not good enough!" the bandit taunts and charging once again at you. You can feel the adrenaline pumping through your body as you prepare for the fight of your life. You move swiftly and gracefully, blocking each strike with expert precision. The clang of metal echoes in the air as both of you battle relentlessly. Your strength is waning from exhaustion but you press on, determined to come out victorious. The bandit steps back for a moment, breathing heavily and trying to catch his breath. This is your chance - you lunge forward, thrusting your sword towards the bandit's chest. He attempts to dodge at the last second but it is too late; he collapses onto the ground and his knife skids across the dirt. Your heart is beating wildly as you stand over him, gazing down upon him with a look of triumph in your eyes. You have defeated him and now he lies helpless before you with his weapon out of reach. You raise your sword and point it towards his throat, ready to end this fight permanently if you wish to. The bandit raised his hand in surrender. "Easy now, we don't wanna do things that we're gonna regret later." he says, voice cracking with fear. [[Kill him]] [[Spare him]] <<elseif $weapon is "spear" >> The bandit charges forward, knife slicing through the air as he approaches. You pivot deftly and thrust your spear towards his throat. He ducks beneath it, but not before you feel the tip of your weapon graze against his neck. The bandit retaliates with a powerful downward slash of his knife, aiming for your shoulder. You roll out of its path and feel the blade barely miss you as it scrapes against the ground. Time seems to still as you both face off in a deadly duel. The sounds of birds chirping in the trees and grass rustling in the wind are only background noise to this intense struggle between life and death. Sweat drips from your forehead as you spin around, rotating your spear up to meet his knife midair once again. "You're good kid but not good enough!" the bandit taunts and charging once again at you. This time you stand your ground, allowing him to come closer. As he thrusts the knife forward, you twist and parry with your spear, knocking the blade out of his hands and sending it clattering onto the ground. You point the sharp tip of the spear against his throat. The bandit raised his hand in surrender. "Easy now, we don't wanna do things that we're gonna regret later." he says, voice cracking with fear. [[Kill him]] [[Spare him]] <<elseif $weapon is "scythe" >> The sun glints off the sharp edges of the scythe war hammer as you grip it tightly. You turn and face the bandit, both of you standing still in anticipation for a few tense moments. The bandit charges forward with a battle cry and scrambles towards you with his knife raised high. You swing your weapon hard and fast, catching him in the shoulder before he can reach you. He cries out in pain as blood sprays from the wound. "You're good kid but not good enough!" the bandit taunts and gauging you. He presses his hand against his gushing wound and takes a step back, breathing heavily as he contemplates whether to press on or retreat. The air around is thick with tension as both of you circle each other searching for weaknesses to exploit. Suddenly, he lunges forwards again, aiming his blade at your chest like an arrow ready to be fired. Instinctively, you raise your weapon to block him. The two weapons collide with a loud clang, sparks flying from the blades as they grind against each other. You push forward with all your strength, feeling the weight of your weapon in your hands as you strive to gain dominance. The bandit grunts and releases his grip on his knife which is sent skittering across the ground. With a deep exhale, you lower your scythe war hammer and point its blade at the bandit's throat. He stares up at you with a mixture of fear and awe in his eyes. "You lost," you say firmly before moving back and allowing him to stand once more. He nods slowly in understanding. The bandit raised his hand in surrender. "Easy now, we don't wanna do things that we're gonna regret later." he says, voice cracking with fear. [[Kill him]] [[Spare him]] <</if>>

"You think you're tough?" you sneer as the bandit steps closer. "<<print $player_name>>, don't!" Lee protests, but it's too late. The bandit growls, his lips pulled back in a snarl to reveal yellowed teeth. "The only thing that's gonna get messed up here is you!" "Is that so?" You rise to your feet and challenge him with a hardened stare. "Where's your chief now? I'd like to have a word with him." A silence falls as the bandit turns around to see his leader tied up and helpless on the ground. "Hey fuck face!" you shout and the bandit whirls around, a savage rage burning in his eyes. [[You punched him in the face|Punch the attacker]]

"You're right!" you snarl and lower your weapon slightly. The bandit's eyes widen in terror, their hand trembling as they attempt to raise it in surrender. "You're right that I'm probably gonna regret this later!" In a split second, you lunge forward and thrust the tip of your weapon into the bandits throat, an eruption of blood spurting from their neck like a raging fountain. It drenches your face, blinding you with its crimson redness but you remain unfazed. The bandit gasps, grasping at their throat in desperation as they try to pry away the weapon that is slowly killing them. You press down even harder, watching the life drain from their eyes as your weapon buries itself deeper and deeper into them until their hands go limp and their body falls to the ground. "Yikes! Remind me to not get on your bad side!" a voice chuckles, you turned around and wiping the blood of your face and see a figure approaching you wearing a cloak and a mask on their face. "Who are you?" Lee demanded, stepping closer to the stranger. The person shook their head mockingly. "Lee! I'm hurt that you already forgotten about me!" they cackled, slowly lifting the mask away from their face with a tantalizingly slow motion. "Rick!" Lee growled, his muscles tensing in rage at the sight of his nemesis. The air crackled with electric tension as they stood, toe-to-toe. "Nice to meet you too Lee!" Rick grins. "The fates have a sick sense of humur don't they? Lee!" Rick continues. As Rick stands with a cocky grin on his face, a voice comes towards them. "Rick is everything alright here?" The figure stops in their tracks."Lee?" it asked. "Wait that voice!" Lee exclaims. "Lily?" Lee said in disbelief. The figure reaches up to remove their mask, revealing Lily's beautiful face underneath. Her eyes were filled with an intensity that radiates from her very soul. Garett's eyes blaze with suspicion as he strides towards Lily, demanding to know what she was doing there. "What are you doing here Lily?" he says in a tone that could cut through steel. "Oh, so you three have already met," Rick chimes in with a smug grin on his face. "That will save us the trouble of introductions." Lee turns to Lily and growls out her name. "More importantly, what are you doing with Rick?" Lily squares her shoulders and meets Lee's gaze boldly. "Me and Rick are in a relationship Lee," she declares without a hint of hesitation. Lee bursts into a fit of maniacal laughter. "You're joking right?" He starts to lunge at Rick but Garett grabs him by the shoulder and holds him back. "No she is not joking, me and Lily really are in love!" Rick drawls as he steps closer to Lily and wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her close. A deep rumble emits from Lee as he bares his teeth at Rick. "Don't you touch her or so help me God I will kill you!" he snarls before Garett pushes him away forcefully. Garett's voice thunders through the clearing, a warning and an ultimatum to Lee. "Don't make me take you down love, we have already shed blood! Turn back now or face my wrath." He sets his gaze on him, his eyes hard as diamonds. His fingers curl into tight fists at his side as he continues, "And I will not let you kill the man who rescued us!" There is a moment of silence as Lee stares back, until finally he grunts. "Orders received Boss!". "At least, there is one person who is civil and resonable here!" Rick rolls his eyes. [[Thank you for saving us]] [[I'm <<print $player_name>> nice to meet you]] [[I don't know what Lily sees in you that made her fall in love with you?]] [[Are you that numb and stupid?]]

With a menacing laugh you let out an evil chuckle and declare "You're right!" You lower your weapon, but with speed of lightning, you raise your hand and deliver a vicious punch to the bandit's face. He stumbles backwards, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he is knocked out cold. "But you no one said that I can't pummel your stupid face." "Thank you very much but we will take it from here!" a voice chuckles, you turned around and wiping the blood of your face and see a figure approaching you wearing a cloak and a mask on their face. "Who are you?" Lee demanded, stepping closer to the stranger. The person shook their head mockingly. "Lee! I'm hurt that you already forgotten about me!" they cackled, slowly lifting the mask away from their face with a tantalizingly slow motion. "Rick!" Lee growled, his muscles tensing in rage at the sight of his nemesis. The air crackled with electric tension as they stood, toe-to-toe. "Nice to meet you too Lee!" Rick grins. "The fates have a sick sense of humur don't they? Lee!" Rick continues. As Rick stands with a cocky grin on his face, a voice comes towards them. "Rick is everything alright here?" The figure stops in their tracks."Lee?" it asked. "Wait that voice!" Lee exclaims. "Lily?" Lee said in disbelief. The figure reaches up to remove their mask, revealing Lily's beautiful face underneath. Her eyes were filled with an intensity that radiates from her very soul. Garett's eyes blaze with suspicion as he strides towards Lily, demanding to know what she was doing there. "What are you doing here Lily?" he says in a tone that could cut through steel. "Oh, so you three have already met," Rick chimes in with a smug grin on his face. "That will save us the trouble of introductions." Lee turns to Lily and growls out her name. "More importantly, what are you doing with Rick?" Lily squares her shoulders and meets Lee's gaze boldly. "Me and Rick are in a relationship Lee," she declares without a hint of hesitation. Lee bursts into a fit of maniacal laughter. "You're joking right?" He starts to lunge at Rick but Garett grabs him by the shoulder and holds him back. "No she is not joking, me and Lily really are in love!" Rick drawls as he steps closer to Lily and wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her close. A deep rumble emits from Lee as he bares his teeth at Rick. "Don't you touch her or so help me God I will kill you!" he snarls before Garett pushes him away forcefully. Garett's voice thunders through the clearing, a warning and an ultimatum to Lee. "Don't make me take you down love, we have already shed blood! Turn back now or face my wrath." He sets his gaze on him, his eyes hard as diamonds. His fingers curl into tight fists at his side as he continues, "And I will not let you kill the man who rescued us!" There is a moment of silence as Lee stares back, until finally he grunts. "Orders received Boss!". "At least, there is one person who is civil and resonable here!" Rick rolls his eyes. [[Thank you for saving us]] [[I'm <<print $player_name>> nice to meet you]] [[I don't know what Lily sees in you that made her fall in love with you?]] [[Are you that numb and stupid?]]

You stepped closer to Rick and extended your bloodied hand. "Thank you for saving us," you said with a weak smile. Ray cautiously looked at your hand before shaking it, his expression serious. "Let's try to keep this civil between us two." he said, grinning at you. "<<print $player_name>>, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Lee shouted in disbelief. "Why are you shaking hands with the one who's friend killed my mother?!" His face was contorted with rage, veins pulsing from his neck. "Hey Lee, I know you two have issues but Rick and I don't!" You quickly interjected. "You killed my friend!!" Rick bellowed and stepped away from Lily, his eyes narrowing as he advanced towards Lee. "You humans are so noisy," Variel's voice sliced through the air, dripping with irritation and anger. "<<print $player_name>>, are you alright?" Lucian questioned quietly. Rick quickly backed away from the imposing figure before him, stammering out his questions. "Who is she? Why does she look like that? Why is her dress red?" Lee chuckled softly at the sight of Variel. "That's our guest dragoness." Lily stared at Variel in awe. "You're a dragon?" Variel responded curtly, crossing her arms, her annoyance palpable. "Yes, human. Can someone explain why we are still standing here and why you are fighting each other?" Seizing the opportunity to take control of the situation, you stepped forward, meeting Variel's gaze. Your voice was strong and clear as you began to recount the events that had led to this moment. As Variel listened intently, the weight of understanding slowly settled in her eyes, illuminating her features. With a nod that was both deliberate and measured, she turned her attention to the group, her voice carrying a firm yet sympathetic tone, tinged with a hint of anger that had softened since before. "It seems like we have more important matters to attend to than squabbling amongst ourselves," she declared firmly, her anger subsiding but still evident. She approached Rick and Lee, her fiery hand a potent reminder of her power. "Now let us put this behind us, or I will make the both of you pay dearly for delaying the journey," Variel warned, flames dancing in her palm. Rick and Lee hastened to comply, their voices filled with urgency. "Got it!" Rick exclaimed, while Lee echoed, "Understood!" Their eyes met briefly, sharing a mutual understanding of the seriousness of the situation. "Now do what humans do when they agree on something!" At Variel's command, they reluctantly extended their hands and shook them vigorously, their white-knuckled grip showing their determination to make amends. "With that settled," Variel turned her attention to Garett, her voice cutting through the air like steel demanding obedience. "Garett, get this convoy moving now!" Her order was clear and resolute as she strode away from the group. Lily took a deep breath, still feeling the weight of the dragon's presence in the air. She couldn't help but muse, "Well, that was something I didn't expect today." Garett, caught off guard by Rick and Lee's lingering handshake, snapped into action. "You two, let go of each other!" It took both Garett and Lily's efforts to finally pry them apart. Rick, once more hidden beneath his hood, addressed the group. "It was great meeting everyone, but I think we must part ways for now." Garett seemed surprised and questioned, "Wait! You're not coming with us?" Lee added his plea, saying, "Please don't! As much as we'd like to, we still need to regroup before going to the kingdom." Lily chimed in, explaining, "We have some things to do before we can join you. We need to gather supplies and collect our bounty for these bandits." "Get moving, men!" Rick called out to his troops. Garett nodded with a slight smile and extended a warm invitation. "If you ever come to Tiara, just say 'Garett Pierce,' and I'll welcome you with open arms." Lily turned to him, her eyes shimmering with gratitude as she offered him a warm smile. With a gentle nudge, she playfully bumped his stomach, a silent gesture to express her thanks. Rick, his head bowing slightly, accepted her gratitude with a soft nod. "And if we do make it there," Rick began to respond, but before he could utter a word, Lee burst in with an infectious excitement. "We would love to join you!" Lee exclaimed. Rick roll his eyes. "Splendid!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with mock joy. Lee mirrored his sarcastic excitement. "Wonderful!" he chimed in. Rick, unable to resist the challenge , bellowed, "Magnificent!" Lee, not one to back down, gushed, "Grand!" The air echoed with a chorus of exclamations, until Lucian, attempting to contribute, "Impressive!" was quickly silenced by Rick and Lee's united demand. "Shut up!" Lily, sensing the playful(dark) tension reaching its peak, firmly grasped Rick's arm and began to lead him away, while Garett did the same to Lee. The two pairs exchanged smoldering glares, their unspoken rivalry palpable, until they disappeared from each other's sight. Lucian, wide-eyed and captivated, watched the scene unfold before him. A mixture of awe and concern filled his voice as he finally spoke, "Those two have some issues." As Lucian turned to leave, his gaze fell upon the dried blood on your face for the first time. Worry lines creased his forehead as genuine concern washed over him. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine worry. You quickly reassured him, "Oh, this? It's not mine." Lucian's relief was evident, but his gaze lingered for a moment, his eyes searching for any signs of hidden pain, before he finally left, leaving you alone to ponder over the strange intensity of his expression. [[Continue|Getting Close To The End]]

Venom dripped from your words as you spat, "Are you that numb and stupid?" Rick raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "And you are?" he inquired. Lee, seemingly eager to introduce you, declared proudly, "That would be <<print $player_name>>, our dragon tracker." Garett, sensing the growing tension, intervened calmly. "Okay, it seems we got off on the wrong foot here. Yes, I agree, let's start anew." Lily joined in, attempting to defuse the mounting hostility. Lee's response, however, was far from conciliatory. He sneered in a darker tone, "Oh trust me, bad footing is not the only problem here!" Rick couldn't resist taunting him, a cruel grin on his face. "Someone is still having mommy issues." Lee's rage boiled over, and he shouted, "Don't you dare! Your friend killed my mother!" "You killed my friend!" Rick thundered, stepping away from Lily, his eyes narrowing as he advanced towards Lee. Variel's patience wore thin as she interjected with irritation, her voice cutting through the tension. "You humans are so noisy." Lucian, concerned for your well-being, inquired quietly, "<<print $player_name>>, are you alright?" Rick quickly retreated from the imposing figure before him, stuttering out his questions. "Who is she? Why does she look like that? Why is her dress red?" Lee, amused by the situation, chuckled softly. "That's our guest dragoness." Lily stared at Variel in awe. "You're a dragon?" Variel responded curtly, crossing her arms, her annoyance palpable. "Yes, human. Can someone explain why we are still standing here and why you are fighting each other?" Seizing the opportunity to take control of the situation, you stepped forward, meeting Variel's gaze. Your voice was strong and clear as you began to recount the events that had led to this moment. As Variel listened intently, the weight of understanding slowly settled in her eyes, illuminating her features. With a nod that was both deliberate and measured, she turned her attention to the group, her voice carrying a firm yet sympathetic tone, tinged with a hint of anger that had softened since before. "It seems like we have more important matters to attend to than squabbling amongst ourselves," she declared firmly, her anger subsiding but still evident. She approached Rick and Lee, her fiery hand a potent reminder of her power. "Now let us put this behind us, or I will make the both of you pay dearly for delaying the journey," Variel warned, flames dancing in her palm. Rick and Lee hastened to comply, their voices filled with urgency. "Got it!" Rick exclaimed, while Lee echoed, "Understood!" Their eyes met briefly, sharing a mutual understanding of the seriousness of the situation. "Now do what humans do when they agree on something!" At Variel's command, they reluctantly extended their hands and shook them vigorously, their white-knuckled grip showing their determination to make amends. "With that settled," Variel turned her attention to Garett, her voice cutting through the air like steel demanding obedience. "Garett, get this convoy moving now!" Her order was clear and resolute as she strode away from the group. Lily took a deep breath, still feeling the weight of the dragon's presence in the air. She couldn't help but muse, "Well, that was something I didn't expect today." Garett, caught off guard by Rick and Lee's lingering handshake, snapped into action. "You two, let go of each other!" It took both Garett and Lily's efforts to finally pry them apart. Rick, once more hidden beneath his hood, addressed the group. "It was great meeting everyone, but I think we must part ways for now." Garett seemed surprised and questioned, "Wait! You're not coming with us?" Lee added his plea, saying, "Please don't! As much as we'd like to, we still need to regroup before going to the kingdom." Lily chimed in, explaining, "We have some things to do before we can join you. We need to gather supplies and collect our bounty for these bandits." "Get moving, men!" Rick called out to his troops. Garett nodded with a slight smile and extended a warm invitation. "If you ever come to Tiara, just say 'Garett Pierce,' and I'll welcome you with open arms." Lily turned to him, her eyes shimmering with gratitude as she offered him a warm smile. With a gentle nudge, she playfully bumped his stomach, a silent gesture to express her thanks. Rick, his head bowing slightly, accepted her gratitude with a soft nod. "And if we do make it there," Rick began to respond, but before he could utter a word, Lee burst in with an infectious excitement. "We would love to join you!" Lee exclaimed. Rick roll his eyes. "Splendid!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with mock joy. Lee mirrored his sarcastic excitement. "Wonderful!" he chimed in. Rick, unable to resist the challenge , bellowed, "Magnificent!" Lee, not one to back down, gushed, "Grand!" The air echoed with a chorus of exclamations, until Lucian, attempting to contribute, "Impressive!" was quickly silenced by Rick and Lee's united demand. "Shut up!" Lily, sensing the playful(dark) tension reaching its peak, firmly grasped Rick's arm and began to lead him away, while Garett did the same to Lee. The two pairs exchanged smoldering glares, their unspoken rivalry palpable, until they disappeared from each other's sight. Lucian, wide-eyed and captivated, watched the scene unfold before him. A mixture of awe and concern filled his voice as he finally spoke, "Those two have some issues." As Lucian turned to leave, his gaze fell upon the dried blood on your face for the first time. Worry lines creased his forehead as genuine concern washed over him. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine worry. You quickly reassured him, "Oh, this? It's not mine." Lucian's relief was evident, but his gaze lingered for a moment, his eyes searching for any signs of hidden pain, before he finally left, leaving you alone to ponder over the strange intensity of his expression. [[Continue|Getting Close To The End]]

You spat venomously, "I don't know what Lily sees in you that made her fall in love with you!" "And you are?" Rick inquires with a raise of his eyebrow. "That will be <<print $player_name>>, our dragon tracker," Lee boasted, introducing you. "Okay, it seems we got off on the wrong foot here," Garett interjected. "Yes, I agree, let's start anew." Lily seconds his proposition, trying to diffuse the tension. "Oh trust me, bad footing is not the only problem here!" Lee snarled in a darker tone. "Someone is still having mommy issues," Rick taunted cruelly. "Don't you dare!" Lee shouted. "Your friend killed my mother!" "You killed my friend!!" Rick bellowed and stepped away from Lily, his eyes narrowing as he advanced towards Lee. "You humans are so noisy," Variel's voice sliced through the air, dripping with irritation and anger. "<<print $player_name>>, are you alright?" Lucian questioned quietly. Rick quickly backed away from the imposing figure before him, stammering out his questions. "Who is she? Why does she look like that? Why is her dress red?" Lee chuckled softly at the sight of Variel. "That's our guest dragoness." Lily stared at Variel in awe. "You're a dragon?" Variel responded curtly, crossing her arms, her annoyance palpable. "Yes, human. Can someone explain why we are still standing here and why you are fighting each other?" Seizing the opportunity to take control of the situation, you stepped forward, meeting Variel's gaze. Your voice was strong and clear as you began to recount the events that had led to this moment. As Variel listened intently, the weight of understanding slowly settled in her eyes, illuminating her features. With a nod that was both deliberate and measured, she turned her attention to the group, her voice carrying a firm yet sympathetic tone, tinged with a hint of anger that had softened since before. "It seems like we have more important matters to attend to than squabbling amongst ourselves," she declared firmly, her anger subsiding but still evident. She approached Rick and Lee, her fiery hand a potent reminder of her power. "Now let us put this behind us, or I will make the both of you pay dearly for delaying the journey," Variel warned, flames dancing in her palm. Rick and Lee hastened to comply, their voices filled with urgency. "Got it!" Rick exclaimed, while Lee echoed, "Understood!" Their eyes met briefly, sharing a mutual understanding of the seriousness of the situation. "Now do what humans do when they agree on something!" At Variel's command, they reluctantly extended their hands and shook them vigorously, their white-knuckled grip showing their determination to make amends. "With that settled," Variel turned her attention to Garett, her voice cutting through the air like steel demanding obedience. "Garett, get this convoy moving now!" Her order was clear and resolute as she strode away from the group. Lily took a deep breath, still feeling the weight of the dragon's presence in the air. She couldn't help but muse, "Well, that was something I didn't expect today." Garett, caught off guard by Rick and Lee's lingering handshake, snapped into action. "You two, let go of each other!" It took both Garett and Lily's efforts to finally pry them apart. Rick, once more hidden beneath his hood, addressed the group. "It was great meeting everyone, but I think we must part ways for now." Garett seemed surprised and questioned, "Wait! You're not coming with us?" Lee added his plea, saying, "Please don't! As much as we'd like to, we still need to regroup before going to the kingdom." Lily chimed in, explaining, "We have some things to do before we can join you. We need to gather supplies and collect our bounty for these bandits." "Get moving, men!" Rick called out to his troops. Garett nodded with a slight smile and extended a warm invitation. "If you ever come to Tiara, just say 'Garett Pierce,' and I'll welcome you with open arms." Lily turned to him, her eyes shimmering with gratitude as she offered him a warm smile. With a gentle nudge, she playfully bumped his stomach, a silent gesture to express her thanks. Rick, his head bowing slightly, accepted her gratitude with a soft nod. "And if we do make it there," Rick began to respond, but before he could utter a word, Lee burst in with an infectious excitement. "We would love to join you!" Lee exclaimed. Rick roll his eyes. "Splendid!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with mock joy. Lee mirrored his sarcastic excitement. "Wonderful!" he chimed in. Rick, unable to resist the challenge , bellowed, "Magnificent!" Lee, not one to back down, gushed, "Grand!" The air echoed with a chorus of exclamations, until Lucian, attempting to contribute, "Impressive!" was quickly silenced by Rick and Lee's united demand. "Shut up!" Lily, sensing the playful(dark) tension reaching its peak, firmly grasped Rick's arm and began to lead him away, while Garett did the same to Lee. The two pairs exchanged smoldering glares, their unspoken rivalry palpable, until they disappeared from each other's sight. Lucian, wide-eyed and captivated, watched the scene unfold before him. A mixture of awe and concern filled his voice as he finally spoke, "Those two have some issues." As Lucian turned to leave, his gaze fell upon the dried blood on your face for the first time. Worry lines creased his forehead as genuine concern washed over him. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine worry. You quickly reassured him, "Oh, this? It's not mine." Lucian's relief was evident, but his gaze lingered for a moment, his eyes searching for any signs of hidden pain, before he finally left, leaving you alone to ponder over the strange intensity of his expression. [[Continue|Getting Close To The End]]

You stepped closer to Rick and extended your bloodied hand. "I'm <<print $player_name>> nice to meet you." you said with a weak smile. Ray cautiously looked at your hand before shaking it, his expression serious. "Let's try to keep this civil between us two." he said, grinning at you. "<<print $player_name>>, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Lee shouted in disbelief. "Why are you shaking hands with the one who's friend killed my mother?!" His face was contorted with rage, veins pulsing from his neck. "Hey Lee, I know you two have issues but Rick and I don't!" You quickly interjected. "You killed my friend!!" Rick bellowed and stepped away from Lily, his eyes narrowing as he advanced towards Lee. "You humans are so noisy," Variel's voice sliced through the air, dripping with irritation and anger. "<<print $player_name>>, are you alright?" Lucian questioned quietly. Rick quickly backed away from the imposing figure before him, stammering out his questions. "Who is she? Why does she look like that? Why is her dress red?" Lee chuckled softly at the sight of Variel. "That's our guest dragoness." Lily stared at Variel in awe. "You're a dragon?" Variel responded curtly, crossing her arms, her annoyance palpable. "Yes, human. Can someone explain why we are still standing here and why you are fighting each other?" Seizing the opportunity to take control of the situation, you stepped forward, meeting Variel's gaze. Your voice was strong and clear as you began to recount the events that had led to this moment. As Variel listened intently, the weight of understanding slowly settled in her eyes, illuminating her features. With a nod that was both deliberate and measured, she turned her attention to the group, her voice carrying a firm yet sympathetic tone, tinged with a hint of anger that had softened since before. "It seems like we have more important matters to attend to than squabbling amongst ourselves," she declared firmly, her anger subsiding but still evident. She approached Rick and Lee, her fiery hand a potent reminder of her power. "Now let us put this behind us, or I will make the both of you pay dearly for delaying the journey," Variel warned, flames dancing in her palm. Rick and Lee hastened to comply, their voices filled with urgency. "Got it!" Rick exclaimed, while Lee echoed, "Understood!" Their eyes met briefly, sharing a mutual understanding of the seriousness of the situation. "Now do what humans do when they agree on something!" At Variel's command, they reluctantly extended their hands and shook them vigorously, their white-knuckled grip showing their determination to make amends. "With that settled," Variel turned her attention to Garett, her voice cutting through the air like steel demanding obedience. "Garett, get this convoy moving now!" Her order was clear and resolute as she strode away from the group. Lily took a deep breath, still feeling the weight of the dragon's presence in the air. She couldn't help but muse, "Well, that was something I didn't expect today." Garett, caught off guard by Rick and Lee's lingering handshake, snapped into action. "You two, let go of each other!" It took both Garett and Lily's efforts to finally pry them apart. Rick, once more hidden beneath his hood, addressed the group. "It was great meeting everyone, but I think we must part ways for now." Garett seemed surprised and questioned, "Wait! You're not coming with us?" Lee added his plea, saying, "Please don't! As much as we'd like to, we still need to regroup before going to the kingdom." Lily chimed in, explaining, "We have some things to do before we can join you. We need to gather supplies and collect our bounty for these bandits." "Get moving, men!" Rick called out to his troops. Garett nodded with a slight smile and extended a warm invitation. "If you ever come to Tiara, just say 'Garett Pierce,' and I'll welcome you with open arms." Lily turned to him, her eyes shimmering with gratitude as she offered him a warm smile. With a gentle nudge, she playfully bumped his stomach, a silent gesture to express her thanks. Rick, his head bowing slightly, accepted her gratitude with a soft nod. "And if we do make it there," Rick began to respond, but before he could utter a word, Lee burst in with an infectious excitement. "We would love to join you!" Lee exclaimed. Rick roll his eyes. "Splendid!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with mock joy. Lee mirrored his sarcastic excitement. "Wonderful!" he chimed in. Rick, unable to resist the challenge , bellowed, "Magnificent!" Lee, not one to back down, gushed, "Grand!" The air echoed with a chorus of exclamations, until Lucian, attempting to contribute, "Impressive!" was quickly silenced by Rick and Lee's united demand. "Shut up!" Lily, sensing the playful(dark) tension reaching its peak, firmly grasped Rick's arm and began to lead him away, while Garett did the same to Lee. The two pairs exchanged smoldering glares, their unspoken rivalry palpable, until they disappeared from each other's sight. Lucian, wide-eyed and captivated, watched the scene unfold before him. A mixture of awe and concern filled his voice as he finally spoke, "Those two have some issues." As Lucian turned to leave, his gaze fell upon the dried blood on your face for the first time. Worry lines creased his forehead as genuine concern washed over him. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine worry. You quickly reassured him, "Oh, this? It's not mine." Lucian's relief was evident, but his gaze lingered for a moment, his eyes searching for any signs of hidden pain, before he finally left, leaving you alone to ponder over the strange intensity of his expression. [[Continue|Getting Close To The End]]

"<<print $player_name>>, get on board and help me keep Lee in check," Garett insists, his tone filled with determination. "Alright, let me get Beatrice for a minute." With a mischievous smirk, he whistles sharply. "Beatrice, to me!" The sound of powerful, trotting hooves resonates through the air as Beatrice appears and stands before you, letting out a hearty neigh. You stand in awe, admiring her beauty and strength. "Show me how to do that," you pant breathlessly at Garett's feet. Chuckling, Garett responded, "Soon enough, my friend. Beatrice is a very stubborn mare, and it took me years for her to even consider listening to me." He then turned his attention to an agitated Lee, his face filled with determination. With a burst of adrenaline, you swung your leg onto the stirrup, settling into the saddle. The powerful connection between you and Beatrice sent a thrill through your body, as if you were one with the magnificent creature beneath you. "Alright, <<print $player_name>>, get into position, and let's be on our way," Garett declared, his voice filled with determination. You guided Beatrice beside Garett's mount, ready to embark on this thrilling adventure. "FORTH MARCH!" Garett shouted, urging his mount forward, and you followed suit. The convoy trailed behind you as you rode through the wilderness, the wind rushing past you, filling your senses with exhilaration. As you continued on your journey, the distant glimmer on the horizon caught your attention. Squinting your eyes, you strained to make out what it was. And then, your jaw dropped in awe. It was the grand kingdom of Tiara. The brilliant castle towers stood tall and majestic, dominating the landscape. An impressive wall surrounded the kingdom for miles, portraying strength and protection. People bustled about inside the walls, their laughter echoing through the city. It was like stepping into a fairy-tale come true. The cobblestone streets of Tiara were adorned with vibrant flags, their colors dancing in the wind, inviting you to enter their enchanting domain. The sound of laughter mixed with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, creating an atmosphere of joy and wonder. The towering walls of the castle loomed in the distance, with a drawbridge held high and proud. Garett, walking ahead with purposeful strides, turned to you with reverence shining in his eyes. "<<print $player_name>>, let me introduce you to Tiara," he said, his voice filled with admiration. Suddenly, a disembodied voice rang out from one of the castle towers. "State your business!" it demanded, filling the air with a commanding presence. Garett's face lit up with recognition. "John, it's so nice to see you again," he greeted warmly, his voice carrying a note of familiarity. "Lord Pierce, I implore your forgiveness for not recognizing your personage," the guard named John responded solemnly, bowing deeply in respect. "Lower the bridge!" John commanded, and the titanic structure began to descend, slowly yet purposefully, creating a path for your entry into the kingdom. "You're quite famous around here," you remarked, a hint of amusement lacing your tone. Lee couldn't contain his excitement. "Well, his family line is the right hand of the Royal Family after all!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with pride. Garett grinned, his eyes sparkling. "Oh, shush. I'm merely their Majesties' humble servant," he humbly replied. Finally, the bridge was completely lowered, allowing you and your companions safe passage into the kingdom of Tiara. As you entered the walls of the castle, a sense of awe washed over you. The grandeur of the place was overwhelming, with intricately carved statues and marble pillars adorning every corner. The vibrant colors of purple, gold, and emerald green created a heavenly atmosphere, while the tapestries that hung from the walls transported you to another world. The castle was bustling with life, as merchants traded their goods and craftsmen diligently worked on their wares. Young children ran about, playing games in the streets, adding to the vibrant energy of the place. But amidst the chaos, there was a sense of order. Two guardsmen stood at every entranceway, their broad shoulders and gleaming swords and shields a testament to their duty. In the center of it all stood a grand fountain, its waters cascading gracefully. It provided a respite for those who passed by, offering a moment of tranquility in the midst of the bustling crowds. As you continued further into the castle, the unique atmosphere enveloped you, making you feel as if you had found a second home. Suddenly, the sound of clanking armor echoed through the air, sending a chill down your spine. You turned, and there he was—Lucas, The Royal Bodyguard. His piercing blue eyes, familiar features, and strong stature cut through the silence like thunder. You froze, recognizing him instantly. Garett, the person you were accompanying, jumped off his horse and rushed towards his son. As he embraced Lucas, you heard Lee's voice from behind, "Hey <<print $player_name>>, if Garett looks for me, tell him I'm just going to organize the convoy and give the men their pay." Lee's back was turned as he spoke to the men behind you. Curiosity piqued, you couldn't help but wonder why Lucas was here instead of by the side of the Princess. Garett, still holding Lucas in a tight embrace, asked him the same question. Lucas reassured Garett, "The Princess is fine. I just requested some time off." His voice was calm and composed, reflecting his regal demeanor. Just then, Lucian's voice echoed from behind you, calling out to you and Variel. "Me and Variel were looking for you-" Lucian's words trailed off as he caught sight of Garett and Lucas embracing. Astonishment filled his voice as he whispered, "Is that Lucas?" Garett, sensing Lucian's surprise, introduced Lucas to you and Lucian. "Ah yes, Lucas, this is <<print $player_name>>. Lucian and Variel are both part of my traveling party." Garett's voice was filled with pride as he made the introductions. Lucas stepped forward, his head bowed in greeting. "A pleasure to meet you both," he said with a polite yet regal demeanor. The air around him seemed to intensify, as if he possessed a power that was in tune with nature itself. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but be in awe of his presence. Variel, grabbing Lucian by the arm, tugged him away from you with surprising strength. "Human, come with me and give me a tour of this Kingdom!" she demanded, not bothering to look back or slow down. Lucian tried to resist, but Variel's grip was too strong for him to break free. "Hey, it's pretty rude to leave, you know," he called out over his shoulder as they disappeared around a corner. Lee, ever cheerful, stepped forward to relieve you of your weapon. "Don't worry, I'll take care of those two," he announced. You handed over your weapon, watching as Lee examined it with a practiced eye. "I'll go to the blacksmith and have them fix this up real good," Lee continued. "And I'm going to commission a sheath for you too." His smile was disarming as he turned and started after Lucian and Variel. "And besides, I think I need to get Variel and Lucian some new clothes," he shouted, his voice fading as he walked away. As the commotion settled, Garett turned to Lucas, a mischievous grin on his face. "You've been planning to propose to Lee for weeks. Did you finally do it?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. Garett's panic rose as Lucas grinned devilishly. "Shh! Someone might hear you!" Garett hushed, glancing around nervously. Lucas chuckled, his voice filled with amusement. "That's not an issue anymore," he said coolly. His brow arched knowingly, adding to the air of mystery. "You told someone! Who did you tell?!" Garett's face drained of color as he realized the consequences of Lucas sharing the news. "I only told Clara," Lucas replied calmly. "But then she told her parents, and soon their Majesties were demanding to meet with you about wedding arrangements." His laugh echoed menacingly, catching the attention of a few passersby. Garett's voice dripped with sarcasm as he said, "Thanks for that, son!" Lucas flashed a devious grin, and Garett matched the expression. "Oh, have I told you that <<print $player_name>> wanted to meet and get to know you better?" Garett directed his words at Lucas, pointing in your direction. Lucas's eyes sharpened as he turned his gaze towards you. "Is that so?" he spoke quietly, his voice filled with intrigue. Your heart raced, and every nerve in your body fired with anxiety. Garett had thrown you into the conversation without warning, and now you found yourself standing before Lucas, unsure of what to say or do. You gulped, trying to control your trembling body as the weight of the moment hung in the air. [[Continue|Lucille's POV]]

<<print $player_name>> "Yup! we got //Valmir The God Of War//, //Era The Goddess Of Love//, //Ione The God Of Time//, Aros The Goddess Of Vengeance//, //Oris The God Of Knowledge//. ?mcThey Hair length $hair Eye Color $eye "Hair Color" $haircolor "Hair Type" $hairtype "Skin Tone" $skin "Height" $height <<cycle "$skincolor" autoselect>> <<option "pale">> <<option "beige">> <<option "tan">> <<option "light brown">> <<option "brown">> <<option "dark brown">> <<option "almost black">> ... <</cycle>> shades of your skin.// <<set $strength = 10>> <<set $endurance = 10>> <<set $finesse = 10>> <<set $wisdom = 10>> <<set $charm = 10>> <<set $guile = 10>> <<set $agility = 10>> \ <<set $guile = 15>> <<set $wisdom = 15>> @@#Hello; ''//"<<link "It went great">><<replace "#Hello">> [[Continue|Explore] <</replace>><</link>>"//'' "''//<<link "Uhhh, it went horrible">><<replace "#Hello">> [[Continue|Explore] <</replace>><</link>>"//'' @@ A<<linkreplace "What kind of smoke was that?">> <</linkreplace>>

''(Lucille's POV)'' You grip the armrest of your chair with white-knuckled ferocity, anger coursing through your veins at Atris' words. "I can't wait to see your face when you come to the next hearing and find out what new additions we have for the IF" she says mockingly, her voice reverberating around the room like an ancient echo of malice. The knocking of the door echoed through the room, making your head snap to face the figure who opened it. "Goddess Lucille, the Gods and Goddess summon you to their court." The messenger stated before swiftly leaving and closing the door behind them. Summoning all the energy within yourself, you stood up from your chair with a wave of your hand creating a door in front of you. You opened it and stepped into its depths, feeling the air around you shift as you were teleported to the court. Placing both feet firmly on the podium, you looked ahead ready to answer any questions that may be thrown at you. In front of you stood five imposing figures in a circle, each with a powerful air around them. Valmir, the God of War, was effortlessly stranding tall and proud with his deep brown eyes and armor. His muscular figure oozed power as he held a long spear in one hand and a shield in the other. On his right side was Era, the Goddess of Love, radiating beauty with her honey-colored hair that cascaded down to her hips. Her delicate features were softened by her ethereal aura as she gazed at everyone in court with deep violet eyes. Ione, the God of Time, had an air of enigma about him as he looked through the crowd with his cobalt colored eyes and sharp mind. His ageless face made it impossible to guess how old he really was as he stood silently beside Era. Aros, the Goddess of Vengeance, stared powerfully ahead with her chestnut colored eyes that radiated determination and strength. Her stance conveyed the confidence she had as she held a bow in her hands. To the left of Aros was Oris, the God of Knowledge, with his intelligent blue eyes that seemed to pierce through everyone and everything. His presence made it appear as if he knew all secrets and hidden truths of the world. Finally, Atris, the Goddess of Death. Her demeanor was as cold as ice and her obsidian colored eyes were filled with malice and glee. She held a scythe in her hand that gleamed in the light while her black hair cascaded down her back like silk curtains. . "Lucielle, is there anything that you would like to say before we start?" Valmir asked loudly above all else, breaking your train of thought instantly. You look at him before nodding slightly, taking one step forward before calmly stating your request; to be able to voice your opinions without interruptions. "I want to participate in the coming votes for the IF's additions." you say. "Very well!" Oris thundered an affirmative reply, and with a snap of his fingers a book materialized in front of him, projecting intricate 3D holograms on the air. He then thanked you for your brother's suggestion of a 3D representation, nodding in approval. "It appears that the mortal is successfully transitioning into their new life..." His voice trails off as anticipation hangs heavily in the air. "The court is now open for suggestions." Oris declares. Goddess Era stepped forth, beginning to make her case. "I think we should add a quest line that involves the exploration of new areas, allowing characters to earn rare items and resources along the way. It would give them an opportunity to discover new places and territories as they progress throughout the story." Valmir nodded in agreement and offered his own suggestion. "We should also introduce a crafting system so that characters can create their own weapons, armor and accessories, giving them more freedom when it comes to customizing their character builds." Aros then spoke up, proposing the addition of a guild system. "By having guilds, characters can collaborate with each other in the story by forming alliances or competing against one another in tournaments," she said passionately. "Your suggestion are sound but we need something more robust so to speak." Oris muse. Oris's eyes narrow as Atris speaks, her voice reverberating through the court. "A lich!" she exclaims. "Please explain to the court what is a lich?" he inquires cautiously. Your glare at Atris, knowing she has something sinister up her sleeve. "Liches are the remains of great sorcerers who embraced undeath as a means of preserving themselves," she begins darkly. "Scheming and mad with power, they have no interest in the affairs of the living except where those affairs interfere with their own goals. They hunger for long-forgotten knowledge and use it to create the most terrible secrets." Her gaze sweeps across the room, eliciting more fear with every word. "And unlike other undead, a lich can conceive plans that take years, decades or even centuries to come to fruition," she continues. " "They possess powerful magics that surpass anything they could do while alive; necromancy which brings forth hordes of undead servants and Liches are not to be trifled with - not only do they have the ability to cast vast amounts of spells, but also have resistances to certain weapons and the ability to see invisible creatures. Furthermore, their regenerative capacities make them incredibly difficult opponents if one should foolishly attempt battle without proper preparation.." "That is a good prospect!" Valmir chimes in before anyone else can speak, awe evident on his face. "Does the court second in motion?" Oris booms, and with a thunderous crash the gavels of the Gods and Goddesses clash against their podiums in approval. The podiums glow bright with their collective agreement before the quill appears and begins meticulously adding details to the tome. A sudden chill filled the room as Oris bellowed, "Very well, a lich shall be added to the story!" Era's voice rang out in angry protest at the mere mention of a lich, "I suggest a ball so that <<print $player_name>> can find some love before this beast appears!" "How the court plead?" Oris ask and just like before the gavel came crashing down in unison and the quil wrote it down on the tome. "I sugesst music at the ball but make the music modern, as for the insturemnts make it possible for the music to be played.." Ione says. "Does the court accepts?" Oris ask and the Gods and Goddess slam their gavel in unison. The quill scratches feverishly across parchment, writing down their decree. "I want to suggest." you shout and your vocie everyone looked at you. "I want to suggest a prophecy." you declare. "The prophecy dictates!" A dark omen of doom spreads across the land, a prophecy of great power and destruction. For soon, the birth of an unholy Lich will descend upon the world, an all-powerful entity who will seek to enslave and spread its darkness over the land. In the depths of night, when the moon is full and the stars shine bright, a child will be born with an innate connection to death. As they grow in strength and knowledge, becoming a master of dark magics, their sinister power will be unleashed upon the world. Yet even as this horrifying force manifests itself, a Chosen One will also arrive into this world; bearing the mark of a coiled dragon on their sword, a sign that they have been chosen for greatness. This one will be raised with courage and determination, knowing that it is their destiny to face off against the Lich and bring freedom back to the people. With each passing day, their skills will sharpen and their resolve shall become ever stronger, until at last they are ready for battle. As steel clashes against magic, and darkness clashes against light, the Chosen One stands strong; drawing upon their inner power to vanquish the Lich from existence forever. "This makes my blood boil!" Valmir shouts and slammed his gavel down on his podium ,the thunderous sound echoing through the chamber. "Hahaha!" "Do we agree?" Oris challenges sternly, and every gavel slams down in agreement. All except for Atris, her eyes burning with pure hatred directed at you. "This court is adjourned, let us reconvene when it is time." Oris stands and vanishes in a brilliant line of light, each of the gods and goddesses following suit, all but one. "Oh Luciell," she warns darkly, "You cannot stop the terrible cycle of life and death!" "No," you answer in return, your voice strong and determined, "But I can try to mitigate some of its destruction and misery." With that you turn away from her, not wanting to spend another second in her presence. "I will do my best brother and <<print $player_name>> to help the both of you in your journey's." you say determined. [[Continue|End of demo]]

Hello, I hoped you enjoyed Chapter 1 but sadly that's the end of it and you can meet the new OC and meet them in Chapter 2: OC's, Prepare To Meet Your Maker. Here's a small teaser to keep you guys in your toes ;) ''//"So you want to challenge me to a duel, ?" Lucas ask and staring you down. "Yes!" you reply confident. "Why?" Lucas asked curious. "To know you better!" "Very well, En Garde!" he settled into a fighting stance.//[[ ''//Can your MC fight its way to Lucas' heart? But if you mind him to be too cold for your taste how about something spicy to make things interesting. "So did you really prank the prince?" you ask Clara. "Yes, I did!" Clara says boastful. "Shhh!" she pull you to the side and peep on the corner. "Can you help me prank that guy?" she ask you.//'' Well, you will found these answers soon enough but for now is another session with Narrator and you lot did request a background story of Variel before the IF was rewritten. So stepped into the door. [[A door appeared in front of you]]

You grasp the brass handle and push open the door, its hinges creaking in protest at the intrusion. As you step over the threshold, N rises from his leather chair with a smile that splits his face wide. "Ahhh, Reader, you're back!" he exclaims in a jovial tone. "Please sit!" He makes an expansive gesture towards the chair in front of him and you comply, sinking into the plush cushions. N leans forward conspiratorially, his eyes alight with excitement. "So as promised," he begins in a hushed voice, "I will now regale you with the tale of Variel." "Once upon a time, there are two dragons who fall madly deep in love with one another. Soon enough the Mother gave birth to 5 eggs. The dragons roared in joy as the Mother gave birth to 5 eggs, each containing a spark of potential, a promise of new life. Many years passed and the four eggs hatched; out came four baby dragons with scales of different hues that glimmered in the light. But despite their parents’ fervent attempts, the fifth egg refused to budge. Finally, after a couple of years, a crack appeared on its surface, stirring the dragons from their slumber and into action. “Beloved! Come quickly! The egg is hatching!” the Mother cried, her voice shaking with excitement. The Father hurried over and peered closely at the egg. With a sudden burst it cracked open and out came an unexpected surprise—a human baby covered in red scales and dragon-like features." "Wait what?" you asked surprise. "Shocking I know!" N chuckles. "Durandal do my eyes deceive me?" The Mother ask. "No, Aeloria because I too see the same thing!" the Father says. "The baby was named Variel and she was welcomed into the dragon family with open arms. As she grew older, her scales slowly began to recede until all that remained were a few strands of wispy red hair strewn atop his head. Though they accepted her as one of their own, the other four dragons constantly teased Variel for not having a dragon form. Despite her mother's constant reminder to be kind to everyone, the four continued their unceasing bullying. Until one day when it got too much, Variel's rage boiled up and burst out in an unexpected way - she began to grow, transforming into an enormous dragon before their very eyes. Her dragon form was majestic and awe-inspiring; its body was as wide as the sky and its wingspan stretched from horizon to horizon. The scales covering its body glowed brightly with a brilliant red hue that seems to burn like lava. Its talons were sharp like knife capable of rending flesh. Durandal was in awe as he looked upon Variel's dragon form, none of his other children possess this kind of power before. He saw the potential in her and knew that she was special and unique. He embraced her warmly and praised her for her strength and courage, “You are indeed a true dragon, my little one” he said with pride. Variel smiled back and proudly showed off her dragon form to the others who were once so cruel to her; a silent but powerful message to them that no matter what they say, nothing can take away her worth or diminish her power." "That's so cute and happy, I hope nothing bad happens to them" escape your mouth. "Little did you know that fate had something else in store." N grins at you. "Then one day out of the blue, Aleroia was stricken with a disease." Durandal's face turned pale and his eyes were like cold pits of despair. He spent all his energy and knowledge desperately scouring the plane for any sign of a cure, but all his efforts were in vain. Little Variel gazed up at her father, her bright crimson eyes clouded with worry, "Will Mother be okay Father?" she asked meekly. Durandal, desperate to save his beloved wife, looked into his daughter's eyes and whispered a reply: "Yes, little one and I will make sure of it." But just then, an idea began to circle in his mind like a dark storm — what if he fed off the soul of his daughter? Could he save his beloved wife from death's grasp? Durandal had heard of an ancient and powerful magic, a form of necromancy known as blood magic. It was said to have the power to bring life back from death, but it also came with a steep price. His heart breaking, Durandal gathered his four children in his arms and held them close as he prepared to take their souls away with the dark art of necromancy. Knowing what was about to happen, Variel bravely stepped forward and begged her father to spare her siblings. Tears streaming down her face she proclaimed "Take me father! Take my soul instead!" "Don't worry little one, you will come next!" Durandal says gravely consumed by the darkness. Variel knows that her Father is gone consumed by sadness and madness, yet she manages to smirk. "You're not the only one learning the dark arts Father!" she murmurs arrogantly, standing in the chilled night air under a shimmering full moon. Setting her lips into a determined line, she mutters an incantation and Durandal gasps in horror. His eyes widen in disbelief and he thunders "Where have you acquired such power?" Variel grins devilishly and with relish proclaims "Aerolia!". Durandal cries out his beloved's name as he realizes what heinous deeds Variel has done. "Fret not Father, you will join her soon enough!" Variel laughs and started to chant. The air around her started to boil and the ground beneath her feet turned to ashes as a dark red aura engulfed her. Fireballs, lightning strikes and other chaotic energies rained down from the sky. Variel's skin was glowing and streams of energy were radiating off of her body into Durandal. All of the power surging through his body overwhelmed him and he kneeled in front of Variel in defeat. With a mighty roar, Durandal's soul was ripped out by the power of necromancy and absorbed by Variel, who turned away from him with a satisfied smirk on her face. The ritual had succeeded and she had gained immense power. Variel felt her strength swell with each beat of her heart, an energy that begged to be released. With a wild fervor, she ventured out in search of her kindred, their souls seen as helpless offerings to satiate her overpowering need. Her power growing, Variel marched onward with a thirst for power and a hunger for destruction. The dragons of the realm banded together to try and stop her, but Variel quickly discovered that their magical powers were no match for her newfound strength. Nothing could stop her; she ripped out every essence of every living dragon with ease. The force of her power was too much for the dragons to handle and many lay dead in the battlefields, leaving the once-powerful creatures nothing more than a memory. In spite of their valiant attempt, Variel had won the day. Her crimson eyes glowed with victorious glee as she surveyed the destruction she had caused. She had tasted what it felt like to be truly powerful and there was no one left to oppose her." "The End!" N says and closing the book. "That was pretty dark!" you say and body in goosebumps. "She is dark but hey I'm guessing even though she is like that, you still love her." N says chuckling. "But sadly I think we have to part ways for now, so come back soon Readers." N waves their hand in farewell. [[Continue|Chapter 2]]

''//Chapter 2: OC's, Prepare To Meet Your Maker//'' The air in the area seemed to thicken, each passing second becoming more oppressive with Lucas' unnerving gaze. His blue eyes seemed to strip you of your defenses as they pierced through you like daggers. You could almost feel yourself shaking under his scrutiny, and you wanted desperately for him to break that gaze. "Well <<print $player_name>>?" Garett's voiced pierced the silence, his elbow jabbing your side playfully in an attempt to lighten the mood. @@#Hello; ''//"<<link "Yes, I want to know you better">><<replace "#Hello">> "Yes! Absolutely!" you reply with an eager smile, barely containing the excitement in your chest. "Interesting." Lucas says and turning on his heel. "His Majesty would like to meet you <<print $player_name>>!" he states, a glimmer of mischief in his eye. You gasp. The King wanted to meet you? It was almost unimaginable! "Me?" you blurt out surprised. "King Richard do found Dragons interesting ever since he was young." Garett chuckles and cuts. "Yes, he found it admirable that you were the one who managed to tame the dragon." Lucas says slyly and striding forward. "He does?" you ask again, dumbfounded by how easily fate had placed this opportunity in your lap. You and Garett follow close behind Lucas, walking beside him. "Indeed he does, and if I may be so bold, please may the Gods give me the strength to endure those incessant questioning," Lucas rolled his eyes and retorted with a hint of sarcasm. You cocked your head to one side, "What do you mean?" "It's quite simple: every time I give an answer, thou hast another question at thy lips. It's really getting grating," he uttered in a mirthless tone. "LUCAS!" Garett says his name in a stern tone. "I apologize Father, but I'm merely stating the facts." He then shifted his gaze towards you, offering up a deep bow before continuing on his way. You were bewildered by this unexpected gesture, but Lucas' apology brought your attention to his words. "And I also apologize for my behavior," he humbly admitted as he dropped his head in shame. "I'm not really well-versed in this type of social interaction." Lucas carried on, leaving only the faint sound of his footsteps echoing through the area. "Now then let's con-" his word was cut off by a sharp shove, when he was interrupted by a fleeting figure that collided into him. Lucas steadied her, looking into her eyes. His voice caught in his throat as he uttered, “Claire?” “Lucas!” the girl exclaimed, stepping back and curtsying in surprise. She quickly regained her composure and greeted Garett with a polite bow of her head, “Sir Garett!” Garett bowed deeply in response to the unexpected reunion. He joyfully exclaimed, “Lady Claire!” You gazed upon the mysterious figure named Claire. Her wispy black gown corsette fluttered against the still air, a single hair clip perched atop her head like a silvery crown. A glimmer of light touched her hat, displaying its regal purple hue with an unfathomable sense of grandeur. Her caramel eyes ensnared your every thought; they told stories of ancient aristocracy and distant extravagance. Her poised stature spoke louder than words, confirming that she was truly a woman of high-born status. Claire gazed at you with an inviting smile, her caramel eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Oh, forgive me but I don't quite catch your name?" "I'm <<print $player_name>>," you answered, voice low and smooth. You gave her a nod and Claire curtseyed in response, her dress of richest velvets swaying around her trim form. "Charmed!" she said in a sultry tone as she turned her attention to Lucas. "So Lucas, what are you doing here and not on the side of the princess?" Her back was straight and taut as she inquired; determination etched on her delicate features. Lucas' lips curved into a knowing smile as he replied, "The King asked me to find his two guests and deliver them to the castle." His tone softened as he added, "If you wish you can join us on this wonderful afternoon." But before anyone could respond, a loud voice boomed from the distance. "Claire!" Claire's body tensed for a moment before finishing her sentence with an exhausted sigh. "As I want to, but Father wants me to accompany him." Her shoulders drooped just slightly as she spoke, yet she maintained an air of regality. As the man approached, his eyes flickered with a predatory gaze. "There you are!" His voice was gruff and menacing. Lucas met his stare head-on, refusing to bow or back down. "Sir Varus!" he greeted in a hard tone. The man's glare could have frozen steel as he spat out the name "Deathborn" with venomous loathing. You were taken aback by the hostility radiating from the man, the man was impeccably dressed in an all-black suit, black shoes that gleamed like obsidian, and a midnight cane of polished wood. His hair was slicked back into a curtain of darkness, but in the right light, a faint sheen of white stripes could be seen amidst the strands. His face was chiseled and cold as steel, marked by lines that spoke of a hardened life. "Father!" Claire exclaimed as she stepped forward, placing her hand on the man's arm. Garett stepped forward intently watching the man eye to eye. "Watch your mouth Varus!" he warned harshly. But the man only sneered, "Ahhh, the man who is the Father of an orphan." As the tension mounted, you noticed a few passer-bys slowly gathering around, drawn in by the spectacle of two houses at each other's throats. [[Woah! Let's relax for a bit]] [[Who do you think you are]] [[Go screw yourself]] [[Do you want me to punch him]] <</replace>><</link>>"//'' "''//<<link "A little">><<replace "#Hello">> You don't really want to say that you don't want to know Lucas better because you will come off as rude to the both of them. "A little!" you say gently and the most kindest tone you can muster. Garett looks at you bewildred by your answer but only Lucas replied. "At least you're honest about it." Lucas says with regality and turning on his heel. "His Majesty would like to meet you<<print $player_name>>!" he states, a glimmer of mischief in his eye. You gasp. The King wanted to meet you? It was almost unimaginable! "Me?" you blurt out surprised. "King Richard do found Dragons interesting ever since he was young." Garett chuckles and cuts. "Yes, he found it admirable that you were the one who managed to tame the dragon." Lucas says slyly and striding forward. "He does?" you ask again, dumbfounded by how easily fate had placed this opportunity in your lap. You and Garett follow close behind Lucas, walking beside him. "Indeed he does, and if I may be so bold, please may the Gods give me the strength to endure those incessant questioning," Lucas rolled his eyes and retorted with a hint of sarcasm. You cocked your head to one side, "What do you mean?" "It's quite simple: every time I give an answer, thou hast another question at thy lips. It's really getting grating," he uttered in a mirthless tone. "LUCAS!" Garett says his name in a stern tone. "I apologize Father, but I'm merely stating the facts." He then shifted his gaze towards you, offering up a deep bow before continuing on his way. You were bewildered by this unexpected gesture, but Lucas' apology brought your attention to his words. "And I also apologize for my behavior," he humbly admitted as he dropped his head in shame. "I'm not really well-versed in this type of social interaction." Lucas carried on, leaving only the faint sound of his footsteps echoing through the area. "Now then let's con-" his word was cut off by a sharp shove, when he was interrupted by a fleeting figure that collided into him. Lucas steadied her, looking into her eyes. His voice caught in his throat as he uttered, “Claire?” “Lucas!” the girl exclaimed, stepping back and curtsying in surprise. She quickly regained her composure and greeted Garett with a polite bow of her head, “Sir Garett!” Garett bowed deeply in response to the unexpected reunion. He joyfully exclaimed, “Lady Claire!” You gazed upon the mysterious figure named Claire. Her wispy black gown corsette fluttered against the still air, a single hair clip perched atop her head like a silvery crown. A glimmer of light touched her hat, displaying its regal purple hue with an unfathomable sense of grandeur. Her caramel eyes ensnared your every thought; they told stories of ancient aristocracy and distant extravagance. Her poised stature spoke louder than words, confirming that she was truly a woman of high-born status. Claire gazed at you with an inviting smile, her caramel eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Oh, forgive me but I don't quite catch your name?" "I'm <<print $player_name>>," you answered, voice low and smooth. You gave her a nod and Claire curtseyed in response, her dress of richest velvets swaying around her trim form. "Charmed!" she said in a sultry tone as she turned her attention to Lucas. "So Lucas, what are you doing here and not on the side of the princess?" Her back was straight and taut as she inquired; determination etched on her delicate features. Lucas' lips curved into a knowing smile as he replied, "The King asked me to find his two guests and deliver them to the castle." His tone softened as he added, "If you wish you can join us on this wonderful afternoon." But before anyone could respond, a loud voice boomed from the distance. "Claire!" Claire's body tensed for a moment before finishing her sentence with an exhausted sigh. "As I want to, but Father wants me to accompany him." Her shoulders drooped just slightly as she spoke, yet she maintained an air of regality. As the man approached, his eyes flickered with a predatory gaze. "There you are!" His voice was gruff and menacing. Lucas met his stare head-on, refusing to bow or back down. "Sir Varus!" he greeted in a hard tone. The man's glare could have frozen steel as he spat out the name "Deathborn" with venomous loathing. You were taken aback by the hostility radiating from the man, the man was impeccably dressed in an all-black suit, black shoes that gleamed like obsidian, and a midnight cane of polished wood. His hair was slicked back into a curtain of darkness, but in the right light, a faint sheen of white stripes could be seen amidst the strands. His face was chiseled and cold as steel, marked by lines that spoke of a hardened life. "Father!" Claire exclaimed as she stepped forward, placing her hand on the man's arm. Garett stepped forward intently watching the man eye to eye. "Watch your mouth Varus!" he warned harshly. But the man only sneered, "Ahhh, the man who is the Father of an orphan." As the tension mounted, you noticed a few passer-bys slowly gathering around, drawn in by the spectacle of two houses at each other's throats. [[Woah! Let's relax for a bit]] [[Who do you think you are]] [[Go screw yourself]] [[Do you want me to punch him]] <</replace>><</link>>"//'' @@

You shout with a booming voice trying to break through the noise and tension, hoping to stop this argument before it takes a more dangerous turn. You can feel the tension building in the atmosphere, and the guards become more vigilant with their presence. The group falls silent as you capture their attention. Your gaze rakes over them, silently warning them not to cause more trouble. "Woah! Let's RELAX for a bit!" you shout through the ruckus and all eyes turn towards you. "Clearly we got off on a bad foot here," you continue, raising your hand in peace. Garett has his chest puffed out and he points an accusing finger towards Varul. "I will not let you talk to my son that way!" he thunders. Varul stands tall, undaunted by Garett's show of strength. His lips curl into a snide smile as he replies in a cutting tone capable of cutting flesh and emotion. "Son? He's merely an orphan that you took in on a rainy day, don't fool yourself Garett!" "Nobles!" You murmur under your breath, you close your eyes and sigh at how convoluted things have become. Lucas bellowed out in a thunderous roar,"ENOUGH!" He sauntered forward, his hand already on the hilt of his trusty sword. He glared at Varus, venom burning in his eyes as he spoke. "If you want to prove your point, Varus, then let us fight with steel and not words! Let's see who is more worthy!" Lucas raised his sword and pointed it directly at Varus' chest. His face was still a mask of fury and his voice seemed to rumble through the air like its own separate force. Varus' hands moved with lightning speed, unsheathing his own sword from his cane before Lucas had finished speaking. His eyes were ablaze as he shouted back "I will be happy to oblige your final request Lucas! Let us decide fate with blades!" Garett immediately intervened and took their place in the middle. "I want this to be a fair duel," he declared in a booming voice. His head held up high and his arms stretched out wide as if trying to contain their power.",like the calm before the storm. The sun rising higher in the clear sky sky, as if it was a heavenly witness to the epic duel that was about to take place. The air felt still and heavy with anticipation; Lucas, wearing his pristine silver armor, seemed almost god-like in stature, his every action emphasizing his authority and control. His opponent Varus, on the other hand, strode forward with a silent grace, dressed in all black that emphasised his lean frame; he clutched his sabre cane firmly against his chest as he locked eyes with Lucas. The whole world seemed to have gone quiet, waiting with bated breath for the clash of steel that was sure to come. "BEGIN!" Garett brought his hand down. Lucas lunged forward, swinging his sword in a wide arch towards Varus' head. With lightning speed, Varus parried the blow with the hilt of his sword cane and stepped back with a quick spin, avoiding Lucas' follow-up strike. The weapons flashed as they clashed together in a deadly dance; the clanging of steel echoing throughout the entire arena as sparks flew from their blades. The duelists soared through the air, dodging each other's strikes with grace and agility. They moved so fast that it almost seemed like time had stopped for them during their fight. Every slash and parry was calculated perfectly - no move was wasted in their intense battle. Varus finally made his move, performing an acrobatic jump to avoid Lucas' downward swing before plunging his sword cane into Lucas' shoulder. The crowd gasped at this unexpected attack - but Lucas was quick on his feet and managed to push off Varus' blade just before Varus has the chance to inflict more damage. Lucas rotated his arm, feeling the grazing sensation of Varus' sword against his armor. "You sure are sprightly for an old man!" he taunts, as he walked closer to Garett. The latter unsheathed his sword and turned it to face Lucas. The metallic clang of blades filled the air as Lucas slowly pivoted their swords together until they formed a cross in front of him. His voice reverberated across the arena, lifting the spirits of the crowd that had gathered around. "But let me show you why the House Of Pierce is esteemed as the Seneschal by their Royal Majesties!" He declared with utmost confidence. An ardent passion ignited within Varus as he brandished his sword and proclaimed, "Say what you want Lucas, but I will be the victor of this duel!" With deft skill, he sliced through the air with precision and jabbed his blade at his opponent. At this moment, all eyes shifted onto them, ready for a thrilling spectacle of swordsmanship. Their weapons clashed in a flurry of steel, sparks flying as they exchanged swift attacks and powerful blocks. The crowd cheered in awe as the two duelists moved around each other with an almost supernatural speed and agility. Sweat glistened on their faces and arms as they swung their swords with a ferocity that could rival any beast. The tempo of the fight intensified, neither having the advantage over the other. With a final parry from Lucas, Varus was forced back several paces away from his opponent. He gritted his teeth and growled in frustration before boldly striding forward to meet him once again in battle. But alas, it was not meant to be; one final exchange of blows between them ended with Lucas' sword cutting through Varus' blade like a hot knife through butter. “NO! THIS CANNOT BE!" Varus uttered in disbelief, as he hand grip tighter on the handle of his broken sword. "You are nothing compared to my son!" Garett exclaimed with renewed conviction. "Thank you Father!", Lucas grinned at the sound of his father's pride then lowered Varus's weapon, stepping aside. In one swift motion, he flipped Varus onto the ground and cast his weapon away from him with a loud clank. The fight was over, and Lucas had emerged victorious. The guards closed in, with their swords drawn and ready to pounce. Garett's voice pierced the silent air like thunder, as he shouted, "Arrest that man!" Pointing his finger towards Varus, who was crawling on the ground. The guards hauled him up, gripping him by both arms. "FATHER!" Lucas' loud cry rang outwards, causing everyone in the district to turn towards him. He boomed,"Let him be!" His authoritative voice was confident and determined. Garett tried to interject. "But son he drew first blo-" Lucas cut him off mid-sentence, directing a command to the guards. "Release him!" he thundered. His voice shook the air around them as he commanded the guards to release their grip on Varus. The guard hesitated, looking at one another with confusion before slowly letting go. Lucas looked over to Clara who had tears streaming down her face while she watched her father in worry. He then face his father wanting only justice and not vengeance. "We need to think of the aftermath of our actions." Lucas said, his voice stern and unwavering this time. Garett followed the gaze of his son and refrained from speaking further. His face softened. "Very well!" He bellowed in agreement. “That's a spectacle of a lifetime!” One of the awe-stricken onlookers exclaimed. “Agreed, but sadly, like all shows, it must come to an end.” a man added solemnly, before slowly turning and beginning his descent away from the scene. In unison, the crowd followed suit, gradually dissipating as if it was a mere dream they had shared together. Until only a few remained—only those still in their state of utter fascination—standing there until their enthrallment faded away with them; like nothing ever happened. [[Continue|Explore City]]

You inch forward, your body aching with tension. Your eyes lock onto Varus', and you demand in a low growl "Who do you think you are?" Varus took a calculated step forward, contemplating his next move. Then he let out an unamused half-laugh, in a tone just as sharp as yours. “I could ask you the same thing!” He challenged. Just then Lucas and Garett steps in front of you. Their presence cuts through the palpable tension like a blade. Standing side by side, they turn to face you. Lucas speaks first, his voice sharp yet filled with conviction: "?mcthey're my guests," he says. "And my friend!" Garett adds. The two of them share one last meaningful glance before bowing their heads at you in respect and gratitude. "HA! A scum manged to fool one of the great houses here in Tiara!" Varuse sneered with a cruel laugh, reverberating through the sector. "Scu-" your voice was drowned by a shout of Claire. "Father I beseech you to stop this instant." Claire desperately clung to her father's arm, eyes shining with tears as she begged him to reconsider his decision. But Varus did not heed her words, instead his hand went to his cane. With one swift motion he drew out a shimmering sword from its depths. "I challenge you, Deathborn to a duel!" he roared, brandishing it menacingly towards Lucas. "FATHER DON'T!" Claire clung onto him tightly, trying her best to keep him from harm but Varus gently pried the hands of his daughter off him with firm resolution. "I accept!" Lucas stepped forward, his deep voice resounding like thunder as he unsheathed his own sword. Garett immediately intervened and took their place in the middle. "I want this to be a fair duel," he declared in a booming voice. His head held up high and his arms stretched out wide as if trying to contain their power.",like the calm before the storm. The two duelist squared off against each other, bodies tensed and on edge with anticipation. Varus flicked his sword to the side, bringing it near to his chest with the tip pointing upwards. Lucas held his blade in front of him and slowly lowering it down so that the edge pointed directly at Varus. Before either could make an unwarranted move, Garett yelled for them to begin! In that moment time seemed to stand still as both sides charged towards each other with feral intensity. The sound of their weapons clashing against each other reverberated through the sector, echoing off the walls like a loud thunder. The blades clashed and sparks flew as the two duelists fought for supremacy. Their chests heaved up and down with each breath, sweat dripping from their foreheads; their faces contorted in concentration as they tried to best one another. Lucas's sword glimmered in the dim light, making it look almost alive as it swung side to side, parrying every blow Varus threw at him. On the other hand Varus' sword cane was fast and precise, slashing through air with deadly accuracy. Their strength seemed evenly matched: one moment Lucas was on top of things pushing Varus back and then suddenly it would be the other way around with Varus getting the upper hand. Both of them were giving their all in this death-defying duel that seemed to go on forever. The clash of their blades echoed around the sector as the two dueled, both seemingly evenly matched. Suddenly, Varus parried Luca's downward strike, spinning bladed in a circular motion before flipping it high into the air. An arrogant grin stretched across his face as he shouted with pride, “Victory is mine!” and then brought just down towards Lucca. "WATCH OUT!" you screamed, seeing the blade advancing swiftly towards its target. Garett smirked from the sidelines, surely enjoying this spectacle. Your heart beat rapidly within your chest as Lucca caught Varus' sword with both of his gauntleted hands. "That's some anime shit!" you exclaimed in awe, remembering samurai doing such moves in your favorite shows. ''//Shinken Shirahadori.//'' “NO! THIS CANNOT BE!" Varus uttered in disbelief, as he frantically struggled to break off Lucas's iron grip on his blade. "You are nothing compared to my son!" Garett exclaimed with renewed conviction. "Thank you Father!", Lucas grinned at the sound of his father's pride then lowered Varus's weapon, stepping aside. In one swift motion, he flipped Varus onto the ground and cast his weapon away from him with a loud clank. The fight was over, and Lucas had emerged victorious. The guards closed in, with their swords drawn and ready to pounce. Garett's voice pierced the silent air like thunder, as he shouted, "Arrest that man!" Pointing his finger towards Varus, who was crawling on the ground. The guards hauled him up, gripping him by both arms. "FATHER!" Lucas' loud cry rang outwards, causing everyone in the district to turn towards him. He boomed,"Let him be!" His authoritative voice was confident and determined. Garett tried to interject. "But son he drew first blo-" Lucas cut him off mid-sentence, directing a command to the guards. "Release him!" he thundered. His voice shook the air around them as he commanded the guards to release their grip on Varus. The guard hesitated, looking at one another with confusion before slowly letting go. Lucas looked over to Clara who had tears streaming down her face while she watched her father in worry. He then face his father wanting only justice and not vengeance. "We need to think of the aftermath of our actions." Lucas said, his voice stern and unwavering this time. Garett followed the gaze of his son and refrained from speaking further. His face softened. "Very well!" He bellowed in agreement. “That's a spectacle of a lifetime!” One of the awe-stricken onlookers exclaimed. “Agreed, but sadly, like all shows, it must come to an end.” a man added solemnly, before slowly turning and beginning his descent away from the scene. In unison, the crowd followed suit, gradually dissipating as if it was a mere dream they had shared together. Until only a few remained—only those still in their state of utter fascination—standing there until their enthrallment faded away with them; like nothing ever happened. [[Continue|Explore City]]

You felt the rage boiling within you and yelled out, "Go screw yourself!" in a wrathful roar. The bustling of conversation came to an abrupt halt as all eyes turned to you. Varus stepped towards you, his voice commanding. "You dare speak such crudeness in my presence?" he inquired, his other hand slowly reaching for the handle of his cane. Suddenly, like a striking cobra, he unsheathed it with a violent swoosh revealing to everyone's shock that his cane was actually a cane sword! Lucas stepped up, protecting you with his valiant figure and hand poised around the hilt of his weapon. He declared boldly in a booming voice," If you wish to defend your honor Varus, you will face me and not my guest!" His armor glinted in the light of the sun, illuminating him like some knight from ancient fairytales. His cape billowed in the air, giving off an impression of strength and dignity. “Move aside, Deathborn! The one that I thirst to fight is the scum standing behind you!” Varus snarled and pointed his sword towards you menacingly. "Scu-" Lucas cut you off mid-sentence, raising a hand to silence your words. “When you stooped so low as to insult me, and dare to raise a weapon against my guest, Varus, it is an inexcusable show of disrespect!” Lucas spoke through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing in rage as he drew forth his sword, the iron blade glinting under the meager light. Lucas' eyes narrowed as he intensified his gaze upon Varus. "Your words amount to a grave offense against me and my guest, I will not let it slide." Varus laughed mockingly, twirling his sword in his hand. "You are nothing but a worthless orphan, Deathborn. You may have defeated many in the past, but you will never be able to defeat me!" Varus lunged forward, aiming his sword towards Lucas' chest. The two engaged in a fierce battle, their clashing swords echoing through the air. Lucas was quick on his feet, dodging and parrying Varus' attacks with practised ease. His sword flashed through the air, striking Varus' sword with a loud clang. Sweat poured down his forehead as he gritted his teeth, determination etched into his face. Varus' face twisted in rage as he swung his sword with all his might, aiming it towards Lucas' neck. But Lucas was too quick for him. He ducked down and delivered a swift kick to Varus' stomach, causing him to stumble back. "You think you can defeat me with such ease?" Varus sneers and charging once more. Garett's voice bellowed in rage and he drove his glimmering sword deeper under Varus' neck, causing him to stiffen with fear. "Garett, as expected from a father of a Deathb-". Garett let out an almighty roar that shook the foundations of the building, and pushed his blade further down onto the fragile skin of Varus. "SILENCE YOUR TONGUE! YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO INSULT MY SON'S HONOR AND THEN ATTACK HIM?!" Varus stood dead still, small beads of sweat rolling down his forehead like an ebb and flow of tiny rivers. His breaths were shallow, as if they were being taken away by the sheer intensity of the situation. He dared not utter a word. The crowd erupted into whispers as they realised what had happened. "It looks like today this place will be stained with blood!" shouted one merchant. "No doubt about it. Everyone knows when you mess with the son of Garett, the father himself will deal with it," added another. Garett bared his teeth, seething with rage. He looked ready for battle; veins protruding from his arms and forehead alike as he applied a greater pressure onto Varus' neck. Claire pleaded desperately to Sir Garett, “Please! Have mercy upon my Father’s transgressions!” Garett's sword left a subtle mark on Varus' flesh as he uttered in response, "I cannot pardon him, but for your sake, I shall look the other way..". In that split second of distraction Varus lunged towards Garett with his weapon raised and poised to strike. Garett shouted, "MOVE!" as he pushed Claire out of harm's way. The tip of the blade grazed his cheek and a thin line of ruby-red blood appeared. Varus roared in fury,"I WILL KILL YOU!", but Garett quickly leapt aside and delivered an almighty punch to his adversary's face with his gauntlets. A revolting crunch sounded out upon impact and Varus was sent flying through the air. His sword clanged against the cobblestones as it slid across the ground. The guards closed in, with their swords drawn and ready to pounce. Garett's voice pierced the silent air like thunder, as he shouted, "Arrest that man!" Pointing his finger towards Varus, who was crawling on the ground. The guards hauled him up, gripping him by both arms. "FATHER!" Lucas' loud cry rang outwards, causing everyone in the district to turn towards him. He boomed,"Let him be!" His authoritative voice was confident and determined. Garett tried to interject. "But son he drew first blo-" Lucas cut him off mid-sentence, directing a command to the guards. "Release him!" he thundered. His voice shook the air around them as he commanded the guards to release their grip on Varus. The guard hesitated, looking at one another with confusion before slowly letting go. Lucas looked over to Clara who had tears streaming down her face while she watched her father in worry. He then face his father wanting only justice and not vengeance. "We need to think of the aftermath of our actions." Lucas said, his voice stern and unwavering this time. Garett followed the gaze of his son and refrained from speaking further. His face softened and he wiped away the blood trickling down his cheek. "Very well!" He bellowed in agreement. “That's a spectacle of a lifetime!” One of the awe-stricken onlookers exclaimed. “Agreed, but sadly, like all shows, it must come to an end.” a man added solemnly, before slowly turning and beginning his descent away from the scene. In unison, the crowd followed suit, gradually dissipating as if it was a mere dream they had shared together. Until only a few remained—only those still in their state of utter fascination—standing there until their enthrallment faded away with them; like nothing ever happened. [[Continue|Explore City]]

You take a step towards Lucas, your voice low and menacing. "Do you want me to punch him?" You see his face snap in your direction, but then you notice the corners of his lips twitch upwards. "I'm will be delighted and honored if you do such a thing," he murmurs back with obvious gratitude, his eyes darkening. "But I fear that you might get imprisoned and even executed for touching and hurting a noble." He releases a rueful chuckle, shaking his head gently as he looks at you with admiration. "But he insulted you!" you exclaim, feeling a fiery wrath blaze within you. How could Varus be so careless with his words? "<<print $player_name>>, although I'm honored that you are defending me, the politics and laws of Tiara are not like where you come from," Lucas says in a parental-like manner, gentle yet firm. "Then will you kindly explain it to me?" you ask, your annoyance beginning to flare up due to Lucas' enigmatic words. "Gladly," he begins gravely. "Only a noble can challenge or hurt another noble. If someone of a lower class dares to lay their hands on them, they shall be thrown into prison until judgement is passed." You gasp in shock at this harsh reality. "That's harsh? Then what about the likes of Varus!" you then observe Varus locked in an intense argument with Garett. Furious, Garett screams at the top of his lungs: "You have the audacity to call out my son like that Varus?!" To which Varus retorts calmly: "It's my right to say my mind and opinion Garett." Claire then attempts to drag her father away from the scene but Varus plants his feet firmly on the ground and refuses to budge. "I agree with your judgement <<print $player_name>> and so I hope that my next demonstration might enlighten you.". Lucas steps forward and appears more imposing than ever before - his armor clanking with every move and his regal cape billowing behind him. His intimidating stature commands respect amidst the hushed murmurs around you as everyone eagerly awaits his next words. "I, Lucas Pierce - Son of The Pierce House - challenge you to a duel, Varus." He declares boldly and his royal authority causes everyone present to gasp in surprise. The fierce words echo throughout the area as all eyes turn towards Lucas in unison. You sense the air become charged with anticipation as murmurs rise up: "Did you hear that?! A duel is about to happen!"; "Ohhhh! This is going to be exciting! The Royal Protector making a show!" Varus strolled forward with a regal elegance, the kind that could only come from a family of noble blood. His bright black eyes sparkled with resolution and courage. His voice soared through the air like thunder. "I Varus Woulfe, accepts your challenge!" With a swift flip of his wrist he pulled forth a blade from his cane and brandished it in front of him. The sun glinted off the steel as its edge gleamed in the light. All present were in awe of Varus' boldness and vigor. Garett immediately intervened and took their place in the middle. "I want this to be a fair duel," he declared in a booming voice. His head held up high and his arms stretched out wide as if trying to contain their power.",like the calm before the storm. "Begin!" Garett brought down his hand. Lucas and Varus rush one another, their weapons poised for a fight. Their eyes were locked in a fierce battle of wills as each tried to outmaneuver the other. The clang of metal against metal filled the air as they clashed swords with incredible speed and ferocity, pushing forward and backward in an attempt to gain an advantage. Sparks flew with every blow, illuminating the blades momentarily before fading away like fireworks in the bright sky. They whirled across the sector in a beautiful ballet of death-defying grace; swords flashing and soaring through the air like deadly birds of prey seeking their target. Varus' sword cane proved to be a formidable opponent, its curving blade easily parrying Lucas' attacks and seeking out the gaps in his defense. But Lucas was no novice either; his sword didn't just block and slash, it seemed to anticipate Varus' next move, like a snake waiting for its prey. Then suddenly, without warning, Lucas lunged forward and with one powerful slash sent Varus’ sword flying across the room. His eyes wide with shock as he stumbled back a few steps before regaining his balance. Lucas stood tall over him with a triumphant smirk on his face as all watched in awe at what they had just witnessed. He had emerged victorious from this death-defying duel, proving once again why he is known as The Royal Protector! “NO! THIS CANNOT BE!" Varus uttered in disbelief, as he frantically struggled to stand back on his feet. "You are nothing compared to my son!" Garett exclaimed with renewed conviction. "Thank you Father!", Lucas grinned at the sound of his father's pride . The guards closed in, with their swords drawn and ready to pounce. Garett's voice pierced the silent air like thunder, as he shouted, "Arrest that man!" Pointing his finger towards Varus, who was kneeling on the ground. The guards hauled him up, gripping him by both arms. "FATHER!" Lucas' loud cry rang outwards, causing everyone in the district to turn towards him. He boomed,"Let him be!" His authoritative voice was confident and determined. Garett tried to interject. "But son he drew first blo-" Lucas cut him off mid-sentence, directing a command to the guards. "Release him!" he thundered. His voice shook the air around them as he commanded the guards to release their grip on Varus. The guard hesitated, looking at one another with confusion before slowly letting go. Lucas looked over to Clara who had tears streaming down her face while she watched her father in worry. He then face his father wanting only justice and not vengeance. "We need to think of the aftermath of our actions." Lucas said, his voice stern and unwavering this time. Garett followed the gaze of his son and refrained from speaking further. His face softened. "Very well!" He bellowed in agreement. “That's a spectacle of a lifetime!” One of the awe-stricken onlookers exclaimed. “Agreed, but sadly, like all shows, it must come to an end.” a man added solemnly, before slowly turning and beginning his descent away from the scene. In unison, the crowd followed suit, gradually dissipating as if it was a mere dream they had shared together. Until only a few remained—only those still in their state of utter fascination—standing there until their enthrallment faded away with them; like nothing ever happened. [[Continue|Explore City]]

Varus grabbed his sword and ran his fingers along its dull blade. He scowled in disgust, feeling his stomach knot up with disappointment. His voice was weighted as he uttered "Looks like I'll have to commission a new one," and with resignation he slipped the sword back into its sheath. Every movement felt sluggish, as if his grief-stricken heart could no longer bear the burden of wielding it. Claire's heart thudded with dread as she approached her father. "Father are you alright?" Varus' slumped posture made her throat tight, and when he raised his arms gingerly to embrace her, she almost wept. The hug was short-lived - merely a peck on the top of her head - before he stiffly stepped away again. "Let's leave," Varus said curtly, and began to move forward. His movements were met by stares and whispers trailing behind him, a sign of the gossip that was sure to come in the days ahead. Claire glanced apologetically at you, her gaze pained. "I apologize for my father's behavior. He wasn't always like this..." She shook her head sadly, her eyes still trained on him as he walked away from them. "What happened?" you asked softly, curious to what make Varus into the man he is now. Lucas spoke abruptly, breaking the silence. "His wife died." Garett quickly chastised Lucas for his candor, but Claire just sighed calmly. "It's alright Sir Garett," she said quietly. "There's no need to be delicate about it." Her voice trembled slightly as she said this, her expression haunted by the tragedy that had befallen her family. You couldn't help but feel your heart sink in response, wishing them all peace and comfort in their hour of mourning. "It was nice meeting you Garett, Lucas and <<print $player_name>>!" Claire said with a bright smile before she hurriedly followed after her father. "Come let us resume our journey!" Lucas urged and began striding forward. "You two go on ahead," came a deep voice that made the two of them stop in their tracks. They turned to find Garett standing there with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "I need to look a gift for Clara," he continued, placing a hand on Lucas' shoulder. "Must you father?" Lucas asked bemusedly, raising an inquisitive brow. Garett nodded his head slowly as if thinking over something silently for a few moments. A warm smile spread across his face when he finally spoke again, "Yes, I must. I have you know that Clara is like a daughter to me so I must take my leave. Besides, I believe the two of you would benefit from some quality time spent together. Enjoy yourselves.” With that, he cackled maniacally. "Mwahawahwawawha!" his voice echoing in the sector as he left the two of you alone. Lucas' piercing gaze met yours and he coughed, trying to break the tension. His voice barely more than a whisper, he asked “Would you like to link with my arm?” His left arm slowly bends at the elbow as he extends it towards his chest, creating an inviting triangle for your hand should you choose to join him. His eyes seem to plead with yours, asking without words. [[Yes, I would love to]] [[No thank you]] [[No becasue I want to hold hands together]]

"Thank you but I fear I must decline." you said delicately, though your mind was racing. You remembered the movies you'd watched that had taught you all about turning down a romantic offer. "I see," Lucas replied softly, his eyes full of pain and his arms slowly dropping to his sides. "Shall we?" he asked you, gesturing for you to take the first step. "Lead, and I shall follow," you said in an attempt to lighten the mood. You both began walking side by side and you noticed that Lucas's head often craned to the side, scanning the people who were getting too close or walking too near to you. You guessed that his protector instincts were kicking in. Just then, a carriage came out of nowhere at full speed. "MOVE!" the driver shouted. You froze in place like a deer caught in headlights, only this time there was no escape from being road-killed again, how ironic haha! But what's this? Strong arms encased in armor suddenly wrapped around you and pulled you close to him protectively. The thundering sound of galloping hooves pounded closer and closer, yet all you were aware of was Lucas' heartbeat hammering against yours and the warmth of his embrace. ”Are you alright?” Lucas asked, his blue eyes blazing with concern as he brushed your hair away from your face to search for any signs of head injuries. "I'm al-" you start to say but before you can complete your sentence, another question came streaming out of his mouth, filled with worry and protectiveness. "Do you want me to carry you?" he asks, adjusting his hold on you so that it will be more comfortable for you. "Truthfully, I'm fine!" You reply but the truth was written all over your blushingly red cheeks. "Hmm, you seem to be getting hotter." He muses. "What?" You blurt out as the flush in your cheeks intensified. "Your cheeks are becoming red as a tomato!” he says concerned. Then Lucas placed your head gently against his chest and raising his hand he removed one of his gauntlets and put it on your forehead. “I was right! I think you have a fever." His tone was serious now and his hand lightly stroked circles on your forehead. The sensation of his touch against your skin made your body malfunction and you could feel a wave of embarrassment and romantic giddiness washing over you at once. “I-I'm fine," You stammered nervously trying to distance yourself from the situation though every fiber of being craved Lucas’s closeness. You tremble in Lucas's presence and your knees quiver, dreading that he would reach out to embrace you again. Trying your best to hold your composure and with a shaky voice, you enunciate "See I'm fine". You spread out your arms as if to emphasize the point, but Lucas disregards it. His azure eyes relentlessly search for any physical signs of fatigue, like a hawk on its prey. His confident gaze, however soft, sends shivers down your spine. He finally stands up, the gauntlet around his hand reminding you of the daunting path ahead. As if reading your mind, Lucas declares "Very well but if you feel woozy or your feet hurts just say the world and I will carry you." His words reverberated around you and his promise echoed in the air like an oath. You could feel in his tone how much he wanted to protect you, no matter what. Lucas turned to you, his deep blue ocean eyes looking straight into your soul. "Walk close to me." he said softly and gently, that simple sentence almost like a promise. You looked up at him, the intensity in his gaze making your heart flutter. ''//You complied with his request and moved closer, standing side by side again. As you walked, you looked away for a moment and let out a small sigh as your desire became too strong to contain. You wanted nothing more than to be held in his strong arms - for him to carry you away from all this chaos and into the safety of his embrace. But you kept silent and looked ahead, letting the words remain unspoken.//'' ''(Varus' POV)'' As Varus continued to lead the way, his steps were heavy and slow. His thoughts were consumed by memories of his wife, her laughter and her touch. The sword that hung at his side was a constant reminder of her, the weapon she had helped him choose and had watched him train with. Lost in thought, Varus almost missed the sound of footsteps trailing behind him. He turned around to see Claire walking towards him, her eyes filled with determination. "Father," she said softly, "I know how much mother meant to you. But you cannot let her death define you. You cannot let it consume you." Her words were gentle, but firm. Varus looked at his daughter, tears welling up in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "I cannot help it. She was everything to me." Claire stepped closer to him, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. "I know," she said. "But you have to try. Mother wouldn't want you to live the rest of your life in misery. She would want you to find joy and happiness again." Varus nodded slowly, the weight of his daughter's words sinking in. He looked down at his sword, the one his wife had helped him choose, and felt a sense of determination wash over him. "You're right," he said. "I have been letting my grief consume me. But no more. I will honor your mother's memory by living my life to the fullest." Claire smiled, a sense of relief flooding through her. "I'm glad to hear that, father. We'll get through this together." As they resumed their journey towards the plaza, Varus felt a newfound sense of purpose. He would honor his wife's memory by living a fulfilling life, and he would do it alongside his daughter. But deep down in his heart and soul a voice whispers. A wicked cackle filled the air and Varus was sent into a deep shock. ''//"Do you want to see your wife again?"//'' it says, cackling. he heard. He spun around searching for the source of the voice. His surroundings suddenly became deathly gloomy, a dense fog wrapping around him, freezing him down to his marrow. His daughter vanished before his eyes, along with the other people in the plaza, swallowed up by an abyss of darkness and emptiness. "Who said that?" Varus cried out fearfully. A sinister laugh echoed from the depths of darkness as it began to swirl around him like a maelstrom of malicious energy. ''//"I have the power if you wish to see her again!"//'' The voice taunted malevolently. Varus drew his damaged sword, ready to face whatever evil force was threatening him. "Show yourself, coward!" he yelled, his voice filled with anger and determination. The darkness seemed to recede slightly, revealing a figure standing in the center of the plaza. It was a woman, her face obscured by a hooded cloak. She seemed to be beckoning him, and Varus felt a strange pull towards her. Slowly, he approached the woman, his sword at the ready. As he drew closer, the woman lifted her head, revealing a face that sent a jolt of shock through Varus' body. ''It was his wife.'' Tears streamed down Varus' face as he fell to his knees before her. "Is it really you?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. His wife smiled down at him, her hand reaching out to touch his face. "Yes, my love," she said. "I am here." Varus felt immense joy swell in his chest, and he fell to his knees in awe of the sight before him. "Oh, Cassandra," he whispers, tears streaming down his face as he glances up at her. "I missed you so much." "My love, I miss you too," she replies fondly, a tear slipping from her eye. But suddenly, without warning, a grotesque hand materializes from the fog and wraps its cold fingers around her petite figure. "Wait! Don't go!" Varus pleads desperately, heartbroken as he watches his beloved vanish within the mist. Casandra's voice echoed in the air one last time: "I will wait for you Varus." "Wait!" He shouted in desperation. But it was too late; the fog had already consumed her figure. His voice chocked on anguish and pain as he yelled out his beloved's name for one last time: "CASSANDRA!". The darkness seemed to swirl faster, the laughter growing more sinister with each passing moment. "What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice trembling with fear and desperation. ''//"I want your loyalty."//'' the voice whispered. ''//"And in exchange, I will bring your wife back to you."//'' another cloaked figure materialize in front of him. Varus hesitated, his heart torn between the desire to see his wife again and the fear of what this dark entity might demand of him. But the pain of his loss was still too fresh, and his longing for Cassandra too great. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice heavy with resignation. The cloaked figure stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with a fervor that made Varus uneasy. ''//"Your daughter,"//'' she said, her voice low and dangerous. ''//"I want your daughter."//'' Varus' blood ran cold. "No," he spat out, his sword raised in defense. "I will not let you harm her." The figure laughed, a cruel sound that sent shivers down Varus' spine. ''//"You misunderstand, dear Varus."//'' she said. ''//"I do not intend to harm her. I merely require her presence."//'' Varus hesitated, his mind racing with fear and indecision. Could he trust this entity? Could he risk her daughter in exhange for her wife. ''//"Why would you want her presense?"//'' Varus ask peculairly. The figure smiled, her lips curving into a cruel smirk. ''//"Let's just say she has a certain...skill set that I require for my own purposes."//'' Varus felt a chill run down his spine at the woman's words. "What kind of skill set?" The figure chuckled. ''//"I'm afraid that's not for you to know, dear Varus. All you need to know is that if you want to see your wife again, you will bring your daughter to me."//'' Varus weighed his options, his mind racing with fear and desperation. He couldn't bear the thought of losing his daughter, but the pain of losing his wife was already too much to bear. ''//"I need time to think,"//'' he said, his voice heavy with emotion. The figure nodded, her hooded face unreadable. ''//"Of course, Varus. Take all the time you need. But remember, time is of the essence."//'' ''//"On the second night of a full moon, come with your daughter to the cave of Songixone - The Raging Inferno! Its walls will reverberate with the thunderous sound of fury, while its entrance will be illuminated by an eerie glow. Bring her to seal the deal, and prepare to reunite with your wife once more. //'' The figure spoke with a mesmerizing resonance and then, like a puff of smoke, it had disappeared into the ebony abyss that surrounded her. Varus was left completely alone amidst the eerie silence, when suddenly the fog evaporated. As if by some otherworldly command, he found himself back in the plaza once again. A worried Claire stepped forward and addressed her father, her gentle voice quivering as she asked,"Is something the matter Father?" "There's nothing wrong my sweet, my mind just foggy that's all! Come let's go to your favorite bakery when you were little." Varus and Claire arrived to the bakery despite the picturesque surroundings, with Varus' mind occupied by the words of the darkly-cloaked figure. He then looked to Claire with a wide smile on her face, a beacon of light in the dark world he had been thrown into. With the sun shining upon her, she resembled an angel, standing against all evil. "Forgive me!" Varus rasped in a sorrowful tone for he was aware that he must make an infernal pact with the devi; if he wished to be reunited with his beloved Cassandra. He would have to pull out the angelic wings from his daughter's back if he yearned for his wife’s embrace once more. ''(MC's POV)'' Your gaze kept sliding towards Lucas' face, your mind completely occupied with his offer. You found yourself admiring each and every feature of his handsome face. Then before you knew it, his penetrating eyes met yours and the entire world seemed to still around you. His brows raised in confusion as he asked "Is something wrong?" Panic suddenly flooded your veins and you quickly shifted your gaze away from him, trying to occupy yourself with anything else that wasn't Lucas. However deep inside you felt a strange thrill at the thought of getting caught by those intense eyes. "I also noticed that you keep looking at my face, am I making you uncomfortable?" Lucas' voice was tinged with concern and suspicion. His gaze was unwavering, never faltering as he asked his question. You could feel the intensity of his stare burning into you like a ferocious bolt of lightning, making you squirm in discomfort. Your heart raced as you tried to find the right words. He had noticed your small glances, each one more lingering than the previous one. ''//Looks like somebody is being very obvious, haha//'' [[You're very distracting]] [[Because I'm just nervous that's all]] [[You need to stop pestering me about my well-being every other minute]]

"No!" you exclaimed heatedly, and suddenly Lucas's eyes became clouded with immense pain as his arm began to sink slowly. But you quickly reached out your hand and grabbed his tightly, feeling the coldness of the metal gauntlets he was wearing on your skin. "For I want to hold hands with you," you said in a gentle voice, playfully winking at him for an added effect. Lucas erupted into hearty laughter. "You, my <<print $player_name>>, are really decisive," he said sweetly and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "What can I say? I'm quite charming," you jested, snickering as well. His face lit up as he smiled genuinely. "And beautiful too, if I may add." Your heart thumped in delight and your cheeks flushed red hot; you looked at Lucas and saw that his expression had not changed. He asked calmly, "Shall we?" "Lead the way and I will follow," you answer in a trembling voice, your stomach doing flip flops inside. The two of you started on the journey once more towards the castle but every now and then, you would steal glances at Lucas as his words replayed over and over again in your mind. The atmosphere between you grew increasingly intense with each step. Now, what if you ask Lucas hand into something more personal? The prospect made you wanna faint, your mind imagined a scene, a rather romantic scene . ''//His eyes met yours and he froze with an astonished look on his face. The sun was setting, the birds were singing their melodies, and the bells of the nearby chapel were ringing out loud in celebration of your love. Rice flew through the air as people watched in admiration, cheering as Lucas pulled you close and dipped you low, looking deeply into your eyes.//'' ''(Varus' POV)'' As Varus continued to lead the way, his steps were heavy and slow. His thoughts were consumed by memories of his wife, her laughter and her touch. The sword that hung at his side was a constant reminder of her, the weapon she had helped him choose and had watched him train with. Lost in thought, Varus almost missed the sound of footsteps trailing behind him. He turned around to see Claire walking towards him, her eyes filled with determination. "Father," she said softly, "I know how much mother meant to you. But you cannot let her death define you. You cannot let it consume you." Her words were gentle, but firm. Varus looked at his daughter, tears welling up in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "I cannot help it. She was everything to me." Claire stepped closer to him, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. "I know," she said. "But you have to try. Mother wouldn't want you to live the rest of your life in misery. She would want you to find joy and happiness again." Varus nodded slowly, the weight of his daughter's words sinking in. He looked down at his sword, the one his wife had helped him choose, and felt a sense of determination wash over him. "You're right," he said. "I have been letting my grief consume me. But no more. I will honor your mother's memory by living my life to the fullest." Claire smiled, a sense of relief flooding through her. "I'm glad to hear that, father. We'll get through this together." As they resumed their journey towards the plaza, Varus felt a newfound sense of purpose. He would honor his wife's memory by living a fulfilling life, and he would do it alongside his daughter. But deep down in his heart and soul a voice whispers. A wicked cackle filled the air and Varus was sent into a deep shock. ''//"Do you want to see your wife again?"//'' it says, cackling. he heard. He spun around searching for the source of the voice. His surroundings suddenly became deathly gloomy, a dense fog wrapping around him, freezing him down to his marrow. His daughter vanished before his eyes, along with the other people in the plaza, swallowed up by an abyss of darkness and emptiness. "Who said that?" Varus cried out fearfully. A sinister laugh echoed from the depths of darkness as it began to swirl around him like a maelstrom of malicious energy. ''//"I have the power if you wish to see her again!"//'' The voice taunted malevolently. Varus drew his damaged sword, ready to face whatever evil force was threatening him. "Show yourself, coward!" he yelled, his voice filled with anger and determination. The darkness seemed to recede slightly, revealing a figure standing in the center of the plaza. It was a woman, her face obscured by a hooded cloak. She seemed to be beckoning him, and Varus felt a strange pull towards her. Slowly, he approached the woman, his sword at the ready. As he drew closer, the woman lifted her head, revealing a face that sent a jolt of shock through Varus' body. ''It was his wife.'' Tears streamed down Varus' face as he fell to his knees before her. "Is it really you?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. His wife smiled down at him, her hand reaching out to touch his face. "Yes, my love," she said. "I am here." Varus felt immense joy swell in his chest, and he fell to his knees in awe of the sight before him. "Oh, Cassandra," he whispers, tears streaming down his face as he glances up at her. "I missed you so much." "My love, I miss you too," she replies fondly, a tear slipping from her eye. But suddenly, without warning, a grotesque hand materializes from the fog and wraps its cold fingers around her petite figure. "Wait! Don't go!" Varus pleads desperately, heartbroken as he watches his beloved vanish within the mist. Casandra's voice echoed in the air one last time: "I will wait for you Varus." "Wait!" He shouted in desperation. But it was too late; the fog had already consumed her figure. His voice chocked on anguish and pain as he yelled out his beloved's name for one last time: "CASSANDRA!". The darkness seemed to swirl faster, the laughter growing more sinister with each passing moment. "What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice trembling with fear and desperation. ''//"I want your loyalty."//'' the voice whispered. ''//"And in exchange, I will bring your wife back to you."//'' another cloaked figure materialize in front of him. Varus hesitated, his heart torn between the desire to see his wife again and the fear of what this dark entity might demand of him. But the pain of his loss was still too fresh, and his longing for Cassandra too great. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice heavy with resignation. The cloaked figure stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with a fervor that made Varus uneasy. ''//"Your daughter,"//'' she said, her voice low and dangerous. ''//"I want your daughter."//'' Varus' blood ran cold. "No," he spat out, his sword raised in defense. "I will not let you harm her." The figure laughed, a cruel sound that sent shivers down Varus' spine. ''//"You misunderstand, dear Varus."//'' she said. ''//"I do not intend to harm her. I merely require her presence."//'' Varus hesitated, his mind racing with fear and indecision. Could he trust this entity? Could he risk her daughter in exhange for her wife. ''//"Why would you want her presense?"//'' Varus ask peculairly. The figure smiled, her lips curving into a cruel smirk. ''//"Let's just say she has a certain...skill set that I require for my own purposes."//'' Varus felt a chill run down his spine at the woman's words. "What kind of skill set?" The figure chuckled. ''//"I'm afraid that's not for you to know, dear Varus. All you need to know is that if you want to see your wife again, you will bring your daughter to me."//'' Varus weighed his options, his mind racing with fear and desperation. He couldn't bear the thought of losing his daughter, but the pain of losing his wife was already too much to bear. ''//"I need time to think,"//'' he said, his voice heavy with emotion. The figure nodded, her hooded face unreadable. ''//"Of course, Varus. Take all the time you need. But remember, time is of the essence."//'' ''//"On the second night of a full moon, come with your daughter to the cave of Songixone - The Raging Inferno! Its walls will reverberate with the thunderous sound of fury, while its entrance will be illuminated by an eerie glow. Bring her to seal the deal, and prepare to reunite with your wife once more. //'' The figure spoke with a mesmerizing resonance and then, like a puff of smoke, it had disappeared into the ebony abyss that surrounded her. Varus was left completely alone amidst the eerie silence, when suddenly the fog evaporated. As if by some otherworldly command, he found himself back in the plaza once again. A worried Claire stepped forward and addressed her father, her gentle voice quivering as she asked,"Is something the matter Father?" "There's nothing wrong my sweet, my mind just foggy that's all! Come let's go to your favorite bakery when you were little." Varus and Claire arrived to the bakery despite the picturesque surroundings, with Varus' mind occupied by the words of the darkly-cloaked figure. He then looked to Claire with a wide smile on her face, a beacon of light in the dark world he had been thrown into. With the sun shining upon her, she resembled an angel, standing against all evil. "Forgive me!" Varus rasped in a sorrowful tone for he was aware that he must make an infernal pact with the devi; if he wished to be reunited with his beloved Cassandra. He would have to pull out the angelic wings from his daughter's back if he yearned for his wife’s embrace once more. ''(MC's POV)'' Your body convulsed uncontrollably, and you couldn't make sense of what had just happened. You were once so self-assured, but Lucas's words shattered your composure like a crystal vase on cold marble flooring. Now, with Lucas by your side, holding your hand amidst the chaos of the moment, you trembled like an aspen leaf in a summer breeze. "Is something wrong?" Lucas asked you, his eyes brimming with concern. "Nope, nothing at all," you replied hurriedly, hoping to conceal the turmoil brewing within you. A nervous chuckle escaped your lips, betraying the mess that you truly were. Lucas raised your hand that is interlocked with his, immediately feeling their telltale vibration. "Then why are your hands shaking so violently?" he asked softly, his gaze focused intently on yours. The world around you seemed to fade into blackness as you realized the full extent of your unraveling emotions. What was happening to you? Had Lucas shattered your emotional walls with just one simple compliment? You struggled to keep breathing evenly and steady yourself as reality set in -- this was only the beginning of something much more intense and climatic. [[You're very distracting]] [[Because I'm just nervous that's all]] [[You need to stop pestering me about my well-being every other minute]]

“Because I'm just feeling a bit anxious. That's all." you blurt out, hoping your voice would not give away the real reason. Lucas takes a step closer and peers into your eyes with curiosity. "What for?" he inquires. You freeze, unable to say what was running through your mind. You had only known Lucas for a few hours, but in that short span of time, you were already feeling inexplicably drawn towards him. It scared you, so instead you reply with a quick lie. "Oh, I just... because I'm meeting the king." "You don't need to worry about the king - he´s the most reasonable person. He reassures you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before releasing them again. "It’s Clara who you should worry about.” His tone turns grave as he stares into your eyes. “Why? What makes her so terrifying?” You asked cautiously, looks like Clara's reputation is very legendary it seems. A shiver ran through Lucas’ body as he remembered all the stories he had heard of her mischievousness and devilishness. “If she sets her sights on something or someone, she will stop at nothing to have them in her grasp like an unstoppable griffin. Her power is ruthless and unyielding, so be sure not to cross her if you can help it.” He says wryly. Lucas stopped abruptly and turned to face you. "I have something to ask you," he said, his expression serious. "What is it?" you asked, your heart throbbing in anticipation. Is this the moment that could change everything? "Would you-" your mind started to form the last sentence, but before the words left your lips, Lucas interjected with a surprising offer. "Would you like some pudding?" He motioned towards a small stand across the street with a line of people waiting for their much-desired treat. You were taken aback, not expecting such an answer. You looked into his eyes, searching for an explanation and saw something more than what was offered on the surface. Was this his way of saying that he wanted to know more about you? Your heart almost leaped out of your chest as you finally uttered the word,"Yes". Lucas smiled at you and took your hand, leading you towards the pudding stand. As you waited in line, you found yourself unable to stop staring at him. His presence was so comforting, yet so electrifying. [[Continue|Questions For Lucas]]

"You're very distracting!" you say with a huff. Lucas chuckled at your statement, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I can't help it if you're easily distracted," he said with a teasing grin. You rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn't help but feel a warm flush creep up your neck. You had to admit, Lucas had a way of making you feel like the center of the universe. As you continued to walk, your mind raced with possibilities. What if you took Lucas's hand and led him somewhere private? Somewhere where you could explore these new emotions and feelings that he had awoken within you. Before you could even contemplate the idea, Lucas stopped abruptly and turned to face you. "I have something to ask you," he said, his expression serious. "What is it?" you asked, your heart throbbing in anticipation. Is this the moment that could change everything? "Would you-" your mind started to form the last sentence, but before the words left your lips, Lucas interjected with a surprising offer. "Would you like some pudding?" He motioned towards a small stand across the street with a line of people waiting for their much-desired treat. You were taken aback, not expecting such an answer. You looked into his eyes, searching for an explanation and saw something more than what was offered on the surface. Was this his way of saying that he wanted to know more about you? Your heart almost leaped out of your chest as you finally uttered the word,"Yes". Lucas smiled at you and took your hand, leading you towards the pudding stand. As you waited in line, you found yourself unable to stop staring at him. His presence was so comforting, yet so electrifying. [[Continue|Questions For Lucas]]

"You need to stop pestering me about my well-being every other minute," you say through gritted teeth, your nerves frayed from the never-ending thrill coursing through your veins. You wonder how long your heart can bear this excitement. "Firstly, I'm relieved that there's nothing amiss with you," Lucas states emphatically as he and you kept walking forward "Secondly, I cannot neglect my duties. The king has instructed me to keep a watchful eye on all of his guests, and rest assured, I will carry out this task to the best of my ability. If at any point I feel it necessary to inquire about your well-being, know that I shall not hesitate." His words were delivered like an order from a seasoned general. You roll your eyes as you huff and grumble, "I'm not some child that needs to be watched, Lucas." The Royal Protector of the kingdom slowly draws in a deep breath as he regards you with an unreadable expression. His voice takes on a familiar velvet-like tone as he speaks, "<<print $player_name>>, I am perfectly aware that you are not a child. But take my duties very seriously and I will always put my role as the Royal Protector before anything else." "I understand," you say, your voice softening as you realize the sincerity and dedication in his words. "I appreciate it, Lucas." He nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It is my duty to serve and please, <<print $player_name>>" he smiles at you tenderly. The two of you continue walking in comfortable silence, the tension between you easing up. As you walk, you can't help but feel a sense of safety and security being in Lucas's presence. You stole a glance at him, taking in his tall and muscular frame, the way his armor clung to his body in all the right places. For a moment, you had the sudden urge to reach out and run your hands over the hard planes of his chest. You quickly shook the thought out of your head, feeling a blush creeping up your neck. You couldn't help but wonder though, what would it feel like to be swept off your feet by the Royal Protector? The thought both thrilled and scared you. As the both of you walk through the plaza, Lucas stopped abruptly and turned to face you. "I have something to ask you," he said, his expression serious. "What is it?" you asked, your heart throbbing in anticipation. Is this the moment that could change everything? "Would you-" your mind started to form the last sentence, but before the words left your lips, Lucas interjected with a surprising offer. "Would you like some pudding?" He motioned towards a small stand across the street with a line of people waiting for their much-desired treat. You were taken aback, not expecting such an answer. You looked into his eyes, searching for an explanation and saw something more than what was offered on the surface. Was this his way of saying that he wanted to know more about you? Your heart almost leaped out of your chest as you finally uttered the word,"Yes". Lucas smiled at you and took your hand, leading you towards the pudding stand. As you waited in line, you found yourself unable to stop staring at him. His presence was so comforting, yet so electrifying. [[Continue|Questions For Lucas]]

Your response was immediate, your heart beating rapidly as you looked up at Lucas with awe. "Yes, I would love to," you whispered softly, linking your arm in his. He smiled back at you with a twinkle in his eyes, and bowed graciously. “I am truly privileged that you accepted my invitation,” he said with heartfelt appreciation, his baritone exuding the poise of a man who had seen more than his share. You felt a tremor course through your spine as the gravity of this journey settled in; it would alter all that you knew forevermore. You felt the tautness of Lucas' frame beneath your palm, despite the armor draped on him. His cautionary gaze and vigilant scan of his surroundings beguiled you, sending flutters through your heart. Suddenly he came to a halt. "Wait here," he commanded, and moments later a carriage clattered past accompanied by the sound of its horses' hooves splashing upon a puddle nearby. Lucas reacted with preternatural swiftness, whipping around to drape his long, burnished red cloak over you before the droplets could reach you. "Thank you," you murmured with grateful admiration. "There is no need for thanks," Lucas replied with an alluring grin that revealed his twinkling blue eyes, melting your heart like wax. Alas, the moment was short-lived as he offered his hand and bade "Shall we?" ''//The butterflies in your stomach were now in a frenzied unison as you gave but one word in reply: "Lead." With clasped hands, you continued forth towards the castle, not knowing what perils lurked ahead. However, in your mind there was only one outcome - Lucas carrying you princess-style across tiny rivers and streams! Now you started to wish that a flood would came in and Lucas will rescue you.//'' ''(Varus' POV)'' As Varus continued to lead the way, his steps were heavy and slow. His thoughts were consumed by memories of his wife, her laughter and her touch. The sword that hung at his side was a constant reminder of her, the weapon she had helped him choose and had watched him train with. Lost in thought, Varus almost missed the sound of footsteps trailing behind him. He turned around to see Claire walking towards him, her eyes filled with determination. "Father," she said softly, "I know how much mother meant to you. But you cannot let her death define you. You cannot let it consume you." Her words were gentle, but firm. Varus looked at his daughter, tears welling up in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "I cannot help it. She was everything to me." Claire stepped closer to him, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. "I know," she said. "But you have to try. Mother wouldn't want you to live the rest of your life in misery. She would want you to find joy and happiness again." Varus nodded slowly, the weight of his daughter's words sinking in. He looked down at his sword, the one his wife had helped him choose, and felt a sense of determination wash over him. "You're right," he said. "I have been letting my grief consume me. But no more. I will honor your mother's memory by living my life to the fullest." Claire smiled, a sense of relief flooding through her. "I'm glad to hear that, father. We'll get through this together." As they resumed their journey towards the plaza, Varus felt a newfound sense of purpose. He would honor his wife's memory by living a fulfilling life, and he would do it alongside his daughter. But deep down in his heart and soul a voice whispers. A wicked cackle filled the air and Varus was sent into a deep shock. ''//"Do you want to see your wife again?"//'' it says, cackling. he heard. He spun around searching for the source of the voice. His surroundings suddenly became deathly gloomy, a dense fog wrapping around him, freezing him down to his marrow. His daughter vanished before his eyes, along with the other people in the plaza, swallowed up by an abyss of darkness and emptiness. "Who said that?" Varus cried out fearfully. A sinister laugh echoed from the depths of darkness as it began to swirl around him like a maelstrom of malicious energy. ''//"I have the power if you wish to see her again!"//'' The voice taunted malevolently. Varus drew his damaged sword, ready to face whatever evil force was threatening him. "Show yourself, coward!" he yelled, his voice filled with anger and determination. The darkness seemed to recede slightly, revealing a figure standing in the center of the plaza. It was a woman, her face obscured by a hooded cloak. She seemed to be beckoning him, and Varus felt a strange pull towards her. Slowly, he approached the woman, his sword at the ready. As he drew closer, the woman lifted her head, revealing a face that sent a jolt of shock through Varus' body. ''It was his wife.'' Tears streamed down Varus' face as he fell to his knees before her. "Is it really you?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. His wife smiled down at him, her hand reaching out to touch his face. "Yes, my love," she said. "I am here." Varus felt immense joy swell in his chest, and he fell to his knees in awe of the sight before him. "Oh, Cassandra," he whispers, tears streaming down his face as he glances up at her. "I missed you so much." "My love, I miss you too," she replies fondly, a tear slipping from her eye. But suddenly, without warning, a grotesque hand materializes from the fog and wraps its cold fingers around her petite figure. "Wait! Don't go!" Varus pleads desperately, heartbroken as he watches his beloved vanish within the mist. Casandra's voice echoed in the air one last time: "I will wait for you Varus." "Wait!" He shouted in desperation. But it was too late; the fog had already consumed her figure. His voice chocked on anguish and pain as he yelled out his beloved's name for one last time: "CASSANDRA!". The darkness seemed to swirl faster, the laughter growing more sinister with each passing moment. "What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice trembling with fear and desperation. ''//"I want your loyalty."//'' the voice whispered. ''//"And in exchange, I will bring your wife back to you."//'' another cloaked figure materialize in front of him. Varus hesitated, his heart torn between the desire to see his wife again and the fear of what this dark entity might demand of him. But the pain of his loss was still too fresh, and his longing for Cassandra too great. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice heavy with resignation. The cloaked figure stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with a fervor that made Varus uneasy. ''//"Your daughter,"//'' she said, her voice low and dangerous. ''//"I want your daughter."//'' Varus' blood ran cold. "No," he spat out, his sword raised in defense. "I will not let you harm her." The figure laughed, a cruel sound that sent shivers down Varus' spine. ''//"You misunderstand, dear Varus."//'' she said. ''//"I do not intend to harm her. I merely require her presence."//'' Varus hesitated, his mind racing with fear and indecision. Could he trust this entity? Could he risk her daughter in exhange for her wife. ''//"Why would you want her presense?"//'' Varus ask peculairly. The figure smiled, her lips curving into a cruel smirk. ''//"Let's just say she has a certain...skill set that I require for my own purposes."//'' Varus felt a chill run down his spine at the woman's words. "What kind of skill set?" The figure chuckled. ''//"I'm afraid that's not for you to know, dear Varus. All you need to know is that if you want to see your wife again, you will bring your daughter to me."//'' Varus weighed his options, his mind racing with fear and desperation. He couldn't bear the thought of losing his daughter, but the pain of losing his wife was already too much to bear. ''//"I need time to think,"//'' he said, his voice heavy with emotion. The figure nodded, her hooded face unreadable. ''//"Of course, Varus. Take all the time you need. But remember, time is of the essence."//'' ''//"On the second night of a full moon, come with your daughter to the cave of Songixone - The Raging Inferno! Its walls will reverberate with the thunderous sound of fury, while its entrance will be illuminated by an eerie glow. Bring her to seal the deal, and prepare to reunite with your wife once more. //'' The figure spoke with a mesmerizing resonance and then, like a puff of smoke, it had disappeared into the ebony abyss that surrounded her. Varus was left completely alone amidst the eerie silence, when suddenly the fog evaporated. As if by some otherworldly command, he found himself back in the plaza once again. A worried Claire stepped forward and addressed her father, her gentle voice quivering as she asked,"Is something the matter Father?" "There's nothing wrong my sweet, my mind just foggy that's all! Come let's go to your favorite bakery when you were little." Varus and Claire arrived to the bakery despite the picturesque surroundings, with Varus' mind occupied by the words of the darkly-cloaked figure. He then looked to Claire with a wide smile on her face, a beacon of light in the dark world he had been thrown into. With the sun shining upon her, she resembled an angel, standing against all evil. "Forgive me!" Varus rasped in a sorrowful tone for he was aware that he must make an infernal pact with the devi; if he wished to be reunited with his beloved Cassandra. He would have to pull out the angelic wings from his daughter's back if he yearned for his wife’s embrace once more. ''(MC's POV)'' Your heart raced as you glanced around the crowded plaza, watching people scuttle about their business. Loud arguments from vendors and fights between drunks echoed in your ears but your mind never wavered from the figure walking beside you. The familiar tangle of emotions surged in your stomach - excitement, fear and anticipation. Suddenly, several voices pierced your thoughts with gossip. "Look! Is that Lucas?" A high pitched voice exclaimed with astonishment. "And someone else? Lucky them!" Another responded and a cacophony of giggles followed. For one brief instance, everyone's attention was turned towards the two of you and you felt a rush of pride. Yes, today you were indeed lucky. “You should relax,” Lucas said softly and raised his hand to gently pat your forearm. His gauntlets felt cold against your skin, yet the gesture was tender and reassuring. You quivered in anticipation – what were those feelings? "What are you talking about? I'm relaxed," you proclaimed defensively while nervously laughing. A strange feeling spread throughout your body. "Ah, <<print $player_name>>. Even though I'm wearing all this armor and stuff, I can still sense the vibrations of your body. It's coming off of you in waves." he murmured with a smile. His voice sent shivers down your spine and electrified every nerve in your body. The way he looked at you with such intensity made you weak at the knees. Heat rushed through your veins and butterflies filled your stomach. [[You're very distracting]] [[Because I'm just nervous that's all]] [[You need to stop pestering me about my well-being every other minute]]

You and Lucas gracefully lined up, him looking handsomely gallant as he stood alone and you standing proudly beside him, making sure to keep a respectful distance from the other people in the queue. Suddenly, a beautiful noblewoman stepped forward and addressed Lucas with her gentle voice. "Excuse me?" Lucas bowed his head in respect before replying. "Yes, Madam? How can I be of assistance?" "Are you the Royal Protector?" she asked sweetly. "Yes, I am," Lucas answered confidently. "Well, Sir if you're not busy can you accompany my friends and me for tea this lovely afternoon?" then she points behind her where you see a couple of girls waving at Lucas and giggling. You were filled with raging jealousy at the request that the girl directed solely towards Lucas, completely disregarding your presence. Yet, you bit your tongue and kept quiet. Lucas' gaze flickered from yours, and he bowed his head in an apologetic gesture. "I'm sorry Madam," he stated solemnly, "but my comapany is already taken." He gently extended his arm, pointing at you with a tender look in his eyes. You felt your heart leap out of your chest as you realized the magnitude of his words. The noblewoman's face fell in disappointment, but she quickly regained her composure and smiled at you. "My apologies, I did not realize. You must be very lucky to have such a handsome and chivalrous man by your side," she said with a polite curtsy before walking away with her group of friends. You felt a mix of emotions- relief, gratitude, and a sense of smugness at the fact that Lucas had chosen you over the noblewoman. You couldn't help but bask in the attention and admiration that he was giving you. You could see the respect and adoration in his eyes, and it made you feel like the most special person in the world. Your heart seemed to leap up in your throat as a warning voice slowly crept into your head. "Is Lucas really doing this out of the kindess of his heart, or is it just an act that he must perform for his loyalty to the king?" The question sent chills down your spine, and you found yourself growling at the voice in frustration as anxiety began to set in. A familiar voice snaps you out of your trance. "The line seems to be long," he murmurs, gesturing towards the end of the line. "Why don't you ask me any questions that you want to ask of me? We can make the most out of this time." You tilt you head and take in the sight- indeed, there are still many people in line, at least a good thirty minutes just to get to the front. As if understanding your thoughts, Lucas move closer to you. "It looks like a long journey," he muses, and you laugh softly. But what had sounded like a joke was actually a promise for both of you - an adventure filled with surprises. <<linkreplace "Does being the Royal Protector makes you happy?">> The line inched forward, and you two shuffled along with it. You dared to break the silence between you, summoning up the courage to ask Lucas a question that had been playing on your mind for some time. "Do you find true joy in being the Royal Protector?" Lucas stopped, turning his head to fix you with a somber look. "Both Yes and No," he sighed deeply. You couldn't help but urge him on, "Can you elaborate more?". He gazed up at the overcast sky, his expression resolute yet fragile. When he spoke again, his voice was filled with emotion that could only come from someone who had faced hardship and triumphed against it. "It brings me great joy to protect those I love, however it also comes with a deep sorrow as I have seen too much pain in my life." Lucas was chained to the memories of agony and despair, "So many deaths.. their screams still ringing in my ears," he muttered. You touched his shoulder gently in a gesture of comfort. “I'm sorry I didn't know,” you said to him softly. A thin smile formed on Lucas's lips as he turned towards you, seemingly appreciating your gesture despite the grim circumstances, "It's alright." He paused for a moment, and it felt like an eternity. Then he spoke again,his words carrying an unfamiliar weight this time, "You're actually the first one to ask me about it." His strained expression softened at last, gradually replaced by a glimmer of hope. "But can we please talk about something else?" he pleaded. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "What is the meaning of Deathborn?">> “Deathborn!” the deep tones of Varus reverberated throughout the area earlier, searing into your mind as your heart raced. You cautiously move close to Lucas, hesitating as if waiting for his response to your question earlier. You swallowed, trying to rid yourself of the dread that filled your veins, and you softly asked him “Can you tell me what exactly is this Deathborn?” Lucas stared back at you with a stoic expression on his face as he spoke. “Deathborn is an orphan who was taken in by a noble house.” His words made sense to you and like a switch being flipped, understanding dawned upon you. How could Garett have had a child when he isn’t married to any woman. Lucas continued in a low voice, almost as if talking to himself. “Varus called me that because it's true - and also because he blames me for the death of his wife.” Your breath hitched as Lucas revealed this information, and every inch of your body felt uneasy. You sensed that there was more to the story, and you urged Lucas to tell you more. "What happened to her?" you asked softly, trying to be as sympathetic as possible. Lucas's chest heaved as he took a deep breath, his eyes flickering with a troubled expression. "It was supposed to be a peaceful night," he began, voice thick with emotion. "Varus and I were on good terms then, but now our bond has been shattered irreparably." "I was dining with the Woulfe family when it all happened so fast." Lucas paused, taking another shuddering breath. "We were ambushed by ruthless cutthroats in the very sanctity of their home." "Varus commanded me to escort his precious daughter Claire to safety through the secret passage. And I did just that - fighting valiantly against those devils, protecting Claire with my life. Once we reached the end of the tunnel, I secured Claire in a safe haven outside the manor and went back into the flames." Lucas's jaw tightened at the memory of the inferno that had consumed the house. "Those bastards started setting fires everywhere...I could feel Varus's rage and despair weighing heavy on my heart as I fought for survival and honor amidst the chaos." "The burning house was near to collapse, the fire licked its every corner as I trekked through it in search of Varus and Cassandra. At last, when I saw them, they stood surrounded by a horde of villainous intruders. Without wasting time, I could feel my blood boiling and heard a warrior's cry burst out from within me while I slaughtered all of them single-handedly. The warm sensation of the spilled blood only enraged the blazing fire even further. I shouted for Varus and Cassandra to leave the room before it was too late. I made sure that Varus was behind me and Cassandra was at the back as we rushed towards the entrance. Suddenly, a wooden beam came crashing down between us. Cassandra reacted quickly and pushed Varus away from harm’s way. "He was like a man possessed, screaming her name and thrashing through the burning embers ,but in that dire moment, I knew I had to make a hard decision - I knocked Varus unconscious and carried him on my shoulders as I witnessed the whole house crumble taking away the life of his beloved wife." Lucas says in a somber tone. “That's so heartbreaking," you whisper, wanting to provide Lucas some comfort. "I understand, but the past cannot be changed and sometimes I think if his wife was still here, would he be the same man as he is now?" Lucas says sadly, his mind dwelling on a different time. Suddenly, there was a tugging at Lucas' cloak and a small boy stood beneath him. "Excuse me sir? Can you give me an autograph? Royal Protector?” the little boy pleaded with big puppy eyes. Lucas chuckled softly and smiled down at the youngster. "Of course! Of course I can." The little boy jumped triumphantly in joy. He quickly reached into his pocket and withdrew a small box with ink inside before asking Lucas for one last favor. "Can you please leave it on my forehead?" Lucas nodded his head in agreement and removed his gauntlet. Carefully dipping his thumb into the ink, he pressed it against the child's forehead. The imprint of Lucas' crest remained long after their exchange had finished. "Thank you so much!" the boy beamed with excitement and ran away, jumping and screaming in pure bliss and gaining the look of adonisment when he pushed a couple of people on his way. Lucas's gaze burned with envy. His lips curved into a bitter smirk as he spoke, wonder and longing in his voice. "I could only wish for that kind of happiness." He took a deep breath and the sigh that escaped him was heavy with yearning. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Can you tell me about Clara">> The line lurch forward, and soon you two were standing in the middle of a dense crowd. Your gaze lingered on Lucas as his entire being seemed to be taut with tension. His expression was troubled, his eyes clouded with anguish, and his fists trembling in rage. You wanted to help him get through this difficult time and take his mind off from the tragedy earlier. A spark of hope ignited inside you and you cautiously asked,"Can you tell me about Clara?" Hoping that the scandalous princess reputation would dissolve Lucas's anguish and make him come alive once again. The sound of Lucas' laughter echoed throughout the train line and it drew in attention from all around. He quickly became conscious and tried to hide his embarrassment with a smirk. "Can you repeat that?" He asked, looking at you intently with surprise. "Well you did say that I should be wary of Clara so I got curious as to what actions would warrant her that kind of observation." You reasoned, your voice displaying a hint of confidence. The murmurs grew louder and the people around began to gaze upon you two. "Is the Royal Protector laughing?" A man gasped in awe. "You idiots, don't mind that but look at his companion, did the Royal Protector start to court? That is the question you should be asking." The woman said sternly and slapped the head of the man who had questioned. Lucas wipes away the tears of joy streaming down his face, and a few chuckles escape him from beneath the deep quiver in his voice. "Your response is sound, and so I shall give you a list of reasons to why you should be cautious of her." "It was a day like any other, the Princess was in her chambers and she had found out that Varus, was to visit her later that day. She however wanted to play a prank on him so she devised one of the most heinous pranks ever. She crafted an animal head made of straw and had it hung above his door when he walked in. When Varus tried to enter the room he got the shock of his life as the animal head fell right on top of him." Lucas pause for dramatic effect. "The princess deeds has know bounds." a man chuckles at the front of you, listening to the story. "But that was not all," Lucas continued with a more serious tone "Princess Clara also had a habit of sneaking out of the palace and roam about in disguise around town, often going to pubs or markets. On one fateful night, Clara decided to go to one pub and while there created quite some ruckus by starting a bar fight. She managed to bash some skulls and knock a few heads before they were able to subdue her and take her back to the palace." "Aye, I still vividly recall the time she knocked out a couple of teeths. 'Who would have thought that,' I heard someone behind us gasp, 'for such a lean princess she can deliver a nasty haymaker?' followed by laughter from the crowd. "Looks like Clara likes to keep herself busy," you joined the laughter too with a smirk on your face before Lucas started narrating his tale, his bright smile widening with each passing second. "One afternoon, the princess asked me for a duel and even offered me tea before we did battle just to 'keep me hydrated.' At first, I was hesitant to drink it but Clara being persistent and having eyes that could tear up anytime soon made me succumb to her gentle offer. So I drank it, against my better judgement. The potion worked its magic soon enough; as our blades clashed, her smile broadened while mine faltered. Suddenly my stomach turned and before I knew it, I was sprinting towards the bathroom with what felt like a seething volcano in my pants." The entire line erupted into raucous laughter at Lucas's story and all eyes were now on him eagerly anticipating something else. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "So are you and Claire friends?">> You joined in friendly laughter with the merry crowd and soon, it died down to a low hum. You were astonished that Lucas, whom you had written as an aloof and rude character, changed for the better. Perhaps the Gods did one thing right afterall. Suddenly, an idea popped into your mind from nowhere and you couldn't shake it off. "So...are you and Claire friends?" You asked, trying to check if Lucas and her had something more going on between them. Lucas gave you a mysterious smirk as he replied,"Why do you ask?" His smile slowly widened as he watched you squirm under his gaze. "Isn't it obvious?" A woman sighed from your side, rolling her eyes. "The green-eyed beast is spewing its lies in ?mctheir ears!" "Oh?" Lucas crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, his gaze flickering from the woman back to you. “What? Don't listen to her?” you stammered, trying to hold back your indignation. The old woman's croon still pricked your skin like a dagger, and every fiber of your being yearned to silence her witchy tongue. "No need to worry <<print $player_name>>, me and Claire are just friends and nothing more." Lucas chuckled with a hint of amusement. "That's a relief," you let out a heavy sigh and give a grateful look upwards. "Relief eh?" Lucas muses on it, his face set in concentration. "I mean is that - ". You don't get to finish the sentence as the stall owner shouts impatiently, "Next!" You silently thank your lucky stars for yet another rescue from an awkward situation. You and Lucas approach the stand and your nostrils are met with a familiar,sumptous scent. You glance at the wooden bowl and foggy steam rises from a warm,smooth-textured pudding which lay there invitingly. "I promise you <<print $player_name>> that Haley here makes the best of pudding in the whole Kingdom Of Tiara!" Lucas bows his head in greeting as he intones reverently. A blush creeps onto Haley’s face as she shyly responds to Lucas’ words,"Oh shush, I bet you say that to all the pretty women Royal Protector." She rearranges her apron before she turns her gaze towards you. Her eyes twinkle with warmth as she asks what she can do for you both. Lucas clears his throat as he speaks,"I want two best of your puddings for me and my guest here." His voice is steady yet radiating authority. An amused smirk spreads across Haley's face as if she has something up her sleeves. She moves swiftly into action, grabbing a ladle and scooping some pouridge into a large container. Then with unparalleled precision, she ladles chocolate into another seperate container,followed by a generous drizzle of milk to add creamy texture and finally dusting it with sugar for sweet taste. "Here you go."Haley places the spoon atop the bowl and hands it to Lucas. But instead of taking it,he points towards the other bowl that was already done & prepared. "You don't need to make a new batch for us Haley, there's already 2 there",Lucas insists but Haley waves her hand dismissively,"Nonsense! These two I made extra special and besides we got a promo." Her eyes flick between the both of you before settling on Lucas. A mischievous smile appears on her lips,"A couple gets special treatment." She claps her hands together joyfully. Lucas took the bowl, eyes lingering on you for a second before quickly averting his gaze. "You misunderstand Haley," he breathed out in a soft yet strained voice, "Me and <<print $player_name>> are not a couple." Haley scoffed lightly and rested her chin on her palm. Her lips curved into an impish smirk as she prodded, "That's what you say Lucas, but I'm still waiting for <<print$player_name>>'s reply." Your heart raced and your palms were sweaty as you felt both their gazes on you, eagerly awaiting your response. It was apparent that this contentious matter meant more to them than either of them were letting on. You gulped nervously before summoning your courage and exclaiming with forced levity, “Welp, no pressure!". You felt like a wild animal in the cross-hairs, unable to escape the stares from both of them. With an uneasy laugh, you opened your mouth and thought - 'So this is what it feels like to be backed into a corner.' [[Yes, I agree with Lucas for we are soulmates]] [[I agree with Lucas, we are only friends]] [[Secret]] <</linkreplace>

You gave a gentle nod to Haley in agreement with Lucas, watching her expression shift with disappointment. "Nope!" "A shame," she muttered and looked away from the two of you. "Haley, we were just about to tell you that-" You jumped in before Lucas could finish, your voice ringing out loud and clear. "We are soulmates!" You declared confidently and heard gasps of surprise from around the area. Lucas suddenly went rigid, pudding stilled halfway to his lips. His eyes widened in shock as he stared at you incredulously. In his haste to react, he choked on his dessert and spat it out, stuttering: "P-pardon me?!" "YOU HEARD THAT FELLAS, WE GOT SOULMATES OVER HERE." Haley shouted with an emphatic yet joyful voice, stirring a joyous uproar from the crowd. "KISS...KISS...KISS...KISS!" The sound of their rhythmic chant echoed off the walls like a violent storm raging against the sea. Though it was meant well, it felt like a chaotic force was about to consume you whole. "Well it looks like you already got some admirers, Royal Protector." Haley giggled, her voice full of mischief and delight. Lucas cheeks started to warm up, blushing a soft crimson hue so faint that you almost had to lean close to witness it happen. Then without warning or word, Lucas turned around and in one powerful stride moved away swiftly as if chased by some invisible entity nobody could see. You two were left befuddled as you followed behind him until with a mischievous chuckle you heard Haley shout from behind you: "Don't be shy Lucas, we all experience that!" “Lucas!” You yelled desperately while chasing his figure, panting and trying your best to keep up with him, evading bodies and gaining a glare from some. But Lucas was walking at a speed too fast for you, and it made you feel hopeless. Finally he stopped in front of a statue and placed one bowl on the ledge of it. He spun around just in time for you to arrive, but as you stepped onto the ground, your feet screeched loudly, halting and sending you stumbling forward towards him. “Why did you have to say that?” He said in an ominously low voice. His eyes full of mystery and skepticism. You nervously smiled at him, trying to put him at ease “Is something wrong?” You asked cautiously as Lucas gaze hardened with every passing second that you delayed in giving him an answer. A low rumble of warning escaped Lucas’ lips as he stared at you with dark eyes. "You're playing with fire <<print $player_name>>," he said, his voice heavy with urgency and scorn. You rolled your eyes in response, frustration bubbling up inside you. "All I said was that we’re soulmates, nothing more—you don’t need to take the joke seriously." Suddenly, Lucas roared like a storm on the sea, making you flinch from his sudden burst of emotion. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides before he unleashed his anger on the platform of a nearby statue, causing it to crack under his strength. "THIS IS NOT A JOKE DAMN IT!" You felt your throat tighten as Lucas’ furious expression softened into profound sadness once he noticed your fear-filled gaze. He looked away for a moment and sighed deeply before apologetically meeting your eyes again. “I'm sorry...I'm sorry". He paused for a moment and continued, “I have many enemies <<print $player_name>>that I accumulated in the past and by shouting that we’re soulmates will make you an easy target for them.” Gently, he handed you a bowl of pudding before reclaiming his own from the ledge and sitting on a bench nearby, defeated. His body slumped in exhaustion as he wrapped his hands tightly around the bowl; you could hear it creak under the weight of his grip. You exclaimed in disbelief, your voice quivering between terror and shock. "Do they honestly intend to hurt me just to get to you?", you asked as your hands nervously fidgeted with the spoon in the bowl. Lucas' body slowly relaxed and he leaned back into the bench, a somber expression on his handsome face. "Sadly, my enemies have no honor or moral compass," he stated gravely, "They will do whatever it takes to harm those closest to me". His eyes then glazed over, seemingly lost in a different space and time. “That was what they did to my birth father.” Lucas said quietly, he murmured; sadness evident in each word. You waited for him to elaborate but instead, Lucas brought a spoonful of pudding up to his lips, closing his eyes and allowing himself a moment of peace and comfort as the sweet treat filled his mouth. Following suit, you picked up your own spoon and prepared to take a bite. A rich flavor burst across your tongue as you savored the creamy texture of this delightful dessert; its chewy texture pleasantly surprising you. You knew right away that you had found something to eat everytime, you came by here. The sun shone brightly in the azure sky, a cool breeze rustling through the air. People were laughing and children were playing, blissfully unaware of the tragedy that was approaching. Lucas’ words echoed in your ears, like a ghostly whisper. His constant push and pull, pushing you away whenever you wanted to get close. It felt like he was suffocating you with his pessimistic views that weighed heavily on your heart and seemed to drag you down into an abyss of sorrow and despair. Lucas voice draws you out of your thougths. “Clara was the one who told me about this place,” Lucas said with a laugh tinged with emotion. He paused for a moment before continuing, “Even though she can be annoying and makes my job hard, I'm thankful for her friendship and company.” His eyes sparkled with warmth as he looked at you. “How about you <<print$player_name>>? What's your first impression of me?” He asked, his voice soft and inviting. You nearly choked on your pudding and coughed out a weak response while trying to regain your composure. “Excuse me?” You finally managed to say. He leaned in closer, his gaze intense and unwavering as he explained, “Clara always tells me to ask other people's impressions of me so that I can work on myself. So feel free to be honest. I won't get angry...I promise.” Lucas stared at you expectantly, awaiting your answer. [[You're interesting and I wanna pry you apart]] [[Your kinda intimidating and brooding]] [[You're like a puzzle that I can't seem to decipher]]

"I concur with Lucas, we are only friends." you affirm Lucas' opinion. "Look Haley, even <<print $player_name>> themselves said it!" Lucas guffaws. "Oh please, love will always find its way to one's heart." Haley winks beguilingly. "Am I right folks?" She bellows in a vociferous manner and the crowd stirs into a frenzy. "Yeah, You two are just foolin' us all with your fakery!" an old man hollers from the back of the room, wearing overalls. His words were soon followed by murmurs of agreement from the other spectators. "Sorry everyone, I know that must be disappointing but what we have can simply be defined as pure friendship, nothing more than that." Lucas calmly addresses the crowd. His words cut deep into your heart like a knife as he dismissed any notion of romance between the two of you instantly and not thinking if its possible. You started to feel their judgmental stares weighing heavily on you when Haley snapped at him, “Oi Lucas stop that! You're bringing <<print $player_name>> down with your hurtful words!” She threw a spoon towards him which he easily dodged with great agility. Unable to take it any longer, you quickly declared defensively, “Huh? Me? No I'm just hungry that's all!” You tried to hide your feelings and thoughts but failed miserably as suspicion began to appear on Haley's face. "Really?" "Ease up on <<print $player_name>> Haley, I swear the Gods as my witness sometimes you're a vulture with your questions." Lucas jests lightheartedly as laughter erupts from behind you where a man stands donning ragged clothes . "He has certainly got that part right." the man guffaws and continues laughing uproariously. Haley huffed before pointing her index finger towards the old man and scolding him playfully, “No pudding for you Tom!" "Hey now Haley let's not be hasty.” The old man chuckled nervously before getting hushed by others. Lucas gingerly handed you your bowl of pudding, and gave a courteous bow as he addressed Haley. "Farewell, madam. <<print $player_name>> and I have obligation to tend to at the castle," Lucas declared with a solemn expression. "Bye!" You chanted in reply, trailing behind Lucas. "I will be rooting for you guys! C'mon, let's give <<print $player_name>> some support!" Haley's voice rose above the frenzied crowd. The chant began slowly and gradually gained momentum as the crowd continued to scream in unison "<<print $player_name>>...<<print $player_name>>...<<print$player_name>>...<<print $player_name>> !" The thunderous cry echoed through the air, shaking the very foundations of the castle walls. You slowly trudged forward, your ears still throbbing with the echoes of the spectators' thunderous applause. Lucas pointed to a small wooden bench nearby - a private pavilion from the hustle and bustle of the festivities. "Let's take a break and enjoy our treat." Lucas smiled at you as he spoke, his eyes twinkling. The sun cascaded through the trees and illuminated the vivid atmosphere around you; you felt like you were living in a dream. For a moment your worries dissipated, leaving just peace and contentment as Lucas smiled next to you. The two of you settled down, Lucas brought a spoonful of pudding up to his lips, closing his eyes and allowing himself a moment of peace and comfort as the sweet treat filled his mouth. Following suit, you picked up your own spoon and prepared to take a bite. A rich flavor burst across your tongue as you savored the creamy texture of this delightful dessert; its chewy texture pleasantly surprising you. You knew right away that you had found something to eat everytime, you came by here. “You did what was right, when you agreed with me.” Lucas said as he spooned himself another portion of his meal. You swallowed your food, that was still stuck in your mouth and asked him inquisitively, “Why?” The corner of Lucas' lips curled up into a wistful smile. “I have many enemies <<print $player_name>> that I accumulated in the past and by shouting that we’re a couple will make you an easy target for them.” You took another bite of your pudding. "Do they honestly intend to hurt me just to get to you?", you asked as your hands nervously fidgeted with the spoon in the bowl. Lucas' body slowly relaxed and he leaned back into the bench, a somber expression on his handsome face. "Sadly, my enemies have no honor or moral compass," he stated gravely, "They will do whatever it takes to harm those closest to me". His eyes then glazed over, seemingly lost in a different space and time. “That was what they did to my birth father.” Lucas said quietly, he murmured; sadness evident in each word. You waited for him to elaborate but instead, Lucas brought a spoonful of pudding up to his lips, closing his eyes and allowing himself a moment of peace and comfort as the sweet treat filled his mouth. Following suit, you picked up your own spoon and prepared to take a bite once more. “Clara was the one who told me about this place,” Lucas said with a laugh tinged with emotion. He paused for a moment before continuing, “Even though she can be annoying and makes my job hard, I'm thankful for her friendship and company.” His eyes sparkled with warmth as he looked at you. “How about you <<print$player_name>>? What's your first impression of me?” He asked, his voice soft and inviting. You nearly choked on your pudding and coughed out a weak response while trying to regain your composure. “Excuse me?” You finally managed to say. He leaned in closer, his gaze intense and unwavering as he explained, “Clara always tells me to ask other people's impressions of me so that I can work on myself. So feel free to be honest. I won't get angry...I promise.” Lucas stared at you expectantly, awaiting your answer. [[You're interesting and I wanna pry you apart]] [[Your kinda intimidating and brooding]] [[You're like a puzzle that I can't seem to decipher]]

“Secret!” You roll your eyes and a smirk graced your lips as you tease Haley with an answer that withholds the truth. “Oh, come one! Don't be like this! You can tell me absolutely anything.” She pleaded, her caramel eyes glistening with unshed tears. Honestly, you don't know what to tell her, you really don't know so better play it safe. “I'm sorry, Haley. This is something I cannot share with anyone." You zipped up your lips for emphasis and Lucas chuckled at your banter. "See? We are only friends here. Nothing more, nothing less." His electric blue eyes winked at Haley, making you blush in shock. “Party pooper!” She laughed, wiping a tear from her eye. “Well get going then! But I'll always be rooting for ya!” You and Lucas began walking away from the line, spotting a nearby bench after a few steps. “Let's take a breather for a while, shall we?” Lucas suggested. The two of you settled down, Lucas brought a spoonful of pudding up to his lips, closing his eyes and allowing himself a moment of peace and comfort as the sweet treat filled his mouth. Following suit, you picked up your own spoon and prepared to take a bite. A rich flavor burst across your tongue as you savored the creamy texture of this delightful dessert; its chewy texture pleasantly surprising you. You knew right away that you had found something to eat everytime, you came by here. “You did what was right, when you hesitated to answer Haley’s question.” Lucas said as he spooned himself another portion of his meal. You swallowed your food, that was still stuck in your mouth and asked him inquisitively, “Why?” The corner of Lucas' lips curled up into a wistful smile. “I have many enemies <<print $player_name>> that I accumulated in the past and by shouting that we’re soulmates will make you an easy target for them.” You took another bite of your pudding. "Do they honestly intend to hurt me just to get to you?", you asked as your hands nervously fidgeted with the spoon in the bowl. Lucas' body slowly relaxed and he leaned back into the bench, a somber expression on his handsome face. "Sadly, my enemies have no honor or moral compass," he stated gravely, "They will do whatever it takes to harm those closest to me". His eyes then glazed over, seemingly lost in a different space and time. “That was what they did to my birth father.” Lucas said quietly, he murmured; sadness evident in each word. You waited for him to elaborate but instead, Lucas brought a spoonful of pudding up to his lips, closing his eyes and allowing himself a moment of peace and comfort as the sweet treat filled his mouth. Following suit, you picked up your own spoon and prepared to take a bite once more. The dazzling sun rays pierced through the clouds and illuminated the quaint town. The cobbled street was lined with people, dressed in their finest garments, chatting away cheerfully as they walked. Above them, birds flapped their wings eagerly in search of food, chirping away merrily. But none of this majestic beauty could help Lucas' words from filling you with a sense of dread. He seemed determined to have you as his friend but unwilling to take things further. All around you was bustling life and joy, yet you felt an oppressive air clouding the atmosphere. Lucas voice draws you out of your reverie. “Clara was the one who told me about this place,” Lucas said with a laugh tinged with emotion. He paused for a moment before continuing, “Even though she can be annoying and makes my job hard, I'm thankful for her friendship and company.” His eyes sparkled with warmth as he looked at you. “How about you <<print$player_name>> ? What's your first impression of me?” He asked, his voice soft and inviting. You nearly choked on your pudding and coughed out a weak response while trying to regain your composure. “Excuse me?” You finally managed to say. He leaned in closer, his gaze intense and unwavering as he explained, “Clara always tells me to ask other people's impressions of me so that I can work on myself. So feel free to be honest. I won't get angry...I promise.” Lucas stared at you expectantly, awaiting your answer. [[You're interesting and I wanna pry you apart]] [[Your kinda intimidating and brooding]] [[You're like a puzzle that I can't seem to decipher]]

Your most alluring smile stretched across your lips, eyes flashing with fiery intent. "I find you incredibly intriguing and I long to explore the depths of your soul," you purred, leaning closer to him. Lucas couldn't help but chuckle at your brazenness, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "Well, I do hope any prying you plan to do will be pleasurable," he quipped back playfully. Pointing your wooden spoon towards him, you grinned wickedly. "Oh, trust me Lucas, it will be an experience both unforgettable and gratifying for us both." You winked at him, feeling your heart racing in excitement. Despite the gloomy atmosphere that had enveloped the atmosphere earlier, your words seemed to lift Lucas's spirits and fill him with a renewed sense of energy. "You mean good for you?" he asked teasingly. You carefully twirled the spoon in your hand and scooped up the last bits of your pudding, a perfect mixture of milky sweetness. Taking a deep breath, you languidly muttered his name, each syllable drawing out longer than necessary. "Lucas...Lucas." You take a deep breath, the air stinging your throat before you recite the poem that ignites a fire within you, "Thou thee have no faith on me, my soul is offended!" Lucas let out a throaty chuckle and then his expression turned serious. His gaze, as cold and piercing as steel, locked on to yours as he concentrated intently. "Admiring the view?" You asked with a smirk, raising an eyebrow at him playfully. His lips curled upwards in response, like that of a rogue. "No, not exactly." He replied slowly, the hints of mischief evident in his voice. He removed his gauntlet and moved closer to you with deliberate steps until his hand was just near your cheek. Your heart stopped beating and the air in your lungs felt like lead as you let out a deep breath. You were completely immobile, captivated by his movements and gestures. Then his thumb swiped your lips, sending an electric charge to your heart. "There we go!" he said as he leaned back and a quirk of his mouth lifted. His blue eyes glowed like fire, melting the very core of you soul. His short black hair moved with the wind, contrasting against his perfect porcelain skin. Lucas smiled fondly at you and sighed deeply, "Now the view is admirable." His words sent shivers down your spine and ignited a flame inside you. You looked to Lucas's face, shaking your head in disbelief. This version of Lucas was so different from the one you'd written in your book, where he had dismissed you instantly and watched you like a creep from a distance. Instead, here he was exchanging jokes with you. The clock seemed to stop ticking, as if blessed by a divine force. You both locked eyes in an infatuation and emotion emanated from every corner of your heart. But all too soon, Lucas's gaze fell away from yours, shattering any trace of the tenderness you had shared only a few seconds before. "Let us resume our journey." He stood up from the bench and proffered his hand out to you. Resting your palm against his, you let him help haul you up on your feet. "What do you think about Tiara?" He asked as he snapped his gauntlet back into place. "It's beautiful," You replied, trying to drop hints about how handsome he looked in this very moment but knowing well enough that it could never be uttered out loud. "Yes...and the people here are also quite lovely." He casted his gaze towards the children frolicking around and a proud father carrying his little daughter while she giggled away in pleasure. "I will serve them with all my being and I will protect them until my very last breath." Lucas declared like an oath amidst the clear blue sky. As you reached the corner of the busy street people walking and milling about, your foot barely halfway across the cobbled path, a thundering sound erupted, shaking the very ground beneath you. Your heart raced as you turned to the source of the cacophony. Turning your head and see a carriage speeding towards you, drawn by six powerful horses. The driver's voice boomed with sheer terror and rage in equal measure, "GET OUT OF THE BLASTED WAY, YOU DAMN FOOL!" but you are frozen in fear. You can see the horses’ muscles tense, their eyes wild, their nostrils flaring. You can smell their sweat and hear their hooves pounding on the ground. You feel a surge of adrenaline, but it is too late to react. You are about to be trampled by the carriage. Now ain't that a perdicament, you died and got killed by Car-Kun and got reincarnated as the MC of your own very story. For only to be killed by Carriage-Kun, talk about being so ironic! Haha! But seriously I think you should get going now and moving away from harm's way, we wouldn't want you ending as paste once more. Hmmm? Still rooted to the spot? Meh! Your Funeral! The carriage is now upon you, you can feel the hot breath of the horses at this distance, images flashes before your eyes the short adventure you had in this new life yours begin to fill your mind and funny enough is to short to even called it an adventure. I mean we're just in Chapter 2 and your gonna die already!...Again! Oh-hooo! But what's this! Yet! Just as despair threatened to consume you, a pair of hands reached out and pulled you away from the path of danger, cradling you in their heroic embrace. Your eyes met the piercing blue gaze of Lucas, his expression a mix of concern and hardened determination. The carriage passing behind you, the rush of air gliding against your back, almost as if it were a gentle caress. "Are you alright?" Lucas asked, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. Of course you still reeling from the recent events can only stutter in reply. "I...I...I...!" You tried to speak, to form coherent words, but your mouth felt dry, your lips chapped, and your throat constricted with a lump that refused to dissipate. Sheesh! Get a grip Man..Err or Woman? Your trembling knees threatened to betray you, and indeed, they did. As your legs gave way, Lucas acted swiftly, leaning in close to support your weight. His body became a sturdy pillar, holding you as if you were the most precious treasure he refused to part with. He bends down and gently lowers you to the ground, where a soft patch of grass cushions your fall. He stays with you, his arms around you, his body shielding you from the curious eyes of the crowd. You are barely aware of the people around you, their voices sounding like a distant buzz in your ears. You hear snippets of their conversations, their awe and admiration for Lucas, their pity and concern for you. “Did you see how he saved that poor soul?” a man asks in a deep voice. “Yes, I did! How utterly romantic!” a woman replies in a high-pitched voice. You hear a collective gasp, followed by a loud thud. Hmmmm...Looks like someone has fainted from the excitement. But your focus remained on Lucas, your body still trembling, your breaths erratic. You felt the security of his arms wrapping around you, his armor, though rigid and unyielding, providing a cooling comfort. You leaned into his embrace, finding solace and safety in the embrace of this valiant knight. Closing your eyes and savoring the moment, enjoying the sensation of his breath on your neck, his heartbeat in sync with yours, his arms around your frame. Who could be luckier than you to have Lucas hold you like this, you mused in the depths of your turmoil. Alas, life was a cruel tease, offering a brief taste of his warmth and strength pressed against you. Lucas leaned back, gently prying himself away from you, leaving you with a profound sense of longing and gratitude. You stand before him, your eyes locked with his deep blue gaze. His eyes are a tumultuous sea of emotions, reflecting worry, anger, sadness, and love. The intensity of his stare sends shivers down your spine, and you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. In a low voice that is both stern and tender, he speaks to you, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "Are you alright?" His concern is palpable, evident in the furrowed lines etched on his forehead. "What were you thinking?" His voice is laced with frustration, as if he can't comprehend your actions. "Do you have any idea how scared I was?" His voice cracks with a raw vulnerability, revealing the depth of his emotions. "How could you be so careless?" His words hang in the air, heavy with disappointment. "Do you want to die?" The question pierces your heart, a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation. Your eyes blink once, then twice, as you try to process his words. His profound worry for you takes you by surprise, and for a moment, you are at a loss for words. But you gather yourself and respond in a robotic tone, your voice lacking the depth of emotion that he possesses. "I'm fine," you assure him, though your voice trembles slightly. "I was surprised," you explain, trying to justify your actions. "I'm sorry for making you worry," you apologize, your voice filled with genuine remorse. "No! Of course, I don't want to die," you quickly assure him, unable to fathom the thought of leaving him behind. Lucas grunts in reply, a mixture of frustration and relief evident in his reaction. He rings his hand in the air, his fingers fidgeting with a nervous energy, while his other hand remains firmly on your body, holding you steady. He moves his gauntlet-clad hand close to his mouth, his teeth sinking into the leather straps that fasten it to his wrist. One by one, the straps come undone, revealing the strength and determination in his actions. As you watch him, a mixture of fascination and arousal washes over you, igniting a fire within your core. Your mind begins to wander to places that would make even the most innocent blush, as you envision the private show unfolding before you. Finally, Lucas is bare of his gauntlet, and he places it on your forehead, as if checking for a fever. "You seem to be getting warmer," he remarks, his hand moving along your face, his touch both gentle and possessive. Your body shivers involuntarily at his touch, and it takes every ounce of your willpower to resist succumbing to unconsciousness. Lucas looks down at you, the sun casting a halo above his head, turning him into an angel sent from heaven on a mission to save you. "Nonsense," he dismisses your protestations, his voice filled with determination. "Your temperature is getting higher by the second," he insists, his eyes squinting as he studies your flushed face. You quickly cough, a feeble attempt to regain control of your body's betraying reactions, and you avert your gaze away from his piercing blue orbs. But no matter how hard you try, his eyes draw you in like a whirlpool, pulling you back into their depths. Finally, Lucas's eyes widen in shock, his realization dawning upon him. "I apologize for that," he says sheepishly, his voice laced with regret. Adjusting his grip on you, Lucas places your body securely against his chest. He reaches behind him, his fingers clasping the edges of his cape, and he gently covers you with it, shielding you from the harsh reality outside. His hand finds its way to your back, providing a reassuring presence, while his other hand rests on your thigh, anchoring you to him. With a swift motion, he hoists you up, his strength evident in the way he effortlessly carries your weight. As he gazes down at you, a faint smirk graces his lips, a mixture of amusement and smuggness playing across his face. "You must be shaken from a near-death experience. I will carry you," he declared, securing his hold on you. The smirk played on his lips became predatory as he glanced down at your slightly parted ones, adding an undeniable allure to his already heroic persona. Nestled snugly within the confines of Lucas's warm cape, you sank into his protective embrace. As you nestled closer to his chestplate, your imagination took flight, conjuring images of your fingers tracing the contours of his bare skin, the sensation of warmth radiating from his body, and the imagined feeling of his skin against your face. "Settling in, are we?" he asked, a chuckle dancing in his voice. With a big grin on your lips, you tilted your head to look at him. "How can I not?" you replied, a hint of playful offense in your tone. "It's not every day that I get treated like this," you added, your gratitude shining through. Lucas shook his head, a hint of humorlessness in his voice. "Well, enjoy it while it lasts. I do still get tired, you know?" he remarked. Your hand slipped out from under the cape, and your fingers began to trail along his gauntleted hand, gradually making their way up to his broad shoulder. "Now that is a lie!" you retorted with a wiggle of your eyebrows, adopting your most husky voice. "Big, strong arms like these must be made of steel!" Lucas fell silent for a moment, then burst into laughter. "Fine, I'll try to carry you as much as I can. Besides, I can think of this as my exercise," he conceded, and you could hear the voices of the onlookers around you, their cheers and applause filling the air. Amidst the jubilation, you heard a distinct whistle from a nearby guy. "Damn lucky!" he exclaimed in admiration. Suddenly, a fist pounded the cobblestone ground, followed by anguished cries. "It should have been me, not them!" a female voice wailed, tears of defeat streaming down her face. But Lucas's resolute eyes remained fixed ahead, and your gaze remained on him, capturing every nuance of his movement. His hair swayed gently in the wind, his body moved gracefully beneath the weight, and the clinking of his armor became a comforting, rhythmic melody that accompanied your journey. [[Continue|Meeting Clara]]

You take a deep breath as you feel the spoonful of creamy pudding slide down your throat. You gulp and steel yourself before turning to face Lucas, dreading the answer you must give him. "You're kinda intimidating and brooding," you manage to say, despite your racing heart. Lucas raises his gloved hand to cover his chin thoughtfully, studying your expression. His gaze is so piercing that it takes all your strength not to flinch away from it. "Interesting," he finally says, dropping his hand and taking an unhurried bite of his own pudding. "Can I ask you something?" You nod, unable to break eye contact with him. "If what you say is true," he continues after swallowing, "then why are you not afraid of me?" Your mouth opens automatically but no sound comes out. It's a good question that demands more than just a simple answer. You can see in Lucas' eyes that he won't accept anything short of complete honesty from you. You took a deep breath before finally meeting his gaze and speaking up. "I find myself feeling safe and secure when I'm close to you," you replied honestly, hoping he would understand what that meant. "Your presence is like a shield against the evils of this world." He looked at you, his expression unreadable and then suddenly burst out into a booming laughter. You were taken aback by how nonchalant he was being about the situation. "Well I guess that's just one of my charms then." He said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, pride in his voice as if he had accomplished something great. Then his expression shifted to something much more serene and tender. "Nevertheless, I want to thank you for being so honest with me." He said earnestly, and you could see a deep appreciation in his eyes. You smiled softly, nodding your head in acknowledgement. "Of course," you responded sincerely. "Let us resume our journey." He stood up from the bench and proffered his hand out to you. Resting your palm against his, you let him help haul you up on your feet. "What do you think about Tiara?" He asked as he snapped his gauntlet back into place. "It's beautiful," You replied, trying to drop hints about how handsome he looked in this very moment but knowing well enough that it could never be uttered out loud. "Yes...and the people here are also quite lovely." He casted his gaze towards the children frolicking around and a proud father carrying his little daughter while she giggled away in pleasure. "I will serve them with all my being and I will protect them until my very last breath." Lucas declared like an oath amidst the clear blue sky. As you reached the corner of the busy street people walking and milling about, your foot barely halfway across the cobbled path, a thundering sound erupted, shaking the very ground beneath you. Your heart raced as you turned to the source of the cacophony. Turning your head and see a carriage speeding towards you, drawn by six powerful horses. The driver's voice boomed with sheer terror and rage in equal measure, "GET OUT OF THE BLASTED WAY, YOU DAMN FOOL!" but you are frozen in fear. You can see the horses’ muscles tense, their eyes wild, their nostrils flaring. You can smell their sweat and hear their hooves pounding on the ground. You feel a surge of adrenaline, but it is too late to react. You are about to be trampled by the carriage. Now ain't that a perdicament, you died and got killed by Car-Kun and got reincarnated as the MC of your own very story. For only to be killed by Carriage-Kun, talk about being so ironic! Haha! But seriously I think you should get going now and moving away from harm's way, we wouldn't want you ending as paste once more. Hmmm? Still rooted to the spot? Meh! Your Funeral! The carriage is now upon you, you can feel the hot breath of the horses at this distance, images flashes before your eyes the short adventure you had in this new life yours begin to fill your mind and funny enough is to short to even called it an adventure. I mean we're just in Chapter 2 and your gonna die already!...Again! Oh-hooo! But what's this! Just as despair threatened to consume you, a pair of hands reached out and pulled you away from the path of danger, cradling you in their heroic embrace. Your eyes met the piercing blue gaze of Lucas, his expression a mix of concern and hardened determination. The carriage passing behind you, the rush of air gliding against your back, almost as if it were a gentle caress. "Are you alright?" Lucas asked, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. Of course you still reeling from the recent events can only stutter in reply. "I...I...I...!" You tried to speak, to form coherent words, but your mouth felt dry, your lips chapped, and your throat constricted with a lump that refused to dissipate. Sheesh! Get a grip Man..Err or Woman? Your trembling knees threatened to betray you, and indeed, they did. As your legs gave way, Lucas acted swiftly, leaning in close to support your weight. His body became a sturdy pillar, holding you as if you were the most precious treasure he refused to part with. He bends down and gently lowers you to the ground, where a soft patch of grass cushions your fall. He stays with you, his arms around you, his body shielding you from the curious eyes of the crowd. You are barely aware of the people around you, their voices sounding like a distant buzz in your ears. You hear snippets of their conversations, their awe and admiration for Lucas, their pity and concern for you. “Did you see how he saved that poor soul?” a man asks in a deep voice. “Yes, I did! How utterly romantic!” a woman replies in a high-pitched voice. You hear a collective gasp, followed by a loud thud. Hmmmm...Looks like someone has fainted from the excitement. But your focus remained on Lucas, your body still trembling, your breaths erratic. You felt the security of his arms wrapping around you, his armor, though rigid and unyielding, providing a cooling comfort. You leaned into his embrace, finding solace and safety in the embrace of this valiant knight. Closing your eyes and savoring the moment, enjoying the sensation of his breath on your neck, his heartbeat in sync with yours, his arms around your frame. Who could be luckier than you to have Lucas hold you like this, you mused in the depths of your turmoil. Alas, life was a cruel tease, offering a brief taste of his warmth and strength pressed against you. Lucas leaned back, gently prying himself away from you, leaving you with a profound sense of longing and gratitude. You stand before him, your eyes locked with his deep azure gaze. His eyes are a tumultuous sea of emotions, reflecting worry, anger, sadness, and love. The intensity of his stare sends shivers down your spine, and you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. In a low voice that is both stern and tender, he speaks to you, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "Are you alright?" His concern is palpable, evident in the furrowed lines etched on his forehead. "What were you thinking?" His voice is laced with frustration, as if he can't comprehend your actions. "Do you have any idea how scared I was?" His voice cracks with a raw vulnerability, revealing the depth of his emotions. "How could you be so careless?" His words hang in the air, heavy with disappointment. "Do you want to die?" The question pierces your heart, a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation. Your eyes blink once, then twice, as you try to process his words. His profound worry for you takes you by surprise, and for a moment, you are at a loss for words. But you gather yourself and respond in a robotic tone, your voice lacking the depth of emotion that he possesses. "I'm fine," you assure him, though your voice trembles slightly. "I was surprised," you explain, trying to justify your actions. "I'm sorry for making you worry," you apologize, your voice filled with genuine remorse. "No! Of course, I don't want to die," you quickly assure him, unable to fathom the thought of leaving him behind. Lucas grunts in reply, a mixture of frustration and relief evident in his reaction. He raised his hand in the air, his fingers fidgeting with a nervous energy, while his other hand remains firmly on your body, holding you steady. He moves his gauntlet-clad hand close to his mouth, his teeth sinking into the leather straps that fasten it to his wrist. One by one, the straps come undone, revealing the strength and determination in his actions. As you watch him, a mixture of fascination and arousal washes over you, igniting a fire within your core. Your mind begins to wander to places that would make even the most innocent blush, as you envision the private show unfolding before you. Finally, Lucas is bare of his gauntlet, and he places it on your forehead, as if checking for a fever. "You seem to be getting warmer," he remarks, his hand moving along your face, his touch both gentle and possessive. Your body shivers involuntarily at his touch, and it takes every ounce of your willpower to resist succumbing to unconsciousness. "I'm fine!" Lucas looks down at you, the sun casting a halo above his head, turning him into an angel sent from heaven on a mission to save you. "Nonsense," he dismisses your protestations, his voice filled with determination. "Your temperature is getting higher by the second," he insists, his eyes squinting as he studies your flushed face. You quickly cough, a feeble attempt to regain control of your body's betraying reactions, and you avert your gaze away from his piercing blue orbs. But no matter how hard you try, his eyes draw you in like a whirlpool, pulling you back into their depths. Finally, Lucas's eyes widen in shock, his realization dawning upon him. "I apologize for that," he says sheepishly, his voice laced with regret. Adjusting his grip on you, Lucas places your body securely against his chest. He reaches behind him, his fingers clasping the edges of his cape, and he gently covers you with it, shielding you from the harsh reality outside. His hand finds its way to your back, providing a reassuring presence, while his other hand rests on your thigh, anchoring you to him. With a swift motion, he hoists you up, his strength evident in the way he effortlessly carries your weight. As he gazes down at you, a faint smirk graces his lips, a mixture of amusement and smuggness playing across his face. "You must be shaken from a near-death experience. I will carry you," he declared, securing his hold on you. The smirk played on his lips became predatory as he glanced down at your slightly parted ones, adding an undeniable allure to his already heroic persona. Nestled snugly within the confines of Lucas's warm cape, you sank into his protective embrace. As you nestled closer to his chestplate, your imagination took flight, conjuring images of your fingers tracing the contours of his bare skin, the sensation of warmth radiating from his body, and the imagined feeling of his skin against your face. "Settling in, are we?" he asked, a chuckle dancing in his voice. With a big grin on your lips, you tilted your head to look at him. "How can I not?" you replied, a hint of playful offense in your tone. "It's not every day that I get treated like this," you added, your gratitude shining through. Lucas shook his head, a hint of humorlessness in his voice. "Well, enjoy it while it lasts. I do still get tired, you know?" he remarked. Your hand slipped out from under the cape, and your fingers began to trail along his gauntleted hand, gradually making their way up to his broad shoulder. "Now that is a lie!" you retorted with a wiggle of your eyebrows, adopting your most husky voice. "Big, strong arms like these must be made of steel!" Lucas fell silent for a moment, then burst into laughter. "Fine, I'll try to carry you as much as I can. Besides, I can think of this as my exercise," he conceded, and you could hear the voices of the onlookers around you, their cheers and applause filling the air. Amidst the jubilation, you heard a distinct whistle from a nearby guy. "Damn lucky!" he exclaimed in admiration. Suddenly, a fist pounded the cobblestone ground, followed by anguished cries. "It should have been me, not them!" a female voice wailed, tears of defeat streaming down her face. But Lucas's resolute eyes remained fixed ahead, and your gaze remained on him, capturing every nuance of his movement. His hair swayed gently in the wind, his body moved gracefully beneath the weight, and the clinking of his armor became a comforting, rhythmic melody that accompanied your journey. [[Continue|Meeting Clara]]

You leaned in closer, your eyes roaming Lucas' features with a rapt gaze. His black curls cascading around his ears and the small stubble of a beard framing his face. He was completely still, allowing you to take all the time you need to examine this gorgeous man before you. You were entranced by him. His gaze was unwavering as it roamed over your face too. "You're like a puzzle that I can't seem to decipher," you murmur thoughtfully. A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest as a smile tugs at the edges of his lips. "So I'm the puzzle huh?" He teases playfully, still keeping close, his breath fanning your cheeks warmly. You could feel the chemistry in the air and the world spinning around you like an old vinyl record. His eyes were warm and gentle, yet they held a dangerous glint that sent chills down your spine. "I can say the same thing about you." He says in amusement, his lips curling into a smirk. "Oh?" you raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued. "Yes, some of the people I talked in the past, found me terrifying and cruel. To them, I'm nothing more than the King's lapdog and the Princess's Guard Dog - with no free will of my own, obeying orders blindly," he said sadly. "But you...you are different. Rather than drifting away from me like most others did, you seemed to be drawn closer by some unknown force - like a Siren's call from the deep." His musings filled the air around you, as his lip curled into a half-smile of admiration. You couldn't help but to laugh at his astute observation. "And haven't you thought that maybe it is you who is being drawned to me?" you asked coyly and raised an eyebrow at him in anticipation of his response, your spoon tapping lightly against your empty pudding bowl. Lucas' face lit up as he clapped his hands together lightly - his gauntlets clinking together as they made contact - and replied with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes: "Please do tell!" His tone was light-hearted, yet somehow expectant as if waiting for something sensational to hear. "I'd heard rumours about you; how once you slapped a noble and despite his position, power and connections, you slapped him again without fear...so it would appear that you choose the people you want to keep close wisely". you raise your spoon near to your lips and licking the last bits of the pudding before placing it back on the bowl for emphasis. You gaze into his face, mesmerized by this different version of Lucas, the Lucas you once thought of--who would have instantly dismissed you and remained silent watching you from a distance with an eerie stillness. But here he was, being friendly and exchanging jokes with you. Then you noticed a smudge of pudding on Lucas' lips; seeing the opportunity, you leaned in close. Lucas continued to watch you, unblinking and unmoving like a grand statue on display. His azure eyes stared at you intently with unwavering focus. Then your hand moved closer towards his lips before Lucas seized it with a firm grip, making you yelp in surprise. "Got something on your mind?" He shot you a smug grin as he raised one brow inquisitively. "Yes, I do," You replied calmly despite the trembling of your body and racing of your heart. "Would care to tell me what it is?" Lucas slowly loosened his grasp but refused to let go completely. "It's better if I show you, don't you think? It will be a shame to ruin the suspense and surprise." Lucas chuckled before releasing your hand entirely, allowing for you to continue with your plan--your hand without obstruction went to his lips and wiped off the smudge of pudding. "You had something left here," You said as you withdrew your hand back to your side. "I'm in your debt," He thanked gratefully. "It was no problem," You licked your thumb with your tongue--the same thumb that had just wiped away the smudge from his lips--to add some drama to the situation. "Surprising indeed!" The corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement as he laughed at your banter. As you reached the corner of the busy street people walking and milling about, your foot barely halfway across the cobbled path, a thundering sound erupted, shaking the very ground beneath you. Your heart raced as you turned to the source of the cacophony. Turning your head and see a carriage speeding towards you, drawn by six powerful horses. The driver's voice boomed with sheer terror and rage in equal measure, "GET OUT OF THE BLASTED WAY, YOU DAMN FOOL!" but you are frozen in fear. You can see the horses’ muscles tense, their eyes wild, their nostrils flaring. You can smell their sweat and hear their hooves pounding on the ground. You feel a surge of adrenaline, but it is too late to react. You are about to be trampled by the carriage. Now ain't that a perdicament, you died and got killed by Car-Kun and got reincarnated as the MC of your own very story. For only to be killed by Carriage-Kun, talk about being so ironic! Haha! But seriously I think you should get going now and moving away from harm's way, we wouldn't want you ending as paste once more. Hmmm? Still rooted to the spot? Meh! Your Funeral! The carriage is now upon you, you can feel the hot breath of the horses at this distance, images flashes before your eyes the short adventure you had in this new life yours begin to fill your mind and funny enough is to short to even called it an adventure. I mean we're just in Chapter 2 and your gonna die already!...Again! Oh-hooo! But what's this! Yet! Just as despair threatened to consume you, a pair of hands reached out and pulled you away from the path of danger, cradling you in their heroic embrace. Your eyes met the piercing blue gaze of Lucas, his expression a mix of concern and hardened determination. The carriage passing behind you, the rush of air gliding against your back, almost as if it were a gentle caress. "Are you alright?" Lucas asked, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. Of course you still reeling from the recent events can only stutter in reply. "I...I...I...!" You tried to speak, to form coherent words, but your mouth felt dry, your lips chapped, and your throat constricted with a lump that refused to dissipate. Sheesh! Get a grip Man..Err or Woman? Your trembling knees threatened to betray you, and indeed, they did. As your legs gave way, Lucas acted swiftly, leaning in close to support your weight. His body became a sturdy pillar, holding you as if you were the most precious treasure he refused to part with. He bends down and gently lowers you to the ground, where a soft patch of grass cushions your fall. He stays with you, his arms around you, his body shielding you from the curious eyes of the crowd. You are barely aware of the people around you, their voices sounding like a distant buzz in your ears. You hear snippets of their conversations, their awe and admiration for Lucas, their pity and concern for you. “Did you see how he saved that poor soul?” a man asks in a deep voice. “Yes, I did! How utterly romantic!” a woman replies in a high-pitched voice. You hear a collective gasp, followed by a loud thud. Hmmmm...Looks like someone has fainted from the excitement. But your focus remained on Lucas, your body still trembling, your breaths erratic. You felt the security of his arms wrapping around you, his armor, though rigid and unyielding, providing a cooling comfort. You leaned into his embrace, finding solace and safety in the embrace of this valiant knight. Closing your eyes and savoring the moment, enjoying the sensation of his breath on your neck, his heartbeat in sync with yours, his arms around your frame. Who could be luckier than you to have Lucas hold you like this, you mused in the depths of your turmoil. Alas, life was a cruel tease, offering a brief taste of his warmth and strength pressed against you. Lucas leaned back, gently prying himself away from you, leaving you with a profound sense of longing and gratitude. You stand before him, your eyes locked with his deep blue gaze. His eyes are a tumultuous sea of emotions, reflecting worry, anger, sadness, and love. The intensity of his stare sends shivers down your spine, and you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. In a low voice that is both stern and tender, he speaks to you, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "Are you alright?" His concern is palpable, evident in the furrowed lines etched on his forehead. "What were you thinking?" His voice is laced with frustration, as if he can't comprehend your actions. "Do you have any idea how scared I was?" His voice cracks with a raw vulnerability, revealing the depth of his emotions. "How could you be so careless?" His words hang in the air, heavy with disappointment. "Do you want to die?" The question pierces your heart, a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation. Your eyes blink once, then twice, as you try to process his words. His profound worry for you takes you by surprise, and for a moment, you are at a loss for words. But you gather yourself and respond in a robotic tone, your voice lacking the depth of emotion that he possesses. "I'm fine," you assure him, though your voice trembles slightly. "I was surprised," you explain, trying to justify your actions. "I'm sorry for making you worry," you apologize, your voice filled with genuine remorse. "No! Of course, I don't want to die," you quickly assure him, unable to fathom the thought of leaving him behind. Lucas grunts in reply, a mixture of frustration and relief evident in his reaction. He rings his hand in the air, his fingers fidgeting with a nervous energy, while his other hand remains firmly on your body, holding you steady. He moves his gauntlet-clad hand close to his mouth, his teeth sinking into the leather straps that fasten it to his wrist. One by one, the straps come undone, revealing the strength and determination in his actions. As you watch him, a mixture of fascination and arousal washes over you, igniting a fire within your core. Your mind begins to wander to places that would make even the most innocent blush, as you envision the private show unfolding before you. Finally, Lucas is bare of his gauntlet, and he places it on your forehead, as if checking for a fever. "You seem to be getting warmer," he remarks, his hand moving along your face, his touch both gentle and possessive. Your body shivers involuntarily at his touch, and it takes every ounce of your willpower to resist succumbing to unconsciousness. Lucas looks down at you, the sun casting a halo above his head, turning him into an angel sent from heaven on a mission to save you. "Nonsense," he dismisses your protestations, his voice filled with determination. "Your temperature is getting higher by the second," he insists, his eyes squinting as he studies your flushed face. You quickly cough, a feeble attempt to regain control of your body's betraying reactions, and you avert your gaze away from his piercing blue orbs. But no matter how hard you try, his eyes draw you in like a whirlpool, pulling you back into their depths. Finally, Lucas's eyes widen in shock, his realization dawning upon him. "I apologize for that," he says sheepishly, his voice laced with regret. Adjusting his grip on you, Lucas places your body securely against his chest. He reaches behind him, his fingers clasping the edges of his cape, and he gently covers you with it, shielding you from the harsh reality outside. His hand finds its way to your back, providing a reassuring presence, while his other hand rests on your thigh, anchoring you to him. With a swift motion, he hoists you up, his strength evident in the way he effortlessly carries your weight. As he gazes down at you, a faint smirk graces his lips, a mixture of amusement and smuggness playing across his face. "You must be shaken from a near-death experience. I will carry you," he declared, securing his hold on you. The smirk played on his lips became predatory as he glanced down at your slightly parted ones, adding an undeniable allure to his already heroic persona. Nestled snugly within the confines of Lucas's warm cape, you sank into his protective embrace. As you nestled closer to his chestplate, your imagination took flight, conjuring images of your fingers tracing the contours of his bare skin, the sensation of warmth radiating from his body, and the imagined feeling of his skin against your face. "Settling in, are we?" he asked, a chuckle dancing in his voice. With a big grin on your lips, you tilted your head to look at him. "How can I not?" you replied, a hint of playful offense in your tone. "It's not every day that I get treated like this," you added, your gratitude shining through. Lucas shook his head, a hint of humorlessness in his voice. "Well, enjoy it while it lasts. I do still get tired, you know?" he remarked. Your hand slipped out from under the cape, and your fingers began to trail along his gauntleted hand, gradually making their way up to his broad shoulder. "Now that is a lie!" you retorted with a wiggle of your eyebrows, adopting your most husky voice. "Big, strong arms like these must be made of steel!" Lucas fell silent for a moment, then burst into laughter. "Fine, I'll try to carry you as much as I can. Besides, I can think of this as my exercise," he conceded, and you could hear the voices of the onlookers around you, their cheers and applause filling the air. Amidst the jubilation, you heard a distinct whistle from a nearby guy. "Damn lucky!" he exclaimed in admiration. Suddenly, a fist pounded the cobblestone ground, followed by anguished cries. "It should have been me, not them!" a female voice wailed, tears of defeat streaming down her face. But Lucas's resolute eyes remained fixed ahead, and your gaze remained on him, capturing every nuance of his movement. His hair swayed gently in the wind, his body moved gracefully beneath the weight, and the clinking of his armor became a comforting, rhythmic melody that accompanied your journey. [[Continue|Meeting Clara]]

A thin smile slowly spread across his lips as he noticed your gaze upon him. He leaned closer, his face mere inches from yours, and the breeze of his breath tickled your face. "How's the ride going so far?" he asked playfully. His voice took on a deeper tone, and his eyes gleamed with an intensity that made you quiver with delight. And yet you thought you had grown confident to withstand his charm, but once again, you were powerless to move, transfixed by his gaze, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone a response. You felt your heart skip a beat, then pick up its rhythm again, racing with the wild abandonment of an untamed horse. "Oh my Lord, is this what it means to be in love?" you wondered silently. To be driven by the heart's impulses, no matter how reckless or impulsive they may be? "No comment!" you said weakly, but your mind screamed for you to make the move. But as you sat there, drowning in Lucas's warmth and kindness, you knew that nothing could compare to the glorious experience of being loved by him. With a gentle nod, Lucas continued, "That's understandable. However, I have to admit, your body language is sending mixed signals. It's hard to figure out whether you want me to keep going or stop altogether." Oh, if only he knew the truth! "Keep going!" you thought desperately. But the thought of blurting it out and admitting your feelings to him scared you more than anything else. "I'm not sure how to feel about that," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. But you couldn't help yourself, and your eyes wandered to his lips, lingering on his soft, pink mouth. You imagined what it would feel like to press your own lips against his, to taste the sweetness of his breath and inhale his intoxicating scent. The thought of his mouth pressed against yours sent shivers down your spine, and an involuntary gasp escaped your lips. Unfortunately, Lucas noticed your reaction, and his smirk widened. "Thinking long term?" he mused. Fear surged within you, and you felt your cheeks turn crimson. "No! Not at all! I mean, I was..." You paused, trying to regain your composure, but your mind was a jumble of emotions, and no coherent thought came through. Pushing his gauntleted hand upwards, Lucas gently pushed his fingers against your cheek, his touch searing into your skin. "Relax, I'm just teasing, and I apologize for my jest. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable!" he said sheepishly. "I blame Clara for this! That woman has a way of corrupting the people around her!" he chuckled. Muttering incoherently under your breath, you leaned back and rolled your eyes. "You sure talk big, but you are soft at heart, I can tell!" you teased. Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Well, since you're teasing me, I fear your ride has come to an end!" Lucas stopped walking, and he started to adjust your body, your feet aiming down to the ground. It took every ounce of your power to cling to him. "What? Nooooo! I want to be carried more. It was the best experience I ever had!" you whined. The onlookers smiled and clapped, delighted by your antics. Lucas chuckled and leaned his head closer to yours, his hair brushing lightly against your cheek. "No can do!" he whispered. Quickly adjusting your balance, you scurried to your feet. "Fine! So it's over," you replied in a huff. You couldn't blame him, since he was only showing you his support. But a part of you wished he hadn't stopped. Fixing his gauntleted hand on your shoulder, Lucas gently rubbed it. "You're right, I was teasing you. I was having fun. I couldn't resist. But it is getting late, and we should get going to the castle." You and Lucas march onwards through the bustling crowds of people, Lucas greeted everyone with a wave. Then there were those who were desperate for Lucas's attention - no matter their gender or class - making advances towards him. Your heart raced as your breath quickened from the tension. With a reassuring smile, Lucas turned to you and said, "Sorry but I'm already spoken for!" You couldn't help but blush as a noblewoman squeezed her corset-wrapped body between you two. "Then invite them." she purred, hiding her malicious smirk behind her fan. Lucas's face hardened as he sternly shot back, "Madam! I must reiterate that we cannot delay in returning to the Kingdom, per the King's orders." His firm hand stopped her objections before they had even begun. His gaze locked onto yours and he spoke with resolute conviction, "Come <<print $player_name>>." And so you followed Lucas forth into the unknown, admiring his strength and loyalty. You let out an internal chuckle: there was the Lucas you knew. As if hearing it, the woman muttered in awe behind you, "He's playing hard to get!" ""You have an army of ardent fans," you tease, chuckling as you follow Lucas's lead. Lucas keeps his eyes locked ahead, his tone exhausted. "Indeed I do. At times, I wish to be invinsible and savor some solitude. My admirers are quite persistent." He releases a weary sigh that echoes through the alleyway. "There's this trio of women that have been hounding me relentlessly. I've had no choice but to seek refuge behind dumpsters." A smile tugs at Lucas's lips at the thought of him diving into the putrid refuse in order to avoid their advances. "I hope my followers aren't bothering you too much?" Lucas looks over at you with concern in his eyes. You wave away any worry he might have. "Pshh, not at all! Besides, didn't you say you were eager to improve your social skills?" Lucas grins wryly. "I am, but sometimes my patience runs thin." Your heart flutters slightly at the playful glint in Lucas's eye, and you can't help but feel drawn further into his tantalizing world. Continuing your journey, the air around you suddenly becomes still. You can feel Lucas's attention on you as he turns towards you questioningly. You look up to find a group of fanboys standing in front of a near-by alleyway and blocking your path. "Look its the Royal Protector!" they screech like high-school girls, all at once the whole group turned their attention to Lucas. Lucas took one glance at them and knew it was time to use his royal agility and quick reflexes to outrun them. He grabbed your hand and quickly pulled you along, dashing through alleys with inhuman speed while evading the fanboys' attempts to tackle him. With each twist and turn, the two of you ran further away from the chaos behind you until eventually all that remained was an empty street ahead. You both stopped catching your breath. "Alright I see what you mean about your fame becoming a problem." you chuckle. "Finally we have the same of mind." Lucas chuckles along with you. The two of you continue your journey, Lucas' eyes scanning the environment before continuing and after grueling stealth. The two of you finally caught sight of the castle of Tiara. The beauty of the majestic structure astounded you. It was a work of art, finely crafted and cared for. The castle was made from white marble and ivory, the walls adorned with intricate patterns which were accented with gold and silver trimmings. Even from a distance, you could see how effort had been taken to make each inch of the castle perfect, giving it a sense of grandeur that could not be denied. The sun shone down on its delicate turrets and balconies, making them shimmer in the delicate light. Its towers were connected by graceful arches while its ramparts gleamed in their metallic glory, creating a sight that left you feeling awe-struck. You couldn't help but be mesmerized by this towering masterpiece before you; it was as though time had stopped and all that existed was this stunning abode. "WOAH!" you can only stand in amazement of how the Gods had exceed your expectations with their artistry, giving life to the structure that had been etched within your imagination. Lucas chuckled at your reaction, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Come on, let's go inside!" The two of you stepped forward, but Lucas stopped abruptly. He hung his head and seemed to be in deep contemplation. You prodded him with a gentle nudge. "Look <<print $player_name>>," he began. His voice was full of emotion, even though he didn't look you in the eyes. "I want to apologize in advance." Confused and taken aback from his sudden sentiment, you asked why. He sighed heavily before speaking, as if every word pained him. "When we enter the castle, I will be a different man than when you first met me. My duty as The Royal Protector requires absolute focus and concentration, so I may appear distant and unmoved by your presence. I may even hurt you unintentionally, and for that I am deeply sorry." He placed his hand over his heart and bowed his head humbly at you. Your heart pounded rapidly as you hesitantly replied, "Okay?" You tried to lighten the mood with a question. "Will there be signs of your change?" you ask with a chuckle. Lucas slowly raised his head and the air between you solidified as if a storm were brewing. His formerly bright blue eyes now cast an icy glower that chilled your bones. The intensity behind them sent chills down your spine. He uttered only two words in reply, "You will see." he began walking away from you, each step echoing through the air as though he was an unstoppable force of nature. You couldn’t help but shiver as you followed him, feeling a sense of dread creeping up on you that wouldn’t seem to subside. As you draw nearer to the castle gates, a majestic figure shrouded in shadows emerges from behind the walls. You hold your breath as the mysterious figure strides towards you with purpose. "I was worried that you lost your way, Lucas!" the feminine voice says with an air of hilarity. "Just need to take a detour, Clara." Lucas replies and bows his head in reverence. An electric thrill runs through your body as realization dawns upon you; this is Clara, your beloved OC! There she stands before you, each feature more beautiful than what words can describe. Your heart races in anticipation to finally meet her eye-to-eye and in the flesh, alive and real before your very eyes. Clara leisurely inspected you, her gaze raking up and down your body. With each fleeting glance the corners of her mouth curled upwards into an alluring smirk, causing a mischievous twinkle to light up her amber eyes. Her sumptuous gown clung to her curves as if it were made for her frame alone, emphasizing everything about her slender yet lean arms, showing off the slight muscles underneath her sleeves. The fabric swished around her feet with every step she took, resembling that of a fairytale princess. Her sultry smirk seemed to promise something beyond ordinary, as if daring you to discover what delightful secrets lied beneath it. You could almost hear the silent invitation in her eyes; they spoke volumes of a dangerous adventure that both enticed and frightened you. Clara licked her lips as she stepped closer to you, the anticipation of what was to come evident in the way she moved. She placed her delicate hands on your shoulder and her amber eyes locked with yours. You could feel the tension between the two of you, like a magnetic force drawing you closer and closer as if they had a mind of their own. The sunlight cascaded on her fair skin, making her glow like a ethereal light fit for the angels. She peered up at you with her big, glimmering eyes and asked, her voice barely more than a whisper," Are you really the stranger who visits my dreams each night?” Her tiny hands flitted to your shoulders and settled on your chest before she continued, “I feel like I have been waiting for you an eternity.” [[Charming devil, Gorgeous body, Eyes full of passion]] [[I hope so]] [[I think you have confused me with somebody else]]

You grinned devilishly not everday you can flirt a princess. You ran an appreciative gaze over her perfect curves and paused for a moment, as if savoring the sight of her. You lips curved into a knowing smirk as you spoke, voice dripping with charm and confidence. "Charming Devil, Gorgeous body, Eyes full of passion!" you leaned in closer to her, your hot breath fanning over her face as you continued. "I think I'm the one." you winked at her before leaning back again. Clara couldn't help but chuckle at you brazenness. "Where did you even find this one, Lucas"? she ask loudy but her eyes not leaving you. Lucas rolled his eyes playfully before answering, "The King requested of them and they're the so called dragon tracker." Clara glanced back at you, a smile lighting up her face. "Well, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I hope my bodyguard hasn't been too much of a hassle for you." You shake your head, "Not at all, in fact, he's been quite the gentleman." Clara chuckled at this, "Oh, Lucas, a gentleman? That's a first!" "Well, they certainly seems like they can handle theirself if they endured your antics, Lucas." She turned her attention back to you. "Welcome to my humble abode, I hope you enjoy your stay." She leaned in and whispered in your ear, "And maybe we can have some fun later, just the two of us." Your heart skipped a beat at the sensual promise in her words. You couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and apprehension at the thought of being alone with Clara. Lucas cleared his throat, breaking the tension between the two of you. "Shall we?" he gestured towards the castle gates. The three of you made your way through the grand entrance and into the castle. The interior was just as magnificent as the exterior. The walls were adorned with exquisite paintings and tapestries, while chandeliers hung from the ceiling casting a warm golden glow throughout the corridors. Marble tiles lined the floors and a flurry of servants rushed about, cleaning and polishing every inch of the castle. Guards patrolled the hallways, their suits of armor glinting in the dim light, swords poised ready at all times. You gasped in amazement as you took everything in. "It's beautiful!" you said breathlessly. "Wait till you see this!" Clara grabbed your arm and began leading you down one of the many hallways, pointing out various artifacts along the way and explaining their history to you. She seemed to know an endless amount of things about her home and its occupants, eagerly sharing her knowledge with you. As she spoke it was evident how much this place meant to her; it was more than just a castle - it was her home. "Finally, this is the family portrait." Clara says in a chirper tone. You stood awestruck by the painting, in admiration for the sheer skill and craftsmanship of the master painter. King Richard proudly stands tall, embodying a regal aura with his majestic robes and crown. His dark brown orbs seemed to gaze upon you with a wise knowingness, while his salt and pepper beard framed his face in a distinguished manner. Next to him, Queen Isobel lit up the canvas with her beauty - her golden locks gracefully fastened behind her neck and cascading down her back like a river of liquid gold. Her delicate features radiated grace and elegance as she regarded the viewers with piercing blue eyes. To their left stood Princess Clara and Lucas, bodyguard to the royal family. The young princess looked almost angelic in her exquisite white gown; her expression held unconditional love for her family. Lucas was an imposing figure at their side - hand resting on his sword hilt ready for battle. It seemed as though time had stopped within this kaleidoscope of color, each character frozen forever in this moment of adoration. "I'm sure you have questions." Clara says confidently and planting her hand on her hip. <<linkreplace "Are the rumors true?">> Ever since the beginning of your journey, you heard stories of Clara's daring and mischievous demeanor. Now as she stands before you, questioning your inquiries, you take a deep breath and ask, “Are the rumors true?” Clara offers a light chuckle and covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh, the rumors are quite true indeed. Though compared to my actual escapades, I'm almost disappointed that the stories fail to capture the sheer intensity of my adventures. You pleadingly gaze into her eyes and ask, “Then can you give me a story that comes from you?” Chuckling at your curiosity, Clara replies, “Very well then. This happened when I was sparring with Lucas. He is a very determined fighter and would not back down. So one day, I decided to exchange his sword with a wooden one and had a painter make it look like the real thing. When we drew our blades for practice sparring, I attacked the wooden blade and it shattered into pieces. The look on Lucas's face when he saw his weapon being cut to ribbons...I will never forget it! He was screaming and pleading for mercy." "You can't possible forget the moment I threw you off your back," Lucas said as he leaned in close to the painting, trying to make out every intricate detail. "Don't believe a word coming from that serpent's mouth, MC," Clara hissed in your ear, her voice barely above a whisper. "Ahh yes, I remember when Queen Isobel laughed at you," Lucas chuckled mockingly, shaking his head. He was enjoying this far too much. "She never lau-!" Clara paused abruptly, eyes widening as if she had just realized what she'd said. "Damnit!" She cursed under her breath, immediately crossing her arms in front of her chest. “You sure do have some interrogation skills there, Lucas!” She snarled. “Nope, just versatile. Plus I remembered also that I won that duel..” Lucas replied cheekily. You watched as the two playfully bantered, their voices ringing out in the space. It was clear that they had a strong bond, like siblings would have. Their laughter was contagious and soon enough you were chuckling along with them, their joy radiating out of them and lighting up the hallway. They stared at each other with an intensity that made your heart swell and a warmth to spread through your body - it was a beautiful moment. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Were you two close when you were kids?">> You looked upon the upon the two with curiosity, wanting to know every single detail about their childhood. "Were you two close when you were kids?" you asked, your eyes fixed on them as they both erupted in laughter. "Very close and tied at the hip," Clara said fondly while playfully punching Lucas' shoulder. But her knuckles instantly regretted it, letting out a painful cry after hitting solid armor. Lucas then shot an accusing finger at Clara, "Yes very close indeed yet I never forget how you'd prank and bullied me. so much!" He quivered as if remembering how he was teased mercilessly back then. Though Clara had a mischievous smirk dancing on her lips, there were misty-eyed memories of their carefree days lurking in her gaze. "C'mon Lucas, don't tell me you still hold a grudge after all these years?" Clara laughed, her cheerful voice echoing in the air. "Grudge? That's an understatement! Who on their right mind will always smother my face with pie first thing in the morning!" Lucas shouted, outraged. "Ahh yes! Creamy pies do look good on you." Clara mused, letting the words linger in the air. This made Clara giggle even more as her eyes sparkled in nostalgia. "And let's not forget the times I'd ambush you while wearing a deer head or bear head and you'd scream like crazy." Lucas shivered at the thought before heaving a sigh. His eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and horror. "Yeah yeah...you call it training but I call it sheer terror." The room filled with laughter as Clara and Lucas reminisced about their childhood adventures. You erupt in a fit of laughter, your cheeks flushing and stomach clenching as you double over with delight. You marvel over their childhood adventures and the spirit of their youth that still remained strong within them. "What a fun childhood," you exhale as Lucas glares at Clara and Clara pulls her tongue at Lucas. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "So how did you Lucas became the Royal Bodyguard of Clara?">> As your uproarious laughter subsides, you lean forward with a glint in your eye. "Lucas," you begin slowly, savoring each word as if they were fine wine. "I must know how you came to be the illustrious Royal Bodyguard of Clara." You feel a knot twisting in your stomach, both from excitement and perhaps the pain from laughing. A pleasant smile pushed away the wrinkles in Lucas' brow from Clara's teasing, and his voice held a note of pride as he began to speak. "It was Garett. He was the one who saw my potential, who taught me how to fight, and even brought my skills to King Richard's attention." Clara nodded her head solemnly in agreement. "I owe it all to Uncle Garett," she said with admiration. "He wasn't just my mentor - he was a father figure for both Lucas and I." Clara paused for a second before continuing her story. "It was Garett who suggested that Lucas be the Royal Bodyguard because he knew that Lucas had the qualities needed for such a position: courage, loyalty, physical strength and an unwavering dedication. So when King Richard asked for someone to protect me ..." Clara shrugged slightly as if trying not to take too much credit for what happened next. Lucas exhaled a deep breath, his bluel eyes squinting as he focused on the task ahead." I was selected!" He continued, “ Yet, I am still required to prove my worth in order to obtain the title. I must take part in a tournament where other knights, like myself, have been recommended by the council officers who deem us fit for the task.” He opened his mouth to say more when Clara cut him off with an amused laugh. "Come now! Quickly tell him about Gaius!" The anticipation hung thick in the air as Lucas paused for a moment to collect his thoughts before beginning again. "Gaius is our most feared and respected knight. Everyone speaks of his legendary skills and abilities on the battlefield, and if I hope to prove myself: it's against him that I must do battle." " The humid air was heavy with anticipation as I stepped into the King's court. Everyone had gathered to watch me, Lucas, and Gaius fight a duel to the death for the title of champion knight. We stood at opposite ends of a raised platform, our eyes locked in an intense stare as we both prepared for battle. I chose my weapons cautiously - a longsword and shield that were light yet strong enough to protect me against Gaius' blows. On the other hand, Gaius had brought a pair of battle axes - each one heavier than the average man could lift - and two metal gauntlets that gleamed brightly under the sunlight. The crowd hushed as I lunged forward, slashing at Gaius' metal gauntlet with my sword. He blocked my attack with little effort and retaliated quickly with a fierce swing of his axe which I managed to block but not without taking some heavy damage to my shield. From then on, it was a flurry of clashing blade and screams of rage and determination ringing throughout the court. While I held onto my composure, Gaius proceeded to rain down blow after blow with no sign of stopping. As time passed, something began stirring inside me - an energy radiating off of me that caught the attention of the crowd. This newfound strength seemed to grow with every clash our weapons made and soon I found myself eagerly embracing this battle despite all odds being stacked against me. Finally, after what felt like hours had passed, I managed to disarm Gaius and claim victory in front of all those watching. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause as King Richard congratulated me graciously - acknowledging that I had earned this title through hard work and sheer determination." Lucas finishes. "Yeah, but it was fun watching your butt get whooped and toss about!" Clara's laughter echoed through the hallway, filling every inch with joy and warmth. She playfully shoved Lucas, teasingly. "It’s moments like these that make me realize how thankful I am to have you around, you know?" Lucas said warmly and teases Clara. Clara said mockingly, her voice ringing through the room like a bell. Her accusing eyes bore into mine as she spat out the words, "You ought to be grateful - without me you would be careless and remiss in your responsibilities." <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Can you tell me about your parents Clara?">> Clara raised her arm to slap Lucas' head playfully but he gracefully evaded and retaliated with a pat on Clara's head. "Too slow." Lucas chuckled, as Clara pouted. "Clara you tell me about your parents?" you ask her. Turning towards you, Clara then asked defensively,"Why? Are you afraid of meeting my parents?" Her taunt was punctuated by her jabbing her finger in your direction. "A little." You admitted between gulps. Enraged at your answer, she exploded, "A litte? You should be terrified if my father found you boring, he will cut your head off!" Clara declared gravely. Gaping at this harsh penalty for being deemed boring, you hesitantly spoke out loud,"That harsh of a penalty for being boring?" "Clara!" Lucas scolded her sternly, glaring at her in disapproval. "You such a buzzkill Lucas," she huffed. "You should have seen the look on your face." She laughed at your expense, poking fun at you some more. "Seriously speaking," Clara's expression softened fondly with memories, "my father is the kindest and considerate man on the kingdom." Then with a warning glint in her eyes, she continued, "It's my mother you should be looking out for. She's very hard to impress and strict." Lucas looked off into the distance, his mind seeming to wander away from the current conversation. "Tell them stories about your mother," he suggested quietly after a lengthy pause, you guess he's having flashbacks? "Prepare yourself MC for my mother's deeds mgiht scar you for life." Clara says in a ominous tone and wiggling her hands for effect. "My mother, Queen Isobel is a feared ruler of Tiara. She is known for her decisive, cunning and mighty nature. She even marched to the battlefield alongside her husband King Richard to defend Tiara. Not afraid to die on the battlefield, she was a tactician who would not hesitate in making the tough decisions." AClara lets out a slight sigh before continuing. "My mother is also known as the Golden Hawk due to her incredible feats. People have said that she could gracefully soar through the air in her golden armor like a hawk, swooping and attacking swiftly to vanquish enemies while at the same time protecting and leading her allies to victory." "Her courage and ferocity was so legendary that it was even said she could bewitch enemies into submission with her double-edged sword. She would charge fearlessly towards them, leaving trails of fire in her wake, while they cowered in fear and surrendered at the sight of their undefeated queen." Clara paused for breath, letting out a chuckle at the end before continuing. "But Mother isn’t just an invincible warrior - she's an incredible strategist. Her strategies were so impressive that even seemingly undefeatable armies would retreat from battle after hearing just one of her plans!" A"You forgot about //Restless Night!//" Lucas muse. "Of course! How can I forget!" Clara face palm. "Another one is my father was engaged in a batte with another opposing kingdom, so leaving my mother here alone." "The Queen's courage and wisdom was truly remarkable," Clara began, her voice hushed with admiration. "She managed to stay one step ahead of her enemies despite facing overwhelming odds. She had the foresight to seize the night and launch a surprise attack, sending a small team of her most stealthy warriors on a mission to set fire to the enemy's supplies." You leaned forward in rapt attention, mesmerized by what she was saying. "How did it end?" you asked, eager for the resolution. A smile crossed Clara's face as she continued her tale. "As dawn broke, the opposition forces were disorientated by their lack of food and weapons, which allowed mother to swoop in and claim victory. When it was all over, she emerged unscathed with her head held high - a testament to her strength, courage and prowess." Lucas voiced his thoughts; his tone reverent and low, "It is obvious why your mother is an inspiration not just in Tiara but throughout the land," he said solemnly. "His Majesty requests your presence in the dining hall!" intoned the servant, bowing humbly before scurrying off. Lucas fidgeted, "I wonder if King Richard is annoyed at being made to wait?" Clara chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eye, "Father is usually quite patient, but before we go there's something I'd like to ask you something <<print $player_name>>." she said pointedly, swinging her arm between them. "Which made an impression on you more <<print $player_name>>? Me or Lucas?" Clara teased, her gaze fixed upon you with amusement. You could see Lucas open his mouth to object but he remained silent instead, curiosity painted across his features. "… Come now <<print $player_name>>, don't be afraid - I promise neither me nor Lucas will be mad whatever your answer may be." Clara reassured you, a glint of mischief in her eyes. You glanced at Lucas uncertainly, willing him to intervene - alas all he did was raise an eyebrow expectantly awaiting your response. <</linkreplace>> [[I pick Lucas]] [[I pick you, My Princess]] [[No comment]]

You stammered, hoping your lack of confidence wasn't too obvious. Clara sauntered over to you, her hips swaying in a hypnotizing rhythm. "Oh, you're such a shy one," she purred in a playful tone. As she leaned into your ear, your heart raced with anticipation. "But don't worry, I can help you bring out that inner confidence." Her words were seductive and filled with promise. In the midst of this charged moment, Lucas interrupted with a throaty cough and arched an eyebrow in disapproval. The atmosphere fizzled as Clara backed away. You couldn't help but feel embarrassed by the interruption and disappointed at what might have been. "Where did you even find this one, Lucas"? she ask loudy but her eyes not leaving you. Lucas rolled his eyes playfully before answering, "The King requested of mc?them and they're the so called dragon tracker." Clara glanced back at you, a smile lighting up her face. "Well, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I hope my bodyguard hasn't been too much of a hassle for you." You shake your head, "Not at all, in fact, he's been quite the gentleman." Clara chuckled at this, "Oh, Lucas, a gentleman? That's a first!" "Well, they certainly seems like they can handle mc?theirself if mc?they endured your antics, Lucas." She turned her attention back to you. "Welcome to my humble abode, I hope you enjoy your stay." She leaned in and whispered in your ear, "And maybe we can have some fun later, just the two of us." Your heart skipped a beat at the sensual promise in her words. You couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and apprehension at the thought of being alone with Clara. Lucas cleared his throat, breaking the tension between the two of you. "Shall we?" he gestured towards the castle gates. The three of you made your way through the grand entrance and into the castle. The interior was just as magnificent as the exterior. The walls were adorned with exquisite paintings and tapestries, while chandeliers hung from the ceiling casting a warm golden glow throughout the corridors. Marble tiles lined the floors and a flurry of servants rushed about, cleaning and polishing every inch of the castle. Guards patrolled the hallways, their suits of armor glinting in the dim light, swords poised ready at all times. You gasped in amazement as you took everything in. "It's beautiful!" you said breathlessly. "Wait till you see this!" Clara grabbed your arm and began leading you down one of the many hallways, pointing out various artifacts along the way and explaining their history to you. She seemed to know an endless amount of things about her home and its occupants, eagerly sharing her knowledge with you. As she spoke it was evident how much this place meant to her; it was more than just a castle - it was her home. "Finally, this is the family portrait." Clara says in a chirper tone. You stood awestruck by the painting, in admiration for the sheer skill and craftsmanship of the master painter. King Richard proudly stands tall, embodying a regal aura with his majestic robes and crown. His dark brown orbs seemed to gaze upon you with a wise knowingness, while his salt and pepper beard framed his face in a distinguished manner. Next to him, Queen Isobel lit up the canvas with her beauty - her golden locks gracefully fastened behind her neck and cascading down her back like a river of liquid gold. Her delicate features radiated grace and elegance as she regarded the viewers with piercing blue eyes. To their left stood Princess Clara and Lucas, bodyguard to the royal family. The young princess looked almost angelic in her exquisite white gown; her expression held unconditional love for her family. Lucas was an imposing figure at their side - hand resting on his sword hilt ready for battle. It seemed as though time had stopped within this kaleidoscope of color, each character frozen forever in this moment of adoration. "I'm sure you have questions." Clara says confidently and planting her hand on her hip. <<linkreplace "Are the rumors true?">> Ever since the beginning of your journey, you heard stories of Clara's daring and mischievous demeanor. Now as she stands before you, questioning your inquiries, you take a deep breath and ask, “Are the rumors true?” Clara offers a light chuckle and covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh, the rumors are quite true indeed. Though compared to my actual escapades, I'm almost disappointed that the stories fail to capture the sheer intensity of my adventures. You pleadingly gaze into her eyes and ask, “Then can you give me a story that comes from you?” Chuckling at your curiosity, Clara replies, “Very well then. This happened when I was sparring with Lucas. He is a very determined fighter and would not back down. So one day, I decided to exchange his sword with a wooden one and had a painter make it look like the real thing. When we drew our blades for practice sparring, I attacked the wooden blade and it shattered into pieces. The look on Lucas's face when he saw his weapon being cut to ribbons...I will never forget it! He was screaming and pleading for mercy." "You can't possible forget the moment I threw you off your back," Lucas said as he leaned in close to the painting, trying to make out every intricate detail. "Don't believe a word coming from that serpent's mouth, MC," Clara hissed in your ear, her voice barely above a whisper. "Ahh yes, I remember when Queen Isobel laughed at you," Lucas chuckled mockingly, shaking his head. He was enjoying this far too much. "She never lau-!" Clara paused abruptly, eyes widening as if she had just realized what she'd said. "Damnit!" She cursed under her breath, immediately crossing her arms in front of her chest. “You sure do have some interrogation skills there, Lucas!” She snarled. “Nope, just versatile. Plus I remembered also that I won that duel..” Lucas replied cheekily. You watched as the two playfully bantered, their voices ringing out in the space. It was clear that they had a strong bond, like siblings would have. Their laughter was contagious and soon enough you were chuckling along with them, their joy radiating out of them and lighting up the hallway. They stared at each other with an intensity that made your heart swell and a warmth to spread through your body - it was a beautiful moment. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Were you two close when you were kids?">> You looked upon the upon the two with curiosity, wanting to know every single detail about their childhood. "Were you two close when you were kids?" you asked, your eyes fixed on them as they both erupted in laughter. "Very close and tied at the hip," Clara said fondly while playfully punching Lucas' shoulder. But her knuckles instantly regretted it, letting out a painful cry after hitting solid armor. Lucas then shot an accusing finger at Clara, "Yes very close indeed yet I never forget how you'd prank and bullied me. so much!" He quivered as if remembering how he was teased mercilessly back then. Though Clara had a mischievous smirk dancing on her lips, there were misty-eyed memories of their carefree days lurking in her gaze. "C'mon Lucas, don't tell me you still hold a grudge after all these years?" Clara laughed, her cheerful voice echoing in the air. "Grudge? That's an understatement! Who on their right mind will always smother my face with pie first thing in the morning!" Lucas shouted, outraged. "Ahh yes! Creamy pies do look good on you." Clara mused, letting the words linger in the air. This made Clara giggle even more as her eyes sparkled in nostalgia. "And let's not forget the times I'd ambush you while wearing a deer head or bear head and you'd scream like crazy." Lucas shivered at the thought before heaving a sigh. His eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and horror. "Yeah yeah...you call it training but I call it sheer terror." The room filled with laughter as Clara and Lucas reminisced about their childhood adventures. You erupt in a fit of laughter, your cheeks flushing and stomach clenching as you double over with delight. You marvel over their childhood adventures and the spirit of their youth that still remained strong within them. "What a fun childhood," you exhale as Lucas glares at Clara and Clara pulls her tongue at Lucas. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "So how did you Lucas became the Royal Bodyguard of Clara?">> As your uproarious laughter subsides, you lean forward with a glint in your eye. "Lucas," you begin slowly, savoring each word as if they were fine wine. "I must know how you came to be the illustrious Royal Bodyguard of Clara." You feel a knot twisting in your stomach, both from excitement and perhaps the pain from laughing. A pleasant smile pushed away the wrinkles in Lucas' brow from Clara's teasing, and his voice held a note of pride as he began to speak. "It was Garett. He was the one who saw my potential, who taught me how to fight, and even brought my skills to King Richard's attention." Clara nodded her head solemnly in agreement. "I owe it all to Uncle Garett," she said with admiration. "He wasn't just my mentor - he was a father figure for both Lucas and I." Clara paused for a second before continuing her story. "It was Garett who suggested that Lucas be the Royal Bodyguard because he knew that Lucas had the qualities needed for such a position: courage, loyalty, physical strength and an unwavering dedication. So when King Richard asked for someone to protect me ..." Clara shrugged slightly as if trying not to take too much credit for what happened next. Lucas exhaled a deep breath, his bluel eyes squinting as he focused on the task ahead." I was selected!" He continued, “ Yet, I am still required to prove my worth in order to obtain the title. I must take part in a tournament where other knights, like myself, have been recommended by the council officers who deem us fit for the task.” He opened his mouth to say more when Clara cut him off with an amused laugh. "Come now! Quickly tell him about Gaius!" The anticipation hung thick in the air as Lucas paused for a moment to collect his thoughts before beginning again. "Gaius is our most feared and respected knight. Everyone speaks of his legendary skills and abilities on the battlefield, and if I hope to prove myself: it's against him that I must do battle." The humid air was heavy with anticipation as I stepped into the King's court. Everyone had gathered to watch me, Lucas, and Gaius fight a duel to the death for the title of champion knight. We stood at opposite ends of a raised platform, our eyes locked in an intense stare as we both prepared for battle. I chose my weapons cautiously - a longsword and shield that were light yet strong enough to protect me against Gaius' blows. On the other hand, Gaius had brought a pair of battle axes - each one heavier than the average man could lift - and two metal gauntlets that gleamed brightly under the sunlight. The crowd hushed as I lunged forward, slashing at Gaius' metal gauntlet with my sword. He blocked my attack with little effort and retaliated quickly with a fierce swing of his axe which I managed to block but not without taking some heavy damage to my shield. From then on, it was a flurry of clashing blade and screams of rage and determination ringing throughout the court. While I held onto my composure, Gaius proceeded to rain down blow after blow with no sign of stopping. As time passed, something began stirring inside me - an energy radiating off of me that caught the attention of the crowd. This newfound strength seemed to grow with every clash our weapons made and soon I found myself eagerly embracing this battle despite all odds being stacked against me. Finally, after what felt like hours had passed, I managed to disarm Gaius and claim victory in front of all those watching. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause as King Richard congratulated me graciously - acknowledging that I had earned this title through hard work and sheer determination." Lucas finishes. "Yeah, but it was fun watching your butt get whooped and toss about!" Clara's laughter echoed through the hallway, filling every inch with joy and warmth. She playfully shoved Lucas, teasingly. "It’s moments like these that make me realize how thankful I am to have you around, you know?" Lucas said warmly and teases Clara. Clara said mockingly, her voice ringing through the room like a bell. Her accusing eyes bore into mine as she spat out the words, "You ought to be grateful - without me you would be careless and remiss in your responsibilities." <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Can you tell me about your parents Clara?">> Clara raised her arm to slap Lucas' head playfully but he gracefully evaded and retaliated with a pat on Clara's head. "Too slow." Lucas chuckled, as Clara pouted. "Clara you tell me about your parents?" you ask her. Turning towards you, Clara then asked defensively,"Why? Are you afraid of meeting my parents?" Her taunt was punctuated by her jabbing her finger in your direction. "A little." You admitted between gulps. Enraged at your answer, she exploded, "A litte? You should be terrified if my father found you boring, he will cut your head off!" Clara declared gravely. Gaping at this harsh penalty for being deemed boring, you hesitantly spoke out loud,"That harsh of a penalty for being boring?" "Clara!" Lucas scolded her sternly, glaring at her in disapproval. "You such a buzzkill Lucas," she huffed. "You should have seen the look on your face." She laughed at your expense, poking fun at you some more. "Seriously speaking," Clara's expression softened fondly with memories, "my father is the kindest and considerate man on the kingdom." Then with a warning glint in her eyes, she continued, "It's my mother you should be looking out for. She's very hard to impress and strict." Lucas looked off into the distance, his mind seeming to wander away from the current conversation. "Tell them stories about your mother," he suggested quietly after a lengthy pause, you guess he's having flashbacks? "Prepare yourself MC for my mother's deeds mgiht scar you for life." Clara says in a ominous tone and wiggling her hands for effect. "My mother, Queen Isobel is a feared ruler of Tiara. She is known for her decisive, cunning and mighty nature. She even marched to the battlefield alongside her husband King Richard to defend Tiara. Not afraid to die on the battlefield, she was a tactician who would not hesitate in making the tough decisions." AClara lets out a slight sigh before continuing. "My mother is also known as the Golden Hawk due to her incredible feats. People have said that she could gracefully soar through the air in her golden armor like a hawk, swooping and attacking swiftly to vanquish enemies while at the same time protecting and leading her allies to victory." "Her courage and ferocity was so legendary that it was even said she could bewitch enemies into submission with her double-edged sword. She would charge fearlessly towards them, leaving trails of fire in her wake, while they cowered in fear and surrendered at the sight of their undefeated queen." Clara paused for breath, letting out a chuckle at the end before continuing. "But Mother isn’t just an invincible warrior - she's an incredible strategist. Her strategies were so impressive that even seemingly undefeatable armies would retreat from battle after hearing just one of her plans!" A"You forgot about //Restless Night!//" Lucas muse. "Of course! How can I forget!" Clara face palm. "Another one is my father was engaged in a batte with another opposing kingdom, so leaving my mother here alone." "The Queen's courage and wisdom was truly remarkable," Clara began, her voice hushed with admiration. "She managed to stay one step ahead of her enemies despite facing overwhelming odds. She had the foresight to seize the night and launch a surprise attack, sending a small team of her most stealthy warriors on a mission to set fire to the enemy's supplies." You leaned forward in rapt attention, mesmerized by what she was saying. "How did it end?" you asked, eager for the resolution. A smile crossed Clara's face as she continued her tale. "As dawn broke, the opposition forces were disorientated by their lack of food and weapons, which allowed mother to swoop in and claim victory. When it was all over, she emerged unscathed with her head held high - a testament to her strength, courage and prowess." Lucas voiced his thoughts; his tone reverent and low, "It is obvious why your mother is an inspiration not just in Tiara but throughout the land," he said solemnly. "His Majesty requests your presence in the dining hall!" intoned the servant, bowing humbly before scurrying off. Lucas fidgeted, "I wonder if King Richard is annoyed at being made to wait?" Clara chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eye, "Father is usually quite patient, but before we go there's something I'd like to ask you something <<print $player_name>> ." She said pointedly, swinging her arm between them. "Which made an impression on you more <<print $player_name>>? Me or Lucas?" Clara teased, her gaze fixed upon you with amusement. You could see Lucas open his mouth to object but he remained silent instead, curiosity painted across his features. "… Come now <<print $player_name>>, don't be afraid - I promise neither me nor Lucas will be mad whatever your answer may be." Clara reassured you, a glint of mischief in her eyes. You glanced at Lucas uncertainly, willing him to intervene - alas all he did was raise an eyebrow expectantly awaiting your response. [[I pick Lucas]] [[I pick you, My Princess]] [[No comment]] <</linkreplace>>

“I don’t think so, you have me mistaken for somebody else.” You smirked at Clara’s boldness. “No, I know it’s you!” she exclaimed as she inched closer towards your person. Her soft breath tickled your neck and suddenly, the tension in the air became palpable. You could feel the heat radiating from her body as she stepped even nearer, her gaze boring into you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. "Can you tell me more about the stranger?" You asked Clara as a mischievous smile tugged at your lips. Clara took a long pause, her slender fingers tracing circles on your shoulders. "It's difficult to explain them without being present," she finally said in a cryptic tone. "But maybe I can show you what we were doing under the moon's watchful gaze" She added, adding another layer of drama and tension. "Achem!" Lucas coughs with a eyebrow raised. "Where did you even find this one, Lucas"? she ask loudy but her eyes not leaving you. Lucas rolled his eyes playfully before answering, "The King requested of mc?them and they're the so called dragon tracker." Clara glanced back at you, a smile lighting up her face. "Well, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I hope my bodyguard hasn't been too much of a hassle for you." You shake your head, "Not at all, in fact, he's been quite the gentleman." Clara chuckled at this, "Oh, Lucas, a gentleman? That's a first!" "Well, they certainly seems like they can handle theirself if they endured your antics, Lucas." She turned her attention back to you. "Welcome to my humble abode, I hope you enjoy your stay." She leaned in and whispered in your ear, "And maybe we can have some fun later, just the two of us." Your heart skipped a beat at the sensual promise in her words. You couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and apprehension at the thought of being alone with Clara. Lucas cleared his throat, breaking the tension between the two of you. "Shall we?" he gestured towards the castle gates. The three of you made your way through the grand entrance and into the castle. The interior was just as magnificent as the exterior. The walls were adorned with exquisite paintings and tapestries, while chandeliers hung from the ceiling casting a warm golden glow throughout the corridors. Marble tiles lined the floors and a flurry of servants rushed about, cleaning and polishing every inch of the castle. Guards patrolled the hallways, their suits of armor glinting in the dim light, swords poised ready at all times. You gasped in amazement as you took everything in. "It's beautiful!" you said breathlessly. "Wait till you see this!" Clara grabbed your arm and began leading you down one of the many hallways, pointing out various artifacts along the way and explaining their history to you. She seemed to know an endless amount of things about her home and its occupants, eagerly sharing her knowledge with you. As she spoke it was evident how much this place meant to her; it was more than just a castle - it was her home. "Finally, this is the family portrait." Clara says in a chirper tone. You stood awestruck by the painting, in admiration for the sheer skill and craftsmanship of the master painter. King Richard proudly stands tall, embodying a regal aura with his majestic robes and crown. His dark brown orbs seemed to gaze upon you with a wise knowingness, while his salt and pepper beard framed his face in a distinguished manner. Next to him, Queen Isobel lit up the canvas with her beauty - her golden locks gracefully fastened behind her neck and cascading down her back like a river of liquid gold. Her delicate features radiated grace and elegance as she regarded the viewers with piercing blue eyes. To their left stood Princess Clara and Lucas, bodyguard to the royal family. The young princess looked almost angelic in her exquisite white gown; her expression held unconditional love for her family. Lucas was an imposing figure at their side - hand resting on his sword hilt ready for battle. It seemed as though time had stopped within this kaleidoscope of color, each character frozen forever in this moment of adoration. "I'm sure you have questions." Clara says confidently and planting her hand on her hip. <<linkreplace "Are the rumors true?">> Ever since the beginning of your journey, you heard stories of Clara's daring and mischievous demeanor. Now as she stands before you, questioning your inquiries, you take a deep breath and ask, “Are the rumors true?” Clara offers a light chuckle and covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh, the rumors are quite true indeed. Though compared to my actual escapades, I'm almost disappointed that the stories fail to capture the sheer intensity of my adventures. You pleadingly gaze into her eyes and ask, “Then can you give me a story that comes from you?” Chuckling at your curiosity, Clara replies, “Very well then. This happened when I was sparring with Lucas. He is a very determined fighter and would not back down. So one day, I decided to exchange his sword with a wooden one and had a painter make it look like the real thing. When we drew our blades for practice sparring, I attacked the wooden blade and it shattered into pieces. The look on Lucas's face when he saw his weapon being cut to ribbons...I will never forget it! He was screaming and pleading for mercy." "You can't possible forget the moment I threw you off your back," Lucas said as he leaned in close to the painting, trying to make out every intricate detail. "Don't believe a word coming from that serpent's mouth, <<print $player_name>>," Clara hissed in your ear, her voice barely above a whisper. "Ahh yes, I remember when Queen Isobel laughed at you," Lucas chuckled mockingly, shaking his head. He was enjoying this far too much. "She never lau-!" Clara paused abruptly, eyes widening as if she had just realized what she'd said. "Damnit!" She cursed under her breath, immediately crossing her arms in front of her chest. “You sure do have some interrogation skills there, Lucas!” She snarled. “Nope, just versatile. Plus I remembered also that I won that duel..” Lucas replied cheekily. You watched as the two playfully bantered, their voices ringing out in the space. It was clear that they had a strong bond, like siblings would have. Their laughter was contagious and soon enough you were chuckling along with them, their joy radiating out of them and lighting up the hallway. They stared at each other with an intensity that made your heart swell and a warmth to spread through your body - it was a beautiful moment. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Were you two close when you were kids?">> You looked upon the upon the two with curiosity, wanting to know every single detail about their childhood. "Were you two close when you were kids?" you asked, your eyes fixed on them as they both erupted in laughter. "Very close and tied at the hip," Clara said fondly while playfully punching Lucas' shoulder. But her knuckles instantly regretted it, letting out a painful cry after hitting solid armor. Lucas then shot an accusing finger at Clara, "Yes very close indeed yet I never forget how you'd prank and bullied me, so much!" He quivered as if remembering how he was teased mercilessly back then. Though Clara had a mischievous smirk dancing on her lips, there were misty-eyed memories of their carefree days lurking in her gaze. "C'mon Lucas, don't tell me you still hold a grudge after all these years?" Clara laughed, her cheerful voice echoing in the air. "Grudge? That's an understatement! Who on their right mind will always smother my face with pie first thing in the morning!" Lucas shouted, outraged. "Ahh yes! Creamy pies do look good on you." Clara mused, letting the words linger in the air. This made Clara giggle even more as her eyes sparkled in nostalgia. "And let's not forget the times I'd ambush you while wearing a deer head or bear head and you'd scream like crazy." Lucas shivered at the thought before heaving a sigh. His eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and horror. "Yeah yeah...you call it training but I call it sheer terror." The room filled with laughter as Clara and Lucas reminisced about their childhood adventures. You erupt in a fit of laughter, your cheeks flushing and stomach clenching as you double over with delight. You marvel over their childhood adventures and the spirit of their youth that still remained strong within them. "What a fun childhood," you exhale as Lucas glares at Clara and Clara pulls her tongue at Lucas. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "So how did you Lucas became the Royal Bodyguard of Clara?">> As your uproarious laughter subsides, you lean forward with a glint in your eye. "Lucas," you begin slowly, savoring each word as if they were fine wine. "I must know how you came to be the illustrious Royal Bodyguard of Clara." You feel a knot twisting in your stomach, both from excitement and perhaps the pain from laughing. A pleasant smile pushed away the wrinkles in Lucas' brow from Clara's teasing, and his voice held a note of pride as he began to speak. "It was Garett. He was the one who saw my potential, who taught me how to fight, and even brought my skills to King Richard's attention." Clara nodded her head solemnly in agreement. "I owe it all to Uncle Garett," she said with admiration. "He wasn't just my mentor - he was a father figure for both Lucas and I." Clara paused for a second before continuing her story. "It was Garett who suggested that Lucas be the Royal Bodyguard because he knew that Lucas had the qualities needed for such a position: courage, loyalty, physical strength and an unwavering dedication. So when King Richard asked for someone to protect me ..." Clara shrugged slightly as if trying not to take too much credit for what happened next. Lucas exhaled a deep breath, his blue eyes squinting as he focused on the task ahead." I was selected!" He continued, “ Yet, I am still required to prove my worth in order to obtain the title. I must take part in a tournament where other knights, like myself, have been recommended by the council officers who deem us fit for the task.” He opened his mouth to say more when Clara cut him off with an amused laugh. "Come now! Quickly tell him about Gaius!" The anticipation hung thick in the air as Lucas paused for a moment to collect his thoughts before beginning again. "Gaius is our most feared and respected knight. Everyone speaks of his legendary skills and abilities on the battlefield, and if I hope to prove myself: it's against him that I must do battle." The humid air was heavy with anticipation as I stepped into the King's court. Everyone had gathered to watch me, Lucas, and Gaius fight a duel to the death for the title of champion knight. We stood at opposite ends of a raised platform, our eyes locked in an intense stare as we both prepared for battle. I chose my weapons cautiously - a longsword and shield that were light yet strong enough to protect me against Gaius' blows. On the other hand, Gaius had brought a pair of battle axes - each one heavier than the average man could lift - and two metal gauntlets that gleamed brightly under the sunlight. The crowd hushed as I lunged forward, slashing at Gaius' metal gauntlet with my sword. He blocked my attack with little effort and retaliated quickly with a fierce swing of his axe which I managed to block but not without taking some heavy damage to my shield. From then on, it was a flurry of clashing blade and screams of rage and determination ringing throughout the court. While I held onto my composure, Gaius proceeded to rain down blow after blow with no sign of stopping. As time passed, something began stirring inside me - an energy radiating off of me that caught the attention of the crowd. This newfound strength seemed to grow with every clash our weapons made and soon I found myself eagerly embracing this battle despite all odds being stacked against me. Finally, after what felt like hours had passed, I managed to disarm Gaius and claim victory in front of all those watching. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause as King Richard congratulated me graciously - acknowledging that I had earned this title through hard work and sheer determination." Lucas finishes. "Yeah, but it was fun watching your butt get whooped and toss about!" Clara's laughter echoed through the hallway, filling every inch with joy and warmth. She playfully shoved Lucas, teasingly. "It’s moments like these that make me realize how thankful I am to have you around, you know?" Lucas said warmly and teases Clara. Clara said mockingly, her voice ringing through the room like a bell. Her accusing eyes bore into mine as she spat out the words, "You ought to be grateful - without me you would be careless and remiss in your responsibilities." <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Can you tell me about your parents Clara?">> Clara raised her arm to slap Lucas' head playfully but he gracefully evaded and retaliated with a pat on Clara's head. "Too slow." Lucas chuckled, as Clara pouted. "Clara you tell me about your parents?" you ask her. Turning towards you, Clara then asked defensively,"Why? Are you afraid of meeting my parents?" Her taunt was punctuated by her jabbing her finger in your direction. "A little." You admitted between gulps. Enraged at your answer, she exploded, "A litte? You should be terrified if my father found you boring, he will cut your head off!" Clara declared gravely. Gaping at this harsh penalty for being deemed boring, you hesitantly spoke out loud,"That harsh of a penalty for being boring?" "Clara!" Lucas scolded her sternly, glaring at her in disapproval. "You such a buzzkill Lucas," she huffed. "You should have seen the look on your face." She laughed at your expense, poking fun at you some more. "Seriously speaking," Clara's expression softened fondly with memories, "My father is the kindest and considerate man on the kingdom." Then with a warning glint in her eyes, she continued, "It's my mother you should be looking out for. She's very hard to impress and very strict." Lucas looked off into the distance, his mind seeming to wander away from the current conversation. "Tell them stories about your mother," he suggested quietly after a lengthy pause, you guess he's having flashbacks? "Prepare yourself <<print $player_name>> for my mother's deeds and hearing this might scar you for life." Clara says in a ominous tone and wiggling her hands for effect. "My mother, Queen Isobel is a feared ruler of Tiara. She is known for her decisive, cunning and mighty nature. She even marched to the battlefield alongside her husband King Richard to defend Tiara. Not afraid to die on the battlefield, she was a tactician who would not hesitate in making the tough decisions." Clara lets out a slight sigh before continuing. "My mother is also known as the Golden Hawk due to her incredible feats. People have said that she could gracefully soar through the air in her golden armor like a hawk, swooping and attacking swiftly to vanquish enemies while at the same time protecting and leading her allies to victory." "Her courage and ferocity was so legendary that it was even said she could bewitch enemies into submission with her double-edged sword. She would charge fearlessly towards them, leaving trails of fire in her wake, while they cowered in fear and surrendered at the sight of their undefeated queen." Clara paused for breath, letting out a chuckle at the end before continuing. "But Mother isn’t just an invincible warrior - she's an incredible strategist. Her strategies were so impressive that even seemingly undefeatable armies would retreat from battle after hearing just one of her plans!" "You forgot about //Restless Night!//" Lucas muse. "Of course! How can I forget!" Clara face palm. "Another one is my father was engaged in a batte with another opposing kingdom, so leaving my mother here alone." "The Queen's courage and wisdom was truly remarkable," Clara began, her voice hushed with admiration. "She managed to stay one step ahead of her enemies despite facing overwhelming odds. She had the foresight to seize the night and launch a surprise attack, sending a small team of her most stealthy warriors on a mission to set fire to the enemy's supplies." You leaned forward in rapt attention, mesmerized by what she was saying. "How did it end?" you asked, eager for the resolution. A smile crossed Clara's face as she continued her tale. "As dawn broke, the opposition forces were disorientated by their lack of food and weapons, which allowed mother to swoop in and claim victory. When it was all over, she emerged unscathed with her head held high - a testament to her strength, courage and prowess." Lucas voiced his thoughts; his tone reverent and low, "It is obvious why your mother is an inspiration not just in Tiara but throughout the land," he said solemnly. "His Majesty requests your presence in the dining hall!" intoned the servant, bowing humbly before scurrying off. Lucas fidgeted, "I wonder if King Richard is annoyed at being made to wait?" Clara chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eye, "Father is usually quite patient, but before we go there's something I'd like to ask you something <<print$player_name>>." She said pointedly, swinging her arm between them. "Which made an impression on you more <<print $player_name>>? Me or Lucas?" Clara teased, her gaze fixed upon you with amusement. You could see Lucas open his mouth to object but he remained silent instead, curiosity painted across his features. "… Come now <<print $player_name>>, don't be afraid - I promise neither me nor Lucas will be mad whatever your answer may be." Clara reassured you, a glint of mischief in her eyes. You glanced at Lucas uncertainly, willing him to intervene - alas all he did was raise an eyebrow expectantly awaiting your response. [[I pick Lucas]] [[I pick you, My Princess]] [[No comment]] <</linkreplace>>

Your eyes meet Lucas' and you are enraptured by the cold beauty of his icy blue orbs. You feel a strange desire to explore his frosty tundra, curious to know what secrets lie beneath the surface. His body tightens protectively when someone gets too close to you, as if ready to leap in your defense. Every muscle tense with purpose, his sense of duty guiding him even in moments like these. His presence is a comfort to you; a guardian at your side, always ready to come to your aid in times of need. He warned it was unwise for you to be associated with him, that such a thing could only lead to danger. But this only served as a challenge - one that you were more than willing to take on. After all, you had read enough accounts of crumbling kingdoms and lone wolves desperate against insurmountable odds. Your eagerness only grew stronger. Your voice resonated through the room, unwavering and certain. "I pick Lucas!" you declared with conviction. Clara sauntered over to him, draped her arm around his shoulder. "Did you hear that, my dear Lucas? It seems I'll be a Godmother someday!" She chortled merrily. Lucas cast his gaze upon you, with a smile that sent shivers down your spine. "Thank you for choosing me," he responded wholeheartedly. But suddenly, the light vanished from his eyes, replaced by an expression of pain and regret. He spoke with a steady, controlled voice as his fists clenched in anger. "I'm sorry, but for your safety, I must decline." And with those words, he wrenched himself free from Clara's grasp and strode away from both of you. "Let's not keep the King waiting any longer," he muttered as he trudged on. His rejection cut deep into your heart like a serrated knife. Clara must have sensed your distress because she wrapped her arms around you to console you gently. Her somber tone broke the somber silence in the room. "Lucas doesn't mean those things," Clara says sensing your turmoil. "He's complicated, if you knew his story, you would understand him better." Her tone is somber as she speaks of his past. As the weight of Lucas' absence settles upon you both, you can't help but feel there is more to this than meets the eye. The truth will reveal itself in time, but for now, all you can do is wonder what secrets Lucas holds close to his heart. "Let's go." Clara says gently, she moved forward with grace and purpose and you walked beside her. ''//(Lucas' POV)//'' You reluctantly left the presence of the princess, knowing you should have stayed and done your duty. But something inside of you urged you to go, as if it wanted to protect your heart from inevitable suffering. Your mind kept replaying the moment when Clara asked <<print $player_name>> for ?mctheir decision, and the one syllable that escaped your lips felt like a blade cutting through flesh - "I must decline!" You watched in agony as ?mctheir eyes filled with abject defeat and despair, and regret slowly began to creep into your bones. What were you doing? Decline? Was <<print $player_name>> just an item on a shelf where after reading its contents, you rejected it and put it back on the rack? This was exactly why you kept away from people, why you spent years training physically, mentally, and emotionally - to build up several walls between yourself and the outside world. All those years of hard work to construct those walls, only for them to be torn piece by piece by just one person, and crumble down entirely with only one statement - //"I choose you, Lucas!"// Though a few layers of defenses had been breached, there were more deeper within your heart which would prove harder to break down. You had made that mistake before; opening your heart at a cost so high it left permanent scars all around. The voice of your loved ones keeping you going echoed in your head - "RUN BOY! DON'T LOOK BACK! I WILL HOLD THEM AS LONG AS I CAN!" - making it even more difficult for anyone to get close. "I will not make the same mistakes again." you declared out loud. "Father..." A lump formed in your throat as memories flooded back - sword clashes, screams, spilled blood...The nightmare ran on a continuous loop inside your skull as if reliving it all over again. You knew then that no matter how much temptation arose, no matter how much pain or sorrow came with rejecting <<print $player_name>>'s offer, this time you'd make sure to strengthen your emotional barriers and make them impenetrable. "Forgive me <<print $player_name>>!" ''//(MC's POV)//'' You and Clara gazed with wonderment upon the towering gates that lay before you. Intricate designs bordered each side of the gateway, bedazzling your sight even more was a golden door handle that shone in the light of the setting sun. "Finally you have arrive," Lucas said in a calm manner. "Shall we?" He then reached for the golden doorknob and pushed the doors open with a flourish, leading to a realm of unknown. You, Lucas and Clara stepped into the large dining room, the walls were covered in paintings of ancient kings, the chandelier above you glittered and sparkled. The centerpiece, however, was the long dining table that extended almost the entire length of the room. You counted eight chairs along it, each adorned with a different colored cloth to differentiate between seating arrangements. You saw King Richard seated at one end of the table – so majestic and regal that you were entranced by his presence. He was much older than the portrait you had seen previously, his hair still has some color to it but you seem there are locks of grey and wrinkles had formed on his face; but he still held a certain air around him that could not be ignored. Clara walked closer to the king, her deep-amber eyes gazing onto King Richard. She gave her father a peck on the check. "Father I'm sorry we took so long." A welcoming smile grew on Richard's face. "No worries my sweet!" kissing the cheek of his daughter in return, then he gestured for Lucas and Clara to sit. With a hint of nervousness, Lucas took the grand wooden chair to the left and Clara seated herself on the right. The room fell silent as all eyes were now focused on you. You could feel your heart racing. Where should you seat yourself? [[I sit near to Lucas]] [[I sit near to Clara]]

Clara stood there waiting for your answer, illuminating the entire space with her beauty. Her auburn tresses flowed down her shoulders like liquid fire, while her delicate skin shone like pristine porcelain. Her lips were full and redder than freshly-picked rose petals, soft and inviting. But it was her eyes, those mesmerizing golden orbs that drew you in and seemed to burn into your soul. A surge of unfamiliar emotion rushed through you, making you feel alive yet terrified all at once. It felt almost like waking up from a deep sleep—as if everything around you had suddenly become brighter, more vivid than before. With a sweep of your hand, you flashed an enigmatic smile worthy of a Prince. "I pick you, My Princess!" you declared, casting a charming gaze upon Clara. Clara's laughter filled the air, like tinkling bells on a warm summer breeze. "Oh, you charmer," she teased, shaking her head in disbelief. "You're certainly more than meets the eye," she added with a sly wink. Lucas, ever the jester, chimed in. "Well, well, well - looks like I'm not the only one who sees your worth." Clara turned to him and grinned mischievously. "Lucas, my dear friend - could you perhaps perform the holy sacrament if fate decrees it?" "Anything for you, my lady," he replied mockingly, bowing his head low. "Though I shall need some time to prepare myself for such an exalted position." "Glad to hear it," Clara giggled. She seized her chance and landed a playful slap on Lucas' head. "Ha! Gotcha!" she exclaimed in triumph. Lucas stood there dumbfounded before congratulating her with good grace. You couldn't help but ask."Lucas a priest? Are we getting engaged?" Clara sensed your unease and spoke cryptically. "Relax <<print $player_name>> - it's just a jest. But who knows what the future holds? As they say, Plans are nothing but planning is everything." Clara threw her head back, laughter spilling out of her as she said with a tone full of vivaciousness, “Now if you excuse me! I will be going to tell father about our future together!” Your eyes widened in shock. “Wait I thought you said it was just a jest!” you exclaimed desperately but Clara merely tilted her nose up in the air and sauntered away, ignoring your plea as the fabric of her gown trailed behind her like a bewitching spirit. Lucas chuckled heartily at your reaction before clapping his hands. “Don't mind her, is just her way saying that she likes you!” he teased with a glint in his eye before waving his hand to signal for you to follow him. “Come!” ''//(Clara's POV)//'' You drifted through the hallways as if in a trance, your hands brushing against the wall for guidance. You had interacted with countless people in the past, yet none of them had ever stirred such emotions within you. Indeed, most people shied away from you due to your title and unapproachable air, while some reciprocated this futile flirtation out of duty or respect. However, <<print $player_name>> was different—there was something in ?mctheir gaze that piqued your interest in ways you never knew you were capable of feeling. Your parents had introduced you to many suitors over the years, but they all lacked enthusiasm. Boring and too-proper for your liking – not that Clara would dare express her opinion out loud. <<print $player_name>> on the other hand seemed so unique, so untamable; someone who followed ?mctheir own rules—a rebel with a certain magnetism that kept drawing her closer and closer like an invisible force. What was it about this mysterious person that had such an effect on her? Was it ?mctheir aura? ?mcTheir crooked smirk? Or even ?mctheir candid way of talking? Whatever it may have been, Clara could not help herself from being enchanted by ?mcthem and dreaming up wild adventures for the two of them to embark on together. An impish plan started to formulate in her mind and her heart raced in anticipation; sailing around the coasts of unknown lands, outrunning enemies as they laughed at danger. Her heart began to beat rapidly, with every thought of the future she would have with <<print $player_name>>. She envisioned amazing adventures full of danger and excitement, sailing on a ship across cobalt oceans and participating in daring sword fights for justice. Clara detailed each scene in her mind, from romantic picnics under the stars to carriage rides around town during nightfall. A peculiar feeling bubbled up inside her as she pictured the two of them together. Clara tried to decipher what it was but the sensation was so unfamiliar that even the brilliant woman couldn't put her finger on it. "A very unique specimen indeed!" she murmured to herself. With a plateful of curiosity, Clara licked her lips in anticipation as if ready to taste something remarkable and get lost in its flavor. ''//(MC's POV)//'' You and Lucas gazed with wonderment upon the towering gates that lay before you. Intricate designs bordered each side of the gateway, bedazzling your sight even more was a golden door handle that shone in the light of the setting sun. "Finally you slowpokes have arrive," Clara said with a light chuckle. "Shall we?" She then reached for the golden doorknob and pushed the doors open with a flourish, leading to a realm of unknown. You, Lucas and Clara stepped into the large dining room, the walls were covered in paintings of ancient kings, the chandelier above you glittered and sparkled. The centerpiece, however, was the long dining table that extended almost the entire length of the room. You counted eight chairs along it, each adorned with a different colored cloth to differentiate between seating arrangements. You saw King Richard seated at one end of the table – so majestic and regal that you were entranced by his presence. He was much older than the portrait you had seen previously, his hair still has some color to it but you seem there are locks of grey and wrinkles had formed on his face; but he still held a certain air around him that could not be ignored. Lucas gracefully bowed down, his deep-blue eyes gazing onto the ground with reverence to acknowledge royalty. He gulped before speaking up, "Your Majesty, we have arrived." A welcoming smile grew on Richard's face as he gestured for Lucas and Clara to sit. With a hint of nervousness, Lucas took the grand wooden chair to the left and Clara seated herself on the right. The room fell silent as all eyes were now focused on you. You could feel your heart racing. Where should you seat yourself? [[I sit near to Lucas]] [[I sit near to Clara]]

These days just kept getting worse and worse, with each passing moment the tension rose. You could feel your heart beating faster as Lucas's blue eyes hardened like steel, watching you with a cold detachment that was almost unbearable. Meanwhile, Clara's amber eyes burned even brighter, her pleading stares jolting through your system like lightning. "Choose me!" they seemed to scream in desperation. With a deep breath, you smiled at them knowingly and declared confidently, "No comment!" “Don't be like that <<print $player_name>>!” Clara pouted and stamped her foot on the marble floor with a loud echo reverberating through the hall. Lucas burst into laughter. "Nothing is much more terrifying than a grumpy Clara." Lucas mimicked her in an over exaggerating tone, only further adding fuel to the fire. C'mon now don't be shy," Clara pleaded, her expression showing desperation as she begged for your compliance. "We promise that will not be mad." You chuckled at her desperation and shook your head vigorously, an amused smile playing on your lips. "No can do! Your Highness!" you said cheerfully. "Pwetty Plesh!" Clara whimpered in a childlike voice, her soft tones enveloping the room in a comforting soundscape and her wide eyes seemingly doubling in size as they shone brightly at you - puppy eyes so pure and innocent you couldn't help but gush. "No score!" you replied firmly and continued to taunt Clara as his pleas became more persistent. "Fine!" she muttered under her breath in disbelief, throwing an accusatory glare your way. "You like Lucas, no fun!" She scrunched up her face into a mock frown and pulled out her tongue playfully at you. Lucas chuckled and shook his head, looking at the two of you before turning around and continuing to lead the way. "Come we have waited the King long enough!" You followed him quietly, amazed by the grandeur of your surroundings. The castle was a thing of beauty - the walls were made out of white marble that shone brightly in the sunlight, while intricate carvings adorned them with a hint of antiquity. Candlelit chandeliers hung from the ceiling, illuminating every corner with its pleasant glow. Paintings depicting landscapes and portraits decorated each corner, eliciting a sense of awe and wonderment in you as you admired their fine craftsmanship. You gazed with wonderment upon the towering gates that lay before you. Intricate designs bordered each side of the gateway, bedazzling your sight even more was a golden door handle that shone in the light of the setting sun. "Finally we have arrive," Lucas said in a calm manner. "Shall we?" He then reached for the golden doorknob and pushed the doors open with a flourish, leading to a realm of unknown. You, Lucas and Clara stepped into the large dining room, the walls were covered in paintings of ancient kings, the chandelier above you glittered and sparkled. The centerpiece, however, was the long dining table that extended almost the entire length of the room. You counted eight chairs along it, each adorned with a different colored cloth to differentiate between seating arrangements. You saw King Richard seated at one end of the table – so majestic and regal that you were entranced by his presence. He was much older than the portrait you had seen previously, his hair still has some color to it but you seem there are locks of grey and wrinkles had formed on his face; but he still held a certain air around him that could not be ignored. Clara walked closer to the king, her deep-amber eyes gazing onto King Richard. She gave her father a peck on the check. "Father I'm sorry we took so long." A welcoming smile grew on Richard's face. "No worries my sweet!" kissing the cheek of his daughter in return, then he gestured for Lucas and Clara to sit. With a hint of nervousness, Lucas took the grand wooden chair to the left and Clara seated herself on the right. The room fell silent as all eyes were now focused on you. You could feel your heart racing. Where should you seat yourself? [[I sit near to Lucas]] [[I sit near to Clara]]

You walked up to Lucas's side and grasped the chair, feeling the wooden surface prickle your skin. "Nice of you to join me." Lucas said coolly, his eyes staring to you calmly. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest as he regarded you with a smug smirk. You cleared your throat, regaining composure. "What can I say? I couldn't bear to leave such a breathtaking view," you retorted, lifting your chin defiantly. No matter how hard he tried to intimidate you, you would not back down. The smirk on Lucas' face widened, as if he found amusement in your boldness. "Well, still going strong aren't you?" he replied, his eyes glinting with mischief. You took your seat beside him, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the way he seemed to be taken aback by your fearless attitude. The tension between you and Lucas was palpable, but you refused to let him get the upper hand. Richard's booming voice shook the walls. "<<print $player_name>>!" they rang out with a sense of urgency, as if expecting a response. You felt your heart skip a beat, and when you saw Richard sitting and watching you--his face filled with child-like excitement--you knew immediately why he had called your name. "It's finally time to meet you," he said calmly, yet beneath his composed exterior, there was an unmistakable tinge of excitement in his voice. His eyes sparkled, like he had been waiting for this moment all his life. You felt a twinge of anxiety as you realized the enormity of the situation. This was it. The moment that would define your future. You swallowed hard and tried to steady your racing heart as you met Richard's gaze. "It's an honor to finally meet you, Your Majesty," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. Richard smiled warmly at you, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you. "The honor is mine, my dear," he said, his voice laced with kindness. "I have been hearing so much about you from the reports of Garett and Lee. They say you are a remarkable person. A true gem." You felt your cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and pride. "Thank you, Your Majesty," you said, bowing your head slightly. Richard chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Please, call me Richard. None of this formalities here. We are all family, after all." A sudden wave of perplexity engulfed you as he offered his permission to call him by his first name. You quickly rectified your error,"Thank you your Majes- Richard!" You stuttered,your face feeling flushed and hot with embarrassment. He gave a half smirk at your attempt,with approval in his eyes. "See,much better." He mused before turning towards the door,expressing an unspoken command. It opened immediately to reveal two servants bustling in with plates of food cupped in their hands. They placed each plate before everyone present in the room and backed out without awaiting a reply. Richard nodded approvingly once again before shifting his attention back on you,his voice full of authority as he declared,"So,how have you found Tiara so far?" His piercing gaze never wavering from yours. You cleared your throat before answering, trying to collect your thoughts. "Tiara is... unlike anything I've ever experienced before," you admitted, your eyes darting around the room before settling back on Richard's curious face. "It's a world full of wonders and mystery, and I feel like I've only scratched the surface." Richard chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement at your words. "That's the beauty of it, my dear," he replied, taking a sip from his goblet. "There's always something new to discover, something new to experience. That's what makes it so special." Lucas takes a small sip from his goblet, his eyes suddenly turning serious. "But without dangers to it, you know what they say: Curiosity killed the cat." Clara laughs out loud in response, her voice echoing through the room. "Leave it to Lucas to bring the mood down." Richard defended Lucas' stance. “Nonesense! Lucas wants the best for the Kingdom in his heart.” As the day progressed, the conversation flowed freely, with Richard regaling you with stories of his escapades in Tiara and Clara recounting her own adventures. You found yourself hanging on their every word, feeling more and more captivated by their world with each passing moment. The food was exquisite, the flavors bursting in your mouth with every bite. The wine flowed freely, and the atmosphere in the room was filled with a sense of camaraderie and warmth. You felt like you had found a home away from home, and the thought filled you with a sense of joy and contentment. Richard rose from his seat, gesturing for you all to stand. "I want to propose a toast," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "To new beginnings, to new adventures, and to new friendships. May we all continue to explore the wonders of Tiara together, and may we never forget the bond that we share." You heartily lifted your goblet in salute, and as one, everyone gulped down the wine. "Now that's taken care of," Richard said as he dabbed his lips with a white napkin. "Sadly, my wife is still trying to reach a consensus with Pegasus, our neighbouring Kingdom." His voice suddenly became wistful. "Father, don't fret," Clara said, her voice loud and clear. "Mother can take care of herself. Besides, she's a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield!" She let out a burp before adding with a smirk on her face, "Pardon me. I don't want <<print $player_name>> thinking I'm some sort of pig or something." Richard scowled at his daughter. "Clara! Manners!" He chastised her. "I apologise for my daughter's lack of decorum." Clara simply shrugged and winked at you. Your heart raced as the King addressed you, allowing you space to act more freely. You gave a devilish smile towards Clara and replied in a tender yet confident tone, "No worries, Richard? I think it adds to her charm." Lucas chuckled, dabbing his lips with a napkin. "Father why don't Lucas take <<print $player_name>> for a tour through the gardens?" she asked, her voice thick with anticipation. Lucas coughed, clutching the napkin tightly in his hands as if to restrain himself from speaking his mind. Before he could object, Richard spoke up. "A marvelous idea," he exclaimed. "Especially since the flowers will be in full bloom this season." His eyes shone with enthusiasm and he beamed with delight. Lucas shot you a look of annoyance, but he didn't object. "As you wish, Your Majesty," he said, rising from his seat. You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement at the prospect of exploring the lush gardens of Tiara. "Thank you, Your Majesty," you said, bowing your head in gratitude. Richard smiled warmly at you. "Enjoy yourselves," he said, before turning his attention to Clara and continuing their conversation. As you followed Lucas out of the room, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within you. You had heard so much about the beautiful gardens of Tiara, and you couldn't wait to see them for yourself. The gardens were indeed a sight to behold. Rows upon rows of flowers in every color imaginable stretched out before you, and the scent of blooming flowers filled the air. The sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow over the gardens and casting long shadows across the manicured lawns. "You know," Lucas said suddenly, his voice soft and low. "I wasn't sure about you at first. But I have to admit, you're a lot braver than I thought." You smiled at the unexpected compliment, feeling a sense of pride swell up inside of you. "Thank you, Lucas," you said, feeling emboldened by his words. "I just want to make the most of my time here in Tiara." Lucas nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning the garden as if he was searching for something. "I understand that," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "But sometimes, it's best to be cautious in these lands. There are dangers lurking in every corner." You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, but you didn't want to let fear consume you. "I understand," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "But I don't want to let fear dictate my actions. I want to explore Tiara and all its wonders, even if it means taking a few risks." Lucas turned to face you, his expression inscrutable. "I admire your spirit , <<print $player_name>>," he said finally, his voice low and husky. "You remind me of someone I used to know. Someone who was brave and fearless, even in the face of danger." You felt your heart race at the intensity of his gaze. "Who was that?" you asked, genuinely curious. Lucas hesitated for a moment before answering. "She was... someone special to me," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "But she's gone now. Lost to the cruelty of fate and man." You felt a pang of sympathy for Lucas, sensing the deep pain in his voice. "I'm sorry for your loss," you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm in comfort. Lucas turned to face you, his eyes locking onto yours. "You know, <<print$player_name>>," he said, his voice low and seductive. "There's something about you that reminds me of her." AYou both halted in your steps, your eyes meeting his cobalt blues. Silence descended upon the two of you, the atmosphere crackling with an overflowing tension. His lips parted as though to say something but he shut them again, taking a sharp intake of breath. "Sadly, I can only move forward," Lucas muttered finally and started striding away from you again. Anger bubbled inside of you and spilled out like hot lava erupting from a volcano. "Why are you distancing yourself from me?!" You yelled, the words reverberating back at you through the trees and rooftops. Lucas stopped abruptly in his tracks and spun around to face you. His features were etched with sorrow, giving him a forlorn look. "I fear that whatever happened to her might happen to you too," he said in a low voice as the wind picked up, combing through his obsidian hair. "I can take care of myself!" You declared fiercely, spreading your arms wide apart to emphasise your point. Lucas gave a sad chuckle and shook his head slowly. The noise sent shivers down your spine. "You sound just like her," he said sorrowfully, turning his gaze to the horizon where clouds had begun to roll in and covering the sun. "She said the exact same words before she died in my arms." His voice was tinged with sadness as if he were reliving that moment all over again. You felt a lump form in your throat as you took in his words. The weight of his grief was palpable, and you felt a sense of deep sadness wash over you. "I'm sorry," you said softly, feeling powerless to offer him any comfort. "I didn't know." Lucas shook his head, his eyes scanning the horizon once again. "It's not your fault," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I don't want to see anyone else get hurt because of me." You took a step closer to him, feeling a sudden urge to comfort him. "You don't have to bear this burden alone, Lucas," you said, your voice filled with empathy. "We're all in this together. And I'm here for you, if you need me." Lucas' gaze, so deep and strong, seemed to penetrate all the way into your soul. His lips quivered as he spoke. "Thank you, <<print $player_name>>," his voice shook with a tenderness you could feel through an invisible thread connecting your two hearts. He then took a step back, creating a wide gap of emptiness between the two of you. Severing the link entirely. "I did promise the King I'd give you a tour, let us go now!" He said, not wanting to delve further into this topic. "Stop this,"you shouted fervently, your voice vibrating through the air. "You've suffered long enough; you've protected people long enough." Your voice rose higher and higher as each word tumbled out of your mouth like thunder rolling down a mountain peak. "Let us protect you for a change!" Lucas suddenly stopped in his tracks yet again, not facing you. His voice trembled as it left his lips; vulnerability was beginning to overtake him. "I'm called a Royal Protector for a reason, <<print $player_name>>," he started softly,"and I will die doing my duty. I'm tired of watching people die under my watch and being powerless to do anything." A pause followed by a quieter statement that seemed more desperate than before,"Follow close behind if you still want that tour and we will not talk of this no longer." His words dwindled off into nothingness, letting his weariness be heard. You felt your heart shatter as the words left his lips. The intensity of the burden he carried was overwhelming and you couldn't begin to comprehend what it must be like for him to wake up every day knowing he had to face such a monumental task alone. So, you stepped forward determined to show him that whatever this thing was he wasn't facing it by himself. "Lucas," you breathed softly, placing your hand lightly on his arm. "Let us help you. All of us want to, but you don't have to do this alone." His striking blue eyes met yours, seeming to read your thoughts and intentions. "I thank you for your offer <<print $player_name>>," His voice was low and husky, barely above a whisper. "But this is something I am destined to face alone." A wave of emotion swelled inside you, frustration and sadness vying for dominance. You tried desperately not to let it show in your expression or in your voice as you replied. "I understand, Lucas," You said calmly. "But companionship can ease some of the burden" You plead with him earnestly, wanting desperately for him to accept your help. Lucas pointed at a bloom of flowers beside him and began explaining them in detail diverting the conversation away from his troubles. [[Continue|Varus' POV]]

The alluring glimmer emanating from Clara's smile was like a bright lighthouse in the stormy midnight, beckoning you to come closer. You felt an unseen force pulling you towards her and your feet unconsciously followed the command. As you cautiously moved up to the chair, you could feel the oaken wood beneath your skin, almost as if it were trying to give you a warning. You disregarded its call and took the seat next to Clara, looking deep into her captivating eyes. She smirked and gave you a gentle nod, her warm gaze radiating fondness towards you. "Wise choice!", she said with knowing inflection, filling the room with an electrifying atmosphere. Richard's booming voice shook the walls. "<<print $player_name>>!" they rang out with a sense of urgency, as if expecting a response. You felt your heart skip a beat, and when you saw Richard sitting and watching you--his face filled with child-like excitement--you knew immediately why he had called your name. "It's finally time to meet you," he said calmly, yet beneath his composed exterior, there was an unmistakable tinge of excitement in his voice. His eyes sparkled, like he had been waiting for this moment all his life. You felt a twinge of anxiety as you realized the enormity of the situation. This was it. The moment that would define your future. You swallowed hard and tried to steady your racing heart as you met Richard's gaze. "It's an honor to finally meet you, Your Majesty," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. Richard smiled warmly at you, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you. "The honor is mine, my dear," he said, his voice laced with kindness. "I have been hearing so much about you from the reports of Garett and Lee. They say you are a remarkable person. A true gem." You felt your cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and pride. "Thank you, Your Majesty," you said, bowing your head slightly. Richard chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Please, call me Richard. None of this formalities here. We are all family, after all." A sudden wave of perplexity engulfed you as he offered his permission to call him by his first name. You quickly rectified your error,"Thank you your Majes- Richard!" You stuttered,your face feeling flushed and hot with embarrassment. He gave a half smirk at your attempt,with approval in his eyes. "See,much better." He mused before turning towards the door,expressing an unspoken command. It opened immediately to reveal two servants bustling in with plates of food cupped in their hands. They placed each plate before everyone present in the room and backed out without awaiting a reply. Richard nodded approvingly once again before shifting his attention back on you,his voice full of authority as he declared,"So,how have you found Tiara so far?" His piercing gaze never wavering from yours. You cleared your throat before answering, trying to collect your thoughts. "Tiara is... unlike anything I've ever experienced before," you admitted, your eyes darting around the room before settling back on Richard's curious face. "It's a world full of wonders and mystery, and I feel like I've only scratched the surface." Richard chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement at your words. "That's the beauty of it, my dear," he replied, taking a sip from his goblet. "There's always something new to discover, something new to experience. That's what makes it so special." Clara leaned towards you, her eyes shining with excitement. "And there's so much we could show you," she added, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. "So many adventures to be had, so many secrets to uncover." You felt a thrill run through your body at her words, the idea of exploring Tiara with Clara filling you with an inexplicable imagination to brew in your mind so to speak. As the day progressed, the conversation flowed freely, with Richard regaling you with stories of his escapades in Tiara and Clara recounting her own adventures. You found yourself hanging on their every word, feeling more and more captivated by their world with each passing moment. The food was exquisite, the flavors bursting in your mouth with every bite. The wine flowed freely, and the atmosphere in the room was filled with a sense of camaraderie and warmth. You felt like you had found a home away from home, and the thought filled you with a sense of joy and contentment. Richard rose from his seat, gesturing for you all to stand. "I want to propose a toast," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "To new beginnings, to new adventures, and to new friendships. May we all continue to explore the wonders of Tiara together, and may we never forget the bond that we share." You heartily lifted your goblet in salute, and as one, everyone gulped down the wine. "Now that's taken care of," Richard said as he dabbed his lips with a white napkin. "Sadly, my wife is still trying to reach a consensus with Pegasus, our neighbouring Kingdom." His voice suddenly became wistful. "Father, don't fret," Clara said, her voice loud and clear. "Mother can take care of herself. Besides, she's a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield!" She let out a burp before adding with a smirk on her face, "Pardon me. I don't want <<print $player_name>> thinking I'm some sort of pig or something." Richard scowled at his daughter. "Clara! Manners!" He chastised her. "I apologise for my daughter's lack of decorum." Clara simply shrugged and winked at you. Your heart raced as the King addressed you with his first name, allowing you space to act more freely. You gave a devilish smile towards Clara and replied in a tender yet confident tone, "No worries, Richard? I think it adds to her charm." A small smirk graced his lips as he stared at the two of you before saying, "Is that so? Well if you're charmed by her why don't I suggest that you and Clara take a walk in the gardens? Especially since the flowers will be in bloom this season." You excitedly accepted his offer before replying quickly and confidently,"Gladly!" Everything seemed like such a dream; you walking hand in hand through the bountiful gardens of the King's estate along with beautiful Clara. It was almost too perfect. Clara wrapped her hand around yours, tugging you into the fragrant garden. You took a deep breath, inhaling the light scent of the blooming flowers. The whispery sound of leaves rustling in the wind soothed your mind and brought a sense of peace to your soul. Clara's fingers intertwined with yours as she looked at you, her eyes twinkling with joy. "I'm glad we're here together," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. You smiled back at her, feeling an inexplicable warmth spreading through your chest. "Me too," you replied, pressing your hand against hers tightly. The two of you strolled through the garden's maze paths before eventually coming across a secluded corner, where nobody else could see or hear you. Clara released your hand and stepped closer towards you, her eyes filled with mischief. "You know, <<print $player_name>>," she said slowly, stepping even closer towards you until their bodies were pressed against each other. "There's something I've been wanting to do ever since I met you." Your heart raced as she leaned forward gently tiptoeing to bring her lips inches away from yours. She glanced at you with that same mischievous glint in her eye as if daring you to take the initiative. Your heart pounded as her body pressed tightly against yours, tantalizingly close. You held your breath, trying not to succumb to the moment and blurting out something that could lead to a misunderstanding. Her hand went to your lips, gently caressing each one. Her voice husky and soft, she whispered, "I want to savor you-taste you like a fine wine." "Then what's stopping you?" you asked, struggling to keep the wildness of your desire in check. "Time," she replied softly and stepped away from you, leaving you hungry for more of her touch. You were baffled by her answer until she spoke again. "This should be aged like a fine wine - I wouldn't have it any other way." You chuckled at Clara's resistance and teased, "Now you're just delaying the inevitable!" Clara giggled along with you and stated, her eyes twinkling with mischief, "What can I say? I love to play hard to get." Then she graciously took your arm and held it tightly, leaning in close as if to whisper something secret into your ear. She continued, her voice husky and intense, like a fevered dream. "Now let's explore these gardens before we get too distracted by our passion." And with that, she began guiding you through the lush foliage of the gardens, a luscious paradise of exotic aromas and vibrant colors. [[Continue|Varus' POV]]

''//(Varus' POV)//'' The sight of what was once the place that held all your cherished memories, now brought along a familiar stab of sadness. You took in the sight, still as majestic as it ever was; the towering gates and beautiful columns carved with intricate detailing, the large courtyard and outdoor fountain surrounded by rose bushes and vibrant flowers. All these sights had never failed to take away your breath but this time, there was something missing. Unable to look any longer, you hung your head low and closed your eyes. That's when you heard it - a faint sound of laughter coming from somewhere near. You looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of little Claire skipping in delight among the roses around the fountain as Cassandra watched over with nothing but adoration in her gaze. It felt like someone had ripped out your heart then replaced into another one made completely out of glass; fragile yet strong enough for you to feel every bit of pain that came with holding onto it. stood there, tears streaming down your face as you watched what would have been the perfect family portrait. The pain was so visceral that it threatened to consume you completely, not even Claire's innocent chuckle or Cassandra's ever-loving gaze could take away the sting of it. You clenched your fist and looked away, unable to bear the sight any longer. Although you had already accepted the reality, in that moment you could truly feel how much you had lost - in a way that seemed almost too cruel. You felt Claire's tiny hand slip into yours and looking down, saw her smiling up at you with an understanding beyond her years. She held onto your hand tight as if she knew exactly what was going on in your heart without having to say a single word. And for one brief moment, everything felt alright again- just like old times. Claire wrapped her arms around you in a tight embrace and spoke softly, "Father, are you alright?" A wave of anguish washed over you as you remembered the precious moments that you and your wife had shared together before she was gone. You tightened your hold on Claire and sighed. "Yes," you said in a low tone. "But I miss what we used to do with your mother." Tears welled up in Claire's eyes and her body shook with each sob. She hugged you tighter, both of you engulfed in sorrowful memories from the past. The embrace came to a close, and Claire slowly stepped away. She glanced back at her father with concern, the fatigue easily visible under her eyes. "Father, I'm going to take a nap," she said with a yawn. "It's probably best that you do the same." He smiled and gave her forehead a loving kiss. "I'm just gonna reminisce here for a moment," he replied, strolling towards the fountain, the spot where his wife would love to spend time together and share stories of grand adventures. Claire left without another word, leaving Varus alone in the empty plaza. He took a seat on one of the benches, gazing out into the sky as if searching for answers to some unseen question. "I accept your offer." A familiar voice echoed in his mind - it was the same voice he had heard before. "Excellent! You should continue spending your time here with Claire, Varus," it said happily before vanishing again. His eyes were fixated on the fountain, the place where he had shared so many memories with his wife, the place where he had proposed to her, the place where he had promised to love and cherish her forever. In that moment, he felt a wave of regret wash over him. He missed his wife terribly, and would give anything to have her back. "Soon my love...soon." he whispers. [[Continue|End Of Demo]]

Hey I hope you like the drama and angst but sadly that will be the end for this Chapter. Don't fret you will be seeing your characters back again at Chapter 3: High School Prom all over again. Here's a teaser to keep you gueesing. //"A ball?" you gasp. "Why yes!" Richard says obviously. "I want to celebrate the proposal of Garett to Lee." "Thank you, your majesty." Lee's bows his head. "But for now let's have a banquet, I'm still need to meet two guest of mine." at his words the door opened with two figures standing at the front. "Miss me, little mouse?" Variel smirks. "Heya MC!" Lucas waves happily in the air. The two looked different and they have new clothing to boost.// And as promised another session with N. [[Continue|N]]

N's eyes lit up as soon as he saw you enter his humble abode. He rushed over to you and welcomed you with open arms, gesturing for you to sit down on the plush sofa. "I'm so delighted that you've come back - I've been waiting to tell you this story," N said joyfully. His hands began to make grandiose gestures in excitement as he continued, "Let me take you back to long ago, before Lucas was written into the songs of the gods..." He paused dramatically, eyes sparkling with anticipation as he looked around the room, making sure everyone was ready for the exciting tale that was about to unfold. "Long ago, Lucas had been a fearless warrior and protector of the kingdom. He was known far and wide for his courage in battle and his commitment to justice. No matter how dire the situation or dangerous the enemy, Lucas would never back down - he would always stand firm and fight with honor. His reputation began to spread rapidly, so much so that some feared him even more than they feared the gods themselves! But with such power came a dangerous side; Lucas had no qualms about using violence when necessary, often leaving dead bodies in his wake as he fought for what he believed was right. He thought nothing of torturing bandits or criminals who crossed his path - it was just a way of ensuring that justice was served. One particularly gruesome incident stands out from all the others: Lucas had been tracking down a notorious bandit who had managed to elude capture for weeks. When he finally caught up with him, he proceeded to interrogate him in the most brutal of ways. Tales of Lucas's cruelty began to spread, and soon enough there were rumors that he drank the blood of his enemies and even ate their hearts! Such tales only made Lucas more feared, but also more respected. He had become a legend in his own lifetime - a figure who could inspire both terror and admiration in equal measure. But then something changed. Suddenly, Lucas seemed to become unhinged, and his actions became even more unpredictable and violent. His reputation for justice had been replaced by a reputation for brutality and bloodshed. Wherever Lucas went, people would flee in terror. He would massacre innocent civilians and leave a trail of dead bodies behind him. He seemed to take pleasure in the bloodshed, and he reveled in his newfound power. Everyone who came across him was filled with dread, for no one knew what he might do next. Lucas's life felt cursed, darkness and pain had become synonymous with his existence, until one fateful night when the stars aligned in a way that gave him a glimmer of hope. He found love again in Nora, and for once he felt like life was worth living and that it could be more than his past had shown. An unexpected figure stepped out of the shadows to challenge Lucas, their intentions unclear to anyone who witnessed the scene unfold. He cocked an eyebrow in query, but they said nothing – who was he to decline someone’s last request? The clash between Lucas and his foe was unlike anything he had ever encountered before. Swords clashed against one another as they fought fiercely, slicing through the air with a force unparalleled. The intensity was palpable and all seemed lost as every parry resulted in nothing but utter destruction. With each twist and turn of their duel, Lucas' anger seemed to grow as he felt his life slipping away in front of him. He pushed himself even further, unleashing the full force of his rage upon his opponent, finally wounding them fatally with one swift motion – he had decapitated them! Lucas unmasked his foe only to find that it was Nora who had been fighting him. In an instant, all of the memories and feelings they had shared came flooding back. But before he could react or process what had happened, she was gone; her life extinguished by his hands. Lucas felt numbness and despair unlike anything he'd ever experienced before as he realized what have done. He wanted to scream out in anguish and sorrow but no words could escape from his lips; instead all that escaped were tears streaming down from his eyes. Lucas never recovered from the shock and horror of that night - a night which changed him forever. Lucas was devastated when he found out that his beloved Nora had been spellbound by malicious forces, her free will and life ripped away from her. In a moment of passionate fury, Lucas vowed to hunt down the evildoers responsible for this cruel act and make them pay for their trespasses." A"The end!" N closes the book in their hands. "That's it!" you exclaim. "What happened?" you ask hoping to get to the end of this story. "Secret! Also thanks again for reading." N waves their hand in farewell. [[Continue|Chapter 3]]

''//Chapter 3: High School Prom All Over Again//'' As the both of you walked the gardens, time passed by as if it were standing still. Even though the vibrant tulips and colourful flowers sought to divert your focus, you could not help but glance ever so often at their face - captivated by the beauty you beheld there. The sun shone just right, illuminating their features in stunning clarity. The gentle breeze teased wisps from their hair, adding a gentle movement to this magical picture before you. @@#Hello; ''//"<<link "Lucas">><<replace "#Hello">> Lucas tried to stay composed, his voice steady and emotionless. His eyes determinedly avoiding yours, he kept a stern focus on the task at hand - almost as though you weren't there. You felt your heart ache as he tried to remain impartial; you had created him from the depths of your soul and yet here he was, trying so hard to ignore your presence. Your pain was intensified when glimpses of a lingering glance on your face would slip through, only for Lucas to immediately lower his gaze and commence lecturing about some flower that occupied the garden. This wasn't just another character in a book that you written but a fragment of yourself, and it felt like your own heart being ripped apart with each feigned indifference. Your heart ached with the weight of the silence between you, suffocating in its unbearable emptiness. You turned to him, desperate to break through the wall he had erected. But before you could speak, he interrupted you. "I know what you're thinking," his voice was low and steady, impenetrable as a fortress. "And my answer remains unyielding." The sting of his words hit you like a whipcrack. Though you knew how obstinate Lucas could be, it didn't make it hurt any less. Your voice trembled as you tried to convey your feelings. "I understand that," you said quietly. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to know you better." Lucas sighed, his gaze darting up to meet yours before quickly flitting away. "I know," he murmured. The tension between you was palpable - an agonizing dance of desire, denial, and pain. The space between you felt like miles, impossible to cross. Finally, Lucas broke the silence again. "But it's better if we stay apart," he said softly. Your chest constricted with agony at his words - the finality of them crushing your hopes and dreams underfoot like so much dust. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you struggled to find the right words to say. "You have no idea what I am capable of, Lucas," you hiss through gritted teeth. Lucas chuckled, his eyes darkening with intensity. "Then I suppose it's up to me to keep you in check," he replies solemnly. You open your mouth to respond, but before you can get a word out, Lucas cuts you off with a sharp gesture. "Let us depart from this place!" he murmurs, guiding you firmly back towards the looming castle. "The longer we tarry here, the more fraught the atmosphere becomes." You follow him silently, feeling the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you. As you walk, you can't help but feel a sense of emptiness, like something crucial has been lost that can never be regained. The two of you finally reach the castle, and Lucas leads you inside, his movements stiff and formal. You can feel his resolve hardening even further, and it's as though he's erecting an invisible wall with double the thickness and height between you. You can't take it anymore. You stop in your tracks and turn to face him, your eyes blazing with emotion. "Lucas, please," you beg. "Can't we at least try to work through this, be friends at least?" Lucas' expression softens for the briefest of moments before growing cold once again. "I'm sorry, <<print $player_name>>," he says softly. "But I can't risk" Risk what?" you ask, confusion evident in your voice. Lucas takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I just can't and those reasons are my own," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't let myself get distracted from my duty. The consequences could be disastrous." You stare at him in shock, unsure of what to say. You had never thought that his duty was more important than his feelings. "Lucas," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I understand that you have a duty, but you can't just shut out people who cares about you. Lucas looks at you, his eyes softening slightly. "Thank you!" he says and turning his back on you and opening the door to the dining room. [[Continue|Lee]] <</replace>><</link>>"//'' "''//<<link "Clara">><<replace "#Hello">> Clara spoke in a sweet voice as she tried to explain the different flowers in the garden, but her words trailed off into nothingness as her gaze shifted away from the blooms and to your face. Her delicate finger still pointed towards a potted tulip, but you only saw nervousness in her eyes. "That's a pot," You offered kindly, wanting to ease the awkward tension that now hung between the two of you. Clara snapped her head back to where she was pointing and then let out a lovely laugh. "Oh dear!" A relieved smile graced her lips and suddenly the garden filled with vibrant colours and delightful scents, as if it had been filled with life for centuries. The two of you continued to explore the gardens, and Clara's excitement was infectious. You found yourself laughing at her jokes, marveling at the beauty of the flowers, and feeling a deep sense of peace in her company. As the sun began rise to its peak, you found yourselves standing in front of a small pond, the water reflecting the blue sky and birds flying overhead. Clara turned to face you, her eyes shining in the light. "Thank you for coming with me," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. You smiled at her, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest. "Thank you for showing me the gardens," you replied, your voice equally as soft. She took a step closer towards you, her eyes never leaving yours. "<<print$player_name>>, I have to ask you something. And I want you to be completely honest with me." Your heart thundered in your rib cage as you waited for her to continue speaking. "How did you do it?" she asked, her gaze gleaming with curiosity. "How I managed to capture your heart?" you say flirtatiously and chuckle deeply at the joke. "Cute!" she says with a laugh, her lips turning into a slight smirk. "I mean how did you tame the dragon?" Clara ask, her eyebrow arching in anticipation of your answer. "It wasn't easy," you reply, "She tried to kill us first, but Garett used his words and one thing led to another and soon enough we had a dragon travelling with us." You explained the story briefly, your voice picking up in excitement as you recounted the tale. "Interesting! So the dragon is a she huh?" Clara's eyes spark up in interest. You flash her an arrogant smirk and raise your brow, "Worried?” "A little," She replies coolly, taking on a more serious tone than before. "I want to make a good impression on her". You stagger back dramatically and clutch your chest with mock anguish and surprise. “Oh it hurts!” You cry out jokingly, trying not to burst out laughing at yourself. Clara can't help but laugh at your theatrics and gives you a knowing smile. “What's wrong?” She asks with concern laced in her voice. You groan dramatically and shake your head side to side, "You will exchange me with her! The pain is too much!" With that, you attempt to keep a straight face and fail miserably as laughter bubbles from within you. Clara laughed louder this time and shook her head amusedly. “I haven't caught a glimpse of the face of the stranger in my dreams yet, and maybe the dragon is the one." She muses aloud, intently studying your face while smirking mischievously at you. "Kill me now!" you groan jokingly, squeezing your chest dramatically. "Nah! I want you to suffer." Clara continues to laugh, playfully poking your arm. You shake your head at her playfulness, but deep down, you enjoy this side of her. It's like she's letting her guard down, letting you see the real her. As you both continue to walk through the gardens, Clara's hand still intertwined with yours, you can't help but wonder what's next for the two of you. You hope it's something grand, something that will last forever. But for now, you're content with just being in this moment, with Clara by your side, exploring the beauty of the world around you. “Let’s go back now,” Clara said while suppressing a yawn. “Trying to run away from me again?” you asked, adding a playful undertone to your words. She tilted her chin up in mock indignation and grinned. “You know me too well.” Then she gave you a gentle shove with the back of her hand. “The last one to the castle is a rotten egg!” she whooped before taking off into a sprint. You couldn’t help but laugh as you followed after her determined figure, racing towards an unknown destiny. [[Continue|Lee]] <</replace>><</link>>"//'' @@

''//(Note: I'm sure you're having fun or sorrow? In pursuing the two but let's take a break from them and see what's happening on Lee's side. Afterall how can we forget Lucian and Variel?)//'' ''//(Lee's POV)//'' You trudged through the blazing heat of Tiara, feeling as though you would melt into nothingness. The sun had reached its peak and was burning down on you with a relentless fury. You wiped away the sweat dripping off your forehead as you looked around in desperation for shade. "Look Lee!" Lucian shouted excitedly, pointing ahead. "Carriages!" he said in awe, his voice filled with wonderment. You rolled your eyes and scoffed at him. "You already ridden one," you croaked out, your throat dry and parched. "That's a cart not a carriage!" Lucian had the nerve to correct you even in such trying times. Still, he could not take away from the grandeur of the beautiful carriages that were rolling along in front of them, their majestic presence calming your war-weary heart. “HA! You are easily impressed by such things, Human!" Variel scoffs, accompanied by a condescending sneer. "I bet you have never ridden a griffen!" "Have you?" Lucian asks with all the naivety of a child, unaware of the danger that lurks around him. "Oh too many to count, Human!," retorts Variel with a smug arrogance, as they continued their banter. Your palms dampen as you regret agreeing to be the one watching over these two misfits. Thank the gods that Variel hasn't yet burned anything or devoured anyone...Yet. Lucian still acting mature enough for now and in your sight, suddenly an eerie silence filters in and you look to where you last saw them; but to your horror,they were gone! Panic sets in as you frantically look around for any sign of them. Variel's scales and Lucian's bright brown hair would have made them stand out easily, but they were nowhere in sight. You shout their names, your voice hoarse and strained, hoping they would hear you and come back. But as the minutes tick by, you realize that you were alone. The carriages that were once so majestic now seem sinister, as if they held a secret that you weren't privy to. You start walking in the direction you last saw them, hoping that they had just wandered off and were waiting for you somewhere. The alleys of Tiara were dark and narrow, and you couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched. You hurried your pace, your heart pounding in your chest. Suddenly, you hear a scream, and it sounded like Lucian's. You run faster, your mind racing with fear. You couldn't believe your eyes as you watched Variel's magic unfold before you. The children couldn't contain their excitement, clapping and cheering as they marveled at the griffen. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for Variel, despite her often arrogant and condescending demeanor. But your happiness was short-lived, as Variel suddenly turned to face you with a dangerous glint in her eyes. "What are you doing here, Human?" she sneered, her fangs glistening in the sunlight. "You should be grateful I haven't eaten you yet." You take a step back, fear flooding your veins. Variel's sudden shift in demeanor caught you off guard. "I-I was just looking for you and Lucian," you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady. Variel snorted, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "So serious Human?," she spat, before turning her attention back to the children. "Look she got cute sharp fangs." one of the girl giggles. You heave a sigh of relief as Variel turns away from you, her attention once again on the children. You take a step back, trying to blend in with the crowd, but your eyes are still fixed on Variel. Despite her terrifying nature, you couldn't deny the fact that she was a skilled magician. As you watch her interact with the children, a strange feeling stirs within you. It wasn't fear, nor was it admiration. It was something else, something you couldn't quite put your finger on. Suddenly, Variel turns to face you, her eyes locking onto yours. Variel stalks towards you, her movements lithe and predatory. "You look like you could use a drink, Human," she says, her voice low and dangerous. "Come with me." The children waved their goodbyes to Lucian, their bright neon faces flushed with excitement. "Bye!" Lucian sang in his cheerful voice, as the kids giggles and skipped away. You turned to Variel and saw an unfamiliar expression of kindness and gentleness on her face that you had never seen before. "Variel, it seems like you're kind around kids," You commented and she shook her head slowly. "Children are different from humans," She said calmly but with a tinge of sadness in her voice. "But children are humans," Lucian interjected but was met with a loud sigh from Variel. Her patience seemed to be wearing thin as she spoke with a rising anger in her voice. "Let me put it this way, Children are innocent creatures left untouched by the evils or vile nature of humans." She spat out the last word with contempt and hatred. You couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at Variel's sudden change in mood. Her words were harsh, but there was a hint of truth in them. Children were innocent, and the world had a way of corrupting them. "Let's go, Human," Variel said, her tone icy and cold. "I'll get you that drink I promised." You followed her through the narrow alleyways of Tiara, your eyes darting around nervously. You had heard stories of people disappearing in these dark alleys, never to be seen again. But you couldn't turn back now, not when Variel was leading the way. As you walked, Variel's gaze never left your face, her sharp eyes scanning your features as if searching for something. You couldn't shake off the feeling of being hunted. Finally, Variel stopped in front of a rundown tavern, its walls covered in grime and filth. Lucian looked around, his eyes filled with uncertainty. "Do you think this is the place?" he asked, his voice quavering with doubt. Variel shrugged nonchalantly, her gaze wandering to the deserted streets outside. You glared at them both, incredulous that they could be so careless as to follow the directions of a complete stranger without even confirming his identity. "Can you give me a name? A description perhaps?" you demanded, your tone sharp and unforgiving. Lucian hesitated for a moment before replying. "Rick," he muttered under his breath. "The one who saved us from those bandits earlier." Your hands balled into fists as you fought back anger. How could they be so naive and reckless? Nevertheless, you pushed forward, determined to get to the bottom of things. "Let's go," you commanded gruffly. But as you began to make your way towards back to the streets, Variel remained rooted in place, her arms crossed resolutely. "No," she stated firmly. You turned to face her, your lips curling into a snarl as your patience wore thin. "If you're going to stay here and put yourself in danger, that's on you. Lucian, let's move out." But Lucian didn't budge, looking embarrassed and ashamed all at once. "I'm sorry Lee," he mumbled apologetically. "Variel threatened to burn me to ashes if I left without her." “This Human surely has quite a power over you if his name alone can rouse such a fire within you!” Variel crooned with delight, her eyes sparkling in amusement as she studied your every reaction. You forced down the urge to look at her, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing how much his name affected you. She smiled knowingly, undeterred by your silence. “The way you become defensive of Lily tells me that you two had some sort of past!” Her voice was laced with victory, and this time when you looked up there was an unmistakable determination in your gaze. “Do you think you can handle your own, or shall I do this myself?” Variel sneered. “I won’t be leaving here without having a chat with these two humans.” You raised your hand. “Wait! I insist that I take the lead here. I do not want anything untoward happening to either of us In this place - it is unwise to underestimate its dangers.” Variel chuckled darkly, her voice dripping with malice. “No objections Human – but if I deem it necessary; I will not hesitate to eviscerate or burn them into ashes…” She smiled devilishly at the thought of it. Your stomach gave an uneasy lurch, it was no laughing matter for sure. It had only been her first day on Tiara, yet she already wanted someone dead. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. You didn't know what kind of people Rick and his companions were, but you were determined to find out. With a nod of agreement, you led the way, Variel following you closely behind. The tavern was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of cheap alcohol and smoke. You made your way through the throngs of people, your eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of Rick. As you made your way deeper into the tavern, you felt Variel's hand on your arm, her grip firm and unyielding. "There," she hissed, pointing to a group of men huddled together in the corner of the room. You approached them cautiously, your heart pounding in your chest. "Excuse me," you began, your voice shaking slightly. "Are any of you Rick?" The men looked up at you, their eyes cold and calculating. You could sense their hostility, and you knew you had to tread carefully if you didn't want things to turn ugly. "What's it to you?" one of them growled, his voice rough and gruff. "We just want to talk to him!" you grit your teeth and try not to lose it. "Well he ain't!" the man spits on your face and laughs, his cohorts joining in with guffaws. Something within you broke, losing all self control. You lunged at the man, gripping his clothes and slamming him onto the ground. His friends stood up, reaching for their weapons, but Variel had already conjured fire around her hands and they stepped back immediately. "Don't interfere!" she warned them harshly. You loosened your grip slightly and addressed the man with a forced politeness. "Look my day has been terrible, please direct my party and I to him." A booming voice called out,"Lee don't beat up my men!" Ricks presence made itself known as he entered their midst. You gave another slap to the man before releasing him entirely. "That's for spitting at me!" you snarled contemptuously. "You guys have finally arrived!" Rick clapped his hands together exuberantly. Turning towards the others in the tavern, he commanded,"Boys these 3 are guests of mine and Lily." Loud affirmations echoed across the room as everyone acknowledged his words. Rick continued commandingly,"Greg close this place for a while; we will be having a conversation for quite some time." The bartender immediately began to obey without fail, his loyalty evident in every action taken. He then gestured for you all to take a seat as he sat himself down. "Lily is out buying food but sit here and let us chat." The rest of the people in the tavern backed away slightly, watching you vigilantly as they kept a respectful distance from Rick. You took a seat across from Rick, eyeing him warily. He seemed friendly enough, with an easy smile and a welcoming demeanor. But you knew better than to trust anyone in Tiara and not to mention the way he attacks is the way of a coward. “So, I apologize for my men's behavior” Rick said, pouring drinks for all of you. You accepted the glass of ale he offered and nodded your head in acknowledgement. “I forgive them, they're just looking out for you - but try to teach them some manners!” you spoke with irritation in your voice. “Don't worry its next on my to-do list.”Rick gulped down his ale and swiftly refilled his cup. A sly smile crept on your face as you remarked, “You decided to visit Tiara afterall.” “It was all Lily's doing - she wouldn't let me miss the ball!” Rick laughed out loud. Your eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. “A ball? What ball?” you asked with curiosity. Before Rick could respond, Variel slammed her hand onto the table, instantly making the men around you stand up agitatedly. "Get to the point Human!" she snarls Raising one hand, Rick quickly made them sit back down again with a wave of his hands before turning towards you with a raised eyebrow and an amused grin,"Your friend sure has a temper." Lucian chortled at that and added, "You should see her fire magic." "I like this one!" Rick pointed a finger at Lucian playfully before turning serious again as he eyed the shot glass in his hands. "My spies heard the King planning to hold a ball in the castle; the reason being that he wanted to celebrate the marriage of two individuals” he explained nonchalantly. Taking a sip of ale, you spat it out immediately upon hearing what he had just said. Coughing and sputtering, you exclaimed “Excuse me?” as splashes of ale hit Rick's face, drenching him completely in liquid gold. Chuckling at the sight, Lucian commented “Looks like Clara finally got her match!” Rick rolled his eyes amusedly before correcting him,"This is not for Princess Clara instead this is for you and Garrett." - he said cooly as Variel's fingers started becoming long and elongated while scratching the surface of the table menacingly. Instantly alarmed Rick cursed, “Alright! Sheesh! Stop damaging the property here!" "Your dragon's friend lack of enthusiasm is really a buzzkill," Rick whined, his voice dripping with disappointment. "But hey, congrats Lee!" With one swift motion, he raised a glass in your honor. Shock and confusion washed over you as you struggled to comprehend what was happening. "Getting engaged? What are you talking about?" Your words came out barely audible, as if a huge weight had been dropped on your chest. "Garett hasn't even proposed yet!" you exclaimed, trying desperately to make sense of the situation. Lucian chimed in, trying to calm your nerves. "Maybe Garett is planning something special for the ball." He smiled reassuringly at you. Variel's attention was focused solely on her nails, lost in thought as they returned to their normal size. "I agree, that would be incredibly romantic." The room was silent as you tried to process the news, your mind racing with questions and thoughts of what could come next. The possibilities were endless and overwhelming. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you let out a deep breath and looked up at your friends. "I don't know what to say," you whispered. Lucian reached for you and squeezed your shoulder gently. "You don't have to say anything right now," he said softly. "Just know that we'll always be here for you." And with those words, a wave of warmth flooded over you. You knew that with these people by your side, you have the endless support you need. "Man up Human, its just a ball!" Variel sneers. Correction! You have the support you need with this people except for Variel. You cleared your throat and channelled your focus back to task at hand. "Getting back onto the topic," you began, trying to keep a level head. You leaned forward, taking in the group before you. Who were these men? "What exactly is it that brings you guys together?" Rick smiled in return, leaning back against his chair as if basking in their unity. He cast a quick glance across them all before grinning deviously and asking again: “Boys, what are we?” The room erupted with unbridled joy as they shouted one word in unison — freedom fighters! There was a palpable sense of pride surging through the room which only further built upon Rick's confidence. He repeated his words — this time more as a demand than a question — and banged his fist on the table fervently; “Who we are?” Emotions boiling over into excitement, they yelled the mantra that had become their rallying cry - The Ghost Of The Past! An elated Rick lifted up an icy cold glass of beer to his lips and drank. Your eyes widened as you repeated these words in your mind, testing how it felt on your tongue. You couldn't help but chuckle slightly as you said them aloud for the first time. "Ghost Of The Past" - it was certainly quite long for a name. Rick's voice turns somber, with a hint of steel. "It has good reasons," he says with a hint of a chuckle that barely escapes his lips. His gaze sweeps across the room to the men, and suddenly you feel like one among them. "You see these men have something in common that unites them—you and me are not different from them as well." Rick's words seem to echo through the silent room. He pauses before continuing, his eyes sad yet determined. "These men lost something they held dear in their hearts —child, parent, friend, sweetheart." The pain is palpable in his voice as he continues with conviction. "So is the job of the Ghost Of The Past to exact vengeance and justice to the oppressors of the weak!" His shout echoes off the walls with a passion. Your brow furrowed as you uttered the question, skeptically trying to make sense of Rick's claims. "How can you be sure that the people you dispose of are oppressors to begin with?" You saw his chest swell slightly with pride, and a grim determination hardened his features. He stared silently for a few moments before finally answering, his voice ringing with conviction. "My heart is in the right place and I know that every person we have taken down was an oppressor in some form or another. We have just been the vessels of justice." Lucian's voice boomed across the room, cutting through the mumbled conversations. "Look, that is good and all yet I agree with Lee here! Do you have any evidence of the people you call oppressors? Something to verify that they are indeed evil-doers?" All eyes in the room shifted towards Lucian as a heavy silence descended. His words lingered in the air, thick with tension and anticipation. Variel cackled, her malicious plan unfolding before her. "Who would've thought that little bumbling Human had the courage to speak out of turn!" she jeered. Ray slowly reclined in his seat, pouring a shot of fire-water down his throat. He stared around at the group, taking in the tension as if it were a calm summer day. "I understand your doubts," he began calmly. "So before we take action against this oppressor, we must conduct surveillance first to ensure that our target is genuine." He downed the liquor in one gulp and allowed his words to linger in the air like fog; the meaning dripping from every syllable. "If our investigations are positive, we'll offer them a warning to change their ways," he continued, his voice gaining intensity with every word. "But if not..." His sentence remained unfinished - the silence spoke volumes. An abrupt banging on the door made everyone jump in shock. "Check and dispose, Greg!" Rick hollered out in authoritative command. Greg advanced close to the door, his hand lie perilously above his weapon with readiness. "Who is it?" he nervously questioned. "The thing of the past is a fate we can't escape," came a muffled voice from the otherside of the door. The man nodded his head at everyone, and their taut body's began to relax in relief. "That must be Lily," Rick said exuberantly with joy. Greg heaved the hefty groceries into the house as he opened the door for Lily. "Thanks, Greg," she breathed out in exhaustion, her voice weak from the weight of all the bags. Before she could take another step, Rick runs towards heer, his arms wide open and a loving gleam in his eye. His sandy blonde hair was tousled and his scruffy face made him look wild yet inviting. As soon as their eyes met, he surged forward with unbridled energy and placed a chaste kiss on Lily's forehead. The sight made you clench your fists in disgust as you were supposed to be the one giving her a warm embrace and kisses, not Rick! You were supposed to be the one spinning her in the air madly in love, not him! "Someone's feeling... jealous!" Variel spoke up, her chin propped under her hand as she studied you with those red eyes that seemed to pierce through to your very soul. You felt a wave of nausea wash over you. "Leave him be, Variel!" came a sharp rebuke from Lucian, his tone stern and intimidating. Lily's eyes widened as she spotted you, mouth slightly agape. She quickly yelled out your name before Rick had a chance to finish his introduction. "Lee!" Rick's face dissolved into shock and disappointment, his words falling away on his tongue as Lily pivoted her attention towards Variel and Lucian. "You invited them and told them about the ball!" Lily said indignantly, her gaze softening as she looked at them. Rick could only gulp in response before he finally managed an explanation. "Surprise?," he stammered weakly. "Oh Rick! How will Garett react when he finds out that your careless chattering ruined his moment!" Lily slammed her palm on her forehead in dismay. Rick glanced over his shoulder. "Guys please! A little help here!" He forced out a feeble chortle. "Best of luck to you, boss!" One of the men guffawed at Rick's predicament, while the others burst into laughter too. "Lee," He turned to you, desperation swimming in his eye as he implored you for help. But all you could do was smirk and silently shake your head at him. "Lucian, I can always count on you right? Pleaseeee." Rick shifted his attention to Lucian in an attempt to plead with him further but received only a hearty chuckle in response. "Variel…" Before he could finish speaking, Variel snapped her fingers with a click, leaving Rick yelping in surprise. "You people are mean; this is why I made the team for bullies like you." Despite himself, Rick let out a rueful laugh. Lily shook her head in exasperation at the group, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Well, I suppose we'll just have to make the best of it," she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Rick's face lit up with joy at her words, and he quickly pulled her into a tight embrace. "You're the best, Lily," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. Lily's gaze was fiery with rage, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She bellowed through the hug towards Rick, "I haven't forgiven you yet, so get your backside in that kitchen and start chopping!" Rick slowly put down Lily, his body tense and rigid. He gazed at her with fear and trepidation before standing to attention, saluting her and shouting, "YES MAM!" His voice echoed through the hug, each syllable filled with more dread than the last. Lily's lips curled up in a satisfied smile as she watched Rick march off to the kitchen. She then ambled to where he had been seated before, pulling out the chair and settling onto it gracefully. A few moments later, a man emerged, carrying a pitcher of orange juice and a clean glass on a tray. He bowed slightly as he set it down and uttered a polite yet reserved, "Orange juice mam!" "Thank you," Lily murmured sweetly as the man left without uttering another word, leaving an ever-thickening tension in their presence. You coughed, your raspy voice struggling to fill the room. "Lily, I haven't had the chance to apologize -" Lily abruptly raised her hand, signaling you to be silent. She gracefully reached over to the orange pitcher of juice. Looking back at you and Lucian, she offered it to him as she spoke, "Want some?" He nodded eagerly in return. Lily smiled warmly and filled two large glasses and sliding it into Lucian. "I forgive you!" You were taken aback by her sudden forgiveness, your mind racing with questions. "But how can you forgive me so easily?" you asked, confusion lacing your voice. Lily's eyes glinted playfully as she shrugged off the past. "Life is too precious to waste it on grudges, Lee," she quipped, taking another sip of her juice. She leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs with an air of nonchalance that could not conceal the quiet torment lurking within. "If only things had gone differently between us, we would still be together," Lily sighed mournfully. You stammered and floundered like a fish out of water. Lily let out a deep, soothing breath and touched your hand with a gentle caress. "Lee, I know everything about what happened from Garett's letter. Losing your mother, being forced into unspeakable acts against your will-- I can't even begin to imagine what you went through." The mention of your mother sent a shiver down your spine. You collapsed inwardly, defeated by the weight of everything that had transpired between you both. The admission that you lacked the necessary courage to end things between you and Lily face-to-face hung heavy in the stagnant air. "It's alright, Lee," she reassured you with a smile that spoke volumes of forgiveness and understanding. But Variel, ever the cynic, cut through the warmth of the moment like an ice pick. "This is getting sappy for my taste," she scoffed, her voice dripping with condescension. "She forgave you ages ago! Move on already!" In that moment, Lily's eyes met yours once more— bright with life and brimming with love like they once did all those years ago when summer was endless and time was infinite. "I know what you're going to say Lee," she said softly before taking another sip of her orange juice. "And I forgive you." Lucian's eyes brimmed with tears as he choked out a soft sob. "I think I'm gonna cry!" He sniffled pitifully. Variel shot him an appalled glare, her face contorted in disbelief. She motioned wildly with her hands before finally landing a swift slap on Lucian’s cheek, the shock of it making his head snap back. "Hey that hurts!" He cried out, tenderly touching the reddening mark on his skin. “GET A GRIP HUMAN!” She roared with a ferocity that sent chills up your spine. Lily's voice cut through the tension like a refreshing gust of wind. “So Lee! Do you have any plans for the ball?” She asked, her fingers drumming against the smooth round wooden table in time to some unheard tune. "Truthfully I don't!" you sighed, feeling overwhelmed by it all. "It's so sudden!" Lily shot out of her chair like lightning and proclaimed, “Well then what ARE we doing here? Greg can you please go fetch Rick and tell him that we're going shopping?” Greg nodded his head in agreement. Before anyone had time to react there was an ear-splitting shriek that pierced the air - Lucian calling your name. "Lee! Hel- Hel-" You hastily twisted around and saw Variel's vice-like grip around Lucian's neck as she threatened him with a deadly glare. “You're so soft and it's getting on my nerves, Human!” Her words were filled with contempt as she jabbed her finger into Lucian's chest, shaking him like a ragdoll. Lily's gaze sharpened and her features hardened as she placed her eyes upon the chaotic scene before her. She seemed to swell with power; a tangible energy that beaded around her and cooled the air. "Variel, let him go!" she commanded, her voice like a whip, without fear or hesitation. Variel sneered and tightened her grip around Lucian's throat even more, making him gasp for breath. Her laugh was cold and derisive. "You remind me of a little mouse!" She chided Lily bitingly, eyeing her from head to toe with disdain. Mayhap you should think twice before challenging me again, lest I break your neck like one would an eggshell," she hissed menacingly. Lucian staggered backwards, rubbing his throat desperately as he tried to fill his lungs with oxygen. He shot Lily a grateful smile, still massaging his bruised neck awkwardly with one hand. "It's all good," he croaked hoarsely. Lily heaved a shaky sigh, shaking her head in disbelief. "You're scary and mean, you know that!" Though Lily stood tall and proud, there was a tremble in her voice that could not be ignored. Variel rose to her full height like an inferno blazing through the night sky—a powerful and imposing figure who commanded attention from all those who were near. A chuckle escaped from between her lips as she declared smugly: "That is something I am well aware of! Nevertheless, don't forget it when addressing me again." [[Continue|Lee2]]

The man roared, “MAM!” in rage, as he unsheathed his sword and his comrades followed suit, prepared to do battle for their commander. Variel snickered, her eyes gleaming with anticipation of the massacre that was about to commence. But then, an authoritative voice cut through the tension like a blade cutting through butter. "Halt!" Lily commanded. She stepped forward and addressed the confused men: "It's alright. Even if Variel wanted to, she could slay us all without even lifting a finger." The men looked upon one another perplexed, until they finally submitted to the will of the woman before them. Variel reveled in their confusion and fear, taunting them with an eerie sneer and saying, “Good humans! Now let’s proceed with this shopping trip!” Rick's eyes lit up in excitement as he walked out of the room with an apron tied around his waist. "Shopping?" Rick exclaimed, his voice full of zeal. Lily rolled her eyes, though a smirk hung on her lips. She kept a watchful eye on Variel, who was still terrorizing the men inside the tavern. "Come with us," Lily said with a hint of dry humor in her voice. A bright grin spread across Rick's face and he quickly untied the apron from his waist. "Greg take watch," he commanded. The young man saluted without hesitation. Variel's booming voice echoed through the tavern walls before they even made it to the door, "Can you Humans hurry up already!" Lily groaned in annoyance before starting out into the streets of the plaza with Rick, you, Lucian and Variel following close behind. The sun was setting, casting golden hues across the buildings and streets. The hustle and bustle of the marketplace was alive and well as the group made their way through the crowded stalls. Lily led the group to the clothing section, where a variety of fabrics and designs were on display. Variel scoffed at the array of clothing, her distaste written all over her face. Rick, on the other hand, was practically drooling at the sight of it all. "Wow, this is amazing! I never knew shopping could be so much fun!" he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling. Lily chuckled, shaking her head slightly. "You're such a kid, Rick," she teased. After browsing through the racks, Lily picked out a gorgeous, white suit with intricate beading and embroidery. "This will look perfect on you," she told you with a smile. You blushed, feeling self-conscious. "Are you sure?" you asked, feeling like you didn't deserve such a nice gift. Variel snorted, rolling her eyes. "Just take it already, Human. It's not like you have anything else to wear," she said, her words dripping with sarcasm. Lucian elbowed Variel in the side, shooting her a warning look. "Variel, be nice," he scolded. Variel glared at Lucian, but didn't say anything else. Lily nodded her approval at Lucian before turning back to you. "Don't worry about it," she said reassuringly. "It's my treat." You thanked her gratefully, feeling touched by her generosity. The group continued on with their shopping trip, picking out outfits and accessories for the upcoming ball. Despite Variel's constant complaints and Lucian's occasional mishaps, the day was filled with laughter and light-heartedness that you had not felt in a long time. As the burning orange sun descended beneath the horizon, the group continued on their journey. "It's time for Variel and Lucian to have a whole new look!", Lily announced with determination in her voice. You looked at your two companions - Variel was still wearing the dress that Garett had given her when she was desperately needing something to cover her up, you couldn't recall how exactly she managed to stitch the intricate pattern of paint onto it. Lucian on the other hand was wearing a very dirty white robe, "Are you some kind of priest?" Rick asked him curiously. Lucian shook his head. "No, no - it's just a fashion statement from where I come from," he said confidently. Lily gave Variel a once over, her eyes narrowing in scrutiny. "We'll need to find something that fits your… unique style," she said, her voice laced with amusement. Variel scowled at Lily, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't need your help," she said haughtily. Lily shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "Suit yourself," she said before walking off towards a nearby store. You followed, eager to see what Lily was up to. She led them inside a shop full of luxurious fabrics and intricate designs. The walls were lined with mannequins that were modeling an array of dresses, skirts, and gowns. Lily immediately went to the back corner of the store, where a collection of corsets were displayed on a velvet cushion. She ran her fingers over the fabric lovingly, before picking one up and holding it in front of Variel. "This one," she said confidently. "It will look perfect on you." Variel rolled her eyes but took it anyways and began unbuttoning her dress slowly as Lily held the corset for her. You watched as Variel stepped into it, admiring its grandeur, sophistication and epic quality as the sapphire blue colour complimented Variel's feminine dragon features such as her scales perfectly. When she had finished putting it on, Lily helped Variel lace up the corset tightly, accentuating her curves and making her look more feminine. The dragoness looked at herself in the mirror, surprised at how good she looked. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, before she quickly wiped it away and put her usual scowl back on. "Ugh, I guess it looks decent on me," Variel grudgingly admitted. Lily beamed with pride, happy that she was able to help Variel find something that she liked. "I knew it would look good on you," she said, patting Variel on the back. Rick and Lucian were busy trying on different outfits, twirling around and laughing as they modeled for the group. "Next Lucian, we need to find you something that will make you look like a noble gentlemen." Lily steps back and studies the face and features of Lucian. Lucian nods, eager to try on something new. Lily browses through the racks, picking out a deep green velvet suit with gold buttons and a matching silk cravat. "This will look perfect on you," she says, holding the outfit up for Lucian to see. Lucian's eyes widen in excitement as he takes the suit from Lily. He quickly changes into it, admiring himself in the mirror as he adjusts his cravat. The outfit fits him perfectly, making him look regal and sophisticated. The group steps out of the store, admiring each other's new outfits. Variel walks with a newfound confidence, the corset accentuating her femininity and making her feel beautiful. Lucian stands tall and proud in his new suit, his posture improved by the tailored fit. Even Rick looks more put together in his new outfit, a simple yet stylish tunic and trousers. As they continue walking through the marketplace, the group attracts attention from passersby. [[Continue|MC]]

You and your tour guide raced through the lush gardens, your hearts beating in beat with each other. As you looked upwards to the sky, the sun was starting to set, its rays illuminating the garden’s flowers with a soft hue of yellow and orange. You wished that the day would never end. You felt as if you were in a dream as you walked side by side with this person beside you. @@#Hello; ''//"<<link "Lucas">><<replace "#Hello">> Lucas was a man of his word, faithfully staying true to the promise he had made and keeping the necessary distance between you two. Everytime you would be bold enough to take a step ahead, he would harshly retreat away from you. When your eyes met, he would turn away in an attempt to evade any romantic ideas that could form. You could feel him subtly drifting away every time you were walking beside him; like a ghostly wind, his presence would shiver away as if he meant nothing to you. It seemed like a battle of wills between the two of you, and neither wanted to surrender. As the two of you continued your leisurely pace, enjoying the beauty of the garden, your heart grew heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. You knew that Lucas was right to keep his distance - it was the responsible and logical thing to do. But that didn't stop the ache in your chest every time you thought about him. It was like a constant reminder of what you couldn't have. But what hurt even more than the unrequited love was the fact that you were starting to feel resentment. Resentment towards Lucas for not feeling the same way, for not even giving you a chance. Resentment towards yourself for falling for someone who you knew was unattainable. It was a vicious cycle that left you feeling lost and confused. As the sun continued to set, casting long shadows across the garden, you felt a deep longing inside of you. Lucas' voice cut through the night air like a dagger as he announced, "We have arrived!" He shifted into high gear, leaving you in his dust as he sped towards the castle glass doors. When you finally reached the entrance, you paused for breath. Clara is lounging on a couch and was looking back at you with a smile on her face. She asked sweetly, "I hope you two enjoyed yourselves?" "It was satisfactory!"Lucas says. Suddenly, a chuckling sound echoed from your side. It was Garett, his hands clapping lightly together as if this was all just another jovial performance. "The two of you have finally returned splendid!" He declared, before motioning for Lucas to take off towards another room. "Lucas can you fetch the king from his nap and tell him that his guest and daughter have returned!" Garett asked with an almost gentle tone. Lucas nodded silently before heading out of sight, leaving Garett, Clara and yourself alone in the dining hall. Garett's mouth opened slowly to speak once more - "Now! I h-," he said before being cut off suddenly by the loud sound of doors opening across the room. Everyone's attention turned to greet the newcomers - Variel and Lucian standing in front of them; their faces illuminated by a single ray of light coming from outside. "<<print $player_name>>, I hope your stomach is empty because our three friends will be joining us for dinner" Without waiting for a reply, Garett stepped away to make room for everyone who had just arrived. Your stayed in your postion and eyes drifting to? [[Variel|New1]] [[Lucian|New2]] <</replace>><</link>>"//'' "''//<<link "Clara">><<replace "#Hello">> Clara was like no one else you had ever encountered. Her carefree and flirtatious nature made it almost impossible to keep her off your arm. No matter how tired you were, she would be the one sending encouraging whispers into your ears, inspiring words that seemed to magically rejuvenate your flagging strength. She was a whirlwind of energy, radiating positivity and good vibes in every direction. The two of you were walking through the gardens, when suddenly a competitive race broke out. Whoever reached the castle first would win and would receive an accolade that no one had earned before: being called a ‘rotten egg’ if Clara arrived there first. With this ripe reward spurring you on, you shifted into high gear, desperate to reach the castle before Clara. At first, Clara seemed to have the upper hand, her short and lean frame enabling her to move quickly through the garden. But then you remembered Variel - remembered that she could transform into a dragon and chase after you. You imagined Variel in all her terrifying draconic glory behind you, snapping his jaws and breathing fire. With renewed vigor, you surged ahead of Clara who was laughing and shouting at your back. All you saw was the castle beckoning invitingly in the distance and nothing else mattered except getting there first. You stepped into the grand castle, Clara trailing behind you. The air inside was heavy and warm, but it was the kind of warmth that made you feel at home. You could hear Lucas in the distance, speaking softly to himself as he filled a goblet with some liquid. "I hope you two enjoyed yourselves?" he said, looking up from the goblet and lingering for a moment before turning to set it down on the table. "Very much!" Clara replied, her voice echoing through the entrance hall. Suddenly, a chuckling sound echoed from your side. It was Garett, his hands clapping lightly together as if this was all just another jovial performance. "The two of you have finally returned splendid!" He declared, before motioning for Lucas to take off towards another room. "Lucas can you fetch the king from his nap and tell him that his guest and daughter have returned!" Garett asked with an almost gentle tone. Lucas nodded silently before heading out of sight, leaving Garett, Clara and yourself alone in the dining hall. Garett's mouth opened slowly to speak once more - "Now! I h-," he said before being cut off suddenly by the loud sound of doors opening across the room. Everyone's attention turned to greet the newcomers - Variel and Lucian standing in front of them; their faces illuminated by a single ray of light coming from outside. "<<print $player_name>>, I hope your stomach is empty because our three friends will be joining us for dinner" Without waiting for a reply, Garett stepped away to make room for everyone who had just arrived. You stayed in your place and eyes drifting to? [[Variel|New1]] [[Lucian|New2]] <</replace>><</link>>"//'' @@

As your gaze shifted to Variel, you were transfixed. Gone was the red dress that had become such a prominent part of her identity, replaced instead by a dreamy gown worthy of a royal ballroom. The intricate embroidery glistened with moonlight, and the soft fabric draped gracefully around her frame. Her beauty was unparalleled as she stood tall and proud in this new attire, almost as if she was daring anyone to challenge her. Her loose crimson hair has been tied into a bun. “ Miss me, little mouse?” she asked, her gaze pierced through your soul. With one swift motion, she unfurls the fan in front of her. As if it was a shield of protection, it covered half of her face, only letting her red eyes peek through and glow in the dim light. The undulating shadows casted by the flickering candles around you created an ominous atmosphere that sent shivers down your body. [[Miss you? I have been looking for you]] [[How about you, do you miss me]] [[Not really]]

Your gaze flickered over Lucian, noticing that the pristine white robe he had been wearing was replaced by an exquisite deep green velvet suit, twining around his muscular form like a protective shell. His fingers curled around a golden cane, a touch of whimsy to complete his regal look. His hair had been swept back, caramel strands glinting in the moonlight like a blazing fire. "Hey there Author-san," he greeted you with a broad smile on his face, still bashful and reticent when conversing with his favorite Author. "What do ya think about my new look?" He asked hesitantly, clearly hoping for your approval of his sly transformation. [[Perfection]] [[What have they done to you]] [[Good, enough]]

You crossed your arms and shook your head with disdain. "Miss you?" you snickered, throwing your head back in laughter. "I have been searching high and low for you!" You sternly said, tone hardening as you glared intensely at her. Your eyes spoke of anguish, despair, and a deep-seated longing that transcended the years. The air seemed to part around you as tension mounted, waiting for her answer. Variel's mocking laughter echoed through the chamber, her stare outrivaling yours. "I just disappred for a few hours and here you are being so overconfident." she sneered, her eyes blazing with contempt. "It seems I must teach you a lesson for your insolence!" Her calculated strides towards you were those of a wildcat ready to pounce on its prey, completely unafraid. You held your ground and allowed her to come nearer. An inexplicable feeling of thrill coursed through your veins as you heard her voice, not knowing why there was an underlying pleasure in getting hurt by her? It was a peculiar sensation that left you confused. As she got closer, she reached out with a gloved hand and grabbed your collar, pulling you in close until your noses almost touched. Her hot breath washed over your face, and your heart skipped a beat. "Teach me a lesson, then," you said, your voice low and husky. Without any warning, Variel grasped your collar tightly and effortlessly lifted you off the ground. You put all of your strength into trying to pry away her fingers from around your neck, yet her grip refused to budge. The air was thick with tension as moments passed, and you felt yourself lifting higher off the ground until you were teetering on your toes. "Should we intervene?" you heard Lucas call out in concern from behind. "That's normal!" Garett and Lucian answered in unison in a bored tone. At that moment, Clara stepped up and stood directly in front of Variel, not offering assistance to you whatsoever. "Hello, excuse me?" she asked in an awestruck voice. "So you must be the dragon?" Her words echoed against the walls of the chamber like rolling thunder. You kept your eyes locked onto Variel's gaze while holding back tears of fear, dreading what would happen next. Variel's grip tightened as she leaned in closer to you, her breath hot against your skin. "You should know better than to underestimate me," she hissed, her words slicing through the air like blades. "And You dare address me as a mere dragon?" Variel's voice boomed, shaking the very foundations of the chamber and filling it with an intimidating presence. "I am Variel, the dragon queen who commands over all skies! I wield the mightiest power in this land!" Variel had you suspended mid-air, your helplessness only serving to amuse her further. Clara's widened eyes and quivering lips betrayed the awe that filled her being, while she stood oblivious to your situation. "Hello! I think I need some help here!" You called out desperately. Clara waved her hand at you in disdain. "Yeah, yeah <<print $player_name>>. Can't you see I'm busy? Don't ruin this for me," she rebuked with a slight undertone of irritation in her voice. You could feel a searing pain starting to spread across your neck as Variel's grip tightened, cutting off your air supply. Panic set in as you struggled to free yourself. Just as you thought you were about to black out, Variel suddenly released you, dropping you unceremoniously to the ground. You gasped for air, clutching your throat, as you lay there writhing in pain. Variel's laughter rang out through the room as she stood over you, towering like a giant. "Consider that a lesson," she sneered, her eyes flashing with wicked amusement. You struggled to your feet, your breathing still ragged, your eyes blazing with fury. "You'll pay for that," you growled, your voice low and dangerous. Variel just smirked in response, her expression full of arrogant confidence. "Oh, will I now?" she taunted, her eyes glittering with malice. You took a step forward, your hands clenched yet Variel just raised a hand and with one gesture you freeze in your spot. "Woah! Can you hear me <<print $player_name>>?" Lucian asked and waving his hand in front of your eyes. Variel stood tall, then suddenly towering even more as if she had grown a few inches. She smiled as her eyes glimmered with recognition. "I presume you must be the princess who has a reputation for being a trickster," Variel said with musing curiosity. Clara blushed bashfully in response, realizing that no secret had been spared from the dragon's keen senses. "Oh gosh, a dragon hearing of my escapades," Clara whispered under her breath. Shifting her gaze downwards she asked, "You must be disappointed?" "On the contrary little fox," Variel chuckled. "This is the first time I've heard of such an unusually fascinating princess." Lucian was visibly flabbergasted. His mouth wide open and his eyebrows raised high, he asked in disbelief, "Wait is she complimenting? And did you just call her little fox while calling me a mere human!” Lucian shouted and pouted like a child. Variel turned her attention towards Lucian, her gaze piercing through him. "I call you a mere human because that is what you are!," she declared, a hint of amusement in her voice. "But Clara here is different. She has a certain spark to her that I find intriguing, she is what you say similar to the little mouse, mischievous and cunning." Lucian grumbled in response, clearly displeased with Variel's words. You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction if you can laugh, sadly you're frozen in place. Garett's throat cleared ominously and everyone turned towards him in anticipation, the suspense filling the atmosphere. "He has arrived!" Garett's thunderous voice shook the room as King Richard entered with a flourish, the sound of his regal cape sweeping across the ground echoing through the chamber. "My two other esteemed guest have finally graced us with their presence," Richard announced, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes as he surveyed his company. Variel put down her hand and you can moved once more. Lucian caught you and steadying you in your feet. "Damn I hate her!" you curse. As the King took his seat at the head of the table, a hush fell over the room. Everyone waited with bated breath for him to speak. "I trust that all of you had a pleasant journey?" the King asked, addressing his guests with a warm smile. Variel inclined her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "As pleasant as a journey can be when one is ambushed by lowly bandits," she said dryly. The King's expression darkened at her words. "Bandits?" he repeated, his eyes flickering towards Garett. Garett cleared his throat uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the room. "Yes, your majesty," he admitted, his voice low. "There have been reports of bandit activity in the surrounding areas. The King's brows furrowed as he glanced at Variel. "Are you all right?" he asked, concern etched on his face. Variel's eyes bore into the cutlery in front of her, the disappointment palpable and radiating through the air. Her voice was tight as she spoke, her words laden with warning. "You should ask the bandits that question," she hissed, her disdain evident to all who were listening. The King visibly paled at her words, and you could see the fear in his eyes. "We will deal with the bandits," he declared firmly, his voice resonating with authority. "I will not let them harm my guests or my people." The King clicked his fingers and as if choreographed, they stepped into the hall, bringing with them trays laden with steaming dishes. The tantalizing smell of roasted meats and savoury vegetables permeated the room. The King nodded his approval and settled back into his seat. His gaze drifted across the table before he spoke, "For now let's put aside the world's problems and enjoy this meal together." His voice was gentle, yet commanding. Every eye was fixated on him as he smiled contentedly. ''//(Note: Oh silly me! All this talk and I have forgotten to ask to which OC you sitted up with?)//'' [[You look to your side and see Lucas]] [[You look to your side and see Clara]] [[You look to your side and see Variel]] [[You look to your side and see Lucian]]

You dramatically shift your weight to one side of your leg, as you slowly look away from her trying to build suspense. You take a few moments before raising up your head and locking eyes with her. You smirk with a hint of arrogance, "How about you?" You pause for an extra effect as the silence hangs in the air. "Do you miss me?" You finally ask her intently, daring her to tell the truth. Variel's fan slowly closes with a soft click, revealing her full face. Her red eyes bore into yours as she steps closer, her gown flowing around her. "Miss you? No, little mouse," she says, her voice low and dangerous. "I have not missed you. But I do miss the pain that I have been inflicting on you." Her words send a thrill through your body, and you feel yourself drawn to her. She stands before you, the embodiment of beauty and danger, and you cannot resist her. You step closer, drawn to her flame like a moth. As she reaches out to touch your cheek, you feel a surge of desire run through you. You lean into her touch, yet Variel withdraw her hand at the last moment. “Still as pathetic as when I left you?” Variel throws back her head and laughs uproariously, her eyes glinting with contempt as he directed it at you. "I wish Beatrice was here instead of you!" you fire back with a mocking laugh. “Then she would probably agree with me!” Variel counters in a smug tone. Suddenly, Clara's voice breaks through the cacophony, her words dripping with awe. "So...you must be the dragon." Variel turns her attention to Clara, her expression softening slightly. "Yes, I am," she replies, her voice gentler than before. "But I am much more than that." Variel stood tall, then suddenly towering even more as if she had grown a few inches. She smiled as her eyes glimmered with recognition. "I presume you must be the princess who has a reputation for being a trickster," Variel said with musing curiosity. Clara blushed bashfully in response, realizing that no secret had been spared from the dragon's keen senses. "Oh gosh, a dragon hearing of my escapades," Clara whispered under her breath. Shifting her gaze downwards she asked, "You must be disappointed?" "On the contrary little fox." Variel chuckled. "This isthe first time I've heard of such an unusually fascinating princess." Lucian was visibly flabbergasted. His mouth wide open and his eyebrows raised high, he asked in disbelief, "Wait is she complimenting? And did you just call her little fox while calling me a mere human!” Lucian shouted and pouted like a child. Variel turned her attention towards Lucian, her gaze piercing through him. "I call you a mere human because that is what you are!" she declared, a hint of amusement in her voice. "But Clara here is different. She has a certain spark to her that I find intriguing, she is what you say similar to the little mouse, thye're mischievous and cunning." Lucian grumbled in response, clearly displeased with Variel's words. You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, finding it amusing how Variel had managed to ruffle his feathers. Garett's throat cleared ominously and everyone turned towards him in anticipation, the suspense filling the atmosphere. "He has arrived!" Garett's thunderous voice shook the room as King Richard entered with a flourish, the sound of his regal cape sweeping across the ground echoing through the chamber. "My two other esteemed guest have finally graced us with their presence," Richard announced, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes as he surveyed his company. As the King took his seat at the head of the table, a hush fell over the room. Everyone waited with bated breath for him to speak. "I trust that all of you had a pleasant journey?" the King asked, addressing his guests with a warm smile. Variel inclined her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "As pleasant as a journey can be when one is ambushed by lowly bandits," she said dryly. The King's expression darkened at her words. "Bandits?" he repeated, his eyes flickering towards Garett. Garett cleared his throat uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the room. "Yes, your majesty," he admitted, his voice low. "There have been reports of bandit activity in the surrounding areas. The King's brows furrowed as he glanced at Variel. "Are you all right?" he asked, concern etched on his face. Variel's eyes bore into the cutlery in front of her, the disappointment palpable and radiating through the air. Her voice was tight as she spoke, her words laden with warning. "You should ask the bandits that question," she hissed, her disdain evident to all who were listening. The King visibly paled at her words, and you could see the fear in his eyes. "We will deal with the bandits," he declared firmly, his voice resonating with authority. "I will not let them harm my guests or my people." The King clicked his fingers and as if choreographed, they stepped into the hall, bringing with them trays laden with steaming dishes. The tantalizing smell of roasted meats and savoury vegetables permeated the room. The King nodded his approval and settled back into his seat. His gaze drifted across the table before he spoke, "For now let's put aside the world's problems and enjoy this meal together." His voice was gentle, yet commanding. Every eye was fixated on him as he smiled contentedly. ''//(Note: Oh silly me! All this talk and I have forgotten to ask to which OC you sitted up with?)//'' [[You look to your side and see Lucas]] [[You look to your side and see Clara]] [[You look to your side and see Variel]] [[You look to your side and see Lucian]]

You remembered that GIF of a man saying the word, and you raised a finger to your lips with a smooch. "Perfection!" You grinned at Lucian, as his face lit up in an intense blush. He shamefully diverted his gaze from you, only to look down at his black polished shoes. His meek reply broke the awkward silence, "Arigatou gozaimasu, Auther-san." You couldn't help but chuckle at his cute nickname he had given you. You laughed, "Speaking anime now are we?" "So this is the one that my Father trained!" Lucas cut in. You turned to him and saw that he wasn't wearing his armor. Instead, he was wearing a regal attire fit for a general -- medals pinned across his chest like medals of honor. The fabric was white with intricate gold lines that adorned every hem of his clothes. His black hair was neatly combed and you could see him standing tall, proud and proper. Garrett stepped forward, his presence tall and commanding. His gaze fell upon on Lucian. "Now Lucas, don't scare the lad," he cautioned. His voice deep, yet gentle as he stood protectively beside his son. "He's already got an incredible warrior spirit inside him," Garrett reached out and patted his son fondly on the shoulder. "Just like you had at this age." He remembered watching Lucas when he first arrived - a feisty youngster with no training but an undeniable fire that consumed every inch of his being. Lucas took a step closer to Lucian and declared, “If my father’s words are anything to go by, you must be one masterful swordsman. Would you like to face me in a duel? I would love to test my skills against yours". Lucian’s face lit up and he happily clasped Lucas' hand in his own. His vigorous grip seemed to emphasize the gravity of the situation. “I would be more than pleased to oblige! I eagerly await when you make that challenge.” At Lucian’s response, Lucas could not help but smile with satisfaction as he nodded his head slowly. He gave Lucian's arm a tight squeeze before responding: “Fantastic!” Garett's throat cleared ominously and everyone turned towards him in anticipation, the suspense filling the atmosphere. "He has arrived!" Garett's thunderous voice shook the room as King Richard entered with a flourish, the sound of his regal cape sweeping across the ground echoing through the chamber. "My two other esteemed guest have finally graced us with their presence," Richard announced, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes as he surveyed his company. As the King took his seat at the head of the table, a hush fell over the room. Everyone waited with bated breath for him to speak. "I trust that all of you had a pleasant journey?" the King asked, addressing his guests with a warm smile. Variel inclined her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "As pleasant as a journey can be when one is ambushed by lowly bandits," she said dryly. The King's expression darkened at her words. "Bandits?" he repeated, his eyes flickering towards Garett. Garett cleared his throat uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the room. "Yes, your majesty," he admitted, his voice low. "There have been reports of bandit activity in the surrounding areas. The King's brows furrowed as he glanced at Variel. "Are you all right?" he asked, concern etched on his face. Variel's eyes bore into the cutlery in front of her, the disappointment palpable and radiating through the air. Her voice was tight as she spoke, her words laden with warning. "You should ask the bandits that question," she hissed, her disdain evident to all who were listening. The King visibly paled at her words, and you could see the fear in his eyes. "We will deal with the bandits," he declared firmly, his voice resonating with authority. "I will not let them harm my guests or my people." The King clicked his fingers and as if choreographed, they stepped into the hall, bringing with them trays laden with steaming dishes. The tantalizing smell of roasted meats and savoury vegetables permeated the room. The King nodded his approval and settled back into his seat. His gaze drifted across the table before he spoke, "For now let's put aside the world's problems and enjoy this meal together." His voice was gentle, yet commanding. Every eye was fixated on him as he smiled contentedly. ''//(Note: Oh silly me! All this talk and I have forgotten to ask to which OC you sitted up with?)//'' [[You look to your side and see Lucas]] [[You look to your side and see Clara]] [[You look to your side and see Variel]] [[You look to your side and see Lucian]]

You couldn't help but laugh, marveling at the transformation that had befallen Lucian. Mere moments ago, he had been an unremarkable young man donned in white robes, blending into the crowd with ease. But now he looked like a nobleman--the makeover had been nothing short of miraculous! As you scanned the room for Lucian's figure, you felt his eyes upon you. You slowly met his gaze. "Lucian?" you asked, voice laced with disbelief. "What have they done to you?!" you exclaimed. "It's still me!" he insisted, desperate to prove himself. But Varil would not have it; with a swift smack to the head, he scolded Lucian harshly: "By my reckoning, I have never encountered anyone so stupid in all my life!" Comprehension dawned on Lucian's face as he rubbed his sore head. He chuckled sheepishly. "Ohhhhh! Sorry," he apologized. "So this is the one that my Father trained!" Lucas cut in. You turned to him and saw that he wasn't wearing his armor. Instead, he was wearing a regal attire fit for a general -- medals pinned across his chest like medals of honor. The fabric was white with intricate gold lines that adorned every hem of his clothes. His black hair was neatly combed and you could see him standing tall, proud and proper. Garrett stepped forward, his presence tall and commanding. His gaze fell upon on Lucian. "Now Lucas, don't scare the lad," he cautioned. His voice deep, yet gentle as he stood protectively beside his son. "He's already got an incredible warrior spirit inside him," Garrett reached out and patted his son fondly on the shoulder. "Just like you had at this age." He remembered watching Lucas when he first arrived - a feisty youngster with no training but an undeniable fire that consumed every inch of his being. Lucas took a step closer to Lucian and declared, “If my father’s words are anything to go by, you must be one masterful swordsman. Would you like to face me in a duel? I would love to test my skills against yours". Lucian’s face lit up and he happily clasped Lucas' hand in his own. His vigorous grip seemed to emphasize the gravity of the situation. “I would be more than pleased to oblige! I eagerly await when you make that challenge.” At Lucian’s response, Lucas could not help but smile with satisfaction as he nodded his head slowly. He gave Lucian's arm a tight squeeze before responding: “Fantastic!” Garett's throat cleared ominously and everyone turned towards him in anticipation, the suspense filling the atmosphere. "He has arrived!" Garett's thunderous voice shook the room as King Richard entered with a flourish, the sound of his regal cape sweeping across the ground echoing through the chamber. "My two other esteemed guest have finally graced us with their presence," Richard announced, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes as he surveyed his company. As the King took his seat at the head of the table, a hush fell over the room. Everyone waited with bated breath for him to speak. "I trust that all of you had a pleasant journey?" the King asked, addressing his guests with a warm smile. Variel inclined her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "As pleasant as a journey can be when one is ambushed by lowly bandits," she said dryly. The King's expression darkened at her words. "Bandits?" he repeated, his eyes flickering towards Garett. Garett cleared his throat uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the room. "Yes, your majesty," he admitted, his voice low. "There have been reports of bandit activity in the surrounding areas. The King's brows furrowed as he glanced at Variel. "Are you all right?" he asked, concern etched on his face. Variel's eyes bore into the cutlery in front of her, the disappointment palpable and radiating through the air. Her voice was tight as she spoke, her words laden with warning. "You should ask the bandits that question," she hissed, her disdain evident to all who were listening. The King visibly paled at her words, and you could see the fear in his eyes. "We will deal with the bandits," he declared firmly, his voice resonating with authority. "I will not let them harm my guests or my people." The King clicked his fingers and as if choreographed, they stepped into the hall, bringing with them trays laden with steaming dishes. The tantalizing smell of roasted meats and savoury vegetables permeated the room. The King nodded his approval and settled back into his seat. His gaze drifted across the table before he spoke, "For now let's put aside the world's problems and enjoy this meal together." His voice was gentle, yet commanding. Every eye was fixated on him as he smiled contentedly. ''//(Note: Oh silly me! All this talk and I have forgotten to ask to which OC you sitted up with?)//'' [[You look to your side and see Lucas]] [[You look to your side and see Clara]] [[You look to your side and see Variel]] [[You look to your side and see Lucian]]

You gave a satisfied small smile as you nonchalantly declared, "Good enough!" Lucas looked at you with appreciation shining through his gentle gaze, no longer was he the passionate boy of yesteryear. His lips curved into a smile and he dipped his head in gratitude. "Thank you" he murmured with reverence. "So this is the one that my Father trained!" Lucas cut in. You turned to him and saw that he wasn't wearing his armor. Instead, he was wearing a regal attire fit for a general -- medals pinned across his chest like medals of honor. The fabric was white with intricate gold lines that adorned every hem of his clothes. His black hair was neatly combed and you could see him standing tall, proud and proper. Garrett stepped forward, his presence tall and commanding. His gaze fell upon on Lucian. "Now Lucas, don't scare the lad," he cautioned. His voice deep, yet gentle as he stood protectively beside his son. "He's already got an incredible warrior spirit inside him," Garrett reached out and patted his son fondly on the shoulder. "Just like you had at this age." He remembered watching Lucas when he first arrived - a feisty youngster with no training but an undeniable fire that consumed every inch of his being. Lucas took a step closer to Lucian and declared, “If my father’s words are anything to go by, you must be one masterful swordsman. Would you like to face me in a duel? I would love to test my skills against yours". Lucian’s face lit up and he happily clasped Lucas' hand in his own. His vigorous grip seemed to emphasize the gravity of the situation. “I would be more than pleased to oblige! I eagerly await when you make that challenge.” At Lucian’s response, Lucas could not help but smile with satisfaction as he nodded his head slowly. He gave Lucian's arm a tight squeeze before responding: “Fantastic!” Garett's throat cleared ominously and everyone turned towards him in anticipation, the suspense filling the atmosphere. "He has arrived!" Garett's thunderous voice shook the room as King Richard entered with a flourish, the sound of his regal cape sweeping across the ground echoing through the chamber. "My two other esteemed guest have finally graced us with their presence," Richard announced, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes as he surveyed his company. As the King took his seat at the head of the table, a hush fell over the room. Everyone waited with bated breath for him to speak. "I trust that all of you had a pleasant journey?" the King asked, addressing his guests with a warm smile. Variel inclined her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "As pleasant as a journey can be when one is ambushed by lowly bandits," she said dryly. The King's expression darkened at her words. "Bandits?" he repeated, his eyes flickering towards Garett. Garett cleared his throat uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the room. "Yes, your majesty," he admitted, his voice low. "There have been reports of bandit activity in the surrounding areas. The King's brows furrowed as he glanced at Variel. "Are you all right?" he asked, concern etched on his face. Variel's eyes bore into the cutlery in front of her, the disappointment palpable and radiating through the air. Her voice was tight as she spoke, her words laden with warning. "You should ask the bandits that question," she hissed, her disdain evident to all who were listening. The King visibly paled at her words, and you could see the fear in his eyes. "We will deal with the bandits," he declared firmly, his voice resonating with authority. "I will not let them harm my guests or my people." The King clicked his fingers and as if choreographed, they stepped into the hall, bringing with them trays laden with steaming dishes. The tantalizing smell of roasted meats and savoury vegetables permeated the room. The King nodded his approval and settled back into his seat. His gaze drifted across the table before he spoke, "For now let's put aside the world's problems and enjoy this meal together." His voice was gentle, yet commanding. Every eye was fixated on him as he smiled contentedly. ''//(Note: Oh silly me! All this talk and I have forgotten to ask to which OC you sitted up with?)//'' [[You look to your side and see Lucas]] [[You look to your side and see Clara]] [[You look to your side and see Variel]] [[You look to your side and see Lucian]]

You were foolish enough to think that Variel would have changed by not seeing you. But alas, her arrogance and pompousness had only grown stronger, evident by the shiny attire she was wearing. Her eyes glinted with hints of madness as she fanned herself with an air of superiority. "Not really!" you replied in a feeble attempt to deny her allegations. The room reverberated with her malicious laughter as she declaimed, "As I said before and I will say it again! You little mouse is a pathetic liar!" She raised a hand, the atmosphere thickened as the wind abruptly swirled around her. With a deft flick of her wrist, she gave you a stinging slap on your cheek. Tears welling up your eyes, you whimpered out, "Can you please stop with the bitch slaps!" you covered your face to protect yourself from further onslaught. Variel snickered, "Bitch slaps? How lowly of you to use such foul language." You gritted your teeth, feeling a surge of anger and frustration. You knew you couldn't take on Variel with your physical strength alone. You needed to come up with a plan to outsmart her. "Well, Variel, I may not have your strength, but I have something you don't," you said, a glimmer of hope in your eyes. Variel raised an eyebrow, intrigued, "Oh really? And what might that be?" "Intelligence," you replied confidently. "I may not be able to overpower you, but I can definitely outsmart you." Variel chuckled, "Bold words for someone in your position, little mouse. Nevertheless, I'm willing to humor you. What's your plan?" You took a deep breath, preparing to reveal your master plan. But before you can utter a word, Clara cut in sharply. "So you must be the dragon?" There was awe in her words as she spoke. Variel laughed heartily and swiped empty air with her hand. You felt another sharp sting on your other cheek as if invisible claws were scratching you. "Dragon? I assure you I'm not just a mere dragon!" Variel's voice was offended as she raised her hand again, ready to slap you once more. "Clara, stand in front of me!" You marched towards her, hastily seeking refuge behind the apparent safety of Clara's back in order to evade the sight of Variel's magic. "I'm Songixoninne, The Raging Inferno!" She declared triumphantly, then proceeded to painfully punch the air yet again. You fell down weakly to your knees, clutching your stomach as you gasped for air. "Should we help?" Lucas asked concernedly as Lucian and Garett continued their conversation without batting an eye, completely uninterested in what was happening around them. "That's normal!" they both say in unison. Variel walked closer to Clara with a sly smirk on her face. "I'm guessing you're the princess that I've been hearing some exciting accolades about." Clara gushed at Variel's words and didn't notice your plight. "Help!" You wheezed out between gasps for air yet she seemed entranced by Variel and merely waved her hand dismissively at you. "Yeah later <<print $player_name>>!" Clara blushed bashfully in response, realizing that no secret had been spared from the dragon's keen senses. "Oh gosh, a dragon hearing of my escapades," Clara whispered under her breath. Shifting her gaze downwards she asked, "You must be disappointed?" "On the contrary little fox," Variel chuckled. "This is the first time I've heard of such an unusually fascinating princess." Lucian was visibly flabbergasted. His mouth wide open and his eyebrows raised high, he asked in disbelief, "Wait is she complimenting? And did you just call her little fox while calling me a mere human!” Lucian shouted and pouted like a child. Variel turned her attention towards Lucian, her gaze piercing through him. "I call you a mere human because that is what you are!," she declared, a hint of amusement in her voice. "But Clara here is different. She has a certain spark to her that I find intriguing, she is what you say similar to the little mouse, mischievous and cunning." Lucian grumbled in response, clearly displeased with Variel's words. You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction if you weren't not coughing your insides out. Garett's throat cleared ominously and everyone turned towards him in anticipation, the suspense filling the atmosphere. "He has arrived!" Garett's thunderous voice shook the room as King Richard entered with a flourish, the sound of his regal cape sweeping across the ground echoing through the chamber. "My two other esteemed guest have finally graced us with their presence," Richard announced, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes as he surveyed his company. Lucas approached you and help you onto your feet. "Damn I hate her!" you curse. As the King took his seat at the head of the table, a hush fell over the room. Everyone waited with bated breath for him to speak. "I trust that all of you had a pleasant journey?" the King asked, addressing his guests with a warm smile. Variel inclined her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "As pleasant as a journey can be when one is ambushed by lowly bandits," she said dryly. The King's expression darkened at her words. "Bandits?" he repeated, his eyes flickering towards Garett. Garett cleared his throat uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the room. "Yes, your majesty," he admitted, his voice low. "There have been reports of bandit activity in the surrounding areas. The King's brows furrowed as he glanced at Variel. "Are you all right?" he asked, concern etched on his face. Variel's eyes bore into the cutlery in front of her, the disappointment palpable and radiating through the air. Her voice was tight as she spoke, her words laden with warning. "You should ask the bandits that question," she hissed, her disdain evident to all who were listening. The King visibly paled at her words, and you could see the fear in his eyes. "We will deal with the bandits," he declared firmly, his voice resonating with authority. "I will not let them harm my guests or my people." The King clicked his fingers and as if choreographed, they stepped into the hall, bringing with them trays laden with steaming dishes. The tantalizing smell of roasted meats and savoury vegetables permeated the room. The King nodded his approval and settled back into his seat. His gaze drifted across the table before he spoke, "For now let's put aside the world's problems and enjoy this meal together." His voice was gentle, yet commanding. Every eye was fixated on him as he smiled contentedly. ''//(Note: Oh silly me! All this talk and I have forgotten to ask to which OC you sitted up with?)//'' [[You look to your side and see Lucas]] [[You look to your side and see Clara]] [[You look to your side and see Variel]] [[You look to your side and see Lucian]]

You glided gracefully towards Lucas, until you stood intimately close to him. You pulled out the antique cherry-wood chair and lowered yourself into it with effortless grace next to the man who had captivated your heart. He looked up at you, his piercing blue eyes surveying your every move. "You again?" Lucas scoffed as he took a sip of his velvety red wine. The room was silent, save for the crackling fire in the hearth that cast shadows on the walls. The tension between you both was palpable; thick, like molasses. But you ignored everything around you except Lucas' chiseled face and soulful eyes. For just one fleeting moment, you saw past the cool exterior he projected and glimpsed something deeper: vulnerability. You smiled knowingly, determined to break through the barriers between you and make this night one to remember till you heard the words that came out of his mouth. Lucas' voice echoed through the room, laced with frustration and fury. He felt as if fate had toyed with him one too many times; like a puppet whose strings had been pulled once too often. "It seems that fate can't take a hint when to stop!" he bellowed, his voice thundering through the air. "Lucas!" Clara's stern voice roared through the air, emphasizing her disdain and frustration. Her amber eyes narrowed in rage as they locked on him. Garett leaned forward, placing his hands on Lucas' shoulders to make sure he was focused. "Lucas." His tone was deep and disappointed. Lucas remained completely still, not a single muscle twitching before he gulped down all of his goblet's content of red wine, some droplets spilling onto his lips. He wiped them off crudely with his sleeve, as if they were nothing more than dirt on the sidewalk and not meeting the eyes of the two. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment and pity at Lucas' outburst and lack of manners. He may have been a skilled warrior, but he lacked the grace and etiquette that was expected of a nobleman. As the banquet went on, the air slowly cleared of its tumultuous energy. The King turned to Lucian, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Lucian," he says in a gentle tone. "Tell us about yourself." Lucian swallowed thickly, feeling the gaze of those seated around him burning into his back like wildfire. He tried to speak but quickly found himself coughing on the food that refused to go down smoothly due to the crushing pressure in the room. Lucian's mouth gapped in disbelief. "M-me?" he stuttered, his eyes widening incredulously. Richard couldn't help but chuckle at Lucian's reaction. "Yes you! Garett said that you're a remarkable and fierce warrior – those are his own words!" He gave Lucian an appreciative look of admiration. "Human can you be stop being humble for once and enjoy basking in the glory!" Variel's voice cut through the air like a razor slicing through the softest flesh. Her eyes shifted from her heaping plate of food to a hunk of meat that sat atop her fork, and with her hand she summoned a gout of flames from beneath her palm, charring the meat with a sizzle before snuffing out the blaze. Lucian's lips were clamped tight, his cheeks flush pink in embarrassment. A hearty laugh escaped Garett's mouth as he chewed the succulent morsel of meat. "Lucian is a fine fighter, skilled and precise. He would make an excellent addition to the King's Vanguard!" You furrowed your brows in confusion. "The King's Vanguard? What exactly is that?" Clara put down her utensils and took a deep breath before explaining. "It is a team of elites who serve only one purpose: to protect the crown and bolster the kingdom's army in times of dire need." Richard smiled, dabbing his lips with a napkin. "You didn't even mention your mother's division, Clara." Lucas tensed at the statement, his voice turning to steel as he uttered two words. "The Queen's Eyes." "That will be?" Variel's ears perked up as Lucas began to explain. AHis voice was low and had a hushed tone, like he was afraid of being heard by the wrong people. Lucas shook his head in a trance-like state and continued. "The Eyes are the Queen's assassins and intelligence division. They dwell in the shadows whereas the Vanguard rules in the light. They are masters of stealth and espionage - the perfect choice if you need something done subtley. They have a versatile arsenal of dark magic that they can utilize on their missions." Variel's eyes sparkled with excitement at the mention of dark magic. "That sounds fascinating," she said, her voice low and husky. "I would love to know more about this Queen's Eyes." Lucas smiled wryly, his eyes flickering towards Variel. "I should warn you, joining the Eyes is not a decision to be taken lightly. Once you enter, there is no turning back." Variel's gaze did not waver. "I am aware of the risks," she said, her voice firm. "But the rewards are equally great." Lucas nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Variel's face. "If you are truly interested, I could arrange a meeting with the Queen's advisor. He could give you more details about the Eyes and their operations." Variel's lips curved into a wicked smile. "I would be more than pleased to oblige! I eagerly await when you make that challenge." "I am elated to see that you have taken a liking to my divisional plan!" Richard exclaimed, his ears red. "The idea, after all, was provided by a faithful companion, is it not so Garett?" Richard's head bobbed in the direction of his friend. "Indeed Your Majesty! I must say that managing 6 divisions with various roles and duties requires tremendous diligence." Garett swelled with pride. The King cleared his throat, the sound ricocheting around the somber room. Everyone looked up at him, awaiting what would come next. "Well," he began, a twinkle in his eye that was seemingly impossible only moments ago. "Let us enjoy the rest of this meal and each other's company." With that, conversation turned to lighter topics with everyone joking and sharing stories about themselves. A sense of camaraderie filled the air as everyone laughed together. As the meal came to an end, the King stood up with a commanding presence. There was an electrifying spark in his eyes that made everyone lean forward in anticipation. "I have an announcement to make," he said, his voice booming through the once silent room. Every face looked up at him expectantly and a murmur of excitement rippled through the guests. “I have decided to hold a ball; to commemorate the union between two people," he declared. There was a collective gasp followed by murmurs of interest as everyone leaned forward even more intently. "I want all of you to join," he continued, scanning around each one of them before finally landing on one vacant chair. "Um... Garett where is Lee by the way?" Richard asked, looking confused by Lee's absence. "I can't host a ball without my two honorable friends." Garett stood up looking ashamed and bowed his head low before speaking. "My sincerest apologies," he began, glancing at Clara who had raised her goblet in salute. At that moment, the door swung open with a bang making everyone turn towards it. "Sorry for being late everybody!" Lee shouted breathlessly as he walked into the room and sat next to Garett. "Lee! So nice of you to arrive," the King said happily, grateful for Lee's appearance. He clapped his hands together and said "Now that we are all here let us continue!" "This night, when the stars bear witness to our joy and the moon sheds its silver light upon us all, shall be remembered with great fondness!" the King decreed passionately. Lucian doubtfully raised a hand. "Excuse me! Is it too late to start organizing without any prior preparation?" he cautiously asked before apprehensively lowering his arm. Richard proudly smiled at him, believing that he had been able to ease all their worries. "Thanks to Lucas and Clara bringing my attention to Garrett's plans, as well as their departure to fetch Lady Variel from her home, I have managed to prepare for this ball in advance. So do not fret, everything is ready and waiting for tonight's grand event!" As the heavy door to the banquet hall opened, you were immediately engulfed by an aroma of sweet decadence. You heard Richard's gentle voice from across the room and it felt reassuring, like a hug from an old friend. "After dessert, I'd suggest you get some rest," he said, as he gracefully took his seat in front of you. "My servants will fetch you whatever type of attire you need for the event; do not hesitate to request whatever you desire. They'll be here shortly to retrieve your plate and serve you dessert." You watched as the servants shuffled in with careful steps and served out your desserts with delicate hands. The anticipation was almost tangible, like being on the edge of a cliff, looking over a sea of stars. The servant opened your plate and inside you see a dish with ice cream and three different toppings drizzled across the banana slices: strawberry, hot fudge, and whipped cream. Lucian didn’t wait another moment. He grabbed a spoon and greedily scooped up the ice cream, his eyes lit up with delight as he savored the sweet treat. Variel however was not so eager. She picked up a fork and started jabbing it into the beautiful banana split like some kind of an abomination. “What is this?” she asked while continuing her assault on the dessert. “It’s a banana split,” Clara explained patiently to Variel, listing its components. Reluctantly, Variel managed to scoop varied tidbits of cream onto her plate with the fork, before finally taking a bite. Her eyes widened in awe as she tasted all the flavors coming together in one magnificent fusion of sweetness, richness and tanginess. “Well this treat outrivals any dessert that I’m eating back at my home!” She exclaimed, overwhelmed by its magnificence. Everyone laughed at Variel's sudden change in opinion, and the atmosphere in the room lightened considerably. As they finished their dessert, the servants returned to collect their plates and clear the table. Richard stood up and addressed the group once more. "Alright everyone, we have a ball to attend in a few hours, so I suggest you all take a rest and prepare yourselves accordingly," he said, smiling at them all. The group dispersed, making their way to their respective chambers to freshen up and decide on their attire for the evening. Lucas hurriedly made his way to his quarters, desperately trying to avoid the eyes of anyone else but yours. "Lucas!" you shouted out frantically, your voice reverberating through the hallway as he steadily walked away, seemingly oblivious to your entreaties. Rage and shock built up inside you, and without any other choice, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You hastened your stride, resolute on catching up with him. Finally, you bridged the gap between you two and grasped his shoulder firmly, turning him back around. His furrowed eyes were filled with anger as he met your gaze. "What do you think you're doing?" he snapped, his words dripping with irritation. A maddening combination of fury and desperation rushed through every vein in your body, and you remained unyielding. "I've been trying to get your attention for so long, yet it's like I don't even exist," you fired back vehemently, your voice full of intensity. Lucas tried to brush off your worries, his expression becoming icier by the second. "I have important tasks to complete," he said nonchalantly, hastily trying to finish this conversation. An inferno was ignited within you, and submitting was not an option anymore. "Important tasks? More important than recognizing those who care about you?" you rebutted assertively, your voice ringing strong with conviction. As you confront Lucas, a voice suddenly cuts through the tension, drawing your attention. Variel, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, appears out of nowhere, indulging in another banana split. She smirks, savoring the drama unfolding before her. "Well, well, well, look at this little lovers' quarrel," Variel remarks with a playful lilt to her voice, taking delight in the unexpected turn of events. She leans against a nearby wall, casually observing the exchange between you and Lucas, clearly enjoying the spectacle. Clara, never one to miss out on a bit of amusement, crosses her arms, a knowing smile playing on her lips. She leans closer to Variel, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "Seems like our friends here are having a rather passionate discussion," she remarks, her voice dripping with humor. Lucas shoots Variel a withering glance, clearly unamused by her interruption. "This is none of your business, Variel," he retorts, his tone laced with irritation. Variel raises an eyebrow, unperturbed by Lucas's icy demeanor. "Oh, but everything is my business when it involves a good show," she replies, taking another bite of her banana split, relishing the taste as if it were the sweetest victory. You can't help but feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as Variel's playful comments draw attention to the intensity of the moment. You shoot her a playful glare, your own voice tinged with sarcasm. "Glad we could provide you with some entertainment, Variel. But don't forget, your banana split is melting," you retort, a hint of a smirk playing on your lips. Variel's eyes widen, and she quickly glances down at her dessert. Panic flickers across her face as she realizes the state of her rapidly melting treat. "Oh no! My beloved banana split!" she exclaims, feigning distress as she hurriedly takes another bite, trying to salvage what's left of the melting delicacy. Clara chuckles, finding the entire exchange highly amusing. "Well, it seems like the drama on our plates is just as enticing as the drama in the room," she remarks, her voice filled with playful banter. "I will be taking my leave!" Lucas says gruffly and turning around, leaving everyone. Clara's voice breaks through your reverie. "Aww, he's so cute when he's acting like a loner. Don't worry, <<print $player_name>>. We'll find another way to keep you entertained," she says with a wink. You laugh and shake your head, feeling grateful for the lively company. "I have no doubt about that, Clara. You always know how to keep things interesting." Variel rolls her eyes, looking bored with the whole situation. "I'm gonna go as well! I have better things to do than watch you two flirt with each other." she says and leaving. Clara's melodic laughter fills the air as she playfully nudges you. "Looks like it's just you and me now, <<print $player_name>>," she teases, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes. You can't help but smile at her infectious energy. "Sorry, Clara, but I really need to get some sleep," you reply, stifling a yawn and waving goodbye. She feigns a pout, her lips curling into a playful smirk. "Oh, what a shame! I was hoping for some more quality time with you," she quips, her voice laced with mock disappointment. You chuckle, appreciating her sense of humor. "Well, Clara, I guess you'll have to settle for your own entertaining company for now." She throws her head back, laughing melodically, before regaining her composure. "I suppose so. But don't think you can escape me that easily, <<print $player_name>>. We'll have our fun another time." With that playful threat lingering in the air, Clara gracefully bids her farewell and begins to make her exit. As she walks away, her vibrant presence lingers, leaving a sense of joy and liveliness in her wake. You watch her go, a mixture of amusement and fondness in your gaze. Clara had a way of bringing a spark to any gathering, and you were grateful for her infectious spirit. But for now, the allure of a good night's rest beckons, and you begin to make your way towards your own quarters. You found yourself wandering through the intricate halls, a sea of opulence and grandeur stretching before you. Lost in this labyrinth of luxury, you sought guidance, a flicker of hope in your eyes as you spotted a servant delicately dusting a collection of exquisite vases on a gilded shelf. Summoning your courage, you approached the servant, your voice filled with both politeness and a touch of desperation. "Excuse me, could you please point me in the direction of my quarters?" you asked, your words carrying a hint of urgency. The servant turned toward you, their eyes gleaming with a gentle kindness. "Of course! Follow me," they replied, bowing their head respectfully. With graceful steps, they led the way, guiding you through a labyrinth of turns and twists, each corridor seeming more splendid than the last. As you followed in their footsteps, your senses were overwhelmed by the symphony of opulence that surrounded you. The soft glow of shimmering chandeliers cascaded golden light upon the marble floors, illuminating the intricate carvings and tapestries adorning the walls. The air carried a hint of an exotic fragrance, a delicate blend of jasmine and sandalwood, filling your lungs with an intoxicating allure. Finally, the servant came to a halt, stopping before an ornate door that exuded an air of majesty. The craftsmanship on the door was a marvel to behold, intricate patterns and delicate motifs etched into the rich wood. The golden handle beckoned you, a promise of respite and tranquility behind its polished facade. With a final bow, the servant bid you a pleasant rest, their demeanor radiating a deep respect for your presence. Their departure left you standing alone, your hand reaching out to grasp the handle. As you turned it, the door creaked open, revealing a sight that stole your breath away. The room, bathed in soft, ethereal light, unfolded before you like a dream come to life. It was a sanctuary of elegance and indulgence, where every detail spoke of luxury and refinement. The towering canopy bed, draped in cascading silken curtains, beckoned you to surrender to its embrace. The plush velvet armchairs nestled by the window, overlooking a meticulously manicured garden, offered a haven for quiet contemplation. Intricate artwork adorned the walls, showcasing masterpieces that seemed to come alive under the golden glow of the sconces. Your senses were delighted by the symphony of textures and scents that enveloped the room. The lush carpet beneath your feet invited you to sink into its velvety depths, while the delicate fragrance of freshly picked flowers danced on the air, infusing the space with a touch of nature's beauty. With a contented sigh, you made your way to the bed, sinking into its plush embrace. The soft, silky sheets cocooned you in comfort, lulling you into a sense of relaxation. As your eyes fluttered closed, your mind began to drift, contemplating the upcoming ball. Excitement and anticipation swirled within you, a sense of wonder at what the night would bring. You couldn't help but imagine the exquisite dresses and fine suits that would adorn the guests, the intricate dance routines and the enchanting melodies of the orchestra. It would be a night of elegance and indulgence, a chance to forget the worries of the world and simply bask in the splendor of the moment. The images of vibrant gowns and impeccably tailored suits flickered in your mind, each figure adorned with sparkling jewels and a sense of regality. The ballroom itself materialized before you, its vast space transformed into a realm of enchantment. The soft melodies of the orchestra swirled in the air, their notes luring you into a world where every step was a dance and every glance held a hidden meaning. You wondered who would be in attendance, who would grace the ballroom with their presence. Would there be dignitaries from far-off lands, their exotic attire and mysterious allure adding an air of mystique to the festivities? For now you drift sleep, there's no use being tired thinking about it. [[Continue|Richard POV]]

You stepped closer to Clara, your arm brushing hers as you settled in next to her. Despite this, she sat transfixed by the sight of Variel, her eyes never leaving her for a moment. "Why didn't you tell me that the dragon could be so interesting?" she sighed dreamily, completely enraptured with the sight before her. You shot her a withering glance, the sarcasm oozing from your words. "So getting hurt for her pleasure and entertainment is interesting to you now?” Clara let out a soft laugh in response. "Well when you put it like that then it doesn’t seem like such a fun idea." She paused for effect before continuing. "But maybe getting hurt by her isn't so bad after all." Your eyebrows raised in disbelief, shocked at her mindset. "Don't tell me you're thinking what I'm thinking?" A mischievous smile tugged at the corner of Clara's lips as she dragged out her words. ''"Maaaaaybeeeeee!"'' You shook your head in disbelief, unsure of how to respond to Clara's sudden change in attitude. It seemed like the princess had a newfound fascination with Variel, the dragon who had just moments ago nearly killed you But then again, Clara was always one to crave adventure and excitement, no matter the risk. As the meal progressed, Variel remained mostly silent, her attention focused on the food before her. The tension in the air was palpable, and you could sense that everyone was holding their breath, waiting for something to happen. Just as you were about to take a bite of your roasted chicken, Variel spoke up, her voice low and dangerous. "I'm sure you all are aware of the reason for my visit," she said, her eyes glittering with malice. The King's face darkened at her words. "Yes, of course," he said, his voice strained. "We have been expecting you." Variel nodded curtly in response. "Then can you explain to me why I was being accused of a crime I didn't commit?" she ask, her words laced with barely disguised threat. Clara's eyes widened as Garett spoke, about the charges against Variel. "Wait what crime?" she asked urgently. Garett took a leisurely bite of his venison before responding. "You see, a villager approached us saying that Variel here is responsible for destroying their village and lifelihood, unbeknownst to her and so the King sent us to fetch her." He drawled, as though it were a mundane occurrence for him. Variel slammed her fist on the table with such ferocity, that it rattled the wares around them. But everyone acted unfazed-- except you and Lucian. Her face contorted in rage and her fists clenched tightly at her sides. "I told you I'm innocent!" She yelled vehemently. "Those are lies!" The King raised his hand in a calming gesture. "I understand your anger, Variel," he said, his voice conciliatory. "But we must follow protocol in these matters. Garett, did you investigate the village in question?" Garett looked up from his plate with a bored expression. "Yes, your majesty," he said, his voice flat. "We found evidence of dragon fire in the ruins of the village, and witnesses reported seeing a dragon flying away from the scene." Variel's eyes narrowed, the rage clear in her expression. "And did you find any evidence that links me to the crime?" she demanded, her voice sharp. Garett shrugged, his nonchalance infuriating Variel even further. "No, we did not," he said, his tone bored. "But the villagers are convinced that it was you, so we had to bring you in for questioning." Variel's eyes burned like fire as she menacingly glared at Richard. Her voice rose to a crescendo,"You have not one evidence, nor any shred of proof that I'm the culprit and all you have is the hearsays of some inconspicuous village inhabitants?!" The lofty walls of the dining room reverberated with her enraged words as people watched in awe. The tension in the room was thick as the King and Garett exchanged wary glances. "We will investigate these claims further," the King declared, trying to diffuse the situation. "But for now, let us enjoy this meal together. There will be plenty of time for discussions later." Variel's eyes flickered with a dangerous glint as she reluctantly acquiesced to the King's request. "Very well," she said through gritted teeth, her anger barely suppressed. The rest of the meal progressed in awkward silence, with everyone keeping a wary eye on Variel. "So Variel! Could you please tell us more about yourself?" Richard asked trying to sooth the brewing emotions in the air, his knife slicing through a piece of succulent meat. "It would be my pleasure!" Variel replied, voice low and dangerous. Variel nodded, a sinister smile crossing her lips. "Yes, a dragon. And not just any dragon, but one of the most powerful ones in the land." she says more like a warning. The others at the table were suddenly rendered speechless, and you couldn't help but feel a chill run down your spine. Variel was certainly making her presence known. "I am formidable," Variel proclaimed with undisputed assurance. "And I will stop at nothing to safeguard my kingdom and those under my care." The King raised an eyebrow at her words, his voice dripping with curiosity. "What is this kingdom that you intend to protect?" he asked. Variel's expression turned somber. "The Dragon's Keep," she replied. "You see," she began, her voice hypnotic and alluring, "I come from a long line of draconic nobility. My parents were both esteemed rulers and I have inherited their power and intellect. But more importantly, I am an expert in fire magic. I have spent centuries sharpening my ability, and can conjure flames capable of incinerating entire cities." A glimmer of recognition flashed in the King’s eyes as if knowing something about Variel’s family. “I take it from my father as I'm sure some of you know in once upon a time our kind banded together against a common foe...” paused Variel as she took a sip from the goblet on her hand before continuing the tale; "My father Durandal, The Eternal Flame got his name due to his pyromancy, no moisture nor ice can put out his raging inferno while as for my mother Aeloria, The Everlasting Winter, folklores speak of when there is a heavy snowfall on your lands it was caused by Aeloria and if you want to clear it up you must ask for forgiveness if you did something wrong!" The King's face was a mix of awe and fear as he listened to Variel's story. "Your parents sound like formidable beings," he said, his voice tinged with respect. Variel nodded, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "They were," she replied, her voice softening. "But they are no longer with us. They were killed in battle during the war." The room fell silent as Variel spoke, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air. You could feel the sadness emanating from her, a deep ache that seemed to permeate her very being. You wondered what it must have been like for her, losing her parents in such a violent way. "I'm so sorry," Clara whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. Variel looked up, her eyes meeting Clara's. "Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was a long time ago but the pain never truly goes away." The King cleared his throat, the sound ricocheting around the somber room. Everyone looked up at him, awaiting what would come next. "Well," he began, a twinkle in his eye that was seemingly impossible only moments ago. "Let us enjoy the rest of this meal and each other's company." With that, conversation turned to lighter topics with everyone joking and sharing stories about themselves. A sense of camaraderie filled the air as everyone laughed together. As the meal came to an end, the King stood up with a commanding presence. There was an electrifying spark in his eyes that made everyone lean forward in anticipation. "I have an announcement to make," he said, his voice booming through the once silent room. Every face looked up at him expectantly and a murmur of excitement rippled through the guests. “I have decided to hold a ball; to commemorate the union between two people," he declared. There was a collective gasp followed by murmurs of interest as everyone leaned forward even more intently. "I want all of you to join," he continued, scanning around each one of them before finally landing on one vacant chair. "Um... Garett where is Lee by the way?" Richard asked, looking confused by Lee's absence. "I can't host a ball without my two honorable friends." Garett stood up looking ashamed and bowed his head low before speaking. "My sincerest apologies," he began, glancing at Clara who had raised her goblet in salute. At that moment, the door swung open with a bang making everyone turn towards it. "Sorry for being late everybody!" Lee shouted breathlessly as he walked into the room and sat next to Garett. "Lee! So nice of you to arrive," the King said happily, grateful for Lee's appearance. He clapped his hands together and said "Now that we are all here let us continue!" "This night, when the stars bear witness to our joy and the moon sheds its silver light upon us all, shall be remembered with great fondness!" the King decreed passionately. Lucian doubtfully raised a hand. "Excuse me! Is it too late to start organizing without any prior preparation?" he cautiously asked before apprehensively lowering his arm. Richard proudly smiled at him, believing that he had been able to ease all their worries. "Thanks to Lucas and Clara bringing my attention to Garrett's plans, as well as their departure to fetch Lady Variel from her home, I have managed to prepare for this ball in advance. So do not fret, everything is ready and waiting for tonight's grand event!" As the heavy door to the banquet hall opened, you were immediately engulfed by an aroma of sweet decadence. You heard Richard's gentle voice from across the room and it felt reassuring, like a hug from an old friend. "After dessert, I'd suggest you get some rest," he said, as he gracefully took his seat in front of you. "My servants will fetch you whatever type of attire you need for the event; do not hesitate to request whatever you desire. They'll be here shortly to retrieve your plate and serve you dessert." You watched as the servants shuffled in with careful steps and served out your desserts with delicate hands. The anticipation was almost tangible, like being on the edge of a cliff, looking over a sea of stars. The servant opened your plate and inside you see a dish with ice cream and three different toppings drizzled across the banana slices: strawberry, hot fudge, and whipped cream. Lucian didn’t wait another moment. He grabbed a spoon and greedily scooped up the ice cream, his eyes lit up with delight as he savored the sweet treat. Variel however was not so eager. She picked up a fork and started jabbing it into the beautiful banana split like some kind of an abomination. “What is this?” she asked while continuing her assault on the dessert. “It’s a banana split,” Clara explained patiently to Variel, listing its components. Reluctantly, Variel managed to scoop varied tidbits of cream onto her plate with the fork, before finally taking a bite. Her eyes widened in awe as she tasted all the flavors coming together in one magnificent fusion of sweetness, richness and tanginess. “Well this treat outrivals any dessert that I’m eating back at my home!” She exclaimed, overwhelmed by its magnificence. Everyone laughed at Variel's sudden change in opinion, and the atmosphere in the room lightened considerably. As they finished their dessert, the servants returned to collect their plates and clear the table. Richard stood up and addressed the group once more. "Alright everyone, we have a ball to attend in a few hours, so I suggest you all take a rest and prepare yourselves accordingly," he said, smiling at them all. The group dispersed, making their way to their respective chambers to freshen up and decide on their attire for the evening. Clara gracefully walked down the dimly lit corridor, her mind still reeling from the astonishing revelation that a living dragon had survived the catastrophic Scourge. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her name echoing through the hallway. "Clara!" your voice called out, filled with urgency and desire. She turned her head, her eyes sparkling with mischief, as she spotted you approaching. A mischievous smile danced upon her lips, a clear invitation for the playful banter to come. She leaned against the wall, her body language teasing and inviting. "Well, well, aren't you persistent," Clara purred, her voice a sultry melody that sent shivers down your spine. "To think you would choose me above all others, it's quite the honor." You closed the distance between you, your gaze locked with hers, and your voice dripped with flirtatious intent. "Oh, Clara, you underestimate the allure of your enigmatic presence. It's impossible to resist." She feigned a yawn, her delicate hand rising to cover her mouth, adding a touch of coyness to her act. "Ah, but dear <<print $player_name>>, as much as I appreciate your advances, today's activities and the excitement have left me a little drained," she admitted, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Your eyes narrowed, a playful challenge in your voice. "Is that so? Perhaps I could assist in reinvigorating your energy, Clara. I have a few tricks up my sleeve." She raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "Oh, really? And what tricks might those be?" You stepped closer, a sly grin playing on your lips. "Well, I happen to be an expert in the art of rejuvenation massages. I could work wonders on those tired muscles of yours." Clara's laughter echoed through the corridor, a delightful sound that danced in the air. "Is that how you plan to win me over, with your magical touch? You'll have to do better than that, darling." A mischievous glint flickered in your eyes as you leaned in, your breath teasing her ear. "Oh, Clara, you have no idea the lengths I would go to prove my skills. But for now, rest and recharge, for when you're ready, I'll be waiting." She chuckled softly, her fingers lightly grazing your arm. "Well, I wouldn't want to keep you waiting too long, now would I? I'll be sure to find you when I'm in need of that magical touch." With a final flirty glance, Clara turned and disappeared into her chambers, leaving you with an intoxicating mix of anticipation and desire. The air crackled with the promise of what was yet to come, leaving you eagerly awaiting the moment when you could fulfill your playful promises with Clara. But for now, the allure of a good night's rest beckons, and you begin to make your way towards your own quarters. You found yourself wandering through the intricate halls, a sea of opulence and grandeur stretching before you. Lost in this labyrinth of luxury, you sought guidance, a flicker of hope in your eyes as you spotted a servant delicately dusting a collection of exquisite vases on a gilded shelf. Summoning your courage, you approached the servant, your voice filled with both politeness and a touch of desperation. "Excuse me, could you please point me in the direction of my quarters?" you asked, your words carrying a hint of urgency. The servant turned toward you, their eyes gleaming with a gentle kindness. "Of course! Follow me," they replied, bowing their head respectfully. With graceful steps, they led the way, guiding you through a labyrinth of turns and twists, each corridor seeming more splendid than the last. As you followed in their footsteps, your senses were overwhelmed by the symphony of opulence that surrounded you. The soft glow of shimmering chandeliers cascaded golden light upon the marble floors, illuminating the intricate carvings and tapestries adorning the walls. The air carried a hint of an exotic fragrance, a delicate blend of jasmine and sandalwood, filling your lungs with an intoxicating allure. Finally, the servant came to a halt, stopping before an ornate door that exuded an air of majesty. The craftsmanship on the door was a marvel to behold, intricate patterns and delicate motifs etched into the rich wood. The golden handle beckoned you, a promise of respite and tranquility behind its polished facade. With a final bow, the servant bid you a pleasant rest, their demeanor radiating a deep respect for your presence. Their departure left you standing alone, your hand reaching out to grasp the handle. As you turned it, the door creaked open, revealing a sight that stole your breath away. The room, bathed in soft, ethereal light, unfolded before you like a dream come to life. It was a sanctuary of elegance and indulgence, where every detail spoke of luxury and refinement. The towering canopy bed, draped in cascading silken curtains, beckoned you to surrender to its embrace. The plush velvet armchairs nestled by the window, overlooking a meticulously manicured garden, offered a haven for quiet contemplation. Intricate artwork adorned the walls, showcasing masterpieces that seemed to come alive under the golden glow of the sconces. Your senses were delighted by the symphony of textures and scents that enveloped the room. The lush carpet beneath your feet invited you to sink into its velvety depths, while the delicate fragrance of freshly picked flowers danced on the air, infusing the space with a touch of nature's beauty. With a contented sigh, you made your way to the bed, sinking into its plush embrace. The soft, silky sheets cocooned you in comfort, lulling you into a sense of relaxation. As your eyes fluttered closed, your mind began to drift, contemplating the upcoming ball. Excitement and anticipation swirled within you, a sense of wonder at what the night would bring. You couldn't help but imagine the exquisite dresses and fine suits that would adorn the guests, the intricate dance routines and the enchanting melodies of the orchestra. It would be a night of elegance and indulgence, a chance to forget the worries of the world and simply bask in the splendor of the moment. The images of vibrant gowns and impeccably tailored suits flickered in your mind, each figure adorned with sparkling jewels and a sense of regality. The ballroom itself materialized before you, its vast space transformed into a realm of enchantment. The soft melodies of the orchestra swirled in the air, their notes luring you into a world where every step was a dance and every glance held a hidden meaning. You wondered who would be in attendance, who would grace the ballroom with their presence. Would there be dignitaries from far-off lands, their exotic attire and mysterious allure adding an air of mystique to the festivities? For now you drift sleep, there's no use being tired thinking about it. [[Continue|Richard POV]]

You carefully approach the table, Variel sitting still to her right and Clara sitted near to her father. Your heart is pounding, your palms are sweating, as you take a seat in between them. "You never fail to impress me with your hunger for punishment!" mused Variel as she cast a curious glance at you. A knowing smirk crept across her features. "And you will never cease to amaze me with your sickening wickedness!" you snarl, feeling a surge of rage swirling within you. Variel placed her fan delicately on the table and smiled smugly. "What can I say! It's just something that comes naturally to me." Her slender fingers grasped the bowl of cherries and plucked one off, savouring it as she consumed it in one gulp. So Variel! Could you please tell us more about yourself?" Richard asked, his knife slicing through a piece of succulent meat. "It would be my pleasure!" Variel replied, her eyes lingering on your face for much longer than necessary - much to your disdain. She finally diverted her gaze and directed her attention towards the King. The others at the table were suddenly rendered speechless, and you couldn't help but feel a chill run down your spine. Variel was certainly making her presence known. "I am formidable," Variel proclaimed with undisputed assurance. "And I will stop at nothing to safeguard my kingdom and those under my care." The King raised an eyebrow at her words, his voice dripping with curiosity. "What is this kingdom that you intend to protect?" he asked. Variel's expression turned somber. "The Dragon's Keep," she replied. "You see," she began, her voice hypnotic and alluring, "I come from a long line of draconic nobility. My parents were both esteemed rulers and I have inherited their power and intellect. But more importantly, I am an expert in fire magic. I have spent centuries sharpening my ability, and can conjure flames capable of incinerating entire cities." A glimmer of recognition flashed in the King’s eyes as if knowing something about Variel’s family. “I take it from my father as I'm sure some of you know in once upon a time our kind banded together against a common foe...” paused Variel as she took a sip from the goblet on her hand before continuing the tale; "My father Durandal, The Eternal Flame got his name due to his pyromancy, no moisture nor ice can put out his raging inferno while as for my mother Aeloria, The Everlasting Winter, folklores speak of when there is a heavy snowfall on your lands it was caused by her and if you want to clear it up you must ask for forgiveness if you did something wrong!" The King's face was a mix of awe and fear as he listened to Variel's story. "Your parents sound like formidable beings," he said, his voice tinged with respect. Variel nodded, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "They were," she replied, her voice softening. "But they are no longer with us. They were killed in battle during the war." The room fell silent as Variel spoke, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air. You could feel the sadness emanating from her, a deep ache that seemed to permeate her very being. You wondered what it must have been like for her, losing her parents in such a violent way. "I'm so sorry," Clara whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. Variel looked up, her eyes meeting Clara's. "Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was a long time ago yet the pain never truly goes away." The King cleared his throat, the sound ricocheting around the somber room. Everyone looked up at him, awaiting what would come next. "Well," he began, a twinkle in his eye that was seemingly impossible only moments ago. "Let us enjoy the rest of this meal and each other's company." With that, conversation turned to lighter topics with everyone joking and sharing stories about themselves. A sense of camaraderie filled the air as everyone laughed together. As the meal came to an end, the King stood up with a commanding presence. There was an electrifying spark in his eyes that made everyone lean forward in anticipation. "I have an announcement to make," he said, his voice booming through the once silent room. Every face looked up at him expectantly and a murmur of excitement rippled through the guests. “I have decided to hold a ball; to commemorate the union between two people," he declared. There was a collective gasp followed by murmurs of interest as everyone leaned forward even more intently. "I want all of you to join," he continued, scanning around each one of them before finally landing on one vacant chair. "Um... Garett where is Lee by the way?" Richard asked, looking confused by Lee's absence. "I can't host a ball without my two honorable friends." Garett stood up looking ashamed and bowed his head low before speaking. "My sincerest apologies," he began, glancing at Clara who had raised her goblet in salute. At that moment, the door swung open with a bang making everyone turn towards it. "Sorry for being late everybody!" Lee shouted breathlessly as he walked into the room and sat next to Garett. "Lee! So nice of you to arrive," the King said happily, grateful for Lee's appearance. He clapped his hands together and said "Now that we are all here let us continue!" "This night, when the stars bear witness to our joy and the moon sheds its silver light upon us all, shall be remembered with great fondness!" the King decreed passionately. Lucian doubtfully raised a hand. "Excuse me! Is it too late to start organizing without any prior preparation?" he cautiously asked before apprehensively lowering his arm. Richard proudly smiled at him, believing that he had been able to ease all their worries. "Thanks to Lucas and Clara bringing my attention to Garrett's plans, as well as their departure to fetch Lady Variel from her home, I have managed to prepare for this ball in advance. So do not fret, everything is ready and waiting for tonight's grand event!" As the heavy door to the banquet hall opened, you were immediately engulfed by an aroma of sweet decadence. You heard Richard's gentle voice from across the room and it felt reassuring, like a hug from an old friend. "After dessert, I'd suggest you get some rest," he said, as he gracefully took his seat in front of you. "My servants will fetch you whatever type of attire you need for the event; do not hesitate to request whatever you desire. They'll be here shortly to retrieve your plate and serve you dessert." You watched as the servants shuffled in with careful steps and served out your desserts with delicate hands. The anticipation was almost tangible, like being on the edge of a cliff, looking over a sea of stars. The servant opened your plate and inside you see a dish with ice cream and three different toppings drizzled across the banana slices: strawberry, hot fudge, and whipped cream. Lucian didn’t wait another moment. He grabbed a spoon and greedily scooped up the ice cream, his eyes lit up with delight as he savored the sweet treat. Variel however was not so eager. She picked up a fork and started jabbing it into the beautiful banana split like some kind of an abomination. “What is this?” she asked while continuing her assault on the dessert. “It’s a banana split,” Clara explained patiently to Variel, listing its components. Reluctantly, Variel managed to scoop varied tidbits of cream onto her plate with the fork, before finally taking a bite. Her eyes widened in awe as she tasted all the flavors coming together in one magnificent fusion of sweetness, richness and tanginess. “Well this treat outrivals any dessert that I’m eating back at my home!” She exclaimed, overwhelmed by its magnificence. Everyone laughed at Variel's sudden change in opinion, and the atmosphere in the room lightened considerably. As they finished their dessert, the servants returned to collect their plates and clear the table. Richard stood up and addressed the group once more. "Alright everyone, we have a ball to attend in a few hours, so I suggest you all take a rest and prepare yourselves accordingly," he said, smiling at them all. The group dispersed, making their way to their respective chambers to freshen up and decide on their attire for the evening. As Variel gracefully made her way to her room, the last lingering bite of her banana split still upon her lips. You followed closely behind, determined to capture her attention. "Variel!" you called out, your voice filled with a strange mixture of both ecstatic excitement and longing desire. Variel halted in her tracks, turning around to face you with a mischievous glint twinkling in those mysterious eyes of hers. A playful smirk danced on her lips as she observed your relentless determination. In one hand was clutched a spoon, with a fork wedged between its prongs; an unusual combination that seemed to perfectly encapsulate her spirited nature. “Ah, little mouse," she teased, amusement dripping from every word that passed through those kissable lips of hers. "I must admit, I am quite flattered by your insistency however, even formidable forces such as myself need to find some rest." Her sapphire eyes sparkled with pure joy as she scooped up another spoonful of her delectable dessert; indulging in its sweet embrace. You couldn't help but chuckle at her remark, admiring how easily she wore pleasure like a second skin. "Rest huh? Well if it means you'll wake up ready to conquer the world then I shall eagerly await your triumphant return." You never miss an opportunity for playfulness. Variel grinned broadly at your response, her infectious laughter joining yours in the air. "Oh, you have no idea," she retorted; a playful challenge lacing each syllable of hers. "When I awaken the world won't know what hit it." You rolled your eyes at her nonchalance though you were secretly hoping for her success. “Well if that’s the case then I guess I’ll just have to find someone else to keep me company” you quipped sarcastically, a sly smile playing across your features. Variel chuckled heartily before taking one final indulgent bite of her beloved dessert. “Good luck with that little mouse” she teased with a wink before disappearing into the shadows of her room. The air crackled with the promise of what was yet to come. But for now, the allure of a good night's rest beckons, and you begin to make your way towards your own quarters. You found yourself wandering through the intricate halls, a sea of opulence and grandeur stretching before you. Lost in this labyrinth of luxury, you sought guidance, a flicker of hope in your eyes as you spotted a servant delicately dusting a collection of exquisite vases on a gilded shelf. Summoning your courage, you approached the servant, your voice filled with both politeness and a touch of desperation. "Excuse me, could you please point me in the direction of my quarters?" you asked, your words carrying a hint of urgency. The servant turned toward you, their eyes gleaming with a gentle kindness. "Of course! Follow me," they replied, bowing their head respectfully. With graceful steps, they led the way, guiding you through a labyrinth of turns and twists, each corridor seeming more splendid than the last. As you followed in their footsteps, your senses were overwhelmed by the symphony of opulence that surrounded you. The soft glow of shimmering chandeliers cascaded golden light upon the marble floors, illuminating the intricate carvings and tapestries adorning the walls. The air carried a hint of an exotic fragrance, a delicate blend of jasmine and sandalwood, filling your lungs with an intoxicating allure. Finally, the servant came to a halt, stopping before an ornate door that exuded an air of majesty. The craftsmanship on the door was a marvel to behold, intricate patterns and delicate motifs etched into the rich wood. The golden handle beckoned you, a promise of respite and tranquility behind its polished facade. With a final bow, the servant bid you a pleasant rest, their demeanor radiating a deep respect for your presence. Their departure left you standing alone, your hand reaching out to grasp the handle. As you turned it, the door creaked open, revealing a sight that stole your breath away. The room, bathed in soft, ethereal light, unfolded before you like a dream come to life. It was a sanctuary of elegance and indulgence, where every detail spoke of luxury and refinement. The towering canopy bed, draped in cascading silken curtains, beckoned you to surrender to its embrace. The plush velvet armchairs nestled by the window, overlooking a meticulously manicured garden, offered a haven for quiet contemplation. Intricate artwork adorned the walls, showcasing masterpieces that seemed to come alive under the golden glow of the sconces. Your senses were delighted by the symphony of textures and scents that enveloped the room. The lush carpet beneath your feet invited you to sink into its velvety depths, while the delicate fragrance of freshly picked flowers danced on the air, infusing the space with a touch of nature's beauty. With a contented sigh, you made your way to the bed, sinking into its plush embrace. The soft, silky sheets cocooned you in comfort, lulling you into a sense of relaxation. As your eyes fluttered closed, your mind began to drift, contemplating the upcoming ball. Excitement and anticipation swirled within you, a sense of wonder at what the night would bring. You couldn't help but imagine the exquisite dresses and fine suits that would adorn the guests, the intricate dance routines and the enchanting melodies of the orchestra. It would be a night of elegance and indulgence, a chance to forget the worries of the world and simply bask in the splendor of the moment. The images of vibrant gowns and impeccably tailored suits flickered in your mind, each figure adorned with sparkling jewels and a sense of regality. The ballroom itself materialized before you, its vast space transformed into a realm of enchantment. The soft melodies of the orchestra swirled in the air, their notes luring you into a world where every step was a dance and every glance held a hidden meaning. You wondered who would be in attendance, who would grace the ballroom with their presence. Would there be dignitaries from far-off lands, their exotic attire and mysterious allure adding an air of mystique to the festivities? For now you drift sleep, there's no use being tired thinking about it. [[Continue|Richard POV]]

As you approached Lucian, the air crackled with an electric anticipation, each heartbeat resonating with the thrill of the moment. His piercing gaze locked onto you, exerting an irresistible gravitational pull that urged you closer. With a fluid grace, Lucian rose from his seat, his movements resembling a choreographed dance. He extended a hand towards the chair, a gallant gesture that sent shivers of delight through your veins. "Allow me," he murmured, his voice a velvet caress, as he pulled the chair back for you with a flourish that spoke of old-world chivalry. A soft blush colored your cheeks as you settled into the seat, feeling a mixture of gratitude and a growing sense of connection. Lucian's attention to detail extended beyond the mere act of seating you; he delicately pushed the chair in, ensuring your comfort before settling himself opposite you at the table. Clara, an astute observer of the unfolding scene, couldn't help but let out a gasp, her eyes widening in admiration. "My, oh my, what a true gentleman," she whispered, her voice filled with awe and a hint of mischief. However, before the romantic atmosphere could fully envelop the moment, Variel, ever the provocateur, interjected with a cutting remark, shattering the fragile tranquility. "More like a pitiful display of feelings," he sneered, his words dripping with cynicism. Lucian, immersed in the moment with you, is suddenly interrupted by the commanding voice of the king. The weight of the royal presence fills the room, and all eyes turn to the source of authority. "Lucian," the king's voice resonates with an air of authority. "Allow me to share with you the words of my esteemed friend, Garret. He insists that you are truly a force to be reckoned with," the king declares, his voice carrying the weight of his conviction. Garret, a confidant of the king, sits straight with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He delights in stirring the pot, adding a touch of intrigue to the gathering. "Oh yes, indeed," he quips with a playful grin. "Lucian here is no ordinary mortal. He possesses a power that could send even the bravest of knights running for cover." "I'm sure Garett is just overexagerating his words." Lucian says and dismissing the comment with a wave of his hand. Lucian waved off the comment dismissively, a flick of his hand conveying nonchalance. "I assure you, Your Majesty, Garret tends to exaggerate," he replied, his voice tinged with a humble confidence. Garret, unable to contain his amusement, burst into hearty laughter, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Oh, Lucian, my friend, you underestimate yourself! Your prowess as a fighter is unparalleled, precise and masterful. You would be a shining addition to the King's Vanguard!" Your brow furrowed in curiosity, unable to contain your question any longer. "The King's Vanguard? What exactly does that entail?" you inquired, seeking clarity amidst the whispers of secret societies and elite groups. Clara, ever the knowledgeable one, placed her utensils down, her eyes sparkling with a blend of wisdom and excitement. She took a deep breath before explaining, her voice carrying a touch of reverence. "The King's Vanguard is a select team of elite warriors. Their sole purpose is to safeguard the crown and reinforce the kingdom's military might in times of grave peril." A smile curved Richard's lips as he dabbed them delicately with a napkin. "Ah, Clara, you forgot to mention your mother's division," he interjected playfully, his eyes twinkling mischievously. Lucas, ever alert to the mention of the Queen's division, tensed slightly, his voice turning firm as he uttered two words. "The Queen's Eyes." Variel, her interest piqued, leaned in closer, her eyes shining with intrigue. "Oh, do tell us more about the Queen's Eyes," she coaxed Lucas's voice dropped to a whisper, as if fearful ears lurked nearby. He shook his head, almost trance-like, and divulged the secrets of the Queen's Eyes. "They are the shadow-dwellers, masters of stealth and espionage," he explained, his words laced with intrigue. "They operate in the darkness while the Vanguard reigns in the light. The Eyes are the Queen's assassins and intelligence division, skilled in the art of subtlety. With their arsenal of dark magic, they excel at missions requiring finesse." Variel's eyes gleamed with excitement at the mention of dark magic. Her voice turned low and husky as she expressed her curiosity. "I'm fascinated by the Queen's Eyes. I yearn to learn more about them." A wry smile played upon Lucas's lips as his eyes flickered towards Variel. "Joining the Eyes is not a decision to be taken lightly," he cautioned. "Once you enter their ranks, there is no turning back." Undeterred, Variel held Lucas's gaze unwaveringly. Her voice took on a firm tone. "I am aware of the risks," she asserted. "But the rewards are equally great." Lucas nodded slowly, captivated by Variel's resolve. "If you truly desire it, I can arrange a meeting with the Queen's advisor. He can provide you with more details about the Eyes and their operations." Variel's lips curled into a wicked smile. "I eagerly await that challenge. Count me in." "I am elated to see that you have taken a liking to my divisional plan!" Richard exclaimed, his ears red. "The idea, after all, was provided by a faithful companion, is it not so Garett?" Richard's head bobbed in the direction of his friend. "Indeed Your Majesty! I must say that managing 6 divisions with various roles and duties requires tremendous diligence." Garett swelled with pride. The King cleared his throat, the sound ricocheting around the somber room. Everyone looked up at him, awaiting what would come next. "Well," he began, a twinkle in his eye that was seemingly impossible only moments ago. "Let us enjoy the rest of this meal and each other's company." With that, conversation turned to lighter topics with everyone joking and sharing stories about themselves. A sense of camaraderie filled the air as everyone laughed together. As the meal came to an end, the King stood up with a commanding presence. There was an electrifying spark in his eyes that made everyone lean forward in anticipation. "I have an announcement to make," he said, his voice booming through the once silent room. Every face looked up at him expectantly and a murmur of excitement rippled through the guests. “I have decided to hold a ball; to commemorate the union between two people," he declared. There was a collective gasp followed by murmurs of interest as everyone leaned forward even more intently. "I want all of you to join," he continued, scanning around each one of them before finally landing on one vacant chair. "Um... Garett where is Lee by the way?" Richard asked, looking confused by Lee's absence. "I can't host a ball without my two honorable friends." Garett stood up looking ashamed and bowed his head low before speaking. "My sincerest apologies," he began, glancing at Clara who had raised her goblet in salute. At that moment, the door swung open with a bang making everyone turn towards it. "Sorry for being late everybody!" Lee shouted breathlessly as he walked into the room and sat next to Garett. "Lee! So nice of you to arrive," the King said happily, grateful for Lee's appearance. He clapped his hands together and said "Now that we are all here let us continue!" "This night, when the stars bear witness to our joy and the moon sheds its silver light upon us all, shall be remembered with great fondness!" the King decreed passionately. Lucian doubtfully raised a hand. "Excuse me! Is it too late to start organizing without any prior preparation?" he cautiously asked before apprehensively lowering his arm. Richard proudly smiled at him, believing that he had been able to ease all their worries. "Thanks to Lucas and Clara bringing my attention to Garrett's plans, as well as their departure to fetch Lady Variel from her home, I have managed to prepare for this ball in advance. So do not fret, everything is ready and waiting for tonight's grand event!" As the heavy door to the banquet hall opened, you were immediately engulfed by an aroma of sweet decadence. You heard Richard's gentle voice from across the room and it felt reassuring, like a hug from an old friend. "After dessert, I'd suggest you get some rest," he said, as he gracefully took his seat in front of you. "My servants will fetch you whatever type of attire you need for the event; do not hesitate to request whatever you desire. They'll be here shortly to retrieve your plate and serve you dessert." You watched as the servants shuffled in with careful steps and served out your desserts with delicate hands. The anticipation was almost tangible, like being on the edge of a cliff, looking over a sea of stars. The servant opened your plate and inside you see a dish with ice cream and three different toppings drizzled across the banana slices: strawberry, hot fudge, and whipped cream. Lucian didn’t wait another moment. He grabbed a spoon and greedily scooped up the ice cream, his eyes lit up with delight as he savored the sweet treat. Variel however was not so eager. She picked up a fork and started jabbing it into the beautiful banana split like some kind of an abomination. “What is this?” she asked while continuing her assault on the dessert. “It’s a banana split,” Clara explained patiently to Variel, listing its components. Reluctantly, Variel managed to scoop varied tidbits of cream onto her plate with the fork, before finally taking a bite. Her eyes widened in awe as she tasted all the flavors coming together in one magnificent fusion of sweetness, richness and tanginess. “Well this treat outrivals any dessert that I’m eating back at my home!” She exclaimed, overwhelmed by its magnificence. Everyone laughed at Variel's sudden change in opinion, and the atmosphere in the room lightened considerably. As they finished their dessert, the servants returned to collect their plates and clear the table. Richard stood up and addressed the group once more. "Alright everyone, we have a ball to attend in a few hours, so I suggest you all take a rest and prepare yourselves accordingly," he said, smiling at them all. The group dispersed, making their way to their respective chambers to freshen up and decide on their attire for the evening. Lucian made his way to his quarters, still savoring the flavor of the banana split and the words of Garett ringing in his head. "He would be a fine addition to the King's Vanguard!" The sound of your voice reverberates through the opulent hallway, slicing through Lucian's thoughts like a lightning bolt. His eyes widen in surprise, his body jerking with a sudden startle at the unexpected call. "<<print $player_name>>-san!" he exclaims, his voice a harmonious blend of astonishment and delight. With a fluid motion, he straightens his posture, the gracefulness of his movement speaking volumes about his composed nature. Placing a hand delicately over his chest, he bows before you, a gesture filled with respect and a hint of the deep connection you share. A playful glint dances in your eyes as you savor his startled reaction. A mischievous smile plays on your lips, and you can't resist teasing him, like a gentle breeze ruffling his composed exterior. "Well, well, Lucian. It seems I've caught you off guard. I had no idea my voice could send such delightful shivers down your spine." Lucian's laughter fills the air, a melody of nerves and genuine amusement. His cheeks take on a soft hue of pink, like a delicate blush painting a canvas of vulnerability. "You always find a way to surprise me, <<print $player_name>>-san. Your mere presence has the power to set my heart ablaze with an intoxicating rhythm." An eyebrow arches in feigned innocence, and you lean in slightly, relishing the enchanting dance of anticipation between you. "Is that so, Lucian? To think that I hold such sway over your heart." Lucian stammers, his gaze flickering nervously, as if trying to find the right words to express the jumble of emotions swirling within him. "I-I didn't mean it like that, <<print$player_name>>-san! I meant to convey that your talent as an author inspires and captivates me. Being in your presence is an honor I cherish deeply." Your chuckle resonates through the corridor, a gentle ripple of amusement. "Oh, Lucian, there's no need to be so flustered. I appreciate your heartfelt words. They mean the world to me." As Lucian attempts to regain his composure, a mischievous spark glimmers in your eyes, seizing the opportunity to playfully prod him further. "But I can't help but wonder, Lucian. Did I truly hear you confess that my very essence can quicken your pulse?" Wide-eyed, Lucian stumbles over his words once again, his cheeks a canvas of crimson. "N-No, <<print $player_name>>-san! It's not what you think! I simply meant..." Your laughter spills forth, a symphony of delight, as you gently pat Lucian's shoulder, feeling the warmth of his vulnerability radiate beneath your touch. "No need to explain, Lucian. I'll take it as a compliment, a testament to the connection we share." "Such a delightful sight!" Clara's voice chimes in, her expression a mix of excitement and playfulness as she watches the exchange, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, <<print $player_name>>, you certainly know how to stir up emotions in our dear Lucian!" Variel, on the other hand, remains aloof and disinterested, her attention fixed solely on her banana split. With a nonchalant tone, she adds her own comment to the mix. "Weakness, that's what I call it. But I suppose it's entertaining to witness such displays." Lucian's eyes dart around nervously as he edges towards his room, clearly eager to escape the situation. "I'm sorry everyone, it was great meeting you all, but I really have to go," he stammers, his words tumbling out in a hurried jumble. "Don't go, Lucian! <<print $player_name>> will be so lonely without you here," Clara chimes in, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. You chuckle at her comment, amused by the playful banter. "Don't worry, Clara. I can handle a little loneliness." But Lucian doesn't seem to share your sentiment, and you can see the reluctance etched on his face. "I'm sorry, <<print $player_name>>-san, but I really should be going," he says again, his voice tinged with regret. You nod understandingly, not wanting to pressure him. "Of course, Lucian. We'll see you soon." As Lucian hurries away, you can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment at his sudden departure. Despite his shyness and meek demeanor, he had a certain charm that drew you in. Clara's voice breaks through your reverie. "Aww, he's so cute when he's flustered. Don't worry, <<print $player_name>>. We'll find another way to keep you entertained," she says with a wink. You laugh and shake your head, feeling grateful for the lively company. "I have no doubt about that, Clara. You always know how to keep things interesting." Variel rolls her eyes, looking bored with the whole situation. "I'm gonna go as well! I have better things to do than watch you two flirt with each other." she says and leaving. Clara's melodic laughter fills the air as she playfully nudges you. "Looks like it's just you and me now, <<print $player_name>>," she teases, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes. You can't help but smile at her infectious energy. "Sorry, Clara, but I really need to get some sleep," you reply, stifling a yawn and waving goodbye. She feigns a pout, her lips curling into a playful smirk. "Oh, what a shame! I was hoping for some more quality time with you," she quips, her voice laced with mock disappointment. You chuckle, appreciating her sense of humor. "Well, Clara, I guess you'll have to settle for your own entertaining company for now." She throws her head back, laughing melodically, before regaining her composure. "I suppose so. But don't think you can escape me that easily, <<print $player_name>>. We'll have our fun another time." With that playful threat lingering in the air, Clara gracefully bids her farewell and begins to make her exit. As she walks away, her vibrant presence lingers, leaving a sense of joy and liveliness in her wake. You watch her go, a mixture of amusement and fondness in your gaze. Clara had a way of bringing a spark to any gathering, and you were grateful for her infectious spirit. But for now, the allure of a good night's rest beckons, and you begin to make your way towards your own quarters. You found yourself wandering through the intricate halls, a sea of opulence and grandeur stretching before you. Lost in this labyrinth of luxury, you sought guidance, a flicker of hope in your eyes as you spotted a servant delicately dusting a collection of exquisite vases on a gilded shelf. Summoning your courage, you approached the servant, your voice filled with both politeness and a touch of desperation. "Excuse me, could you please point me in the direction of my quarters?" you asked, your words carrying a hint of urgency. The servant turned toward you, their eyes gleaming with a gentle kindness. "Of course! Follow me," they replied, bowing their head respectfully. With graceful steps, they led the way, guiding you through a labyrinth of turns and twists, each corridor seeming more splendid than the last. As you followed in their footsteps, your senses were overwhelmed by the symphony of opulence that surrounded you. The soft glow of shimmering chandeliers cascaded golden light upon the marble floors, illuminating the intricate carvings and tapestries adorning the walls. The air carried a hint of an exotic fragrance, a delicate blend of jasmine and sandalwood, filling your lungs with an intoxicating allure. Finally, the servant came to a halt, stopping before an ornate door that exuded an air of majesty. The craftsmanship on the door was a marvel to behold, intricate patterns and delicate motifs etched into the rich wood. The golden handle beckoned you, a promise of respite and tranquility behind its polished facade. With a final bow, the servant bid you a pleasant rest, their demeanor radiating a deep respect for your presence. Their departure left you standing alone, your hand reaching out to grasp the handle. As you turned it, the door creaked open, revealing a sight that stole your breath away. The room, bathed in soft, ethereal light, unfolded before you like a dream come to life. It was a sanctuary of elegance and indulgence, where every detail spoke of luxury and refinement. The towering canopy bed, draped in cascading silken curtains, beckoned you to surrender to its embrace. The plush velvet armchairs nestled by the window, overlooking a meticulously manicured garden, offered a haven for quiet contemplation. Intricate artwork adorned the walls, showcasing masterpieces that seemed to come alive under the golden glow of the sconces. Your senses were delighted by the symphony of textures and scents that enveloped the room. The lush carpet beneath your feet invited you to sink into its velvety depths, while the delicate fragrance of freshly picked flowers danced on the air, infusing the space with a touch of nature's beauty. With a contented sigh, you made your way to the bed, sinking into its plush embrace. The soft, silky sheets cocooned you in comfort, lulling you into a sense of relaxation. As your eyes fluttered closed, your mind began to drift, contemplating the upcoming ball. Excitement and anticipation swirled within you, a sense of wonder at what the night would bring. You couldn't help but imagine the exquisite dresses and fine suits that would adorn the guests, the intricate dance routines and the enchanting melodies of the orchestra. It would be a night of elegance and indulgence, a chance to forget the worries of the world and simply bask in the splendor of the moment. The images of vibrant gowns and impeccably tailored suits flickered in your mind, each figure adorned with sparkling jewels and a sense of regality. The ballroom itself materialized before you, its vast space transformed into a realm of enchantment. The soft melodies of the orchestra swirled in the air, their notes luring you into a world where every step was a dance and every glance held a hidden meaning. You wondered who would be in attendance, who would grace the ballroom with their presence. Would there be dignitaries from far-off lands, their exotic attire and mysterious allure adding an air of mystique to the festivities? For now you drift sleep, there's no use being tired thinking about it. [[Continue|Richard POV]]

//''(Richard's POV)''// As the night draped its velvety shroud over the room, an air of solitude settled around you, casting long shadows that danced in the dim candlelight. The once bustling hall, brimming with lively conversation and the clinking of glasses, now stood eerily silent, save for the faint echo of your own breath. Only two figures remained, stalwart allies in this sea of tranquility. Your weary form sank into the plushness of the chair, its velvet upholstery embracing you like a comforting embrace. The weight of the day's events settled in your bones. "Lee," you called out, your voice cutting through the silence with a commanding yet gentle tone. The sound hung in the air, a poignant reminder of the friendship that bound you together. "Please, do sit and partake in this modest feast. I must apologize for beginning without you. The excitement of the day overwhelmed me, and I forgot my manners." Leaning forward, Lee's gaze met yours with unwavering intensity as he gripped the cutlery firmly in his hands. His voice carried a deep reverence and loyalty that seemed to resonate within the very fibers of his being. "Your Majesty," he began, his words laced with humility, "There is no need for you to ask for forgiveness. If anything, it is I who should be seeking your pardon for any shortcomings on my part." You shook your head, a regal yet gentle gesture, dismissing his concerns. "Nonsense, Lee," you insisted, your voice resolute. As Lee poured himself a glass of wine, the rich crimson liquid cascading into the goblet, a momentary silence settled over the room. However, the weight of a pressing matter loomed heavily in your mind, pulling your attention away from the meal at hand. With a slight shift in your gaze, you focused your attention on Garett, who was engrossed in devouring his sandwich. Sensing the change in atmosphere, he paused mid-bite and set the half-eaten sandwich down on his plate, curiosity sparking in his eyes. Lee, too, ceased his eating, his attention fully directed towards you. "I have been informed about the incident involving Varus and Lucas," you stated, your voice firm and unyielding. Each word carried the weight of your authority and the fire of your indignation. The room seemed to tremble, the air thickening with an undercurrent of tension. A surge of anger coursed through your veins, fueled by the injustice and betrayal that had transpired. Your voice carried an edge, slicing through the air with razor-sharp precision. "Say the word, and I shall have Varus thrown into the dungeons, stripped of his nobility. No act of treachery should go unpunished." The room seemed to hold its breath as your words hung in the air, each syllable resonating with a righteous fury. The weight of your words carried the authority of a sovereign, the power to enact justice and maintain order. Lee couldn't help but interject with a quip, his voice laced with a touch of amusement. "Looks like Your Majesty's ears are as sharp as ever," he remarked, a hint of a chuckle escaping his lips. A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, a brief respite from the gravity of the situation. "Well, Lee, the Eyes may report to my wife, but they also report to me," you replied, emphasizing your role in the intricate web of information that governed the kingdom. Gripping a handful of nuts, you conveyed a sense of control, the decisive nature of a ruler who would not be deceived. Garett straightened his posture, his eyes brimming with gratitude as he absorbed your unwavering support. His voice carried a mixture of reverence and wisdom, a testament to the weight of his words. "There is no need for your Grace to intervene. Both Lucas and I have found it in our hearts to forgive Varus. As my son wisely pointed out, we must consider the consequences of our actions. We must not burden the daughter with the sins of the father," he spoke with sagacity, his words resonating with a profound understanding of the complexities of human nature. Your expression softened, a flicker of appreciation crossing your features. "Very well, Garett. Should your perspective change, should the need arise, know that my door is open to you," you responded graciously, acknowledging the deep bond and unwavering loyalty that had existed between your families for generations. A sense of profound gratitude welled within you, grateful for the protection and devotion that Garett's family had extended to yours throughout the ages. "For your family's enduring commitment to safeguarding mine, and for your son's steadfast protection of my daughter, I offer my heartfelt thanks," you continued, your voice filled with genuine warmth. Popping an almond into your mouth, you savored the nut's crunch, allowing a moment of respite amidst the weight of the conversation. Garett nodded, a glimmer of respect shining in his eyes. "Of course, Your Majesty," he replied, his voice carrying the weight of loyalty that had bound your families together. "Now, let us turn our attention to another pressing matter," you declared, drawing in a deep breath to steady your nerves. The name Variel escaped your lips, its mere utterance sending a shiver down your spine. "Following the grand ball, we shall proceed with the long-awaited hearing. My wife has sent word," you announced, your voice filled with a mix of determination and anticipation. With a resounding clap of your hands. A figure emerged from the shadows, moving silently towards you. They gracefully lowered themselves to the ground, their posture a sign of utmost respect. "Your Grace, a message from Her Majesty," the figure spoke, offering you a scroll with outstretched hands. You accepted it with gratitude, acknowledging the weight of the message that lay within its confines. "Thank you Sarah!" The figure, known as Sarah, stood upright, the billowing black cloak adding an air of mystery to her presence. "Her Majesty wishes me to observe from the shadows, and I seek your permission to commence," Sarah requested with reverence, understanding the importance of her role in the unfolding events. "You are granted permission to fulfill your mission," you responded, your voice carrying a sense of authority and trust. Without uttering another word, Sarah gracefully dissolved into the shadows, her departure as enigmatic as her arrival. The air seemed to ripple with her departure, leaving a lingering sense of intrigue in her wake. The presence of the Eyes, the secretive group entrusted with observing and safeguarding the realm. "They always give me the creeps," Lee confessed, his voice tinged with a hint of unease. His words echoed the sentiments shared by many who encountered the Eyes, an organization known for their clandestine nature and unwavering loyalty. You held the scroll tightly in your hands, your eyes scanning the words written by your beloved wife. The weight of her absence bore heavily upon you, and each line seemed to echo with a sense of urgency and determination. "My dearest Richard," you began, your voice tinged with a mixture of longing and concern. "I apologize for my unavoidable delay in attending the hearing regarding the dragoness. However, rest assured that I am doing everything in my power to resolve the matters at hand swiftly." The words on the scroll seemed to come alive as you read them aloud, the emotions behind each phrase palpable. The mention of Sarah, the enigmatic figure who had just departed, sparked curiosity within your companions, their eyes fixed on you as they listened intently. "Sarah," you continued, your voice filled with admiration. "Her silence may mask her true nature, but never doubt her unwavering loyalty. She shall serve as my ambassador, and I have given her strict instructions to keep you informed of her actions and whereabouts." The room fell into a hushed silence as the gravity of the situation sank in. The intricate dance of power and alliances, the delicate threads that held your kingdom together, seemed to hang in the balance. You could feel the weight of your wife's plea for strength and love, a prayer whispered across the distance that separated you. Tension filled the air as you spoke of the impending duel, your voice resonating with a mix of determination and concern. "King Lucious," you murmured, his name laced with both frustration and a glimmer of hope. "Tomorrow, I shall challenge him to a duel. If my words cannot pierce the veil of his ignorance, perhaps a defeat at my hand will bring clarity to his judgment." The weight of impending conflict settled upon your shoulders, the duel destined to shape the course of the kingdom's future. But amidst the turmoil, a glimmer of warmth emerged as your wife's final words revealed a moment of tenderness. "Oh, one more thing," she wrote, her thoughts shifting to brighter horizons. "Please convey my regards to Garett and Lee, and offer them my best wishes for their upcoming marriage." As you finished reading the letter, a silence settled over the room. You couldn't help but feel a mixture of emotions - worry for your wife's safety, anger towards the idiotic King Lucious, and admiration for your wife's bravery. "Gods be with her," Garett spoke, breaking the silence. "She is not one to be trifled with." "Indeed," you agreed, feeling a sense of pride for your wife's strength. "But we must be prepared for anything. Sarah will be our guest on my kingdom so try to accomodate her." you say and rubbing your face fatigue setting in. "I suggest you get some rest your Majesty!" Lee muses. You rise from your seat with a smirk, the laughter of Lee ringing through the throne room. "Very well then, I shall leave you two to your own devices." Lee takes hold of Garett's hand in a gentle embrace and looks into his eyes. His voice drops to a sultry tone as he continues, "Oh I assure you we will catch up on recent events." He winks suggestively at Garett who chuckles in response. Reaching over with his free hand, Garett takes hold of Lee's and presses a tender kiss upon his knuckles. His deep brown eyes peering into Lee's soul. "So blunt, yet such a charmer!" He smiles sweetly and pulls Lee closer with a coy smirk. You take a few steps away, but just before you go, your voice lingers in the air like honey. "Just call the servants if you're done so that they can clean up--but try not to make too much of a mess here!" You laugh, spinning around, and see Lee and Garett looking at each other with adoration that robs the air of oxygen. They both chuckle and Garett says with certainty, "Can't promise that your Majesty! We'll do our best." You beam at their mock obedience, "Good enough for me!" You float away, leaving them to their private bliss. [[Continue|Ball time]]

Your dreams were filled with vivid fantasies when a faint knocking from the door interrupted them. You groaned and rolled over, trying to stay in that state between dreaming and waking. But the voice outside your door, which called out your name, forced you to bolt up from your bed, eagerness sweeping through you. "<<print $player_name>>! I'm here to help you prepare for the ball!" The words hit your core like thunder and all at once, nervousness and excitement filled every inch of your being. Your eyes widened and a gasp escaped your lips as the reality set in: tonight was the big night. You were going to the ball. You quickly scamper towards the door and open the it. The maid smiled at you. "I apologize but the King ordered me to prepare his guest so here's your clothes and some fragrance and perfumes." as she says the words a couple of other servants entered the room and carrying what the maid says. Then they all put atop on your bed oraganized, there are many assortments of dress, gowns, suits and some jewelry to complete the look. Then your eyes caught of the fragrnace and perfumes, you reach for one and splrut onto your wrist the smeel almsot knock you out unconsionce for being so potent. "We will be taking our leave now and a sevant will be up momentarily to delier your hot bath water." she says bwoing her head and the other servants bow their head also and leaving your room in a line. You pause and think to yourself as you take a closer inspection of your attire, your shoulders coated with layers of grime. Did you really present yourself this way in front of the King? With an incredulous shake of your head, you slowly raise your arms up, taking hesitant sniffs of the horrific odor that emanated from them. "Damn!", you whisper under your breath, before letting out a little chuckle at the hilarity of it all. A knock at the door sent a thundering echo through the room, breaking through your serene trance. You called out to them and two servants entered the room carrying two tubs of crystal blue water with steam coming out. Its glimmer sparkled in the rays of moonlight that shined through the windows. As they placed them onto the floor, you could feel its crisp coolness wash over your feet. The servants gave you a courteous bow before departing. With no sound but the whirring of cicadas outside, you undressed yourself, feeling every ounce of stress being shed from your body as you did so. As if in a trance, you cupped a handful of fragrant soap in your hands and slowly allowed it to dissolve into the water. A tantalizing aroma filled the air. You sank into the tub, feeling the water envelop you in its warmth. It was like a balm to your soul, soothing your nerves and easing your tension. You closed your eyes, letting your mind wander as your body soaked in the water. As you lay there, you couldn't help but think about the ball once again. What kind of people would you meet? What kind of conversations would you have? Would you be able to keep up with the grandeur and sophistication of the event? You couldn’t help but imagine yourself as the belle of the ball, turning heads with your grace and beauty. But as the minutes ticked by, the heat of the water began to wane. You reluctantly pulled yourself out of the tub, feeling the chill of the air hit your skin. Drying yourself off, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within you . You knew that tonight would be a night to remember, a night where you would have the chance to mingle with the elite of the kingdom and show them just how much of an impact you could make. Your eyes eagerly devour the garments spread out before you, noting each subtle nuance as you search for the perfect outfit to don. Every detail matters; it could quite possibly be one of the most important decisions you have ever made, for what you choose will determine your entrance into the ball. You narrow down your selection to two stunning ensembles - a suit and a gown. The suit is a work of art, its craftsmanship alone speaks of its regal elegance. The midnight-blue fabric is woven with a delicate silver thread that exudes an opulent shimmer. The jacket hugs your frame in all the right places, highlighting your form unbearably sensuously while accentuating your curves delicately. The lapels, encrusted with sparkling beads, capture the cerulean moonlight making sure that you are the centre of attention wherever you go. As you touch the jacket's smooth texture, a surge of anticipation rushes through your body as images of yourself dancing gracefully under the moonlight in this very suit fill your mind. The gown was a breathtaking symphony of craftsmanship and style. From the first glance, it beckoned for admiration with its intricate layers billowing down like white rapids, draping your figure in a magically elegant way. Glimmering silver fabric shimmered like an enchanted pool of moonlight, while the bodice was delicately laced with ornate appliqués that hinted at a formidable allure. The suit and dress both had an undeniable air of mystery and daring that elevated them from ordinary formal apparel. As you held each one up against yourself, you felt intensely alive—you knew that it was not just pieces of clothing anymore, but fiery expressions of confidence. These garments showcased your unique character, allowing you to captivate and draw attention as you walked among celestial spheres on this night of enchantment. A thrill surged through your veins as you made your final decision. Your outfit would be your silent weapon, sparking admiration wherever you went. You could feel the anticipation coursing in your veins as you prepared to make your mark and leave a mesmerizing impression of wonder and awe. <<cycle "$clothe" autoselect>> <<option "suit">> <<option "gown">> <</cycle>> [[Continue|MC looks]]

You pick the $clothe as your attire for the event, so you set aside the rejected clothes and place the $clothe where you can easily find it later. Now, you walked towards a mirror and your reflection greets you on the smooth glass. //''(Note: You got some quality clothes now, let's try to capture how you look like? You will customize your MC now!)''// Using your hands you fix your? <<cycle "$hair" autoselect>> <<option "shaved">> <<option "very short">> <<option "short">> <<option "shoulder-length">> <<option "braided">> <</cycle>> Then while moving your hair you accidently pluck it and seeing your hair is? <<cycle "$hairtype" autoselect>> <<option "straight">> <<option "curly">> <<option "frizzy">> <<option "wavy">> <<option "coily">> <</cycle>> Grabbing a comb from a table, you gently glide your beatiful and vibrant? <<cycle "$haircolor" autoselect>> <<option "brown">> <<option "auburn">> <<option "blond">> <<option "caramel">> <<option "black">> <<option "white">> <</cycle>> Next, you look at your eyes which the color of? <<cycle "$eye" autoselect>> <<option "blue">> <<option "amber">> <<option "hazel">> <<option "black">> <<option "green">> <<option "grey">> <</cycle>> Then look at your skin and wiping some imaginary dust, the bath water done wonders for your? <<cycle "$skin" autoselect>> <<option "pale">> <<option "beige">> <<option "tan">> <<option "light brown">> <<option "brown">> <<option "dark brown">> <<option "almost black">> <</cycle>> Grabbing your $clothe and donning it own, the sight that greets you take your breath your away. A figure is smiling back at you from the mirror. It's? <<cycle "$gender" autoselect>> <<option "male">> <<option "woman">> <<option "person">> <</cycle>> [[Continue|Final set]]

The $gender beamed at you, clad in ?mctheir $clothe that hugged ?mctheir body perfectly. ?mcTheir $hair and $hairtype hair cascaded down ?mctheir head like a waterfall of gold, shimmering and glinting in the moonlight. The highlights of warmth complemented ?mctheir features giving ?mcthem a celestial aura. ?mcTheir $eye eyes were blazing with intensity, filled with fire and devotion that seemed to send sparks that flew around them. Not to mention ?mctheir $haircolor hair completes the look of regal and nobility. Despite the fabric covering ?mctheir $skin skin, you knew it would shine like precious rubies and twinkle like pearls as they descended down ?mctheir collarbone. You wanted to reach out and touch ?mcthem, but words couldn't express the beauty that radiated from within. The finishing touches made, you grab a deep breath and step out of your room with your head held high. You find the same maid waiting for you outside the entrance, her eyes wide in wonderment at the sight before her. "You look splendid!" she gasps, bowing her head in respect. "My name is Sam, nice to meet you." She takes a step forward, holding out a hand towards the long corridor ahead of you. "Let me guide you to the main event!", she says and proceeds down the hallway, leaving you to follow after her. Traversing through numerous turns and twists, it feels like this place is an endless labyrinth filled with secrets. Eventually, Sam stops in front of two grand and magnificent looking doors. "Just step inside and announce your name to the orator," she bow once more. "I wish you all the best tonight!" With a wave of her hand, she walks away from your presence into the shadows of the hallways. "Thank you!", you call out from behind her. A faint smile reaches her lips as she calls back over her shoulder, "You're welcome!". As the ornate doors swing open, a surge of anticipation courses through your veins. The grand ballroom unfolds before you, a tapestry of opulence and splendor. The air is alive with the enchanting melodies of a symphony, their harmonies weaving a spellbinding ambiance. Each note resonates within you, igniting a symphony of emotions that dances in perfect synchrony with the rhythm. The ballroom is a vision of breathtaking beauty, bathed in a soft, ethereal glow. Sparkling chandeliers hang from the high ceiling, casting cascades of shimmering light upon the polished marble floor. The room is adorned with intricate carvings and gilded accents, a testament to the craftsmanship that went into its creation. It is a setting fit for royalty, a stage where dreams are realized and legends are born. As your gaze sweeps across the room, you are captivated by the sight of elegantly attired guests. Their attire is a testament to the exquisite taste and meticulous attention to detail that defines this soirée. Gowns of flowing silk and satin adorn the ladies, their hues ranging from ethereal pastels to bold, vibrant shades that catch the light with every movement. The suits worn by the gentlemen are tailored to perfection, their lines accentuating their powerful presence. The room becomes a tapestry of colors and textures, an exhibition of sheer elegance. The orator's voice reverberates through the grand hall, demanding attention. "Name please!" he declares, his commanding tone cutting through the melodic symphony. You draw a deep breath, your voice steady yet filled with anticipation. "<<print$player_name>>," you respond, the words carrying a weight that seems to ripple through the room. The orator's voice rises once more, his words carrying an air of reverence and awe. "<<print $player_name>>, The Dragon Tamer!" As the title is pronounced, time seems to momentarily halt. Conversations cease, dancers freeze mid-step, and all eyes converge upon you. The collective gasp of the crowd resonates, an echo of their admiration and fascination. Breaking the spell, you extend a hand in greeting, a smile gracing your lips. The room, once filled with a heavy silence, suddenly comes alive. The musicians, as if awakened from a deep slumber, resume their enchanting melodies, coaxing the dancers to sway and twirl once more. The guests, inspired by your presence, immerse themselves in the magic of the evening, the pulsating energy restored. As the music fills the air, a figure emerges from the crowd, gracefully making his way towards you. It's Lee, the most awaited and famous individual of the evening. Dressed in a stunning white dress that accentuates every curve of his athletic frame, he commands attention with his mere presence. The fabric clings to his form, revealing his sculpted physique in a way that leaves no doubt about his dedication to physical fitness. Your eyes are drawn to Lee's legs, which are meticulously hairless and adorned with a faint blush of red blemishes. The absence of hair accentuates the smoothness of his skin, giving them an ethereal glow. It's evident that he has put effort into perfecting his appearance for this grand occasion. Lee's once unruly hair, which you recall from your first meeting, is now transformed into a sleek pixie cut that shimmers under the glow of the ballroom lights. As your gaze roams over Lee's striking ensemble, you find yourself momentarily lost in admiration. The white dress, with its delicate detailing and form-fitting design, enhances Lee's natural beauty and radiates an air of elegance. The dress serves as a canvas, allowing his vibrant personality and alluring charm to shine through. Caught in the rapture of your observation, Lee playfully interrupts your reverie with a mischievous chuckle. "My eyes are up here, <<print$player_name>>!" he quips, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. You find yourself laughing, feeling a surge of delight in the air. "I must admit, this unexpected sight has caught me off guard!" Lee joins you in your laughter, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ah, but that's the beauty of our hidden world," he says, his voice tinged with a sense of intrigue. "Behind closed doors, you'd be amazed by the plays that Garett and I put on, and the extravagant costumes we wear, away from prying eyes." A grin tugs at your lips as you playfully respond, "Oh, Lee, I have no doubt that you and Garett have a flair for dramatics. I can only imagine the mesmerizing spectacles you create together." Lee's expression turns slightly pensive, a touch of worry flickering across his face. "Indeed, Garett and I share a deep connection," he confesses. "But I do hope to evoke the same reaction in him that you had upon seeing me tonight." You reach out and place a reassuring hand on Lee's arm. "Fear not, my friend. Love has a way of unveiling hidden marvels in each of us. I have no doubt that Garett will be captivated by your enchanting presence, just as I am." A playful glimmer returns to Lee's eyes as he responds with a smirk, "Well, let's hope my attire doesn't steal all the attention from him. Wouldn't want to be dancing all the night away!" With tears of laughter still glistening in his eyes, Lee wipes them away and slings an arm over your shoulder. The sight of his smooth and meticulously groomed armpits brings a smile to your face. "Enough about me!" he declares, a playful tone infusing his words. "Who will be your partner for the rest of the night?" Before you can even utter a response, he cuts you off. Without missing a beat, Lee guides you through the bustling crowd, each step revealing a hidden tableau of personalities and desires. "Variel, there, drowning her boredom in wine since the ball began," Lee points out, a mischievous chuckle escaping his lips. You follow his gaze and see Variel, exuding an air of nonchalant disdain as her eyes sweep over the assembled guests. Moving through the throng, Lee leads you to another corner. "And there's Lucas, trying his utmost not to unleash his frustrations with every person who dares approach him for a dance," Lee remarks, a hint of sympathy in his voice. Your eyes land on Lucas, who wears a strained smile as a queue of eager dancers forms before him. A shake of the head accompanies Lee's next observation. "Ah, Clara, our beloved princess. She may dance with everyone, but her eyes betray a yearning for something more," he laments. You catch a glimpse of Clara, her movements graceful and fluid, yet her gaze searching for a connection beyond the superficialities of the evening. With a knowing smirk, Lee turns your attention to the final member of their circle. "And lastly, dear Lucian, completely oblivious to every amorous advance directed his way. He truly is a rare specimen of cluelessness," Lee remarks with a mixture of amusement and sympathy. As if on cue, a woman purposefully drops her fan in front of Lucian, her eyes filled with desire as he obliviously retrieves it. The ballroom becomes a stage, each character playing their part in this grand drama of temptations and missed connections. The air crackles with unspoken emotions, hidden intentions, and the search for genuine connection. Through Lee's astute observations and witty commentary, you catch glimpses of the intricate web woven by human hearts. Lee's arm tightens around your shoulder, and his voice lowers to a conspiratorial whisper. "So, my dear friend, with this captivating cast before you, who shall be the lucky soul to share your dance tonight? Choose wisely, for there is more to this enchanting evening than meets the eye." ''//(Note: Hey I know you're very excited I mean with Lee's sale pitch who wouldn't haha. However you must listen to me pick one partner and this partner will be your company for the whole evening. Also don't worry the romance will not be lock. So pick to your heart's desires. Plus, the dialogues will be limited or no dialogues at all due to I want you to sit back and enjoy the show ;)//'' [[Choose Variel]] [[Choose Lucas]] [[Choose Lucian]] [[Choose Clara]]

''//Chapter 3.2: Thriller Night//'' ''//(Note: So predictable I don't even know why I should even ask you who to choose Reader? Oh well the die is cast and so you better make the most out of it. Oh one more thing I'm sure you gonna like the scene later. N showtime partner, he yah!)//'' As you approach Variel, the flickering candlelight casts a warm glow on her figure. The transformation in her attire catches your eye, as her blue corset has been replaced by a stunning red dress that hugs her curves perfectly. The fabric shimmers under the ambient light, exuding an air of confidence and allure. Variel's eyes lock with yours, her eyebrow arching mischievously as a smirk dances on her lips. "Look what the cat dragged in!" Variel's voice carries a hint of playfulness, a taunting tone that sends a thrill through the air. Her remark is accompanied by a light chuckle, as if she's enjoying the sight of your presence. The tension between the two of you is palpable, a mix of familiarity and lingering sparks of unfinished business. Closing the distance between you, Variel leans in slightly, her voice laced with an undercurrent of intrigue. "Well, well, well, if it isn't <<print$player_name>>," she purrs, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "What brings you to my corner of the ballroom tonight?" You can't help but be drawn in by Variel's magnetic presence, her confidence oozing from every pore. She has a way of commanding attention without even trying, and it's clear that she revels in it. The subtle tilt of her head and the playful glint in her eyes make it clear that she's ready for some banter, ready to engage in verbal sparring with you. With a smirk of your own, you meet Variel's gaze head-on. "Oh, you know me," you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just couldn't resist the allure of your company, Variel." Her laughter fills the air, a melodic sound that cuts through the background noise of the ballroom. "Well, I can't say I blame you," she quips, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. "I do have a way of making even the most mundane of evenings more exciting." Curiosity piqued, you decide to engage Variel in a conversation, wanting to unravel the mystery behind her choice to remain on the sidelines amidst the swirling dance floor. With a quizzical look, you gesture toward the lively action behind you. "Oh? Then may I ask why you are not dancing with the others?" you inquire, a playful glint in your eyes as you await her response. Variel takes a sip from her glass, her delicate fingers gracefully holding the crystal stem. She swirls the deep red liquid inside, the wine's hues mirroring the fiery intensity in her gaze. With an air of disapproval, she sets the glass down and looks at you. "The wine you Humans have lacks strength!" Variel's voice carries a note of disdain. Her dissatisfaction is evident, as if the mere thought of inferior wine offends her refined palate. You can't help but chuckle at her remark, finding amusement in her candidness. "Then why are you still drinking it?" you retort, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Variel arches an eyebrow, a playful smirk gracing her face. "Ah, well, it's better than nothing, isn't it?" she replies, her tone dripping with dry wit. It's clear that she finds amusement in the irony of the situation, partaking in a beverage that fails to meet her lofty standards but still finding some solace in it. The orator's voice booms through the grand hall, commanding everyone's attention. "Attention, everyone! For this special occasion, we have a remarkable band that will enchant us with their music. Please give a resounding applause for ''//Noir's Company!"//'' The room erupts with thunderous applause and cheers, filling the air with an electric energy. The band members take their positions on the stage, their instruments poised to create a symphony that will sweep the crowd off their feet. A hush falls over the crowd as the singer's voice fills the room, the words carrying a hauntingly beautiful melody. The spotlight illuminates the figure on the stage, their face concealed behind a blank porcelain mask, lending an air of mystery and intrigue to their persona. This enigmatic presence commands attention, their voice capturing the hearts of all who listen. "I want to dedicate this song to all the thrill seekers out there," the singer's voice resonates, infused with emotion that reaches deep into the souls of the listeners. ''//(Note: Hey the song will be written down here and if you want you can play the music while reading or sing along. Lady In Red By Chris De Burgh )''// ''//I've never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight, I've never seen you shine so bright, I've never seen so many men ask you if you wanted to dance, They're looking for a little romance, given half a chance, And I have never seen that dress you're wearing, Or the highlights in your hair that catch your eyes, I have been blind;//'' You can feel Variel's grip on your hand tighten as she drags you to the dance floor. You stumble a bit in your heels, but manage to regain your balance just in time. As you reach the dance floor, you notice that everyone is moving in sync to the music, swaying their hips and twirling around gracefully. Variel pulls you closer to her and places a hand on your waist, pulling you in to match her steps. Her movements are graceful and effortless, as if she has been dancing her whole life. You follow her lead, trying your best to keep up with her. As the music picks up, Variel starts to spin you around in circles, her eyes never leaving yours. "Not bad for a little mouse," she smirks, "But you still have a lot to learn." ''//The lady in red is dancing with me, cheek to cheek, There's nobody here, it's just you and me, It's where I want to be, But I hardly know this beauty by my side, I'll never forget the way you look tonight;''// As you find yourselves amidst the swirling sea of dancers, the air becomes charged with an electric energy. Variel's presence beside you is intoxicating, her every movement a tantalizing blend of grace and poise. Her steps are confident and precise, effortlessly gliding across the floor, and you find yourself matching her rhythm, becoming one with the dance. The onlookers watch in awe as you and Variel become the embodiment of elegance and passion. The intricate footwork, the twirls, and the dips—each motion is executed with finesse, a testament to the seamless connection you share on the dance floor. ''//I've never seen you looking so gorgeous as you did tonight, I've never seen you shine so bright, you were amazing, I've never seen so many people want to be there by your side, And when you turned to me and smiled, it took my breath away, And I have never had such a feeling, Such a feeling of complete and utter love, as I do tonight;//'' Variel's voice, laced with a velvety seduction, reaches your ear amidst the music. "Tell me, little mouse, what's the big deal about this dancing spectacle that seems to enrapture everyone?" Her words carry a playful challenge, a desire to unravel the secrets that lie beneath the surface of this grand event. With a smile, you respond, your voice blending with the harmonious notes of the music. "It's more than just movement and steps. It's a language without words, an expression of emotion and connection. In each sway and turn, there's a story waiting to be told, a moment of pure bliss where time seems to stand still." Variel's eyes sparkle with intrigue, her lips curling into a knowing smile. "Ah, I see," she murmurs, her voice barely audible above the music. "Perhaps there is more to this dance than meets the eye." ''//The lady in red is dancing with me, cheek to cheek, There's nobody here, it's just you and me, It's where I want to be, But I hardly know this beauty by my side, I'll never forget the way you look tonight; I never will forget the way you look tonight... The lady in red, the lady in red, The lady in red, my lady in red, I love you...//'' Together, you continue to glide across the floor, the world around you fading into a blur of colors and lights. The spectators are captivated by the effortless chemistry between you and Variel, their gazes following your every move. Whispers of admiration and intrigue fill the air, mingling with the melodic strains of the music. As the dance reaches its crescendo, Variel leans in close, her warm breath caressing your cheek. "Thank you for showing me the beauty within this seemingly ordinary spectacle." With a final twirl and a dip, the dance comes to a breathtaking conclusion. The applause erupts around you, a thunderous ovation for the enchanting performance that has left the crowd spellbound. And then, a moment of levity amidst the emotional intensity as the singer adds a touch of humor. "By the way, I'm N," they announce, their voice filled with a playful tone. "If anyone wants my autograph after the show, don't be shy!" A ripple of laughter echoes through the hall, a brief respite from the emotional journey that the song has taken everyone on. The singer, N, takes a bow, their masked face turned towards the crowd, as if acknowledging the shared experience they have just embarked upon. As they left the stage another band takes their spot and started playing music. "Come with me <<print$player_name>>!" Variel says and dragging you again by the hand. Following Variel's lead, you find yourselves whisked away from the bustling ballroom and into the serene embrace of the moonlit gardens. The air is crisp, scented with the delicate fragrance of blooming flowers, and the distant melody of the music weaves its way through the gentle breeze. Hand in hand, Variel guides you through a labyrinth of enchanting beauty, the colorful petals of the flowers brushing against your skin like whispers of nature's secrets. The moon casts a soft glow, casting ethereal shadows on the path before you. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Variel leads you deeper into the maze, her steps graceful and assured. The sounds of laughter and conversation fade into the distance, replaced by the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of nocturnal creatures. At last, you emerge from the maze and find yourselves standing before a magnificent fountain, its cascading waters sparkling in the moonlight. The cool mist from the fountain kisses your skin, awakening a sense of tranquility within you. Variel releases your hand, her eyes dancing with a playful gleam. "Ah, the beauty of seclusion," she muses, her voice carrying a touch of mystery. "Here, in the embrace of nature's symphony, we can escape the pretenses and expectations of the ballroom." You can't help but chuckle at her remark, the tension of the evening dissipating in the serene surroundings. "Indeed, a welcome reprieve from the dance floor drama," you reply, a twinkle of amusement in your eyes. As you take a moment to soak in the atmosphere, Variel steps closer to the fountain, her gaze fixed on the dancing waters. "Isn't it fascinating?" she murmurs, her voice filled with wonder. "Water, so fluid and ever-changing, yet so constant in its essence. It mirrors the complexities of our own lives, don't you think?" You laugh at her words. "I never thought that you will be a philosopher!" A mischievous glimmer lights up Variel's eyes as she chuckles in response. "Oh, my dear little mouse, there's more to me than meets the eye. Don't be fooled by appearances." In a swift and seamless motion, Variel snaps her fingers, and the air crackles with an electrifying energy. Time seems to pause for a heartbeat as her form begins to shift and transform, defying the laws of nature. The fabric of her dress ripples and twists, morphing into shimmering feathers that cascade down her body. Before you stands not the elegant noblewoman you once knew, but a creature of majestic wonder—a griffin. With a graceful flick of her powerful wings, the majestic creature takes up the space that Variel once occupied, her feathers glistening in the moonlight. Your eyes widen in awe as you take in the sight before you. The griffin's form is a mesmerizing blend of strength and beauty, her regal presence commanding attention and respect. Her wings, vast and mighty, stretch out to their full extent, casting a magnificent shadow over the fountain and the surrounding garden. "I must admit, I do enjoy the occasional transformation," the griffin's voice resonates with a melodic harmony, both captivating and ethereal. "It allows me to explore different aspects of my existence, to embrace the boundless possibilities that lie beyond the confines of a single form." You find yourself caught between wonder and disbelief, your heart pounding with exhilaration. The garden around you seems to hold its breath, as if in reverence of the mythical creature standing before you. The griffin takes a few steps closer, her gaze fixed on you with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. "Little mouse, there is more to this world and you're not still able to scratch the surface," she whispers, her voice carrying a tantalizing hint of mystery. "Would you dare to venture?" she ask. You can't help but be drawn in by her words, by the allure of the unknown that lingers in the air. The possibility of embarking on an adventure beyond imagination beckons to you, and with a surge of courage, you take a step forward. A playful glint returns to the griffin's eyes as she extends a massive wing, inviting you to climb upon her back. "Hold on tight, little mouse," she says, her voice tinged Your heart pounds in your chest as you grasp onto the griffin's magnificent form, feeling the warmth of her feathers beneath your fingertips. With a surge of adrenaline and a mix of trepidation and excitement coursing through your veins, you position yourself securely, wrapping your arms tightly around her powerful body. Variel, in her griffin form, emits a mischievous chuckle that reverberates through the night air. "Oh, one more thing, little mouse," she says with a sly grin. "Abandon hope, all ye who ride upon my back!" ''(Intermission)'' "Woah hold your horses Readers I know you want to have some sight seeing with Variel but of course what's a ride without any music? "So N any ideas?" "Hmmm!" N ponders. "I got it Author!" Then N begins to sing. ''//I can show you the world Shining, shimmering, splendid Tell me, little mouse, now when did you last let your heart decide? I can open your eyes Take you wonder by wonder Over, sideways and under on a magic griffen ride?//'' "To cliche'!" "Try singing Stuck On You By Stellar, suiting for how our Readers is reading that our MC is litteraly clinging to Variel's back." "Copy that Author!" N salutes. "Now let's continue with your joyride Readers!" ''(Resume)'' ''//I think I'm stuck on you Like it's déjà vu Baby whatchu do to my heart I think I'm stuck on you Like it's déjà vu Or a new tattoo, on my arm//'' As you and Variel soar through the ink-black sky, the moon casts its gentle glow upon the world below. The soft radiance bathes the landscape in a luminescent embrace, revealing the contours of rolling hills, glittering rivers, and majestic forests. The wind whistles in your ears as you ride on Variel's back, her wings slicing through the air with a graceful power. Each beat of her wings resonates with a symphony of freedom and adventure, carrying you higher and higher into the star-studded expanse above. ''//You look so good, didn't mean to stare In and out I'ma need some air Cuz you got me dazed and confused, yeah Quit playing games baby, don't you dare Tell me that you're unaware That I have been falling for you, yeah//'' The thrill of the moment courses through your veins, mingling with a heady mix of awe and exhilaration. The world stretches out before you like an endless tapestry, inviting you to explore its hidden corners and secret treasures. You can't help but feel a surge of gratitude for this extraordinary experience, for the chance to witness the world from such extraordinary heights. Variel's majestic form commands the sky, her presence both awe-inspiring and comforting. Her griffin wings, stretched wide and resplendent, catch the moonlight and reflect it in a mesmerizing display. With every powerful stroke, she propels you forward, faster and further, her immense strength a testament to the untamed spirit within her. ''//Oh oh, she got me doin' things I never do Oh oh, let me tell the truth//'' In the midst of this breathtaking flight, Variel turns her head, her eyes gleaming with a mix of mischief and wonder. "Hold on tight, little mouse," she says with a playful grin. "We're about to kick things up a notch!" And with those words, she transforms back to her human form. Variel wave her hand and soon the both of you a spiraling down towards the ground, you and Variel spins in the air with a smirk on her face. ''//I think I'm stuck on you Like it's déjà vu Baby whatchu do to my heart I think I'm stuck on you Like it's déjà vu Or a new tattoo, on my arm''// Crackmouth remarks escape your lips amidst the adrenaline-fueled excitement. "I hope you've got this under control, Variel!" you shout over the rushing wind, a hint of teasing lacing your words. "I didn't sign up for a crash landing!" Variel's chuckle reverberates through the air, blending seamlessly with the rush of wind and the beat of your racing hearts. "Ye of little faith!" she retorts, her voice infused with both amusement and confidence. ''//Honestly, if I must confess I might be just a bit obsessed With you and you're Gucci perfume, yeah You got me dressin' my best Wearing my chain and my vest You know I'd do nothing less For you''// With a daring swoop, Variel descends beneath you, effortlessly transforming back into her majestic griffin form. As she glides between your legs, you find yourself once again seated atop her back, ready to embark on another exhilarating flight. Variel's wings unfurl with a powerful sweep, propelling you forward into a new adventure. This time, Variel takes you on a daring journey through a dense forest, maneuvering through the labyrinthine tangle of branches and leaves. The foliage brushes against your skin, the unforgiving branches leaving their mark as you navigate the maze of nature's embrace. "Variel!" you exclaim, shielding your face from the onslaught of greenery. The quips remarks escape your lips amidst the flurry of leaves. "Well, isn't this just a delightful way to get a face full of nature's love? Remind me to thank you later for the impromptu leaf massage!" ''//Oh oh, she got me doin' things I never do Oh oh, let me tell the truth I think I'm stuck on you Like it's déjà vu Baby whatchu do to my heart I think I'm stuck on you Like it's déjà vu Or a new tattoo, on my arm//'' Variel's laughter echoes through the forest, her amusement mingling with the rush of the wind. "Ah, my dear little mouse," she taunts, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "You have yet to experience the full extent of my whimsical charm!" With a swift change in trajectory, Variel lowers her flight path, skimming just above the glistening surface of a tranquil lake. Droplets of water spray into the air, carried by the wind's playful dance. The cool mist kisses your skin as Variel's water magic comes into play, drenching you in a refreshing cascade of blue. You gasp, caught off guard by the sudden shower, your clothes clinging to your skin. "Variel!" you sputter, feigning indignation. "You do know how to make a splash, don't you? I must admit, this beats the warm bath I had earlier!" As you and Variel soar through the sky, the thrill of the flight coursing through your veins, yet she decided that the two of you fly back to the castle and after minutes of flying you finally saw the form of the palace. However with a swift decision, Variel transforms back into her human form, and the two of you find yourselves free-falling through the open air. The wind rushes past you, tugging at your clothes and ruffling your hair, heightening the exhilaration of the moment. But instead of fear, a smirk graces your face, challenging Variel's expectations. "Not screaming for your life, are you?" Variel teases, her eyes sparkling with amusement. You meet her gaze, a playful retort dancing on your lips. "Oh, Variel, I have faith in you! Besides, where's the fun in screaming when you're capable of such amazing feats?" Variel crosses her arms, a hint of admiration in her expression as she observes your fearless demeanor. As the ground rapidly approaches, she can't help but chuckle at your undeniable insanity. "Thrill seeker, aren't you?" Variel's laughter rings out, mingling with the rushing wind. With a wave of her hands, a surge of magic envelops both of you, suspending you in mid-air just moments before impact. You hang there, weightless and suspended, the world frozen in a breathtaking tableau. "Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint you, Variel," you quip, a glimmer of mischief in your eyes. "Besides, falling with style is always more exciting than a gentle descent." Variel releases a playful groan, rolling her eyes in mock exasperation. "You and your thirst for adventure. I suppose I should have expected nothing less from my daring little mouse." As the enchantment dissipates, the two of you descend slowly and gracefully to the awaiting ground. The transition from exhilarating free fall to a gentle landing is seamless, a testament to Variel's control and skill. With your feet touching the earth once more, a rush of elation floods your senses, mingling with the adrenaline that still courses through your veins. As you make your way back to the castle where the ball still happening, laughter and lightness fill the air, a symphony of joy echoing through the night. "I'm gonna go explore for a while!" Variel declares exasperatedly, turning away from you. "Wait! Can I come?" You plead desperately, wanting to be by her side. "No you cannot little mouse!" Variel sneers with laughter. "I fear that you're enjoying this more than I do." She spreads her arms wide and shapes them as if ready to take flight. Her formidable figure casts a long shadow on the ground. In an instant she transforms into an eagle, majestic wings unfurling and beating powerfully against the wind. Cascading rays of light turn the wingtips golden and make it look like a beautiful mosaic. Up in the sky, Variel's voice echoes through the air. "Maybe another time!" With a heavy heart, you enter the caslte alone yet that does not disuade you the idea of having a fun evening such as this in the future with Variel. [[Continue|Lich]]

''//Chapter 3.3: Action Speak Louder Than Words//'' ''//(Note: Isn't this a surprise, My boy getting some love and recognition. It brings tears to my eyes. N play something memorable to commorate this choice!)//'' You approached Lucian, noticing the woman who seemed captivated by his presence. She leaned in close, her voice dripping with seduction. "Would you care for a dance?" she asked, her eyes fixed on him. Lucian politely declined, a hint of shyness in his voice. "No, thank you. I'm not a very good dancer." The woman let out a throaty laugh, her hand swiftly connecting with Lucian's cheek in a resounding slap. He stumbled backward, caught off guard by the force of the blow. In an instant, you reacted, instinctively moving to catch him in your arms. Time seemed to slow as your eyes locked, a mixture of surprise and awe reflected in your gazes. But the moment was fleeting, as Lucian quickly recomposed himself. "Apologies, Milday, however <<print $player_name>> here has already asked me for a dance," Lucian hastily replied, his voice laced with urgency. Milday smirked, her tone filled with a mixture of amusement and possessiveness. "Alright, don't take too long. I'll be waiting, handsome." She brushed her fingers creepily across Lucian's shoulder before sauntering away, leaving a lingering chill in the air. You couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness towards Lucian, as if a silent challenge had been issued. "Well, Lucian, looks like you've got yourself quite the fan," you quipped, trying to lighten the tension. Lucian hesitated for a moment, still recovering from the unexpected encounter with Milday. He shivered, his hand subconsciously rubbing the spot where she had slapped him. "Don't even remind me," he murmured, a slight shudder running through his body. You couldn't help but find his reaction endearing. "Well, are we going to dance or not?" you playfully asked. Lucian looked at you, genuine surprise etched on his face. "Wait, you mean you want to dance with me?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. A smile danced across your lips as you replied, "Well, you did tell the lady that I would be dancing with you, didn't you?" you couldn't help to chuckle at the memory. A broad grin spread across Lucian's face, his eyes sparkling with delight. "Wow," he exclaimed, clearly taken aback. "Alright then, lead the way!" The orator's voice booms through the grand hall, commanding everyone's attention. "Attention, everyone! For this special occasion, we have a remarkable band that will enchant us with their music. Please give a resounding applause for ''//Noir's Company!"//'' The room erupts with thunderous applause and cheers, filling the air with an electric energy. The band members take their positions on the stage, their instruments poised to create a symphony that will sweep the crowd off their feet. A hush falls over the crowd as the singer's voice fills the room, the words carrying a hauntingly beautiful melody. The spotlight illuminates the figure on the stage, their face concealed behind a blank porcelain mask, lending an air of mystery and intrigue to their persona. This enigmatic presence commands attention, their voice capturing the hearts of all who listen. "I want to dedicate this song to all the friends out there and just needing a little push to fall for each other," the singer's voice resonates, infused with humor. ''//(Note: Hey the song will be written down here and if you want you can play the music while reading or sing along. I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship By Studio Killers )//'' ''//Jenny, darling, you're my best friend But there's a few things that you don't know of Why I borrow your lipstick so often I'm using your shirt as a pillow case I wanna ruin our friendship We should be lovers instead I don't know how to say this 'Cause you're really my dearest friend//'' As the enchanting melody swirled around you, you took Lucian's hands in yours, guiding him with graceful movements across the dance floor. The rhythm of the music flowed through your bodies, syncing your steps in perfect harmony. Each sway and twirl felt effortless, as if you were floating on air. A playful glimmer danced in Lucian's eyes as he chuckled, breaking the silence. "You know, Ione suggested my vote to the court," he shared, his voice filled with amusement. Curiosity piqued, you couldn't help but ask, "What vote? What did you ask Ione for?" Lucian's smile widened, his excitement evident in his words. "Well, you see, I asked Ione for a favor. I suggested that the Gods add some modern music to your story, to make things more interesting," he explained. A burst of laughter escaped your lips, the joy of the moment amplifying your mirth. "So that's why the song feels out of place in this time!" you exclaimed, realizing the clever twist that had been woven into the tapestry of your adventure. ''//Jenny, darling, you're my best friend I've been doing bad things that you don't know about Stealing your stuff now and then Nothing you'd miss, but it means the world to me I wanna ruin our friendship We should be lovers instead I don't know how to say this 'Cause you're really my dearest friend I wanna ruin our friendship I don't know how to say this 'Cause you're really my dearest friend//'' A soft smile graced your lips as you listened to Lucian's heartfelt words. The warmth in his voice matched the gleam in his eyes, and it was clear that being here, in this fantastical world, had ignited a flame of happiness within him. "You know, Lucian, sometimes I think you're happier here than in your own realm," you mused, a hint of curiosity lacing your words, eager to delve deeper into his perspective. Lucian nodded, his expression filled with a mix of nostalgia and longing. "Because that's the truth," he admitted. "Back in the council, it's always work and work, a never-ending cycle of responsibilities and seriousness. It's as if the weight of the world rests upon our shoulders, and there's little room for joy or spontaneity." His voice carried a tinge of wistfulness, as if he yearned for a different way of life. "I wish the other Gods could see things from my point of view," he continued, his tone softer now. "There's so much beauty in the world, so many moments to savor and enjoy. Life shouldn't be just about governing and overseeing. It should be about living, experiencing, and finding moments of pure bliss." ''//Jenny, take my hand 'Cause we are more than friends I will follow you until the end Jenny, take my hand I cannot pretend Why I never like your new boyfriends I wanna ruin our friendship We should be lovers instead I don't know how to say this 'Cause you're really my dearest friend Oh, your love for them won't last long (We should be lovers instead) Oh, your love for them won't last long//'' As the song reached its crescendo, you and Lucian glided across the dance floor, moving in perfect harmony with the rhythm. The effortless grace with which you danced left Lucian in awe, his eyes fixed on your every step. "You never told me you were a dancer, <<print $player_name>>," Lucian remarked, a mixture of surprise and admiration evident in his voice. "You never asked," you chuckled, a playful sparkle in your eyes. "Although, I suppose the love for dancing runs in my blood. My parents were accomplished dancers in their own right, and perhaps some of their skill rubbed off on me." Lucian's curiosity sparked, his interest piqued. "Well, what do you say we take this dance to the gardens and have a little dance-off? I've been practicing some funky moves back at the Council," he challenged, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. A confident smile spread across your face as you accepted his challenge. "I might feel a twinge of guilt in defeating you, Lucian, but consider it on!" you declared, your eyes gleaming with determination. "Go easy on me, Author-san," Lucian teased, a hint of laughter in his voice. And then, a moment of levity amidst the emotional intensity as the singer adds a touch of humor. "By the way, I'm N," they announce, their voice filled with a playful tone. "If anyone wants my autograph after the show, don't be shy!" A ripple of laughter echoes through the hall, a brief respite from the emotional journey that the song has taken everyone on. The singer, N, takes a bow, their masked face turned towards the crowd, as if acknowledging the shared experience they have just embarked upon. You and Lucian gracefully maneuvered through the crowd, skillfully dodging bodies and obstacles in your path until you finally reached N, the enigmatic figure who had captured the hearts of many with their mesmerizing performances. N was in the midst of signing autographs and exchanging warm greetings with their fans when you caught their attention. "Excuse me," you called out, your voice filled with a mix of anticipation and respect. N turned their head towards you, their mask adding an air of mystique to their already captivating presence. "The Dragon Tamer wanting to talk to me? I'm honored," they responded, their voice carrying a hint of intrigue as they graciously bowed their head in acknowledgment. Lucian stepped forward, a smile playing on his lips. "Indeed, N. We were hoping to extend an invitation to you," he began, his voice carrying a tone of excitement. "You see, <<print $player_name>> and I are planning a dance contest, and we were wondering if you'd be interested in lending your incredible singing talents to our event." "A dance contest accompanied by my voice? That sounds like an enthralling combination," they mused, a note of intrigue coloring their words. N paused for a moment, their expression thoughtful, before finally breaking into a smile that held a touch of mischief. "I would be delighted to join you," they declared, their voice carrying a melodious quality that sent a shiver of excitement down your spine. "Where will this contest be held?" N asked and moving near to the both of your sides. "In the garderns!" Lucian grins. "Exciting!" N claps their hands. "Lead the way. As you led N and Lucian through the crowd to the gardens, you couldn't help but feel the excitement bubbling up inside you. The idea of having a dance-off with Lucian was already exhilarating enough, but with N joining in the mix, it was sure to be a show-stopper. As you arrived at the secluded spot, you scanned the area, nodding in approval at the ample space for the competition. "Alright, let's do this!" Lucian exclaimed, bouncing on his toes. N's eyes glimmered behind the mask. "I can't wait to see what you two have in store for me," they said, their voice brimming with anticipation. You chuckled, feeling the adrenaline pumping through your veins. "Just be prepared to be dazzled," you quipped, winking at N and Lucian. ''//(Note: Well looks like our dear N is kidnapped Haha! Oh well make it good N, I think Move Like Jagger By Maroon 5 should suffice for this battel! Also, you must been wondering how MC can bust those sick moves with the attire they're wearing? That's the power of being an Author, my Readers you can make things happen without the need for explanation. Onwards to the dance.)//'' "Alright, dancers, take your positions!" N declared, their voice resonating with excitement and standing in the middle. N turned their attention to the two of you. "Who will go first?" they asked, drawing out the suspense. You couldn't help but flash a confident grin as you gestured for Lucian to take the spotlight. "Challenger first!" you declared, inviting him to showcase his skills. "Very well begin!" N starts to sing. ''//Just shoot for the stars If it feels right, then aim for my heart If you feel like And take me away And make it OK I swear I'll behave You wanted control, so we waited I put on a show, now I'm naked You say I'm a kid My ego is big I don't give a shit And it goes like this, uh//'' Lucian stepped forward, his eyes sparkling with determination. The music shifted, and a lively rhythm filled the air, urging him to move. With a burst of energy, Lucian began to dance, his body fluidly moving to the beat. His every step was filled with charisma and passion, his movements a perfect blend of technique and raw emotion. "Top that!" Lucian did a come hither gesture. "Be careful what you wish for!" you laugh. ''//Take me by the tongue and I'll know you (Uh) Kiss me 'til you're drunk and I'll show you You want the moves like Jagger I've got them moves like Jagger I've got them moves like Jagger (Uh) I don't need to try to control you (Uh) Look into my eyes and I'll own you With them moves like Jagger I've got them moves like Jagger I've got them moves like Jagger//'' You start with a smooth jazz step, moving your arms and legs in perfect synchronization. Then you transition to a pop dance move, doing a quick twirl and throwing your hands up in the air. Lucian watches in awe as you continue to dance, seamlessly blending different styles and moves together. You hit a flare move, spinning on your back, and then quickly transition to an electric jazz step, using your arms to create waves of energy around you. You even surprise yourself by doing the worm, sliding across the floor and popping back up to your feet. ''//Maybe it's hard, when you feel like You're broken and scarred, nothing feels right But when you're with me I'll make you believe That I've got the key Oh, so get in the car, we can ride it Wherever you want, get inside it And you wanna steer, but I'm shifting gears I'll take it from here (Oh, yeah, yeah) And it goes like this, uh//'' Lucian stands there, his mouth agape. "I...I don't even know how to top that," he says, still trying to catch his breath. "Then surrender!" you taunt him. "I got a few tricks up on my sleeve." You smirk at Lucian's taunt and raise an eyebrow. "Oh, really? I'd like to see what you've got," you challenge him. Lucian starts stretching, preparing himself for his turn. The music changes to a funky beat, setting the stage for his performance. He begins with a series of fluid movements, combining elements of contemporary dance with some impressive acrobatics. He leaps into the air, executing a flawless aerial somersault, and lands gracefully on his feet. ''//Take me by the tongue and I'll know you (Uh) Kiss me 'til you're drunk and I'll show you You want the moves like Jagger I've got them moves like Jagger I've got them moves like Jagger (Woo, uh) I don't need to try to control you (Oh yeah) Look into my eyes and I'll own you With them moves like Jagger I've got them moves like Jagger {Yeah, yeah, yeah} I've got them moves like Jagger//'' Lucian finishes his routine with a dramatic pose, his chest heaving from the exertion. He looks at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "So, what do you think?" he asks, panting slightly. You applaud, genuinely impressed by his performance. "Not bad, Lucian. Not bad at all," you admit, a hint of admiration in your voice. "Still, I'm afraid it's still not enough to defeat me." He chuckles, a competitive fire in his eyes. "We'll see about that, <<print$player_name>>. This dance-off is far from over." The both of you dance at the same time, wanting to best the other yet your mmoves reign supreme looks like those Just Dance paid off after all! ''//Take me by the tongue and I'll know you (Take me by the tongue) Kiss me 'til you're drunk and I'll show you (Yeah, yeah) You want the moves like Jagger I've got the moves like Jagger I've got the moves like Jagger (Oh yeah) I don't needa try to control you (Ooh) Look into my eyes and I'll own you (Ooh) With them moves like Jagger I've got them moves like Jagger I've got them moves like Jagger//'' As the music crescendos, you and Lucian match each other's steps, each movement more impressive than the last. You spin and twist, jump and slide, moving in perfect synchronization with the beat. The air around you crackles with energy as the dance-off reaches its climax. Lucian's eyes gleam with determination as he attempts to outdo your moves, but you respond with even more impressive and complex steps. You incorporate a mix of pop, rock, jazz, and electric jazz into your dance, executing each with precision and grace. You do the worm, followed by a flare, and then a moonwalk. But Lucian isn't one to give up easily. He responds with his own mix of moves, his body twisting and turning in ways that seem almost impossible. He does a backflip followed by a handstand, and then a series of breakdance moves that leave you in snickering "You're not bad, Lucian," you concede. "But you haven't seen my A game." And with that, you launch into a series of even more complex dance moves, leaving Lucian scrambling to keep up. As the song reaches its climax, you and Lucian face off one last time, each pushing yourselves to the limit. Finally, with a flourish, you strike your final pose. N clapping and laughing wildly. "Well played, <<print$player_name>> ," Lucian says, catching his breath. "I may have lost, but I've never had so much fun in a dance-off before." You grin. "You're not so bad yourself, Lucian. Maybe we should do this again sometime." "Bravo! Bravo!" N exclaimed, their voice filled with genuine excitement. "That was absolutely incredible! You two brought the dance floor to life!" You and Lucian exchanged glances, both grinning from ear to ear, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. N stepped forward, clapping their hands together with fervor. "I must say, I was not expecting such a display of talent and skill. You both have truly amazed me." Lucian chuckled, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Well, you know, <<print$player_name>> here is a force to be reckoned with." "Oh, don't be modest, Lucian," you playfully nudged him. "You gave me a run for my money out there." N's eyes sparkled with amusement as they interjected, "A friendly rivalry, I see. The perfect ingredients for an unforgettable performance." "You know," N mused, "this garden has witnessed many beautiful moments, but this dance-off, this is one for the books." "I couldn't agree more," Lucian nodded, his expression one of satisfaction. "I don't think I'll forget this experience anytime soon." As the crowd gradually settled down, you turned to N and couldn't resist a playful quip. "So, N, any chance we'll see you on the dance floor next time?" N chuckled. "Perhaps someday, if the stars align and the rhythm moves me, you may witness my own dance moves." The prospect intrigued you, and you replied with a smirk, "I'll be waiting for that day, N." N gaze lingers on your attire, their eyes tracing the intricate details and delicate fabric that adorned you. "How did you manage such remarkable moves in such constricting attire?" N inquires, their tone filled with genuine curiosity. You scratch your head, a bemused expression crossing your face. "Honestly, I have no idea! It's as if the fabric itself transformed, allowing me the freedom to move with grace and fluidity." N chuckles, their laughter infectious. "It appears that the Gods themselves have favored you, bestowing upon you the ability to defy the limitations of your clothing. Truly remarkable!" N bid farewell. "I must continue my performances in other establishments, but it has been an absolute pleasure to witness your incredible talent. Thank you both for the unforgettable experience." Lucian nods gratefully. "Thank you, N." "The pleasure was all mine," N says with a gracious bow before making their way into the bustling crowd, leaving you and Lucian standing side by side. "Let's grab some drinks," you suggest, feeling thirsty after all the dancing. You walk forward with Lucian by your side, scanning the area for a nearby refreshment stand. "Are you sure you're not feeling hot because of me?" Lucian stammers, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "Feeling brave and bold, are we?" you tease him playfully, a sly smile crossing your lips. "I think it's the adrenaline still running in my system," Lucian chuckles, trying to shrug off the compliment. You and Lucian returned ot the ball and drink to your heart's contents, even Clara is joining on the fun and doing some commentary on the dance battle that has ensued in the gardens. Oh yea remember Milday!, she started chasing Lucian wanting to have the dance he promised to her [[Continue|Lich]]

''//Chapter 3.4: The Golden Archer//'' ''//(Note: Somone is looking for a scandal, well don't you worry Readers for scandal you wish to seek and a scandal you shall get but it will be a different kind of scandal. N bring the roof down!)//'' As you approach Clara, the sound of the music intensifies and the rhythm of her dance becomes more vibrant. The colorful costumes of the other dancers create a kaleidoscope of colors around her, yet her movements still manage to stand out. Her body sways with grace and fluidity, her long hair following the rhythm of her dance like a living extension of her soul. You watch in awe, feeling mesmerized by her effortless elegance. As Clara spins, her gaze lands on you, and in that moment, you feel as though you are the only person in the room. You see something stirring behind her gaze, a spark of curiosity and interest. You can't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest as she continues to dance, every movement a new spell that she weaves around you. When the dance ends, the applause of the audience snaps you out of your trance. You realize that you were holding your breath, and you let out a nervous chuckle. Clara approaches you, her movements still as graceful as ever, and as she comes closer, you feel your heart racing. "Hello there," she says, her voice like a melody. "Did you enjoy the show?" You nod, feeling a little tongue-tied in her presence. "Y-yes, it was amazing. You were amazing." Clara's smile widens, and she tilts her head, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Thank you," she says. "I'm glad you think so." You feel a playful energy emanating from her, and you can't help but smile. "You seem like you're bored of dancing," you say, trying to keep the conversation going. Clara chuckles, and for a moment, her guard seems to drop. "I've been doing it for a while," she admits. "Thankfully every now and then, someone comes along and makes it interesting again." "Well then its a good thing I just arrive in time!" you boast. Clara chuckles. "So very sure of yourself?" she muse. You raise an eyebrow. "Confidence is key, isn't it? Besides, I've heard about your reputation as an extraordinary dancer. I couldn't resist the opportunity to witness it for myself." Clara smirks, clearly amused by your boldness. "Well, I suppose I can't disappoint a curious onlooker," she replies, her tone laced with a playful challenge. "Although, I must warn you, keeping up with me might not be as easy as you think." You meet her challenge with a determined grin. "I'm up for the challenge. Show me what you've got." The orator's voice booms through the grand hall, commanding everyone's attention. "Attention, everyone! For this special occasion, we have a remarkable band that will enchant us with their music. Please give a resounding applause for ''//Noir's Company!"//'' The room erupts with thunderous applause and cheers, filling the air with an electric energy. The band members take their positions on the stage, their instruments poised to create a symphony that will sweep the crowd off their feet. A hush falls over the crowd as the singer's voice fills the room, the words carrying a hauntingly beautiful melody. The spotlight illuminates the figure on the stage, their face concealed behind a blank porcelain mask, lending an air of mystery and intrigue to their persona. This enigmatic presence commands attention, their voice capturing the hearts of all who listen. "I want to dedicate this song to all the sexy and brave people out there," the singer's voice resonates, infused with amusement and light teasing. ''//(Note: Hey the song will be written down here and if you want you can play the music while reading or sing along. Shut Up And Dance By Walk The Moon )''// ''//Oh don't you dare look back Just keep your eyes on me I said you're holding back She said shut up and dance with me! This woman is my destiny She said oh oh oh Shut up and dance with me//'' Without missing a beat, Clara takes a step back, her gaze fixed on you. The music swells once more, filling the air with a pulsating rhythm. And then, with a fluid motion, she begins to dance. Her movements are a mesmerizing blend of precision and passion, each step a testament to her skill and artistry. She glides across the floor, her body twisting and turning with effortless grace. You watch in awe as she effortlessly commands the space around her, her every movement a captivating expression of emotion. ''//We were victims of the night The chemical, physical, kryptonite Helpless to the bass and faded light Oh we were born to get together Born to get together She took my arm I don't know how it happened We took the floor and she said''// As Clara pulls you close, her warmth envelops you, sending shivers down your spine. You can feel the music pulsing through both of your bodies, guiding your every move. Suddenly, Clara dips you low, her long hair cascading down to the floor as she looks deep into your eyes. "Taking the initiative?" you ask her, feeling a grin forming on your face. "Seeing you won't!" Clara retorts with a playful smirk, her eyes sparkling mischievously. You feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins as you twirl Clara around, her laughter ringing through the air. The dance floor seems to fade away as the two of you move together, lost in the moment. ''//A backless dress and some beat up sneaks My discotheque Juliet teenage dream I felt it in my chest as she looked at me I knew we were born to be together Born to be together//'' ''//She took my arm I don't know how it happened We took the floor and she said Oh don't you dare look back Just keep your eyes on me I said you're holding back She said shut up and dance with me! This woman is my destiny She said oh oh oh Shut up and dance with me//'' "Look at us, making all the other couples jealous," you quip, unable to resist the urge to tease her. Clara rolls her eyes, but her lips curl into a secret smile that betrays her amusement. Her graceful movements blend seamlessly with yours, forming a symphony of elegance and chemistry. The energy between you crackles like electricity, igniting a magnetic pull that refuses to be ignored. "Don't let it get to your head," she teases back, her voice laced with a hint of challenge. Her words hang in the air, teasingly daring you to rise to the occasion. A rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, adding an extra spark to your steps. The audience around you watches in awe as you and Clara navigate the dance floor, the epitome of grace and passion. Whispers of admiration ripple through the crowd, and you can't help but revel in the intoxicating feeling of being the center of attention. The dance becomes a battleground of wit and charm, a delightful exchange of verbal jabs and teasing remarks. Each spin and twirl is infused with an undercurrent of flirtation, drawing you both closer with every move. The spectators can't help but be captivated by the undeniable chemistry that radiates between you, their hearts fluttering in response to the palpable tension. The music reaches its crescendo, and as the final note hangs in the air, Clara pulls you into a lingering embrace. Her breath tickles your ear as she whispers, "Thank you for this dance," her voice filled with a mixture of gratitude and longing. "From the looks of it, I think you need it!" you jest, your voice dripping with teasing amusement. Clara's expression momentarily shifts, a mixture of surprise and amusement crossing her features. She feigns offense, but the corners of her mouth betray a suppressed smile that threatens to break free. "Oh, you think you're so clever, don't you?" Clara retorts, her tone laced with mock annoyance. She raises an eyebrow and a playful challenge flickers in her eyes, a silent invitation for you to match her wit. And then, a moment of levity amidst the emotional intensity as the singer adds a touch of humor. "By the way, I'm N," they announce, their voice filled with a playful tone. "If anyone wants my autograph after the show, don't be shy!" A ripple of laughter echoes through the hall, a brief respite from the emotional journey that the song has taken everyone on. The singer, N, takes a bow, their masked face turned towards the crowd, as if acknowledging the shared experience they have just embarked upon. The melody of the new band drifts through the air, their lively tunes weaving a magical backdrop to the unfolding adventure. Clara's eyes sparkle with mischief as she seizes your hand, her touch electrifying. "Come with me, <<print$player_name>>!" she declares, her voice filled with anticipation, and she leads you away with a sense of urgency. Together, you venture into the enchanting palace gardens, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow upon the vibrant blooms that surround you. Clara glances over her shoulder, ensuring no one follows your secret escapade, before guiding you deeper into the labyrinthine maze. The soft rustling of leaves and the scent of flowers fill the air, heightening the air of mystery and excitement. With a mischievous smile, Clara releases your hand and disappears into a dense thicket. You watch in anticipation as she emerges, triumphantly brandishing a basket filled with unknown delights. "Here, wear this!" she exclaims, tossing a bundle of clothes in your direction. You catch them deftly, the fabric whispering secrets as it glides through the air. "No peeking!" Clara teases, her laughter bubbling forth like music. A playful challenge shimmers in her eyes as she disappears into the foliage once more, leaving you with a sense of anticipation and wonder. Finding a secluded nook amidst the labyrinthine greenery, you eagerly begin to change into the garments Clara provided. The adventurer's tunic, with its rich hues and intricate embroidery, feels like a tangible manifestation of the adventure that awaits. As you don the outfit, a surge of excitement courses through your veins, igniting your spirit and fueling your imagination. "Ready?" Clara's voice floats through the air, filled with a mix of excitement and playfulness. You nod, a grin spreading across your face, eager to discover what kind of shenanigans you and Clare will get yourself into. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Clara leads you deeper into the thicket, parting the leaves and revealing a weathered gate, its iron bars rusted with age. It creaks open, protesting the passage of time, as Clara eagerly beckons you to follow. Intrigue pulses through your veins as you step through the threshold, anticipation hanging in the air like a delicate veil. As you emerge from the thicket, a sense of wonder washes over you. The streets before you are quiet, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight that casts mysterious shadows upon the cobblestones. Clara leads the way, her steps filled with purpose and a touch of playfulness, her presence a guiding light in the darkness. Through the winding streets you wander, the silence broken only by the distant echoes of laughter and the melodies of music. The vibrant sounds grow louder, drawing you closer to their source, until you catch sight of a tavern nestled amidst the ancient buildings. Its windows glow warmly, beckoning like a beacon in the night, promising a respite from the world outside. The air is charged with an electric energy, anticipation intertwining with the sounds of mirth and revelry that spill from the tavern's open doors. Clara's eyes twinkle with excitement as she glances back at you, a mischievous smile playing upon her lips. Without a word, she gestures for you to follow, her steps quickening with each stride. As you approach, the lively tunes of a fiddle and the cheerful strumming of a guitar mingle in the air, blending with the contagious laughter that fills the space. The tavern is alive with the joyous spirit of celebration, a sanctuary for merriment and camaraderie. The aroma of hearty meals and rich ale wafts through the air, tantalizing your senses and promising indulgence. A crackmouth remark escapes your lips, carried away on the intoxicating atmosphere. "Well, well, it seems like we've stumbled upon the heart of the fun," you quip, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. Clara chuckles, her eyes sparkling with shared amusement. "Oh, just wait until you experience it firsthand," she teases, her voice carrying a hint of mystery and excitement. With eager steps, you cross the threshold into the tavern, the clamor of voices and the melodic harmonies washing over you like a warm embrace. The space is alive with animated conversations, clinking glasses, and the rhythmic tapping of feet. Patrons raise their tankards in joyful toasts, their laughter creating a symphony of jubilance that fills the air. Guided by Clara, you navigate through the bustling crowd, skillfully maneuvering past groups of revelers until you find respite in a cozy corner. The air is alive with the harmonious symphony of laughter, clinking glasses, and the melodies of music, creating an atmosphere that exudes warmth and camaraderie. Just as you settle into your newfound sanctuary, Clara's name is called out by a friendly voice. Turning towards the sound, you see a bartender with a jovial expression on his face. His short orange hair and unruly beard give him a rugged charm, while his muscular arms suggest a life of hard work. Clara's eyes light up with recognition as she returns the greeting with a hearty slap on the bartender's shoulder. "Garry!" she exclaims, her voice filled with genuine delight. "Glad to see you, Clara!" Garry responds, his voice carrying a warm, familiar tone. He glances at you and extends a welcoming hand. "And who's this lucky companion of yours?" Clara gestures for you to join them, and you approach the bar with a smile. Observing Garry, you can't help but admire his charismatic presence and the vibrant atmosphere he creates. The two of them seem to share a history of mischief and adventures. "<<print$player_name>>, meet Garry, The Barkeeper," Clara introduces, her eyes twinkling mischievously. You offer a friendly nod, intrigued by this figure who seems to embody the spirit of the tavern. "Happy to see that Clara isn't causing trouble alone," Garry quips, a playful smile dancing on his lips. Clara chuckles heartily. "Ah, you've got me there," she admits with a hint of amusement. "But where's the fun in mischief without a partner in crime?" Your attention is momentarily drawn to a gleaming trophy perched on a shelf behind the bar. Curiosity getting the better of you, your gaze lingers on the object. Garry notices your interest and reaches for it, carefully polishing the trophy with a cloth. "Ah!" he exclaims, his voice brimming with excitement. "This trophy was bestowed upon me by a mysterious stranger. Called it 'Best Wingman Ever.'" He chuckles, his eyes sparkling with intrigue and a touch of pride. "Best Wingman Ever, huh?" you quip, a playful glint in your eyes. Garry shrugs, a humble smile gracing his face. Clara chuckle at the idea. "I'm sure you are the best wingman, Garry." She adds in, "And don't forget, Garry's got another successful bar called The Bullseye." Garry waves her off modestly. "Oh, that old place? It's not much, just a little spot I run on the side." He then proceeds to pour two mugs of ale and slides them over to you and Clara. "On the house," he says with a grin. You raise your mug, the amber liquid catching the flickering candlelight, and offer a toast to the night of endless possibilities. The air is thick with laughter and the melodic notes of lively music, setting the perfect backdrop for the events about to unfold. Just as you take a satisfying sip, a burly figure emerges from the crowd, his presence commanding attention. "I knew that you come back crawling here when I heard your name!" the figure booms, a wide grin stretching across his rugged face as he approaches both you and Clara. Clara playfully punches theman on the shoulder. "So, care for a rematch Boris?" she challenges, a glint of determination in her eyes. Boris chuckles, his voice a deep rumble. "Deal!" he exclaims, accepting the challenge without hesitation. Garry makes his way through the throng, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He places a tray of shot glasses on the table, each one brimming with a liquid concoction that promises both pleasure and a touch of danger. "Boys, clear the table," Boris commands with a playful authority, and the patrons comply, creating a space where the battle of wits and fortitude will soon unfold. As the glasses are set, a hush falls over the tavern, every eye fixated on Clara and Boris, two formidable opponents preparing for another round. Tension crackles in the air, electrifying the atmosphere. Raising her shot glass, Clara meets Boris's gaze, her expression a mix of determination and confidence. "May the best man—or woman—win," she declares, her voice strong and unwavering. The room holds its breath for a moment, the anticipation almost tangible, before both competitors simultaneously bring the glasses to their lips. In that instant, time seems to stand still as the fiery elixir courses through their veins, igniting a spark of exhilaration and fierce competition. "C'mon now, Boris," Clara taunted, her voice dripping with playful defiance. "I can sense that you're going easy on me! Where's the fire, the passion? Don't hold back!" Boris chuckled, a deep rumble that filled the room with warmth. He leaned in closer, his voice a low, melodious growl. "Clara, my dear, violence is not my nature. Besides, I wouldn't dare use a cleaver on a cute little bunny like you." He punctuated his words by slamming his shot glass onto the table, matching Clara's challenge with his own brand of wit. Their banter fueled the tension in the room, the air crackling with anticipation. The crowd hung on every word, drawn into the captivating display of wit and bravado. Each move, each word exchanged between Boris and Clara, added another layer of drama to the already climactic scene. Hours had passed since the drinking game had commenced, and the table had transformed into a mountain of empty shot glasses, each one a testament to the fierce determination of both Clara and Boris. The effects of the alcohol were beginning to take hold, their once steady hands now trembling as they reached for their next drink. Clara, her fiery spirit undimmed despite the growing haze in her mind, leaned forward and locked eyes with Boris. A mischievous grin played at the corners of her lips as she raised her shot glass, her voice cutting through the raucous atmosphere of the tavern. "Surrender now, Boris, and save yourself from the inevitable, miserable defeat that awaits you!" With a swift motion, she tilted her head back, swallowing the shot in one smooth gulp. Boris, his own gaze glazed with a mixture of determination and exhaustion, mustered the last vestiges of his strength. He reached for the shot glass, his hand trembling weakly. A playful glimmer danced in his eyes as he retorted, his voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm, "Ladies first, my dear Clara." But before his lips could touch the rim of the glass, his body betrayed him. The alcohol had taken its toll, rendering him defenseless. With a sudden thud, he collapsed to the floor, knocked out cold. The jubilant atmosphere in the tavern abruptly shattered as a heated argument broke out nearby, escalating into a chaotic scene. The raucous celebration was momentarily silenced as the voices clashed, the discordant notes cutting through the air like a cacophony. Amidst the rising tension, a punch was thrown, its intended target agilely dodging and leaving you as an unintended victim. The force of the unexpected blow sent you hurtling through the air, the room spinning in a dizzying whirlwind. Gasps of shock and concern echoed through the crowd as all eyes turned toward Clara, her once playful and spirited demeanor morphing into that of a fierce and protective beast. Her voice erupted like thunder, reverberating through the chaos. "Who dares lay a hand on my partner?" she screamed, her voice laced with an unmistakable primal fury. Fingers pointed in unison, directing attention to the attacker, who stammered in protest, "I didn't mean to—" Before he could finish his feeble excuse, Clara swiftly closed the distance between them, launching herself at him with the ferocity of a predator on the hunt. The impact of her tackle brought them both crashing to the ground, an explosive collision that set off a chain reaction. Pandemonium ensued within the confines of the pub, as fists met flesh in a chaotic symphony. Laughter mingled with curses, creating a discordant soundtrack to the clash of bodies and the shattering of glass. The once celebratory atmosphere had transformed into a battlefield, with patrons taking sides or simply reveling in the spectacle that unfolded before them. Amidst the chaos, a familiar voice cut through the din, offering a lifeline amidst the tumultuous storm. "You alright?" Garry's concerned voice reached your ears, as he extended a glass filled with an intriguing green liquid. His eyes reflected genuine worry and a glimmer of mischief. "Here, drink this. It'll make the pain go away." He held the glass steady, a beacon of relief in the midst of the surrounding chaos. With a mix of gratitude and curiosity, you grasped the glass, its contents swirling with an enigmatic allure. Without hesitation, you brought it to your lips, swallowing its contents in one swift motion. Almost immediately, warmth suffused your body, as the pain and ache began to dissipate like a fleeting memory. The elixir coursed through your veins, casting a spell of comfort and rejuvenation upon your weary form. Amidst the swirling chaos of bodies clashing and grappling with one another, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The tavern had transformed into a frenzied battlefield, where the line between friend and foe blurred in the haze of the ongoing brawl. Turning to Garry, you voiced your concern, gesturing toward the sea of entangled figures. "Is this normal?" you asked, your voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Garry, a mischievous glint in his eyes, flashed a reassuring grin. His chuckle danced through the air, mingling with the sounds of grunts and thuds. "Ah, my friend," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Let them be. They'll tire themselves out soon enough. Take a seat and watch as your avenger fights for your honor!" His words, laced with playful jest, put you at ease, diverting your attention from the chaos around you. As Garry gently placed a finger under your chin, he guided your gaze toward Clara, who had become a whirlwind of furious grace. With each jump, her body soared through the air, her elbow extended like a weapon of retribution. Time seemed to slow as she descended upon her unfortunate opponent, her elbow crashing down with a force that resonated through the room. ''(Intermission)'' "Well N looks like we have arrive at the scene." "Clara is sure is vengeful!" N says and shaking their head. "I know right and what's better to have you sing amidst the chaos." "Great idea Author and I got just the thing!" N snaps their fingers. "New Thang By Redfoo!" N brings out a guitar. ''(Resume)'' ''//Oh, the way that you pop, girl Makes me go cray, show me what you got, girl! You could be my new thang Oh, the way that you move Makes me go cray, pick it up now drop, girl You could be my new thang Aha, uhuhu uhuhu Aha, uhuhu uhuhu//'' Clara's lithe form moved with the precision of a trained fighter. She deftly evaded a punch and launched into a kick-flip, her booted foot soaring through the air before connecting with the attacker's jaw. The impact sent the man stumbling back, his head snapping back from the force of the blow. Clara didn't let up, darting forward and ducking under his flailing arms to deliver a vicious sucker punch to his gut. The sound of cracking teeth filled the air as the man crumpled to the ground, writhing in pain. The crowd around them erupted into a cacophony of cheers and jeers, some egging Clara on while others shouted insults at her opponent. "Looks like you messed with the wrong lady." "That's my girl!" you yelled, earning a few cheers from nearby patrons. Clara glanced over at you, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You see that?" she called out, pointing at the man groaning on the ground. "That's what happens when you mess with my friend!" She raised a fist in triumph, eliciting more cheers from the crowd. ''//Get sexy, girl, get sexy Get sexy, girl, get sexy Get sexy, girl, get sexy I heard it's your birthday Grab a drink if ya thirsty I can see that ya need an OG That can do ya the best and the worst way Pop it like a go-go Drop it like a low-low What's that? It's a GoPro? So I can watch that back, HD, slo-mo//'' Just as Clara basked in the glory of her recent victory, a sense of danger rippled through the air, tingling at the back of your mind. With lightning reflexes, you shouted a warning, your voice slicing through the chaos. "Watch out!" Clara's head snapped around, her eyes widening as she registered the imminent threat. Without missing a beat, she spun on her heel, her backfist whipping through the air with precision. The strike collided with the assailant's face, catching him off guard and sending him reeling. But Clara wasn't finished yet. With a seamless transition, she followed up with an explosive uppercut, her fist soaring upward like a comet. The impact reverberated through the room, rattling the very foundation of the tavern. The attacker, dazed and disoriented, crumpled to the ground, his ill-fated revenge attempt thwarted. As the dust settled, Clara turned her attention back to you, a playful glimmer dancing in her eyes. "Thanks, gorgeous," she purred, a sly wink accentuating her words. The intensity of the moment couldn't dampen her vibrant spirit, and her confidence shone through like a beacon in the dimly lit tavern. Embracing the chaos around them, Clara unleashed a torrent of crackmouth remarks and quips, her words flowing like liquid fire. "You thought you could take on the dynamic duo? Think again, sweetheart!" she taunted, her voice dripping with a mixture of defiance and amusement. ''//I don't care if it's the first date I'll take ya back to my place We can skip first base Cause a player like me tryna slide into home plate Clap clap, make it clap Lights on, lights off Make it clap Yeah Make it clap My name ain't Santa But she sittin' on my lap//'' Garry's voice cut through the lingering echoes of the intense brawl, his playful tone infused with a touch of mischief. "So, any plans on joining the fun?" he inquired, a mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes as he polished a mug with practiced ease. A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you glanced around at the aftermath of the raucous chaos. Broken chairs, overturned tables, and bodies strewn about like discarded toys painted a vivid picture of the mayhem that had unfolded. The atmosphere crackled with lingering energy, and a surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins, tempting you to step into the fray. "Thanks for the reminder," you replied, your voice carrying a note of amusement. With a casual stretch, you felt your muscles awaken, eager to partake in the frenetic dance of the tavern's battleground. Spotting an unoccupied chair nearby, you approached Garry with a playful glint in your eye. "Do you mind if I borrow this?" you asked, your request wrapped in a layer of mischievous charm. Garry's laughter boomed through the room, reverberating off the worn walls. He gestured grandly, giving his blessing as he spoke. "Use it to your heart's content, my friend," he declared, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Besides, Clara will be the one paying for the damages." His remark elicited a chorus of chuckles from those within earshot. Clara, still basking in the glow of her triumph, caught sight of you from across the room. Her eyes locked with yours, and a mischievous smile played upon her lips. "Well, well, look who's ready to join the party," she remarked, her voice laced with a mix of admiration and playful challenge. "Think you can handle the heat?" You met her gaze with a confident grin, a twinkle of excitement in your eyes. "Oh, I've been waiting for my moment," you quipped, your voice dripping with determination. "Time to show them what we're made of, partner." ''//Oh, the way that you pop, girl Makes me go cray, show me what you got, girl! You could be my new thang Oh, the way that you move Makes me go cray, pick it up now drop, girl You could be my new thang Aha, uhuhu uhuhu Aha, uhuhu uhuhu Get sexy, girl, get sexy Get sexy, girl, get sexy Get sexy, girl, get sexy//'' As the chaos swirled around you, Clara's instincts kicked into overdrive. With a swift and fluid motion, she pulled you closer, her grip firm yet reassuring. Time seemed to slow as her eyes locked onto an incoming assailant charging from behind. With an explosion of power, Clara's fist shot forward like a bullet, finding its mark square in the charging foe's jaw. The impact reverberated through the room, a resounding crack that punctuated the air. The assailant stumbled backward, his momentum disrupted and his senses disoriented. But there was no time to revel in their momentary advantage. Another adversary, fueled by the desire for retribution, barreled towards you with unyielding determination. Your heart raced as you tightened your grip on the chair, its weight becoming an extension of your resolve. With lightning reflexes, you swung the chair upward, the wooden frame colliding with the oncoming foe's face. A sickening thud filled the air as bone met unforgiving oak. The assailant's body contorted in a grotesque twist of pain, his consciousness fleeting as he crumpled to the ground, defeated. ''//Hey bae I know we hardly met And I like that, You're playing hard to get And you're the type that Makes me wanna do thangs And that's why I'm tryna make you my new thang Party people! Aha, uhuhu uhuhu Aha, uhuhu uhuhu Get sexy, girl, get sexy Get sexy, girl, get sexy Get sexy, girl, get sexy//'' A surge of playful confidence welled within you, emboldening your spirit. With a devilish glint in your eye, you seized the opportunity to engage in a friendly banter, throwing caution to the wind. "The real question is," you retorted with a sly smile, "Can you even handle me after this?" The challenge hung in the air, crackling with anticipation, as you surveyed the frenzied scene around you. Seeking an outlet for your playful provocation, you swiftly hurled the wooden handle of the chair at a random target, their unsuspecting figure becoming a makeshift pinata in the raucous fray. With a satisfying thud, they slid to the ground, dazed and defeated. Clara's laughter filled the air, an infectious melody that danced amidst the chaotic symphony. Her response carried a hint of both amusement and a tantalizing suggestion. "Don't tempt me!" she chortled, her eyes twinkling with mischief, her voice a blend of excitement and desire for the next exhilarating challenge. With a thunderous crash, the door swung open, revealing a figure whose presence commanded attention. Whispers of admiration and awe rippled through the crowd as the mysterious newcomer stepped into the tumultuous scene, a smirk playing upon his lips. The room seemed to hold its breath, captivated by the enigmatic figure who had just arrived. "It looks like I was fashionably late to the party," the figure chuckled, his voice carrying a sense of confidence and intrigue. The sound resonated in the air, causing heads to turn and eyes to widen in anticipation. A hushed murmur swept through the room as someone exclaimed, "It's the Eagle!" The name reverberated through the tavern, evoking both reverence and curiosity. Garry, with a mixture of surprise and delight, called out to the figure, "I swear, Elrick, you're a ghost that seems to haunt me in my every step!" Laughter echoed through the room, a testament to the camaraderie that existed between the two old friends. Elrick, undeterred by the chaos surrounding him, made his way towards the bar with a swagger in his step. His presence commanded attention, drawing the curious gazes of those around him. "The Bullseye is not the same without you, old man!" he jested, his laughter ringing out like a melody amidst the raucous atmosphere. In a moment of casual nonchalance, Elrick shifted his attention towards you and Clara, his green gaze piercing yet playful. "Oh, I suggest you two get going," he suggested with a knowing grin. "Your Bodyguard has started a search party for you, princess." His words dripped with sarcasm. Without another glance in your direction, he saluted the both of you, his focus shifting elsewhere, leaving an air of mystery in his wake. You exchanged a knowing glance with Clara, your minds already in sync. The mention of Lucas made you and Clara smile You both stood up, brushing off any stray dirt or debris that had accumulated during the fight. "Thanks for the heads up, stranger," Clara called out, her voice carrying a hint of gratitude as she made her way towards the door. You and Clara hurriedly made your way through the bustling streets, the cobblestones echoing with the rhythmic cadence of your footsteps. The cool night air enveloped you, carrying with it a sense of freedom and adventure. Above, the stars twinkled like distant promises, their gentle glow casting a magical aura over the city. As you navigated the labyrinthine alleys, the symphony of life surrounded you, each sound adding to the symphony of the night. Laughter and snippets of conversations intermingled with the distant melodies of street musicians, creating an orchestra of urban vitality. It was a vibrant chaos that both exhilarated and intoxicated your senses. In the midst of this intoxicating symphony, you couldn't help but turn to Clara, the fire of anticipation burning in your eyes. "So, do you think Lucas is losing his mind now?" you inquired, the words spilling out between breaths as the two of you raced through the winding streets. Clara flashed you a knowing smile, her eyes gleaming with mischief. Her laughter, like a musical ripple, escaped her lips, blending seamlessly with the city's nocturnal melody. "No doubt about it, but knowing me, I'm sure he's taking his sweet time," she chuckled, her voice laced with a tinge of playfulness. "After all, this isn't the first time I've orchestrated such adventures, you know?" The two fo you race against time to get back to the castle before Lucas can find the two of you wandering outside on the streets, afterall the princess not in the ball is very bad news! [[Continue|Lich]]

''//Chapter 3.1: Hand In Hand...Combat?//'' ''//(Notes: Can't get enough of the angst huh? Well then you have pick the right choice. I will not allow Lucas to have joy despite this occasion. Call me evil but what can I say? I like the drama and tears. N! Take it away!)//'' You deftly navigate your way through the throngs of people until you spot Lucas. His normally handsome face is marred by a furrowed brow, his eyes flickering with anxiety. The room blazes with heat and the clamor of polite chatter, but all eyes seem to be focused on Lucas and his next move. As you approach, the tension in the air becomes palpable. "Will you dance with me, Royal Protector?" asks a sultry redhead, her voice oozing with desire as she boldly steps towards him. "I am sorry, but I must decline," replies Lucas wearily, his voice barely above a whisper. Suddenly, another noblewoman interrupts their exchange with a sneer, "Who do you think you are? Thinking that the Protector will dance with you? You're nothing but a HAG!" Undeterred, the fiery-haired woman bristles at this insult, her eyes sparking in anger as she delivers a stinging slap across the other woman's cheek. Just as things are about to escalate further, Lucas turns to you with a look of desperation, "<<print$player_name>> there you are! Will you dance with me?" The line of eager dancers who had been waiting for their turn with Lucas now turn to glare at you with murderous intent. "That's not fair! We were here first!" one man protests loudly. "ENOUGH!" Lucas bellows above the din of the crowd. All conversation halts abruptly and the music comes to an abrupt stop. "I have chosen <<print$player_name>> as my partner," he declares firmly, casting a stern gaze around the room. "Now leave us be or suffer the consequences." The hateful glances from those around you slowly dissipate as they disperse into the crowd. You take Lucas's hand and together begin to dance. The drama is over for now and it feels like all eyes are on you both. Amidst the whispers and stares, Clara gracefully saunters over to join the two of you, her presence commanding attention. The music swells once more, enveloping the room in its enchanting melodies. "My, my, Lucas, you certainly know how to make a grand entrance," Clara remarks, her eyes twinkling mischievously. Lucas scoffs, his expression a mixture of irritation and amusement. "These people simply refuse to take a hint." Clara chuckles, her laughter ringing through the air. "Well, it seems you needed <<print$player_name>>'s intervention to save you from the clutches of these persistent suitors." Lucas looks at you, his eyes softening with a hint of gratitude. "Indeed, <<print$player_name>>came to my rescue." A bittersweet feeling washes over you, realizing that perhaps you were just a means of escape for Lucas. But before you can dwell on it, Lucas notices a group of lurking individuals, poised to approach him once again. Without hesitation, he firmly clasps your hand, halting their advances. The tension in the room is palpable as the lurkers falter, uncertain of their next move. Lucas releases your hand momentarily, and they begin to inch forward once more. In an instant, Lucas reclaims your hand, his grip tightening. "It seems I've become a prisoner in the safety of the castle," Lucas sighs, his gaze filled with frustration and resignation. The eyes of the crowd are fixed on him, eagerly waiting for him to abandon you. You feel a surge of protectiveness towards Lucas, not wanting to see him trapped or taken advantage of. The weight of the moment hangs heavy in the air as you stand by his side, a united front against the expectations and pressures of the court. Clara interjects with a playful smile. "Come now, let's not keep the drama going for too long. The music beckons, and the night is still young. Let them wonder and speculate while the both of you dance." Lucas's gaze lingers on you, his intense blue eyes softening as a genuine smile graces his lips. He loosens his grip on your hand, his touch gentle and reassuring, as he leads you gracefully towards the dance floor. The anticipation in the room is palpable, and all eyes seem to be drawn to the two of you. The orator's voice booms through the grand hall, commanding everyone's attention. "Attention, everyone! For this special occasion, we have a remarkable band that will enchant us with their music. Please give a resounding applause for ''//Noir's Company!"//'' The room erupts with thunderous applause and cheers, filling the air with an electric energy. The band members take their positions on the stage, their instruments poised to create a symphony that will sweep the crowd off their feet. A hush falls over the crowd as the singer's voice fills the room, the words carrying a hauntingly beautiful melody. The spotlight illuminates the figure on the stage, their face concealed behind a blank porcelain mask, lending an air of mystery and intrigue to their persona. This enigmatic presence commands attention, their voice capturing the hearts of all who listen. "I want to dedicate this song to all the lone wolves out there," the singer's voice resonates, infused with emotion that reaches deep into the souls of the listeners. Their words are filled with empathy, a recognition of the solitary journey that some must tread. The music swells, enveloping the space with its ethereal sound, as if it has the power to heal wounded hearts and mend broken spirits. ''//(Note: Hey the song will be written down here and if you want you can play the music while reading or sing along. I Wanna Dance With Somebody By Whitney Houston)//'' ''//Clock strikes upon the hour And the sun begins to fade Still enough time to figure out How to chase my blues away I've done alright up to now It's the light of day that shows me how And when the night falls, loneliness calls//'' The sing begins to envelop the room and the dancers grab their partners and started to move to the music. Lucas put his hand behind your back and take hold of your hand. "I start slow." Lucas says in a low tone. You feel the warmth of his touch and found yourself trusting him as he guides you around the floor. His steps are confident but measured, and his movements precise yet smooth. He leads you in time to the music, effortlessly twirling and spinning you in perfect harmony. ''//Oh, I wanna dance with somebody I wanna feel the heat with somebody Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody With somebody who loves me Oh, I wanna dance with somebody I wanna feel the heat with somebody Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody With somebody who loves me//'' Lucas grins as he takes your hand and twirls you around the floor, the music a rousing crescendo in the background. His laughter bubbles out joyfully, echoing off the walls as you spin together like two glittering stars caught in an eternal embrace. "Thank you by the way!" He suddenly exclaims, halting his movement. "For what?" You asked, your bodies moving in perfect unison. "For coming to my aid." He said with a warm and comforting smile, his crystal blue eyes shining like stars above. Suddenly, a feeling of passion and desire filled the room, and you knew at that very moment that no matter what happened, he would always be there for you. ''//Oh, I wanna dance with somebody I wanna feel the heat with somebody Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody With somebody who loves me Oh, I wanna dance with somebody I wanna feel the heat with somebody Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody With somebody who loves me//'' You couldn't help but let out a light chuckle. "I mean it's pretty ironic! The Royal Protector need protecting!" you laugh boisterously, feeling the spark of joy between you and Lucas as he laughs along with you. "That is very humorous," Lucas muses, his voice like a low purr as he gazes upon you with fondness in his eyes. Lucas takes the lead yet you didn't want him hogging the spotlight for too long, so waiting for the chance when Lucas will spin you around, you broke free from his grasp, your movements graceful and swift. You put your hand behind his back and dipped him low, your heart racing as he looked up to meet your gaze in surprise. His eyes widened before they softened into a smirk. "Can't control yourself can't you?" Lucas teased, his voice making a shiver run down your spine. You did not raise him just yet. Gathering all of your courage and strength, you looked directly into his eyes with determination, your words oozing out of your lips. "What can I say I'm a fighter not a follower." With one fluid movement, you slowly raised him up until you were both standing face-to-face, mere inches from each other. ''//I've been in love and lost my senses Spinning through the town Sooner or later, the fever ends And I wind up feeling down I need a man who'll take a chance On a love that burns hot enough to last So when the night falls My lonely heart calls//'' Lucas' eyes burned through you as his warm breath tickled your face. A devilish smirk crept onto his lips, then he quickly closed the gap between you two and started to spin you around like a top. You felt the dizzying swirls of air pass by as you were twirled from side to side. He then dipped you low and your leg shot up in the air, causing your head to swim with delight. "I assure you my honor is intact," Lucas said as a rose appeared in his hand, which he gently brushed against your face until it reached your lips. You could feel the steam radiating off him as he looked deeply into your eyes. Suddenly, a whoosh filled the air and all was silent, save for your beating heart. "On the other hand! I can't say the same thing to you!" Lucas taunts. Your body tingles as you laugh and draw the courage to take the rose from his outstretched hand. "I beg to differ!" you proclaim boldly, as you slip the petals of the rose between your lips. You close your eyes and thank the stars that there were no thorns marring it's soft beauty. ''//Oh, I wanna dance with somebody I wanna feel the heat with somebody Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody With somebody who loves me Oh, I wanna dance with somebody I wanna feel the heat with somebody Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody With somebody who loves me//'' A fierce battle erupted between you and Lucas for the lead of this duet, but eventually he bowed his head in defeat, reliquishing control to you until the song ends. "<<print$player_name>>, I must say that your performance has left me awestruck!", Lucas praised as he gazed at you admirably. Your heart fluttered wildly with surprise and delight, stealing the attention of those around you. The tenderness of the moment moved both of you simultaneously and you felt a rush of emotion deep within your core. His eyes met yours and the admiration written in them sparked a warmth in your chest. It was a feeling unlike any other - one of contentment and recognition. Chuckling warmly, Lucas responded to your boast, his voice laced with a touch of amusement. "Ah, it seems that Clara is not the sole proprietor of an inflated ego in this realm of ours. You, my dear <<print$player_name>>, possess quite the formidable spirit as well." You playfully raised an eyebrow, meeting Lucas's gaze. "Well, it takes one to know one, doesn't it? Perhaps we're cut from the same cloth, destined to leave an unforgettable impression wherever we go." "Wise words!" he exclaimed, a glint of admiration in his eyes. He bowed low and stepped away from you, "Now if you excuse me, I shall seek respite walking in the gardens." You wanted nothing more than to be close to him and blurted out before your mind could catch up, "Wait! Would you allow my presence to grace your walk?" You asked lightheartedly. With a playful glint in your eye, you gracefully linked your arm with his. A mischievous grin danced upon your lips as you couldn't help but tease him. "Oh, Lucas," you quipped, feigning exasperation. "The curse of being so undeniably handsome and endlessly intriguing. How do you manage to bear such a burden?" Lucas chuckled, the sound melodic and infectious. He shook his head, his laughter mixing with the gentle rustle of leaves around you. "Ah, my dear companion," he replied, a playful glint in his eyes. "It is a curse that I must bear with great fortitude." As you ventured deeper into the gardens, the atmosphere became more serene and secluded, shielding the two of you from prying eyes and the bustling energy of the revelers. It was as if the world had faded away, leaving only the soft rustle of leaves and the distant melody of nature. The moonlight cascaded through the branches overhead, casting ethereal shadows upon the ground. It illuminated Lucas's face, accentuating his chiseled features and highlighting the determination in his eyes. The air was charged with anticipation as he turned his attention towards you, his voice carrying a hint of challenge. "So, <<print$player_name>>, how would you rate your combat skills?" Lucas inquired, his tone laced with curiosity. A playful smirk danced upon your lips as you considered his question. "Well, let's just say I'm a work in progress," you admitted, a touch of humility in your voice. "Lee has taken on the arduous task of training me." A glint of excitement gleamed in Lucas's eyes, and he wasted no time in shedding his white military jacket. The soft sound of buttons being undone filled the air as he carefully folded the garment and placed it upon a nearby bench. In its absence, Lucas stood before you in a pristine white tunic, his skin peeking through the gaps and drawing your attention. A mischievous twinkle danced in your eyes as you playfully remarked, "Oh, Lucas, I must say your choice of attire is quite distracting. Are you trying to gain an unfair advantage?" Lucas chuckled, a melodic sound that blended with the tranquility of the garden. He crossed his arms, creating a barrier that concealed the tantalizing glimpse of skin. "I assure you, <<print$player_name>>, my intentions are purely honorable," he replied with a mock seriousness. ''//(Note: Looks like the fun is about to begin! Me and N pick the perfect song for this, you can even call it ironic. "That's right Author!" N laughs. "Readers prepare to get Rickrolled! Never Gonna Give You Up By Rick Astley)//'' ''//We're no strangers to love You know the rules and so do I A full commitment's what I'm thinking of You wouldn't get this from any other guy I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling Gotta make you understand//'' You stood there, a hint of disappointment evident in your voice as you surveyed your attire. The delicate fabric of your clothing didn't exactly scream "ready for combat." Lucas chuckled at your remark, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, well, it seems I have an unfair advantage," he teased, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "But fear not, my dear <<print$player_name>>, for I have a proposition that might pique your interest." Your curiosity piqued, you raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of anticipation in your eyes. "Oh, pray tell, Lucas, what masterful plan do you have in mind?" A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he rotated his shoulders, a subtle gesture that betrayed his eagerness. "How about I impart upon you the art of throwing a punch? A valuable skill that every warrior should possess." ''//We've known each other for so long Your heart's been aching, but You're too shy to say it Inside, we both know what's been going on We know the game and we're gonna play it And if you ask me how I'm feeling Don't tell me you're too blind to see//'' With a nod, you readied yourself, a mixture of determination and curiosity in your stance. Lucas, ever the patient instructor, stepped closer, his presence commanding yet inviting. "First, let's start with the proper stance," Lucas began, his voice a melodic blend of guidance and encouragement. "Feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent. Keep your guard up, protecting your face and chest." As he demonstrated the stance, you mirrored his movements, internalizing the instructions and adjusting your posture accordingly. "Now, focus on your target," Lucas continued, his voice a steady stream of instruction. "Imagine your opponent's face, a vivid image that motivates you. Feel the energy surging through your body, channeling it into your fist." With each word, he guided you through the subtle nuances of proper technique, emphasizing the importance of balance, timing, and the controlled release of power. His words were like poetry, resonating with a deep understanding of combat and a genuine desire to help you improve. Lucas stood tall and stared into your eyes, his expression a mixture of determination and curiosity. "Now face me!" he demanded, his voice full of authority. As you faced him, Lucas gave you another order. "Punch my hand, don't hold back!" He thrust out his arm, tapping it for emphasis. You took a step back, your arm winding up for the punch. You felt an adrenaline rush come over you as you prepared to release all your energy at once. But just then, your foot snagged on something and you suddenly stumbled forward, headfirst towards Lucas. In slow motion horror, you saw fear cross his face as he realized what was about to happen before he braced for the impact of your body crashing on top of him in a mess of limbs with him underneath you. ''//Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you//'' A playful grin tugged at the corners of your lips, a glimmer of mischievousness shining in your eyes. "Well," you quipped, your voice laced with self-deprecating humor, "I always knew how to make an entrance. Who needs a red carpet when I can crash land like this?" Lucas's initial shock gave way to laughter, a deep, hearty sound that resonated in the stillness that followed. "I must admit, <<print$player_name>>," he chuckled, his voice laced with genuine amusement, "You have an uncanny talent for turning a simple task into a memorable spectacle. Bravo!" As you lay on top of Lucas, your breaths intermingling and your lips dangerously close to each other, you couldn't help but feel your heart race with anticipation. But before you could make a move, Clara's voice cut through the air, shattering the moment. "I don't want to ruin the moment but if you're gonna kiss do it already!" Clara laughed, causing the two of you to quickly scramble apart, faces flushing with embarrassment. Lucas quickly tried to change the subject. "What are you doing here?" he asked, brushing himself off and attempting to distance himself from the moment before. Clara crossed her arms, a sly smile on her face. "I saw you and <<print$player_name>> linking arms with each other and I thought to myself, maybe they will have a secret tryst in the gardens," she bubbled. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Clara's audacity. "Always the one to find the most scandalous interpretation, aren't you?" you retorted, a hint of playfulness tugging at your words. "Yet fear not, Clara, we were simply...admiring the view." Clara couldn't resist adding fuel to the fire, teasing Lucas further. "Oh, the view of each other's skin, huh?" she goaded, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Lucas sighed, realizing that you had fallen into her trap. "No, Clara! <<print$player_name>> meant the view of the plants and flowers," he retorted, his exasperation evident in his voice. "And for the record, if we were planning a secret tryst, we wouldn't be foolish enough to do it in the middle of a public garden." Clara smirked, clearly enjoying the banter. "Aha! So you were thinking about it!" she pressed, her voice filled with playful accusation. Lucas groaned, his face falling into his palm. "That's not what I—" he started, but he quickly realized arguing with Clara would only make matters worse. With a resigned expression, he turned away from the teasing duo and made his way back to the bench, buttoning his jacket back up. Clara continued to tease Lucas as he walked away, but you couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment. The moment between you and Lucas had been electric, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something there. Clara noticed your mood and walked over to you. "Hey, don't worry about Lucas. He's just a little uptight sometimes. I'm sure he didn't mean to ruin the moment." You sighed. "I know, it's just... I don't know. I felt something between us, and then he just... walked away." Clara put a hand on your shoulder. "Well, why don't we go back inside and get some banana split? That always makes me feel better." You smiled, grateful for her company. "Sure, let's go." As the two of you walked away from the garden, Clara couldn't resist making a few quips. "Well, at least you got to be on top of Lucas for a little while there. Maybe next time he'll be on top of you," she said with a wink. You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure that's exactly what he had in mind." [[Continue|Lich]]

//''(Note: I'm sure you had fun with our RO's however with the citizen of Tiara having fun and making a memorable night let's not forget the prohecy of the Gods!)''// ''(Clair's POV)'' The tantalizing whispers of the grand ball taking place within the castle had reached your ears, beckoning you to join in the revelry. Your father had insisted that you attend, urging you to seize the fleeting moments of joy life had to offer. However, your heart tugged you in a different direction—to stand by your father's side and help him navigate through the treacherous currents of grief and emotions that had engulfed him. With a silver tray balanced delicately in your grasp, laden with a delectable assortment of bread and steaming cups of coffee, you meandered through the opulent hallways of the castle. Your steps were cautious, the anticipation within you palpable, as you approached the imposing door that guarded your father's solitude. Raising your knuckles to rap gently against the door, a sudden surge of voices reached your ears, freezing you in place. "You promised me more time!" The anguished plea escaped your father's lips, his voice laced with desperation, and reverberated through the heavy wooden barrier, sending a tremor of apprehension cascading down your spine. The urgency in his words seized your heart, compelling you to remain, to linger in the shadows just a moment longer, and listen. "I understand, Varus, but unforeseen circumstances have propelled us forward, forcing us to hasten our plans," responded the raspy female voice, her words dripping with mystery and an unwavering determination that made your pulse quicken. "I just... I hope for some time with my daughter," your father implored, his voice heavy with longing and a tinge of sorrow. Suddenly, a chilling laughter erupted from the depths of the enigmatic voice, causing the fine hairs on the back of your neck to stand on end. "Ah, your daughter... or Cassandra?" the voice taunted, casting an ultimatum into the air. Your mother's name hung in the space between you, a ghostly presence that pierced your very soul. In that moment of shock and grief, your hand wobbled and shook, the tray slipping from your grasp and crashing to the floor in a cacophony of shattered plates and spilled liquid. The room seemed to swirl, your senses reeling, as you turned around to face the figure cloaked in shadow. A gasp escaped your lips, a primal instinct of fear mingled with the tinge of curiosity that danced within you. "Who are you?" you managed to choke out, your voice trembling in the air. The cloaked figure merely chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Looks like we have an eavesdropper," the voice drawled, an eerie amusement resonating in every word. The door opened and fear clutched at your chest, and instinctively, you sought refuge in the familiarity and safety of your father's arms. With unsteady steps, you rushed toward him, seeking solace and protection in his steady embrace. "Father, there's an intruder," you whispered urgently, your voice muffled against his shoulder. His hands wrapped around you, an unyielding fortress of strength and love. "Forgive me, Clara," he uttered in a somber tone, his voice heavy with regret. Confusion etched itself upon your features, and you took a step back, your hand instinctively moving to cover your gaping mouth. "What do you mean, Father?" you managed to utter, your voice barely a whisper. "Sleep," resonated the haunting words, uttered by a voice that seemed to emanate from the very depths of your subconscious. Before you could comprehend the meaning behind the command, darkness swallowed you whole, your eyes closing shut as if drawn into an abyss, and consciousness slipped away like sand through your fingertips. "Awake!" with a command that sliced through the darkness like a dagger, your eyelids fluttered open, and awareness flooded your senses. Blinking away the haze of disorientation, you found yourself confined by taut ropes, the coarse fibers digging into your skin, and seated upon the cold, unforgiving stony ground. Panic clawed at the edges of your mind as you frantically assessed your surroundings. The cavernous space enveloped you, its rough-hewn walls stretching high overhead, casting eerie shadows that danced with malevolence. The air hung heavy with the scent of damp earth, adding to the claustrophobic atmosphere. But your attention was drawn to the focal point of this chilling scene—the hauntingly lit altar that stood ominously before you. Your gaze darted toward it, heart pounding in your chest, and a gasp escaped your trembling lips. Bound upon the altar, vulnerable and helpless, was a child—a fragile soul who had been ensnared by the same sinister forces that now held you captive. Every fiber of your being recoiled at the sight, horror and determination warring within you. As the seconds stretched into an eternity, the cloaked figure emerged from the shadows, their presence commanding attention and sending shivers of dread down your spine. It was the same figure who had confronted you in the castle, their face concealed beneath the inky depths of the hood. Their voice resonated through the cavern, filling the space with an unsettling blend of authority and wicked delight. "It's time," the figure declared, their words dripping with an anticipation that set your nerves ablaze. Your mind raced, searching for a way to defy this impending catastrophe, but the ropes that constricted you held firm, cruelly denying your freedom. Panic surged within your chest, threatening to overwhelm you, yet a fierce determination ignited within your core. You refused to be a mere pawn in this twisted game of fate. Eyes darting from the captive child to the figure that loomed before you, you summoned every ounce of courage you possessed. "Release us! What do you seek to gain from this heinous act?" your voice quivered with a mixture of fear and defiance, each word punctuated with an unwavering resolve. A chilling laugh echoed through the cavern, reverberating off the stone walls like a haunting melody. "Oh, my dear, the prophecies of the gods cannot be denied," the figure hissed, their voice laced with a venomous blend of certainty and sadistic pleasure. "Sacrifices must be made, and tonight, the threads of destiny shall be rewoven." Your heart clenched in fear as the figure approached, their eyes burning into yours with searing intensity. "Let us go," you pleaded, your voice hoarse with desperation. But the figure merely smiled, their lips curling into a sinister grin. "I'm afraid that's not an option," they replied, their tone mocking. Your breath felt forced as the heavy stones of the cave seemed to push against your lungs, making you feel claustrophobic. You can almost feel the demonic presence that loomed through the air, its taunting giggle ringing off he damp walls. "You see your father made a bargain he wants to ex-" The sound of another's footsteps echoed in the darkness. "I will let him explain the details." "What does that demon mean father?" you ask, trying to keep your voice from trembling as much as your body. Your skin was scalding despite the fabric of your clothing and you held onto your fathers robe for dear life. Your father looked at you with a burdened gaze, his voice light yet sorrowful. "I want to offer you in exchange for your mother, but don't worry they gave me their word that they will not harm you and require only your presence." His assurance didn't do anything for you- how could a demon be trusted? What would mother say about this? You asked him these questions, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes as you become hysterical. "How can you trust it? Do you think mother will approve of this?" He sighed heavily, his facial features troubled by what he was about to say next. "I worry that when I cross that bridge!" He said sharply and no room for arguement. "Varus, you know what to do!" the figure commanded, a sinister wave of their hand conjuring a gleaming knife from thin air. The blade materialized, its malevolent presence casting a cold shiver across the cavern. Varus, a mere pawn in this twisted game of fate, accepted the knife, his eyes veiled by a mix of resignation and dread. Slowly, he made his way to the side of the sacrificial altar, his steps heavy with a burden too great to bear. Tears streamed down your face, mingling with pleas of desperation that fell upon deaf ears. "Father, please, don't commit this heinous act!" you cried out, your voice cracking with anguish, but the walls of the cave swallowed your entreaty, leaving only the bitter taste of despair. Your father, his face etched with determination and a darkness that eclipsed all reason, locked eyes with you, his child, once the embodiment of his deepest love. A chill gripped your heart as he raised the knife, its glint reflecting the torment within his soul. "I will do whatever it takes to have my Cassandra back," he declared, his voice carrying the weight of a man driven to the brink of madness. In that agonizing moment, your world shattered into fragments of shattered dreams and broken promises. The room echoed with the anguished sound of your own cries as you closed your eyes, seeking solace in the darkness, unable to bear witness to the horror that was about to unfold. The sickening sound of metal meeting flesh sliced through the air, tearing through the silence with a sickening squelch. It was the sound of a butcher, devoid of mercy, slaughtering an innocent lamb. Every nerve in your body recoiled, and the screams of the child echoed within the depths of your soul, etching scars that would forever mar your spirit. Varus, having served his grim purpose, relinquished the bloodstained knife, its blade a testament to the unfathomable depths of depravity that had consumed the cave. The figure, the embodiment of malevolence itself, accepted the offering with a chilling satisfaction that sent shivers of dread coursing through the air. "Perfect," the demon hissed, a perverse pleasure dripping from its words. With a sudden, swift movement, it turned the handle of the knife, burying the blade deep into Varus's heart. The air became thick with the stench of iron and the palpable weight of impending doom. Varus, betrayed by the very forces he had served, gasped, his eyes widening in a mixture of shock and agonizing realization. The demon twisted the knife, twisting the blade within the depths of his being, as if relishing in the mortal suffering that unfolded before its wicked eyes. "You liar!" with a cry of defiance, the words tore from your lips, infused with a raw, seething hatred aimed at the deceitful demon. The depth of your despair mingled with a newfound strength, kindling a fire within you that threatened to consume the very essence of your being. "Oh, my sweet Claire!" the demon mused, their voice laced with amusement and a twisted sense of affection. "Quick to judge, are we? But do you truly grasp the complexity of this wicked dance we're embroiled in?" As the demon drew nearer, the air grew thick with anticipation, the energy between you crackling with an electrifying tension. Its eyes, pools of darkness and malevolence, bore into your very soul, unsettling and captivating you in equal measure. "I shall release you now, dear Claire," it declared, its voice dripping with a venomous blend of satisfaction and sadistic pleasure. "And I shall grant you a choice: to run from this wretched place or to stay and have the answers you seek ." With a flick of its ethereal fingers, the ropes that had bound you unraveled, falling away like shackles discarded. The relief that washed over you was tinged with a heavy foreboding, as if freedom itself came at a steep price. Against all reason, against the primal instinct of self-preservation, you made the audacious choice to stay—to face the demon that held your fate in its twisted hands. The knowledge of its power, its ability to snuff out your existence with a mere flick of its fingers, hung heavy in the air. Yet, a relentless curiosity, an unquenchable thirst for truth, propelled you forward. Your voice, poised to voice a question, was abruptly silenced as the demon raised a hand, a gesture that muffled your words, choking off any inquiries that threatened to escape your trembling lips. The depths of its eyes held a tantalizing promise—a promise to reveal the answers that had eluded you for far too long. "I will give you answers," it hissed, its voice dripping with a perverse satisfaction. "There's no need to ask them. Instead, I will provide you with three compelling reasons to listen to me, to heed my words." "First," it began, a twisted smile curling upon its lips, "I have already framed you for the heinous murders of both your father and the innocent child. Even as we speak, a carefully crafted letter awaits discovery at your home, a letter that falsely confesses to the crimes. And with a mere touch of my influence, I can possess an unsuspecting bystander, molding them into a puppet, a witness to your alleged acts. The world will turn against you, casting you as the perpetrator of unspeakable atrocities." A gasp of disbelief escaped your lips, a stark realization settling within your chest. The demon had orchestrated a sinister web, ensnaring you in a tangled tapestry of deceit and impending doom. The walls of your former life, once a sanctuary, now threatened to crumble under the weight of this revelation. "Second," the demon continued, its voice dripping with a knowing inflection, "this door before us, this threshold of arcane protection, can only be opened by the blood of my descendants—descendants who possess a unique connection to the dark forces that permeate this realm. Place your hand upon it, Claire, and test the veracity of your lineage. Discover if you truly bear the mark of Cassandra's blood." Your body trembled with uncertainty, instinct warring against the enigmatic proposition set forth by the demon. With hesitant steps, you approached the ancient gate, its weathered surface emanating an eerie energy. The weight of its significance bore down upon your outstretched hand, a tremor coursing through your veins. And then, in a display of mystic power, the gate responded. A crimson glow suffused the aged metal, pulsating with a disconcerting energy. The very essence of your father's blood, mingled with the innocence of the slain child, served as the key that unlocked this forbidden portal. "Thirdly," the demon revealed, a wicked satisfaction dancing within its eyes, "it seems that you, Claire, are not only my captive but also my kin—a descendant of mine, a bloodline intertwined with the darkness that courses through our veins." The declaration hung in the air, a noxious cloud of revelation. Shock rippled through your being, manifesting in the form of a stunned gasp. This monstrosity, this embodiment of darkness, was claiming the unthinkable—it was asserting its role as your grandmother. "How can this be? You're a de—" you began, but she swiftly interrupted you, her voice dripping with indignation. "A demon?" she cackled, a wicked delight twisting her features. "I assure you, my dear, I am far more than a mere demon. I am a lich, a being of unparalleled power and immortality." She straightened herself, a regal air enveloping her form. "And not just any lich—I am your grandmother, Alexandra Tudor. Show respect when addressing me." The weight of her revelation hung in the air, threatening to upend the very foundations of your understanding. How could this monstrous entity, this embodiment of darkness, claim the title of your grandmother? Confusion and disbelief swirled within you, rendering you momentarily speechless. "Step forward," Alexandra commanded, her voice resonating with a mix of authority and anticipation. "Enter this sacred place, and claim what is rightfully yours." You gazed ahead, drawn by an intangible force that seemed to emanate from the depths of the darkness. It beckoned to you, its call irresistible, promising untold power and knowledge. With hesitant but resolute steps, you ventured forward, the purple glow intensifying with each passing moment. As you drew nearer, the source of the ethereal radiance came into focus—a grotesque and ancient scythe. Its appearance was a macabre amalgamation of bone and flesh, with jagged steel embedded throughout its wicked form. The bones, mottled and weathered, exuded an aura of history and malevolence. "This is no ordinary scythe," Alexandra declared, her voice tinged with a mix of pride and menace. "It is a relic steeped in the blood of hundreds, a conduit of death and power." Her eyes gleamed with a predatory light as she watched you approach the weapon. Reaching out, your hand trembled with a mix of trepidation and anticipation. As your fingers wrapped around the worn, bony handle, a surge of energy coursed through your veins. The scythe responded to your touch, transforming before your eyes into a gleaming spear, its form shifting effortlessly, as if responding to your unspoken desires. "Intriguing, isn't it?" she whispered, marveling at the seamless transformation. With newfound confidence, you twirled the weapon in the air, its weight feeling as natural in your hands as if you had trained for years to master such a weapon. The ancient scythe-turned-spear hummed with latent power, its eerie glow casting an otherworldly sheen across your determined countenance. It whispered to you, its voice a dark melody of untapped potential and hidden secrets. The depths of its history and purpose stirred within your mind, granting you glimpses of forgotten fighting styles and techniques. "Can you, grandmother, shed some light upon your history?" The words tumbled from your lips, a delicate plea wrapped in curiosity and a desperate need for clarity. A twisted smile graced Alexandra's lips, her eyes gleaming with a mix of ancient wisdom and hidden agendas. "Soon, my child," she whispered, her voice laced with a haunting melody. "But now, we stand on the precipice of a prophecy, bound by a shared destiny that demands our attention." Without warning, her form blurred, twisting and swirling as if consumed by a whirlwind of shadows. In an ethereal dance, she merged with your very being, her essence intermingling with your own. The sensation was overwhelming—a burning surge of power surged through your veins, emanating from the point where her essence melded with yours. As your vision cleared, your gaze fell upon your wrist, now marked with an indelible symbol. A crow perched atop a skull, etched into your flesh—a stark reminder of the dark forces at play, a sign of the burdens you now carried. "Revenge," her voice echoed within your mind, an eerie chorus of malice and determination. "The spawn of Durandal and Aeloria, they shall pay for their transgressions against me, against our bloodline. With your aid, my dear grandchild, vengeance will be ours." Mad laughter erupted from the depths of your being, a chilling symphony that echoed through the recesses of your mind. The duality within you, the merging of your own essence with that of your vengeful grandmother, stoked the fires of wrath and ambition. The stage was set, the players assembled. The clash of titans, the culmination of centuries-old feuds, and the pursuit of a prophecy that would shape the very fate of the realms—all converged within your trembling grasp. [[Continue|End Of 3]]

Heyo! I'm guessing you're excited for the climax but sadly that's the end of Chapter 3. Know the answers and see the prophecy come to frution in Chapter 4: Judgement Day Plus a teaser to give you goosebumps. ''//"The dragon!" Era begins slowly. "What of her?" Oris asked curious. "Stripped her of her powers!" ''//"What is the court judgement?" Oris asked as gavels begin to raise in the air.//'' So that's it for now and N is very excited-ish to tell you another tale of a OC of mine. So in you go! [[Continue|N3]]

Same as before you entered the room and sat down on the plush comfy chair. "So wonderful to see you again Reader!" you see N is still wearing their porcelien mask. "Did some singing don't you?" you laugh. "The Author said that I should get out of the room and socialize with people!" N laughs. "Anyways, this time I will regale you the tale of Clara before she was transformed to thhe fiery woman you know now. Once upon a time in the Kingdom of Tiara, a grand celebration filled the air as King Richard and his beloved wife reveled in their love. Their joy knew no bounds when they discovered that a new life was growing within the queen's womb. The kingdom eagerly awaited the arrival of the heir who would carry their hopes and dreams into the future. But fate, in its cruel and capricious nature, had other plans in store. On the day of the much-anticipated birth, the atmosphere in the grand chamber shifted from joyous anticipation to somber mourning. The queen's life was tragically claimed by the very act of bringing forth new life into the world. The air hung heavy with sorrow as the kingdom grieved the loss of their beloved queen and the king mourned the love of his life. Amidst the cries of grief and the silent tears, a tiny baby girl emerged, her arrival serving as a bittersweet reminder of the beauty and fragility of life. The king, struck by a profound mixture of emotions, cradled his daughter in his arms, his heart heavy with both love and sorrow. He named her Clara, a name that would forever be etched in the annals of Tiara's history. In the days that followed, Clara grew in the care of her doting father, King Richard. The castle walls whispered stories of the vibrant spirit and fierce determination that coursed through her veins. Clara was a flame waiting to be ignited, a force of nature yearning to break free from the shackles of grief that held her father and the kingdom captive. Except this version of Princess Clara is not very interesting to say the least. "You mean she's boring?" you ask surprised. The kingdom whispered of her mishaps, recounting tales of shattered glass, cascading plates, and the chaos that ensued whenever Clara was near. She was a walking hurricane, leaving a trail of broken objects and wide-eyed onlookers in her wake. Yet, beneath her clumsy exterior, Clara possessed a gentle heart and an unwavering determination to rise above her self-proclaimed title as the "disaster princess." One particularly eventful day, as Clara navigated the bustling corridors of the castle, disaster struck with impeccable timing. She tripped on the hem of her own gown, her delicate feet entangled in the fabric, and a symphony of crashing sounds reverberated through the air. Plates soared through the room like mischievous birds, and the once-immaculate glassware shattered into countless shards that sparkled like fallen stars. Amidst the chaos, a hushed silence fell over the onlookers, their eyes widening in disbelief. Clara, the embodiment of mishaps and comedic timing, stood amidst the wreckage with an expression of both surprise and resignation. "Well, that certainly wasn't what I had planned," she quipped, her voice laced with a touch of self-deprecating humor. The room erupted in laughter, their initial shock dissolving into mirthful amusement. Another pet peeve that I found to be irriating is in MC's original story is that she is always kidnapped like the entirety of the story revolves around MC needs to rescue the princess from Basilisk, Minotaurs, Griffen, etc. "You're joking?" No I'm not Reader, she is what you say the Ashley Graham of RE:4. "That's worse indeed!" you shake your head. Despite this rescuing, Clara is still shy and her let's say unwavering spirit only comes out in the middle part. In here she started to finally train herself in self-defence and try to overcome her timidness. "You don't really like her do you?" you laugh at N. More like irriated that her character development is so draggin and that will be the end of our meeting. "What! That's it?" you blurt out. I apologize, Clara is not a very fun story for me to tell you and nothing is really interesting about her. So I bid you farewell Readers and I will try my best to compensate my lacking for this session. [[Continue|Chapter 4]]

''//Chapter 4: Judgement Day//'' As the golden rays of the sun slowly crept over the horizon, casting a warm glow upon the world, the familiar sound of a rooster's crow filled the air. The triumphant heralding of a new day echoed through the countryside, signaling the dawning of fresh possibilities. Oblivious to the waking world around you, your eyelids fluttered open, revealing a gentle smile that danced upon your lips. It was a smile borne from the lingering echoes of yesterday's events, an echo that still resonated within your heart. With each tender breath, you embraced the possibilities that lay before you, the memories of the grand ball etched into the depths of your soul. The echoes of laughter and enchanting melodies still danced in your mind, as if the very air resonated with the magic of the night. It was a moment of profound significance, a chapter in your life that would forever be cherished. And then, with a flicker of recollection, your thoughts turned to the one with whom you had shared a remarkable evening. The image of their mesmerizing eyes, the warmth of their touch, and the cadence of their voice flooded your mind, igniting a surge of emotion within your heart. The mere thought of their presence enveloped you in a sweet embrace. The delicate touch of their hand against yours, the gentle sweep across the dance floor, the intoxicating scent of their perfume lingering in the air—all these memories painted a picture of a night that defied mere words. But of course! Who are we even pertaining to? [[Lucas|Lucas Memory]] [[Lucian|Lucian Memory]] [[Variel|Variel Memory]] [[Clara|Clara Memory]]

As the soft rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, illuminating your room, you stirred awake, your fluttering eyes slowly adjusting to the new day. The gentle symphony of birdsong reached your ears, their melodious tunes filling the air with a sense of tranquility. With a shake of your head, you tried to banish the remnants of sleep, attempting to comprehend the events of the previous night that seemed to have unfolded like a whirlwind. The memory of Lucas, his warm body pressed against yours, sent a shiver down your spine, a delicious tremor that lingered in the depths of your being. It was a stolen moment, an electrifying connection that had taken you by surprise. Yet, as if on cue, Clara had barged in, her timing impeccable, interrupting the delicate dance of emotions that had begun to weave between you and Lucas. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at Clara's untimely intrusion. Her presence had shattered the fragile intimacy that had blossomed between you and Lucas, snuffing out the sparks of possibility that had danced in the air. But then again, if Clara hadn't interrupted, Lucas may not have found the courage to confess his desire for a clandestine tryst with you. The conflicting emotions swirled within you, like a tempestuous storm threatening to consume your thoughts. On one hand, the memory of Lucas's proximity ignited a fire within your veins, the lingering touch of his body a tantalizing promise of unexplored passion. On the other hand, the intrusion of Clara had left you with a lingering sense of longing, a desire to explore the depths of what could have been. Oh well there meight be a next time and maybe you will try to find some location to where Clara is unavailbe. You stay in bed, mind going back to that night where you Clara walking side by side and of course to your surprise Lucas returned. ''//(Flashback Of Last Night)//'' The night sky shimmered above, adorned with countless stars, their brilliance illuminating the path beneath your feet. But in stark contrast to the celestial beauty, your heart weighed heavy with an unspoken burden. Each step you took through the tranquil gardens felt burdened, as if the weight of your emotions was dragging you down. Clara, ever perceptive, noticed your sullen demeanor and couldn't help but inquire. Concern etched on her face, she turned to you, her eyes searching for answers. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice laced with genuine worry. Unable to meet her gaze, you kept your head lowered, your eyes fixated on the ground. "Nothing," you replied tersely, your tone a reflection of the deep-seated frustration you felt towards her. In your heart, you couldn't help but blame Clara for disrupting the delicate and intimate moment you had hoped to share with Lucas. A musical laughter escaped Clara's lips, ringing through the stillness of the night. It was a playful, teasing sound that hinted at her knowledge of your inner turmoil. "Are you mad?" she asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Mad at me?" For a fleeting moment, you allowed your gaze to meet hers, the intensity of your emotions reflected in your eyes. "Very much," you retorted, your words dripping with biting resentment. The moon bathed the garden in a soft, ethereal glow, casting a luminous backdrop for the confrontation unfolding between you and Clara. The laughter that had escaped Clara's lips echoed through the night, intermingling with the rustling leaves and creating a symphony of mirth and tension. You crossed your arms defiantly, your expression a mix of frustration and stubbornness. Clara mirrored your stance, her eyes ablaze with a fiery determination as she locked gazes with you. "But you interrupted a perfectly romantic moment," you insisted, your voice tinged with a hint of frustration. "It's not my fault!" Clara's laughter continued, seemingly uncontainable. "Lucas hesitated when he had the perfect opportunity to kiss you on the ground!" Her voice, filled with both amusement and exasperation, defended her actions. Your brows furrowed, a mix of annoyance and longing tugging at your heartstrings. Crossing your arms, you stood your ground, unwilling to back down. "Still," you declared with a huff, "you interrupted a genuinely romantic moment!" Clara snickered, her amusement barely contained. "What's wrong with you guys? Why do you insist on savoring every moment and making it all romantic?" Her voice held a hint of playful rebellion, as if she were challenging the conventional notions of love. "Why not be like me, no beating around the bush and just getting on with the action? Besides, you both know what you want, so go ahead and claim it!" Clara's words flowed like a lecture, as if she held a diploma in the chemistry of love. The tension in the garden momentarily dissolved as a familiar voice cut through the air, causing your heart to leap with joy and a radiant smile to spread across your face. It was Lucas, and his mere presence illuminated the night with a sense of warmth and comfort. In his hand, he carried a plate, a surprising addition to the scene that piqued everyone's curiosity. Clara's laughter was interrupted by Lucas's voice, his words dripping with sincerity and a touch of playful defiance. "Because, Clara," he began, his voice carrying a hint of conviction, "we are not like you. We value the intricacies of knowing one another, of forging a deep and intimate connection. Love is more than just physical gratification; it is about sharing our passions, our souls with another person." Lucas's words reverberated through the stillness of the night, each syllable infused with his unwavering belief in the depth and significance of true love. Clara, unable to contain her laughter, chuckled heartily. "Ah, I think that sounds like a confession, Lucas!" Her laughter echoed in the garden, a playful jab that hinted at the potential blossoming between you and Lucas. A flicker of annoyance crossed Lucas's features, his gaze narrowing as he fixed his eyes on Clara. "No, Clara," he retorted cheekily, a mischievous glint in his eye, "it's not a confession. It's a lesson for you to learn and understand." His tone carried a mix of firmness and teasing, as if he were determined to enlighten Clara about the deeper meaning of love. Clara's sly grin stretched across her face, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Trust me, Lucas! If I had my way, I would have already conquered that territory," she quipped, her words laced with playful innuendo. Meanwhile, Lucas approached you, closing the distance between you with purpose. In his outstretched hand, he presented a beautifully crafted banana split, a dessert you had expressed a craving for earlier. The sight of it made your heart flutter, and a blush adorned your cheeks. "I heard earlier that you crave it yes?" With a gentle smile, you accepted the spoon and held the bowl of tempting sweetness. "You're so thoughtful," you gushed, your gratitude and admiration evident in your voice. Lucas's smile grew wider as he placed the silver tray on a nearby bench. "You're welcome," he replied warmly, his eyes never leaving yours. There was an undeniable connection between you, an unspoken understanding that seemed to intensify with every passing moment. Clara, though she maintained her playful demeanor, couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. She clapped her hands together, her expression a mixture of awe and jealousy. "You guys are making me so jealous," she admitted, a pout forming on her lips. "I wish I had the same love and those puppy eyes you two have for each other." Lucas's eyes sparkled with mischief as he aimed a playful smirk in Clara's direction. "Perhaps if you learn to truly love someone and treat them with kindness and respect, you might just find a connection as deep as the one between MC and me," he teased, his gaze shifting towards you, emphasizing his point. Caught off guard by Lucas' words, you were momentarily taken aback, the spoonful of ice cream causing you to choke and cough. The intensity of Lucas' statement echoed in your ears, leaving you both surprised and intrigued by the depth of his feelings. Lucas, his eyes widening in realization, quickly backpedaled, stumbling over his words in an attempt to clarify his intentions. "No, that's not what I meant!" he blurted out, his face flushing with embarrassment. Clara, a knowing smile playing on her lips, shook her head in amusement. "Oh, Lucas... Lucas..." she chuckled softly. "You always find yourself in these situations, don't you? The truth just slips out, no matter how hard you try to hide it." As the moon cast its gentle glow upon the garden, Lucas rolled his eyes at Clara's continued teasing. Gathering what was left of his dignity, he composed himself and turned his attention towards you, his gaze filled with urgency and a hint of vulnerability. His voice carried a weight of importance as he spoke. "<<print $player_name>>, there's something I need to talk to you about," he said, his words hanging in the air with a sense of urgency and anticipation. You could see the intensity etched upon Lucas' face, his features illuminated even in the dimly lit surroundings. Your heart raced, eager to discover what weighed so heavily on his mind. With sincerity and curiosity, you responded, "Alright, Lucas. I'm here, ready to listen." The two of you exchanged a knowing glance, acknowledging the unspoken need for privacy in this moment. All eyes turned towards Clara, who stood there, a metaphorical elephant in the room, unaware of the depth of emotions swirling around her. "What?" she asked, her confusion evident. Lucas took a deep breath, his tone edged with a hint of frustration. "Would you mind giving us some privacy?" he requested, his voice carrying a firmness that brooked no argument. Clara blinked repeatedly, her mind struggling to catch up with the unfolding situation. Finally, realization dawned upon her, and she smacked her forehead in a display of comedic self-awareness. "Oh! OHHHHH! Of course!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a jovial understanding. "We wouldn't want me interrupting the moment again, now, would we?" with a jovial skip in her step, she gracefully retreated from your presence, leaving the two of you bathed in the intimate embrace of silence. With Clara's sneaky presence finally dissipating into the night, leaving only the two of you in the garden, a sense of urgency filled the air. Lucas fixed his gaze upon you, his eyes filled with a mix of determination and vulnerability. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he mustered the courage to address the burning issue at hand. "We need to talk about you chasing me," he stated, his words direct and devoid of any hesitation. Your hands instinctively tightened, your fingers interlocking as you placed your untouched banana split on the bench beside you. The sweet dessert suddenly lost its appeal as your appetite waned, all your attention now focused on Lucas and the impending conversation. "What about it?" you inquired, your voice laced with a hint of defiance, though deep down, you already knew the answer he was about to give. "Stop it!" Lucas commanded firmly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, stirring a mix of frustration and confusion within you. "Why?" you retorted, the irritation creeping into your voice. The push and pull between the two of you had become exhausting, and you yearned for clarity and understanding. Lucas's eyes hardened, a flicker of intensity dancing in their depths. "Don't make this any more difficult than it already is, <<print $player_name>>," he admonished, his voice laced with a sense of urgency. The weight of his words lingered in the air, hinting at a deeper meaning behind his request to cease your pursuit. Feeling the weight of his resistance, you refused to back down, desperate for a genuine explanation that would cut through the fog of uncertainty. "Then give me a reason, Lucas. Don't just shut me out and tell me to stop pursuing you," you pleaded, your voice trembling with a mix of anxiety and a longing for the truth. As the intensity of the moment threatened to break your resolve, Lucas's gaze softened, his eyes reflecting the depth of his emotions. He could see the vulnerability etched across your face, the unspoken fear of rejection lurking in your eyes. "It's because..." he began, his voice trailing off, leaving the words hanging in the air. ''//(End Of Flashback)//'' As the knock resounded through the door, your thoughts were abruptly interrupted, pulling you away from your reverie of the gardens. With a sigh, you rose from your bed and made your way to the door, a sense of anticipation lingering in the air. Opening it, you were greeted by the sight of Sam, her face adorned with a radiant smile, accompanied by a group of servants bearing a wooden tub filled with water. "Good morning, <<print $player_name>>!" Sam's voice bubbled with uncontainable enthusiasm, causing a chuckle to escape your lips. "And a good morning to you too, Sam!" you responded, reciprocating her infectious energy. Apologizing for the interruption, Sam explained that the King wished to meet with you to discuss important matters. Gesturing for the servants to enter with the tub of water, she guided them past you into your room. Stepping aside, you allowed them passage, noting their efficiency as they maneuvered the cumbersome container. Curiosity tinged your voice as you asked, "Only me?" Sam couldn't help but cover her mouth and giggle at your nervous inquiry. "You and the team, silly," she replied in a lighthearted, almost childish tone, dispelling your worries with her reassuring words. Relief flooded over you as you let out a relieved sigh. "Oh, thank goodness," you uttered, the weight on your shoulders lifting. "I'll be there momentarily," you added, acknowledging the impending meeting. Sam gracefully bowed her head in acknowledgment. "Very well. Just call upon us if you need anything," she offered, her voice filled with a genuine concern for your well-being. With a final bow from the servants, they followed Sam's lead, retreating down the hallway and leaving you to the solitude of your room. As you stepped into the inviting warmth of the water, a gentle sigh escaped your lips, carried away by the steam rising around you. The tension in your muscles began to melt away, replaced by a profound sense of relaxation and rejuvenation. The ripples formed by your feet cascaded gently, creating a soothing rhythm that echoed through the room. Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to be enveloped by the tranquility of the moment. The soft caress of the water against your skin sent shivers of delight coursing through your body. Each droplet seemed to wash away the weariness that had accumulated within you, revitalizing your spirit with its gentle touch. It was a sanctuary of calmness, a sanctuary you desperately needed. But amidst the serenity, Lucas' words lingered in your mind like an unwelcome guest. His words, spoken with such terror in his voice, reverberated through your thoughts, injecting a chilling undercurrent into the otherwise peaceful atmosphere. The memory of his petrified features seemed to taint the purity of the water, casting shadows over the sanctuary you had sought within its depths. You couldn't shake off the unease that settled upon you, even in the midst of this blissful interlude. The conflicting emotions churned within you, the juxtaposition of relaxation and turmoil intertwining like a dance of light and darkness. It was as if Lucas' presence loomed over your every thought, a constant reminder of the danger that lurked in the shadows. And for the very first time you see Lucas defeated, a sight you thought you will never experienced in your life You took a deep breath, determined to regain control over your own mind. With each exhale, you visualized expelling Lucas' words, banishing them from your consciousness. Yet, try as you might, their echo persisted, an unwelcome refrain that refused to fade away. ''//(Note: Sorry Reader, I don't want to tell you those words so it will not be spoiled ;)//'' [[Next|Pick Attire For The Court]]

''//(Note: Looks like Lucian made an impression on you with his body gestures ;)//'' The first rays of dawn peeked through the parted curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room, as the familiar sound of a rooster's crow reached your ears. With a contented smile playing on your lips, you gradually allowed your heavy eyelids to flutter open, welcoming the arrival of a new day. Stretching your limbs with a satisfying stretch, you felt the comforting sensation of sleep gradually dissipating, leaving behind a renewed energy that coursed through your veins. As you shifted in bed, propping yourself up on your elbows, you couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle that resonated with the lingering joy of the previous night's festivities. Memories danced vividly in your mind, replaying like a vivid movie, each scene etched with clarity and filled with a kaleidoscope of emotions. It was as if you were an eager spectator, watching the events unfold on the ceiling above you. The ceiling, adorned with intricate patterns and swirls, seemed to transform into a canvas, bringing the night's enchanting moments to life. The moon, suspended in a star-studded sky, radiated its ethereal glow, casting a silvery luminescence upon the sprawling garden below. The vibrant colors of the flowers burst forth, their petals delicately swaying in the gentle breeze, as if performing a harmonious dance to the rhythm of nature. In the center of this enchanting tapestry, the image of Lucian materialized, his charismatic smile captivating your attention. His eyes sparkled with a warmth that reached deep within your soul, inviting you into a world where worries and troubles were momentarily forgotten. The memory of his presence filled you with a sense of comfort and belonging, as if his smile held the key to unlocking the secrets of your heart. ''//(Flashback Of Last Night)//'' As the echoes of the exhilarating dance battle with Lucian still reverberated in the air, the two of you decided to take a leisurely stroll through the enchanting gardens. A desire for privacy and the opportunity to immerse yourselves in the lush greenery prompted you to veer away from the bustling ballroom. There was something magical about the gardens, a serene sanctuary where whispers of nature danced harmoniously with the soft breeze. Side by side, your steps falling into sync, you couldn't help but feel a growing warmth in your heart. The radiant smile that graced your lips seemed to have a life of its own, widening with each passing moment. The anticipation of what lay ahead and the undeniable connection that had formed between you and Lucian filled the air, electrifying the atmosphere around you. As you walked, the vibrant colors of the flowers seemed to bloom brighter, their petals unfurling in delicate perfection. The scent of roses and lilies mingled in the air, teasing your senses and enveloping you in a symphony of fragrances. The path beneath your feet felt like a velvet carpet, cushioning each step and carrying you deeper into a world where time seemed to stand still. As the energetic steps of your walk through the gardens came to a momentary pause, Lucian's voice broke the tranquility, his words echoing with a mix of satisfaction and hunger. "Whew! That dance battle sure worked up an appetite," he exclaimed, a lighthearted chuckle escaping his lips. Almost on cue, your stomach rumbled in agreement, its empty state making itself known. "I couldn't agree more," you replied, your hand instinctively moving to soothe the grumbling hunger within you. Suddenly, a voice called out from behind, breaking the silence and capturing your attention. Turning around, your eyes fell upon N, who was swiftly approaching with an infectious enthusiasm. In N's hands were two neatly packed paper bags, filled with the tantalizing aroma of freshly prepared food. "Hey guys!" N called out, a wide grin adorning their face. "I completely forgot that the battle must have left you both famished. So, here are some chicken sandwiches to replenish your energy." A surge of gratitude washed over you as N extended the bags towards you and Lucian. You eagerly accepted the offerings, the warm weight of the bags comforting in your hands. The tantalizing scent of the chicken sandwiches wafted through the air, mingling with the sweet fragrance of the garden blooms. The sandwiches themselves were carefully wrapped, their contents hidden, leaving your taste buds in anticipation of the flavorful surprises within. As you unwrapped the paper, the anticipation grew. The soft bun gave way to succulent chicken, perfectly seasoned and cooked to perfection. Crisp lettuce and ripe tomatoes provided a refreshing crunch, while a subtle hint of tangy sauce added a burst of flavor. Each bite was a symphony of textures and tastes, satisfying your hunger and bringing a smile to your face. "Thanks a lot N!" Lucian's appetite voraciously devoured the savory chicken sandwich, his lips smacking with delight as he relished each flavorful bite. Gratitude overflowed from his mouth, mingling with his exuberant chewing. N's laughter emerged from behind their porcelain mask, a symphony of mirth that danced in the air like musical notes. "No worries, Lucian," N responded, their voice carrying a soothing warmth. "And of course, to complement such a delectable feast, you need something to quench your thirst." As if conjuring magic from thin air, N's hand disappeared behind their back, only to reemerge holding a resplendent silver tray. Upon its polished surface sat two elegant glasses filled with the vibrant glow of freshly squeezed orange juice. The aroma of citrus wafted through the air, a tantalizing invitation to refreshment. Surprised and captivated by N's display, you couldn't help but express your astonishment. "Are you a magician or something?" You marveled at the seamless grace with which N had produced the tray, a feat that seemed to defy logic. N's mischievous smile curled beneath their porcelain mask. "I am a person of many talents," they replied, their voice carrying a subtle undercurrent of intrigue. "However I must get going now, it was wonderful spectating the duel between the two of you." With a graceful bow, N bid their farewell, Lucian's cheerful voice pierced through the air, his hand gracefully swaying in a final gesture of farewell. "Byeee!" he called out, a vibrant energy resonating in his words. As the gentle night breeze tousled his hair, Lucian's curiosity grew. He turned to you, glimmer of intrigue shining in his eyes. "I wonder," he mused, his voice carrying a mix of anticipation and uncertainty, "what do you think they look like without the mask?" You tilt your head, deep in thought. With a finger pressed against your chin, you contemplated the possibilities. "Perhaps," you began, your voice laced with a hint of wonder, "their face is flawless, adorned with a beauty that surpasses imagination. It could be that they hide it to protect others from being overwhelmed by such radiance." Yet, a pang of uncertainty tugged at your heart, reminding you that reality often defied the dreams spun by imagination. Could their face be marred by unimaginable horrors, concealing a visage that would elicit gasps of dismay? "Or maybe they're ugly." as the words escaped your lips, they hung heavy in the air, charged with a rawness that bordered on cruelty. The gentle breeze seemed to falter, as if recoiling from the harshness of your remark. A moment of silence followed, heavy with the weight of your blunt statement. But then, a playful smirk crept across Lucian's face, his eyes sparkling with mischief and amusement. "That's a bit mean, don't you think?" Lucian chuckled, his voice laced with a hint of gentle reproach. "Perhaps, but hey, we're just guessing here," you said, shaking your head with a smirk playing on your lips. Lucian burst into laughter at your response, the sound echoing through the air. But then, his laughter suddenly turned into a fit of coughs, his body doubling over as if in pain. Alarmed, you quickly reached out to support him, your hand steadying his trembling form. His complexion, once vibrant and warm, now appeared drained of color, his lips quivering with an unspoken distress. "Are you alright?" you asked, your voice filled with genuine concern. Your eyes searched his face for any sign of relief or reassurance, but instead, the worry etched on your features deepened as you observed the pallor that had washed over him. "Something is-" Lucian began to say, his voice strained and interrupted by another sudden coughing fit. Before you could delve deeper into his condition, an urgent knock on the door echoed through the room, shattering the momentary peace. The sound reverberated with a sense of urgency, demanding your attention and diverting your focus away from your reverie. ''//(End Flashback)//'' As the knock resounded through the door, your thoughts were abruptly interrupted, pulling you away from your reverie of the gardens. With a sigh, you rose from your bed and made your way to the door, a sense of anticipation lingering in the air. Opening it, you were greeted by the sight of Sam, her face adorned with a radiant smile, accompanied by a group of servants bearing a wooden tub filled with water. "Good morning, <<print $player_name>>!" Sam's voice bubbled with uncontainable enthusiasm, causing a chuckle to escape your lips. "And a good morning to you too, Sam!" you responded, reciprocating her infectious energy. Apologizing for the interruption, Sam explained that the King wished to meet with you to discuss important matters. Gesturing for the servants to enter with the tub of water, she guided them past you into your room. Stepping aside, you allowed them passage, noting their efficiency as they maneuvered the cumbersome container. Curiosity tinged your voice as you asked, "Only me?" Sam couldn't help but cover her mouth and giggle at your nervous inquiry. "You and the team, silly," she replied in a lighthearted, almost childish tone, dispelling your worries with her reassuring words. Relief flooded over you as you let out a relieved sigh. "Oh, thank goodness," you uttered, the weight on your shoulders lifting. "I'll be there momentarily," you added, acknowledging the impending meeting. Sam gracefully bowed her head in acknowledgment. "Very well. Just call upon us if you need anything," she offered, her voice filled with a genuine concern for your well-being. With a final bow from the servants, they followed Sam's lead, retreating down the hallway and leaving you to the solitude of your room. As you stepped into the inviting warmth of the water, a gentle sigh escaped your lips, carried away by the steam rising around you. The tension in your muscles began to melt away, replaced by a profound sense of relaxation and rejuvenation. The ripples formed by your feet cascaded gently, creating a soothing rhythm that echoed through the room. Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to be enveloped by the tranquility of the moment. The soft caress of the water against your skin sent shivers of delight coursing through your body. Each droplet seemed to wash away the weariness that had accumulated within you, revitalizing your spirit with its gentle touch. It was a sanctuary of calmness, a sanctuary you desperately needed. But amidst the serenity, Lucian's words lingered in your mind like an unwelcome guest. His words, spoken with such terror in his voice, reverberated through your thoughts, injecting a chilling undercurrent into the otherwise peaceful atmosphere. The memory of his petrified features seemed to taint the purity of the water, casting shadows over the sanctuary you had sought within its depths. You couldn't shake off the unease that settled upon you, even in the midst of this blissful interlude. The conflicting emotions churned within you, the juxtaposition of relaxation and turmoil intertwining like a dance of light and darkness. It was as if Lucian's presence loomed over your every thought, a constant reminder of the danger that lurked in the shadows. And for the very first time you see Lucian traumatized, a sight you thought you will never experienced in your life You took a deep breath, determined to regain control over your own mind. With each exhale, you visualized expelling Lucian's words, banishing them from your consciousness. Yet, try as you might, their echo persisted, an unwelcome refrain that refused to fade away. ''//(Note: Sorry Reader, I don't want to tell you those words so it will not be spoiled ;)//'' [[Next|Pick Attire For The Court]]

''//(Note: Haha of course, your first pick I presume but if not well then I congratulate you ;)//'' As you let out a deep sigh, a rush of emotions surges through your veins, entwining with the very fabric of your being. With your arms resting behind your head, you stare up at the vast expanse of the ceiling, contemplating the enigma that is Variel. There is an inexplicable allure, an intoxicating magnetism that draws you to her with an intensity that borders on the reckless. It's those mesmerizing crimson eyes that leave an indelible mark upon your soul, burning with a fire that consumes your thoughts and ignites a passion deep within. They hold secrets untold, mysteries that unravel in the depths of their gaze, captivating you and unraveling your defenses. Her smirk, oh that mischievous smirk, it stirs something primal within you, awakening desires that run deep, buried beneath layers of reason and caution. It's a magnetic pull, a dangerous dance between pleasure and pain, one that leaves you breathless and yearning for more. Despite the scars she may have inflicted, both emotional and physical, there is an allure to the turbulence that dances between you, a tumultuous storm that you cannot resist. If your friends were here, witnessing the whirlwind of emotions that swirl within you, they might raise concerned brows and suggest seeking therapy for embracing a love that borders on self-destruction. But to you, it is precisely this intriguing and tempestuous nature of Variel that makes her the most magnificent creature in your eyes. It defies reason and logic, transcending the ordinary confines of love, plunging you into a realm of madness and ecstasy. "What if?" Lost in a sea of swirling thoughts, you find yourself pondering the elusive concept of "what if." What if Variel were to shed her condescending demeanor and view you as her equal? What if, instead of inflicting pain, she showered you with affection and tended to your every need? The possibilities dance through your mind like ethereal wisps, conjuring images of idyllic dates and stolen moments filled with tenderness and love. In this vivid daydream, you imagine strolling hand in hand with Variel through a sun-kissed park, the gentle breeze carrying laughter and whispered confessions. A picnic blanket sprawled beneath the shade of a towering oak tree beckons, adorned with a feast of delectable treats. As you sit side by side, sharing bites of delicious food, time seems to stand still. Variel's once-cold gaze softens, her crimson eyes brimming with warmth and adoration. She brushes a strand of hair from your face, her touch gentle and comforting, as if promising to protect you from any harm. The scenario shifts, and now you find yourself in an elegant restaurant, bathed in the warm glow of flickering candlelight. The air is thick with anticipation as you and Variel engage in playful banter and heartfelt conversations, the clinking of glasses punctuating your shared moments of joy. Her condescending tone has given way to sincere compliments and genuine interest in your thoughts and dreams. The waiter brings forth a tantalizing array of gourmet delicacies, each dish a testament to the love and care that Variel showers upon you. But alas, these fantasies remain confined to the realm of what-ifs, a bittersweet torment that teases your imagination but eludes your reality. The gift and curse of such musings lies in their ability to ignite a spark of hope, to make you yearn for a reality that may never come to pass. The what-ifs taunt you, tempting you with endless possibilities, only to remind you that they exist solely within the realms of dreams and fantasies. As the rays of dawn bathed the world in a soft, golden glow, you clung steadfastly to the flickering ember of hope, refusing to let it be extinguished. It burned within you, an unyielding flame that danced with resilience, promising to guide your every step until your last breath. With a chuckle escaping your lips, your mind catapulted back to the magical night that unfolded just hours ago. The exhilarating griffen joyride had brought you and Variel closer, and yet, as the moment to part ways arrived, a delightful surprise awaited you. Standing in awe, you couldn't help but burst into laughter at the sight that greeted your return to your room. There she was, perched gracefully upon the balcony, a vision bathed in moonlight. Variel, the perfect dragoness, sat like a queen upon the edge like a throne, her presence commanding yet infused with a mischievous charm. A playful smile curved her lips, as if she held a secret that only the two of you shared. In that moment, time stood still, allowing you to savor every exquisite detail. The moon cast its ethereal glow upon the balcony, painting shadows that danced upon the railing, while Variel's crimson-hued locks cascaded in gentle waves around her shoulders. Her eyes, pools of burning vermillion, sparkled with a tantalizing mix of superiority and amusement. ''//(Flashback Of Last Night)//'' Gazing up at the vast expanse of sky, your eyes traced the diminishing form of Variel as she soared higher and higher, gradually fading into a mere speck before vanishing into the embrace of the encroaching darkness. A heavy sigh escaped your lips, an echo of sadness and defeat. Deep within, an ache persisted, a yearning to spend more time with her, to uncover the depths of her complex persona. It was the first glimpse you had caught of this side of Variel—a side that exuded warmth, friendliness, and a mischievous sense of fun. The memory of the exhilarating ride still reverberated within you, leaving you dizzy with its intensity. However, as your mind replayed the scenes of the evening, a flicker of determination ignited within your heart. This memory, this precious moment, would forever be etched into the depths of your mind. And perhaps, you thought, with a sly grin tugging at the corners of your lips, there would come a time to tease Variel about it. After all, what were connections if not a tapestry of shared jokes and playful banter? "I guess all good things must come to an end," you murmured, disappointment lacing your voice as you turned your back to the vanishing sky. Despite the twinge of sadness that lingered, you knew deep down that this encounter had left an indelible mark upon your soul. in every corner of its depths. As you walked through the enchanting gardens, adorned with vibrant blooms and bathed in the glow of twinkling lanterns, a vibrant symphony of laughter and mirth filled the air. Couples whirled gracefully across the dance floor, their attire shimmering like liquid moonlight. Yet, as you observed the revelry around you, an undeniable emptiness washed over your being. Variel's absence reverberated through your core, leaving a hollow space within you. The world seemed less vibrant, the music less melodic, as your mind yearned for her presence, for the electrifying connection that had ignited between you. The absence of her warmth and laughter left a void, reminding you of the fleeting nature of such enchanting encounters. Determined to distance yourself from the exuberant revelry that only emphasized your own feelings of longing and solitude, you shook your head, steeling your resolve. With each deliberate step, you chose to traverse the winding paths, purposefully avoiding any route that would lead you back to the ball. The sight of others reveling in happiness and togetherness, their laughter echoing through the air, was a painful reminder of what you lacked and needed. Continuing your solitary journey, you found yourself drawn towards an alternative entrance—an unassuming side door reserved for the bustling servants who tirelessly catered to the festivities. With a sense of clandestine purpose, you slipped through the door, leaving the merriment behind. The once-vibrant hallways now lay shrouded in a serene quietude, the distant strains of music from the grand ballroom barely audible, as if beckoning you to venture further into the realm of solitude. Despite the festivities in full swing, it appeared that the servants were fully engrossed in their duties, their absence palpable in the secluded corridors. However, diligent guards continued their watchful patrol, a testament to the potential dangers that could seep into even the most jubilant of gatherings. One of the sentries, recognizing you, offered a nod of reverence, their eyes shining with admiration and respect. "Dragon Tamer," they murmured in a hushed tone, their words tinged with reverence and awe. Your exploits had evidently spread through the castle, granting you a reputation that commanded admiration and esteem. "Evening," you replied, returning the nod with a small smile, acknowledging their presence with a sense of friendliness. As you wandered through the labyrinthine corridors, your mind became a whirlwind of frustration, struggling to recollect the path that would lead you back to your room. Every turn seemed to blur into another, a maze of identical passageways that taunted your sense of direction. Just when a sense of defeat began to settle upon your shoulders, a familiar figure emerged from the far end of the hallway like a guiding light in the darkness. Relief washed over you, visible in the way you instinctively swiped a hand across your forehead, as if wiping away the weight of your disorientation. "Hello, Sam," you called out, your voice filled with gratitude and a hint of embarrassment. "I apologize, but can you guide me back to my room? It seems I've managed to get lost again." Sam, ever the epitome of kindness and understanding, responded with a warm smile that eased your anxiety. "Of course," she replied, her tone devoid of judgment. "Follow me." With Sam at the helm, a beacon of familiarity amidst the maze-like corridors, you found solace in her presence. Left turns seamlessly merged with right turns, and twist after twist carried you further along the path towards your destination. The rhythmic sound of your footsteps intermingled with the soft echoes of conversation drifting from distant chambers. Time seemed to streched on as Sam deftly navigated the castle's intricate layout, her steps sure and purposeful. Silently, you appreciated Sam's unspoken support, her unwavering commitment to helping you find your way. Finally, as if guided by an invisible hand, Sam halted in front of a familiar door—the portal to your own sanctuary. A rush of relief and gratitude surged within you, filling every fiber of your being. With a heartfelt expression of gratitude, you turned to Sam. "Thank you so much," you whispered, your voice laced with genuine appreciation. Sam gracefully lowered her head in a respectful bow, her eyes glimmering with curiosity as they met yours. "Happy to serve," she replied, her voice carrying a gentle tone. "Forgive me for prying, but may I inquire as to why you're not at the ball, indulging in the festivities?" Your shoulders lifted in a casual shrug, masking the deeper emotions that lay beneath the surface. "The mood passed, and exhaustion has taken hold," you explained, your voice tinged with a hint of weariness. "Perhaps it's the toll of the long journey, the lack of rest weighing upon me." Sam's gaze softened, her understanding gaze unwavering. "I see," she murmured, her words carrying a comforting reassurance. "Well, in that case, I hope you find solace in a restful night's sleep. May it rejuvenate your spirit and restore your energy." With a final, respectful nod, Sam bid you farewell, gracefully stepping away from your presence and seamlessly merging back into her duties as a maiden of the castle. Meeting your door, you put your hand on the handle and pushed it open. As you stepped into your room, the heavy wooden door swung shut behind you, engulfing the space in a comforting stillness. The soft glow of moonlight seeped through the narrow crevices of the curtains, casting delicate beams of silver across the room. Drawn to the ethereal radiance, you found yourself drawn towards the window, compelled to reveal the nocturnal scene that awaited you. With a gentle pull, the curtains parted, unveiling a breathtaking sight. The balcony, bathed in moonlit brilliance, beckoned you forward. The celestial orb hung high in the obsidian sky, its radiant glow casting an enchanting glow over the landscape below. It felt as though the moon itself had assumed the role of a spotlight, illuminating the stage set for a pivotal moment. But it was not the celestial spectacle that held your gaze captive. No, it was the figure seated on the edge of the balcony, her form silhouetted against the luminescent backdrop. Variel, with her back turned to you, exuded an aura of mystery and intrigue. Her presence was both mesmerizing and daunting, like an christmas gift waiting to be unraveled. Summoning your roguish side, you seized the opportunity to surprise Variel. With a mischievous smirk curling your lips, you cautiously opened the balcony doors, their hinges betraying no sound. Like a shadow, you moved silently, your steps measured and deliberate, as if you were a master thief on a clandestine mission. One foot glided forward, then another, each movement calculated to bring you closer to your unsuspecting target. Your arms raised, fingers flexing in anticipation, as you prepared to execute the ultimate surprise. The thrill of the chase coursed through your veins, adding an extra skip to your heartbeat. But just as you were about to make your move, Variel's voice shattered the tranquil night air, slicing through your anticipation like a shard of glass. "I can hear you!" Her words reverberated, a jolt of electricity that disrupted your plans in an instant. A pout formed on your lips as the element of surprise slipped through your fingers like fine sand. "You just had to ruin the moment!" you playfully protested, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice. With a resigned shrug, you abandoned your stealthy approach and made your way towards her, abandoning the pretense of secrecy. Standing beside Variel, you cast a sideways glance at her. Her luminous white skin seemed to radiate with an otherworldly glow, surpassing even the brilliance of the moon's gentle light. Yet, her eyes remained averted, her gaze fixed on a distant point that only she could see. You could only catch a glimpse of the side of her face, the subtle contours that hinted at the emotions swirling within. Curiosity gnawed at your insides like a persistent itch as you couldn't help but inquire, "So, what brings you here?" Your voice held a note of genuine interest, a longing to understand the dragoness that is named Variel. "I don't know," in response, Variel remained nonchalant, her tone cool and detached. The fabric of her vibrant red dress billowed around her, caught in an invisible dance with the evening breeze. Her delicate feet swayed rhythmically, adding an air of mystique to her presence. As you observed her, a mixture of intrigue and anticipation fluttered within you. Shrugging your shoulders, you decided to join Variel on the perch, mimicking her posture. Your gaze shifted downward, instinctively avoiding the vertigo-inducing drop beneath your feet, the enormity of the drop served as a constant reminder of the consequences of missteps, both metaphorical and literal. Instead, you focused on the strange figure beside you, longing to decipher the complexities that hid behind her captivating facade. "That's the first time I've heard you say those words," you pointed out, hoping to draw her out of her usual reticence. Variel's laughter filled the night air, a melody that seemed to harmonize with the moonlit surroundings. Finally, she met your gaze, her eyes locking with yours in a moment that felt both significant and electric. A hint of a smile played upon her lips as she spoke, her words delivered with a casual air. "It seems so," she replied, her tone carrying a depth that spoke volumes. A mischievous glint danced in your eyes as you couldn't resist taunting Variel, reveling in the charged atmosphere between you. "What do you mean 'seems so'?" you goaded, a teasing lilt to your voice. The air crackled with tension, and you braced yourself for her response. In that instant, Variel's gaze transformed, darkening with a chilling intensity. The passive indifference that once lingered in her eyes gave way to a tempest of rage, sending a shiver down your spine. The sudden shift in her demeanor sent a clear message, and your confident facade wavered. The atmosphere grew heavy with an unspoken threat as her words cut through the silence like a razor. "You know, little mouse," Variel hissed, her voice dripping with menace, "I want nothing more than to push you off this ledge and watch you splatter into a gruesome mess of red paste." Her words were delivered with a dark, twisted satisfaction, her devilish smile stretching across her face. Frustration and exhaustion etched across your face as you finally spoke up, your voice laced with a mixture of annoyance and fear. "There you go again," you muttered, your breath catching slightly. "Always resorting to threats and dark fantasies." Your words held a tinge of weariness, a weariness born from the constant dance of hurt and sadistic tendencies that seemed to define your interaction with Variel. Her admission pierced the air like a sharpened blade. "Ha! Well, I'm not really a social person," Variel confessed, her voice carrying a hint of resignation. The unexpected revelation left you momentarily stunned, questioning the authenticity of this revelation. Could it be possible that Variel was peeling back the layers of her façade? Your curiosity burned within you, demanding answers. It was a dangerous path to tread, but you couldn't resist. Steeling yourself, you dared to ask the question that could unleash a torrent of unpredictable emotions. "Alright, what have you done with Variel?" you pressed, your voice tinged with skepticism. "This version of you... it's a poor imitation. The Variel I know is murderous, psychotic..." Each word rolled off your tongue, deliberately probing her reaction. As your gaze met Variel's eyes, you couldn't help but notice a wicked gleam lighting up her features. Her smile grew wider, fueled by your description of her darkest self. Exasperation colored your voice as you voiced your observation. "You're liking this, aren't you?" you said, your tone tinged with exhaustion. Variel, arms crossed defiantly, reveled in the moment. Pride danced in her eyes as she responded, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "How could I not, <<print $player_name>>?" she responded, her voice tinged with a mix of arrogance and amusement. "You're praising and describing every part of my soul." But it wasn't just her acknowledgment that caught your attention—it was the fact that she had called you by your name. It was a subtle gesture, a small glimmer of something more meaningful. Your heart skipped a beat as you dared to voice your observation, your voice quivering with hope. "Did you call me by my name?" you asked, your eyes shimmering with anticipation. It was a pivotal moment, a glimpse into the possibility of a deeper connection, a glimmer of hope that Variel was slowly opening herself up to you. Variel's laughter filled the air, a melodious sound that held a hint of mischief. Her amusement was palpable, weaving an invisible thread that connected the two of you. "I don't know," she replied, her voice dripping with playful ambiguity. "Did I?" A groan escaped your lips as frustration coursed through your veins. Why did Variel always have to make things so challenging? "Can you please give me a proper answer?" you asked, your voice laced with both irritation and a hint of longing. Your gaze bore into Variel's, a silent plea for her to reveal her true intentions. Variel, still wearing a mischievous smile, laughed at your exasperation. "Why should I?" she retorted, her words wrapped in a question that hung in the air, teasing and elusive. Frustration welled up within you, threatening to overflow. "Ahhh! Fine!" you exclaimed, a mix of exasperation and exhaustion coloring your voice. "If you're going to be like that, then be alone here for all I care." Determination fueled your movements as you began to shift from your perch, ready to leave Variel behind in her enigmatic solitude. But just as you took that first step away, a voice, soft and barely audible, reached your ears. Variel's low tone, like a whisper in the wind, halted your movement, freezing you in place. "Alright, I apologize," Variel admitted, her words carrying a sincerity that caught you off guard. In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in the moonlit balcony. A mischievous grin tugged at your lips as you decided to seize the opportunity. Your voice took on a smooth, suave tone as you playfully responded, "What was that?" Your hand instinctively moved to cup your ear, emphasizing your eagerness to hear her words once again. As Variel's teeth ground together, a faint grinding sound reached your ears, a testament to the simmering frustration that threatened to consume her. Her nostrils flared and smoke seemed to curl around her, adding an ethereal touch to the intensity of the moment. Then, as if in a deliberate act of control, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as though seeking solace within herself. When her eyes fluttered open, a newfound calmness washed over her features. Her voice, though gruff, held a touch of unexpected serenity as she spoke. "I said I'm sorry," she uttered, her words resonating with a mix of genuine remorse and an uncharacteristic sense of surrender. Defying all logic and shattering preconceived impressions you had of her. Confusion creased your brow as you scratched your head, trying to make sense of the sudden shift in Variel's demeanor. "What happened?" you prodded, genuinely perplexed by this unforeseen turn of events. Variel's annoyance flickered across her face, but it was quickly replaced by calmness. "Happened what?" she retorted, her tone hinting at a desire to evade the question. Locking eyes with her, you couldn't help but press further. "This isn't like you," you began, your voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "You're admitting defeat, and throughout our conversation, there's been no trace of the usual threats or attempts to hurt me. Something seems off. Is something going on?" Your words carried a genuine concern, as if reaching out to unravel the mysteries that lay beneath Variel's seemingly impenetrable facade. "I...I...I-" ''//(End Flashback)//'' As the knock resounded through the door, your thoughts were abruptly interrupted, pulling you away from your reverie of the balcony. With a sigh, you rose from your bed and made your way to the door, a sense of anticipation lingering in the air. Opening it, you were greeted by the sight of Sam, her face adorned with a radiant smile, accompanied by a group of servants bearing a wooden tub filled with water. "Good morning, <<print $player_name>>!" Sam's voice bubbled with uncontainable enthusiasm, causing a chuckle to escape your lips. "And a good morning to you too, Sam!" you responded, reciprocating her infectious energy. Apologizing for the interruption, Sam explained that the King wished to meet with you to discuss important matters. Gesturing for the servants to enter with the tub of water, she guided them past you into your room. Stepping aside, you allowed them passage, noting their efficiency as they maneuvered the cumbersome container. Curiosity tinged your voice as you asked, "Only me?" Sam couldn't help but cover her mouth and giggle at your nervous inquiry. "You and the team, silly," she replied in a lighthearted, almost childish tone, dispelling your worries with her reassuring words. Relief flooded over you as you let out a relieved sigh. "Oh, thank goodness," you uttered, the weight on your shoulders lifting. "I'll be there momentarily," you added, acknowledging the impending meeting. Sam gracefully bowed her head in acknowledgment. "Very well. Just call upon us if you need anything," she offered, her voice filled with a genuine concern for your well-being. With a final bow from the servants, they followed Sam's lead, retreating down the hallway and leaving you to the solitude of your room. As you stepped into the inviting warmth of the water, a gentle sigh escaped your lips, carried away by the steam rising around you. The tension in your muscles began to melt away, replaced by a profound sense of relaxation and rejuvenation. The ripples formed by your feet cascaded gently, creating a soothing rhythm that echoed through the room. Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to be enveloped by the tranquility of the moment. The soft caress of the water against your skin sent shivers of delight coursing through your body. Each droplet seemed to wash away the weariness that had accumulated within you, revitalizing your spirit with its gentle touch. It was a sanctuary of calmness, a sanctuary you desperately needed. But amidst the serenity, Variel's words lingered in your mind like an unwelcome guest. Her words, spoken with such dark foreboding, reverberated through your thoughts, injecting a chilling undercurrent into the otherwise peaceful atmosphere. The memory of her concerned features seemed to taint the purity of the water, casting shadows over the sanctuary you had sought within its depths. You couldn't shake off the unease that settled upon you, even in the midst of this blissful interlude. The conflicting emotions churned within you, the juxtaposition of relaxation and turmoil intertwining like a dance of light and darkness. It was as if Variel's presence loomed over your every thought, a constant reminder of the danger that lurked in the shadows. And for the very first time you see Variel afraid, a sight you thought you will never experienced in your life You took a deep breath, determined to regain control over your own mind. With each exhale, you visualized expelling Variel's words, banishing them from your consciousness. Yet, try as you might, their echo persisted, an unwelcome refrain that refused to fade away. ''//(Note: Sorry Reader I don't want to tell you those words so it will not be spoiled ;)//'' [[Next|Pick Attire For The Court]]

As the rooster's melodious call echoed through the air once again, a soft light filtered through the parted curtains, casting a golden hue across the room. You gradually emerged from the depths of slumber, your body cocooned within the warm embrace of the blankets. With a languid stretch, you savored the lingering sensation of dreams that danced on the edge of your consciousness. Raising a hand to your mouth, you delicately wiped away any remnants of drool that had escaped during the night. A small, self-conscious smile tugged at the corners of your lips, a testament to the sheer exhaustion and exhilaration that had consumed you during your escapades with Clara. The memories of her name, spoken with a delicate yet resonant timbre, seemed to course through your veins, electrifying your very being. The recollection of your time with Clara stirred a surge of emotions within you, like a tempest swirling deep within your core. Each moment spent in her company felt like a whirlwind of enchantment, a liberation of spirit that set your heart ablaze. You had embraced the night with an unbridled fervor, venturing into realms unknown, where inhibitions were shed and inhibitions were left behind. The mere thought of Clara's name sent a rush of exhilaration cascading through your veins, igniting your senses and awakening a vibrant hunger for life's infinite possibilities. The wild and untamed spirit that coursed through your veins in her presence had left an indelible mark upon your soul. Yet, despite the gentle pull of the morning light, you remained nestled in the sanctuary of your bed, savoring the comfort it provided. With a contented sigh, you allowed your body to sink deeper into the softness of the pillows, reveling in the pure bliss of a peaceful moment. A joyous laughter escaped your lips as you recalled the events of the previous night, the memory of Clara surpassing all your expectations. In the depths of your mind, you had anticipated a timid and introverted encounter, but the universe had conspired to deliver something far beyond your wildest imaginings. Clara, like a shooting star streaking across the sky, had dazzled you with her uninhibited spirit and unapologetic vivacity. Her actions, like fragments of a mesmerizing dream, danced through your thoughts, painting vibrant strokes of color upon the canvas of your mind. Each moment spent in her presence had been a revelation, a symphony of laughter and adventure that reverberated in your soul. And as you traced the fading bruise upon your cheek, a testament to the intensity of the night's escapades, a surge of exhilaration coursed through your veins. "Clara...Clara...Clara!" The repetition of her name upon your lips was both a celebration and a whispered prayer. There was an inexplicable power in the way her name tumbled from your tongue, carrying with it the echoes of the enchantment you had shared. It was a name that held within it a world of possibilities. ''//(Flashback Of Last Night)//'' The city streets stretched out before you and Clara, their cold and chilly embrace contrasting with the warmth that emanated from your intertwined hands. With each resolute step, the sound of your boots tapping against the worn cobblestone created a rhythm that echoed through the night. Breathless and exhilarated, the pursuit had not dampened your spirits. Onward you raced, your heartbeats synchronizing in a symphony of adrenaline-fueled determination. The chill air filled your lungs, invigorating you like a gust of wind breathing life into a smoldering ember. But in the distance, a commanding voice pierced through the night. It was Lucas, his tone cutting through the air with both urgency and authority. "Spread out!" the words rang out, commanding the guards to fan out in their search for you and Clara. Realizing the imminent danger, you and Clara made a swift decision. Seeking refuge, you darted towards the nearest building, seeking solace in the shadows that clung to its corners. As you huddled together, Clara peered out cautiously, her eyes sparkling with mischief and a mischievous grin playing upon her lips. "Looks like Lucas isn't as worried as he should be," Clara chuckled softly, her voice laced with a hint of playful defiance. "Only two guards? Well, that's hardly a challenge for us." As Clara snapped her head towards you, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that could ignite a fire. Her smile, a captivating blend of devilry and determination, threatened to break into two from her face, revealing the exhilarating secrets that lay within. You couldn't help but feel a mix of nervousness and excitement coursing through your veins. "You have a plan, don't you?" you asked, your voice tinged with both anticipation and a hint of trepidation. In the short time you had known Clara, she had proven herself to be a mastermind, concocting the most devious and unconventional plans with a fearless abandon. Her grin widened, the glimmer in her eyes reflecting the sparks of a thousand possibilities. "Oh, yes!" she replied, her words laced with a sense of anticipation and mystery. The air crackled with electricity as her voice floated through the space between you, leaving no room for argument or hesitation. "And you're going to help me perform it!" she declared with unwavering conviction, her tone commanding both your attention and your loyalty. Clara leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper as she unveiled her insane plan. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their audacity. You listened, a mixture of fascination and concern swirling within you. Playing the role of a kidnapper and holding Clara hostage? It was a scheme that bordered on madness, and yet, there was an undeniable spark of excitement coursing through your veins. As Clara outlined the intricate details of the plan, your mind spun with a whirlwind of thoughts. Doubt crept in, and you found yourself questioning the safety of being in Clara's presence. What kind of prank was this, and what risks were you about to embark upon? "Oh well!" you mused inwardly, surrendering to the wild ride that awaited. The knot of anticipation tightened in your stomach, intermingled with a nagging sense of doubt. Would Lucas understand the nature of the plan? Would he harbor resentment or anger towards you? These questions flickered in your mind, like fleeting shadows dancing upon the walls of uncertainty. Looks like you will find out after this! Clara meticulously tousled her hair, intentionally creating a disheveled appearance as if you were forcefully gripping it. As she did so, tears welled up in her eyes, cascading down her cheeks with practiced precision. The sight amazed you, for Clara's ability to embody the role of a damsel in distress was nothing short of remarkable. Rummaging through the depths of her pockets, Clara retrieved a small vial containing a vivid red liquid. With deliberate movements, she applied the substance to her cheek, smearing it in a way that mimicked the appearance of a fresh injury. Your heart skipped a beat as you surveyed the transformation taking place before your eyes. The gravity of the situation sank in, and you silently prayed to any divine entity that Lucas would not mistake this carefully crafted cosplay for reality. "Now I'm ready!" Clara declared triumphantly, her eyes shimmering with determination and mischief. A mixture of relief and exasperation surged within you, intertwining like two opposing currents. "If Lucas were to stab me to death, I swear I'll haunt you for eternity!" you exclaimed, your words laced with a hint of annoyance and a flicker of amusement. Clara's grin widened, her face radiant under the flickering glow of the fire lantern. "Oh, how delightful it would be to have your ghostly company for the rest of my life," she teased, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes. Clara clapped her hands, her expression transitioning to a more serious demeanor. "Stand behind me and place your hand on my neck," she instructed, positioning herself in front of you with her back turned. You complied, moving closer to her until you could feel the warmth of her body. The scent of jasmine perfume and fragrant shampoo enveloped you, tantalizing your senses. Playfully, you couldn't resist making a provocative remark. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you have a fetish for being strangled," you whispered in your most suave voice, a hint of amusement lacing your words. Clara chuckled, her throat vibrating gently beneath your touch. "Among other things," she replied nonchalantly, the strange nature of her words piquing your curiosity. "Wait Wh-" before you could press for an explanation, Clara abruptly raised her voice, signaling the commencement of your carefully orchestrated performance. "Help! Somebody help!" she cried out, her voice laced with urgency and desperation. The echoes of Clara's plea reverberated through the surrounding streets, slicing through the stillness of the night. The sound reached Lucas's ears like a clarion call, and with unwavering determination, he charged towards the scene, accompanied by his two loyal guards. "Clara...Clara!" Lucas called out, his voice tinged with both concern and fervor. His eyes darted from Clara to you, assessing the situation with lightning speed. Clara, her face streaked with tears, cast a pleading gaze toward Lucas. "He's taken me hostage, Lucas! Save me from this vile creature!" she implored, her voice quivering with genuine fear and desperation. "Make it real, <<print $player_name>>," she murmured softly, her words hidden amidst her sobs. You, playing the role of the malevolent captor, tightened your grip on Clara's neck, a cruel semblance of danger playing out before their eyes. A sinister smile crept across your face as you reveled in the thrill of the charade. "Stand back, Protector, or she won't make it out alive!" you snarled, your voice resonating with a deep, menacing tone. Lucas's eyes narrowed, a flicker of concern masked by his composed demeanor. "What are your demands?" he asked, his voice laced with a steely resolve. A cocky smirk danced upon your lips as you relished in the power of the moment. "Nothing much, Protector," you sneered, savoring the opportunity to taunt your adversary. "I simply want you to obey my every command," you declared, your voice dripping with wicked satisfaction. The guards, growing increasingly restless, inched closer, their hands hovering near their weapons. But a single raised hand from Lucas halted their advance. "Halt!" he commanded with authority, his unwavering gaze fixed upon you. The guards exchanged wary glances, their obedience a testament to their trust in their leader. Lucas met your gaze, a mix of disdain and determination flickering in his eyes. "Speak, fiend," he demanded, his voice laced with disdain. "Tell me your orders." A wicked gleam flashed in your eyes as you leaned closer to Clara's trembling form, your lips brushing against her ear. "Scream," you whispered with malicious delight, fully immersed in the theatrics of the moment. Clara, an adept performer, released a blood-curdling scream, her pitiful whimpering underscoring the intensity of the act. Lucas, his face a mask of resignation, finally spoke up, his voice filled with a mix of weariness and pleading. "Enough," he commanded, his words cutting through the tense air like a blade. "You've made your point." Turning to face Lucas, you took a step closer, ensuring that your features remained shrouded, preventing any recognition. With a mix of satisfaction and mischief dancing in your eyes, you began to relay the orders bestowed upon you by Clara, the mastermind behind this elaborate scheme. "Get down on your knees," you commanded, a cruel delight lacing your voice. To your surprise, Lucas complied without hesitation, sinking to the cold ground before you. "Place your hand over your chest," you continued, savoring each moment as Lucas followed your instructions with unwavering obedience. "I, Lucas Pierce," you began, your voice dripping with mischief. Lucas repeated the words dutifully, his voice carrying a hint of disbelief. And then came the unexpected twist that sent shockwaves reverberating through the air. "Am a grumpy troll," you announced with a malicious grin, reveling in the audacity of Clara's plan. The words hung in the air, lingering for a moment as Lucas's head snapped in your direction, his eyes widening with realization. A moment of silence passed, pregnant with tension, before Clara's laughter echoed through the night. The act was up, the grand charade reaching its climax. With a flick of your hand, you released Clara from your grasp, allowing her to step forward and reveal herself. As Lucas's fury reached its peak, he bolted upright, towering over the two of you with an imposing presence. His voice reverberated through the air, filled with a potent mixture of anger and frustration. "Damn you!" he bellowed, his words laced with venomous intensity. He commanded the guards to leave, their presence no longer required. With each step he took towards you, his strides were laden with animosity and contempt. The palpable tension hung heavy in the air, and Lucas's gaze bore into both of you with fiery rage. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?" he seethed, his voice tinged with exasperation. "All of this was just a prank?" His words spilled forth in a torrent of emotion, echoing with a sense of betrayal and hurt. Clara, unyielding and undeterred, crossed her arms defiantly. "Sheesh! Aren't you a prickly son of a bitch?" she retorted, her words sharp and blunt. Lucas, frozen in his tracks, seemed to absorb her words, his head cast down as if in defeat. The silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the sound of Lucas's body vibrating with suppressed emotions. Tension radiated from him, his clenched fists expressing a profound inner struggle. Concern etched across your face, you cautiously approached Lucas. "Umm, Lucas?" you called out, your voice tinged with genuine worry. But as you neared him, you witnessed a transformation, a surge of pent-up emotions threatening to engulf him. His hands, gripping so tightly that the fabric protested against his strength, trembled with an intensity that spoke volumes. Lucas's eyes, filled with a seething anger, slowly lifted to meet your gaze and Clara's. The intensity of his glare pierced your very soul, sending a shiver down your spine. "All of my life, I have endured your pranks, ever since we were children," he began, his voice quivering with a mixture of resentment and frustration. As Lucas started moving again, driven by an unyielding determination, you hurriedly approached him, your hand raised in a gesture of placation. It was clear that emotions and fury were a dangerous combination, and you needed to calm him down. "Luc—" Before you could finish your plea, Lucas unleashed a sucker punch to your gut, the impact knocking you to your knees and leaving you gasping for air. Yet, he continued on his path, undeterred by your presence. The pain radiating through your body, you mustered all your strength to speak. "Lucas, this is not funny!" you managed to choke out, clutching your aching stomach. Your gaze shifted to Clara, who had retreated, her arms raised in surrender, fear etched across her face. But Lucas's fury raged on, his voice escalating with each word. "All of my life, you have made my job difficult, testing my patience and challenging my authority," he shouted, his tone carrying the weight of years of resentment. "And how did you repay me?" he bellowed, closing the distance between himself and Clara. She found herself cornered, her back against the wall, with nowhere to escape. By calling my dead mother a bitch!" His words echoed through the night, each syllable charged with a deeply personal hurt. With a menacing presence, Lucas loomed over Clara's trembling form, his anger threatening to explode. "Not only did you have the nerve to disrespect my dead mother," he seethed, his grip tightening on Clara's clothes, "But you also had the audacity to play this prank on me and insult me?" he spat out with loathing. Lucas loomed over Clara, his anger manifesting in his tightened grip on her clothes, his hand raised, poised to deliver a punishing blow. The tension reached its zenith. Summoning every ounce of courage, you gathered the remaining air in your lungs, your voice echoing with a resounding cry. "LUCAS!" The sound reverberated through the night, cutting through the rage and piercing Lucas's consciousness. The sheer force behind your plea seemed to momentarily snap him out of his anger-induced trance. You gasped, the pain in your stomach intensifying as you strained to catch your breath. The effect of your cry had worked, as Lucas's gaze shifted from Clara to you. His steps, once filled with anger and determination, now slowed and softened as he neared you. Surrendering to the inevitable, you braced yourself for what was to come. To your surprise, instead of lashing out, Lucas knelt down in front of you, his expression etched with concern and genuine apology. The unexpected turn of events caught you off guard, momentarily leaving you at a loss for words. You studied his face, searching for any signs of deception, but found none. "Are you alright?" Lucas's voice carried a genuine worry, his tone laced with remorse. It was as if the weight of his actions had finally settled upon him, and he couldn't bear to see you in pain. "Not really," you managed to respond, attempting a weak snicker that was quickly replaced by a wince of pain. Regret washed over you, mingling with the lingering ache in your gut. "I apologize for my behavior," Lucas spoke deeply, his voice resonating with sincerity and remorse. "Nah, I deserved this," you murmured, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. The realization of the consequences of your prank sank in, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Lucas leaned in close, his hand finding its place on your shoulder. His touch was a gentle reassurance, a lifeline in the midst of your pain. "Here, let me help you stand," he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of concern and determination. With a slow and deliberate motion, he lifted you up, mindful of the discomfort etched across your face. As you regained your balance, the sound of approaching footsteps caught your attention. Clara emerged, her voice calling out to Lucas with a mixture of relief and worry. Lucas I'm so-" however, Lucas swiftly raised a hand, a gesture commanding her silence. "I accept your apology, Clara," he declared, his tone firm yet laced with a touch of sadness. The weight of his forgiveness hung in the air, carrying with it the understanding that wounds could heal but scars would remain. "However, I will never ever forget this incident!" Clara's gaze dropped, unable to meet Lucas' eyes, her regret palpable in the silence that surrounded her. "You have betrayed my trust and played with my emotions," Lucas continued, his voice trembling with a blend of anger, hurt, and vulnerability. The depth of Clara's actions had cut through his defenses, leaving him grappling with a whirlwind of emotions. His voice wavered, on the precipice of breaking down, as he posed the poignant question that reverberated through the tense atmosphere. "How could you?" he asked, his words weighted with a longing for an explanation that could soothe his wounded heart. "Its only a prank Lucas I swear!" Clara's feeble attempt to reason fell upon deaf ears as Lucas's body trembled with uncontrollable sobs. The weight of his emotions became too much to bear, and tears streamed down his face, an outpouring of pain and betrayal. It was a sight that struck you to the core, witnessing this raw display of vulnerability from a person you had always known as strong and composed. "A prank... all of this a prank to you!" Lucas choked out between sobs, his voice quivering with a mixture of disbelief and anguish. The impact of Clara's actions had shattered the trust he had placed in her, leaving him shattered and unable to contain the floodgate of emotions that surged within him. The tears flowed freely, a testament to the depth of his hurt.. "You... you... you!" Lucas stammered, his words fragmented by his uncontrollable sobs. The pain he felt was too great to articulate, but his tears spoke volumes. "My mother Clara, she is the person who always reminds me to keep my cool and anger in check and you dare disrespect the name of the woman who had just save your life." In this moment, he felt the loss of his mother, the guiding force who had always reminded him to maintain his composure and emotions. Clara's disrespect toward her name struck a chord deep within him, intensifying his grief. "I'm sorry if I kn-" Clara attempted to interject, but Lucas swiftly silenced her, his voice resolute and commanding. "Silence!" he commanded, the weight of his words echoing through the air. "When will you grow up?" he questioned, his voice laden with disappointment. He released his grip on you, recognizing that you could stand on your own, his attention now solely focused on Clara. "Soon enough, you will rule the whole Kingdom of Tiara, and this is how you prepare for your ascension?" Lucas continued, his tone cutting and filled with righteous indignation. "Your parents will be heartbroken and disappointed," he uttered with a hint of sorrow. The gravity of Clara's actions weighed heavily on him, knowing the impact it would have on her family and the legacy they had built. Clara's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she sank to her knees, overwhelmed by the weight of her remorse. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry!" she repeated the words, her hands shielding her face as she shook her head in disbelief. But Lucas remained steadfast, turning his back on both of you, his resolve unwavering. "Return to the Kingdom, both of you. Your father is worried sick," Lucas commanded, his voice resolute and firm. "Be grateful that I will not tell your father about this incident, for his sake and for the sake of our friendship." With those final words, Lucas departed, leaving behind a shattered bond and two individuals burdened with the weight of their actions. You released your grip on your stomach, the physical pain gradually subsiding. But the emotional pain, the wreckage deep within your heart, remained a formidable challenge to confront. Clara's tear-stained face, her body trembling with the weight of her regret, tugged at your own heartstrings. Without hesitation, you crouched down to her level, offering a comforting presence in her moment of despair. "Let it out, Clara. I'm right here for you," you whispered, your voice filled with compassion and understanding. You gently reached out, your hand finding its place on her trembling shoulder, providing a sense of solace amidst the storm of emotions that engulfed her. Clara struggled to form coherent sentences amid her sobs, her words fragmented by her overwhelming anguish. "It's... just... just..." she managed to utter between gasps for breath, her voice quivering with the weight of unspeakable burdens. "There's so-" ''//(End Of Flashback)//'' As the knock resounded through the door, your thoughts were abruptly interrupted, pulling you away from your reverie of the cobblestone streets. With a sigh, you rose from your bed and made your way to the door, a sense of anticipation lingering in the air. Opening it, you were greeted by the sight of Sam, her face adorned with a radiant smile, accompanied by a group of servants bearing a wooden tub filled with water. "Good morning, <<print $player_name>>!" Sam's voice bubbled with uncontainable enthusiasm, causing a chuckle to escape your lips. "And a good morning to you too, Sam!" you responded, reciprocating her infectious energy. Apologizing for the interruption, Sam explained that the King wished to meet with you to discuss important matters. Gesturing for the servants to enter with the tub of water, she guided them past you into your room. Stepping aside, you allowed them passage, noting their efficiency as they maneuvered the cumbersome container. Curiosity tinged your voice as you asked, "Only me?" Sam couldn't help but cover her mouth and giggle at your nervous inquiry. "You and the team, silly," she replied in a lighthearted, almost childish tone, dispelling your worries with her reassuring words. Relief flooded over you as you let out a relieved sigh. "Oh, thank goodness," you uttered, the weight on your shoulders lifting. "I'll be there momentarily," you added, acknowledging the impending meeting. Sam gracefully bowed her head in acknowledgment. "Very well. Just call upon us if you need anything," she offered, her voice filled with a genuine concern for your well-being. With a final bow from the servants, they followed Sam's lead, retreating down the hallway and leaving you to the solitude of your room. As you stepped into the inviting warmth of the water, a gentle sigh escaped your lips, carried away by the steam rising around you. The tension in your muscles began to melt away, replaced by a profound sense of relaxation and rejuvenation. The ripples formed by your feet cascaded gently, creating a soothing rhythm that echoed through the room. Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to be enveloped by the tranquility of the moment. The soft caress of the water against your skin sent shivers of delight coursing through your body. Each droplet seemed to wash away the weariness that had accumulated within you, revitalizing your spirit with its gentle touch. It was a sanctuary of calmness, a sanctuary you desperately needed. But amidst the serenity, Clara's words lingered in your mind like an unwelcome guest. Her words, spoken with such pain in her voice, reverberated through your thoughts, injecting a chilling undercurrent into the otherwise peaceful atmosphere. The memory of his petrified features seemed to taint the purity of the water, casting shadows over the sanctuary you had sought within its depths. You couldn't shake off the unease that settled upon you, even in the midst of this blissful interlude. The conflicting emotions churned within you, the juxtaposition of relaxation and turmoil intertwining like a dance of light and darkness. It was as if Clara's presence loomed over your every thought, a constant reminder of the weight and burdens of the world, And for the very first time you see Clara shaken and broken, a sight you thought you will never experienced in your life You took a deep breath, determined to regain control over your own mind. With each exhale, you visualized expelling Clara's words, banishing them from your consciousness. Yet, try as you might, their echo persisted, an unwelcome refrain that refused to fade away. ''//(Note: Sorry Reader, I don't want to tell you those words so it will not be spoiled ;)//'' [[Next|Pick Attire For The Court]]

The steam from the hot water enveloped the bathroom, creating a comforting and soothing atmosphere. Droplets cascaded down the tiled walls, leaving a glistening trail in their wake. You reached for the bar of soap, its smooth surface gliding against your fingertips, and began to lather it onto the surface of the bathtub. As you worked the soap into a frothy lather, tiny bubbles began to form, dancing and twirling in the water like miniature ethereal beings. With a playful glint in your eyes, you cupped your hands together, forming a perfect ring with your fingers. Taking a deep breath, you pursed your lips and blew gently, releasing a stream of air that transformed into a multitude of bubbles. They grew larger and larger, shimmering in the dim light of the bathroom, their iridescent surfaces reflecting a kaleidoscope of colors. Delighted laughter escaped your lips as you watched the bubbles float and bob in the air, their fragile existence hanging on a delicate balance. Some bubbles burst upon contact with the cool air, their ephemeral existence coming to an end in a soft pop. Others, however, managed to defy gravity, gracefully ascending higher and higher, as if chasing the very heavens themselves. With a mischievous glimmer in your eyes, you reached out with soapy fingers, gently poking the floating spheres, causing them to burst into a spray of shimmering droplets. As the warm water began to lose its comforting embrace, a chill traveled up your spine, causing you to shiver involuntarily. Realizing it was time to conclude your bath, you reluctantly turned off the faucet and rose from the tub, rivulets of water streaming down your body. Grasping a plush towel nearby, you tenderly patted yourself dry, the soft fabric caressing your skin as you absorbed the warmth within its fibers. The bathroom remained hushed, a gentle tranquility settling over the space as you prepared to leave, a lingering sense of relaxation and contentment following in your wake. The bathrobe enveloped you in its plush embrace, providing a comforting shield for your naked body. With a grateful sigh, you cinched the tie around your waist, securing the robe in place, and turned your attention to the pressing matter at hand — the absence of clothes to wear. Just as worry began to creep into your mind, a knock echoed through the room, breaking the silence. Hastily, you made your way to the door, your steps quickening with each heartbeat. With a gentle twist of the doorknob, the wooden barrier swung open, revealing Sam standing on the other side, a sheepish smile adorning her face. "I apologize," she spoke, her voice tinged with sincerity. "I forgot to provide you with your attire for the day." Her eyes briefly glanced down at the bundle of clothes she held in her arms, a mix of fabrics and colors intermingling in her grasp. Relief washed over you like a gentle wave as you extended your hand, accepting the garments with gratitude. "Thank you," you expressed, your voice laced with genuine appreciation. The weight of the clothes settled into your palm, a tangible reassurance that your predicament had been resolved. Sam bowed her head respectfully, her demeanor exuding a sense of duty and servitude. "It is my privilege to serve and please," she humbly stated before retreating from your presence, leaving you alone with your newfound attire. Closing the door behind you, you carefully laid out the assortment of clothes atop your bed. Each garment whispered a tale of style and fashion, enticing you to explore the possibilities they held. With a sense of anticipation, you allowed your fingers to caress the fabrics, feeling their textures and imagining how they would drape upon your body. A momentary pause hung in the air, a tranquil interlude as you contemplated the choices before you. The clothes seemed to whisper their suggestions, as if beckoning you towards a certain combination or ensemble. With a confident smile, you made your decision, selecting the pieces that resonated most strongly with your sense of style and mood for the day. As you prepared to don the chosen attire, a surge of excitement coursed through your veins. The mere act of selecting clothes had transformed into an act of self-expression, an opportunity to present yourself to the world in a way that felt authentic and true. As your eyes grazed over the assortment of clothes laid before you, the first to catch your attention was the sleek and commanding suit. Its midnight black fabric exuded an air of authority, perfectly tailored to hug your figure in all the right places. Gold cufflinks adorned the end of each sleeve, glimmering like tiny treasures in the morning light. The contrasting colors of black and pure white created a striking visual contradiction, a testament to the dichotomy within you. The collar at the neck and the row of buttons near the chest only added to the air of military precision. Donning this suit would transform you into a formidable presence, a vision of strength and leadership. With each garment, you felt a subtle shift in your identity, as if stepping into a role that was waiting for you to embrace it. Your gaze then drifted towards the exquisite emerald gown, a garment fit for royalty and adorned with intricate designs that seemed to come alive under your scrutiny. The lower part of the gown showcased masterfully woven patterns, with delicate vines climbing up and down, intertwining like a dance of nature's creation. But it was the breast part that truly captivated you, where a majestic tree bloomed in all its glory, its branches reaching out as if to touch the sky. The emerald hue of the fabric reflected the depths of lush forests, evoking a sense of natural beauty and grace. To wear this gown would be to embody the essence of Mother Nature herself, a regal figure wrapped in the embrace of earth's wonders. Lastly, your attention was drawn to the mantle and shroud, crafted from the luxurious fabric of velvet purple. Its regal hue spoke of nobility and mystique, captivating your imagination with its rich depths. The length of the garment flowed gracefully, cascading down like a river of fabric, enveloping you in its voluminous embrace. Donning this mantle would transport you to a world of serenity and introspection, evoking the aura of a wise monk or a revered priest. Its presence would cloak you in an aura of spiritual significance, bestowing upon you a sense of reverence and tranquility. With each choice laid before you, you felt a stirring in your soul, a glimpse of the possibilities that awaited. These clothes were not mere fabric and threads; they held the power to transform you into someone extraordinary, someone who could command attention, embody nature's beauty, or radiate an air of mysticism. It was as if the clothes themselves whispered their stories, enticing you to step into their realm and embrace the role they offered. In this moment of decision, you were not simply choosing an outfit, but rather embracing an opportunity to become someone entirely new, to embody a character that resonated with the depths of your being. <<cycle "$attire" autoselect>> <<option "suit">> <<option "gown">> <<option "shroud">> <</cycle>> [[Continue|King Meeting]]

With a gentle touch, you carefully selected your desired attire and began the process of adorning yourself in its beauty. Fingers delicately ran across the fabric, brushing away any lingering dust particles and ensuring that every edge and seam was flawlessly aligned. As you stood before the mirror, a gasp escaped your lips, for the reflection staring back at you was nothing short of breathtaking. In the luminous glow of the morning sun, the chosen ensemble transformed you into an ethereal vision, surpassing even the memories of your resplendent appearance at the grand ball. It was as if a divine radiance enveloped your entire being, accentuating every captivating feature. The $attire acted as a mesmerizing frame, enhancing the elegance of your form and amplifying your natural allure. Your $eye eyes, oh, those enchanting windows to your soul, seemed to sparkle with an intensified brilliance. The hues of your gaze shone with an otherworldly luminescence. The clothing seemed to have the power to unlock a hidden depth within you, unveiling an even more captivating version of yourself. As you admired your reflection, a sense of awe washed over you. The garments had become an extension of your essence, gracefully accentuating your curves, enhancing your poise, and elevating your presence to that of a celestial being. In this moment, you embodied a rare combination of grace, confidence, and inner beauty that left you breathless. No longer confined by the limitations of the ordinary, you stepped into the world as a living masterpiece, a living embodiment of artistry and enchantment. The very air seemed to respond to your ethereal presence, caressing your skin with a gentle reverence. Each movement you made exuded an aura of regality, as if you were a deity gracefully gliding through the mortal realm. As you gracefully traversed the ornate hallways, each step echoing with a sense of anticipation, the world around you transformed into a vibrant tapestry of colors, sounds, and emotions. The corridor, adorned with intricate tapestries depicting lush jungles, seemed to come alive, enveloping you in a symphony of sights and sensations. Whispers of conversations danced on the air, their ethereal melodies reaching your ears like distant echoes. The voices grew louder, beckoning you further, as if they were the sirens of a hidden paradise waiting to be discovered. Your curiosity was ignited, a flame that burned brighter with every passing moment, propelling you forward with brimming curiousity. As you ventured further, the distant sound of animated voices grew louder, drawing you deeper into the heart of the celebration. The acause of the gathering, even at this early hour, was evident in the vibrant energy that permeated the air. The melodies of lively music floated on the breeze, intertwining with the laughter and animated discussions, creating a symphony of joy and excitement that set your heart alight. With each step you took, the anticipation within you heightened. The grandeur of the occasion was palpable, manifesting in the opulent decorations that adorned the halls. Gilded frames showcased masterful paintings, capturing the essence of a bygone era. Intricate floral arrangements adorned every corner, their fragrant blooms releasing a sweet perfume that mingled with the whispers of anticipation. As you glided closer to Clara, her conversation with the gentleman came to an end, and her eyes, like twin orbs of sparkling emerald, locked onto yours. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in an ethereal bubble, suspended in time. Her graceful demeanor and poised presence emanated an air of regality that was simply captivating. With a polite nod and a slight bow, Clara bid farewell to her interlocutor, a display of respect and courtesy that spoke volumes of her upbringing and refined character. The man, clearly entranced by Clara's charm, departed with a respectful smile, leaving you alone with her, a tantalizing prospect that quickened your heartbeat. Her attention now solely focused on you, Clara's lips curled into a genuine, yet subtle, smile—a Mona Lisa smile that held an enigmatic allure. In that moment, it was as if a gentle breeze whispered through the room, carrying her words to your eager ears. "I can say that your appearance is stunning," she uttered, her voice a velvety caress that stirred the depths of your soul. The simplicity of her compliment was a symphony of elegance, resonating within the hallowed halls of your heart. There were no crude remarks or innuendos to mar the purity of her words. Instead, Clara's sincerity shone through, a beacon of authenticity that pierced through the superficialities of the evening. Maybe this occasion requieres her to be proper? But knowing her it seems far fetched. A mischievous twinkle danced in your eyes as you couldn't resist teasing Clara, the princess adorned in her regal attire. With a suppressed giggle, you leaned in closer, ensuring your words remained a clandestine secret between the two of you. The air crackled with anticipation, mingling with the scent of opulence that enveloped the grand hall. "Clara, my dear, I can already sense your yearning to shed off that pompous facade," you whispered, the words escaping your lips like a playful breeze. In that moment, you felt a hint of trepidation, aware of the audacity in addressing a princess with such unabashed directness. To your surprise, Clara stood unwavering, her gaze piercing through the mask of her newfound refinement. There was an indomitable fire in her eyes, a fierceness that belied her regal composure. In a voice tempered with determination, she responded, her words carrying a hint of offense mingled with unwavering resolve. "I assure you, <<print $player_name>>, this is no act," Clara declared, her tone resonating with steely conviction. Her response, laced with a touch of indignation, hinted at the deeper transformation that had taken root within her. The princess had shed her previous persona, embracing a new sense of self that radiated authenticity. A quizzical expression danced across your face, the arched eyebrow revealing your curiosity and the hidden gears turning in your mind. Clara, with her mysterious nature and inscrutable intentions, was always a puzzle to decipher. Yet, for now, you chose to embrace the intrigue and play along with the unfolding drama. Curiosity danced in your eyes as you glanced around the resplendent hall, taking in the majestic gathering of nobles and the watchful presence of the guards stationed strategically in the shadows. The atmosphere buzzed with an air of anticipation, an undercurrent of whispered conversations and stolen glances. Seeking answers, you turned to Clara, your voice laced with intrigue. "So, what is the cause for this grand celebration?" you inquired, your gaze flickering across the crowd, as if searching for clues amidst the sea of finely adorned individuals. Clara's expression morphed into one of astonishment, her delicate hand instinctively rising to cover her mouth. It was then that you noticed the pristine white gloves adorning her slender fingers, an accessory that had eluded your attention until this moment. The subtle gesture of concealing her mouth with gloved fingertips added a touch of strangeness to her demeanor, leaving you even more bewildered. "You mean to say you don't know?" Clara exclaimed, her voice a delicate mixture of surprise and incredulity. Her reaction struck you as genuine, tinged with a hint of disbelief that you, of all people, were unaware of the purpose behind such an extravagant gathering. Perplexed, you struggled to piece together the fragments of this enigmatic puzzle. What could possibly be unfolding beneath the veneer of grandeur? What secrets lay shrouded within the whispers and guarded gazes that permeated the hall? "I wouldn't be asking if I knew!" you say with a huff and getting tired with Clara's cryptic answers. A sudden cough escaped Clara's lips, punctuating the weight of her revelation. The delicate sound reverberated through the air, drawing attention to her gloved hands and the intricate folds of her gown that seemed to hold a hidden tension. With a graceful gesture, she adjusted her gloves, their pristine whiteness a stark contrast to the intensity that danced within her eyes. "It is the judgment of Variel for her accusations," Clara stated with an air of casual nonchalance, as if discussing the most trivial of matters. Yet, the weight of her words hung in the air, drawing your focus with an almost magnetic force. The realization hit you like a bolt of lightning, causing your voice to crack with surprise. "You mean today is the day?" The words slipped past your lips in a rush, betraying your astonishment and capturing the attention of those nearby. The disappointed glares directed your way admonished your lack of decorum, casting a shadow of remorse over your hasty outburst. Clara simply nodded, her regal poise undisturbed by the commotion your words had caused. Her gaze held a mixture of determination and understanding, silently acknowledging the gravity of the situation. With measured words, she continued to divulge the details of the impending trial, each syllable adding to the mounting tension that engulfed you. "And you, Lucian, Garett, and Lee, will act as her representatives and defenders, serving as key witnesses in the trial." The weight of Clara's words settled upon you like a tempest crashing upon a vulnerable city, their implications swirling through your mind with relentless force. Variel's fate, as well as the outcome of her accusations, now rested upon your shoulders. The gravity of this responsibility sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins, mingling with a potent blend of apprehension and determination. As you absorbed the significance of the task before you, the atmosphere in the hall underwent a subtle transformation. Whispers and hushed conversations grew in intensity, as if the very air vibrated with anticipation. Guards, stationed strategically throughout the hall, stood at attention, their gaze focused and vigilant, ready to ensure the smooth progression of the impending trial. A commanding voice pierced through the grand hall, cutting through the air with its authoritative presence. "Alright, everyone, let us gather ourselves and restore order. The time for the proceedings has come!" The orator's words echoed powerfully, resonating through the hearts of those present. In response, the assembled crowd straightened their posture, a collective display of refined elegance. With meticulous precision, they smoothed their attire and adjusted their meticulously styled hair, transforming into paragons of nobility. As the atmosphere brimmed with a palpable sense of anticipation, the crowd began to form orderly lines, like an intricately choreographed ballet. The nobles, guided by an unwritten code of decorum, moved gracefully towards the entrance of the trial chamber. Each step was measured, each gesture deliberate, as they embodied the essence of regality and sophistication. Clara's voice, tinged with a mixture of determination and genuine concern, broke through the commotion. "It seems the time has come," she mused, her eyes filled with a profound understanding of the weight carried by each participant. She gracefully inclined her head in a gesture of respect and goodwill. "Good luck, MC. I wish you nothing but the best," she whispered, her words a gentle encouragement. With that, she retreated from your presence, leaving you to gather your thoughts and emotions. As you followed the procession, your heartbeat quickened with each step, resonating with the collective anticipation of the crowd. The courtroom loomed before you, a cavernous space filled with an air of solemnity and intrigue. Basically the court proceedings will be held in the throne room. One by one, the attendees entered the courtroom, each taking their designated place. The room grew alive with an electric energy as people settled into their positions, standing tall and resolute. At the heart of it all, King Richard, the embodiment of regal authority, sat upon his throne. To his right, his daughter Clara radiated an air of grace and composure, while the empty seat on his left hinted at the absent Queen. In the center of the courtroom, Variel stood, her once-proud head now bowed, burdened by the weight of her thoughts. The confident poise that once defined her seemed to waver, her body betraying a tremor of unease. It was a stark contrast to the strong and defiant woman you once knew. Amidst the sea of faces, your eyes met Lucian's, and a flicker of vulnerability passed between you. His customary charming smile was replaced with a faint, weary expression, a reflection of the toll this trial had taken on him. The weight of the circumstances hung heavily in the air, casting a shadow over his features. Below the imposing throne, Lucas stood, his countenance etched with exhaustion and fatigue. He bore the weight of his responsibilities with steadfast determination, his eyes reflecting the gravity of the moment. He had weathered many storms, but this trial presented a unique challenge that tested even his formidable strength. Garett and Lee, standing shoulder to shoulder, engrossed in their shared knowledge, immersed in a world of parchment and ink. Their quiet exchange of ideas and information spoke of a deep camaraderie and unwavering commitment to the cause. They were ready to employ every resource, every ounce of intellect, to defend Variel with passion and determination. As the team assembled, you felt a surge of purpose and resolve. With every step, you pushed through the invisible barrier of doubt and fear, positioning yourself at the center of the unfolding drama. The weight of the moment settled upon your shoulders, and yet, you stood tall, infused with the unwavering belief in justice and the power of truth. "Hey guys!" You gracefully waved to your companions, acknowledging their presence in this crucial moment. Variel's gaze briefly met yours, but she quickly returned to her brooding thoughts, seemingly consumed by the weight of the impending trial. Her lack of acknowledgment pierced your heart, a sharp contrast to the confrontations and threats you had grown accustomed to. It left you bewildered, wondering if there was a deeper reason behind her silence. //But above all she didn't call you little mouse.// Turning your attention to Lucian, you were met with an exuberant greeting. "Hi Author!" his voice carried a forced enthusiasm, as if he sought to compensate for a concealed weariness. His usually vibrant energy seemed dimmed, leaving you with a nagging sense of concern. What could be troubling him so profoundly? But it was Garett and Lee who drew your gaze, engrossed in a fervent conversation. Their words reached your ears, snippets of an urgent exchange. Lee's voice resonated with urgency, his words pleading for understanding. "We can testify to Variel's reasonableness," he asserted, his tone laced with fervor. "Throughout our journey, she never attacked us. She even complied with your requests, Boss!" Garett's response was laden with frustration, his voice tinged with exasperation. "I understand that, Lee," he sighed heavily. "But how can we prove that Variel isn't merely playing the part of a saint to absolve herself from these accusations? They will undoubtedly question her intentions, and we need substantial evidence to counter their doubts." "All that is-" as the orator's voice resonated through the room, preparing to embark on his prelude to the trial, a sudden disturbance shattered the stillness. The doors on the side of the chamber swung open with a resounding bang, drawing every gaze towards the unexpected intruder. In that doorway stood a figure bedecked in resplendent golden armor, from head to toe, their very presence emanating an aura of authority and power. Held firmly in their grasp was a double-edged sword, its polished surface catching and reflecting the ambient light, creating a mesmerizing gleam that captivated all who beheld it. A vibrant green cape billowed behind them, as if stirred by an invisible tempest, adding an air of mystery and grandeur to their imposing form. A guard, overcome by deference and awe, approached the figure and extended trembling hands to receive the legendary weapon. Bowing their head in humble reverence, the guard became a mere speck in the presence of this enigmatic being. Anticipation hung heavy in the air as the figure, their purpose and identity veiled by the visage of the helmet, reached up to unfasten its clasps. Hearts raced and breaths were held, the collective audience trembling with a mixture of trepidation and excitement, eager for the revelation that lay behind that impenetrable mask. [[Continue|Queen Reveal]]

With deliberate grace, the regal figure before you lifted the helm, revealing a countenance that defied mortal expectations. Cascading golden locks framed a face that exuded a perfect blend of beauty and authority, a visage that could command the allegiance of nations. From beneath a sweeping brow, eyes of celestial blue emanated an ethereal brilliance, piercing through the veil of uncertainty and capturing the undivided attention of all who had the privilege of meeting their gaze. It was as if those eyes held within them the secrets of the universe, a fathomless well of wisdom accumulated through countless trials and triumphs. As the radiant queen made her presence known, a collective hush fell upon the assembled court. In a synchrony of reverence, every soul present sank to their knees, paying homage to the sovereign who held their destinies in her hands. "Give your fealty and loyalty to Queen Isobel!" the orator's booming voice commanded, echoing through the grand chamber. The air quivered with the weight of devotion as the room resounded with the heartfelt chants of the gathered nobles. You witnessed Garett, Lee, Lucian, and even Variel herself, all bowing in humble submission, their unwavering loyalty laid bare before the queen. The resounding declaration of "Long live the Queen and may her reign endure for all generations!" reverberated through the expanse, their voices intertwining to create an impassioned chorus of adulation. Amidst the overwhelming display of devotion, you stood rooted to the spot, a lone figure caught in the rapture of the moment, your astonishment concealed by the fervor of the crowd. Queen Isobel raised her gauntleted hand, a signal that stilled the fervent voices and guided all to rise from their kneeling positions. As the room fell into a hushed silence, her regal gaze fixed upon you, her finger pointing with purpose in your direction. The weight of her inquiry hung in the air, laced with curiosity yet tinged with a palpable sense of awe. "Are you the Dragon Tamer?" she inquired, her voice a melodic blend of curiosity and reverence. In that pivotal moment, the courtroom seemed to hold its breath, every eye trained upon you, awaiting your response. The air pulsed with anticipation, as if the destiny of kingdoms and the hopes of a thousand souls were suspended upon your words. "Yes, Your Majesty," you respond, your voice carrying a mix of respect and determination as you bow your head in deference to the powerful queen before you. Isobel's mere presence commands your utmost reverence, and you find yourself captivated by her every word and movement. Isobel's gaze lingered upon you for a fleeting moment, her eyes seeming to penetrate beyond the surface, as if searching for the truth etched within your very being. Her response was a single word that resonated with intrigue. "Interesting," she murmured, her voice a mere whisper that reverberated with a captivating aura of mystery. However, the queen's attention was swiftly diverted as King Richard's voice rang out, cutting through the tension-laden air. Isobel's gaze shifted away from you, granting you a momentary respite from her piercing scrutiny. With a childlike eagerness, Richard inquired about the outcome of the treaty, his voice brimming with anticipation for the unfolding tale. "I presume the treaty went well?" Isobel gracefully moves towards the throne, settling into her designated seat with an air of authority and purpose. The weight of her presence fills the room, her every movement emanating confidence and command. With a curt yet measured tone, she affirms the success of the treaty. "Of course, I made sure of it," she states, her voice leaving no room for doubt. "Now, let us proceed with this trial," Isobel declares, her voice cutting through the silence like a sword slicing through the tension. The weight of Variel's fate hangs in the balance, and the courtroom collectively holds its breath, waiting for the pivotal moment to unfold. Isobel's gaze shifts down to Variel, her piercing blue eyes assessing the accused with a mix of curiosity and authority. She poses the question, demanding to hear Variel's defense in this important moment. "What does the accuse have to say for herself?" "I want to say that its nic to meet you my Grace!" with a graceful bow of her head, Variel addresses Isobel with an unexpected level of respect. Her words, laced with a touch of reverence, elicit gasps of surprise from you, Lucian, and Lee. The sudden shift in Variel's demeanor leaves everyone stunned, struggling to comprehend this uncharacteristic display of politeness and deference. Lucian, his disbelief written across his face, struggles to find the right words. "Did she just...just..." His voice trails off, unable to fully grasp the significance of Variel's newfound decorum. Lee nods in agreement, his eyes wide with astonishment. "I know, right! She's acting completely proper and ladylike," he adds, emphasizing the stark contrast to Variel's usual brash and fiery nature. In response to your perplexity, Variel snaps her gaze towards you and your companions, annoyance flickering in her eyes. "What's wrong if I'm just greeting the Queen properly?" she retorts, her voice carrying a hint of frustration at the unnecessary attention being drawn to her change in demeanor. Startled by Variel's sharp response, you stumble to find the right words. "It's just that... when we first met, you nearly incinerated me and Lucian," you admit, your voice echoing through the grandeur of the courtroom. "What?" the revelation hangs in the air, causing gasps and whispers to ripple through the room. The gravity of your words settles upon you, and confusion clouds your thoughts. Lee, his frustration evident, delivers a sharp slap to the back of your head, a mix of anger and disappointment fueling his actions. "You dolt! You just unconsciously implicated Variel!" he chastises you, his voice carrying a weight of frustration. Garett, sensing the tension and impact of the moment, steps forward and places a reassuring hand on Variel's shoulder. "It was a pleasure meeting you, in whatever capacity," he offers in a somber tone, his words carrying a bittersweet weight as he acknowledges the implications of your unintentional revelation. King Richard's voice resonates with brimming anger, his face contorted with indignation as he addresses the gathered crowd. "So the accounts are true!" he declares with fury. "This dragoness knows only misery and destruction!" Variel attempts to interject, her voice drowned out by the tumultuous shouts and protests of the crowd. "No, it's not—" Her words are lost in the sea of clamoring voices, each demanding punishment and retribution for her alleged crimes. The air thickens with hostility and an insatiable thirst for vengeance. Suddenly, Queen Isobel's voice pierces through the chaos, cutting through the rising tide of anger and resentment like a gavel striking a podium. Her command carries an authority that demands immediate silence. "SILENCE!" she proclaims, her voice ringing with unwavering power. The room falls into an abrupt hush, every eye trained on the queen as she brings order to the unruly proceedings. "This court," Isobel continues, her tone laced with disappointment, "will serve justice, and it will do so with proper conduct and adherence to established procedures." Her words hang heavy in the air, a reminder of the necessity for fairness and due process, even in the face of overwhelming emotions and prejudgments. The weight of her disappointment settles upon the crowd, casting a shadow of introspection and restraint. "Am I clear sweetie?" Isobel's piercing gaze locks onto Richard, her eyes filled with an unspoken demand for compliance. The weight of her scrutiny causes Richard to involuntarily wipe the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his nerves betraying him in this critical moment. With a trembling voice, he responds, "Why... of course, honey." Isobel's expression softens ever so slightly, a hint of satisfaction crossing her features. However, her tight-lipped silence speaks volumes about her expectations of Richard's obedience. The unspoken power dynamic between the two becomes palpable, a subtle yet potent undercurrent beneath the surface. Turning her attention to Variel, Isobel's voice takes on a tone of genuine interest and empathy. "Anything you have to say, Lady Variel?" she prompts, her words offering a moment of respite amidst the tension that permeates the courtroom. Isobel's acknowledgment of Variel's earlier greetings serves as an unexpected gesture of compassion, evoking a glimmer of warmth in the otherwise cold and austere atmosphere. Variel, her countenance a mix of vulnerability and determination, seizes the opportunity to speak her truth. "Thank you, Your Grace," she replies, her voice carrying a soft timbre that resonates with sincerity. "Also, I appreciate your greetings," Isobel adds, her smile offering a glimmer of warmth and reassurance in the midst of the courtroom's tense atmosphere. Variel's transformation is remarkable to behold. With her head held high and her stance resolute, she radiates a renewed sense of purpose and determination. Her voice rings out in the grand chamber, commanding attention and challenging the accusations leveled against her. It is as if a dormant flame within her has been reignited, casting a warm glow upon her features. he courtroom falls into hushed anticipation, all eyes fixed upon the dragoness who stands before them, resolute and unyielding. With a voice that carries the weight of truth, Variel begins to address the assembly. Her words resonate with sincerity and conviction, unraveling the web of falsehoods that have been woven around her. "I want to say that all these claims are nothing but a tapestry of lies," she declares, her voice ringing clear and unwavering. "I have never strayed far from my home, and my hunts have always remained within the boundaries of my territory. I made a solemn promise to my Mother, and I am determined to honor it with every breath I take." Queen Isobel's eyes sparkle with intrigue as she leans forward, her curiosity piqued. "And what, pray tell, is this promise you speak of?" she inquires, her voice tinged with anticipation. Variel's eyes light up with an inner fire, the passion within her burning brightly. "It is a promise to love and protect all of humankind," she proclaims, her words resonating with a profound sense of purpose. The courtroom stirs with murmurs of surprise and disbelief, the audience taken aback by the unexpected answer that escapes the lips of a creature believed to be a harbinger of destruction. They had expected a beast to justify its actions, not to champion their cause. "Do you have proof ?" as Queen Isobel raises the question of proof, Variel's smirk reveals a hidden confidence. She knows she holds a trump card that will shatter the doubts cast upon her. With a flourish, she gestures towards the closed door, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. All eyes turn towards the entrance, awaiting the revelation that will either solidify her innocence or confirm her guilt. As the door swings open, a hush falls over the room. Stepping into the chamber, Sam the maid, appears, leading a majestic creature by a leash. Gasps of astonishment escape the lips of the onlookers as they behold the magnificent wolf standing beside Sam. Its sleek coat shimmers in shades of silver and midnight, its piercing amber eyes holding an unmistakable air of wisdom and loyalty. Amidst the prevailing uncertainty, Variel steps forward, her gaze fixed upon the captive wolf. She addresses the room with a voice brimming with authority. "Behold, Athos," she declares, unveiling the name of the magnificent creature before them. The wolf's eyes gleam with understanding, its stance calm yet watchful. "A wolf?" Clara's voice rings out, confusion etched across her face. Lee's exclamation of doom is met with playful tears, his dramatic display eliciting a gentle smile from Garett as he comforts his partner. But Variel's smirk widens, knowing that her ace in the form of this wolf, named Athos, will soon unveil the truth. With a commanding gesture, she beckons for Sam to bring the wolf closer. As they approach, the room is filled with a palpable sense of anticipation, mingled with a tinge of skepticism. Queen Isobel leans forward, her gaze fixed upon the enigmatic creature before her. "And what does this wolf have to do with your claims, Lady Variel?" she inquires, her voice laced with both curiosity and caution. Variel's voice carries a note of triumph as she answers, her eyes never leaving the regal figure of Queen Isobel. "Athos here is not just an ordinary wolf," she declares. "He is a witness to my actions, my loyal servant in my kingdom. Whispers ripple through the room as the significance of Athos's presence begins to sink in. The wolf's presence serves as a living testament to Variel's commitment to her promise. His very existence contradicts the accusations of wanton destruction. A knot tightens in your gut as you witness Athos's wagging tail and the unsettling display of its razor-sharp teeth. A sense of dread washes over you, for you recognize the danger that lurks beneath the surface. With urgency burning in your eyes, you approach Variel, your voice a desperate whisper meant only for her ears. "Variel, please, you must stop," you implore, your words laced with an unspoken plea. "The wolf you have placed your trust in... it is not what it seems. It is not on our side." Variel chuckles, her pride rekindled and blazing with a newfound intensity. "I am well aware of what I am doing," she retorts, her voice tinged with defiance as she glares at you for daring to question her judgment. "But this is..." Your words trail off, for Variel moves forward with determined steps, closing the distance between herself and the imposing figures of Queen Isobel and King Richard. Every fiber of your being screams out in protest, warning of the impending disaster that awaits. Variel's eyes meet those of their Majesties, a glint of unwavering confidence shining within her gaze. With a voice steady and resolute, she addresses the monarchs, her words carrying the weight of her convictions. "Your Majesties, I present to you Athos, a witness to my actions," she proclaims, her voice resonating through the chamber. "This wolf stands as a testament to my commitment, my dedication to the protection and coexistence of our two worlds." With a swift gesture, Queen Isobel snaps her fingers, summoning a figure draped in an ethereal mantle and veiled in mystery to her side. The enigmatic presence steps forward, a sense of ancient power emanating from every fiber of their being. Adorned with symbols of nature and clutching a staff aglow with vibrant green energy, it becomes evident that this figure is none other than a druid—a conduit between the mystical realms and the mortal realm. Queen Isobel addresses the druid with a tone of authority, her voice resonating with regal power. "Martha, I beseech you to translate the words of this wolf," she commands, her gaze unwavering. The weight of the moment hangs in the air as Martha, the druid, bows her head in deference and acceptance of her duty. "As you wish, Your Majesty," Martha responds, her voice carrying an air of reverence and wisdom. The room grows hushed, the atmosphere electric with anticipation as all eyes focus on Martha, waiting for her to bridge the divide between the human realm and the language of the animal kingdom. Raising her staff high, Martha channels the primal forces that course through her veins, her connection to the natural world guiding her every movement. The staff pulsates with an intensified glow, casting an otherworldly hue upon the druid and enveloping her in a shimmering aura. A moment of profound silence ensues, as if the very air holds its breath, before Martha finally speaks, her voice laced with an ancient cadence. "The wolf's words shall be known," she intones, the resonance of her voice carrying a profound sense of ancient knowledge. With a flicker of her fingers, the veil of language is lifted, and the enigmatic thoughts of the wolf are revealed. As the truth unfolds, the courtroom is enraptured by the voice of Athos, resonating with a melodic power that seems to transcend the boundaries of mere mortal speech. Athos, though his mouth remains still, projects his words to echo throughout the room, his ethereal voice enveloping every corner. "It is an honor to finally stand before all of you in this illustrious kingdom," Athos declares, his voice carrying an air of reverence and ancient wisdom. The room trembles with anticipation, each person hanging on his every word, their hearts pounding with expectation. Variel, determined to clear her name, steps forward, her eyes locked with Athos. "Athos, I implore you, please speak the truth to this esteemed court. Tell them of my unwavering commitment to my territory," she beseeches, her voice filled with an undercurrent of desperation. With a solemn nod, Athos acknowledges Variel's plea. "Indeed, Empress Variel," he responds, his voice resounding like a celestial choir. His words seem to carry the weight of ages, infused with the wisdom and knowledge of the wild. The court leans in, their breaths held in anticipation of Athos' testimony. "As an emissary of the untamed wilderness and her loyal servant, I can attest to the purity of Variel's intentions," Athos declares, his voice carrying an otherworldly authority. "Throughout the ages, I have roamed these lands, observing the boundaries of her dominion. Never have I witnessed Variel stray from her rightful territory. Her loyalty to her homeland and her vow to protect the human race are unyielding." As Athos continues to speak, his voice takes on a haunting quality, his words laced with the weight of countless battles fought and lives lost. The courtroom falls into a hushed silence, captivated by his chilling account. "I still remember the majestic sight of Empress Variel, soaring through the skies in her resplendent dragon form, ever vigilant in her duty to protect her kingdom," Athos reminisces, his voice carrying a bittersweet nostalgia. "In the beginning, she extended her kindness and consideration, questioning those who dared trespass within her domain, seeking to understand their motives. But humanity, over time, revealed its true colors—manipulative and cruel. They invaded our lands, ruthlessly hunting us, viewing us as mere sport. And so, Empress Variel was left with no choice but to defend her kind, to safeguard our very existence." A somber atmosphere settles upon the courtroom as Athos' words paint a grim picture of the struggles faced by the dragon and their kin. The echoes of his voice reverberate through the room, carrying the weight of countless lives lost in the face of human persistence and brutality. Athos' eyes gleam with a mix of anger and sorrow, his tone dripping with disdain. "Despite the warnings that adorn the outskirts of her domain, boldly declaring the consequences awaiting those who dare to enter, humans remain steadfast in their relentless pursuit. Empress Variel's heart aches for the lives lost, for the innocent creatures slain by their hands. It is a testament to her enduring compassion that she continues to fight for our survival, meting out swift justice to those who would threaten us." A heavy tension lingers in the air as Queen Isobel's words hang delicately, challenging the newfound understanding brought forth by Athos' poignant account. The courtroom remains shrouded in an uneasy silence, awaiting the queen's next move. Variel's eyes narrow, a flicker of defiance dancing within them, yet she remains composed, ready to face any challenge thrown her way. "I apologize for our tendencies," Queen Isobel's voice resonates with a mixture of regret and determination, her tone carrying the weight of her responsibilities as a ruler. The subtle crinkling of her eyes and the glistening within them, momentarily glimpsed, betray the depth of her emotions before they are swiftly masked once more. "But I must ask for another form of proof," she continues, unyielding in her pursuit of truth and justice. A ripple of anticipation courses through the courtroom, every gaze fixed upon the queen and Variel, their fates intertwined within this climactic moment. The weight of the world seems to rest upon Variel's shoulders, and yet her resolve remains unshaken. Variel straightens her posture, her emerald eyes meeting Queen Isobel's unwavering gaze. The room holds its breath, suspended in a delicate balance between hope and trepidation. The queen's request for further evidence underscores the meticulousness with which justice must be served, even in the face of compelling testimony. The resolute dragoness takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with purpose. The room hangs in palpable anticipation, every heartbeat reverberating like a distant drum. Variel's voice, steady and unwavering, breaks the silence. "Your Majesty, if it is proof you seek, then I shall provide it," Variel declares, her words carrying a hint of quiet determination. The courtroom leans in, eager to bear witness to the unfolding revelation. With deliberate grace, Variel extends her hand toward a nearby table, upon which rests a simple wooden box. She opens it slowly, revealing a collection of intricately carved pendant, bearing a unique emblem representing the dragon faction. A collective gasp escapes the lips of those present, their eyes widening in surprise and realization. "These," Variel continues, her voice commanding attention, "are the token that between our race have forged, symbols of alliances forged and lives saved. They stand as testament to the alliances that have been sought with our ancestors who understand the importance of coexistence, who recognize the value of harmony between our worlds." The pendants shimmer in the soft glow of the room, casting a mesmerizing tapestry of colors upon the walls. Each emblem tells a story—a story of trust, reconciliation, and the tireless pursuit of peace. The weight of the evidence, presented before the court, hangs heavy in the air, casting a new light upon Variel's character. Garett's voice trembles with disbelief, his eyes widened in awe. "It can't be... all this time," he murmurs, his words barely escaping his lips amidst the profound moment unfolding before him. Seeking answers and yearning to comprehend the magnitude of this revelation, you turn to Lee and Lucian, who are both drawn in, their gazes fixated upon the display of intertwined destinies. Lee leans in, his voice dropping to a reverent whisper, as if fearing to disturb the delicate balance of the moment. "MC, Lucian," he begins, his voice tinged with wonder, "before the Great Scourge, humans and dragons forged a pact—a pact born out of the necessity to combat a common foe. It was then that these pendants were crafted—a symbol of unity, one for the dragons, and one for the humans. They became a testament to the shared struggle, a reminder that in the face of darkness, we were bound by a bond of peace and camaraderie." The weight of this knowledge settles upon you, intertwining with the stirring emotions coursing through your veins. The significance of the pendants, kept close to Variel's heart throughout the ages, emerges in all its splendor. Clara's voice trembles with sentimentality, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Over the millennia, you have held onto this pendant, carrying the legacy of peace amidst the turmoil that plagued our races," she says, her voice filled with a mixture of awe and admiration. Variel cradles the pendant within her hands, her touch gentle and reverent. She holds it as if it were a precious fragment of her soul, a tangible symbol of her unyielding devotion. Her voice resounds with determination, echoing through the chamber, unwavering in its conviction. "I told you," Variel declares, her voice carrying a blend of strength and vulnerability. "I made a promise to my mother—to honor her legacy, to protect the fragile harmony we forged amidst the chaos. These pendant are not mere trinket but sacred emblems of a pact that transcends time and space." "how cute the two races made some sovenoir before fighting me!" a haunting and chilling voice echoes through the court, a shiver runs down the spines of those present. Its mocking laughter reverberates in the chamber, piercing the atmosphere of connection and hope like a sharp blade. The once tranquil space now vibrates with a sense of impending darkness. Agitation spreads like wildfire, eyes darting anxiously in search of the source of the eerie voice. The people, caught between fear and curiosity, exchange worried glances, their breaths quickening in anticipation. Even the monarchs, pillars of composure, show hints of panic in their eyes, their regal facades momentarily faltering. In the face of this encroaching threat, Lucas, ever the protector, draws his sword with a swift motion, his blade gleaming in the ambient light. His voice carries authority and determination as he issues a command, rallying the guards to action. "Vanguard, IronGuard!" he bellows, his voice cutting through the tense silence. In an instant, the golden-armored guards encircle the royal family, forming a formidable barrier against the unknown assailant. Weapons are poised, glinting menacingly as they reflect the uncertain light. The heavy doors swing open once more, their creaking hinges announcing an ominous presence. A sickening odor, a blend of death and decay, fills the room, assaulting the senses of all within its reach. Gasps turn into gags, and some unfortunate souls even succumb to the overwhelming stench, retching and vomiting in a distressing display of disgust. Slowly, you turn to face the source of the malevolence, the embodiment of the encroaching darkness. Claire stands at the threshold, wielding a scythe crafted from bones, its eerie glow casting ghastly shadows upon her face. Her aura radiates a twisted combination of malice and malevolence, unmistakable signs of a once-familiar ally corrupted by sinister forces. Lucas's voice reverberates through the chamber, filled with surprise and disbelief. "Claire?" he exclaims, his tone a mixture of shock and concern. The sight before him defies reason, as his once-trusted ally now stands as an agent of darkness. A shadowy figure emerges from Claire's back, its form an embodiment of pure darkness. Its presence radiates a malevolence that infects the very air. "Humans and dragons disgust me!" the phantom spews venomously, its voice dripping with seething contempt. The words that spill forth from its twisted lips drip with venom, each syllable laced with a sickening delight in its own wickedness. The court is gripped by a wave of terror, their previous assumptions shattered in an instant. Richard's voice trembles with fear as he speaks, struggling to comprehend the impossible. "This can't be! We destroyed you!" he stammers, his words barely escaping his quivering lips. Isobel, her regal composure momentarily broken, adds her voice to the chorus of disbelief. "We vanquished your existence," she asserts, her voice a desperate plea for reason in the face of an unspeakable threat. But the phantom, fueled by its unyielding hatred, only responds with maniacal laughter, reveling in the fear it has instilled. "Oh, you did manage to inflict wounds upon me and my kin," it taunts, its words laced with a chilling delight. "But your victory was incomplete, and now I shall repay your Kingdom with the same kindness you bestowed upon us," it declares with a solemn promise, its voice dripping with malevolence. As the darkness spreads its tendrils, the once-bright room becomes cloaked in an oppressive gloom. The air grows heavy, as if every breath is a struggle against an invisible force. The light that once poured through the windows now wanes, suffocated by an encroaching darkness that seems insatiable. A collective sense of dread settles over the court, as if the very fabric of their reality is being torn asunder. The sun's rays, once warm and inviting, now seem feeble against the consuming blackness. Shadows dance upon the walls, twisting and contorting in macabre patterns, mirroring the turmoil within the hearts of those present. [[Continue|Gods Vote]]

''(Lucian's POV)'' You followed Garett into a clearing. He raised an arm, pointing to the space ahead of you and said, "Here is good enough." "So what type of weapon do you want to learn?" Garett asked you. You tapped your index finger against your chin, carefully pondering over the possibilities. You wanted something that could provide support from the back lines, so after some consideration, you concluded that a bow and arrow would serve you best, as well as a short sword for close combat. "Can you please teach me how to use a bow and arrow and a short sword, Garett?" Garett let out a hearty chuckle before saying, "Haha, please just call me Garett; Master seems like a handful." He then walked over to a pile of boxes and rummaged through them for a moment before pulling out a bow and quiver. With practiced ease he strung the bow, grabbed two arrows from the quiver, expertly nocked them on either side of the bowstring and drew the string back tautly. His form was flawless as he released both arrows at once towards the tree trunk. Both hit dead center with a thud. "Well this one seems in good condition." Garett hands the bow and quiver at you. Garett handed you the bow and quiver, you could tell just by its weight that it was of exceptional quality. You ran your finger over the edges, feeling the coarse wood beneath you fingertips. With a tug on the silky string you could tell it had been highly maintained and cared for. Garett raised an eyebrow at your expertise, almost as if he knew something about you that you yourself were unaware of. "You sure you’re a beginner?” he asked in a stern tone. You simply nodded with a confident smile, although deep down inside a sinking feeling grew as you remembered Aros' teaching sback in the realm of Gods. "Alright," Garett began, "Listen to me carefully. The bow is a part of you, take care of it and in return it will take care of you. Now when using this weapon you cannot just put a arrow in the string and fire away. No, there are multiple factors to consider." He swiftly fetched two more sets of bows and arrows from, then pointed to one at a particular angle. “Wind trajectory is one of the most important skills when shooting with a bow. You must learn to master this technique if you ever want to become an expert archer." He paused for a moment before continuing, ”There are many types of wind direction that you need to pay attention to; namely how does a tailwind affect arrow flight? Shooting in heavy wind can do two things to your arrow: A headwind or a tailwind will cause the arrow to hit high or low of your aim point while a side wind will cause your arrow to hit left or right of your intended target." Garett demonstrated how a tailwind would adjust the arrow’s flight path by releasing an arrow into the air, sending it soaring above the trees beyond the horizon. It gave you chills watching the sheer power behind such centimetres of wood and string. He notched another arror and draw the string, aiming for the tree trunk he hit earlier. With confidence, strength and speed, Garett released two arrows from each hand aiming for two separate targets before they even met their mark. As if choreographed, both arrows hit their target dead center almost simultaneously revealing masterful precision. "That's so awesome!" you say in awe. "Thanks." Garett says. "Now give it a try." Garett step to the side and allowing you position yourself. You take a deep breath and steady your stance, feet shoulder-width apart and angled at ninety degrees from the target. You extend the bow arm, elbow slightly bent and parallel to the ground. Moving with precise deliberation, you set your anchor point--it's just below your jawline. Your muscles tense as you hold the draw, power radiating through you like electricity. The voice of Aros echoes in your mind: "It’s best not to hold the bow drawn for too long as muscle fatigue can make you waiver." You slowly release the string, all three fingers releasing at once. You watch intently as the arrow hurtles through the sky, following its path until it embeds itself into its target with a satisfying thud. You exhale sharply, marveling at your feat and feeling an immense sense of accomplishment. Following up on Aros' advice, you remember to follow through after the shot, ensuring that your work is exact and true. Your hands move in perfect rhythm as you draw your bowstring back to the corner of your lips. You notch arrow after arrow onto the string, then release them swiftly as if part of an unstoppable machine. Your fingers flutter like butterfly wings towards the quiver for more ammunition, but you soon realize it is empty. You step back and survey the damage; twenty arrows scattered across the helpless tree trunk like a shower of vengeance. "Beginner huh?" Garett muses, sounding impressed. “Beginner's luck and besides you're a great teacher." you grin at Garett. "Well then if that's the case, then let's go with the short sword then." Garett went to his side, unsheathed his sword, and spun it around lightning-fast in a flurry of silver blades, forming a sparkling halo around him as he gracefully whirled it about one finger. He smiled as the moonlight shone off every edge of its perfect surface. "The sword is a versatile weapon, giving you all round speed, maneuverability, power and accuracy." Garett slashed through the air effortlessly with one hand, executing powerful stabs, swings and parries that left trails of glimmering light in their wake. Every hit seemed effortless and precise, as though his sword were an extension of his arm. "The downside is that you need to be close to hit your target but with your bow that will never be a problem because your enemy will try to neutralize you first for having the longest attack range." He says calmly. "Another one is the killing power is very lacking, so try to aim for the weak points of your enemy such as the neck, armpits, eyes and between the legs so that if you cut them good they will die from blood loss." Garet advices wisely. "Go on give it a few swing." Garett spins his sword and pointing the handle towards you. You grasped the sword, your knuckles turning white from the tightness of your grip. Your mind was flooded with memories of you and Aros sparring in the training yard, as she gifted you with a shortsword and showed you how to slice with calculated precision, parry with swift accuracy, and seize opportunities when presented. "Timing, distance, and understanding of sword technique are integral components of any sword duel," Aros explained solemnly. "But there is one other factor that cannot be undermined: the length of your weapon in comparison to your opponent's. For a short sword or knife, an entirely different technique must be employed." "Using a shorter weapon can give you an advantage," she continued. "With less range than a full-length blade and faster movements due to its smaller size, short swords offer agility and opportunity. Step back out of range of your opponent's cut then swiftly move your short sword to intercept and counterattack." Aros demonstrated as she spoke, her steps measured and precise as she moved across the training grounds. "Remember also that just about any part of a sword can be used during combat - not just the blade. Use the hilt or crossguard when needed to get your opponent off guard." Aros rush at you with her sword raised high into the air. You quickly reacted by raising your own to block it before sidestepping out of her way. Her blade crashed into the ground with an imposing crack as you followed up by delivering a powerful kick to her side. "Impressive!" Aros complimented. "Always keep them guessing - switch your grip mid-fight and dance around your foe to avoid their blows! Don't let them gain an edge over you." The voice of Garett draws you out of your reverie and you noticed that you have been moving around and slashing the air. "You're a natural." Garett praises you, admiration glowing in his eyes. "Thanks." your voice is strained as heavy breaths escape your lungs. "Look Lucian, I must know- why do you seek to learn such dark and horrible arts?" Garett questions you. "To protect those I care for," you respond with determination, wiping away the sweat dripping down your forehead. "A noble cause but remember that lives may be taken in order to preserve those you cherish!" Garett's stern warning hangs in the air like a dark cloud. The weight of Garett's words settles heavily upon you; what would your sister think of the person you've become - taking lives instead of nurturing them? "Hey Lucian how about a spar?" Garett offers. You smirk, your confidence growing by the second, and reply "Sure, but I won't go easy on you." The tension between the two of you amplifies as you both enter into a fighting stance. ''(MC's POV)'' <<set $strength = 10>> <<set $endurance = 10>> <<set $finesse = 10>> <<set $wisdom = 10>> <<set $charm = 10>> <<set $guile = 10>> <<set $agility = 10>> <<if $weapon == "sword" >> <<set $guile = 15>> <<set $wisdom = 15>> You tightly grasped the grip of the sword, marveling at its perfect balance. You unleashed your strength and fury, swinging the shining blade in sharp arcs as it mercilessly sliced through the air with a powerful hiss. Each movement was precise, graceful and showed effortless control. Lee watched you with an intense gaze, his face radiating admiration. He stepped towards you and slowly planted one foot on the butt of the spear handle. His muscles bristled as he pushed himself away from the ground and into a soaring leap. The spear twirled around him majestically as if flying through the air of its own accord before Lee smoothly caught it with a single outstretched hand. You were entranced by his display of skill and agility, and complimented him with a chuckle. "Showoff!" you teased light-heartedly, respect oozing from your words at his mastery of weapons. Lee simply grinned widely, his eyes gleaming mischievously. ""Well, how else am I supposed to show you some tricks if I don't show you my techniques?" he winked cheekily, barely masking his pride. Lee twirled the spear in his hand, making it twirl with a low hum before stopping abruptly and firmly planting its butt end against the dusty ground. "Listen to me <<print $player_name>>, one of the weaknesses of the sword is if your enemy has reach advantage than you!" he raised a finger, emphasizing his point. "Second, a sword sometimes lacks the killing power when your foe is wearing armor from head to toe." His voice became more animated as he moved around and spoke. "Lastly, you will need to be on the move and need to shift stance mid-fight so that you can adapt to the flow of battle." Lee warns. He plucked the spear and held it aloft in front of him, pointing its tip towards you menacingly. Then he stretched forward, extending himself into an aggressive posture — his feet planted firmly against the ground as he crouched down slightly. "Now I want you to do the same with your sword," he commanded. You followed suit and extended your sword side by side with the spear, projecting your power forward into a threatening display. "As you can see <<print $player_name>>", Lee hissed through gritted teeth, "before you can get close or even hit me" — with a swift motion he thrust forward his spear, narrowly missing your face — "I already attacked yours or even killed you". Lee slowly lowered his spear and spoke in a solemn tone, "What make the sword unique is its adaptability. Swordfights can be won with more than just the blade, you must also learn to use other tools such as a bucksler, dagger or even a secondary sword. Not to mention your enemies will often believe that they have an advantage in combat due to their own egos, giving you the upper hand during battle." Lee slowly moved into an en garde stance, rotating his neck and loosening up for the demonstration. Lee raised the spear in his hands and plunged it firmly into the ground, making a twack sound as it struck. You reluctantly handed your weapon to Lee, feeling an uneasy worry that you may never regain possession of it. "Now, balance is key with this weapon," Lee said, planting his feet shoulder- width apart and hunkering down. "Grip the handle with just the right amount of force - neither too tight nor too lax." He slowly tightened his grip on the weapon before continuing. "Every part of this sword is a potential weapon; if need be, don't hesitate to use the handle for skull-bashing against your foes." A maniacal grin spread across his face as he uttered these words. "Raise your blade level with your arms," Lee continued as his eyes narrowed. "Focus all your energy on your opponent." Lee's voice bellowed through the air. "When facing off against your enemy, you need to consider what kind of weapon they're utilizing. Don't just recklessly charge in head-on. If they have an axe, try attacking them from the sides since it is a heavy and slow weapon, but the size of the axe needs to be taken into account as well. Now, get close - don't give them any room to maneuver!" The tension in the air thickened as Lee stepped forward. His words reverberated throughout the area. "Be cautious! Even if they can't utilize their axe, they can use their hands and feet to hurt you." Demonstrating his point, Lee dodged swiftly to his left, making it seem like there was a huge man swinging an axe right in front of them. "Try tiring out your enemy," he said as he made low slashing motions with his weapon - probably meant to simulate attacking their legs to reduce their mobility. "Evade and attack whenever you see an opening," he continued as he weaved around his imaginary foe, cutting through the air with every movement. "But what if you're fighting an armored enemy, well this can be a little tricky, sharp-bladed weapons is hopeless against them, so if you can find some blunt weapons such as an mace or hammer then use it but if not then try to aim for the weak spots of the armor namely on the armpits, backs of the knees, palms of the hands, and the visor that covers the face basically if there is any hole you can see, then just thrust your weapon in there." Lee took a different stance and instead of dodging he started to circle around his imaginary foe. "Since your foe is armored, they tend to be reckless because they thought they are protected in their amor but the downside of being encased in metal is that your vison is limited and your movements will be very limited and especialy if the terrain is muddy and uneven." Lee attack the air but this time precise and in one location only. Lee, his chest heaving with exhaustion, stood tall and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He then graced you with a determined nod - "Now it's your turn." He pivoted on the balls of his feet to face you and held the tip of the sword aloft, offering you the handle. With a surge of anticipation, your hand fumbled as it reached out and grasped it firmly. Lee glided back to where his long spear sat, its shaft lightly grazing the dirt. He grasped it firmly with both hands and raised it above his head. "Let's see if you can apply the techniques I taught you in a sparring match," he declared as he spun the weapon around and brought the blade down to rest onto the earth, holding it close to his back. You stepped forth, mirroring Lee’s stance. Your feet spread wide apart, your eyes intense and focused. You tightened your grip on your sword, raise it forward and readied yourself for battle while Lee held his weapon aloft, silently gauging your readiness. The match began with a thunderous roar. You lunged forward, instinctually throwing out a wide slash towards Lee's chest. But instead of attacking, you pulled back your weapon and skidded to the side as you felt the wind of his spear brush against your cheek. You quickly spun around, preparing to meet his next blow. But then, something unexpected happened. Lee had lowered his spear and was now descending into a low stance, beckoning you forward as if inviting your attacks. Taking advantage of this opportunity, you dashed forward and thrust your sword at him, aiming for the spot between his shoulder blades. At the same time, he readied himself to dodge your attack while simultaneously sweeping his spear around in an arc towards your leg in an attempt to trip you up or knock away your sword. You leapt valiantly over his sweep, just barely missing it with a few inches and landed on the other side of him with a thunderous thud! Your momentum sent you into a spin, allowing you to slash your weapon in the air wildly. But Lee was nowhere to be found. "Below you." Lee's voice calmly called out from below. You felt his leg sweep under yours just in time, flipping you onto your back. With one hand planted firmly on the ground and his leg still extended. "The spear is not my only weapon you know!" He raised one hand to emphasize his point, tapping his leg confidently for emphasis. His eyes glowed as he radiated confidence and determination. "The only way to win this match is to use your wits and skill! Be creative! Push yourself to your physical limits. Think of ways to penetrate an enemy's defenses!" He shouted and sitted down on the ground with a sigh.. "Nah! What you did was a low blow!" you jeered at Lee. "A low blow?" Lee cackled with laughter. "What a lame way of saying that I kicked your butt!" His sneers rained down on you like icy hail. "But still, I have got to give credit where it is due." He inclines his head in respect. "I must admire your footwork and body movement, you really kept me on my toes." "Buttttt!" he raised a finger, pointing at you. "Remember next time, you had good initiative <<print $player_name>> but bad judgement." His voice thundered through the air, reprimanding you. Lee rose and stretched his arms, flicking away the dirt on his clothes. He glanced at you with a smirk before extending a hand to help you up. "Come on now," he grinned mischievously, "We woudn't want to freeze your ass on the ground!" he chuckles. You reached out and Lee hoisted you up to your feet. "Lee, <<print $player_name>>! How's the training?" Garett's voice booms in the clearing. You and Lee tunred to Garett's direction and you see Lucian is trailing behind him, a sword sheath to his hip. "Very fruitful, <<print $player_name>> is a fast learner." Lee slap your back playfully. "Is that so?" Garett inquires. "Then how about a spar between our apprentices." Garett offers. "Only if its fine with you <<print $player_name>> of course."Garett continues. You look to Lucian and you his eyes are hard, face stoic and looking at you with intensity. ''//(Note: Rejecting the offer of Garett will have no consequences and accepting it will not add any point to your stats, think of it just additional fluff and flavor ;)//'' [[Agree to spar|Spar 2 Agree]] [[Protest to spar|Spar 2 Protest]] <<elseif $weapon is "spear" >> <<set $finesse = 15>> <<set $agility = 15>> You clenched the spear's handle tightly in your palm, feeling its rough wooden shaft graze against your skin. "Look at all the cool things you can do with that thing," Lee chuckled as he slid his hands into the handles of his scythe. "The spear has an incredible reach, but don't forget that it can be a major weakness too," he said pointedly. "A lot of times your enemies will try and overpower you by rushing right at you, so it's important to keep your distance and take them down from afar." In a single swift motion, Lee whipped around with the scythe sending a gust of air towards you. "If they see me armed with this baby and how skilled I am with it, they're going to pause for a few seconds to think about their next move," he instructed. "But don't count on those extra moments because even if your opponents are afraid or hesitant at first, they might still dare to rush in again." Lee nodded sternly as if confirming what he'd just said. You nodded in understanding, letting the teachings sink in. "Let's see how well you can put this into practice," Lee said as he stepped back and readied his weapon. You raised the spear in front of you, both hands gripping its shaft tightly. You heard Lee give the signal and before you could think your body had already reacted with swift movements of your arms and legs, blocking each attack that came at you while attempting to thrust your spear forward only when it was safe enough to do so. Every move had a purpose: one moment you took a step back to gain distance; then immediately followed it up with a lunge forward in order to catch your opponent off guard. The clash of weapons echoed throughout the air as sparks flew between them from each impact. Your heart raced but still managed to stay focused on the task at hand; dodging Lee's heavy swings and counterattacking whenever there was an opening for it. The battle seemed endless until finally after a flurry of spark and blade. Lee twirled the syche between his fingers, his body turning and rotating in sync with it. The metal of the scythe glinted with every movement under the scorching sun. You rushed towards him, but suddenly you stopped mid-way, the fear of being sliced by the blade making your heart race faster than a wild horse. Lee swept the handle of the sychte low and sweeping your leg under you in one smooth motion, throwing you to the ground. "Looks like you need some more practice before you can beat me <<print $player_name>>!" Lee chuckled as he rested the hammer head of the syche on his shoulder. "You cheated!" You laughed as pain filled your body, preventing you from standing up. "How am I suppose to bypass your defence when you keep spinning that thing in your hands." You sat there, defeated. "That's a secret <<print $player_name>> and a secret that you will learn if I deem you worthy enough." Lee laid down the scythe on the ground and plopped down beside you. "But here's a advice for free." Lee winks at you. "It's all about precision and timing, everything you do must be done with care and thought in mind. If you want to stand any chance against me or the odds of life, that is what you need to practice. What I just showed you was the rudimentary basics of combat, now it's up to you to take it further." You looked at Lee in awe, a feeling of understanding slowly dawning on you. You wanted nothing more than to continue training with him until the day your skills matched his own. You vowed to yourself that one day you would beat him and master every secret he had yet to tell. "Lee, <<print $player_name>>! How's the training?" Garett's voice booms in the clearing. You and Lee tunred to Garett's direction and you see Lucian is trailing behind him, a sword sheath to his hip. "Very fruitful, <<print $player_name>> is a fast learner." Lee slap your back playfully. "Is that so?" Garett inquires. "Then how about a spar between our apprentices." Garett offers. "Only if its fine with you <<print $player_name>> of course."Garett continues. You look to Lucian and you his eyes are hard, face stoic and looking at you with intensity. ''//(Note: Rejecting the offer of Garett will have no consequences and accepting it will not add any point to your stats, think of it just additional fluff and flavor ;)//'' [[Agree to spar|Spar 2 Agree]] [[Protest to spar|Spar 2 Protest]] <<elseif $weapon is "scythe" >> <<set $strength = 15>> <<set $endurance = 15>> You tightened your grip around the handle of the scythe, feeling its weight in your hands as you began to swing it, slicing through the air with a swoosh. "Woah there! Be careful when you swing that thing," Lee chuckled. "First thing's first, the scythe hammer is a deadly weapon against your enemies, but it can be just as deadly to your friends too – you need to always be aware and observant of your surrounding environment. Second, you must build up momentum while swinging it – any failure to do so could cost you dearly. With this in mind, Lee grabbed his own sword from the stumps and quickly thrust forward – showing off quick and precise strikes. "Thirdly, you need space and room to wield and use it properly." He pointed towards your scythe with his sword. "Plus," he added, "you need good upper body strength and stamina if you want to use it for extended periods of time; failing that, the enemy might not kill you but battle fatigue will." Lee then faced you and settled into a battle stance, spreading his feet apart. "Now I want you to swing it and try to hit me – don't be shy!" he grinned widely at you. At first, you looked at him hesitantly, but seeing as he smiled confidently at you, thinking he knows these things better than you, made you decide to spin your body around. Yet again before you could even move an inch forward, Lee had already closed up his distance between the two of you and raised his sword in order to blunt the tip of your scythe's blade – halting all of your movements. "Lastly: never let your enemies get close to you; otherwise something like this might happen." He chuckled again before standing back and giving you some space. "Alright now – give it another try!" he shouted at you loudly. Rather than turning around once more, this time you decided to lift the scythe over your shoulder before charging forward – yet again Lee rushed ahead of you and blocked your path by bringing his sword right above the handle of the scythe, thus restricting all of your movements. "Yikes, you will be dog food by now." Lee says disappointed. Irritation bubbles within you." Fine why don't you show it to me then?" you snap at him. Lee chuckled and slammed the sword onto a nearby tree stump. "Give it to me and let me show you how a pro does it." He boasted, seeming all too eager to prove his superiority. You reluctantly handed him the scythe, rolling your eyes in disbelief of his confidence. "Watch and learn," he said as he grasped it with ease. "Try getting close to me," Lee challenged as he beckoned you forward with an inviting gesture. You accepted, bracing yourself for whatever was to come. As soon as you got within reach, Lee met you halfway and using the body handle of the scythe, pushed you back forcefully, making you fall on your seat. "The blade isn't your only weapon <<print $player_name>>," he declared with an arrogant smirk. "You can use the bulk of the body of the scythe however you see fit." With lightning speed, Lee adjusted his grip on the scythe before thrusting it at your face, his right hand near its head as he held its blade inches from your face. "You can also change the grip of the scythe," he continued with a grin. Lee confidently grabbed the sturdy handle of the scythe, a formidable weapon with a long curved blade. Holding it low, he raised the blade in an upwards angle to demonstrate his point. "Start low," he emphasized. "This is where your opponent least expects you to attack from, and having the blade facing up gives them a false sense of security. Then switch up the angle like so." He demonstrated by sharply adjusting the angle of the scythe until it was pointing sideways. "You can hook their feet and sweep them off balance, leaving you with the upper hand for finishing them off." He adjusted the blade yet again, this time making sure to show off its sharp edges and serrated design. "Be mindful of the edge of the weapon too - I've sharpened both sides of the blade to a point and made sure to create serrated teeth so any attempt to catch this baby with bare hands will be incredibly painful." With a wink and an encouraging gesture, they offered you their hand. You grasped Lee's proffered hand, feeling the strength and sinewy power beneath his calloused palm. He hoisted you to your feet with a single effortless gesture. "Now how about a spar?" Lee dropped his grip from yours and strode towards where his sword was still embedded in the wood. He carefully withdrew it with a loud clank, turning back to you with an intimidating glint in his eye. "Sure!" You checked the weight of the scythe in your hands, adjusting your grip as Lee had demonstrated earlier. The weapon felt comfortable in your hands - a natural extension of yourself. "That's good, applying what you learned." Lee praised you before rotating his sword arm and stretching out his legs in preparation for battle. "But the real question here is...can you apply it in battle?" His eyes seemed to drill into you as he hunkered down and settled into an aggressive stance. You inhaled, preparing for battle. You thrust the scythe forward, the blade pointed towards Lee as you deftly stepped forward in an attempt to catch him off guard. He blocked your assault swiftly, his sword clanking against the flat of your weapon. His expression remained determined and focused as he parried each attack with great finesse. Lee readjusted his stance and quickly blocked another one of your downward swings. You tried to regain balance as he delivered a fierce horizontal slice, forcing you back several steps before you could recover. His every move seemed so calculated and precise, but you refused to back down and continued to defend yourself with all your strength. The clash of steel became louder and more intense as both combatants began to exchange powerful blows back and forth. The weapon felt like it was a part of you now - guiding your movements through the thicket of blades as they arched towards their target with deadly accuracy. Your heart pounded in your chest, feeling alive and excited at the thrill of combat. You lunged forward with your scythe held high, the hammerhead swinging fast towards Lee. He sidestepped just in time, and as you passed he jumped onto the head of the blade, using it to propel himself into the air. As if standing on the edge of a cliff, he reached his arm out and unleashed a mighty slap across your face, sending searing pain through your cheek. You recoiled back and shouted in anger at him. "That hurt!" Lee chuckled, his voice deep and reverberating throughout the night. "Trust me, a slap is better than a punch. You need to change up your fighting style too," he continued matter-of-factly. "You're becoming predictable." He chuckled and continued, "You should learn to adapt to different fighting styles and develop new slashing attacks when you're in battle. Because I'm not some grass ready to be reaped by your scythe!" Sitting down with a grimace of pain, you felt drained and exhausted but organised yourself enough to respond, apologetically: "Sorry..." Lee softened his tone, still slightly scolding you but admiring all the same. "It's alright, you're getting really good with that." He gestured towards the fallen weapon. "Lee, <<print $player_name>>! How's the training?" Garett's voice booms in the clearing. You and Lee tunred to Garett's direction and you see Lucian is trailing behind him, a sword sheath to his hip. "Very fruitful, <<print $player_name>> is a fast learner." Lee slap your back playfully. "Is that so?" Garett inquires. "Then how about a spar between our apprentices." Garett offers. "Only if its fine with you <<print $player_name>> of course."Garett continues. You look to Lucian and you his eyes are hard, face stoic and looking at you with intensity. ''//(Note: Rejecting the offer of Garett will have no consequences and accepting it will not add any point to your stats, think of it just additional fluff and flavor ;)//'' [[Agree to spar|Spar 2 Agree]] [[Protest to spar|Spar 2 Protest]] <</if>>

''//(Note: THings are about to get bumpy Readers so expect a lot of scenes changes happening in this part. The God's votes and the Lich part!)//'' //''(Lucille's POV)''// As you find yourself once again summoned by the Gods, a sigh escapes your lips, laden with weariness and a touch of frustration. Time seems to stretch endlessly as you are drawn away from the pressing matters that demand your attention. This repetitive cycle of voting, though imbued with significance, begins to test the limits of your patience. The divine chamber stands before you, its grandeur and magnificence a testament to the power that resides within. Golden columns reach towards the heavens, adorned with intricate carvings that depict ancient tales of gods and mortals. The air is heavy with anticipation, charged with the energy of the divine beings who await your arrival. Oris, the presiding deity, commands attention with a voice that resonates like thunder, cutting through the silence that engulfs the chamber. "The voting will commence," he declares, his words echoing with a sense of finality. he ancient book and quill, symbols of divine decree, lie poised at the center, awaiting the imprint of the Gods' favored vote. The eyes of the assembled deities shift towards you, their gazes a blend of curiosity and anticipation. As the silence stretches, Era, the embodiment of love, breaks the stillness. Her voice, measured and composed, reverberates through the chamber. "The dragon," she declares, her words carrying a weight that sends a shiver down your spine. Your heart skips a beat, bracing for the imminent judgment. Oris, intrigued by Era's proclamation, leans forward on his throne, his piercing gaze fixed upon her. "What of her?" he inquires, his voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and caution. Era's response is delivered with cool detachment, her eyes betraying nothing. "Strip her of her powers," she states, her words slicing through the air with a chilling finality. The atmosphere in the chamber grows heavy with tension as the implications of Era's decree settle upon everyone present ''//(MC's POV)//'' As you turn your gaze away from Claire, your heart fills with a potent mixture of concern and despair. Lucas, filled with determination, steps forward, distancing himself from the protective enclave of the monarchs. His voice trembles with a plea, "Claire, what have you become?" Claire remains ominously silent, her eyes fixed upon Lucas, her expression inscrutable. The weight of her transformation hangs heavy in the air, casting a shadow over their once unbreakable bond. Lucian, ever the observant and intuitive one, takes a step back, his instincts warning him of the imminent danger that emanates from Claire. His voice carries a note of concern as he voices his realization, "There is something terribly wrong with her." "Lucas is right Claire!" Garett, his eyes filled with worry, echoes Lucian's sentiment. With cautious steps, he approaches Claire, his hands raised in surrender, a gesture of trust and understanding. The room holds its breath, the silence broken only by the faint sound of their racing hearts. The phantom, a specter of pure darkness, hovers in the air, a silent observer of the unfolding turmoil. Its presence adds an eerie and foreboding atmosphere to the already tense room, intensifying the sense of impending danger and the gravity of the situation. Claire remained motionless, an eerie stillness enveloping her like a statue carved from stone. The air crackled with anticipation as Garett approached her, his outstretched arm mere inches away from her grasp. Then, in a sickening twist, the scythe Claire held transformed before your eyes, morphing into a menacing hammer. Gripping it firmly with both hands, she unleashed a devastating swing towards Garett with unrelenting force. Time seemed to slow as Garett's body tensed, his eyes widening in disbelief. The attack blindsided him, his reflexes barely enough to bring his arms up in a futile attempt to block the hammer's crushing blow. The impact echoed through the room, reverberating off the walls, as Garett was sent hurtling through the air, his body colliding with one of the grand pillars that adorned the chamber. The sound of shattering bones and Garett's anguished cry pierced the silence, sending shockwaves of horror through the hearts of those who witnessed the tragedy unfold. Lucas, his sword slipping from his grasp, reacted with lightning speed. The anguish etched on his face, he abandoned all caution, rushing to Garett's side in a desperate attempt to ease his pain. Lee, snapped out of his petrified state, shook his head in disbelief, his eyes welling with tears, and swiftly joined Lucas in supporting their fallen comrade. The room trembled with raw emotion, a tempest of grief and fury, as loved ones rallied together in the face of tragedy. Amidst the chaos, Variel's presence loomed large. With an air of determination, she stretched her powerful neck, the scales on her skin shimmering with anticipation. She cracked her knuckles, the sound echoing through the chamber like a harbinger of impending doom. Raising her hand, a radiant glow enveloped her palm, casting a brilliant white light that seemed to defy the darkness that clung to Claire's essence. The phantom, sensing the imminent threat, emitted a spine-chilling screech, recoiling in terror from the radiance that emanated from Variel's hand. "The light!" it exclaimed in dread, realizing its vulnerability. In a desperate act of self-preservation, it plunged itself deeper into Claire's form, seeking refuge within her shadowy depths, desperately concealing itself from the blinding light. As chaos descended upon the court, a tide of panic swept through the crowd, causing a frenzy of self-preservation. In their desperate attempts to save themselves, the people pushed and trampled one another, disregarding the safety and well-being of their fellow beings. The very fabric of unity and compassion unraveled, giving way to the destructive forces of fear and self-interest. Amidst the mayhem, Claire's transformation continued, her hammer morphing into a deadly spear that gleamed with malevolence. With each swift and calculated strike, she pierced, slashed, and lunged at those foolish enough to venture near her. Her movements were a grotesque dance of death, twirling through the air, leaving a trail of broken bodies in her wake. The once pristine floor of the chamber now bore witness to a macabre tapestry, painted in shades of crimson, a stark reminder of the carnage that had unfolded. The people, witnessing the growing pile of lifeless bodies and feeling the suffocating grip of despair, faltered in their advance, their path blocked by the monstrous entity that had once been their friend. Realizing their predicament, they retreated, seeking solace and safety in the ranks of the knights who valiantly fought to protect their sovereigns. Enveloped in a shroud of rage and sorrow, Variel's voice reverberated through the chamber, a primal scream of anguish and defiance. "You bastard!" she bellowed, her words laced with a fiery determination that matched the inferno gathering in her hand. The torrent of flames, born from her wrath, surged forward, its searing heat seeking to consume the abomination that stood before her. Claire, however, seemed to possess an otherworldly defense. With a mere flick of her hand, she erected a shadowy barrier, blocking the scorching flames from consuming her entirely. But Variel, undeterred by the initial setback, summoned her elemental power once more. With her other hand, she unleashed a second onslaught of inferno, a relentless assault that sought to engulf Claire in a conflagration of justice. ''//(Lucillie's POV)//'' "Why do you want to do that?" As the question hung in the air, you turned to Era, the Goddess whose decision held the fate of Variel and ultimately the course of MC's journey. Deep down, you understood the value of Variel's alliance, knowing that her strength and wisdom were indispensable in the battle against the Lich. The stakes were high, and <<print $player_name>>'s chances of victory seemed precarious without her. Your inquiry pierced Era's calm facade, and she responded with an exasperated roll of her eyes. "First, because I want to," she retorted, her voice tinged with impatience. "And second, MC's life would become dull and devoid of growth if the dragon were always there to save them. They need to face adversity and overcome challenges to truly thrive." The weight of Era's words hung heavily in the room, and Oris, the presiding deity, called for the court's verdict. Valmir, a distinguished figure with a commanding presence, rose from his podium and brought down his gavel with resounding force. "Era is right," he declared, his voice echoing through the chamber. "How can MC truly grow if they are shielded from pain and hardships? They must face the trials that lie ahead." Ione, a deity of time, followed suit, emphatically slamming her own gavel down. "Time is a delicate and precious gift," she proclaimed. "MC needs to savor every moment, even the ones marked by adversity and struggle, for it is through those experiences that true growth and character development emerge." Atris, known for her morbid fascination with death, slammed her gavel down with manic delight. "More death! More drama!" she exclaimed, relishing in the chaos and unpredictability that would ensue. As the tension built, Aros and yourself abstained from casting your votes, recognizing the magnitude of the decision at hand. However, the majority of the deities favored Era's proposition, and the outcome was sealed. With a quiet sense of resignation, the book at the center of the room began to write the new decree, etching the path of pain and hardship that MC would have to navigate. ''//(MC's POV)//'' As you cheered for Variel, hope surged within you, but it was quickly extinguished as Variel's flames dwindled and finally flickered out, leaving her stunned and disbelieving. Her hands trembled as she stared at them, unable to comprehend the loss of her powers. Panic gripped your heart as you witnessed the charred remains of Claire's barrier, the flames having managed to breach its defenses, but Claire's wounds began to heal before your eyes. Suddenly, the phantom emerged from Claire's back, its malevolent presence permeating the air. It taunted Variel with contempt, relishing in her weakened state. "You're becoming weak, dragon!" it sneered, its voice dripping with malice. "And this time, I will make it permanent!" Raising its hands high above its head, the phantom summoned dark energy that manifested as purple chains, emerging from the very ground. They coiled around Variel's arms, constricting tightly, and soon another set of chains emerged, seizing her by the legs and forcefully pulling her down to her knees. Variel cried out in agony as the chains bound her, her voice echoing with pain and despair. "Variel!" you cried out, fear and worry consuming your thoughts. But before you could reach her, a piercing scream erupted behind you, shattering the air with its intensity. You turned and saw Lucian falling to his knees, his body collapsing forward and crashing onto the ground, face-first. //''(Lucille's POV)''// Impatience surges through your veins, your voice laced with frustration as you demand, "Is that all?" The weight of Oris's next words hangs heavily in the air, resonating with sorrow. "There is one more," he says, his voice laced with gravity. "I vote to strip Lucian of his Godhood," Oris pronounces, his words filled with anguish and pain. In response, your fist crashes down upon the podium with a resounding thud. "What?!" you exclaim, shock and disbelief etched across your face. Valmir, too, recoils at Oris's unexpected proposal. "Why would you want to strip Lucian of his power?" Valmir interjects, his surprise palpable. A somber gleam flickers within Oris's eyes as he offers his rationale. "Because it is time for him to learn how to live and understand the struggles of mortality," he explains, his voice tinged with a mixture of sadness and determination. Rage builds within you, your fists pounding against the podium in a crescendo of frustration and anger. "How could you?" you seethe, struggling to find the right words to convey your shock. "He's my bro—," you begin, only to be swiftly interrupted by Oris. "I know, I treat Lucian as a son of my own," Oris reasons, his voice thick with sorrow and shame. An explosion of emotion ripples through the chamber, as all the gods turn their attention towards your heated exchange with Oris. Bowing his head low, Oris acknowledges his own remorse. "A father who wants to discipline his son," he admits, his voice laden with the weight of his decision. "Who is in favor of this decree?" he calls out, his words hanging heavily in the air. Valmir, weighed down by a heavy heart, reluctantly raises his gavel. "He's right, Lucielle. Lucian must learn the consequences of his actions," he declares, his voice filled with a profound sense of resignation. Your gaze shifts to Ione, observing the pensive expression on his face. "Lucian is a bright young man, always managing to annoy the life out of me," he muses, a mixture of exasperation and affection coloring his words. "Yet in this mundane existence of mine, he's the one who brings a smile to my face and makes me laugh. I abstain," he affirms, nodding in solidarity with you. Era, the formidable Goddess, slams her gavel without hesitation, devoid of any remorse. "The boy needs to be punished," she declares coldly, her words cutting through the air like a blade. Next, Aros's turn arrives, and with unwavering resolve, she immediately declares, "I abstain." Her voice resonates with determination, like unyielding stone. Era scoffs, attempting to undermine Aros's stance. "Aros, don't let your feelings for Lucian cloud your judgment. I can sense it emanating from you, especially when the two of you are training," she condescends, her tone dripping with disdain. "I abstain!" Aros repeats, her voice firm and unwavering, her decision resolute as concrete. Gratitude wells within you as you nod appreciatively in Aros's direction, acknowledging her act of compassion. Finally, Atris's turn arrives, and desperation seizes you. You implore her, your voice filled with heartfelt pleas and desperate entreaties. You would go to any length, even kneeling and kissing her foot or her ass, if it meant swaying her vote. Yet, regret and pain etch across Atris's face as she shakes her head. "I'm sorry," she whispers, raising her gavel high. Time seems to slow as you watch the gavel descend, each second elongated, until it finally crashes against the podium with a deafening sound. Your eyes dart to the center, where the quill dances wildly across the parchment. The words it writes send shockwaves through your very being—Lucian, your cherished brother, is now mortal. An explosive surge of anger and despair engulfs you, and you snarl, baring your teeth in defiance, directing your fury towards the other gods who have brought about this irreversible change. Oris steps forward, attempting to calm the tempest within you. His voice resonates with a mix of concern and reassurance. "Lucielle, your brother will be fine," he assures, his words an attempt to quell the storm. "I have not completely stripped him of his Godhood; he is now a demi-God," he explains, his voice carrying a gentle cadence. Your response is laced with sarcasm and bitter cynicism. "And you think that will make me feel better?" you retort, your words dripping with sardonic venom. ''//(MC's POV)//'' A radiant burst of vibrant purple light engulfs the area, its brilliance captivating your attention. Variel, trapped within the relentless grip of the phantom, becomes the focal point of the unfolding tragedy. The phantom, a sinister and ethereal figure, hovers menacingly, its hands outstretched, clutching an eerie jar with an aura of malevolence. Desperation fills Variel's eyes as she valiantly struggles against the chains that bind her, her every movement a testament to her unwavering spirit. However, the powerful magic that envelops her proves insurmountable, rendering her efforts in vain. A surge of helplessness washes over you, an overwhelming desire to rush to her aid, but an inexplicable fear holds you captive, freezing your body in place. The phantom's chant, a haunting melody that emanates with an otherworldly resonance, amplifies Variel's torment. Her anguished screams pierce the air, carrying with them the weight of her suffering. Smoke coils and dances around her trembling form, a physical manifestation of the pain that courses through her. Your heart wrenches, and your every fiber yearns to break free from the invisible shackles that confine you. The instinct to protect, to shield Variel from this unspeakable agony, battles against the fear that keeps you rooted in place. It is a torment of its own, a clash of emotions that threatens to consume you. In a sudden and unexpected turn, the phantom withdraws its hand, and from within Variel's chest emerges a searing red flame. The flames converge, coalescing into the majestic form of a dragon, its fiery essence embodying a terrifying power. The phantom, its features twisted in delight, guides the fiery dragon toward the waiting jar. As the dragon nears, Variel's vibrant tattoos, once symbols of her inner strength, begin to fade from existence, vanishing as if they were mere illusions. A sadistic satisfaction lingers in the phantom's voice as it proclaims, "Durandal, The Eternal Flame!" The jar greedily captures the fiery essence, sealing it away. Without hesitation, the phantom conjures yet another soul, but this time it is a brilliant shade of blue, embodying the frigid essence of ice. Variel's body undergoes a metamorphosis, her scales cascading to the ground, as the blue dragon made of ice emerges from within her. It is a bittersweet sight, her strength being stripped away, piece by piece. The phantom proudly proclaims, "Aerolia, The Everlasting Winter!" as it confines the icy entity within the jar. Variel's cries of anguish intensify, her tears mingling with the pain that ravages her body, an image that pierces your soul. As your heart shatters for Variel, your gaze shifts involuntarily, landing on Lucian, who lies motionless and unconscious. A surge of urgency swells within you, torn between two loved ones in need. Your mind whirls with the weight of your decision. But as you contemplate your next move, your gaze sweeps across the throne room, taking in the vacant throne and the absence of the King, Queen, and Clara. The people huddle together, seeking refuge and safety in the protective embrace of the knights. Lee and Lucas remain steadfast at Garett's side, Lucas sobbing uncontrollably, while Lee's head hangs low, the weight of the trauma etched upon his features. In this tumultuous moment, you realize that your decision holds immense weight, and the fate of those you hold dear rests in your hands alone. [[Rush to Lucian]] [[Rush to Variel]]

The sound of Variel's screams filled the air, causing a chill to run down your spine. You knew deep down that Variel was strong; she was capable of handling herself. At least, that's what you kept telling yourself. But right now, your heart and soul were at war, torn between hope and despair. Lucian needed you more, and you knew that you had to be there for him. As you rushed to his side, the sight that greeted you was heart-wrenching. His smile was gone, and his once-bright eyes were now dull and lifeless. You slid next to him, cradling his limp body in your arms. "Lucian, are you alright?" you asked, your voice trembling with fear. There was no response from him, and you felt a knot form in your stomach. "Lucian!" you called out to him, desperation lacing your voice. But still, there was no answer. It was as if he was lost to the world, his body limp and unresponsive. You could feel your heart racing as you tried to bring him back, shaking him gently in your arms. The weight of it all was almost too much to bear, and you felt hot tears streaming down your face. "Please, Lucian, don't leave me," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. The silence that followed was deafening, and it was as if the world had stopped turning. But you refused to give up on him. You had to believe that somehow, someway, he would wake up. "LUCIAN!" you cried out again, the sound of your voice echoing into the abyss. It was then that you felt him stir, his body moving ever so slightly in your arms. It was a small glimmer of hope, but it was enough to rekindle the fire inside of you. "Lucian, can you hear me?" you asked, your voice hopeful yet cautious. A moment passed, and then his eyes fluttered open, the bright glimmer returning to them once more. "<<print $player_name>>?" he rasped, confusion etched on his features. As you held Lucian closer, relief washed over you in waves. The tension and fear that had gripped you moments ago were replaced by an overwhelming sense of joy. "Yeah, it's me," you said softly, your voice filled with warmth. His confusion was evident as he looked around, trying to make sense of what had happened. His gaze fell on your arms, and you could see the curiosity in his eyes. "What happened?" he asked, his voice laced with confusion. "And why is your hand glowing like the sun?" he asked, his tone full of wonder. You followed his gaze and saw that indeed, your hand was glowing, the light radiating from a symbol branded onto your skin. It was a dragon, coiled around a sword, its eyes glinting in the bright light. The phantom's frustration was palpable, its entire being pulsing with anger. Its voice was shrill and piercing as it screeched in anguish. "Curses!" it wailed, its victory slipping through its grasp. "Your parents have bestowed upon you their protection, dragon. Your soul remains safe for now, but they will pay the price!" The phantom's malevolence was etched in every syllable. Despite its defeat, the phantom's wicked smile was evidence of its malefic intent. Its dark delight was evident as it sneered, a sinister glimmer dancing in its eyes. "However," it declared triumphantly, "I believe it is time to lay my own mark upon you!" With a swift motion, the phantom's spectral hand began tracing intricate patterns in the air, forming a circle that pulsed with ominous energy. The very atmosphere seemed to tremble as the phantom weaved its sinister enchantment. As the phantom's conjuring reached its apex, a sigil emerged upon Variel's chest, its ethereal glow casting an otherworldly illumination upon her. The sigil was a twisted symbol of the phantom's malevolent intentions, shimmering with an eldritch power that pulsed with an eerie light. The sigil seeped into Variel's being, its energy suffusing her every fiber. She gasped in shock as the sigil's power washed over her, her body trembling as if with fever. She felt as if she were being consumed by a malevolent force. "What have you done to me?" she cried out, her voice raw with fear. The phantom's laughter was cruel and mocking, its spectral form dancing with dark glee. "I have made you powerles," it declared, its malevolence seeping into every word. " And soon, you will know what I meant!" The phantom's gaze snapped to you, its attention suddenly drawn to the light emanating from your hand. "The Chosen One," it spat, its voice laced with disdain. "Come Claire, let us leave! This place vexes me!" The phantom declared, plunging itself into Claire's being. But just as Claire is about to vanish, a voice pierces through the air, resonating from the other side of the chamber. "CLAIRE!" Lucas's voice echoes with raw intensity. "CLAIREEEEEEEEEEEE!" His desperate cries echo through the chamber, filled with anguish and desperation. Claire, caught off guard by Lucas's unexpected outburst, snaps her gaze back towards the wall that previously shielded her. As if in response to Lucas's unwavering determination, the barrier dissipates, disintegrating into the shadows from whence it came. You turn your gaze towards Lucas, and the sight before you is nothing short of astonishing. Lucas stands transformed, consumed by a seething rage that radiates from his very being. His eyes burn with an unquenchable fire of vengeance, fueled by the injustices he has witnessed. With his head tilted back, he raises his voice once more, his anguished cry reverberating throughout the chamber. "CLAIREEEEEE! What did my father do to deserve this?" His words are filled with a potent mix of despair, disbelief, and an unwavering determination to uncover the truth. Lucas's chest heaves up and down, his breaths ragged and frenzied, as he takes determined strides toward Claire. His mouth hangs open, snarling like a wild beast unleashed from its cage, his features contorted with a visceral rage that threatens to consume him entirely. In this moment, he is untamed, driven solely by his overwhelming emotions. The intensity of his presence is palpable, electrifying the air around him. He pays no heed to the danger that Claire may pose, for in this moment, all that matters is his desperate quest for answers and retribution. His eyes, filled with a turbulent mix of pain and fury, bore into Claire's, demanding acknowledgment, demanding an explanation for the unforgivable. "Lucas?" Claire's voice trembles with a mixture of astonishment and uncertainty. She gazes at him as if seeing him for the first time, her eyes widening in recognition. The sight of him, transformed by his anguish and wrath, pierces her soul. "I'm sorry!" Claire's voice trembles with sorrow, her admission carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken apologies. The words hang in the air, reverberating through the chamber, as you stand there, caught between the tumultuous emotions of Lucas and Claire. Lucas, his face contorted with disbelief and anguish, shouts out in a crescendo of pain and betrayal. "SORYYYYYYYY!" His voice echoes, a desperate cry that seems to shake the very foundations of the room. Claire's eyes, filled with regret and anguish, meet Lucas's gaze, seeking solace and understanding amidst the chaos that has consumed their world. The vulnerability in her gaze is palpable, baring her soul to the one person who means everything to her. "Yes, I truly am sorry," she confesses, her voice quivering with raw emotion. "I was a coward for not telling you that I love you with all my heart." she confesses, baring her soul in a last-ditch effort to bridge the chasm that has separated them for far too long. But Lucas, fueled by a maelstrom of anger and pain, responds with words of an entirely different nature."I WILL KILL YOU...KILL YOU!" he bellows, his voice carrying the wrath of a wounded soul. The intensity of his emotions fuels his charge, his body propelled forward by an unyielding desire for vengeance. As the fury consumes him, Lucas charges at Claire with reckless abandon, his vision clouded by a blinding rage. But Claire, in a display of power that belies her fragile appearance, raises her hand in an instant. The shadows envelops her, a barrier of protection that encircles her being. It is a force of magic, fierce and impenetrable, shielding her from Lucas's impending onslaught. The room falls silent, save for the echoes of Lucas's anguished cries as he collides with the invisible barrier. The impact reverberates through the chamber, a collision of forces that sends shockwaves through the air. And then in one last act , Claire is consumed by the encircling energy, vanishing from sight as if she were never there at all. As Claire vanishes from sight, the oppressive chains that once bound Variel vanish into thin air, releasing her from their constricting grip. Weakened by the ordeal, Variel crumples to the ground, her body overcome by exhaustion. With utmost concern, you rush to her side, your every step filled with a sense of urgency and care. But you took one last glance over at Lucian, whose trembling form struggles to find stability. "Will you be alright?" you inquire, your voice laced with genuine concern. Lucian musters a weak smile, his determination shining through his weariness. "Yeah, I'll be fine," he assures you, though his unsteady movements betray his struggle. For a moment, you choose to stay by his side, lending a supporting arm to steady his balance, ensuring he's safe and secure. Satisfied that he's as stable as can be, you reluctantly part from his side, the weight of your purpose pulling you towards Variel. You approach Variel with trepidation, your heart heavy with worry. Her still form lies motionless, her delicate features softened by the serenity of unconsciousness. Yet, the rise and fall of her chest assures you that she still clings to the thread of life. It is a bittersweet reassurance, a flickering flame of hope amidst the encroaching darkness. Your gaze inevitably drifts to the mark etched upon Variel's chest. It glows with an otherworldly purple radiance, the intricate symbols within forming a mysterious circle. The vivid glow pulsates with an energy that seems both familiar and foreign, its presence a constant reminder of the malevolence that has beset her. As you observe the mark, a surge of emotions wells within you. Anguish, anger, and determination intertwine, propelling you towards a path of action. You vow to uncover the meaning behind the infernal language inscribed upon Variel's chest, to decipher the purpose of this enigmatic mark that now taints her very being. The weight of responsibility settles upon your shoulders, a burden you willingly bear for the sake of the one you hold dear. [[Continue|Aftermath]]

Your gaze snaps away from Lucian, your heart torn between the two beings you hold dear. The weight of your decision settles heavily upon your shoulders, and with a deep breath, you find yourself focusing solely on Variel. A pang of regret courses through your veins, but there is no turning back now. As if sensing your resolve, the phantom's excitement becomes palpable, its ethereal form quivering with anticipation. Its voice rings out, a chilling proclamation that reverberates through the air. "The last and the thorn on my side! Songixxone, The Raging Variel!" it exclaims with fervor, its eyes gleaming with malevolence. Variel, despite the tears that glisten in her eyes, her face contorted with pain, harbors a fiery ember of hatred within her gaze. A hush falls over the room, broken only by Variel's labored breathing and the faint echoes of her muffled sobs. Every eye in the chamber is drawn to the heartbreaking sight, witnessing the torment inflicted upon this once-mighty soul. The air crackles with an electric intensity, the tension thick enough to be sliced with a blade. It is a moment of reckoning, where the fates of those involved hang precariously in the balance. Variel's trembling form seems to embody the battle within her spirit. The flames of defiance flicker and dance amidst the pain, refusing to be extinguished. Her eyes, though clouded with tears, gleam with an undying resolve. The hatred burning within them speaks volumes, a testament to the strength she musters to endure this unspeakable ordeal. With a determined gaze, you meet Variel's eyes, silently conveying your love, your pain, and your unwavering support. It is a connection that transcends words, a lifeline in the midst of despair. In that fleeting instant, you gather the strength needed to carry on, to face the consequences of your decision, and to fight for the salvation of those you hold dear. The phantom, sensing your defiance, emits a chilling cackle that reverberates through the chamber, causing shivers to crawl up your spine. With an air of arrogance, it raises its hands, hovering ominously near Variel's trembling form. "Claire, erect a wall. I won't tolerate any pests disrupting my concentration," the phantom sneers, venom dripping from every word. Claire, seemingly under the phantom's sway, obeys its command. With a simple raise of her hand, shadows begin to swirl and coalesce, forming a formidable barrier that blocks your path to Variel. Undeterred by this obstacle, fueled by a surge of determination, you charge towards the wall, unleashing a primal fury that overrides the protests of your weary body. Again and again, you slam your shoulder against the solid darkness, each impact jarring through your bones and sending echoes of pain coursing through your being. But the wall remains steadfast, as if fortified by an impenetrable force. Variel's agonized screams penetrate through the barrier, seeping into your soul, fueling your resolve to overcome this formidable obstacle. With every ounce of strength, you relentlessly pound and punch the unyielding wall, desperation mingling with determination. And then, in the midst of the struggle, a radiant glow begins to emanate from your hand, illuminating the surrounding darkness with its ethereal brilliance. The glow takes on a pristine white hue, resembling the purest light, and it serves as a beacon of hope, a symbol of the power within you. Driven by a newfound surge of energy, you summon every ounce of willpower to push through the oppressive barrier. With a final exertion of force, you breach the wall of shadows, your body slipping through the defensive veil. As you emerge on the other side, you cast your gaze downward, where a mark catches your eye—a dragon coiled around the hilt of a sword. The phantom's frustration was palpable, its entire being pulsing with anger. Its voice was shrill and piercing as it screeched in anguish. "Curses!" it wailed, its victory slipping through its grasp. "Your parents have bestowed upon you their protection, dragon. Your soul remains safe for now, but they will pay the price!" The phantom's malevolence was etched in every syllable. Despite its defeat, the phantom's wicked smile was evidence of its malefic intent. Its dark delight was evident as it sneered, a sinister glimmer dancing in its eyes. "However," it declared triumphantly, "I believe it is time to lay my own mark upon you!" With a swift motion, the phantom's spectral hand began tracing intricate patterns in the air, forming a circle that pulsed with ominous energy. The very atmosphere seemed to tremble as the phantom weaved its sinister enchantment. As the phantom's conjuring reached its apex, a sigil emerged upon Variel's chest, its ethereal glow casting an otherworldly illumination upon her. The sigil was a twisted symbol of the phantom's malevolent intentions, shimmering with an eldritch power that pulsed with an eerie light. The sigil seeped into Variel's being, its energy suffusing her every fiber. She gasped in shock as the sigil's power washed over her, her body trembling as if with fever. She felt as if she were being consumed by a malevolent force. "What have you done to me?" she cried out, her voice raw with fear. The phantom's laughter was cruel and mocking, its spectral form dancing with dark glee. "I have made you powerless," it declared, its malevolence seeping into every word. " And soon, you will know what I meant by it!" Its eyes snap back to you, a mixture of rage and vindictiveness burning within its ethereal gaze. "Kill mc?them, Claire!" the phantom commands, pointing an accusing finger in your direction. The air crackles with an electric charge as Claire, seemingly compelled by the phantom's influence, begins to advance towards you. However, fear flickers in her eyes, causing her steps to falter. Your hand, bathed in the radiant glow of pure light, acts as a beacon, drawing her attention and igniting a spark of hope within her heart. "The Chosen One!" the phantom spits with disdain, its voice dripping with irritation, as if you were nothing more than a bothersome mosquito on its skin. The dichotomy of the situation intensifies—the darkness of the phantom's presence juxtaposed with the radiance emanating from your very being. As the phantom hovers menacingly near Claire, a sense of unease emanates from its very being. "Let us depart this place. It irks me," it hisses, its voice dripping with contempt. With a swift motion, the phantom lunges towards Claire, its dark essence intertwining with hers. And then, in an instant, it turns its back, preparing to flee from the scene. But just as Claire is about to vanish, a voice pierces through the air, resonating from the other side of the chamber. "CLAIRE!" Lucas's voice echoes with raw intensity. "CLAIREEEEEEEEEEEE!" His desperate cries echo through the chamber, filled with anguish and desperation. Claire, caught off guard by Lucas's unexpected outburst, snaps her gaze back towards the wall that previously shielded her. As if in response to Lucas's unwavering determination, the barrier dissipates, disintegrating into the shadows from whence it came. You turn your gaze towards Lucas, and the sight before you is nothing short of astonishing. Lucas stands transformed, consumed by a seething rage that radiates from his very being. His eyes burn with an unquenchable fire of vengeance, fueled by the injustices he has witnessed. With his head tilted back, he raises his voice once more, his anguished cry reverberating throughout the chamber. "CLAIREEEEEE! What did my father do to deserve this?" His words are filled with a potent mix of despair, disbelief, and an unwavering determination to uncover the truth. Lucas's chest heaves up and down, his breaths ragged and frenzied, as he takes determined strides toward Claire. His mouth hangs open, snarling like a wild beast unleashed from its cage, his features contorted with a visceral rage that threatens to consume him entirely. In this moment, he is untamed, driven solely by his overwhelming emotions. The intensity of his presence is palpable, electrifying the air around him. He pays no heed to the danger that Claire may pose, for in this moment, all that matters is his desperate quest for answers and retribution. His eyes, filled with a turbulent mix of pain and fury, bore into Claire's, demanding acknowledgment, demanding an explanation for the unforgivable. "Lucas?" Claire's voice trembles with a mixture of astonishment and uncertainty. She gazes at him as if seeing him for the first time, her eyes widening in recognition. The sight of him, transformed by his anguish and wrath, pierces her soul. "I'm sorry!" Claire's voice trembles with sorrow, her admission carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken apologies. The words hang in the air, reverberating through the chamber, as you stand there, caught between the tumultuous emotions of Lucas and Claire. Lucas, his face contorted with disbelief and anguish, shouts out in a crescendo of pain and betrayal. "SORYYYYYYYY!" His voice echoes, a desperate cry that seems to shake the very foundations of the room. Claire's eyes, filled with regret and anguish, meet Lucas's gaze, seeking solace and understanding amidst the chaos that has consumed their world. The vulnerability in her gaze is palpable, baring her soul to the one person who means everything to her. "Yes, I truly am sorry," she confesses, her voice quivering with raw emotion. "I was a coward for not telling you that I love you with all my heart." she confesses, baring her soul in a last-ditch effort to bridge the chasm that has separated them for far too long. But Lucas, fueled by a maelstrom of anger and pain, responds with words of an entirely different nature."I WILL KILL YOU...KILL YOU!" he bellows, his voice carrying the wrath of a wounded soul. The intensity of his emotions fuels his charge, his body propelled forward by an unyielding desire for vengeance. As the fury consumes him, Lucas charges at Claire with reckless abandon, his vision clouded by a blinding rage. But Claire, in a display of power that belies her fragile appearance, raises her hand in an instant. The shadows envelops her, a barrier of protection that encircles her being. It is a force of magic, fierce and impenetrable, shielding her from Lucas's impending onslaught. The room falls silent, save for the echoes of Lucas's anguished cries as he collides with the invisible barrier. The impact reverberates through the chamber, a collision of forces that sends shockwaves through the air. And then in one last act , Claire is consumed by the encircling energy, vanishing from sight as if she were never there at all. The chains that had tightly bound Variel's fragile form vanish into thin air, relinquishing their grip as if bowing before an unseen force. She crumples to the ground, her body weakened and drained from the ordeal. With desperate urgency, you rush to her side, your heart pounding in your chest like a war drum. Gently, yet with a sense of urgency, you gather her fragile form into your trembling arms, your touch both tender and protective. "<<print $player_name>>?" Variel's voice trembles, her gaze searching your eyes for reassurance amidst the chaos that surrounds you. Tears well up in your own eyes, the weight of the situation bearing down upon you, threatening to crush your very spirit. In a choked whisper, you implore her, "No, call me little mouse...please." It is a name that holds a bittersweet significance, an emblem of the bond you share and the hope that it represents—a reminder that she still lives! Variel's weakened form stirs slightly, a weak chuckle escaping her parched lips. "Little mouse, huh?" she utters, her voice a mere whisper carried on the wind. Her eyes, heavy with exhaustion, flutter closed as she finds solace in your protective embrace. Your heart aches at the sight of her vulnerability, at the toll that this ordeal has exacted upon her spirit. Clutching her closer, you gently brush a strand of hair away from her sweat-dampened brow, your touch conveying a silent promise. "Everything is going to be alright, Variel," you murmur, your voice filled with a mix of determination and desperation. The rhythmic rise and fall of her weakened breathing offers a sliver of hope—a fragile reminder that life still flickers within her fragile frame. Yet, as your gaze falls upon her chest, a heavy weight settles upon your heart. A mark, dark and foreboding, mar her once unblemished skin. It is a mark that serves as a cruel reminder of the phantom's insidious grip, a symbol of the essence that has been ruthlessly stolen from Variel. It is a mark that signifies her loss, the theft of her very being, [[Continue|Aftermath]]

You look around your surroundings, and the sight that greets you is a macabre one, filled with the horror and devastation that Claire has wrought. The ground is littered with the bodies of the fallen, young and old alike, all bearing the gruesome marks of Claire's weapon. Some are sliced open, their innards spilling out onto the ground, while others have been pierced through by the sharp edges of the weapon. As you make your way through the scene of destruction, you see the surviving attendees tending to the dead bodies, their faces twisted in agony and despair. Some are wailing inconsolably, their voices echoing across the area, while others are slumped on their knees, unable to comprehend the enormity of the loss that has befallen them. A group of knights attempts to guide the mourners away from the area, their shoulders heavy with the burden of the tragedy. They seem almost overwhelmed by the sheer number of bodies that have been laid out before them, the stench of death filling the air and clouding their senses. As you approach a group of mourners, you see the depth of their grief etched on their faces. One woman clutches the body of her child, tears streaming down her face as she lets out a heartrending cry. A man stands beside her, his eyes blank with shock and disbelief. "How could this happen?" he mutters, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Why did she have to do this? Why did she have to take everything away from us?" His words hit you like a physical blow, and for a moment, it's as if the whole scene freezes in time. You're struck by the senselessness of the tragedy, by the loss and grief that seem to permeate every inch of the area. As you scan the chaotic scene, your eyes rest upon a group of women tending to Variel, checking for any wounds and bandaging her head. The knight is quick to place her gently onto a stretcher, and they carry her away from the site of the carnage. Even Lucian, once a picture of strength and composure, is suddenly gasping for breath, his hands clutching onto his knees. One of the nurses rushes to his side and helps him to lay down on a stretcher, glancing around frantically for any other wounded persons. However, your attention is suddenly drawn to Lucan, who is still standing immobile, transfixed by the spot where Claire vanished. His fists are clenched, and his eyes are blazing with an emotion that you cannot identify, as though he's waiting for Claire to reappear and finish the job that she started. One of the knights approaches Lucan, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and speaking in a low, soothing voice. However, Lucan's eyes remain fixed in an unblinking stare, his body seemingly frozen in place. Your body aches as you try to make sense of the recent events that unfolded. The air was thick with tension as you take a moment to gather yourself. Suddenly, a hand lands on your shoulder, offering a sense of comfort amidst the chaos. You look to your side to see Lee's bitter smile etched across his face. You both share a knowing look that conveys the heavy burden you both carry. With a sense of shared understanding, Lee withdraws his hand and begins walking towards Lucas, his footsteps measured and purposeful. As Lee approaches Lucas, their eyes meet in a silent exchange of emotions. You can feel the anger and anguish slowly lift as Lucas recognizes the strength of their friendship. His walls begin to crumble, replaced by a glimmer of hope born from the support of his loyal friend and father. Just then, a gentle voice interrupts the moment of introspection. A nurse approaches you with a look of concern in her eyes. "Excuse me, Dragon Tamer, but may I check if you have sustained any injuries?" With a nod, you allow her to examine your body for any hidden wounds. Her touch is gentle yet firm as she moves her hands over your form, searching for any signs of injury. As her hand reaches yours, her movements come to an abrupt halt. Her gaze narrows as she spots the marking on your skin. A hushed gasp escapes her lips, and her voice trembles with awe as she murmurs, "The prophecy..." Her words hang in the air, heavy with significance. Suddenly, everything clicks into place, and you know at once your destiny. "You are the Chosen One," the nurse declares, her voice filled with reverence and awe. Confusion clouds your mind, and you can't help asking the nurse about the prophecy. "What prophecy?" you say, disbelief laced in your voice. The nurse's eyes flicker with fascination as she traces the marking on your skin. "The prophecy dictates that a dark and vile evil shall rise from the shadows and wreak havoc upon everything it touches, just like what has happened now!" she gestures around her. "But the prophecy also states that a chosen one shall appear in the midst of tragedy and help us in our hour of need, and now, you have arrived!" Her voice is filled with reverence and awe as she speaks. Despite the sense of purpose that fills you, a nagging feeling gnaws at the back of your mind. You need to know more. "How does the prophecy end?" you ask the nurse, hoping for any concrete answers. The nurse's eyes lose their shine, and she speaks in a hushed whisper. "We don't know," she says, her voice barely audible. "It only states that the forces of good and evil shall clash, but it doesn't say who will come out victorious." Her words send shivers down your spine as you contemplate the weight of your destiny. Suddenly, a knight's cry for help echoes through the halls, and the nurse bows before you. "I beg your pardon, but my duty calls. Farewell for now." With a last nod, she hurries away, leaving you to contemplate the enormity of what lies ahead. As you stand there, lost in thought, a knight of the Vanguard approaches you. His golden armor creaks and clanks with every movement, a testament to his bravery and strength. "Greetings, Dragon Tamer," he nods in acknowledgment, paying due tribute to your newfound status. "Their Majesties would like to speak with you. Kindly follow me, please." His voice is firm and respectful, leaving no room for argument. The knight leads you through a throng of mourners and healers, past the scene of unspeakable tragedy that has left you reeling. The corridor you enter is dimly lit, and the flickering torches cast a warm glow upon the cold stone walls. As you move forward, you see two guards standing at attention before a grand door, and as they spot you, they snap to attention. Without a word, they swing open the doors, and you enter a grand chamber, bathed in the warm orange light of a roaring fireplace. Seated at a large table, you see the rulers of the land - the Queen, the King, and Clara. They seem to be enmeshed in a heated discussion, but as you enter, they turn to regard you with solemn expressions. "So its true then, you have finally arrived to save us from this evil!" Isobel says somewhat joyfully. A surge of frustration courses through your veins, your hand instinctively curling into a tight fist to shield the mark from prying eyes. The weight of betrayal settles upon your shoulders as you witness how easily humanity seeks to exploit and manipulate, using you as a mere pawn in their grand designs. "What is the meaning of this mark?" you demand, your voice tinged with a mix of anger and weariness. It seems everyone around you holds knowledge of the prophecy, while you remain in the dark, left to piece together fragments of a greater truth. In response to your exasperation, Richard rises from his chair, a determined gleam in his eyes. He strides purposefully toward a weathered grimoire resting on a nearby table, its pages filled with ancient wisdom. With practiced ease, he flips through the parchment until his finger comes to rest on a specific passage. "Here," he says, tapping the carefully penned words, his voice resolute. "Come, read it for yourself," he beckons, extending an invitation to unravel the mysteries concealed within the book's aged pages. As you approach the book, you see an image of dragons and humans looking deeply into each other's eyes, bearing gifts. The dragons are giving the humans their fire, and the humans return the favor by giving the dragons their hearts. "Huh?" you ask, pointing to the picture, still not fully understanding. Clara notices your confusion and immediately jumps in to explain. "It's a symbol, fire for the dragons, representing their loyalty, and humans represented by their hearts, their utmost dedication. Think of it as a blood pact, written in ink and words!" Her voice is filled with conviction, and you can sense the deep importance of this pact. The image seems to vividly illustrate the strength of the bond between humans and dragons, a bond that has existed for generations. It also represents a promise between both parties, a sacred duty that must not be broken. As you read the page, you can sense the weight of responsibility that comes with bearing this mark. ''//Dear Fellow Humans, As I pen these words, I hold onto the hope that our species remains united, that the bridges between us remain unbroken, and that we can find a way to heal the rift that divides us. From the moment this grimoire was first inscribed, we have been privy to a prophecy of grave significance, one that foretells the emergence of a malevolent force set on obliterating life and shattering the very fabric of our existence. Upon learning of this prophecy, our leaders made a pact, shrouding their actions in secrecy, vowing never to speak of it again, in the desperate belief that by burying their past, they could thwart the prophecy's ominous fulfillment. Yet, if you find yourself reading this letter, it is a clear indication that their efforts have faltered, that the ghosts of our history have returned to haunt us. Our sole salvation lies in the emergence of the Chosen One, a figure destined to arise alongside the encroaching darkness. They will be our beacon of hope, our valiant champion against the impending evil, and they shall strive to ensure its everlasting defeat. However, let it be known that should they falter in their quest, the fate of our world will be sealed in doom. To all who read these words, I implore you to prepare for the coming war. Train the Chosen One diligently, for their skills must be honed to perfection, their spirit unwavering. But remember, they must not face this formidable adversary alone. We must rally together, for even the Chosen One, if not guided by pure intentions, may succumb to the very darkness they seek to vanquish, becoming a threat of equal magnitude. Unite their allies, assemble a force capable of standing strong against the tide of malevolence that looms on the horizon. These words, penned with love and desperation, carry the weight of Durandal, the Eternal Flame. May they serve as a clarion call to action, a catalyst that ignites the courage and determination within each of us. The readers, caught in the swirling storm of emotions, their hearts pounding with anticipation, find themselves drawn deeper into the intricate web of destiny and the impending battle that will determine the very survival of our world. With unwavering hope, Durandal The Eternal Flame//'' The room falls silent as you stare intensely at the group of people seated across from you. They look at you with apprehension, unsure of how to react to the sudden rage that has overtaken you. As you take in a deep breath, you focus on a strange sight before you - a fiery seal, Durandal. "Durandal?" you repeat the name, reading it aloud once more. Isobel nods with a sparkle in her eyes, speaking wistfully about him. "Yes! Durandal, our representative before he became the leader of the dragon kind, always believed in the equality of humans and dragons. He emphasized that skin and scales should not divide us." Richard chimes in with a sense of pride, "Durandal worked for years to establish peace between us humans and dragons. Peace we have enjoyed for many centuries." But as soon as they mention the war, a wave of anger overtakes you. The mere thought of humans and dragons living in conflict goes against everything you believe in. You feel the need to act in a forceful manner and slam your fist down on the table, grinding your teeth together. "You mean to tell me that dragons and humans coexisted in harmony for centuries, and yet, one day things changed. Tell me, who started this madness?" you demand in a hard voice. Clara's shoulders sag as if she carries a heavy burden when she speaks in a defeated tone. "We don't know. They simply attacked us without warning, and when we asked for clarity, they accused us of provoking them." You feel a sense of hopelessness as Clara talks about the war and the loss it brought both species. You could hear the screams of death and the whispers of agony that the war left behind. Shaking your head, you growl in frustration. "And each of you, never thought about the consequences of your actions?" you scream as if the nightmares from the war played out in your mind. The room fell silent as you expressed your disappointment in your own kind. "Tsk!" you clicked your tongue in exasperation. "Humans are really destructive! All we seem to know is how to destroy," you added, your disdain for your own species palpable. But Clara stood up, her chair crashing to the ground. "Don't blame everything on us," she reasoned, her voice sharp. "What about them?" she gestured to the side. "Did you ever stop to think that they might have started it?" Your head shook in disbelief. "Dragons don't attack without any reason!" you retorted. Meeting Clara's gaze, you did not back down. "I am the Dragon Tamer, remember? All my life, I have researched them," you proclaimed, a tinge of anger in your voice. You knew that the dragons in your story had been written to be vindictive and not the instigator, but perhaps the gods had rewritten your story and changed the sequence of events. You cursed internally for the gods' meddling hands, unsure of who to believe. Clara's eyes narrowed, and she stepped closer to you. "How do you know?" she hissed, her voice laced with accusation. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "I just know," you replied, your voice firm. The tension in the room had reached a boiling point. Everyone was on edge, unsure of who to trust or what to believe. The war between the two species had left deep scars, and it seemed like the wounds would never heal. "Enough!" Isobel's voice rang out, cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. "Fighting about the past will not change anything, and we must focus on the present so that we can pave a way for a better future!" Her voice was resolute, and her words echoed through the room, urging everyone to move on from the past and look towards the future. Isobel walked over to a bookshelf, her fingers tracing over the spines of the books as she searched for something. Finally, she plucked a book from the shelf and began to flip through the pages. After a moment, she set the book down on the table, where everyone could see it. "<<print $player_name>>, you and your team need to journey from Tiara to Rivers," she said, her tone commanding. "From there, you will find a witch who is a close friend of mine. She can better tell you how to use your abilities to their full potential, and you can even ask about the mark on Variel's chest." Clara's voice cut through the air, her eyes blazing with determination. "I want to come!" she declared, her voice filled with confidence. Richard opened his mouth to object, but before he could say anything, Isobel spoke up. "You will!" she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument. Richard's mouth dropped open in disbelief, but he didn't object. Instead, he waited for an explanation from his wife, sensing that there was a reason for her decision. "Clara needs to grow and develop herself," Isobel explained. "Yes, there are risks involved, but that's why the five of them will go on this journey. Besides, Clara needs to be a strong leader to lead our kingdom. This journey will serve as a crucible, forging her into the leader we need." Richard nodded his head, his expression concerned. "Very well," he conceded, his voice softening. "But be careful, my pearl-drop," he added, the love he felt for Clara evident in his words. Isobel's piercing gaze locked onto yours, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and determination. "Your journey will take at least three days," she said gravely, her voice heavy with warning. "Beware of the dangers that await you. That part of the road is the fastest way, but it's also where vile creatures of the night are said to roam, and even bandits are rumored to pillage the area. I suggest you talk to your team and rest up. Tomorrow, as the first light of day breaks, you and the five of you will depart on your journey. We will focus on fixing the damage that Claire has done here." Isobel's words hung heavy in the air, stirring up a mix of emotions within you. Fear, anticipation, and a sense of duty all welled up inside you, pushing you to embark on this dangerous journey. The thought of facing unknown dangers sent a shiver down your spine, but you knew that you had to take the risk in order to save your creation. "You have my word that I will fulfill the prophecy!" you say to them as a vow. You stand before Claire, tense with anticipation and curiosity. She walks up to you with a calm demeanor, but you can sense the urgency hidden beneath her façade. "Since you're already here, I think it's time we talk," she says. "You two can use the study for your privacy." Richard points towards the door, and you and Claire move towards it. As the door closes behind you, Claire lets out a deep sigh. "Look, <<print $player_name>>," she says, her tone grave. "As the Chosen One, it's crucial that you know that you'll be leading this team." Your brows furrow, confusion taking hold. "Why me?" you ask, wondering why Claire's trust is placed in you. Claire simply shrugs her shoulders. "It just seems like the right thing to do," she replies. "And I know the rest of the team will follow suit. Besides, I sense something guiding you, something powerful." As she speaks, Claire steps closer to you and takes hold of your hand, clasping it tightly in hers. "You know, it's been a while since I've had any real fun," she says wistfully. "I tried to play the regal role, but I feel like it just doesn't suit me. Still, as a princess, it's my duty to perform it. But I know deep down that I'm meant for something more." Her eyes bore into yours, and you can feel her searching for something in you. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's to come. "I believe in you," you say firmly, meeting her gaze with a determined expression. "You can be whoever you want to be, Claire. You don't have to conform to anyone else's expectations. You can forge your own path and find your own happiness." Claire's eyes widen in surprise, and then a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. "Thank you," she says, her tone softer now. "I needed to hear that." As you chuckle at Clara's admission, she playfully punches your shoulder, causing you to laugh even harder. "The scandalous princess needs some approval from me?" you ask teasingly, unable to resist. "C'mon now, don't be like that!" she responds with a jovial expression, her laughter mimicking yours. But her regal persona quickly takes over once again. "It's a good thing we had this talk. Now, go do the same with the other three!" she commands, opening the door and gesturing for you to follow. You watch as she makes her way over to her parents, deep in discussion about plans and how to address the people who had unexpectedly arrived. Silently, you slip away from their conversation, needing time alone to process your own thoughts. ''//(Claire's POV)//'' Your gaze followed <<print $player_name>> as mc?they left the room, mc?their figure gradually fading from view. Lost in mc?their presence, you were momentarily oblivious to your surroundings. Suddenly, a voice snapped you back to reality, and you turned to see your mother, engrossed in tracing a map with a stylus. "Your drooling, dear!" she teasingly remarked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I am not!" you retorted, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Hastily, you covered your face and wiped your mouth, trying to dispel any evidence of your momentary lapse. Amused by the exchange, your father chimed in, joining the playful banter. "You are drooling!" he declared, slapping his leg with laughter. "Why are you siding with mother, father?" you questioned, feigning offense but unable to suppress a smile. Despite the tragedies your family has endured, there is always an underlying resilience and ability to find moments of lightheartedness. Richard, let out a hearty laugh. "Because, my daughter, Isobel is one terrifying wife!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with warmth and genuine affection. Isobel paused from her map tracing, her gaze shifting from her task to the two of you, a tender smile playing on her lips. "Nevertheless, this is the first time I've seen you drool over someone. It seems that your father and I may be grandparents soon enough!" she remarked, her eyes sparkling with joy. Your mouth hung open in disbelief, your mind struggling to process the implications of her words. "Oh no!" you exclaimed, a mixture of exasperation and surprise coloring your tone. "Don't get any ideas!" you hastily added, attempting to quell any notions of impending grandparenthood. Richard draped his arm around your shoulders, playfully shaking you. "Come on now, Clara, you can't lie to your parents. Besides, I did the same thing when I was courting your mother!" he chuckled, his body jostling against yours in a jovial manner. "Still don't get any ideas!" you let out an exasperated huff, determined to divert the conversation away from the topic of potential grandchildren. "I need to focus on the kingdom, after all," you stated firmly, your voice resonating with conviction. Isobel's sigh resonated in the room, a mixture of resignation and concern. "Clara, my dear, I know you're just putting up this facade of being a proper and ethical lady, whether it's to impress others or simply practice for your ascension. But it's clear that you're not truly being yourself, and it breaks our hearts to see our daughter hiding behind a mask," she said, her tone tinged with sadness. Her words struck a chord within you, resonating with a deeper truth that you had been unwilling to confront. Despite your efforts to maintain a poised and regal image, you couldn't deny that it felt like a facade, a role you played rather than an authentic expression of your true self. Isobel's insight cut through the layers of pretense, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed. Isobel continued, her voice laden with wisdom and concern. "Managing a kingdom is a tremendously taxing and exhausting responsibility, my dear. If you try to shoulder that burden all on your own, you will find yourself overwhelmed and isolated. That's why your father and I have been trying to find you a suitable partner, someone who can stand by your side when the time comes and ensure that you won't have to face the challenges alone," she explained, her words carrying the weight of their inevitable mortality. The gravity of Isobel's words settled over the room, casting a somber atmosphere. You couldn't deny the truth in her reasoning. The idea of ruling the kingdom with a trusted companion, someone who understood the weight of your responsibilities and offered unwavering support, held an undeniable appeal. You felt defeated and helpless, snuggled in the comforts of your father's arms. "I don't know!" you said, feeling the weight of the world crashing on your shoulders. The thought of finding a partner seemed daunting and impossible, and you couldn't shake off the feeling of uncertainty and fear. Richard held you tightly, his embrace providing a sense of security and warmth. "Clara, my dear, we're not pressuring you to pursue a romantic relationship with <<print $player_name>> or anyone else for that matter. We just want you to open your heart and consider the possibility. Who knows, perhaps the two of you will find a connection, a bond that goes beyond mere friendship," he suggested gently, his voice filled with fatherly wisdom. As he spoke, you felt a tiny spark of hope ignite in your heart. The idea of finding someone who could understand you and accept you for who you truly were was alluring, but at the same time, you couldn't help but feel hesitant. Then, Isobel walked around the table and approached the two of you, her arms outstretched, embracing you both in a tender, heartfelt hug. The warmth of her touch and the strength of her embrace conveyed a love that transcended any doubts or disagreements. "We love you, dear," she whispered, her voice filled with unconditional love and unwavering support. "Despite your mischievous antics and rebellious nature, you hold a special place in our hearts, and we will always be there for you," she assured you, her words carrying the weight of a parent's enduring love. Walking the same corridor that led you to the heart-wrenching scene, you notice that the place is almost cleaned up. Gone are the frantic nurses and the wounded patients, replaced only by a handful of servants busily scrubbing at stubborn bloodstains and dusting the broken stones and splintered wood. The emptiness of the space seems to echo with the pain and violence that took place here, making your heart heavy with sorrow. You felt the warmth of her embrace, and tears streamed down your face. For a moment, you forgot about the pressure to be perfect and the weight of expectations. All that mattered was the love that surrounded you, the love that felt like a warm blanket on a cold winter night. "I love you guys too," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, but it was enough. You felt the love and support of your parents, and it gave you the strength to face whatever lay ahead. The three of you held each other tightly, a tangible expression of the unbreakable bond shared by a family. ''//(MC's POV)//'' Turning the corner, you hesitate, unsure of who to visit next. [[Variel|Variel Pep Talk]] [[Lucain|Lucian Pep Talk]] [[Lucas|Lucas Pep Talk]]

With a heavy heart, you retraced your steps back to the wretched scene that had shattered your spirit, each step feeling like a stab to your already wounded heart. Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you focused your thoughts on one person—Lucian. Something terrible had befallen him, and you couldn't bear the thought of his weakened and frail state when he crumbled earlier. Seeking answers, you approached some servants and inquired about Lucian's whereabouts. They informed you that he was resting in his quarters, which prompted you to request directions to his room. Determined, you pressed forward, navigating the corridors until you finally arrived at your destination. With trembling hands, you raised them to the door and knocked softly, hoping for a response. "Who is it?" came Lucian's voice from within, his words accompanied by a terrible cough. "It's me, MC," you called out, your voice betraying both concern and urgency. "Come in, Author," Lucian replied, his tone somewhat cheerful despite the evident strain. Opening the door slowly, your heart sank at the sight before you. Lucian lay upon the bed, a damp towel resting upon his forehead as sweat trickled down his pallid face. Worry etched deep lines upon your brow as you rushed to his side, your every instinct urging you to provide comfort and care. "What happened?" you asked, your voice laden with genuine concern, as you gently touched Lucian's forehead, feeling the heat radiating from his body. Lucian's weak voice struggled to respond, each word punctuated by a cough that wracked his frail frame. "I... I don't know," he managed to utter, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "I... I just... I suddenly felt weak... and the pain..." he trailed off, his eyes betraying the anguish he sought to hide. Your heart clenched with a mixture of helplessness and determination. You knew you had to find answers and seek help for Lucian, but in that moment, all you could focus on was his well-being. Gently, you brushed his sweat-soaked hair away from his forehead, your touch conveying a tenderness and affection that words could not express. "Don't worry, Lucian," you whispered softly, your voice filled with unwavering support. "I'm here now, and we'll figure this out together. I won't let anything happen to you." A weak smile graced Lucian's lips as he mustered the strength to break the news to you. "I'm not a God anymore," he revealed, his voice trembling with a mix of acceptance and uncertainty. Confusion etched across your face as you tried to comprehend the weight of his words. "What do you mean?" you asked, taken aback by the unexpected revelation. Lucian coughed, his body wracked with the exertion. "I felt my connection to my powers waver at first, and then it was completely severed," he explained, his voice strained. "There are still traces of it lingering within me, suggesting that I may have become a demi-god, but... I'm not certain." The implications of his statement hung in the air, leaving you with a sense of disbelief. How could this have happened? Why would the Gods choose to strip Lucian of his divine heritage? Lucian raised a weak finger, pointing towards the ceiling. "Perhaps the Gods themselves had a hand in it," he offered, his voice filled with a mixture of uncertainty and resignation. "Why would they do such a thing to their own?" you questioned, struggling to comprehend the motives behind such a drastic action. "It could be a lesson," Lucian pondered, his gaze filled with a mixture of introspection and confusion. "A lesson for me to learn, to find my own path and purpose without relying solely on my divine abilities. But regardless of the reason, I feel compelled to apologize." Surprised by his apology, you furrowed your brow. "Apologize? For what?" you inquired, genuinely curious. A heavy sigh escaped Lucian's lips as he mustered his strength to articulate his self-perceived shortcomings. "For being a deadweight," he confessed, his voice laced with self-deprecation. "All this time, I've been a coward and a useless being, not helping and always hiding on the side lines!" The casual remark that escaped your lips momentarily took Lucian aback, and you saw the hurt flicker in his eyes. However, your intentions were not to belittle him but to challenge him to rise above his current state. "That's true," you acknowledged, your tone casual yet purposeful. "The question is, will you allow yourself to be defined by your perceived shortcomings, or will you rise from it and become a better man?" Lucian's gaze locked with yours, a fire ignited within his eyes, fueled by a newfound determination. "I will, Author," he declared, his voice resonating with newfound confidence and a renewed sense of purpose. "I will rise from this, and I will prove it to you and to myself." A fond smile graced your lips as you gazed at Lucian, filled with belief and unwavering support. "I believe in you, Lucian," you encouraged him, your voice carrying a genuine warmth that mirrored the affection you felt for your friend. Lucian's eyes sparkled with gratitude, a glimmer of hope shining through his weary expression. "Thank you, Author," he replied, his voice laced with sincerity. A sudden fit of coughing seized Lucian, disrupting the momentary respite from his physical ailment. You couldn't help but chuckle softly, attempting to infuse the situation with a hint of lightheartedness. "Seems like you're adjusting to your new state rather nicely," you remarked, aiming to alleviate the tension that lingered in the room. Lucian let out a weak chuckle, appreciating your effort to lighten the mood despite the circumstances. "I suppose so," he replied, his voice carrying a glimmer of enthusiasm despite his weakened state. Aware of the importance of rest for his recovery, you decided it was time to take your leave. "I'll leave you to get the rest you need," you stated, your tone gentle and considerate. Lucian nodded in agreement, understanding the necessity of allowing his body to heal. Breathing through his mouth to ease the discomfort, you made your way towards the door, steps slow and deliberate. With a final glance filled with warmth and unwavering support, closed the door behind you, creating a barrier that offered him the solace he needed. ''//(Lucian's POV)//'' As the door closed, enveloping you in solitude, a deep sigh escaped your lips. Gazing down at your open hands, you couldn't help but notice a subtle waning of your once-mighty powers. The energy that had coursed through your being, granting you divine abilities, now dissipated slowly, slipping away from your grasp. Yet, an undeniable smile graced your face, a mix of relief and curiosity dancing in your eyes. Throughout your existence as a deity, you had always wondered what it would feel like to be a mortal, bound by the laws of nature and stripped of godly privileges. And now, unexpectedly, that elusive experience had found its way to you. While others might mourn the loss of such immense power, you couldn't deny a sense of exhilaration coursing through your veins. True, you had rarely utilized your divine abilities since joining MC on their journey. But this time would be different. This time, you vowed to embark on a new path of growth and transformation. The trust and expectations that MC had placed upon you weighed heavily on your conscience, fueling your determination to prove yourself worthy. A warrior's spirit ignited within you, a burning desire to train relentlessly and unlock your true potential. The promise you made to <<print $player_name>> echoed in your mind, spurring you forward. You would show mc?them that you were capable of growth and improvement, that mc?their trust in you was not misplaced. With a newfound purpose, you set your sights on the challenges that lay ahead. The journey to becoming a warrior would not be easy, but you were ready to embrace the hardships and setbacks that awaited. It was time to shed the cloak of passivity and rise to the occasion. [[Continue|End of 4]]

As you made your way through the corridors of the castle, the weight of determination settled upon your shoulders. Lucas's earlier outburst had revealed a side of him that you had never witnessed before—a tempestuous rage that surged forth, uncontrolled and unchecked. It was as if the Gods themselves had bestowed upon him a hidden arsenal of inner demons, concealed beneath his cautious and guarded demeanor. With unwavering resolve, you sought out the knights, determined to uncover Lucas's whereabouts. Each inquiry brought forth a sea of inconsistent answers, leaving you grasping for a thread of truth amidst the chaos of information. But amidst the confusion, there was one response that stood out—an answer that seemed to resonate with the others, like a steady beacon guiding you through the labyrinthine halls. Following this newfound lead, you traversed the winding corridors, your footsteps echoing against the cold stone walls. The distant sound of voices grew louder, gradually morphing into an intense argument that pierced the air. The cadence of Lucas's voice reverberated with raw emotion, his words carrying the weight of his anger and frustration, punctuated by colorful curses that painted the scene with fiery intensity. Opposing him was Lee, his voice a stark contrast to Lucas's tempestuous outpouring. It was a voice of calm and composure, tinged with a touch of pleading, as if desperately seeking to soothe the turbulent storm brewing within Lucas's soul. The clash of their words echoed through the corridor, creating an atmosphere fraught with tension and vulnerability. You pause for a moment, debating whether to interrupt. But as the argument escalates, you realize that you can't just stand there and do nothing. Steeling yourself, you move closer, trying to get a better view of the situation. Lucas is pacing back and forth, his face twisted in anger and frustration. His hands are balled into fists, and you can see the muscles in his arms tense with every movement. The other man, Lee, is standing off to the side, his expression calm and collected. "You don't understand, Lee," Lucas growls. "I have to do this. I can't just sit back and watch as everything falls apart." "Lucas, please," Lee replies, his voice soft and imploring. "Think about the consequences of your actions. You're putting yourself and everyone else in danger." Lucas stops pacing and steps towards Lee, his eyes flashing with rage. "I'll do whatever it takes to protect my family, Claire will pay, even if it means sacrificing everything else. I won't let anyone stand in my way." You watch in horror as Lucas takes a step towards Lee, his fists still clenched. You know that you have to intervene before things get out of hand. Taking a deep breath, you step forward, your voice firm and commanding. "Lucas," you say, trying to get his attention. "Stop. We need to talk about this before you do something you'll regret." Their heads snapped at you and you even see Lee breath a sigh of relief and nodding at your direction. "I give you two some privacy I will be at the corner if the of you are done talking!"Lee says patting Lucas shoulder before departing. As you approached Lucas, concern etched deeply into your features, his transformation struck you with a sense of dread. This was not the Lucas you once knew—a quiet and purposeful young man. Instead, he exuded an aura of darkness and malice, a chilling presence that even surpassed Variel in its terrifying intensity. You mustered the courage to speak, your voice laced with genuine concern. "Lucas, what have you become?" you asked, your words trembling with both fear and a desperate longing to understand. The transformation before you was nothing short of horrifying, as if he had become a twisted reflection of the dragoness herself. Lucas responded with a dark, sardonic laugh, his eyes glinting with an unsettling malevolence. "Not expecting this, I assume?" he retorted, his voice dripping with a twisted satisfaction born of newfound power. You met his gaze, determination shining in your eyes as you sought to break through the veil of darkness that had engulfed him. "Yes, before you were quiet and had a purpose," you began, your voice trailing off momentarily as you struggled to find the right words to express the depth of your concern. "But now, you..." you faltered, unable to fully articulate the magnitude of the change that had consumed him. Lucas cut you off, his words slicing through the air with a snarl of disdain. "I still have a purpose," he sneered, his voice laced with venomous intent. "And that purpose is to ensure Claire's death by my own hand!" Shock washed over you, rendering you momentarily speechless. The implications of his words weighed heavily on your heart, threatening to shatter the fragile hope that remained. Gathering your resolve, you pointed an accusatory finger at him, your voice growing increasingly frantic. "What happened to the Lucas who made a solemn vow to protect the Kingdom and its inhabitants?" you demanded, your voice trembling with a mixture of desperation and disbelief. Lucas's anger simmered beneath the surface, his frustration boiling over as he punched the nearby wall in a fit of rage. "What have those people ever done for me?" he seethed, his voice trembling with bitterness and resentment. "Did they lift a finger to help my father when he was under attack?" His glare bore into you, each word laced with a scathing indictment. "Noooooo... They hid behind us, cowering like pigs. And my vow?" He strode towards you, his imposing figure towering over you with an intimidating presence. "Don't make me laugh! It was nothing more than empty words I uttered before I became the Protector," he spat, his voice dripping with disdain. You feel the weight of his words, like a physical blow. It's as if you're seeing him for the first time, a monster hiding beneath the facade of a hero. But there's a part of you that refuses to believe it, that wants to find the Lucas you used to know and bring him back. Your voice trembles as you confront Lucas, desperation seeping into every word. "Do you really believe that?" you inquire, your voice barely audible above a whisper, as if afraid of the answer. Lucas's eyes narrow, his expression a mask of bitter cynicism. "Believe what? That the people of this kingdom are worth fighting for? That they deserve my unwavering protection?" He scoffs, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "They're all just insignificant to me now! It is my father who constantly reminds me of my duty, even as I witness his pain and suffering." Lucas's body trembles with pent-up frustration, his emotions spiraling out of control. Leaning closer, Lucas invades your personal space, his presence suffocating as his dark aura engulfs you. His voice drips with a warning, laced with a dangerous edge. "Don't you dare speak to me of morality or attempt to make me see the good within me," he growls, his words filled with a seething intensity. "I will have Claire's life, with or without your consent. The question is, will you stand in my way and become my enemy?" You stand your ground, refusing to waver in the face of Lucas's menacing presence. A fire ignites within you, fueled by a deep conviction that you can make Lucas see the error of his ways, whether through words or actions. "Yes! I will stop you," you declare, your voice brimming with unwavering determination. Lucas's grin widens, a mix of amusement and curiosity dancing in his eyes. "Ah, the resilience that never fails to surprise me," he remarks, his voice a low murmur as he leans closer to your ear. "But let me enlighten you about my past. Before I became the Royal Protector, I was known as the Berserker. And soon enough, you will witness firsthand how I earned that name," he adds, his tone sending shivers down your spine. There is a chilling intensity in his words, a warning of the darkness that lurks within him. In that moment, Lucas's words strike you like a cold gust of wind, an icy reminder of the lengths he is willing to go to exact his vengeance. His lack of empathy and disregard for your well-being sends a chill down your spine. But you refuse to be intimidated. "I won't let you become like Claire, Lucas," you assert, your voice steady despite the underlying fear. Lucas takes a step back, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Ah, the hero complex. How noble of you," he mocks, his words dripping with sarcasm. "But don't be so cocky, <<print $player_name>>. Even though you are the Chosen One, I won't blindly follow your lead. Our goals may align for now, but once we reach Claire, do not blame me for the consequences," he warns, his voice devoid of remorse or compassion. As Lucas begins to walk past you, a part of you yearns to reach out, to pull him back from the edge of darkness. "I will stop you, Lucas," you assert, your voice carrying the weight of a promise, of a belief in the redemptive power of love and friendship. Lucas's laughter rings through the air, a haunting melody that resonates with the uncertainty of the path ahead. "Challenge accepted," he retorts wittily, leaving you with a mix of determination and trepidation. ''//(Lucas's POV)//'' You stride away from <<print $player_name>>'s presence, a profound hatred brewing within you. mc?Their audacity to claim they will save you, to make you see the error of your ways, infuriates you to the core. mc?They can try, but you won't make it easy for them. The name "Berserker" sends shivers down your spine, awakening a primal surge of adrenaline that courses through your veins. The mere mention of that name ignites a fire within you, fueling your desire to destroy your opponents and revel in the satisfaction it brings. But everything changed when Garett entered your life and adopted you as his own. His love and guidance kept the beast within you in check, reminding you of your humanity. Now, with him gone, the leash that restrained the beast has been severed, and the desire for retribution consumes you. You can feel it, clawing at the walls of your mind, begging to be let loose. "Lucas!" Lee's voice pierces through your thoughts, drawing your attention. Ah, Lee, your friend and surrogate father figure, always watching out for you when Garett was preoccupied. "How did your talk with <<print $player_name>> go?" he asks, his voice filled with hope that you find both endearing and infuriating. You can't help but relish the thought of crushing that hope in the palm of your hand. Crossing your arms, you wear a sly grin. "Oh, we had a little chat, and mc?they attempted to change me, but mc?their feeble efforts fell miserably short," you scoff, reveling in the futility of their attempts. Lee's eyes falter, his entire demeanor deflating. "I see," he murmurs, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Lucas, please, turn away from this path of ruination," he pleads, his eyes searching yours for a glimmer of the person you once were. Your patience wears thin, and you cut him off sharply. "Stop!" you snap, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and determination. "I know what I'm doing, and I understand your intentions are pure. All I want is to make Claire pay for the pain she inflicted upon our family," you reason, your words a desperate plea for understanding. Deep down, you yearn for redemption and the chance to reclaim the person you once were, but for now, revenge is your driving force. ''//The words feel like a lie, even to you. But you know that you have to do this, for Garett, for your family. And if killing Claire is what it takes to make things right again, then so be it.//'' Tears well up in Lee's eyes, his emotions spilling over as he stands on the verge of crying. The sight pierces through your hardened exterior, momentarily faltering your resolve. You realize that inflicting pain on those who have harmed your family may be justified in your mind, but when it comes to you hurting those who care for you, it's an entirely different story. "I promise, Lee," you say, your voice filled with sincerity and a hint of desperation. Lee's tears flow freely now, his voice shaky with doubt. "Can you really keep that promise?" he asks, his words laced with uncertainty. "Can you truly be the same Lucas that Garett and I knew and loved?" The mention of your father stirs something within you, igniting a fire of anger that threatens to consume you. Without thinking, you charge at Lee, pinning him against the wall, your grip tightening on his clothes. "Don't... Just don't!" you warn him through gritted teeth, your eyes blazing with intensity. "What do you know about the pain I feel?" It's your turn to question, your voice seething with frustration. "What do you know about the deep respect and gratitude I hold for Garett, for saving me from the degenerate I once was?" The questions hang heavy in the air, each word punctuated by the strength of your grip on Lee. But before you can continue, Lee raises his hand and slams it against yours, breaking free from your grasp, and then forcefully shoving you against the wall. "Because I was like you once, Lucas!" he screams, his voice raw with emotion. "My mother died too, and I have walked the same path you're treading now!" His words hit you like a hammer, penetrating the armor of your anger and filling you with sorrow. In that moment, you see the pain etched on his face, the weight of his own past burdens, and the understanding he carries within his heart. The weight of Lee's words hangs heavy in the air, his voice filled with a mixture of resignation and concern. He knows all too well the dangers of succumbing to darkness, having experienced it firsthand. "Garett saved me too, and I owe my life to him," Lee reasons, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency. "But this path you're on, it's not what he would have wanted for you. Once you get a taste of revenge, it's incredibly hard to turn back. I know because I still feel it coursing through my veins, waiting for an opportunity to break free," Lee admits, his tone grave and somber. Releasing his grip on you, Lee steps back, a mixture of exhaustion and disappointment etched across his face. "Your mind is made up, I can see that," he acknowledges. You stand tall, your resolve unyielding. "Yes, it is," you assert firmly, your voice laced with determination. Lee lets out a sigh, a weak chuckle escaping his lips. "You've always been stubborn," he remarks. "Know that, Lucas, no matter the path you choose, I will continue to support and love you. But can you truly bring yourself to kill Claire? Can you bring harm to your childhood friend?" Lee poses the question that has been lingering in the back of your mind, a question you've been avoiding. Straightening your posture, your eyes ignite once more, your hands trembling slightly. "The day Claire hurt my father is the day she became my enemy," you declare, your voice filled with a chilling intensity. Raising your hand and clenching it into a tight fist before Lee, you make your intentions clear. "Mark my words, she will die, and the next time we meet, I will present you with her head on a pike," you assert, your arm casting the gesture to the side with a fierce determination. Lee's expression becomes mournful as he remarks, "I wish Garett were here to talk some sense into you." In a moment of anger, you snap back at Lee, your nostrils flaring with pent-up frustration. "He's not here, and he's not so alive!" you retort, the bitterness seeping into your words. Lucas is taken aback by your response, his eyes widening in surprise. "What are you talking about? He just lost consciousness," he begins, but you cut him off abruptly. "What assurance do you have that his eyes will open again?" you question sharply, your voice cutting through the air like a blade. Lee's mouth opens and shuts, a hint of disbelief evident on his face, before he gathers himself and responds. "I'm hoping, Lucas, and you should do the same. Hope that your father, my husband, is alive and will open his damn eyes to prove you wrong," he says, his voice filled with unwavering faith. Lee turns his back on you, a somber resignation evident in his every step. Sensing that no amount of words or persuasion will deter you from your chosen path, he states his intention to be by Garett's side and promises to try and visit him later. The weight of his departure hangs in the air, leaving you with a mix of regret and understanding. "Lee, wait!" you shout after him, your voice filled with a desperate plea, but you find yourself rooted to the spot, unable to chase after him. "I'm just... I'm tired," you confess, your voice tinged with exhaustion and pain. "Tired of seeing the people I care about being hurt and taken away from me while those responsible roam free," you say, the memory of your biological parents' deaths resurfacing in your mind. Lee doesn't turn around to face you, his body language indicating a deep disappointment. "Is that truly your reason, Lucas? Or are you just saying that to justify taking Claire's life?" he challenges, his voice laced with doubt and concern. With those final words, he continues moving forward, leaving you alone with your tumultuous thoughts. Lee's words echo relentlessly within your mind, casting doubt upon your motivations. Are you truly doing this for your family, or are you using them as an excuse to satisfy your own desires? The question gnaws at you, threatening to unravel your resolve. However, you refuse to succumb entirely to the beast that lurks within you. With a resolute shout, you reject the notion that you are driven solely by darkness. "NO!" you cry out, your voice filled with a fervent determination. You refuse to let yourself be consumed by the shadows that threaten to envelop your soul. You convince yourself that once Claire is dealt with, once justice is served, you will reclaim your role as the Royal Protector, with nothing less and nothing more. This time, you vow to yourself, you will make sure of it. [[Continue|End of 4]]

It was a heavy day for you as you made your way to Variel's room, your mind focused on one thing and one thing only – to offer comfort to the dragon who had just witnessed something no living should ever have to see. The image of her parents' souls stripped away from her being and trapped in a jar was burned into your mind, leaving you feeling angry and helpless. The nurses you encountered on your way seemed too busy to notice you at first, making you all the more irritated. But finally, one of them took notice and, with a grateful nod, guided you to Variel's room. With a deep breath, you knocked softly on the door, calling Variel's name outside. But there was no reply. "Variel?" you call once more, but still, there's no response. You pause for a moment, unsure of what to do, before declaring, "I'm coming in!" Slowly, you push open the door, hoping that Variel will not lash out at you in anger. As the door creaks open, you see Variel sitting on the bed, her knees pulled close to her chest, and her head buried in her shoulders. Her eyes are fixed on the wall, and she doesn't move as you enter. "Are you alright?" you ask, your heart aching with concern. Variel's voice is monotone, devoid of any emotion. "I'm not," she says in a quick response, surprisingly direct and not going around the subject. "Can we talk?" you ask softly, grabbing a nearby chair and settling it in front of her. Variel nods slowly, her voice still emotionless. "Sure," she says, her voice almost robotic. As you sit, you can't help but feel conflicted. On the one hand, you're relieved that Variel is responsive and not hurting you like she has in the past. On the other hand, seeing her like this tears at your heartstrings, knowing the deep pain and trauma she's experiencing. The feeling that Variel has hurt you emotionally and physically in the past makes the sight of her like this all the more difficult to bear, and you can't help the tears that begin to prick at the corner of your eyes. A single tear hovered on the verge of spilling over onto your cheek, a telltale sign of the inner turmoil that had consumed you. Variel's gaze was fixed on your face, filled with equal parts confusion and concern. You couldn't bear to let her witness your vulnerability, so you hastily wiped away the traitorous tear with a trembling hand. Variel's voice was a gentle whisper, laced with genuine worry. "What's wrong?" she asked, her eyes never leaving yours. Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself for the upcoming confession. "You," you said simply, but the weight of your words hung heavily in the air. Variel's posture straightened, her eyes scrutinizing your face for any deeper meaning. There was a hint of trepidation in her voice as she probed further. "Me?" With unrelenting determination, you placed a hand over her heart, willing her to understand. "No, Variel, there's nothing wrong with me. But there is something wrong with you. This isn't who you truly are." Variel's doubts were plain to see, despite her attempts to hide them behind a facade of indifference. Beneath the surface, a flicker of vulnerability could be detected, and you refused to let her retreat back into her old patterns of denial. "You're not like this," you asserted, your voice brimming with conviction. "I know there's something eating away at you, something that's causing you to act differently. And I want you to know that you can trust me. You don't have to face this alone." Variel's eyes met yours, and what was once a wall of defiance crumbled in an instant. Tears spilled unchecked down her cheeks, her heart open and raw. "I'm hurting," she whispered, the words choked out through sobs. "I don't know how to deal with it." You pulled her into a tight embrace, your own eyes stinging with tears. "It's okay," you murmured, your voice a soothing balm. "I'm here for you, and I always will be. We'll get through this together." Variel continued to sob, her body wracked with trembles as you rubbed her back in soothing circles. It was as if a dam had burst inside her, and every emotion she had been repressing was now flooding out. "My parents," she managed to choke out between sobs, "they took away a part of me. A part that made me whole and strong." Your heart ached for Variel as you listened to her pain spill out in raw, unfiltered emotion. You could feel her anguish reverberating through every fiber of your being, and you knew that words alone wouldn't be enough to heal her. Instead, you held her tightly, anchoring her to the present moment. Every whisper of wind, every rustle of leaves, every breath she took - all of it was a reminder that she was here, alive, and deserving of love. Variel's tear-streaked face turned towards you, her eyes searching for solace amidst the storm that raged within her. You continued to rub her back, your touch a steady source of comfort as you offered her a lifeline in the depths of her despair. "You have a resilience that is boundless," you said, your voice infused with unwavering belief. "Yes, they may have taken a part of you, but they can never extinguish the essence of who you are. Your strength, your spirit—it resides within you, Variel, untouchable and unbreakable." As if sensing your unspoken support, Variel's sobs gradually began to subside. She pulled away from your embrace, wiping away the tears that still lingered on her cheeks. "Thank you," she said softly, her voice raspy but filled with gratitude. "I don't know what I'd do without you." You smiled gently at her, letting your gaze linger on her face for a moment longer. "You don't have to do anything alone," you reminded her. "I'll always be here for you and your littlemouse forever!" you say to her. Variel's crimson eyes seems to flicker and dance like a flame and then she chuckle which makes your heart swell with joy. "You seem to love that nickname very much!" she says to you. As Variel's chuckles filled the room, a warmth spread through your chest, lighting up your own smile. Her laughter was like a balm to your soul, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still room for joy and connection. "You seem to love that nickname very much!" Variel observed, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. A soft blush tinted your cheeks as you scratched the back of your head, feeling slightly bashful. "It kinda rubbed off on me," you admitted, your voice filled with sincerity. The nickname had become more than just a playful moniker; it held a deeper significance, a connection between the two of you that defied the boundaries of their troubled world. A mischievous smile played on Variel's lips as she considered your words. "Then maybe I will call you <<print $player_name>> from now on," she declared, her voice laced with a hint of playfulness. A sudden panic gripped your heart, and you quickly shook your head, your eyes pleading with her. "No, please use the nickname," you pleaded, your voice tinged with desperation. The thought of losing the endearing term, of losing that special connection between you, was unbearable. Variel's gaze softened as she regarded you, her crimson eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and understanding. She reached out and gently took your hand in hers, the touch electrifying, as if an unspoken bond had formed between you. "Alright, littlemouse," she whispered, her voice filled with tenderness. "For you, I will keep using the nickname. It's become a part of us, hasn't it?" A surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins as Variel's grip tightened around your hand, her strength reminding you of the power she possessed even in her weakened state. The pain intensified with each twist and turn. "Do I even want to call you Little Mouse?" Variel's voice dripped with malice as she eyed you warily, reveling in her newfound strength. You winced, gritting your teeth against the searing pain that shot through your hand. Yet, despite the agony, a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. It was a bittersweet reminder of the familiar dynamic that had once defined your relationship. "There you go! You're slowly getting back to your old self!" you exclaimed, your voice laced with a mixture of admiration and longing. You followed Variel's lead, contorting your hand in response to the pressure, navigating the delicate dance between pain and trust. A wicked grin spread across Variel's face, an echo of the mischief that had once characterized her spirit. "I don't know... I think I need to break your heart to really see if I'm back," she taunted, her voice dripping with menace. Your mind raced, desperately searching for a solution to the predicament you found yourself in. The intensity of Variel's words heightened the thrill and danger of the moment. It was a dangerous game, testing the boundaries of trust and understanding, pushing the limits of both your physical and emotional resilience. And then, an audacious idea flickered in your mind—a scene from movies and stories you had seen and read. It was a risk, but in that moment, you were willing to gamble everything to reconnect with the Variel you once knew. A surge of reckless bravery overtook you, and the words spilled from your lips before you could fully comprehend their impact. "Harder, Mommy!" you gasped, the audacity of the statement hanging in the air like a charged current. Variel's grip faltered, her eyes widening in confusion and caution. The words had hit her like a bolt of lightning, catching her off guard and disrupting the vicious cycle of pain. She released your hand as if it were searing hot, a mixture of disbelief and curiosity flickering in her crimson eyes. "What?" Variel whispered, her voice laced with uncertainty, her guard momentarily lowered. You took advantage of the momentary pause, rubbing your hand gently to soothe the residual ache. "What?" you repeated, drawing upon the courage and audacity that had propelled you to utter those unexpected words. The pain in your wrist had slowly started to ebb away, but the tension in the room remained palpable. Variel had backed away from you, her eyes darting around the room as if trying to find some kind of escape route. You couldn't help but feel a sense of irritation wash over you as you shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. "What?" you asked, your voice sounding more annoyed than anything else. "I was just kidding around. Why are you acting like I'm a weirdo?" But Variel didn't buy it. She pressed her back up against the wall, her eyes narrowed as she tried to hold you at bay. "You can go now," she said, her voice low and hesitant. You tried reaching out to her again, your hand hovering in mid-air as you tried to make amends. "Listen, I didn't mean to-" But Variel cut you off before you could finish. "Please," she muttered, her voice cracking with emotion. It wasn't a threat; it was a plea. You sighed heavily, realizing that your attempt to break through her shell had backfired, you hung your head in defeat, your heart heavy with disappointment and self-reproach. You had pushed her too far, and now you were back to square one - dealing with a scared dragon once again. Making your way towards the door. As you opened it, a sudden rush of emotions flooded through you - disappointment, anger, and a strange sense of satisfaction. You had made a small victory, but at what cost? Turning back to Variel one last time, you said, "This was...fun. I hope we can do it again sometime." Without waiting for a response, you closed the door behind you, the sound echoing throughout the empty hallway. Variel was left alone in the room once more, her knees drawn up to her chest, her gaze fixed on the wall. Despite the pain of rejection, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. You had pushed her boundaries, and though you had failed this time, you knew that you would try again. In the end, you knew that you would do whatever it takes to break through her shell and reach the real Variel hiding beneath. It may take time, it may take patience, but you were willing to wait - because you knew that the rewards would be worth it. ''//(Variel's POV)//'' As the weight of the situation pressed upon your shoulders, you found solace in a familiar ritual—a comfort that transcended time and space. Curling up into a protective ball, your knees drawn to your chest, you retreated into the sanctuary of your own body. It was a reflex honed from childhood, an instinctive response when the world became too overwhelming. In the recesses of your mind, memories of your mother enveloped you like a warm embrace. The image of her in her true form, a magnificent dragon, would flicker before your eyes. The way she would slither gracefully towards you, her sinuous tail coiling around your form, drawing you closer to her. It was a gesture of tenderness and protection, a reminder that you were never alone in the face of adversity. Though her draconic exterior was awe-inspiring, it was in her eyes that you found a glimpse of her humanity. Imagining her with the ability to shift into a human form, you envisioned a serene countenance—an embodiment of compassion and understanding. In this imagined form, her hair cascaded like a waterfall, a shimmering blue that mirrored the depths of the ocean. Her eyes, the color of sapphires, radiated a sense of calmness and assurance, a reflection of her unwavering love for you. In stark contrast to your mother's affinity for her draconic form, your father often chose to remain in his human guise. It was a deliberate choice, a testament to his belief in the capacity of humans to love and care for other living beings. His vibrant, short red hair served as a testament to his fiery spirit, while his eyes, a captivating shade of crimson, held a twinkle of mischief and warmth. His smile, a beguiling curve that could melt steel and put even the most apprehensive hearts at ease, exuded a genuine kindness and charisma that was as captivating as it was disarming. But now, in this room devoid of their presence, you found yourself yearning for their touch, their comforting presence. There was no dragon tail coiling around you, no father's strong arms to hold you close. The weight of their absence pressed upon you, leaving you feeling vulnerable and alone. Except they were gone, only memories of a bygone era. You were left with your thoughts and your own company. The weight of your solitude bore down on you, and for a moment, you felt utterly hopeless. However, you remembered something your father had told you once. "Nothing lasts forever," he had said, his voice full of conviction. "Sorrow, pain, and heartbreak - they may be overwhelming, but they are temporary. You will get through them, and you will come out stronger on the other side." His words rang in your mind, giving you a glimmer of hope. You took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and with it, letting go of your sadness and regret. You would get through this, just like your father had said. You would find a way to move forward, As you lay on the soft mattress, your body slowly relaxing, your thoughts drift towards <<print $player_name>>. You can't put your finger on it, but there's something about mc?them that you just can't resist. It's like they love your sadistic streak, reveling in it and even begging you to call mc?them by the nickname you gave them. Despite your father's warnings, you can't help but wonder why <<print $player_name>> keeps coming back for more. Your father's voice echoes in your mind, cautioning you to hide your sadistic nature, lest it be misconstrued as harmful by others. But for you, indulging in the darker aspects of your personality is your way of bonding and showing affection to your close friends. <<print $player_name>> seems to be the only person who understands this. You can't shake the feeling that there's something deeper at play, something that binds you and <<print $player_name>> in a way that defies logic and reason. It's almost as if mc?they can see right through you, to the very depths of your soul. You take a deep breath, mustering the courage to voice your thoughts aloud. "What is it that draws you to me?" You ask, your voice quiet yet resolute. "What do you see in me that others don't?" <<print $player_name>> simply smiles, their eyes glinting with amusement and anticipation. "Oh, I see plenty," they say, their voice low and sultry. "But the best way for you to find out is to show me that side of you again." Your heart races as you imagined that this the exact same how <<print $player_name>> will reply back to you. mc?They seem to know you better than you know yourself, and the way mc?they look at you sends shivers down your spine. As you close your eyes to get some needed rest, your mind drifts off to a feverish dream. In this surreal world, <<print $player_name>> is tied up with ropes, mc?their naked body exposed and vulnerable. You stand over them, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips as you rotate a stick in your hand like MC is a piece of meat, ready to be cooked on an open fire. The flames flicker and dance around <<print $player_name>>'s writhing form, casting shadows across their face. You grip the stick tightly, feeling a surge of power and madness course through your veins. You lean in, your lips grazing their ear as you whisper, "Are you ready for some real pain, my little mouse?" MC lets out a soft moan, mc?their body arching towards you in anticipation. You can feel their need to be dominated, their desire to be at your mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as you realize that this is what they've been craving all along. Without another word, you swing the stick down, the sharp pain of skin hitting wood making both you and <<print $player_name>> gasp. You revel in the feeling of control as you continue to hit mc?their exposed flesh, each blow eliciting a moan of pleasure from MC. The flames around you grow brighter as the sound of skin hitting wood echoes through the air. As you hit them one last time, <<print $player_name>>'s body explodes in a climax, mc?their screams of ecstasy mixing with the crackle of the fire. You feel your own release building up inside you, the power you hold over them fueling your desire to dominate even further. But as you open your eyes, you realize that it was all just a dream, a feverish fantasy that left you both scared and thrilled. You wonder what it means for your relationship with <<print $player_name>>, whether it's just a passing phase or something deeper and more dangerous. As you drift off to sleep, you can't help but wonder what the next day will bring. Will you be able to resist the lure of your darker side, or will you surrender to your desires once again? Only time will tell, but one thing is for sure - <<print $player_name>> will always be the one who draws out the darker, more dangerous parts. [[Continue|End of 4]]

''//(Claire's POV)//'' Claire's eyes fluttered open, her breath catching in her throat as she found herself lying on the cold, damp ground. Confusion and disorientation washed over her as she struggled to regain her senses. Slowly, she pushed herself up, her body aching from the strain of teleportation. With a determined glint in her eyes, she brushed off the dirt and debris from her clothes, refusing to let her weakness show. Her grandmother's phantom approached with concern etched on her visage. "Are you alright, my dear granddaughter?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine worry. Claire nodded, her voice resolute as she replied, "Yes, I can manage." Despite the lingering exhaustion, she stood tall, unwilling to succumb to her physical limitations. Gazing around, Claire took in her surroundings with a mix of awe and trepidation. The sky above was shrouded in dark, brooding clouds, casting an eerie gloom over the landscape. Withered trees twisted like gnarled hands reached towards the heavens, their branches creaking in the haunting wind. And then, her eyes fell upon the multitude of tombstones that dotted the landscape, their weathered surfaces standing as silent sentinels of remembrance. "We're at the graveyard," her grandmother announced, her voice filled with an unexpected sense of delight. Claire couldn't help but be taken aback by her grandmother's peculiar reaction. The graveyard, a place associated with loss, grief, and final farewells, seemed an odd choice for such enthusiasm. Her curiosity piqued, Claire turned her attention back to her grandmother, her eyes searching for answers. Your grandmother's face softened, and a mysterious smile played upon her lips. "Ah, my dear, the graveyard is not only a resting place for the departed. It holds stories, secrets, and a connection to our past. It is a place of both melancholy and celebration, where the spirits of our ancestors guide us on our journey." Her words carried a weight of ancient wisdom, tinged with a touch of whimsy. "Plus, we will be recruiting some help for the upcoming battle due to you making our presence known!" Your grandmother pointed to a particular tombstone with the words carved on the epitaph. The tombstone read: //Here lies Sir Gaius Thorne Loved by many and looked at as a knight who upheld virtues and saved those who need his aid// "Sir Gaius?" you remembered that name; he was the knight that Lucas battled against for the spot of the Royal Protector. Your grandmother glided over to the tombstone, reading the engravings with interest. "He's a knight, huh? Now I feel somewhat guilty disturbing his peace. Then again, I'm just collecting a favor from the Thorne house!" Your grandmother raised her hands in the air and began to chant. Darkness started to swirl around the location of Gaius' tomb, going faster and faster like a vortex, and soon plunging itself on the crypt. At first, everything was still and quiet, and you wondered if anything would happen. Suddenly, the crypt began to rattle violently, and the cover was ejected from the entrance. Then, a figure rose up from the grave, their eyes pure black, short hair the color of white, and their skin sickly pale with veins roaming around. "What is thy bidding, master?" Gaius knelt down in front of you, his head bowed. Your grandmother stepped forward, her eyes glistening with excitement. "Rise, Sir Gaius; you are no longer bound by the constraints of the grave. Your past life may be over, but your duty still calls to you. I need a valiant knight to fight by our side in the upcoming war." Gaius rose to his feet, looking more confident and powerful than before, his eyes glowing with a fierce determination. "I am bound to serve, my lady. What do you require of me?" As you watched the two caretakers approach, their shovels slung lazily over their shoulders, you had no idea what was about to happen. It was clear from their demeanor that they were not expecting to encounter anyone here, and they were taken aback by the sight of your group. They stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening in terror as they spotted your grandmother. "Kill those two!" your grandmother barked, pointing a finger at the hapless strangers. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Was she really asking Gaius to take human lives? Before you could speak up, Gaius was upon the caretakers. He moved with lightning speed, a blur of black as he tore into them. They tried to run, but they were no match for the knight's strength and agility. In a matter of seconds, Gaius ripped them both in half, their lifeless bodies crumpling to the ground. "Why did you do that?" you demanded, unable to contain your anger. Your grandmother laughed, a cold, hard sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Really now? My dear Claire is questioning my actions, and yet just earlier, she massacred people with no remorse or emotion. Maybe I'm just wrong." She sauntered up to you, getting right in your face. "Maybe you like killing people. Maybe you love seeing their blood flow freely. Maybe the satisfaction you feel when your weapon cuts their skin apart, the thrill you feel when they try to fight against you and fail helplessly, and the joy—oh, the joy—you feel when you imagine them crying! Is that it, Claire?" You stammered, not knowing what to say. Was it true? Did you enjoy killing? You didn't think so, but then, why did you feel so exhilarated when you fought earlier? Was there a part of you that craved violence and bloodshed? Claire stood there, her scythe vibrating in her hands. The unmistakable sense of power emanated from it, a feeling that death was near and inescapable. Her grandmother's words echoed in her mind, urging her to embrace her true nature. Was it possible that she actually enjoyed taking lives? "Don't be ashamed of it, Claire," her grandmother spoke softly, yet supportively. "Embrace it!" Claire looked up at her, feeling torn and uncertain. Could she really accept this part of herself? Could she give in to the darkness that always seemed to be nipping at her heels? But then, as if guided by some unseen force, she opened her mouth and spoke the words that felt that she was born to say it and to perform it. "Death comes to all," she said, her voice filled with newfound conviction. Her grandmother's eyes glinted with pride as she twirled joyfully through the air. "That's it, my dear! Now let's go to a place I know and recruit some more allies!" Without a word, she plunged into Claire's body, conjuring up the coordinates of their next destination in her mind. Claire closed her eyes and allowed the images to wash over her—a world of darkness and danger, filled with powerful allies and terrifying foes. "Also, dear daughter," her grandmother spoke once more, calling Gaius over. "Can you chant the words that I'm about to say next?" Gaius obeyed without question, his eyes fixed on the two women before him. Together, they repeated the ancient words that her grandmother had taught them, and the darkness once more manifested itself, surrounding Gaius and filling him with its power. As he emerged, Claire couldn't help but gasp at the transformation. Gaius now wore dark armor, and his hip was adorned with a gleaming sword. "There we go, looking like a dark knight through and through!" her grandmother exclaimed, satisfied with her work. Excitement and anticipation coursed through Claire's veins. She knew that this was only the beginning of a much bigger plan, one that would test her limits and push her to new heights of power. She was ready for it, whatever it may entail. [[Continue|Farewell]]

''//Hello hello, that's for Chapter 4 and I hope you enjoyed the tense atmosphere. You can read the next adventure in Chapter 5: Two Sides Of The Same Coin. Our RO's have changed but the question remains will they changed for the better for the worse? Here's a sneak peak to see what to expect when you see them again. Amidst the enchanting embrace of a mystical forest, Variel, once cloaked in brooding shadows, now moves with a grace that defies earthly bounds. The whisper of wind through the trees seems to serenade her as birds find solace in her radiant presence, nestling within the intricate tresses of her hair. Under the gentle caress of sunlight, her laughter spills forth, a symphony of joy that resonates with the very essence of celestial beings. On the fringes of the forest, where shadows dance in intricate patterns, Lucas sits in profound concentration upon a moss-covered log. His rugged features are marked by the intensity of his focus as he meticulously sharpens his sword and knives. With every deliberate stroke, the blade takes on a newfound gleam, reflecting not only his skilled craftsmanship but also the relentless determination etched in his eyes. The anticipation that flickers within his gaze hints at battles yet to be fought, while the proud curve of his lips speaks of a warrior ready to face any foe. In the heart of the wilderness, Lucian embraces his transformed role with solemn purpose. Each movement is a testament to his unwavering vigilance as he traverses the open expanse, his senses keenly attuned to the slightest disturbance in the air. His steps are measured, his eyes a tapestry of caution and calculation. Like a sentinel on the precipice of danger, he ventures forth, scouting the treacherous path that lies ahead, driven by an unwavering commitment to protect those entrusted to his care. But perhaps the most striking transformation is witnessed in Clara, whose essence radiates an intensity that commands attention. With rapier in hand, she stands tall and resolute, her spine straightened and her gaze unyielding. In every fiber of her being, a relentless seriousness prevails, as if every moment carries the weight of life or death. Her piercing eyes lock onto yours, conveying a fierce determination that brooks no compromise. Can the MC navigate this shifting landscape and find solace amidst the tumultuous waves of transformation? Will they emerge unscathed or be swept away by the torrential currents that threaten to consume them? The stakes are higher than ever, the tension taut as a finely tuned string. Will the team hold it together or will they be broken apart?//'' Also one more thing N will not be telling a story, poor thing been working endless to deliver you their promise so I decided to have them rest for now but don't worry maybe in Chapter 5 they got a story for you Readers till next time. Love you guys. [[Next|Chapter 5]]

''//Chapter 5:Two Sides Of The Same Coin//'' ''//1 Week Later Following The Siege Of Claire On The Kingdom//'' ''//(Sarah's POV)//'' Kneeling in the grand chamber, you find yourself before the King, flanked by his two most trusted advisors. His majestic figure is seated upon the imposing throne, his face concealed momentarily by the parchment scroll you've presented to him. His hands delicately lay the scroll before him, unveiling its contents beneath his watchful gaze. As the parchment falls away, revealing its message, his features shift from contemplation to amusement. The King's lips curl into a smirk, a mixture of regal authority and wry humor dancing in his eyes. This ruler, sovereign over a kingdom of intricacies and political complexities, radiates an aura of power and wisdom. The years of leadership have etched themselves onto him: a brow slightly furrowed with responsibility, eyes sharp as honed blades, a posture that exudes both command and weariness. The contrast between his present demeanor and King Richard's youthfulness is stark, a testament to the toll that the crown can take on a ruler's appearance. Your heart flutters at the realization that you are in the presence of not just a king, but a seasoned ruler who bears the weight of his realm upon his shoulders. //"Sarah, please,"// his voice pierces the air, your name imbued with both familiarity and authority. //"You do not need to kneel before me. A friend of Isobel is a friend of mine."// Tilting your head to meet his gaze, you observe his smirk with a mixture of respect and curiosity. The faint amusement in his eyes does little to soften the firmness of his features. His eyes, like polished steel, hold a shrewd intelligence that has been honed through years of governance. His posture is that of a monarch who has learned to stand unwavering in the face of challenges, his spine ramrod-straight, his shoulders squared, and his forehead creased with the weight of decisions made. //"Nonsense, your Majesty,"// you begin, your words carrying the weight of respect. //"Propriety dictates, and Queen Isobel—"// He cuts you off with a voice that commands attention, his tone carrying the weight of his authority. //"Sarah."// The single syllable of your name falls heavily from his lips. //"I am the ruler of this Kingdom, and I take offense at the idea of having you kneel before me. Besides, Isobel is not present. You may rise now. I can only imagine how cold your kneecaps must be after all that kneeling."// His chuckle rumbles lowly through the air, a moment of levity amidst the formalities. As you rise to your feet, you can't help but feel a sense of relief. The tension dissipates, replaced by a more relaxed atmosphere. The King's voice is warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the sternness of his appearance. His words carry a touch of humor, hinting at a friendship that exists beyond the formalities of court. The room is adorned with opulence and grandeur, with intricate tapestries adorning the walls and chandeliers casting a soft, warm glow. The air is heavy with the scent of polished wood and candle wax, adding to the regal ambiance. The King's advisors, standing stoically by his side, radiate an aura of loyalty and wisdom. "You have come to us on behalf of Queen Isobel," the King begins, his voice filled with curiosity. "Tell me, what aid does she seek from our allied kingdom?" Your head bows respectfully as you present Queen Isobel's request to King Hendrick. The gravity of the situation weighs on you as you address the monarch, the fate of Tiara hanging in the balance. //"Her Grace requested that she may borrow your most elite team in the Kingdom!"// you declare, your voice carrying the weight of the queen's plea. //"Tiara will be in your debt, and its citizens will rest easier knowing that you provide support in these trying times, King Hendrick!"// You glance at the two people standing by the king’s side, his trusted advisors and friends. The man is Leon ''//The Royal Protector//'', a tall and muscular knight with blond hair and amber eyes. He is the mentor of the Assets, and one of the best fighters in the world. He smiles broadly at you, showing his white teeth and dimples. He seems friendly and generous, but also reckless and impulsive. The woman is Leona ''//The Royal Wizard//'', a slender and graceful lady with brown long hair and brown eyes. She is the strategist of the Assets, and one of the smartest minds in the world. She scowls at you, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips. She seems cold and cautious, but also loyal and protective. Hendrick leans in, his elbow finding purchase on the armrest of his grand throne. His fingers trace along his chin, a gesture of contemplation as he processes the gravity of your words. The weight of his responsibility as a ruler is evident in the furrow of his brow, the lines etched onto his face like the map of a kingdom's trials and triumphs. //"Well, what do you say, you two?"// he addresses his trusted advisors. Leon steps forward, his armor clanking as he moves. He grins widely, and says in a loud and cheerful tone: “I say we accept, Your Majesty. I mean, what’s the use of me and my sister if we can’t handle the matters of the kingdom? Besides, we owe Isobel a favor for saving our lives that one time. Remember that, Leona?” His laughter rings out, and he shakes his head with a sense of camaraderie. Leona on the other hand, remains cautious, her features etched with skepticism. A scowl tugs at her lips as she retorts sharply, her eyes narrowing in distrust toward you, she steps forward her dress flowing as she walks. She frowns sharply, and says in a crisp and stern tone: “I advise against this course of action, Your Majesty. It is too risky to send our best warriors away from our own kingdom. We have our own enemies to deal with, not to mention the unrest among the people. Besides, we don’t owe Isobel anything. She saved us because it was convenient for her at the time. Remember that, Leon?” Her words are laced with cynicism, her stance a testament to her wariness. Leon claps his hands, and laughs heartily. “Oh, come on, Leona. Don’t be like that to our friends. They need our help, and we can spare some men for them. Besides, it will be fun to fight alongside them. Remember how we kicked Zane’s ass last time?” Leona's response is curt, a scoff escaping her lips as she crosses her arms. Yet, beneath her exterior, a glimmer of a smirk dances on her lips before vanishing entirely. “You’re too generous for your own good, Leon. And too eager for bloodshed. You don’t think about the consequences of your actions. Remember how we lost half of our men last time?” Hendrick nods sagely, acknowledging the advice that has been presented to him. "Sarah, I accept your terms," he declares, his voice resonating with authority. Relief floods your being, a held breath released. "However," he continues, rising from his seat, his presence expanding to fill the room, "I will only allow three of my most trusted Assets to venture to your kingdom." His tone is unwavering, a statement of his unbending commitment to protecting his own domain. "You understand, of course, that I cannot leave my kingdom undefended." //"Of course, Your Majesty!"// Your words spill forth with genuine respect, a testament to the diplomatic finesse that you've cultivated over time. The mission's success, though not fully accomplished in terms of numbers, is a triumph nonetheless. Your head bows once more, a display of humility and gratitude for a mission well-done. //"I will send word to Queen Isobel at once!"// The tilt of your head conveys your readiness to fulfill the task promptly, your commitment to seeing the mission through. //"Very well!"// King Hendrick's voice, a blend of authority and finality, brings a sense of closure to the conversation. “You may go now. I will arrange for the three Assets to join you as soon as possible. I wish you a safe journey, and a successful mission.” He waves his hand, dismissing you from his presence.With a final nod of acknowledgment, you turn on your heel. Your footsteps echo against the grandeur of the hall as you make your exit, the corridor ahead beckoning you to carry out the next steps of your mission. As you step out into the sunlight filtering through the castle's windows, a sense of purpose fills your chest. ''//Present Day//'' ''//(MC's POV)//'' The days have blurred into one another, leaving you feeling weary and drained. Claire's ruthless siege and havoc on the castle have left an indelible mark on the kingdom, and the aftermath is far from tranquil. The air is heavy with grief, anger, and fear. The once vibrant streets are now haunted by mournful echoes, and the eyes of the citizens betray terror and disbelief. Paranoia looms like a suffocating black mist, and trust among the people has all but evaporated. Where there was once camaraderie, now only silence reigns. Heads are cast down, and eyes avoid meeting one another, as if attracting attention could bring about some malevolent omen. The once lively plaza, where children's laughter danced like a beautiful melody, now stands desolate and barren. Amidst this somber atmosphere, the confidence in the monarchy's ability to rule and protect its subjects has been shaken. The prospect of a looming civil war hovers on the horizon, threatening to tear the kingdom apart from within. Yet, your thoughts are most preoccupied with your friends. The tragedy has transformed them into distant, serious figures, isolating themselves from the rest of the world. Communication is sparse, limited only to essential exchanges. The once radiant sunlight and joyous birdsong fail to capture your attention as your mind continuously returns to the weight of concern for your friends. Fatigue clings to you, like a shadow following your every step. Claire's attack on the castle has left you emotionally and physically drained. With each passing day, you find it harder to find solace in the beauty of the world around you, for the thoughts of your friends consume your consciousness. The streets are a testament to the fear that permeates every corner of the kingdom. Mothers clutch their children tightly to their sides, as if shielding them from an unseen malevolence lurking in the shadows, ready to snatch away their precious loved ones. The eyes of the people dart around anxiously, reflecting the heightened state of alertness in everyone's hearts. In the midst of this turmoil, a storm brews within you. Your emotions swirl like the tempestuous winds, seeking an outlet for the maelstrom of feelings that surge inside. But you remain silent, keeping your own fears hidden beneath a mask of resilience. The castle itself stands as a symbol of both strength and vulnerability, its walls once deemed impenetrable, now breached and marred by the recent attack. Like the kingdom it represents, the fortress has two sides of the same coin – resilience, but also fragility. Your mind drifts of too? [[Lucas|Tranform L]] [[Variel|Transform V]] [[Clara|Transform C]] [[Lucian|Transform Lucian]]

As you traverse the castle hallways, the weight of Lucas' situation weighs heavily on your mind. His father, Garett, lies unconscious on a bed, and the uncertainty of his recovery casts a somber shadow over the kingdom. Lee, ever devoted, tends to Garett with tender care, recounting stories and sharing daily events in the hope of coaxing even the faintest glimmer of life from his unresponsive form. Hope persists among the people, but it is a fragile hope, like a delicate flower struggling to bloom amidst adversity. The doctors' heavy voices resonate through the halls, declaring that Garett's fate now rests solely in his own hands. As your boots echo on the stone floor, you find a fleeting respite in the rhythmic sound, but it also agitates your restlessness. //''Tick... Tock...''// The sound taunts you like the relentless march of time, a constant reminder of life's fragility. You walked on, feeling frustrated and lonely. The sound of your boots echoing on the stone floor persisting, like a heartbeat in your chest. It reminded you of how much time had passed since you last saw Lucas, how much time you had wasted apart from him. ''//Tick…tock…//'' ''You felt like you were running out of time.'' ''//Tick…tock…//'' ''You felt like you were losing him.'' ''//Tick…tock…//'' ''You shook your head, trying to banish the sound from your ears. You couldn’t give up hope. You couldn’t let go of him.'' ''You had to find him.'' ''You had to save him.'' ''From himself.'' ''From her.'' ''From Claire.'' Servants pass by, bowing their heads in respect as they hurry off to fulfill their duties. The guards' presence is intensified, and the King's Vanguard has been mobilized to bolster the patrols. Their gleaming golden armor catches the sunlight, symbolizing their unwavering dedication to protecting the kingdom. Tensions are high, their hands hover near their weapons, their bodies tense with readiness. As you wander through the bustling halls of the castle, you can't help but feel a sense of unease. The guards are on high alert, their eyes scanning every nook and cranny as they patrol the area. Servants rush by, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls as they hustle to and fro. Amidst the chaos, you can't help but feel lost, wondering where exactly Lucas might be in this maze of a castle. That's when you hear it- a voice calling out to you, breaking through the noise of the bustling castle. "Dragon Tamer!" you turned to see who it was and recognized her as one of the king’s vanguard. She was a woman in her thirties, with short brown hair and bright green eyes. She wore a golden armor that shone in the sunlight, adorned with the royal crest and symbols. She carried a sword at her side and a shield on her back. She had a helmet on her head, but she had lifted the visor to reveal her face. "May I help you?" you ask, your voice tired and your shoulders slumped with exhaustion. The woman chuckles, her grip on her weapon loosening as she lightens the mood. "I should be asking you that, Dragon Tamer!" she says, then shakes her head as if realizing something. "Forgive me for my lack of decorum. My name is Fredorica!" she says, bowing her head at you in greeting. You return her greeting with less enthusiasm, still tired and searching for Lucas. "Nice to meet you, Fredorica. I'm <<print $player_name>>." "Well met, <<print $player_name>>!" she says, then stands up straight again. "As for your question, do you need help finding something?" You think for a moment, then nod slowly. "Yes, actually. Do you happen to know where Lucas is? The servants have brought me here, but I seem to have gotten lost." Fredorica shakes her head sympathetically. "Thank goodness, I thought I was the only one," she says, relaxing even more. "Yes, I know where the Royal Protector is currently residing. Follow me, if you please!" As you follow behind her, admiring the way her golden armor glimmers in the light, she starts a small talk to keep the silence at bay. "So, the Royal Protector, huh?" she begins. "Is there a problem?" You feel a defensive edge creeping into your voice. "Is there a problem with that?" Fredorica shakes her head, laughing softly as she glances over her shoulder at you. "No, no problem at all! In fact, I think this is a sign of divine intervention from the Gods!" she says. As you walk alongside Fredorica, her golden armor glistens like a beacon of strength in the castle's dimly lit hallway. Her green eyes hold a mixture of admiration and intrigue as she looks ahead, seemingly lost in thought. When she speaks, her words carry an air of wonder, and her tone softens with respect as she addresses you, the Dragon Tamer. “No one and I mean no one has ever got close to the Royal Protector like you, Dragon Tamer!” she said, breaking the silence. She tilted her head to look at you, her green eyes shining with curiosity. “Every time someone would request an audience with him, he would either dismiss them outright or meet them briefly for the sake of courtesy. But he would never engage in any meaningful conversation or interaction with them.” You raised an eyebrow in surprise. "What do you mean?" you asked, your curiosity piqued. You didn’t think you had done anything special or remarkable. You had just been yourself, and Lucas had been himself. Or so you hoped. Fredorica shrugged, the metal plates of her armor clinking together softly. "Lucas is a man of a few words," she explained. "And a man full of secrets!" You offer a casual shrug, trying to downplay the impact of her words. "I'm sure Lucas has met other people and enjoyed their company," you say, hoping to dispel any sense of uniqueness in your interactions with the enigmatic Royal Protector. But Fredorica's snicker makes it evident that your assumption misses the mark entirely. Her hand raises to wipe away a tear from her eye, her gauntlets gleaming in the dim light. "That's the best joke I have ever heard in my life," she manages to say, her voice tinged with amusement, "Not in the slightest. The Protector only talks to his inner circle, namely Their Majesties, The Princess, The Seneschal, and his husband. The rest of us are isolated from him." Her tone takes on a somber note, you can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the Royal Protector. It becomes apparent that Lucas is an intensely private and guarded individual, drawing a clear line between his inner circle and the rest of the world. You couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at her words. Lucas was known throughout the land as a fierce warrior and a brilliant strategist, but you had never considered him to be a recluse. "What about his knights?" you asked, gesturing to the Vanguard surrounding you. Fredorica shook her head. "Even we are kept at a distance," she said, her voice tinged with sadness. "He greets us and waves, but never stops for a spar or a drink." As you walked, you couldn't help but notice the hallway around you, with its ornate tapestries and flickering sconces. The images woven into the fabric were striking and surreal, full of beasts and heroes and strange, otherworldly creatures. You couldn't help but feel as if you were walking through a dream, a place where anything could happen. She looked at you with a mix of admiration and sadness. “He’s not stopping for anything or anyone.” She paused and sighed. “Except for you! I don't know what it is about you," she said. "But I have a feeling that things will be different this time." "What do you-" You opened your mouth to ask her what she meant, but she interrupted you. “I believe we have arrived at our destination!” she said, pointing at the wooden door in front of you. You could hear the sound of metal clashing against wood and grunts of exertion coming from inside. “Inside is Lucas training!” she said, turning to face you and bowing her head. “I wish you good luck in your endeavor, Dragon Tamer. I must take my leave now, as my duties call me to perform them.” She gave you a final smile and walked away, leaving you alone in front of the door. You stared at it, feeling nervous and anxious. You knew that Lucas was inside, practicing his swordsmanship and honing his skills. You knew that he was preparing himself for something, something that you feared and dreaded. //He was preparing himself for revenge.// ''He was preparing himself for Claire.'' You wanted to stop him, to talk to him, to reason with him. You wanted to tell him that revenge was not the answer, that violence was not the solution, that hate was not the way. Inside, you could see Lucas standing at the far end of the room, his back to you as he swung his sword in precise, fluid movements. Taking a deep breath, you steady your nerves, knowing that this conversation is pivotal. You approach Lucas, your footsteps echoing softly in the training chamber. As you draw nearer, he senses your presence and turns to face you, his eyes cold and unreadable. You could feel his gaze piercing through you, searching for any sign of weakness or deceit. "What do you want?" he asked, his tone sharp and clipped. "Lucas," you begin, your voice steady yet filled with empathy, "I understand your need for vengeance against Claire. The pain she has caused is undeniable, and it's natural to seek justice. But remember, vengeance is a path that leads to darkness. It consumes and changes us, and I fear it may cost you more than you realize." Your words hang in the air, the weight of your concern palpable. You hope that your connection, the bond that Fredorica mentioned, can sway him towards a path of healing and redemption. Lucas snorted derisively, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. "You think I care about your opinions, Chosen One?" he said. "Claire injured my Father. Her treachery and betrayal cannot be forgiven." [[Damn it Lucas, can't you see your becoming like her?]] [[I understand your pain Lucas but this is not the way!]] [[Do you think Lee and Garett will approve this?]] ''//(I'm thinking that your thinking that this will be the best course of dialogue to choose?)//''

You can’t forget the sound of her name. ''//Variel//''. It echoes in your mind, sending shivers down your spine. It fills you with fear and joy at the same time. Fear of what she might do, what she might become. Joy of what she has done, what she has been. You remember how she used to be. How she was always full of life, passion, and fire. How she would light up any room with her presence, her smile, her laughter. How she would challenge you, inspire you, and hurt you? But something changed in her. Ever since the phantom extracted a part of her essence, she became a different person. She became reserved and quiet, her fiery spark dwindled and faded. Becoming closed off and distant, her warm heart turned cold and hard even more. You rarely see her anymore. She spends most of her time in her room, locked away from the world. Only coming out at night, when the moon is high and the stars are bright. Wandering around the gardens, where the flowers are wilting and the shadows are creeping. You worry about her. You wonder what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling, what she’s hiding. You want to help her, to comfort her, to heal her. But you don’t know how. You don’t know if she wants you to. You don’t know if she needs you to. You walk along the hallways of the castle, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. But all you see are empty corridors, silent portraits, and dusty chandeliers. You hear the whispers of the people around you, gossiping about her, judging her, fearing her. ''//"This is her fault!"//'' you hear a voice rang out. ''//You feel a pang of anger and sadness in your chest. Wishing they would leave her alone. Hoping they would understand her. Praying they would respect her.//'' //But they don’t. They never do and it just gets worse as time goes by the voices growing louder and many.// You hear them whisper behind your back, spreading rumors and lies about her. Seeing them glare at you with suspicion and fear, blaming you for bringing her here. You feel them shun you with contempt and hatred, treating you like an outsider and a criminal ''"Fuck them!"'' You don’t care what they think. You don’t give a damn with what they say. You don’t give any thought in what they do. ''NO!'' You only care about her and her only! ''//Variel//''. //The name that haunts your dreams, that fills your heart, that drives your soul. You need to find her. You must talk to her. You need to be with her.// But where is she? You’ve searched everywhere, but you can’t seem to locate her. She’s always one step ahead of you, always out of reach, always hidden. “Chosen One!” you hear a voice behind you, jostling you out of your thoughts. You spin around, expecting to see one of the guards or servants. But no one is there. “Down here!” the voice says again, chuckling. You look down and see a gray wolf sitting on the floor, looking up at you with his golden intelligent eyes. He has a silver collar around his neck, with a pendant shaped like a crescent moon. “Athos?” you ask, unsure. “The one and only!” he replies, bowing his head at you in respect. He is one of the few friends you have aquired in this place, one of the few who doesn’t judge you or Variel. He is loyal, brave, and wise. Ever since the incident, Athos decided to stay and help with the affairs of the kingdom who would have thought that a wild wolf have so many ideas or insights for that matter? “Is something the matter, Chosen One?” he inquires, raising his head to lock eyes with you again. His gaze is piercing and curious, like that of a hunter. You sigh and shake your head. “Nothing much really,” you lie. “I’m just looking for Variel.” Athos gasps in relief. “That’s good to hear,” he says, his tail wagging happily. “I’m also looking for her!” He stands up and walks beside you, matching your pace. He looks around the castle with interest and excitement, as if it were a new adventure. He cares for Variel as much as you do, maybe even more. Always the one who kept trying to change the minds of the people about Variel, risking his own life and reputation. He was the one who stayed by her side, protecting her and healing her. He is more than a friend to her. He is like a brother to her. He is also like a brother to you. You smile at him gratefully, glad to have him by your side. You feel a surge of hope and courage in your chest. //Maybe together, you can find her.// But then, you hear a voice that shatters your optimism and happiness. “She’s a bad omen, I tell you!” the voice says loudly and angrily. “The moment she arrived, the dark spirit arrived as well!” You stop in your tracks and turn to see who said that. You see a group of people standing near a window, pointing at something outside. They look scared and angry, their faces twisted with hatred and fear. You follow their gaze and see what they are pointing at. A dark cloud is hovering over the castle, blocking out the sun and casting shadows over everything. It swirls and pulses with an ominous energy, as if it were alive and hungry. You feel a chill run down your spine, as you realize the danger she is in. Knowing that being the directed ire for the populace can have dire consequneces if left unchecked. You need to find her. You need to protect her. You need to fight for her. But where is she? You look at Athos, hoping he has an idea. But he looks as clueless and worried as you are. He also looks angry and hurt, as he hears the people’s words. He snarls in anger, baring his teeth and growling. He wants to confront them, to defend Variel, to make them pay. But then he shakes his head and whimpers, knowing that there’s nothing he can do at the moment. The people are too scared and distrustful of Variel, too blinded by their prejudice and ignorance. They won’t listen to him. They won’t listen to you. They won’t listen to reason. They only listen to their hate. Athos lets out a long sigh, defeated and with his head bowed down in disappointment. "When will they ever learn?" he mutters, the frustration evident in his voice. Noticing his disappointment, you kneel down to him, placing a hand on his head and scratching his ears. Despite knowing that Athos can talk, deep down, he's just like any other big dog, with a soft spot for a good ear scratch. Not to mention! He loves being petted and praised, especially by you! "Give it time, Athos," you say reassuringly, hoping to comfort him. It's clear that at this point, the only thing that anyone can do is wait and hope for a change in heart for the kingdom. As you continue scratching his favorite spots, Athos leans even more into your touch, enjoying the comfort. You can't help but laugh at his enthusiasm for getting scratched, scratching him even more, giving him a brief moment of happiness amidst the chaos. You hope your words are true, but you have your doubts. You know how stubborn and blind people can be, how resistant to change and growth. Knowing deep down how hard it is to fight against arrogrance and opinions, how long it takes to build trust and respect. But you also know how strong and brave Variel is, how resilient and a fighter she is. You know how much she has endured and overcome, how much she has given and sacrificed. You know how much she deserves to be happy and free, to be loved and accepted. Athos leans into your touch, closing his eyes and sighing. He feels your warmth and kindness, your sincerity and loyalty. He trusts you completely, as you trust him. He looks up at you with his golden eyes, shining with gratitude and affection. He smiles at you with his tongue out, wagging his tail happily. “Thank you, Chosen One,” he says sincerely. “You always make me feel better.” You smile back at him, feeling a surge of friendship and camaraderie. You ruffle his fur playfully, making him laugh. “You’re welcome, Athos,” you say cheerfully. “You always make me feel better too.” As you stand up to your full height, you give Athos one last affectionate ruffle, feeling the softness of his fur beneath your fingers. "Now, let's find Variel and make her come out of her blasted room!" you declare with unwavering determination. “Agreed!” Athos looks up at you, his golden eyes shining with the same enthusiasm as yours. His tail swishes rapidly and joyfully, his excitement mirroring your own. You take confident strides towards the window, the voices of the women nearby still audible as they continue their accusatory gossip. Their words pierce through the air like arrows, targeting Variel's seclusion and causing your anger to rise. "How long must she stay here, and how long must we suffer for her?" one of the women says, her tone filled with disdain and impatience. You try your best to ignore the voices, but they persist, the relentless murmurs like a swarm of bees buzzing in your ears. Finally, you can't take it anymore, and you lash out at the women with a sharp retort. "Can you do something productive with your time rather than gossiping about someone else's struggles?" you ask incredously, your voice cutting through the air like a knife. The women turn to look at you, their expressions a mix of surprise and indignation. They open their mouths to retort, but you don't back down, meeting their gaze with a steely resolve. "You have no idea what Variel is going through," you continue, your voice unwavering. “You should be ashamed of yourselves!” you press on, your eyes blazing. “You have no idea what she has been! You don't have the right to judge her, to mock her, to torment her. You're nothing but a bunch of cowards and fools wasting their time talking here instead of helping the realm!” You see them flinch and cower under your words. They lower their eyes and mutter apologies, but you do not care. You have said what you wanted to say. Turning away from them and resuming your walk, hoping to find Variel and comfort her. Beside you Athos nudges your hand with his nose, his expression proud and admiring. He knows how much you care for Variel, how much you respect her. He knows you would do anything for her. You smile at him and squeeze his fur. He is your loyal companion, your best friend, your confidant. Together, you will face any challenge, any danger, any gossipers. The sound of your footfalls on the ground seems to echo in the silence that follows. The smell of the flowers in the nearby garden wafts up to fill your nostrils, providing a welcome distraction from the ugliness of the situation. And yet, no matter how hard you try, you can't seem to shake the feeling of disappointment and frustration that lingers in the air. You keep walking, winding through the mazes of the castle, until you and Athos finally arrive at Variel's door. The two of you stop in front of it, and you look down at Athos. He meets your gaze, and the two of you nod to one another, sharing the same goal. : to bring Variel out of her self-imposed isolation. You raise your hand and rap on the door with your knuckles, feeling the solid wood under your skin. You hear nothing from the other side, no sign of movement or life. You clear your throat and call out her name. "Variel?" but your voice sounds choked and weak. You knock again, louder and more insistently. “Variel?” you repeat, your voice tinged with desperation. Still no reply. “Empress Variel?” Athos tries, his voice soft and respectful. He waits for a moment, then shakes his head. Silence reigns. //You feel a pang of disappointment and failure. You turn on your heel, ready to give up and leave. But then, you hear a faint sound from behind the door. A sound of metal scraping against metal, followed by a thud of something heavy being moved. The door’s bolt is being unlocked, the furniture that barricaded it is being shifted. You turn back and stare at the door, holding your breath. The hinges creak slowly, as if reluctant to open. A thin crack appears between the door and the frame, gradually widening. And then, you see her;// ''//Her once vibrant red hair seems to have lost its bright vermilion hue, now appearing like a dying flame. She is no longer adorned in revealing and bold attire; instead, she wears closed and reserved clothing, a stark contrast to her past self. Her eyes, once filled with an untamed burning inferno, now appear cold and devoid of life. The signature grin that always adorned her face is now gone, replaced by quivering lips and a nervous, biting of her lower lip, showcasing her uncertainty, fear, and vulnerability.//'' You stand there, surprised and relieved to see Variel finally stepping out of her room. The fact that she didn't close the door behind her suggests that she might still be uncertain about this encounter, ready to retreat at the slightest sign of discomfort. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart as you meet Variel's red gaze, which seems to pierce through your very soul. Her eyes caught sight of Athos, "Hello Athos!" Variel bends down, her hand affectionately patting the wolf's head, a gesture that elicits a gentle wag of his tail. The sight of Variel's tenderness towards Athos warms your heart, reminding you of the spirited and caring person she used to be or when she wants to be? Variel straightens her posture and turns her attention to you. The intensity of her red gaze sends a tingling sensation across your skin, a mixture of excitement and nervousness. You have not seen her for so long, and you do not know how she will react to you, feeling her uncertainty and vulnerability emanating from her every move. "Hello <<print $player_name>>," she says softly, almost a whisper as she offers you a rueful smile, the smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. Her voice sounds hoarse and weary, as if she has not spoken for ages. Mixed emotions startred swirling in her eyes leaving you feeling torn and conflicted. On one hand, you want to reach out and comfort her, to remind her that she doesn't have to face her struggles alone. On the other hand, you are afraid of scaring her away, of pushing her too far, of losing her again. In this moment, you have a choice to make. You can take a step forward, offering your support and understanding, or you can hold back, fearing that your presence might add to Variel's burden. The decision weighs heavily on your mind, and you try to gather your thoughts, searching for the right words to say. ''//What will you say? How will you approach her? How will you make her come out of her haven?//'' [[Screw it! I hug her!]] (Don't pick this but knowing you Reader!) [[I reach for her slowly, showing her safety and comfort]] [[I maintain my distance, making her offer the iniative]]

Ahhh...Yes, Clara! A name that once stirred excitement and desire within you, now evoked only worry and deep concern. Her transformation was a stark reminder of the profound changes that had taken place. It all began innocently enough, on that fateful night of the ball when you and she decided to play a prank on Lucas. Her demeanor had shifted dramatically since then. The lively spunk that had once defined her, the radiant smile that could brighten even the dullest day, her mischievous and playful behavior – all had dissipated like morning mist under the scorching sun. The change didn't stop there. It intensified, growing darker and more troubling with each passing day. It was as if something had stolen the very essence of her being. She moved through life like a shadow of her former self, haunted by an unseen torment. And then came that horrifying day when Claire's ruthless attack had shaken her to the core. The effects were visible, etched onto her very soul. The scars of that encounter ran deep,cutting through her spirit like jagged shards of glass. Each glance into her eyes revealed a profound sadness, a longing for something lost. Her laughter, once a melody of joy, had turned into a hollow echo. The vivaciousness that had drawn you to her now seemed like a distant memory, replaced by an unsettling stillness. You had watched as Clara struggled to regain her sense of self, to piece together the fragments of her shattered spirit. It was a painful and heart-wrenching journey, one filled with uncertainty and fear. She became serious, a royalty and being devoted to her role to the kingdom. An action she haven't done before. But through it all, your concern for her remained unwavering. You longed to see that spark of life return to her eyes, to hear the genuine laughter that had once been her trademark. The worry etched into your heart grew with each passing day, a constant reminder of the vibrant soul that had been eclipsed by darkness. You knew that something had to be done. Your intuition was screaming at you to intervene, to break through the shroud of pain that had enveloped her. But how? The words seemed to stick in your throat, trapped by the weight of uncertainty. In that moment, you made a decision. Your path had become clear: You would bring Clara back from the brink. You would show her the light, guide her back into the realm of the living. This...you...promise. Traversing the labyrinthine castle hallways, your frustration mounted with every wrong turn and contradictory answer from the bewildered servants. Each moment you delayed, Clara grew more distant, lost within the sprawling fortress. "Lost Chosen One?" A voice sliced through the still air, sending a shiver down your spine. You scanned the surroundings, desperately trying to locate the source, but it remained elusive. "Hello?" You responded hesitantly, uncertainty lacing your words. "Right! You are lost!" The voice retorted with annoyance, and then you heard a soft thud before you. Whipping around, your eyes locked onto a mysterious figure in a flowing cloak, their features veiled in shadow. Your heart quickened with anticipation as you felt a surge of curiosity and intrigue. Who could this person be? What secrets did they hold? With a mixture of caution and excitement, you took a step closer, drawn by an invisible force. "My name is Sarah," she declared, her voice carrying a hint of authority. As she dropped to one knee in a respectful greeting, you couldn't help but notice the grace and elegance in her movements. Rising, she pushed back the hood, revealing her face. The sight of her took your breath away. Sarah had dimples on her cheeks, giving her an air of approachability. Her eyes, the color of auburn, seemed to hold a flicker of warmth amidst the shadows. Her hair, a vibrant shade of ginger, cut short and braided, framing her face like a fiery halo. She exuded a sense of familiarity, as if you had known her in another life. However, as you continued to appraise her, a chill ran down your spine. The cold, dead look in her eyes sent shivers down your spine, contradicting the friendly demeanor she projected. You couldn't help but sense an air of danger and mystery surrounding her. "How can the Eye of the Queen be of service?" Sarah asked, her voice filled with an enigmatic blend of confidence and intrigue. Her words hung in the air, pregnant with possibilities. You could sense that she held the key to answers you had been seeking, but at what cost? "I'm seeking for my friend!" you inquire her. Sarah crossed her arms, her expression inquisitive as she leaned her weight onto one leg, her cape billowing behind her in the wind. "And what will be the name of your friend?" she asked, her raised eyebrow revealing a hint of curiosity. "Clara!" you replied hastily, the desperation evident in your voice as you sought any lead that could help you find her. Without further ado, Sarah turned on her heel, her cloak swirling dramatically, and briskly began to stride forward. She didn't check to see if you were following, her confidence suggesting an unquestionable authority. You hastened to catch up, matching your steps with hers. Finally, you managed to draw alongside her and couldn't help but let your curiosity get the better of you. "So what relationship do you have with the princess?" you asked, your tone filled with genuine curiosity. Sarah glanced at you briefly, her auburn eyes reflecting the play of emotions within. "I serve the queen in matters of intrigue and discretion," she replied cryptically, her words laden with a sense of mystery. "My role often leads me to cross paths with those who hold importance in the realm, including Princess Clara. Now, tell me, why are you so eager to find her?" As the question hung in the air, memories of Clara's painful struggle to cope with the aftermath of Claire's attack flooded your mind. The weight of it all hit you like a tidal wave, causing you to look down, your heart heavy with urgency and despair. "She's going through such a tough time right now," you confessed, your voice laced with worry. "I'm terrified that if I don't step in, she'll be lost forever." Just then, Sarah abruptly halted, nearly causing you to collide with her. You stumbled, desperately trying to regain your balance as your pulse quickened. "Is that so?" she asked, her tone laced with doubt, stealing a quick glance at you over her shoulder. "Yes!" you exclaimed with intensity, frustration seeping into your voice. You were growing impatient with her constant questioning. "Then, let us proceed," Sarah declared, her voice filled with newfound determination. She strode forward, and you followed her lead, maneuvering through the castle's winding corridors. With each echoing footstep on the marble floors, a sinking feeling settled in your stomach. Doubts began to nibble at your heart, making you question your decision to seek Sarah's help. Could she be leading you on a wild goose chase? "Just a little bit farther," Sarah reassured you, her eyes fixed on the task at hand. Her face was a mask of indifference, leaving you torn between your desire to uncover her secrets and the warning signs of delving too deep. Climbing the final stairwell, you and Sarah finally stood before a sturdy wooden door, adorned with a sign that read: Library. Standing alongside her, you couldn't help but sense an air of mystery emanating from Sarah. A part of you longed to uncover her hidden depths, while another part cautioned against the dangers that lay ahead. Sarah's hand hesitated over the handle, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. Unease washed over you, and you opened your mouth to voice your concerns, but before you could utter a word, the door creaked open. Revealed before you was a dimly lit room, filled with shelves upon shelves of books of all shapes and sizes. The musty scent of leather filled your nostrils, mingling with the sound of pages turning and creaking floorboards. With a gesture for you to follow, Sarah entered the room, her footsteps echoing off the walls. You trailed behind, captivated by the vast array of books, each perfectly aligned and organized by size and color. In the heart of the room, surrounded by towering wooden shelves and cabinets, sat Clara. "There she is!" Sarah whispered, nodding her head in Clara's direction. You stepped forward, determination in every stride, but Sarah's grip tightened around your wrist, halting your progress. "Don't do anything reckless!" she warned, her voice filled with concern. However, you remained steadfast. "I would never!" you declared with unwavering conviction, feeling a surge of anger at Sarah for even suggesting that you would harm Clara. Sarah released her grip and quietly slipped away, leaving you to face Clara alone. As you approached her, Clara's face came into view, and you couldn't help but gasp. She appeared drained, her eyes hollow and vacant, her skin a sickly shade of gray, and her lips cracked and chapped. Upon noticing your presence, Clara rose, her movements slow and burdened as if carrying an immense weight. "Clara!" you called out, the desperation evident in your voice. Clara as if in a trance shakes her head and finally noticing you for the first time. "Oh <<print $player_name>>, I didn't see you there!" she chuckled weakly and smiling ruefully at you. [[I haven't peg you a bookworm.]] [[What's going on? You are not yourself anymore. What can I do for you? How can I help? Just say the world.]] [[Not only me, it seems. You haven't been seen much lately, Clara. I'm worried about you. I care about you, you know? Talk to me.]]

Lucian, your number one fun-loving and ever-friendly companion, now weighed heavily on your heart with a sense of dread. Since the aftermath of the attack, he had confided in you, revealing a startling transformation. His once divine status as a god had been stripped away, leaving him as a mere demi-god. But that was not the only change that had befallen him. As you look into his eyes, you notice the absence of their usual shine and warmth. They now appear dull and lifeless, as if the vibrant spirit that once resided within them has been extinguished. The smile that used to light up his face has transformed into a tight line, etched with pain and uncertainty. It's as if a veil has been drawn over his once carefree demeanor, replacing it with a guarded and doubtful stance. The very essence of who he was seemed to have shifted, leaving you to grapple with the weight of his transformation. It was as if he had been robbed of his former self, and in its place stood a version of Lucian that was almost unrecognizable. As you stand there, watching him retreat further into himself, a feeling of helplessness washes over you. The bond between the two of you, once unbreakable, now hangs by a fragile thread. You ache to see him smile, to bask in the warmth of his presence, but instead, you are left with a hollow emptiness. It's as if a dark shadow has descended upon his soul, smothering the light within him. The vibrant playfulness that once defined him has been replaced by a haggard and strained figure, devoid of life. His boyish charm, once capable of captivating with a single look or sentence, has vanished without a trace. Desperation fills your heart as you reach out to him, urging him to open up about the changes he's going through. But each attempt is met with a wall of silence, a barrier that separates you from him. With each passing day, he distances himself further, and you feel the weight of his absence growing heavier on your shoulders. There are moments when you find yourself lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, consumed by memories of the past. They taunt you, reminding you of how things used to be, of the person he used to be. You question why he won't let you in, why he won't accept your support, your friendship, your advice. The distance between you both widens, leaving you feeling lost and broken. His transformations haunt your thoughts as you sit beside him, examining him for traces of the Lucian you once knew. But it's as if he's become a different person, leaving behind the carefree and lighthearted spirit that you cherished. Can you blame him, though? The changes he's undergone, the loss of his godly status, have undoubtedly taken their toll. It's only natural for him to feel overwhelmed and burdened. Yet, you yearn to do something, anything, to alleviate his pain. He's lost connection with his former self, retreating into a shell that seems impenetrable. The sight of him this way is a constant ache in your chest. A surge of anger, sadness, and frustration rises within you, threatening to overwhelm your senses. How dare the Gods strip him of the joy and confidence he once possessed, replacing it with paranoia and fear. You long to hold him tightly, to offer reassurance that he is not alone. But his self-imposed isolation prevents your touch from ever reaching him. He has locked himself away, shutting out not only the world but also those who love him most. The disconnection between you is agonizing, a knife piercing through your heart. That's how you remember him when you saw him last time. Now you dread thinking how he fares now? As you stand there, your heart heavy with a mix of hope and despair, you can't help but fixate on the changes that have consumed Lucian. The once vibrant and jovial spirit that you knew so well has been replaced by a haunting darkness that seems to engulf him. It's as if a storm has taken residence within his very being, and you fear that it may never pass. Days turn into weeks, and still, Lucian remains lost in this abyss. The castle corridors, once filled with laughter and warmth, now feel empty and suffocating. You know that time is slipping through your fingers, and you can no longer sit idly by, waiting for things to magically improve. With a resolute determination, you set out on a mission to bring back the Lucian you once knew. Your steps echo through the dimly lit hallways, the scent of dust and ancient secrets lingering in the air. Each creaking floorboard amplifies the weight of your purpose, as if the very castle itself is aware of the gravity of the situation. But finding Lucian proves to be a challenge. His room stands empty, devoid of any trace of his presence. The servants, who once knew his every move, are equally clueless as to his whereabouts. Panic creeps up your spine, threatening to consume you as you feel the walls closing in. Just as despair threatens to overtake you, a voice cuts through the silence, jolting you back to reality. "<<print $player_name>>!" it calls, and you turn to see Lee approaching you. His appearance is worn, his hair disheveled, and his clothes bear the stains and marks of a battle fought within oneself. His weary eyes no longer hold their former spark, and his once confident demeanor has been replaced by a weariness that seems to seep into his very bones. You turn, your gaze landing on Lee, a figure worn and weathered. His appearance tells a story of battles fought within oneself, his hair disheveled and his clothes bearing the stains and marks of a relentless struggle. The weariness etched into his face is palpable, his once vibrant eyes now dulled, devoid of their former spark. The confident demeanor he once possessed has been replaced by a weariness that seems to seep into his very bones. A mixture of relief and apprehension washes over you as Lee approaches. His presence offers a glimmer of hope amidst the desolation that surrounds you. "Lee, you look..." The words catch in your throat, surprised by your choice of description. "You look like shit," you blurt out, unable to mask the raw truth, but before you can backpedal, you hastily add, "I apologize." Lee's response is unexpected. He bursts into laughter, a sound filled with mirth and liberation. "Don't be sorry," he chuckles, the lines of exhaustion on his face creasing with the force of his amusement. "It's a nice change of pace to hear someone being honest with me. I don't know if I should be pissed or comforted if anyone said I'm good-looking or..." He pauses, catching a whiff of his own scent. "Fragrant!" he exclaims, his laughter echoing in the air. You can't help but join in his laughter, the tension in the atmosphere momentarily lifted. The weight that had burdened your shoulders begins to loosen, replaced by a renewed sense of camaraderie. However, there's a question that has been gnawing at your psyche, one you're hesitant to ask, fearing it might shatter the fragile levity of the moment. Yet, you can't suppress the curiosity any longer. "How is Garett?" The words escape your lips like a whisper, carrying the weight of your concern. Lee's laughter, unusually prolonged, echoes in the corridor before slowly fading away, leaving an uncomfortable silence in its wake. His sigh is heavy with the burden of truth. "He's still unconscious," he finally responds, his voice tinged with a mixture of relief and worry. "But he's alive, and in these times, that's something to hold onto." Your concern for Garett lingers like a shadow, a reminder of the trials and tribulations your group has endured. However, Lee seems determined to steer the conversation away from the painful subject. He turns his attention to you, his eyes probing and inquisitive. "But enough of that," he says, his voice taking on a more determined tone. "I can see you're searching for something. What is it, <<print $player_name>>?" His words hang in the air, inviting you to share the weight of your own concerns and desires, even as the castle's cold stone walls seem to lean in closer, as if they, too, are eager to hear your response. The question lingers in the air like a fragile wisp of hope, carrying the weight of your unspoken fears and concerns. In Lee's penetrating gaze, you find the courage to voice the turmoil that's been festering within you. Your words emerge like a hesitant confession, fragile but undeniable. "Lucian," you utter, your voice barely a breath, as if afraid that speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile veneer of composure you've clung to. "I'm worried about him. Ever since the attack, he's changed. He's become distant, withdrawn, and I feel utterly powerless to help him." Your eyes, once locked with Lee's, falter, dropping to the cold, unforgiving stone floor below. Shame and helplessness claw at your insides, making it difficult to continue. "I fear he's slipping further into the darkness, and I don't know how to bring him back." The silence that follows is a heavy shroud, thick with unspoken emotions. Lee's gaze remains unwavering, his eyes drilling into yours, peering into the depths of your soul. Part of you wishes you could unsay the words, but they hang in the air, a raw and undeniable truth that cannot be erased. "That's a valid concern," Lee finally responds, his voice measured and filled with thoughtfulness. His words bring a glimmer of hope to the desolation that had threatened to consume you. "But I believe you underestimate Lucian. He's a survivor, someone who doesn't yield easily to despair." His eyes narrow, and the hint of a small smile touches his lips, dispelling the weight of the moment. "Moreover, he has us. We're not just friends; we're his allies, his guardians. We won't let him fade into the abyss. Not while we still draw breath." As you peer into Lee's eyes, a warmth radiates from his words, washing over you like a soothing balm. It lifts the heavy burden from your heart and replaces it with a newfound sense of hope. In that moment, clarity and calm settle over you, like sunlight breaking through storm clouds after a long and relentless tempest. "But I want still to see and talk to him that's only way I will feel at peace with myself!" you say to him urgently. Lee nods in understanding, a spark of determination flashing in his eyes. "We need to find him first," he replies. "Any idea where he could be hiding?" You shake your head, a sense of defeat creeping up inside you. "No, he could be anywhere in the castle or the kingdom," you respond, frustration bubbling to the surface. Lee grins, his expression suddenly playful. "Leave it to me. I have an idea." He motions for you to follow him, and without hesitation, you fall into step beside him. Your pace quickens, your heartbeat rising with anticipation as you realize the seriousness of his plan. As you walk, your eyes scan the surroundings, taking in the castle's grandeur. The walls are adorned with elaborate tapestries, and the floor is polished to a gleaming shine. It's hard to believe that such a beautiful place could be harboring the darkness that threatens to consume your friend. Suddenly, Lee slows, his eyes fixed on a narrow passageway hidden behind a large tapestry. "This way," he whispers, his tone low and urgent. "I'm the one who told him of these path. As you follow him, your senses are heightened, alert to the possibility of danger lurking in the shadows. The passageway seems endless, winding and twisting as if to confuse and disorient you. Your footsteps echo in the stillness, creating a strange sense of foreboding. "So, Lucian, huh?" Lee's voice breaks the silence, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "What about him?" you counter, curious about the direction of his inquiry. "Is there something more between you two?" Lee presses, a twinkle of curiosity in his eyes. Your eyes roll involuntarily, exasperation lacing your voice. "Nothing is going on between us," you insist, your frustration palpable. "We're just friends. I'm concerned for him, that's all." Lee shrugs nonchalantly, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "Sure, and my name isn't Lee," he retorts, a playful banter weaving between you. The banter continues, each of you poking fun at the other. The tension is broken, and the atmosphere is light. But you can't help but notice the undercurrent of concern in his words. It's a subtle reminder that no matter how easy it is to laugh and joke, the darkness remains. Suddenly, the mood shifts, and Lee's expression becomes more serious. He pulls you to the side, his voice low and urgent. "Lucian's been here," he whispers, motioning to a set of footprints in the dirt. You peer closely, recognizing the distinctive shape of his boots. They lead further down the path, and you follow them with bated breath. As you continue, the tunnel narrows, and the air becomes damp and cloying. You can sense the darkness pressing in on you, threatening to smother you. As you emerge into a small clearing, your heart pounds with anticipation. In the center, a figure stands, their bare skin glistening with sweat from rigorous warm-up exercises. They perform jumping jacks, their muscles flexing with each movement. Their torso twists and turns, revealing a sculpted physique honed through countless hours of training. Lee saunters towards Lucian with a jovial grin, his footsteps echoing through the abandoned training area. "Lucian being busy I see!" Lucian, standing nearby, turns around with a stoic expression, but his eyes widen in surprise as they meet yours. "<<print $player_name>>?" Lucian blinks multiple times, as if trying to dispel the illusion of your presence. With a smile, you confirm, "Yes, it's me." You approach him, stopping in front of him and meeting his gaze. "We've all been worried about you, Lucian. You've been distant lately, and I've missed my fun-loving buddy." Lucian's gaze remains guarded, his defenses firmly in place. "You shouldn't have come," he insists, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration. "This is my problem, and I'm handling it on my own." Lee raises an eyebrow, his skepticism apparent. "By training and hiding out in an abandoned training area?" he questions, his tone laced with incredulity. "I'm not hiding," Lucian retorts, his tone firm. "I'm just...trying to focus on my training." But you steer the conversation back to its core. "We came here because we care about you, Lucian," you say earnestly, your eyes locking with his. "You don't have to face whatever you're going through alone. We're here to help, to support you." Lucian's expression softens, and he sighs, the weight of his troubles evident in the lines of his face. "I appreciate that, really. But I need to figure things out on my own first." Lee interjects with a chuckle. "Well, I will be going," he quips. "But <<print $player_name>> is here to help, and I need to check on my precious, too." He winks at the two of you and even starts whistling a wedding tune, a playful way of emphasizing his departure. As Lee walks away, you can't help but roll your eyes at his antics. But as you turn back to Lucian, your eyes lock with his, and you realize that there's a newfound sense of intimacy between the two of you. The air is thick with emotion, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. Your eyes drop to his bare torso, and you can't help but notice the ripple of his muscles, the warmth of his skin, the sheen of sweat glistening in the sunlight. [[Lean close to examine it much more carefully]] ''//(You must be very thorough huh?)//'' [[Training? What's the occasion?]] [[As I admire the view, can you kindly cover it? I can't afford being distracted right now!]]

You ignore the danger and run towards him, hoping to reach his heart somehow. Lucas is the only thing that matters to you, and if you have to suffer his wrath to make him see the truth, you are willing to do it. “Damn it, Lucas! Can’t you see you’re becoming like her?” you scream with all your strength, your voice cracking with desperation. Lucas stops his sword mid-swing and looks at you with a twisted smile. “Becoming like her? How so?” he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. You grit your teeth, feeling his mockery like a slap in the face. “You’re falling into the same abyss as her, Lucas. You’re hurting your friends and the ones who love you. You’re losing yourself in this madness.” you plead, tears stinging your eyes. Lucas stares at you coldly, his eyes devoid of any warmth or compassion. You feel a chill run down your spine as he speaks. “There’s one difference between me and her, my dear. She will die by my hand, and I will live!” he declares, his voice full of conviction. With each declaration, he moves behind the dummy, facing you with a sword in hand. As he strikes the dummy with force and anger, the sound of metal clashing against wood echoes through the chamber, mirroring the conflict within Lucas himself. His fury and anguish intertwine with every strike, revealing the darkness that consumes him. You take a step closer, your heart breaking for him, for the pain he carries. "Lucas, revenge will only lead to a cycle of suffering," you implore, "It won't bring you peace or justice. Please, let go of this path before it's too late." But he seems deaf to your pleas, his focus solely on his own pain and desire for retribution. His eyes are distant, locked in a battle of their own, as if wrestling with the torment that grips his soul. "You're throwing away everything you hold dear," you continue, your voice trembling with emotion, "Your friends, your loved ones – all of it lost to this obsession." As you speak, you notice a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, a fleeting moment of vulnerability that gives you a glimmer of hope. But it's quickly replaced by a mask of resolve, and he strikes the dummy again, his blows fueled by anger and grief. He raises his sword and slashes at it with brutal force, as if it was his enemy. With each strike, he speaks louder and louder, as if trying to drown out your words. “I will live… because I have purpose!” He cuts off the dummy’s head. “I will live… because I have fury!” He slices through the dummy’s torso. “I will live… because I have a destiny!” He stabs the dummy’s stand. He turns around and faces you again, his sword glinting dnageroulsy under the light. He points it at you and smiles wickedly. “And you… what do you have?” he asks, challenging you to answer. You stare at him with a mix of defiance and fear, and force yourself to speak. “I have you and our friends, Lucas!” you say in a low voice. “We care about you, Lucas. We want to help you. Please, don’t do this.” Lucas sneered, pointing his blade towards you in a mocking gesture. "You and your precious friends? What good will they do me? I don't need anyone." You clenched your fists, anger and frustration welling up inside of you. You couldn't believe that Lucas was slipping further and further into the darkness, that he was turning his back on everything and everyone who had ever cared for him. "You're wrong," you said, your voice low and intense. "You need us, Lucas. But Lucas clicks his tongue in annoyance, his determination unwavering. He moves to the next dummy, seemingly unfazed by your words. “There you go again!” he snaps, moving to the next dummy. “I don’t need anyone’s help, especially not yours. And nothing you say will change my mind!” he says, his eyes meeting yours briefly before he looks away and scoffs. “Let me guess, you think this is not the real me?” he asks mockingly. “Tell me, do you really know me?” he challenges. “Yes, I do. We spent so much time together, we-” you try to say, but he cuts you off. "WERE NOTHING!" he sneers, his sword slicing through the air as he continues to assault the dummy, "You think the time we spent together means something? It was all a lie!" His words strike you like a physical blow, and you feel the weight of his rejection in every syllable. You struggle to find the right words to convince him otherwise, but he doesn't give you a chance. "You don't know me, and you never will!" he proclaims with finality, his anger boiling over. The atmosphere in the training chamber becomes charged with tension, like a storm on the verge of breaking. You're hurt by his harsh words, but you refuse to give up on him. "Lucas, I know there's goodness within you," you insist, your voice now tinged with desperation, "I've seen it, and I won't abandon you." But Lucas just laughed bitterly, his eyes glistening with anger and pain as he moved to assault the dummy once more. "Goodness?" he sneered. "You think that anything you say can change what I've become? You think that you can save me?" Your whole body shook with anger as you watched him attack the dummy, every swing of his sword driving home the rage and pain that he was feeling. It was like he was using violence to drown out everything else, to block out any voice that went against his own. "I won't give up on you," you said, your voice firm and resolute. "No matter what you say or do, I won't stop fighting for you." But Lucas just turned towards you with a cruel smile, his expression twisted with anger and hatred. "Then you'll be my enemy too," he threathened. "Get out of my sight before I do something I'll regret." As you turned and fled the room, your heart heavy with grief and despair, you couldn't help but feel like everything was falling apart around you. Why couldn't Lucas see what he was becoming? Why couldn't he understand [[Next|Lucas Dummy POV]]

You try to calm your voice, to sound gentle and soothing. You know Lucas is like a wild beast, angry and unpredictable. Any words you say to him might either pacify him or enrage him even more. “I understand your pain, Lucas, but this is not the way!” you urge him, plead with him. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to become a monster.” Lucas doesn’t stop hitting the dummy. He slashes and stabs it with his sword, making it bleed straw and cloth. He ignores your words, your voice, your presence. He only focuses on inflicting pain as much as possible on the object. “That’s it?” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You came all this way just to say that to me?” He snickers, a cruel sound that makes you shiver. The snark in his voice only fuels your determination. "I didn't come here to give up on you," you reply, your voice unwavering, "I came here because I believe in the person you once were – the man who cared deeply for his loved ones and fought for justice." He looks at you with contempt, his eyes mocking you. “Very astute of you!” he says snarkily. “You think you can understand me? You think you can save me? You think you can change me? You’re pathetic, Chosen One. You’re weak. You’re blind. You don’t know anything about me. About Claire. About what she did to me. About what I’m going to do to her.” Lucas didn't stop hitting the dummy, his swings growing more and more violent with each passing second. His eyes were blazing like blue fire, his hair whipping around his face like a dark halo. Then he laughed, a harsh and bitter sound that cut through you like a knife. "How pathetic can you be? Trying to play at being the virtuous hero when how many times I have told you to leave me be?" You watched as Lucas's swings grew faster and more erratic, his eyes trained on the dummy in front of him as if it was the enemy he was seeking revenge against. Your heart ached for him, for the pain he was going through, but you knew that you had to keep trying to reach him. "You don't have to do this alone, Lucas," you said softly, taking another step forward. "I'm here for you. We all are. You don't have to carry this burden by yourself." Lucas stopped his swings for a moment, turning to look at you with a mixture of anger and sadness in his eyes. "Enough" he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You think you have any idea what I'm feeling?" His words stung, but you didn't let it show. "No, I don't know exactly what you're feeling," you said calmly, "but I know what it's like to lose someone you love. I know what it's like to feel lost and alone and like nothing will ever be right again. But I also know that there's hope. That there's a way through the darkness." Lucas turned back to the dummy, gripping his sword so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "I don't want hope," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want revenge. I want justice. And I won't stop until I get it." Your heart broke at his words. He was so lost, so consumed by his pain that he couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. But you refused to give up on him. "You can have justice, Lucas," you said, stepping even closer to him and placing a hand on his arm. "But not like this. Not by becoming the very thing you're fighting against. There's a better way." Lucas's eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, it felt like time itself had stopped. His breath was hot against your cheek, and you could feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest. You didn't know what he was going to do, but you were ready for whatever came next. He smiled at you tenderly and genuinely, and your heart skipped a beat. For a moment, you thought you had broken through to him, that he had seen the light. You felt a surge of hope and joy, thinking that maybe he would drop his sword, hug you, and apologize. You thought that maybe he would come back to you, to himself, to the good side. “Thank you for your support and patience for me,” he said softly, his voice warm and sincere. He touched your face gently, his fingers caressing your skin. But then his smile faded, and his expression hardened. His eyes turned cold and distant again, and his fingers tightened around your face. He pushed you away from him, making you stumble back. He raised his sword again, pointing it at your chest. He said firmly and harshly, his voice cold and cruel: “But I will not stop and never will until I see Claire’s lifeless body in front of me!” Your hope and joy evaporated like mist on a hot summer morning, leaving your heart heavy with pain. Your mind struggled to comprehend the emotional turmoil that hit you, leaving you feeling like you were drowning in the deep end of a pool. You stared at Lucas’s unyielding expression, feeling a pang of pain in your chest. His sudden change of heart felt like a cruel trick. Had he been toying with you all along? Had he been mocking your efforts to save him? Had he been enjoying your suffering? “Consider that mercy, Chosen One,” he said threateningly, his voice full of malice. “Do not expect a second chance from me. If you ever cross my path again, I will not hesitate to end you.” His words felt like a final blow, a clear indication that his mind was set and that he had no intention of turning back from his vengeful path. The symbolism of his aggression towards the dummy was evident, reflecting the fury and frustration that consumed him. He turned his back on you and walked away from you, leaving you alone and hurt. He went back to hitting the dummy with much more ferocity than before, unleashing his rage and frustration on the object. He slashed and stabbed it with his sword, making it bleed straw and cloth. He kicked and punched it with his feet and fists, making it crack and crumble. He screamed and cursed at it with his mouth and voice, making it shiver and tremble. As Lucas returned to hitting the dummy, you sighed deeply, knowing that your attempt to bring him back to the light had failed. It felt like you were sinking deeper into a darkness of your own, a darkness that mirrored the one in his heart. You couldn't help but feel defeated, as if a weight had settled on your shoulders, too heavy to bear. The reality of the moment was surreal – the loss of hope, the crumbling of your belief that there was a chance to save him. Taking a step back, feeling a mix of emotions – sadness, frustration, and a tinge of fear for the path that now lay ahead. How will your interaction with Lucas in the near future will undergo? Taking one glance at him, you leave Lucas to his own devices, you exited the room, his anguish ringing across. [[Next|Lucas Dummy POV]]

''//(AN: Sure use his parent figures as a way to bring him back from the darkness, how that working out for you? haha)//'' You refuse to back down, hoping that there is still a chance to pull Lucas out of the darkness. “What about Lee and Garett, Lucas? Do you think they would approve of this?” you yell, your voice full of conviction. As soon as the words leave your mouth, Lucas stops his sword mid-swing and turns to you with a furious glare. He raises his weapon again and strikes the dummy with such force that his sword gets stuck in it. He leaves it there and walks to the rack where wooden swords are displayed. Your eyes follow his every movement, and your heart pounds loudly in your chest, but you don’t show it. You can’t afford to show any weakness now. Lucas grabs two swords from the rack and throws one at you. The wooden stick skids and clatters on the ground, stopping right in front of you. “HOW DARE YOU?!” he roars, walking towards you. “HOW DARE YOU BRING THEIR NAMES INTO THIS?!” he repeats, getting closer and closer to you, too close for your comfort and safety. You stood unwavering, your eyes locked onto Lucas's, your arms folded across your chest in a display of restrained tension. You knew that Lee and Garrett were the two most important people in Lucas's life, and that their influence could make or break him. But it was a risk you had to take. You had nothing left to lose, and everything to gain. "You need to listen to me," you said steadily, your voice still ringing with conviction. "They may not approve of this, but they love you enough to want to help you. Don't shut them out." Lucas's brow furrowed in furious disbelief, his body quivering with an unbridled rage. You could see the manic energy coursing through him like an unsuppressable storm. "You don't understand anything," he hissed, his voice raw with hatred. "You have no idea what I'm going through. You think you can just come in here and tell me how to live my life?" You pick up the wooden sword and hold it in front of you, ready to defend yourself. You don’t want to fight Lucas, but you have no choice. He is coming at you with a murderous intent, and you have to survive. Stepping back away from him, the wooden sword clutched tightly in your hand. You tried to keep your voice steady, but a hint of desperation crept in. "I'm not trying to tell you how to live your life," you said, your voice rising with desperation. "I'm telling you that I care about you. Lee and Garrett care about you. We want to help you. We want to be there for you." The two of you circled each other, wooden swords at the ready. Lucas's eyes blazed with an unquenchable fury, his attacks fueled by a hatred for you that bordered on the irrational. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you tried to defend yourself while also making Lucas see reason. You knew that this fight could end in one of two ways - with Lucas seeing sense, or with one of you lying on the ground, defeated. “Lucas, please, listen to me. Lee and Garett were your mentors, your friends. They taught you everything you know. They cared about you. They wouldn’t want you to do this.” you say, trying to reason with him. Lucas snarls and swings his sword at you. You barely manage to block his attack, feeling the impact in your arms. He is stronger and faster than you, and you know you can’t keep up for long. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” he screams, as he unleashes a flurry of blows on you. “You don’t know anything about them! You don’t know what they sacrificed for me! You don’t know what they asked me to do!” he says, his voice full of rage and pain. You dodge and parry his strikes, feeling your breath getting shorter and your muscles getting tired. You see the madness in his eyes, the bloodlust in his smile. He is not the Lucas you knew, the Lucas you loved and created. He is a monster, a puppet of the darkness. “Lucas, stop! This is not you! This is not what they wanted for you! They wanted you to be happy, to be free, to be yourself! Not this… not this…” you say, your voice breaking. Lucas laughs maniacally and kicks you in the stomach, sending you flying backwards. You hit the wall hard and drop your sword. You gasp for air, feeling a sharp pain in your ribs. You look up and see Lucas standing over you, his sword raised high. He looks like a demon, a fallen angel. His blue eyes are cold and distant, his hair is wild and messy, his skin is full of scars. “This is me! This is who I am! This is who Claire made me!” he says, as he brings down his sword towards your chest. You close your eyes, not wanting to see his face, not wanting to fight him anymore. You wait for the impact, for the end. You remember how he used to be your friend, your ally, your own creation. You remember how he saved your life from the carriage, how he taught you how to fight from the gardens, how he made you laugh. You remember how he changed, how he became obsessed with Claire, how he's starting to inflict pain on you right now. You wonder if there is any hope for him, any redemption. But the impact never comes. You hear the shuffling of footsteps, the clanging of metal. You open your eyes and see Lucas walking away from you. He has thrown his wooden sword to the side and is heading back to the dummy where his real sword is embedded. He looks over his shoulder and says coldly: “You’re not my enemy, Chosen One. You’re nothing to me. Don’t force my hand.” He yanks his sword out of the dummy with a clack and resumed his training and ignoring you completely. As you get up from the ground, you know that this is a dismissal from Lucas. He's gone, replaced by the monster born from vengeance and pain. The hope of reaching him has dwindled, but you can't give up on him, not entirely. Turning on your heel, you make your way towards the exit, your heart heavy with the weight of the encounter. You know that the journey ahead is fraught with uncertainty and danger, but you won't abandon Lucas, even in the face of this darkness. [[Next|Lucas Dummy POV]]

''//(Lucas' POV)//'' The sword felt cold and heavy in my hand, as if it was a burden to carry. With every slash and stab, the dummy became more torn and battered, a poor substitute for the real target. Claire. The name burned in my mind, a constant reminder of the betrayal and the pain. She had attacked my father, the only one who ever cared, who ever showed kindness and love. She had stabbed him in the back, literally and figuratively, and left him to die. How could I forgive her? How could I forget? <<print $player_name>> tried to stop me, to persuade me to give up my revenge, to spare Claire’s life, to find another way. But ?mctheir words fell on deaf ears. Too consumed by hatred and anger, too blinded by the memory of Claire’s treachery. ?mcThey had given up, turned ?mctheir back on me, ?mctheir shoulders slumped and ?mctheir eyes filled with tears. A part of my heart felt relieved, while another part felt a pang of regret. Perhaps deep down, I wished ?mcthey would have fought harder, to show me that there was still a chance for redemption. But I knew better than anyone that my heart was clouded by darkness, and that there was no room for turning back. “Damn you, Claire!” My voice echoed in the air, filled with rage and fury. The sword swung at the dummy again, sending it crashing to the ground. It was a symbol of her, a representation of the one responsible for my suffering. With every strike, I felt a sense of catharsis, a fleeting relief in punishing something that made me believe to be her very essence. But amidst the fury, doubt began to creep in. Was Claire truly the reason for becoming like this? Was she solely responsible for the darkness that now consumed me? My heart wavered, conflicted between the desire for revenge and the lingering question of whether there was more to this story. My mind questioned itself, a whirlwind of moral and ethical dilemmas swirling around. My code had always been one of justice and protecting the innocent, but in seeking revenge, had I crossed a line? Had I become the very thing that I once fought against? My thoughts were a storm of conflicting emotions, and in the eye of this turmoil, there was a doubt that refused to be ignored. The training ground was deserted, except for the lone figure kneeling on the floor. The sword lay beside him, stained with red paint from the dummy. It reminded him of blood, of death, of violence. Was this who he was? Was this what he wanted? He felt a pang of guilt, of regret, of sadness. He thought of <<print $player_name>>, of ?mctheir gentle smile, ?mctheir warm touch, ?mctheir sincere words. ?mcThey saw something good in him, something worth saving. ?mcThey wanted to help him heal, to show him a different path. ?mcThey wanted to be there for him. ''But he pushed them away. He hurt ?mcthem physically and emotionally. He made ?mcthem cry. ''Why did he do that? Why couldn’t he listen to ?mcthem? Why couldn’t he trust ?mcthem?'' He dropped his sword, feeling a surge of emotion overwhelm him. He fell to his knees, clutching his chest. Tears streamed down his face, as he realized what he had done. ''He had lost everything.'' ''He had lost himself.'' He curled up on the floor, letting the tears flow freely from his eyes. They burned and stung his cheeks, washing away the dirt and blood that covered his face. They also washed away the sorrow that filled his heart, the sorrow that he had been holding back for so long. But he knew this feeling of relief was temporary. He knew it wouldn’t last. He knew it wouldn’t change anything. ''He still had to face the truth. He still had to face Claire.'' ''She was the one who ruined his life. She was the one who betrayed him. She was the one who hurt his father.'' ''She was the one who deserved to die.'' “If I’m set to hell, then I will make sure Claire will come down with me!” He said with finality, clenching his fists tightly. “This time I will save and protect my family! No more little Lucas watching everything being taken in front of him and doing nothing about it!” It felt like yesterday. The day when Claire showed her true colors. The day when she hurt his father. His father looked at him with his fading eyes, and whispered his last words. ''//“Lucas…my son…I love you…don’t let…hate…consume you…Help…Claire”//'' ''But it was too late. Hate had already consumed him. Hate had already taken over him.'' ''Hate had already made him who he was today.'' ''//A monster.//'' He sobbed harder, feeling his body shiver and wrack from the pain. He looked at himself in the mirror at his side, and saw a stranger staring back at him. He had dark circles under his eyes, from the sleepless nights and nightmares. He had scars on his face and body, from the fights and wounds. He had a cold and cruel expression, from the anger and bitterness. ''He was not himself. He was not Lucas.'' ''He was someone else.'' ''Someone he didn’t recognize.'' ''Someone he didn’t like.'' ''Someone he didn’t want to be.'' But then he heard a voice in his head. A voice that sounded familiar, but also foreign. A voice that sounded like his own, but also not. “Revenge is the only way!” it says. “Before you were young and naive, but now you are grown up and wise. You know what you have to do. You know what Claire deserves. You know what you want.” I shake my head, trying to block out the voice. But it only gets louder and louder, until it drowns out everything else. “Revenge is the only way!” it repeats. “Don’t listen to anyone else. Don’t listen to MC. Don’t listen to your father. Don’t listen to your heart. Listen to me. Listen to yourself. Listen to your hate.” ''I feel a surge of emotion overwhelm me again. But this time, it’s not guilt, or regret, or sadness.'' ''It’s rage.'' ''It’s fury.'' ''It’s anger.'' ''I stand up, picking up my sword again. I wipe away my tears, and harden my resolve.'' ''I look at myself in the mirror again, and see a different stranger staring back at me.'' He has a determined look in his eyes, from the conviction and purpose. He has a confident smile on his lips, from the anticipation and satisfaction. He has a fierce and ruthless aura, from the power and violence. ''He is me. He is Lucas.'' ''Someone I recognize.'' ''Someone I like.'' ''Someone I want to be.'' ''I nod at him, accepting his words as mine. Accepting his will as mine. Accepting his hate as mine.'' //''“Revenge is the only way!” we say together, in perfect harmony. “Claire will pay for her transgression! Claire will suffer for her sin! Claire will die for her crime!”''// I feel a surge of emotion overwhelm me again, but this time it’s not rage or fury. It’s determination. It’s conviction. It’s a sense of purpose. I have made up my mind, and nothing will stop me from fulfilling my destiny. You look at yourself in the mirror, and see a different stranger staring back at you. One who knows what he must do. One who is willing to do anything to achieve his goal. One who is unafraid of the consequences. One who is willing to face the darkness within. Taking a deep breath and adjust my grip on the sword. Looking at the dummy, and imagine Claire standing before me. She is smiling, her eyes filled with malice and cruelty. She is taunting you, daring you to strike her down. She is ready, her sword poised and waiting. She is not afraid, she is not hesitant, she is not sorry. She is a monster, just like you. I raise my sword, feeling a sense of calm wash over me. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, inhaling the scent of blood and sweat. I can hear the wind howling in the distance, and see the sun setting over the horizon. Feeling my heart beating in my chest, a steady rhythm that matches the pace of my breathing. And then, in one fluid motion, I lunge forward and bringing my sword down on Claire. Her smile disappears, and her eyes widen in shock. The clash of metal against metal fills the air as she desperately tries to block my strike, but my movements are too quick, too precise. The blade slices through her flesh, and she crumples to the ground, her smile replaced by shock and disbelief. I stand over her, a mix of satisfaction and relief washing over me. She is still alive, but barely. Her lifeblood spills onto the ground, mingling with the dirt and dust. Clutching her chest, she gasps for air, tears streaming down her face. She pleads, she begs for forgiveness. But I am unmoved. I do not forgive. I do not forget. I am resolute, unyielding. As I gaze down at Claire, a peculiar sensation fills me. There is no sorrow, no regret, no guilt. Instead, there is a profound sense of completion and finality. My father's words echo in my mind, his warnings about the perils of vengeance. I had chosen to ignore him, allowing my hate and anger to consume me. But now, as I stand over the broken body of my enemy, I know that my decision was justified. "Soon Claire...You and I will settle the score once and for all!" the scene changed back to the training room and I trained my body and mind once more. [[Next|Lee Meet Rick]]

''//(AN: Sure you pick this why didn't I even bother lol! Oh well I hope your heart is prepared for what to comes next ;)//'' You feel a surge of emotion as you see her standing in front of you, the one who got away, the one who still haunts your dreams. You can’t let this chance slip by, not again. You ball your hand into a fist and lock eyes with her, hoping to convey your intensity and passion. You know that this might spook her, but damn it all! You have to try and try you will! Taking a few brave steps forward, closing the distance between you and her. Her eyes widen in fear and surprise, like a doe caught in the headlights. She backs away, reaching for the doorknob behind her, trying to escape. But you are faster. You reach for her forearm and grip it firmly, not too lightly to let her go, not too hard to hurt her. You pull her close to you, feeling her warmth and softness against your chest. You can feel her body tense up against you, but you don't let go. You can smell the sweet scent of her perfume, mixed with a hint of something else that you can't quite place. It's a heady mix that makes you feel both dizzy and exhilarated. She gasps, struggling to free herself from your embrace. You hear her voice, high-pitched and trembling. "What are you doing?" Variel's voice is barely a whisper, but you can hear the fear in it. You pull back slightly, your gaze meeting hers. You lower your head and whisper in her ear, your voice hoarse and desperate. “Please, don’t go. Stay with me!” You feel her shiver, but you don’t know if it’s from fear or something else. You hope it’s something else. The scent of old books and a hint of lavender fills the air as you hold Variel close, her presence familiar and comforting despite the walls she's built around herself. The dim light filtering through the window casts soft shadows on the both of you, adding to the surreal and emotional atmosphere of the moment. "I'm here, Variel," you whisper softly, your voice barely above a breath. "You don't have to face this alone." You lift your head and look into her eyes, searching for a sign of hope, of love, of anything. You see a mix of emotions in her gaze: confusion, anger, sadness, and maybe…just maybe…a flicker of longing for companionship. Variel's eyes soften, and you feel her body relax into the embrace. You can feel the weight of the conversation that needs to be had looming between you, but for now, you hold onto each other tightly. In this moment, all that matters is the connection between you, and the feelings that stir deep within. The air is thick with unspoken words and emotions, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. You can feel Variel's heartbeat against your chest, the rapid rhythm echoing your own. The weight of her vulnerability and the depth of her pain are tangible in this intimate moment, and it's both heart-wrenching and beautiful. In this embrace, there is a sense of healing and acceptance. Variel, who once exuded fiery confidence, now finds solace in your arms, as if she's found a safe harbor in the storm. It's a moment of profound connection, a bridge between the shattered past and a hopeful future. You cling to her, unwilling to let her go. You feel her heartbeat against yours, her breath on your neck, her warmth in your arms. You wish this moment could last forever, that you could stay like this with her, the one who got away, the one who still haunts your dreams. ''//But then, like all good things, it must come to an end.//'' She pries her arms off you and steps back, breaking the spell and leaving a bittersweet sensation in your chest. Her eyes glisten with tears, as if she is trying to extinguish the fire that burns between you, like raindrops on a smoldering fire, and you can see the turmoil of emotions within her. With a blink, her eyes clear, returning to their bright red hue once more, as if the rain has passed, and the fire reignited. “Thank you!” she says, bowing her head meekly at you. Her hands are clasped in front of her, as if she is afraid to touch you again. She looks up at you, and you see a flash of guilt and regret on her face. “Oh!” she exclaims, covering her mouth with her hand. “I must be a terrible host!” She moves to the side, pushing the door open wider for you and Athos. “Please come in!” she says, smiling brightly at you. Her smile is like the sun, radiant and dazzling. It makes your heart flutter and ache at the same time, like a butterfly in a garden of emotions. Following her into her quarters, feeling Athos’ curious gaze on your back. You take in the sight of her room, trying to distract yourself from the turmoil in your chest. Seeing papers and a stylus lying on the ground, where an unfinished drawing lays. It looks like a sketch of a flower, blooming into deep crimson and pink shades, merging into one beautiful art. You wonder what it means, what inspired her to draw it. A table on the side of the door, the one she used to barricade the door. It is covered with books and notes, some open and some closed. You don't recognize some of the titles, symbols and spells litter the pages, guessing that Variel is looking for a way to revert the binding spell that was cast against her by the specter. Pots of flowers lined arrange on the corner, adding a touch of color and life to the room. You smell their fragrance, sweet and fresh, like the meadows and the daisies. You remember how she used to be more at ease on the free and open out door and you wish to see that side of hers once more. A bed lie on the other side of the room, clean and orderly. The sheets are white and soft, inviting you to lie down with her and forget everything else. You imagine how it would feel to hold her in your arms again and lay together on the soft and plush mattress with her by your side. ''//If she only allows it that is!//'' As Athos' pawsteps echo through the room, you snap out of your reverie, realizing that you've been standing at the center of Variel's quarters lost in thought. Her concerned and curious gaze meets yours, and her voice, soft and melodic, fills the air like a soothing melody. "Is everything all right?" she asks, her concern evident. Feeling a hint of dizziness, the combination of Variel's ethereal beauty and the warmth of her voice causing your head to spin. "Y-yes," you stutter, feeling a bit embarrassed at being caught in your thoughts. "Everything's fine." you feel a sudden urge to swoon into her arms, to feel her embrace you again. Turning around to face her and your breath catches in your throat, you try to regain your composure. But it's difficult to focus when every fiber of your being is captivated by her presence. As you take in the details of her room, you feel a sense of melancholy, knowing that this might be the last time you see it like this. Variel's retreat into isolation weighs heavily on your heart. Despite the adrenaline and determination that drove you to seek her out, now that you're face-to-face with her, that excitement fades, leaving you feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed. Her voice, like a gentle caress, makes your heart skip a beat, and you find yourself wanting to be closer to her. Finally noticing the dress she's wearing, a garment that seems to hide more than it reveals. It's as if Variel is afraid to show her true self to the world, keeping her features and appearance concealed from prying eyes. Yet even through the layers, the curves of her body are still alluring, teasing your imagination. You can’t help but admire her beauty, even though you know she is hiding behind layers of fabric. Yet, your eyes are drawn to the purple glowing curve mark on her chest, a haunting reminder of the phantom's extraction of her essence. It serves as a painful testament to the trauma she endured and the burden she carries. The mark seems to bind her, like a curse she cannot escape. You are aware of the room around you, the subtle details that make it hers. You inhale the faint scent of lavender, soothing your senses. You hear the soft rustling of papers, hinting at her creative mind. You feel the gentle creaking of the wooden floor beneath your feet, grounding you in reality. Variel’s presence fills the space with a quiet grace, like the calm after a storm. You can’t take your eyes off her chest, where the purple glow of the curse mark is. It is a cruel reminder of what she has suffered, what she has lost, what she has become. You wish you could erase it, make it disappear, make her whole again. She notices your stare, and puts a hand on her chest, as if to hide the mark from you. She looks at you with a mix of shame and defiance, as if she is challenging you to say something. You quickly meet her eyes, and apologize. “I’m sorry,” you say, feeling a pang of guilt. “I didn’t mean to stare.” Her hand remains on her chest, now clenched into a fist, as if trying to protect herself from your scrutiny. You can sense the pain and turmoil within her, and it breaks your heart to see her this way. All you wanted was to help her, to understand her, but it seems like every step forward is met with resistance. In that moment, you feel a glimmer of hope, believing that Variel might be opening up to you, allowing you to see the real her. But just as quickly, that hope is shattered, like a flame extinguished in the wind. Variel's hand falls to her side, and her shoulders slump in defeat. Realizing that this journey to bring Variel back from her isolation and pain won't be easy. Her experiences have left deep scars, and you must tread carefully, mindful of the delicate balance between curiosity and respect. You watch as she tries to smile, but you can see the strain in her face. Her lips are tight, her eyes are dull, and her cheeks are pale. She inhales sharply, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly. “It’s alright!” she says, but her voice is brittle and thin. “So what brings you to my humble abode?” She turns to face you, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. You feel a pang of guilt and concern. You came here to check on her, to see how she was coping with the horrific and life-changing experience she had gone through. But you also feel awkward and nervous, not knowing what to say or how to act. You want to apologize again, to tell her how sorry you are for what happened, but you don’t want to upset her more. You clear your throat and try to sound casual. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing,” you say. “How are you feeling?” She shrugs and waves her hand dismissively. “I’m fine,” she says, but you can hear the lie in her tone. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.” She gestures to the room around her, where you see various paintings, sketches, sculptures, and other artworks. “This keeps me busy,” she says. “It helps me express myself, you know? It’s therapeutic.” You nod and look around, admiring her creativity and talent. You see vibrant colors, intricate details, and powerful emotions in her creations. You wonder what they mean, what they represent, what they reveal about her inner world. You want to ask her about them, to learn more about her thoughts and feelings, but you also sense that some of them might be too personal or painful to talk about. You decide to focus on one that catches your eye. It’s a painting of a dragon, soaring in the sky above a mountain range. The dragon is majestic and fierce, with scales of gold and red, claws of steel and fire, and eyes of wisdom and fury. The sky is a swirl of blue and purple, with clouds of white and silver. The mountains are rugged and green, with peaks of snow and ice. You point to it and say, “That’s amazing. Did you paint that?” You see her eyes light up as she follows your finger to the painting. She seems to forget her troubles for a moment, as a new source of interest and pride takes over. She walks towards the painting with a bounce in her step, her voice taking a lighter tone. “Yes, it’s my magnum opus so far,” she says, as she reaches for the portrait that is resting on an easel. She holds it in her hands, admiring her own work. As she hold the painting in her hands, her voice takes on a lighter tone as she explains the inspiration behind the painting. Describing the hours of dedication and passion she poured into its creation. You can't help but be captivated by the passion in her voice, as if each stroke of the brush was infused with a piece of her soul. But as she gazes at her creation, the smile fades from her face and a hint of sadness creeps into her voice. "It's beautiful, but it also reminds me of how I used to be," she says in a somber tone. You walk beside her, taking in the sight of Variel as she stares at her painting, and you can see that she is lost in thought. Her face is angled downwards, the crease of her forehead deep with furrowed worry. Her hands shake slightly as she holds the painting and you can sense that the painting is on the verge of slipping from her grip. Seeing her lift the painting high above her head, as if she is about to throw You hear a loud crash as she slams it down on the cold and unforgiving stone floor. As Variel's art crashes to the ground, the sound of splintering wood fills the air, and the once-beautiful canvas lies tattered and torn on the cold and unforgiving stone floor. With a surge of emotion, Variel brings her foot down and twists it with a fierce determination, the vibrant oils mixing together and turning into a chaotic smudge of colors. "I HATE IT!" she screams, her voice raw with anger and frustration, as if the art itself had wronged her. You stand there in shock, witnessing the sudden and abrupt destruction of her precious work. Each slam of her foot on the ruined canvas sends shivers down your spine, as if you can feel the weight of her emotions echoing through the room. Grinding the painting into the ground to dust, as if she wants to erase it from existence. You try to approach her to speak reason and calm her down. "Variel! Calm Down!" but she is already walking towards her other artworks, threatening to destroy them as well. Rushing towards her and trying to grab her arms, to pull her away from the other paintings. However, she is too strong for you, too angry, too desperate. She pushes you back with a force that surprises you. Losing your balance and falling backwards, hitting your head on the wall. You see stars and feel a sharp pain in your skull. She stops and looks at you, as if she just realized what she did. She sees you lying on the floor, holding your head, groaning in pain. She sees the blood trickling down your forehead, staining your hair and clothes. She sees the fear and confusion in your eyes, as you stare at her in disbelief. Dropping to her knees and covering her face with her hands. She starts to sob, uncontrollably and loudly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She repeats it over and over again, as if it is a mantra that can undo what she has done. As Athos rushes to your side, you can feel his warm breath panting against your face, his concern evident in his whimpers. "Are you alright?" he asks, his muzzle leaning close to yours as he assesses your condition. "I'm fine," you reply, wincing as the world around you continues to spin and the blood seeps from your wounds. You try to push yourself up with one hand on the floor, but your body fails you, and you sink back down, feeling weak and helpless. “I’m sorry, I should have helped you,” he says. "Here!" Variel's worried voice echoes, and you see her scampering towards you. She brings her arm close to you, and a soft, green glow starts to emanate from her hand. The warm light envelops your injuries, and you can feel the healing energy seeping into your body. However, as Variel works her magic, you notice her face contorting with pain and discomfort. The curse mark on her chest grows larger and more pronounced, its purple glow wild and untamed. Her hands tremble, but she clenches her teeth, determined to push through the pain to heal you. After a few moments, your injuries have mended, and you can't help but feel grateful for Variel's power and sacrifice. But as the green glow subsides, Variel starts to cough, and you see a trace of blood on her lips. Panic rises within you, and you reach out to support her, concerned for her well-being. "Variel, are you alright?" you ask, worry lacing your voice. She covers her mouth, and you see more blood trickling down from her nose. The sight sends a chill down your spine, and you know that her healing has taken a toll on her own health. "Do you-" you are about to ask Variel how she is feeling, but she cuts you off with a sharp gesture. She removes your arm from her shoulder and stands up, despite her shaky legs. She wipes her nose with her fingers, smearing the blood on her skin. “I can manage, just need to rest!” she says, her voice harsh and impatient. She glares at you, as if she wants you to leave her alone. You feel hurt and confused by her attitude, but you also understand that she is in pain and distress. You want to help her, but you don’t know how. You wonder if you should stay or go, if you should say something or keep quiet. Athos positions himself near you, offering his body as aid. He looks at you with concern and sympathy, as he says, “Here, use me as support.” He nudges your hand with his nose, inviting you to lean on him. He helps you get up from the floor, as he says, “You’re still weak from the injury. You need to rest too.” You thank him and put your hand on his fur, feeling his warmth and softness. He guides you towards the door, as he says, “Let’s go to your room. I’ll stay with you until you feel better.” Variel hears him and quickly changes her mind. She doesn’t want to be left alone with her thoughts and feelings. She wants Athos to stay with her, to comfort her and distract her. She says, “Wait, Athos. You can stay here with me.” She looks at you and says, “But you have to go. I don’t want you here.” She sounds rude and ungrateful, but you can also hear the fear and sadness in her voice. You are stunned and hurt by her words, but you also realize that she is not herself. Wondering if there is anything you can do to help her, to break the curse, to heal her wounds. Pondering if she will ever be the same again. Taking a deep breath, inhaling the scent of sweat and fear that permeates the room. "Variel," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Are you sure you're okay?" She looks away from you before continuing in a low, rough voice. "I told you, I just need to rest. You don't have to stay here." she insists, her impatience and frustration evident in her voice. Her words cut through you like a knife, and you feel your eyes begin to sting with unshed tears. You take a step back, away from her, and try to compose yourself. The silence in the room is deafening, broken only by the sound of Athos' footsteps as he moves to keep Variel steady. You can hear the rasp of his breath as he carries her weight, and you feel a pang of envy at their closeness. They seem so comfortable with one another, while you're left feeling like an outsider. Looking at Athos, feeling torn between wanting to stay and support Variel and feeling hurt by her dismissal. Athos looks back at you with understanding and compassion in his eyes. "I'll stay with Empress Variel," he says with a nod of his head, "You go rest." Reluctantly, you nod, realizing that pushing further will only cause more tension. You give Variel one last worried look before making your way out of her room, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you. Outside the room, you take a moment to collect yourself. The events of the day have left you physically and emotionally drained, and you can't help but worry about Variel's well-being. But you also know that she needs some space, and perhaps time alone will help her process everything that has happened. As you walk away, you can't help but feel a sense of longing to be by Variel's side, to comfort her and reassure her that everything will be okay. But for now, all you can do is wait and hope that she will reach out to you when she's ready. [[Next|Variel, Athos Pep Talk]]

You edge closer to her, your heart hammering in your chest, hoping to calm her with your presence. You have witnessed her suffer before, but never this much. She is a mere shell of who she once was, a shattered soul that has been discarded by the world. You wonder what horrors she has endured, what nightmares plague her mind. “Variel, how are you?” you inquire gently, your voice laced with genuine concern. You extend your hand, attempting to touch her softly, but she recoils from you, as if your touch scalds her flesh. She stares at you with wide eyes, full of fear and distrust. She bites her lip, trying to stifle a cry that threatens to escape her mouth. She shuts her eyes, taking a deep breath, and finally lets you grasp her hand. You feel her hand shake in yours, cold and damp. “I’m fine!” she insists, her voice breaking as she opens her eyes. She forces a smile on her face, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. The fear is still there, along with something else. Something darker. Something that makes you shudder. The silence between you is oppressive, each second laden with the burden of your history. You examine her closely, noticing every detail. Her posture is stiff and guarded, leaning away from you slightly, as if ready to flee at any moment. Her eyes dart around the room, looking for any sign of danger, while her whole body is on edge. You feel a surge of mixed emotions within you. Anger at the thing who did this to her, sadness for the loss of the girl you once knew, and empathy for the pain she is going through. The smell of terror hangs in the air, mingling with the dust and mold of the hallway, creating a suffocating atmosphere that makes you want to scream. "So, what brings the both of you here?" Her inquiry pierces the air, a gentle curiosity tinted with the weight of her recent ordeal. The warmth of her hand slips from your grasp, leaving an absence that sends a shiver through your skin, a stark reminder of the sudden chill in the room. You lower your hand, letting it fall to your side in response to her withdrawal. //"We're worried for you, Empress!"// Athos steps forward, his voice carrying the undercurrents of genuine concern that thread through their purpose here. His words are a shield, a shield meant to protect her fragile state. Variel, the Empress, composes herself, her previously frazzled demeanor giving way to a semblance of calm. She chuckles weakly, attempting to mask the nervousness that lingers just beneath the surface. "Thank you for your concern, but you need not worry," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. The sound of it sends shivers down your spine, as if it carries the weight of a thousand unspoken secrets. Suddenly, Variel gasps, her hand flying to her chest in shock. "Where are my manners? Please, come into my room," she gestures with a flourish, her movements graceful yet tinged with a sense of urgency. She steps aside, allowing the two of you passage, but her eyes remain fixed on you, searching for answers and solace. Following her into her quarters, feeling Athos’ curious gaze on your back. You take in the sight of her room, trying to distract yourself from the turmoil in your chest. Seeing papers and a stylus lying on the ground, where an unfinished drawing lays. It looks like a sketch of a flower, blooming into deep crimson and pink shades, merging into one beautiful art. You wonder what it means, what inspired her to draw it. A table on the side of the door, the one she used to barricade the door. It is covered with books and notes, some open and some closed. You don't recognize some of the titles, symbols and spells litter the pages, guessing that Variel is looking for a way to revert the binding spell that was cast against her by the specter. Pots of flowers lined arrange on the corner, adding a touch of color and life to the room. You smell their fragrance, sweet and fresh, like the meadows and the daisies. You remember how she used to be more at ease on the free and open out door and you wish to see that side of hers once more. A bed lie on the other side of the room, clean and orderly. The sheets are white and soft, inviting you to lie down with her and forget everything else. You imagine how it would feel to hold her in your arms again and lay together on the soft and plush mattress with her by your side. ''//If she only allows it that is!//'' As Athos' pawsteps echo through the room, you snap out of your reverie, realizing that you've been standing at the center of Variel's quarters lost in thought. Her concerned and curious gaze meets yours, and her voice, soft and melodic, fills the air like a soothing melody. "Is everything all right?" she asks, her concern evident. Feeling a hint of dizziness, the combination of Variel's ethereal beauty and the warmth of her voice causing your head to spin. "Y-yes," you stutter, feeling a bit embarrassed at being caught in your thoughts. "Everything's fine." you feel a sudden urge to swoon into her arms, to feel her embrace you again. Turning around to face her and your breath catches in your throat, you try to regain your composure. But it's difficult to focus when every fiber of your being is captivated by her presence. As you take in the details of her room, you feel a sense of melancholy, knowing that this might be the last time you see it like this. Variel's retreat into isolation weighs heavily on your heart. Despite the adrenaline and determination that drove you to seek her out, now that you're face-to-face with her, that excitement fades, leaving you feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed. Her voice, like a gentle caress, makes your heart skip a beat, and you find yourself wanting to be closer to her. Finally noticing the dress she's wearing, a garment that seems to hide more than it reveals. It's as if Variel is afraid to show her true self to the world, keeping her features and appearance concealed from prying eyes. Yet even through the layers, the curves of her body are still alluring, teasing your imagination. You can’t help but admire her beauty, even though you know she is hiding behind layers of fabric. Yet, your eyes are drawn to the purple glowing curve mark on her chest, a haunting reminder of the phantom's extraction of her essence. It serves as a painful testament to the trauma she endured and the burden she carries. The mark seems to bind her, like a curse she cannot escape. You are aware of the room around you, the subtle details that make it hers. You inhale the faint scent of lavender, soothing your senses. You hear the soft rustling of papers, hinting at her creative mind. You feel the gentle creaking of the wooden floor beneath your feet, grounding you in reality. Variel’s presence fills the space with a quiet grace, like the calm after a storm. You can’t take your eyes off her chest, where the purple glow of the curse mark is. It is a cruel reminder of what she has suffered, what she has lost, what she has become. You wish you could erase it, make it disappear, make her whole again. She notices your stare, and puts a hand on her chest, as if to hide the mark from you. She looks at you with a mix of shame and defiance, as if she is challenging you to say something. You quickly meet her eyes, and apologize. “I’m sorry,” you say, feeling a pang of guilt. “I didn’t mean to stare.” Her hand remains on her chest, now clenched into a fist, as if trying to protect herself from your scrutiny. You can sense the pain and turmoil within her, and it breaks your heart to see her this way. All you wanted was to help her, to understand her, but it seems like every step forward is met with resistance. In that moment, you feel a glimmer of hope, believing that Variel might be opening up to you, allowing you to see the real her. But just as quickly, that hope is shattered, like a flame extinguished in the wind. Variel's hand falls to her side, and her shoulders slump in defeat. Realizing that this journey to bring Variel back from her isolation and pain won't be easy. Her experiences have left deep scars, and you must tread carefully, mindful of the delicate balance between curiosity and respect. She gestures to the couch and chairs that occupy the center of the room, inviting you to sit down. You oblige, taking a seat on the couch on your side Athos sit on the floor. Variel takes a seat on an ornate chair maintaining a polite distance, her posture straight and regal, yet her eyes betray a weariness that no person should bear alone. Her gaze shifts between the two of you. "Tell me, do you need some water? Perhaps some treats?" her voice falters, a crack in the facade of her composure Guilt and concern intertwine within you. You came here with intentions of offering solace, yet the atmosphere is laced with an awkward uncertainty. How do you navigate such raw emotions, such traumatic experiences? You want to ease her pain, to mend what's been shattered, but words can feel inadequate against the backdrop of her suffering. //"We're fine, Variel. No need to bother yourself."// Your voice carries a gentle reassurance, but you know the sentiment falls short of encompassing the depth of your care. Clearing your throat, you take a breath and strive for casualness amidst the gravity of the situation. //"We wanted to see how you're doing,"// you venture, your gaze never straying far from hers. //"How are you feeling?"// Her shoulders lift in a dismissive shrug, her delicate hand waving away concern like a fleeting breeze. //"I'm fine,"// she asserts, though the falsehood rings clear in her voice. //"It's nothing I can't handle."// Her attention shifts to the room around her, where the walls bear witness to her creative endeavors. Vibrant canvases capture emotions, sculptures convey stories, and sketches lay bare fragments of her soul. //"This keeps me busy,"// she continues, a wistful note in her tone. //"It helps me express myself, you know? It's therapeutic."// You nod and look around, admiring her creativity and talent. You see vibrant colors, intricate details, and powerful emotions in her creations. You wonder what they mean, what they represent, what they reveal about her inner world. You want to ask her about them, to learn more about her thoughts and feelings, but you also sense that some of them might be too personal or painful to talk about. Amongst the masterpieces, a particular parchment draws your attention. It rests upon a small table, a solitary fragment of her expression. Her watchful gaze is a constant presence, a reminder that your presence is acknowledged. With gentle curiosity, you reach for the parchment, aware that every movement is observed. Carefully cradling it, you begin to read, the words capturing your interest. ''//The Fallen Dragon//'' ''//I was once a mighty dragon, Ruling over land and sky, Breathing fire and fear upon All who dared to cross my eye. I was proud and fierce and strong, None could match my power or grace, I was revered in song and story, The undisputed queen of my race. But then came a phantom in the night, A shadow that stole my very soul, It took away my inner light, And left me broken and unwhole. It took from me what made me me, A fraction of my being and essence, It left me weak and blind and empty, A victim of its cruel transgression. Now I am nothing but a fallen dragon, Cast from my throne, I plummeted low, Once mighty wings now hung in woe, The skies once loyal turned their gaze, Whispers of pity, a haunting maze. Mockery danced in laughter's embrace, As I faltered and stumbled in disgrace, My roar now echoes of what was, A fallen empress, broken because. I am forgotten in song and story, The fallen dragon with no relief.' A dragon filled with so much grief//'' Did you make this?" you inquire, still in awe and deeply moved by the words on the parchment. Variel rises from her chair, her gaze fixed on the paper in your hands, her indifference replaced by a hint of melancholy. "I did," she affirms, stepping closer until she's in front of you. She gestures for the parchment, and you hand it to her. "It reminds me of my old self," she says, her tone tinged with sadness. Then, her hands start to emit smoke, flames flickering to life and consuming the parchment. "It reminds me of the things I held dear and how I failed to protect them with my life," she adds bitterly, the mark on her chest glowing brighter. You watch as her hands start to smoke, small flames flickering around her fingers. The parchment catches fire, burning rapidly in her grasp. She doesn’t flinch or scream, she just stares at the flames with a hollow look in her eyes. You and Athos abruptly stand from your seats, concern etched across your faces. "Variel, calm down!" you implore, attempting to pacify her. But her eyes blaze with a fury that matches the fire in her hands, and she starts to move toward a table adorned with her other creations, waiting to be scorched. "Variel, stop!" you urgently try to block her path, but she doesn’t seem to hear you, she just sidesteps over you and walking towards the table where more of her creations are displayed. They are all beautiful and unique, each one reflecting a different aspect of her personality and history. You can see poems, paintings, sculptures, songs, stories, and more. You can’t bear to see them destroyed by her rage. "I hate it! I despise myself!" Variel's hands grow even brighter and hotter. "I'm so weak and useless!" She continues to approach the table, her anger consuming her. "Variel!" you shout, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to stop her. Your hand lands on hers, and she instinctively tries to pull it away, forgetting that her hands are blazing. "Let go of—" You feel a jolt of pain as your skin touches hers. Her hand is scorching hot, like an iron rod. You let go of her hand instinctively, recoiling in agony. You clutch your hand to your chest, feeling the skin blister and peel. You scream in pain, tears streaming down your face. She looks at you with shock and horror, realizing what she has done. She drops the parchment, which falls to the floor in ashes. She covers her mouth with her other hand, gasping for air. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammers, her eyes wide with fear. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You find yourself in a state of unbearable agony, your voice stolen from you, leaving you with only writhing and convulsing as a means to express your pain. In the midst of your suffering, "<<print $player_name>>!" rushes to your side, his presence offering a glimmer of comfort. Whimpering softly, he tries to console you by nuzzling his muzzle against your arm. Kneeling down beside you, Variel's hand extends towards your trembling form. As her hand hovers above you, a searing energy emanates from her touch. The air crackles with a green hue, and suddenly, your cries of anguish transform into sobs, then gradually fade to a hush. You feel the excruciating heat dissipate, replaced by a cooling sensation that spreads through your body. Opening your eyes, you cautiously inspect your skin, which has miraculously returned to its normal color. Closing and reopening your hand, you sense no trace of the torment that had consumed you moments ago. Relief washes over you like a tidal wave, and you marvel at the rapid restoration of your physical being. However, a sudden cough interrupts the tranquility of the moment. Your gaze shifts to Variel, who is now wheezing, her hand pressed against her mouth. The sight of blood staining her lips and hand sends shockwaves through your already overwhelmed senses. Panic ripples through your veins as you realize the sacrifice she made to alleviate your suffering. "Variel," you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible amidst the tumultuous emotions swirling within you. "What have you done? Why did you take my pain upon yourself?" She struggles to respond, her voice strained and weak. "This my fault and I couldn't bear to see you in agony. I... I had to help you, no matter the cost." another cough racks her being much more worse than the last. "Variel, are you alright?" you ask, worry lacing your voice. She covers her mouth, and you see more blood trickling down from her nose. The sight sends a chill down your spine, and you know that her healing has taken a toll on her own health. "Do you-" you are about to ask Variel how she is feeling, but she cuts you off with a sharp gesture. She tries to stand up, despite her shaky legs. She wipes her nose with her fingers, smearing the blood on her skin. “I can manage, just need to rest!” she says, her voice harsh and impatient. She glares at you, as if she wants you to leave her alone. You feel hurt and confused by her attitude, but you also understand that she is in pain and distress. You want to help her, but you don’t know how. You wonder if you should stay or go, if you should say something or keep quiet. Athos positions himself near you, offering his body as aid. He looks at you with concern and sympathy, as he says, “Here, use me as support.” He nudges your hand with his nose, inviting you to lean on him. He helps you get up from the floor, as he says, “You’re still weak from the injury. You need to rest too.” You thank him and put your hand on his fur, feeling his warmth and softness. He guides you towards the door, as he says, “Let’s go to your room. I’ll stay with you until you feel better.” Variel hears him and quickly changes her mind. She doesn’t want to be left alone with her thoughts and feelings. She wants Athos to stay with her, to comfort her and distract her. She says, “Wait, Athos. You can stay here with me.” She looks at you and says, “But you have to go. I don’t want you here.” She sounds rude and ungrateful, but you can also hear the fear and sadness in her voice. You are stunned and hurt by her words, but you also realize that she is not herself. Wondering if there is anything you can do to help her, to break the curse, to heal her wounds. Pondering if she will ever be the same again. Taking a deep breath, inhaling the scent of sweat and fear that permeates the room. "Variel," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Are you sure you're okay?" She looks away from you before continuing in a low, rough voice. "I told you, I just need to rest. You don't have to stay here." she insists, her impatience and frustration evident in her voice. Her words cut through you like a knife, and you feel your eyes begin to sting with unshed tears. You take a step back, away from her, and try to compose yourself. The silence in the room is deafening, broken only by the sound of Athos' footsteps as he moves to keep Variel steady. You can hear the rasp of his breath as he carries her weight, and you feel a pang of envy at their closeness. They seem so comfortable with one another, while you're left feeling like an outsider. Looking at Athos, feeling torn between wanting to stay and support Variel and feeling hurt by her dismissal. Athos looks back at you with understanding and compassion in his eyes. "I'll stay with Empress Variel," he says with a nod of his head, "You go rest." Reluctantly, you nod, realizing that pushing further will only cause more tension. You give Variel one last worried look before making your way out of her room, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you. Outside the room, you take a moment to collect yourself. The events of the day have left you physically and emotionally drained, and you can't help but worry about Variel's well-being. But you also know that she needs some space, and perhaps time alone will help her process everything that has happened. As you walk away, you can't help but feel a sense of longing to be by Variel's side, to comfort her and reassure her that everything will be okay. But for now, all you can do is wait and hope that she will reach out to you when she's ready. [[Next|Variel, Athos Pep Talk]]

Before you stands the person you've longed to see, a vision that felt like a dream. You can hardly believe your eyes as you see her standing there. She is the one you have been looking for, the one you have been dreaming of, the one you have been longing for. Your mind urges you to approach her, to close the distance between you. Your body craves to touch her, to feel her warmth and softness. Your heart yearns to embrace her, to comfort her and protect her. But you restrain yourself, knowing that she is fragile and scared. You don’t want to frighten her away, not when you are so close to helping her and giving her the support that she needs in these dark times. You stay where you are, watching her from afar, admiring her beauty and courage. You see the pain and sadness in her eyes, the scars and bruises on her skin, the fear and uncertainty in her posture. You feel a surge of anger and sorrow for what she has been through, what she has endured, what she has survived. You wish you could take away all her troubles, all her worries, all her nightmares. You wish you could make her happy, make her smile, make her laugh. You wait for a sign, a signal, a gesture from her. You wait for her to notice you, to acknowledge you, to welcome you. You wait for her to trust you, to open up to you. "<<print $player_name>> and Athos!"she greets the two of you and nodding her head with respect. A single word escapes your lips, laden with uncertainty and longing, "Variel?" Her name hangs in the air, like a prayer whispered in a sacred place, as you try to grapple with the reality of her presence. Could it truly be her? Or was this a cruel illusion, a mirage created to toy with your senses, to stoke the fires of hope? Her response, a simple "Yes," carries the weight of the world. It's a confirmation that both soothes your soul and tightens the knot of uncertainty in your chest. Her eyes, filled with curiosity and perhaps a hint of apprehension, meet yours. As your loyal companion Athos breaks the silence, you feel a rush of gratitude for his steadiness.He spoke up, his voice carrying a weight of genuine worry. "Empress, we came here to see if you're alright and ensure that everything is well." His words hung in the air, pregnant with concern and a desire to protect. You watched, captivated, as her gaze shifted downward, meeting the concerned eyes of Athos. Variel's reassuring voice broke the silence, attempting to calm the fears that plagued your mind. "I'm fine, Athos," she said, her words dripping with comforting warmth. But despite her reassurances, an unease still lingered within you. Her words alone were not enough to dispel the shadows of doubt that clung to your thoughts. You knew that words could be deceptive, that they could mask the truth, conceal lies. You had learned this lesson the hard way, time and again. It was for this reason that you yearned for something more tangible, something that you could trust. "You sure?" you pressed her gently. “I’m fine, trully!” she insists, her voice breaking as she sighs. She forces a smile on her face, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. The fear is still there, along with something else. Something darker. Something that makes you shudder. The silence between you is oppressive, each second laden with the burden of your history. You examine her closely, noticing every detail. Her posture is stiff and guarded, leaning away from you slightly, as if ready to flee at any moment. Her eyes dart around the room, looking for any sign of danger, while her whole body is on edge. You feel a surge of mixed emotions within you. Anger at the thing who did this to her, sadness for the loss of the girl you once knew, and empathy for the pain she is going through. The smell of terror hangs in the air, mingling with the dust and mold of the hallway, creating a suffocating atmosphere that makes you want to scream. "So, what brings the both of you here?" Her inquiry pierces the air, a gentle curiosity tinted with the weight of her recent ordeal. The warmth of her hand slips from your grasp, leaving an absence that sends a shiver through your skin, a stark reminder of the sudden chill in the room. You lower your hand, letting it fall to your side in response to her withdrawal. //"We're worried for you, Empress!"// Athos steps forward, his voice carrying the undercurrents of genuine concern that thread through their purpose here. His words are a shield, a shield meant to protect her fragile state. Variel, the Empress, composes herself, her previously frazzled demeanor giving way to a semblance of calm. She chuckles weakly, attempting to mask the nervousness that lingers just beneath the surface. "Thank you for your concern, but you need not worry," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. The sound of it sends shivers down your spine, as if it carries the weight of a thousand unspoken secrets. Suddenly, Variel gasps, her hand flying to her chest in shock. "Where are my manners? Please, come into my room," she gestures with a flourish, her movements graceful yet tinged with a sense of urgency. She steps aside, allowing the two of you passage, but her eyes remain fixed on you, searching for answers and solace. Following her into her quarters, feeling Athos’ curious gaze on your back. You take in the sight of her room, trying to distract yourself from the turmoil in your chest. Seeing papers and a stylus lying on the ground, where an unfinished drawing lays. It looks like a sketch of a flower, blooming into deep crimson and pink shades, merging into one beautiful art. You wonder what it means, what inspired her to draw it. A table on the side of the door, the one she used to barricade the door. It is covered with books and notes, some open and some closed. You don't recognize some of the titles, symbols and spells litter the pages, guessing that Variel is looking for a way to revert the binding spell that was cast against her by the specter. Pots of flowers lined arrange on the corner, adding a touch of color and life to the room. You smell their fragrance, sweet and fresh, like the meadows and the daisies. You remember how she used to be more at ease on the free and open out door and you wish to see that side of hers once more. A bed lie on the other side of the room, clean and orderly. The sheets are white and soft, inviting you to lie down with her and forget everything else. You imagine how it would feel to hold her in your arms again and lay together on the soft and plush mattress with her by your side. ''//If she only allows it that is!//'' As Athos' pawsteps echo through the room, you snap out of your reverie, realizing that you've been standing at the center of Variel's quarters lost in thought. Her concerned and curious gaze meets yours, and her voice, soft and melodic, fills the air like a soothing melody. "Is everything all right?" she asks, her concern evident. Feeling a hint of dizziness, the combination of Variel's ethereal beauty and the warmth of her voice causing your head to spin. "Y-yes," you stutter, feeling a bit embarrassed at being caught in your thoughts. "Everything's fine." you feel a sudden urge to swoon into her arms, to feel her embrace you again. Turning around to face her and your breath catches in your throat, you try to regain your composure. But it's difficult to focus when every fiber of your being is captivated by her presence. As you take in the details of her room, you feel a sense of melancholy, knowing that this might be the last time you see it like this. Variel's retreat into isolation weighs heavily on your heart. Despite the adrenaline and determination that drove you to seek her out, now that you're face-to-face with her, that excitement fades, leaving you feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed. Her voice, like a gentle caress, makes your heart skip a beat, and you find yourself wanting to be closer to her. Finally noticing the dress she's wearing, a garment that seems to hide more than it reveals. It's as if Variel is afraid to show her true self to the world, keeping her features and appearance concealed from prying eyes. Yet even through the layers, the curves of her body are still alluring, teasing your imagination. You can’t help but admire her beauty, even though you know she is hiding behind layers of fabric. Yet, your eyes are drawn to the purple glowing curve mark on her chest, a haunting reminder of the phantom's extraction of her essence. It serves as a painful testament to the trauma she endured and the burden she carries. The mark seems to bind her, like a curse she cannot escape. You are aware of the room around you, the subtle details that make it hers. You inhale the faint scent of lavender, soothing your senses. You hear the soft rustling of papers, hinting at her creative mind. You feel the gentle creaking of the wooden floor beneath your feet, grounding you in reality. Variel’s presence fills the space with a quiet grace, like the calm after a storm. You can’t take your eyes off her chest, where the purple glow of the curse mark is. It is a cruel reminder of what she has suffered, what she has lost, what she has become. You wish you could erase it, make it disappear, make her whole again. She notices your stare, and puts a hand on her chest, as if to hide the mark from you. She looks at you with a mix of shame and defiance, as if she is challenging you to say something. You quickly meet her eyes, and apologize. “I’m sorry,” you say, feeling a pang of guilt. “I didn’t mean to stare.” Her hand remains on her chest, now clenched into a fist, as if trying to protect herself from your scrutiny. You can sense the pain and turmoil within her, and it breaks your heart to see her this way. All you wanted was to help her, to understand her, but it seems like every step forward is met with resistance. In that moment, you feel a glimmer of hope, believing that Variel might be opening up to you, allowing you to see the real her. But just as quickly, that hope is shattered, like a flame extinguished in the wind. Variel's hand falls to her side, and her shoulders slump in defeat. Realizing that this journey to bring Variel back from her isolation and pain won't be easy. Her experiences have left deep scars, and you must tread carefully, mindful of the delicate balance between curiosity and respect. She gestures to the couch and chairs that occupy the center of the room, inviting you to sit down. You oblige, taking a seat on the couch on your side Athos sit on the floor. Variel takes a seat on an ornate chair maintaining a polite distance, her posture straight and regal, yet her eyes betray a weariness that no person should bear alone. Her gaze shifts between the two of you. "Tell me, do you need some water? Perhaps some treats?" her voice falters, a crack in the facade of her composure Guilt and concern intertwine within you. You came here with intentions of offering solace, yet the atmosphere is laced with an awkward uncertainty. How do you navigate such raw emotions, such traumatic experiences? You want to ease her pain, to mend what's been shattered, but words can feel inadequate against the backdrop of her suffering. //"We're fine, Variel. No need to bother yourself."// Your voice carries a gentle reassurance, but you know the sentiment falls short of encompassing the depth of your care. Clearing your throat, you take a breath and strive for casualness amidst the gravity of the situation. //"We wanted to see how you're doing,"// you venture, your gaze never straying far from hers. //"How are you feeling?"// Her shoulders lift in a dismissive shrug, her delicate hand waving away concern like a fleeting breeze. //"I'm fine,"// she asserts, though the falsehood rings clear in her voice. //"It's nothing I can't handle."// Her attention shifts to the room around her, where the walls bear witness to her creative endeavors. Vibrant canvases capture emotions, sculptures convey stories, and sketches lay bare fragments of her soul. //"This keeps me busy,"// she continues, a wistful note in her tone. //"It helps me express myself, you know? It's therapeutic."// You nod and look around, admiring her creativity and talent. You see vibrant colors, intricate details, and powerful emotions in her creations. You wonder what they mean, what they represent, what they reveal about her inner world. You want to ask her about them, to learn more about her thoughts and feelings, but you also sense that some of them might be too personal or painful to talk about. Amongst the masterpieces, a particular small woodcraft caught your attention. It rests upon a small table, a solitary fragment of her expression. Her watchful gaze is a constant presence, a reminder that your presence is acknowledged. With gentle curiosity, you reach for the carving, aware that every movement is observed. Carefully cradling it, you begin to move it the wooden minature dragon object in your hand checking it at every angle. You are amazed by the craftsmanship and the beauty of the woodcraft. It is a dragon with wings spread wide, as if ready to take flight. The dragon has scales carved with meticulous precision, each one reflecting the light in different shades of brown. The dragon has horns that curve elegantly, eyes that sparkle with intelligence, and teeth that gleam with ferocity. The dragon has a tail that coils around its body, creating a sense of balance and harmony. The dragon has a personality that radiates from its form, a mixture of grace and power. As you turn the sculpture in your hand, the wood emits a faint, earthy scent, transporting you to a distant forest. The aroma fills your senses, evoking a sense of tranquility and mystery. You can almost feel the dampness of the forest floor beneath your feet and hear the rustling of leaves in the wind. As you continue to study the wooden dragon, you can't help but wonder about its significance. What does it mean to Variel? What emotions and memories are etched into its form? As if reading your mind a voice breaks through the silence, pulling you back to reality. It is soft, yet filled with a quiet intensity. "That dragon holds a special meaning," the artist says, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "It represents the struggles and challenges I've faced in my life. Each stroke of the carving tells a story, a chapter of my journey." You look up to meet the artist's gaze, seeing a mix of vulnerability and strength in her eyes. "It's a reminder to always persevere, to find courage in the face of adversity," she continues. "Every time I look at it, I remember how far I've come and how much I've grown." As you sit there, captivated by Variel's words, you find yourself drawn into her world. The artist's voice resonates with a weight of experience, each word meticulously chosen to convey the depths of life's complexities. Her voice carries a haunting melody, filled with sorrow and longing, as she shares her story. Slowly, Variel rises from her chair, her eyes fixated on the wooden object in your hand. With a graceful gesture, she silently requests it, and you oblige, handing it over to her. As her fingers graze the smooth surface, a flicker of sadness dances across her face. "Yes," she whispers, her voice tinged with melancholy, "it also reminds me of how I used to be." Her words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. You can sense the weight of her past, the burden of a heritage lost and a soul stripped bare. It's as if the wooden object holds within it the echoes of a forgotten time, a reminder of the pain she has endured. Suddenly, Variel's voice rises, her tone filled with intensity. "IT REMINDS ME OF HOW I WAS STRIPPED OF MY HERITAGE AND SOUL!" she exclaims, her words cutting through the stillness of the room like a knife. The raw emotion in her voice sends shivers down your spine, and you instinctively flinch at the suddenness of her outburst. In a fit of anguish, Variel hurls the wooden object towards the wall. The impact reverberates through the room, causing the wood to splinter and shatter, fragments flying in every direction. It's as if the force of her anger has physically manifested, tearing apart the very fabric of her past. As the dust settles, you take in the scene before you. The once-sturdy wood now lies broken and fragmented, a visual representation of Variel's shattered heritage. The air hangs heavy with the scent of freshly splintered wood, a sharp and acrid smell that lingers in your nostrils. Variel's voice, now trembling with a tumultuous mix of anger and sorrow, shatters the heavy silence. "It's what it did to me," she whispers, her words like fragile glass, ready to break at any moment. "It tore me apart, piece by piece, until there was nothing left." Her words hang in the air, heavy with a profound sadness that tugs at your heartstrings. The room, once a sanctuary of creativity, feels like a battlefield of emotions. Variel's voice rises, a manic edge to her laughter as she gestures wildly around the room, indicating her creations. "ALL THESE!" she cries out, her voice cracking with bitterness. "WHO AM I KIDDING WHEN I'M SAYING IT'S THERAPEUTIC!" Her laughter turns hollow, a stark contrast to the once-vibrant energy of the room. You and Athos exchange concerned glances, both aware that Variel's emotions are spiraling out of control. "IT'S ALL A DAMN LIE!" Variel exclaims, her rage intensifying. She snatches up another sculpture, this one depicting a fierce warrior, and hurls it to the ground with a resounding crash. The room seems to shake with the force of her anger. You can see that Variel is on the brink of a destructive rampage, ready to wreak havoc on her own masterpieces if left unchecked. Fear courses through you, knowing that you must intervene to prevent further damage. "Variel, please, calm down!" you shout urgently, your voice filled with concern for her well-being. "I CAN'T! Not after all I've lost!" Her words are thick with anguish, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I've lost so much - my parents, my home, my entire life. And now, I'm trapped here, in this hellhole, cursed by that vile spirit, cursed to be weak and useless!" You can't bear to see her suffer like this any longer. You approach her slowly, your hands raised in a placating gesture. "Let me help you," you say gently, hoping she will listen to reason. "We can work through this together, I promise." Her eyes meet yours, a flicker of hope crossing her face. But just as quickly, her expression hardens, and she turns away. "There's no point," she says bitterly. "No one can save me now. Not even you." You know it's not true. There's still a chance to help her. You can't give up on her - not yet. "Don't say that, Variel. We can do this. Trust me." She shakes her head, her shoulders slumped in defeat. "It's too late. I've lost everything. My dreams, my hopes, my future. All gone." "Don't give up, Variel. There's always a way." You put a hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her. She looks up at you, her eyes brimming with tears. "I want to help you. But I can't do it alone. You need to work with me. Trust me." There you stand, your arms outstretched in a gesture of empathy, offering your aid to Variel in her time of torment. But she doesn't reciprocate your gesture. Instead, her voice cuts through the air like a blade. "GET OUT!" she screams, her words echoing through the room. Confusion washes over you. "What?" you stammer, utterly bewildered by her sudden outburst. "GET OUT!" Variel's voice rises even louder, her eyes wild with anger and despair. You can't comprehend why she's reacting this way. "Variel, please, don't do this," you implore, your voice trembling with concern. "Don't do what?" Her voice drips with bitterness. "What I want? What I feel? I've had enough of this! I've lost everything, and now you want to take away my sanity, my peace too. Well, not anymore!" Her anger simmers, a volcano ready to erupt at any moment. "Variel, you're not thinking clearly. Let's just talk about this," you plead. You see her anger rising like a volcano ready to erupt. Her hands burst into flames and the mark on her chest glows a purple hue. You see blood trickling down her nose and despite her face contorting into fury, you can see her wincing in pain. “I have had enough of this and I will not take it anymore. You need to leave now!” she yells. You can’t believe what you’re seeing. Her body is radiating heat, the fire burning brighter than any you’ve seen before. She looks like a demon straight from hell. “Variel, please. This isn’t you. You’re not yourself right now,” you say, hoping to calm her down. She takes a step towards you, her eyes blazing with anger. “You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me,” she says, rejecting your words. “That’s not true. I want to help you,” you say, reaching out to her. She screams “Shut up…shut up…shut up!” She moves closer, her hands still burning hot. You can feel the heat radiating off her skin, the air around her shimmering with the intensity of her power. You look into her eyes, trying to reach her, but there’s no sign of recognition. She’s lost in her rage, consumed by it. She scoffs at your suggestion, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Talk? That's all you ever want to do! You think words can fix everything, but they can't. They can't bring back my parents, my home, my life! And they certainly can't save me from this curse!" Your heart aches for her, but you refuse to give up. "I know it's hard, but we can figure it out together. Just give me a chance, Variel. Please." "ENOUGH!" Her voice quakes with resentment. "If you won't listen to me, maybe brute force will persuade you!" Her hands now a burning torch that seems to increase in size and tempreature as the seconds ticks by and the mark on her chest seems to come alive even more it pulses and writhes on her skin glowing in a purple hue. "I've had enough of this, and I will not take it anymore. You need to leave NOW!" she yells. Your disbelief is palpable. Variel's body radiates heat, her fire burning brighter and hotter than any you've ever witnessed. "Variel, please, this isn't you. You're not yourself right now." She takes a step closer, her eyes blazing with unbridled anger. The scorching heat radiating from her skin makes the air shimmer. You look deep into her eyes, desperately trying to reach her, but there's no sign of recognition. She's adrift in her fury, consumed by it. You know you have to do something to break through to her. "Variel, I'm here for you. I want to help you. Believe me." But she's deaf to your pleas, lost in her own world, a world where nothing makes sense, and all she knows is pain and despair. "I can't believe anyone anymore," she says, her voice cracking with anguish. "You're just like the rest of them - selfish, self-serving, only interested in your own agenda." Your heart aches at her words. You want to take away her pain, to heal her wounds, but you don't know how. "That's not true, Variel. I care about you. I want to see you happy and safe." Her eyes burn with rage as she looks at you. "Don't lie to me. Don't try to fool me with your false promises and empty words. I've had enough of it." She takes a step closer, the heat radiating off her skin making the air shimmer. "I've had enough of it!" she screams, her voice raw with fury. You can't bear to see her like this. You reach out to touch her arm, hoping to calm her down. "Variel, please." Your hand lands on hers, and she instinctively tries to pull it away, forgetting that her hands are blazing. "Let go of—" You feel a jolt of pain as your skin touches hers. Her hand is scorching hot, like an iron rod. You let go of her hand instinctively, recoiling in agony. You clutch your hand to your chest, feeling the skin blister and peel. You scream in pain, tears streaming down your face. She looks at you with shock and horror, realizing what she has done. She drops the parchment, which falls to the floor in ashes. She covers her mouth with her other hand, gasping for air. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammers, her eyes wide with fear. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You find yourself in a state of unbearable agony, your voice stolen from you, leaving you with only writhing and convulsing as a means to express your pain. In the midst of your suffering, "<<print $player_name>>!" rushes to your side, his presence offering a glimmer of comfort. Whimpering softly, he tries to console you by nuzzling his muzzle against your arm. Kneeling down beside you, Variel's hand extends towards your trembling form. As her hand hovers above you, a searing energy emanates from her touch. The air crackles with a green hue, and suddenly, your cries of anguish transform into sobs, then gradually fade to a hush. You feel the excruciating heat dissipate, replaced by a cooling sensation that spreads through your body. Opening your eyes, you cautiously inspect your skin, which has miraculously returned to its normal color. Closing and reopening your hand, you sense no trace of the torment that had consumed you moments ago. Relief washes over you like a tidal wave, and you marvel at the rapid restoration of your physical being. However, a sudden cough interrupts the tranquility of the moment. Your gaze shifts to Variel, who is now wheezing, her hand pressed against her mouth. The sight of blood staining her lips and hand sends shockwaves through your already overwhelmed senses. Panic ripples through your veins as you realize the sacrifice she made to alleviate your suffering. "Variel," you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible amidst the tumultuous emotions swirling within you. "What have you done? Why did you take my pain upon yourself?" She struggles to respond, her voice strained and weak. "This my fault and I couldn't bear to see you in agony. I... I had to help you, no matter the cost." another cough racks her being much more worse than the last. "Variel, are you alright?" you ask, worry lacing your voice. She covers her mouth, and you see more blood trickling down from her nose. The sight sends a chill down your spine, and you know that her healing has taken a toll on her own health. "Do you-" you are about to ask Variel how she is feeling, but she cuts you off with a sharp gesture. She tries to stand up, despite her shaky legs. She wipes her nose with her fingers, smearing the blood on her skin. “I can manage, just need to rest!” she says, her voice harsh and impatient. She glares at you, as if she wants you to leave her alone. You feel hurt and confused by her attitude, but you also understand that she is in pain and distress. You want to help her, but you don’t know how. You wonder if you should stay or go, if you should say something or keep quiet. Athos positions himself near you, offering his body as aid. He looks at you with concern and sympathy, as he says, “Here, use me as support.” He nudges your hand with his nose, inviting you to lean on him. He helps you get up from the floor, as he says, “You’re still weak from the injury. You need to rest too.” You thank him and put your hand on his fur, feeling his warmth and softness. He guides you towards the door, as he says, “Let’s go to your room. I’ll stay with you until you feel better.” Variel hears him and quickly changes her mind. She doesn’t want to be left alone with her thoughts and feelings. She wants Athos to stay with her, to comfort her and distract her. She says, “Wait, Athos. You can stay here with me.” She looks at you and says, “But you have to go. I don’t want you here.” She sounds rude and ungrateful, but you can also hear the fear and sadness in her voice. You are stunned and hurt by her words, but you also realize that she is not herself. Wondering if there is anything you can do to help her, to break the curse, to heal her wounds. Pondering if she will ever be the same again. Taking a deep breath, inhaling the scent of sweat and fear that permeates the room. "Variel," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Are you sure you're okay?" She looks away from you before continuing in a low, rough voice. "I told you, I just need to rest. You don't have to stay here." she insists, her impatience and frustration evident in her voice. Her words cut through you like a knife, and you feel your eyes begin to sting with unshed tears. You take a step back, away from her, and try to compose yourself. The silence in the room is deafening, broken only by the sound of Athos' footsteps as he moves to keep Variel steady. You can hear the rasp of his breath as he carries her weight, and you feel a pang of envy at their closeness. They seem so comfortable with one another, while you're left feeling like an outsider. Looking at Athos, feeling torn between wanting to stay and support Variel and feeling hurt by her dismissal. Athos looks back at you with understanding and compassion in his eyes. "I'll stay with Empress Variel," he says with a nod of his head, "You go rest." Reluctantly, you nod, realizing that pushing further will only cause more tension. You give Variel one last worried look before making your way out of her room, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you. Outside the room, you take a moment to collect yourself. The events of the day have left you physically and emotionally drained, and you can't help but worry about Variel's well-being. But you also know that she needs some space, and perhaps time alone will help her process everything that has happened. As you walk away, you can't help but feel a sense of longing to be by Variel's side, to comfort her and reassure her that everything will be okay. But for now, all you can do is wait and hope that she will reach out to you when she's ready. [[Next|Variel, Athos Pep Talk]]

''//(Variel's POV)//'' The door closes behind <<print $player_name>>, leaving you in a moment of solitude. ?mcTheir eyes, filled with hurt, still haunt your thoughts. But what troubles you most is your own reaction, the way you've been worrying about ?mctheir well-being. It's a confusing mix of emotions, especially considering the pain you've inflicted on <<print $player_name>> in the past. You find yourself questioning, "Why now? This hasn't happened before? Why am I feeling this way?" You've hurt <<print $player_name>> before, reveled in the suffering you caused, but this time, you're plagued by concern for ?mcthem. What's happening to you? "Empress, are you hurt?" Athos whines, his golden eyes reflecting his worry as he gazes at you. With your arm, you wipe away the blood that's trickled from your face. You move weakly toward your bed and collapse onto its plush mattress, seeking solace in its softness. "I'm not hurt, Athos. It's just that this curse taunts me," you sigh, your eyes fixated on the ceiling. Your hand pats the mattress beside you, inviting Athos to join you. Athos obliges and hops onto the mattress, he cuddles up to you, his fur warm and soft, settling beside you. "How does it work, Empress?" he inquires, his curiosity evident. You sit up, pulling your body erect. "You see, Athos, I can still use magic, but it comes at a cost. Every time I cast a spell, it's as if my body is consumed by an inferno, and my skin feels as though it's being pierced by a million swords. So, with every act of magic, my body deteriorates," you explain, your voice tinged with frustration. The Phantom continues to mock you, to taunt and tease you relentlessly from afar. You feel powerless, unable to take a stand against him. "What do we do now Empress?" You gently stroke Athos's silky fur, lost in thought. "As of now, my furry friend, we wait," you reply with a weary smile. "We have no choice but to weather the storm and remain vigilant. We'll do everything we can to prevent any further harm," you say, attempting to maintain your optimism. Outside, the wind howls through the gardens of the castle, painting the sky with its azure color. Inside your chamber, you shift uncomfortably in bed, the anxiety refusing to leave you. "Do you think <<print $player_name>> will forgive me?" you ponder aloud, your voice tinged with regret. "My actions towards ?mcthem have been unforgivable. I've hurt ?mcthem again and again, and I've done nothing to make amends," you confess to Athos. Your gaze drops to the sheets, and in the corner of the bed, you spot a rose. Its sharp thorns catch your eye, a symbol of beauty marred by pain. "Without a doubt, <<print $player_name>> has already forgiven you, Empress!" Athos says confidently. You chuckle at Athos's assurance. "Really? How can you be so sure, Athos?" you inquire, genuinely curious about the wolf's perspective. His eyes gleam with wisdom. "You see, Empress, since <<print $player_name>> resides in the same realm as you, they possess a sense of empathy and compassion beyond human understanding. Everyone has a past, and if you've changed, even the slightest bit, ?mcthey are capable of forgiveness, regardless of your past deeds." Hearing Athos's words, a weight lifts from your shoulders. Though you aren't certain if <<print $player_name>> has truly forgiven you, knowing ?mcthey are kind and compassionate, and even if ?mc haven't forgiven you yet, Athos's words bring you comfort and hope. "You know, Athos, your words are a balm to my soul," you admit with a warm smile. "If only I possessed that same empathy and compassion you speak of." Athos tilts his head, his ears twitching slightly. "Empress, everyone makes mistakes, but the important thing is that we learn from them and become better people. That's what you've done, and I can tell that you regret your past actions. So, have a little faith in yourself," he says, his eyes glinting with a spark of hope. You place a hand on Athos's head and give him an affectionate pat. "You always know what to say, my furry friend. You've helped me through many difficult times, and I'm grateful to have you by my side," you express, smiling down at him. And then, a deep sense of remorse washes over you, prompting you to make amends for your past behavior. "I want to apologize for how I've treated you in the past," you confess sincerely. "All those times I took your quarry when you and your pack worked hard to hunt it. I'm truly sorry, Athos." Athos lets out a playful growl and nudges you gently. "You can make up for it by playing with me!" he teases. You chuckle at the wolf's playful nature, touched by his forgiving spirit. You know there's a long road ahead of you, but having a loyal friend like Athos gives you hope that one day, you can make things right. "Alright, let's leave this room behind, my friend. The gardens have more space for us," you suggest, ruffling his fur playfully. With renewed energy, you take Athos to the gardens, where his antics help lighten the mood. Together, you run and laugh, releasing pent-up emotions and frustrations. In that moment, everything else fades into the background. You eventually settle on a bench, a small smile gracing your lips as you watch Athos explore the gardens. You feel thankful for his kindness and wonder if perhaps you do deserve a second chance. Athos reminds you of the goodness in life, something you had almost forgotten in your relentless pursuit of power. However, a whisper-like voice from behind startles you. "She lived in fear and anger." The voice seems to come from everywhere at once, sending shivers down your spine. "Her heart was filled with hatred, and her eyes saw the world through a cruel gaze." Your pulse quickens as you spot a shadow moving in the distance. Determinedly, you stride toward it, sensing that something is amiss. As you approach, two figures step into view, nobles engaged in a hushed conversation. One of them points an accusatory finger. "She's the cause of this, I tell you!" he exclaims, his tone filled with animosity. "That lizard is nothing but trouble!" "Enough of this!" a voice intervenes from behind, and you realize that the voice you heard earlier belonged to this speaker. "I've told you countless times that your prejudice is baseless and uncalled for!" She dismisses the man's accusations with a wave of her hand. "For heaven's sake, show some compassion for Variel. It's not her fault that this is happening!" Athos growls and steps forward. "The woman speaks the truth! You pompous fool! This isn't the Empress's fault. If you're going to blame someone, blame the spirit that attacked us!" he defends your honor, his loyalty unwavering. Witnessing Athos's staunch support fills you with a sense of gratitude and pride. It's a reminder that even in times of darkness, there are those who stand by your side, ready to defend your name. You nod, acknowledging Athos's loyalty. "Thank you, my friend," you murmur, realizing that you're not alone in this struggle. Despite your shortcomings, Athos has remained loyal, and you will do your utmost to repay him in kind. Still, the ongoing discussion continues to fill you with unease. The man looks like he's not convinced, and he seems hell-bent on protecting his prejudices. However, the woman remains determined, and you cannot help but admire her boldness. "Listen, I'm not telling you to sympathize with her, but if you're not willing to open your mind, you're never going to find the answers you need!" the woman insists. "Who are you to lecture me? Don't presume to understand the intricacies of the situation!" the man snaps. "For all we know, the lizard could be planning something sinister!" Your heart sinks, and suddenly, the world comes crashing down. The insults are endless, and the accusations strike deep. But the words pale in comparison to the memories of their actions. "How dare you?! Variel isn't the cause of this. She's a victim, just like us!" the woman cries. "If you would only take the time to listen, you'd realize that we have no choice but to work together. Unity is the only way to defeat the spirit," she counters, her eyes blazing with defiance. The man's face contorts with rage, and his voice reverberates through the air like thunder, seething with anger. "Why, you insolent brat!" he bellows, his words slicing through the tense atmosphere. "Don't speak of things you don't understand! You have no right to question my judgment!" His fury is palpable as he shoves the woman aside, sending her stumbling to the ground. Her gasp of surprise is drowned out by the sheer force of his aggression, and the pain and shock in her eyes pierce your heart. Before you can react, the man storms off, leaving you and Athos to grapple with the consequences of his unchecked emotions. The woman, still trembling from the encounter, manages to rise to her feet, tears streaming down her face as she clutches her injured arm. Her voice quivers as she speaks, "T-that was unnecessary," her words falter, and she trembles. You can't help but feel a deep sympathy for her. Approaching her gently, you offer a reassuring pat on her shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to witness that," you say, your voice carrying genuine concern. "That man had no right to behave in such a way. Are you alright?" She nods, tears still glistening on her cheeks as she wipes them away. "I-I'm okay," she manages to reply, her voice strained. "Thank you for standing by me," you tell her sincerely, appreciating her presence and support in this difficult moment. She lets out a sigh, shoulders slumping in defeat. "I just wish people could see the reality of the situation," she admits, her voice heavy with frustration. "But I guess it's easier said than done." "You're absolutely right," you agree, a note of understanding in your tone. "Change is a challenging endeavor, but that doesn't make it impossible. There will always be people like you fighting for what's right." Athos, sensing the woman's distress, licks her hand gently, and her lips curve into a fragile smile. "Thank you, both," she says gratefully. "I just wish more people understood. It's so disheartening to see people waste their time and energy being negative and pessimistic." You nod in agreement. "Well, at least you can take solace in the fact that you've done what you can to make a positive difference. That's more than most people can say." Her laughter, tinged with both exhaustion and resilience, fills the air. "I suppose so," she says, stroking Athos's fur lovingly. "Can I get a hug from this little guy?" Athos, ever eager to bring comfort, barks in approval and bounds over to her, overwhelming her with affection. She giggles in delight as he showers her with playful affection, and you can't help but smile at the heartwarming sight. "I take it he likes you?" you quip, enjoying the lighthearted moment. "Yes!" she exclaims, her spirits lifted by Athos's antics. "Athos, you really are a sweetheart." She sighs contentedly, resting her head against the wolf's soft fur. "Say, what do you say we have some tea?" she suggests while still under Athos's friendly assault. "Sure!" you agree, somewhat reluctantly, yet the prospect of a genuine conversation with someone who seems to genuinely want your company is appealing. As you prepare to leave, your thoughts circle back to MC's earlier words and actions. You ponder the possibility of reaching out to <<print $player_name>> and offering an apology. The memory of ?mctheir attempt at understanding and kindness despite your situation weighs on your conscience. Regret fills your heart as you consider the missed opportunity to connect with ?mcthem. A profound sense of remorse swells within you. You wonder if, at this juncture, you could bridge the gap, if <<print $player_name>> could find it in their heart to forgive you. These thoughts swirl in your mind as you prepare to leave with the woman for tea, a small glimmer of hope emerging amidst the uncertainty. [[Next|Lee Meet Rick]]

You take a moment to collect your thoughts before answering, the weight of the encounter bearing down on you. "I... I am <<print $player_name>>."," you respond, your voice carrying a mix of awe and vulnerability. The goddess nods, her smile widening with a sense of gentle camaraderie. "Ah,<<print $player_name>>." it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she says, her voice like a soft caress, "Your journey here has not been an easy one, has it?" she says, her voice ringing out like a clear bell in the stillness of the space around you. But then, her demeanor shifts suddenly, and her expression becomes more serious. You feel a shiver run down your spine as Luceille's words sink in. "I'm sorry to tell you that you have lived your life to the fullest, and you died," she says in a calm and even tone. Your mind whirls with disbelief, struggling to come to terms with what she's saying. You died? How is that even possible? Just moments ago, you were living your life, weren't you? The realization hits you like a tidal wave, and a profound sense of loss and confusion envelops you. The goddess observes you closely, her radiant eyes never leaving your face, waiting patiently for your response. "WHATTTTTT," you shout in utter disbelief, unable to contain your shock and panic. Luceille remains composed, despite your outburst. "I understand that you are confused right now and want an explanation!" she replies, offering her aid to provide the answers you seek. "Yeah, no shit!" you retort, the panic and frustration bubbling over, disregarding the fact that you're speaking to a deity. The goddess's gaze turns icy, and you find yourself unable to meet her eyes. "Again, I understand what you're feeling right now, but I will not tolerate a lack of respect!" she speaks firmly, her presence radiating an undeniable authority that sends prickles of heat across your skin. You nod, immediately realizing your mistake, and clench your teeth, trying to suppress your annoyance. "Now, you died. Do you remember what happened?" she inquires, her voice filled with genuine concern as she waits for your reply. You open your mouth to respond, raising a finger to make your point, but you find yourself at a loss for words. You stand there in silence, the sound of your breath the only thing audible, as you desperately attempt to piece together the events that led to your current predicament. Yet, no matter how hard you try, your memories refuse to return. Your life, once vivid and detailed, is now like a puzzle with missing pieces, irretrievably scattered. "I... I... I don't remember," you say somberly, your hands hanging limply by your side. Luceille gestures for you to walk with her, and she starts gliding across the floor, seemingly weightless, her white gown trailing behind her like a cloud. You can't decide if it's an illusion or your mind playing tricks on you. "You see, <<print $player_name>>, the reason you died is that you rescued a young girl from getting run over!" she reveals, her gaze locking with yours. As she speaks, a faint flicker of memory begins to resurface, like a distant echo that grows louder. The image of a terrified child, frozen in the path of an oncoming vehicle, flashes before your eyes. Your heart races as you remember the adrenaline-fueled rush, the desperation to save her at all costs. Luceille's recounting of your heroic act fills you with conflicting emotions. On one hand, you feel a sense of pride and fulfillment, knowing that you were able to make a difference in someone's life. On the other hand, the bitter irony of losing your life in such a selfless act is not lost on you. As you continue to walk beside the goddess, more fragments of memories start to surface. You recall the people you loved, the dreams you held, and the struggles you faced. Each memory paints a vivid picture of a life that was cut short, leaving behind unfinished chapters and unanswered questions. [[But why I cannot remember?]]

"I'm alright!" assuring Lucian that you are unhurt, putting on a brave smile and waving your hand dismissively. You are keen to show him that you are not a helpless person in distress, but someone who is capable and adventurous who can handle any situation. You muster all your strength and willpower to stand up from the ground, brushing off the dirt and grass from your clothes. However, as you attempt to walk towards him, fate plays a cruel trick on you. A hidden branch in the grass catches your foot, sending you tumbling forward with a cry of dismay. "CRAP!" You curse under your breath, feeling a surge of anger and frustration at your clumsiness. You brace yourself for the inevitable impact of the hard ground, hoping that Lucian will not see you in this embarrassing state. Yet, before you can hit the earth, you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, catching you in mid-air. You gasp in surprise, feeling a jolt of electricity run through your body as you are pulled into his embrace. You look up into his eyes, which are filled with concern and relief. He holds you firmly, but gently, as if you are a precious treasure that he does not want to let go. You are stunned by this unexpected turn of events, and by the sudden closeness between you. You feel his warm breath on your face, his heartbeat against your chest, his muscular arms around your waist. You smell his cologne, a mix of wood and spice that makes you dizzy, do even Gods wear cologne? "Are you alright?" he ask once again his voice, low and soft. His voice sends shivers down your spine, making you forget everything else. "I'm fi... fin...fine!" You try to answer him, but your voice fails you. You can only nod mutely, feeling a flush of heat rise to your cheeks. You are aware of every inch of his body touching yours, every detail of his face in front of yours. His eyes are deep amber, like the brown leaves of the autumn. His hair is dark brown and curly, falling over his forehead in a charming way. You are lost in his gaze, unable to look away. Time seems to stop, as if the world has paused for this moment. You feel something in your chest, soemthing you can't describe. But then, something changes in his expression. He seems to realize what he is doing, and what it means. He blushes deeply, as if ashamed of his actions. He breaks eye contact with you, looking away nervously. He loosens his grip on you, letting you go slowly. He steps back from you, creating some distance between you. The sensation of his touch lingers on your skin, leaving a trail of electric sparks that seem to dance across your senses. You watch as Lucian takes a step back, his movements measured and deliberate, as if he's trying to regain his composure. His eyes, which had been locked with yours moments ago, now avoid your gaze, and you can see the internal struggle he's grappling with. The silence between you is heavy with unspoken words, and the air feels charged with unresolved tension. You're left with a mix of emotions, your heart still fluttering from the closeness you had shared with Lucian. Lucian's voice cuts through the heavy silence like a sharp knife, jolting you back to the present moment. You both look around, taking in your surroundings, trying to distract yourselves from the lingering emotions that still hang in the air. The place looks unfamiliar, yet strangely inviting. You feel a sense of relief and curiosity wash over you as Lucian announces, "We've finally arrived at your IF!" You let out a deep breath that you didn't even realize you had been holding, feeling a sense of release wash over you. The tension that had built up between you and Lucian slowly begins to dissipate, and you're grateful for the change in topic. You meet his gaze and nod in agreement. "Yes, we have," you reply, your voice steady but your heart still fluttering with the aftereffects of the earlier moment. The weight of the unspoken emotions lingers, but you try to gather your cool and focus on the new topic at hand. Curiosity blooms within you, a seed that takes root and sprouts forth in the form of a question. You raise an eyebrow, a subtle gesture that belies the intrigue that courses through your veins. "Can you enlighten me, Lucian? What did your sister mean by saying that the gods have rewritten my story?" Your arms cross over your chest, a stance of contemplation and curiosity as you await his response. Lucian's eyes sparkle with excitement, and he leans in closer, his voice laced with enthusiasm. "Your IF has been rewritten by the gods, but the prologue is the only thing that has remained almost the same. The gods believe that if you knew what would happen every time, you might find your new life here boring." The words hang in the air, a tapestry woven with threads of cosmic intrigue. The concept of divine intervention weaves a sense of awe into the very fabric of your thoughts. You stroke your chin thoughtfully, a contemplative gesture that punctuates your silent contemplation. The memory of the prologue, once a vivid tapestry etched into your mind, now eludes you like a whisper carried away by the wind. Frustration gnaws at the edges of your consciousness, a reminder of the limitations of mortal memory. With a furrowed brow, you attempt to summon the fragments of your past, to bridge the gap between then and now. “Ummm Lucian, I can’t seem to remember the prologue of my story,” you confess, lowering your eyes. But Lucian doesn’t seem to mind at all. He smiles back at you with a reassuring look, as if he understands your predicament. He reaches for his satchel that he had slung over his shoulder, rummaging through its contents with enthusiasm. He pulls out several scrolls and parchments, some of them falling onto the ground as he searches for the one he wants. You bend down to help him pick them up, scanning their titles with curiosity. A triumphant glint brightens your eyes as you catch sight of the scroll labeled "Prologue." Your fingers trace the edge of the parchment, the texture a tactile connection to the mysteries it holds. With careful reverence, you untie the ribbon that binds the scroll, its fibers yielding to your touch like a secret unveiled. "I've got it!" you exclaim, your voice carrying a note of excitement that mirrors the thrill of discovery. The ribbon falls away, a metaphorical curtain lifted to reveal the forgotten details of your story. ''//(Take note from this point,I will be alternating the scenes between Lucille and MC's POV You know similar to movies when a detective is telling their deduction and showing a flashback to what happened.)//'' //(Lucille’s POV)// After teleporting Lucian and <<print $player_name>> into the IF, a job well done. The culmination of the intricate ritual leaves you with a curious blend of emotions. Relief cascades through your being like a gentle stream, carrying away the tension that had gripped your senses. Yet, beneath the surface, uncertainty swirls like an eddy in the current. The notion of inhabiting a realm crafted by fellow deities is a concept that had previously eluded your contemplation. Can genuine contentment truly be found within the confines of a world that resonates with the echo of artificiality deep within your heart? Lost within the labyrinthine corridors of your thoughts, your reverie is rudely shattered as an uninvited guest breaches the sanctum of your quarters. An ember of fury ignites within your core, flames of indignation licking at your composure. With a swift motion, you pivot on your heel, locking your gaze onto the unwelcome intruder who has so brazenly trespassed into your haven. "Who dares—" your words falter, the sting of recognition coloring your ire with a tinge of dread. "Atris!" The name dances upon your lips, a venomous utterance that leaves a bitter residue upon your tongue. The presence of the Goddess of Death materializes before you, shrouded in a cloak of shadows that trail her every step. Her form is etched in darkness, an embodiment of the sinister that sends a frisson of unease down your spine. The resentment you harbor for her simmers just beneath the surface, a tempestuous sea of emotions that threatens to breach its confines. The very air seems to thicken as you confront Atris, the charged atmosphere heavy with the weight of your animosity. "What do you want!" you declare, your voice a thunderclap that reverberates with the intensity of a brewing storm. Your eyes, narrowed to slits, bore into her figure, your jaw set in a vice of determination. Atris, the enigmatic embodiment of death's embrace, wears a smirk that seems to unravel like an insolent curl upon her lips. Her dark eyes gleam with a wicked amusement, a playful dance of shadows that dances upon the precipice of your patience. You clench your teeth, the strain of containing your rising anger palpable even to your own senses. "Lucille, my dear," Atris purrs, her voice dripping with honeyed condescension. Her smile, equal parts malevolence and mockery, stretches like a sinister crescent moon. Her eyes remain locked with yours, a silent challenge that fuels the fire of your resentment. With a gesture as elegant as it is dismissive, you conjure a chair into existence, a manifestation of your will made tangible. Sinking into the seat, weariness seeps into your bones, an unwanted companion that accompanies Atris's unwelcome intrusion. Your patience wears thin, threads of frustration entwining your thoughts like an insidious vine. The sarcasm that drips from Atris's lips is enough to fray the edges of your tolerance. "Aren't you gonna offer me a chair?" she quips, her words a taunting melody that reverberates in the chamber. Her eyes, twin beacons of amusement, bear into you like twin lanterns that cast an eerie glow upon her countenance. With a swift snap of your fingers, Atris yields to your conjured chair, her insolent saunter accentuated by the deliberate rub of her posterior against the seat's surface. The high-pitched squeaking that ensues grates on your senses, but you suppress the urge to succumb to your mounting frustration. A calm exterior is your shield, your defense against the impertinence that now manifests before you. Closing your eyes, a measured inhale courses through your nostrils, your fingers seeking refuge at the bridge of your nose. The pinch acts as both anchor and release, a physical manifestation of your determination to uphold your poise in the face of this uninvited storm. "State your business!" The words slice through the air, imbued with the urgency of a dagger's edge. Your gaze pierces through the shadows, each syllable bearing the weight of your impatience. Atris's ceaseless fidgeting adds discord to the atmosphere, an audacious dance that tests your resolve. Her smirk, a canvas of malevolence, widens like a sinister crescent moon. Yet, even amidst your admonitions, Atris persists in her disruptive antics, her figure a tempest of movement within the confines of the chair. A maddening symphony of squeaks echoes, a provocation that teases the boundaries of your restraint. "Atris!" Your rebuke holds authority, a stern reminder of the respect due to your station. Her final, exaggerated squeak only amplifies the vexation that brews beneath your exterior. The flicker of her mischievous grin, illuminated by the iridescent light of her own defiance, is both infuriating and oddly captivating. Her bony finger, a skeletal conductor, orchestrates an impatient rhythm upon the armrest. Each tap creates a haunting cadence, the percussive accompaniment to the storm that churns within your heart. In the eerie silence that follows, a palpable sense of unease blankets the chamber, a premonition that heralds impending danger. Atris's voice emerges, a venomous serpent that coils itself around your senses. Each word drips with acidic malice, a cruel symphony that resonates with your apprehension. "Are you sure you didn't participate in the rewriting of the story, Lucille?" The query is laced with implications that stir a tempest of uncertainty within your mind. What secrets does Atris hold? What truths remain veiled from your grasp? Your fists clench at your sides, the knuckles straining against the pressure of your pent-up frustration. "Why do you ask?" Your words carry the weight of your unease, the tension weaving through each syllable like a taut thread. Atris's smile, a web of sly intrigue, tightens its grip upon your senses. "Oh, no reason," she purrs, the glint in her eyes a harbinger of mischief. Her words linger like a shadow, each phrase laden with enigma. What lies beneath her facade? What ulterior motives drive her actions? "I just find it pretty ironic that a goddess of life like you doesn't have any interest in creating a new world." Your patience, tested to its limits, threatens to unravel. "Get to the point, Atris," you command, your voice a blade honed with impatience. The tenuous balance between control and chaos teeters upon a precipice. Atris's head tilts, an avian gesture that denotes her amusement. "Where is the fun in that?" Her taunt is a gust of wind that stokes the smoldering embers of your frustration, igniting a spark of indignation. As the puzzle pieces fall into place, a revelation unfurls like a dark tapestry before your eyes. The gods' tampering with the story... it can only mean one thing. "NO!" The exclamation rips through your lips, a crescendo of shock and disbelief that reverberates through the chamber, its resonance punctuated by the tremor of your voice. Atris's triumphant laughter, a haunting symphony, dances upon the air, an eerie serenade that amplifies your realization. "Finally!" Atris's exultant proclamation reverberates, a chilling echo that seals the weight of your dread. Her victory is painted in the wicked arc of her grin, a predator savoring the culmination of her machinations. ''(MC's POV)'' You feel a warm breath on your neck, making you shiver. You glance sideways, and see Lucian’s face inches from yours. . He brushes his shoulder against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You lower the scroll, trying to act casual and arching an eyebrow at him, but he grins at you. Acting oblivious or being purposefully coy? You force yourself to look away, and focus on the scroll in your hands. Lucian said that this is your Prologue skimming its contents, hoping to find some clues in the symbols and diagrams, but they only confuse you more. You squint at the scroll, hoping to make sense of it, but then you see something that makes your blood run cold. A word that you do recognize, a word that triggers a flash of memory in your mind. A word that spells doom for you and Lucian. ''//“Dragon.”//'' You gasp, and drop the scroll. It falls to the ground with a thud, drawing Lucian’s attention. He looks at you with concern, and reaches for your hand. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice soft and gentle. You open your mouth to answer, but before you can say anything, you hear a deafening roar. You look up, and see a massive shadow looming over you. A dragon, larger than any you’ve ever seen, flies over the sky, blocking out the sun. Its scales are red as blood, its eyes are yellow as fire, its teeth are sharp as blades. It breathes out a stream of flame, setting the trees ablaze. You feel a surge of fear and awe, mixed with a strange sense of familiarity. You remember this dragon. You remember its name, its history, its purpose. You remember why it’s here. You remember everything. Lucian snaps his fingers, as if he just had an epiphany. He looks at you with panic in his eyes, and grabs your shoulders. He shakes you hard, making you dizzy. “Oh no, I remember now!” he shouts, his voice trembling. “We have to get out of here! We have to run! We have to hide! We have to…” //(Lucielle's POV)// The weight of your accusation reverberates through the air, each word a thunderous clap that shakes the very foundation of your being. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" Your voice pierces the tense atmosphere, an incantation of anger and authority that echoes into the abyss. Atris ignores your outburst, her attention drawn to something else. She cocks her head, listening to a faint sound that only she can hear. A wicked smile spreads across her lips, as she slowly turns to face you. Her eyes are cold and cruel, reflecting no emotion but malice. “I have only fulfilled my role as the Goddess of Death, Lucille,” she says, her voice calm and chilling. “It is my duty to bring an end to all things.” Her words are a frosty breath that curls in the air, seeping into the depths of your soul like an uninvited guest. You shake your head, refusing to believe her words. You know that Atris is more than just a goddess of death. She is a goddess of destruction, chaos, and madness. She delights in causing pain and suffering, in twisting the natural order of life and death. The accusation in your voice reverberates, an unrelenting wave that crashes against the shores of her audacity. "We both know that you did more than that, Atris!" Your voice is a command, an assertion of your knowledge and power, a declaration that echoes with the authority of a tempest. Atris remains unyielding, an ominous statue carved from the darkest of marble, her form untouched by the waves of accusation that crash upon her. Her chuckle, a macabre symphony devoid of mirth, rings out like a sinister melody in the hollow chambers of your domain. “You knew me too well, Lucille,” she says, her voice cutting like a knife. “You always saw through my lies and schemes. You always tried to stop me. But you were too late.” Your heart drums a relentless rhythm against your chest, a primal dance of fear and anticipation. With each beat, your question gains momentum, transforming into a harbinger of impending doom. "I repeat! What have you done?!" The words slip from your lips, heavy with the weight of unease, a plea wrapped in a shroud of dread. Atris's response is a dagger, a chilling whisper that slices through the air. "What I do best," she declares, her eyes a swirling vortex of obsidian, a void that threatens to devour your very essence. As her aura shifts, the world around you darkens, a manifestation of her malevolent influence that wraps around you like a suffocating embrace. The dread intensifies, a heavy cloak that envelops your senses, drowning you in a sea of foreboding. A realization dawns with sickening clarity: Atris has unleashed an unspeakable darkness upon the world, an ancient evil that hungers for chaos and despair. “DEATH!” she shouts, her presence filling the air with an oppressive force of darkness and evil. ''(MC's POV)'' Lucian's voice was urgent, filled with fear as he shook you with increasing intensity. "WE NEED TO FIND COVER NOW!" he exclaimed, his words piercing through the chaos of the dragon's roar echoing in the air. The sheer magnitude of the situation snapped you out of your shock, and you nodded in agreement, your heart pounding in your chest. "QUICKLY, WE MUST FIND COVER NOW!" you echoed his words, feeling the fear coursing through your veins. Together, you both sprinted towards the nearest shelter, your feet pounding against the ground, kicking up clouds of dust in your haste. The dragon's shadow loomed large, circling ominously above, its wings casting an eerie shadow that seemed to swallow the surroundings. But it was too late. You could hear the dragon's wings beating closer, feel the ground trembling beneath your feet as it descended towards you. Panic surged through you as you realized there was no time left to escape. The dragon had spotted you, and there was nowhere left to hide. "STOP" the air vibrated with a thunderous roar that sent chills down your spine. Your heart skipped a beat as you and Lucian froze in fear, your eyes locked on the sight before you. A dragon, massive and majestic, descended from the sky with a grace that belied its size. Its wings, spanning wide and casting a shadow over the land, beat against the air with a force that kicked up clouds of dust, causing the ground to tremble beneath your feet. You could see the dragon's scales, glistening with an otherworldly iridescence, and the sharpness of its claws as they scraped against the earth. Its eyes, glowing with an otherworldly intensity, held an unfathomable depth that sent shivers down your spine. Lucian's voice trembled with desperation as he struggled to take command of his own body. His eyes widened with fear as he tried to move, to take action, but his efforts were in vain. He could only manage to move a mere inch, as if some unseen force held him in place, rendering him powerless. You cursed yourself inwardly for making the dragons in your story possess some sort of verbal magic. It was a curse that now had Lucian in its grip, leaving him at the mercy of the dragon's power. "What's happening?" Lucian managed to croak, his voice filled with fear and frustration. His muscles strained against the invisible force that held him captive, but it was as if an invisible barrier prevented him from moving any further. Your eyes meet in a silent exchange of shared apprehension. Lucian's face is etched with a mixture of fear and determination, mirroring the turmoil that rages within you. The dragon's gaze narrows, an unspoken challenge that propels a shiver down your spine. Its immense head looms closer, its very proximity sending a cascade of emotions crashing over you. Its reptilian eyes, like twin pools of molten gold, fixate on you with an intensity that leaves you feeling bare, your thoughts exposed, as if it could unravel the very fabric of your being. "What do we have here?" The dragon's voice reverberates through the air, a echo of power and authority that commands attention. Its head tilts to the side, a gesture that carries a hint of bemusement, as if it were regarding an intriguing puzzle. "Two humans, how peculiar." The weight of the dragon's scrutiny settles upon you like an invisible mantle. The air grows dense with its curiosity, a palpable energy that crackles in the space between you. Every fiber of your being tingles under the weight of its attention, a sensation that both unsettles and fascinates. "WHAT THE TWO OF YOU DOING HERE IN MY GROUNDS!" The dragon's voice is a forceful demand, a question imbued with the weight of its authority. The words resonate in your chest, sending a tremor through your core. The sheer power of its voice leaves no room for evasion, compelling you to face the truth. The dragon's colossal form draws nearer, an imposing presence that engulfs your mind. The air grows suffocating, tainted with the acrid scent of sulfur that clings to your senses. Heat radiates from its massive body, an oppressive force that presses against your skin, a reminder of your vulnerability in the face of its might. Reptilian eyes, gleaming with a mesmerizing intensity, remain fixed upon you and Lucian. The dragon's gaze is unwavering, a relentless scrutiny that dissects your very essence. Flickering flames dance within its nostrils, a visual manifestation of its building agitation, a precursor to the storm that brews within. "We didn't mean to intrude," you said, your voice shaking despite your best efforts to sound confident. "We were just exploring, and we didn't realize we were on your grounds." The dragon's eyes narrowed even further, and you could see the muscles in its massive body tensing as if ready to strike. "Exploring, you say?" the dragon said, the skepticism in its voice clear. "And you didn't realize you were on my grounds? That's hard to believe." You could feel the weight of the dragon's gaze, its curiosity palpable in the air. One sentence came to your mindand these sentence might either save or end your life, being the author of this IF youmade dragons to be prideful and very keen in maintening and increasing their reputation. With a intake of air you met the dragon's eyes. [[We came to see the mighty dragon with our own eyes!]]

You draw in a deep breath, allowing the crisp, slightly chilly air to fill your lungs, each inhale a conscious reminder that you're about to embark on a journey with no certain outcome. Turning towards Garrett, your eyes meet his with a mixture of determination and vulnerability. "Variel it is," you assert, your voice steady despite the subtle tremor beneath. Garrett's nod carries a weight of unspoken understanding, his concern for your safety evident in the furrow that briefly mars his forehead. His words slip through the quiet like a promise, his voice pitched low, brimming with both caution and unwavering resolve. "If things take an unexpected turn, don't hesitate to call for help," he advises, his tone a blend of mentor and friend. Your affirmation is punctuated by a sharp, determined nod, a visual contract of your commitment to heed his advice. Variel's predatory gaze follows your every move, her eyes fixed upon you like a hunter stalking its prey. A wide, unnerving smile spreads across her face, causing a shiver to run down your spine. The air suddenly feels colder, and your palms become clammy with sweat, the droplets tracing a trail down the back of your neck. Despite the fear that threatens to overwhelm you, you hold her gaze with unwavering determination. You refuse to show her any sign of weakness. With each passing moment, the intensity of the situation mounts, the air charged with an electric tension. ''//(Variel's POV)//'' The approaching figure draws your attention, a mixture of fascination and grudging respect swirling within you. Despite the evident wounds marking their body, there's an undeniable courage in their stride, a defiance that strikes a chord within your own tempestuous nature. The ghost of a smirk dances at the edges of your lips, an acknowledgment of the audacity it takes to venture this close to you, within a breath's distance of danger. A sly smirk graced your lips as you greeted them, unable to contain your amusement. "Ah, it's good to see you again," you purr, your voice a velvet whisper that carries an undertone of amusement. The syllables seem to weave through the air like tendrils of smoke, a beguiling trap that lures them further into your intricate web. In response, <<print $player_name>>'s nod is both a gesture of acknowledgment and a subtle admission of their unease. Their grip on the reins is tight, knuckles whitening under the strain, a physical reflection of the turmoil within. With a soft chuckle, you command relaxation from them, your laughter a counterpoint to the taut atmosphere. "There's no need for that iron grip, little mouse. I won't be sinking my teeth into you this time," you tease, your words laden with the weight of a promise unspoken. But it's the mere curl of your fingers into an imitation of claws that heightens the tension, your intent clear as day. You watch, a predator assessing its prey, as their reaction flickers across their features, a blend of apprehension and defiance that fans the flames of your interest. "Yet!" Your gaze shifts, fingers tracing the jagged edges of your nails with a predatory musing. A question hangs unspoken in the air, a silent echo that demands an answer. "So, what brings you to my domain?" The words are a melodic inquiry, each syllable a note in the symphony of this encounter. Their response is a resolute note in the face of uncertainty, their voice unwavering as it cuts through the tension. "I came seeking understanding," they admit, the admission a raw vulnerability that raises the stakes of this game. The corner of your lips twitches in a gesture that's part amusement, part skepticism. "Understanding, hm?" you muse, your tone rich with intrigue as your fingers idly brush against the memory of your prior encounter etched onto their skin. <<print $player_name>> maintained their composure, their gaze never wavering as they continued, "I also want to understand why you're doing this to me." Their expression remains stoic, but the arch of their brows is a subtle tell, a question demanding an answer all its own. Your words seem to echo in the space between you, a promise shrouded in a cloak of enigma. "And what exactly do you believe I'm 'doing' to you?" Their frustration became evident as their eyes narrowed. "Don't play dumb with me," they snapped back, their voice laced with irritation. "You damn well know what I mean!" As their anger simmers, your eyes drift to the scar that adorns their forearm, a reminder of your power and the dance of dominance that brought it into existence. "Ah, that. It was quite the introduction, don't you think?" The memory of your nail slicing through their skin, the sound of flesh parting, and the sight of crimson blood spilling out flooded your mind. <<print $player_name>> stared at you in disbelief as you summoned the energy within you, your hand glowing with a vibrant green light reminiscent of the surrounding trees. With a flick of your wrist, you directed the magic towards their wound, intensifying the green light. The power surged through your fingertips, knitting the torn flesh back together, closing the wound in a mesmerizing display of your abilities. As the light faded, leaving behind only a faint scar, <<print $player_name>> couldn't hide their shock. "Did you just... heal me?" they asked, their voice filled with astonishment. The fading glow leaves a mark of your influence, a testament to the mastery you wield. Their incredulous voice trembles in the air, a note of disbelief that only fuels your satisfaction. The corners of your lips lift, an embodiment of the duality that defines you. "Yes, little mouse, I mended the wound I inflicted. A taste of my capabilities, if you will." "Besides, I do enjoy playing with my food." Your voice took on a low growl, causing <<print $player_name>> to instinctively take a step back, their eyes widening with a mixture of fear and intrigue. Their voice trembled as they asked, "So, I look like food to you?" Their posture stiffened as they awaited your response, their eyes searching yours for any sign of danger. You chuckled darkly, thoroughly amused by their reaction. "Well, you do appear quite delectable," you teased, your lips curling into a wicked grin. <<print $player_name>> visibly relaxed, though a cautious stance remained. "So, little mouse, what questions do you have about me?" you asked, your tone shifting to a more serious note. "Make it quick." As you spoke, you observed <<print $player_name>> closely, taking note of their every movement and expression. Their body language spoke volumes, eyes darting to the side, and their entire being taut with tension. It was evident that they were on edge, and your words only heightened the atmosphere. Watching them closely as they gather their thoughts. You wonder what they want to know about you and why. You wonder if they are trying to get closer to you or if they have ulterior motives. You wonder if they are afraid of you or if they are intrigued by you. You wonder if they are playing with fire or if they are looking for warmth. You wonder what will happen next? //''(MC's POV)''// Your hands are shaking slightly, and your heart is beating faster than usual. But you feel a sense of calm wash over you as Variel offers to answer your questions freely. It's not every day that someone as powerful and intimidating as her offers such a gesture. "Well?" her gaze fixed on you like a hawk on its prey and snapping her fingers. <<linkreplace "Are you the only dragon that is alive?">> "Are you the only dragon that is alive?" The question bursts forth from your lips, propelled by a torrent of curiosity that refuses to be tamed. Your voice trembles, betraying the underlying nerves that dance within you like a tempestuous storm. Your gaze, an unwavering searchlight, delves into Variel's eyes, seeking even the slightest flicker of response. In the moment that hangs between your question and her answer, Variel's gaze undergoes a transformation. Sorrow clouds the depths of her crimson orbs, an emotion so poignant that it's almost tangible. It's a fleeting glimpse into a side of her that's rarely shown, a vulnerability that makes your heart ache in a way you hadn't anticipated. As the weight of your question lands, Variel's composure momentarily fractures, a raw vulnerability seeping through the cracks. Her lips part, a fragment of a breath escaping before she reins herself in. Her attempt to reclaim her stoic facade is evident, yet it's that brief glimpse of unguarded emotion that lingers, haunting the air like a melody half-remembered. "Yes," Variel finally replies, her voice a careful balance of steadiness and a tremor that threatens to unravel her façade. The weight of her answer hangs heavy in the air, the echo of her solitary existence resonating through the words. You take a deep breath, aware of the gravity of your next question. The area feels heavy with silence, as if holding its breath, as you softly ask, "What happened?" Variel's gaze, still clouded with the tendrils of sorrow, draws you in like a whirlpool of emotions. You're suspended in this moment, your very being tethered to her response, yearning for a window into the truth of her existence. Variel's eyes flash with a mixture of anger and sorrow. Her previously composed demeanor shatters like fragile glass, and her body tenses with an intense emotion that radiates from her very being. Fists clenching at her sides, she seems ready to explode. "Your kind," she spits out the words with venom, her voice dripping with bitterness and resentment, "betrayed us. They hunted us, enslaved us, and drove us to the brink of extinction. And now, here they come once again to finish the job!" The raw emotion in her voice cuts through the air like a knife, leaving a trail of disbelief and confusion in its wake. Her words contradict the version of the story you've been told, the one that claimed the dragons had initiated the conflict. Variel's revelation only deepens the mystery surrounding the ancient war between dragons and humans, leaving you yearning for the truth. "FORWARD MARCH!" Garett's command shatters the moment, breaking the spell of Variel's narrative. The world around you roars to life, the clatter of armor and the rhythm of hooves creating a symphony of impending action. The carriage ahead rumbles, and the motion propels you forward, your heart synchronizing with the cadence of the army's march. The rhythmic sound of hoofbeats and the clanging of armor fill the air as the army sets off on its march. As you steal a glance at Variel, you notice an unusual silence surrounding her. Her head is cast down, lost in her own thoughts. It is a stark contrast to her usual bloodthirsty demeanor and condescending attitude, leaving you feeling uncertain and uneasy. In an attempt to break the silence and perhaps gain insight into her past, you muster up the courage to ask, "Do you miss your kind?" Variel's eyes cloud over with a mixture of sadness and nostalgia as she slowly turns her head to face you. It is as though she is transported back in time, lost in memories that are both painful and comforting. After a long moment of silence, she speaks, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know," Variel admits, her voice carrying a hint of longing. Compelled by an inexplicable need to offer her comfort, you gently urge your horse closer to Variel's side. Sensing your presence, she looks at you with a mixture of gratitude and wariness. "Why?" you ask softly, hoping to ease her into sharing her thoughts. Variel's crimson eyes narrow, her voice taking on a deep and menacing tone. "Is your life worth the answer you seek?" she asks, her gaze piercing through you, daring you to push further. You sigh, feeling defeated. It seems that Variel is not yet ready to share her innermost thoughts and emotions. The laughter and jokes of your fellow soldiers echo in the distance, but Variel remains silent, her gaze fixed ahead, lost in her own world of memories. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "What other powers do you have?">> ""What other powers do you have? As you watch Variel with a mix of curiosity and awe, her eyes sparkle mischievously, and she tilts her head to the side, as if contemplating whether to share her secrets with you. You can't help but be captivated by her presence, especially after witnessing her wield fire, healing magic, and some sort of verbal spell. The air around you crackles with anticipation as you eagerly await her response. Variel's eyes glint mischievously, a flicker of amusement that lights up her features. Her head tilts to the side, an almost flirtatious gesture that sets the tone for the forthcoming exchange. Her words, delivered with a teasing lilt, lace the air like threads of an intricate tapestry. "Oh, why should I share such valuable information with you?" she questions, her voice a tantalizing melody that teases at the boundaries of your curiosity. Her lips curl into a smirk, a playful challenge that dances in her eyes. "You might use it against me, little mouse," she adds, her voice a velvet enticement that dances between amusement and veiled threat Your own laughter, low and melodious, ripples through the air. The irony of the situation isn't lost on you—the dragon who keeps her cards close to her chest, now faced with the same curiosity she so often incites. Variel observes you, her interest palpable as she awaits your response. With a decided shift, you embrace the game, adopting a playful attitude to match hers. You flash a mischievous grin, mirroring the smirk on Variel's face. In the depths of the forest, a mischievous glint dances in your eyes as you pause, savoring the moment. "Well, you know what they say," you begin, your voice dripping with playful intrigue. Variel, the stoic dragon by your side, raises an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," you finish, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth, mirroring Variel's expression. As your words hang in the air, Variel's laughter bursts forth, echoing through the forest and sending a flurry of frightened birds into the sky. The sound draws the attention of a few warriors riding in a cart ahead, their eyes widening with surprise. One of them, a supporter of the bet, gives you a thumbs up, a silent acknowledgment of your wit. A warm, satisfying feeling washes over you, a sense of accomplishment. You've managed to break through Variel's usual stoicism and bring joy to her heart. Glancing at her, you catch a glimpse of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Could this be the beginning of a true friendship? Hope fills your chest, intertwining with the sense of camaraderie that is blossoming between you and the mighty dragon. Variel tilts her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Wise words for a mouse," she teases, her voice laced with affectionate mockery. Your grin widens, a playful glint in your eyes. "Who knows," you respond, your voice laced with a hint of challenge. "Maybe one day, you'll be surprised by what this mouse can do." Variel chuckles softly, her laughter a warm melody that resonates through the air, carrying with it the promise of adventure. The dragon's smirk deepens, her gaze focused on you. "That will be the day!" she muses, her voice filled with anticipation. "As for your question," she continues, her voice lowering to a hushed whisper, "I do possess other skills." Variel's fingers curl, as if grasping at an invisible force that only she can see. A sudden drop in temperature fills the air, and tiny white particles materialize, dancing and swirling around her. The particles gather, their motion growing more frantic, until they coalesce into a solid, shimmering mass. The ball of ice glows with an ethereal light, casting a cool blue glow over Variel's face. Pride resonates in her voice as she holds the iceball up for you to see, her eyes gleaming with a newfound sense of power. "That is so //cool//!" you exclaim, your voice filled with wonder and awe as you gaze at the mesmerizing iceball. Your admiration is cut short as Variel's mischievous smirk widens, and without warning, she hurls the iceball directly at your face. The frozen projectile explodes on impact, sending a flurry of cold snow and ice cascading across your cheeks and into your hair. In that moment, surprise and shock paint your expression, leading Variel to burst into delighted laughter. As the snow melts against your flushed skin, you turn your attention to the warriors in front of you. Their laughter grates on your nerves, a discordant symphony that stirs anger within you. Shooting them a menacing glare, you hope to silence their mocking amusement, but they continue to laugh, their voices growing even louder. Returning your focus to Variel, your curiosity burns brighter than ever. "But other than that," you say, gesturing towards the now melting snow clinging to your face, "what else can you do?" Your voice holds a tinge of excitement, as you yearn to uncover the depths of Variel's abilities. Your mind races with possibilities, imagining the wonders that lie beyond the surface of the dragon's icy magic. Variel narrows her eyes playfully, her mischievous smile spreading like wildfire. "Hmmmm," she drags out, tapping a finger against her chin. "That's a secret," she whispers, her voice carrying a tantalizing note of mystery. Sticking her tongue out at you teasingly, she leaves you craving for more, aching to uncover the enigma that is Variel's true power. A look of mock horror washed over your face as Variel cheekily stuck her tongue out at you. "Now that's just mean!" you playfully protested, your expression a comical pout, reminiscent of a child wronged. Variel, however, seemed to take your words a tad more seriously. Her playful demeanor shifted, and she fixed her gaze on you, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Mean?" she replied, her tone taking on a sharp edge. "I could twist your neck any moment I want, and the only word you can think of is 'mean'?" Her words hung heavy in the air as her lips formed a thin line. Your eyes flickered with a mix of confusion and wariness, desperately trying to decipher whether Variel was being serious or merely continuing the jest. The atmosphere became tense as her words hinted at a darker intention. Was she actually threatening you? Just when you thought her threats might hold weight, Variel abruptly broke into a wide, mischievous grin, her laughter ringing through the forest. "Got you!" she exclaimed, still chuckling. "You should have seen the look on your face!" Relieved yet still caught in the whirlwind of her unpredictable nature, you managed a wry smile. Variel's ability to switch from menacing to playful in an instant was bewildering and captivating in equal measure. However, Variel's laughter gradually faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "But seriously," she continued, her voice taking on a low, menacing tone, "I could kill you right now if I wanted to." Your heartbeat quickened, and your eyes locked onto Variel's as she leaned forward, her presence becoming more imposing. A casual wave of her hand dispelled the threat, leaving you momentarily shaken. "So, what else do you want to know?" Variel inquired, her voice now filled with curiosity, as if the previous exchange had been nothing more than a fleeting diversion. You blinked a few times, trying to regain your composure and make sense of the enigmatic dragon before you. Her mercurial shifts in mood and tone were disorienting, but they also added a layer of intrigue to your burgeoning friendship. The forest's secrets paled in comparison to the mysteries that lay within Variel herself. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Where did you learn how to use this powers?">> The relentless sun bore down upon you, its scorching rays turning the day into an oven. Beads of sweat trickled down your forehead, and you couldn't help but appreciate the momentary respite that Variel's snowball had provided, offering a brief reprieve from the oppressive heat. Amidst the sweltering air, you turned your attention to Variel, curiosity fueling your inquiry. "Where did you learn how to use these powers?" you asked, your forearm used to wipe the glistening sweat from your brow. As Variel began to respond, her once-jolly expression transformed into one of wistfulness. "My father taught me," she replied, her voice taking on a somber and mournful tone. "Your father?" you repeated, eager to learn more about her past. Variel nodded slowly, her gaze drifting into the distance as if lost in a sea of memories. The playfulness that had defined her expression earlier had vanished, replaced by a solemn and almost mournful countenance. "Yes," she whispered, her voice barely above a hush. "My father was a powerful dragon, and a great wielder of magic. He taught me everything I know about magic and how to control my powers." Your eyes widen in surprise as Variel mentions her father teaching her. You had previously believed that she had killed her own father in your version of the story, in order to take his soul and power. And you recall that her father had actually wanted to take Variel's soul to increase his own powers. As a result, hearing Variel talk about her father and their good relationship is entirely new information for you. As you try to process this new information, the name ''//"Durandal, The Eternal Flame!"//'' escapes your lips, the words slipping out before you can even think to hold them back. Variel snapped her head at you with lightning speed, her gaze piercing through you like a hot knife through butter. You flinched involuntarily, feeling the intensity of her glare. "How did you know his name?" she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "I did some research!" you said quickly, trying to placate her. "Research?" Variel asked, but you could see smoke rising from her hand as she spoke. Variel's reaction was swift and intense. She snapped her head toward you with lightning speed, her gaze piercing through your very being. You flinched involuntarily under the weight of her scrutiny, feeling the intensity of her glare like a physical force. "How did you know his name?" she growled, her voice low and charged with danger. Caught off guard, you stammered, "I did some research!" Attempting to defuse the situation, you quickly added, "Research on the dragons and their histories." "Research?" Variel probed, her words accompanied by the unsettling sight of smoke rising from her hand. Summoning your courage, you straightened your posture and met Variel's intense gaze with a resolute expression, masking the nervousness that churned within you. The reins of your horse were clutched tightly, grounding you in the moment. "Of course," you began, your voice unwavering. "I'm a tracker, remember?" You paused for emphasis, taking a deep breath before continuing. "So, naturally, I did some research on my target." But Variel's suspicion remained palpable. Her eyes narrowed as she studied you, her voice tinged with skepticism. "But what does my father have to do with tracking me?" She pressed the question, her gaze unyielding. "Shit!" your internal cursing echoed loudly in your thoughts. She was right; tracking Variel had nothing to do with her father. "No matter," Variel's fingers gradually relaxed from their clenched position, and the billowing smoke that had once emanated from her fingertips dissipated. Her eyes, once filled with suspicion, now held a sense of calm. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as Variel seemed to let the subject drop. You silently thanked whatever forces might be watching that she wasn't pressing you further on the matter. The weight that had settled on your shoulders began to dissipate, leaving you feeling somewhat lighter. Your attention was soon drawn to a commotion nearby. Two men stood in front of a wooden cart, locked in a dispute over a shiny knife resting atop it. The first man, a burly brute with a scraggly beard, clenched the hilt of the blade tightly, his knuckles turning white. The other man, a lanky fellow with a thin mustache, tugged at the knife's other end, determined to wrest it from his adversary's grasp. "Hey, that's mine!" the burly man growled, his voice a low, guttural rumble, as he held firm to the knife. "No, that's mine!" the lanky man retorted, his voice laced with anger and desperation, as he pulled with all his might. Their argument escalated rapidly, the volume of their voices and the intensity of their physical struggle increasing. Fists met flesh with audible thuds, and a chorus of grunts and curses filled the air. "Hey, that's mine!" the burly man growled, his voice filled with a mix of anger and possessiveness. His knuckles turned pale as he tightened his grip on the knife, unwilling to relinquish his claim. "No, that's mine!" the lanky man retorted, his voice tinged with desperation. His face contorted in a fierce mixture of anger and determination as he tugged relentlessly on the other end of the knife. Their argument quickly escalated, fueling a storm of emotions that crackled in the air. Fists collided with flesh, producing a symphony of grunts, curses, and the distinct sound of impact. The intensity of their struggle seemed to mirror the intensity of the chaos surrounding you. Amidst the commotion, a voice boomed from inside the cart, its words slightly muffled. "If you two don't stop with that roughhousing, I will kick both of your arses!" The threat from the hidden voice did little to quell the escalating conflict. The two men continued to exchange heated words, their voices reaching a crescendo of anger and frustration. It was then that Variel's patience wore thin, her eyes blazing with an intensity that could rival a wildfire. "QUIET!" Variel's voice thundered across the clearing, reverberating with a power that demanded attention. The men flinched at the sheer force of her command, their heads hanging low in shame. A solitary vein throbbed in Variel's forehead, a visible manifestation of her mounting anger. Variel speaks in a stern tone, like a parent addressing a child and you return your attention back to her. "You may ask me one last question, little mouse," she says, her eyes locking onto yours with an intense gaze. Despite the chaos happening just a few feet away, Variel seems entirely focused on you and your conversation. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Are you in a relationship?">> You take a deep breath, feeling a bead of sweat trickling down the back of your neck. You can't believe you're about to ask Variel if she's ever had a love life. Your heart races as you form the question in your mind, daring to voice it. "Are you..." you gasp the words, feeling your tongue dry. "Are me what?" Variel interrupts you, her tone laced with annoyance. Her eyes narrow as she stares at you, waiting for you to finish your sentence. You try to take a deep breath, but your lungs feel constricted as if they are filled with hot air. You push the words out of your mouth, feeling like you are about to suffocate. "Are you..." you manage to gasp, and then you pause, trying to gather the courage to finish your sentence. "Finish your damn sentence human!" Variel's voice slices through the air, and before you know it, she has surged forward and seized you by your collar, pulling you closer to her face. Her eyes are blazing with anger, and her grip is tight, making it hard for you to breathe. You feel the heat radiating from Variel's body, and her grip on your clothes tightens even more. Your heart races as you struggle to keep your balance on your horse, your eyes locked onto Variel's intense gaze. "Are you in a relationship?" The words spill out of your mouth with an unexpected ease, surprising even yourself. The moment you spoke, the caravan erupted in a chorus of whistles and hollers. The sound echoed off the hills and you could feel the weight of everyone's gaze on you. "Hell yeah, that's our tracker right there!" a voice yelled out, followed by raucous laughter from the crowd. "Who would have thought that they have the guts to ask a dragon on a date!" You could feel the heat rising to your face as Variel's eyes bore into you, her expression unreadable. The sudden attention was suffocating, but you remained steadfast and lock eyes with her. For a moment, Variel doesn't say anything. You hold your breath, waiting for her response, wondering if you've gone too far. But then, finally, she lets out a deep, rumbling laugh. "In a relationship?" she repeats, still chuckling. "You humans and your obsession with such things. No, little mouse, I am not in a relationship!" "That's nice!" you sigh a breath of relief. Variel's lips curve upward as she asks, "Nice, little mouse?" You can feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment as your body shifts uncomfortably in the saddle. Suddenly, your weight shifts too far back, and you begin to slip off the horse. Just in time, Variel's strong grip on your clothes keeps you from tumbling to the ground. As you struggle to regain your balance, the crowd around you erupts into laughter and jeers. "Ohhhh!" they taunt, thoroughly enjoying your embarrassment. "Looks like the dragon's got this one in the bag!" one man declares, adding to the collective amusement. Variel leans in closer, her eyes fixed on yours. You can feel her breath on your face, hot and heavy. "You know, little mouse," she says. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're infatuated with me." As she speaks, Variel lifts you up and places you back on the horse, but she doesn't release her grip on your clothes. You can feel her strength in every fiber of her being, and you know that if she wanted to, she could crush you like a bug. You gasp and instinctively grab onto Variel's forearm, your fingers tightening around her scales. "Infatuated with you?" you sputter, feeling a mix of embarrassment and disbelief. Variel's grip on you doesn't falter, but you can see the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. Variel leans closer to you, her eyes glinting mischievously. "Why yes!" she exclaims, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "I mean, you keep coming back to me, no matter how many times I cut you down or insult you." She tilts her head to the side, studying you with interest. "I can even safely say that you're seeking the pain!" "Preposterous!" you say and Variel pulled you towards her slightly, your ass slipping of agin in the saddle. "Is it really preposterous?" she ask her eyes turning into slits. "Yes!" you shout your answer at Variel, your voice cracking with nervousness. Variel turns to Beatrice. "Beatrice can you give us some space?" Variel request of Beatrice and Beatrice obliged and started to move away. "Hey, come back here!" you shout, your voice high-pitched with fear and cling to her belly in an attempt to stay on. Beatrice snorts in your direction and begins to amble away at a leisurely pace. "Even Beatrice agrees with me!" Variel laughs. "Your taking her side?" you ask hurt by Beatrice's betrayal. You look at Variel with suspicion and point an accusing finger at her. "Alright, what kind of charm have you placed on her?" you accuse her, still hurt by Beatrice's betrayal. Variel lets out a boisterous laugh. "Oh, little mouse. You are just too funny," she says, shaking her head. "I haven't placed any charm on her. Beatrice just knows who her true ally is." Beatrice snorts in agreement, seemingly proud of herself for having made the right choice. A voice from the front called out, "Should we help?" and you felt a glimmer of hope. But then, another voice quickly shushed them. "Don't interfere, the drama is getting good!" Your heart sank with fear and you gulped, your life is on the palm of Variel both literally and metaphorically. Variel chuckles, her eyes glinting with amusement. "In fact," she says, leaning in closer, "she told me how you're an amateur and how you're pathetic at lying!" You shake your head, trying to process the situation. "You're lying," you repeat, but Variel just laughs. "Beatrice, dear," Variel calls out, her voice sweet as honey. "Can you come here? My arm is getting tired." Beatrice turns her head and walks slowly towards you and Variel. Variel uses this opportunity to loosen her grip on your clothes and settling you on the saddle. Then she let go of your cloth. "Also, I'm aware of the //BET//!" Variel's voice boomed, and her glare fixed on the men in front. The men shifted, some whistling nervously, others pretending to be busy polishing their swords or adjusting their boots, anything to avoid her gaze. "You do?" you say awkwardly. "Variel's eyes meet yours, her expression amused. "Oh yes, Beatrice and I are good friends. She tells me everything," she says, her voice tinged with a playful tone. As if on cue, Beatrice snorts, causing Variel to chuckle. You shift uncomfortably in the saddle, unsure of what to say next. Variel's words have left you feeling exposed and vulnerable. Beatrice's snort breaks the silence, and Variel looks at her fondly. "Ah, Beatrice, you always know how to lighten the mood," she says, running a hand over the horse's mane. You clear your throat. "So, what exactly did Beatrice tell you about the bet?" you ask, trying to sound casual. Variel turns her attention back to you, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Oh, just that you're trying to win my favor by completing some ridiculous task, and that you're willing to do whatever it takes to succeed," she says with a smirk. Your face flushes with embarrassment, and you look away, feeling the weight of her gaze on you. As Beatrice snorts again, you shoot her a suspicious glance. "You need to be careful around this horse, she's a snitch!" you mutter to yourself, making a mental note to keep your guard up around her. Then you hear again the man talking at cart in front of you. "Did you hear that? She can talk to animals!" one voice whispers. The others gasp in surprise and disbelief. "Oh crap, that's not good!" another voice exclaims, sounding terrified. "Why?" a third voice asks, clearly curious. "I keep telling secrets to Maria all the time!" the first voice confesses. "Who's Maria?" the third voice asks, sounding exasperated. "You know, the caramel horse that is pulling this wagon right now, that's Maria!" the first voice says, as if it's obvious. "Wait, you're talking to a horse?" a voice asked in disbelief. "Why? I don't see the problem in that and besides, I get lonely sometimes!" the voice said with a hint of sadness. The first voice speaks up again, "But what if she tells someone your secrets?" The man laughs, "Oh, Maria wouldn't do that. She's the best listener I've ever had, and she keeps my secrets safe, I hope so!" This days has been weird and the weirder it gets when you're with Variel. Suddenly, Variel addresses her horse in a soft voice. "Don't be mean, Layla," she says, stroking the horse's mane. Layla whinnies in response, and Variel laughs. You roll your eyes, feeling a mixture of annoyance and confusion. Can horses be trusted on this world? It's all too bizarre for you to wrap your head around. "So little mouse, you've asked your questions, and I think it's only fair if I ask one in return," she says, a playful glint in her eyes. You shift in your saddle, unsure of how to respond. "Um, sure," you say, your voice a little shaky. Variel leans forward, her eyes sparkling. "Why are you pursuing me?" she asks, her tone curious. The group of men in front of you grew hushed, their eyes fixed on you and Variel. You felt the weight of their attention and discomfort settled in the pit of your stomach. Suddenly, one of them spoke up, shushing his companions. "Shhhh, be quiet, I'm listening!" he said, his gaze fixed on the two of you. You bristled at his interruption. "Can you please mind your own business?" you snapped, turning to face them with a glare. But the men didn't flinch or back down. Instead, they continued to watch you with eager anticipation. The sounds of the men's whispers and chuckles fade into the background as Variel's voice brings you back to the present. Her eyes lock onto yours and a small smile tugs at the corners of her lips. "Don't mind them MC, keep your focus on me," she says, her tone cool and collected. You feel a sudden rush of warmth spread through your body, and you adjust your butt in your saddle, trying to shake off the feeling. But Variel's gaze is too intense, too captivating. You find yourself unable to look away, and the way she says your name makes your stomach flutter . [[I like living with the thrill of danger by my side]] [[You're interesting]] [[You're hot]] [[Bold of you to assume that I'm chasing you]] <</linkreplace>>

A torrent of emotions surged within you, threatening to overwhelm your senses. Desperation gripped your entire being as you watched Clara, her condition a source of worry that filled your every thought. It was as if the person you knew had been replaced by a shadow of herself, and you couldn't fathom what had led to this point. "What's going on?" You couldn't help but exclaim, the words escaping your lips with a mixture of fear and confusion. The sight of Clara in her current state was a painful revelation, one that left you feeling helpless and lost. "You are not yourself anymore!" Your voice trembled with genuine concern as you took in the toll that whatever had transpired had taken on her. She appeared fragile, as if a strong wind could blow her away. Her once vibrant spirit seemed to have dimmed, leaving behind a haunting emptiness. "What can I do?" The frustration and anger welled up within you, directed at yourself for not being able to find her sooner, for not being there when she needed you the most. It was a maelstrom of guilt and regret, and you longed for a way to make amends. ''//How could you have missed the signs?//'' Clara, for her part, looked exhausted, as if speaking was a taxing endeavor. Her words came out in strained whispers, and her appearance was a stark contrast to the vibrant and lively person you had known. She seemed thinner, deprived of sleep and vitality, as though she had been through a harrowing ordeal. "Me just catching up with my responsibilities!" The room was filled with an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of Clara's shallow breaths. Her face was pale and gaunt, her eyes hollow and haunted. It was evident that she had been through unimaginable horrors, her very essence tarnished by the darkness she had endured. You approached her cautiously, your heart heavy with empathy. Her words had cut through you like sharp daggers, leaving a wound that seemed impossible to heal. You could see the pain etched on her face, a reflection of the atrocities she had witnessed. It was a testament to the darker side of humanity, a side you had unfortunately become all too familiar with. As you gently placed a firm hand on her trembling shoulder, you could feel the weight of her suffering. "We're gonna get you through this, Clara," you whispered, your voice filled with determination. "Whatever it takes, we'll be there for you." Clara's tear-filled eyes met yours, her gaze pleading for understanding. Her voice was barely audible, as if she feared the weight of her words would shatter the fragile hope that remained within her. "I just need to grow up," she murmured, her voice quivering with exhaustion. "Grow up for my people, then everything will be alright." Your heart ached at her words, the depth of her pain reverberating through your very being. You could sense the desperation in her voice, the yearning for redemption. She believed that by shouldering the burden of maturity, she could protect those she loved and find solace in the aftermath of her harrowing ordeal. "You don't need to this alone Clara!" you implore her. Clara's gaze flickered, her eyes darting to the side, as if seeking escape from the tumultuous conversation. Her body was taut, as if ready to bolt at any moment. The room was filled with a deafening silence, broken only by the sound of your own racing heartbeat. The weight of unspoken words hung in the air like a thundercloud, ready to unleash a torrential downpour of emotions. Finally, Clara spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of a lifetime of struggles. "I appreciate your concern," she admitted, her voice quivering with vulnerability. "But there are some battles that can't be shared, some burdens that must be carried alone." You slammed your hand down on the table books, stylus and papers rattling from the impact. "You know it doesn't have to be like that!" you plead with her, wanting to make her understand she doesn't need to play the matyr. Clara's once proud posture wilted, her shoulders drooping in defeat. The weight of her despair was palpable as she stood in the dimly lit library, her gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the worn bookshelves. The air hung heavy with tension, and a somber silence enveloped the room. Moved by her visible anguish, you stepped forward, your heart aching to offer her some solace. With a gentle touch, your hand found its place on her trembling shoulder, a small gesture of comfort amidst the storm of emotions that engulfed her. "Clara," you whispered, your voice filled with compassion, "talk to me. Share with me the pain that burdens your soul. What happened during those six long months you were missing? What has brought you to this point of despair?" The mere mention of her mysterious disappearance seemed to shatter something within Clara. The mask of calm, collected composure that she had worn so diligently crumbled, revealing the raw vulnerability beneath. In a desperate grasp for support, she clutched onto the nearest chair, her knuckles turning white from the force of her grip. It was a heartbreaking sight that you could no longer bear to witness, and without hesitation, you took a seat beside her, drawing her into your embrace. Wrapping your arm around her trembling shoulders, you sought to provide a sense of warmth and empathy in the face of her overwhelming pain. The atmosphere crackled with an unspoken intensity, as if the room itself had been transformed into a crucible for Clara's torment. "What has happened to you, Clara?" you repeated, your voice quivering with a mixture of fear and concern. The words hung heavily in the air, pregnant with the weight of her suffering. Every fiber of your being yearned to understand the depths of her anguish, to help her find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos. Clara's breath quivered as if carrying the weight of her untold sorrow. With each inhalation, her body trembled, a tempest of emotions barely contained within her fragile frame. Her voice, once filled with vitality, had now faded to a mere whisper, a ghost of its former self. "It's my fault," she confessed, her words a mournful lament that hung in the air like a haunting melody. Her eyes, glistening with unshed tears, searched the room as if seeking refuge in the shadows. Your concern deepened, a knot of worry tightening in your chest. "What do you mean?" you pressed, your voice edged with a growing sense of unease. Clara hesitated, her struggle to articulate her torment palpable. It was as if the memories she was about to share were shards of a shattered mirror, each piece reflecting a different facet of her pain. Her voice trembled, a delicate flame flickering in a tumultuous wind as she began to reveal the depths of her longing. Her words were not mere sentences but a confession, a revelation of a dream that had simmered in the shadows of her heart for as long as memory served her. "I've always dreamed of exploring the unknown, of venturing into uncharted territories," Clara began, her words hanging in the air like a confession of a long-held secret. The weight of her words bore heavily upon her, threatening to crush her spirit. It was a desire that had tugged at her heartstrings since she was but a child, whispering promises of untold wonders. But as her voice trailed off, a mixture of anger and self-blame welled up within her. She turned away, withdrawing from the your, as if unable to face the judgment that her own conscience imposed upon her. "How selfish of me!" she exclaimed, her voice dripping with frustration. "To think that I, a princess, could dare to entertain such dreams, all the while disregarding the safety and needs of my own people." Her anger surged through her veins, fueling the fire within her. The weight of responsibility bore down upon her slender shoulders, threatening to break her spirit. How could she, in good conscience, abandon her duties and chase after her own passions? The conflict within her raged like a tempest, tossing her emotions to and fro. The weight of anguish etched itself on her face as tears began to flow, a quiet and almost imperceptible stream that betrayed the magnitude of her pain. Her eyes, brimming with unspoken sorrow, turned to you, seeking solace in your presence. "Forgive me, <<print $player_name>>," she murmured, her voice laden with guilt, "for burdening you with such woes." Your heart ached for her, feeling an inexplicable connection to her suffering. You stood before her, witnessing the unbreakable chains that bound her, constricting her every move. She was a bird trapped in a gilded cage, yearning for the freedom of flight. Yet, fate had dealt her a different hand, forcing her to make an agonizing choice between duty and desire. With gentle sincerity, you spoke her name, "Clara," your voice filled with compassion and a longing to ease her pain. You wished you could offer her a lifeline in this sea of despair, a way to navigate the treacherous waters of her heart. "Why can't you pursue your dreams?" you asked, a hint of desperation coloring your words. "Don't you have the right to seek fulfillment and happiness?" Clara sighed, the sound heavy with desperation and defeat. "It's not that simple, <<print $player_name>>," she replied, her voice tinged with resignation. "A crown comes with a hefty price." Her words hung in the air, pregnant with meaning, like a prophecy waiting to be fulfilled. "I'm bound by responsibilities I can't ignore, duties that I have to fulfill," she continued, her voice laced with a sense of duty that threatened to consume her very soul. Silence enveloped the room, amplifying the suffocating weight of her confession. It was as if the world was holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable. "All those nights I spent dreaming of adventures," Clara murmured, her voice trembling, "I would never have imagined the price I'd have to pay." The scene unfolded before you like a haunting nightmare, casting a shadow over the room and plunging it into darkness. The walls seemed to close in, trapping you in a suffocating embrace, rendering you helpless to intervene. "When I set out to explore the realm beyond these castle walls," Clara revealed, her face obscured by a haze of memories, "I was filled with exhilaration and anticipation. My desire to experience the beauty and mystery of the unknown overrode my sense of duty, and I embarked on a journey I never could have anticipated." Her tears flowed freely, glistening like diamonds strewn across her face in the dim light. You listened intently, fully immersed in the web of her secret story, the threads of her confessions weaving together before your eyes. "But what I found beyond these walls was not freedom, but despair," she choked, the weight of her confession bearing down on her fragile frame. Her trembling fingers betrayed the turmoil within her. As you searched for the right words, the emptiness in her eyes caught your attention. It was as if her dream had transformed from a distant vision to a waking nightmare. "I knew there was no turning back," Clara whispered, her voice quavering with emotion. "I could no longer cling to the fantasies I once held dear." After a moment of silence, her tone grew defiant, as if she were standing up against the silent judgment of fate. "But," she sighed, her eyes searching yours, "a part of me still longs for a future beyond these walls. A future where I can be free to explore the unknown, to chart a path through unexplored territories. Am I wrong to dream of such things?" In that moment, a shift occurred within you. You could see the profound longing in her gaze, a yearning for something just out of reach. It ebbed and flowed like a tide, an ever-present whisper of a world that beckoned her. Determination swelled within your chest, and you took a step forward, your voice trembling with intensity. "Clara, no!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your emotions any longer. "You're not wrong for dreaming of such things. Dreams are what give us hope, even in the darkest of times. Don't let anyone or anything strip you of that." A flicker of gratitude and understanding danced across Clara's face as a smile bloomed. "MC," she said, her voice filled with warmth, "you truly are a loyal friend. Your words mean the world to me. I'm grateful for your support, even if I struggle to find it within myself." "I've been running from my responsibilities for far too long. No more!" Clara's voice shook with unwavering conviction, each word a resolute declaration that carried the weight of a million silent promises. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a newfound clarity that had eluded her for too long. In that transformative moment, the vitality returned to her eyes, a radiance mirroring the spark that had ignited your friendship. "Where there was darkness," Clara murmured, her voice quivering with raw emotion, "there is now light." She leaned in closer, a glint of defiance flickering in her eyes like a beacon of hope. "Never again shall I permit fear to shackle me. No matter the obstacles that lie ahead, I shall press onward, driven by the fervor for a future that is both luminous and unbound. This future is no longer just a fantasy; it is a reality I can see and touch." Suddenly, Clara's trembling hands found their way to your shoulders, her unwavering gaze locked onto yours. Her eyes blazed with a fervent passion, a flame that kindled your own determination, imparting a sense of purpose that surged within you. In the depths of her unwavering stare, you could discern the faint outline of a dream—an indomitable dream that would echo through the annals of time, a dream that you, too, would come to embrace. "That's right," you affirmed, your voice imbued with unyielding resolve. "Together, we can forge that future into reality. We shall stand as comrades, shoulder to shoulder, and wage a battle for a kingdom that is not only just but also free. It is a battle worth fighting, a dream worth pursuing." At that very moment, a subtle rustling emanated from the shadows, and the commanding voice of Sarah interjected, demanding the attention of all. "Indeed, MC," she asserted, her words ringing with authority. "For the weight of the crown does not rest upon a solitary throne but upon the collective effort of the people. It is incumbent upon us, as a united force, to bear this dream, nurture it, and bring it to fruition." Clara's fingers released their hold on your shoulder, and she turned her attention to Sarah, a glimmer of happiness dancing in her eyes. "Sarah," she spoke with a hint of admiration, "I'm truly honored to finally meet the top Eye of my mother's department." Her nod was a gesture of deep respect, acknowledging Sarah's significance in the realm of their responsibilities. Sarah gracefully drops down to one knee, her eyes locked with Clara's. "The honor is mine, your princess," she says, her voice filled with reverence. "But I must speak to you in private, for a matter that only your ears should hear." Sarah tilts her head upwards, her gaze never leaving Clara's face. Clara's gaze shifted to you, a hint of hesitation in her expression. "Forgive me, <<print $player_name>>," she said with sincerity, "but I must attend to this matter, and I'm in your debt for talking to me." Her gratitude was palpable, a genuine appreciation for your presence and understanding. You bowed your head in acknowledgment, feeling a sense of fulfillment in having been able to assist her in her time of need. "No need for apologies, Clara. I'm always here to lend a hand if you require it," you assured her, turning on your heel and making your way towards the room's exit. [[Next|Clara And Sarah Day Out]]

In the dimly lit room, Clara's strained smile barely concealed the turmoil within her. The shadows danced across her face, emphasizing the weariness etched into every line. You could see it in the way her eyes lacked their usual sparkle, the way her shoulders slumped as if carrying a heavy burden. Her presence was a mere facade, a charade put on for politeness' sake. "Not only me, Clara," you began earnestly, your voice tinged with genuine concern. "You've been absent from our lives lately, and it worries me. I genuinely care about you. Please, talk to me." Clara's reaction was as enigmatic as ever. She tilted her head to the side, a gesture that made her appear like a curious, wounded animal. Her lips quirked upward in that strained smile once more, but it couldn't hide the exhaustion that engulfed her. "Well," she said with a sigh, her voice carrying the weight of unspoken troubles, "I'm fine, as you can see." She gestured to herself, the weariness in her movements contrasting with her words. You leaned closer, your eyes locked onto hers, searching for answers. "Clara," you implored, your voice trembling with urgency. "Don't shut me out. I know there's something more beneath the surface. You don't have to bear this alone." Clara's gaze flickered, her eyes darting to the side, as if seeking escape from the tumultuous conversation. Her body was taut, as if ready to bolt at any moment. The room was filled with a deafening silence, broken only by the sound of your own racing heartbeat. The weight of unspoken words hung in the air like a thundercloud, ready to unleash a torrential downpour of emotions. Finally, Clara spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of a lifetime of struggles. "I appreciate your concern," she admitted, her voice quivering with vulnerability. "But there are some battles that can't be shared, some burdens that must be carried alone." You slammed your hand down on the table books, stylus and papers rattling from the impact. "You know it doesn't have to be like that!" you plead with her, wanting to make her understand she doesn't need to play the matyr. Clara's once proud posture wilted, her shoulders drooping in defeat. The weight of her despair was palpable as she stood in the dimly lit library, her gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the worn bookshelves. The air hung heavy with tension, and a somber silence enveloped the room. Moved by her visible anguish, you stepped forward, your heart aching to offer her some solace. With a gentle touch, your hand found its place on her trembling shoulder, a small gesture of comfort amidst the storm of emotions that engulfed her. "Clara," you whispered, your voice filled with compassion, "talk to me. Share with me the pain that burdens your soul. What happened during those six long months you were missing? What has brought you to this point of despair?" The mere mention of her mysterious disappearance seemed to shatter something within Clara. The mask of calm, collected composure that she had worn so diligently crumbled, revealing the raw vulnerability beneath. In a desperate grasp for support, she clutched onto the nearest chair, her knuckles turning white from the force of her grip. It was a heartbreaking sight that you could no longer bear to witness, and without hesitation, you took a seat beside her, drawing her into your embrace. Wrapping your arm around her trembling shoulders, you sought to provide a sense of warmth and empathy in the face of her overwhelming pain. The atmosphere crackled with an unspoken intensity, as if the room itself had been transformed into a crucible for Clara's torment. "What has happened to you, Clara?" you repeated, your voice quivering with a mixture of fear and concern. The words hung heavily in the air, pregnant with the weight of her suffering. Every fiber of your being yearned to understand the depths of her anguish, to help her find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos. Clara's breath quivered as if carrying the weight of her untold sorrow. With each inhalation, her body trembled, a tempest of emotions barely contained within her fragile frame. Her voice, once filled with vitality, had now faded to a mere whisper, a ghost of its former self. "It's my fault," she confessed, her words a mournful lament that hung in the air like a haunting melody. Her eyes, glistening with unshed tears, searched the room as if seeking refuge in the shadows. Your concern deepened, a knot of worry tightening in your chest. "What do you mean?" you pressed, your voice edged with a growing sense of unease. Clara hesitated, her struggle to articulate her torment palpable. It was as if the memories she was about to share were shards of a shattered mirror, each piece reflecting a different facet of her pain. Her voice trembled, a delicate flame flickering in a tumultuous wind as she began to reveal the depths of her longing. Her words were not mere sentences but a confession, a revelation of a dream that had simmered in the shadows of her heart for as long as memory served her. "I've always dreamed of exploring the unknown, of venturing into uncharted territories," Clara began, her words hanging in the air like a confession of a long-held secret. The weight of her words bore heavily upon her, threatening to crush her spirit. It was a desire that had tugged at her heartstrings since she was but a child, whispering promises of untold wonders. But as her voice trailed off, a mixture of anger and self-blame welled up within her. She turned away, withdrawing from the your, as if unable to face the judgment that her own conscience imposed upon her. "How selfish of me!" she exclaimed, her voice dripping with frustration. "To think that I, a princess, could dare to entertain such dreams, all the while disregarding the safety and needs of my own people." Her anger surged through her veins, fueling the fire within her. The weight of responsibility bore down upon her slender shoulders, threatening to break her spirit. How could she, in good conscience, abandon her duties and chase after her own passions? The conflict within her raged like a tempest, tossing her emotions to and fro. The weight of anguish etched itself on her face as tears began to flow, a quiet and almost imperceptible stream that betrayed the magnitude of her pain. Her eyes, brimming with unspoken sorrow, turned to you, seeking solace in your presence. "Forgive me, <<print $player_name>>," she murmured, her voice laden with guilt, "for burdening you with such woes." Your heart ached for her, feeling an inexplicable connection to her suffering. You stood before her, witnessing the unbreakable chains that bound her, constricting her every move. She was a bird trapped in a gilded cage, yearning for the freedom of flight. Yet, fate had dealt her a different hand, forcing her to make an agonizing choice between duty and desire. With gentle sincerity, you spoke her name, "Clara," your voice filled with compassion and a longing to ease her pain. You wished you could offer her a lifeline in this sea of despair, a way to navigate the treacherous waters of her heart. "Why can't you pursue your dreams?" you asked, a hint of desperation coloring your words. "Don't you have the right to seek fulfillment and happiness?" Clara sighed, the sound heavy with desperation and defeat. "It's not that simple, <<print $player_name>>," she replied, her voice tinged with resignation. "A crown comes with a hefty price." Her words hung in the air, pregnant with meaning, like a prophecy waiting to be fulfilled. "I'm bound by responsibilities I can't ignore, duties that I have to fulfill," she continued, her voice laced with a sense of duty that threatened to consume her very soul. Silence enveloped the room, amplifying the suffocating weight of her confession. It was as if the world was holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable. "All those nights I spent dreaming of adventures," Clara murmured, her voice trembling, "I would never have imagined the price I'd have to pay." The scene unfolded before you like a haunting nightmare, casting a shadow over the room and plunging it into darkness. The walls seemed to close in, trapping you in a suffocating embrace, rendering you helpless to intervene. "When I set out to explore the realm beyond these castle walls," Clara revealed, her face obscured by a haze of memories, "I was filled with exhilaration and anticipation. My desire to experience the beauty and mystery of the unknown overrode my sense of duty, and I embarked on a journey I never could have anticipated." Her tears flowed freely, glistening like diamonds strewn across her face in the dim light. You listened intently, fully immersed in the web of her secret story, the threads of her confessions weaving together before your eyes. "But what I found beyond these walls was not freedom, but despair," she choked, the weight of her confession bearing down on her fragile frame. Her trembling fingers betrayed the turmoil within her. As you searched for the right words, the emptiness in her eyes caught your attention. It was as if her dream had transformed from a distant vision to a waking nightmare. "I knew there was no turning back," Clara whispered, her voice quavering with emotion. "I could no longer cling to the fantasies I once held dear." After a moment of silence, her tone grew defiant, as if she were standing up against the silent judgment of fate. "But," she sighed, her eyes searching yours, "a part of me still longs for a future beyond these walls. A future where I can be free to explore the unknown, to chart a path through unexplored territories. Am I wrong to dream of such things?" In that moment, a shift occurred within you. You could see the profound longing in her gaze, a yearning for something just out of reach. It ebbed and flowed like a tide, an ever-present whisper of a world that beckoned her. Determination swelled within your chest, and you took a step forward, your voice trembling with intensity. "Clara, no!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your emotions any longer. "You're not wrong for dreaming of such things. Dreams are what give us hope, even in the darkest of times. Don't let anyone or anything strip you of that." A flicker of gratitude and understanding danced across Clara's face as a smile bloomed. "<<print $player_name>>," she said, her voice filled with warmth, "you truly are a loyal friend. Your words mean the world to me. I'm grateful for your support, even if I struggle to find it within myself." "I've been running from my responsibilities for far too long. No more!" Clara's voice shook with unwavering conviction, each word a resolute declaration that carried the weight of a million silent promises. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a newfound clarity that had eluded her for too long. In that transformative moment, the vitality returned to her eyes, a radiance mirroring the spark that had ignited your friendship. "Where there was darkness," Clara murmured, her voice quivering with raw emotion, "there is now light." She leaned in closer, a glint of defiance flickering in her eyes like a beacon of hope. "Never again shall I permit fear to shackle me. No matter the obstacles that lie ahead, I shall press onward, driven by the fervor for a future that is both luminous and unbound. This future is no longer just a fantasy; it is a reality I can see and touch." Suddenly, Clara's trembling hands found their way to your shoulders, her unwavering gaze locked onto yours. Her eyes blazed with a fervent passion, a flame that kindled your own determination, imparting a sense of purpose that surged within you. In the depths of her unwavering stare, you could discern the faint outline of a dream—an indomitable dream that would echo through the annals of time, a dream that you, too, would come to embrace. "That's right," you affirmed, your voice imbued with unyielding resolve. "Together, we can forge that future into reality. We shall stand as comrades, shoulder to shoulder, and wage a battle for a kingdom that is not only just but also free. It is a battle worth fighting, a dream worth pursuing." At that very moment, a subtle rustling emanated from the shadows, and the commanding voice of Sarah interjected, demanding the attention of all. "Indeed, <<print $player_name>>," she asserted, her words ringing with authority. "For the weight of the crown does not rest upon a solitary throne but upon the collective effort of the people. It is incumbent upon us, as a united force, to bear this dream, nurture it, and bring it to fruition." Clara's fingers released their hold on your shoulder, and she turned her attention to Sarah, a glimmer of happiness dancing in her eyes. "Sarah," she spoke with a hint of admiration, "I'm truly honored to finally meet the top Eye of my mother's department." Her nod was a gesture of deep respect, acknowledging Sarah's significance in the realm of their responsibilities. Sarah gracefully drops down to one knee, her eyes locked with Clara's. "The honor is mine, your princess," she says, her voice filled with reverence. "But I must speak to you in private, for a matter that only your ears should hear." Sarah tilts her head upwards, her gaze never leaving Clara's face. Clara's gaze shifted to you, a hint of hesitation in her expression. "Forgive me, <<print$player_name>>," she said with sincerity, "but I must attend to this matter, and I'm in your debt for talking to me." Her gratitude was palpable, a genuine appreciation for your presence and understanding. You bowed your head in acknowledgment, feeling a sense of fulfillment in having been able to assist her in her time of need. "No need for apologies, Clara. I'm always here to lend a hand if you require it," you assured her, turning on your heel and making your way towards the room's exit. [[Next|Clara And Sarah Day Out]]

As you observed Clara in her current state, a torrent of thoughts and emotions churned within you. The contrast between the vibrant, spirited Clara you once knew and the person before you now was stark and heart-wrenching. "Clara, what have you become?" you couldn't help but wonder, your inner voice filled with a profound sense of sadness. The fiery determination that had once burned brightly in her eyes had been extinguished, replaced by a cold, vacant stare. The warm, flirty smile that had adorned her face like a ray of sunshine was now absent, replaced by chapped lips drawn into a tight, unyielding line. Her laughter, once a joyful melody that echoed through the air, had been silenced, leaving behind an unsettling void. It was as if Clara had undergone a metamorphosis, shedding her old self and emerging as something entirely different. The change was so drastic, so profound, that it was hard to recognize the person standing before you. Her once luscious, flowing hair now hung limp and lifeless, as if it had lost all vitality. The exhaustion etched on her face was evident, with dark circles under her eyes and a pallor that spoke of sleepless nights and endless worries. As you observed her, a mix of conflicting emotions washed over you. Anger at the circumstances that had brought her to this point, sadness at the loss of the vibrant spirit she once possessed. The air around you seemed heavy with the weight of unspoken words, as if the room itself held its breath, bracing for the storm that was about to unfold. Clara's voice, strained and weary, pierced through the silence of the room, each word bearing the weight of her burdens. Her gaze was distant, a touch of bitterness lacing her words as she spoke. "I should have done more," she lamented, her voice trembling with regret. "I should be fulfilling my duties but I'm wasting time on childish pranks and worthless entertainment!" Intrigued by her melancholic state, you approached Clara, narrowing the distance between you. With an attempt at confidence, your voice faltered slightly as you tried to lift her spirits. "I never pegged you as a bookworm!" you exclaimed, a hint of excitement in your tone. Clara turned her gaze toward you, weariness etched into her features. "I'm not," she replied with a hint of irony, a tired smile playing at the corners of her lips. "But as you can see, I'm remedying that." She gestured around the table, where a chaotic assortment of books and grimoires lay open, their pages filled with intricate symbols and diagrams. The inky stains on her fingers spoke of long hours spent poring over their contents. As you stood in awe, your eyes fixed upon the impressive collection of tomes by Clara's side, you couldn't help but sense a lingering fear in her eyes. It sent a chill creeping down your spine, as if the weight of her ambitions weighed heavily on your own shoulders. In that moment, a profound realization dawned upon you: Clara, the young princess determined to prove her worth as royalty within a short timeframe, was pushing herself to the limits. And yet, despite her relentless efforts, she still seemed far from achieving the epitome of a seasoned ruler. As if sensing your growing concern, Clara rose from her seat, her gaze shifting from you to the ground. The weariness in her sigh was palpable as she leaned against the table, her legs seemingly unable to bear the weight of her own body any longer. Her voice, tinged with a hint of melancholy, resonated softly in the room. "It's okay, MC," she reassured you, her words laden with the weight of her struggles. "I just need some time to recharge, that's all." Your heart swelled with compassion as you smiled warmly, desperately yearning to banish the haunted look from Clara's eyes. Deep down, you knew that her resilience and unwavering determination would carry her through this crisis, but you couldn't help but be consumed by worry. The toll this relentless pursuit of perfection was taking on her mental and physical health weighed heavily upon your mind. "I am here for you, Clara," you offered, your voice filled with sincerity and determination. "I will accompany you on this journey, supporting you every step of the way." Determination swelled within your chest, and you took a step forward, your voice trembling with intensity. "Clara, no!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your emotions any longer. "You're not wrong for dreaming of such things. Dreams are what give us hope, even in the darkest of times. Don't let anyone or anything strip you of that." A flicker of gratitude and understanding danced across Clara's face as a smile bloomed. "MC," she said, her voice filled with warmth, "you truly are a loyal friend. Your words mean the world to me. I'm grateful for your support, even if I struggle to find it within myself." "I've been running from my responsibilities for far too long. No more!" Clara's voice shook with unwavering conviction, each word a resolute declaration that carried the weight of a million silent promises. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a newfound clarity that had eluded her for too long. In that transformative moment, the vitality returned to her eyes, a radiance mirroring the spark that had ignited your friendship. "Where there was darkness," Clara murmured, her voice quivering with raw emotion, "there is now light." She leaned in closer, a glint of defiance flickering in her eyes like a beacon of hope. "Never again shall I permit fear to shackle me. No matter the obstacles that lie ahead, I shall press onward, driven by the fervor for a future that is both luminous and unbound. This future is no longer just a fantasy; it is a reality I can see and touch." Suddenly, Clara's trembling hands found their way to your shoulders, her unwavering gaze locked onto yours. Her eyes blazed with a fervent passion, a flame that kindled your own determination, imparting a sense of purpose that surged within you. In the depths of her unwavering stare, you could discern the faint outline of a dream—an indomitable dream that would echo through the annals of time, a dream that you, too, would come to embrace. "That's right," you affirmed, your voice imbued with unyielding resolve. "Together, we can forge that future into reality. We shall stand as comrades, shoulder to shoulder, and wage a battle for a kingdom that is not only just but also free. It is a battle worth fighting, a dream worth pursuing." At that very moment, a subtle rustling emanated from the shadows, and the commanding voice of Sarah interjected, demanding the attention of all. "Indeed, <<print $player_name>>," she asserted, her words ringing with authority. "For the weight of the crown does not rest upon a solitary throne but upon the collective effort of the people. It is incumbent upon us, as a united force, to bear this dream, nurture it, and bring it to fruition." Clara's fingers released their hold on your shoulder, and she turned her attention to Sarah, a glimmer of happiness dancing in her eyes. "Sarah," she spoke with a hint of admiration, "I'm truly honored to finally meet the top Eye of my mother's department." Her nod was a gesture of deep respect, acknowledging Sarah's significance in the realm of their responsibilities. Sarah gracefully drops down to one knee, her eyes locked with Clara's. "The honor is mine, your princess," she says, her voice filled with reverence. "But I must speak to you in private, for a matter that only your ears should hear." Sarah tilts her head upwards, her gaze never leaving Clara's face. Clara's gaze shifted to you, a hint of hesitation in her expression. "Forgive me, <<print $player_name>>!" she said with sincerity, "but I must attend to this matter, and I'm in your debt for talking to me." Her gratitude was palpable, a genuine appreciation for your presence and understanding. You bowed your head in acknowledgment, feeling a sense of fulfillment in having been able to assist her in her time of need. "No need for apologies, Clara. I'm always here to lend a hand if you require it," you assured her, turning on your heel and making your way towards the room's exit. [[Next|Clara And Sarah Day Out]]

The silence in the air was thick, almost suffocating, as you carefully considered your response. Time seemed to stand still as you weighed your words, the weight of uncertainty clinging to your voice. Finally, you spoke, your tone carrying a hint of trepidation, "Tell me about your shiny badge," you pointed to the gleaming gold emblem adorning his chest, catching the sunlight and casting a radiant glow. Elrick raised an eyebrow, his gaze flickering to where you were pointing. "My badge?" he repeated, curiosity lacing his words. "Well, I suppose it's no secret that I earned this badge as a member of the king's elite. As you already know, I am Elrick, The Watchful Eagle. It took years of rigorous training, unwavering dedication, and relentless study to attain this position." Your skepticism seeped through your words as you questioned, "Just like that?" Smirking, Elrick took a swig from his flask, a playful glint in his eye. "Well, what if I told you that when I was merely six years old, my mentor took me on a hunting expedition? It was on that day that I single-handedly brought down a mighty deer with my bow. But that's not all," he chuckled, relishing in the intrigue. "My mentor then made me deliver the final blow, plunging the killing blow into the quarry's stomach. From that moment on, my path was set, and the rest, as they say, is history!" Your jaw dropped in awe, the scene playing out in your mind's eye. Elrick's words painted a vivid picture of a young prodigy, destined for greatness. Yet, a lingering doubt tugged at your senses, cautioning you against accepting his tale at face value. He seemed too perfect, too untouchable, and this conversation, though engaging, did not warrant immediate confirmation. As your gaze wandered, it caught sight of a figure below, moving with an air of confidence. Her head held high, her hair a cascade of snow-white, and her eyes darting with a mix of distrust and paranoia. Dual swords were sheathed at her side, gleaming with a deadly aura. "Wait a minute," you exclaimed, your voice laced with intrigue. "Who is that woman down there?" Elrick shook his head, a wry grin playing on his lips. "Ah, you mean the woman with the short, pixie-cut white hair and the two swords," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of admiration. "That, my friend, is Luna, The Vicious Wolf. She is known far and wide for her ruthlessness and deadly prowess in battle. Her swords, honed to a razor-sharp edge, are ready to slice through flesh like butter."

''//(Clara's POV)//'' As <<print $player_name>> exited the room and closed the door behind them, you refocused your attention on Sarah, curiosity and suspicion playing in your thoughts like a clandestine melody. "So, what is it that you wish to discuss?" you inquired, a mixture of suspicion and intrigue coloring your words. With a single word, Sarah captured your full attention: "Escape." "Escape?" you repeated, a note of uncertainty lingering in your voice. "Yes, Princess Clara," Sarah affirmed, her tone carrying a weight of urgency that put you on edge. She leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper, and her auburn eyes shimmered with a subtle, palpable fear. "I understand that you're a person of good intentions, Your Majesty," she began, her words measured and deliberate. "But I overheard your desire for freedom earlier, and I believe this plan could offer you a much-needed respite—a chance to take a delightful stroll through the market or plaza to uplift your spirits. However, it must remain a secret, known only to us." A surge of excitement welled up within you. "An escape plan, Sarah? Do you truly believe it's a viable option?" you asked, feeling a glimmer of hope ignite within your heart. In response, Sarah reached for your hand and led you out of the library and into a concealed corridor. The passage was dim and oppressive, with thick cobwebs and a musty atmosphere that clung to your senses. The further you ventured into the narrow passageway, the more the dim light of the entrance receded behind you. A shiver coursed through your body, partly from the cold, dungeon-like ambiance and partly from the exhilaration of what lay ahead. Ahead of you, a rusty metal door concealed behind a curtain of dusty cobwebs came into view. Sarah turned to you, her eyes ablaze with determination. "This is our escape," she whispered, her voice laden with the thrill of a promise. "And a chance for you to enjoy a day of leisure," she added with a hint of mischief. "I'll remain by your side to ensure your safety, though you may not even notice my presence if you wish to explore on your own." The simplicity of the escape plan held an undeniable allure, and your heart quickened with anticipation. Through the tunnel and up the ladder, you and Sarah moved with precision, the yearning for freedom propelling you forward. Climbing to the surface, you shed the weight of responsibility, feeling a newfound lightness that filled you with exhilaration. Emerging at the top of the ladder onto the dusty city streets, you inhaled deeply, catching the faint scent of cinnamon and smoke. It transported you back to a time when you were free to wander without constraints. Sarah's eyes mirrored your own sense of joy and wonder. "Isn't the taste of freedom exhilarating, Your Highness?" she asked, her voice tinged with awe and disbelief. "It truly is," you agreed, your pulse quickening with adrenaline. With each step, you felt the burdens of your royal duties fall away, replaced by a sense of liberation that made you giddy. Hair flowing behind you like a banner of liberation and triumph. As you weaved through the bustling crowds, laughter bubbled up from deep within you. The sound echoed off the surrounding buildings, reflecting your joy and releasing the chains of responsibility that had burdened you for far too long. The streets came alive, a vibrant tapestry of colors and sounds that delighted your senses. The aromas wafting through the air, the chatter of the people, and the sights unfolding before your eyes painted a vivid picture of freedom and adventure. The euphoria of the moment enveloped you, and you were fully immersed in the intoxicating allure of boundless possibilities. It was as if you had tasted the infinite, and it beckoned you forward with irresistible allure. While you reveled in the sensory symphony of sights and sounds, Sarah walked alongside you, her vigilant eyes darting in every direction, scanning for potential threats. Her unwavering demeanor served as a reminder that danger might lurk nearby, but you couldn't bring yourself to worry, not when your heart soared with elation. Continuing your journey, you stumbled upon a quaint shop adorned with an eclectic collection of trinkets and curiosities. Amidst your excitement, your gaze was irresistibly drawn to a particular display—a necklace adorned with a dazzling array of rubies and diamonds. The jewels sparkled with a brilliance that mirrored the majesty of the sun itself. After a moment of hesitation, you pressed your fingertips to the glass, tracing the intricate patterns etched into the beads. It felt as though the necklace itself whispered to your soul, igniting a deep desire and dreams within you. "That's quite the exquisite piece, Your Highness," Sarah remarked, her auburn eyes reflecting the shimmering allure of the jewels. "There's something about it that draws you in." Your surprise and confusion were evident. "How did you know I was considering acquiring it?" Sarah responded with a sly smile. "Let's just say I have a knack for understanding people," she replied, tilting her head mischievously. "Speaking of which, how do you plan to make it yours?" A sigh escaped your lips, tinged with regret. "I lack the necessary funds to purchase it, Sarah," you admitted, a sense of longing in your voice. Before you could voice further protest, Sarah retrieved a small pouch from her cloak, a weak but conspiratorial smile gracing her lips. "Perhaps this will help," she offered, handing it to you. Your eyes widened in disbelief. "But, Sarah," you protested, "this is far too generous of you! You needn't spend your hard-earned money on a frivolous trinket." To your surprise, Sarah shook her head. "You need not worry, Your Highness," she reassured you. "Consider this necklace a gift from me, with more to come in the future as a token of gratitude for your mother entrusting me with a duty that should have been entrusted to others." Overwhelmed by her generosity and support, you lunged forward and enveloped Sarah in a heartfelt embrace. "You are truly an invaluable friend, Sarah. Thank you." As you released her, you placed your hand over the pouch, your gratitude and astonishment evident. "I cannot express my thanks enough, Sarah. This gift means the world to me, and I shall cherish it for years to come." With a nod, Sarah gestured toward the shop's entrance, encouraging you to proceed. "Please, Your Majesty, lead the way. I would love to witness you claim the necklace that speaks to your soul." Approaching the door, your hand trembled with anticipation as you drew closer to the storefront window. Your gaze remained fixed on the necklace, marveling at its intricate craftsmanship and the sense of pride it evoked within you. Behind you, the shopkeeper stepped forward, his eyes locked on the necklace. "Well, my dear," he declared, his voice resonating, "it seems that this piece has captured your attention, hasn't it? Might I interest you in something else?" Pausing, you contemplated your response, your determination unwavering. "No, Sir, I have my heart set on this particular piece," you countered, pointing at the necklace. "What would be the price for it?" The shopkeeper tilted his head, his gaze appraising and calculating. Then, he spoke with an unexpected twist of generosity, one that left you stunned: "For the Princess of Tiara, I shall bestow it upon you as a gift, along with any selection your friend may desire, as a token of gratitude for gracing my humble establishment." Baffled by his magnanimity, your heart swelled with wonder. In an instant, the barrier between you and the shopkeeper dissolved, replaced by a warm and welcoming demeanor. "Thank you, Sir," you replied, extending your hand. "I will treasure this necklace and the memories it carries for as long as I live." As the necklace adorned your neck, a surge of exhilaration coursed through you. "Please, address me by my name," you added with humility, your gratitude evident. "I am honored to be welcomed by someone as benevolent as yourself." Sarah's demeanor remained inscrutable, her auburn eyes hiding a tempest of emotions beneath her composed facade. "Well, my Lady," she remarked warmly, her tone filled with genuine admiration, "you certainly know how to negotiate. That merchant didn't stand a chance against your charm." You glanced at Sarah, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "In all honesty, Sarah," you began, cupping the necklace, "this gift is entirely thanks to your generosity. Without you, I could never have acquired such a cherished keepsake." Sarah remained stoic, her voice meek. "Anytime, Your Majesty. I would do anything for someone as beloved as you." Silence lingered, and you searched for the right words to comfort her in the midst of a lingering unease. "It's just..." Sarah began, her voice trailing off, as though the words were elusive. Her breath hitched, and tears welled up in her auburn eyes. Suddenly, her entire demeanor shifted. She adopted a stern expression, her eyes hardening, and her posture becoming rigid. "I'm fine, Your Majesty. We should continue, though. It's not safe for you to be exposed like this." You nodded, though a trace of doubt gnawed at your conscience. "If you say so, Sarah." The market district continued to bustle with activity, and your senses were overwhelmed by the symphony of sights and sounds that surrounded you. Beneath Sarah's composed exterior, you sensed a maelstrom of emotions churning, hidden behind the shield of her stoic demeanor. An intangible unease gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, like a flickering flame in the encroaching darkness. The bustling market had quieted down, and you trailed a few steps behind Sarah, watching as she surveyed the surroundings, her auburn eyes darting from point to point. Finally, unable to ignore the palpable tension any longer, you blurted out, "Sarah, something is clearly troubling you. What's wrong?" Sarah remained silent, her gaze avoiding yours, a habit you'd picked up on whenever she evaded the truth. "It's nothing, Your Highness," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "We should keep moving before we draw unnecessary attention." You shook your head, unable to suppress your mounting suspicions. "You're hiding something, Sarah," you persisted, a hint of frustration tainting your tone. "Something that appears to weigh heavily on your soul." Agony flashed in Sarah's auburn eyes, and she clenched her fists. "Get a hint and stop prying, would you?" she hissed, her voice suddenly devoid of compassion, only to quickly realize she was addressing royalty. "Forgive me, Your Majesty." In response, you heaved a frustrated sigh. "No need for apologies, Sarah," you retorted, disbelief tingeing your voice. "But I require an honest answer. What is this matter you're keeping from me?" As though in response to your unyielding insistence, Sarah's demeanor shifted, her expression turning into a blank mask that betrayed nothing. "There's nothing to discuss," she replied, her voice colder than you'd ever heard it. "I suggest you forget about it and concentrate on the journey ahead. This is your time to relax, not mine to burden." Your patience was wearing thin. "Your words are falling on deaf ears, Sarah," you insisted, determined to uncover the truth. "You're harboring something, and it deeply concerns me." A tense silence stretched between you, the air heavy with unspoken tension. Then, without warning, something changed in Sarah, and her voice softened, a glimmer of nostalgia flickering in her eyes. "What I wish to keep hidden is not an easy tale to tell," she began, her voice almost pleading, "because it carries a pain that runs deep within me." Leaning in closer, you listened intently, your concern gradually eclipsing your curiosity. "Can you at least offer me some explanation, Sarah?" you gently prodded, sensing her barriers beginning to crumble. As though awakened from a trance, Sarah's expression shifted, her gaze distant and haunted. A lingering specter of grief clouded her face, and she inhaled a shuddering breath. "The secret I guard, Your Highness, is the secret of my past," she revealed, her words laden with an anguish that cut to the bone. "It's a secret I've carried for years, one I cannot in good conscience share with another." Her voice wavered with uncertainty, as though the full weight of her disclosure was only now dawning on her. "You must understand, Your Majesty," she continued, her voice quivering with emotion, "there are things in this world that cannot be undone, no matter how fervently we wish otherwise. There are forces beyond our control, threatening to consume us whole." You couldn't bear to listen any longer, your heart aching with empathy. You reached out, gently taking Sarah's hand in a gesture of reassurance. "Sarah," you began, awe coloring your voice, "you are an extraordinarily courageous woman. You have borne so much, and it pains me to see you suffer." A tear welled up in Sarah's eye, her stoicism finally giving way to vulnerability. "Thank you, Your Majesty," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. "It means more than you can know." [[Next|Lee Meet Rick]]

''//(AN: Called it! Hope you enjoy!)//'' Lucian's intense gaze remains fixed on you, and you can feel the weight of his scrutiny, as if he's holding his breath, waiting for your response. Leaning in closer, you put a hand under your chin, studying his features with deep interest. "Interesting," you muse aloud, your eyes tracing the scratches and faint traces of bruises on his skin. They speak of battles fought, not just with others but within himself. "Oh, those?" Lucian dismisses your concern with a casual wave of his hand. "Don't worry about it, <<print $player_name>>. These are nothing compared to the pain of losing my godly status." With a note of pride, you retort, "I'm sure you're strong and brave enough to handle anything." His eyes lock with yours, and in that moment, a glimpse of the old Lucian, the one you've missed, shines through the layers of pain and suffering. His guard momentarily lowered, he admits, "That means a lot, <<print $player_name>>. You have no idea how much your friendship means to me." Your heart aches at the thought of what he's going through, and a surge of protectiveness surges through your veins. Your hand rests on his shoulder, a tangible connection between you two. "Let me help you, Lucian. Let me be there for you." His eyes darken, a storm of emotions swirling within. "It's not that simple, <<print $player_name>>. I don't even know who I am anymore. How can I expect you to understand?" "Then make me understand, Lucian!" you implore, your voice carrying the weight of your emotions. "Let me in. Let me be there for you. Stop shutting me out." "You're the only one who seems to care," he confesses, his gaze now fixed on the ground. "And the rest of them are idiots," you quip, a touch of humor creeping into your voice. His eyes meet yours again, and a spark of warmth ignites between you two. For a brief moment, you forget the darkness, the pain, the fear, and revel in the bond that has grown between you. However, the mood quickly shifts as Lucian takes a deep breath, his expression growing more serious. "But that's not the only thing that's been bothering me," he admits, his voice heavy with uncertainty. He turns his back to you, moving towards a rack of bows and arrows on display. As he stands in position at the firing range, he withdraws an arrow from his quiver and notches it onto his bow. "I'm worthless!" he begins, his voice laden with self-doubt. He releases the string, and the arrow flies true, landing on the bullseye with a resounding twack. Curiosity piqued, you follow him. "What else is on your mind?" "I'm worthless," he says bitterly, his hands deftly selecting an arrow and nocking it on his bow. "Lucas The Protector, Clara The Princess, Variel The Dragoness, and you, <<print $player_name>>, The Chosen One. Me, on the other hand... No one gives a thought about me." His words pierce through you like an arrow hitting its mark. You can feel the weight of his self-doubt, his sense of inadequacy, and it pains you deeply. "Lucian, that's not true," you protest, your voice determined. "We care about you. We need you. You're an important part of our team." He shakes his head, his bitterness unchecked. "It's different. They all have their roles, their titles, their abilities. I'm just an afterthought, a fill-in when no one else is available." "Fill-in?" he scoffs, his tone laced with self-deprecation. "More like a liability or a parasite." As he releases another arrow, frustration surges within you. "How can you say that about yourself, Lucian? You're so much more than that. You're brave, and strong, and kind, and caring, and loyal, and..." "Stop it, <<print $player_name>>," he interrupts, his voice laced with pain. "Stop trying to make me feel better. I know the truth." "Well, the truth is different for me," you declare, your determination unwavering. "And I'm not going to let you give up on yourself." He sighs, a sense of defeat creeping in. "Look, you're making this harder than it needs to be. I'm not going anywhere. Just accept that, okay?" You lean closer, your gaze locking with his. "But I don't want to lose you, Lucian. I can't." "I'm sorry, <<print $player_name>> for making you worry, but you're not losing me. I just need to prove myself to the others," he says, turning his back on you and moving toward the firing range, his steps deliberate and heavy with purpose. You take his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin and the calluses from countless hours of training. "Don't be sorry," you whisper, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. "We're going to get through this. Together." "I can't ask you to do that, <<print $player_name>>," he responds, his voice tinged with pain. "I have to figure this out on my own, and besides, you have your own role to play, and I don't want to be a burden." "Lucian, you're not a burden," you assert, a surge of determination coursing through you. "You're my friend, and I'm not going to let anything happen to you." He gazes at you, his eyes searching yours as if seeking some form of absolution. "Don't give up on me," you plead, your voice cracking with emotion. "I can't lose you. Not like this." "I'm not giving up, <<print $player_name>>. I'm just being realistic," he says, his tone weary and resigned. "I have to prove my worth, and I can't do that by relying on the others. I need to figure this out on my own." "And I'm here to help you," you reply, determination surging within you. His gaze lingers on you, his expression inscrutable. "I appreciate that, but I can't drag you into this." You shake your head, frustration boiling within you. "Stop pushing me away, Lucian. I'm not going anywhere." A wry smile graces his lips, a touch of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Well, it's good to know that I have a champion," he says, his tone light and teasing. You roll your eyes, a small smile forming on your lips. "It's not like that. I just want to help you." He continues to study you, his eyes probing and deep. "I can't let anyone know what I'm going through." "Why not?" you demand, your voice filled with frustration and empathy. He shrugs, a sense of hopelessness settling upon him. "Because if people knew what I was really going through, they would laugh at me. They would think I'm weak and pathetic, a shell of my former self. And being associated with me will not do wonders for your reputation." "That's not true," you insist, your voice unwavering. "Your friends wouldn't think any less of you for struggling with your loss." He shakes his head, his sense of despair unyielding. "You don't understand, <<print $player_name>>. I can't let anyone see how broken I am. If people knew the truth, they would look at me differently. They would pity me, and that's not something I can bear." You can't help but admire the determination, the resilience, that seems to emanate from every pore of his being. "Plus, I think Variel would think otherwise," he adds, chuckling bitterly. Intrigued, you ask, "Why do you say that?" "She's a dragon, <<print $player_name>>. She's lived for hundreds of years. She's seen so many people come and go, and she's probably heard the stories of countless battles and heroes. To her, I'm just a passing blip in her long, immortal life. A footnote in the grand scheme of things." He sighs, a sense of resignation enveloping him. As you confront Lucian, a surge of anger wells up within you. "But she still cares about you, Lucian. I can tell," you reply with conviction, your anger at his self-deprecating thoughts palpable. "She doesn't care if you're a god or not. She values your friendship, your loyalty, your honesty. She respects you, and she sees your worth." Lucian's shoulders slump, fatigue evident in his every movement. "Maybe, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm still the weakest link. I'm the one who has to rely on the others to save me, the one who always falls behind, the one who constantly needs protection. She may care about me, but she also sees my limitations. And I'm pretty sure that you're just saying that to make me feel better." Your determination doesn't waver as you respond, "I mean every word, Lucian. You're not weak, and you're certainly not a burden. You're an integral part of our team, and we need you just as much as you need us." Lucian gazes at you, his expression a mix of uncertainty and gratitude. "Thank you, <<print $player_name>>. Your words mean a lot to me." Despite your reassurances, he requests, "Look, <<print $player_name>>, I really appreciate you coming here personally, but I wish to be alone for now. Let me do my own thing." You respect his request, realizing that sometimes solitude is necessary for self-discovery. "Of course, Lucian. Take all the time you need. We'll be here when you're ready to return." With resolve in his eyes, he declares, "You have my word that when everything is said and done, I will come back stronger than before. I'll be someone who is worthy of your trust and loyalty." A genuine smile graces your lips as you respond, "That sounds like a plan, and I can't wait to see how you'll emerge, Lucian." As you watch him walk away, his figure receding into the distance, a sense of admiration and awe washes over you. Despite the losses and the hardships he's endured, he remains steadfast, determined, and committed to his self-improvement journey. His resilience is truly a sight to behold, and you can't help but feel inspired by his unwavering spirit. With a newfound sense of purpose and determination, you set off, ready to face whatever challenges may arise, and leave him to his own devices, knowing that he's on a path of self-discovery and growth that will ultimately lead him back to his true self. [[Next|Lucian Montage]]

''//(Lucian's POV)//'' As the sound of <<print $player_name>>'s fading footsteps echoes in the distance, you continue to train with a fierce determination burning in your soul. Each movement is a declaration, a promise to yourself that you will rise above, that you refuse to be the weakest link any longer. The sweat pours down your brow, mixing with the dirt and grime on your skin. Your muscles strain and ache, but you welcome the pain. It's a reminder that you're alive, that you're fighting to be better, to be more than just a footnote in the grand scheme of things. You must be the best, you tell yourself. You can’t stand being the last one on the food chain, the one who everyone looks down on. You will show them. Show them all. You’re no weakling. Being the underdog has its fun, but it’s time to go out. Grabbing a sword from the racks, you swing swung it with fierce precision, slicing through the air. You feel the sweat dripping from your forehead, the blood pumping in your veins, the fire burning in your chest. You imagine your enemies in front of you, mocking you, taunting you, challenging you. You grin, a wild gleam in your eyes. You’re ready for them. You’re ready for anything. You dropped your sword to the ground settling next to using your hands and feets, with a fire burning deep within, you continue to train relentlessly. Each punch and kick is infused with raw determination. The sweat drips down your face, mingling with the salty taste of your ambition. Your muscles ache, but you push through the pain, refusing to surrender. Every breath you take is a reminder of your unwavering commitment to be the best. The sound of your fist connecting with the punching bag reverberates throughout the training room, a thunderous clap echoing off the walls. You stand there, adrenaline coursing through your veins, every nerve electrified. The pain, raw and intense, surges through your body like a wildfire, but you welcome it with open arms. It is a testament to your dedication, a badge of honor that marks you as a warrior. With a fierce determination, you throw yourself into the training session, refusing to yield to the exhaustion that threatens to consume you. Your punches slice through the air, sharp and precise, the sheer power behind them enough to make the very room tremble. Each kick is a testament to your agility, your body moving with a grace that defies logic. You are an unstoppable force, a warrior to be feared. The room is filled with the scent of sweat mingled with the earthy aroma of dirt, a heady combination that invigorates your senses. The metallic tang of blood lingers in your mouth, a reminder of the sacrifices you make in pursuit of greatness. You grit your teeth, refusing to let the pain deter you. It is a symphony of agony, but you orchestrate it with a single-minded determination. As you push through the exhaustion, the world around you fades into insignificance, replaced by a singular focus. The training room becomes your battlefield, and you are the sole combatant. With every strike, every movement, you prove yourself, rising above the rest. The fire within you burns bright, a relentless inferno that refuses to be extinguished. "Fuck this shit!" you growl, your voice dripping with defiance. The words fuel your intensity, igniting a rage deep within your soul. You unleash a torrent of blows upon the punching bag, each strike fueled by an untamed anger that threatens to consume you. The thuds of your fists connecting with the leather become a symphony of violence, a testament to your unyielding spirit. Still not satisfied, you decide to test your acrobatics, your movements becoming a mesmerizing display of athleticism. With each leap and flip, the sweat pours off your brow, your muscles aching with exertion. But you refuse to yield, pushing yourself to the limits of your physical abilities. With a final burst of energy, you flip yourself upside down, suspended in mid-air, your feet dangling freely. In that moment of stillness, the silence envelops you, the only sound being the faint rustling of leaves outside. As you hang there, suspended in the air, a sense of clarity washes over you. You are no longer the weakling you once were. You have transformed into a warrior, a champion, a fighter who cannot be defeated. With a grunt and a final burst of strength, you release the pole, landing on the ground with a resounding thud. The impact reverberates through your bones, pain shooting up your legs. But you welcome it, embracing the ache as a reminder of how far you've come, how much you're willing to endure. As you gaze up at the sky above, a sense of hope rises within you. No matter what challenges lie ahead, you know you will rise above them. The world may try to push you down, but you will not be defeated and you will face whatever comes your way with unwavering determination. You sit there, breathing heavily, a sense of peace descending upon you. You have found yourself amidst the chaos, risen from the ashes of your former self. With renewed purpose and a fire burning within, you are ready to face the world. The training room, with its equipment, punching bags, and racks of weapons, fills you with pride. You are no longer a weakling. You are a force to be reckoned with, a combatant who knows no fear. As you grasp your discarded shirt from the bench, you pull it over your sweat-slicked skin, using it as a makeshift cover. With every step you take away from the training room, a powerful sense of determination and satisfaction wraps around you like a comforting shroud. The world stretches out before you, waiting to be conquered, and you stand ready to face whatever challenges it may throw your way. Making your way towards the exit, a surge of satisfaction washes over you. It's a feeling that emanates from deep within, a well-earned sense of accomplishment. The world stretches out before you, brimming with possibilities, and you are emboldened by the prospect of conquering it all. Each step you take reinforces your strength, bolstering your confidence, transforming you into a warrior poised for the battles that await. Approaching the door, you suddenly halt, your gaze fixated on the punching bag that had been your sparring partner. Your hands, battered and bruised, instinctively clench into fists, a silent testament to the dedication and perseverance you've poured into your training. A smile tugs at the corners of your lips, an expression of triumph amidst the pain. These wounds serve as a constant reminder of how far you've come, the obstacles you've overcome. With a quick nod, you tear your eyes away from the bag, knowing that it will always be there, ready to test your mettle. Stepping out into the daylight, you find yourself drawn to the sky above. The clouds hang heavy, their gray hue casting a somber ambiance. Yet, amidst the gloom, a sliver of blue peeks through, a beacon of hope. A refreshing breeze sweeps through the air, carrying with it the invigorating scent of nature. Deep breaths fill your lungs, and you feel a profound gratitude for this moment, this victory, this triumph over adversity. Your smile is one of defiance, pride, and unwavering conviction. This journey has only just begun, and you carry within you the indomitable spirit of a warrior. As you step forward with measured confidence, the future unfurls like an uncharted landscape before you. "Never give up," you reaffirm to yourself, your voice filled with a swelling determination. "Never." Continuing your purposeful stride, you leave the world behind, enveloped in a sense of clarity, strength, and hope. Deep down, you know that you possess the capacity to rise above, to conquer, and to overcome any challenge. Then, a voice—familiar and feminine—whispers in your ear, a ghostly remnant from the past. "Lucian, my dear sweet brother," the voice murmurs, its caress seemingly seeping into your very soul. You shake your head vigorously, determined to banish the haunting memory. "Not today," you mutter resolutely. "Not ever." The voice recedes into the recesses of your mind, a distant echo, a faded scar. You refuse to allow it to consume you. Instead, you march forward, each step resonating with unyielding determination, your heart aflame with a conviction that cannot be undone. [[Next|Lee Meet Rick]]

''//(Lee's POV)//'' You wander aimlessly through the dimly lit castle corridors, your mind a tumultuous storm of thoughts that show no mercy, no sign of abating. You are a disheveled mess, the sweat clinging to your clothes, your appearance unkempt and uncaring. The only thing that occupies your thoughts, that consumes you entirely, is Garret. It's all about him, and it's always been about him. Lucas? He's a grown man now, his presence distant and his ears deaf to your words. He's consumed by his own quest for vengeance, leaving no room for your guidance or counsel. The once unbreakable bond between you two has frayed, weakened by the weight of his own vendetta. Your steps echo in the quiet corridor, the hollow sound a stark contrast to the tumult within your mind. Garret's face, his voice, his very essence haunts your every waking moment. You can still remember the warmth of his smile, the tenderness of his touch. But now, those memories are tainted by the chasm that separates you. You pause, your hand coming to rest against the cold stone wall, the rough texture a stark reminder of the harsh reality you now face. The scent of age and history permeates the air, mingling with the faint aroma of burning candles. It's a place steeped in tradition and duty, but it offers no solace for your tortured soul. The weight of your longing bears down on you, threatening to crush your spirit. You've sacrificed so much, dedicated your life to a cause that seems to have consumed everything you hold dear. Garret's absence gnaws at your heart, a constant ache that refuses to fade. In the depths of your despair, you can't help but wonder if it's all been worth it. The battles fought, the sacrifices made, the bloodshed witnessed—all in the name of a cause that has torn you apart from the one person who truly matters to you. It's a cruel twist of fate, a bitter irony that you can't escape. With a heavy sigh, you continue your aimless journey through the castle's labyrinthine corridors. Each step takes you closer to Garret's room, but further from the life you once knew. But you can't turn back now; you're bound by duty, by honor, by the relentless pursuit of a goal that may never be realized. As you walk, you can't help but replay the memories of your time together, the moments of laughter, of shared dreams, of whispered promises. They are the fuel that keeps your determination burning, the spark of hope that refuses to be extinguished. You murmur his name, a desperate plea to the empty halls, as if summoning him back to your side. But you know it's futile. He's in his bed sleeping. But he's not here with you. The weight of his absence bears down on you, and you find yourself seeking solace against a cold, stone pillar. You close your eyes, hoping for a momentary respite from the harsh reality that surrounds you. The hallway stretches out before you, dimly lit, casting eerie shadows that dance along the walls. It's as if the very air holds secrets, whispers of hidden agendas. The past lingers in the shadows, just beyond your grasp. In your mind's eye, you can see him standing there, dressed in the regal attire of a knight, his eyes sparkling with mischief. The memory of his touch sends electric currents coursing through your veins, and the sound of his laughter brightens your world. But now, all that remains are memories, fragments of a time that can never be reclaimed. The choices that led you down this path cannot be undone, and the regret weighs heavily on your heart. Footsteps echo in the distance, growing louder with each passing moment. The sound reverberates off the stone walls, creating a haunting melody that sends shivers down your spine. The world seems to hold its breath, watching your every move, as if anticipating the unfolding of a grand tragedy. As the footsteps draw nearer, you press yourself against the wall, your breath catching in your throat. Fear and curiosity intertwine, leaving you on edge. Who approaches? And what could their purpose be? The figure emerges from the shadows, and as they step into the light, you realize it's not a stranger at all. It's Rick, still wearing his favored cloak, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "Rick!" you exclaim, your voice tinged with apprehension. "What are you doing here?" you inquire, your eyes narrowing in suspicion. Rick chuckles, stepping back a safe distance. "Lee, my friend, I came by to see how you're doing!" he greets, his voice echoing through the corridor. You can't help but feel a mixture of relief and annoyance. "My friend, what the hell! You scared the crap out of me!" you exclaim, throwing your hands up in exasperation. "Sorry for scaring you, Lee. I just wanted to check up on you, that's all!" Rick chuckles, his voice resonating in the dimly lit hallway. You level a steely gaze at him, shaking your head in disbelief. "You and your games, Rick. I don't know what to do with you," you say, your voice weary. As if remembering something, you take a moment to survey your surroundings. "He's a guest!" you mutter to the shadows around you. Rick chuckles playfully. "Just a guest? Not a friend or acquaintance?" he inquires, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. "Don't push your luck!" you deadpan, then motion for him to follow you. "Come, let's talk in Garret's room. We'll have some privacy there," you say, beginning to move towards your destination. "Sure!" Rick says, trailing behind you. "Also, who were you talking to just now?" he asks warily, his eyes scanning the hallway. "That doesn't matter! Just keep up!" you snap, increasing your pace. Moments later, you enter Garret's room, shutting the door behind you and locking it for added security. You motion for Rick to take a seat by the window, where the pale moonlight casts long shadows across the floor. You lean against the wall, observing Rick carefully. "So, what brings you here, Rick?" you ask, your voice laced with suspicion. Rick fidgets uncomfortably in his chair, his eyes darting nervously around the room. "Well, I wanted to check on you, to see how you're coping," he replies evasively. Something doesn't add up, and you can't ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach. "There's more to it, Rick," you say, your voice firm. "Why are you so concerned about me?" The tension in the room thickens, and the silence hangs heavy between you. The air crackles with unspoken words, and you wait for Rick to reveal the truth, to shed light on his true intentions. But until then, you remain on guard, ready to face whatever secrets and revelations lie ahead. Lee stared at Rick, his eyes filled with disbelief. The room was tense, the air heavy with the weight of their past grievances. Rick's determined gaze met Lee's, a flicker of hope shining through his tired eyes. "Look, Lee, the truth is I wanted to offer you a truce," Rick began, his voice steady but tinged with exhaustion. "I know we have our vendetta against each other because of our past, and I know without a doubt that you wanted to gut and skin me alive, but-" Rick paused, as if each word was a burden on his soul. Lee's anger simmered beneath the surface, his body tense with a mix of emotions. "A truce? After everything we've been through?" he questioned skeptically, his voice laced with bitterness. Rick's expression softened, his voice pleading. "I want a fresh start between us, a new slate. Lily has been talking to me, and I agree with her. We can't go on like this forever. One way or another, our hate or grudge will be our deaths if left unresolved." Lee's eyes narrowed, his gaze locked with Rick's. "A new fresh start, you said? What exactly are you proposing?" he asked, his tone dripping with skepticism. Rick shook his head, a hint of indignation creeping into his voice. "No, not me. It's your feelings and opinions I want to hear," he responded cautiously. Lee's anger flared, his voice sharp. "My feelings and opinions? You mean my refusal to stop attacking you or to stop calling you out?" he retorted, his eyes flashing with anger. Rick sighed, exhaustion etched on his face. "Look, all I'm saying is we both had reasons for our actions, and haven't we suffered enough? Your mother died by my hand, and you killed my best friend!" Rick's voice wavered, the weight of their shared pain evident. Lee's grip tightened on his fists, his voice filled with stubborn determination. "What good does it do for us to hold onto the past anymore? Isn't it time to let it go?" Rick urged, his voice pleading. "Let it go? Just like that?" Lee hissed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You make it sound like a walk in the park!" Rick ran his hands through his hair, frustration evident on his face. "I'm not saying it'll be easy, but what other option do we have?" he implored, his voice tinged with desperation. "Honestly, I'd rather fight you to the death than give up my revenge," Lee admitted stubbornly, his voice laced with defiance. "Wouldn't Garret want us to move on, to put the past behind us?" Rick suggested, his voice filled with a flicker of hope. Garret. The mention of his name sent a shiver down Lee's spine. His entire body stiffened, his eyes narrowing with accusation. "How dare you bring up his name?" Lee accused heatedly, his voice filled with pain. "All I'm saying is maybe he's watching over us, pushing us to make amends," Rick cautioned, his voice laced with uncertainty. Lee scoffed at the suggestion, crossing his arms defiantly. "You know, if you're trying to persuade me, you're doing a pretty shitty job," he scoffed, his voice filled with bitterness. Rick rubbed his hands across his face, weariness evident in his every movement. "You think I don't know that? Look, I'm not good at this kind of thing. All I'm best at is killing and delivering justice to the heathens, and talking about all of this makes me sick," he confessed, his voice raw with honesty. "Unless you're being honest," Lee replied sardonically, his voice filled with skepticism. Turning his attention away from Rick, Lee walked to the bedside of his husband, Garret, clasping his unmoving hand. The scent of antiseptic filled the room, mingling with the faint smell of sadness. Lee's heart ached as he pressed Garret's hand to his lips, tears welling in his eyes. "I love Garret with all my heart, and with him gone, I feel like I can't move on," Lee admitted, his voice trembling with emotion. Rick stared at Lee, uncertainty etched on his face, his gaze drifting to their intertwined hands. "Don't you miss him?" Rick asked softly, his voice filled with a mix of longing and sadness. Lee cleared his throat, his voice thick with emotion. "Of course I miss him. But what else can I do?" he questioned, a tear sliding down his cheek. Rick shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his voice gentle. "There's no need to cry, Lee. It'll all work out in the end," he reassured, his voice filled with empathy. Lee sniffed, wiping away the tears with the back of his hand. "Maybe you're right," he conceded, his voice filled with a mix of resignation and hope. "We can't go on fighting each other forever, can we?" Rick nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Sometimes we have to let go of the past to move forward," he said solemnly, his voice filled with conviction. Lee nodded, his grip on Garret's hand tightening. "Then we have an agreement?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of uncertainty and determination. In the dimly lit room, you meet Rick's gaze, your eyes searching his for any hint of sincerity. The tension between you is palpable, but you can't help but notice a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It's a small glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, this arrangement could work. "Does insulting and pranking count towards our peace?" Rick asks, his voice laced with a touch of mischief, trying to lighten the mood. A smile tugs at the corners of your lips, unable to resist his playful banter. "You've certainly changed, haven't you? I still remember that night when you came to my cell, threatening to struggle me to death slowly," you say, the memory of that encounter still fresh in your mind. Rick chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Hey, we're making progress here!" he counters, clearly enjoying the newfound camaraderie. "And let's not forget, you were the one who threw me into the cell and dragged me to the dungeon," you throw back, a playful glint in your eyes. Rick grumbles playfully, a mock affronted look on his face. "Hey, you'll stop using my own words against me!" he protests. "Fine, fine, we made a deal, okay?" you relent, slightly amused at his affronted expression. "Great! We're making progress! Finally!" Rick proclaims, wiping his brow in mock relief. Rick leans against the wall, looking more relaxed now. "By the way, I have a quest of my own," he confides, his gaze drifting to the window. "Oh, really?" you inquire, intrigued. "What kind of quest are we talking about here?" "There are rumors about a certain Lady Cate being involved in prostitution, slavery, child servitude, and even the sale of human organs," he explains, disgust evident in his voice. Your eyes widen in alarm. "That's... Pretty serious," you say, your voice filled with genuine concern. "Have you found anything yet?" "All I know so far is that there is a group of people she works with, a group who call themselves The Night Court," Rick explains, frustration evident in his voice as he struggles to uncover the truth. "Hmm... Well, be careful. What's the point of having a truce if you're dead?" you quip, trying to inject a touch of lightness into the conversation. He arches an eyebrow, his voice tinged with amusement. "You'll be losing a worthy adversary," he jokes, a playful smirk on his face. "Don't flatter yourself," you deadpan, unable to resist the opportunity for a playful retort. His expression turns thoughtful, and he leans against the wall, his gaze drifting out the window. "Lucas wants to kill Claire. I heard a certain bird telling me that he's planning something, something about killing his childhood friend," he murmurs. You sigh, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon you. "That doesn't surprise me. As much as I hate to admit it, Lucas is doing his own thing and he's on his own." Rick nods slowly, his gaze still fixed on the window. "Do you think we'll ever really be able to let go of the past?" he wonders aloud, his voice filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty. "Of course. We have no other choice," you reply, gripping Garret's lifeless hand tighter. "Besides, there are so many other things we could be doing with our lives." Rick nods, a pensive look in his eyes. "Sometimes it feels like we're stuck in a loop, like we're never going to move forward." Your gaze meets his, and you can sense the depth of his emotions. "We've been fighting each other for so long, it seems like we don't know how to do anything else. But isn't that what makes life interesting? And I'll be damned if I'm forced to drink tea with you on a late afternoon," you say, a mischievous grin playing on your lips. "I'd rather not have you poison me by adding something to my tea. You always have a plan up your sleeves," he comments wryly, rolling his eyes. You can't help but smirk at him. "I learned from the best." "That you did," Rick sighs, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "I don't mean to be a pest, but have you heard the news?" Intrigued by his words, you lean in closer, your eyes locked on his. "First off, you're a pest, no need to apologize for your true nature. Second, what news?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued. Rick crosses his arms and leans against the wall near the window, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension. "I heard that the Royal Assets are coming to visit the Kingdom! Their Majesties want to show the people some hope by parading these so-called elites." A knowing smile dances on your lips. "So Hendrick accepted, huh? I've heard about their reputation far and wide, and their escapades never cease to be interesting, to say the least. Each member has their own set of skills that they've mastered," you explain, a glimmer of anticipation in your eyes. Rick arches an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "What do you mean? There are more than just the four of them?" You smile wickedly, relishing in the intrigue. "Why don't you guess for yourself?" Rick scowls playfully, his eyes narrowing at you. "I hate you sometimes, Lee," he mutters, unable to hide a hint of a smile. You can't help but hide a laugh, the sound escaping through your lips. "Right! Just as much as you love me!" Rick sighs in mock exasperation, his gaze drifting back to the window. After a few moments of silence, he speaks again, his voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and longing. "I'm still trying to figure out why you agreed to this truce," he admits, his voice filled with a hint of uncertainty. You narrow your eyes at him, the weight of your past battles still fresh in your mind. "It's not a truce," you clarify, your voice tinged with determination. "It's a compromise." Rick arches an eyebrow, his gaze steady on yours. "Not exactly a compromise, since neither of us has given up on our revenge," he counters, his voice filled with a mix of curiosity and confusion. "True. But it's a start, isn't it?" you counter, your voice laced with hope. "Perhaps," Rick concedes, his gaze drifting back to the window. "Forgive me for sounding like a fool, but I was hoping we'd have a bit more time to explore our newfound truce before things got heated," he confesses, his voice filled with a mix of longing and regret. You smile ruefully, a flash of anger lighting in your eyes. "That's the thing about destiny, Rick. Sometimes it doesn't matter what we do or don't do, because fate has a way of catching up with us," you sigh, the weight of the past pressing heavily upon you. Rick clears his throat uncomfortably, his voice tinged with sympathy. "You say that like we're enemies again," he points out, his eyes filled with genuine concern. "Maybe we are. Maybe it's just our destiny to remain locked in battle until one of us is finally laid to rest," you respond bitterly, your gaze shifting to Garret's lifeless form. Rick grimaces, his face a mask of sympathy. "You don't believe that, do you? What about this whole truce we just agreed upon?" You shrug noncommittally, a mix of emotions swirling within you. Your gaze falls upon the night sky outside the window, the stars twinkling in the darkness. "Remember what we said when we were young? The fates do have a sick sense of humor, don't they?" you murmur, your voice filled with a mix of resignation and defiance. Rick nods slowly, his eyes tracking yours. "I can't deny that. Look at us now, for instance," he sighs, gesturing to your surroundings, the darkness of the room reflecting the darkness within your souls. You look at him, curiosity and anticipation filling your heart. "Our paths have crossed, collided, if you will, and now we find ourselves trudging through the darkness together, trying to find our way out," you say, your voice tinged with a mix of determination and vulnerability. You tilt your head thoughtfully, a wry smile playing on your lips. "We have come a long way, haven't we?" you muse, your voice filled with a mix of nostalgia and hope. Rick let out a dry laugh, his eyes shimmering with a mix of exhaustion and determination. "It's incredible how fast time flies when you're trying to survive," he said, his voice tinged with a touch of bitterness. I nodded in agreement, my own weariness creeping into my voice. "That's true, time seems to be flying by faster these days, and I can barely keep up." Rick ran his hands through his disheveled hair, his face etched with lines of fatigue. "Tell me about it!" he exclaimed, a jovial tone masking the weight of his words. "You and me? We're getting old for this shit!" A slight smile danced on his lips, but I could see the exhaustion that lay beneath the surface. As the conversation took a turn, a question burned in my mind. "Speaking of old, have you and Lily talked about settling down?" I asked, cautiously broaching a sensitive topic. "You know, starting a family, making kids and things like that." Rick let out a sigh, his voice tinged with regret. "No, we haven't," he confessed. "I'd like to, but you know Lily. She's focused on saving people and getting rid of injustice, which is admirable, I guess." A flicker of pain crossed his face, a silent acknowledgment of the darkness that surrounded us. "There's a lot of darkness out there. I mean, look at our circumstances." I tried to inject some hope into the conversation, searching for a glimmer of light amidst the shadows. "Well, as they say, darkness cannot exist without light," I pointed out, my voice filled with a cautious optimism. "Hopefully, we can all find the light, huh?" Rick nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "Yes, hopefully we can all find the light someday," he murmured. "For Garret's sake, if anything." A flicker of sorrow danced in his eyes, reminding me of the weight that rested on our shoulders. Fatigue began to seep into my bones, and I rubbed my temples in an attempt to ward off the weariness. "Lily is a strong person, Rick," I said, a hint of admiration in my voice. "Heck, I know that between the two of you, she's the one who's got the balls!" A guffaw escaped my lips, a brief respite from the heaviness of our reality. Rick playfully put a hand on his chest, his eyes glimmering with amusement. "Ouch, what am I, chopped liver?" he laughed ruefully. "But you're right about that one," he conceded, a hint of pride in his voice. Sighing, I met Rick's gaze, my words carrying a weighty warning. "Just promise me that you'll take care of her, Rick. For my sake and yours," I said, my voice laced with concern. "A promise that I'll keep, for sure," Rick assured me, his eyes filled with determination. We stood there for a moment, side by side, gazing out into the distance, lost in our own thoughts. Suddenly, I was jolted from my reverie by the sound of Rick clearing his throat. He turned to me, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Actually, I have a question of my own," he said, his voice brimming with playfulness. I raised an eyebrow, curious about the question that danced on the tip of his tongue. "Go on," I urged, a slight smile playing on my lips. Rick's eyes sparkled like a child who had just been handed a sack of candies. "Do you think your mom would approve of our truce?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. "If she's still alive, that is." A pang of nostalgia washed over me, memories of my mother flooding my mind. "Ah, that... Well, what do you think?" I retorted, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Of course, she would've forced us to become brothers," I muttered, a hint of sadness in my voice. "Mom was always a peacemaker. How about your best friend? Do you think he'd be okay with you hanging out with me?" Rick laughed, a deep and hearty sound that echoed through the empty streets. "Ah, yes. The memories we made," he said, a touch of sentimentality in his voice. "And as for my best friend, well, when we were teens, we would constantly get scolded and punished for pulling pranks on others. When we were older, we enjoyed ourselves a bit too much and ended up getting into quite the scraps." I couldn't help but smile at the memories that flooded my mind. "So, I can safely say that he would treat you like a brother, just like me," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. "Well, I'm glad we had this talk, Lee," Rick said, a hint of sadness in his voice as he climbed up on the window ledge. I reached out, a mix of worry and curiosity in my eyes. "Hey, where are you going?" Rick turned to me, a determined look on his face. "You see, I have my missions and quests to carry out, and Lily is waiting for me somewhere," he explained. "Rick, my word. Don't be too reckless!" I warned, concern lacing my voice. "Take care of yourself. See you then!" I greeted, a mix of farewell and worry in my words. "Lee," Rick called out, stopping me in my tracks. I turned to face him, curiosity etched on my face. "Yes, what is it?" I asked, my voice tinged with anticipation. Rick's voice held a note of apprehension and a hint of friendship. "Try to find a way, okay? A way that does not require violence," he pleaded, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and fear. I stood there, nodding, a sense of determination filling my heart. "I'll do my best, Rick," I promised, my voice steady and resolute. Rick let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. "Well, that's assuring!" he said sarcastically before jumping off the window sill and disappearing into the distance. With Rick gone, I turned my attention back to Garrett, who lay in the hospital bed, his body weakened. I approached him, sitting beside him, my heart filled with both worry and hope. "Get well soon, my love," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, as I gently took his hand in mine. To my surprise, his hand squeezed back, causing my heart to skip a beat. "Lee?" Garrett's weak and soft voice reached my ears, and I looked at him, uncertain if this was just a dream. "Garrett!" I exclaimed, my voice filled with a mix of joy and disbelief. "It's really you?" Garrett smiled, his eyes fluttering open for a moment before closing again. "Lee," he repeated my name, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "Wait, stay awake, my love!" I cried, my grip on his hand tightening. "Don't worry, Lee," Garrett reassured me, his voice barely audible. "I just have eye strain. My eyes are tired, you know, after not opening them for a long time." He turned his gaze towards the left side of the bed, his feeble arms attempting to lift, but failing. He let out a sigh, resigning himself to rest a bit longer. "Just need to rest for a moment longer," he said weakly. "It's alright, love. I understand," I comforted him, my voice calm and soothing. "Take a moment and breathe first." "I wish I could hold you," he murmured, his eyes still closed. My heart ached at his words, and I couldn't resist leaning forward and pressing my lips against his. Surprised by the sudden action, Garrett flinched away, surprising me. Panic filled my chest as I worried if something was wrong. "Something wrong?" I asked, my voice filled with concern. Garrett chuckled weakly. "Nothing, love. I was just surprised by the kiss," he answered, a gentle smile forming on his lips. "It's has been since I tasted those luscious soft skin!" he says in a sultry tone. Embarrassment washed over me, and a faint blush colored my cheeks. "Oh," I managed to say, feeling a mix of relief and self-consciousness. "Heh, come here, love," Garrett beckoned, his hand opening invitingly. Hesitantly, I laid my hand in his, letting him guide it gently near his mouth as he pressed soft kisses against my skin. I felt a weak pressure, causing a shudder to run through me. "I miss you, Lee. So much," he murmured softly, his voice filled with longing and affection. My heart fluttered at his words, tears glistening in my eyes. "Me too. I miss you very much, Garrett," I whispered, my voice filled with emotion. "I've missed you every single day." As tears streamed down my face, I heard him snoring softly, already fast asleep once more. "You son of a bitch!" I laughed happily, a mix of joy and relief washing over me. I wiped away my tears and began planting tiny, soft kisses on his face, wanting to shower him with affection. Seeing him in this vulnerable state was heart-wrenching, like a helpless kitten being strangled by a snake. The overwhelming feeling of seeing his life fade away made me want to jump out of my own skin. "Well, this is cause for a celebration!" I declared, leaving his side, though it pained me to do so. But I knew I had to be presentable to make my announcements to everyone in the Kingdom. With a sense of purpose, I shed my clothes and stepped into the bathroom, determined to make an impression. As I stood under the running water, the droplets cascading over my body the scent of the soap filled the air, mingling with the steam, as I scrubbed away the dirt and weariness of the past days. "Garett is finally awake yet our son is on the verge of destruction!" you muse worriedly. "Maybe Garett will knock some sense into him!" you say and planning a meeting between them after the visitation of the Assets. [[Next|N's Readings]]

You put a finger on your chin and begin to tap it, your curiosity piqued. "Training? What's the occasion?" you inquire, genuinely interested in this new facet of Lucian. Lucian takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly as if contemplating his response. Then, with a sly and playful grin, he says, "Who knows, maybe I'm just doing it to impress you!" He punctuates his words with a wink directed at you. As he speaks, his gaze never wavers from yours, his eyes locked in a captivating stare. You're momentarily stunned, your eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected turn in the conversation. Did the typically shy and reserved Lucian just flirt with you? It's as if a bolt of electricity shot through the air, leaving you pleasantly flustered. "Did...Did you just flirt?" you stammer, your voice betraying your astonishment. Lucian's playful smile doesn't waver, and he nods, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Maybe," he replies, his tone teasing. "Is it working?" Your cheeks flush slightly as you regain your composure, a small smile playing on your lips. Lucian's newfound confidence and charm are certainly making an impression. "Well, you caught me by surprise," you admit, deciding to play along. "But I have to say, it's quite effective." It's an intoxicating sight, and you quickly look away, embarrassed by the direction of your thoughts. He continues his training, and you can't help but admire the graceful movements he makes. Each jump, each stretch, is executed with precision and control, showcasing his skill and dedication. The sun beats down on you, and you feel a bead of sweat trickle down your forehead. It's an incredibly sensual experience, and you find yourself transfixed by his every move. Suddenly, he stops, his eyes finding yours, and a sly grin spreads across his face. It's almost overwhelming, and you struggle to regain your composure. Lucian tilts his head, his smile becoming playful, almost inviting. He strides towards you, his body a confident silhouette against the bright light. He pauses in front of you, his hand passing you by. "Pardon me, but I need to get that staff behind you!" You can see the tension in his body, the way his muscles bunch and coil with every movement. It's a testament to his physical prowess, and you feel yourself drifting closer, swept up in the intensity of the moment. Without warning, his hand reaches out, grazing your arm in a light touch that sends shockwaves through your body. His eyes lock with yours, and you find yourself entangled in a whirlpool of emotions. It's as if the world has fallen away, leaving only the two of you, lost in a moment that defies all logic. Then he pulls back and returns to his training spot, beginning to swing his staff. He's exquisite, like a living sculpture, and you find yourself drawn to him, despite your best efforts to resist. You can sense a shift in his demeanor, a newfound confidence that seems to radiate from his very core. He moves with fluidity, his body a symphony of grace and power. It's hypnotic, and you can't tear your eyes away. His eyes find yours again, and he smiles, his lips upturned in a teasing smirk. It's as if he's enjoying your reaction, relishing the power he has over you. "Speechless?" he teases. It's like looking at a Greek god, a masterpiece in motion. You clear your throat, your gaze unwavering as you address Lucian. "Momentarily," you say, gathering your composure. "But I'm here to address the elephant in the room, Lucian, and that would be your disappearance and well-being," you say, your expression turning serious. Lucian stops in his tracks and turns to address you. There's a flicker of emotion in his eyes, a brief glimpse of something beneath the surface before it's replaced by a mask of cool indifference. "<<print $player_name>>, I am fine," he says firmly. "I'm not..." You interrupt him, your voice unwavering. "Something's gotten into you, Lucian, and please don't deny it," you say gravely. "Lee had expressed his worries about you just a while ago, and even I myself can see through your well-being clearly," you explain. Lucian's facade falters for a moment, his shoulders tensing ever so slightly. He opens his mouth to respond, but you continue, your concern evident in your tone. "We're here for you, Lucian," you say softly but firmly. "You don't have to carry whatever burden you're shouldering alone. We're your friends, and we care about you." His eyes lock with yours, and in that moment, a glimpse of the old Lucian, the one you've missed, shines through the layers of pain and suffering. His guard momentarily lowered, he admits, "That means a lot, <<print $player_name>>. You have no idea how much your friendship means to me." Your heart aches at the thought of what he's going through, and a surge of protectiveness surges through your veins. Your hand rests on his shoulder, a tangible connection between you two. "Let me help you, Lucian. Let me be there for you." His eyes darken, a storm of emotions swirling within. "It's not that simple, <<print $player_name>>. I don't even know who I am anymore. How can I expect you to understand?" "Then make me understand, Lucian!" you implore, your voice carrying the weight of your emotions. "Let me in. Let me be there for you. Stop shutting me out." "You're the only one who seems to care," he confesses, his gaze now fixed on the ground. "And the rest of them are idiots," you quip, a touch of humor creeping into your voice. His eyes meet yours again, and a spark of warmth ignites between you two. For a brief moment, you forget the darkness, the pain, the fear, and revel in the bond that has grown between you. However, the mood quickly shifts as Lucian takes a deep breath, his expression growing more serious. "But that's not the only thing that's been bothering me," he admits, his voice heavy with uncertainty. He turns his back to you, moving towards a rack of bows and arrows on display. As he stands in position at the firing range, he withdraws an arrow from his quiver and notches it onto his bow. "I'm worthless!" he begins, his voice laden with self-doubt. He releases the string, and the arrow flies true, landing on the bullseye with a resounding twack. Curiosity piqued, you follow him. "What else is on your mind?" "I'm worthless," he says bitterly, his hands deftly selecting an arrow and nocking it on his bow. "Lucas The Protector, Clara The Princess, Variel The Dragoness, and you, <<print $player_name>>, The Chosen One. Me, on the other hand... No one gives a thought about me." His words pierce through you like an arrow hitting its mark. You can feel the weight of his self-doubt, his sense of inadequacy, and it pains you deeply. "Lucian, that's not true," you protest, your voice determined. "We care about you. We need you. You're an important part of our team." He shakes his head, his bitterness unchecked. "It's different. They all have their roles, their titles, their abilities. I'm just an afterthought, a fill-in when no one else is available." "Fill-in?" he scoffs, his tone laced with self-deprecation. "More like a liability or a parasite." As he releases another arrow, frustration surges within you. "How can you say that about yourself, Lucian? You're so much more than that. You're brave, and strong, and kind, and caring, and loyal, and..." "Stop it, <<print $player_name>>," he interrupts, his voice laced with pain. "Stop trying to make me feel better. I know the truth." "Well, the truth is different for me," you declare, your determination unwavering. "And I'm not going to let you give up on yourself." He sighs, a sense of defeat creeping in. "Look, you're making this harder than it needs to be. I'm not going anywhere. Just accept that, okay?" You lean closer, your gaze locking with his. "But I don't want to lose you, Lucian. I can't." "I'm sorry, <<print $player_name>> for making you worry, but you're not losing me. I just need to prove myself to the others," he says, turning his back on you and moving toward the firing range, his steps deliberate and heavy with purpose. You take his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin and the calluses from countless hours of training. "Don't be sorry," you whisper, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. "We're going to get through this. Together." "I can't ask you to do that, <<print $player_name>>," he responds, his voice tinged with pain. "I have to figure this out on my own, and besides, you have your own role to play, and I don't want to be a burden." "Lucian, you're not a burden," you assert, a surge of determination coursing through you. "You're my friend, and I'm not going to let anything happen to you." He gazes at you, his eyes searching yours as if seeking some form of absolution. "Don't give up on me," you plead, your voice cracking with emotion. "I can't lose you. Not like this." "I'm not giving up, <<print $player_name>>. I'm just being realistic," he says, his tone weary and resigned. "I have to prove my worth, and I can't do that by relying on the others. I need to figure this out on my own." "And I'm here to help you," you reply, determination surging within you. His gaze lingers on you, his expression inscrutable. "I appreciate that, but I can't drag you into this." You shake your head, frustration boiling within you. "Stop pushing me away, Lucian. I'm not going anywhere." A wry smile graces his lips, a touch of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Well, it's good to know that I have a champion," he says, his tone light and teasing. You roll your eyes, a small smile forming on your lips. "It's not like that. I just want to help you." He continues to study you, his eyes probing and deep. "I can't let anyone know what I'm going through." "Why not?" you demand, your voice filled with frustration and empathy. He shrugs, a sense of hopelessness settling upon him. "Because if people knew what I was really going through, they would laugh at me. They would think I'm weak and pathetic, a shell of my former self. And being associated with me will not do wonders for your reputation." "That's not true," you insist, your voice unwavering. "Your friends wouldn't think any less of you for struggling with your loss." He shakes his head, his sense of despair unyielding. "You don't understand, <<print $player_name>>. I can't let anyone see how broken I am. If people knew the truth, they would look at me differently. They would pity me, and that's not something I can bear." You can't help but admire the determination, the resilience, that seems to emanate from every pore of his being. "Plus, I think Variel would think otherwise," he adds, chuckling bitterly. Intrigued, you ask, "Why do you say that?" "She's a dragon, <<print $player_name>>. She's lived for hundreds of years. She's seen so many people come and go, and she's probably heard the stories of countless battles and heroes. To her, I'm just a passing blip in her long, immortal life. A footnote in the grand scheme of things." He sighs, a sense of resignation enveloping him. As you confront Lucian, a surge of anger wells up within you. "But she still cares about you, Lucian. I can tell," you reply with conviction, your anger at his self-deprecating thoughts palpable. "She doesn't care if you're a god or not. She values your friendship, your loyalty, your honesty. She respects you, and she sees your worth." Lucian's shoulders slump, fatigue evident in his every movement. "Maybe, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm still the weakest link. I'm the one who has to rely on the others to save me, the one who always falls behind, the one who constantly needs protection. She may care about me, but she also sees my limitations. And I'm pretty sure that you're just saying that to make me feel better." Your determination doesn't waver as you respond, "I mean every word, Lucian. You're not weak, and you're certainly not a burden. You're an integral part of our team, and we need you just as much as you need us." Lucian gazes at you, his expression a mix of uncertainty and gratitude. "Thank you, <<print $player_name>>. Your words mean a lot to me." Despite your reassurances, he requests, "Look, <<print $player_name>>, I really appreciate you coming here personally, but I wish to be alone for now. Let me do my own thing." You respect his request, realizing that sometimes solitude is necessary for self-discovery. "Of course, Lucian. Take all the time you need. We'll be here when you're ready to return." With resolve in his eyes, he declares, "You have my word that when everything is said and done, I will come back stronger than before. I'll be someone who is worthy of your trust and loyalty." A genuine smile graces your lips as you respond, "That sounds like a plan, and I can't wait to see how you'll emerge, Lucian." As you watch him walk away, his figure receding into the distance, a sense of admiration and awe washes over you. Despite the losses and the hardships he's endured, he remains steadfast, determined, and committed to his self-improvement journey. His resilience is truly a sight to behold, and you can't help but feel inspired by his unwavering spirit. With a newfound sense of purpose and determination, you set off, ready to face whatever challenges may arise, and leave him to his own devices, knowing that he's on a path of self-discovery and growth that will ultimately lead him back to his true self. [[Next|Lucian Montage]]

''//{MC's POV)//'' As you walked through the hallways of the castle, a sense of calm settled over you. You had done all you could to help, but it seemed that the best way for them to cope with their problems was to solve them on their own. With that in mind, you decided to give them the peace they needed. Just as you were lost in your thoughts, a servant nearly bumped into you, their eyes wide with urgency. "Quick, they're coming!" they exclaimed. "I can't wait to see them!" another servant gushed, their excitement contagious as they gossiped with their colleague. You paused in your tracks, taking in the sudden transformation of the once-desolate hallways. The previously empty corridors were now bustling with activity. Servants were diligently performing their duties, dusting vases, sweeping, and mopping the floors. "What's happening?" you murmured to yourself, taken aback by their renewed energy and bustling movements. "Excuse me, <<print $player_name>>!" a familiar voice called out, and you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you saw Sam, wearing a radiant smile on her face. She held a cloth in her hand and was energetically wiping a portion of the wall, making it shine. "I request that you step aside; we don't want you to get run over by us servants!" she chuckled, her focus entirely on her task. Curiosity piqued, you decided to ask her about the sudden commotion. "Is there an event happening?" you inquired. Sam didn't stop her vigorous cleaning as she responded, her voice filled with awe. "You didn't hear? The Assets are coming to visit!" she exclaimed. Her eyes, a mesmerizing shade of emerald, shimmered with a mix of awe and adoration. A soft blush caressed her cheeks, as if the very sight of them had stolen her breath away. Curiosity piqued, you blinked at her dazed expression, your mind filled with questions. "His Elites? I've never had the pleasure of meeting them," you said thoughtfully, your voice laced with intrigue. A mischievous smile played at the corners of her lips as she leaned closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "Oh, my dear, you have no idea what you're missing. The King's Elites are the epitome of charm and grace. To meet and have tea with them would be a stroke of luck." Just then, a small and timid servant scurried past, his hurried steps faltering as he struggled to maintain his balance. Without a moment's hesitation, you extended your hand, offering assistance. "Here, let me help," you insisted, your voice filled with genuine concern. "Thank you!" he replied gratefully, his voice trembling with relief. In a matter of minutes, the rest of the servants joined in, each person working in perfect harmony to complete their assigned tasks. Seeking more information about these elusive elites, you turned to Sam, your eyes filled with curiosity. "Can you give me more details about them? This is the first time I've heard of them," you asked, your words tinged with excitement. Sam paused, her hands still, as she turned to face you. A glimmer of excitement danced in her eyes as she prepared to reveal the secrets she held. "There are six of them, handpicked as the best of the best in their respective divisions. Three of them are rumored to be visiting us soon!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with anticipation and she couldn't contain her grin. "Luna, known as The Vicious Wolf, Elrick, hailed as The Watchful Eagle, and Serena, whispered to be The Cunning Fox, will grace us with their presence," Sam continued, her voice filled with reverence. A flush of excitement tinged her cheeks as she tried to rein in her emotions. "Be strong, Sam, do not scream like a giddy schoolgirl! They are Elites, not gods." Slightly taken aback by Sam's enthusiasm, you couldn't help but be captivated by her unwavering admiration for these individuals. But there was one question that lingered in your mind, demanding an answer. "If they are as amazing as you say, why haven't I heard of their return to the kingdom? Is there a special occasion taking place today?" you inquired, your voice filled with curiosity. Sam hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether or not to reveal the secret she held. Finally, she spoke, her voice laced with a sense of urgency. "I don't think this is supposed to be announced yet, but... they're preparing to help us in these dark times." A wave of realization washed over you, connecting the dots and filling in the missing pieces of the puzzle. Sam's comment had answered most of your questions, leaving you with a sense of awe and gratitude. With a smile, you nodded, acknowledging her trust. Just as the tension in the air began to ease, Sam's posture relaxed, and she addressed you with a newfound authority. "<<print $player_name>>, we'll take care of things here. Go ahead and I wish you the best!" Grateful for the dismissal, you bowed respectfully and quickly made your way out of the bustling hallway. As you journeyed towards the chambers, your mind was filled with the vivid impressions you had gathered of the Elites. "I hope I can get the chance to meet them," you mused, a part of you yearning to witness firsthand the mastery and skill that the rumors had spoken of. As you neared the corridor's entrance, the grand door creaked open, and a gust of cold wind washed over your skin. The unexpected chill made you pause, and you glanced out the windows, noticing gaps among the thick iron bars. There were two small openings amidst the sturdy bars, each forming a circular gap measuring about three inches in height and five inches in width. Curiosity piqued, you leaned in closer and peered outside. The sky boasted its usual deep blue hue for this season. Taking a deep breath of the crisp air, you made a spontaneous decision. It had been far too long since you'd enjoyed a moment on the balcony. You stepped through the gaps and closed the doors behind you, immediately feeling the cold bite against your thin attire. The chill grazed your skin, a stark reminder of the wintry weather. For a moment, you reveled in the brisk breeze and the ambient sounds that surrounded you. Leaning on the rail, you looked down to witness the lively activity of people going about their business. However, it was the banners adorning the castle walls that caught your attention, each displaying the symbols of a wolf, an eagle, and a fox. Shaking your head in amazement, you realized how the presence of these Elites had transformed the kingdom's atmosphere. Their arrival seemed to infuse excitement and intrigue into your life within this virtual world. Chuckling softly to yourself, you found a seat in one of the balcony's corners and sighed in contemplation. "Who would have thought such things could happen? This life you've been given is truly beyond imagination," you murmured, a mix of amusement and awe. "Beyond your imagination? Is something the matter?" a voice inquired suddenly, causing you to whirl around. There, a figure stood wearing a mask that bore an eerie resemblance to N's porcelain mask from before. Frozen in shock, you furrowed your brows, wondering how this individual had managed to enter. Before you could question further, a guard's obnoxious cough broke the silence. The masked figure tilted his head, placing a gloved finger to his lips. "Don't worry, my friend," they said, their voice light and airy, almost as if they were speaking in riddles. "I'm merely here for inspiration, seeking the beauty of the castle balcony for my next artistic endeavor." he explained, gesturing around with a flourish. "But how did you get here in the first place?" you couldn't help but inquire, your curiosity getting the better of you. With a whimsical tone, N replied, a mischievous twinkle in their eyes, "Oh, that, my young friend, is a secret!" Their sing-song voice had an airy quality, as if carried by the wind, making it seem as though there were no ulterior motives hidden behind their cryptic words. "Although if you're that curious," they continued, "I suggest you stick around and find out for yourself." N spoke with a matter-of-fact confidence, as if it were common knowledge that they wouldn't reveal their tricks to the public. Shaking your head in disbelief, you couldn't help but feel a surge of irritation growing within you. This mysterious stranger was clearly teasing you, and it felt like a game to them. "Is this a game to you?" you couldn't help but ask, your voice laced with frustration. "Oh, but it is!" N exclaimed, their voice rising with amusement. "And I enjoy every minute of it!" The corners of their mouth curled into a mischievous smile as they reveled in the thrill of their own game. "But I digress, I can't help but overhear your musings earlier!" they added, their amusement evident in their tone. "Musings?" you said, unsure of what they were referring to. The air around you seemed to thicken with anticipation as N pulled out a deck of cards from their pockets, their nimble fingers fiddling with them in anticipation. "I can read you like an open book," N said, their voice filled with an eerie calmness. "I heard every word you uttered, and I understand your curiosity." With a flourish, they plucked a single card from the deck and brought it into your view. "The Jester," N revealed, a glint of mystery in their eyes. "He is a trickster, making fools of everyone and leaving no trace of his misdeeds. Like the jester, I wear a mask that hides my true identity. But rest assured, dear <<print $player_name>>, my intentions are pure. You and I are not so different after all," they said ominously, their words hanging in the air like a whispered secret. Even with the mask obscuring their face, you could sense their penetrating gaze fixed upon you. A mixture of curiosity and caution filled your thoughts as N's voice echoed through your mind. "Trust me, I won't hurt you," they assured, their voice carrying a hint of reassurance. "Now, why don't we try something a little more fun? How about some Tarot cards?" N suggested, pulling out a weathered red box adorned with faded markings, hinting at the mysteries it contained within. Gently lifting the lid, N let the cards scatter onto the floor, each one taking its own unique path. They seemed to dance on the air, as if guided by an unseen force. "How about a little game of chance?" N proposed, their eyes glittering with mischief and anticipation. Intrigued and unable to resist the pull of the unknown, you decided to humor them, your fingers instinctively reaching out to scoop up the scattered cards. Each one felt like a small piece of destiny in your hands, waiting to reveal its secrets. "How do we play?" you asked, your voice filled with eagerness and a touch of nervous excitement. "It's simple," N reassured, their voice low and conspiratorial. "We draw the cards, and depending on the number and shape of the card, we answer the riddles." Their words hung in the air, creating an atmosphere of suspense and intrigue. Your eyes widened as you marveled at the simplicity and yet profound complexity of the game. Your fingers delicately sorted the cards into their respective suits, their intricate designs and swirling patterns captivating your attention. As you immersed yourself in the details, N produced a small pencil and scrap of paper, ready to record the answers that would soon be revealed. Once the cards were neatly organized, you examined each one with a newfound appreciation. The weight of anticipation hung heavy in the air as you took note of the vibrant colors and intricate illustrations adorning each card. It was as if a portal to another world had opened before you, beckoning you to explore its depths. "Can we start now?" you asked, your voice filled with anticipation and a thirst for the unknown. "Let's," N agreed, their voice barely above a whisper. "You shuffle the cards and then choose two cards from the pile." Their eyes held yours, a silent understanding passing between you as you prepared to embark on this mystical journey together. You shrugged your shoulders, feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins. With a gentle touch, you followed N's instructions, shuffling the cards with a practiced hand. As you reached out to choose the first card, your fingers tingled with anticipation. The moment your hand made contact with the chosen card, N's voice filled the air, their tone filled with intrigue. "Ah, the Devil," they observed, their voice brimming with curiosity. N's eyes studied the card intently, their gaze analyzing every detail, as if seeking hidden truths within the sinister-looking creature depicted on the card. "The card suggests a need to indulge your sensual desires," they proclaimed, their voice rising with conviction. The words hung in the air, casting a spell of fascination and intrigue over you. Surprised by their interpretation, you flipped the card over to examine it more closely, studying the intricate details of the devilish figure with horns and pointed teeth. A mix of emotions swirled within you, a blend of fascination, amusement, and a hint of trepidation. "Well, that's certainly fascinating," you replied, your tone tinged with a mix of curiosity and amusement. N tilted their head, their eyes fixated on you, savoring your reaction like a connoisseur of emotions. "The next card shall reveal even more secrets about you," they whispered, their voice filled with an air of mystery and anticipation. With a graceful movement, they leaned towards the scattered pile of cards, their hand gliding effortlessly across their surface. The tension in the air grew, as if the cards themselves held the power to unlock the deepest recesses of your soul. "The Moon," N announced, their voice filled with awe and reverence, as if speaking of a celestial deity. "You might be dealing with secrets and mystery," they revealed, their words striking a chord within your being. The area seemed to darken slightly, as if the moon itself had cast its shadow over your surroundings, enveloping you in its enigmatic embrace. As you stood on the balcony, the weight of your secret burdened your heart. A gentle breeze swirled around you, caressing your hair with a delicate touch. It almost felt as though the wind itself was whispering secrets, secrets that had been locked away deep within your soul. The words echoed in your mind, resonating with a truth that hit uncomfortably close to home. You couldn't help but imagine the chaos that would ensue if you were to reveal the truth to those around you. What if you were to confess that this world, this entire existence, was nothing more than a creation of your imagination? That the people you interacted with were mere figments of your whims and desires? The mere thought sent shivers down your spine, and you knew instinctively that such a revelation would only lead to harm and hostility. Unintentionally, you released a sigh, your thoughts escaping into the cold air. N's masked gaze held a hint of concern as he inquired, "Is something troubling you?" Startled, you shook your head, realizing you had inadvertently voiced your thoughts. "It's nothing," you replied, attempting to dismiss your unsettling musings. "Please, continue. Do you see anything else?" N's head tilted as his fingers grazed the edge of a beautifully adorned card. His voice carried a weight of seriousness as he spoke. "Yes, the Sun," he began, his tone grave. "This card represents warmth, joy, and prosperity, but it also holds the potential for ego, arrogance, and selfishness." Your heart skipped a beat, the implications of his words sinking in. How could one card symbolize both the positive and negative aspects of life? Urgency tinged your voice as you sought to understand this contradiction. "How can it embody such opposing forces?" you asked, your words laced with a sense of urgency. N sighed, his disbelief evident in his expression. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice filled with incredulity. "Tarot is a mysterious and beautiful art, full of contradictions and complexities. Interpretation is an arduous task." Drawing another card, N continued, "The Wraith. Be warned, someone close to you is harboring deep darkness in their heart, and if left unchecked, it may manifest into something sinister. This card urges caution and vigilance in your surroundings." Your eyes widened as a mixture of curiosity and fear coursed through you. "How can you say that with such certainty?" you wondered aloud, marveling at his insights. N's shoulders slumped slightly as he leaned back, as if pondering the gravity of his own words. "It's something I've gleaned from studying the cards, from the symbolism within the artwork," he replied, his voice now tinged with hesitation. You nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. The need for vigilance and caution was clear. "Should we draw another card, then?" you suggested, hoping to lighten the somber mood that had settled upon you both. N's voice held a playful insistence as he urged, "Choose one for me, dear <<print $player_name>>. Please." You hesitated for a moment, considering the implications of the cards. Then, your fingers selected another card from the pile, holding it delicately between your hands. N examined it and started, "Seven of Cups, it looks like a cup with seven darts..." Their tone turned stern as they continued, "It signifies a restless mind, easily distracted. Your heart carries a burden, not just for yourself but for someone else as well. This is a potent card, demanding introspection." Your eyes widened as their analysis seemed to peel away layers of your inner thoughts, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. Could it truly be this straightforward for them to discern your inner struggles? N sensed your unease and quickly reassured you, "Don't get me wrong, dear <<print $player_name>>. It's not necessarily a bad thing. But it does require time and effort to navigate." You nodded, absorbing their wisdom. "What steps can I take to address this?" you inquired, a sense of urgency growing within you. N paused, his thoughts spinning as he contemplated your question. "We could begin by eliminating distractions—removing clutter and negative thoughts that cloud your mind," he suggested, his voice filled with conviction. The deck of Tarot cards was shuffled once more, and N divided it into three neat piles. "Choose one last card, and it shall guide your journey in the days to come. We've uncovered your curiosity and desire for secrets," he remarked, a hint of amusement dancing in his words. You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of their previous insights still lingering within you. "Okay, just give me a moment to recover from the shock of your insightful analysis," you said with a touch of humor. N chuckled softly. "Take your time, my dear <<print $player_name>>. I'm sure you have many questions and wonders about my words." After a few minutes spent centering yourself and calming your racing thoughts, you were ready for the final card. You shuffled the cards expertly, placed them in a single pile, and closed your eyes. N's encouraging words filled the air, "Don't overthink, dear MC. You have what it takes to choose the right card." In response, you nodded with newfound determination. "This time, I know exactly which card I'll choose." ''//PICK YOUR FATE//'' [[1st Pile]] [[2nd Pile]] [[3rd Pile]]

With a warm smile, you confidently turned over the card on the 1st pile, your gaze fixing on the one that felt right. "Ah, the Tower," you began, your voice steady as you described the card's imagery. "It's like a towering structure being struck by lightning, engulfed in flames. It symbolizes the end of something, change, and rebirth." N's eyes were filled with awe as they examined the card's intricate details, absorbing its symbolism. "The card suggests that you are currently undergoing a metamorphosis, a transformation that affects both your inner self and the world around you. It can be a painful process, but it's ultimately necessary for personal growth." A shiver of recognition coursed through you as you listened to N's words. "You're absolutely right," you admitted, your voice carrying the weight of realization. "It feels like my life is on the cusp of a profound change." Amused by your admission, N chuckled, his tone lighthearted and teasing. "It seems you're ready to embrace this new journey," they remarked, their gaze holding a playful glint. "But remember, dear <<print $player_name>>, the Tower's change can be either for good or ill, so tread carefully." Undaunted, you drew another card, your fingers caressing its surface as if seeking guidance. The card's presence seemed to still your mind and soothe your spirit. "The World," you announced, your voice carrying a sense of accomplishment. "It signifies the completion of a significant task or goal, requiring self-confidence and faith. Yet, it also suggests that something new lies ahead." N's voice filled with awe as they spoke, "This card signifies that you've achieved a great feat, but it's not the end of your journey. It's a sign that you're finally coming to terms with yourself." Taking a deep breath, you nodded, feeling a profound sense of gratitude for their insights. "That resonates with me," you murmured, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "It's as if I've gained control over my destiny, rather than being controlled by the world around me." N's gaze remained fixed on the card, captivated by its intricate artwork. "But remember, dear <<print $player_name>>, this isn't the end of your story. Embrace this chance and face whatever awaits you with courage." Slowly emerging from your introspective thoughts, you took a moment to breathe and refocus on the world around you. "I must be stronger than ever," you affirmed, echoing N's words. Sensing your vulnerability, N reached out and gently patted your shoulder. "Your journey is just beginning. Don't let anyone stand in your way, for there's a light at the end of the tunnel." Touched by their support and guidance, you tenderly traced the edges of the Tower card with your fingertips. "Thank you," you whispered, feeling a deep wellspring of gratitude in your heart. "That's exactly what I needed to hear." With that, you cast your gaze over the scattered cards, each one now imbued with a newfound sense of purpose and meaning. Thank you, N!" you exclaimed gratefully, watching as N carefully gathered the cards and returned them to their ornate box. The lid closed with a soft click, bringing a sense of finality to the unsettling experience. "My pleasure!" N exclaimed, their voice filled with a sense of mystery and intrigue, as they concealed the box behind their flowing cape. With a swift motion, the box vanished from sight, disappearing into the depths of N's mysterious attire. The air crackled with anticipation as you gazed at the spot where the box once lay, a sense of wonder and curiosity filling your heart. "Now that you have discovered a piece of your truth," N's voice echoed in your ears, their words dripping with wisdom and guidance, "take this knowledge and use it well. Live true to yourself, and don't be afraid to face your fears and doubts." The weight of their words settled upon you, igniting a renewed sense of determination that coursed through your veins. With a deep breath, you lifted your gaze towards the heavens, the warmth of the sun's rays enveloping your face in a gentle embrace. The sky stretched out before you, an infinite canvas of possibilities. Your eyes scanned the expanse, searching for answers, for a sign of what lay ahead. "I'm ready for the next step," you declared, your voice filled with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. However, when you turned to your side, expecting to find N standing there, they were nowhere to be found. Panic surged through your chest as your eyes darted around, desperately seeking any trace of their presence. "N?" you called out, your voice reverberating across the silent balcony. "Are you still there?" Silence greeted your call, only broken by the soft rustling of wind that whispered through the gaps in the balcony's iron bars. Your heart sank as you realized N had disappeared, leaving behind only the remnants of their words and presence. A small card lay on the ground, a lone artifact in the wake of their departure. With trembling hands, you reached down and picked it up, studying its intricate design. The card depicted a radiant sun, its golden rays cascading outward in a vibrant halo. It emanated warmth and light, a symbol of hope and guidance. Memories of N's analytical insights flickered through your mind, intermingling with a surge of comfort and courage that enveloped your being. A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you silently thanked N for their invaluable guidance. "Thank you, N once again," you murmured, clutching the card tightly against your chest. "I'm ready for whatever challenges may lie ahead." With renewed resolve, you stepped off the balcony, feeling the lingering touch of N's presence on your skin, like a fleeting whisper. Their profound insights had ignited a flame within you, propelling you forward with a sense of purpose and determination. Suddenly, the blast of a trumpet shattered the air, its resounding notes piercing through the atmosphere. One... two... three... The consecutive blasts of the trumpet signaled an imminent arrival. "Open the gates!" a guard's voice boomed, commanding the gears to turn and the bridge to lower. "The Assets have arrived!" you exclaimed, a surge of excitement coursing through your veins. Cheers, woohoos, and an infectious wave of anticipation filled the air as you observed the procession from above. You had never seen anything like this before, so many sights, sounds, and smells flooding your senses at once. The sight of the King's Elite alone was enough to fill the crowd with exhilaration. And this was just the beginning. You stand at the edge of the balcony, your heart pounding in your chest, as you gaze down at the vast procession that winds its way through the streets below. The air is thick with anticipation. The crowd is a sea of colors and faces, a kaleidoscope of emotions and whispered conversations. You can't help but gasp at the sight before you, a mixture of awe and fear coursing through your veins. "They're almost upon us now," you gasp, barely able to find your voice as you watch the procession draw nearer. The sound of your own words seems to get lost in the chaos below, swallowed by the sea of noise and excitement. You turn your head, searching for someone to share your joy with, but find only empty space. Just as you start to wonder if you're alone in your thoughts, a voice, soft and mysterious, whispers in your ear. "Just wait until they've settled in the royal palace," it says, sending a shiver down your spine. You spin around, startled by the sudden presence of a man standing beside you. His emerald eyes twinkle mischievously, and his lips curl into a cocky grin as he takes in your startled expression. Dressed in a green tunic, a quiver at his side and a bow strapped to his back, the man exudes an air of adventure and danger. His medium brown hair falls gracefully to his ears, framing his distinctive features. A well-groomed beard adds a touch of ruggedness to his appearance. But it's his eyes that captivate you, holding a hint of mystery and wonder, as if he's seen things that defy imagination. "Wait, I know you!" you exclaim, your memory suddenly jolting into action. "We met at the bar!" Recognition floods your mind as you recall those emerald eyes, burning with a fierce intensity. The man's lips curve into a smirk as he nods, confirming your memory. "Ahhh! I'm touched!" the man bows his head mockingly. "The name is Elrick...Elrick Graves!" he declares, raising his head and winking at you. You gasp in surprise, your eyes widening at the revelation. "Elrick, The Watchful Eagle??" you whisper, unable to contain your amazement. Elrick tilts his head, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Yes, I'm pleased to meet you as well," he replies smoothly, his voice laced with a hint of playfulness. "It seems you know my name and reputation, so you must be of good caliber as well," he continues, a hint of interest rising in his voice. You pause, unsure how to respond to his question. "Well, I've heard much about you from the servants, and it seems you've come to help us in these dark times. Thank you for your service, and I hope we can work together to bring peace and stability back to the kingdom," you reply. "I'm sure we can," Elrick said simply, his voice filled with conviction. "But first, would you like to join me for a drink?" he added, hand going to his side and procuring a flask. "I'm sure you have lot's of questions and besides the procession down there will take ages before they reach the castle! Flair and thearatics and all that!" he shakes the flask in the air. "Come! Let's get acquainted. What do you say?" You cannot help but admire his cheekiness and audacity as you weigh your options. Finally, you acquiesce. "I have time. But we chat here!" you say still doubting the intentions of this person. This persona and mystique. With a chuckle, Elrick nods he stands near the railings and you standing on a safe distance from him. "So what would you like to talk about, dear <<print$player_name>>?" he inquired, his voice filled with interest and intrigue. "I know you've heard a lot about me. What can I do to prove my identity and of my collegues as well?" You could barely contain your astonishment. His boldness seemed to know no bounds, and you couldn't help but marvel at his unwavering confidence. It was almost as if he had nothing to hide, and yet there was something else lurking beneath the surface. <<linkreplace "Tell me about your badge!">> The silence in the air was thick, almost suffocating, as you carefully considered your response. Time seemed to stand still as you weighed your words, the weight of uncertainty clinging to your voice. Finally, you spoke, your tone carrying a hint of trepidation, "Tell me about your shiny badge," you pointed to the gleaming gold emblem adorning his chest, catching the sunlight and casting a radiant glow. Elrick raised an eyebrow, his gaze flickering to where you were pointing. "My badge?" he repeated, curiosity lacing his words. "Well, I suppose it's no secret that I earned this badge as a member of the king's elite. As you already know, I am Elrick, The Watchful Eagle. It took years of rigorous training, unwavering dedication, and relentless study to attain this position." Your skepticism seeped through your words as you questioned, "Just like that?" Smirking, Elrick took a swig from his flask, a playful glint in his eye. "Well, what if I told you that when I was merely six years old, my mentor took me on a hunting expedition? It was on that day that I single-handedly brought down a mighty deer with my bow. But that's not all," he chuckled, relishing in the intrigue. "My mentor then made me deliver the final blow, plunging the killing blow into the quarry's stomach. From that moment on, my path was set, and the rest, as they say, is history!" Your jaw dropped in awe, the scene playing out in your mind's eye. Elrick's words painted a vivid picture of a young prodigy, destined for greatness. Yet, a lingering doubt tugged at your senses, cautioning you against accepting his tale at face value. He seemed too perfect, too untouchable, and this conversation, though engaging, did not warrant immediate confirmation. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Who's that woman with the swords?">> As your gaze wandered, it caught sight of a figure below, moving with an air of confidence. Her head held high, her hair a cascade of snow-white, and her cold blue eyes darting with a mix of distrust and paranoia. Dual swords were sheathed at her side, gleaming with a deadly aura. "Wait a minute," you exclaimed, your voice laced with intrigue. "Who is that woman down there?" Elrick shook his head, a wry grin playing on his lips. "Ah, you mean the woman with the short, pixie-cut white hair and the two swords," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of admiration. "That, my friend, is Luna, The Vicious Wolf. She is known far and wide for her ruthlessness and deadly prowess in battle. Her swords, honed to a razor-sharp edge, are ready to slice through flesh like butter." You stood there, your breath caught in your throat, utterly astounded by his words. "No, she looks like she's friendly!" you gasped, your eyes fixed on her as she growled menacingly at the man offering her a rose. The contradiction was unfathomable, and you couldn't help but question your own judgment. "Never judge a book by its cover," Elrick countered, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. His words hung in the air, laced with a touch of mystery. "I must admit, her appearance is deceiving with a beautiful face like that, but she's a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Her strength, speed, and agility are unmatched, and she uses them to her advantage. That's why she earned the name Vicious Wolf." You couldn't help but be intrigued by Elrick's words, your mind swimming with curiosity and a desire to know more. "I've heard stories about her mentor leaving her alone in the forest to fend for herself," he hesitated, trying to make sense of it all. "And she was only eight years old at the time! Can you believe it?" he murmurs. "All just by yourself in the dark, no one to help you, no one to offer you comfort its just you and the wilderness. Elrick shook his head, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I doubt she ever enjoyed her time with her mentor," he chuckled, a glimmer of admiration shining in his eyes. "She's a tough nut to crack, but don't let her strength or ferocity fool you. When she wants to, she can be as gentle as a lamb." The air around you seemed to shift, as if the weight of their experiences was pressing down on you. "Alright, be honest with me," you implored, your voice tinged with confusion. "Are your mentors... are they a bit crazy? What's with the extreme training at such a young age?" Elrick frowned, his brow furrowing as he contemplated your question. "I wouldn't go so far as to call them crazy," he responded, his voice tinged with defensiveness. "The training regimen may be dangerous and rigorous, but it's necessary. We need to develop the skills required for our roles in the royal court." "Why does the training have to be so harsh and life-threatening?" you pressed, your eyes locked with Elrick's. "It feels less like a demonstration of skill and more like a test of survival." A mischievous glint danced in Elrick's eyes, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I'll let you in on a little secret," he whispered, leaning in conspiratorially. "The king is searching for the best soldiers to watch over and safeguard his kingdom. Those of us who train and strive to become his elite guards are given the opportunity to prove ourselves worthy of the honor. It's not just about skill; it's about survival and dedication." Your protests grew stronger, your confusion deeper. "But do they really train the younglings to be as cruel and menacing as the others you mentioned? Can you clarify this for me? It seems like your mentor might be a bad influence." Elrick let out a weary sigh, his frustration evident in his voice. "My mentor wasn't a bad influence, per se," he explained, a tinge of sadness coloring his words. "He wanted to train me to be the best, pushing me to the limits of my endurance. He was like a father to me, even if his methods were unconventional. Our mentors are responsible for us, and their ways may seem crazy, but they are doing what they believe is necessary. We are their responsibility, and the thought of losing us is devastating to them." The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, casting a sense of solemnity over the scene. A shiver ran through you as the significance of his words sank in. These elite guards were not simply flamboyant heroes, prancing across the battlefields. They were human, with fears, hopes, and dreams, just like you. The realization struck you, sending shockwaves through your system. Unable to contain your curiosity, you voiced your thoughts, "So the mentors are, uh, training these younglings to serve the king by killing monsters and protecting people right?" Lowering his gaze, Elrick smiled sadly. "Well, it's a bit more complicated than that. The thing is that being a soldier can be a rather lonely and scary profession. It's not easy to fight against the monster and be scared of your own survival," he paused, the silence thick between you. "The monsters we're referring to may not always be the ones found in the deepest, darkest places of the world, and the battle we fight may be psychological." You shook your head, trying to comprehend his meaning. "So you're saying that the mentors are conditioning you, emotionally and psychologically, to be able to deal with the stress, fear, and trauma associated with fighting monsters or evil people?" Elrick nodded slowly, a mixture of empathy and sadness coloring his expression. "Yes, that's part of it. But it's not just about training for battle," he revealed, his voice softening with each word. "It's also about building relationships and creating a support system. When we're faced with the most terrifying and dangerous situations, we need someone to lean on." You frowned, his words tugging at something deep inside you. "Why would the king care about his elite guards developing mental and emotional resilience, though?" Amusement danced in Elrick's emerald eyes as he replied, "Because the king is not just a tyrant, or someone who's concerned solely with his own survival. He's a leader, a protector, and a visionary. He knows that his elite guards are the foundation upon which his kingdom rests." "Wow," you whispered, a sense of wonder creeping into your voice. "That's a profound sentiment, coming from an elite guard," you commented, a hint of sarcasm lacing your words. Chuckling softly, Elrick leaned back, a lazy grin playing on his lips. "Well, as I've said, it's a bit more complicated than what I've told you. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Is she throwing real...GOLD?!">> You heard the clinking of coins being tossed to the ground, even your eyes a blinded for a moment when you got hit by the reflection. "IS THAT REAL GOLD?" you ask surprised and rubbing your eyes. Elrick laughs and crossing his arms, leaning his weight into the railings of the balcony. "Yes its Gold, that will be my asscoiate and friend Serena, The Cunning Fox. The Cunning Fox emerges from the crowd, taking long confident strides. She did multiple flips in quick succession and jumping and twirling in the air before landing on a handstand to which the crowd erupts in a frenzy for her daring performance. "She's the thief of our motley group and can't help but show off her skill and talents every chance she gets. Another talent she possesses is seduction, which she uses to her advantage when she sneaks in and out of places to plunder. The more money she steals, the more reckless she becomes." The Cunning Fox pushed her body upwards and landing on her feet, then her head moves upward and lock eyes with you. "Oi Elrick! So there's where you been!" she shouts, yet her eyes not leaving you. Elrick waves to her "Hold your horses dear partner, I'm just accompanying this lovely stranger here and trying to win ?mctheir affections. Anyways, ?mcthey's a pretty nosy one, ?mcthey hasn't taken their eyes off me since we arrived." "Heh! Whatever you say Elrick just leave some of them for me!" Serena smiles at you, her red lips curving into a seductive smirk. The crowd gone quiet, following the gaze of Serena and then burst into cheers. "There's Elrick!" a girl screech like a banshee and some fainting because of the excitement. "What say ye Elrick that we gave these people a show!" she says and plucking out a dagger from her belt and twirling it in her fingers. "Can't help it can you Serena?" Elrick chuckles unslinging his bow from his back and drawing out arrows from his quiver. Then Serena threw the daggers in the air and Elrick quickly notched the arrow in his bow and fired. With precision and beauty, the knives fly through the air while the arrows hit their mark, the pointed tips aimed at the cold steel in a truly breathtaking display. "Isn't it glorious, darling?" she coos at you, winking too. The audience's reactions are nothing short of spectacular, with their oohs and ahs adding to the already amazing atmosphere, their amazement and awe spreading like a lovely perfume. Although the excitement was brief, Luna's quick thinking and agility were on full display as she leaped onto a passing carriage to retrieve the knives. "Enough with you two! Don't you know how dangerous that stunt was?" she said panicky. "She's always so uptight. Elegant and refined," Elrick rolled his eyes. "Oh for Pete's sake come on, show a little creativity!" Serena protested. "But it was a good show! Their showmanship was spot-on!" You agreed, applauding at the performance. "I enjoyed the show and would recommend you do it again next time. It was like watching a ballet." Serena leaned forward, her gaze locked on yours, "Oh darling, have we piqued your interest?" then she blew a kiss at your direction. Luna snap her head at you, glaring daggers. "So seeing these wonderful people get stabbed in the face by these falling daggers is a good show?" she ask sardonically. "Err. I don't mean it like that. They just looked very good up there, being skillful and showing off their talents," you tried to explain, your cheeks flushing a light pink. "Don't be too dazzled. These performers as they call themselves are experts at distraction and diversion. They're masters of misdirection, and you might wake up one day with your valuables missing," Luna shakes her head, a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of her mouth. "C'mon Looney, already busting me?" Serena laughs and jiggling a pouch of coin. Luna's eyes narrows at her. "You stole my...GOLD? And is that my purse of gems?!" her voice dripping with irritation. Serena clutches the pouch in her hand, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "It was a part of the act, like the good old days. No hard feelings, right? Besides look at these cute children who is grateful for your generosity!" she ruffles a girl on the head and pat a boy affectionately. Luna takes a few steps towards her, anger rising in her body, and she has to check herself as a realization strikes her. They're causing a scene, and it's not exactly wise to go full throttle in front of witnesses. "Be thankful there's children present!" she snatched her purse back from Serena. "You are going to owe me, and I swear I'm going to make you pay back every single coin you took from me." "Hey! Let's going the King and Queen will not be pleased that we already late on our first day of visit!" Elrick laughs. Luna, upon hearing his words, immediately urged the procession to move forward once more. On either side of her, Serena entertained the crowd with her impressive knife juggling act and acrobatics, keeping them thoroughly entertained. Meanwhile, you couldn't help but stare in wonder. You knew you would be in awe of their presence for weeks to come. The way they held themselves, with an air of confidence and power, was enchanting. Your eyes swept over them, taking in every detail, every nuance, trying to commit it all to memory. This was a moment you would never forget. "So last question <<print $player_name>> before we trail behind them!" Elrick laughs, slinging his bow behind his back and looking at you intently. "As you can see there's a huge crowd of people and we're not the center of attention anymore. So, what can you do for me?" You hesitated, caught off guard by his question. "Well, I'm afraid I'm not sure what you're asking." "Hmm," Elrick shrugged and shrugs himself. "Wouldn't hurt to try and flirt back right?" Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and you felt the heat rising in your body. You struggled to form a coherent thought, much less a sentence. However, something seemed to snap inside you, and without thinking, you blurted, "Don't flirt with me! There's no way I'll be charmed by the likes of you! I won't be tricked into handing my heart, or my virginity, to a man who doesn't care for anything but the thrill of the chase." A smile tugged at the corners of Elrick's lips, his emerald eyes glittering with mischief. "Well, well, what do we have here? Someone sounds a little jaded. Perhaps you've been scorned before? Tell me, darling, why not have a little faith?" Incensed, you glared at him, your anger flaring like a furnace, ready to burn with the slightest spark, yet you bit your tongue. "Tell me! Why the need to protect their Majesties palace? Are you keeping secrets?" Your gaze flickered towards the palace, taking in its grandeur, its ornate fixtures and luxurious surroundings. You couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation creeping into your consciousness. There was something ominous and foreboding about the scene unfolding before you, and you weren't quite sure why. It was as if there was an underlying threat lurking beneath the beauty and opulence. With a wry smile, Elrick replied, "Darling, it's not our place to know. It's simply our duty to protect and serve the King and Queen, as we've been entrusted with this mission by King Hendrick himself. We are the shield and sword that stands in the face of danger." As you watched the procession continue to weave its way through the streets, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story. It was as if there was a plot unfolding right in front of you, yet you were unable to grasp it. The pieces were scattered and shrouded, just beyond your reach, taunting you with their secrets. Narrowing your eyes, you took a deep breath and shook your head. "There's more to this story, Elrick. Something's not adding up," you insisted, your voice laced with a hint of desperation. "Stop with the cloak-and-dagger routine and tell me what's really going on! You're hiding something, and I want to know what it is." With a defeated sigh, Elrick leaned back against the railings and cast his eyes toward the sky. "Don't look at me, luv, I'm just a simple soldier obeying orders, no more and no less." "I call bull," you countered, watching his face for any hint of deception. His demeanor was still and composed, his emerald eyes alight with a mixture of frustration and amusement. "Very well, your agent Sarah told us of a phantom attacked you in the past yes!" he says, eyes turning serious. You nod, prompting him to continue. "Well King Richard and Queen Isobel fears that they might return to finish the job and they want us to stand guard and appease the people because nothing is much worse than a civil war happening inside the castle." "What do you mean?" you ask, as your eyes dart around nervously. "Well...I mean is that the people are wondering why the King and Queen are throwing their money and time into these elite guards who, mayhaps, aren't needed and are just a show of power. So they're getting antsy and tensions are rising," he explains, his lips curving into a pouty smile. "However it seems you my dear <<print $player_name>> and your gang got a mission of your own, a little trip to Riverside, so have I heard!" he quirks his eyebrow at you. "So the Chosen One being gone, accompanied by the Royal Princess and Protector not to mention the Dragoness leaving on the same day! Don't you think that might raise some suspicions on the populace?" he inquires. You take a deep breath and lean forward, eyeing Elrick intently. You couldn't believe the nerve of this man, accusing you of deceit and subterfuge. This was not how you'd expected the conversation to go. "It's none of your business what I'm doing and where I'm going," you huffed, annoyance coloring your tone. "If you're concerned about keeping the peace, then I suggest you focus on your duties and stop anaylyzing me." "Why?" Elrick chuckles. "Feeling exposed are we?" he asked playfully. You groaned. "Just don't look at me," you hissed through gritted teeth. "Believe me darling, I'm not interested in you," Elrick smirked, his gaze locked on yours. "Tough tiddy," you shot back, your cheeks flushing red you don't if its from offence or embaressment. "Sorry that's the truth, there's someone waiting for me back home and I want to win their heart before my team can win it first." Elrick answered honestly. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Were late and how are we gonna enter the throne room now!?">> You shake your head in disbelief. "Uh huh!" you muse but you decided not to pry any further. "So how are we getting into the throne room? you ask incredously at Elrick. "Getting bored of my company already?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement. "Don't worry, we'll be fine," he added, winking at you, the smile lines around his eyes crinkling as he grinned. You watched him tuck his flask back into his belt, a playful glint in his eyes. "How about... We should try walking into the throne room!" he announced, his voice filled with excitement. He runs a hand through his hair, his confident stride matching the swagger in his voice. "But the doors will be closed, and no matter how loud we knock, we can't be heard from the inside!" you reasoned, trying to bring some logic into his impulsive plan. Elrick stood to his full height, stretching his arms and twisting his torso. "You know I'm the tracker in our group, and one of the requirements of a tracker is that your body needs to be agile and flexible," he boasted, puffing out his chest and clenching his fists dramatically. "Let's just say my muscles are always ready to make things happen," he declared with a smirk. Rolling your eyes, you muttered, "Wow! Elrick is such a show-off!" His confidence sometimes bordered on arrogance, and you couldn't help but find it a little irritating. "It's all about having confidence in yourself, darling," Elrick sauntered towards the railings and swung his leg over it. "You gotta look good while doing it," he added, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Besides, there are other ways to the throne room if we're not going through the traditional means," he continued, his eyes glinting with mischief. Suddenly, his body pushed itself off the railings, and he gracefully soared through the air, twisting before landing onto the next lower roof. "There you go!" he shouted out to you, glancing back to see your shocked expression. "Wait... You're crazy!" you screeched at him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Gotta move quickly before you fall behind. Let's just get to the palace already!" Elrick called back, a carefree grin spread across his features. You hesitated, torn between caution and the desire for adventure. But in that moment, you decided to throw caution to the wind. Wrapping your hands tightly around the railing, you jumped onto the next lower roof, ignoring the voice of reason in your head. "Here!" Elrick moved closer below your landing point. "I will catch you, luv!" he said, his arms stretched out, ready to break your fall. "Really?! I doubt you're strong enough to catch me from such a long drop. It's way too risky!" you called back, your voice filled with uncertainty and doubt. "No worries, <<print $player_name>>! I've caught much bigger people and even dangerous wild animals. You're not too heavy," Elrick reassured you with unwavering confidence. "Alright, if you say so," you replied, still unsure of his strength. "But if you drop me, I swear..." Elrick cut you off, a playful glint in his eyes. "Don't worry, just focus on landing without breaking a leg or fracturing something," he teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for the jump. A gust of wind swept by, knocking you off balance, but you regained control just in time. With a scream of terror, you leaped, your body weightless as you reached out for Elrick. Time seemed to slow down as your hands met his outstretched ones, and for a moment, you felt like you were flying. The impact of your landing jolted your body, causing you to cry out in pain as you fell into his firm, yet not-so-soft, arms. "There you go!" Elrick grinned, his arms wrapped around your body protectively. "I've got you," he said, his green eyes locking with yours. "You think so?" you gasped, a mixture of fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins. "Come on, let's get out of here before they start without us," he suggested, motioning towards the next rooftop. As you stood up, you couldn't help but admire Elrick's strength and grace. He moved with an ease and confidence that left you in awe. You envied his ability to stay calm in the face of danger and wondered how he maintained such a relaxed demeanor. As you approached the edge of the building, the distant sound of rushing water reached your ears. "Is that the canal?" you asked, your mind whirling with possibilities. "It is! We have to swim downstream to enter the palace's secret passage!" Elrick proclaimed with glee. "We? But I didn't bring my swimming gear!" you protested, panic rising in your chest. Elrick simply smiled, his emerald eyes gleaming with mischief. "We'll manage. Besides, think of it as a quick shower," he quipped. "Plus I do want to see how good you look in wet!" he wiggles his eyebrows. "First off creepy and treat me to dinner first! Second! How do you even know these things?" you questioned him, your curiosity piqued and your nostrils flaring at his advances . Elrick rotated his neck, stretching it. "It's my job to know, and it's my job to know my environment," he replied cryptically. Then, he put his hands together and hunched low, preparing to dive. "You do know how to swim, right?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice. You bristled, refusing to answer his question. "Well, I'm not that stupid to not know how to swim," you retorted, annoyed at his implication. "Okay then, jump after me and don't hesitate, or you might slip, hit your head, or drown," he advised, winking at you. Before you could respond, he cannonballed into the water, creating a splash that sent ripples in every direction. A few seconds later, he resurfaced, his eyes locked onto yours, his gaze piercing and filled with determination. "If you're worried about drowning, don't worry. I know mouth-to-mouth," he says cheekily, his lips glistening as he ran his tongue over them. You couldn't help but throw your head back and laugh. "Not on your life, luv! You're not touching my mouth," you shouted down at him, a mixture of amusement and exasperation in your voice. "What a pity, but suit yourself, I guess," he mused, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. Elrick kept his eyes fixed on you as you slowly descended the steps, your hands grasping the cool stone. The anticipation and fear mingled within you, creating a swirling storm of emotions. But you knew you had to push through. The coldness of the water enveloped you as you jumped, sending chills up your arms and legs. You refused to let it show, determined to match Elrick's confidence. As you resurfaced, you noticed him eyeing you with a smile. "Nice landing, luv," he grinned, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "Thanks," you muttered, trying to hide the warmth that rose in your cheeks. The two of you silently swam against the current, your muscles growing weary from the exertion. After what felt like hours, you finally reached a place where a passageway led in three different directions. "Great, where to now?" you groaned, your body aching from the effort. Elrick remained quiet, kneeling down and touching the cool floor. "Judging by these disturbances, the wet splashes, the foot traffic as evidenced by the footprints, and the lack of cobwebs on the ceilings, it means we have to take the left path," he deduced, his voice serious and confident. You stared at Elrick incredulously. "Are you kidding me? Do you really expect me to trust your plan when you're basing it off random splashes and footprints?" you screeched, your frustration seeping into your tone. Elrick looked at you, his face straight and serious. "Trust me on this," he insisted, motioning for you to follow him. You let out a sigh of exasperation, not fully convinced but willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Reluctantly, you trailed behind him, your mind filled with doubts but also a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he knew what he was doing. ''//(AN: So with Elrick and your MC is having the journey of their lives let's get a look on what's happening on the throne room on the POV of Lee. Afterall, I'm sure your curious to how he's coping up with Garett finally waking up after all this time!)//'' <</linkreplace>> [[Next|Inside The Castle]]

With a gentle smile, you gracefully turned over the cards from the 2nd pile, your gaze fixating on the intricate image before you. "The Lovers," you whispered, your voice filled with wonder as you examined the card's captivating imagery. As your gaze roamed the card, you found yourself inexplicably captivated by its intricate imagery. Two ethereal figures, their wings spread wide, stood before a breathtaking sunlit backdrop. The figures, one male and one female, faced each other with an intensity that hinted at desire and yearning beyond words. N met your gaze, their eyes filled with wisdom. "No, my dear," they reassured you, their voice carrying a solemn tone. "The Lovers card signifies a person close to your heart who is currently grappling with a difficult choice. They are torn between following their heart's desires or adhering to the rationality of their mind. It serves as a reminder that they may make choices that are not necessarily in their best interest or that might lead them down a troubled path. Unfortunately, the cards do not reveal the specific person or the consequences of their actions." You nodded, absorbing N's words with a sense of understanding. "I see," you replied, your voice tinged with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. "In that case, I will remain vigilant and keep a watchful eye on those who seem to be struggling." N tilted their head, their expression thoughtful. "Indeed, that would be wise," they mused. "Based on everything you've shared with me so far, it seems prudent to pay extra attention to those close to you, particularly those who exhibit signs of inner turmoil or unusual behavior." Your agreement was swift, a silent acknowledgement of the advice N had offered. "Thank you, N," you said sincerely. "Your honesty and insight are truly invaluable. I believe it's time for me to conduct my own investigation and gain a deeper understanding of this intricate situation." N nodded approvingly, a glimmer of anticipation in their eyes. "An excellent plan," they murmured in agreement. "Remember, as you explore further, there may be hidden clues within the cards themselves. Trust your instincts and be open to the revelations that may come your way." With a newfound determination, you flipped the second card on the second pile, your heart pounding with anticipation. N's eyes widened in surprise as their gaze fell upon the revealed card. "The 2 of Cups," they exclaimed, their voice brimming with excitement. "This card signifies that your heart yearns for a partner who not only cherishes your intellect but also values your companionship. It speaks of a profound connection and hints at the potential for a long-term commitment." N turned their gaze towards you, a playful smirk dancing on their lips. The melodic timbre of their voice resonated in the room, carrying a hint of laughter. "I can safely say that someone near you is thinking about you, all the time if I may add." they stated, their words laced with a touch of mystery and playfullness. A playful glint sparkled in your eyes as you responded in jest, your voice dripping with humor. "Well, it's no surprise, really," you quipped. "I am young and beautiful after all. How could they resist?" N chuckled softly, their amusement evident. They nodded in agreement, acknowledging the truth in your words. "Indeed, dear <<print $player_name>>," they replied. "But remember, there is no rush. Take your time, and allow yourself to find someone who truly resonates with your soul, someone with whom you feel truly comfortable." You nodded, a sense of gratitude swelling within you. "You're right, N," you sighed, a hint of appreciation coloring your voice. "It's not just about physical attraction. It's about forging a deep connection with someone I can trust wholeheartedly. Thank you for your unwavering support and guidance." N's voice filled the surroundings once more, their tone reverent. "It's always a pleasure," they murmured, their words brimming with a sense of wonder and reverence. "May you possess the wisdom to navigate this journey and make the best decision possible." Thank you, N!" you exclaimed gratefully, watching as N carefully gathered the cards and returned them to their ornate box. The lid closed with a soft click, bringing a sense of finality to the unsettling experience. "My pleasure!" N exclaimed, their voice filled with a sense of mystery and intrigue, as they concealed the box behind their flowing cape. With a swift motion, the box vanished from sight, disappearing into the depths of N's mysterious attire. The air crackled with anticipation as you gazed at the spot where the box once lay, a sense of wonder and curiosity filling your heart. "Now that you have discovered a piece of your truth," N's voice echoed in your ears, their words dripping with wisdom and guidance, "take this knowledge and use it well. Live true to yourself, and don't be afraid to face your fears and doubts." The weight of their words settled upon you, igniting a renewed sense of determination that coursed through your veins. With a deep breath, you lifted your gaze towards the heavens, the warmth of the sun's rays enveloping your face in a gentle embrace. The sky stretched out before you, an infinite canvas of possibilities. Your eyes scanned the expanse, searching for answers, for a sign of what lay ahead. "I'm ready for the next step," you declared, your voice filled with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. However, when you turned to your side, expecting to find N standing there, they were nowhere to be found. Panic surged through your chest as your eyes darted around, desperately seeking any trace of their presence. "N?" you called out, your voice reverberating across the silent balcony. "Are you still there?" Silence greeted your call, only broken by the soft rustling of wind that whispered through the gaps in the balcony's iron bars. Your heart sank as you realized N had disappeared, leaving behind only the remnants of their words and presence. A small card lay on the ground, a lone artifact in the wake of their departure. With trembling hands, you reached down and picked it up, studying its intricate design. The card depicted a radiant sun, its golden rays cascading outward in a vibrant halo. It emanated warmth and light, a symbol of hope and guidance. Memories of N's analytical insights flickered through your mind, intermingling with a surge of comfort and courage that enveloped your being. A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you silently thanked N for their invaluable guidance. "Thank you, N," you murmured, clutching the card tightly against your chest. "I'm ready for whatever challenges may lie ahead." With renewed resolve, you stepped off the balcony, feeling the lingering touch of N's presence on your skin, like a fleeting whisper. Their profound insights had ignited a flame within you, propelling you forward with a sense of purpose and determination. Suddenly, the blast of a trumpet shattered the air, its resounding notes piercing through the atmosphere. One... two... three... The consecutive blasts of the trumpet signaled an imminent arrival. "Open the gates!" a guard's voice boomed, commanding the gears to turn and the bridge to lower. "The Assets have arrived!" you exclaimed, a surge of excitement coursing through your veins. Cheers, woohoos, and an infectious wave of anticipation filled the air as you observed the procession from above. You had never seen anything like this before, so many sights, sounds, and smells flooding your senses at once. The sight of the King's Elite alone was enough to fill the crowd with exhilaration. And this was just the beginning. You stand at the edge of the balcony, your heart pounding in your chest, as you gaze down at the vast procession that winds its way through the streets below. The air is thick with anticipation. The crowd is a sea of colors and faces, a kaleidoscope of emotions and whispered conversations. You can't help but gasp at the sight before you, a mixture of awe and fear coursing through your veins. "They're almost upon us now," you gasp, barely able to find your voice as you watch the procession draw nearer. The sound of your own words seems to get lost in the chaos below, swallowed by the sea of noise and excitement. You turn your head, searching for someone to share your joy with, but find only empty space. Just as you start to wonder if you're alone in your thoughts, a voice, soft and mysterious, whispers in your ear. "Just wait until they've settled in the royal palace," it says, sending a shiver down your spine. You spin around, startled by the sudden presence of a man standing beside you. His emerald eyes twinkle mischievously, and his lips curl into a cocky grin as he takes in your startled expression. Dressed in a green tunic, a quiver at his side and a bow strapped to his back, the man exudes an air of adventure and danger. His medium brown hair falls gracefully to his ears, framing his distinctive features. A well-groomed beard adds a touch of ruggedness to his appearance. But it's his eyes that captivate you, holding a hint of mystery and wonder, as if he's seen things that defy imagination. "Wait, I know you!" you exclaim, your memory suddenly jolting into action. "We met at the bar!" Recognition floods your mind as you recall those emerald eyes, burning with a fierce intensity. The man's lips curve into a smirk as he nods, confirming your memory. "Ahhh! I'm touched!" the man bows his head mockingly. "The name is Elrick...Elrick Graves!" he declares, raising his head and winking at you. You gasp in surprise, your eyes widening at the revelation. "Elrick, The Watchful Eagle??" you whisper, unable to contain your amazement. Elrick tilts his head, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Yes, I'm pleased to meet you as well," he replies smoothly, his voice laced with a hint of playfulness. "It seems you know my name and reputation, so you must be of good caliber as well," he continues, a hint of interest rising in his voice. You pause, unsure how to respond to his question. "Well, I've heard much about you from the servants, and it seems you've come to help us in these dark times. Thank you for your service, and I hope we can work together to bring peace and stability back to the kingdom," you reply. "I'm sure we can," Elrick said simply, his voice filled with conviction. "But first, would you like to join me for a drink?" he added, hand going to his side and procuring a flask. "I'm sure you have lot's of questions and besides the procession down there will take ages before they reach the castle! Flair and thearatics and all that!" he shakes the flask in the air. "Come! Let's get acquainted. What do you say?" You cannot help but admire his cheekiness and audacity as you weigh your options. Finally, you acquiesce. "I have time. But we chat here!" you say still doubting the intentions of this person. This persona and mystique. With a chuckle, Elrick nods he stands near the railings and you standing on a safe distance from him. "So what would you like to talk about, dear <<print $player_name>>?" he inquired, his voice filled with interest and intrigue. "I know you've heard a lot about me. What can I do to prove my identity and of my collegues as well?" You could barely contain your astonishment. His boldness seemed to know no bounds, and you couldn't help but marvel at his unwavering confidence. It was almost as if he had nothing to hide, and yet there was something else lurking beneath the surface. <<linkreplace "Tell me about your badge!">> The silence in the air was thick, almost suffocating, as you carefully considered your response. Time seemed to stand still as you weighed your words, the weight of uncertainty clinging to your voice. Finally, you spoke, your tone carrying a hint of trepidation, "Tell me about your shiny badge," you pointed to the gleaming gold emblem adorning his chest, catching the sunlight and casting a radiant glow. Elrick raised an eyebrow, his gaze flickering to where you were pointing. "My badge?" he repeated, curiosity lacing his words. "Well, I suppose it's no secret that I earned this badge as a member of the king's elite. As you already know, I am Elrick, The Watchful Eagle. It took years of rigorous training, unwavering dedication, and relentless study to attain this position." Your skepticism seeped through your words as you questioned, "Just like that?" Smirking, Elrick took a swig from his flask, a playful glint in his eye. "Well, what if I told you that when I was merely six years old, my mentor took me on a hunting expedition? It was on that day that I single-handedly brought down a mighty deer with my bow. But that's not all," he chuckled, relishing in the intrigue. "My mentor then made me deliver the final blow, plunging the killing blow into the quarry's stomach. From that moment on, my path was set, and the rest, as they say, is history!" Your jaw dropped in awe, the scene playing out in your mind's eye. Elrick's words painted a vivid picture of a young prodigy, destined for greatness. Yet, a lingering doubt tugged at your senses, cautioning you against accepting his tale at face value. He seemed too perfect, too untouchable, and this conversation, though engaging, did not warrant immediate confirmation. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Who's that woman with the swords?">> As your gaze wandered, it caught sight of a figure below, moving with an air of confidence. Her head held high, her hair a cascade of snow-white, and her cold blue eyes darting with a mix of distrust and paranoia. Dual swords were sheathed at her side, gleaming with a deadly aura. "Wait a minute," you exclaimed, your voice laced with intrigue. "Who is that woman down there?" Elrick shook his head, a wry grin playing on his lips. "Ah, you mean the woman with the short, pixie-cut white hair and the two swords," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of admiration. "That, my friend, is Luna, The Vicious Wolf. She is known far and wide for her ruthlessness and deadly prowess in battle. Her swords, honed to a razor-sharp edge, are ready to slice through flesh like butter." You stood there, your breath caught in your throat, utterly astounded by his words. "No, she looks like she's friendly!" you gasped, your eyes fixed on her as she growled menacingly at the man offering her a rose. The contradiction was unfathomable, and you couldn't help but question your own judgment. "Never judge a book by its cover," Elrick countered, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. His words hung in the air, laced with a touch of mystery. "I must admit, her appearance is deceiving with a beautiful face like that, but she's a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Her strength, speed, and agility are unmatched, and she uses them to her advantage. That's why she earned the name Vicious Wolf." You couldn't help but be intrigued by Elrick's words, your mind swimming with curiosity and a desire to know more. "I've heard stories about her mentor leaving her alone in the forest to fend for herself," he hesitated, trying to make sense of it all. "And she was only eight years old at the time! Can you believe it?" he murmurs. "All just by yourself in the dark, no one to help you, no one to offer you comfort its just you and the wilderness. Elrick shook his head, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I doubt she ever enjoyed her time with her mentor," he chuckled, a glimmer of admiration shining in his eyes. "She's a tough nut to crack, but don't let her strength or ferocity fool you. When she wants to, she can be as gentle as a lamb." The air around you seemed to shift, as if the weight of their experiences was pressing down on you. "Alright, be honest with me," you implored, your voice tinged with confusion. "Are your mentors... are they a bit crazy? What's with the extreme training at such a young age?" Elrick frowned, his brow furrowing as he contemplated your question. "I wouldn't go so far as to call them crazy," he responded, his voice tinged with defensiveness. "The training regimen may be dangerous and rigorous, but it's necessary. We need to develop the skills required for our roles in the royal court." "Why does the training have to be so harsh and life-threatening?" you pressed, your eyes locked with Elrick's. "It feels less like a demonstration of skill and more like a test of survival." A mischievous glint danced in Elrick's eyes, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I'll let you in on a little secret," he whispered, leaning in conspiratorially. "The king is searching for the best soldiers to watch over and safeguard his kingdom. Those of us who train and strive to become his elite guards are given the opportunity to prove ourselves worthy of the honor. It's not just about skill; it's about survival and dedication." Your protests grew stronger, your confusion deeper. "But do they really train the younglings to be as cruel and menacing as the others you mentioned? Can you clarify this for me? It seems like your mentor might be a bad influence." Elrick let out a weary sigh, his frustration evident in his voice. "My mentor wasn't a bad influence, per se," he explained, a tinge of sadness coloring his words. "He wanted to train me to be the best, pushing me to the limits of my endurance. He was like a father to me, even if his methods were unconventional. Our mentors are responsible for us, and their ways may seem crazy, but they are doing what they believe is necessary. We are their responsibility, and the thought of losing us is devastating to them." The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, casting a sense of solemnity over the scene. A shiver ran through you as the significance of his words sank in. These elite guards were not simply flamboyant heroes, prancing across the battlefields. They were human, with fears, hopes, and dreams, just like you. The realization struck you, sending shockwaves through your system. Unable to contain your curiosity, you voiced your thoughts, "So the mentors are, uh, training these younglings to serve the king by killing monsters and protecting people right?" Lowering his gaze, Elrick smiled sadly. "Well, it's a bit more complicated than that. The thing is that being a soldier can be a rather lonely and scary profession. It's not easy to fight against the monster and be scared of your own survival," he paused, the silence thick between you. "The monsters we're referring to may not always be the ones found in the deepest, darkest places of the world, and the battle we fight may be psychological." You shook your head, trying to comprehend his meaning. "So you're saying that the mentors are conditioning you, emotionally and psychologically, to be able to deal with the stress, fear, and trauma associated with fighting monsters or evil people?" Elrick nodded slowly, a mixture of empathy and sadness coloring his expression. "Yes, that's part of it. But it's not just about training for battle," he revealed, his voice softening with each word. "It's also about building relationships and creating a support system. When we're faced with the most terrifying and dangerous situations, we need someone to lean on." You frowned, his words tugging at something deep inside you. "Why would the king care about his elite guards developing mental and emotional resilience, though?" Amusement danced in Elrick's emerald eyes as he replied, "Because the king is not just a tyrant, or someone who's concerned solely with his own survival. He's a leader, a protector, and a visionary. He knows that his elite guards are the foundation upon which his kingdom rests." "Wow," you whispered, a sense of wonder creeping into your voice. "That's a profound sentiment, coming from an elite guard," you commented, a hint of sarcasm lacing your words. Chuckling softly, Elrick leaned back, a lazy grin playing on his lips. "Well, as I've said, it's a bit more complicated than what I've told you. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Is she throwing real...GOLD?!">> You heard the clinking of coins being tossed to the ground, even your eyes a blinded for a moment when you got hit by the reflection. "IS THAT REAL GOLD?" you ask surprised and rubbing your eyes. Elrick laughs and crossing his arms, leaning his weight into the railings of the balcony. "Yes its Gold, that will be my asscoiate and friend Serena, The Cunning Fox. The Cunning Fox emerges from the crowd, taking long confident strides. She did multiple flips in quick succession and jumping and twirling in the air before landing on a handstand to which the crowd erupts in a frenzy for her daring performance. "She's the thief of our motley group and can't help but show off her skill and talents every chance she gets. Another talent she possesses is seduction, which she uses to her advantage when she sneaks in and out of places to plunder. The more money she steals, the more reckless she becomes." The Cunning Fox pushed her body upwards and landing on her feet, then her head moves upward and lock eyes with you. "Oi Elrick! So there's where you been!" she shouts, yet her eyes not leaving you. Elrick waves to her "Hold your horses dear partner, I'm just accompanying this lovely stranger here and trying to win ?mctheir affections. Anyways, ?mcthey a pretty nosy one, ?mcthey hasn't taken ?mctheir eyes off me since we arrived." "Heh! Whatever you say Elrick just leave some of them for me!" Serena smiles at you, her red lips curving into a seductive smirk. The crowd gone quiet, following the gaze of Serena and then burst into cheers. "There's Elrick!" a girl screech like a banshee and some fainting because of the excitement. "What say ye Elrick that we gave these people a show!" she says and plucking out a dagger from her belt and twirling it in her fingers. "Can't help it can you Serena?" Elrick chuckles unslinging his bow from his back and drawing out arrows from his quiver. Then Serena threw the daggers in the air and Elrick quickly notched the arrow in his bow and fired. With precision and beauty, the knives fly through the air while the arrows hit their mark, the pointed tips aimed at the cold steel in a truly breathtaking display. "Isn't it glorious, darling?" she coos at you, winking too. The audience's reactions are nothing short of spectacular, with their oohs and ahs adding to the already amazing atmosphere, their amazement and awe spreading like a lovely perfume. Although the excitement was brief, Luna's quick thinking and agility were on full display as she leaped onto a passing carriage to retrieve the knives. "Enough with you two! Don't you know how dangerous that stunt was?" she said panicky. "She's always so uptight. Elegant and refined," Elrick rolled his eyes. "Oh for Pete's sake come on, show a little creativity!" Serena protested. "But it was a good show! Their showmanship was spot-on!" You agreed, applauding at the performance. "I enjoyed the show and would recommend you do it again next time. It was like watching a ballet." Serena leaned forward, her gaze locked on yours, "Oh darling, have we piqued your interest?" then she blew a kiss at your direction. Luna snap her head at you, glaring daggers. "So seeing these wonderful people get stabbed in the face by these falling daggers is a good show?" she ask sardonically. "Err. I don't mean it like that. They just looked very good up there, being skillful and showing off their talents," you tried to explain, your cheeks flushing a light pink. "Don't be too dazzled. These performers as they call themselves are experts at distraction and diversion. They're masters of misdirection, and you might wake up one day with your valuables missing," Luna shakes her head, a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of her mouth. "C'mon Looney, already busting me?" Serena laughs and jiggling a pouch of coin. Luna's eyes narrows at her. "You stole my...GOLD? And is that my purse of gems?!" her voice dripping with irritation. Serena clutches the pouch in her hand, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "It was a part of the act, like the good old days. No hard feelings, right? Besides look at these cute children who is grateful for your generosity!" she ruffles a girl on the head and pat a boy affectionately. Luna takes a few steps towards her, anger rising in her body, and she has to check herself as a realization strikes her. They're causing a scene, and it's not exactly wise to go full throttle in front of witnesses. "Be thankful there's children present!" she snatched her purse back from Serena. "You are going to owe me, and I swear I'm going to make you pay back every single coin you took from me." "Hey! Let's going the King and Queen will not be pleased that we already late on our first day of visit!" Elrick laughs. Luna, upon hearing his words, immediately urged the procession to move forward once more. On either side of her, Serena entertained the crowd with her impressive knife juggling act and acrobatics, keeping them thoroughly entertained. Meanwhile, you couldn't help but stare in wonder. You knew you would be in awe of their presence for weeks to come. The way they held themselves, with an air of confidence and power, was enchanting. Your eyes swept over them, taking in every detail, every nuance, trying to commit it all to memory. This was a moment you would never forget. "So last question <<print $player_name>> before we trail behind them!" Elrick laughs, slinging his bow behind his back and looking at you intently. "As you can see there's a huge crowd of people and we're not the center of attention anymore. So, what can you do for me?" You hesitated, caught off guard by his question. "Well, I'm afraid I'm not sure what you're asking." "Hmm," Elrick shrugged and shrugs himself. "Wouldn't hurt to try and flirt back right?" Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and you felt the heat rising in your body. You struggled to form a coherent thought, much less a sentence. However, something seemed to snap inside you, and without thinking, you blurted, "Don't flirt with me! There's no way I'll be charmed by the likes of you! I won't be tricked into handing my heart, or my virginity, to a man who doesn't care for anything but the thrill of the chase." A smile tugged at the corners of Elrick's lips, his emerald eyes glittering with mischief. "Well, well, what do we have here? Someone sounds a little jaded. Perhaps you've been scorned before? Tell me, darling, why not have a little faith?" Incensed, you glared at him, your anger flaring like a furnace, ready to burn with the slightest spark, yet you bit your tongue. "Tell me! Why the need to protect their Majesties palace? Are you keeping secrets?" Your gaze flickered towards the palace, taking in its grandeur, its ornate fixtures and luxurious surroundings. You couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation creeping into your consciousness. There was something ominous and foreboding about the scene unfolding before you, and you weren't quite sure why. It was as if there was an underlying threat lurking beneath the beauty and opulence. With a wry smile, Elrick replied, "Darling, it's not our place to know. It's simply our duty to protect and serve the King and Queen, as we've been entrusted with this mission by King Hendrick himself. We are the shield and sword that stands in the face of danger." As you watched the procession continue to weave its way through the streets, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story. It was as if there was a plot unfolding right in front of you, yet you were unable to grasp it. The pieces were scattered and shrouded, just beyond your reach, taunting you with their secrets. Narrowing your eyes, you took a deep breath and shook your head. "There's more to this story, Elrick. Something's not adding up," you insisted, your voice laced with a hint of desperation. "Stop with the cloak-and-dagger routine and tell me what's really going on! You're hiding something, and I want to know what it is." With a defeated sigh, Elrick leaned back against the railings and cast his eyes toward the sky. "Don't look at me, luv, I'm just a simple soldier obeying orders, no more and no less." "I call bull," you countered, watching his face for any hint of deception. His demeanor was still and composed, his emerald eyes alight with a mixture of frustration and amusement. "Very well, your agent Sarah told us of a phantom attacked you in the past yes!" he says, eyes turning serious. You nod, prompting him to continue. "Well King Richard and Queen Isobel fears that they might return to finish the job and they want us to stand guard and appease the people because nothing is much worse than a civil war happening inside the castle." "What do you mean?" you ask, as your eyes dart around nervously. "Well...I mean is that the people are wondering why the King and Queen are throwing their money and time into these elite guards who, mayhaps, aren't needed and are just a show of power. So they're getting antsy and tensions are rising," he explains, his lips curving into a pouty smile. "However it seems you my dear <<print $player_name>> and your gang got a mission of your own, a little trip to Riverside, so have I heard!" he quirks his eyebrow at you. "So the Chosen One being gone, accompanied by the Royal Princess and Protector not to mention the Dragoness leaving on the same day! Don't you think that might raise some suspicions on the populace?" he inquires. You take a deep breath and lean forward, eyeing Elrick intently. You couldn't believe the nerve of this man, accusing you of deceit and subterfuge. This was not how you'd expected the conversation to go. "It's none of your business what I'm doing and where I'm going," you huffed, annoyance coloring your tone. "If you're concerned about keeping the peace, then I suggest you focus on your duties and stop anaylyzing me." "Why?" Elrick chuckles. "Feeling exposed are we?" he asked playfully. You groaned. "Just don't look at me," you hissed through gritted teeth. "Believe me darling, I'm not interested in you," Elrick smirked, his gaze locked on yours. "Tough tiddy," you shot back, your cheeks flushing red you don't if its from offence or embaressment. "Sorry that's the truth, there's someone waiting for me back home and I want to win their heart before my team can win it first." Elrick answered honestly. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Were late and how are we gonna enter the throne room now!?">> You shake your head in disbelief. "Uh huh!" you muse but you decided not to pry any further. "So how are we getting into the throne room? you ask incredously at Elrick. "Getting bored of my company already?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement. "Don't worry, we'll be fine," he added, winking at you, the smile lines around his eyes crinkling as he grinned. You watched him tuck his flask back into his belt, a playful glint in his eyes. "How about... We should try walking into the throne room!" he announced, his voice filled with excitement. He runs a hand through his hair, his confident stride matching the swagger in his voice. "But the doors will be closed, and no matter how loud we knock, we can't be heard from the inside!" you reasoned, trying to bring some logic into his impulsive plan. Elrick stood to his full height, stretching his arms and twisting his torso. "You know I'm the tracker in our group, and one of the requirements of a tracker is that your body needs to be agile and flexible," he boasted, puffing out his chest and clenching his fists dramatically. "Let's just say my muscles are always ready to make things happen," he declared with a smirk. Rolling your eyes, you muttered, "Wow! Elrick is such a show-off!" His confidence sometimes bordered on arrogance, and you couldn't help but find it a little irritating. "It's all about having confidence in yourself, darling," Elrick sauntered towards the railings and swung his leg over it. "You gotta look good while doing it," he added, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Besides, there are other ways to the throne room if we're not going through the traditional means," he continued, his eyes glinting with mischief. Suddenly, his body pushed itself off the railings, and he gracefully soared through the air, twisting before landing onto the next lower roof. "There you go!" he shouted out to you, glancing back to see your shocked expression. "Wait... You're crazy!" you screeched at him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Gotta move quickly before you fall behind. Let's just get to the palace already!" Elrick called back, a carefree grin spread across his features. You hesitated, torn between caution and the desire for adventure. But in that moment, you decided to throw caution to the wind. Wrapping your hands tightly around the railing, you jumped onto the next lower roof, ignoring the voice of reason in your head. "Here!" Elrick moved closer below your landing point. "I will catch you, luv!" he said, his arms stretched out, ready to break your fall. "Really?! I doubt you're strong enough to catch me from such a long drop. It's way too risky!" you called back, your voice filled with uncertainty and doubt. "No worries, <<print $player_name>>! I've caught much bigger people and even dangerous wild animals. You're not too heavy," Elrick reassured you with unwavering confidence. "Alright, if you say so," you replied, still unsure of his strength. "But if you drop me, I swear..." Elrick cut you off, a playful glint in his eyes. "Don't worry, just focus on landing without breaking a leg or fracturing something," he teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for the jump. A gust of wind swept by, knocking you off balance, but you regained control just in time. With a scream of terror, you leaped, your body weightless as you reached out for Elrick. Time seemed to slow down as your hands met his outstretched ones, and for a moment, you felt like you were flying. The impact of your landing jolted your body, causing you to cry out in pain as you fell into his firm, yet not-so-soft, arms. "There you go!" Elrick grinned, his arms wrapped around your body protectively. "I've got you," he said, his green eyes locking with yours. "You think so?" you gasped, a mixture of fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins. "Come on, let's get out of here before they start without us," he suggested, motioning towards the next rooftop. As you stood up, you couldn't help but admire Elrick's strength and grace. He moved with an ease and confidence that left you in awe. You envied his ability to stay calm in the face of danger and wondered how he maintained such a relaxed demeanor. As you approached the edge of the building, the distant sound of rushing water reached your ears. "Is that the canal?" you asked, your mind whirling with possibilities. "It is! We have to swim downstream to enter the palace's secret passage!" Elrick proclaimed with glee. "We? But I didn't bring my swimming gear!" you protested, panic rising in your chest. Elrick simply smiled, his emerald eyes gleaming with mischief. "We'll manage. Besides, think of it as a quick shower," he quipped. "Plus I do want to see how good you look in wet!" he wiggles his eyebrows. "First off creepy and treat me to dinner first! Second! How do you even know these things?" you questioned him, your curiosity piqued and your nostrils flaring at his advances . Elrick rotated his neck, stretching it. "It's my job to know, and it's my job to know my environment," he replied cryptically. Then, he put his hands together and hunched low, preparing to dive. "You do know how to swim, right?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice. You bristled, refusing to answer his question. "Well, I'm not that stupid to not know how to swim," you retorted, annoyed at his implication. "Okay then, jump after me and don't hesitate, or you might slip, hit your head, or drown," he advised, winking at you. Before you could respond, he cannonballed into the water, creating a splash that sent ripples in every direction. A few seconds later, he resurfaced, his eyes locked onto yours, his gaze piercing and filled with determination. "If you're worried about drowning, don't worry. I know mouth-to-mouth," he says cheekily, his lips glistening as he ran his tongue over them. You couldn't help but throw your head back and laugh. "Not on your life, luv! You're not touching my mouth," you shouted down at him, a mixture of amusement and exasperation in your voice. "What a pity, but suit yourself, I guess," he mused, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. Elrick kept his eyes fixed on you as you slowly descended the steps, your hands grasping the cool stone. The anticipation and fear mingled within you, creating a swirling storm of emotions. But you knew you had to push through. The coldness of the water enveloped you as you jumped, sending chills up your arms and legs. You refused to let it show, determined to match Elrick's confidence. As you resurfaced, you noticed him eyeing you with a smile. "Nice landing, luv," he grinned, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "Thanks," you muttered, trying to hide the warmth that rose in your cheeks. The two of you silently swam against the current, your muscles growing weary from the exertion. After what felt like hours, you finally reached a place where a passageway led in three different directions. "Great, where to now?" you groaned, your body aching from the effort. Elrick remained quiet, kneeling down and touching the cool floor. "Judging by these disturbances, the wet splashes, the foot traffic as evidenced by the footprints, and the lack of cobwebs on the ceilings, it means we have to take the left path," he deduced, his voice serious and confident. You stared at Elrick incredulously. "Are you kidding me? Do you really expect me to trust your plan when you're basing it off random splashes and footprints?" you screeched, your frustration seeping into your tone. Elrick looked at you, his face straight and serious. "Trust me on this," he insisted, motioning for you to follow him. You let out a sigh of exasperation, not fully convinced but willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Reluctantly, you trailed behind him, your mind filled with doubts but also a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he knew what he was doing. ''//(AN: So with Elrick and your MC is having the journey of their lives let's get a look on what's happening on the throne room on the POV of Lee. Afterall, I'm sure your curious to how he's coping up with Garett finally waking up after all this time!)//'' <</linkreplace>> [[Next|Inside The Castle]]

With a confident smile, you eagerly flipped over the cards on the third deck, your gaze fixating on the ominous card that lay before you. "The Ten of Swords."N's voice trembled with a hint of worry as he spoke, his words sounding small against the weight of the card. Your face dropped, the worst-case scenario suddenly becoming a reality. The card features a man lying face-down and with ten swords in his back. "This card," N began cautiously, his voice filled with concern, "usually signifies traumatic situations and daunting challenges. It warns of a past that threatens to consume you, draining you of hope and energy. Though you may feel abandoned and hopeless, it also serves as a reminder to forge ahead and confront your fears. Perhaps it is a sign that you have become trapped in a negative cycle, urging you to make a change, no matter how arduous it may be." N clapped their hands together, their eyes urging you to flip the next card, hoping for a more favorable outcome. You hesitantly nodded in response, your expression hardening as you prepared for the next revelation. Uncertainty hung in the air as you turned over the card, only to be met with a sight far more dreaded than the last. "Death!" N's voice rang out grimly. "The Death card," he explained, his tone heavy with foreboding the card features a hooded skeleton figure riding a pale horse with a scythe in hand, "Is a fearful omen of massive change in your life. It signifies the crumbling away of old habits and beliefs, making way for something new. However, the card also suggests that the transformation may require courage and action on your part, as you release any lingering regrets, guilt, or blame. It warns that further disaster may be yet to come." Your stomach churned at N's words, your skin prickling with goosebumps as the weight of the cards settled upon you. Sensing your unease, N spoke up, attempting to alleviate your anxiety. "Remember, each flip is separate," they reassured, shrugging casually. "Don't dwell too much on what lies ahead. Besides, sometimes Death can be a catalyst for positive change, allowing you to find strength in letting go and finding peace. Good things can arise from the most unexpected of circumstances, so hold onto that possibility! That's why we shouldn't let these cards discourage us, alright?" You offered a cautious nod, reluctantly acquiescing to N's words of comfort. Pushing aside thoughts of potential consequences, you refused to dwell on the overwhelming nature of the cards. "Well, it seems my luck is truly terrible, huh?" you laughed bitterly, your voice laced with a tinge of resignation and disappointment. N shook their head emphatically. "Fret not, <<print $player_name>>," they reassured, their voice soothing. "The cards may reveal your fate, but it is important not to overly rely on them. Think of them as advice or warnings, guiding you towards a path of self-discovery. Thank you, N!" you exclaimed gratefully, watching as N carefully gathered the cards and returned them to their ornate box. The lid closed with a soft click, bringing a sense of finality to the unsettling experience. "My pleasure!" N exclaimed, their voice filled with a sense of mystery and intrigue, as they concealed the box behind their flowing cape. With a swift motion, the box vanished from sight, disappearing into the depths of N's mysterious attire. The air crackled with anticipation as you gazed at the spot where the box once lay, a sense of wonder and curiosity filling your heart. "Now that you have discovered a piece of your truth," N's voice echoed in your ears, their words dripping with wisdom and guidance, "take this knowledge and use it well. Live true to yourself, and don't be afraid to face your fears and doubts." The weight of their words settled upon you, igniting a renewed sense of determination that coursed through your veins. With a deep breath, you lifted your gaze towards the heavens, the warmth of the sun's rays enveloping your face in a gentle embrace. The sky stretched out before you, an infinite canvas of possibilities. Your eyes scanned the expanse, searching for answers, for a sign of what lay ahead. "I'm ready for the next step," you declared, your voice filled with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. However, when you turned to your side, expecting to find N standing there, they were nowhere to be found. Panic surged through your chest as your eyes darted around, desperately seeking any trace of their presence. "N?" you called out, your voice reverberating across the silent balcony. "Are you still there?" Silence greeted your call, only broken by the soft rustling of wind that whispered through the gaps in the balcony's iron bars. Your heart sank as you realized N had disappeared, leaving behind only the remnants of their words and presence. A small card lay on the ground, a lone artifact in the wake of their departure. With trembling hands, you reached down and picked it up, studying its intricate design. The card depicted a radiant sun, its golden rays cascading outward in a vibrant halo. It emanated warmth and light, a symbol of hope and guidance. Memories of N's analytical insights flickered through your mind, intermingling with a surge of comfort and courage that enveloped your being. A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you silently thanked N for their invaluable guidance. "Thank you, N," you murmured, clutching the card tightly against your chest. "I'm ready for whatever challenges may lie ahead." With renewed resolve, you stepped off the balcony, feeling the lingering touch of N's presence on your skin, like a fleeting whisper. Their profound insights had ignited a flame within you, propelling you forward with a sense of purpose and determination. Suddenly, the blast of a trumpet shattered the air, its resounding notes piercing through the atmosphere. One... two... three... The consecutive blasts of the trumpet signaled an imminent arrival. "Open the gates!" a guard's voice boomed, commanding the gears to turn and the bridge to lower. "The Assets have arrived!" you exclaimed, a surge of excitement coursing through your veins. Cheers, woohoos, and an infectious wave of anticipation filled the air as you observed the procession from above. You had never seen anything like this before, so many sights, sounds, and smells flooding your senses at once. The sight of the King's Elite alone was enough to fill the crowd with exhilaration. And this was just the beginning. You stand at the edge of the balcony, your heart pounding in your chest, as you gaze down at the vast procession that winds its way through the streets below. The air is thick with anticipation. The crowd is a sea of colors and faces, a kaleidoscope of emotions and whispered conversations. You can't help but gasp at the sight before you, a mixture of awe and fear coursing through your veins. "They're almost upon us now," you gasp, barely able to find your voice as you watch the procession draw nearer. The sound of your own words seems to get lost in the chaos below, swallowed by the sea of noise and excitement. You turn your head, searching for someone to share your joy with, but find only empty space. Just as you start to wonder if you're alone in your thoughts, a voice, soft and mysterious, whispers in your ear. "Just wait until they've settled in the royal palace," it says, sending a shiver down your spine. You spin around, startled by the sudden presence of a man standing beside you. His emerald eyes twinkle mischievously, and his lips curl into a cocky grin as he takes in your startled expression. Dressed in a green tunic, a quiver at his side and a bow strapped to his back, the man exudes an air of adventure and danger. His medium brown hair falls gracefully to his ears, framing his distinctive features. A well-groomed beard adds a touch of ruggedness to his appearance. But it's his eyes that captivate you, holding a hint of mystery and wonder, as if he's seen things that defy imagination. "Wait, I know you!" you exclaim, your memory suddenly jolting into action. "We met at the bar!" Recognition floods your mind as you recall those emerald eyes, burning with a fierce intensity. The man's lips curve into a smirk as he nods, confirming your memory. "Ahhh! I'm touched!" the man bows his head mockingly. "The name is Elrick...Elrick Graves!" he declares, raising his head and winking at you. You gasp in surprise, your eyes widening at the revelation. "Elrick, The Watchful Eagle??" you whisper, unable to contain your amazement. Elrick tilts his head, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Yes, I'm pleased to meet you as well," he replies smoothly, his voice laced with a hint of playfulness. "It seems you know my name and reputation, so you must be of good caliber as well," he continues, a hint of interest rising in his voice. You pause, unsure how to respond to his question. "Well, I've heard much about you from the servants, and it seems you've come to help us in these dark times. Thank you for your service, and I hope we can work together to bring peace and stability back to the kingdom," you reply. "I'm sure we can," Elrick said simply, his voice filled with conviction. "But first, would you like to join me for a drink?" he added, hand going to his side and procuring a flask. "I'm sure you have lot's of questions and besides the procession down there will take ages before they reach the castle! Flair and thearatics and all that!" he shakes the flask in the air. "Come! Let's get acquainted. What do you say?" You cannot help but admire his cheekiness and audacity as you weigh your options. Finally, you acquiesce. "I have time. But we chat here!" you say still doubting the intentions of this person. This persona and mystique. With a chuckle, Elrick nods he stands near the railings and you standing on a safe distance from him. "So what would you like to talk about, dear <<print $player_name>>?" he inquired, his voice filled with interest and intrigue. "I know you've heard a lot about me. What can I do to prove my identity and of my collegues as well?" You could barely contain your astonishment. His boldness seemed to know no bounds, and you couldn't help but marvel at his unwavering confidence. It was almost as if he had nothing to hide, and yet there was something else lurking beneath the surface. <<linkreplace "Tell me about your badge!">> The silence in the air was thick, almost suffocating, as you carefully considered your response. Time seemed to stand still as you weighed your words, the weight of uncertainty clinging to your voice. Finally, you spoke, your tone carrying a hint of trepidation, "Tell me about your shiny badge," you pointed to the gleaming gold emblem adorning his chest, catching the sunlight and casting a radiant glow. Elrick raised an eyebrow, his gaze flickering to where you were pointing. "My badge?" he repeated, curiosity lacing his words. "Well, I suppose it's no secret that I earned this badge as a member of the king's elite. As you already know, I am Elrick, The Watchful Eagle. It took years of rigorous training, unwavering dedication, and relentless study to attain this position." Your skepticism seeped through your words as you questioned, "Just like that?" Smirking, Elrick took a swig from his flask, a playful glint in his eye. "Well, what if I told you that when I was merely six years old, my mentor took me on a hunting expedition? It was on that day that I single-handedly brought down a mighty deer with my bow. But that's not all," he chuckled, relishing in the intrigue. "My mentor then made me deliver the final blow, plunging the killing blow into the quarry's stomach. From that moment on, my path was set, and the rest, as they say, is history!" Your jaw dropped in awe, the scene playing out in your mind's eye. Elrick's words painted a vivid picture of a young prodigy, destined for greatness. Yet, a lingering doubt tugged at your senses, cautioning you against accepting his tale at face value. He seemed too perfect, too untouchable, and this conversation, though engaging, did not warrant immediate confirmation. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Who's that woman with the swords?">> As your gaze wandered, it caught sight of a figure below, moving with an air of confidence. Her head held high, her hair a cascade of snow-white, and her cold blue eyes darting with a mix of distrust and paranoia. Dual swords were sheathed at her side, gleaming with a deadly aura. "Wait a minute," you exclaimed, your voice laced with intrigue. "Who is that woman down there?" Elrick shook his head, a wry grin playing on his lips. "Ah, you mean the woman with the short, pixie-cut white hair and the two swords," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of admiration. "That, my friend, is Luna, The Vicious Wolf. She is known far and wide for her ruthlessness and deadly prowess in battle. Her swords, honed to a razor-sharp edge, are ready to slice through flesh like butter." You stood there, your breath caught in your throat, utterly astounded by his words. "No, she looks like she's friendly!" you gasped, your eyes fixed on her as she growled menacingly at the man offering her a rose. The contradiction was unfathomable, and you couldn't help but question your own judgment. "Never judge a book by its cover," Elrick countered, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. His words hung in the air, laced with a touch of mystery. "I must admit, her appearance is deceiving with a beautiful face like that, but she's a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Her strength, speed, and agility are unmatched, and she uses them to her advantage. That's why she earned the name Vicious Wolf." You couldn't help but be intrigued by Elrick's words, your mind swimming with curiosity and a desire to know more. "I've heard stories about her mentor leaving her alone in the forest to fend for herself," he hesitated, trying to make sense of it all. "And she was only eight years old at the time! Can you believe it?" he murmurs. "All just by yourself in the dark, no one to help you, no one to offer you comfort its just you and the wilderness. Elrick shook his head, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I doubt she ever enjoyed her time with her mentor," he chuckled, a glimmer of admiration shining in his eyes. "She's a tough nut to crack, but don't let her strength or ferocity fool you. When she wants to, she can be as gentle as a lamb." The air around you seemed to shift, as if the weight of their experiences was pressing down on you. "Alright, be honest with me," you implored, your voice tinged with confusion. "Are your mentors... are they a bit crazy? What's with the extreme training at such a young age?" Elrick frowned, his brow furrowing as he contemplated your question. "I wouldn't go so far as to call them crazy," he responded, his voice tinged with defensiveness. "The training regimen may be dangerous and rigorous, but it's necessary. We need to develop the skills required for our roles in the royal court." "Why does the training have to be so harsh and life-threatening?" you pressed, your eyes locked with Elrick's. "It feels less like a demonstration of skill and more like a test of survival." A mischievous glint danced in Elrick's eyes, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I'll let you in on a little secret," he whispered, leaning in conspiratorially. "The king is searching for the best soldiers to watch over and safeguard his kingdom. Those of us who train and strive to become his elite guards are given the opportunity to prove ourselves worthy of the honor. It's not just about skill; it's about survival and dedication." Your protests grew stronger, your confusion deeper. "But do they really train the younglings to be as cruel and menacing as the others you mentioned? Can you clarify this for me? It seems like your mentor might be a bad influence." Elrick let out a weary sigh, his frustration evident in his voice. "My mentor wasn't a bad influence, per se," he explained, a tinge of sadness coloring his words. "He wanted to train me to be the best, pushing me to the limits of my endurance. He was like a father to me, even if his methods were unconventional. Our mentors are responsible for us, and their ways may seem crazy, but they are doing what they believe is necessary. We are their responsibility, and the thought of losing us is devastating to them." The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, casting a sense of solemnity over the scene. A shiver ran through you as the significance of his words sank in. These elite guards were not simply flamboyant heroes, prancing across the battlefields. They were human, with fears, hopes, and dreams, just like you. The realization struck you, sending shockwaves through your system. Unable to contain your curiosity, you voiced your thoughts, "So the mentors are, uh, training these younglings to serve the king by killing monsters and protecting people right?" Lowering his gaze, Elrick smiled sadly. "Well, it's a bit more complicated than that. The thing is that being a soldier can be a rather lonely and scary profession. It's not easy to fight against the monster and be scared of your own survival," he paused, the silence thick between you. "The monsters we're referring to may not always be the ones found in the deepest, darkest places of the world, and the battle we fight may be psychological." You shook your head, trying to comprehend his meaning. "So you're saying that the mentors are conditioning you, emotionally and psychologically, to be able to deal with the stress, fear, and trauma associated with fighting monsters or evil people?" Elrick nodded slowly, a mixture of empathy and sadness coloring his expression. "Yes, that's part of it. But it's not just about training for battle," he revealed, his voice softening with each word. "It's also about building relationships and creating a support system. When we're faced with the most terrifying and dangerous situations, we need someone to lean on." You frowned, his words tugging at something deep inside you. "Why would the king care about his elite guards developing mental and emotional resilience, though?" Amusement danced in Elrick's emerald eyes as he replied, "Because the king is not just a tyrant, or someone who's concerned solely with his own survival. He's a leader, a protector, and a visionary. He knows that his elite guards are the foundation upon which his kingdom rests." "Wow," you whispered, a sense of wonder creeping into your voice. "That's a profound sentiment, coming from an elite guard," you commented, a hint of sarcasm lacing your words. Chuckling softly, Elrick leaned back, a lazy grin playing on his lips. "Well, as I've said, it's a bit more complicated than what I've told you. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Is she throwing real...GOLD?!">> You heard the clinking of coins being tossed to the ground, even your eyes a blinded for a moment when you got hit by the reflection. "IS THAT REAL GOLD?" you ask surprised and rubbing your eyes. Elrick laughs and crossing his arms, leaning his weight into the railings of the balcony. "Yes its Gold, that will be my asscoiate and friend Serena, The Cunning Fox. The Cunning Fox emerges from the crowd, taking long confident strides. She did multiple flips in quick succession and jumping and twirling in the air before landing on a handstand to which the crowd erupts in a frenzy for her daring performance. "She's the thief of our motley group and can't help but show off her skill and talents every chance she gets. Another talent she possesses is seduction, which she uses to her advantage when she sneaks in and out of places to plunder. The more money she steals, the more reckless she becomes." The Cunning Fox pushed her body upwards and landing on her feet, then her head moves upward and lock eyes with you. "Oi Elrick! So there's where you been!" she shouts, yet her eyes not leaving you. Elrick waves to her "Hold your horses dear partner, I'm just accompanying this lovely stranger here and trying to win ?mctheir affections. Anyways, ?mcthey a pretty nosy one, they hasn't taken ?mctheir eyes off me since we arrived." "Heh! Whatever you say Elrick just leave some of them for me!" Serena smiles at you, her red lips curving into a seductive smirk. The crowd gone quiet, following the gaze of Serena and then burst into cheers. "There's Elrick!" a girl screech like a banshee and some fainting because of the excitement. "What say ye Elrick that we gave these people a show!" she says and plucking out a dagger from her belt and twirling it in her fingers. "Can't help it can you Serena?" Elrick chuckles unslinging his bow from his back and drawing out arrows from his quiver. Then Serena threw the daggers in the air and Elrick quickly notched the arrow in his bow and fired. With precision and beauty, the knives fly through the air while the arrows hit their mark, the pointed tips aimed at the cold steel in a truly breathtaking display. "Isn't it glorious, darling?" she coos at you, winking too. The audience's reactions are nothing short of spectacular, with their oohs and ahs adding to the already amazing atmosphere, their amazement and awe spreading like a lovely perfume. Although the excitement was brief, Luna's quick thinking and agility were on full display as she leaped onto a passing carriage to retrieve the knives. "Enough with you two! Don't you know how dangerous that stunt was?" she said panicky. "She's always so uptight. Elegant and refined," Elrick rolled his eyes. "Oh for Pete's sake come on, show a little creativity!" Serena protested. "But it was a good show! Their showmanship was spot-on!" You agreed, applauding at the performance. "I enjoyed the show and would recommend you do it again next time. It was like watching a ballet." Serena leaned forward, her gaze locked on yours, "Oh darling, have we piqued your interest?" then she blew a kiss at your direction. Luna snap her head at you, glaring daggers. "So seeing these wonderful people get stabbed in the face by these falling daggers is a good show?" she ask sardonically. "Err. I don't mean it like that. They just looked very good up there, being skillful and showing off their talents," you tried to explain, your cheeks flushing a light pink. "Don't be too dazzled. These performers as they call themselves are experts at distraction and diversion. They're masters of misdirection, and you might wake up one day with your valuables missing," Luna shakes her head, a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of her mouth. "C'mon Looney, already busting me?" Serena laughs and jiggling a pouch of coin. Luna's eyes narrows at her. "You stole my...GOLD? And is that my purse of gems?!" her voice dripping with irritation. Serena clutches the pouch in her hand, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "It was a part of the act, like the good old days. No hard feelings, right? Besides look at these cute children who is grateful for your generosity!" she ruffles a girl on the head and pat a boy affectionately. Luna takes a few steps towards her, anger rising in her body, and she has to check herself as a realization strikes her. They're causing a scene, and it's not exactly wise to go full throttle in front of witnesses. "Be thankful there's children present!" she snatched her purse back from Serena. "You are going to owe me, and I swear I'm going to make you pay back every single coin you took from me." "Hey! Let's going the King and Queen will not be pleased that we already late on our first day of visit!" Elrick laughs. Luna, upon hearing his words, immediately urged the procession to move forward once more. On either side of her, Serena entertained the crowd with her impressive knife juggling act and acrobatics, keeping them thoroughly entertained. Meanwhile, you couldn't help but stare in wonder. You knew you would be in awe of their presence for weeks to come. The way they held themselves, with an air of confidence and power, was enchanting. Your eyes swept over them, taking in every detail, every nuance, trying to commit it all to memory. This was a moment you would never forget. "So last question <<print $player_name>> before we trail behind them!" Elrick laughs, slinging his bow behind his back and looking at you intently. "As you can see there's a huge crowd of people and we're not the center of attention anymore. So, what can you do for me?" You hesitated, caught off guard by his question. "Well, I'm afraid I'm not sure what you're asking." "Hmm," Elrick shrugged and shrugs himself. "Wouldn't hurt to try and flirt back right?" Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and you felt the heat rising in your body. You struggled to form a coherent thought, much less a sentence. However, something seemed to snap inside you, and without thinking, you blurted, "Don't flirt with me! There's no way I'll be charmed by the likes of you! I won't be tricked into handing my heart, or my virginity, to a man who doesn't care for anything but the thrill of the chase." A smile tugged at the corners of Elrick's lips, his emerald eyes glittering with mischief. "Well, well, what do we have here? Someone sounds a little jaded. Perhaps you've been scorned before? Tell me, darling, why not have a little faith?" Incensed, you glared at him, your anger flaring like a furnace, ready to burn with the slightest spark, yet you bit your tongue. "Tell me! Why the need to protect their Majesties palace? Are you keeping secrets?" Your gaze flickered towards the palace, taking in its grandeur, its ornate fixtures and luxurious surroundings. You couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation creeping into your consciousness. There was something ominous and foreboding about the scene unfolding before you, and you weren't quite sure why. It was as if there was an underlying threat lurking beneath the beauty and opulence. With a wry smile, Elrick replied, "Darling, it's not our place to know. It's simply our duty to protect and serve the King and Queen, as we've been entrusted with this mission by King Hendrick himself. We are the shield and sword that stands in the face of danger." As you watched the procession continue to weave its way through the streets, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story. It was as if there was a plot unfolding right in front of you, yet you were unable to grasp it. The pieces were scattered and shrouded, just beyond your reach, taunting you with their secrets. Narrowing your eyes, you took a deep breath and shook your head. "There's more to this story, Elrick. Something's not adding up," you insisted, your voice laced with a hint of desperation. "Stop with the cloak-and-dagger routine and tell me what's really going on! You're hiding something, and I want to know what it is." With a defeated sigh, Elrick leaned back against the railings and cast his eyes toward the sky. "Don't look at me, luv, I'm just a simple soldier obeying orders, no more and no less." "I call bull," you countered, watching his face for any hint of deception. His demeanor was still and composed, his emerald eyes alight with a mixture of frustration and amusement. "Very well, your agent Sarah told us of a phantom attacked you in the past yes!" he says, eyes turning serious. You nod, prompting him to continue. "Well King Richard and Queen Isobel fears that they might return to finish the job and they want us to stand guard and appease the people because nothing is much worse than a civil war happening inside the castle." "What do you mean?" you ask, as your eyes dart around nervously. "Well...I mean is that the people are wondering why the King and Queen are throwing their money and time into these elite guards who, mayhaps, aren't needed and are just a show of power. So they're getting antsy and tensions are rising," he explains, his lips curving into a pouty smile. "However it seems you my dear <<print $player_name>> and your gang got a mission of your own, a little trip to Riverside, so have I heard!" he quirks his eyebrow at you. "So the Chosen One being gone, accompanied by the Royal Princess and Protector not to mention the Dragoness leaving on the same day! Don't you think that might raise some suspicions on the populace?" he inquires. You take a deep breath and lean forward, eyeing Elrick intently. You couldn't believe the nerve of this man, accusing you of deceit and subterfuge. This was not how you'd expected the conversation to go. "It's none of your business what I'm doing and where I'm going," you huffed, annoyance coloring your tone. "If you're concerned about keeping the peace, then I suggest you focus on your duties and stop anaylyzing me." "Why?" Elrick chuckles. "Feeling exposed are we?" he asked playfully. You groaned. "Just don't look at me," you hissed through gritted teeth. "Believe me darling, I'm not interested in you," Elrick smirked, his gaze locked on yours. "Tough tiddy," you shot back, your cheeks flushing red you don't if its from offence or embaressment. "Sorry that's the truth, there's someone waiting for me back home and I want to win their heart before my team can win it first." Elrick answered honestly. <</linkreplace>> <<linkreplace "Were late and how are we gonna enter the throne room now!?">> You shake your head in disbelief. "Uh huh!" you muse but you decided not to pry any further. "So how are we getting into the throne room? you ask incredously at Elrick. "Getting bored of my company already?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement. "Don't worry, we'll be fine," he added, winking at you, the smile lines around his eyes crinkling as he grinned. You watched him tuck his flask back into his belt, a playful glint in his eyes. "How about... We should try walking into the throne room!" he announced, his voice filled with excitement. He runs a hand through his hair, his confident stride matching the swagger in his voice. "But the doors will be closed, and no matter how loud we knock, we can't be heard from the inside!" you reasoned, trying to bring some logic into his impulsive plan. Elrick stood to his full height, stretching his arms and twisting his torso. "You know I'm the tracker in our group, and one of the requirements of a tracker is that your body needs to be agile and flexible," he boasted, puffing out his chest and clenching his fists dramatically. "Let's just say my muscles are always ready to make things happen," he declared with a smirk. Rolling your eyes, you muttered, "Wow! Elrick is such a show-off!" His confidence sometimes bordered on arrogance, and you couldn't help but find it a little irritating. "It's all about having confidence in yourself, darling," Elrick sauntered towards the railings and swung his leg over it. "You gotta look good while doing it," he added, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Besides, there are other ways to the throne room if we're not going through the traditional means," he continued, his eyes glinting with mischief. Suddenly, his body pushed itself off the railings, and he gracefully soared through the air, twisting before landing onto the next lower roof. "There you go!" he shouted out to you, glancing back to see your shocked expression. "Wait... You're crazy!" you screeched at him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Gotta move quickly before you fall behind. Let's just get to the palace already!" Elrick called back, a carefree grin spread across his features. You hesitated, torn between caution and the desire for adventure. But in that moment, you decided to throw caution to the wind. Wrapping your hands tightly around the railing, you jumped onto the next lower roof, ignoring the voice of reason in your head. "Here!" Elrick moved closer below your landing point. "I will catch you, luv!" he said, his arms stretched out, ready to break your fall. "Really?! I doubt you're strong enough to catch me from such a long drop. It's way too risky!" you called back, your voice filled with uncertainty and doubt. "No worries, <<print $player_name>>! I've caught much bigger people and even dangerous wild animals. You're not too heavy," Elrick reassured you with unwavering confidence. "Alright, if you say so," you replied, still unsure of his strength. "But if you drop me, I swear..." Elrick cut you off, a playful glint in his eyes. "Don't worry, just focus on landing without breaking a leg or fracturing something," he teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for the jump. A gust of wind swept by, knocking you off balance, but you regained control just in time. With a scream of terror, you leaped, your body weightless as you reached out for Elrick. Time seemed to slow down as your hands met his outstretched ones, and for a moment, you felt like you were flying. The impact of your landing jolted your body, causing you to cry out in pain as you fell into his firm, yet not-so-soft, arms. "There you go!" Elrick grinned, his arms wrapped around your body protectively. "I've got you," he said, his green eyes locking with yours. "You think so?" you gasped, a mixture of fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins. "Come on, let's get out of here before they start without us," he suggested, motioning towards the next rooftop. As you stood up, you couldn't help but admire Elrick's strength and grace. He moved with an ease and confidence that left you in awe. You envied his ability to stay calm in the face of danger and wondered how he maintained such a relaxed demeanor. As you approached the edge of the building, the distant sound of rushing water reached your ears. "Is that the canal?" you asked, your mind whirling with possibilities. "It is! We have to swim downstream to enter the palace's secret passage!" Elrick proclaimed with glee. "We? But I didn't bring my swimming gear!" you protested, panic rising in your chest. Elrick simply smiled, his emerald eyes gleaming with mischief. "We'll manage. Besides, think of it as a quick shower," he quipped. "Plus I do want to see how good you look in wet!" he wiggles his eyebrows. "First off creepy and treat me to dinner first! Second! How do you even know these things?" you questioned him, your curiosity piqued and your nostrils flaring at his advances . Elrick rotated his neck, stretching it. "It's my job to know, and it's my job to know my environment," he replied cryptically. Then, he put his hands together and hunched low, preparing to dive. "You do know how to swim, right?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice. You bristled, refusing to answer his question. "Well, I'm not that stupid to not know how to swim," you retorted, annoyed at his implication. "Okay then, jump after me and don't hesitate, or you might slip, hit your head, or drown," he advised, winking at you. Before you could respond, he cannonballed into the water, creating a splash that sent ripples in every direction. A few seconds later, he resurfaced, his eyes locked onto yours, his gaze piercing and filled with determination. "If you're worried about drowning, don't worry. I know mouth-to-mouth," he says cheekily, his lips glistening as he ran his tongue over them. You couldn't help but throw your head back and laugh. "Not on your life, luv! You're not touching my mouth," you shouted down at him, a mixture of amusement and exasperation in your voice. "What a pity, but suit yourself, I guess," he mused, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. Elrick kept his eyes fixed on you as you slowly descended the steps, your hands grasping the cool stone. The anticipation and fear mingled within you, creating a swirling storm of emotions. But you knew you had to push through. The coldness of the water enveloped you as you jumped, sending chills up your arms and legs. You refused to let it show, determined to match Elrick's confidence. As you resurfaced, you noticed him eyeing you with a smile. "Nice landing, luv," he grinned, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "Thanks," you muttered, trying to hide the warmth that rose in your cheeks. The two of you silently swam against the current, your muscles growing weary from the exertion. After what felt like hours, you finally reached a place where a passageway led in three different directions. "Great, where to now?" you groaned, your body aching from the effort. Elrick remained quiet, kneeling down and touching the cool floor. "Judging by these disturbances, the wet splashes, the foot traffic as evidenced by the footprints, and the lack of cobwebs on the ceilings, it means we have to take the left path," he deduced, his voice serious and confident. You stared at Elrick incredulously. "Are you kidding me? Do you really expect me to trust your plan when you're basing it off random splashes and footprints?" you screeched, your frustration seeping into your tone. Elrick looked at you, his face straight and serious. "Trust me on this," he insisted, motioning for you to follow him. You let out a sigh of exasperation, not fully convinced but willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Reluctantly, you trailed behind him, your mind filled with doubts but also a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he knew what he was doing. ''//(AN: So with Elrick and your MC is having the journey of their lives let's get a look on what's happening on the throne room on the POV of Lee. Afterall, I'm sure your curious to how he's coping up with Garett finally waking up after all this time!)//'' <</linkreplace>> [[Next|Inside The Castle]]

''//(Lee's POV)//'' You stand before the mirror, your reflection bathed in a soft, golden glow. Your fingers comb through your hair, slicking it back with precision. With each stroke of the comb, you meticulously arrange every strand, ensuring they fall into place just the way you desire. Each strand glistens under the warm, ambient light, as if each one has a story to tell. Your amber eyes, normally filled with a quiet determination, now burn with renewed intensity, casting a mesmerizing aura over your entire presence. With meticulous care, you fix your buttons and adjust your collar, ensuring every detail aligns perfectly. You run your hands over your shoulders, brushing away imaginary specks of dust that dared to settle. Your fingers smooth down your clothes, banishing even the slightest hint of wrinkles, as if commanding them to submit to your will. The fabric of your clothes, once wrinkled, now lies smooth and crisp against your skin, a testament to your attention to detail. The scent of your chosen perfume fills the air, a delicate fragrance that complements your aura of confidence. It dances around you, a subtle yet intoxicating veil that adds to your allure. You take a moment to savor the aroma, letting it wrap you in a cloak of elegance and sophistication. From the mirror, you see the eyes of your reflection staring back at you, shimmering with a quiet intensity. They are amber, glowing with a golden hue that you've always found enchanting, even if you've never told anyone about it. Your eyes rove over the rest of your face, taking in each and every detail. You see the faint lines around your mouth, a reminder of the countless years you've spent working and struggling to achieve your dreams. The lines around your forehead, which was once a smooth and even plane, are now creased, giving you a sense of wisdom that you've earned through the countless struggles and triumphs you've experienced. The scar in your check, which you received when you were young, a scar that you aquired when fighting Rick to the death in the past. Your hand unconsiously travelled to it, tracing the line gently, letting its cold, numb feeling bring a chill down your spine. But you shake your head no sense in dwelling on the past besides you and him agreed on a truce yet how long the truce will last? That question remains to be seen. Then you set your eyes on your attire, ever since growing up your not the one to wear fancy nor expensive clothes. To you, it reminds you of your poor childhood where it leaves a bad taste in your mouth, still you gotta give credit where credit is due. The color is crimson like blood, The suit jacket matches the suit pants, both are sleek and fit, like a custom-tailored suit. And the undershirt, despite the subtle patterns, has a bold color that pops and draws the eye. The shoes are a slim but comfortable enough, in your opinion. The laces are a lovely shade of silver, a perfect contrast to the crimson. As your eyes travel back up, you notice something dangling from your waist. It's a knife. Oh right, you almost forgot about that. Your hands hover over it, your fingers lightly grazing the surface. "Guess old habits die hard huh?" you murmur to yourself, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. Your fingers continue to glide along the hilt, caressing it as if it were a cherished family heirloom. Your palm brushes the blade, feeling the cold steel against your skin. The sensation is thrilling, sending goosebumps down your spine. This blade is familiar, a companion you've had for years. You've honed its edges, sharpening it with each fight, each kill. But the most important of it all a gift from Garett. The knife is made from the most expensive of silver and at the handle you see a illustration of two doves flying through the sun wing by wing with an olive branch in their beaks. As your eyes fall on the two doves the memory of him playing the piano for her came to you. How could you forget him, so attentive and sweet. He was a skilled musician, his fingers gliding along the keys like a silent symphony. He was kind and caring, always putting others first. He would walk you through the market, his hand in yours, showing you the delicacies and foods of Tiara. He would share his meals with you, always making sure you had enough to eat. He cared for you, bringing you comfort during the trying times. And as your heart aches at the memories, your grip on the blade tightens. How could you let this happen? How could you be so careless? Your hand slams the blade into the sheath, a guttural growl ripping through your lips. How dare Claire attack him ? After all this time, the smile and courtesy were all just a mask and a lie! You grit your teeth, the rage boiling inside you. Every part of your body screams at you to take revenge, to make her pay for what she's done. But you know that can't be done. Anger does not bode well and you know this having experienced it firsthand. The cool metal slides against your skin, the weight a welcome comfort. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, letting the rage dissipate into nothingness. With a sigh, you turn back to the mirror and take in your appearance one final time. "You look good," you whisper, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. As you slip on the gloves, you feel a sense of calm wash over you. It's a sense of peace, a sense of clarity. Everything seems so clear, so simple. And the fear, the anger, the doubt all fade away, replaced by a resolute determination. You push open the heavy wooden door, and as it swings open, a torrent of light floods into the dimly lit hallway. The warm glow reflects off the ornate wallpaper, casting dancing shadows on the walls. The sound of bustling servants echoes through the corridor, their hurried footsteps reverberating off the marble floors. As you step further into the hallway, the voices of the servants become clearer. You overhear snippets of their conversation, gossiping about someone. "Have you seen her?" one of them whispers, excitement lacing her voice. "Yeah, she's so cool!" another servant replies dreamily. A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you realize that the guests have already arrived. The anticipation in the air is palpable, and you can't help but feel a sense of excitement coursing through your veins. The Royal Assets, created by Leon and Leona, the King's most trusted advisors and close friends, have indeed brought a sense of grandeur to the kingdom. You chuckle to yourself at the thought of the King juggling the authority over six divisions, each with its own head mentor. "Ain't that a handful!" you mutter under your breath, amused by the thought. You continue your walk down the corridors, nodding to the guards stationed at various intervals. "Good day!" you call out cheerfully, noticing their gloved hands resting on the hilts of their blades, a clear indication of their readiness. As you pass by, your eyes catch a glimpse of the hilt beneath their coats. The guards notice your lingering gaze and one of them gives you a nod, assuring you that they are on high alert. "Don't worry, Sir, you're safe here," the guard says in a gravelly voice, his words laced with a sense of duty and dedication. Appreciating his professionalism and bravery, you reply, "I appreciate the concern. But why the vigilance?" Curiosity gets the better of you, and you can't help but inquire further. The guard's brow furrows, and he glances to the floor, choosing his words carefully. "Their Majesties ordered us to stay alert, and..." He pauses, his voice trailing off as he hesitates to divulge more. Your interest deepens, and you lean in slightly, urging him to continue. "Go on," you encourage him, your desire for information growing. The guard's brow furrows, his eyes shifting to the floor for a moment. He hesitates, as if contemplating whether to share the information or not. After a brief pause, he decides to proceed. "It's not our place to talk about it. All I can tell you is that the Royal Family has been under a lot of stress and pressure from circulating rumors and gossip in the kingdom. People question their capability to rule and protect their subjects," he says, his voice heavy with concern. Your jaw drops, and you listen intently, desperate for more information. The guard's voice takes on a grave tone as he continues, "Please excuse my boldness, Sir Lee, but there have been reports of suspicious activity and an alarming increase in crimes. The people are starting to lose faith in their rulers." The pieces of the puzzle start to come together in your mind. "So, that explains the vigilance and hostility," you muse, a hint of frustration in your voice. "People can be so fickle, quickly dissatisfied with those in power." The guard nods, his eyes softening with sadness. "Unfortunately, humans are not perfect. We sometimes place our trust in the wrong people," he sighs, his words tinged with regret. With a heavy sigh, you realize that getting sucked into the gossip and drama is not worth your time. "Thank you, sir, for your honesty and insight. I will not keep you from your duties any longer," you say politely, acknowledging the guard's commitment to his post. You continue your walk down the corridors, your thoughts consumed by the gravity of the situation. The next path leads you to the grand throne room, its gold-plated doors looming ahead of you. Even from outside, you can hear the voices and commotion emanating from within. "Good, it seems that I'm just in time for the action," you mutter to yourself, a mischievous glint in your eyes. As you push open the doors, the opulence of the throne room overwhelms your senses. A magnificent chandelier hangs from the ceiling, casting a warm, amber glow over the golden tiles. The room is adorned with intricate tapestries, depicting scenes of valor and grandeur. The floor is carpeted in deep crimson, almost blending in with your suit. The voices inside the room fade into the background as a booming voice calls out, "Lee Pierce, from the House of Pierce and fiancé of Garett Pierce! Welcome and well met, old friend!" You glance up and see King Richard seated on his throne, his arms crossed and a wide smile adorning his face. His eyes sparkle with joy, and his radiant smile lights up his features. "Well, look who finally decided to show up!" he laughs, his voice echoing through the room. All eyes turn towards you, and you bow your head respectfully. "Thank you for the warm welcome, Your Majesty. I apologize for my tardiness," you say, your voice filled with sincerity. "Nonsense! With you Lee! You always make tardiness a grand entrance," Queen Isobel interjects, her voice filled with warmth and amusement. You can't help but be captivated by her beauty. Her azure eyes twinkle with amusement, her lips curved into a friendly smile. Her blonde hair falls in soft waves, cascading down her back in a shimmering curtain. She holds herself with poise and elegance, her posture exuding regality and power. She beckons you closer, her gaze never leaving yours. "It's so good to see you again! Stand by our side here, and please, tell me, how have you been?" she asks, her voice laced with sincerity. You walk towards the center of the room, where two figures come into view. Their attentive eyes watch you intently, curiosity shining in their gazes. "I'm fine, Your Grace," you reply. "Considering Garett is finally conscious!" A smile lights up Queen Isobel's face, her eyes fluttering with emotion. "That's good news! How is he? How does he fare? Is he fully healed? Where is he now?" she asks, her voice filled with concern. "He is up and doing well, Your Majesty. However, it will take time for him to fully recover. He is still in the process of resting and recuperating," you explain, feeling a sense of gratitude towards her. "That's a relief," she sighs, her voice tinged with relief. "It's good to hear that you're doing well too, Sir Lee," Clara's voice suddenly chimes in. You turn to see her smiling genuinely at you. Clara, to her immense credit, now embodies the very essence of an ideal princess, an image of regal seriousness and grace from the crown of her head to the tips of her perfectly positioned toes. If there were ever a manual on the art of royalty, she would be its living, breathing embodiment. Gone are the days of her girlish giggles, the lewd jokes and playfulness that defined her. No, she has transitioned into a woman of maturity and refinement, leaving behind the trappings of youth. She sits straight and poised, a vision of regality that commands attention and respect. Her hair, meticulously arranged, displays not a single strand out of place, and her dress is immaculate, free of even a speck of dust. The transformation is astounding, a metamorphosis that has left no room for imperfection. "Thank you for your concern, Miss Clara," you reply, grateful for her kind words. Your attempts to catch her gaze, to see and wait if she will laugh or say something witty. Yet! You were only met with silence, gone is the sparkle of mischief that once danced in her eyes, now replaced by an emptiness that speaks of devotion to her royal role. Her lips, once quick to curve into a playful smile, are pressed together in a thin, unyielding line. There is no trace of amusement, no hint of the mischievous glimmers or the subtle curl at the corners of her mouth that used to accompany her thoughts of jokes and pranks. Instead, she is a stoic and regal figure, dedicated wholeheartedly to the demands of her position as the perfect princess, a preparation for the eventual mantle of a perfect queen. Before you can say anything more, King Richard interjects, his eyes meeting yours, his expression turning serious. "You're just in time for the ceremony," he announces, his voice carrying a weight of importance. Looking around, you notice that the gang is already assembled. Lucas stood on the outskirts of the room, careful to maintain his distance from the center. His avoidance of the spotlight was deliberate, as if he were a skilled performer aware of the power of his entrance. His eyes, ever observant, darted around the room, never lingering in one place for more than a few fleeting seconds. They resembled the sharp gaze of a vigilant bloodhound, fiercely protecting its territory. Tension rippled through his muscles, evident in the tightness of his shoulders and the coiled strength of his arms. It added to his already imposing appearance, making him a formidable figure to behold. With a firm grip on the hilt of his gleaming longsword, his hand seemed ready to unleash both justice and destruction. A furrowed brow accentuated his seriousness and determination, as if he were ready to face any challenge that lay ahead, even if it meant shedding blood. His heavy armor, meticulously polished to a mirror-like shine, caught and reflected the room's lights, casting an ethereal glow upon him. It was as if he carried his own radiant aura, a symbol of his unwavering dedication to his duty. Each glimmer and shimmer served as a testament to the countless battles he had fought and the countless lives he had protected. In a brief moment, his eyes met yours, and you caught a glimpse of something raw and vulnerable. A hint of redness betrayed the unshed tears that threatened to break free.He bites his lower lip, a brief, raw display of vulnerability. Two blinks, quick and decisive, follow. In an instant, he regains his composure, like a chameleon changing its colors, and transforms back into the flawless soldier and guard that he embodies. It was a fleeting glimpse into the depths of his soul, a glimpse that spoke of pain and resilience, but also of a relentless determination to carry on. Next, your eyes settled on Lucian! He's transformation is nothing short of astounding. As you lay eyes on him, you're struck by a sense of awe and disbelief. The man before you is a far cry from the Lucian you once knew. Gone is the disheveled figure you remember, replaced by a vision of confidence and nobility. His attire, tailored to perfection, speaks of wealth and stature. It clings to his form like a second skin, accentuating his newfound grace. His posture is impeccable, standing tall with his chest held high, and arms crossed regally behind his back. He radiates an air of self-assurance that commands attention, making it impossible to tear your gaze away from him. But it's not just the external changes that leave you dumbfounded. As his eyes lock onto yours, a radiant smile graces his face, transforming his countenance into something utterly enchanting. Those eyes, once filled with doubt and uncertainty, now seem to emit a brilliant light of their own, as if the very sun has ignited within his soul. You find yourself at a loss for words, struggling to comprehend how a mere training session could bring about such a profound metamorphosis. The Lucian before you is a revelation, a testament to the transformative power of dedication and determination. His eyes as if speaking to you. "I told you I was determined to change, to become the best version of myself," Variel, once a vibrant and dangerous dragoness, now stands before you like a perplexing puzzle, her transformation leaving you bewildered and intrigued. Her usual vivaciousness has been replaced by an eerie stillness, as if she's a well-trained dog held back by an invisible leash. The smirk that was once a trademark of her character has vanished, leaving her countenance devoid of its usual playfulness. Even her ruby-red scales, which once gleamed with fiery intensity, now appear dull, like faded embers. When her gaze meets yours, there is no longer a silent threat lurking in her eyes. Instead, an unsettling calmness prevails. Her once-piercing stare now holds only emptiness and silence, akin to a lifeless forest in the dead of winter. The mischievous glint and underlying danger that defined her essence have been completely extinguished. Gone are the revealing and provocative attire that was her signature. In its place, she dons a plain corset that bears no resemblance to her usual style, as if she's traded her flamboyant allure for a facade of conventionality. Her fierce and untamed personality, which was once her hallmark, has been diminished, leaving behind a compliant and well-mannered lady of the court. It's a transformation that defies explanation, a riddle that begs to be unraveled. You can't help but wonder where <<print $player_name>> is. "Where is <<print $player_name>> by the way?" you inquire, your voice filled with curiosity. "That, we do not know," Queen Isobel replies, her voice tinged with uncertainty. As you stood in the opulent throne room, surrounded by royalty and nobility, a sudden commotion above caught your attention. Your gaze turned upward, and there, suspended from the curtains, were two figures looking down upon the gathering. You looked up, and there, perched high above, were two figures peering down at the crowd. Their presence seemed almost otherworldly, their gazes piercing through the sea of onlookers. The room fell silent, waiting to see what would unfold. "Hello everybody!" one of the strangers proclaimed, his voice carrying a sense of excitement and mischief. With a swift motion, he grabbed hold of a nearby curtain rope and swung themselves into action. The audience gasped collectively as he slid down the rope, his descent both graceful and daring. But the spectacle didn't end there. A second figure, drenched from head to toe, made their appearance, sliding down the rope right after the first. The room erupted with whispers and murmurs, the crowd struggling to comprehend the nature of this unexpected duo. "Sorry we're late!" they chimed in sheepishly. The two newcomers landed in the center of the room, their clothes soaked and dripping. One of them, with a confident swagger, shook his hair dramatically from side to side, sending droplets of water in all directions. But amid the spectacle, your eyes caught sight of a familiar face. "MC, I see that you fancied a bit of skinny dipping before the ceremony, hmm?" you joked, a playful grin on your face. Laughter erupted throughout the room at your jest. The first stranger, who had proclaimed his entrance so boldly, winked at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, it wouldn't be a proper entrance without a little dramatic flair, now would it?" he quipped, his voice filled with charisma. Then the figure set his attention on a certain woman. ""Now that's how you do a dramatic entrance, Serena!" he boasted, his confidence radiating through his every word. He wink and finger guns the people behind you. Then you hear a gasp and a collection of thuds from behind you. "So much...much!"a voice says grasping for air. "Why every women in here seems to faint all the time?" you question to yourself. But that didn't stop the man from proceeding with his theatrics. "Why, are you speechless my dear Serena?" he asks as he tries to settle between his friends with each step he takes his boots squelch. "Serena, with her quick wit and sharp tongue, appeared unfazed by Elrick's antics. She greeted him with a playful punch to the shoulder and a mischievous grin. "You know Elrick I think you should carry an extra clothes for our next trip!" "I apologize for my friend's behavior, your Majesties," a woman with striking white hair and a humble demeanor approached the monarchs, her head bowed in contrition. "I will try to discipline them later," she added with a growl. King Richard, however, found the entire spectacle rather amusing. "No need, Luna," he chuckled. "They are quite entertaining." Finally, the assembly seemed complete, and Isobel, the queen herself, clapped her hands together to command attention."Now with everyone is here we can begin in earnest!" MC saunters to your side. "You clean up good!" they say still dripping liquid. "Thanks!" you say jovially. "Although I can't say the same with you!" you snickers. "Gee! I miss already your brooding old self!" they say with a roll with their eyes. "That's what you miss about me?" you ask mockingly. "Nah just kidding!" they whisper with a mischievous glint in their eyes. "Besides we're here in hope for Garett! Right?". The memory sends a pang to your heart. Garett, you sigh as you shake your head sadly. "Yeah! Garett!" you say in a somber tone. "Greeting everyone and I'm glad you can come to this grand event!" Richard begins, standing up from his throne. "Today we are graced with 3 expierenced and glorious warriors. Richard paused and nodding to his wife. "You have know them far and wide, known them for their deeds and reputation!" Isobel narrates. "But it will not do them justice if I will not introduced them properly!" she chuckles and everyone follows suit. "First we have Luna Du Couteau, The Vicious Wolf A name heard all around, feared by all foes who knows. Clad in black suit of unknown material, wielding two deadly blades, a fierce legend known from the south. She bows her head in respect and look at the crowd, her gaze fierce and alert as she searches the room, her sword slung on her waist. How could anyone forget the warrior who challenged a thousand men? The champion of the Assassin Division, They whisper of her prowess in combat, of her power and strength. And now, here she stands, defiant and proud. Those with a cruel and vile heart beware for the Wolf has no mercy for her prey. her icy blue eyes locked onto her enemy, her blade flashing in the light. Like a dancer on the battlefield, she moves with grace and precision, her steps flowing like the tide. As a beast shrouded in mystery and splendor, she is a sight to behold. Her silver hair tumbles in terrfying cascades, framing her pale and delicate face. Her fierce gaze never wavers, her power radiating from every movement, making the moon pale in comparison to her. One can only hope to glimpse her in action, to witness her legendary skills. They say she can tear through flesh and bone, her dagger moving faster than the eye can blink. Of course, these tales can hardly be trusted. Whether true or not, they remain the stuff of legends. Still, the legend remains, a force to be reckoned with. "Thank you your Majesty!" Luna nods her her meekly. "Next we have Serena Fairclough, The Cunning Fox!" That's no surprise. Her cunning and sharp tongue is known far and wide. Even the toughest of guards fall under her spell, her words a weapon in and of themselves. Her face is framed by brown hair, soft and wavy, flowing around her face like a halo. But those who dismiss her because of her beauty would be making a grave mistake. For underneath her charming facade lurks a deadly predator, a crafty fox, ready to pounce on her prey. And when she speaks, her words drip with poison and honey, her gaze piercing into the hearts of men and women. Her gaze when set on something precious,she would track it to its end, cunning and patient as she lies in wait, biding her time, ready to strike. She is always thinking, always scheming, ready to play the game. Such a threat cannot be ignored. And so, the Cunning Fox has earned her place in history, a formidable force to be reckoned with. The smile she presents is full of mischief and guilleness, her eyes glittering with intelligence. While the image she projects is often charming, it hides a darkness within. A dangerous beauty, she is the epitome of temptation and desire. However, those who give in to her charms will find themselves at her mercy, caught in her web of intrigue. That is the true beauty of Serena Fairclough, the leader of the Rogue Division But that's not all. According to rumors, she has taken on the persona of the Phantom Thief, a master thief and spy, a master of stealth and cunning. And how she pulled off these heists without a trace remains a mystery. For behind her mask is a figure shrouded in mystery and intrigue. "I do say your Grace you do how to make a woman blush!" Serena says gingerly. "The last but not the least Elrick Graves, The Watchful Eagle. His aim always true and always on point." Known for his vigilance and tenacity, Elrick is a force to be reckoned with. Weaknesses, insecurity, and doubt are nonexistent in his character, replaced by a sense of purpose and determination. Elrick is a master of disguise, adapting to any situation, blending into the background, and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. His senses are heightened, his reflexes honed, and his skill with a bow unparalleled. Those who underestimate him, do so at their own risk, for he has a fierce streak within him, hidden beneath his air of gentleness. A hunter waiting for his prey, he is always on guard, always ready for anything. But behind that seriousness of duty lies a man of pure happiness and optimiscsm always looking a the silver lining in everything even at the most hopelessness of things. Still, he can be unpredictable at times, his behavior bordering on irrational, his actions driven by his own form of logic. "But who are we to judge?" they say, "for the Eagle flies free, guided by his own compass and not ours." So it is with Elrick, a creature of mystery, a man of contradiction, a hunter with a tender heart. And so, we have these magnificent creatures, each with their own unique abilities and strengths. Let's bring out the banners and celebrate their glory! Hail Luna, the Vicious Wolf! Hail Serena, the Cunning Fox! Hail Elrick, the Watchful Eagle! May they live on in glory and legend, their achievements an inspiration to us all! Let us feast and drink in their honor, and remember their tales of valor, their feats of greatness. In their names, we stand proud and strong, their shadows looming over us, a symbol of strength and power. As we look forward to the future, we will always remember their greatness, and the legacy they have left behind. There will be tales of their triumphs and their failures, their deeds and their misdeeds. But above all, they will be remembered as warriors, as legends, as heroes. The banners are waved, the crowds roar with approval. These three are heroes, icons of power and authority. While they may walk among us now, their presence is no less diminished. Their names will ring out, echoing through the ages, a testament to their greatness. Let us honor their memory, and let their legacy continue to inspire us to do good in the world. Let their feats of courage and valor never be forgotten, and let their example serve as a beacon of hope for generations to come. Queen Isobel concluded her impassioned speech, and the resounding roar of approval from the audience filled the grand hall. "Assets...Assets...Assets!" the crowd cheered, their clapping and booming applause echoing through the room. "Now that we're done with the pleasantries, why don't we mingle with our heroes!" Isobel declared, clapping her hands twice. Her signal prompted a flurry of activity as servants poured in from all directions, akin to ants responding to their queen's call. Some dragged tables, chairs, and utensils, while others carried trays of wine, champagne, and juices. The room quickly transformed into a lively scene, as people settled in and grabbed their cups. The buzz and clamor of conversation filled the air, crackling with electric energy. The rich engaged in their ostentatious exchanges, their conversations dripping with a certain pretentiousness. On the other hand, the middle class opted for more subdued interactions, their subtle gestures and hushed tones reflecting their social standing. Meanwhile, the commoners found themselves huddled together in one corner, attended to by the diligent servants. Laughter and conversation flowed freely among them, though occasional glances of envy were cast towards the affluent guests. You couldn't help but sneer at the insensitivity displayed by the upper class, their complete disregard for the misery of those beneath them. It was a stark reminder of the vast chasm that separated the different levels of society. As you observed the room, your eyes were drawn to the heroes, studying their every move and action. Luna, always sharp and vigilant, maintained her usual watchful stance, her narrowed eyes scanning the room. Eventually, her gaze locked onto you, and she gave a subtle nod before making her way towards you, her presence commanding and unwavering. "Lee Pierce," Luna said softly, her voice filled with emotion. She drew closer, her eyes shining brightly, reflecting the ambient light. Her surroundings didn't escape her notice, and her gaze turned dark and fierce, her posture alert and ready for any potential threat. With a sweeping glance, she surveyed the crowd, analyzing the dynamics and searching for signs of danger. The room seemed to part like a sea as she moved through the crowd, drawing the attention of all in her wake. Just as the music began to play, filling the air with the enchanting melody of violins, lutes, and tambourines, you couldn't help but comment on Luna's tense demeanor. "Aren't you a bit tense, Lady Luna?" you asked, offering her a bow as she approached. Her body remained fully aware, muscles coiled and ready to strike. "One can never be too cautious," she replied, her voice tinged with seriousness. "Shouldn't you loosen up, especially in a party like this? Come, let's go meet some people, including my son Lucas. Believe it or not, I think the two of you are more similar than you realize," you suggested, offering her your arm. Luna eyed it warily before finally accepting, and together, you ventured into the crowd. As you walked, your gaze shifted to Serena, who was surrounded by a flock of admirers. Her voice resonated like a beautiful symphony, captivating the ears of all who listened. "She certainly knows how to flaunt in the spotlight, doesn't she?" you mused, Luna following your line of sight with disdain. "She does," Luna replied with a scoff. "But mark my words, one of these days, it will be her downfall." Her expression twisted into a grimace, revealing her deep-seated animosity towards Serena. Curiosity piqued, you couldn't help but question Luna further. "What do you mean by that?" you inquired, eager to understand the source of their bitter relationship. Luna's gaze hardened, her face contorting with fury. "She's a fox, a charmer. Her tongue drips with poison, luring people in, seducing them, and then betraying them when the time is right," she explained with a grimace. "Loyalty and honesty are not in her nature. It's no surprise she was the leader of the Rogue Division." Her words provoked laughter from you. "Isn't the Assassin Division guilty of the same tactics?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. Luna nodded, her face scrunching up in disgust as a noble sloshed their drink in the air. "We do, but we do it with grace and finesse. By the time our mark realizes we were there, they're already dead. Besides, our profession lacks emotions. However, Serena manipulates emotions and hearts. Not to mention, she lacks discretion," Luna seethed. "She believes her cleverness and skill overshadow everything else. But fame and glory can destroy a person." Your gaze shifted back to Serena, and you noticed the delight shining in her deep amber eyes, her captivating smile and poised demeanor. "Do you truly believe she's capable of such manipulations?" you asked, genuinely curious. "Maybe. Maybe not," Luna replied with a shrug. "All I know is that she's a liability to the team." She shook her head sadly. Luna's words carried a sense of warning and concern. "Are you going to confront her about this?" you asked, sensing the tension between the two. "Will I tell her to her face? Perhaps. But this isn't the time or place for such discussions," she gestured towards the bustling crowd. "Besides, actions speak louder than words. It's only a matter of time until she reveals her true colors." As you stood there, your eyes were immediately drawn to the charismatic Lucas, who seemed to effortlessly attract a swarm of adoring fans. It was as if he possessed a magnetism that made people gravitate towards him. Despite the constant attention, Lucas remained unfazed, his indifferent gaze sweeping over the crowd, as if they were mere flies buzzing around him. "Lucas, my boy!" you greeted him heartily, unable to contain your excitement at seeing him again. "Sir Lee! Glad to see you here!" Lucas responded with a nod, his black hair swaying with the movement. His voice carried a sense of confidence and poise, further adding to his allure. The moment Lucas spoke, the girls who had been surrounding him instantly stopped in their tracks, their eyes fixated on him as he walked away towards you. You could almost hear their collective sighs of despair and frustration. It was as if his departure left a void in their lives, and they yearned for his attention. You couldn't help but wonder, "How does he do that?" Luna, a young woman with curious blue eyes that twinkled with amusement, cast a glance at Lucas. She seemed to have found solace in his presence, her tense demeanor relaxing upon seeing a familiar face amidst the chaos. With a slight smile, she unslung herself from you and placed a hand over her chest, bowing deeply. "Lucas Pierce, The Royal Protector! I feel honored in the presence of such greatness "And you're the fabled Vicious Wolf. I'm honored to finally meet you face to face," Lucas replied, matching her courtesy with a respectful tone, his hands clasped behind his back. Lucas then remarked, "Do we really need to indulge in pleasantries? I find it quite tiresome to greet everyone with long names." Luna waved a dismissive hand at his words. "Indeed, it is a refreshing change to find someone who sees titles and honorifics as nothing more than a waste of breath," she replied, a spark of agreement in her piercing gaze. Lucas nodded in agreement, a faint smile gracing his lips and couldn't help but chuckle softly. He had found a kindred spirit in Luna, someone who shared his disdain for formalities. "You and me will get along rather nicely wel!" he says. Laughter filled the air as you playfully nudged Lucas with your elbow, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh-hoh! What's this? Lucas acting friendly?" you teased, your voice dancing with amusement. Lucas responded with a small frown, adjusting his stance and clearing his throat. "I am always friendly," he replied with a hint of irritation in his tone. His words carried an air of defensiveness, as if he felt the need to justify himself. You couldn't resist pressing further, savoring the rare moment. "Oh really?" you goaded him, your playful demeanor intact. Lucas remained resolute in his response. "Yes. Honestly," he insisted, his face displaying a touch of indignation. A mischievous glint danced in your eyes as you continued to probe. "So you consider calling me an arse that one time to be friendly?" you inquired, tilting your head slightly to the side. Without hesitation, Lucas replied, "Yes. Especially when it's true." His words carried a genuine sincerity, and his expression held no malice. Luna chimed in, her voice carrying a note of agreement. "Indeed," she added, nodding her head thoughtfully. "Lucas seems to be the sort of fellow who speaks his mind, regardless of the circumstances. It's quite admirable, really." She examined Lucas more closely, a hint of admiration in her icy blue eyes. You seized the opportunity to tease Lucas a bit further, a mischievous grin playing on your lips. "Even if his comments are often lacking in tact?" you challenged. Lucas didn't deny it, instead, he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly and admitted, "True. I tend to say what I think, without much regard for the consequences. I'm afraid it's rather... difficult for me to hold back my thoughts. Especially when the other person's being an arse." He cast a cheeky grin your way. "Point taken," you chuckled, thoroughly enjoying the exchange. Lucas's return to his somewhat old self filled your heart with joy, and without hesitation, you bridged the gap between you and enveloped him in a warm, fatherly hug. "Oh, Lucas!" you exclaimed, tears of happiness welling up in your eyes. "I've missed you like this!" Your embrace conveyed your genuine affection, tightening around him but careful not to hurt him. Lucas stood still, his arms hanging by his sides, allowing himself to be embraced. Lucas reciprocated the embrace with fervor, his arms remaining at his sides, but his expression warmed. "I too missed me," he admitted, addressing you as "Le- I mean Father" with fondness and sincerity. Tears of joy flowed freely from your eyes as you held him close, a sense of pride and fulfillment washing over you. "You mean it?" you asked him, the honor of hearing him finally call you "Father" filling you with privilege and emotion. Your embrace tightened even more, and a radiant smile adorned your face as you basked in this cherished moment of reconnection. The air was heavy with emotion as Lucas spoke, his voice trembling with a mix of joy and sorrow. "Of course!" he exclaimed, his eyes glistening with tears. "You and Garett have been by my side when no one else was there." Surprised by the mention of Garett's name, you were about to question Lucas about it, but before you could utter a word, Lucas beat you to it. "I heard the news earlier about his recovery!" he said, his voice cracking as he buried his face in your chest, his cold armor pressing against your stomach. In that moment, you could feel the weight of his emotions as you held him tighter, enveloped in his familiar scent of metal and smoke. "It feels like a dream!" he added, his words muffled against your chest. Overwhelmed, you managed to reply, your voice trembling with tears. "Garett never stops surprising us, does he?" you asked, your hand brushing away the few drops of tears that escaped your eyes. "He's always been such a fighter." Lucas sobbed, his voice quivering with a mixture of sadness and relief. His heart raced against your chest, echoing the intensity of his emotions. "I'll keep visiting him!" he declared, his determination shining through his tears. "And so will I!" you encouraged him, your voice filled with determination. "We will visit him together." The phrase felt oddly familiar, as if you had said it before to Lucas. "Together like Father and Son," you added, withdrawing from the hug and giving him a reassuring pat. Lucas nodded as he wiped his tears away, a resolute and determined look in his eyes. "Yes," he responded with unwavering conviction. Then, his attention turned to Luna, and he made an unexpected offer. "So, do you want to walk with me?" he asked her, a hint of playfulness in his tone. Luna raised an eyebrow, her voice tinged with skepticism. "Walk?" she repeated, clearly surprised by the suggestion. Lucas nodded affirmatively. "More like patrol or finding gaps in the defenses of the castle!" he replied with a sly grin. Luna squinted at Lucas, assessing him carefully. "That sounds intriguing," she conceded, her curiosity piqued. "Lead the way, Royal Protector!" Your laughter bubbled up at their exchange, entertained by their banter that reminded you of simpler times when Lucas was more carefree. "Go ahead, Lucas! And don't forget to come back safe and sound. No running off on your own!" you teased him. "Sure!" Lucas replied, wiping away a few remaining tears. "Who knows, maybe I'll find a few straggling assassins." His tone was laced with sarcasm and mischief, and you couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. "See you later, Father!" Lucas waved as he walked away, his steps purposeful and determined, as if he were on a mission. "Watch my back, Luna!" he called out, flashing her a mischievous smile. Luna nodded, her eyes still holding a hint of suspicion. "With me by your side, no threat will befall you," she replied, though her tone remained cautious. She shook her head as if to dispel her doubts and began to follow Lucas. "A woman after my own heart!" Lucas declared with a determined gleam in his eyes. "I'll make sure he doesn't get into trouble, sir," Luna assured you with a quick salute. "I promise to keep an eye on him." "Well, that's good to hear! Take care, both of you!" you called after them, waving as they disappeared from your sight and being swallowed by the merry crowd. As they disappeared from sight, a sigh of relief escaped your lips. You were grateful to have been reunited with your beloved son once again. It was a welcome change to see him acting more like his old self, playful and mischievous. It felt as though a dark cloud had been lifted from his soul, his demeanor brighter and more optimistic. Amidst the bustling crowd and the lively music, your gaze landed on <<print $player_name>>, who stood there with a drink in hand. ?mcTheir eyes met yours, and a warmth spread through your chest seeing a friendly face. With a casual wave, you acknowledged ?mctheir presence and began making your way through the vibrant gathering, each step filled with anticipation. [[Next|MC's POV]]

''//(MC's POV)//'' Amidst the lively festivities, Lee's eyes locked onto you, a glint of recognition and delight dancing in his gaze. With a casual wave, they acknowledged your presence, . Lee's face beamed with a radiant smile as he approached you. His eyes sparkled with a newfound sense of positivity, and his movements were as graceful as a dancer. With a swift and confident gesture, he deftly plucked a glass from the tray carried by a passing servant. Curiosity piqued, you couldn't help but chuckle at Lee's infectious enthusiasm. His transformation, evident in the exchange you had just witnessed between him and Lucas, was nothing short of remarkable. The warmth of the sun seemed to have embraced him, illuminating his entire being. "You seem positively radiant today, my friend," you remarked, a playful glint in your eyes. Offering your own glass, you extended it towards Lee, eager to clink it with his, symbolizing a shared celebration of his newfound joy. Lee's laughter filled the air, a melodious symphony that matched the rhythm of his vibrant personality. The sound carried a sense of freedom and liberation, as if he had shed a heavy burden that had weighed him down for far too long. His voice, as he responded to your jest, was infused with an air of confidence and contentment. "The sunshine can't compare to what I'm feeling right now MC!" he says taking a sip of this drink. Lee's radiant smile persisted as he basked in the warmth of the moment. Your words seemed to touch a chord within them, and they gazed at you with genuine gratitude. Their eyes, now reflecting the glow of happiness, appeared to be windows into a world of cherished memories. "Seeing you happy like this is contagious, my friend," you confessed, your voice filled with sincerity. "It's wonderful to see you letting loose, almost as if you're glowing from the inside out." As you spoke, Lee's eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment, as if they were transported to a place of pure ecstasy and comfort. It was as though his reliving a cherished memory, one that filled their heart with immeasurable joy. "It's a miracle," Lee responded, their voice laced with emotion. "Seeing Lucas like this again, it's truly a blessing. I thought I had lost him forever." Your empathy for your friend's journey was palpable, and you nodded in understanding. "That must have been such a relief to see him back to his old self." Lee's eyes glistened with a tear that threatened to escape, his emotions laid bare for all to see. "It is, you can't even imagine how much," he admitted, his voice quivering with emotion. "I remember the days when he was a wee little lad, young and carefree, running in the gardens, playing hide-and-seek." A soft chuckle escaped him. "But not even that compares to now. To see him embrace his newfound sense of purpose, with a spark in his eye and a bounce in his step, it's beyond anything I could have imagined." However, the atmosphere shifted, and a somber shadow seemed to cross Lee's heart. His gaze became weighted with a sense of regret and pain. "To think I almost lost him, and all because of his revenge," Lee confessed, his voice trembling with sorrow. "I'll never forgive myself for what happened." Your heart ached as you listened to Lee's anguish, and you reached out to offer comfort. "Don't beat yourself up, Lee. The important thing is that Lucas is alive and well. And you know, he's a tough one, so even if you hadn't saved him in time, he would have probably made it on his own." Lee glanced at you, his eyes holding a mixture of pride and tenderness. "That he is. Lucas has always been resilient, a fighter, ready to take on the world." he gazed fondly at the spot where Lucas had disappeared into the crowd. "Also, you should have been there to hear him say it!" his tone shifted to one of high intensity, washing away the earlier sorrow. "He called me Father!" he exclaimed with pure joy. Your hearty slap on Lee's back resonated with excitement. "Congrats, Lee! I'm happy for you!" Lee concurred with a heartfelt smile. "Yeah," they agreed, their face softened with affection. "I never thought I would hear him say that again." Understanding the depths of Lee's despair and pain, you decided to shake him out of his melancholic mood. You gripped his arm and gave it a hearty shake, a playful yet encouraging gesture. "Hey! What's with this depressing mood, Lee? You should be celebrating!" you exclaimed, trying to inject some enthusiasm into the atmosphere. The moment your words reached Lee's ears, a child-like glint sparkled in his eyes, and he looked off into the distance, as if reminiscing about happier times. "Well, there's always a silver lining to every situation, as they say. Lucas's recovery and transformation is evidence of that." Your chuckle filled the air as you shook your head in agreement. "Yes, it seems he's got more energy and vigor than ever before." Lee's grin widened with pride at your observation, and his eyes shone with a renewed sense of joy and vigor. "Well, the boy certainly did keep me on my toes! Not to mention his wild adventures when he was a child. One time, I found him with a squirrel on his shoulder and a small snake draped around his neck. And then, when I questioned him about it, he responded, 'Father, these are my friends, and they saved me from falling out of a tree. You should be more worried for me finding snakes and squirrels than not.'" Your laughter bubbled forth at the delightful image painted by Lee's words. "That sounds absolutely adorable. I don't think I've ever seen a child with such a love for animals." "Indeed," Lee agreed, a fond look in his eyes as he continued to share their memories. "I think Lucas was gifted with a kind heart and an affinity for nature." The recollection of those cherished moments seemed to light up his spirit, washing away the shadows of the past. Hearing Lee so very open with Lucas when he was a child gave you an idea. "Say do you have any more Childhood Lucas stories for me?" you ask him and Lee grinned at you. "Lucas is very tight lipped like a oyster with his past!" Lee's eyes shone with a dangerous glint. Lee rubbed his hands together, his eyes gleaming with a hint of danger. It was clear that he relished the opportunity to delve into Lucas's past. "Let me tell you about the time when Lucas had this fascination with animals," Lee began, glancing at you as if to gauge your reaction. "Picture this: Lucas, a little boy, innocently bringing home a small bunny rabbit he found in the forest." A smirk played across Lee's face, and you could see the cheesy grin threatening to burst out. "But you know how one thing leads to another," Lee continued, almost bursting with suppressed laughter. "Before he knew it, Lucas's room was filled with baby animals! It was like a zoo in there!" You couldn't help but chuckle at the image of Lucas's room overflowing with furry creatures. Lee's stories were indeed entertaining, but you wanted more. "Surely there's more than that, Lee," you probed, urging him to share something more captivating. Surprised by your enthusiasm, Lee glanced at you, a mix of surprise and delight in his eyes. "Oh, there's plenty more where that came from," he assured you. "How about the time Lucas went through a lavender phase and wanted to become a flower child? He wore a flower crown and everything! I've never seen him so pink!" You stared at Lee, astounded by the image he painted. Lucas, with his serious demeanor, embracing his inner flower child. It was a sight to behold. "And that was just the beginning," Lee continued, his voice filled with excitement. "I have so many more stories of Lucas with even more fun and quirky moments from his childhood." Your eyes widened with anticipation! "That's it Lee? Give me something more robust! something that will make me choke on my spirit!" to emphazise your challenged you begin to take a sip of your drink very slowly. Lee cleared his throat, taking on a dramatic orator stance. "Challenge accepted, my friend," he declared. "Let me tell you about the time Lucas ventured into a mysterious cave in the woods. When he returned, his skin turned deadly pale, fangs emerged when he grinned, and his eyes glowed blood red!" Lee's eyes narrowed as he leaned closer to your ear, his voice dropping to a whisper. "To our astonishment, Lucas transformed into a bat right before our very eyes. We couldn't understand the screeching sounds he made, but it was clear he was having the time of his life." You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Lee's tales had taken a dark and fantastical turn. As you recovered from your shock and managed to cough up the liquid that had caught in your throat, Lee leaned even closer, his voice filled with a chilling intensity. "But let me tell you about his hunting days," Lee continued, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "As a vampire, Lucas couldn't hunt like a normal human. Instead, he turned to the wild animals in the woods, draining blood bags like it was a regular routine for him." Before you could interject with a word of disbelief, Lee's voice grew louder and more animated. "It was a challenging time for all of us," he confessed, his eyes reflecting a mix of conflicting emotions. "Dealing with a child having tantrums with the strength of a hundred men! Thankfully, the curse was lifted, and the antidote took effect in the following weeks. I still remember how Lucas would cry because he couldn't turn into a bat anymore." You couldn't help but wonder about the pain and struggle Lee and the others must have endured to help Lucas through such a bizarre ordeal. "Did it hurt when you helped Lucas?" you asked, your voice filled with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Lee nodded solemnly. "Yes, it felt odd and creepy to actually touch a bat," he admitted. "Holding him in place while we forced the antidote into his mouth was a challenge. But in the end, it was worth it." It was as if the conversation was suddenly filled with a bizarre and macabre air, and you began to get goosebumps. "God, can't you see I'm already cringing Lee!" you countered, glaring at him "Oh shucks, you caught me," Lee conceded, grinning mischievously. "I've been spending too much time with Lucas, and my sense of humor has become rather morbid." As you tried to recover from your shock and unease, you couldn't help but wonder why you were friends with him. Still, you loved the unexpected and whacky adventures that came with being with him. "Well, Lee, you sure do keep me on my toes," you admitted, shaking your head in disbelief. The stories he had just shared with you were beyond bizarre and fantastical, almost too incredible to believe. Your eyes widened as you struggled to process everything. Lee chuckled softly, mischief dancing in his eyes. "Believe it or not, Lucas is full of surprises. You never know what he's capable of," he confessed, his voice laced with a sense of awe. It was as if he had witnessed something truly extraordinary. Your skepticism lingered, and you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "Well, I'll take your word for it, my friend," you conceded, your words tinged with a hint of suspicion. You had known Lee for a long time, and although he had a mischievous side, he was not one to fabricate such tales. Lee shook his head firmly, his expression unwavering. "I'm telling the truth, MC. Lucas is a fierce warrior, one who has overcome the odds and faced the challenges of the world with strength, skill, and bravery. It's truly remarkable." The way Lee spoke of Lucas painted a vivid picture of a charismatic and determined individual, someone who always seemed to rise to the occasion, no matter what the situation. "You have a point there," you admitted, the image of Lucas's unwavering determination etched in your mind. "Lucas is quite unique." "Indeed. And so are you, my friend," Lee insisted, his voice filled with admiration. "Just like me, you are driven, determined, and endlessly curious. I've always admired your inquisitive mind and adventurous spirit." A hint of surprise flashed in your eyes as you leaned in, intrigued by Lee's impression of you. "Oh? Please, indulge me," you urged, eager to hear his insights. Lee chuckled softly, tapping his chin in deep thought. "Where do I even begin?" he mused, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "How about your relentless pursuit of Variel, despite her vileness and bloodthirsty nature? It takes a special kind of courage to seek out someone so dangerous." You opened your mouth to protest, but Lee swiftly cut you off, his grin widening. "Now, now, let's not get distracted," he teased. "And what about your never-ending optimism? No matter how dire the circumstances, you always find a way to remain hopeful. Your determination to persevere through any obstacle or hurdle, even when others have already given up, is truly inspiring." You attempted to interject once again, but Lee continued, undeterred. "Then, there's your incredible sense of compassion and empathy. You care deeply for others, even those who have done you wrong. It's one of the things that makes you a true friend to others," he said, his voice tinged with a touch of melancholy. "Despite their flaws, you continue to pursue the good in them," he mused, his words carrying a deep sense of understanding. Hearing Lee acknowledge these qualities filled your heart with warmth. As the Author of this world, you did indeed care about each living soul within it, and it was a testament to your creativity and connection with your characters. You couldn't help but shake your head, your lips curling into a fond smile. "So it seems we are more alike than we thought," you remarked playfully, giving Lee a gentle nudge. "Both with a knack for the strange and fantastical, aren't we?" Lee tilted his head, his brows furrowing as thoughts danced behind his eyes. It was a moment of introspection, a glimpse into the depths of his soul. "I suppose we are," he finally admitted, his voice tinged with a touch of vulnerability. With a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, he continued, "Although, to be honest, I've never considered my tales to be fantastical. It's more of a reflection, a mirror that reflects my experiences with Lucas and how he grew up." As Lee spoke, a spark ignited in his eyes, a fire fueled by the memories and emotions tied to his stories. It was evident that these tales held a special place in his heart, a place reserved for the bond he shared with his son. The warmth that emanated from him was palpable, a gentle embrace that enveloped anyone who dared to listen. Curiosity tugs at you, and you can't resist asking, "Does Lucas know about his father's tales?" There's a hint of intrigue in your voice, wondering how Lucas would react to these stories from his childhood. A smile played at the corners of Lee's lips, a mixture of fondness and amusement. With a slight shrug and a twinkle in his eye, he replied, "Lucas may have rolled his eyes or scoffed when he heard me recounting my tales. You know, that teenage skepticism that lingers in the air. But in those fleeting moments, when I catch a glimpse of his eyes, there's a glint, a flicker of something deeper. It says, 'Just don't take it seriously, Father. I'm not buying it!' But deep down, I know he listens, even if he doesn't say it aloud." You find yourself laughing at Lee's words, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as amusement dances in your eyes. The sound of your laughter fills the air, a clear indication of the mirth that Lee's comment has brought forth. "So, if I may hazard a guess," you say, your voice laced with humor, "Lucas isn't particularly interested in childhood stories?" Lee nods, his expression growing serious. "That's putting it lightly, my friend," he responds, his tone tinged with concern. "Lucas possesses a unique talent for keeping his thoughts to himself, or masking his true feelings behind a brave facade. I fear that the memories of his childhood might haunt him for a very long time." As Lee's words settle in, a wave of sadness and regret washes over you, the weight of your role in this grand story becoming more pronounced. You ponder on your purpose as the proclaimed Chosen One, the one destined to vanquish Claire's darkness. In the beginning, your mind was set on meeting your creation and settling into a peaceful existence. But as fate would have it, the Gods had different plans for you, full of surprises and unforeseen twists at every turn. You offer a sympathetic response, your voice tinged with empathy. "Well, I guess the only thing left is to hope and keep a close eye on him," you reply, your commitment to the story and its characters stronger than ever. Before Lee can respond, your attention is drawn to a figure approaching, a cascade of striking brown hair catching your eye. "Ahhh! Serena Fairclough!" Lee's voice carries a playful tone as he bows in deference. "You have finally decided to grace us with your presence!" His quip is lighthearted and brimming with jest. Serena, her own laughter dancing in her eyes, plays along with the banter. "You know I have heard around that Lee's words are lacking in tact and propriety, but hearing it firsthand, I can say that their words didn't do you justice, milord!" She inclines her head in a respectful nod. "Ohhh, have mercy, Miss Fairclough! My words may sting, but my bite is tenfold!" Lee feigns offense, his theatrics drawing a chuckle from you. However, Serena's sly grin reveals that she's thoroughly enjoying the verbal sparring. "I have no doubt about that, milord," she teases, her tone holding a mischievous edge. "You, sir, are a delightful source of entertainment and joy, that is for certain." Lee placed his glass on the polished surface, his hands coming together in a resounding clap. His mischievous eyes sparkled as he glanced between the two of you. "Well, my dear friends, I believe it's time for me to leave you both to discuss matters privately, eh?" He winked playfully, his gaze lingering for a moment before he turned his back. "Play nice, you two," he advises, his voice taking on a paternal tone as he offers a word of caution. "And <<print $player_name>>, be careful with your valuables!" Lee raises a warning finger, his tone laced with humor. "Serena's hands are known for exploring uncharted territories, whether it be on your person or other personal parts!" Tutting disapprovingly, Lee clicked his tongue and aimed his index finger at you, mimicking a gun. "But fear not, my friend. I jest. Well, mostly." His voice carried a playful melody, tinged with a hint of mischief. "Just be mindful of her wandering hands, won't you?" Serena, not one to back down from the jest, bursts into a hearty guffaw, her laughter filling the air as she shakes her head at Lee's theatrics. "Sir Lee, why must you reveal my act?" Her tone is melodramatic, her hand resting dramatically on her chest. "Now, how can I impress <<print $player_name>> here with my alluring personality?" Serena licks her lips in a playful, teasing manner, her eyes locking onto yours with an enticing gaze. [[Oh! I'm sure you can find ways to keep me entertained]] [[Me...Impressed? Don't get ahead of yourself!]] [[You sure your not the one who's impressed by me]]

You raised your glass to Serena, a mischievous glint in your eyes, and spoke in your most velvety voice. "Oh! I'm sure you can find ways to keep me entertained!" Serena smirked in response, her gaze predatory and alluring. "I'm pleased with your faith in me," she purred, slowly approaching you with an air of seduction and grace. She bowed low, extending her hand towards you. "May I ask you for a dance?" she offered, her voice dripping with enticement. You accepted her hand with a confident smile. "It would be rude of me to leave you hanging and heartbroken in a million pieces," you replied, winking playfully at her. Serena laughed, a sound that was both enchanting and captivating. "Oh, how I love your spunk! It makes me feel like the luckiest girl on this dance floor." Grinning at her, you replied, "I hope it stays like that." With an unexpected boldness, Serena grabbed your arm and placed her leg on your hip, slowly uncoiling it in a sensual manner as she faced you. Your eyebrow raised in surprise. "We haven't even reached the dance floor yet!" you murmured, unable to hide your amusement. "Trust me," Serena whispered, her voice filled with promise, "I will make you forget your own name." She then let her body drop slowly to the ground, her knees bent, captivating the attention of everyone around you. Whispers filled the air as all eyes settled on the two of you. Serena's face held a satisfied expression, reveling in the attention. Meanwhile, you felt a sudden bout of self-consciousness engulfing you. It was not every day that you found yourself in such a state, especially in public. However, you refused to back down, taking in a deep breath and meeting Serena's gaze with determination. Serena took your hand, and together, you ascended to the center of the dance floor. A slow, steady rhythm played in the background, and you felt yourself being swept away by the enchanting melody. The sweet sound of a violin and a flute began to fill the air, intertwining with the gentle sway of your bodies. As Serena guided you across the dance floor, you couldn't help but ask, "So, are you always like this?" "What do you mean?" Serena's tone was innocent, her eyes sparkling mischievously. She looked absolutely stunning, even in the dim lighting, with her hair cascading over her shoulders and back. You shrugged your shoulders, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I don't know. Always so pushy and demanding, yet also charming and intriguing." Serena chuckled softly, shaking her head. "I can't help it. It's just in my nature," she replied, her voice filled with a hint of mystery. "You can't deny that you're drawn to my allure." With that, she twirled you around, her movements filled with grace and confidence. You couldn't help but playfully correct her. "So cocky, but very mistaken! See? Now you're getting distracted! Very unprofessional." "Oh?" Serena's voice held a teasing edge as she leaned closer to you. "You call that unprofessional? I like to think of it as flirting." The dance continued, an electrifying tango between you and Serena, each step charged with tension. Your exchange of words had turned into a playful battle of wits, and Serena seemed intent on keeping the game going. As you raise an eyebrow and smirk at Serena, you can't help but feel a mix of amusement and annoyance. "I know you're just trying to impress me. I appreciate it, but it's not needed," you reply honestly, your voice laced with a hint of sarcasm. Serena, undeterred by your response, teases you with a widening smile. "Of course, you don't know anything about my professionalism, do you?" she says playfully, her words dancing in the air. You feel your cheeks flush with anger, unable to resist the subtle challenge in her tone. "I guess it's true what they say about keeping a professional facade," she continues, her smile growing more mischievous. Suddenly, you feel a gentle pressure against your thigh, and your eyes widen as you realize that Serena's hand is resting there, fingers softly stroking your skin. Your breath catches in your throat, and you can't help but glance at her in disbelief, searching for an explanation. "What are you doing?" you manage to utter, your voice a mix of surprise and confusion. "What? I can't have a little fun?" Serena replies, her innocent tone contrasting with the audaciousness of her actions. She seems unapologetic, as if daring you to object. "Seriously? Here, in the center, where people are watching?" you ask incredulously, your voice filled with disbelief and a touch of anxiety. The idea of being the center of attention in such a way makes your heart race. Serena laughs at your statement, her laughter a melodic sound that echoes through the room. "What? They will think of it as an exotic dance. Besides, I'm very good with sleight of hand and being the center of attention! None of them would be any the wiser!" she explains, her voice filled with confidence. You find yourself leaning into Serena, her breath tickling your neck, her body pressed against yours. "I can't believe you're actually doing this!" you protest, your voice a mix of incredulity and fascination. Your eyes remain locked on hers, daring her to back down, even as your heart races. "Oh, I'm not done yet! Just watch me!" Serena replies, her tone a blend of determination and amusement. With effortless grace, she maneuvers you around the dance floor, her movements fluid and captivating. The room seems to fade away as you become entranced by her presence, her confidence infectious. "You see, <<print $player_name>>? This is what you're missing. And I'm more than happy to show you!" Serena whispers in your ear, her words sending a shiver down your spine. Her lips brush against your cheek, and you feel a surge of electricity run through your veins. Time seems to stand still as the world around you fades into the background. In an unexpected twist, Serena dips you abruptly, causing your leg to extend and your shoe to fly off, hitting someone in the head followed with a thud of a body. A collection of gasps fills the room. "Sorry!" aware of the attention you've inadvertently drawn. Serena pulls you back up, seamlessly continuing the dance as if nothing had happened. As she leads you in the dance, Serena presses a palm to your heart, her touch both gentle and electrifying. "You're a strong one, <<print $player_name>>. You've got a fighting spirit, a fiery temper, and a hunger for adventure," she says, her voice filled with admiration. She leans closer, her lips brushing against your ears, her eyes filled with a dark, mysterious light that holds the secrets of the universe. "Maybe I can teach you a few things," she whispers seductively. You can't help but chuckle at Serena's persistent attempts to change your mind. Her playful demeanor and teasing smirk only add to the amusement. "So very persistent, I have you know that I have my eyes set on a very someone!" you say, a mischievous glint in your eyes. Serena looks at you with amusement, her eyes twinkling. "Oh? Can't I change your mind about me? Or maybe I need to learn a trick or two from you?" she says, winking playfully and curling her lips into a teasing smirk. A smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth as you taunt her, trying to maintain your composure. "Oh? You think I'm that good? Maybe you need to prove your worth!" The challenge hangs in the air, and Serena grins, placing a hand on her hip. "I'll have you know that I am very skilled in many areas. I am not just a pretty face!" Serena replies confidently, her voice laced with a hint of mischief. She winks playfully at you, her eyes glimmering with determination. Her charm catches you off guard, momentarily leaving you speechless. A laugh escapes your lips as you try to regain your composure. "So you admit you're only here to show off your skills?" A flicker of amusement dances in Serena's eyes as she shrugs nonchalantly. "What can I say? I like to let people know I'm more than just a flirty ''//Asset//'', so to speak." She twirls around, her hair fluttering behind her, drawing the attention of the growing crowd. The applause and cheers grow louder, fueling the energy in the room. "So does this special someone have a name?" Serena inquires, her voice curious and playful. You shake your head, a sly smile playing on your lips. "That someone's name is a secret! Why jealous that your charm failed to capture my heart and interest?" The playful banter continues, and Serena grins at you, undeterred. "Not really, just curious to what techniques they're using to capture a rare gem like yourself," she purrs, her voice filled with intrigue. "That someone must be a total bae, eh?" Serena's face lingers over you, her lashes fluttering, her smile never wavering. A mischievous smile danced upon your lips as you shrugged nonchalantly, meeting Serena's gaze head-on. "You have no idea!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with a hint of smugness. "Anyone who ends up with them is the luckiest and most satisfied person alive. They possess a power that transcends words, an allure that captivates all who witness their presence." For a moment, Serena seemed taken aback, her eyes searching yours for any hint of deception. Her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something, but she held back, a flicker of uncertainty passing across her features. "Got you speechless have I?" you boast, your heart thumping in your chest and feeling a sense of victory over her. Serena scoffed, recovering her composure. "Hah! Please! You may have caught me off guard, but it won't last for long." Her eyes narrowed, a defiant look taking over her features, her posture growing more resolute, exuding a newfound strength. Your laughter bubbled up from deep within, a melodic sound that filled the room. It was almost as if Serena's defiance fueled your amusement, igniting a fire within you. "Oh, Serena," you taunted, your voice dripping with playful arrogance. "It seems that I have shaken your composure. Your confidence is wavering, and it's a sight to behold." Serena shook her head, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Her eyes narrowed, a glimmer of determination shining through. "You may have been a worthy competitor," she conceded, her voice filled with a newfound resolve. "But that doesn't mean you have won just yet." She tilted her head to the side, her luscious hair cascading down her shoulder like a waterfall. "And judging by your reactions, I would say that you are enjoying my company as much as I am enjoying yours." You raised an eyebrow, feigning indifference, your hold her arm tight and unyeilding. "I'm not sure what you're talking about. Maybe your dancing skills aren't as good as they used to be?" you countered playfully. Serena remained unphazed and her challenge hung in the air, a daring proposition to settle this playful rivalry. "Well, if you're going to be a critic, let's not keep the crowd waiting," she declared with a hint of challenge in her tone. "Let's bring this show to a proper end, shall we? Show me what you've got." She twirled around with mock bravado, her voice carrying the challenge as she dared you to prove her wrong. You couldn't resist a playful grin as Serena issued her challenge, her teasing demeanor fueling your competitive spirit. "As you wish, my lady," you responded with a touch of sarcasm, releasing her from your grasp. With newfound determination, you decided to showcase some breakdancing skills from your past life. As the music pulsed through the room, you unleashed your inner dancer. Your body moved with a grace that surprised even you, effortlessly keeping up with Serena's steps. The crowd couldn't help but be drawn to the spectacle unfolding before them. Suddenly, you dropped to the floor, your hands supporting your weight as you prepared for a daring move. You executed a flawless flare, your legs spinning around like a whirlwind. The room seemed to hold its breath as you defied gravity, your body a blur of motion. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, their excitement palpable in the air. "I do say what kind of dance is this?" a noble ask both aghast and awed. The room buzzed with excitement as the onlookers marveled at your astonishing dance-off. Applause and admiring comments filled the air. "I've never seen anything like it!" a woman in a resplendent blue gown exclaimed, her eyes wide with amazement. "It's a sight to behold, truly," another guest declared, clearly bedazzled by the performance. Serena couldn't hide her delight, a mischievous grin stretching across her face. She turned to you with genuine admiration. "You have a talent, MC," she admitted. "But not quite as much as me!" You responded with a confident smirk, unwilling to let her have the last word. The music's tempo increased, setting the stage for your final showdown. As the melody quickened, Serena's frustration became evident. She struggled to keep up with your every step, her movements slowing down, her once-fluid grace faltering. She raised a hand to signal her surrender, her other hand resting on her knee, panting heavily. "I yield...I yield!" she gasped, clearly exhausted. It was a testament to Serena's strength and determination that she had held her own during the dance-off, especially after the impressive performance you had delivered. The crowd watched in disbelief as you confidently approached Serena, your chest heaving from the exertion of the dance. "I believe I've won this battle," you declared, your tone laced with triumph. Serena staggered back, her back pressing against a grand pillar as she fought to catch her breath. "Well played, <<print $player_name>>," she muttered, a playful glint in her eyes as she gazed at you. "Perhaps next time, I'll emerge victorious!" She wiped the sweat from her forehead and added with a grin, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think those free drinks are calling my name!" With a flirty blow of a kiss in your direction, she turned and gracefully made her way towards the refreshments. Lost in your thoughts, you are suddenly jolted back to reality by a voice cutting through the silence like a sharp blade. "<<print $player_name>>!" The voice belongs to Lee, a trusted friend and confidant. He approaches you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hmm, I see that Serena has left quite an impression on you," he muses, his voice brimming with amusement. "But don't worry, <<print $player_name>>. She's not worth your attention. In fact, she's not even worthy of anyone's trust." You glance at Lee, disbelief and confusion evident in your eyes. You can't help but wonder if he's merely joking or if there's some truth to his words. "Is she really that despicable?" you ask, your voice filled with uncertainty. Lee shakes his head, his expression grave. "Despicable is an understatement, <<print $player_name>>. Serena is a living, breathing nightmare. Many people, especially men, have fallen under her spell, only to be discarded like chopped liver once she gets what she wants." Placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, Lee's voice softens with compassion. "Don't let her get to you, <<print $player_name>>. She's not worth it. Besides, I want you to meet Garett. The gang is all there, and I came back just to fetch you!" He winks at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'll always have your back, <<print $player_name>>. Loyalty until death, you know. And I can tell you're not into her. I won't let some vain, egotistical woman come between you and your happiness." Lee's words echo in your mind, causing a lump to form in your throat. The idea of love, of finding someone to share your life with, still feels like a distant dream. But in this moment, with Lee by your side, you feel a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, amidst the chaos and uncertainty of your new life, there is room for love and connection. Lee clasps your shoulder and leads you away from the bustling event, guiding you through a labyrinth of hallways. The sounds of laughter and music grow distant, replaced by the soft echo of your footsteps. The air becomes cooler, carrying with it a subtle hint of pine, offering a soothing balm to your troubled mind. Lee gestures for you to follow, and you trail behind him, captivated by his confident strides. Silently following his lead, you found yourself enveloped in contemplation once more. The questions about your new life and its purpose weighed on your mind. But rather than dwell on uncertainties, you decided to initiate a conversation to break the silence. "So, how's Garret?" you inquired, eager to shift the focus. Lee's voice breaks the silence, his words dripping with excitement. "Garrett, oh, he's doing well. I think Lucas will finally relent on his vendetta quest and make peace with him. It will be a sight to see," Lee says, chuckling to himself. He continues walking with a gleeful bounce in his step. He led you through a heavy wooden door, its ancient hinges groaning in protest. As you stepped into the dimly lit corridor, a cool breeze brushed against your skin, carrying with it a gentle scent of pine. The air was tinged with a comforting familiarity, a balm to your stressed-out mind. It felt like a respite from the chaos that had consumed your life. Lee, with a weariness etched in every line of his face, gestured for you to follow him. His strides were confident, but you could sense the weight he carried on his shoulders. It mirrored your own burden, the responsibility of saving an entire world and preventing the unraveling of time. Empathy swelled within you as you trailed behind him, matching his steps. Turning a corner, Lee's eyes brightened and a wide grin spread across his face. You followed eagerly, anticipation building within you. The sound of hushed voices grew louder as you approached a group of four people waiting outside a door. Lucas, with his rigid posture and tense expression, exuded an aura of tension that seemed to permeate the air. His emotions weighed heavily, threatening to unbalance you. "<<print $player_name>>!" he greeted you cordially, but there was an underlying unease in his voice. Variel, standing toward the back, attempted to blend into the shadows, her presence almost invisible. Lucian leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes scanning the room for any potential threats. Clara, seemingly unaffected by the heavy atmosphere, welcomed you with a warm smile. "It's good to see you, <<print $player_name>>!" she said, her voice a soothing melody amidst the tension. Before you could respond, Lee ushered you inside the room, his grip firm on your shoulder. The space was small, a vase of vibrant flowers sitting atop a delicate table. Sunlight poured in through an open window, casting a gentle glow over the scene. But your attention was drawn to the figure lying on the bed, engrossed in a book. "Lee! Your ba-" he put down the book on his lap and eyes widened in surprised at the sudden arrival of guests. "Surprised, sweetie!" Lee exclaimed happily, sauntering toward Garett and planting an affectionate kiss on his head, their interaction radiating warmth and familiarity. As you stood at the door, watching the scene unfold before your eyes, a voice broke the silence. "Who's that?" Garett asked, pointing in your direction. . "Come on in! Don't be shy," another man named Lee beckoned, gesturing for you to come closer. With cautious steps, you made your way towards the pair. However, as you approached, you couldn't help but notice a fleeting look of apprehension flash across the face of a man named Garett. It was unclear whether he was happy to see you or simply annoyed by your unexpected arrival. "I'm <<print $player_name>>!" you introduced yourself, trying to break the tension that hung in the air. Garett nodded in recognition. "Ahh! The Chosen One I have heard so much about," he said, a smile forming on his face. "Also not to mention your the one who tamed Beatrice!" he laughs heartily at that. "The way you coo her!" Suddenly, Lucas tapped your shoulder, drawing your attention away from Garett. You turned around, only to find Lucas looking distraught. "Excuse me," he said, his voice filled with urgency as he made his way towards the bedside. Lucas knelt down, taking hold of his father's hand. Lee placed a comforting hand on Lucas' shoulder, offering his support. "Father, it's me," Lucas began, his voice trembling. "I miss you so much." Garett's eyes welled up with tears, a sudden display of emotion that took everyone in the room by surprise, except for Lee. He sobbed softly, his voice choked with sorrow. "I'm sorry, but I don't know you. I don't remember you at all," he confessed, tears streaming down his face as he sniffled. "I don't remember any single one of you, and I don't remember any of the memories you're talking about. You must have mistaken me for someone else." Lucas felt a sharp pain pierce his heart. The sudden realization struck him like a lightning bolt, and he could feel his chest constrict with anxiety and dread. All the moments of closeness, the cherished memories he held with his father, they were all gone. "You're joking, right, Father?" Lucas asked, his voice growing increasingly hysterical. "You're the one who raised me, who adopted me from the streets and gave me a home. Please, I know you're in there. You're not just an empty shell!" Garett could only shake his head in response. "I'm sorry, kid," he said, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "I have no recollection of my past, at least not enough to share the memories that you claim to have." A voice from the doorway shattered the fragile silence, slicing through the heaviness that hung in the room. It was Lucian, leaning against the frame with furrowed brows and a concern etched deep into his features. His voice quivered with a hint of worry as he spoke, "It's probably the merciless effects of his illness," Lucian explained, his words laced with a tinge of despair. "He might have struck his head so violently that it's left him with these debilitating memory lapses." Lucas turned towards Lucian, his tear-filled eyes pleading for answers that seemed just out of reach. His voice trembled with a mixture of anguish and desperation as he asked, his words breaking with the weight of emotion, "What are we supposed to do now? How do we make him remember?" Lucian, the pillar of strength, walked over to Lucas and gently placed a comforting hand on his trembling shoulder. His voice, like a gentle breeze on a stormy night, carried a soothing warmth as he reassured, "We'll navigate this treacherous path together, my dear Lucas. We'll seek out the most skilled doctors, the most advanced treatments, and we'll give him the time he needs to heal. And in the meantime, we'll be here, unwavering in our support, every step of the way." Lucas nodded slowly, his heart aching with the weight of sorrow that seemed to engulf the room. The man lying in the bed before him bore the resemblance of his father, the sound of his voice still echoed with familiarity, but he was a mere shadow of his former self. He had become someone new, someone different, someone they had to learn how to love all over again. Abruptly, Lucas stood, brushing Lucian's comforting hand off his shoulder with a force fueled by the storm brewing within him. "I need some air!" he exclaimed, pushing past everyone in his path, his voice thick with frustration and anguish. "Lucas, wait!" Lee pleaded, taking a step towards him, but Garett gently held his trembling hand, his voice filled with a wisdom beyond his years. "Let him be. He needs this," Garett advised, his eyes filled with understanding, knowing that sometimes, space was the only solace one could find. You disagreed with Garett's decision, feeling the urgency of the situation, and you quietly trailed behind Lucas. Claire on the otherhand, her face are etched with conflicting emotions, stepped aside, contemplating whether to offer solace or grant him the tranquility he sought. Variel, tears glistening in his eyes, stood in the corner, his heart shattered by the realization that nothing was more painful than the knowledge that your own father no longer recognized you. As you followed Lucas out of the room, your senses were immediately overwhelmed by the heaviness in the air. The tension in Lucas' shoulders was palpable, a physical manifestation of the burden weighing on his heart. It was as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him, and you knew that nothing you said or did could ease the pain he was feeling. Still, you hoped that your presence would offer some kind of comfort, a small respite from the storm raging inside him. The two of you walked in silence, the only sound breaking the stillness being the soft rustling of leaves beneath your feet. It was a melancholic melody, a symphony of sorrow echoing through the empty courtyard. Lucas marched forward, his steps purposeful and determined, as if seeking solace in the vacant space. The wind whipped his hair around his face, the strands dancing in wild abandon, mirroring the chaos within him. You followed at a respectful distance, understanding the need to give him space, yet remaining close enough to offer your silent support. Finally, Lucas stopped, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he let out a long, ragged sigh. You stood there, a silent observer, waiting for him to break the silence. His voice, rough with emotion, carried on the wind as he uttered words heavy with pain and confusion. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked, his voice trembling with vulnerability. "How am I supposed to live like this? Watching him waste away? Not knowing if he'll ever be the same again?" You find yourself drawn into the depths of Lucas' once-vibrant eyes, captivated by the transformation they have undergone. They were once a mesmerizing hue, akin to the clear blue sky on a sunny day, radiating joy and tranquility. But now, they bear a misty shade of blue, almost resembling a somber grey. These eyes are brimming with pain and uncertainty, as if they have witnessed the weight of the world's sorrows. If the eyes truly serve as windows to the soul, a mere glance into Lucas' reveals the profound brokenness within. It's as though the very essence of his being has been marred by unseen scars, hidden behind that facade of composure he desperately clings to. Even the way he carries himself has changed. He no longer walks with the confident stride you once knew. Instead, he carries his head low, as if trying to hide within his own shadow. His shoulders, once squared with determination, now sag under the heavy burden of whatever haunts him. Every step seems labored, as if he's traversing a treacherous path of his own making. Your heart ached for Lucas, for the anguish etched into every word, but you didn't have an answer. So, you stayed quiet, giving him the space to vent his frustrations, to release the pent-up emotions that threatened to consume him. As he paced back and forth, his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, you watched his internal storm swirl around him, the tempest of emotions raging on. "You know what the worst part is?" Lucas continued, his voice cracking with a mix of anger and despair. "The worst part is that he doesn't even remember me anymore. All those memories we shared... they're gone. He looks at me like I'm a stranger." His words pierced your heart, and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. The pain in Lucas' voice was too raw, too real to ignore. You took a step closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, hoping to offer some form of comfort. "I know it's hard, Lucas," you said softly, your voice filled with empathy. "But you're not alone in this. We're all here for you, for your family." Lucas turned to look at you, his anger and annoyance directed towards you. In a moment of overwhelming emotion, he grabbed your clothes by the chest, his grip tight and unyielding. His touch was painful, his fingers digging into your skin, but you understood that his anger wasn't truly directed at you. It was a cry for help, a desperate plea for understanding. "Easy for you to say! He knows you!" Lucas spat, his voice laced with bitterness. "He remembers you, a nobody, a stranger from an unknown land!" The biting words stung you like a slap in the face, but you stood your ground, refusing to back down. "I understand," you said gently, carefully removing Lucas' hands from your chest. "I really do. It's not fair that you've lost your father, and that's not something that can be fixed overnight. You've lost someone you care about, and it's understandable that you're frustrated and angry." Lucas' grip loosened, but he didn't let go of you completely. His anger began to give way to grief. "It's so unfair," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "He's all I have left, and now he's gone." Your eyes misted with tears, your heart aching in sympathy. "You have friends, Lucas," you said, trying to offer him some solace. "I'm here for you." You could see the turmoil on his face, the conflicting emotions battling within him. A hint of amusement danced in his eyes, an indicator of his volatile mood. He tried to hide his anguish, his fingers clenching and unclenching in a nervous gesture on your clothes. But as you looked into Lucas' eyes, you saw the hurt and desperation, the sheer weight of his pain. Then, just as suddenly as it had come, his grip on you became slack, and he collapsed into your arms. All the pent-up emotions he had been keeping inside came rushing out in a torrent of tears and pain. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." he sobbed, his voice filled with anguish. He held onto you as if you were his anchor in a turbulent sea. The weight of his sorrow pressed against you, but you held him close, offering the solace he needed. "It's alright, Lucas! Let it out!" you cooed, your arms wrapped tightly around him. He clung to you, his tears soaking your shoulder as he let out the pain he had been bottling up for so long. "It's just so hard... so damn hard," he whimpered, his body trembling with the force of his emotions. "I've lost so much... so many memories... so many people I care about." ou held Lucas as he sobbed, offering him whatever comfort you could. And in that vulnerable moment, he tearfully confessed his deepest fears. "Ever since I was young, I've felt like a bad omen, a curse to those around me," he admitted. "Everyone I love seems to get hurt or abandoned, and I feel so helpless because I can never stop the pain from coming. I can still hear their screams, their pleas, my name echoing in their agony." "Everything I touch turns to ash!" Lucas sobbed, his body wracked with shudders, his tears streaming down his face. "I thought I would have a chance to have my own father, a chance to be with my family. But now... he's just a stranger. A man who doesn't know me. Someone who will never be the same again." Your own tears mingled with his as you held him, your heart breaking for his pain. The room seemed to close in around both of you, the weight of your emotions threatening to suffocate. But still, you clung to each other, finding solace in the shared grief. Suddenly, Lucas withdrew himself from the embrace, his voice shaky as he apologized for his outburst. He sniffed and wiped the tears from his eyes with his gauntlet, exhaling heavily, his face etched with sorrow. "I do need a moment alone," he said, his voice filled with vulnerability. "My father's death is still too fresh, and I'm not sure if I'm ready to face him like this." "It's okay, Lucas. I understand," you responded gently, your voice filled with reassurance. "Take all the time you need, and we'll be here to support you." He nodded slowly, his eyes red from tears and exhaustion. And then, with a heavy sigh, Lucas looked into your eyes, his emotions palpable, his posture rigid with tension. "You know," he said shakily, "I'm really grateful for your company, but I fear that if you knew the true me, you would run away. I'm afraid of losing you too and the others." he sat down on the ground and you sat down beside him. "Well, let's change that! Let's start with trust, which means we'll have to be open and honest with each other. So, Lucas, what do you want to tell me?" you ask, intrigued by his confession. Lucas hesitates, his body trembling with nervousness. A storm of emotions plays across his face, a hint of resignation flickering in his eyes. His voice quivers as he begins to speak, his vulnerability on full display. "The truth is, I'm not the hero that people see me as," he admits, his voice laced with regret. "In the past, I did unspeakable things just to survive." he looks at you, expecting judgment from you. Your heart skips a beat, captivated by his confession. You lean in closer, urging him to continue. "What things?" you gently prod, your voice filled with compassion and understanding. Lucas's voice falters as the weight of his past bears down on him. "I... I killed people," he reveals, his words hanging heavily in the air. The air falls silent, and you can almost hear the echo of his admission reverberating through your soul. Tears well up in his eyes, threatening to spill over. "Oh, Lucas," you murmur, stunned by his honesty. The enormity of his confession hits you like a punch to the gut. But instead of judgment, you offer him solace, a safe space to unburden his guilt. "You were only trying to survive. It wasn't your fault, and it certainly wasn't a crime. The world can be cruel, and you did what you had to do." Lucas shakes his head, his tears now flowing freely. Laughter bubbles up from within him, mingling with his sobs. It's a haunting sound, filled with pain and self-loathing. "Still, you see the good in me," he whispers, his voice laced with admiration. "But what if I told you that when I took their lives, I loved every single moment of it? What if I reveled in their blood, relished the feeling of their bones snapping under my might? Would you still think of me as human? Or would you finally see the monster that I truly am?" @@#Hello; ''//"<<link "Lucas! I still see you as my friend. A loyal and protective friend that the citizens of Tiara hold dear in their hearts">><<replace "#Hello">> You let out a weary sigh, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon your shoulders. Your gaze meets Lucas', determined to convey the depth of your feelings. "Lucas, my dear friend," you begin, your voice steady but laced with emotion, "despite the mistakes you may have made in the past, I will always see you as the loyal and protective friend that the citizens of Tiara hold dear in their hearts." Lucas's eyes flicker with a mixture of awe and reverence, but his response is laced with bitter sarcasm. "Oh, how naive you are," he scoffs, his words dripping with cynicism. "If only you truly knew the darkness that resides within me, you would not utter such pretty words. I am nothing more than a monster." You take a deep breath, fighting to steady your racing heart. The weight of the moment hangs heavy in the air, the tension palpable. "No, Lucas," you assert, your voice filled with conviction. You reach out, your hand trembling slightly, and gently place it on his shoulder. "You are not a monster. Yes, you may have committed acts of violence, but that does not define who you are as a person. It is what you do now, in this moment, that truly counts. And deep down, I know that you are a good person." Lucas shrugs off your hand, his body tense with inner turmoil. His eyes, once filled with cynicism, now brim with sadness and grief as he gazes into the distance. "I don't know," he murmurs, his voice heavy with emotion. "I'm not sure if I'm worthy of redemption, even if I try." Silence envelops the space between you, the weight of Lucas's despair hanging heavy in the air. His gaze remains fixed on some distant point, lost in the depths of his own thoughts. You search for the right words, but they seem to elude you, swallowed by the gravity of the situation. Finally, Lucas turns to you, his face pale and drawn with weariness and despair. "You know," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath, "stargazing used to be my favorite pastime as a child. I would lie down on the grass with my real family, looking up at the vast expanse of the night sky, feeling a sense of wonder and belonging." Tears welled up in Lucas's eyes as he continued to share the raw pain that had haunted him for so long. "Ironic because when my family died, I looked at the stars for answers," he admitted, his voice trembling. "And when I couldn't find them, I got angry. Angry at the universe, at fate, at whatever force controls the world. I wished I had fallen too. Maybe it would have hurt less if I had." Your heart clenched with empathy, and tears spilled down your cheeks. "Lucas, it's not your fault," you said softly, placing a gentle hand on his shaking shoulder. "I think your family would be very proud of the man you've become. You've suffered through so much, and yet you've still managed to remain kind and compassionate. They would be proud to call you their son." "My parents would be disappointed to see what I've become," Lucas said, his voice trembling with emotion. "They always taught me to do the right thing, and I'm the furthest thing from that." "Even so, they loved you," you insisted, trying to help him see the positive in his life. "And they wouldn't want you to be so hard on yourself." Lucas shook his head, his face contorted in a look of defeat. "Maybe you're right," he agreed. "If maybe Garett remembered me, maybe I wouldn't go on with my quest to take Claire's life. But seeing him like that, it only fueled my resolve to strangle her with my very own hands!" Lucas clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. "It hurts so much to let go, those memories keep haunting me, but it's for the best. For our friends, for our family, I need to take my revenge and avenge them." You felt the weight of Lucas's words pressing down on you, and you knew that he was trapped in a world of grief and anger. "I understand your pain," you said softly, trying to offer him comfort. "But remember, it's not too late to change." Lucas laughed, a bitter sound filled with disdain and disbelief. "It's too late for me!" he declared. "However! The question is, will you stop me from fulfilling my objective?" He pointed a finger at you, his eyes brimming with challenge and determination. You pondered Lucas's words, understanding that his quest for revenge was wrong, and it would only lead to more death and destruction. But you also knew his pain and grief were not something that could easily be dismissed. "I will not stop you from seeking justice for your family, Lucas," you said, your voice filled with empathy. "But I will be at your side, always reminding you that there's a better path than this." Lucas smiled fondly at you. "Thank you for your support and companionship! But can you actually hold me back if I get fully angry and unleash my wrath?" He pointed his finger at you. "We will cross that bridge when we get there!" you said to him, a sense of determination in your own voice. Deep down, you wondered if you could truly stop him, or if it might cost you everything in the process. As you glanced towards Lucas, you couldn't help but notice the turmoil reflected in his eyes. The conflict within him was palpable, a battle between his desire to honor his family and seek justice, and the consuming anger that had taken hold of him. It was as if his quest for revenge had become a voracious fire, devouring everything in its path. His anger had transformed into a heavy burden, weighing him down like an anchor, trapping him in a never-ending cycle of pain and grief. Standing beside Lucas, you could feel the intensity of his emotions. "<<print $player_name>>, I can't express how thankful I am for your words," he said, gratitude evident in his voice. "But right now, I need to be left alone." Lucas took a few determined steps forward, distancing himself from you. As he did, you instinctively reached out your hand, a silent gesture of support. However, acknowledging his need for space, you sighed and let your hand fall to your side. Determined to focus on the mission and the impending battle, you tried to push aside the ache in your heart caused by Lucas's withdrawal. But then, unexpectedly, Lucas halted in his tracks and turned around to face you. The expression on his face was a mix of wistfulness and longing as he spoke, his voice tinged with regret. "You know, if we had met under different circumstances... you and I could have become fast friends." A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you met Lucas's gaze with warmth in your eyes. "Who knows? Maybe if you give me a second chance, we still could," you replied, adding a playful wink to your words. In that moment, you saw Lucas's lips curl into a small smile, a glimmer of hope shining through the darkness within him. But as quickly as the smile appeared, it faded, replaced by a distant gaze that betrayed the weight of his memories and the burden of guilt he carried. His eyes softened with a mixture of anguish and pain, and for a fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of the lost soul within him. It was as if he were standing at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take or how to find solace. "Heh! Maybe we'll become more than just friends," Lucas teased, attempting to mask the pain he felt with a playful tone. You returned his smile, but you couldn't ignore the inner conflict he was grappling with. He was battling his own demons, and it was clear that healing would be a gradual process for him. Nevertheless, a glimmer of hope remained, a desire to find a path out of the darkness. With that, he turned and left you alone to contemplate the events of the day. As Lucas turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you alone in the stillness of the night, you turned your gaze to the sky. The darkness above seemed to mirror the uncertainty that lay ahead. Lost in your thoughts, you realized how quickly time had slipped away, the hours passing unnoticed as you were consumed by recent events. Deciding it was time to retreat and seek the rest you so desperately needed, you turned towards the familiar warmth of shelter. Each step you took echoed with the weight of the day's experiences, the conflicting emotions and heartbreaking moments replaying in your mind. [[Next|Luna Meeting MC]] <</replace>><</link>>"//'' "''//<<link "Your right! Your a monster!">><<replace "#Hello">> In the depths of your being, a whirlwind of emotions swirls, leaving you unsure of what exactly you're feeling. Is it anger? Annoyance? Exhaustion? Whatever it is, it has ignited a fire within you, fueling your frustration towards Lucas. You can't help but think that his reasons are shallow, that almost everyone experiences what he's going through. And so, without a second thought, you snap at him, letting your words cut through the air like a sharp blade. "You know what, maybe you're right!" The words escape your lips, dripping with sarcasm and bitterness. "Maybe you're a monster!" The weight of your frustration hangs heavy in the air, each word filled with the weight of your disappointment and disdain. To his credit, Lucas doesn't react with anger or defensiveness. Instead, he simply smiles sadly at you, a look of understanding in his eyes. "I... thank you for your honesty," he says, his voice filled with gratitude. "See, this was the side of me that no one wants to see, except you. I guess I was blinded by the hope of having my father back that I forgot who I was." You study Lucas, taking in his appearance, his eyes filled with an indescribable emptiness that sends shivers down your spine. It's a haunting emptiness, one that speaks volumes about the depths of his loss. He wasn't lying. Lucas had not only lost his memories but also a part of himself that made him the person you had come to know. In that moment, the weight of his burden becomes clear, and you can't help but feel a surge of horror at the realization of what the gods have done to him. Breaking the heavy silence, Lucas lets out a half-hearted laugh, as if trying to dismiss the gravity of the situation. "Hey now, don't let it get to you," he says, shaking his head and shrugging. "This is who I am." His voice carries a tinge of resignation, as if he's accepted his fate. "But I suppose we all have our own inner demons." You stand there, lost for words, your mind racing to process this new information. Is he really a monster? The question echoes in your mind, bouncing off the walls of your thoughts. "I didn't mean it like that!" you exclaim, rubbing your face in frustration. The stress and emotions swirling within you become overwhelming, threatening to consume you entirely. As you struggle to find your footing in this tumultuous moment. The air feels heavy, suffocating, as if it's mirroring the weight of your emotions. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but it feels as if the very atmosphere is pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe. The storm of anger and frustration that had engulfed you just moments ago now gave way to a profound sense of shock and awe. Lucas's response was unexpectedly calm and understanding, and it left you momentarily speechless. "It's okay, MC. You had every right to be angry," Lucas said in a soft, gentle voice. "Don't beat yourself up about it." His eyes, now devoid of tears, held a glimmer of understanding, as if he had battled similar emotions in the past. "You were just speaking the truth, after all. We all have our own inner demons, even me." Lucas's voice remained steady, even as the weight of his confession hung heavily in the air. Your anger and frustration dissipated rapidly, replaced by a profound sense of regret. "I'm so sorry, Lucas. I didn't mean to lash out like that," you apologized, your voice filled with sincerity. "You were being vulnerable, and I..." Lucas interrupted your apology with reassuring words, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. "It's alright, <<print $player_name>>. Don't worry about it," he said, his tone calm and accepting. "You weren't the first person to call me a monster, and you probably won't be the last." There was a sadness in his eyes, a hint of resignation that tugged at your heart. But then, he blinked and turned his gaze away from you. "Just know that I really appreciate you being here for me," he said quietly, his vulnerability shining through. "And maybe one day, we can talk about this again." You smiled, recognizing the fragility in his voice and the sincerity of his gratitude. An urge to offer him comfort and solidarity welled up within you, but you decided that sometimes the smallest gestures of kindness spoke the loudest. So, you simply nodded, understanding that in that moment, your presence and understanding meant the world to him. Lucas stands up to his feet and you rose along side him, you could feel the intensity of his emotions. "<<print $player_name>>, I can't express how thankful I am for your words," he said, gratitude evident in his voice. "But right now, I need to be left alone." Lucas took a few determined steps forward, distancing himself from you. As he did, you instinctively reached out your hand, a silent gesture of support. However, acknowledging his need for space, you sighed and let your hand fall to your side. Determined to focus on the mission and the impending battle, you tried to push aside the ache in your heart caused by Lucas's withdrawal. But then, unexpectedly, Lucas halted in his tracks and turned around to face you. The expression on his face was a mix of wistfulness and longing as he spoke, his voice tinged with regret. "You know, if we had met under different circumstances... you and I could have become fast friends." A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you met Lucas's gaze with warmth in your eyes. "Who knows? Maybe if you give me a second chance, we still could," you replied, adding a playful wink to your words. In that moment, you saw Lucas's lips curl into a small smile, a glimmer of hope shining through the darkness within him. But as quickly as the smile appeared, it faded, replaced by a distant gaze that betrayed the weight of his memories and the burden of guilt he carried. His eyes softened with a mixture of anguish and pain, and for a fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of the lost soul within him. It was as if he were standing at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take or how to find solace. "Heh! Maybe we'll become more than just friends," Lucas teased, attempting to mask the pain he felt with a playful tone. You returned his smile, but you couldn't ignore the inner conflict he was grappling with. He was battling his own demons, and it was clear that healing would be a gradual process for him. Nevertheless, a glimmer of hope remained, a desire to find a path out of the darkness. With that, he turned and left you alone to contemplate the events of the day. As Lucas turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you alone in the stillness of the night, you turned your gaze to the sky. The darkness above seemed to mirror the uncertainty that lay ahead. Lost in your thoughts, you realized how quickly time had slipped away, the hours passing unnoticed as you were consumed by recent events. Deciding it was time to retreat and seek the rest you so desperately needed, you turned towards the familiar warmth of shelter. Each step you took echoed with the weight of the day's experiences, the conflicting emotions and heartbreaking moments replaying in your mind. [[Next|Luna Meeting MC]] <</replace>><</link>>"//'' @@

You run your fingers along the fabric of your clothing, a sly smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you take a leisurely sip from your half-empty glass. "Are you absolutely certain that it's not you who's utterly impressed by what you see before you?" You raise an eyebrow at Serena's flirtatious statement, your gaze locking onto hers with a hint of playful challenge. Serena remains undeterred, her hand coming to rest delicately on her chest as she speaks in a sultry tone. "I think I may have died, for what I see in front of me is an Angel from above," she purrs, her eyes smoldering with intensity. Your chuckle ripples through the air as you gulp down the remnants of your drink in a single bold motion, the liquid burning a trail down your throat.. "Ah, but you see me as an Angel, while I, my dear, see you as the Devil!" The words tumble from your lips with a mixture of jest and teasing. A wide grin spreads across Serena's face, but in that split second, you catch a flash of hurt in her eyes. It's gone as quickly as it appeared. You raise your hand, extending five fingers, ready to make your case. "D for Dangerous," you begin, your voice low and captivating. "E for Exotic," you continue, emphasizing each letter with a deliberate pause. "V for Voluptuous," you say, your eyes tracing the curves of her body. "I for Interesting," you add, genuinely intrigued by her every word. "And L for Loving," you conclude, your tone softening. A pause hangs in the air, a pregnant moment of anticipation, before you deliver the punch-line of your statement. "But above all, irresistibly tempting!" You punctuate your words with a playful wink aimed squarely at Serena. Her laughter fills the space between you, a melodic sound that dances on the air like a secret shared between kindred spirits. "I do say that was witty and oh-so-smooth!" Serena offers her hearty praise, her eyes sparkling with amusement and appreciation for your playful banter. Your response to Serena's flirtatious banter is met with a playful tilt of your head and a bow of deference. "I'm here to be entertained," you reply with a twinkle in your eye. "Do share your charming pick-up lines with me, Serena." Her eyes light up, and a mischievous grin graces her lips. "Oh, you're in for a treat, my dear MC!" She playfully winks at you. "Prepare to be charmed." You scoff at her confident assertion and raise a finger, gesturing for her to go ahead. "I'll be the judge of their charms," you declare with a sly grin, fully embracing the playful exchange. Serena chuckles heartily, her laughter a delightful melody in the air. "Very well then! Brace yourself, for here comes my first masterpiece." She clears her throat dramatically before launching into her pick-up line. "All of my travels I have seen the world, but there is one thing that I'm dying to see—a sight so beautiful that words cannot describe." Serena's voice takes on a seductive tone as she continues, her gaze roaming theatrically. "Your bedsheet covered in snow, awaiting your pleasure, ready to make you shiver and scream for more." A moment of silence hangs in the air, and then a snicker escapes your lips, quickly escalating into a full-blown fit of laughter. "That was shockingly embarrassing and horrifying!" you exclaim, struggling to catch your breath amid the laughter. However, you're not one to back down from a challenge, and you compose yourself, determined to reciprocate with a memorable line of your own. You gracefully accept a fresh glass of a drink from a passing servant's tray, taking a slow, deliberate sip as you lock eyes with Serena. With unwavering confidence, you weave a seductive web of words. "You know me, Serena. I've seen it all, I've heard it all, and yet, there's one thing that makes me weak in the knees, that makes me tremble with desire." You pause for effect, leaning closer until your lips are mere inches from hers. "It's the anticipation, the longing, the desperate need to be touched, held, and cherished, like a virgin touched for the very first time!" Serena's breath hitches, and her eyes widen in surprise. "Now, that, dear <<print $player_name>>, is seductive," she concedes, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If ever there was a technique I'd consider using, that would be it." But Serena isn't one to back down easily, and she cracks her knuckles with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "That's good, but you haven't heard my best yet!" She declares boldly. "On the surface, I'm a charmer and a tease. But underneath the layers, I'm a savage and a thrill-seeker." She pauses, tapping her fingers on the table, her gaze narrowing with playful mischief. "How about you? Which kind of layers do you fancy? The tip or the bottom?" She smirks, pursing her lips, her eyes locked onto yours in a challenge. As Serena boldly challenges you with her words, a mischievous grin dances on your lips. You can't help but chuckle, thoroughly entertained by her audacity. It's a game of seduction, a verbal match where the stakes are high and the tension palpable. You meet her gaze with a glint of deviltry, your voice laced with a teasing tone. "How can I possibly choose," you begin, your words dripping with desire, "when I want to devour every inch of you? From head to toe, I want to nibble and bite, slowly savoring each and every drop of your intoxicating taste." Your voice lilts with anticipation, the promise of pleasure hanging in the air. Serena raises her chin, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. She's clearly enjoying the verbal dance, reveling in the challenge. "That sounds more like a threat than a seduction, dear <<print $player_name>>," she retorts, her voice filled with playful defiance. Clicking your tongue, you lean in closer, a wicked grin spreading across your lips. Your gaze drifts lower, unabashedly taking in her curves, making your intentions crystal clear. "So you want a threat? Maybe, just maybe, if you're a good girl, I might give you a taste of something dangerous," you say, your words laced with a suggestive tone that sends a shiver down Serena's spine. A smirk tugs at your lips as Serena raises an eyebrow, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "And what if I refuse to be obedient?" she challenges, a mischievous sparkle in her gaze. Leaning even closer, your voice drops to a low, dangerous drawl. "Perhaps then, I might become violent and forceful," you say, your tone laced with a hint of danger. "I'll take advantage of your pliant body, sink my teeth into your flesh, and feast on your juices until you're left spent and shaking." The words spill forth, a dark promise that hangs heavy in the air. Serena nods approvingly, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "Bravo, bravo," she congratulates, clearly reveling in the dark allure of your words. "Now, it's my turn." Her gaze locks onto yours, a sense of smug superiority shining in her eyes. She gestures towards you, seeking permission to unleash her own seductive arsenal. Your narrowed gaze and defiant challenge only ignite her confidence further. "You think you're ready?" you taunt, your voice dripping with anticipation. The air crackles with tension as Serena scoffs, rolling her eyes with dramatic flair. "Please, I was born ready!" she declares, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Her eyes dart back to yours, a glimmer of mischief dancing within them. "I've got so many lines, I could fill a book with them," she boasts, her voice filled with playful bravado. You scoff, not one to back down from a challenge. "Then don't just stand there," you urge, your voice laced with anticipation. "Blow me away with your top one-liner! Let me hear you roar, Serena! Let your inner beast come out to play!" Her smile broadens, a sense of confidence radiating from her. She takes a step towards you, her gaze locked onto yours, as if she's ready to conquer the world with her words. "The sun... The moon... The stars!" Serena begins, her voice tinged with a captivating, almost poetic quality. Each word that escapes her lips seems to carry the weight of the universe. "Above the clouds, they reign supreme, but in that time I spent with you, my passion burned with a fiery intensity. I was a shooting star, a blazing comet, destined for greatness." Excitement lights up Serena's eyes as she continues, her words pouring forth like a waterfall. "And when I saw the world beneath my feet, I knew I had to have you. To kiss you, to devour you with my deepest desires." Her voice intensifies, filled with raw and primal desire that electrifies the atmosphere. "Yet, every time I'm with you, my stomach flutters like a wild butterfly," Serena confesses, her voice trembling with a mixture of desire and intensity. "My mind is filled with thoughts of your touch, your fingertips grazing my skin, and I can hardly control my breathing. My heart pounds with a fierce, visceral desire." As she speaks, Serena raises her arms, her hands reaching towards you with a sense of anticipation. The air crackles with an electrifying energy, and you can feel the magnetic pull between you grow stronger. "I want to hold you close and taste your lips," Serena continues, her voice filled with longing. "But I fear your eyes might swallow me whole. Still, I'm willing to risk it all. For a chance to be with you, to be touched by you, to feel your warmth on my skin, to taste your breath on my tongue, I will surrender my heart and soul." As the silence hangs in the air, a fleeting and blissful moment, you lock eyes with Serena, both of you caught in the gravity of the moment. It's a moment that feels like eternity, where time stands still and the world fades away. Suddenly, Serena breaks the silence, her laughter ringing out with an air of enchantment. "Don't even think about telling me how corny or cheesy that was, <<print $player_name>>," she playfully warns. "Because no matter how good I am, you will always have an answer for it!" A mischievous glint dances in your eyes as you snicker. "Well, you're right," you admit, a sense of anticipation building. "Because I have one ace up my sleeve." The excitement in your voice catches Serena's attention, and she tilts her head with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. "And what is that?" Serena asks, her eyes fixed on you, her voice tinged with a touch of challenge and intrigue. The stage is set, and the game of seduction continues. In the midst of your playful exchange, you decided to deliver your pièce de résistance, a pick-up line that would leave a lasting impression on Serena. The world around you seemed to fade into the background as you focused solely on her, your eyes burning with intensity. "Your heart is mine," you declared in a low, commanding voice that sent shivers down Serena's spine. Your tone was both inviting and passionate, drawing her in like a moth to a flame. The heat of your gaze left her breathless, and she felt the world around her vanish as she became the sole focus of your attention. "From this day forth, I shall protect and cherish it," you continued, your words carrying a promise of devotion and ardor. A deliberate pause followed, allowing the weight of your words to settle in the air. "Now come closer, and let me show you what a real love feels like." With a single finger, you gently lifted her chin, aligning her lips with yours. Serena's eyes widened with surprise as you pulled her closer, and in that instant, all her inhibitions melted away. Fear and doubt evaporated, leaving only the sweet intoxication of a passionate embrace. Just as your lips were about to meet hers, you withdrew with a sly smile. "Although!" you added, your voice teasing, "I think I will leave you with a hunger. You know what they say, 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder.'" You eased back, the phantom touch of your lips brushing against hers, leaving Serena in a state of longing. With a gentle touch, you tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and whispered softly, your voice filled with anticipation, "I will be waiting for you to come back for me." Serena sighed, her heart in her eyes as she looked up at you. "That was perhaps the most seductive pick-up line I have ever heard and by far the cruelest," she admitted with a coy and defeated smile. You couldn't help but chuckle, a hint of mischief in your eyes as you winked at her. "Let's just say, I've had some experience."But I fear that I must cut our conversation short!" she says bowing her head in a mocking manner and turning around, leaving you alone. Lost in your thoughts, you are suddenly jolted back to reality by a voice cutting through the silence like a sharp blade. "<<print $player_name>>!" The voice belongs to Lee, a trusted friend and confidant. He approaches you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hmm, I see that Serena has left quite an impression on you," he muses, his voice brimming with amusement. "But don't worry, <<print $player_name>>. She's not worth your attention. In fact, she's not even worthy of anyone's trust." You glance at Lee, disbelief and confusion evident in your eyes. You can't help but wonder if he's merely joking or if there's some truth to his words. "Is she really that despicable?" you ask, your voice filled with uncertainty. Lee shakes his head, his expression grave. "Despicable is an understatement, <<print $player_name>>. Serena is a living, breathing nightmare. Many people, especially men, have fallen under her spell, only to be discarded like chopped liver once she gets what she wants." Placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, Lee's voice softens with compassion. "Don't let her get to you, <<print $player_name>>. She's not worth it. Besides, I want you to meet Garett. The gang is all there, and I came back just to fetch you!" He winks at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'll always have your back, <<print $player_name>>. Loyalty until death, you know. And I can tell you're not into her. I won't let some vain, egotistical woman come between you and your happiness." Lee's words echo in your mind, causing a lump to form in your throat. The idea of love, of finding someone to share your life with, still feels like a distant dream. But in this moment, with Lee by your side, you feel a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, amidst the chaos and uncertainty of your new life, there is room for love and connection. Lee clasps your shoulder and leads you away from the bustling event, guiding you through a labyrinth of hallways. The sounds of laughter and music grow distant, replaced by the soft echo of your footsteps. The air becomes cooler, carrying with it a subtle hint of pine, offering a soothing balm to your troubled mind. Lee gestures for you to follow, and you trail behind him, captivated by his confident strides. Silently following his lead, you found yourself enveloped in contemplation once more. The questions about your new life and its purpose weighed on your mind. But rather than dwell on uncertainties, you decided to initiate a conversation to break the silence. "So, how's Garret?" you inquired, eager to shift the focus. Lee's voice breaks the silence, his words dripping with excitement. "Garrett, oh, he's doing well. I think Lucas will finally relent on his vendetta quest and make peace with him. It will be a sight to see," Lee says, chuckling to himself. He continues walking with a gleeful bounce in his step. He led you through a heavy wooden door, its ancient hinges groaning in protest. As you stepped into the dimly lit corridor, a cool breeze brushed against your skin, carrying with it a gentle scent of pine. The air was tinged with a comforting familiarity, a balm to your stressed-out mind. It felt like a respite from the chaos that had consumed your life. Lee, with a weariness etched in every line of his face, gestured for you to follow him. His strides were confident, but you could sense the weight he carried on his shoulders. It mirrored your own burden, the responsibility of saving an entire world and preventing the unraveling of time. Empathy swelled within you as you trailed behind him, matching his steps. Turning a corner, Lee's eyes brightened and a wide grin spread across his face. You followed eagerly, anticipation building within you. The sound of hushed voices grew louder as you approached a group of four people waiting outside a door. Lucas, with his rigid posture and tense expression, exuded an aura of tension that seemed to permeate the air. His emotions weighed heavily, threatening to unbalance you. "<<print $player_name>>!" he greeted you cordially, but there was an underlying unease in his voice. Variel, standing toward the back, attempted to blend into the shadows, her presence almost invisible. Lucian leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes scanning the room for any potential threats. Clara, seemingly unaffected by the heavy atmosphere, welcomed you with a warm smile. "It's good to see you, <<print $player_name>>," she said, her voice a soothing melody amidst the tension. Before you could respond, Lee ushered you inside the room, his grip firm on your shoulder. The space was small, a vase of vibrant flowers sitting atop a delicate table. Sunlight poured in through an open window, casting a gentle glow over the scene. But your attention was drawn to the figure lying on the bed, engrossed in a book. "Lee! Your ba-" he put down the book on his lap and eyes widened in surprised at the sudden arrival of guests. "Surprised, sweetie!" Lee exclaimed happily, sauntering toward Garett and planting an affectionate kiss on his head, their interaction radiating warmth and familiarity. As you stood at the door, watching the scene unfold before your eyes, a voice broke the silence. "Who's that?" Garett asked, pointing in your direction. . "Come on in! Don't be shy," another man named Lee beckoned, gesturing for you to come closer. With cautious steps, you made your way towards the pair. However, as you approached, you couldn't help but notice a fleeting look of apprehension flash across the face of a man named Garett. It was unclear whether he was happy to see you or simply annoyed by your unexpected arrival. "I'm <<print $player_name>>!" you introduced yourself, trying to break the tension that hung in the air. Garett nodded in recognition. "Ahh! The Chosen One I have heard so much about," he said, a smile forming on his face. "Also not to mention your the one who tamed Beatrice!" he laughs heartily at that. "The way you coo at her!" Suddenly, Lucas tapped your shoulder, drawing your attention away from Garett. You turned around, only to find Lucas looking distraught. "Excuse me," he said, his voice filled with urgency as he made his way towards the bedside. Lucas knelt down, taking hold of his father's hand. Lee placed a comforting hand on Lucas' shoulder, offering his support. "Father, it's me," Lucas began, his voice trembling. "I miss you so much." Garett's eyes welled up with tears, a sudden display of emotion that took everyone in the room by surprise, except for Lee. He sobbed softly, his voice choked with sorrow. "I'm sorry, but I don't know you. I don't remember you at all," he confessed, tears streaming down his face as he sniffled. "I don't remember any single one of you, and I don't remember any of the memories you're talking about. You must have mistaken me for someone else." Lucas felt a sharp pain pierce his heart. The sudden realization struck him like a lightning bolt, and he could feel his chest constrict with anxiety and dread. All the moments of closeness, the cherished memories he held with his father, they were all gone. "You're joking, right, Father?" Lucas asked, his voice growing increasingly hysterical. "You're the one who raised me, who adopted me from the streets and gave me a home. Please, I know you're in there. You're not just an empty shell!" Garett could only shake his head in response. "I'm sorry, kid," he said, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "I have no recollection of my past, at least not enough to share the memories that you claim to have." A voice from the doorway shattered the fragile silence, slicing through the heaviness that hung in the room. It was Lucian, leaning against the frame with furrowed brows and a concern etched deep into his features. His voice quivered with a hint of worry as he spoke, "It's probably the merciless effects of his illness," Lucian explained, his words laced with a tinge of despair. "He might have struck his head so violently that it's left him with these debilitating memory lapses." Lucas turned towards Lucian, his tear-filled eyes pleading for answers that seemed just out of reach. His voice trembled with a mixture of anguish and desperation as he asked, his words breaking with the weight of emotion, "What are we supposed to do now? How do we make him remember?" Lucian, the pillar of strength, walked over to Lucas and gently placed a comforting hand on his trembling shoulder. His voice, like a gentle breeze on a stormy night, carried a soothing warmth as he reassured, "We'll navigate this treacherous path together, my dear Lucas. We'll seek out the most skilled doctors, the most advanced treatments, and we'll give him the time he needs to heal. And in the meantime, we'll be here, unwavering in our support, every step of the way." Lucas nodded slowly, his heart aching with the weight of sorrow that seemed to engulf the room. The man lying in the bed before him bore the resemblance of his father, the sound of his voice still echoed with familiarity, but he was a mere shadow of his former self. He had become someone new, someone different, someone they had to learn how to love all over again. Abruptly, Lucas stood, brushing Lucian's comforting hand off his shoulder with a force fueled by the storm brewing within him. "I need some air!" he exclaimed, pushing past everyone in his path, his voice thick with frustration and anguish. "Lucas, wait!" Lee pleaded, taking a step towards him, but Garett gently held his trembling hand, his voice filled with a wisdom beyond his years. "Let him be. He needs this," Garett advised, his eyes filled with understanding, knowing that sometimes, space was the only solace one could find. You disagreed with Garett's decision, feeling the urgency of the situation, and you quietly trailed behind Lucas. Claire on the otherhand, her face are etched with conflicting emotions, stepped aside, contemplating whether to offer solace or grant him the tranquility he sought. Variel, tears glistening in his eyes, stood in the corner, his heart shattered by the realization that nothing was more painful than the knowledge that your own father no longer recognized you. As you followed Lucas out of the room, your senses were immediately overwhelmed by the heaviness in the air. The tension in Lucas' shoulders was palpable, a physical manifestation of the burden weighing on his heart. It was as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him, and you knew that nothing you said or did could ease the pain he was feeling. Still, you hoped that your presence would offer some kind of comfort, a small respite from the storm raging inside him. The two of you walked in silence, the only sound breaking the stillness being the soft rustling of leaves beneath your feet. It was a melancholic melody, a symphony of sorrow echoing through the empty courtyard. Lucas marched forward, his steps purposeful and determined, as if seeking solace in the vacant space. The wind whipped his hair around his face, the strands dancing in wild abandon, mirroring the chaos within him. You followed at a respectful distance, understanding the need to give him space, yet remaining close enough to offer your silent support. Finally, Lucas stopped, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he let out a long, ragged sigh. You stood there, a silent observer, waiting for him to break the silence. His voice, rough with emotion, carried on the wind as he uttered words heavy with pain and confusion. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked, his voice trembling with vulnerability. "How am I supposed to live like this? Watching him waste away? Not knowing if he'll ever be the same again?" You find yourself drawn into the depths of Lucas' once-vibrant eyes, captivated by the transformation they have undergone. They were once a mesmerizing hue, akin to the clear blue sky on a sunny day, radiating joy and tranquility. But now, they bear a misty shade of blue, almost resembling a somber grey. These eyes are brimming with pain and uncertainty, as if they have witnessed the weight of the world's sorrows. If the eyes truly serve as windows to the soul, a mere glance into Lucas' reveals the profound brokenness within. It's as though the very essence of his being has been marred by unseen scars, hidden behind that facade of composure he desperately clings to. Even the way he carries himself has changed. He no longer walks with the confident stride you once knew. Instead, he carries his head low, as if trying to hide within his own shadow. His shoulders, once squared with determination, now sag under the heavy burden of whatever haunts him. Every step seems labored, as if he's traversing a treacherous path of his own making. Your heart ached for Lucas, for the anguish etched into every word, but you didn't have an answer. So, you stayed quiet, giving him the space to vent his frustrations, to release the pent-up emotions that threatened to consume him. As he paced back and forth, his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, you watched his internal storm swirl around him, the tempest of emotions raging on. "You know what the worst part is?" Lucas continued, his voice cracking with a mix of anger and despair. "The worst part is that he doesn't even remember me anymore. All those memories we shared... they're gone. He looks at me like I'm a stranger." His words pierced your heart, and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. The pain in Lucas' voice was too raw, too real to ignore. You took a step closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, hoping to offer some form of comfort. "I know it's hard, Lucas," you said softly, your voice filled with empathy. "But you're not alone in this. We're all here for you, for your family." Lucas turned to look at you, his anger and annoyance directed towards you. In a moment of overwhelming emotion, he grabbed your clothes by the chest, his grip tight and unyielding. His touch was painful, his fingers digging into your skin, but you understood that his anger wasn't truly directed at you. It was a cry for help, a desperate plea for understanding. "Easy for you to say! He knows you!" Lucas spat, his voice laced with bitterness. "He remembers you, a nobody, a stranger from an unknown land!" The biting words stung you like a slap in the face, but you stood your ground, refusing to back down. "I understand," you said gently, carefully removing Lucas' hands from your chest. "I really do. It's not fair that you've lost your father, and that's not something that can be fixed overnight. You've lost someone you care about, and it's understandable that you're frustrated and angry." Lucas' grip loosened, but he didn't let go of you completely. His anger began to give way to grief. "It's so unfair," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "He's all I have left, and now he's gone." Your eyes misted with tears, your heart aching in sympathy. "You have friends, Lucas," you said, trying to offer him some solace. "I'm here for you." You could see the turmoil on his face, the conflicting emotions battling within him. A hint of amusement danced in his eyes, an indicator of his volatile mood. He tried to hide his anguish, his fingers clenching and unclenching in a nervous gesture on your clothes. But as you looked into Lucas' eyes, you saw the hurt and desperation, the sheer weight of his pain. Then, just as suddenly as it had come, his grip on you became slack, and he collapsed into your arms. All the pent-up emotions he had been keeping inside came rushing out in a torrent of tears and pain. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." he sobbed, his voice filled with anguish. He held onto you as if you were his anchor in a turbulent sea. The weight of his sorrow pressed against you, but you held him close, offering the solace he needed. "It's alright, Lucas! Let it out!" you cooed, your arms wrapped tightly around him. He clung to you, his tears soaking your shoulder as he let out the pain he had been bottling up for so long. "It's just so hard... so damn hard," he whimpered, his body trembling with the force of his emotions. "I've lost so much... so many memories... so many people I care about." ou held Lucas as he sobbed, offering him whatever comfort you could. And in that vulnerable moment, he tearfully confessed his deepest fears. "Ever since I was young, I've felt like a bad omen, a curse to those around me," he admitted. "Everyone I love seems to get hurt or abandoned, and I feel so helpless because I can never stop the pain from coming. I can still hear their screams, their pleas, my name echoing in their agony." "Everything I touch turns to ash!" Lucas sobbed, his body wracked with shudders, his tears streaming down his face. "I thought I would have a chance to have my own father, a chance to be with my family. But now... he's just a stranger. A man who doesn't know me. Someone who will never be the same again." Your own tears mingled with his as you held him, your heart breaking for his pain. The room seemed to close in around both of you, the weight of your emotions threatening to suffocate. But still, you clung to each other, finding solace in the shared grief. Suddenly, Lucas withdrew himself from the embrace, his voice shaky as he apologized for his outburst. He sniffed and wiped the tears from his eyes with his gauntlet, exhaling heavily, his face etched with sorrow. "I do need a moment alone," he said, his voice filled with vulnerability. "My father's death is still too fresh, and I'm not sure if I'm ready to face him like this." "It's okay, Lucas. I understand," you responded gently, your voice filled with reassurance. "Take all the time you need, and we'll be here to support you." He nodded slowly, his eyes red from tears and exhaustion. And then, with a heavy sigh, Lucas looked into your eyes, his emotions palpable, his posture rigid with tension. "You know," he said shakily, "I'm really grateful for your company, but I fear that if you knew the true me, you would run away. I'm afraid of losing you too and the others." he sat down on the ground and you sat down beside him. "Well, let's change that! Let's start with trust, which means we'll have to be open and honest with each other. So, Lucas, what do you want to tell me?" you ask, intrigued by his confession. Lucas hesitates, his body trembling with nervousness. A storm of emotions plays across his face, a hint of resignation flickering in his eyes. His voice quivers as he begins to speak, his vulnerability on full display. "The truth is, I'm not the hero that people see me as," he admits, his voice laced with regret. "In the past, I did unspeakable things just to survive." he looks at you, expecting judgment from you. Your heart skips a beat, captivated by his confession. You lean in closer, urging him to continue. "What things?" you gently prod, your voice filled with compassion and understanding. Lucas's voice falters as the weight of his past bears down on him. "I... I killed people," he reveals, his words hanging heavily in the air. The air falls silent, and you can almost hear the echo of his admission reverberating through your soul. Tears well up in his eyes, threatening to spill over. "Oh, Lucas," you murmur, stunned by his honesty. The enormity of his confession hits you like a punch to the gut. But instead of judgment, you offer him solace, a safe space to unburden his guilt. "You were only trying to survive. It wasn't your fault, and it certainly wasn't a crime. The world can be cruel, and you did what you had to do." Lucas shakes his head, his tears now flowing freely. Laughter bubbles up from within him, mingling with his sobs. It's a haunting sound, filled with pain and self-loathing. "Still, you see the good in me," he whispers, his voice laced with admiration. "But what if I told you that when I took their lives, I loved every single moment of it? What if I reveled in their blood, relished the feeling of their bones snapping under my might? Would you still think of me as human? Or would you finally see the monster that I truly am?" @@#Hello; ''//"<<link "Lucas! I still see you as my friend. A loyal and protective friend that the citizens of Tiara hold dear in their hearts">><<replace "#Hello">> You let out a weary sigh, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon your shoulders. Your gaze meets Lucas', determined to convey the depth of your feelings. "Lucas, my dear friend," you begin, your voice steady but laced with emotion, "despite the mistakes you may have made in the past, I will always see you as the loyal and protective friend that the citizens of Tiara hold dear in their hearts." Lucas's eyes flicker with a mixture of awe and reverence, but his response is laced with bitter sarcasm. "Oh, how naive you are," he scoffs, his words dripping with cynicism. "If only you truly knew the darkness that resides within me, you would not utter such pretty words. I am nothing more than a monster." You take a deep breath, fighting to steady your racing heart. The weight of the moment hangs heavy in the air, the tension palpable. "No, Lucas," you assert, your voice filled with conviction. You reach out, your hand trembling slightly, and gently place it on his shoulder. "You are not a monster. Yes, you may have committed acts of violence, but that does not define who you are as a person. It is what you do now, in this moment, that truly counts. And deep down, I know that you are a good person." Lucas shrugs off your hand, his body tense with inner turmoil. His eyes, once filled with cynicism, now brim with sadness and grief as he gazes into the distance. "I don't know," he murmurs, his voice heavy with emotion. "I'm not sure if I'm worthy of redemption, even if I try." Silence envelops the space between you, the weight of Lucas's despair hanging heavy in the air. His gaze remains fixed on some distant point, lost in the depths of his own thoughts. You search for the right words, but they seem to elude you, swallowed by the gravity of the situation. Finally, Lucas turns to you, his face pale and drawn with weariness and despair. "You know," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath, "stargazing used to be my favorite pastime as a child. I would lie down on the grass with my real family, looking up at the vast expanse of the night sky, feeling a sense of wonder and belonging." Tears welled up in Lucas's eyes as he continued to share the raw pain that had haunted him for so long. "Ironic because when my family died, I looked at the stars for answers," he admitted, his voice trembling. "And when I couldn't find them, I got angry. Angry at the universe, at fate, at whatever force controls the world. I wished I had fallen too. Maybe it would have hurt less if I had." Your heart clenched with empathy, and tears spilled down your cheeks. "Lucas, it's not your fault," you said softly, placing a gentle hand on his shaking shoulder. "I think your family would be very proud of the man you've become. You've suffered through so much, and yet you've still managed to remain kind and compassionate. They would be proud to call you their son." "My parents would be disappointed to see what I've become," Lucas said, his voice trembling with emotion. "They always taught me to do the right thing, and I'm the furthest thing from that." "Even so, they loved you," you insisted, trying to help him see the positive in his life. "And they wouldn't want you to be so hard on yourself." Lucas shook his head, his face contorted in a look of defeat. "Maybe you're right," he agreed. "If maybe Garett remembered me, maybe I wouldn't go on with my quest to take Claire's life. But seeing him like that, it only fueled my resolve to strangle her with my very own hands!" Lucas clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. "It hurts so much to let go, those memories keep haunting me, but it's for the best. For our friends, for our family, I need to take my revenge and avenge them." You felt the weight of Lucas's words pressing down on you, and you knew that he was trapped in a world of grief and anger. "I understand your pain," you said softly, trying to offer him comfort. "But remember, it's not too late to change." Lucas laughed, a bitter sound filled with disdain and disbelief. "It's too late for me!" he declared. "However! The question is, will you stop me from fulfilling my objective?" He pointed a finger at you, his eyes brimming with challenge and determination. You pondered Lucas's words, understanding that his quest for revenge was wrong, and it would only lead to more death and destruction. But you also knew his pain and grief were not something that could easily be dismissed. "I will not stop you from seeking justice for your family, Lucas," you said, your voice filled with empathy. "But I will be at your side, always reminding you that there's a better path than this." Lucas smiled fondly at you. "Thank you for your support and companionship! But can you actually hold me back if I get fully angry and unleash my wrath?" He pointed his finger at you. "We will cross that bridge when we get there!" you said to him, a sense of determination in your own voice. Deep down, you wondered if you could truly stop him, or if it might cost you everything in the process. As you glanced towards Lucas, you couldn't help but notice the turmoil reflected in his eyes. The conflict within him was palpable, a battle between his desire to honor his family and seek justice, and the consuming anger that had taken hold of him. It was as if his quest for revenge had become a voracious fire, devouring everything in its path. His anger had transformed into a heavy burden, weighing him down like an anchor, trapping him in a never-ending cycle of pain and grief. Standing beside Lucas, you could feel the intensity of his emotions. "<<print $player_name>>, I can't express how thankful I am for your words," he said, gratitude evident in his voice. "But right now, I need to be left alone." Lucas took a few determined steps forward, distancing himself from you. As he did, you instinctively reached out your hand, a silent gesture of support. However, acknowledging his need for space, you sighed and let your hand fall to your side. Determined to focus on the mission and the impending battle, you tried to push aside the ache in your heart caused by Lucas's withdrawal. But then, unexpectedly, Lucas halted in his tracks and turned around to face you. The expression on his face was a mix of wistfulness and longing as he spoke, his voice tinged with regret. "You know, if we had met under different circumstances... you and I could have become fast friends." A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you met Lucas's gaze with warmth in your eyes. "Who knows? Maybe if you give me a second chance, we still could," you replied, adding a playful wink to your words. In that moment, you saw Lucas's lips curl into a small smile, a glimmer of hope shining through the darkness within him. But as quickly as the smile appeared, it faded, replaced by a distant gaze that betrayed the weight of his memories and the burden of guilt he carried. His eyes softened with a mixture of anguish and pain, and for a fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of the lost soul within him. It was as if he were standing at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take or how to find solace. "Heh! Maybe we'll become more than just friends," Lucas teased, attempting to mask the pain he felt with a playful tone. You returned his smile, but you couldn't ignore the inner conflict he was grappling with. He was battling his own demons, and it was clear that healing would be a gradual process for him. Nevertheless, a glimmer of hope remained, a desire to find a path out of the darkness. With that, he turned and left you alone to contemplate the events of the day. As Lucas turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you alone in the stillness of the night, you turned your gaze to the sky. The darkness above seemed to mirror the uncertainty that lay ahead. Lost in your thoughts, you realized how quickly time had slipped away, the hours passing unnoticed as you were consumed by recent events. Deciding it was time to retreat and seek the rest you so desperately needed, you turned towards the familiar warmth of shelter. Each step you took echoed with the weight of the day's experiences, the conflicting emotions and heartbreaking moments replaying in your mind. [[Next|Luna Meeting MC]] <</replace>><</link>>"//'' "''//<<link "Your right! Your a monster!">><<replace "#Hello">> In the depths of your being, a whirlwind of emotions swirls, leaving you unsure of what exactly you're feeling. Is it anger? Annoyance? Exhaustion? Whatever it is, it has ignited a fire within you, fueling your frustration towards Lucas. You can't help but think that his reasons are shallow, that almost everyone experiences what he's going through. And so, without a second thought, you snap at him, letting your words cut through the air like a sharp blade. "You know what, maybe you're right!" The words escape your lips, dripping with sarcasm and bitterness. "Maybe you're a monster!" The weight of your frustration hangs heavy in the air, each word filled with the weight of your disappointment and disdain. To his credit, Lucas doesn't react with anger or defensiveness. Instead, he simply smiles sadly at you, a look of understanding in his eyes. "I... thank you for your honesty," he says, his voice filled with gratitude. "See, this was the side of me that no one wants to see, except you. I guess I was blinded by the hope of having my father back that I forgot who I was." You study Lucas, taking in his appearance, his eyes filled with an indescribable emptiness that sends shivers down your spine. It's a haunting emptiness, one that speaks volumes about the depths of his loss. He wasn't lying. Lucas had not only lost his memories but also a part of himself that made him the person you had come to know. In that moment, the weight of his burden becomes clear, and you can't help but feel a surge of horror at the realization of what the gods have done to him. Breaking the heavy silence, Lucas lets out a half-hearted laugh, as if trying to dismiss the gravity of the situation. "Hey now, don't let it get to you," he says, shaking his head and shrugging. "This is who I am." His voice carries a tinge of resignation, as if he's accepted his fate. "But I suppose we all have our own inner demons." You stand there, lost for words, your mind racing to process this new information. Is he really a monster? The question echoes in your mind, bouncing off the walls of your thoughts. "I didn't mean it like that!" you exclaim, rubbing your face in frustration. The stress and emotions swirling within you become overwhelming, threatening to consume you entirely. As you struggle to find your footing in this tumultuous moment. The air feels heavy, suffocating, as if it's mirroring the weight of your emotions. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but it feels as if the very atmosphere is pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe. But then, he blinked and turned his gaze away from you. "Just know that I really appreciate you being here for me," he said quietly, his vulnerability shining through. "And maybe one day, we can talk about this again." You smiled, recognizing the fragility in his voice and the sincerity of his gratitude. An urge to offer him comfort and solidarity welled up within you, but you decided that sometimes the smallest gestures of kindness spoke the loudest. So, you simply nodded, understanding that in that moment, your presence and understanding meant the world to him. Lucas stands up to his feet and you rose along side him, you could feel the intensity of his emotions. "<<print $player_name>>, I can't express how thankful I am for your words," he said, gratitude evident in his voice. "But right now, I need to be left alone." Lucas took a few determined steps forward, distancing himself from you. As he did, you instinctively reached out your hand, a silent gesture of support. However, acknowledging his need for space, you sighed and let your hand fall to your side. Determined to focus on the mission and the impending battle, you tried to push aside the ache in your heart caused by Lucas's withdrawal. But then, unexpectedly, Lucas halted in his tracks and turned around to face you. The expression on his face was a mix of wistfulness and longing as he spoke, his voice tinged with regret. "You know, if we had met under different circumstances... you and I could have become fast friends." A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you met Lucas's gaze with warmth in your eyes. "Who knows? Maybe if you give me a second chance, we still could," you replied, adding a playful wink to your words. In that moment, you saw Lucas's lips curl into a small smile, a glimmer of hope shining through the darkness within him. But as quickly as the smile appeared, it faded, replaced by a distant gaze that betrayed the weight of his memories and the burden of guilt he carried. His eyes softened with a mixture of anguish and pain, and for a fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of the lost soul within him. It was as if he were standing at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take or how to find solace. "Heh! Maybe we'll become more than just friends," Lucas teased, attempting to mask the pain he felt with a playful tone. You returned his smile, but you couldn't ignore the inner conflict he was grappling with. He was battling his own demons, and it was clear that healing would be a gradual process for him. Nevertheless, a glimmer of hope remained, a desire to find a path out of the darkness. With that, he turned and left you alone to contemplate the events of the day. As Lucas turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you alone in the stillness of the night, you turned your gaze to the sky. The darkness above seemed to mirror the uncertainty that lay ahead. Lost in your thoughts, you realized how quickly time had slipped away, the hours passing unnoticed as you were consumed by recent events. Deciding it was time to retreat and seek the rest you so desperately needed, you turned towards the familiar warmth of shelter. Each step you took echoed with the weight of the day's experiences, the conflicting emotions and heartbreaking moments replaying in your mind. [[Next|Luna Meeting MC]] <</replace>><</link>>"//'' @@

You igonre and idly swirling your drink as Serena tries her best to capture your attention. Her attempts at impressing you fall flat, and you can't help but smirk at her futile efforts. "Me...impressed? Don't get ahead of yourself," you say, your tone dripping with disinterest. Serena chuckles, undeterred by your apathy. "Alright, maybe not impressed. But perhaps charmed?" she continues, her voice laced with a hint of mischief. You raise an eyebrow and take a sip of your drink, barely acknowledging her words. "Okay, you're much worse than Elrick," you deadpan, your tone conveying your annoyance. Instead of being offended, Serena brushes off your insult with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Now, that is very offensive, <<print $player_name>>. There's no greater defamation than being compared to that piece of shit." Suddenly, a voice rang out from somewhere in the crowd, breaking the tension. "HEY! I'M JUST SOMEWHERE AROUND HERE, YOU KNOW?!" the voice exclaimed, clearly miffed at being insulted. Ignoring Serena's voice, you watch as she shrugs her shoulders, seemingly unfazed by the banter. Her nonchalant demeanor piques your curiosity, and you raise an eyebrow, eager to understand what she meant by her cryptic statement. Serena notices your interest and leans closer, her voice dropping to a hushed tone. "The thing about Elrick," she begins, her eyes twinkling mischievously, "is that he's an egoistic prick. He expects everyone to fawn over him, regardless of their own thoughts or feelings." Serena's words hang in the air, and you tilt your head, absorbing the weight of her confession. You tilted your head, absorbing her insights. "And you're not?" you teased, raising an eyebrow. A playful grin stretches across Serena's face, revealing her perfectly white teeth. "Me? Oh, I'm nowhere near that," she declares boldly. "I'd much rather be a tease, a flirt, than an obsessive, entitled wanker like him." Her eyes sparkle with amusement, as if daring you to challenge her audacious claim. You can't help but be impressed by Serena's audacity. With an arched brow, you decide to test the waters. "So, you admit to being a tease then?" you tease back, a hint of amusement in your voice. Serena's smile widens, her confidence oozing from every pore. "Why of course! When you look as good as I do, it's my duty to seduce and charm anyone who catches my eye," she confesses without a hint of hesitation. "You only live once, right? And when you've got it, you flaunt it! It's become my signature style, and it seems to be working wonders for me." You can't help but roll your eyes at her brazen attitude, but a sliver of admiration seeps into your heart. Serena is unapologetically herself, unafraid to embrace her sexuality and assert her desires. Mesmerized by Serena's captivating eyes, brimming with mischief and anticipation, you find yourself drawn into her magnetic presence. She leans in closer, her gaze never wavering from yours. "So, did I manage to capture your heart?" she whispers, batting her eyelashes playfully. You shake your head, a mix of exasperation and amusement in your response. "Keep fantasizing, Serena, and maybe one day it'll become a reality," you retort, your voice laced with a hint of challenge. Smirking, Serena inches even closer, her eyes gleaming with determination. "Let's just say I'm a patient woman, always waiting for the right moment to catch you off-guard and sweep you away from that dreaded loneliness of yours," she confides, her voice dripping with conviction. "Your heart can't remain locked up forever. You'll come around, I know it." She punctuates her words with a mischievous wink, hinting at her prowess as a master thief. Your mouth falls agape, taken aback by Serena's bold declaration. "You know, that's not creepy or obsessive at all," you quip back, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "And just so you know, I'm not alone. I have wonderful friends, a loving family, and a support system that makes my life fuller than anything else." Serena rolls her eyes, a small chuckle escaping her lips. "Now, that's where you're wrong," she counters, a touch of annoyance in her voice. "Having friends and family doesn't mean you're not lonely. You can still feel empty and vulnerable inside, no matter how many people surround you." Her gaze drifts towards Lucas, who is currently engulfed in a crowd of admirers. "Take Lucas, for example. He may have friends and admirers, but if you look closely, you can see it in his eyes. There's a certain sadness, a yearning for something he can't quite grasp. That, my friend, is the true definition of loneliness." As Serena spoke, her words struck a nerve within you, but you couldn't let her see that. You knew better than to give her the satisfaction of knowing she had hit a mark. Instead, you decided to play along with her game, determined not to let her ego inflate any further. With a hint of defiance in your voice, you replied, "Well, I guess that's why we have love interests then, isn't it? To fill that empty void?" Serena tilted her head, a smirk playing on her lips. Her confidence was palpable, and it only fueled your irritation towards her. "Well, that's if you're lucky enough to have one, <<print $player_name>>. But, you can't rely on love to fill your emptiness. It's fleeting and transient," she retorted, her voice carrying a trace of cynicism. "Plus, I've seen all sorts of relationships, and there's no such thing as happily ever after." Her statement raised an eyebrow from you, curiosity mingling with skepticism. "Oh? Speaking from experience, are we?" you inquired, trying to catch her off guard. Serena lifted her glass to her lips, her gaze never leaving yours. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes as she replied, "Boy, like you wouldn't believe it. But that's a story for another day! You can't rush a queen, you know?" You stared at Serena with disbelief, finding it hard to take her seriously. "You're using flattery on me? Trying to reel me in with your sweet-talk and seductive glances?" you scoffed, shaking your head in disdain. "But, it seems you're mistaking me for some hopeless romantic who'll fall for your schemes and deception." Serena leaned back, her smirk growing into a wide grin. "And who says I'm planning something? Who says maybe I'm just being horny for you, <<print $player_name>>?" she retorted, her eyes gleaming with a hint of amusement. "Besides, I've been told I have a talent for reading people. Maybe I can be a little lonely too. A bit sad and pathetic. Perhaps I am feeling empty inside, and I'm looking for a connection." Suddenly, Serena paused, her gaze growing predatory. It sent a shiver down your spine. "Or maybe I'm just playing a game, trying to see how far I can go before I'm discovered," she said, her voice dropping lower. Her eyes raked over your body, and you could see a hint of desire swirling within. "Either way, you can't deny your reaction is intriguing, MC. Your pulse is racing, your breath hitching in your throat." You couldn't help but chuckle incredulously, shocked by Serena's bold moves and frankness. "Is it, now?" you retorted, quirking an eyebrow at her. "You're playing with fire, Serena. I suggest you stop before you get burned." Her laugh was light, but there was a touch of malice in her eyes. "Oh, <<print $player_name>>. I'm not afraid of getting a little burn. But I may be an opportunist," she confessed, her voice low and serious. "But let's face it, the world is a jungle, and everyone is a predator and prey. It's kill or be killed, and we can't survive without playing the game, or in our case, conquer or be conquered." Putting down your glass and straightening your posture, the merriment around you seems lackluster in comparison to Serena's outlook on life. Her words hang heavy in the air, as her sneering lips form a cynical smile. You can't help but be intrigued by her perspective, despite feeling a pang of shock. "Now I'm sure you have a very tragic past if you're speaking like that. Does trust in your place hard to come by? Are relationships doomed to failure?" you inquired, genuinely curious about the origins of her cynicism. Serena lifted an eyebrow, her sneer persisting. "That may be so, but at least I'm not afraid to say it." She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, "When you face down the realities of this world, you learn a few hard truths. Life is fleeting, and nothing lasts. Love, hate, happiness, sadness - they're all a mayfly in the wind. You can try and hold onto it, but it always fades away, slipping through your fingers like sand." Her words left you standing upright, shocked by the starkness of her perspective. "But not all love is doomed, Serena. There are some relationships that are built to last, regardless of whatever may come," you argued, attempting to find common ground. Serena, however, remained unyielding. "You may think that way, but I'm not so naïve," she retorted with a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Tell me then, if you're so hell-bent on your love ideals, have you found one?" You rub your neck sheepishly, a hint of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. "It's a work in progress, I admit. I have yet to find the love of my life." Serena studies you intently, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and triumph. "A work in progress, huh? So, not quite done then?" she quips, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "Or is it because you couldn't find the courage to make a move, and they slipped away before you could realize the potential?" "Hey!" you retorted, irritated by her comment. "I can say that I have a chance, unlike you! All you do is hook up with random people and throw them away like they were trash. You need to learn to respect and cherish those around you, and not treat them like trophies." A malicious smirk adorns Serena's lips, her eyes shining with a twisted sense of satisfaction. "Says the one who's perfect and beloved by all? Have you looked around, <<print $player_name>>?" She taps her ear, indicating that she has heard whispers and gossip. "You're the biggest prize in the city! You're like a living legend, and everyone wants a piece of you," she scoffs, her words cutting through the air like a sharp blade. "I am?" you ask, surprised by Serena's revelation. Serena leans closer, her eyes darting to her side, her body taut and tensed. "I've heard the words here and there," she whispers, her voice laced with a mix of curiosity and caution. "You may be a Chosen One, but you're still just a human. No one is immune from temptation, not even you. You may have been chosen for a higher purpose, but that doesn't mean you can't experience what life has to offer, just like the rest of us." Her words strike a chord within you, sending your heart racing. As much as you want to deny it, you know deep down that Serena's words hold a sliver of truth. You've seen how people look at you, a mix of reverence and awe. You've noticed the furtive glances and secret smiles. They see you as their hero, their savior from the encroaching darkness. Serena's chuckle rang through the air like a mischievous melody, and you couldn't deny that her words had left an indelible mark on your thoughts. Her audacity was as captivating as it was confounding. "I see that I have given you some words to ponder about," Serena declared, her voice dripping with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction. She took a graceful step back, her movements as fluid as a dancer's. With a mock curtsy, she continued, "So, I must take my leave and find myself some easier prey." You blink at her sudden disappearance, startled by her absence. The words she had spoken echo in your mind, like an ominous melody that weighs heavily on your heart. The weight of her words presses down on you, making you question everything. Can being a Chosen One truly mean that you are destined to be alone? Must you forsake love and connection to fulfill your responsibilities, forever battling the demons of the night and the shadows on your own? Lost in your thoughts, you are suddenly jolted back to reality by a voice cutting through the silence like a sharp blade. "<<print $player_name>>!" The voice belongs to Lee, a trusted friend and confidant. He approaches you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hmm, I see that Serena has left quite an impression on you," he muses, his voice brimming with amusement. "But don't worry, <<print $player_name>>. She's not worth your attention. In fact, she's not even worthy of anyone's trust." You glance at Lee, disbelief and confusion evident in your eyes. You can't help but wonder if he's merely joking or if there's some truth to his words. "Is she really that despicable?" you ask, your voice filled with uncertainty. Lee shakes his head, his expression grave. "Despicable is an understatement , <<print $player_name>>. Serena is a living, breathing nightmare. Many people, especially men, have fallen under her spell, only to be discarded like chopped liver once she gets what she wants." Placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, Lee's voice softens with compassion. "Don't let her get to you, <<print $player_name>>. She's not worth it. Besides, I want you to meet Garett. The gang is all there, and I came back just to fetch you!" He winks at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'll always have your back, <<print $player_name>>. Loyalty until death, you know. And I can tell you're not into her. I won't let some vain, egotistical woman come between you and your happiness." Lee's words echo in your mind, causing a lump to form in your throat. The idea of love, of finding someone to share your life with, still feels like a distant dream. But in this moment, with Lee by your side, you feel a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, amidst the chaos and uncertainty of your new life, there is room for love and connection. Lee clasps your shoulder and leads you away from the bustling event, guiding you through a labyrinth of hallways. The sounds of laughter and music grow distant, replaced by the soft echo of your footsteps. The air becomes cooler, carrying with it a subtle hint of pine, offering a soothing balm to your troubled mind. Lee gestures for you to follow, and you trail behind him, captivated by his confident strides. Silently following his lead, you found yourself enveloped in contemplation once more. The questions about your new life and its purpose weighed on your mind. But rather than dwell on uncertainties, you decided to initiate a conversation to break the silence. "So, how's Garret?" you inquired, eager to shift the focus. Lee's voice breaks the silence, his words dripping with excitement. "Garrett, oh, he's doing well. I think Lucas will finally relent on his vendetta quest and make peace with him. It will be a sight to see," Lee says, chuckling to himself. He continues walking with a gleeful bounce in his step. He led you through a heavy wooden door, its ancient hinges groaning in protest. As you stepped into the dimly lit corridor, a cool breeze brushed against your skin, carrying with it a gentle scent of pine. The air was tinged with a comforting familiarity, a balm to your stressed-out mind. It felt like a respite from the chaos that had consumed your life. Lee, with a weariness etched in every line of his face, gestured for you to follow him. His strides were confident, but you could sense the weight he carried on his shoulders. It mirrored your own burden, the responsibility of saving an entire world and preventing the unraveling of time. Empathy swelled within you as you trailed behind him, matching his steps. Turning a corner, Lee's eyes brightened and a wide grin spread across his face. You followed eagerly, anticipation building within you. The sound of hushed voices grew louder as you approached a group of four people waiting outside a door. Lucas, with his rigid posture and tense expression, exuded an aura of tension that seemed to permeate the air. His emotions weighed heavily, threatening to unbalance you. "<<print $player_name>>!" he greeted you cordially, but there was an underlying unease in his voice. Variel, standing toward the back, attempted to blend into the shadows, her presence almost invisible. Lucian leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes scanning the room for any potential threats. Clara, seemingly unaffected by the heavy atmosphere, welcomed you with a warm smile. "It's good to see you, <<print $player_name>>," she said, her voice a soothing melody amidst the tension. Before you could respond, Lee ushered you inside the room, his grip firm on your shoulder. The space was small, a vase of vibrant flowers sitting atop a delicate table. Sunlight poured in through an open window, casting a gentle glow over the scene. But your attention was drawn to the figure lying on the bed, engrossed in a book. "Lee! Your ba-" he put down the book on his lap and eyes widened in surprised at the sudden arrival of guests. "Surprised, sweetie!" Lee exclaimed happily, sauntering toward Garett and planting an affectionate kiss on his head, their interaction radiating warmth and familiarity. As you stood at the door, watching the scene unfold before your eyes, a voice broke the silence. "Who's that?" Garett asked, pointing in your direction. . "Come on in! Don't be shy," another man named Lee beckoned, gesturing for you to come closer. With cautious steps, you made your way towards the pair. However, as you approached, you couldn't help but notice a fleeting look of apprehension flash across the face of a man named Garett. It was unclear whether he was happy to see you or simply annoyed by your unexpected arrival. "I'm <<print $player_name>>!" you introduced yourself, trying to break the tension that hung in the air. Garett nodded in recognition. "Ahh! The Chosen One I have heard so much about," he said, a smile forming on his face. "Also not to mention your the one who tamed Beatrice!" he laughs heartily at that. "The way you coo her!" Suddenly, Lucas tapped your shoulder, drawing your attention away from Garett. You turned around, only to find Lucas looking distraught. "Excuse me," he said, his voice filled with urgency as he made his way towards the bedside. Lucas knelt down, taking hold of his father's hand. Lee placed a comforting hand on Lucas' shoulder, offering his support. "Father, it's me," Lucas began, his voice trembling. "I miss you so much." Garett's eyes welled up with tears, a sudden display of emotion that took everyone in the room by surprise, except for Lee. He sobbed softly, his voice choked with sorrow. "I'm sorry, but I don't know you. I don't remember you at all," he confessed, tears streaming down his face as he sniffled. "I don't remember any single one of you, and I don't remember any of the memories you're talking about. You must have mistaken me for someone else." Lucas felt a sharp pain pierce his heart. The sudden realization struck him like a lightning bolt, and he could feel his chest constrict with anxiety and dread. All the moments of closeness, the cherished memories he held with his father, they were all gone. "You're joking, right, Father?" Lucas asked, his voice growing increasingly hysterical. "You're the one who raised me, who adopted me from the streets and gave me a home. Please, I know you're in there. You're not just an empty shell!" Garett could only shake his head in response. "I'm sorry, kid," he said, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "I have no recollection of my past, at least not enough to share the memories that you claim to have." A voice from the doorway shattered the fragile silence, slicing through the heaviness that hung in the room. It was Lucian, leaning against the frame with furrowed brows and a concern etched deep into his features. His voice quivered with a hint of worry as he spoke, "It's probably the merciless effects of his illness," Lucian explained, his words laced with a tinge of despair. "He might have struck his head so violently that it's left him with these debilitating memory lapses." Lucas turned towards Lucian, his tear-filled eyes pleading for answers that seemed just out of reach. His voice trembled with a mixture of anguish and desperation as he asked, his words breaking with the weight of emotion, "What are we supposed to do now? How do we make him remember?" Lucian, the pillar of strength, walked over to Lucas and gently placed a comforting hand on his trembling shoulder. His voice, like a gentle breeze on a stormy night, carried a soothing warmth as he reassured, "We'll navigate this treacherous path together, my dear Lucas. We'll seek out the most skilled doctors, the most advanced treatments, and we'll give him the time he needs to heal. And in the meantime, we'll be here, unwavering in our support, every step of the way." Lucas nodded slowly, his heart aching with the weight of sorrow that seemed to engulf the room. The man lying in the bed before him bore the resemblance of his father, the sound of his voice still echoed with familiarity, but he was a mere shadow of his former self. He had become someone new, someone different, someone they had to learn how to love all over again. Abruptly, Lucas stood, brushing Lucian's comforting hand off his shoulder with a force fueled by the storm brewing within him. "I need some air!" he exclaimed, pushing past everyone in his path, his voice thick with frustration and anguish. "Lucas, wait!" Lee pleaded, taking a step towards him, but Garett gently held his trembling hand, his voice filled with a wisdom beyond his years. "Let him be. He needs this," Garett advised, his eyes filled with understanding, knowing that sometimes, space was the only solace one could find. You disagreed with Garett's decision, feeling the urgency of the situation, and you quietly trailed behind Lucas. Claire on the otherhand, her face are etched with conflicting emotions, stepped aside, contemplating whether to offer solace or grant him the tranquility he sought. Variel, tears glistening in his eyes, stood in the corner, his heart shattered by the realization that nothing was more painful than the knowledge that your own father no longer recognized you. As you followed Lucas out of the room, your senses were immediately overwhelmed by the heaviness in the air. The tension in Lucas' shoulders was palpable, a physical manifestation of the burden weighing on his heart. It was as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him, and you knew that nothing you said or did could ease the pain he was feeling. Still, you hoped that your presence would offer some kind of comfort, a small respite from the storm raging inside him. The two of you walked in silence, the only sound breaking the stillness being the soft rustling of leaves beneath your feet. It was a melancholic melody, a symphony of sorrow echoing through the empty courtyard. Lucas marched forward, his steps purposeful and determined, as if seeking solace in the vacant space. The wind whipped his hair around his face, the strands dancing in wild abandon, mirroring the chaos within him. You followed at a respectful distance, understanding the need to give him space, yet remaining close enough to offer your silent support. Finally, Lucas stopped, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he let out a long, ragged sigh. You stood there, a silent observer, waiting for him to break the silence. His voice, rough with emotion, carried on the wind as he uttered words heavy with pain and confusion. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked, his voice trembling with vulnerability. "How am I supposed to live like this? Watching him waste away? Not knowing if he'll ever be the same again?" You find yourself drawn into the depths of Lucas' once-vibrant eyes, captivated by the transformation they have undergone. They were once a mesmerizing hue, akin to the clear blue sky on a sunny day, radiating joy and tranquility. But now, they bear a misty shade of blue, almost resembling a somber grey. These eyes are brimming with pain and uncertainty, as if they have witnessed the weight of the world's sorrows. If the eyes truly serve as windows to the soul, a mere glance into Lucas' reveals the profound brokenness within. It's as though the very essence of his being has been marred by unseen scars, hidden behind that facade of composure he desperately clings to. Even the way he carries himself has changed. He no longer walks with the confident stride you once knew. Instead, he carries his head low, as if trying to hide within his own shadow. His shoulders, once squared with determination, now sag under the heavy burden of whatever haunts him. Every step seems labored, as if he's traversing a treacherous path of his own making. Your heart ached for Lucas, for the anguish etched into every word, but you didn't have an answer. So, you stayed quiet, giving him the space to vent his frustrations, to release the pent-up emotions that threatened to consume him. As he paced back and forth, his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, you watched his internal storm swirl around him, the tempest of emotions raging on. "You know what the worst part is?" Lucas continued, his voice cracking with a mix of anger and despair. "The worst part is that he doesn't even remember me anymore. All those memories we shared... they're gone. He looks at me like I'm a stranger." His words pierced your heart, and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. The pain in Lucas' voice was too raw, too real to ignore. You took a step closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, hoping to offer some form of comfort. "I know it's hard, Lucas," you said softly, your voice filled with empathy. "But you're not alone in this. We're all here for you, for your family." Lucas turned to look at you, his anger and annoyance directed towards you. In a moment of overwhelming emotion, he grabbed your clothes by the chest, his grip tight and unyielding. His touch was painful, his fingers digging into your skin, but you understood that his anger wasn't truly directed at you. It was a cry for help, a desperate plea for understanding. "Easy for you to say! He knows you!" Lucas spat, his voice laced with bitterness. "He remembers you, a nobody, a stranger from an unknown land!" The biting words stung you like a slap in the face, but you stood your ground, refusing to back down. "I understand," you said gently, carefully removing Lucas' hands from your chest. "I really do. It's not fair that you've lost your father, and that's not something that can be fixed overnight. You've lost someone you care about, and it's understandable that you're frustrated and angry." Lucas' grip loosened, but he didn't let go of you completely. His anger began to give way to grief. "It's so unfair," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "He's all I have left, and now he's gone." Your eyes misted with tears, your heart aching in sympathy. "You have friends, Lucas," you said, trying to offer him some solace. "I'm here for you." You could see the turmoil on his face, the conflicting emotions battling within him. A hint of amusement danced in his eyes, an indicator of his volatile mood. He tried to hide his anguish, his fingers clenching and unclenching in a nervous gesture on your clothes. But as you looked into Lucas' eyes, you saw the hurt and desperation, the sheer weight of his pain. Then, just as suddenly as it had come, his grip on you became slack, and he collapsed into your arms. All the pent-up emotions he had been keeping inside came rushing out in a torrent of tears and pain. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." he sobbed, his voice filled with anguish. He held onto you as if you were his anchor in a turbulent sea. The weight of his sorrow pressed against you, but you held him close, offering the solace he needed. "It's alright, Lucas! Let it out!" you cooed, your arms wrapped tightly around him. He clung to you, his tears soaking your shoulder as he let out the pain he had been bottling up for so long. "It's just so hard... so damn hard," he whimpered, his body trembling with the force of his emotions. "I've lost so much... so many memories... so many people I care about." You held Lucas as he sobbed, offering him whatever comfort you could. And in that vulnerable moment, he tearfully confessed his deepest fears. "Ever since I was young, I've felt like a bad omen, a curse to those around me," he admitted. "Everyone I love seems to get hurt or abandoned, and I feel so helpless because I can never stop the pain from coming. I can still hear their screams, their pleas, my name echoing in their agony." "Everything I touch turns to ash!" Lucas sobbed, his body wracked with shudders, his tears streaming down his face. "I thought I would have a chance to have my own father, a chance to be with my family. But now... he's just a stranger. A man who doesn't know me. Someone who will never be the same again." Your own tears mingled with his as you held him, your heart breaking for his pain. The room seemed to close in around both of you, the weight of your emotions threatening to suffocate. But still, you clung to each other, finding solace in the shared grief. Suddenly, Lucas withdrew himself from the embrace, his voice shaky as he apologized for his outburst. He sniffed and wiped the tears from his eyes with his gauntlet, exhaling heavily, his face etched with sorrow. "I do need a moment alone," he said, his voice filled with vulnerability. "My father's death is still too fresh, and I'm not sure if I'm ready to face him like this." "It's okay, Lucas. I understand," you responded gently, your voice filled with reassurance. "Take all the time you need, and we'll be here to support you." He nodded slowly, his eyes red from tears and exhaustion. And then, with a heavy sigh, Lucas looked into your eyes, his emotions palpable, his posture rigid with tension. "You know," he said shakily, "I'm really grateful for your company, but I fear that if you knew the true me, you would run away. I'm afraid of losing you too and the others." he sat down on the ground and you sat down beside him. "Well, let's change that! Let's start with trust, which means we'll have to be open and honest with each other. So, Lucas, what do you want to tell me?" you ask, intrigued by his confession. Lucas hesitates, his body trembling with nervousness. A storm of emotions plays across his face, a hint of resignation flickering in his eyes. His voice quivers as he begins to speak, his vulnerability on full display. "The truth is, I'm not the hero that people see me as," he admits, his voice laced with regret. "In the past, I did unspeakable things just to survive." he looks at you, expecting judgment from you. Your heart skips a beat, captivated by his confession. You lean in closer, urging him to continue. "What things?" you gently prod, your voice filled with compassion and understanding. Lucas's voice falters as the weight of his past bears down on him. "I... I killed people," he reveals, his words hanging heavily in the air. The air falls silent, and you can almost hear the echo of his admission reverberating through your soul. Tears well up in his eyes, threatening to spill over. "Oh, Lucas," you murmur, stunned by his honesty. The enormity of his confession hits you like a punch to the gut. But instead of judgment, you offer him solace, a safe space to unburden his guilt. "You were only trying to survive. It wasn't your fault, and it certainly wasn't a crime. The world can be cruel, and you did what you had to do." Lucas shakes his head, his tears now flowing freely. Laughter bubbles up from within him, mingling with his sobs. It's a haunting sound, filled with pain and self-loathing. "Still, you see the good in me," he whispers, his voice laced with admiration. "But what if I told you that when I took their lives, I loved every single moment of it? What if I reveled in their blood, relished the feeling of their bones snapping under my might? Would you still think of me as human? Or would you finally see the monster that I truly am?" @@#Hello; ''//"<<link "Lucas! I still see you as my friend. A loyal and protective friend that the citizens of Tiara hold dear in their hearts">><<replace "#Hello">> You let out a weary sigh, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon your shoulders. Your gaze meets Lucas', determined to convey the depth of your feelings. "Lucas, my dear friend," you begin, your voice steady but laced with emotion, "despite the mistakes you may have made in the past, I will always see you as the loyal and protective friend that the citizens of Tiara hold dear in their hearts." Lucas's eyes flicker with a mixture of awe and reverence, but his response is laced with bitter sarcasm. "Oh, how naive you are," he scoffs, his words dripping with cynicism. "If only you truly knew the darkness that resides within me, you would not utter such pretty words. I am nothing more than a monster." You take a deep breath, fighting to steady your racing heart. The weight of the moment hangs heavy in the air, the tension palpable. "No, Lucas," you assert, your voice filled with conviction. You reach out, your hand trembling slightly, and gently place it on his shoulder. "You are not a monster. Yes, you may have committed acts of violence, but that does not define who you are as a person. It is what you do now, in this moment, that truly counts. And deep down, I know that you are a good person." Lucas shrugs off your hand, his body tense with inner turmoil. His eyes, once filled with cynicism, now brim with sadness and grief as he gazes into the distance. "I don't know," he murmurs, his voice heavy with emotion. "I'm not sure if I'm worthy of redemption, even if I try." Silence envelops the space between you, the weight of Lucas's despair hanging heavy in the air. His gaze remains fixed on some distant point, lost in the depths of his own thoughts. You search for the right words, but they seem to elude you, swallowed by the gravity of the situation. Finally, Lucas turns to you, his face pale and drawn with weariness and despair. "You know," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath, "stargazing used to be my favorite pastime as a child. I would lie down on the grass with my real family, looking up at the vast expanse of the night sky, feeling a sense of wonder and belonging." Tears welled up in Lucas's eyes as he continued to share the raw pain that had haunted him for so long. "Ironic because when my family died, I looked at the stars for answers," he admitted, his voice trembling. "And when I couldn't find them, I got angry. Angry at the universe, at fate, at whatever force controls the world. I wished I had fallen too. Maybe it would have hurt less if I had." Your heart clenched with empathy, and tears spilled down your cheeks. "Lucas, it's not your fault," you said softly, placing a gentle hand on his shaking shoulder. "I think your family would be very proud of the man you've become. You've suffered through so much, and yet you've still managed to remain kind and compassionate. They would be proud to call you their son." "My parents would be disappointed to see what I've become," Lucas said, his voice trembling with emotion. "They always taught me to do the right thing, and I'm the furthest thing from that." "Even so, they loved you," you insisted, trying to help him see the positive in his life. "And they wouldn't want you to be so hard on yourself." Lucas shook his head, his face contorted in a look of defeat. "Maybe you're right," he agreed. "If maybe Garett remembered me, maybe I wouldn't go on with my quest to take Claire's life. But seeing him like that, it only fueled my resolve to strangle her with my very own hands!" Lucas clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. "It hurts so much to let go, those memories keep haunting me, but it's for the best. For our friends, for our family, I need to take my revenge and avenge them." You felt the weight of Lucas's words pressing down on you, and you knew that he was trapped in a world of grief and anger. "I understand your pain," you said softly, trying to offer him comfort. "But remember, it's not too late to change." Lucas laughed, a bitter sound filled with disdain and disbelief. "It's too late for me!" he declared. "However! The question is, will you stop me from fulfilling my objective?" He pointed a finger at you, his eyes brimming with challenge and determination. You pondered Lucas's words, understanding that his quest for revenge was wrong, and it would only lead to more death and destruction. But you also knew his pain and grief were not something that could easily be dismissed. "I will not stop you from seeking justice for your family, Lucas," you said, your voice filled with empathy. "But I will be at your side, always reminding you that there's a better path than this." Lucas smiled fondly at you. "Thank you for your support and companionship! But can you actually hold me back if I get fully angry and unleash my wrath?" He pointed his finger at you. "We will cross that bridge when we get there!" you said to him, a sense of determination in your own voice. Deep down, you wondered if you could truly stop him, or if it might cost you everything in the process. As you glanced towards Lucas, you couldn't help but notice the turmoil reflected in his eyes. The conflict within him was palpable, a battle between his desire to honor his family and seek justice, and the consuming anger that had taken hold of him. It was as if his quest for revenge had become a voracious fire, devouring everything in its path. His anger had transformed into a heavy burden, weighing him down like an anchor, trapping him in a never-ending cycle of pain and grief. Standing beside Lucas, you could feel the intensity of his emotions. "<<print $player_name>>, I can't express how thankful I am for your words," he said, gratitude evident in his voice. "But right now, I need to be left alone." Lucas took a few determined steps forward, distancing himself from you. As he did, you instinctively reached out your hand, a silent gesture of support. However, acknowledging his need for space, you sighed and let your hand fall to your side. Determined to focus on the mission and the impending battle, you tried to push aside the ache in your heart caused by Lucas's withdrawal. But then, unexpectedly, Lucas halted in his tracks and turned around to face you. The expression on his face was a mix of wistfulness and longing as he spoke, his voice tinged with regret. "You know, if we had met under different circumstances... you and I could have become fast friends." A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you met Lucas's gaze with warmth in your eyes. "Who knows? Maybe if you give me a second chance, we still could," you replied, adding a playful wink to your words. In that moment, you saw Lucas's lips curl into a small smile, a glimmer of hope shining through the darkness within him. But as quickly as the smile appeared, it faded, replaced by a distant gaze that betrayed the weight of his memories and the burden of guilt he carried. His eyes softened with a mixture of anguish and pain, and for a fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of the lost soul within him. It was as if he were standing at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take or how to find solace. "Heh! Maybe we'll become more than just friends," Lucas teased, attempting to mask the pain he felt with a playful tone. You returned his smile, but you couldn't ignore the inner conflict he was grappling with. He was battling his own demons, and it was clear that healing would be a gradual process for him. Nevertheless, a glimmer of hope remained, a desire to find a path out of the darkness. With that, he turned and left you alone to contemplate the events of the day. As Lucas turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you alone in the stillness of the night, you turned your gaze to the sky. The darkness above seemed to mirror the uncertainty that lay ahead. Lost in your thoughts, you realized how quickly time had slipped away, the hours passing unnoticed as you were consumed by recent events. Deciding it was time to retreat and seek the rest you so desperately needed, you turned towards the familiar warmth of shelter. Each step you took echoed with the weight of the day's experiences, the conflicting emotions and heartbreaking moments replaying in your mind. [[Next|Luna Meeting MC]] <</replace>><</link>>"//'' "''//<<link "Your right! Your a monster!">><<replace "#Hello">> In the depths of your being, a whirlwind of emotions swirls, leaving you unsure of what exactly you're feeling. Is it anger? Annoyance? Exhaustion? Whatever it is, it has ignited a fire within you, fueling your frustration towards Lucas. You can't help but think that his reasons are shallow, that almost everyone experiences what he's going through. And so, without a second thought, you snap at him, letting your words cut through the air like a sharp blade. "You know what, maybe you're right!" The words escape your lips, dripping with sarcasm and bitterness. "Maybe you're a monster!" The weight of your frustration hangs heavy in the air, each word filled with the weight of your disappointment and disdain. To his credit, Lucas doesn't react with anger or defensiveness. Instead, he simply smiles sadly at you, a look of understanding in his eyes. "I... thank you for your honesty," he says, his voice filled with gratitude. "See, this was the side of me that no one wants to see, except you. I guess I was blinded by the hope of having my father back that I forgot who I was." You study Lucas, taking in his appearance, his eyes filled with an indescribable emptiness that sends shivers down your spine. It's a haunting emptiness, one that speaks volumes about the depths of his loss. He wasn't lying. Lucas had not only lost his memories but also a part of himself that made him the person you had come to know. In that moment, the weight of his burden becomes clear, and you can't help but feel a surge of horror at the realization of what the gods have done to him. Breaking the heavy silence, Lucas lets out a half-hearted laugh, as if trying to dismiss the gravity of the situation. "Hey now, don't let it get to you," he says, shaking his head and shrugging. "This is who I am." His voice carries a tinge of resignation, as if he's accepted his fate. "But I suppose we all have our own inner demons." You stand there, lost for words, your mind racing to process this new information. Is he really a monster? The question echoes in your mind, bouncing off the walls of your thoughts. "I didn't mean it like that!" you exclaim, rubbing your face in frustration. The stress and emotions swirling within you become overwhelming, threatening to consume you entirely. As you struggle to find your footing in this tumultuous moment. The air feels heavy, suffocating, as if it's mirroring the weight of your emotions. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but it feels as if the very atmosphere is pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe. The storm of anger and frustration that had engulfed you just moments ago now gave way to a profound sense of shock and awe. Lucas's response was unexpectedly calm and understanding, and it left you momentarily speechless. "It's okay, <<print $player_name>>. You had every right to be angry," Lucas said in a soft, gentle voice. "Don't beat yourself up about it." His eyes, now devoid of tears, held a glimmer of understanding, as if he had battled similar emotions in the past. "You were just speaking the truth, after all. We all have our own inner demons, even me." Lucas's voice remained steady, even as the weight of his confession hung heavily in the air. Your anger and frustration dissipated rapidly, replaced by a profound sense of regret. "I'm so sorry, Lucas. I didn't mean to lash out like that," you apologized, your voice filled with sincerity. "You were being vulnerable, and I..." Lucas interrupted your apology with reassuring words, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. "It's alright, <<print $player_name>>. Don't worry about it," he said, his tone calm and accepting. "You weren't the first person to call me a monster, and you probably won't be the last." There was a sadness in his eyes, a hint of resignation that tugged at your heart. But then, he blinked and turned his gaze away from you. "Just know that I really appreciate you being here for me," he said quietly, his vulnerability shining through. "And maybe one day, we can talk about this again." You smiled, recognizing the fragility in his voice and the sincerity of his gratitude. An urge to offer him comfort and solidarity welled up within you, but you decided that sometimes the smallest gestures of kindness spoke the loudest. So, you simply nodded, understanding that in that moment, your presence and understanding meant the world to him. Lucas stands on his feet and you rose alongside him, you could feel the intensity of his emotions. "<<print $player_name>>, I can't express how thankful I am for your words," he said, gratitude evident in his voice. "But right now, I need to be left alone." Lucas took a few determined steps forward, distancing himself from you. As he did, you instinctively reached out your hand, a silent gesture of support. However, acknowledging his need for space, you sighed and let your hand fall to your side. Determined to focus on the mission and the impending battle, you tried to push aside the ache in your heart caused by Lucas's withdrawal. But then, unexpectedly, Lucas halted in his tracks and turned around to face you. The expression on his face was a mix of wistfulness and longing as he spoke, his voice tinged with regret. "You know, if we had met under different circumstances... you and I could have become fast friends." A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you met Lucas's gaze with warmth in your eyes. "Who knows? Maybe if you give me a second chance, we still could," you replied, adding a playful wink to your words. In that moment, you saw Lucas's lips curl into a small smile, a glimmer of hope shining through the darkness within him. But as quickly as the smile appeared, it faded, replaced by a distant gaze that betrayed the weight of his memories and the burden of guilt he carried. His eyes softened with a mixture of anguish and pain, and for a fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of the lost soul within him. It was as if he were standing at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take or how to find solace. "Heh! Maybe we'll become more than just friends," Lucas teased, attempting to mask the pain he felt with a playful tone. You returned his smile, but you couldn't ignore the inner conflict he was grappling with. He was battling his own demons, and it was clear that healing would be a gradual process for him. Nevertheless, a glimmer of hope remained, a desire to find a path out of the darkness. With that, he turned and left you alone to contemplate the events of the day. As Lucas turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you alone in the stillness of the night, you turned your gaze to the sky. The darkness above seemed to mirror the uncertainty that lay ahead. Lost in your thoughts, you realized how quickly time had slipped away, the hours passing unnoticed as you were consumed by recent events. Deciding it was time to retreat and seek the rest you so desperately needed, you turned towards the familiar warmth of shelter. Each step you took echoed with the weight of the day's experiences, the conflicting emotions and heartbreaking moments replaying in your mind. [[Next|Luna Meeting MC]] <</replace>><</link>>"//'' @@

Returning inside the comforting confines of the hallways, you began to walk, contemplating whether you should return to Garett's room to say farewell. After all, he was the one who remembered you more than the rest, so it seemed only fair to express your gratitude to him. As you moved quietly through the dimly lit corridor, the soft echo of your footsteps was the only sound accompanying your thoughts. The castle's grandeur seemed to envelope you, its ancient stones holding centuries of secrets. Just when you were about to make your decision, another set of footsteps echoed through the hallway, distinct from your own. You tensed slightly, alert to the presence approaching. Then, from out of the shadows, a figure emerged. "Chosen One!" The voice that greeted you was soft but carried an air of authority. The person's hair was as white as freshly fallen snow, and their eyes, unyielding like sapphires, locked onto yours. "Luna!" you greeted her, relief washing over you at the familiar face. Luna's expression was polite but guarded, her demeanor poised. "I'm honored to finally meet you in person!" she ays bowing her head ever so slightly. As you stood in the quiet hallway, you couldn't help but notice the distinct layer of unease that underlined Luna's attempt at cordiality. Her noble upbringing was evident in the way she carried herself, with a level of decorum that spoke of privilege and refinement. However, her eyes betrayed her apprehension, darting back and forth down the empty corridor, a clear indication that something was amiss. It dawned on you that you were the object of Luna's unease. The two of you were alone in this deserted hallway, and her behavior was making you increasingly wary of her motives. Despite the initial greeting, there was an air of suspicion hanging heavily between you. Curiosity getting the better of you, you decided to address the tension. "So, what can I do for the Vicious Wolf?" you inquired, searching for answers. Luna's response was swift, raising an eyebrow in a challenging manner as she mirrored your question. "I wanted to ask you the same thing. You're a new arrival on these lands, and yet you've made quite the impression," she said, her voice laced with doubt. "Although I'm not sure if it's a positive one." Defensive, you felt the need to protect yourself from these unfounded accusations. "What are you implying?" you began, your voice tinged with frustration. "You haven't even properly met me before." Luna's gaze sharpened, her pause pregnant with significance. "No, that's true," she allowed, tilting her head slightly. "But I have heard plenty about you, even though you've only been here for a few days." There was something about Luna's tone that sent a shiver down your spine. Her voice remained smooth and refined, but beneath the surface, a tremor of fear seeped through. It was as if she knew something you didn't. Suddenly, Luna leaned closer, her eyes darting anxiously to her side. Her body became taut and tense, as if preparing for an imminent threat. "I have heard the prophecy," she said, her voice accusingly. "A Chosen One bearing a mark will save the people, but beware, for they can be corrupted by the same evil they're trying to vanquish!" Confusion washed over you, and you couldn't help but feel anger rise within. "Excuse me?" you responded, your voice laced with disbelief. "What are you talking about? I haven't been corrupted." Luna seemed unfazed by your protest, her determination unwavering. "Yet! But how can we be sure?" she insisted, her sapphire-blue eyes widening with an intensity you hadn't noticed before. "The prophecy warns us to be cautious of the Chosen One, for they can both save and destroy us in the same breath!" The room seemed to spin, and you struggled to comprehend Luna's accusations. Anger and confusion warred within you as you desperately sought answers. "I don't know what you're talking about. Why don't you explain it to me?" you demanded, your voice filled with frustration. Luna hesitated, her gaze locked with yours. "Don't play games with me," she finally said, her voice laced with a mix of frustration and fear. "The prophecy states that the Chosen One will have a mark on their hand, just like you." She pointed to your left hand, which you instinctively covered with your other hand. "Why else would you hide it?" You stood there, frozen in disbelief, your eyes locked with hers. Luna's words reverberated through your mind, sinking deep into your core. Her gaze was intense, almost piercing, as if she could see straight through your soul. "I can sense something in you," Luna began, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and caution. "Something dark and dangerous. It's palpable, like a beacon. We can't afford to let it consume you." The air grew heavy, and a chill ran down your spine, causing your body to shiver involuntarily. Questions swirled in your mind, but you found yourself unable to utter a single word. The weight of her words left you speechless, searching for an understanding that eluded you. Luna's eyes flickered with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher, shimmering with a mix of determination and uncertainty. Her lips quivered slightly, as if battling with the choice of whether to share more. "You're lucky that my words are speculations for now," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of anger. "Or I would have ended you right here and now." She turned away abruptly, her movements swift yet graceful, disappearing into the shadows. The echoes of her footsteps faded slowly, leaving behind an eerie silence that enveloped you. You stood there, rooted to the spot, your mind racing to make sense of what had just transpired. Feelings of confusion and trepidation mingled within you, intertwining with a sense of curiosity. Luna's words had stirred something deep within, awakening a hidden part of yourself that you had never fully understood. You couldn't deny the unease that now settled in your gut, a nagging feeling that Luna was onto something, something that could change your life forever. As you walked back towards Garett's room, a lingering sense of dread filled your stomach. You didn't want to believe that you could be the Chosen One that Luna had mentioned, but her words had gotten under your skin in a way you couldn't ignore. You rounded the corner and walked past Garett's room, not daring to look inside your mind becoming unstable. Instead, you continued walking towards your room, determined to get as far away from everyone as possible. Thankfully you didn't get last this time and as you opened the heavy doors and stepped into your safehaven, you could feel the weight of Luna's words pressing on your chest. You had come here to be healed and have a fresh start, not to have your very identity challenged. As you walked through your environment and heading towards your balcony, you wondered what your next move should be. Perhaps it was time to seek out a new home, far from the prying eyes of Luna and her friends. Deep down, you knew that they couldn't control you. But you were also terrified of the possibility that they were right about you. What if you were somehow linked to the dark forces that threatened the land? You reached your railings and your hand clenched the edges, taking a deep breath for a moment and looking up at naked night sky, It seemed impossible to you that you could be evil or dangerous. Yet, the thought of the prophecy lingered in your mind, sending a chill down your spine. The moon hung high in the night sky, casting a tranquil glow upon the world below. As you stood on your balcony, gazing up at the celestial beauty, a whirlwind of questions and concerns swirled through your mind. The soft silver light illuminated your face, highlighting the worry etched across your features. A heavy sigh escaped your lips, carrying with it a sense of helplessness that seemed to permeate the air. You longed for a simple solution to the dilemmas that plagued your thoughts, but the answers remained elusive, drifting just beyond your reach. With a heavy heart, you reluctantly turned back inside, seeking solace within the confines of your room. The sanctuary it provided was a welcome respite from the chaos that consumed your thoughts. You knew deep down that you were lost, unsure of where you truly belonged or which path to follow. Yet, you were determined to find your way, no matter how treacherous the journey might be. You were resolved to face the truth about being the Chosen One, to prove Luna and her doubts wrong. As you made your way towards your bed, the soft rustling of leaves outside your balcony door caught your attention. Your senses heightened, a sudden surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. It was as if someone or something was watching your every move, lurking in the darkness just beyond your reach. Frozen in place, you strained your ears to listen, hoping to discern any clue about the mysterious presence. And then, without warning, a shadowy figure materialized in the doorway, bathed in the ethereal glow of the moonlight. Its face remained concealed, hidden within the depths of darkness, but an unmistakable malevolence radiated from its very being. Fear gripped your heart as the figure lunged towards you, its body soaring through the air with an eerie grace. Panic set in, and you desperately scanned the room for an escape route, but the only way out was through that very door. Your hands trembled uncontrollably as you fumbled with the doorknob, your fingers slipping and sliding across the smooth surface in a futile attempt to find purchase. Time seemed to slow, each second stretching into an eternity as you fought against the encroaching figure. At last, with a surge of relief, the door swung open, and you stumbled into the dimly lit hallway beyond. The creature's footsteps echoed behind you, its breath hot and ragged against the nape of your neck. Your legs threatened to give way beneath you, but you refused to succumb to the paralyzing fear. You had to keep moving, to outrun the darkness that pursued you. Just as hope began to wane, a glimmer of salvation appeared on the periphery of your vision. A narrow hallway beckoned to your left, its shadowy depths promising a fleeting respite. Without a moment's hesitation, you propelled yourself towards the passage, every fiber of your being burning with exhaustion and determination. The creature persisted, its steps growing louder and more frenzied with each passing second. Its presence was suffocating, a weighty dread that settled deep within your bones. The air grew heavy with the stench of fear, mingling with the acrid scent of desperation. Stealing a glance over your shoulder, your heart nearly stops when you see the monstrous creature chasing after you. It's a shadow hound, its sleek form shrouded in darkness, with eyes that burn like rubies. The sight sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. Without a moment's hesitation, you spot a narrow hallway to your left and instinctively sprint towards it. The pounding of your feet echoes in the corridor as you push yourself to the limit, your lungs burning from the exertion. The creature's relentless pursuit fills the air with a frenzied energy, its heavy footsteps growing louder and more menacing with each passing moment. The oppressive presence of the monster weighs heavily on you, suffocating any hope that you can outrun it. But you refuse to give in. Your legs carry you further and faster than you ever thought possible, your mind focused solely on escaping the clutches of this terrifying creature. Just as you fear that the hound will overtake you, a glint of something shiny catches your eye in the corner of the hallway. Without thinking, you extend your arm, feeling the rush of air as a knife grazes dangerously close to your skin. The creature behind you screams in anguish and pain, then abruptly falls silent. You turn around, breathless and trembling, to see the lifeless body of the hound slumped on the ground, a knife embedded in its head. As you catch your breath, a whispery voice reaches your ears, barely audible. "Be careful." The words send a chill down your spine, and you look around, trying to identify the mysterious helper, but find nothing. Grateful for the intervention nonetheless, you try to make sense of the situation. How did they know you were in danger? Who were they? Lost in contemplation, a card suddenly materializes in the air and floats towards you. With curiosity, you reach out and grasp it, revealing the figure of a jester. "N?" you mutter, puzzled, surveying the corner where the glint had caught your attention earlier. But there is nothing there, only an empty corridor devoid of any clues. A sense of unease settles over you as you scan your surroundings, realizing that silence accompanies you. No servants, no sign of life, only the echoes of your own breath. The hound's body fades into wisps of shadow, the knife falling to the ground with a resonating clatter, a haunting reminder of the danger you narrowly escaped. In that moment, you feel a shift in the air, a flicker of movement that sends a shiver down your spine. A breath of wind brushes against your skin, the sound of a footstep barely audible. Every nerve in your body tenses, and without a second thought, you whirl around, your eyes widening at the sight of a woman standing behind you. Luna stands there, her sapphire eyes gleaming with intensity, a dagger firmly gripped in her hand. "Are you under attack?" she inquires, her voice laced with concern and determination. You can't help but feel a mix of panic and confusion as you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, "I don't know... It all happened so fast." "You're lucky that you had help tonight," she said, nodding towards the knife on the ground. "Or that wouldn't have been just a warning." You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry. "The...knife," you manage to croak out, your voice wavering with a mixture of fear and disbelief. "It came out of nowhere." A sigh escapes Luna's lips, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of sadness and vigilance. "Come, let's alert the others of the attack. It's not safe to remain in this castle anymore." Silently, you follow Luna, your mind swirling with disbelief and horror. The wound on your shoulder begins to throb, the pain pulsating with each step. Vulnerability and exposure wash over you, the adrenaline wearing off, leaving you raw and exposed. As you make your way down the hall, you can't shake the feeling of Luna's gaze burning into your back. The distrust is palpable, and you can't blame her. She knows that danger lurks in the shadows, and you are now entangled in its web. You can hear her footsteps quicken, a light tap-tap-tap that keeps time with the beat of your heart. The sound reverberates through the empty hallway, a constant reminder of the tension and unease that hangs in the air. You want to reassure her that you're not a threat, that you mean no harm, but the words stick in your throat, trapped by the fear that courses through your veins. She pauses, glancing over her shoulder at you, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and suspicion. You can see the weight of her worries, the burden she carries on her shoulders. "You should go with me," she finally says, her voice cracking slightly. "You're in too deep, and clearly someone wants you dead." Her words hit you like a cold gust of wind, sending a chill down your spine. You try to maintain your composure, to appear strong and confident, but inside, doubts creep in. "I appreciate your concern," you begin, your words laced with a hint of sarcasm. "But I can handle myself." Luna arches her eyebrows, her irritation evident on her face. She takes a step closer, her gaze piercing through your defenses. "Don't be foolish," she retorts, her voice thick with frustration. "The one that sent that monster is very sloppy, and if it was me who did the job, you wouldn't be breathing right now. No one has ever escaped my blades." You stand there, struggling to comprehend what is happening. Luna's words echo in your mind, and you find yourself searching for an escape route once again. The weight of the situation settles heavily on your shoulders as you try to find the right words to respond. "Luna, I am grateful for your help," you say, biting back your frustration. "But I can take care of myself." The corners of her mouth quirk upward slightly, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "That's cute," she replies, her tone dismissive. "But you'll need more than just a card to protect yourself." She gestures towards the card in your hand, her blue eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Where did you get that, anyway?" she asks, her voice laced with doubt. You pause, unsure of what to make of Luna's behavior. The tension in the air thickens, and you can't shake the feeling that something is not quite right. "Are you suggesting that I'm responsible for what just happened?" you ask, your voice growing cold. "Don't be ridiculous." She ignores your comment, her gaze scanning the surroundings, her body tense and alert. "We need to report this to the others," she says, her voice low and serious. "Their Majesties will not be happy knowing that their defenses are breached and their beloved guest almost got murdered." You frown, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. Luna's words imply a conspiracy, a hidden threat lurking within the castle walls. "Maybe you should save your questions for the king and queen," you say, brushing past her. "As for me, I'm done dealing with you." You quicken your pace, eager to put some distance between you and Luna. As you make your way towards the main hall, the grandeur of the castle surrounds you, but the sense of unease never leaves. Shadows dance on the walls, and you find yourself silently praying that the place isn't deserted. N, a mysterious figure as elusive as the mask they wear and the cryptic messages they speak of. If you ever encounter them, you know there will be answers. But until that happens, you are on your own. The hallways grow more and more deserted as you walk, and you can't help but feel a knot of dread forming in your stomach. Every step you take is filled with uncertainty, every corner turned with caution. The air is thick with tension, as if the walls themselves hold secrets yet to be revealed. You can't shake the feeling that danger lurks in every shadow, waiting to pounce. [[Next|Author Story]]

You crossed your arms, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips as you gazed at him. "As I admire the view, can you cover it? I can't afford to be distracted right now!" Lucian dusted his hands, his muscles flexing as he walked over to a rack of weights. "Don't blame me if you're getting distracted easily," he replied with a playful tone, a hint of cockiness in his demeanor. Your eyes widened in mock shock. "Is that sass?" you exclaimed, feigning offense at his newfound confidence. You couldn't help but enjoy this playful banter with Lucian, a stark contrast to the shy and reserved young man you had known in the past. His transformation was both intriguing and endearing, and it was a delight to witness his newfound confidence, even if it came with a touch of sass. Lucian, now wearing an uncharacteristic expression of confidence, smirks back at you. "Maybe I have to worry about my training style too," he says, his voice dripping with playful arrogance. He effortlessly lifts the dumbbells, alternating between sides with impressive speed and precision. Unable to tear your eyes away from his flexing muscles and the intensity on his face, you continue the banter, feigning offense. "What happened to the Lucian that was shy and adored me?"you teased, a playful glint in your eye. Lucian chuckles, the sound both endearing and captivating. "Don't worry, I still adore you, MC, but the shyness needs to go," he replies, his expression turning serious. "The things that happened in the past still bother me." Your concern for him grows, and you reach out, wanting to ease the tension that hangs in the air. "Can I help you with that?" you ask, your voice filled with genuine care. "Maybe, only time will tell," he responds, lifting another set of weights with determination. You insist, your voice filled with sincerity, "You know I'm here for you no matter what, right? Please don't hesitate to lean on me or any of the others. We all care about you, Lucian. We don't want you to feel alone and unsure." Lucian sighed, still apprehensive but touched by your words. "I appreciate that, but I must learn to be independent," he reasoned, though his eyes softened with gratitude. "And stop looking at me. It's distracting!" You couldn't help but let out a low laugh, thoroughly enjoying this playful exchange. "Sorry, but it's hard not to stare. Your muscles are quite impressive," you complimented, your eyes appreciatively roaming over his sculpted frame. A faint blush tinted Lucian's cheeks, but he quickly refocused on his workout. "Thanks, but that doesn't change the fact that you're a distraction," he teased, a fond smile playing on his lips. "Don't you have anything else you should be doing?" With a cheeky grin, you leaned back, continuing to watch him. "I have plenty to do, but I can multitask. I'm checking on you and supervising your workout at the same time," you insisted, unable to resist a chuckle. "I never thought I'd see the day," he teased back, his demeanor relaxing. Your eyes widened, curiosity piqued. "See what?" you prodded, eager to hear more of his playful banter. "The day you'd get caught up watching me," Lucian replies, his lips curling into a mischievous smile that tugs at your heartstrings. "I thought you said that was distracting!" "It is," you admit, your voice filled with warmth and affection. "But it's also nice to spend time with you. Maybe we could spar or have lunch together sometime," you suggest, hoping to bridge the gap that's been widening between you. His eyes lock with yours, and in that moment, a glimpse of the old Lucian, the one you've missed, shines through the layers of pain and suffering. His guard momentarily lowered, he admits, "That means a lot, <<print $player_name>>. You have no idea how much your friendship means to me." Your heart aches at the thought of what he's going through, and a surge of protectiveness surges through your veins. Your hand rests on his shoulder, a tangible connection between you two. "Let me help you, Lucian. Let me be there for you." His eyes darken, a storm of emotions swirling within. "It's not that simple, <<print $player_name>>. I don't even know who I am anymore. How can I expect you to understand?" "Then make me understand, Lucian!" you implore, your voice carrying the weight of your emotions. "Let me in. Let me be there for you. Stop shutting me out." "You're the only one who seems to care," he confesses, his gaze now fixed on the ground. "And the rest of them are idiots," you quip, a touch of humor creeping into your voice. His eyes meet yours again, and a spark of warmth ignites between you two. For a brief moment, you forget the darkness, the pain, the fear, and revel in the bond that has grown between you. However, the mood quickly shifts as Lucian takes a deep breath, his expression growing more serious. "But that's not the only thing that's been bothering me," he admits, his voice heavy with uncertainty. He turns his back to you, moving towards a rack of bows and arrows on display. As he stands in position at the firing range, he withdraws an arrow from his quiver and notches it onto his bow. "I'm worthless!" he begins, his voice laden with self-doubt. He releases the string, and the arrow flies true, landing on the bullseye with a resounding twack. Curiosity piqued, you follow him. "What else is on your mind?" "I'm worthless," he says bitterly, his hands deftly selecting an arrow and nocking it on his bow. "Lucas The Protector, Clara The Princess, Variel The Dragoness, and you, <<print $player_name>>, The Chosen One. Me, on the other hand... No one gives a thought about me." His words pierce through you like an arrow hitting its mark. You can feel the weight of his self-doubt, his sense of inadequacy, and it pains you deeply. "Lucian, that's not true," you protest, your voice determined. "We care about you. We need you. You're an important part of our team." He shakes his head, his bitterness unchecked. "It's different. They all have their roles, their titles, their abilities. I'm just an afterthought, a fill-in when no one else is available." "Fill-in?" he scoffs, his tone laced with self-deprecation. "More like a liability or a parasite." As he releases another arrow, frustration surges within you. "How can you say that about yourself, Lucian? You're so much more than that. You're brave, and strong, and kind, and caring, and loyal, and..." "Stop it, <<print $player_name>>," he interrupts, his voice laced with pain. "Stop trying to make me feel better. I know the truth." "Well, the truth is different for me," you declare, your determination unwavering. "And I'm not going to let you give up on yourself." He sighs, a sense of defeat creeping in. "Look, you're making this harder than it needs to be. I'm not going anywhere. Just accept that, okay?" You lean closer, your gaze locking with his. "But I don't want to lose you, Lucian. I can't." "I'm sorry, <<print $player_name>> for making you worry, but you're not losing me. I just need to prove myself to the others," he says, turning his back on you and moving toward the firing range, his steps deliberate and heavy with purpose. You take his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin and the calluses from countless hours of training. "Don't be sorry," you whisper, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. "We're going to get through this. Together." "I can't ask you to do that, <<print $player_name>>," he responds, his voice tinged with pain. "I have to figure this out on my own, and besides, you have your own role to play, and I don't want to be a burden." "Lucian, you're not a burden," you assert, a surge of determination coursing through you. "You're my friend, and I'm not going to let anything happen to you." He gazes at you, his eyes searching yours as if seeking some form of absolution. "Don't give up on me," you plead, your voice cracking with emotion. "I can't lose you. Not like this." "I'm not giving up, <<print $player_name>>. I'm just being realistic," he says, his tone weary and resigned. "I have to prove my worth, and I can't do that by relying on the others. I need to figure this out on my own." "And I'm here to help you," you reply, determination surging within you. His gaze lingers on you, his expression inscrutable. "I appreciate that, but I can't drag you into this." You shake your head, frustration boiling within you. "Stop pushing me away, Lucian. I'm not going anywhere." A wry smile graces his lips, a touch of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Well, it's good to know that I have a champion," he says, his tone light and teasing. You roll your eyes, a small smile forming on your lips. "It's not like that. I just want to help you." He continues to study you, his eyes probing and deep. "I can't let anyone know what I'm going through." "Why not?" you demand, your voice filled with frustration and empathy. He shrugs, a sense of hopelessness settling upon him. "Because if people knew what I was really going through, they would laugh at me. They would think I'm weak and pathetic, a shell of my former self. And being associated with me will not do wonders for your reputation." "That's not true," you insist, your voice unwavering. "Your friends wouldn't think any less of you for struggling with your loss." He shakes his head, his sense of despair unyielding. "You don't understand, <<print $player_name>>. I can't let anyone see how broken I am. If people knew the truth, they would look at me differently. They would pity me, and that's not something I can bear." You can't help but admire the determination, the resilience, that seems to emanate from every pore of his being. "Plus, I think Variel would think otherwise," he adds, chuckling bitterly. Intrigued, you ask, "Why do you say that?" "She's a dragon, <<print $player_name>>. She's lived for hundreds of years. She's seen so many people come and go, and she's probably heard the stories of countless battles and heroes. To her, I'm just a passing blip in her long, immortal life. A footnote in the grand scheme of things." He sighs, a sense of resignation enveloping him. As you confront Lucian, a surge of anger wells up within you. "But she still cares about you, Lucian. I can tell," you reply with conviction, your anger at his self-deprecating thoughts palpable. "She doesn't care if you're a god or not. She values your friendship, your loyalty, your honesty. She respects you, and she sees your worth." Lucian's shoulders slump, fatigue evident in his every movement. "Maybe, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm still the weakest link. I'm the one who has to rely on the others to save me, the one who always falls behind, the one who constantly needs protection. She may care about me, but she also sees my limitations. And I'm pretty sure that you're just saying that to make me feel better." Your determination doesn't waver as you respond, "I mean every word, Lucian. You're not weak, and you're certainly not a burden. You're an integral part of our team, and we need you just as much as you need us." Lucian gazes at you, his expression a mix of uncertainty and gratitude. "Thank you, <<print $player_name>>. Your words mean a lot to me." Despite your reassurances, he requests, "Look, <<print $player_name>>, I really appreciate you coming here personally, but I wish to be alone for now. Let me do my own thing." You respect his request, realizing that sometimes solitude is necessary for self-discovery. "Of course, Lucian. Take all the time you need. We'll be here when you're ready to return." With resolve in his eyes, he declares, "You have my word that when everything is said and done, I will come back stronger than before. I'll be someone who is worthy of your trust and loyalty." A genuine smile graces your lips as you respond, "That sounds like a plan, and I can't wait to see how you'll emerge, Lucian." As you watch him walk away, his figure receding into the distance, a sense of admiration and awe washes over you. Despite the losses and the hardships he's endured, he remains steadfast, determined, and committed to his self-improvement journey. His resilience is truly a sight to behold, and you can't help but feel inspired by his unwavering spirit. With a newfound sense of purpose and determination, you set off, ready to face whatever challenges may arise, and leave him to his own devices, knowing that he's on a path of self-discovery and growth that will ultimately lead him back to his true self. [[Next|Lucian Montage]]

Hey there, dear readers! That was quite the cliffhanger, wasn't it? Chapter 5 left you hanging on the edge of your seats, and I promise Chapter 6: "Together We're Different" is going to be a rollercoaster ride you won't want to miss. Picture this: You and your comrades, tired but determined, have convened in a clandestine war room. The night is still young, and everyone's in their cozy bedtime attire. Tensions are running high as you discuss the recent attack that shook your world. Lucas, passionate as ever, slams his fist on the table, declaring, "Claire is the mastermind behind all of this!" Heads nod in agreement. Lee chimes in, "No doubt about it." Just when you thought things couldn't get any more intense, Queen Isobel steps forward with an air of regal authority. Her voice carries the weight of destiny as she says, "Very well, as the dawn breaks tomorrow, MC and the four of you will embark on a journey. A journey to find my friend, for she might hold the answers we seek and the cure for Variel's mysterious ailment." All eyes turn to Variel, who sits in silence, her hand over her chest, avoiding the gaze of everyone in the room. What secrets does she hold? What is the true nature of her ailment? The intrigue thickens, and the anticipation reaches a fever pitch. So, dear readers, get ready to uncover secrets, face new challenges, and explore the depths of this captivating story in Chapter 6. It's a chapter that promises to keep you hooked from the first word to the last. Stay tuned for "Together We're Different" – it's going to be epic!