Les Desserts - TheUnknowingHerald - ダンジョン飯 | Dungeon Meshi (2024)

Chapter 1: Roupa Velha

Chapter Text

-*-

Marcille had always loved good food. Making said food though… let’s say that magic was a complex and dangerous topic. Once she got drafted into the Academy, her brain locked any knowledge her parents imparted to her into the restricted section of her mind’s library.

She was half a mind to ask Laios to go inside again and break in, but it’d kind of defeat the point of why she needed to get in there. Instead, here she was, in the deserted kitchen of the castle she moved in last week, just before sunrise, trying to put out a fire.

“C’mon Marcie, it’s freaking grilled cheese. It can’t be that hard just because it's not from a regular animal!” She caught herself screaming mid-cleanup. She really needed to work on those outbursts. It’s a good thing the sun hadn’t even risen else someone might see-

“Something wrong Mar?” Marcille nearly jumped over the counter when Falin plopped her head on her shoulder.

“You two have the worst timing known to man,” the half-elf groaned, shifting herself away from the invader. “What are you even doing up and about at this hour anyway? Doctors said you should be taking it easy!”

“Hmmm… I think my sleep schedule is all kinds of screwed. Iwas dead for a good while, that sort of counts as being asleep, right?” Falin said absentmindedly. Marcille could almost feel steam blow out her ears. The nerve of these siblings!

“No, not at all, nope, nada! I’m not even going to entertain that thought. Now stop being a child get some rest!” “Mar” should have known better than to close her eyes before she started scolding her, because sure enough, whatever she had said had flown right into the empty space where Falin had once been.

“How’re you struggling with something like this? Brother said you were basically a sous-chef down in the dungeon.” The young woman’s eyes had slit open just a tiny bit at the sight of the mess Marcille made and the “sous-chef” nearly decided that the window was as good an exit as any.

“Not by choice!” she spat back, crossing her arms, and turning dramatically. They stood there in silence for a minute, her former classmate and now housemate clearly wanting more out of her. “Alright, alright! I’m good at taking orders, okay?!”

“No, no you’re not.” Falin practically hit Marcille in the face with a pan with how much there was on her tone.

“I mean… urg. If I have a recipe, I can follow it just fine. But no one writes recipes for monster-based food!” she screeched, pre-emptively countering the incoming dig with: “No one sane.”

“Hmmmm. Is that an admission of insanity?” the girl’s golden eyes trailed across the counter, and she picked up Marcille’s notebook. “Oho, “Laios’ Birthday Surprise” is it? I guess that’s why you can’t just ask him.”

“When have you learned to be sassy? Is that a dragon thing?” Marcille snapped at her classmate.

“Well, he was rather snappy…” Falin shrugged with a smile before making biting motions.

He was snappy on your brother’s leg! Marcille screamed in her mind while her mouth simply noted: “I’m going to keep a tab on that. Just in case.” Aaaaaand the awkward silence was back. “Anyways, you’re right, plus, Senshi’s off hunting monsters for ingredients since they have been weirdly scarce of late. So, I’ve been just… trying to figure things out myself. I tried to follow normal recipes, but the textures and composition of monsters are just too different from regular animals, meaning…”

“Got to get your hands dirty. Literally,” the tall-man girl pointed out, clearly examining the mess Marcille had made of her kitchen wear. “Mar” herself nodded absentmindedly and tasted the leftover cheese on her mitt and cringed.

“To less than stellar results.”

Falin’s head swayed like a bell as she immersed herself in thought. Just as it was starting to get awkward again, her ever-so-slightly-slit eyes sparked open, and she said:

“How about just asking my brother?!” Marcille wanted to groan but the woman in front of her looked like she had just discovered a new spell and she was tired of being a downer.

“Falin… wouldn’t be much a surprise there, would it?” Plus, she would feel like Laios would be helping in his own present and the guy had enough on his plate already.

“Oh, c’mon Mar, I’m talking me asking him.” Laios’ sibling said, pouting at the perceived pandering.

“I… don’t know. He’s probably busy with the whole king thing, plus I-“

“Great! I’ll bring it up next time we get tea together. I just need to know what kind of plate you’re thinking.” Okay yeah, Marcille was now crossing her fingers that that dragon blood influence in her was temporary.

“I… would like to replicate a childhood favourite.” Her mind wandered back a couple weeks while she was under the control of… no, while she was allied with that wretched demon wearing a lion’s skin. “It literally changed my life… saved it really, I’d like to at least show him that I appreciate it.”

“Childhood favourite… I think I have an idea.” She said, turning around and looking at the counter. “We probably should get this cleaned up before the kitchen staff wakes up though.”

“I’m not going to be able to convince you to let me fix my mess alone, am I?”

Marcille sighed, walking up to the counter herself and considering summoning some water before hesitating and just rolling up her sleeves.

“Have you ever?” Falin teased as the two girls got to work.

-*-

A few hours later, Marcille was out and about town. You really wouldn’t think that what was essentially the apocalypse had happened a couple weeks back. The populace had been remarkably quick to move into recently un-sunken kingdom. Things had not stabilized yet of course, but with the help of some magic and elbow grease, one blink from Marcille and one building or another would have been renovated.

She wasn’t here to sightsee though, the bells had just tolled seven times, meaning she had to force her sleep deprived body to do its best running impression to reach the city gates in time. Thankfully, she could spot the caravan from afar, they hadn’t departed yet.

“Is that… Marcille, over here!” She heard as she passed by one of the few already functioning establishments in the city, a cafe. Occupying one of the few outside tables were a darker skinned tall-man and a very tired looking elf.

“Kabru, I’m so glad I got here in time,” Marcille said with a smile, feigning a bow to lean in. “What’s the Canary creep doing here?”

“I can hear you Donato,” replied the lazy eyed elf as he absentmindedly sipped his cup. “I don’t have any tall-man in me to dilute my hearing.”

“F-Fine! What’s Mister Kill-First-Ask-Questions-Never doing here?!” She knew that she was already walking a fine line legally speaking, but that line struck a chord.

“You’d look a lot more intimidating if you didn’t look like you’re about to slip into a coma,” he didn’t even meet her eyes, with his prosthetic one or otherwise.

“Alright you two break it off. Mithrun’s on leave from the Canaries and that’s why he’s coming with our caravan,” ever the sole sane voice in a discussion, Kabru sighed, probably hoping this wasn’t an omen for the voyage to come.

“On leave? You can do that?” That’s the first she had heard of that. The regimen for those poor souls was said to only end after the permanent trip to the grave.

“Unfortunately, it seems like your king has infected our Queen with his… disposition. She’s been a lot less predictable. Case in point, you not being behind bars,” Mithrun said, not a hint of aggression in his voice. As blunt as he was, Marcille couldn’t help but agree. People had been hanged for much… much less than what she did.

“Well, I hope you have fun on your vacation,” it was a reflex, chalk it up to the sleepless night, but Marcille froze in place. No matter the animosity between them, that was just a heartless thing to say to someone who had lost almost any and all desire. Maybe all of them with the Winged Lion gone.

“It's alright, the sentiment is not hurtful,” the Canary replied, his gaze ever so slightly shaken. “In fact, I'd prefer your hopes to be well founded.” Marcille tried to say something, anything, but her legs gave out and she fell onto a chair that Kabru had slid behind her just in time.

“No use dwelling on a slip of the tongue Marcille. Got something for us?” the tall-man prodded, standing in-between the two again. Made it easier for her to snap back at least. She reached for her bag and pulled out a scroll and a trio of letters.

“Y-Yes. Here, the letters for the Toudens,” she handed the first two, then layered the last one with the scroll. “And my mother's village should be easier to find with those annotations. I really did grow up on the middle of nowhere,”

“Well, that’s not too far off route. I think. I’ll go check with the caravan’s leader. Please don’t make a scene you two.” And with that, he hurried along to the crowd behind them, leaving the two former lords to do their best impression of cordiality.

Marcille could leave now, she had finished what she came here to do, and really, this guy was dangerous, wasn’t he? Even if he didn’t spare her a look, one slip up and he’d be behind her and then…

“How've you been dealing with it?” Mithrun asked, still not giving her the courtesy of a look. “The holes it left behind,” Marcille could almost audibly hear her heart tumble to the ground. It was easy for her to push that common link aside. Still, she had no answer. She didn't want to think of an answer. Any time those thoughts wormed their way into her mind, she'd always find something else to worry about. And of course, he chose this time to stare at her. “I see. That was my experience with it too. If anything, you're taking it a lot better than I did.”

Marcille felt like she should ask him about his experience with it. Maybe something about the symptoms. Maybe just give him a compassionate answer for his worries. But no, she really only wanted to know one thing.

“Does it get better?” she whispered, nearly mouthed.

“No. But your life can.” Her expression must not have done her any favours despite how much effort she put on smiling to that second line because the elf kept going. “I don’t… feel the need to eat, but I appreciate it in the moment. I don’t feel the need to sleep, but the stillness leaves me refreshed the next morning.” There was an uncharacteristic softness in his voice. They hadn’t interacted much, and granted the good first half of them came when he was trying to kill her, but she still instinctually knew how much it took for him to be talking like this. “It may take you a while to figure it out, I did. But you’re in better company, that tends to speed things along.” His eyes didn’t betray any emotion, but they did trail to his newest friend in the back arguing with the caravan leader about the detour.

“I’ve already burdened them enough. I can’t just-“

“I don’t think they’ll give you a choice. Clearly, they didn’t the first time,” he looked up to the sky. “If it wasn't for Milsiril I'd have died, starving in a rocking chair. It's an unavoidable part of recovery,”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better about it,” she was no senile old lady and she refused to be cared for as such. If anything, she needed to be there to care for her loved ones when they inevitably rotted away.

“Frankly that’s not anyone’s job but yourselves to get over,” the soft smouldering in his tone came back, he looked at her like he was about to punch a mirror. He sighed and finished his drink. “Look, you’ll probably not want as strongly as you did before. Your pleasures will feel more faded. But the latter will still be there, and you can still find something else to want, just hopefully it’s healthier than single-minded vengeance.” As he said that Marcille saw that, unfortunately, the one emotion he seemed to manifest perfectly well was regret.

Still, she couldn’t deny that her worries felt just a bit less heavy when after talking with someone who had made the same mistake and suffered the same consequences as her. There was only one other person that she could address like this and she didn’t want to rain on his parade after all.

“You know what… I think I’m starting to mean what I said earlier. Hope you find something to want on this trip,” she said with a smile, holding out her hand to him. Mithrun looked down and rolled his eyes but did shake her on it.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting, but the caravan leader wants us to get going 5 minutes ago if we are taking that detour.” Kabru said as he hurriedly grabbed his backpack from one of the chairs and started pushing his traveling companion ahead of him.

“Thank you again for this Kabru, you’re being a big help,” the half-elf said as she straightened herself back up.

“You’re the one staying here to keep Laios in check. If anything, I should be thanking you. Now, off I go before he shows up,” he seemed to be jesting but in the back of his eyes she could almost see the spectre of the newly appointed king looking menacingly with a huge smile on his face. In fact, he seemed to hurry the elf along even harder afterwards.

“Marcille.” Mithrun interjected, catching her on the back foot. That was the first time he had used her name, wasn’t it? “I think you need to hear this too. We may both be leftovers, but that doesn’t have to make us any less delicious, does it?” She doesn’t know what stunned her more, the genuine smile that came with that statement, or the fact that it came with a food analogy. He really had hanged around them for too long.

By the time she had recovered she could only wave as the two joined the caravan.

“That’s the most I’ve seen you talk,” Kabru joked as he poked his companion with his elbow, earning nothing more than a sarcastic growl in return.

“Something to want, huh…?” She mumbled, just standing there, lost in her thoughts until the eightfold toll of the bell announced that she was late to yet another appointment.

-*-

Or she would be, if the one who had set this up wasn’t still in bed by the time she arrived back at the castle.

In fact, the bell had long since tolled nine times by the time the door to the throne room opened, snapping Marcille from her pacing.

“Remind me to never schedule anything this early again…” the rascal of a king told Mr. Tansu, the former de facto governor of the island given the previous tall-man's ineptitude. That flighty noble had seen no reason to stay in a place he couldn't rule, so there was very little stopping Laios from hiring the gnome and his wife as assistants, and he sorely needed some.

Tansu seemed about to go on a rant but caught himself on the presence of Marcille and instead shot her a cold look and gestured at Laios' crown.

“Right...” Marcille rolled her eyes and took a bow. “'tis good to see you, your... your... Hi-Your...” she could feel bile rise up her throat. She looked up for a bit and Laios looked nearly as traumatized as she did. He quickly kicked a screaming Tansu off the throne room and locked the door.

The duo immediately relaxed before erupting in a fit of laughter.

“N-Never try to call me that again!” he managed to let out between wheezes. Marcille had managed to recover slightly faster than him and had already gotten inches away from him by that time... only to smack him, repeatedly, with Ambrosia.

“That's for making me wait over an hour when YOU decided on the time!!!” she screeched, feigning as much annoyance as she could. She really had lost the capability to stay annoyed at her party on such trivialities after what they had gone through, but this was one thing she was glad to lose. “But yeah, you're not getting anything more formal than plain-old Laios to me.” he beamed back at her:

“Alright, that's one fear crossed off the checklist,” she couldn't tell if he was serious or not, but at this point she had accepted it. “Anyway, why did you come here?” and there it was.

“You are the one that called me here! You forgot?!” Marcille screamed, only holding herself back from smacking him again because her staff would stand no chance against the rock head of this fool.

“Oh... oh riiiiiiight! I had two favours to ask you.” He said, his sunny, puppy-like smile contrasting with the incredulous and disaffected face Marcille was making. He towards the door and leaned in, to whisper: “In private.”

“Laios you…” Marcille began, exasperated, but realizing what he meant, she grabbed his cloak and dragged him all the way across the throne room, away from any possible prying ears. “As I was saying, you’re a king now, you don’t ask favours, you give orders!”

“I don’t think you usually get away with smacking your King upside the head though,” he replied instantly with a proud smirk.

“… you win this time,” she was way too tired to get in a debate, with Laios of all people. “I hope you also remembered what you were going to ask.”

“Alright, first one. I admittedly got this idea from you, kind of,” Marcille raised her eyebrow as Laios struggled to find words for it. “Ah fish sticks, I'll cut to the chase. Have you ever considered following your mother's line of work?”

“Oh, I know you aren't implying what you're implying,” Marcille pinched her nose's ridge, feeling a headache coming.

“I mean, you're easily the person I trust the most, and you're a great mage plus a bookworm. I can't think of a better choice for my court mage,” he tried to keep the mood upbeat, but by the time he finished his sentence, he had gotten the hint. “You're free to say no if you hate the idea so much,”

“Hate? No. It's just... I'm a wanted criminal outside of this country. Think what that'll do to your reputation for a second!” she did her best not to yell, but... this guy just had no awareness did he.

“Believe me, I know, my first decree did save your ears from freezing in an elven prison,” if it were anyone else, you would think that this was Laios' attempt at blackmail, but he stated it purely matter-of-factly. “Look, if that's what's bothering you, don't. The elf queen was more than happy to let you go, plus, again, I trust you and I have no intention to listen to anyone's complaints if you accept.”

“T-That's not all, I think?” Marcille's head was pulsing at this point. She couldn't really put it into words, but something felt wrong. “I need some time to think. I do want...” Full stop. Want. She did want this, didn't she? That was rare these days. Then why was it so hard to accept?

“Don't worry, take your time. Official coronation won't be for a while, gotta settle the town first. I'll look for alternatives but say the word and you'll get the job over anyone else!” Laios said excitedly, earning a small nod of approval from his would-be court wizard. “As for the other thing. You wouldn’t mind resuming your mentor role… whenever you have time of course? It would be separate from taking up the job, just something between friends!”

“Mentor? Oh, you want me to teach you more magic. I mean, I don’t mind, but why?” Marcille tilted her head in confusion. Sure, Laios had weirdly taken to magic as quick as his sister and teaching him was one of the warmest set of memories she got from their little adventure, but a tall-man king, with such a limited lifespan, would have better things to do with their time.

“Well, for one, I want to carry my own weight. I don’t want to end up as the previous governor,” Laios said in uncharacteristic seriousness. Between his stoic expression and his glamorous, Lion themed garments, Marcille could almost confuse him for a king. Almost. “Plus, we had lots of fun, didn’t we? I finally understood what Falin saw in this whole magic thing!” And illusion shattered!

“You know, I can’t disagree with that last bit. Surely you can find someone more qualified by now though?” She really didn’t have any idea of what she was doing when she taught him, would be easy to find a Royal Instructor candidate.

“You kidding? I’d take no one else for my teacher!”

So that’s how my brother figured out magic. I’m glad.

I could ask for no better person to teach my brother!

“Geez these two...” Marcille breathed out, unable to contain her dumb smile and reddening cheeks. “Even if I wanted to, I'd not be able to say no after that kind of request. Let me just get some prep work done so that I can actually teach you beyond the basics. If we're going to do this, we're going to make you all those elf diplomats green with envy once they see how you utterly outclass them!”

“You really took the Canaries' attack personally, didn't you?” Laios said, a dumbfounded look on his face.

A furious knock on the door interrupted the two. Marcille snapped out of her revenge planning and Laios sighed, resigned to having to play catchup the entire day.

“One last thing though,” Laios walked up to her and pushed the mess passing as bangs away from her forehead for a better look. “You're awfully pale. Feeling under the weather?”

“J-Just bookworm things,” Marcille stuttered, pushing away the hand as fast as possible and moving past him. That was the third time today someone pointed that out, but she really didn't know why. Laios didn't seem entirely convinced, but he didn't pry further. “Well, good luck on your kingly duties, your Laios-ness,” she gave him a mocking bow and opened the door, ignoring Tansu as she hobbled into the corridors.

-*-

With the last pressing matter for the morning done, the mage couldn't push the problem into the back of her mind anymore. She was barely walking in a straight line and the morning sun seemed a heck of a lot darker than usual. She leaned on the wall and checked her temperature with her hand. Seemed normal to her. Still, should she see a doctor?

“Let's see what I have on my medicine cabinet first...” she said, not noticing how the words slurred out of her in a barely comprehensible mess. She headed in the direction of the staircase that connected down to the underground floor while trying to figure out what may have caused this. She hadn't cast that many spells lately. She absolutely hadn't pushed herself physically. There wasn't any disease going around town that she knew of and she had been out of the dungeon long enough to have any lingering effects be unlikely. “Urg, my brain feels like it's been dipped in muddy water. Reminds me of those all-nighters before a test!”

It clicked. When was the last time she had even wanted to sleep?

The moment of realization caused all the pent-up exhaustion to hit her like a truck, alongside the dread that came with the discovery of something else that she had given to that lion of her own accord. She needed some air. So, she turned to open the window and… who’s that?

Staring back at her through the window was someone else, right? That couldn’t be a reflection, she’d never wear such depressing outfit. A dull, feathered gown, almost all her features hidden away in a curtain black as night. Only a piercing, judgemental stare remained. Her heart stopped. The reflection did nothing as Marcille backed away, and seemed resigned when she missed the first step in the stairwell.

And everything went dark.

Chapter 2: Camellia Sinensis

Chapter Text

-*-

It was chilly. She should probably say it was cold, freezing even. But the comfortable pitter patter of hail just outside the window, the thick woollen blanket keeping all but her rounded extremities safe, it was all things she had experienced many times before. So much so that it had taken her the better part of a year to get used to what most people would call "normal" temperatures.

The half-elf tucked herself deeper, hiding from the familiar cold. The warmth of the bed was matched only by the warm nostalgia in her chest. A lone, soft chirp raised her from her stupor, it too sounded oh so familiar. Enough for her to poke her head out of her blankets again.

This was... her home, right? A small cottage's room, furnished by the same wood that made up its walls, it still had her desk on the opposite side of the room, had to avoid the temptation of sleep after all, herbs still dangled to dry just above it and opposite of her bookshelf, which packed to the brim with barely used books but 24 incredibly worn out ones, still holding her traveling cases. Her face warmed up even more when she saw that in one of her desk's chairs was still her oversized bear plushie that her father gave her when she was a bit too old for it and… even Pipi's old roost. But, not nearly as empty as before.

“Wait... Pipi?!” the girl shrieked, throwing away her blankets and racing towards the side of that bird. Her bird? As much as she wanted to be apprehensive about it, one of her defining memories had been losing him after all, a part of her knew it was him. The golden plumage almost exuding its own light, the proud stance that immediately dissolved into mischief as soon as Marcille was in range, the way it jumped on her shoulder, pecking the tip of her ear knowing it would send all sorts of tingles down her spine. She dared not question it, not right now. Not when tears flowed down her cheeks and feathers caressed her forehead.

A teapot's whistle eventually ended the moment, Pipi all too eager to jump off her shoulder as soon as she reflexively opened the door. On the other side of the door was another unlikely sight. Just down the hallway, in the kitchen, was an elf woman, swivelling and swaying as she prepared the table. Pipi landed on her shoulder and pecked at her former owner's ear just as he did Marcille, this calling the woman's attention to the hallway. The older elf excitedly waved at her and beckoned her to the table.

“Well! Aren't you the oversleeper now? I remember when you were the one getting us out of bed!” Marcille's mother playfully chided, walking up to her, pinching her daughter's cheek. Clearly noticing Marcille's panic to explain how everyone she met had been a terrible influence on her orderly habits, she added: “I'm glad you mellowed out darling. You seem happier now!”

“I do...? I guess it's because I'm seeing you all again. Though, I'm not sure how I ended up here...” try as she might, she only vaguely remembered walking down a corridor in the Golden Kingdom. “And why are you still living here? You had moved out while I was at the Academy.”

“Oh... your memory's slipping again...” her mother's face momentarily drooped, but like she always did, Marcille saw her will a smile back to it. “Don't worry, it should all come back by the end of the day. If not, we'll visit a healer again,”

“W-What are you talking about?” Marcille gasped, panic starting to well up inside her again. Her mother simply took the teapot and served her some tea. Her special blend of camomille tea, the only tea plant that grew up around a town with such harsh winters. Like she had done so many times before, the daughter pushed away the panic for long enough to sit down and sip on the tea.

“It's nothing to worry about now. You've been at home recovering from that awful fall you had in the castle for a while now. You have some episodes here and there, but you're not a burden.” Those last words cut through Marcille's emerging mental hangups like butter. “Your friends were worried you were pushing yourself too much at the castle to properly recover, so they convinced you to take an extended leave. In fact, we were going to visit them today!”

“That... does sound like me. I'll have to ask Laios and Falin if I apologized already...” Marcille replied, drowning her worries in her mother's tea. “If I did, I'm sure they'll give me another earful!”

“I am sure they would love to.” her mother's voice told her, terse, nearly breaking halfway.

Wind suddenly blew on Marcille's hair, her feet now soaked as the only thing protecting her from the tempest outside was her mother's umbrella. When had they left the house?

Then, she saw it.

“In loving memory of Laios and Falin Touden.” carved into an obsidian tablet right next to her father's gravestone. Even her mother's second husband had been added below Donato's name.

“H-How long have I been... No. NO! Not like this!” Marcille cried out, crumbling upon the cold, unforgiving obsidian. “You can't be gone. I can't even... remember…”

A hand placed itself on her shoulder. It was cold. Harsh. This was not her mother's hand. Startled, the half-elf fell on her back, staring up into a mirror of a time past. Cloaked in a dress as dark as the gravestone, shawl covering her ears and fashioning them into fake, non-half breed ones, the penultimate Dungeon Lord stared down at what was left of herself, emerald eyes having long lost their lustre.

“What's wrong? Not even one of our pets died unfulfilled.” the facsimile of the Dungeon Lord asked. “Was our resolve then that weak?” she spat as the rain in Marcille's cheeks mixed with tears.

The entire point of our journey was to learn how to accept death.

“Do you wish to bring them back?” a mocking tone accompanied the half-elven Dungeon Lord's extended hand.

This time, I'm ready to accept that outcome.

“How quaint, from the person who condemned them die young. But I guess we never were ones to accept and forget.” Marcille crawled away from the beast in front of her. She bit her lip, trying to wake up were this a bad dream, but she was still there, facing the nightmare of her own making.

And so, she did what she had always done. She ran. A vitriolic laugh chased her, louder and louder, even as the Dungeon Lord stayed behind.

“Each of them will only die once, but cowards like us will die with them just as many times! You can't run from our nature!”

As she ran down the hillside, for the second time in what felt like a few minutes, Marcille lost her footing and tumbled down. Enveloped in a strangely warm white sheet of snow, the hill became a precipice and the precipice an abyss.

Before she knew it, she smashed into… something.

“Got you!” She heard as her air got forced out of her when an object slammed into her back.

Her eyes jutted open after a few laboured breaths; her chest cavity stuck between two hard places. She wasn’t ready for a slightly pained, but excited pair of amber eyes staring back at her.

“She’s awake Falin!” Laios shouted, his sister’s head immediately poking over Marcille’s right shoulder so that a second pair of gold eyes pierced her.

“Mar! Do you have any idea how worried you... made... us?” Falin tried to scold, or Marcille thought it was her. It was so hard to see with all the water welling up in her eyes. She tried to hold the flood back, but a simple: “Just let it out.” was all it took for all the frustration and fear she had stored away in her subconscious, that had just haunted her moments ago, to come pouring out.

The Touden siblings simply held her as she bawled her heart out against Laios' shoulder.

-*-

“When did you figure it out?” Laios asked the girl in front of him, now calmer and back on her own bed. Apparently she had violently rolled off the bed and dragged Falin with her when she tried to hold her in place, before Laios managed to hamper their fall. Her head was heavy after nearly a quarter of an hour crying, but her chest felt a lot less tight after she confessed her inability to desire many things she did in the past. “I thought it was just your hair.”

“It's... not something I know until it gets pointed out. Or worse. Far as I know, it's just not being able to crave sleep and not wanting to style my hair.” Marcille replied as the door opened to the missing Touden sibling.

“Thankfully Laios followed you down the hallway, your right arm and left leg were a mess from what he said,” Falin said as she conjured up a flame under the tea pot she had procured.

“Wait, really?” Marcille gasped, feeling up her limbs. “You fixed them on your own? Outside the dungeon?”

“I've been keeping up my studies!” Laios said with pride, a pride that Marcille couldn't contest that it was warranted. This was no small feat for someone who learned healing magic within the last few months.

“I'll have my work cut out for me if I am to teach you, I see.” Marcille replied with a small smile, a cup of tea suddenly hanging in front of her.

“Laios would always brew this tea for me after a good cry. Try it,” Falin said with a smile as she let go of the levitation spell even before Marcille grabbed the cup. She managed to catch it of course, but that didn't stop Laios from scolding his sister while she investigated the cup.

The smell was so similar to her own. It made sense, they were all Northerners, and Camomile flowers were one of the few that could survive in those gelid lands. Still, it was just distinct enough to not pour salt on her recent wound. Plus, when she took a sip, it tasted completely different. Amazing even.

“Amazing! This isn't just some regular old tea, is it?” Marcille beamed, looking at the two who had just stopped fighting. And then, that massive grin showed up on Laios' face. The one that she feared most. His monster grin.

“You caught it, huh?! I used some mandrake leaves alongside the camomile to make that blend!” the two siblings shared a glance and high fived each other at a successful experiment.

“Of course, you did...” Marcille replied, trying to sound annoyed but the smile had not left her face.

“Now! Onto business!” Falin said as soon as all three finished their drinks. “You, Miss Mar, need some help. And we're going to give it to you.”

“I suppose you don't mean to “offer me” help, right?” Marcille sighed.

“The only thing we're offering here is that you can decide who starts the shifts.” her schoolmate answered resolutely.

“Shifts...?”

“We could guess you were dodging sleep even before you woke up, so we had drafted these shifts to make sure you were getting some sleep going forward. Your story just made these a necessity.” Laios told her, holding up a bunch of scribbles in paper way too expensive for such atrocities in writing.

“I would rather die.” Marcille spat back, her eyes glaring daggers at both, but at Laios in particular. “A lady needs privacy in her own room!”

“But Mar, you spent the last few months sleeping with us,” Falin said, completely unfazed by the phrasing that had just turned the half-elf into a tomato.

“Don't word it like that! Plus, adventuring is completely different! I am not letting a man stalk me into my room and tuck me in bed!” she screeched, the siblings just sharing an unconcerned look.

“That's alright. I'll tuck you in and Laios will check in the morning to see if you actually slept.”

“That's...” Marcille desperately wanted to say no, but these two were as stubborn as elephants and this time they DID have a point. “Acceptable...” she groaned, glaring even more daggers at both.

“At least say it like you mean it!” the Toudens shouted back in unison.

After a few moments, the inseparable trio shared a hearty laugh.

-*-

It was already sunset by the time they finished the tea, so Falin decided to simply go grab dinner for both of them while Laios left Marcille's so-called womanly temple.

“Reminds me of our sleepovers at the magic academy,” Marcille commented nostalgically in the middle of dinner. Marcille noted how both her and Laios ate enough for five people now. That and the feathers on Falin’s neck made that time feel so far away. And yet, thankfully, she had not forgotten. Not yet.

“Right. Last one we had you finally convinced me to try those books of yours...” Falin said, absentmindedly looking around the empty room. “Say, you still keep them around?”

“Last time I lent them to you, you just fell asleep on the second volume,” Marcille replied with the biggest pout. She absolutely adored “The Daltian Clan”, but the entire party seemed to bounce off it immediately. “Even Chilchuck is unable to see the beauty in the river of love! And he's married!”

“Oh right. We got a letter from him. He's on his way back already. Says he's bringing guests.” Falin said, nearly getting blinded by the radiance of Marcille's expression after hearing that.

“Oh my gosh, is he bringing his kids?! Maybe even his wife?! I bet they are so adorable!!” Marcille nearly twirled off her bed just thinking about it. Now she really had to get this sickness under control. How else would she be a model for those girls to aspire to?!

“Oh, so that's why he warned me not to tell you,” Falin said with a mischievous grin. “Now, where were those books again?”

Still with her adrenaline pumping from the information, Marcille jumped off her bed and ran to the other side of the room, quickly spelling a few magic words and removing both locks of her huge, 5-meter-long chest that she had levitated into her room.

“Somewhere in here!” she said excitedly, quickly realizing what she had just said when she looked at the piles upon piles of clothing and books that were inside. “Aw bollocks...”

Falin gave her a reassuring smile and the two steeled themselves to find twenty-four needles in this haystack.

Nearly had hour had past when Falin suddenly asked: “Mar, how do I taste like?!” as she examined the title of a book. Silence. The girl turned around to see her former classmate's soul attempting to claw itself from its ghostly pale body.

Marcille's brain for her part had been stuck on a loop, endlessly droning thoughts like: I want to die, why am I not dead, can I get to the window before she tackles me...

Falin definitely noticed, and beamed back a smile of support that would put the sun to shame. An old, infallible way to get Marcille's gears turning again. Not this time though.

“Sorry, it's just that I heard from Senshi that theoretically tall-men should taste the same as pigs, so-” she led with genuine curiosity.

“Oh, is that right? I'll have to k̶i̶l̶l̶ talk with Senshi about it,” Marcille replied with the biggest, most slit grin known to man. “Don't listen to that rockhead, you made every dish worth eating!”

“Oh, then I really need to find a way to get a taste,” she told Marcille, her expression genuinely scaring the half-elf with its honesty. “I think I read something about replication magic somewhere...”

“D-Don't start delving into ancient magic for a forbidden snack!” Marcille knew exactly where she had read it, a tome that she had to tell Falin was just a rare, family heirloom and absolutely not a stolen book from the restricted section of her school. “Especially when said snack is just you!” oh she especially wanted to die now.

“Oh, bold.” Falin even caught on to the inuendo that slipped out, it took all Marcille's power to stop herself from doing anything drastic. “Don't worry Mar, I know what you meant. I'm just a bit jealous about everything that you guys did when I was gone.”

“Ah... right. Well, we bought you a second lifetime with those adventuring spoils, so you'll have long enough to make us jealous of your own exploits.” Marcille gently reassured, raising her eyebrows at Falin's split second downcast expression. Before she could prod any further the younger Touden produced the first volume of “The Daltian Clan”.

“I was beginning to lose hope! We really must get you settled in once you’re feeling better,” and just like that, it was all smiles again.

“Y-Yeah.” Marcille sighed and scooted over to the side of the bed, right next to Falin's chair, and hung her head just above her shoulder to get a good look the contents. “I haven't done my yearly reading, but don't mind me, read at your own pace.”

“Yearly? Mar, we really need to find you a better hobby.” Falin replied, moving her hands through the worn and hoarse pages. “And another set of these. They'll fall apart any day now.”

“Look there isn't exactly a lot of literature with my kind in mind.” if Falin had something to say about that, and she absolutely did, she didn't, instead wordlessly opening chapter one.

Marcille for her part had already read through the first few pages of these books so many times that she could recite them from memory, so she found her mind drifting to what she had said earlier. Why would Falin be so jealous about their own little adventure? Sure, she may not encounter quite as many monsters in her own time, but she wasn't quite as crazy about them as her brother, and she had her entire adult life ahead of her to explore the world, especially with her brother's status and wealth.

She was going to try and poke tiny holes in Falin's defence through book commentary, but, as soon as she looked to her left again, she had brought to bear the most formidable defence of them all.

“How are you asleep already?!” Marcille screeched, doing nothing to break through the unawakenable object in front of her. “You know, you can just say these are not for you...” she sighed, trying to pry the book from Falin's hand, but it was like trying to pull out a sword from a stone. “Fine, be that way. I guess we've both been avoiding sleep.”

The supposed patient peeled back one of her layers of covers and flung it over the supposed caretaker before wrapping herself in the remaining covers like a burrito.

-*-

When she next gained awareness, she shrunk under her covers reflexively. Maybe if she just hid in bed through the night she’d not have to deal with ghosts.

Still, something was off. Didn’t take long for her to start sweating from her entire body. It was way too warm. It was never this warm at home.

Call her gullible, she’d retort by naming herself an optimist, but this was enough to incite enough hope for her to cautiously pry open her eyes and poke her head out of her blanket.

This was definitely not her childhood abode again. This room was spacious, if quite empty, and but it tugged at the back of her mind. Right, she hadn’t really spent much time here, but this was her given room in the Golden Kingdom’s castle.

Her head drifted off to the side to look out the window and to the… strangely high morning sun. If she didn’t know any better, that looked like it was way past noon.

“Did that buffoon forget to- “she croaked, rising to a sitting position and rubbing her eyes to get a better look at her room.

SNORE

Falin did not snore like this. Marcille's eyes practically became slits and a headache threatened to overtake her as she slowly turned her head to the chair the Touden girl had fallen asleep on.

“This country is doomed.” Marcille groaned, reaching for her half-full glass of water, and sending all of its contents flying into the face of her current caretaker.

“Kelpy attack!!!” Laios screamed in a tone far too similar to excitement for someone who had just fallen off his chair headfirst. “Oh. It's just you.” his face immediately drooped when he locked eyes with his patient and he wordlessly stood back up.

“Don't you dare sound disappointed with me! You were supposed to wake me up!” Marcille said, spinning her arms to smack some sense into him but he had gotten too good at knowing when not to be within 10 feet of her.

"I don't remember agreeing to that at all. I was here to make sure you had gotten some sleep. That sounds like the opposite of waking you up,” from anyone else, this would read as sarcasm. Unfortunately, he was genuine. “That and this is the last place that grouchy old man would look for me...”

“What is it with you two using my room as a bunker?” Marcille mumbled remembering the times where Falin would jump under her bed to hide when a teacher was looking for her in particular. She picked herself off the bed and began to grab her clothing for the day. “What are you still here for? Shoo.”

While he clearly did not want to leave the safety of the room, Laios acquiesced without a word. Well, at least until he closed the door behind him.

“Can I ask you about something weird?” she heard from the other side of the door, causing a shiver to jolt up her spine. She practically jumped off her sleeping clothes and into her day robes before answering.

“You’re scaring me Laios, what can you possibly feel like describing as weird?!” She asked, hoping against hope that it was just a comment on some dumb monster trivia.

“Did Falin… ask you what she tasted like?” his voice faltered from the other side, and he nearly fell into her room when Marcille pulled the door open.

“Oh, thank the gods, it wasn’t just me!” an incredibly relieved Marcille shouted at the one person that she could share this with.

“I wanted to die!” Laios shouted back as the two had a shared flashback before hitting each other’s foreheads with their own to push it away.

“Me too! I mean, who even thinks-”

“How do I explain to her that she tasted very differently depending on the condiments?! Is not being able to hone in on her taste proof that I'm a terrible brother?”

Oh. Oh right. She really was the only normal person in this dumbass trio. She slammed the door shut again and finished prepping her bag for the day. She passed by the mirror to see if she looked presentable, and she deemed it so, even with her hair noticeably unstylized. What she didn't expect was for that idiot to still be on the other side of the door.

“Who are you, my butler?” as she said it, she wondered if she could get away with asking for one... and immediately stamped out that thought when the imagery of those posh full elves from her novels popped up in her mind's eye.

“Falin asked me to make sure you can handle a staircase,” he replied, thumb pointing down the stairs.

“I am not made of glass!” she yelled as she stomped her way down the first steps, her shadow close behind. “Plus, I'm sure there'll be plenty of stairs and ladders on the library anyway, so unless you want to stalk me, I'll have to handle myself for the day regardless.”

“So that's where you have been hiding since you came here. Didn't you say that it was...”

“Little more than a trash heap yes. It's been hundreds of years since the Golden Kingdom fell, most info recorded there is outdated, but, well, for example, that's a good thing for topics that are less accepted nowadays. In short, I'm dumpster diving,” she told her soon-to-resume-pupil, who gave her a surprisingly understanding look as they finished clearing the staircase.

“Well, if you find some weird curse on the place, do give us the call. Good luck down there!” and just like that, he was gone. She didn't know how to feel with how weirdly trusting he was given what had happened when she last tried to “dumpster dive” with old forbidden knowledge, but she guessed it was better than the alternative. “Oh, and Marcille? Don’t push yourself!” she heard echoing down the hall.

“Opposite goes for you Your Laziness, get to work before Tansu yells my ears off too!!” Marcille yelled back. Try as she might though, she couldn’t help but smile through the entire thing.

-*-

“You’re done already?!” Marcille could barely hold back her excitement as Falin handed her back the first volume once she came to check on her later that day.

“A dream woke me up before sunrise again and gave me a craving,” replied the former chimera. “Hope you don’t mind me jumping ahead…”

“Oh, I’ll catch up before you know it! What made you interested this time around?” with all books lined up nicely on her newly furnished shelf, Falin hadn't even had time to finish her sentence before she got handed the second volume.

“I... think I can relate to it better?” Falin broke eye contact midway through the sentence.

“Really?! I never could relate to Uriale. I mean, some noble coming down from the skies and handing me nobility? I mean how farfetched is that...” realization dawned on the person that had been asked to be a king's court mage not even 48 hours past. “Well, we had to earn it!” she confidently added, missing a dejected sigh from the person standing in front of her.

“By the by. I managed to pry some info from my brother about your little project.” Nor did Marcille notice the complete 180 that Falin immediately forced on the conversation. The tall-man girl reached for her saddle bag and pulled out a small scroll. “I'm finding replacements for the ingredients one at a time so that he doesn't catch on. Most of them are either in store or a part of the hunting party's schedule, so we should have them by the time Senshi's back. This one though...” She pointed towards a red underline.

“Minotaur meat? Well, they did have them as livestock here...” remembering her stay in the imitation of the Golden Kingdom, Marcille wasn't sure if she should be happy or annoyed that that particular detail had not translated here. “But since they clearly are no longer here, you'd need to find a labyrinth and hope that one to had claimed it as its territory. And what are the chances of having one of those in walking distance?”

Falin's mouth opened into a toothy grin. Marcille took a step back as the younger Touden pulled out a second scroll, a map of the castle town's surroundings to be exact.

“You cannot be serious...” equal amounts of relief and horror poured into the mage's spirit when she saw a huge X marked in fresh ink on top of a nearby hill.

“Namari will meet us at the gates in a few hours. Better get some sleep!”

Chapter 3: Minotaur Tartare

Chapter Text

-*-

“What is even the point of designing something like this?!” Marcille, for the life of her, couldn’t understand why she was standing in front of massive, pure marble door carved into the slope of the tallest hill in view of the capital. It even came adorned with two pillars housing golden winged lions at their top.

“I asked Yaad about it before coming here. He called this a mausoleum for the Royal line.” Falin explaining reminded Marcille that she hadn’t even visited the longest-term residents of the Kingdom after officially moving into the castle. She probably should… even if she really didn’t want to.

“That would explain the labyrinth. Even if I don’t agree with their choice of security. How’s Yaad and…” she struggled to say the name that caused their lives to diverge so much.

“They will probably be let out of the infirmary soon. Like you surmised when you examined them, they seem to be functionally human again, somehow.” The former chimera paused and broke eye contact, a very rare, if very faint look of anger furrowing her brows. “Thistle’s… medically alive.”

“I’ll visit Yaad on the next shift to see if I can get him out. Lord knows Laios needs some help running this country!” Thistle’s successor said with as much pep as she could muster, succeeding at least in pushing the issue aside. “Now, how do we get in?”

“I mean, you can blast it open, right Mar?” Falin stated matter-of-factly as she poked Ambrosia.

“That could cause the entire thing to crash down on us after we get in! If we even do!” Marcille massaged her brow and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Where is Namari? She was never one to be late.”

“Oh, good, you’re done chatting.” The dwarf’s voice called out from… somewhere. Marcille instinctively looked down and then to her back just in case she had missed her for the size difference alone, but she was really, nowhere to be found. “Glad I’m here or else you’d really need to blast that thing open.”

The ground beneath both then gave way and the mage just barely caught a glimpse of Namari moving out of their and letting them fall into a heap.

“Geez Namari, a word of warning before you do that next time...” Falin mumbled, sitting back up... on top of Marcille.

“At least your bone structure is hollow...” Marcille groaned, being pretty sure Falin would have broken at least some ribs if she weighed the same as a normal human.

“How was I supposed 'ta know you were literally atop of the entrance?” the blacksmith paid them no mind as she went back up a ladder to close the trap door.

“What's that giant door even for then?” Falin asked, looking around. They did in fact seem to be inside a structure. They had fallen inside a surprisingly well kempt room, furnished with a couple beds, a giant map on the northern wall, a couple of barrels, a desk and an orc holding a torch. What?

“To keep raiders like you out of the real thing.” The orc stated flatly, giving a small nod to Falin before sneering at Marcille.

“Oh, hey Chief!” Falin waved, the name plus a better look at the orc finally letting Marcille put two and two together. As racist as it definitely would sound, it still took a lot of effort for her to tell orcs apart, but this one was the one that gave them the map to find the Red Dragon. He was also the one that locked them up!

“What's this guy doing here?” Marcille didn't know why he was here, but it was too early for her try and guess, so she just directly asked Namari.

”We live here, knife-ears. You're the one trespassing,” the orc answered for her, who seemed content just letting her company sort things out.

“What?! This is basically one big grave!”

“How’s that any different from the dungeon?”

“That’s… huh…” and the half-elf had, just like that, lost the joust.

“How nice of them to lay out a map like this.” Falin posited, observing the one on the wall.

“Hardly, it's fake.” Namari had just finished lighting up her own torch. Marcille sighed. Why did the Golden Kingdom insist on making things so unnecessarily complicated. “Is why I got his help. His group's been mapping these catacombs ever since the Golden Kingdom rose up.” she saw Marcille and Falin open their mouths and cut them off. “They are great customers,” the blacksmith adjusted a belt buckle with a golden lion emblazoned. The orc smirked and swung a far more elaborate spear than the ones they used in the dungeon. Very dwarven too. Namari worked fast as always.

“Alright, welcome to the team, mister... Cap'n?” they hadn't even exchanged names back then, had they?

“Just to stop ya from using those names. Name's Zon. I am our Orc tribe's Roc,” The orc captain stated, immediately gritting his teeth at the reaction of the two girls in front of him.

“D-Don't laugh Mar...” Falin told her, despite the fact that she was giggling even louder than her best friend.

“But it's one letter off orc...”

“This title is named after the mighty beast that my father duelled to the death to gain us our former shelter. One more word out of your mouths and this will be your tomb too.” there was not a single shred of hesitation on his tone, but even then, the girls took a few moments to compose themselves, much to Namari's dismay.

“Wait, your father killed a Roc? By himself? That's... incredible actually,” Marcille managed to get out once she had calmed down.

“You know what that is, knife-ears?”

“It's a massive bird-like monster that is said to be able to carry entire boats on its claws, isn't it? Your father must have been tough as all hells to take one down by himself,” she rattled off from memory. All three people in the room seemed both confused and impressed, for different reasons.

"You really are a weird one, dull-ears.” all his aggression had just dissipated, as much as he tried to hide it with his tone, that small smile forming on his right fang betrayed him. “Fine, stay behind me and you'll survive.” and with that, he headed to the eastern exit of the room, motioning the group to follow him.

“How did you...” Namari whispered as they began to follow.

“Laios prattled on about them when we tripped on what looked like the skeleton of one.” Marcille explained as a great big smile formed on Falin's face.

“It's good to have you on board the Monster Admirer Association,” she said, running off before Mar could do anything.

“I'm not a part of your weird club!” Marcille screeched, chasing the scamp who had dared imply such a thing.

Namari audibly groaned before chasing after the rest of her group.

-*-

“So... the kid doing alright?” Marcille asked after a while of following around Zon through increasingly indistinct tunnels. She could only hope he was better at distinguishing them than she was.

“Yer really an odd one, aren'tcha?” Zon raised his brow at the half-elf so carelessly tethering next to someone who had more than once threatened their life. “Bahay's doing fine. Only thing I'd change is that he's gotten way too curious about the outside.”

“What's wrong with that? You're probably in the only country in the entire world that would consider you tribe part of their society.” she thought back to Laios wondering if Orcs should qualify as monsters. Regardless of what answer came to his mind, didn't seem like he was gonna treat them any different.

“Must be nice to live like that dull-ears.” Zon replied with a distinct tinge of disappointment splattered all across his face and voice. “I thought, after what you did, you'd understand our position.”

“After what I...” Marcille froze on the spot. He wasn't accusing her of anything, it was just an objective statement. “People do keep their distance from me but...” he was right. While orcs did pillage and steal for a living, in the grand scheme of things, she had done something far, far more dangerous, for a much flimsier reason than survival. “That's not right.” a fire she thought extinguished began to crackle inside her.

“It is what it is,” that dejected answer only stoked it further.

“No. I got a second chance. Your entire race shouldn't, no, cannot, be denied one.” she clutched her fist and ran up to the orc who was now nearly out of view. “I'll bring this up to Laios. I'm sure he'll agree. If we put our heads together, I'm sure we can give you a better place to live than a cemetery! This your country as much as it is ours.” the orc Roc just laughed.

“By the bones of my ancestors. Senshi only attracts idiots.” Marcille felt like smacking his daylights out. “But the last one to make such a dumb promise somehow got it done. Got high hopes for ya, dull-ears.”

“Alright, no more name calling, my name is Marcille, not dull-ears.” Marcille replied with a fake pout, still feeling more awake now than she had in weeks.

“That ain't an insult, but fine, if it shuts you up.” he shrugged and just kept going. Marcille touched the tip of her ears as she followed him. To her, they weren't dull enough.

Then, those same ears tensed.

“Marcille!” she heard Falin yell, staff already drawn. As mages, they had both felt it immediately. The fluctuation in the mana's leylines, like a river overflowing. This was...

“So, they still exist. Dungeons.” Marcille pulled out Ambrosia and archived the previous topic for later. They had to be nearby. “I hoped the Demon had taken them with him, but I should've known better.”

“This one's small. But Zon thinks it's why the orcs were drawn to this place.” Namari explained, drawing her own axe. “Think they made one to protect whatever's buried in here.”

The group quickly reorganized into a frontline and a backline as they approached a light at the end of the corridor.

They stood at the entrance to a room lit entirely by magical fires. It was a large, nearly empty circular room, gold doors carved into every inch of its walls. The only thing of note beyond the intricate sun-pattern that encompassed the floor was a giant suit of armour at the centre. It held an axe taller than Marcille herself, but it stood eerily still. Thoughts of living armour momentarily passed through her mind, but then she saw what was on its head. Its helm had been fit with a couple of protrusions perfectly sized for a minotaur's horn. That and corpse of an orc scout at its feet told all that needed to be said.

“Everyone. The moment we step foot in this room, that thing will be unfrozen. If we're gonna plan, it has to be now.” heeding Marcille's warning, Namari pulled Zon back from engaging immediately at the sight of his men's corpse.

“That armor's one hell of a masterwork. Our weapons aren't going to do anything to it,” the blacksmith explained, staring back at Marcille. “You're going to have to blast it off.”

“Got it. But a spell that strong will have a lot of windup and won't travel fast. You'll have to distract him and then hold him down.”

“I'll knock him flat on his ass then. That enough time?” Zon was already raring to go, and truth be told, Marcille wasn't quite sure. Something was off. But she knew he wasn't going to stand there for much longer, so she gave a tentative nod.

“We are in a dungeon, so don't worry about losing a limb or two. Just don't die though, the mana here isn't as thick as in the Lion's dungeon, I don't think it's enough for a resurrection.” Falin added, not doing anything to help Marcille's nerves.

The warriors nodded at each other and readied themselves. Falin patted Marcille's shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile. The mage gave the go ahead.

The warriors charged. The time around the armour began to move again. All three combatants roared.

“Sperae.”

The mage began her chanting in tow, visualising the sun as to call out a fraction of its powers. She immediately began to sweat. She must have chosen the wrong tunic.

The minotaur swung its axe in a wide angle, as close to the ground as he could manage, but his size was not on his side, as the swing was just high enough that Namari slipped past it with a simple slide while Zon soared above it.

“Yeptum.”

Ambrosia began to tremble as its wielder's eyes glazed over, a miniature replica of of the sun forming at the centre of it's opening.

Namari and Zon swung at the beast, Namari using the blunt side of her axe and Zon his fist, hoping to cause a single moment of disorientation. They did not earn it.

“Rufermus.”

Instead, the one to do so, leaping from the shadows and in front of the armoured monster, was Falin, commanding a blinding light to detonate inches away from the slit on its helm.

The miniature sun floated above its summoner, expanding rapidly. First the size of her fist. Then her head. With a single word though, it became something much more.

“Alamandras.”

Something was off. Marcille could hear her clothes crackle, feel her skin burning, see her vision distorting with the heat. She dared not look up, a lapse in concentration would detonate her spell inches away from her, but she could not help but hesitate.

Zon dove towards the corpse of his fellow orc, his hands reaching the rope it had tied to his waist. Falin, however, had forgotten one, very important thing. A bovine's most important sense was its sense of smell. The minotaur could all but see her, and without hesitation, brought down his axe on the one that had taken its eyes.

Marcille stopped hesitating.

“Proju.”

The ground quaked beneath her and the tips of her hair caught fire. This was too much. She had to hold it in place.

Namari was there for the save, pushing Falin out of the swing, but losing her left arm in the process. It did not matter, not in a dungeon, Marcille assured herself.

She could see Zon's rope tightening around the Minotaur's legs. She had to finish her spell. Now.

“Nexant!”

The entire room became awash in a crimson hue. All three of her companions, even her prey, stared back at her. Why did they stop? She only needed one final word to launch her spell!

The minotaur was the first to recover, grabbing the rope and hurling Zon across the room, whizzing right past Marcille, like he had aimed him at her. She didn't hear any impact before the monster charged straight at her.

This would have to do. Marcille chanted a small, precognition spell to divine his immediate actions. She saw him attempt to gore her. Good.

“Asla-!”

The precognition spell kept going, farther than she knew possible to divine. There was nothing left, only a smouldering crater and burning white feathers.

Marcille finally threw caution to the wind and looked upwards. She had created a monstrosity. A sphere of flame that melted the ceiling and walls, pulling their remains inward to fuel itself even further. It had gone super nova.

In a panic, she shut down all of her mana, severing the connection, then chanted her strongest dispelling magic, hoping to force this thing back into the void before it detonated.

This magic too, was eerily efficient. In less than a second, the miniature super nova was gone.

She began to sigh of relief, but then she remembered.

She saw the Minotaur in time to dodge. His horns speared through the air in her direction. Anyone's instinct would have kicked in. Hers did not. She just stared at it, unable to will herself to jump away.

“You moron!” Zon made that choice for her, tackling her out of the way at the last possible moment. Blood was spilled, but it was not hers. The two tumbled through the half-molten tiles, the orc landing atop the half-elf he had just saved.

Marcille could see her tunic fill with blood. The horn had caught the side of her saviour. She instinctively started chanting healing magic, even as the minotaur approached them. It seemed locked in on just her, something she felt morbidly glad about. Maybe, when that greataxe swung down, the only thing that it would cleave was her head.

The creature heaved, and with one great bellow, it heaved the axe down with the strength of a hundred men. And yet, it did not reach its target.

“Not here!” a frail tall-men girl's hands had completely halted the swing. Marcille could not believe her eyes as Falin materialized in front of them and simply grabbed the axe's handle. Her hands could not even grip it, but, even as the floor beneath her cracked, she did not even flinch. “Not again!”

In one, unnaturally swift moment, the former chimera ripped the axe out of the demi-ox's hands and separated its head from its shoulders, helm cleaved like butter.

Just like that, it was over.

“Falin...?” Marcille called meekly at the display. They had done their best to bring her back. But had they failed?

“I'm... I'm alright. Just a bit... tired.” she replied between laboured breaths. She turned, giving Marcille a weak smile before collapsing.

-*-

Falin was stable, just asleep. Once Marcille realized that, she quickly headed to Namari and, very carefully, stitched her arm back together.

“We're going to have to talk about what the hell just happened,” She warned between pained groans. Marcille nodded, but first she had to even understand what did. First, however, she ran back to Zon and examined his wound. The massive hole and gash through his torso would be a mortal one if he were anywhere else. But not here, she wouldn't let it.

“Why would an orc jump in front of someone like me?! Think of Bahay!” she yelled, tempted to punch his still intact face.

“Yah still have a promise to keep, ain't letting you off the hook that easy Marcille.” The Roc replied with a pained laugh. Marcille wanted to scream at him, but she was in the middle of her own fight. These wounds were closing far too fast. If she didn't slow it down, she may leave him with something far worse than a wound. It felt like she was holding together a broken dam by herself. Fortunately, it held.

She fell back into a sitting position before taking another look at her surroundings. Minotaur was still, very, dead, no extra defence mechanisms either. When she saw the scout's corpse though, she had an idea.

Resurrection is impossible outside of the Island's dungeon. But, this dungeon was made by the same people, so, it should work under the same rules. Even so, the mana around her had dwindled to merely a spec of its former self, so, she shouldn't be able to resurrect him.

And yet, all she needed to do is to not hold back her mana for his wounds to vanish with a simple twirl of her staff.

“Something's definitely wrong...” she whispered to herself but couldn't help but smile when her patient's chest began heaving for air. She turned back to Zon and gave him a thumbs up. The Roc returned it, and to her surprise, so did Falin, who seemed just fine already somehow.

Someone who didn't though, was the dwarf staring up at her. Demanding:

“Alright girl, spill.”

-*-

“You did ALL of this for... dinner? Really? REALLY?!” Both Marcille and Falin knelt down in front of the older woman, staring at the ground like toddlers who had been caught with a hand of the cookie jar. “You're both adults. Hells, you aren't even that much younger than me Marcille! Does this party just constantly need a dwarf to babysit them?!”

“If that's an offer-” Falin began, a swift bonk from Marcille's staff, wielded by Namari this time, cutting her off.

“Stop playing dumb Falin. I know Laios is the king, but if either of you up and died for some dumb cow's meat, how do you think he'd feel?!”

The duo fell silent. Their former party member returned the staff to Marcille before kneeling beside them.

“I'm not going to bust your chops too much, because we did make this place safe for Zon's tribe. But thrill seeking is only delaying any issues you may have. Next time you want to join me, you better have a damn good justification for coming.” she gently rubbed both younger girl's heads and stood back up, clapping her hands together. “That said, how we dragging this guy out?”

“Oh, I can teleport him out!” Falin suggest, bright as a star again.

“You didn't finish your license for that.” Marcille contested.

“It worked last time!”

“Well, I don't wanna risk you sending this guy to the moon and wasting half the point of this excursion!”

As the two butted heads, the sound of metal careening through the labyrinth's floor broke them up. Zon was just, casually, dragging the minotaur back the way they came.

“You comin'? Got my hands full though, can ya bring Mawl with ya?” he didn't even stay to hear the girls' protests at being asked to carry someone twice their size. Falin, Namari and Marcille just shared a disillusioned look and started forcing the unconscious orc back up.

-*-

After saying goodbye to their temporary partner, the girls had to hurry back to town and make themselves presentable before raising any suspicion, leaving Namari to figure out a way to sneak an entire minotaur into the capital. Marcille especially as she had scheduled Laios' first magical training for the afternoon specifically to work as an alibi.

Given recent developments, she cursed her hubris. She'd have to put on a good act if she were to avoid raising concerns. Thankfully, the person she had to trick was Laios.

“Alright, for today's lesson, I'm going to be evaluating the extent of your capabilities. After that I can adjust your training accordingly,” she looked way too full of herself, practically lighting up with pride at her oh-so-perfect excuse. Anyone else would have called her out on it.

“Understood. Though why did you take us to the patio then? I'm sure we could find some injured workers to test healing magic on.” he nearly earned himself a slap with how callous he sounded, but she knew his intentions were good.

“I've already been your guinea pig for that,” Marcille explained while moving the limbs that would still be broken by now if not for him. “And I've had long enough to suffer any side effects, and there were none. That's enough to give you a passing grade!” she raised her thumb at Laios and the tall-man reciprocated.

“So...”

“Yup...”

“Offensive magic, finally!” Laios caught himself mid-celebration, taking another look around to make sure the castle's patio was clear. “Before we start, I have a few questions.”

“You may speak, pupil of mine.”

“Are familiars Ancient Magic?” he asked, Marcille's smile fading just a bit at the implication.

“No.” she tried to keep it brief, hoping the next question was entirely unrelated.

“Great. Do you have any experience in making one?!” and her hopes were dashed. “The canaries all had fairies, and I saw you staring at them!”

Deeply unpleasant memories of a decade ago flooded Marcille's mind. The fateful night where she found out what went into the making of fairies.

“Absolutely not! Do you have any idea what familiars like fairies are made off?!” she yelled, with each word only brightening the king's smile.

“Nope, tell me!” Laios quickly pulled out a notebook and quill, magicking some ink into the tip.

“Alright but you won’t…” Marcille caught herself from finishing. That was Laios’ monster-smile, and she hadn’t such a pronounced one ever since their adventure.

Oh no, he absolutely will enjoy knowing!

She coughed and regained her posture, slightly shifting her approach.

“Before I regret imparting that kind of knowledge. Why Laios?” She noticed him blushing and breaking eye contact. He couldn’t be… “You’re not trying to make a pet monster, are you?!”

“Not… entirely?” He replied, scratching his cheek, and never meeting his teacher’s eyes.

“Spit it out or consider both your requests rejected.”

“Alright…” Laios sighed, pulling back, and sitting on a nearby chair. “I want to make a familiar based on the Ultimate Monster.” He raised his hand before Marcille could explode. “It’s, mostly, not for myself.”

“I’m listening.” Marcille gave him the tiniest leeway, just because he had been honest enough to admit he absolutely had a horse on this.

“I’ve been visiting Yaad, he’s quite talkative, and somehow still not turning into dust.” They both softened up at that. It had been her first job at the castle, checking to see if the Golden Kingdom’s residents were going to fall apart or not, between both sibling’s interactions with them, did seem about time for her to let them out. “We talked about Thistle’s time as the court mage and something called to me.”

“You’re aware of the thin line you’re stepping on, right?” Marcille asked, even if she knew the answer from his posture. He was completely aware.

“That’s why you’re the only person I’d trust with this question.” He replied, receiving a nod to keep going. “What caught my interest is that after a certain point he replaced the kingdom’s defences with monsters.”

“Laios…”

“Just let me finish. I’m aware that we can’t repeat his mistakes. He took it too far, even if we ignore the final measure he took. But remember what Kabru said about the other countries?”

The other races, especially the long-lived ones, will try to contest your claim. Maybe even with violence.

“You want a deterrent? You do realize that what you're asking for could very easily be construed as preparations to go to war, right?” Marcille warned, earning herself a careful nod from her partner.

“This idea is still very underdeveloped I admit. I mean, I'd have to run it through Kabru too, he's the one who wants to oversee foreign policy. But I wanted to know if it's even possible before I worry anyone else.” Marcille was surprised at the speed and fluency of the response. He really had thought this through. It would've been so strange having this kind of conversation with Laios a few months ago, but the longer their quest to save Falin had gone, the more of this side of him would slip out, yet she still couldn't get used to it. Both sides of this man were at complete odds with each other.

“I'll look into it.” She found herself saying without thinking. Still, in for a penny... “But there are conditions.” receiving an acknowledging nod from Laios, he continued. “One. No Ancient Magic. I know that you asked if familiars utilized it, but the knowledge required for something of this scale may very well have been forgotten for a reason. Even if I find a way to do it through it, I will not. Two. I want a say in the proceedings. That includes the go-ahead. That way, if something terrible comes to pass, you can blame it on me. It would be easy to believe, given my past.”

“I refuse.” Laios suddenly stood up, towering above Marcille, his amber eyes boring into hers. “I agree to your conditions, but I will not tie a noose around your neck. If this is our decision, then we'll both reap what we sow.”

“But Falin...”

“I know! I know okay... she's the most important person in my life. But you're second! So please. No more sacrificial plans. We were far too liberal with those in the dungeon.” Marcille could only stare as his voice struggled against itself to not break. “Me especially.”

“...Fine. No use worrying about this kind of thing before we know if it's even possible.” Marcille took a deep breath and sat back down. This transformed into something far beyond what was bargained for.

“I miss when the most serious thing we argued about was trivial things... like how to cook Falin,” Laios mummed, looking up at the afternoon's sun. This didn't fit him, his teacher told herself inwardly and so, she forced herself onto her feet. Marcille then stood on the tips of her feet and pulled Laios head to stare directly back at her. Then, realizing he had not added a “for” in-between his last two words, shook it with enough gusto to scramble whatever excuse for a brain was inside it.

“There's nothing trivial about that! You idiot! Why did I sense nostalgia from that?!”

“I mean, it was fun? And it worked out! Why wouldn't I be?” he replied, the stress from both draining as they returned to their natural habitat. Bickering.

Chapter 4: Homesick Kebab

Chapter Text

-*-

Reluctant emerald eyes stared back at Marcille from the mirror. Dawn had passed not too long ago, thankfully Laios had gotten the memo to actually wake her up, but something stopped her from just walking out the door after dressing up.

“Mages that can’t weave locks will be poor shots.” She had heard that from Professor Gwyn so many times back at the academy. She practically started every lesson appraising her favourite student’s hairdos. Falin quickly fell off her favour, but Marcille has always had an affinity to grooming her hair. She never really figured out if that statement was more than a superstition, but she hadn’t needed an excuse to mess with her hair before. Unfortunately, that desire had been a simple Entrée for a Demon.

She did,however, want to put Mithrun's advice to the test on a situation where her life wouldn’t depend on it. It was a work in progress. She was really just staring at the mirror, trying to will herself to start.

“This doesn’t add up. I’m still able to sleep by going through the motions. What’s stopping me here?”

She gave up on the mirror for now and started pacing around the room.

“Maybe it’s because sleep is an automated response? But what would that mean when you break it down?” She had learned back at the Academy that a person’s body functions entirely on logic, just one so much more advanced that it was as if the problems themselves came with their solutions. But it still meant that her body was doing something to get around her void of desire.

In situations like this, it was probably best to think simple. If one doesn’t sleep, one will eventually die. Maybe a person’s inherent thanatophobia is enough to overpower the issue? That wouldn’t help her, so she put that aside for now.

“Wait a minute, if Mithrun lost all desires except for revenge, and he was not being babysat by the canaries, then there must be something beyond just fear of death. Maybe…” she walked back to the mirror, staring down at the ribbon laid out neatly on the cupboard. “It’s about focusing on what you still have.”

Oh wow, Falin wasn’t kidding, you really look like a different person every day! That made feel oddly proud of herself. Falin would say something like that just to keep her happy, but she had just met this guy, brother or not, he meant it. She grabbed the ribbon and straightened her hair.

Why should I grow my hair out? Yours is so much prettier and I get to groom it whenever I want! While she knew Falin would say it regardless, she'd meditate every day if it meant that Falin would likewise groom her hair. So, she copied her moments and cupped her hand around her hair.

Hey, Marcille, if we make it out of this alive… can you give me some tips about hair styling? Would be a nice icebreaker with my kids. It took a lot to get this close with Chillchuck, but she loved to think that she had helped, even a bit, to heal that rift. She circled her hair with the tissue.

Your father’s the luckiest man in the world. It’s like he has a different angel caring for him every day, but it’s always his daughter. And she tied it in the same pattern that her father had first taught her.

She slowly opened her eyes back up and turned to the side. It was a plain sight. A simple ponytail decorated with her red ribbon. Something even a toddler could pull off.

Yet, she could not express the joy she felt at that moment. She had taken back a scrap of her former treasure. And all of that without someone else to share the burden. Even if she may never return to the intricate hairdos, she once fashioned for herself, this ponytail was proof that joy could still come from beyond the void left by the lion.

“Just you watch furball. I’m going to rob you blind from beyond the grave!”

-*-

She walked through the castle's garden enroute to the infirmary ward, rethinking on the events of the previous day. Her own magic betraying her, Falin's physical prowess. If it was just the later, she could attribute it to her new body, but both happening at the same time? She wondered if it was the dungeon, if so, maybe Yaad had seen happenings like this back when...

She instinctively turned around. She could have sworn she had felt something behind her. Were her senses also going haywire? If they weren't, the other option was equally as worrying.

A faint smell broke both her trail and trail of thought. A smell of home. She instinctively bit her finger to hopefully ward off nightmares. But she knew she was awake.

She was going to trail that scent. She weaved through the castle garden’s maze-like hedges, “cheating” more than once by climbing over a wall or two before she finally stumbled on a clearing, one right next to the castle walls.

There, someone who really shouldn’t be hidden in a corner of this castle spinning a couple of skewers over an unregulated bonfire.

“Oh, hey Marcille!” Laios jovially waved with one of the skewers.

“Please tell me you’re not dodging a lesson again…” she really tried to sound intimidating, but she was having a hard time keeping her fluids inside her watering mouth.

“I absolutely am.” No hesitation. Her stomach growled. “But seems like I can buy your silence, can’t I?”

“Only if these aren’t made of an eldritch monstrosity.” Who was she kidding, she’d eat anything prepared by this guy or Senshi by now. This was a war she had long since lost.

“Unfortunately, just regular sheep.” He turned his attention back to the fire. “Just like back home.” Both the tall-man and the half-elf said in unison.

A shared stare led to a giggle followed by a laugh.

“We really aren’t beating the Northerners are all the same allegations.” Marcille joked, though it was that discrimination that had made her and Falin room together back at the academy, so she owned it. “Still, did you really need to prepare this yourself? I'm sure any of our cooks could whip something up behind the counter.”

“Are you kidding me? I eat their high cuisine every day, I need a break. There's magic to food that you make yourself. It's like you can taste your own effort!” his eyes were positively glowing when he said this, something that Marcille could swear was parroted from her own mother. She never really understood the logistics behind it but...

“I guess you'd know better than me. Your parents taught you to cook this or?” she couldn't deny it made her a bit curious. Plus, this was just Laios' cooking, not Senshi and Laios' team effort and with regular animals no less! Had been a while since that had been on the table.

“Back in my village Kebab was something we only ate on festivals. I figured that if I have to deal with all the annoyances of being a king, I can at least splurge a little.” He started slicing off chunks of it into slices of bread he had brought with him. This was a premeditated escape. “Was going to save some for you and Falin but you saved me the trouble.”

“Back in my village we ate them directly from the skewers.” Marcille commented, receiving a concerned look from the king. “You two don’t get to judge me given your preferences!” She snatched the sandwich from Laios hand and dug in.

It was different from what she got at festivals, and even the homemade ones her mother made when she really begged, but sitting outside, eating food from her region transported her back to a simpler time. Before magic, lions, and kingdoms. This seemed to be mutual as no words were exchanged until both had finished their breakfast. They took a few more moments to bask in memories before one returned to the present.

“You look great by the way,” Laios suddenly said, snapping Marcille back with him. “You should show it to Falin, she’ll be relieved to see you like this too!”

“Oh. You noticed.” She smiled back and pulled a couple leaves from her ponytail. “Not my best work, but I’ll get there. Where is your sister anyway? There was something I wanted to talk to her about…” she had to cut herself off before she said why. Truth is, Falin and her had only briefly talked in the previous night before Marcille herself fell asleep, so she couldn’t broach the topic of what had happened in the dungeon yet.

“Senshi’s hunting party sent a couple injured rookies ahead. Falin’s at the wall taking care of them.” Laios said while reaching for his bag. “Here, you can have Falin’s portion. Just so I don’t get caught red-handed.”

“I… well couldn’t hurt, I guess. But Senshi’s coming back today then? Going to be a busy day at the kitchen and storage room then!” Marcille took the wrapped gift and slid it into her own bag, but once she looked back, she saw she had unwittingly poked a sore spot.

“Speaking of being busy. That’s a part of why I’m here.”

“That hard, huh?” The silence spoke volumes coming from him. “Run me through it. It helped me when I was panicking before an exam.”

“Well, yesterday I was thinking about the orc situation, and I considered giving them a village to settle, since it seems irresponsible to force them on the populace,”

“That makes sense. Both as a trial period and as a way for natural community building.” Zon and her were on good terms now, but it'd be irresponsible to act like their first meeting had not involved mass murder and an attempt at robbing them blind. Even this may be too much, but they had to try.

“Yes, but then I realized... I really don't know anything about this country beyond this city and the previous island. So that's another problem into the pile,”

“I'm sure we can find some maps somewhere in the castle.” Marcille suggested, Laios nodding along, but already starting something else.

“I don't really have the time to look is another issue. I have an audience with the masons after lunch about what structures need to be built and what to prioritize on rebuilding. Does that seem like something I'm qualified to answer? I don’t want Senshi to think I’m just ghosting them when they come back. I hoped to share a meal with all of us but…” she had heard enough.

“After lunch, hm? Guess you have time to burn. Let's keep that head fresh then.” Marcille jumped back to her feet, straightening her back and dramatically flipping her ponytail behind her back. “Pupil of mine, our lesson yesterday was derailed, and we did not get anything done. Get ready, it's time for make up for lost time.”

“Is it me or are you getting more and more into this?” a drop of sweat ran down the king's forehead whilst he followed the order. “But I'm definitely game. What are we making today? Fireballs? Bolts of lightning? Maybe ice? That last one could be great to preserve food!”

“Look who's getting into it now. First, get some meditating done. I doubt you did your hair this morning to prepare to cast magic and I am not going to turn you into a drunkard or a drug addict. A minute or two should be fine for a lesson.” Laios groaned but assumed the position, Marcille taking this chance to search her bag. Thankfully the mentor hadn't taken anything out of her bag from yesterday, so the object of today's impromptu lesson still remained. “Catch.”

Laios caught the small object midair and gave it a confused look. “A dagger? What does this have to do with magic?” he examined it for anything out of the ordinary. Unsheathed it to show a perfectly normal looking blade, no runes to be seen, really the only strange about it was the oversized round guard between the grip and the blade.

“It's a training dagger. I'm trying to adapt your immediate curriculum with your skills in mind. You trained in melee combat and there's magic to pair with that,” as knowledgeable as she tried to sound, truth be told, she had only barely passed when she was tested on this back at the Academy. Not for lack of understanding the theory but her physical prowess was... well. You know. “In short, I want you to set that thing on fire.”

“Oh. So that's what the guard is for,” Laios mumbled, Marcille nodding along. “Sounds cool! How do I do it?”

“Visualization is especially crucial for this kind of magic. Much like you have to force a body to return to its former state while healing, you're forcing your perception into the blade. The overlap between this and healing magic should make this decently easy for you to grasp,” Marcille didn’t want to admit it, but she was quite certain he’d just be better than her at it in no time.

“Would be a lot easier to visualize if it was Kensuke... had a few dreams about waving a flaming Ken back in the dungeon.”

“Unless you want to prepare Kensuke Flambée, use the training dagger first. No backtalk from students!” Laios went pale at the thought and quickly went to work on the training blade.

Meanwhile, Marcille took out her manual and a notepad, typing down some current concerns for later. She then started reviewing the theory for the spell while she waited.

Minutes passed by idly, which was to be expected. The silence being broken up by a sudden groan.

“Laios?” Marcille looked up from her book and saw her student struggling to hold the dagger in place. Like it had a mind of its own, it tried to shake itself away from his grip.

“It’s hard to… control the temperature…” Laios managed to say, raising his teacher’s eyebrow.

“That’s usually the last of one’s problems. Just stop holding it back, you aren’t at the level to cause any meaningful dama-“

Karma had caught up with her before she even finished her sentence. Her eyes and mouth became drier than a desert when a heatwave erupted from Laios’ position, less than a second before a blue flash blinded her. When she, and Laios, regained their eyesight, the dagger’s hilt lay on the floor in a pool of liquid metal, and the winged lion shaped hedge they had had breakfast under was nothing more than an overgrown bonfire now. Marcille’s jaw nearly hit the floor and her ears flapped on their own like they were trying to cooldown her overheating brain.

She and Laios stared at the burning bush in equal amounts of disbelief, before the clanking of the guardsmen’s armour snapped Marcille out of it.

“Laios, no more magic unless I’m present, alright? We’ll go with me putting too much power on lighting a fire for this one.” She knew he was about to refuse. “I’m your teacher so I’m the one responsible for you during our lessons, got it?”

“Alright. I just want to know though, what just happened? It didn’t feel like anything I did in the dungeon.”

“That’s something I’m hoping Yaad can shine a light on…” she could see the guards approaching from the corner of her eye and so she made a run for it in the most suspicious way possible. “I’m so sorry Laiosssssss!!!” She flailed her arms and ran as fast as she could back to the castle. She could hear Laios play his part in the trickery as she left.

-*-

“Well little princeling, I'm glad to inform you that you're just as fit as everyone else!” Marcille proclaimed with a smile at the, very much no longer little former prince.

“You can drop the formalities, I'm just a nobody now.” Yaad said with not a hint of regret. “And as hard as it may be for you to believe, I am probably your mother's senior.”

“You know what they said about first impressions. They stick.” Marcille let herself fall onto an empty bed, eyes heavy and arms barely able to clasp her staff anymore. “I'm so beat...”

“You didn't have to examine all of us. I'm sure a handful were enough to be fairly certain.”

“It was the least I could do after avoiding you all this time.” looking away from Yaad, she still couldn't tune out the droning noise of wood rocking. “Falin didn't and has a much better reason for it.”

“Don't beat yourself over it. You already did enough for us already.”

“Laios did. If anything, I made it worse.”

“What did I say about beating yourself up? And I'm sure that you won't believe those words if you think back for five seconds.” Marcille hated how quickly the tables and turned. Suddenly she was the child in this relationship.

“I guess.” she crawled back to a sitting position, taking a deep breath and looking at the corner of the room she had been avoiding all this time. “I suppose I should give him a check-up too.” she forced herself to say between grit teeth. The target of her anger was so small, so much paler than when he had killed her, his dark skin approaching her own complexion at this point. It was like looking at a corpse left to rot in that rocking chair by the window.

“We keep him fed by forcing it down his throat,” Yaad seemed to have something to say about how Marcille talked about her final patient, but thankfully for Marcille he kept it to himself. She knew she was just taking out her frustrations on someone who was every bit the victim she claimed to be. “I don't know if there's anything left...”

“You said he woke up, back at the feast, right?” Marcille carefully pulled his eye open and weaved a candle just ahead, and the eye did track it. Yaad nodded and she sighed. “His mana levels are non-existent for elf standards. Regardless of he walks again, I find it hard to believe he'll still be able to cast magic. But he's conscious. If what Kabru said about Mithrun's correct, then we just need to figure out what's keeping him tethered to life.”

“You mean, he's not... empty?” Yaad seemed so hopeful that it made her second guess herself. She would hate to shatter that with a bad read.

“If he were, I don't think he could have woken up back there. He'd just be a vegetable.” she snapped her fingers in front his faded purple eyes before uttering: “Dergal.” his eyes twitched ever so slightly. “Good. There's something there.”

“If only Grampa was here. He’d know what he’d keep so close to his heart…” Yaad said in-between melancholy sighs. Marcille hoped that her complete inability to help didn’t, in part, come from her own feelings on if this… person was even worth saving.

Pulling away from the comatose elf, she faced Yaad again, embarrassed for what came next.

“Yaad, I know this is rich coming from someone who avoided you for weeks but, I could use some help.”

“Anything these old bones can handle,” his smile broke through Marcille's reticence.

“Okay, since Thistle is, well, out of commission, you're the only person I can ask this of. Do you have any idea where his study is located?” she took a step back and gestured wildly. “I assure you I'm not-”

“Sure, do you have anything I can write on?”

“Just like that?” even after all the torture, he'd just... trust someone like her with the place where knowledge that imprisoned them may be located? She couldn't understand.

“I understand that you are apprehensive about your current situation. But the fact that you are second guessing yourself already shows a lot more awareness than what Thistle had.” The elder tall-man walked up to her and gently placed his grandfather’s hand on her shoulder. “As long as you keep the past in your mind, you'll be fine. I think I could speak for both of us that it would be our honour to be the stepping stones for your successes.”

”Save those speeches for Laios. He’s the one that needs help.” Marcille managed to say after being left speechless for a minute. She just got a very doubtful look from the former Royal.

“Isn’t that your job, miss court mage?” He asked her, surprise melting into anger on the candidate.

“What happened to keeping his mouth shut? I didn’t accept yet!” Marcille screeched, having to be held back from darting of the room to hunt that blabbermouth.

“Woah there. It wasn’t Laios for once. Falin asked me for advice on how to let her brother down easy when he came to her after asking you.” He explained, only managing to transfer the target of her annoyance momentarily.

I mean, what was Laios thinking, asking Falin? Didn’t he know what she wanted to be in life was… was… had she ever told her?

She stopped pushing against Yaad at the realization. Now that she thought about it, she never looked too interested at the Academy either… Marcille shook her head, this was just a topic she’d have to broach with the woman in question.

“But… seems like… she didn’t need to worry.” Yaad added in between breaths. When Marcille didn’t understand, he repeated: “Yet.”

“That was just a slip of the tongue!” She exclaimed, the frustration of being read like a book turning her red from ears to cheeks. “You know what, fine, here’s your gosh-darn paper, but if you want to be so helpful I’m going to abuse it!” The centuries-old tall-man only flashed a toothy grin as she piled a couple extra favours on him.

-*-

Marcille then started to make her way to the southwestern corner of the library, as per the note. Yaad had even pointed out that they had always kept maps of the library on a specific hollow book on the first shelf.

“How very Golden Kingdom-y,” between the dungeon, the labyrinth and now this, she was just sure this was part of their culture. She had to make sure Yaad didn't pass that bug to the current leadership.

Now with map in hand, she finally could orient herself in this dusty maze of knowledge. The library was directly under the castle, so it did not lack for space to expand. As a result, it was comprised of floors upon floors of shelves, lonely tables and ladders. She even spotted a small note on the back of the map when opening it.

“Reminder: Burn this when the centennial reorganization occurs. Couldn't have at least done that before all this went down?” A problem for another time, she had arrived.

According to the map and her experience every floor had a room like this. A semi-circular study room with a few tables at its centre. Its walls lined up with what should be that floor's most pertinent books. To climb these built-in selves, there was a set of four rotating ladders... ones that Marcille would have to climb.

She whined and winged, screaming out insults into the lonely halls, her way to get psyched up. When she was done, it was time.

Aligning the ladders to climb would, in better times, be a cinch, just a chants her and there and then she just had to climb them all in a row. She would rather keep that risk to a minimum though, so she went through the laborious task of climb one, rotating through the walls manually to where the next one had been left, rinse and repeat.

By the time she reached the top shelf, she considered just jumping down when she was done.

“Please, please, please, please, let me have the correct floor...”

Thankfully, this was indeed the floor with a book adorned with precisely three thistle flowers on its spine. The half-elf nearly jumped for joy, narrowly avoiding oblivion.

After a terrible climb down, she just collapsed on one of the tables, the book tumbling ahead of her. She took a moment to grasp for breath before crawling to the object and flipping it open.

Just like Yaad had said, this looked like a simple accounting book for the first one hundred pages, but, just a few pages before the centre, there as a page made completely out of reflective glass. Marcille then took a small purple handkerchief given to her by the last king and hovered it over the mirror with her left hand while reaching inside with her right. The intended way to circumvent this was Thistle's eyes but this was a close enough match for a failsafe.

Inside the book were two objects, and, not knowing which was the key she was after, Marcille just took both.

Examining her prize, she smirked at the sight of the golden key. “This is rather rudimentary for the protection of your lair Thistle. Were you just that overconfident?” the kinds of puzzles she had heard in rumour on the Academy dwarfed this one. Though who knows how many, if any, were true, or just rumours to stroke the egos of the wizards there. There was something else though. A locket. If Marcille was an animal, she'd probably be a cat, as she was too curious for her own book. She opened it.

There, emblazoned on one side was a moving picture of Dergal's son's birth, and on the other side, Yaad's birth, the same bard, with the same appearance and smile, playing at both. A stark reminder that the Lunatic Magician himself was, indeed, a person.

“Stop making me feel bad for you...” Marcille growled, but she knew she had just lost. She now was tethering dangerously close to wanting to save that dumb, short, loonie.

-*-

She quickly grabbed the remaining two books she had asked Yaad about while enroute for Thistle's lair's entrance at the seventh, and final, level of the library.

“Northmost shelf...” she had gotten soft surprisingly quickly, her feet were no longer used to this kind of punishment. Still, here it was. A book with two thistle flowers on the rim. At least this one wasn't four stories up. Probably because... “Take it out and then...” behind it was a single thistle flower inscribed on the wall. As Marcille slid the key closer, the illusion magic dissolved to reveal a keyhole “Use the key and take a step back after you pull it out.”

With a satisfying click, the gears behind the bookshelf started a turning and the shelf slid into the ground below, revealing a staircase behind it. Marcille did a small fist pump and skipped in. At first, her steps seemed to echo, but once the bookshelf rose behind her, they strangely stopped.

No matter, she was finally here and...

“I should have known Dergal would have spoiled that guy.” Marcille groaned, irritated at the sight ahead of her. This wasn't a lair, this wasn’t a study either, this was a friggen underground mansion! Complete with an entrance hall, at least four divisions and an extra pair of stairs leading further down? Searching this for notes would take days, weeks maybe, wouldn't it? “Well, I sure am not getting younger... hopefully.” half-elf genetics, could never know if she wouldn't start aging backwards.

She blindly picked a room and entered it. The kitchen. Nothing to see here.

Her stomach disagreed. Even as she turned away, it voiced its discontent. She had used quite a bit of magic to check up on the citizens, and it was... probably lunch time, right?

Yet again defeated by her stomach, she made her way back in.

The kitchen was expertly furnished and, just like the rest the country, had not aged any more than the weeks that had passed since it came back up to the surface. This did mean it was a bit dusty, but before she knew it, she had found enough wood to start a fire and a pair of skewers. It was time to get some practice in.

She smelled the meat, and it was already seasoned, good, she should start simple after her previous disasters. She thought of starting the fire with her magic, but it wasn't her situation that stopped her, but Senshi's words to not over depend on that shortcut. She would not be the first person to lose her magic on a freak accident.

Took a few minutes of grinding stones together to spark a fire, but she smiled as it roared to life. Next, it was just a matter of spinning the skewers over it. With nothing else to worry about, she just had to stare and make sure the meat was cooked properly. At first, she was too hasty, it looked done on the outside, but one cut revealed the bloody mess inside. While she checked on that skewer though, the second overcooked one side. Still, after an extra minute, the first one looked... decent enough, and the second skewer was definitely edible.

It wasn't pretty, but taking a bite from either of them made her surroundings melt away and she was transported back to the family picnics they did in the warmer seasons.

“Maybe there is something to the food you make with your hands after all...” she mummed, staring at the objectively below average dish she had made. “Alright, that settles it, I'm learning more about this cooking thing!”

Before, she had just been doing it out of a sense of obligation. A means to repay a debt. Maybe that's why she was so bad at it. Now, who knows, maybe this would be one of those things to plug the holes left behind.

-*-

Reenergised, she dove back into her previous objective. Cataloguing this lair. Thankfully a lot of it was simply living space, she probably would have to comb through it later for hidden passages or chests, but for now she was okay with leaving the bedroom be just that.

Particularly of note was the downstairs area. It was another of those pocket dungeons. Thankfully minus the giant killer cow. Marcille decided not to linger on it until she ruled out the dungeon being the reason for her current affliction. Eventually though, on the literal last room she entered, she found what she was looking for. The library.

And boy, was Thistle not cooperating.

“Did that Lion eat his desire for a well sorted library or something?!” Marcille yelled at the atrocity in front of her. Half-full shelves whereas others were overflowing with books stacked atop each other, upside down books, books with their ridge facing inward instead of outward, books stacked on the floor, pair of tables nearly buckling under the weight of all the crap layered on-top, all of it, of course, with no rhyme or reason for placement. Begrudgingly, she accepted that she probably needed some help if she didn’t want to waste weeks sorting through it all for relevant information.

With that in mind, her eyes found themselves observing the two books she had asked Yaad about. The “Almanac for the Undying Kingdom” and “Melini, the Greatest Success in the Mortal Realm”. “Boy, that cat really knew how to feed their ego, huh?” She commented before diving in.

-*-

“That should be enough…” having finished marking the possible locations for the orc village in a map, she closed the Almanac. She had to adjust the changing of seasons a bit but, for all their posturing, the writers could back up their ego with their works. Next time Laios was called to meet with the masons she was pretty sure she’d be able to help him out. Especially if she managed to actually get him to read this second book.

“I… really should accept that offer, huh?” She asked herself, parsing just how much of her days now were already spent helping Falin’s brother keep this kingdom afloat. She has always idolized her mother, so getting her position was probably something she wanted before, plus, even if she couldn’t find it in her to want the position itself, there was a distinct warmth that came from imagining herself in the position to help the Touden line for a living.

Her stomach snapped her out of her reverie. Again. Was she... also requiring extra food intake? She pushed that thought to the side. She probably just lost track of time.

“Oh gods, did I ghost Senshi?!” The thought of the dwarf arriving to a lonely Falin waving awkwardly filled her with shame. She left the books behind and rushed back through the lair.

Opening the bookshelf back up, she kept running. She felt her leg touch something, then, it snapped.

The air whistled, followed by a squelch. An arrow had lodged itself on her throat.

A trap? Yaad said the entrance was safe. No… she saw another shadow merging into hers. She summoned all her power and summoned a chant-less squall in-between herself and whatever was approaching. Normally, a mage that had just been forcefully silenced like this would only be able to call forth a small breeze, but, in her condition, a small breeze was more akin to a hurricane.

The resulting windblast was enough to catch both by surprise as it came with the power to launch both its caster and the unknown attacker flying into opposite ends of the library floor. Marcille tumbled through the hard granite floor before coming to a stop when she crashed into another bookshelf. Struggling to a sitting position and unable to grasp for any air, she checked her neck.

The tips of the arrow had broken off in the blast, but thankfully there was still enough of it left to grab. Bracing herself for the pain, she ripped it out and immediately funnelled as much healing magic as she could muster into the wound even as she cried out in pain.

In seconds, she could breathe again. Maybe her condition wasn't such a bad one after all.

Her relief was short lived. A shadow loomed over her again. As she looked up, the figure was as featureless as it's shadow. Just a humanoid wraith, clad in a flowing darkness that danced around him as if reflecting the night sky.

Just like the previous day, Marcille strangely felt no fear, yet no will to defend herself as a blade appeared from the darkness and was raised over her head. If this was the kind of fate that she kept bringing upon herself, maybe this was best for everyone. Those two would be safe and she would not outlive them. She closed her eyes and let judgement come for her.

The sound of steel clanging on the floor was quickly followed by bone snapping under immense pressure, and finally, a sick thud as a body hit the ground. Marcille opened her eyes again, another, smaller figure stood over her and the lifeless body of elf.

“I leave you alone for a month and this happens. You people are helpless.” the figure pulled back her hood to reveal a pair of black cat ears and a cheshire smirk.

“Tsumi!” Marcille cried out, finding the strength in her again to jump back to her feet and hug her saviour. The beast-woman at first tried to squirm away, but then let Marcille have her way with her once she started scratching behind her cat ears, her cat tail betraying her aloof expression.

“Alright, break it off, who knows if we're still alone down here.” Izutsumi managed to say after a while, pushing the half-elf away.

“R-Right. What just happened. Who was that person?” she looked down at her would-be assassin for a moment, trembling at the state of their neck and their glossed over eyes.

Her former party member produced a scroll from her back and unsealed it, replying: “Professional Assassins. After the world's most wanted.”

Marcille's whole world came crashing down as she stared at the figure smiling back at her in the scroll. Faded green chasing her from her dreams to reality. A lifelike portrayal of the dark mage that had once ruled over the dungeon. And below it, in blood red letters:

Wanted:

Dead or Alive.

The Black Witch of the Golden Kingdom.

Chapter 5: A Bloody Banquet

Chapter Text

-*-

Leaning against the cold wood of the bookshelf that separated Thistle's lair from the rest of the library, all kinds of dreary thoughts swirled around Marcille's mind as her eyes remained transfixed on the semi-crumpled paper on her hands.

“Witch...” the worst insult a female magic user could be branded with. It was a way to call for your expulsion from the wider community and to defame you as a danger to society. Even the most foulmouthed and flighty would not dare use such a word lightly, as it was grounds for a defamation court case if used incorrectly, an execution if correct. And here it was, written as warning for the entire world of what she had done. Of what she was. The worst of it is, she could not deny it. She could not even bring herself to fight it.

She only wished her mother never came across one of these.

Tears ran down the mage's face as she crumpled the paper yet again and threw it down the passage. It rolled down the stairs and into a body. The assassin Izutsumi had killed. A person that had died because of her. Maybe one with evil intentions, she could only guess, but it could very much be someone who just wanted to rid the world of a monster such as her. Their soul was long gone, not even as she was now could she attempt to bring them back. It would just haunt her in its own way now, and maybe forever.

“What was I thinking? Just... leaving everything I've done behind and hope the world forgets about me?” she hid her head behind her knees, feeling the gaze of the body even now. “Becoming a court wizard? What a joke. I should be happy being allowed to even walk free in this town. And even then... what if one of them were here with me?” she dared not think further. She was deemed a danger to the world. She was a danger to the ones she loved. She should just...

Knock, knock, knock.

“You in there?! Counting to three before I break this thing down!” the raspy voice of her saviour snarled, her knocking finally becoming frantic and heavy enough to snap her out of her spiral.

“W-wait! I don't know how to fix this!” she scrambled for the key and barely managed to open it just a Izutsumi had finished counting to two. She breathed a sigh of relief as the gears pulled the hidden gate open and brought into view the scowling beast-woman.

“And here I thought those ears weren't just for show,” the large cat sneered, reaching down beneath her waist to grab another dark cloaked figure. “False alarm though, these two were the only ones here.” she said as she nonchalantly threw another on top of the previous one.

“What do you mean another...” Marcille's stared at the two lives that had been snuffed out for her one.

“Got'em midway through jumping to save your ass. Got careless though, she was still squirming when I got back to her though.” she groaned, raising a charred left hand to her face to lick it. Marcille acted on instinct and healed it with just a touch. Izutsumi raised an eyebrow at the speed but shrugged. “Was the caster keeping the illusion up.”

“You seem to know a whole lot about what's going on... what happened at Shuro's estate?” Marcille asked, even if she didn't want to consider what the implications of such a question could lead to.

“Well, I got that dumb curse fully ripped out of me. The hag one, clearly, I'm still stuck like this,” Izutsumi tried to spin it negatively, as usual, but Marcille was still happy she wasn't, essentially, a slave anymore. “Then, while those idiots fought each other on if they should let me go or not, as if they had a choice, I went into the underbelly to settle any debts from my time as Asebi. To clean my slate before moving back here. I was there when your bounty was first posted to the board, ran back to the castle as fast as these paws could take me. I'm glad I didn't stop to rest last night.”

Now, there was something Marcille could count on one hand the times she had ever bore witness to. A small, but unmistakeable smile adorned the rough features of the former retainer. They hadn't known each other for that long, but adversity forges bonds stronger than steel as they say. It was enough to at least push back Marcille's funk.

“I see. Thank you, I mean it Tsumi. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you.” she replied, returning a much bigger smile back to the now flustered girl.

“You can start paying it back with portions from your dinners.” Tsumi mumbled. “By the way, what happened back then? You didn’t even try to get out of that guy’s way.”

“I… think my desire for self-preservation may have been eaten by the lion. This is the second time in a couple days where something like this happened,” it was still a working theory, but it would explain why she was so willing to take on the world back then.

“That moronic lard… I’ll keep that in mind.” Marcille’s guardian Angel assured while the wizard stepped out of the lair and let the shelf close after her. “Just going to keep them there?”

“I don't want to raise the alarm on the entire capital. I'll have to find a way to dispose of them without anyone noticing.”

“You don't want to... are you still insane? Your head nearly ended up on a spike!”

“Yes Izutsumi. My head. This is my problem.” amber and emerald eyes clashed as Marcille's former party member grabbed her robe's collar.

“This again? Last time you tried to work on your problems by yourself you nearly got the entire world on that lion's platter!” even as she was yelling this, Izutsumi clearly realized she had gone too far. Marcille could see her slit cat eyes dilate again, even if her expression remained furious. “As long as we share a roof, this is everyone's problem.”

“I know. That's why...” she pushed back her tears and swallowed. “I should leave.” Izutsumi let her go and both her arms tensed. Marcille braced for an impact that never came. Instead, as Izutsumi's hands slowly grabbed her shoulders, a cold, blank look washed over the former Asebi's face as she began to, slowly, methodically, explain.

“If you disappear, they will come after the people closest to you. Friends. Family. With this much money on the line, it doesn't matter how high up the ladder they may be. Maybe even unproven royalty.” Unspeakable images returned to haunt Marcille's paranoia as she tried to retreat, being cornered against a wall by the much shorter girl. “If you are lucky, they will just be held hostage until you walk straight into their hands. Wouldn't be the first time they would try to force information out of someone who doesn't know, and it ended badly...”

“Stop it! I get it!” the proclaimed witch screeched, her voice echoing through the empty hall. Izutsumi stood down, her fur and eyes returning to their normal selves, but she didn't speak, just boring her gaze on the person she had saved. “There has to be a way out of this though. Can't we just pay the bounty?”

“Even if we ignore the fact that I can't even read the kind of number on this paper, the fact that they separated your living reward to be worth five times as much implies that this is personal. So... they'd just post it again.” Izutsumi explained, and Marcille had to admit that she was right. Ten million gold coins could buy the entire Island, even when it had the all-important dungeon on it. This is the kind of money that you'd only hear about when budgeting an entire kingdom's expenses... and their own had been stripped clean of treasure over the centuries too. “Only one way about this weed. We pull it out by the root.”

“Wait, you don't mean...” the practiced ease with which the former retainer explained this just raised more and more doubts as to what she was made to do from such a young age. She was not even eighteen yet.

“Kill or be killed Marcille.” Izutsumi stated matter-of-factly. “Don't feel sorry for the bastard. You're worth way more than someone who puts a price on someone else's head.” Marcille had her doubts about that, but the barely noticeable softness that had come with the second sentence did sway her thoughts somewhat.

“Whomever this is, to have this much money, must be a big deal. And we have no hints. How are we even-”

“Shush. My job. Your job's to stay alive while I catch this mouse's trail.” Izutsumi's aloof yet proud aura was back. She was truly in her element again. Marcille wasn't sure if to feel relieved or horrified. “Don't worry, I'll save you the prey.” she added with a wink.

“I... thank you, I guess?” Marcille wanted to refuse it, but then she considered the fact that she may be able to get through to whomever was doing this, or at the very least know why they were doing this.

“Alright. Let's go tell the dunderhead king then...” Marcille’s heart skipped a beat. She reached for Izutsumi and held her wrist tightly.

“Tsumi. About what I said...”

“Oh, for the love of... what is it now?”

“Laios is barely holding on as it is. The position is way too much on him. And Falin's hiding something that is clearly disturbing her. There's also the reason I was here. I can't just... drop this on them now.” She kept breaking eye contact as she explained, especially when Izutsumi’s annoyance began turning into actual anger.

“You really, really, should though.” Izutsumi replied, making no attempt at hiding her distaste of the situation.

“Just give me some time. Once they are more stable, we can discuss this.” She knew she was being unreasonable. Not just for her own sake, but even for the people around her. But... just the thought of telling the Toudens that they may be in danger, because of her, again, was enough to make her heart freeze. Maybe she could solve this behind their back. Izutsumi sighed, biting the side of her cheek in annoyance before breaking eye contact.

“This is a dumb, stupid, dangerous idea that can get more than one person killed. But... I've been there.” she told the ashamed wizard, slowly reconnecting their eyes. “I won't lie for you. If they ask me, they will know. If I smell even one more assassin, they will know. If you up and vanish, they will know. Until then, this will be our secret. BUT! If you want to keep their trust, I suggest you find the guts to tell them. Soon.”

“Thank you... and I'm sorry.” Marcille slowly moved in and tentatively tried to hug her friend, expecting nothing from it. She was relieved when Izutsumi let her, even if she did not reciprocate.

After a few moments, her feline companion broke the embrace and slapped both her cheeks.

“Alright, drop the frown, if you walk into that banquet like that there'll you'll be as hard to read as a picture book.” Tsumi then started smelling the clothes immediately after while Marcille was still processing what she said. “Oh, and you better change, these stink.”

“Hey! And what do you mean banquet?”

“Huh? The whole party's back in town, ya think they wouldn't throw a party?”

Oh yeah, right, she had absolutely lost track of time.

-*-

With Tsumi's help, the blood caked researcher managed to sneak her way back into her room, even past the King and his sister who were en route to the library to check on her.

Once in there she chucked all bloodied clothes to the deepest recesses of her travel bag and locked it shut, using a wet rag to clean the blood that still remained on her shoulders and neck. With that done, she breathed a sigh of relief and opened her drawers.

She... really needed to go shopping.

“I really should have asked who would be attending. But it's not like I have the money to buy a fancy court dress yet...” or would ever really if she didn't find a job, quick. “Well, I guess I'll have to continue looking like an, extremely cute, country bumpkin for now.”

And so, she went for her old reliable. A puffy sleeved blue vest with a white skirt and shoes, keeping her red ribbon and matching it with her usual choker. The simplicity of it all, plus her current toddler-level hairdo hadn't stopped bugging her, but those thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind as she realized it was fully nighttime already.

-*-

“What do you mean, other people, it's just us. I guess the quantity of food would qualify for a banquet though.” Falin casually replied, ignoring Marcille's dagger-throwing stare at the cat in the background. Not that Izutsumi would notice, she looked like she crashed the moment she saw on her chair, something that gave the half-elf second thoughts on judging her.

“Who is us anyway?” Marcille asked, looking around the otherwise empty room. She could guess Senshi was cooking, maybe Laios as well? But there were nine chairs across the lone table in the hall.

“Did you leave your memory back in the island?” the permanently done voice of Marcille's favourite half-foot rang from behind her. She spun around and let herself fall to her knees to give Chilchuck a great big hug. “H-Hey, watch your dress! You all better be on your best behaviour!”

Then her mind connected two and two together.

“Oh gosh, you really brought them with you?!” Marcille squealed, immediately getting back to her feet and dusting off her dress. Giving Chilchuck a second look, it was novel to see him out of his adventurer rags. He usually kept those around even outside of work. With his embroidered red overcoat and practically pristine leather vest and pants, he looked quite a bit more dashing, even if his features only ever did his age a disservice. She thought he was adorable, really, much to his dismay, she was sure.

“Yeah... Fler and Patti are taking ages to dress up though. I'd be worried about them actually catching their target's eye if that target wasn't Laios of all people...” he mumbled, knowing what came next. Marcille breaking down into tears of laughter.

“I-I thought you were worried for Senshi!” she squeaked by after a good while.

“Yeah, well, Laios owns a kingdom. Nothing attracts suitors more. Thankfully he’s….” Chilchuck trailed off, his eyes shooting up in recognition before suddenly grabbing Marcille’s wrist. “I’m not going to introduce you to my kids with that kind of bed head. Come on, let’s fix that!”

She tried to protest, but there was a surprising amount of determination in that small body, and Falin sure didn’t help her stay.

-*-

“So, Marcille…” Chilchuck began, closing the door to the bathroom behind them, despite Marcille’s protests. “You have anything to tell me?” His eyes had lost all their levity.

“Chilchuck? What’s…” before she could say anything else, he pulled her ponytail over her shoulder. Then she realized. Blood. On the strands just behind her neck. She hadn’t washed it at all. Damn that demon!

“Half-foots have a better vantage point for things like this.” He stated, giving a slight relief to Marcille. At least it seemed to be just him to notice. “Now, let’s do this again. Do you have anything to tell me?”

Marcille could only stare, a million excuses being born and dying before they reached her mouth. She couldn’t lie, not to someone whom she had shared so much with. But… she wouldn’t blame him if she saw her as more trouble than she was worth given her most recent interactions with the party. Maybe though, she owed him that much. She forced her lips open…

“Right, got it.” Chilchuck interrupted with a sigh. “Just turn around and take a seat.”

As confusing of a request as that was, it sure beat her previous situation, so of course she acquiesced. She felt even more confused when a towel was put around her shoulders. At least until she felt a wet rag trailing down her ponytail.

“I know that you’re too dense to deduce this, so let me spell it out.” He said as he changed to a dry towel. “I’m not prodding because I trust you. If you ever need my help, I’d like to think you’ll just ask.”

“That… certainly was not how I was going to read this.” Marcille said with a weak giggle. “Thanks though. I just need time to figure some things out.”

“Boy you sure are a lot like my kids. Are you sure you’re nearly twice my age?” He snarked with a quick pinch on her cheek, narrowly dodging a backhand in response. “Let’s fix you up so that you leave a good impression.” he added as he began to use Marcille's own lessons to style her hair for her.

“You know, I taught you this to use on your daughters, not for them.” Marcille snarked back, glad that she was facing away from him because this situation made her unreasonably embarrassed. She'd probably have run away if this wasn't a married man.

“Turns out, by now they'd rather jump off a bridge than let their dad mess with their hair! Can you believe it?!” he seemed genuinely distraught, Marcille couldn't help but laugh, a genuine one this time. “But they do remind me a lot of us. Always acting like everything's fine. They never brought up their mom until I forced it out of them.”

“Chilchuck...”

“I'm just saying. Between you and the royal family, that's three people that are too busy putting on a, very unconvincing, mask to notice that the other two are as well. Take it from me, it's best to talk these things over before it's too late.” he finished, both with his speech and fixing up Marcille's hair. She wanted to ask what that meant for him and his wife, but she owed him some silence after what happened earlier. “Alright, what do you say?” he raised a mirror to Marcille, and she was floored. It was as if she had returned to the days before the Winged Lion. It wasn't quite as complex, but there were no split ends, there were layers to the hairstyle, and he had managed to make the ponytail nice and poofy. “All that handywork transferred more than a bit, didn't it?”

“Chil... you could be a hairdresser with these kinds of skills.” she was being serious, though, Chilchuck really could be anything that involved hands on work, she hated to admit but she had never seen him fail outside of the times his ego got the best of him.

“And deal with girls my kid's age every day? Just shoot me already.” he replied, removing the towels from her shoulder. “Now, remember, on your best behaviour. Tonight's supposed to them meeting the saviours of the world!”

“Don't worry Chilchuck, I'll look my best!”

-*-

“Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh you are all so cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute!” Marcille screeched as the three girls walked into the dining hall, a knowing but disappointed look on the father's face. That hadn't lasted long at all.

The first that caught her eye was the one that looked just like a very tired Chilchuck with some pigtails. They even were matching outfits. Her hair was just slightly dishevelled though, so her more carefree nature shone through. By her side, dressed the fanciest by far, was a raven-haired half-foot, the only one to not share her father's coloration. She wore a really pretty pink dress with a giant bow on her back and an orange flower pin on her hair. Marcille wondered if she could get some fashion tips from her. Finally, the smallest of the trio was a sweet looking girl in a patterned yellow shirt and long orange skirt, distinctly carrying a bundle of flowers matching her hair colour and her sister's pin. How attentive!

“Everyone, this is Meijack, she’s the locksmith I told you about.” Their father began, pointing at the one most similar to him first.

“Sup- I mean, salutations.” The Chilchuck’s doppelgänger said, correcting herself when the smallest of the three kicked her in shins.

“This is Flertom. She’s… in-between jobs. She’s the smart one.” Next came the only raven haired one. She shot a death glare at her dad momentarily, but then moved straight past the open armed half-elf and gave a long, elegant bow to the king instead.

“I am eternally grateful for your generosity, Your Majesty.” She fluttered her eyes and puckered her lips towards him, it took all of Marcille’s inner strength to not burst into a cacophony at the sight.

“Don’t mention it! And just Laios is fine!” A very confused looking Laios said, raising a hand for a handshake. Clearly, that was misinterpreted as Flertom planted a kiss on the back of his hand, nearly killing her father right there and then. Laios’ blank look as he tried to process what had just happened caused her to grumble and move back to her father’s side.

“We’ll talk about this later young woman.” Threatened Chilchuck before turning to present his last daughter. “This is Puckpatti. She’s a seller of exotic wares. Say hello Patti!” Except there was no one there anymore.

“These flowers only grow on my hometown. Hope they teach you something about us!” Puckpatti had already handed the orange blossoms to the king, who was more enthusiastic in taking this gift.

“They really are beautiful!” He exclaimed, his love for biology extending to all living beings.

“Remind you of someone?” She playfully teased, a leading question no one could miss.

“Hey Falin, these are just as graceful as you!” Laios exclaimed towards the table, a look of painful empathy rising to his sister’s face while she politely nodded. Her plan foiled, the last of the girls retreated, for now.

Having seen enough and realizing Flertom was already starting to size up Senshi, Chilchuck hurried everyone's introductions and lead them to the table. Marcille would be angry at him if she didn't feel so utterly ignored by two thirds of his children already.

When moving to the table the first thing that Marcille noticed was that the seats were named with a small scrap of paper in front of their plates. How strange. Wait, is this Chill's handwriting? and sure enough, once she saw how things were lining up, it all made sense. His girls on one side of the table, Laios and Senshi on the opposite side, her, Falin, Izutsumi and Chilchuck creating as much space as possible between them. She gave him an amused glance as he sat across her and the siblings sat on each side of her. The table wasn't nearly big enough to make this matter at all, but he was one to take every advantage he could.

“The food doesn’t look nearly as intimidating as Dad’s stories.” Marcille heard Puckpatti say to her sisters.

“He was just trying to make Senshi look lesser.” Flertom replied, glaring at her dad, who was clearly regretting ever accepting the suggestion to bring them along.

She was the first to reach into the black porridge and try it out. As anyone who knew Senshi knew to expect, she:

“And tastes amazing too! Dad, you were holding out on us!”

“Or maybe cooking in a godsdamned castle instead of in a pit with death lurking around every corner makes things come out just a bit better.” Meijack butted in, Chilchuck’s standoffishness seemingly being an inheritable trait.

“Now, I wouldn’t call the dungeon a pit. It was a wonderful ecosystem.” Senshi replied, still cutting through a large slab of meat that he was seething everyone. “But the extra time and tools does let me get more creative.” You could not see his smile through that sea of beard, but you could feel it in its earnestness. Much to Chilchuck’s horror, all of his daughters except Meijack started having skin matching his hair colour.

“Speaking of the dungeon!! Is there anything you want to hear about it in particular?” Their father quickly interjected.

“Hm… since we’re on the subject. What about what your favourite monsters to eat were? Knowing which are edible could be useful.” Meijack asked, getting two looks of concern from her sisters.

“I’ll go first since I have the least experience. Eating living armour was really fascinating! When Laios told me they had tried it I couldn’t believe it, and it tastes really good too!” Leave it to Falin to immediately paint the topic in a positive light. She was positively glowing both when she said it and when answering the questions of how it was even edible. It even gave her the will to add her own two cents on it.

“I'd have to ask if they had any monster ingredients on it, but there was a pasta dish that was just divine!” she exclaimed, leaving out as many details as she could. “Depending on how you view things, it may have helped save the world!”

“Wow, they really are heroes...”Puckpatti gasped, the returning awe that had been in the girl’s eyes when they first saw the party tingled the mage’s ego… just a bit.

“For the last time, that wasn't pasta! That was noodles! You got tricked!” Izutsumi screeched, her protests yet again going unheard.

“Yeah, I don't think that counts Marcille, when we were thinking of what to cook, we only found regular ingredients,” Laios replied, and Marcille expected to feel relief, but she was a bit... disappointed it was just that?

Oh no, it may be too late for me too at this rate!

“They may have looked like normal ingredients, but they were definitely influenced by the dungeon. We just had not eaten them yet.” Senshi interjected. Marcille's brain cried out, but her heart was expecting. “The pork was a lot lighter on the fat than usual. I suspect it came from the flying pigs that we fought soon after.”

Noooo! I made my own monster food!

“Oh, wow. That’s great! Anything else that you figured out?” Laios' notebook truly was the one constant around that guy, he was already noting it down.

“Yes, the eggs we used for the pasta! They were definitely Chimera eggs. I figured it out during that last banquet!” Senshi exclaimed proudly, and, just like that, both Marcille's brain and heart were agreeing again. She stared a thousand-yard stare in Falin's direction, who seemed more jealous than insulted or appalled.

“I... I am just as bad as Laios...” the defeated dungeon lord let her face fall onto the table. At least this conversation can't get any worse.

“Speaking of eating Falin, I was a big fan of your “Falignton Stew” Marcille! That was my highlight of the entire feast!” Laios exclaimed with all the vigor and positivity in the world, practically sparkling with excitement.

Kill. Death. Execute. Destroy. Punish. He must be purged! she tried to reach for Ambrosia, but she had foolishly left it back at her room. Never again would she make such a mistake. The fact that he had chosen her dish only drove the metaphorical dagger deeper.

“Eating... Falin...?” Flertom gagged, staring wide eyed at both Marcille and Laios and then back at Falin.

Of all the things for Chilchuck to leave out!

“It's a long story, but it was necessary to save her. I'll explain it to you once we have the time!” Chilchuck exclaimed, jumping to her rescue. He seemed oddly satisfied with the horrified look Patti and Fler were giving Laios though. “How about you Izutsumi?”

“Any of the hippogriff stuff.” Izutsumi said non-committedly. When prodded by questioning looks, she just added. “Birds taste good.” The refreshing simplicity was good for Marcille's still melting brain.

“I was also... quite the fan of that soup.” Senshi added with a forlorn, but satisfied tone. Fler swooned, Chilchuck trembled.

“What about you Pops?” Meijack asked, Chilchuck smiling back and rattling off a clearly pre-prepared answer.

“The Mimic. Sure, I hated the idea of even trying those bastards, but once I did, it tasted like victory!” the half-foot exclaimed, cackling as his victory over his nemesis flashed on his eyes.

“Man, dad's boring.” Puckpatti commented, Flertom nodding along vigorously. Chilchuck quickly joined Marcille in her despairing position.

“Well, even if this is just using regular ingredients, you're still blessed with an amazing chef, Your Majesty!” Flertom complimented, twirling her hair and giving the, extremely oblivious, tall-man bed an overly dramatic glance as Puckpatti seethed.

“Oh, no, not at all, all of the food here is using what Senshi brought from his hunt!” Laios exclaimed, to no one's surprise but the girls’. Flertom and Patti looked at their dish horrified, Meijack seemed far more interested in it now.

“What's this one made from then? It did taste a lot gamier than normal porridge.” the half-foot asked the chef.

“Succubus blood.”

All hell broke loose.

Meijack had to get both her sister’s fingers out of their throat before they vomited the full contents of the meal, Chilchuck had to be physically restrained by Laios before he choked Senshi out, while Marcille was just horrified that each of them may have just consumed enough anaesthetic to send a whole horse to the great beyond. Falin, of course, only picked up the pace and dug in as fast as she could before Marcille could intervene. Her plate was spotless by the time the half-elf looked.

Once the nerves had time to simmer, and given the fact that no one had collapsed into a heap, Marcille asked:

“I suppose you did something to the anaesthetic and the aphrodisiac?” Senshi nodded back, still wary of Chilchuck’s glare.

“It doesn’t survive high temperatures. It’s why we could drink the milk back then.” He explained, validating Marcille’s working theory. “Laios and I talked, and we just thought that it would be a nice gesture to give the girls a taste of our journey.”

“Oh, I just knew you were involved in this!” the girl’s dad groaned, Laios meekly smiling. “Just… just tell us what’s in it before we eat though. I trust you but this is new to the girls.”

“I dunno, I like the uncertainty of it all.” mused Meijack. She definitely had gotten that from her mother and not Chil. “You fought one of these before?”

“Right. We thought they were extinct on the Island but turns out they had just dug deeper nests! They may be monsters, but they aren’t that far removed from a humans’ intelligence.” Laios happily explained, triggering something in the raven-haired half-foot.

“Is that so… what did dad’s look like then?” Flertom asked, her father’s eyes bulging and blood draining from his face. Marcille’s instincts got the better of her.

“It was a gaggle of beautiful blonde half-foots. I asked him if any of them looked like your mother, but he wouldn’t answer! Would they?!” Marcille begged to know, her romantic heart craving more information on these star-crossed lovers. She did not expect the look of disgust on Flertom’s face, nor the soul leave Chilchuck’s body like that.

“Mom and I share our hair colour…” Flertom growled, staring down her father. Marcille mentally kicked herself.

“Are you having an affair Dad? How awful, you haven’t even admitted you want a divorce!” Patti’s eyes were welling up, Marcille only wanted to find a hole and crawl in it, probably help Chilchuck in with her. No, she had gotten him into this, she had to help him out.

“Actually, succubi don't necessarily use people you met in real life. They didn't for me!” she only got a tentative look from the younger two daughters, but it seemed to breathe some life back into their dad. “For example, I was shown my childhood book crush! The dreamy General Hareus from “The Daltian Clan” series!”

She didn't expect the table's reaction to be one of pure, unadulterated, pity.

“The poor girl must have been so sheltered...” Puckpatti seemed like she was about to cry.

“Hard to believe she’s over three times our elder...” Fler was just rolling her eyes.

“You really should get out there and meet people, no offense.” And worst of all was Meijack, who seemed painfully genuine.

They really are that guy's daughters alright!

“I'm even more annoyed that you fell for it now that I know that!” added Izutsumi. “You knew he literally didn't exist!”

“Pah, I wouldn't expect people that haven't read through it to understand. Come on Falin, back me up, you're over a third of the way through. Isn't Hareus amazing?!” Marcille was sure to find safe harbour on Falin. They were always in tune. That is exactly why the blank stare from the tall-man girl shook her to her core.

“Really? Them? They are so… undercooked. Their entire thing is the whole oh what gender are they, but they are an elf, that comes with their biology.” she rambled, every word rattling Marcille more and more. “I mean, everything they do is cool, but I dunno, that's a bit, superficial?” and just like that it was like she had knocked all the air from Marcille's lungs. The mage slumped back on her chair and joined Chilchuck in staring into the void.

Falin had just called her basic. Maybe the wanted poster wasn’t so bad after all.

“Mar! I'm sorry, I still have 15 books left. Surely, they get expanded on later, I'm just missing context!” Falin tried comforting but her words ended up just making it worse. Hareus did not, in fact, get more context. Marcille's maiden dreams had been trampled yet again by the person she trusted most. “S-Senshi, Laios, how were your encounters?”

“I'll just say that I learned something new about myself there...” Senshi said cryptically, a statement that was sure to make some of the girl's imagination run wild.

“See, your father probably didn't see someone he knew on the succubi. No one else in our group did, right Laios?” Falin asked, a void of sound answering back. “Laios?”

“Well, now that we're done with our first dish, I think it's time for me to go get the fish dish!” Laios hastily replied, trying to grab his and Chilchuck’s dish, but the half-foot sprung back to life and gripped his wrist tight.

“Your Majesty, it's rude to ignore a request on your own home.” he said between gritted teeth. There had been bad blood about this kind of thing during the party's formation, Marcille had heard, but she still couldn't bring herself to believe it. Laios, of all people?

“Hah, I w-wouldn't want to bother my guests with my fantasies!” he replied, trying to pull himself free, but this excuse had set even Senshi's fight or flight sense off.

“When have you ever hidden your fantasies?!” Chilchuck yelled, now using both hands to restrain him.

“The succubus must be more powerful than I thought to elicit such dark thoughts!” Senshi exclaimed, worrying that he had made his dish under false pretences. Even Falin was starting to look distressed, and Marcille couldn't help but have a bad feeling about this. I mean, he didn't sound embarrassed, he sounded afraid.

“It's not that serious! Come on, let's leave it be like we did last time!” Laios cried out, a losing battle ensuing between the half-foot, the dwarf, the former dragon, and the lone king.

“You said you didn't remember!” Chilchuck retorted, now using the table for leverage.

“I didn't, I just got the memories back when I ate the lion!” At this point Laios was splattered all the way across the table.

“Oh, how convenient. How about you share it with the class then? Surely it can't be worse than Marcille's desire to romance a bunch of ink and paper!”

“Hey that was uncalled for!” Marcille fired back, still unsure what side to take here. If only Chilchuck's daughters weren't here, she'd be clubbing him right this moment. Eventually, her curiosity got the better of her. “It can't be that bad Laios. Hiding it is only going to make it wor-”

“It was you Marcille!”

Oh no. It WAS that bad.

Everyone blankly stared at the king, who had stopped struggling, most demanding elaboration, just one particular person rummaging through her mind for a stunning spell that could knock him out without being detected.

“I was looking for the lion when I saw a smiling Marcille. She looked so gentle. I was taken aback and nearly tricked, but I realized she wasn't acting like herself, so I caught her before the succubus stung me. Then she turned into a Scylla and... I mean... how could I resist?!”

The blank stares at the king turned now to his mage companion, Chilchuck, Meijack and Senshi's revealing only pity, while Fler and Patti seemed legitimately scared.

“Wow, she was the closest thing to a monster he could think of.” Fler whispered to Patti, in any other situation her voice too low to carry, but in the dead silence of the room, it was like yelling.

“She must be so scary. Is she just putting on a facade?” Patti replied, both comments managing to snap Marcille out of her shock.

“I’m sorry?! The succubus literally had to change me to be scarier!” she yelled back, determined to not somehow be painted as the villain in this dinner.

“I knew it. First you bend over backwards for that redhead and now this. What did I tell you about work-life balance! Here I thought you had just seen something stupid like a monster!” Chilchuck was straight up kicking the king's shins at this point, but he seemed unresponsive.

“Actually, she turned all of you into monsters too... Minus Izutsumi, she's perfect as is anyway.” he answered back in defeat. It just kept getting worse! The only silver lining for Marcille was that, surely, this would take the heat off her somewhat.

“To have this kind of opinion of her come from the ones closest to her. I wonder how she must act towards everyone else…” Fler commented, finally breaking through her anger threshold.

“HOW IS THAT HOW YOU READ IT? HE’S ATTRACTED TO MONSTERS THAT TURN PEOPLE INTO MONSTERS AND I’M TAKING THE FLACK?! I AM RESPONSIBLE WITH MY MAGIC!” she yelled, stomping on the ground and twirling on the ground on her head. She should never have accepted that guy's invitation to live in the castle.

“Is she admitting she could do it if she wanted to?” Fler mumbled, Meijack quickly slapping her on the upside of the head, Gods bless her soul.

“How did someone sweet like Falin survive with this for a friend?” Patti said, rubbing Falin's hand for solace. Falin seemed rather cheery all things considered.

“I'm just glad Marcille and my brother are getting along now.” she said with a smile. Marcille really wanted to object and question how any of this was getting along, but she could already see Flertom started her gossiping again, and she couldn't take another round.

“Chilchuck… please…” she begged the girl's father, but he seemed as defeated as her. His hopes of looking like a member of a respectable adventuring group had died in the very same way Marcille's hopes of being an idol to his girls had.

“I’m staying the hell out of this. You wanted to meet them and here they are.”

Before the situation escalated any further, Senshi loudly coughed and pretended to check his hourglass.

“Hmph. Look at the time. The Kraken should be ready by now. Laios, will you- “

“On it!” The king blazed past the dwarf into the kitchen, the cook following suit. The remaining attendees gazed at each other in silence and swore a wordless oath to just… move on.

The octopus-adjacent dish was just what Marcille needed to start turning the dinner around. Beyond finally sharing one of her homeland’s specialties with the people closest to her, it was a great gateway to much more normal small talk.

Where they had lived, what lead each of them to the dungeon, recounting their favourite monster encounters, even more… exotic topics like why they had claimed to eat Falin. Turns out, now that all the awe had been long since removed from the half-foot girl’s eyes, they were surprisingly good company.

But nothing truly matched the feeling she got of sharing stories of her and Falin at the academy, laughing at Laios bumbling his way to the top of the military school he was in, listening to Falin’s stories of the beauty of her homeland and how cute her dogs were, Senshi’s discovery period of the dungeon and how he first met Anne, Izutsumi finding creative ways to not have to deal with the consequences of Maizuru’s antics for her, heck, once Chilchuck got a few drinks in he even recounted his first date with his wife, well more like rambling with praise for her while his daughters smiled.

This truly was where she belonged, and there and then, she decided she wouldn’t let what was probably spoiled nobles with a vendetta rip it away from her.

She called for a toast, to the future of the kingdom and all those that loved it and its people. And the banquet raged on.

-*-

It was deep into the night when they finally finished. Everyone would regret this in the morning, but right now the group just kicked back and enjoyed the reverie. Patti had taken to Falin’s company during the dinner and Izutsumi seemed uncharacteristically friendly with Meijack. It was only Flertom that kept trying to woo the ever-unaware Laios, and just had to sit through his monster trivia instead.

As Senshi began cleaning the table, Marcille volunteered to help. It was quite the odyssey due to the sheer number of dishes and leftovers, but she needed to catch Senshi alone.

Once everything was done, Marcille slurped down a little bit more of liquid courage and walked up to Senshi.

“Senshi. Teach me to cook. I mean it this time!” She poured as much of her determination as she could into her tone while giving him an extended bow. She had asked this of him as soon as she had the idea for Laios’ present, but he hadn’t even given her a second thought last time.

Senshi hummed, pushing Marcille’s by her chin until they he could see her eyes. They shared a long standoff before his eyes softened and his brows curled.

“Ah there be your fire again. Seems like you truly care about it now. We start tomorrow.” He reached up to her head and gently patted her. “Get some rest. I’ll do the cleaning. I heard you need to be told that now.” He gently added, refuting any attempt she made to try and offer help.

This was perfect for her, because her mind-state was just enough… some would say addled, she would say freed, at the moment, to take the last leap of the night. She made her way back into the dining hall and spotted Laios beginning to be hauled to his feet by his sister.

No more paranoia, you know what you want Marcie.

“Hey! Your Laiosness!” She exclaimed, catching the entire room’s attention. She theatrically gave him a thumbs up before pointing to herself. “You’ve officially got yourself a court magician!”

The entire party smiled and returned her gesture, but most of all the one whose request had so emphatically been granted. He sure tried to give her an Island-styled hug, but he collapsed the moment he left Falin's shoulder. She had her work cut out for her, but for now, that was alright with her.

The future was in the hands of the ones who took a hold of it. She would not be remembered a Witch. She would just be Marcille.

Chapter 6: Melinial Pizza

Chapter Text

-*-

“We'll be taking our leave then, your Majesty, Lady Marcille, Lord Yaad.” the chief mason lead with a bow as the room began dispersing. Marcille didn't hide the pride the title granted her, but as soon as the last mason left, she, alongside the king, collapsed onto their chair.

“Splendid display you two. Had I not known any better I'd think you two were raised to manage a kingdom.” Yaad commented, the elder somehow being the sprightliest person in the room.

“I couldn't have done it without Marcille here!” Laios replied, patting the book she had found down on Thistle's wizard lair. “I may not have been raised for it, but I could not have found a better court magician.”

“Don't sell yourself short. You had it memorized within the week.” Marcille smiled, unaware of the reddening on the rounded tip of her ears. “But yes, we do make quite the team.”

It had been a month ever since this team had formed. Between Marcille’s booksmarts, Yaad’s experience and Laios’ out-of-the-box thinking, they had managed to steer the ship since then. They were all too aware that they had only dealt with the tip of the iceberg, as none of the systems of the kingdom was fully running, nor had the other countries decided on how to deal with them yet, but it had been a satisfactory experience. Fun even at times. Other times there were things like the poop forest incident, which almost made Marcille reconsider her choice, but oh well, such had been her lot in life ever since she accepted Falin’s party request last year.

“If that child's even half as good at handling external relations as you say he'll be, and with a former aristocrat elf by his side, this kingdom has a bright future even after I turn to dust.” Yaad commented with a hearty laugh, even as the two “children” wondered how serious he was. Still, it was true. Once Kabru was back, things should start running smoothly. Doubly so if Mithrun had in fact decided to stay in the west.

Marcille did wonder how the tall-man control freak would react to Laios appointing her behind his back though.

“Speaking of Kabru. He asked me to think of a name for the kingdom and its capital before he returned. It's in good taste to let the people name their towns, but he insisted on me naming these two.” Laios picked the book back up and pointed out the title. “Melini's the name of the main village in the island and your surname, right Yaad?”

“It's as you deduced by now. The Golden Kingdom was what became of Melini. Foreigners did call it that before the fall too, and I guess that that was the more appealing name to draw in adventurers,” Yaad answered, smiling at the memory of bygone days.

“Would it be alright with the old residents if I kept it?”

“I mean, I'm certain they would be happy, but you really don't have to.” Yaad replied, Marcille quickly joining in the sentiment.

“He's right Laios, this is your country now, with a fresh slate. Aren't you worried the world will keep bringing up the past?” The way Marcille saw it, the outside at best they'd see this as pompous, at worst as an admission that they agreed with the policies of yore.

“I don't think that's a problem. The past happened. I wouldn't want to forget the worst parts of my life; this is no different. Memories are nourishment for the mind.” There it was again, one of those flashes of insight that fascinated the half-elf to no end. She wondered what kind of life a goofball like him must have had to make him have another side like this.

“That's a beautiful sentiment, but I'm not sure the rest of the world will believe it to be genuine.” the former dungeon lord commented. The king's eyes locked with hers, like he knew what she really meant.

“As long as we put in the effort, I'm sure people will see it is!” oh how she wished she could have even a smidgeon of that optimism. It was like staring at a labrador. How could she say no?

“Alright, but you're still the king. You should name it something that means something to you.” she wasn't being entirely selfless in that advice. The Kingdom would probably outlive most people in the room, it'd be nice to have it carry a bit of them for the ones that were left behind.

“But it does mean something to me. Things may have gotten out of hand, but without the Golden Kingdom's dungeon existing, I wouldn't have had a good reason to leave the army. And if I stayed there, I'd not have found nearly as many monsters,” he explained, his voice wavering at the rare mention of his time in the army, but brightening right back up after, especially when he added: “It's also what allowed us to meet Marcille!”

“I... Well, it's your choice anyway!” Her ears fluttered and sizzled, forcing her to turn around to manage to keep any degree of dignity. How could these siblings say things likethat in public so haphazardly?! Worse still, why was she doing the opposite of getting used to it? Every time it hit her harder and harder. Yaad must have sensed her despair, as he quickly jumped in.

“No objections here. How about the capital then?” Yaad nodded, somehow catching Laios by surprise. “Don't tell me you are one of those that name the capital the same as the country. Even we cursed our original founder for that.” Marcille nodded along, remembering how lame it was when her mother said the same thing about the country she served.

“Well... hm... how about The Den? Ya know, like a lion!” had his mother not taught him that when you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all?

“What kind of a name is that?!” Marcille shouted, smacking the table in front of him. “There's no way to spin that demon positively! You're just asking people to see us as a cult!”

“I don't know, okay! Yaad shot down my idea. You name it, Marcille!” Laios replied already midway through jumping over the table and making a beeline to the hallway.

“Don't you pile your paperwork on me, get back here!” she didn't like the knowing smirk on Yaad's face, but she was too angry to not chase down that idiot. Izutsumi, who was guarding the door, audibly groaned as Marcille blitzed past her and gave chase.

-*-

During the last month she had taken to being the one to deliver Thistle his breakfast. It was an efficient way to massage the basics of her cooking while also checking up on her predecessor, and really, what was he going to do if she messed it up? Complain? Would just mean her food was a miracle-worker, in a sense.

“And that's how Yaad is doing. He's quite the handful you know. Wish he acted his age more often,” Marcille told the vegetative elf while feeding him some porridge. “I suppose I should thank you though, he's really taking the load off Laios. I don't know what you did back at the feast, but I'm pretty sure he would have turned to dust by now if it weren't for you.”

Hearing that, the former court jester's eyes betrayed the slightest glimmer of awareness, softening and moving in Marcille's general direction. Still not quite meeting her gaze, but she knew then she had to keep pushing.

“He's been asking a lot about you, you know? I'm sure he visits, but I thought you'd want to know that even when he's outside, he's worried about you.” she started paying more attention to his movements and they were indeed a lot more responsive. He closed his eyes in shame, a small curve on his lips formed when she told him he was worried about him. He was more lucid than he'd ever been in the last month. And so, his doctor pulled out her secret weapon. “I've been holding onto this for you. Since you're here now, I think you should have it.”

She took out Thistle's locket from back when she was looking for the key to his study and she saw eyes jolt open for the first time... ever really. His pupils dilated and trembled as Marcille unlocked it, locking in to the images dancing in front of his eyes.

“W-Why?” his voice was brittle, strained from months of disuse. Even as his eyes did not let go of the images of his past, Marcille could tell he was struggling to articulate something. “Why... help...?”

She had given that a lot of thought in the past month. Despite his current condition, despite the people that cared for him, this man was a murderer. He'd killed her entire party, he had twisted Falin into a mindless beast. His actions wrought suffering and death for over a millennium, and he had tortured the people of his realm with unwanted immortality. To most of the world, he was a monster, no, worse than one. Monsters killed to survive and in doing so kept the wheel of life turning. He had wrested it from moving. To the rest of the world, he was a demon.

To Marcille, he was a mirror of what could have been.

“Because... you want to live. Yaad wants you to live. And I think that's worth something.” There was definitely more to be said. He could not evade punishment, could he? But in this moment, she only saw a lost lamb, shambling away from a lion who had had it's fill from him. “We're still worth something.”

The two former Dungeon Lords truly locked eyes for the first time since the fall of their dungeon. Marcille found herself giving him the self-same smile that her mother blessed her with every time she apologized for her misgivings while she laid the necklace around his neck. A pair of tears ran down the elf's now darker, healthier skin while he looked down at it. Marcille decided to leave so that he could reflect.

“Painting... don't.” he mumbled just as she was reaching for the door. She turned around, confused, but Thistle had drifted off again.

Well, good to see grew his national crypticness back. she mused, leaving with just a tiny bit weight lifted from her shoulders.

-*-

“Alright you two, break it up!” Marcille exclaimed with a clap of her hands. Laios breathed out in relief as Falin dropped the arm lock she had just put him in, Marcille knowing that if she had called it a moment later, she'd have an arm to put back together.

“And that's how I felt when we wrestled for our dogs' naming rights.” Falin told her brother, forcefully poking his still sore arm, pride beaming off her now slightly more open eyes.

“Marcille already told me I was awful...” Laios admitted, both girls crossing their arms and staring him down for something else. “Okay, okay. I'm very sorry Falin... you can name the...!” Marcille glared at him, sure he was about to let something slip about on their project. “Our next dog!”

Luckily the hesitation seemed to go right over Falin's head. Probably was too full of satisfaction for paying her brother back.

“Since you're so happy-go-lucky, I'm assuming nothing felt off?” Marcille picked up the notebook she had for this particular situation and noted off this week's examination as consistent on her end.

“About the same as last week. I did feel a bit more control though.” Laios replied, Falin echoing the sentiment. Sure enough, that had been what Marcille had noted when she was watching them fight it out.

“Me too, though I don't know how much of it is just us acclimating to it.” she added, Marcille nodding along while she wrote down the statements.

“That's true, you were never big on physical reinforcement magic and Laios is still a student, so we can't be sure if this isn't just a beginner's learning curve. Would be nice if things were actually settling down though,” this wouldn't give Marcille peace of mind but, if nothing else, it'd give them time to carefully examine their condition.

“I slipped a question about it to Fionil a couple days ago and she didn't comment on anything off with her magic.” Falin was the only one of the three with the freedom of schedule to get around, so Marcille had asked her to see if any adventurers in town had suffered similar symptoms.

“I thought about asking Pattadol but then I saw her fairy...” Laios explained.

“Oh, Pattadol's back already? That's nice, more fodder for the workforce!” the overworked court magician playfully chimed, the Canary's former captain was the only one Marcille got along with before her talk with Mithrun, so she was glad to have her back from her trip to her homeland to pick up her belongings. "But yeah, we better keep other countries in the dark for now. Good thinking Laios!” the king puffed his chest out and Falin giggled as the trio sat around the table to have lunch.

“You're being awfully thorough about this, even for you Marcille.” Laios told her while filling his bread with assorted leftovers from the previous day's dinner. “Isn't this looking a gifted horse in the mouth?”

“I don't think that's a good comparison Laios. It's more like looking a Kelpie in the mouth,” Falin explained calmly, after all Laios was new to this whole magic thing. “Magic is a living thing too.”

“She's right Laios. If you start seeing a lot more rabbits in a forest, that means there's a problem elsewhere.” Marcille raised her eyebrows at her own metaphor. She didn't use to be so... rural. “Plus, there's been way too many tales of mages that ignored obvious warning signs and got exactly what was coming to them. Like Fafnir.”

“The dragon?” Laios mouthed with his cheeks full of bugs. Marcille cringed, bad example given the company.

“Yes... Fafnir was a dwarf archmage once. Legends scrambled what the real story was, but suffice to say, we know his abuse of magic turned his body into a dragon's. He eventually went mad and had to be put down.” Marcille kept it as short as possible while stealing glances at Falin. “Sorry for bringing that up Falin...”

“Hm? Oh, don't worry, I don't hold any grudge against dragons. Honestly, if he didn't go mad eventually, I'd even be a bit jealous.” she told her stupefied classmate. Laios worried expression did a flip and emphatically raised his hand.

“That's what I was thinking!” they both high fived while Marcille just shoved her sandwich hole into her mouth to distract herself. The Toudens shared the same brain cell when it came to things like this, yet Marcille always foolishly thought there was a limit to their obsession.

“Before we go....” She couldn't believe she was actually doing this, but it was, unfortunately, a necessary evil. “I hate to say this, but we should make some fairies.”

Laios' eyes immediately became aglow, while the opposite seemed to happen to his sister. Strange, Marcille never figured her to be the squeamish type.

“What brought this about Mar? I know how you feel about the creation process.” Falin asked, her amber eyes scanning for any chinks in her armour. Marcille focused on Laios curious gaze instead and prattled off as quickly as she could.

“Well, I'm Laios' court magician, so not having a direct line of communication with him would be irresponsible.” the king nodded along ecstatically, but then came the hard part. Marcille could read his sister's expression like a book. Why me too? Marcille then knew she had to pick her words carefully. “As for you Falin, well, I can't always be there for your brother, would be nice to have a lifeline. Plus, we'd be able to keep in touch easier!”

As much pep as she tried to put in that last bit, the way Falin's eyes narrowed told her everything. She knew it was just that. An act. The air grew cold between the two. Before the half-elf could try to defend her reasoning, Falin stood up, towering above her.

“Marcille, I don't think that justifies the use of Whisperweed. I believe Kabru would be a much better recipient once he comes back.” the general demure and slightly ditzy tone Falin always had was nowhere to be found in that answer. Marcille could hear the real message loud and clear.

If you don't trust me enough to tell me, how can you expect me to?

“Falin, what's wrong?” if there was someone Laios could be trusted to be savvy about, it was Falin. Uncharacteristically though, Falin didn't answer. Instead, she just turned to leave. Her brother grasped at her hand, but she maneuvered out of the way without even looking back.

“I just think... we need to get our priorities in order.” she added, leaving the king and his wizard behind.

Laios and Marcille shared a worried glance as they watched her walk away. She couldn’t help but feel like she should rush after her best friend, but a gentle hand on her shoulder stopped her from taking that first step.

“So, how about those fairies?” Laios asked, the worry in his face masked by his usual excitement for the fantastical.

Perhaps it was best to let the air clear for now.

-*-

Two jars were slammed on the laboratory's table, along with a knife. She was not aware of the dark, brooding scowl she had as she stabbed the knife centimetres away from Laios' hand, momentarily quaking his excitement.

“I see. So, you make them out of a part of your body.” he said, only hesitating a couple seconds before laying his hand on the table and raising the knife to his wrist.

“What no, drop that!” Marcille screamed, the knife being casually thrown back on the table right after. “We only need your blood, you buffoon! Don't pile even more work on me!”

“Oh, that's underwhelming. I thought the reason you didn't have one was because they were hard to make?” well, he wasn't entirely wrong. It was hard to make... psychologically speaking.

“It's very involved mind you!” his master exclaimed, taking out a list of materials and steps. “We're going to have to drain a litre of our blood every month for the next forty weeks since, any longer and it’ll clot and ruin the whole process, and we’ll use that blood to give this thing daily injections.” he nodded along way too enthusiastically given the information given. “I managed to get the medicinal herbs by asking for the Canaries’ leftovers from Pattadol before her and the rest of the Canaries left, it’s not like the elven kingdoms don’t have an excess in budget, and I had some Whisperweed from my own research before coming to the island. Most of the other materials I can buy in town.” She wasn't exactly looking forward to working with manure though.

“I see, so that is why they were able to die. They are much like living beings,” he was already scribbling again. “What's the other flask for then?”

“You see...” Marcille looked around, her blank mind completely forgetting they were in the most secretive room in the castle. “Laios, promise me that you will never bring this up. To anyone!”

“I though the magical community didn't consider the process a secret,” replied the increasingly curious tall-man.

“That doesn't mean more people need to know!” she yelled at him, only restraining herself after because, in fairness to him, he did not know what had her so... embarrassed? “Laios, you're going to have to help me with the last bit. It's...” his eyes bulged with excitement. Hers closed shut. “It's... seminal fluids.”

“Oh...” the long silence that came after did wonders for Marcille' nerves. So, she wasn't the only one to find the process outrageous! “You create a baseline using sem*n and then you inject it with nutrients and your essence for nine months. It's like having a kid then!” She thought she was prepared for this conversation. She thought she understood what the process of creating a fairy was all about. She thought no longer. Then, a lightbulb went off. Thistle’s laboratory! Maybe it was not too late for her yet.

She stole the second container from Laios’ grasp and rushed out of the kitchen and down the stairs towards the bottom layer of the underground lair. A gust of mana washed over her as she entered the miniature dungeon at the end of the stairs, a testing ground for all of Thistle’s monsters and spells, all with rooms dedicated to a specific practice, connected by a central hall. What she was looking for was the northernmost door, the apothecary. Surely, Thistle would have fairy materials there... right?

The stench that assaulted her just as she opened the door immediately drained her hopes. Clearly, a lot of what was inside had long since expired. Still, she marched on. The room was rows upon rows of shelves filled with uncategorized jars, rotten plants and more… exotic materials, like monster body parts. Even less reason to ever let Laios get inside. After wandering for a bit, something caught her eye, something that looked quite out of place in a damp laboratory of a mad scientist.

“A painting? Down here?” Marcille asked no one in particular, her eyes strangely drawn to that particular canvas above the mixing table. Maybe it was worth a look, for Thistle’s sake of course. It was not uncommon for workaholics to immortalize their reasons for working just above their workstation. Would be a perfect insight into his mind, maybe a way to find a desire to anchor him to reality.

P̶a̶i̶n̶t̶i̶n̶g̶.̶.̶.̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶'̶t̶.̶

Strange. She felt like she was forgetting something. But no, she needed to concentrate right now. ̶O̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶f̶a̶i̶r̶y̶! On the canvas! It was not a joyous occasion. That much was clear. It was the same hall that had once crowned Dergal king, with the same man standing at its head, not nearly as young, but not quite as old as Yaad looked to be in his body. There was no food lined up, no red carpet welcoming anyone in. Just a sea of white flowers with a single trailer of red roses cutting through it and directly to the centrepiece of the painting.

An open coffin, a haunting pale beauty laid in it in a river of red flowers of all kinds. She seemed to be a tall-man around the age of the king. Probably his wife, Marcille reckoned. Her eyes were busy elsewhere though. Just off-centre, a tiny jester played his lute. He was drawn in the midst of a song, but Marcille saw no emotion in his eyes. None but fear. She knew that face all too well. This must have been the moment Thistle truly understood the wretched lot in life he drew.

It all felt so familiar. Like an old friend. Or to be more precise, an old friend’s gravestone. She found herself reaching out to the oil, unbothered when all eyes on the painting started staring straight at her, their hands stretching towards hers.

“Marcille!” her body violently yanked back just as shadowy hands sprouted from where the characters’ hands had been. She fell back onto someone’s protective grasp, a flaming blade slicing the grasping hands into shadowy tendrils that dissipated in the ember’s light.

When her mind finally began snapping back to reality, she found herself in a scenario she had dreamed as a child many a time. To be swept off her feet, a cloak billowing dramatically in the wind as a knight with a blazing sword vanquished a beast in her name. She was just about ready to swoon. Then the knight turned to face her.

“Marcille? You with me?” the illusion of the legally distinct Hareus shattered into a much too masculine version of her best friend. She was definitely not dreaming anymore. “Marcille, are you alright?” His face was getting much too close now too!

“B-Boundaries!” she yelled, ducking out of his, admittedly comfortable, grasp and scrambling back first against one of the laboratory’s shelves. In fact she hit it so hard that no one but two unidentified jars shattered on each side of her, the left one leaving a hole on the ground while the other caused roses to sprout from the solid rock beneath her.

“Take it easy Marcille, your mind is still scrambled from the hypnosis.” Laios cautioned, laying down his sword and slowly attempting to close the distance, every step causing her temperature to rise an extra degree. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Stay there! I need space to breathe!” she yelled back, breathless afterwards, still feeling her heart pounding at the walls of her sternum. Laios wordlessly acquiesced and picked his sword back up while she gathered her thoughts. Her brain was mostly functional now, she understood her situation, even if she didn’t understand her current state of mind. She rubbed her face vigorously, took a deep breath and said: “I think I’m better now...”

“Great to hear. Just stay over there for a moment, I’ve got a score to settle with that living painting.” Laios stated, none of the joy that came with dealing with monsters and magical automatons to be found on his voice for once. He once again ignited Kensuke and wordlessly stepped towards the painting.

“Wait!” Marcille exclaimed, worried in equal parts for the attacker and his would-be victim. “Thistle. He mentioned this painting today. Maybe it can help in his treatment.”

He carefully nodded, not taking his eyes off the painting, and slowly, reticently, extinguished the blade and sheathed it. Marcille had seldom seen so much anger explicitly on his face. How peculiar.

“Next time don’t run off on me like that. We don’t know if I can cheat the resurrection system like you did, even if this is still a dungeon of the same maker.” He told her, no, ordered her. He was still King Laios currently. And it felt strange to hear that tone direct at her. Not even in gatherings with the leftover nobility had he given her even a half-formal look.

“Yeah, sorry.” She had been childish, running away like that. Or so she thought. Then she remembered. “Wait, no I’m not! You were the one saying dumb rabbit dung about having a kid with me!”

“Wait, huh? I only compared the process! Plus, strictly speaking this would be like cloning me, right? You’d need to join two different…” he looked back at her and put two and two together. He immediately fell on his knees and kowtowed at her feet, a perfect form, Shuro would’ve been proud. “Please forget about it!”

“What kind of apology is that?!”

“I did the pose though?” He seemed genuinely confused. All his authority had returned to the void.

“You know what… you’re right. Nothing happened,” she looked around, the stench of a thousand decayed components finally working its way into her nostrils. The air was still and soggy. Maybe the longer-lived materials would have survived Thistle’s abandonment, but for bodily fluids, forget about it.

“So, what now?” Laios asked, tentatively standing back up and going back to eyeing the portrait.

“We should probably seal this. At least until we know what’s up with that thing.” Marcille told Laios, pained beyond words at the components she may be dooming in the process. She then looked at her hand, then back to Laios, then back to her hand. There was a pregnant pause as her cheeks flared up again and then: “I don’t care how you do it. I expect this to be full by the time I’m done grinding the Whisperweed.” She handed him the jar, his eyes shooting up with concern.

“And that would be what? A couple weeks? A month?” The air around Marcille grew dark and her smile darker still.

“Three days.” She stated matter-of-factly.

“Three… do you have any idea how m-“

She covered her eardrums with her extended ears and just, walked away. He’d figure something out. If she thought about it any further, she would end up jumping off the nearest tower anyway.

As she pulled the hidden lever to open to open the layer’s exit though, she noticed something. Her heartbeat was still quickened.

“I should probably list that as another symptom.”

-*-

A former Canary, a former locksmith and a former... homeless dwarf stared at each other awkwardly over the dining table. The air was thick with mistrust and confusion around two of them, the dwarf more worried about something else. Marcille herself stared from the entrance to the kitchen, repeatedly eyeing her hourglass and back inside. A cat took a nap.

“Um... if I may, what am I doing here?” Pattadol finally worked up the nerve to ask.

“I can finally ask! What’s she doing here?” Chilchuck concurred, glaring at both the elf and the half-elf. Marcille raised an eyebrow.

“Wait, didn’t Tsumi tell you?” the former Canary’s former prey questioned.

“I’m afraid not. That beast-woman just took my wrist and dragged me through the hallways without a word. I assumed that this was just his Majesty’s way to make a statement, but I’m not so sure now.” the explanation made way too much sense. Izutsumi would rather be attacked than be social. Marcille gave her guardian a glare, but she blissfully just scratched the back of her head, if not asleep, doing a great job pretending to.

“I’m so sorry. I just needed an extra, impartial, judge and so I requested Izutsumi to ask you if you were willing. I should have known better.” Marcille took a small bow, her glare on Izutsumi ever worsening. Truth be told, she had considered asking Falin but... it wasn’t the best time now.

“Oh, is that all?” Pattadol looked past her and into the soft light of the embers. “I’m alright with that. We’ll be working together from now on, Lady Donato, we should smooth out our relationship as soon as we can.”

“I... just Marcille, please.” right, she came from a noble house like Mithrun. This was going to be a pain.

“I don’t know about this Marcille, you’re really going to tank your cred by feeding her half-cooked monsters!” Chilchuck teased, Marcille just pouting and not giving him the satisfaction of a joust. Pattadol didn’t seem to pick up on it, growing increasingly worried, but Marcille had more important things to worry about. Senshi’s gaze pointed towards her hourglass, which was just running out.

In the blink of an eye, she made her way inside, plated three dishes and laid them all in front of her judges. And of course, now Izutsumi was wide awake.

“This... this is just bread with some cheese on top of it!” Chilchuck yelled back, clearly annoyed at his time being wasted. Pattadol seemed equally puzzled. Marcille, however, puffed her chest up and started her speech:

“Here we have a traditional recipe from my homeland. While it may at first appear to be a simple loaf of yeasted bread splashed with cheese, one slice will reveal to you that one’s true worth lay on the inside!” she didn’t care that it sounded obviously rehearsed, it got the job done. Senshi was the first to wordlessly slice open the side of the bread, revealing its carefully crafted interior.

A brilliant egg’s yolk slid out along with another layer of cheese, with his fork having caught onto a thinly sliced piece of mushroom. Pattadol was the next to cut into it, her fork finding itself embedded in in a couple of slices of white meat hidden beneath the yolk. Chilchuck was the last one, carefully and hesitantly following in their footsteps to find Marcille’s favourite part of the dish, the red rounded red strip of meat. Senshi took he first bite, while the other two shared a glance before following suit.

“This is a traditional Calzone Pizza recipe adapted to use Melini’s monsters as it’s ingredients. With Living Mushrooms for the... mushrooms, co*ckatrice for the eggs and fowl meat, Minotaur beef made into Pepperoni, and using Succubus milk as the basis for the cheese, I have created a dish that I believe encapsulates my life in this country. And so, I deem it, the Melinial Pizza!” with the finish she casted a pre-prepared illusion spell of the imagery of the pizza in her head glowing with the title written beneath it.

Really, all that show had been for one thing and one thing only. To calm her nerves. All her training during the last month had led to this. Laios’ birthday was in a week, she needed this to go well so that she could work on his dish unperturbed.

“It’s...” Pattadol was the first to speak.

“It’s...?”

“It’s great!” she exclaimed, staring at the interior of the Pizza. “A couple months ago I’d never have imagined someone could have eaten something this delicious in a dungeon!”

Marcille’s heart fluttered with joy, her ears nearly causing her to take off.

“I have got to admit... I didn’t expect this to be good.” Chilchuck didn’t even look up at Marcille, knowing he had to admit defeat. “I give it a good seven out of ten.”

“That’s low! I give it an eight and a half!” Pattadol said before going back into eating her dinner. Marcille knew better though, to be given anything above a five from Chilchuck was so much more valuable than Pattadol’s higher grade. He had been with them since the start after all. Senshi still didn’t talk.

“Why am I not worth judging this again?” a, clearly jealous, Izutsumi asked. Part of Marcille wanted to be mean and bring up the earlier quandary, but she buckled just a bit.

“I need impartial judges. Not a defamation squad.” she still teased, Izutsumi snarling back at her as while the half-elf walked back into the kitchen or a moment. “Of course, I made some for us though!” revealed Marcille, walking out with one for each of them.

Izutsumi’s ears shot up and eyes widened in awe, not even trying to hide the hint of saliva running down her cheek. She could be so adorable at times!

“But really, Tsumi. How can someone this close to me be expected to be impartial?”

“I’m only guarding you because it’s my job...” Izutsumi feebly answered, even though she spent more than half of each day tailing Marcille. How could they not have grown closer in the preceding month?

“I noticed most of this is monsters we found on the higher levels,” Chilchuck commented, Marcille spinning around to deliver yet another prepackaged line.

“It’s for that extra kick of nostalgia!”

“We only used common ingredients in teaching students.” Senshi interrupted, killing her vibe. Still, he had spoken. And with that he commanded all of the room’s attention. While everyone had talked, he had already finished the dish.

Time stood still for Marcille for everything except Senshi’s pensive beard rub. This was just as bad as when she had delivered her final project at the academy!

“Six out of ten.” Senshi finally declared. Chil and Pattadol looked almost insulted, but the dwarf’s student bounced like a little girl.

“Finally, a positive score!” she exclaimed, hugging Izutsumi even as the girl tried to continue her meal. Marcille had never scored over a three with Senshi through the entire last month. Always going on about how a five would be “doing justice to the beings that died for the dish”.

“I am not done.” Senshi continued, freezing Marcie midair. She fell back on her chair and listened intently. “This is a near perfect recreation of the recipe you showed me. And that in itself deserves a lot of praise Marcille. But you need to stop being afraid to put yourself in the dish.”

Marcille was confused. This was a dish straight from her homeland, something she had eaten countless times before.

“I don’t understand.” It was a vague statement, but her mind was only vaguely grasping at the concept as well.

“You’ve purposedly not used your magic in the cooking process this entire month. You’ve never altered a recipe beyond adapting it to new ingredients. You never questioned my suggestions.” Senshi stood up and paced around the room, finally ending in front of her. “You’ve been the best student I could ask for. But that’ll only take you so far. It’s time to spread your wings.” his demeanour took a quick turn from a stern teacher’s to something more akin to a proud father’s, reaching for Marcille’s head and giving it a good rub.

In that moment, all her worries melted away. She smiled a smile free from guilt and doubt and threw herself onto Senshi, hugging him tightly as friends new and old joined in on the celebration.

-*-

“Once this is all done, what do you plan to do Tsumi?” she asked her companion as the two made their way back to her room from the dinner.

“What’s this all about?” her guard mumbled, betraying her uncertainty.

“The whole spread your wings bit got me a bit introspective.” Marcille shrugged, staring into the night sky as they passed by the windows. She was sometimes still there, dead emerald eyes staring back at her. Not even tonight had truly banished that phantom. What would she do when the inevitable came? Stay in Melini and be its guardian angel so to speak? Something seemed off about that.

“I dunno. Probably stick around and just protect the big boss himself?” it was a noncommittal answer from Izutsumi, but one that felt equally off. She’d just have changed masters at that point. “Don’t give me that look. I actually like the company now! Plus, the food's good here.” Izutsumi added with a grin, playfully elbowing Marcille’s side. The half-elf couldn’t help but return the Favor by scratching her itchy nape. “Probably need to deal with the inevitable rescue party eventually though. They sure are taking their time...”

“Rescue party...?” Marcille suddenly remembered something she had been meaning to ask for this whole past month. “Wait, don’t tell me... you didn’t warn them you were leaving? You ran away from home. AGAIN?!”

“Thank me later.” The nerve on the nonchalant tone of that reply! She had assumed she had at least dropped back the estate to pick up her stuff before running back. “Do I need to remind you that if I had taken even a couple extra seconds, you wouldn’t be here?”

“I… I guess you’re right.” Marcille pouted. She hoped she had finally gotten rid of that entire family. For both her sake’s and Falin’s. It still didn’t make her feel any less frustrated. “Why does everyone, besides Laios, just refuse be honest and straight with Shuro. When they inevitably come here looking for you, I'm dragging you to the entrance hall so that you can tell them they can beat it!”

“You’re one to talk.” replied the former retainer, both girls stopping in their tracks just after entering the hallway leading to Marcille’s room. “It’s been a month Marcille. A very lucky month, but your excuse is running out. Laios’ a lot cheerier with you on his team and Falin’s a smart one. When are you planning on telling ‘em?”

“I don’t want to ruin Laios’ birthday. He... at the Academy, Falin said they never really celebrated one of those at home and given how much he hates talking about the army, I doubt he had any good experiences there.” Izutsumi seemed to understand, thinking back on the moment, Marcille would eventually realize that Tsumi probably went through the same. “I want him to be able to have at least one divorced from any of the worries of the world before he takes the throne proper.”

“You’re such a softie. Alright then. One week?” Izutsumi said with a barely disguised grin.

“One week.” Marcille took her guardian’s hand and sealed the deal. Relief washed over her, finally having a date where she could stop this charade would quash the guilt she felt every time she met one of them. Opening the door to her room, she had not expected to see it illuminated by lanternlight still. Nor to see a tall-man young woman reading on her bedside. At least, not after what had happened earlier in the day.

“Marcille, we need to talk.” Falin stated as she put down her book, her gaze appearing to finally pierce through Marcille’s barriers.

Did she even have a week anymore?

Chapter 7: Coena Libera

Chapter Text

-*-

Marcille felt naked, sitting across the room from Falin like this. Alone. Izutsumi had been sent away by the tall-man girl and ever since then, she hadn’t said a single word, just stared out the castle’s window while stealing furtive looks on the half-elf. Marcille’s mind raced, how much did Falin know? Was she waiting for Marcille to come clean? Why wouldn’t she say so. How much did Falin hate her now?!

“Falin I... I’m so sorry.” was all she managed to utter. Her courage failed her the moment Falin’s eyes met hers. “I should have told you.”

“You should have. I thought I was doing well keeping my preparations under the wraps, but I should have known I couldn’t trick you, of all people, Mar.” Falin looked so downcast, so disappointed in... herself?

Wait, trick me?

“I won’t ask you how you found out, but I’ll come clean.” she took a deep breath. “I do want to leave Melini.” Marcille wasn’t sure if she was dumbfounded because of what she hadn’t heard or what she had just heard. And it definitely showed in her expression if Falin’s own’s descent into panic was anything to go by. “It’s not your fault, don’t make that face!”

“I... sorry. I’m just... I don’t understand.” Marcille stumbled, still trying to gather her thoughts. If it wasn’t her, was it Laios? Definitely not. Was she trying to escape Shuro? No, he wasn’t that bad. Was she being harassed?! “Falin, is someone hurting you?!”

“Wha-No! Just... let me try to explain.” it was a bit relieving to know that the two of them were still terrible at talking these things through. “It’s just that... it feels like everything I’ve ever done is going with the tide. My parents and Laios pampered me until my talents showed up. Then I got shipped across the land to a school I didn’t have any interest on. I met you here, and you were wonderful, like a second coming of my brother. But I still did nothing but cling to your coattails.”

“That’s not true! You opened my eyes to so much! I wouldn’t be the person that I am if it weren’t for you!” Marcille had always known about Falin’s self-esteem issues, but she’d never have imagined them to be this serious. “You’re important to me Falin. You’re important to all of us. We love you.”

“And that’s why this is so hard!” she screamed, eyes starting to glitter from the forming tears. “I know that. I know about all of that. And that makes me hate myself. I’m just... so selfish!”

It was at this time that Marcille let go of all other concerns she had come into this talk with. Falin needed her, that was all that mattered. She walked over to her best friend and pulled her into a hug.

“There’s no way that’s true Falin. We are only here because you would rather die than to be selfish.” Marcille pulled away and wiped the tears from Falin’s face. “Now, if it’s not too hard, tell me what’s eating you up inside.”

Falin meekly nodded, breathing out and smacking both her cheeks to gather some nerve.

“After I left the Academy and I found my brother, we did what we had always wanted to do and just adventure together. But... that had not really been my choice. I was just following Laios’ dream. I even dragged you into it.”

“And I’m thankful for that!” Marcille exclaimed before Falin started beating herself up again. “I mean, it was hard at first, and Laios was a scary... thing when I first met him. Your fault for telling me he was just like you!”

“He is though! It’s your fault for not studying on the gender dimorphism in other races!” Falin snapped back, a tiny hint of a smile starting to creep back on her.

“Be that as it may, I probably would have stayed that depression time bomb if you hadn’t introduced me to him. So don’t start spinning it as a bad thing.”

“That’s not what I meant. What I was saying is that, until now, all I did was follow other’s orders, follow other’s dreams, follow loved ones. I’m my parent’s daughter, Laios’ sister, your best friend. Now that I can do anything... I don’t know what Falin wants.” it all clicked with Marcille too. A month ago, she hadn’t been able to tell Yaad what Falin wanted from her life. She had thought herself a terrible friend for not even showing interest in it. The truth was a lot more disconcerting.

“Why does that make you want to leave us though?” Was this really something Falin wanted?

“I wondered if part of it is a remnant of the dragon’s will. That gave me pause. Was I really making this decision by my own?” Falin gripped her feathers, genuinely seeming to consider trying to rip them off. “But after the last couple months, I think the only thing the alien blood coursing through me is doing is intensifying my desires. I have not wanted anything else that I wouldn’t have before. I just want... more.”

“That does sound like a dragon. Considering how they just take over a region and make it their lair, it doesn’t seem like it would be trying to influence you to leave. If anything, it would be the opposite.” Falin nodded at Marcille’s assessment. Laios’ babbling was becoming increasingly more applicable, it almost scared her.

“And that’s why I have been making preparations. I want to see the world Marcille, by myself. So that one day, maybe, when I look at the mirror, I see myself, and not what I need to be.”

“Will... will you ever come back?” Marcille asked. She knew she was the real selfish one in this room. Falin had poured her heart out to her about freedom, and she still wanted to have her close.

“Of course! This is my home. It’ll always be my home!” Falin replied with a smile that could illuminate the night’s sky. “Once I find myself, maybe I can finally feel like I’m standing alongside with you two.”

Marcille knew it was not in her place to say that she always had been. Falin seemed as lost as her, but, unlike her, she had found her road to tomorrow, she would never take that away from her.

“I stand by your decision then. I’m sure Laios will too if you haven’t told him yet.” she replied with a smile.

“Oh, thank goodness.” this time Falin was the one pulling her in to a hug. “I still have some things to get in order,” she smirked at Marcille in particular with that one, and there was something in that smirk that Marcille knew she wouldn’t like. “But I’m just so glad to finally come clean. I couldn’t handle having secrets between us!”

It took all of Marcille’s willpower to not flinch as Falin unwittingly drove a knife straight into her gut.

Can I ever tell her? She maintained her smile as Falin carried on, every praise sent her way wrenching it deeper and deeper. Would she really be able to become an anchor for her? Should she even tell Laios? Force him into the same situation she was in?

She broke eye contact to look out the window and saw a distorted figure laughing hysterically where her reflection should be.

-*-

My life is forever yours, to care for or shred. Laios put down the book he had just finished reading. It was all so alien to him, the pageantry, the glamor, the drama. These characters seemed to function on a completely different wavelength than him. What’s new, really? It deflated him still, there was not much from those, admittedly enjoyable, reads that he could use to figure out what was going on with him.

“I really think you should just tell her.” Laios’ sister advised from her corner of the room, for the umpteenth time no less. The older of the Toudens grumbled as he put down the sixth volume of the Donato girl’s favourite series. These had not yet helped him at all.

“I don’t even know what it is I should tell her,” Falin’s eyesight had improved by leaps and bounds ever since she came back to life, so she had lost her habit of squinting, but this answer brought it back in full force.

“Brother, please. We’ve gone through this when I came back, when she moved in, after our dinner with Chilchuck’s daughters and after her first day as court magician,” Falin enumerated, pretending to count with her fingers with a smile. “I guess you need to be told a handful of times. You lo-“

“Falin! I know what you think!” The king felt like he was beginning to have a heart attack once that strange word had begun to appear. Falin for her part only smiled sweetly at his plight, clearly aware of many things he was not.

“But you still have not told me why you hesitate. Come on now, I think I deserve that much for sneaking these books out for you.” Sitting next to her brother, she leaned her head on his shoulder and looked up with the most pleading eyes she could muster, like she had done so many times as children.

“You’re cheating with that look.” She didn’t deny it. She had learnt this technique from their dogs, the only surefire way to get her brother and father to open up. “But, if you must know, I’m happy with how we are right now. We spend most days together, we laugh, eat, cheer. I wouldn’t mind if these days went on forever.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s possible brother. Especially if you just idle away instead of working for it.” As tactful and kind as Falin tried to be, that last line was a stab to her brother’s heart, and she knew it. “Is this about your lifespan? Or rather, her’s?”

“…yes. I don’t see a way where this works out for both. Even in the, incredibly unlikely, chance that your hunch about me is right, would it even be right to try?”

“As sweet as it may be of you to put her mental wellbeing ahead of your desires...” Falin stood back up and started walking to the other side of the room, hands tucked behind her back. “Frankly Brother, that’s not for either of us to figure out. It’s Marcille’s life, and if all those books are anything to go by, I can hazard a guess she may be in the market,” the younger of the two twirled around and smiled at her all-but-trembling brother, the soft shared glance relieving just a bit of his stress.

“I’m not exactly the suave cosmopolitan these books love to pair girls with,” Laios mumbled, a weak excuse, but one that Falin, in her never-ending patience, still indulged.

“I think she can... mostly, distinguish reality from fiction,” if it weren’t for the Succubi’s usage of a character from that book, she’d sound a lot surer. “Regardless, you’re stalling... again. Next, you’ll bring up how Chilchuck yelled at you to keep love life out of the party.”

“I... wasn’t. Yet.” had he really gotten that predictable? Falin really was right, they were going in circles, weren’t they?

“And I’d explain how she’s not the kind of person to take advantage of it and that she’s not even your party member anymore. Now, what were you going to bring up then?” Falin continued, giving the mirror a strange side-eye but returning to eyeing Laios. It took him a minute or two to put it into coherent words.

"Still talking hypothetically, mind you. I wouldn’t want to make things awkward if it’s not mutual. Or worse, drive her away...” he shivered at that last bit.

“Well, you won’t to worry about that last part.” Falin mumbled, to which Laios disagreed. She could go anywhere in Melini freely, but he wanted her to stay right here. “But what would be more awkward. A couple of weeks after a rejection, or your entire life wondering what could be? What if she, hypothetically, gets proposed to by, I don’t know, Mithrun or Pattadol?”

“I’d really rather not think about it...” though something told him that he didn’t need to worry that much about Mithrun.

“Well, seems like I have made my point. Fionil is waiting for me, good luck waking up the sleeping beauty!” And just as quickly as she had infiltrated his room at night, his increasingly drifting sister had vanished like the wind, leaving him with his thoughts.

Normally, his favourite time of day would be fast-approaching, waking Marcille up and dragging her to the breakfast hall had been some of his only full reprieve from all the learning and paperwork of Kingship, but after that previous talk he could not feel less up to it. He couldn’t even imagine being able to look her in those soft... tender... emerald eyes...

Focus Laios!

He turned to the mirror, wondering if today would be the day that he’d start trying out styling his hair as a way to access magic without meditation. Maybe he should grow out his hair a bit first? “I wonder if I could practice on Marcille’s.” What started as a purely practical hypothetical became a simultaneously a lot more attractive and embarrassing once the rest of his brain caught up. “I don’t get the appeal,” he grumbled as he looked at the romance novel that made this state of being out to be peak of one’s life. He splashed water on his face, momentarily pushing out those thoughts out of his mind and looked back in the mirror. “Oh great, you’re back.”

It had started with just seeing the right half of his body’s attired replaced with his armour from the dungeon in the mirror, which he just chalked up to magic induced hallucinations. But it had slowly morphed into something more concrete. First, his right arm was covered in a gauntlet that emulated a dragon’s claw, then his neckpiece had a horn protruding from the back, after that the cape was not from made form lion’s skin anymore, being a bloodied leather instead, and finally, most recently, half of his face wore a permanent scowl, with his baggy eye having a mind of its own it seemed like. If this kept going, he may have to bite the blade an just tell Marcille about it, he was pretty sure these were symptoms of whatever they had.

“Well, I have someone waiting for me, so if you’re just going to stare...” for once, he wasn’t. His right eye directly pointed towards the stack of letters beneath the mirror. “I’ll get to those, don’t worry Mister Demon King.” Laios began leaving the room before feeling a stiff air current hit him from the back. He turned around to see that his window was indeed, still closed, but a letter had flown into his hands from it. He glared back at the mirror, but it was back to normal.

“Next examination I’m fibbing on you.” He threatened, examining the letter. It wasn’t even signed, just addressed to Laios, no honorifics. That was rare nowadays. It wouldn’t hurt to see what this was about, he guessed. He opened it and read it out loud as he walked to his court mage’s room.

“We heard about Marcille. We’ll be at the castle within a fortnight. -Kabru.” Now that was strange. Kabru finishing a letter in two sentences? And the handwriting looked awful. He must have been in a hurry. But more importantly, what about Marcille? “He can’t be that mad I appointed her, can he? How does he even know?! Does he have spies tracking me?!” Before he could question it further, as he was turning the corner into the stairwell leading to her room, a very familiar half-elven lump crashed into him, falling straight on her bum while he barely stumbled.

“Oh, hey Marcille!” all his paranoia vanished instantly, and he suddenly was just a merry puppy holding a paw out to a very panicky bookworm.

“L-Laios! You’re early.” she seemed tempted not to take his hand, glancing about for any other way to get back up, but she eventually did.

“Falin had something scheduled with Fionil, so she checked up on me earlier than usual.” He explained, massaging the fact that “earlier than usual” was in the middle of the night so that he could sneak some reading before the day started.

“What a coincidence! I also have something scheduled with… Chil! I should go!” Marcille tried to pull away, but Laios wasn’t letting go yet. She sounded more frantic than usual and that was saying a lot, but that was not what was on his mind.

“Before you go, I have this letter from Kabru about-“

“Sorry Laios, I’m taking the day off. We can talk later, bye!” The girl finally managed to pry her hand from his and flew down the hallway, leaving a very confused and a bit downcast king behind her. Just then, her shadow passed by him, looking very amused by the situation. Laios hated to admit it, but he was getting a bit... suspicious as to how much Izutsumi tailed Marcille ever since she mysteriously came back.

“Hey, Izutsumi. Did she even sleep?” he wanted to ask her more, but he’d honestly be okay knowing that Marcille wasn’t relapsing.

“Like a log,” Shuro’s sister’s retainer answered casually before bolting after his court wizard.

“Did I do something to scare her off then?” Laios wondered as he headed to his next meeting, knowing that his mind would be elsewhere for the rest of the day.

-*-

I can’t let him catch on the day before! Marcille told herself, still feeling guilty for how much disappointment she had felt in Laios’ voice when she ran from him. She looked over her shoulder for the dozenth before pushing the door to the adventurer’s guild’s Melini HQ open.

She was happy to see that, even this close to sunrise, there were already dozens of workers moving the furniture around and lugging ingredients into the kitchen.

“The little princess is late,” Chilchuck snarked from atop a pair of boxes. He took a moment to bark a couple orders to the races more capable of this kind of work and jumped off to meet her.

“You really like that nickname nowadays.” Marcille grumbled, throwing off her hood and looking around to see if there was anything she could help with on the preparations without resorting to magic.

“I’ve had a gut feeling after what happened a month ago, especially after someone leaked personal information to my daughters,” and they said that elves were the ones to keep grudges. The half-elf understood that she deserved at least some ribbing, but not in the middle of all these people.

“I know what you’re getting at, but you have to understand Chilchuck, that just like you didn’t see your life partner on the succubus because of the stress it currently induces in you, Laios seeing me only says that I am the most important person in his life that is not related to him, not that he is romantically interested in me. Succubi work on a priority system, they go for romantic entanglements first, and then if there are none or there is trauma attached to them, they’ll go to the next best thing and-”

“Someone’s been studyiiiiiing.” Marcille nearly coughed her lungs at the impact of a huge hand on her spine. That had to be Namari. Which meant...

“Chilchuck! And you dare accuse me of “leaking”?!” the mage’s eyes were burning red, her staff roared, telling her to burn that deadbeat husband.

“He’s very bad at keeping secrets when he gets ten beers in, don’t be too harsh on him!” Namari added with a hearty laugh, smacking Ambrosia right of her friend’s hands.

“Good grief. Of course I studied it. I had to understand what exactly had happened back then. I mean, I was pretty sure it was all a big misunderstanding, but now I am sure.” It was clear by the dwarf and the half-foots looks that they weren’t nearly as convinced as she wanted them to, even after all that rambling. Honestly, she wasn’t either, but she was oddly okay with it.

“As amusing as seeing you try to cope your way out of this is, we’re behind schedule. Put your magic to use and move some tables or something,” Chilchuck finally said once his goons started asking for extra directions.

“If you ask me, isn’t making this a huge bash kind of defeating the point? I thought you were trying to throw him a normal birthday party.” Namari commented, probably buying some more breaktime since she wasn’t getting paid for any of this.

“It was going to be smaller, but Falin tattled to Rin and Fionil, then they tattled to their party, and, well, it escalated from there.” Marcille pretended to be annoyed, but in truth, it warmed her heart that the former butt of every joke on the island had gained so many people willing to celebrate with him. “Besides, the point of this is to be as informal as possible. It’s just Laios and all the adventurers he spent the last half a decade with and none of the nobles that we’ll probably have to pretend to care about for every subsequent year. Kind of like a bachelor’s party.”

It looked like Namari wanted to make a comment about that, but one, harsh, glare from Marcille shut her up.

Regardless, they had wasted enough time, if they wanted to get this ready for tomorrow, they had to start as soon as possible.

It was tough but satisfying work. The company made it a lot easier to tolerate. Before, her party felt isolated from most of the adventuring community, and most of all Marcille, who was a very recent arrival to the island, but in the last couple months, the ones that had chosen to stay had become pretty much her neighbours. More and more did she feel the need to lead Melini into a bright tomorrow.

About two hours in, the doors to the guild slid open. In the midst of all the hub-hub, only Izutsumi seemed to notice.

A crate bursting open caught everyone else’s attention.

Before Marcille could figure out what had caused it, she found Izutsumi standing behind her, not to protect her, but in hiding. The reason for the reversal of roles becoming apparent when she saw that man walking through the door.

“Greetings everyone. It’s been some time.” Toshiro Nakamoto, Shuro for everyone now, announced with a bow. Most adventurers returned hearty greetings, but Chilchuck and Namari immediately stood between him and the half-elf, knowing how she had always been in his presence. “Chilchuck, Namari... Marcille and Asebi. It’s good to see you.”

“What’re you doing here? And looking like that?” Marcille growled at the perceived intruder. It was strange for her to see Shuro out and about without an armour, especially so with his strange eastern way of dressing, a kimono, was it? He even looked especially dishevelled with an unkempt beard, raspy hair and what should probably be pure white fabric to match his real name stained black.

“Oh, you mean my formal wear. I only took what was on me when I snuck out of my estate.” The team’s former attacker explained with a disconcerted chuckle.

“You…”

“Ran…”

“From Home…”

“Too?!”

Marcille, Chilchuck, Namari and even Izutsumi sequenced perfectly, only causing the nervous scratching of the young noble to intensify.

“You could put it that way. I choose to see it as exercising my duty as the next head of the family to pay our dues.” That was the Shuro that Marcille knew and… disliked, always trying to twist things to pass himself as better than.

“Is paying your dues a code for kidnapping Falin?!” Marcille knew that even for her that was a reach and a half, but the sooner she could scare this guy away the better.

She didn’t expect him to actually look terrified.

“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m in any rush to talk about that with F-Falin. I mean, we’re still young and there’s still so much to experience and...” everyone shared a knowing look while Shuro’s rant raged on.

Oh, he knows.

“We aren’t getting any younger here Shuro and I’m not here to be a love guru. It’s nice seeing ya, but is there anything you need? We are kinda busy.” Chilchuck questioned, the half-foot moving in-between the easterner and Izutsumi as well.

“Oh, right.” despite the ever more threatening atmosphere in front of him, Shuro seemed thankful for the topic change. “I was looking to have a private talk with Asebi, but...” his skin was all but sizzling from the half-elf and half-foot’s gaze at this point. “I’ll settle for doing it here if it makes you more comfortable.”

“I’d be way more comfortable with you across the ocean.” Izutsumi finally found the nerve to say, shooting a weak imitation of her normal glare in tandem. Shuro politely played along, looking away and fidgeted with his bag.

“You heard her, the exit’s that-” a hand pulled on Marcille’s tunic before she could finish, the court wizard turning to see Chilchuck shaking his head. The most down to earth of the group, he glanced at Izutsumi, then back at Shuro, and finally sighed in defeat.

“If you can’t do it in front of us, you aren’t doing it at all.” as he had to do countless times before, Chilchuck drew a line in the sand and had asked both sides to meet in the middle. “I’m only doing this for old time’s sake.” The girls did not seem happy with it, Shuro himself nodded, though clearly wary of Marcille.

“Fine, I’m tired of this mouse and cat game.” Marcille groaned, her barb going unnoticed by its target, so she ever so slightly moved out of the way between Shuro and his family’s former retainer.

The young lord gave both of his former party members a terse nod and walked to meet the still defiant beast-woman in front of him.

“I understand that we were not the home you hoped us to be but-”

“Cut the crap Toshiro. If you’re here to take me back, you’ll have to drag my cold dead body.” having summoned her nerve again, Izutsumi finally managed to return to her normal self, barging in to stand mere centimetres away from her target, claws ready to draw blood.

“Izutsumi!” Chilchuck reprimanded, a wordless exchange between the half-foot and his de-factor adopted kin being enough to make her stand down. Shuro looked unphased, something Marcille believed to betray no regrets.

“As I was saying, Asebi. I understand that we were not able to give you solace, but, for what it’s worth, I truly considered you a peer.” pretty words, Marcille thought, but soulless. His expression had not wavered, not once, even as he reached for his bag, pulling out a small envelope. “With reverence to all that we shared; I’d like you to have this. Not as the next head of the Nakamoto family, but as Toshiro... Shuro if you’d rather.” For the first time since he had returned, his expression softened, betraying some fear in the midst of what Marcille loathed to admit seemed to be gratefulness.

“A moment.” still, she could not find it in herself to trust this guy. She weaved a magical detection spell with Ambrosia, not even holding her abnormal mana flow back. The result was that she not only saw, but knew, no magic had been used on this envelope or its contents. It had not ever been in contact with it during its entire existence even. “It’s... safe.”

Toshiro seemed insulted, but he did not say anything. His gaze simply met Izutsumi’s again as the girl’s emotions battled against her mind as to what to do with the envelope.

“You’re free to refuse. But at least take a look at what’s inside.” added Shuro, the tacit admission that he was not here to force her to do anything seeming to go a long way for Asebi to take a hold of the envelope. She quickly ripped off the top and pulled out its contents. It was a simple, neatly folded letter with the kind of paper that you’d only see used in official documents. In fact, as Izutsumi opened it, Marcille could even see the Nakamoto family seal emblazoned on the bottom.

At first, Izutsumi seemed equal amounts confused and apprehensive. Then, her eyes bulged as she continued reading, lips trembling and hands barely able to hold the paper still.

“This is... a certificate of citizenship!” she yelled, directing her emotions back to the man in front of her. “You can’t... they weren’t... it’s not your place to!”

Marcille and Chilchuck could do nothing but share a confused glance, something their former party member seemed to catch on, as he began with:

“In the Eastern Archipelago, retainers are considered to be nothing but extensions of their lord.” Marcille and Chilchuck gasped, not at the inhumanity of it, but the full weight of the offering truly setting in. “Maizuru just does not have a retainer by the name of Asebi anymore.” he approached the now watery eyed young girl in front of him and calmly raised his hand towards her. “It’s good to meet you, Izutsumi.”

The former Asebi bit her lip, her eyes focusing on the hand in front of her as she held everything in. She reached for it and barely managed to grab it before her trembling knees finally buckled. Chilchuck grabbed the letter as it escaped from her hand, while Marcille and Shuro kneeled next to the crying teenager, the person she was guarding gently rubbing her shoulder as her former owner’s brother watched on.

For the first time since they met, Marcille turned to Shuro and smiled.

-*-

“She’ll never admit it, but I think she needs a premature lunch break.” Chilchuck told the group outside as he and Marcille left Izutsumi in one of the guild’s private rooms. It had been impossible for anyone that was even remotely aware of the ever aloof and standoffish beast-woman to not worry as she broke down into a crying heap mid-preparations. Marcille knew that she had had to mingle with the crowds on her investigations, but it still warmed her heart to see so many worried about her little guardian angel.

She was far more mixed on Shuro still being there, even if she knew it was unwarranted. She was glad to see that she didn’t need to break the ice with him, since Namari approached him instead.

“So, no entourage, heh?” she jabbed, getting a chuckle from the eastern man. Maybe because they were the closest to what someone would consider normal adults, they had always gotten along the best out of the original party.

“Hard to travel incognito while surrounded by women,” he poked back, earning himself a swift and harsh smack straight into solar plexus.

“Stop gloating. So, you here for long?”

“I’m sure my retainers won’t have much trouble finding me. Until then though, I guess I can lend a hand around here. Like I said back then, I have to debts to repay, and Laios is high up on that list.” Marcille sighed at the sheer sincerity of it all. He was making it mighty hard to stay mad at him. Still, this would not do. She walked up to him and grabbed on to his head with the opening from her staff.

“Not looking like an abandoned mutt, you aren’t. Let me tell you where you can find some spare clothes and a bath.” Marcille said, taking a bit of pleasure to the reticent and scared look that Shuro gave her as she dragged him away. Once they were outside the hall, she simply gave him directions to the castle and where to go there before getting to the thing that she really wanted to tell him.

“I know we had, and have, our differences Shuro. But I am truly grateful for what you did with Tsumi there. As such, I will not stand in the way of your... attempt at Falin,” she began, quickly cutting off the happy grin that came from the guy in front of her with. “However. As the closest person to Falin that also understands romance, I have to warn you, your chances are slim to none." she hoped for this to discourage him, maybe even end it right here. She wasn’t lying after all, or even massaging the truth. When everyone made bets on what would happen if Shuro came back for her, only Laios voted towards her saying yes. Unfortunately for her, she did not understand Toshiro.

“I know. But that’s alright. I would never pass up that slim chance,” he replied, grin undaunted. She could not understand this man at all, and it truly rubbed her the wrong way. “I understand your confusion, but in East we have a saying. One that I failed to follow after our fight with the dragon. A life driven by fear is no life at all.”

Unbeknownst to Shuro, this cut straight through the girl’s barriers. It hit too close to home. Like someone had voiced something that had been taught to her for the last few months. She didn’t even, really, hear whatever Shuro said as he politely waved her goodbye to go fix himself up on the castle.

“I'll never see eye-to-eye with that guy.”

-*-

It was chilly. She should probably say it was cold, freezing even. Marcille yawned, her body still sore from an entire day of moving furniture and preparing the kitchen for the day after. As awareness washed over her, she realized she was sitting up. Had she crashed on one of the tables? That would be bad, she needed to be in peak performance come the morning.

But then, she heard it. A chirp. An oh-so familiar chirp. She opened her eyes. She was in her living room. Again. Sitting at her dinner table, the kitchen in sight, and within it, Pipi calling to her from the shoulder of another, equally familiar, yet less welcome sight.

“Well, if it isn’t the great pretender,” the Dungeon Lord greeted, the same cackle Marcille had heard every time she looked in a mirror in the past week ringing through the room.

“Dropping the preamble?” she sneered at her counterpart, who looked to be gleefully preparing a meal. As if she couldn’t manifest it right in front of her.

“We’re not that dumb. I don’t expect to catch you in the same trick twice,” the Dungeon Lord hummed while petting Pipi, who, much to Marcille’s horror, pecked at her ears like he had done so many times before to her.

“Keep your hands off him!” she tried to move, but her legs, arms, even her neck were all numb. Of all the times to suffer from sleep paralysis.

“Maybe I overestimated us. This isn’t Pipi, and you know that. Shall I remind you what Pipi is?” she snapped her fingers and the golden bird erupted in green flames, instantly being reduced to his bones.

“Pipi!” Marcille's worst memory all but reduced her back to the same small child that had witnessed the burial all those years ago. But this time, her body didn’t even allow her to cry. “What do you want with me?! What even are you?!”

“Who knows. I’m genuinely not sure myself. Your guilt would be the easy answer. But we hate those, don’t we?” the monster in her skin mused, betraying no will to lie to herself. “As for your first question. I just want you to enjoy your last meal.”

“Last... meal?” repeated Marcille, watching as her counterpart started plating something, humming the same tune her father used to hum to lull her to sleep. As if that was not enough torture, the skeleton on her shoulder slowly, clumsily, started imitating Pipi’s habits. She tried so very hard to summon anything, the strength to stand, any spell under her repertoire, but nothing came of it. She could only watch the macabre ritual unfold.

Once the Lord was done playing with her food, metaphorically or otherwise, she cradled it to the table, wherein its empty chairs were immediately filled with facsimiles of her mother and father, thankfully ones that were content just sitting there though.

“Well then, eat up. It’s your last meal, and I even granted you an audience.” Marcille glared at her, not even deigning the dish a look. “Really? And I put so much love into it. Oh, right, I forgot our pets.” and just like that, Falin and Laios now sat on the other side of the table. “You know this isn’t fake because you’re the reason they are stuck here!” it taunted, all four of her “audience” growing the same vacant, lifeless smile.

Marcille looked down to the dish, just to get her eyes away from those... things. It was Octopus Carpaccio, a perfect replica of the one her mother prepared. The only difference was that the octopus looked... discoloured. And much, much thicker than usual. A monster?

“I put our heart and soul on it. Eat up, it’s my last gift to you!” she hated how sincere that thing sounded. She expected this to be another taunt, she was unable to move after all. But once she tried again, she found herself able to pick up her knife just fine.

This would have to do.

She flipped the knife into a backwards grip and pushed herself on top of the, increasingly amused, copy of herself, knocking both of them to the ground. She pushed her shoulder to the floor with one hand and raised the knife with the other.

“What a waste. And I thought one never refused one’s final request.”

“Stop taunting me! You’re just a sick prank my mind is playing on me, there’s no way you know something I don’t!” Marcille screamed back, her tears finally flowing as her body returned to its owner’s control.

“And here I thought we weren’t ones to jump to conclusions.” taunted the nightmare. For the first time, Marcille got a good look at her eyes. Or rather... her inability to. There was something wrong with them. The iris was being pulled apart. It was eerily familiar.

She started feeling warm.

“Not much time left. If you want to make our last meeting a memorable one, it has to be now!”

Marcille! You idiot, stop crying!

Marcille was tired. So tired of this. She wasn’t going to stoop to this thing’s level. She let go of the knife, for the first time seeing her counterpart’s smirk twist into a snarl.

“A coward to the end.”

She didn’t deign it with an answer.

-*-

Marcille’s soul was slapped back into her body.

“TSUMI!” she yelled, happy to still have a jaw attached to be able to do so.

Izutsumi seemed oddly relieved. She was straddling Marcille, on top of her bed, the sun still only poking its head in the horizon. Marcille realized she had been crying. Yet, she couldn’t quite remember why.

“Good. You were laughing and crying for the last half an hour. What the hell was that about?!” as coarse as that sounded, Marcille knew better, the girl was concerned about her. Taking her arms out of the sheets, she pulled her guardian into a hug and just... breathed. Slowly.

“I... can’t remember. I think I’m glad though. Doesn’t seem like the kind of dream I’d be happy to write in my diary about.” She half-joked, Izutsumi pushing her away as soon as Marcille seemed to regain composure.

“And here I thought they were attacking you through your dreams. Well, whatever, get up. The sun’s rising, it wouldn’t be much time before I would’ve woken you up anyway.” Marcille appreciated the concern but was even more appreciative to the fountain of energy that blessed her body, despite the early waking hours she had set for herself.

Today was the big day. She was going to pay her dues to the king, and then they’d finally be... on equal footing, right. The rest could wait. She jumped out of bed, stretched out, made a face to the taunting ghost in the mirror and turned to Izutsumi again, declaring:

“Tsumi, we need to cook!”

Chapter 8: Traditional Cuisine: The Sequel

Chapter Text

-*-

“I thought the whole point of this was that you’d be doing the cooking.” Izutsumi groaned, making every ‘I’m too tired for this sh*t’ pose one could imagine in the most overexaggerated way possible so that Marcille could catch on even as she bounced from plate to plate making sure everything was alright.

“Shush, I’ll get to you once this is all done.” Marcille scolded while dual wielding both the notes Falin had taken from Laios and her own. “Okay, these are all nice and boiled. Time to rinse and refill...”

Izutsumi’s inner cat must have won over because soon enough her head was poking from the just above the corner of the counter.

“This looks like it’s going to be a mess.” she said without a hint of remorse. At least this past month had hardened Marcille against the beast-woman’s particular brand of talking.

“This is why I didn’t bring you in to judge my last dish.” she quickly rebutted, even if inwardly she knew that there was a rather small chance for this NOT to turn out a mess. There were so many ingredients to this, and most of them she had added herself, even if they were just different kinds of meat. It wasn’t too late to simplify it, could just give Senshi the rest of the meat to use on other foods…

But she was nothing if not stubborn.

She measured the amount of water, and it was just right, about an inch over the rest of the meat. With that done, she covered the pot and snapped her fingers to create just the right amount of temperature under it to boil it correctly. Was she abusing her condition? Yes. Was that a new thing? No. Would she do it again? Probably.

“Alright Tsumi, here’s where you come in!” she turned to her guardian and patted her head. “You’re going to sit here and make sure the water stays at this level while I go and play court mage with Laios.”

“... for how long?” Izutsumi knew that grin. Marcille was about to ask her something really stupid.

“About... I dunno, five hours? I left notes on your back pocket! I’d appreciate it if you come get me half an hour prior though! Ciao!” Marcille bolted out the guildhall, knowing, well, hoping, Izutsumi wouldn’t have the heart to deny her.

-*-

Marcille’s morning meetings as the court mage had passed very slowly, but mostly without incident. Condensing them as much as possible to give her time for her own preparations was rough. Really the only thing that was strange was how skittish Laios was around her. He always stumbled on his words when he had to follow-up on her and never spared her a glance. Problems for another day, at least it kept his mind busy.

True to her word, Izutsumi escorted Marcille back to the guild hall while Yaad dragged Laios into an impromptu history lesson on her request.

Once she was back at the guild, preparations were winding back up. All the backbone of the operation had been done the day before, but bringing fresh plants for decoration, along with adding last minute deliveries, like the flag, took the bulk of the work outside the kitchen, while he kitchen itself was abuzz. No longer was she the only one preparing food like she was in the early morning.

“Thanks Izu, it’s going perfectly,” she told her honorary sous-chef once after tasting the broth. She added a Killer Carrot (very dead), some Tear Slurping Onions (mostly dead), a Mandragora stick (extremely dead) along with some peppercorns and plain old salt and slowed down the heat. Izutsumi recoiled once she put the lid back on. “Don’t worry, I’m staying around to help with the preparations outside!”

“Good. I’m going to scout the surroundings then. I’ll see you once this starts going.” Izutsumi coldly stated, Marcille nodding with understanding. This was the last day this had to stay under wraps, Izutsumi could take the rest of the afternoon off.

After Tsumi left, Mar cracked her neck. She had an hour to kill. Turning her hourglass, the cook walked outside to see if anyone needed help.

Not a small amount seemed to need it, but the one who caught her eye was the child-sized terror trembling behind a crate in the corner. Uncharacteristically for him, he didn’t even hear her sneak up on him.

“Boo!” Marcille yelled, grabbing both of Chilchuck’s ears from behind. With how high he jumped and shouted; he nearly ripped them off. He turned back to her, terrified, quickly returning to a slightly less terrified mess. “What’s gotten you so jumpy Chilly?!” she was enjoying this a bit too much.

“She is in Melini Marcille.” his tone was so earnest too.

“Oh. Oh.” Yeah, this seemed like the appropriate state for him to be in. “Why?”

“I don’t know! I just saw her and Fler walking about town when I was walking here! My own daughter is trying to set me up!” that was hardly the only reason that there could be here, but Marcille knew all about paranoia taking over in moments like this.

“Have you considered she’s here to give you a-”

“Don’t. I don’t need a peptalk!” Chilchuck yelled, unaware of how much that screamed the opposite. Marcille sighed, knowing that she was going to have to give him something more solid to calm him down.

“Tell me her name.” she hoped she wasn’t biting off more than she could chew, but she couldn’t stand seeing any of her close friends distraught like this. Also, she may or may not have always wanted to play matchmaker.

“Merrylily...” a smile broke through the half-foot's panic as he uttered it. Now Marcille was motivated.

“I’ll back you up. Grab me if she comes to the party. If not, we’ll find her tomorrow, alright?” she rubbed his back and he nodded, shouting into his hand, and slamming his fist onto the ground.

“Inauspicious spirits begone. Tonight’s my night!” Marcille clapped along at Chilchuck’s little demonstration, but added:

“No Chilly, it’s our night!” the two partners in crime shook hands and both went to fulfil their jobs until it was time.

-*-

An hour having passed, Marcille went back to the kitchen. Everything seemed to be going fine. And so, she started preparing the final steps.

First, she filtered the broth into its own container, leaving the carrot and meats on the side to cool, using a small wind spell to expedite the process. The rest could be saved for other dishes or maybe even for the plating.

Then she turned to the broth, peeling Belmont Garlic and pressing a handful of clovers into it. She tasted it and the salt seemed to be in the correct amount. It was just a matter of the taste congealing now.

Once that was done, it was time to separate the meat from the bones and shaping the carrots for what she had in mind.

All but two steps remained. Pouring everything into an appropriately large bowl, she weaved another temperature altering spell. This dish could take a day to congeal, and she didn’t have that kind of time, but she had mathed out the temperature to have it be done in two to three hours. Which, given that the bell had just finished tolling for the sixth time, would give her just enough time.

She threw the dish into a closet and considered going to help Izutsumi with recon. It was Falin’s job to trick Laios into following after all.

“Lady Marcille!” called a familiar voice from the edge of the kitchen. Marcille rolled her eyes. Both at Pattadol still feeling the need to add honorifics and the fact that call all but signalled something had gone wrong. “Lady Falin! She’s late. Fionil and her are held up preparing Falin’s own gift!”

“She is a Touden after all...” Marcille sighed. When the chips were down, they were the most reliable people. When they weren’t... well. This. “I’ll go. Pattadol, make sure my spell doesn’t go awry. Dispel if it does, but don’t try to copy it, it’s very specific!”

“You are going to be keeping it going from such a distance? How much did you practice?!” she gasped. Marcille understood why. This would be a crazy feat if she weren’t cheating.

“Gotta keep up those studies Patty!” she meekly lied, bolting before any further questions could be asked.

-*-

She found him trying to sneak food off the pantry. Figures. He hid the chorizo behind his back like a little kid and whistled. She didn’t have time to explain, she had taken too long to find him. She just grabbed his free hand and started pulling.

He put up no resistance, fumbling every time he tried to form a coherent sentence. Marcille was too focused on maintaining her spell to clock what she had just done. So, they ran in silence, passing more than a couple baffled servants.

Once they were out of the castle, she had enough mental leeway to speak.

“You have an appointment Laios. It’s going to be something new, so keep your mind open.” she stated between gritted teeth, the strain of splitting her mind three-way getting to her.

“Will you be there with me?”

“Always.” naturally, of course.

She could practically hear his smile when he said: “No worries here then!”

Once they arrived at the guildhall, she threw the doors wide open, a torrent of Marigold flower petals showering Laios as she pushed him in. As agreed on, a flag was unfurled from the second floor, every adventurer that had already made it, every servant that had snuck out and of course, Marcille and a newly returned Falin, all chanting what was on it, for the first time in Laios’ life:

“Happy Birthday, Laios!”

He was in shock. Good, Marcille thought. Falin and Senshi approached him first to further congratulate him, and he was already starting to hold back tears. Then, the rest started approaching. As much as Marcille wanted to stay by him... when the sea of adventurers came for them, Marcille mercilessly threw the man she had tricked into coming into the heart of the storm and sneaked off. She had a couple matters to attend to before dinner.

-*-

First, she checked on the kitchen, Pattadol and her own examination of the spell spelled the same conclusion, it would be ready on time. She thanked her for her help and headed out into the party to find her final target before dinner.

Chilchuck was not hard to find, hiding in a still rather empty second floor, looking down on the first floor’s hub-hub around Laios. Marcille poked him with her staff and asked a wordless question. Chilchuck pointed at Flertom, who was joined by a very similar half-foot. Her hair was less wavy and her dress a lot less ostentatious. She was also not eyeing Laios like food. That had to be her.

“Okay Chilchuck. I’m going to scout what she’s here to do. Just act natural after I start talking. I’ll meet you afterwards.” she told the woman’s still-husband. Chilchuck nodded and wished her good luck.

Marcille waited for Flertom to make yet another move on Laios. She needed Merrylily alone. It didn’t take too long before the half-elf pounced. As soon as Fler vanished into the crowd, she shot her pre-programed excuse: “Oh, hey Fler. Nice of you to come!” Marcille did her best to sound natural and naive. They did look very similar, so it shouldn’t be too hard to believe?

There was nothing “merry” about the glare Merrylily gave her. That woman looked just so tired. With everything. But, right now, especially Marcille.

“I suppose I should see that as a compliment, to be confused as being nearly half my age, but I’m sure this is just you long-lived races not being able to tell us apart.” she sounded on edge too. Not angry, just... stressed. At least that was exactly how Chilchuck sounded when he was stressed.

This could be a good thing.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. You look just like my companion’s daughter! Wait... might you be. The famous Merrylily!” first shot in Chilchuck’s favour, make sure she understands he talks about her (when forced to).

“Oh. Companion? Blonde hair... are you the mistress?” she seemed suspicious the moment she saw Marcille. Marcille cursed Flertom, of all things to tell her mother!

“Me? No! I’m a former member of his party. My name is Marcille. I serve as Laios’ court wizard.” Marcille continued her act, raising her hand in Merrylily’s direction.

“Court wizard. Laios?” she eyed her, then Laios, then seemed to try to recall something. “Very sorry. I’ve heard about you. You’re the nerdy brat he tells my daughters he has to babysit.”

Marcille nearly called it off right there. She would still have words with him!

“Well... that sure does sound like Chil!” she swallowed her pride and kept going. “Say, are you perhaps here to see him?”

“Me? See the man who has been ignoring me for the last five years?!” she exclaimed, a nerve cleary being touched.

Oh, what has he done?!

“I’m sorry? It took a while for him to tell us his family life, but he never gave me the idea that he was ignoring any of you.”

“He treats my daughters fine. I have to give him that much. He must make some very good money because they never lack for cash. Especially Flertom. Comes with all the letters he sends them.” she sighed. Marcille knew what that meant.

“No... So that letter he never managed to write...” she wanted to punch him. Yet she pitied him. She... it took her weeks to finish the letter to her mother. But five years? That was way too much.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re lying. But I can tell you’re being genuine.” the half-foot said, expression still unreadable. “I guess he still doesn’t care enough to open up.” She headed to a nearby table and grabbed one of the pre-filled mugs of mead. Given the headache Marcille was having on account of her husband, it was warranted.

“I don’t think that’s it Mrs. Merrylily. He clearly cares about all of you. You said you think he makes a lot of money, but he was starving himself every month. I thought his pay must’ve been terrible, but he was clearly prioritizing all of you over himself.” she didn’t know if this was helpful, but this woman deserved the truth.

“That’s the problem! How do you think that feels? Knowing the person you love... or loved, the most in the world is killing themselves for you and they don’t have the decency to just... tell me?!” the half-foots’ screams felt very poignant, and not just to Chilchuck’s case. The half-elf kept her mind on the target though. She had said love first. She took note of that.

“We went through the same in our party. It certainly wasn’t as bad. But it’s clearly ingrained in him.” Marcille began, moving next to Merrylily and taking a mug for herself. She only tipped her lips in. “But that changed. Little by little, he told us more. It was hard for us. And I can tell it was hard for him. But he can change.”

“For you maybe. I waited half my life for him to become a good man...”

"If there's anything I can tell you about Chilchuck is that he is a good man. He's reliable, down to earth, he saved us more times than I can count. Us, and probably the world, would not be here if not for him right now." the married woman and the hopeless one shared a glance. For the first time, she saw some hope in those, so very tired, black eyes. “That may not mean you two are right for each other. But I hope you are. For his and your sake's.”

"I don't know if you're a great tale weaver Miss, or if I am just desperate enough to believe them." Merrylily’s smile quickly hid itself behind her pragmatism once more. “But I just know, that if the Chilchuck I’ve been married comes to me again, I won’t have the strength to keep hoping.” she took another swig and Marcille carefully nodded before excusing herself. This wasn’t in her hands anymore.

She headed straight to Chilchuck once more, pulled him away from his small talk with his daughters and cornered him on the far end of the room.

"Chilchuck, listen to me carefully. You made so many mistakes I don't dare count. But she's still here. She thinks she knows better than to. But there she is." she told him, seeing the terror in his eyes. A terror that was not unfamiliar to her. She pointed the way towards the lonely half-foot, sipping on mead while the of the party began picking pace. "Please. Go to her. And just talk. Do not speak to her. Talk with her. This has to be a two-way street. You've spent enough time hiding. The moment she walks out that door she's walking out of your life, unless you do something about it. There are no guarantees anything you say will work. Maybe you aren't meant to be. But don’t keep doing this to yourself. You have a chance. Reach for it."

"That's a lot of weight behind those words for someone who’s never been in a relationship." his eyes betrayed fear and surprise. "How..."

“Because I know a thing or two about screwing up and being afraid to speak out”. she grabbed both of his shoulders and looked the half-foot straight in the eyes. "Now, go get her tiger!"

She pushed him in her direction. For a moment, Chilchuck hesitated, but one look at his daughters was all that it seemed to take. With a heavy heart, he reached for her.

Marcille looked at her reflection in the window, thankfully free from her shadow.

I should listen to my own advice.

-*-

It was done. She looked over her creation, beaming with pride. Her magic had given it a shape no other cook could achieve. Her effort was clearly on display, now it was only a matter of hoping the taste matched the work put in. She turned to go check on the state of the dinner service, but was met, no, ambushed by three people of different races and a fairy. Two of them awkwardly chuckling while the shortest one had a gleefully seedy smile. She wondered what would have made Chilchuck, Yaad and Pattadol team up. Well, until Yaad produced a dress from behind his back.

“What part of “this party is a casual affair” did I not make clear?” Marcille growled, for now the irritation at her instructions being ignored overriding the panic.

“I’m sorry Lady Marcille, but Lady Falin was very particular on having me... convince you to wear the dress you wore inside our frozen kingdom.” Yaad mumbled; it was clear that he was as reticent as she would be. But never mind that. Falin had betrayed her. Again!

Falin did we raise you wrong?! She blamed everyone. Falin’s parents, that fool of a brother and even herself. She knew Falin since she was ten years old, she should have set a better example!

“Lady Pattadol will help you into the dress...” Yaad said in defeat, passing the clothes and jewellery to her.

“Wait, don’t I get a say in this?!” Marcille yelped as the former Canary stalked her.

“I’m so very sorry Lady Marcille, but Lady Falin outranks you...” the worst part of Pattadol’s apology is that while it sounded sincere, her eyes betrayed no hesitation. Marcille would not leave the kitchen in her current attire.

“For now, at least!” her fairy joked, face having changed to one of obsidian complexion. Marcille suddenly wanted to strangle the damn thing, materials used in it be damned.

“Doesn’t the queen of all elves have better things to do than spy on a would-be-prisoner-of-war?!” screeched said criminal as she was dragged into an empty storage room. The fairy gleefully buzzed around her, relaying the information across the continent.

“It's a day of great importance for your country. What allies would we be if our head of state did not attend?" the trademark elven haughtiness combined with eccentricity of old age. An infuriating combination for someone who much preferred her tall-man side.

“I don’t remember ever officialising that and if I have anything to say about it we-” the door slammed shut, separating the angered party from the giggling one.

Once it opened again, it was just to trade Pattadol for Chilchuck. The latter walking into a room with a very fake guilty expression and a simple:

“I really appreciate what you did Marcille, but my hands are tied. I got roped into this a month ago.” he cackled as he approached her poor, poor hair. For just how long had Falin planned this? The door closed and Marcille had some time to try and stop this madness.

“Chilchuck, you have to help me out of these and out of the kitchen.” she begged, dodging the half-foot’s attempts to get to her hair. Once he realized he wasn’t getting to do his job if Marcille didn’t let him, he just glared at her, which she took for waiting for a reason to play her game. “I don’t want to give my best... second best?” had she just wavered? “I just don’t want to make things weird with my friend.”

Something snapped on the half-foot. Not anger, just pure frustration.

“Yes, both parties here are clearly just regular friends. One learned an entire craft just to give the other a nice birthday surprise. Said other party shook of an apex predator’s mind attack because it attempted to imitate the first party’s smile, immediately snapping him out because, and I quote: “You have to earn Marcille’s smile.”” Chilchuck gaze became narrower and narrower through the narration, out squinting even Falin at the last line. “You know, normal friend stuff.”

Marcille hadn’t even heard the last line. Her mind had just blanked at that quote. It was... it was correct yes. But to be worded like that. Questions started to be asked. No, they had started to be asked a while ago, they were just becoming too loud to ignore.

“Sorry. It’s just... man. I’m on edge too. Lily’s not making it simple.” Chilchuck put his hand on her back, the half-foot equivalent of putting a hand on one’s shoulder. “If it helps, you can just pin the blame on his sister. It wouldn’t be lying.”

That did not help at all. Okay. Maybe a bit. Falin did deserve some payback.

Marcille shook her head and sat back on the stool, giving tacit permission for Chilchuck to go to work.

Once the door to the storage room opened for the final time, the deed was done.

The court mage of Melini had once again donned a long flowing ballgown, one which began as nearly as black the night sky on her chest while descending into a bright and pure white by the time it reached her feet, all of it, even its long, flowing sleeves, adorned with the Melini national flower for patterns. Yaad had even kept her scarab themed gold necklace and bracelets, while Chilchuck’s photographic memory had let him braid her hair in the exact same way as she had done back then, with one long, ponytail-like braid dropped over her shoulder and another adorning the top of her head, both decorated with a white flower, and finally, just a tinge of red lipstick on her lower lip.

Yaad held up a mirror to Marcille. She hated that she loved it so much. It was so nostalgic, and she felt like one of those princesses from her novels. This would make her stand out. There were no ifs and buts about it. This wasn’t about being co*cky or humble, it was just a fact. Even Laios would be unable to ignore it.

She still wasn’t too sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

-*-

By the time she left the kitchen, everyone seemed to have picked and chosen their tables already. Well, minus Laios, she had made sure Izutsumi made him know he did not have a choice in the matter. It was just going to be the three of them at the table. Her, Laios and Falin. While she had extended an invitation to Tsumi herself, she actually had agreed on sitting with Chil’s daughters and far be it from Marcille to stand in the way of that hermit getting actual friends.

She saw Laios tapping nervously on the table, Tsumi probably had been less than charitable in suggesting it, Falin was there too, at first eyeing up her brother before immediately locking in on her when Marcille was in sight. Marcille took that squinting as her way to say “please, don’t screw this up”.

She partially regretted not taking some liquid courage, but finally made her move. She carefully laid the tray in front of a now, very curious, King. Just as she did, she heard a handful of spoons clanking against wine glasses, and suddenly, all of the eyes in the room were on them.

This was not part of the plan. Who... she looked around and caught Namari shooting her a very, very proud smirk. Marcille would remember this betrayal.

However, as she had done so many times before, in for a penny...

“Laios.” she started, adjusting her dress nervously. He had noticed the change. And seemed rather more interested in her new look than he ever was in the tray. This would not do. “I told you few times already that my favourite dish in the dungeon was the one you all made to imitate my home cooking. But I never told you how important that was to me. I think... I think tasting something from my past was the thread that began to unspin the yarn the demon trapped me in. You gave me back a piece of a time I had thought lost, and in doing so, saved me.”

She had thought she’d be mortified through this entire speech. Even with only Laios’ eyes on her, let alone an entire hall. But instead, she just felt relieved. Like she should have told him a long time ago. The moment felt just... right. It invigorated her.

“So! In light of that and this special day, I, Marcille Donato, most talented student of the Arcane in history have put my talents into something equally important. With a little help from your sister, I hope to return the favour and give you back a piece of your own warmest memories!” she dramatically pulled away the massive lid and revealed the efforts of her months-long labour. With a flourish of Ambrosia, the name of the dish, along with a couple fireworks, erupted on the ceiling.

Traditional Northern Cuisine:

Ultimate Strongest Monster Kholodets

Laios’ jaw hit the table, just as Marcille had hoped. This was a dish that would likely be impossible without the use of magic, at least the looks, so she was banking a lot on the presentation.

It was, in fact, a huge, as close to perfect as possible, representation of Laios’ former body. It was large enough to occupy the greater part of half the table. Still, size was not even the half of it.

“A little bird told me that you always loved to guess which animals went into the aspics you ate for the new year’s feast, and that you swore, on your final year home, that you’d make one out of monster meat. Well, I’ve taken the liberty to give you a head start!” she exclaimed, but the adrenaline of showing it was starting to wear off and with it, the sheer embarrassment of performing this in front of a giant audience was starting to weigh on her.

“The meat inside the aspics... it’s all unique, isn’t it?!” Laios’ giddy excitement snapped her back to reality. This was his time, she had to make it perfect.

“Great catch Laios. The jelly’s there to maintain the form, but the real prize is in the meat that I’ve laced into each body part of the creature. I did my best to match the monsters we had access to as close to the monster’s design as I could!” This was, admittedly, the biggest risk she had taken, and the time she had gone off-script. The sheer amount of different meats on this dish was staggering, and who knows what that made to the broth that had been made into jelly. She hoped this was not all flash and no substance. “If you want, I can enumerate what was made into what...”

“No!” Laios exclaimed, a wide, almost maniacal grin adorning his features. “I want to try and guess.” She should have known.

“Well, if you ever have any doubts, I’ll be here to clear them up.” Marcille told him with a smile. Before she sat back down though, she saw a distinct, black paw reach for Laios’ dish from underneath the table. Swiftly she bludgeoned it with her staff, a cat’s hiss defying her. “Back to your table Tsumi! I made something this large because Laios’ cursed to be very hard to satiate and I want him to feel that way for once!”

Oh no, she had just shouted that, hadn’t she? She looked around got confirmation, with all the giggling and gossiping going in her direction. Smoke practically steamed out of her ears as her entire complexion turned so crimson even her lipstick lost its shine by comparison.

“Marcille. This is not right.” something about the situation had snapped Laios back to his rare, but always badly timed, kingly posture. “You cooked this. I would be nothing more than a thief if I didn’t let you share it with me.”

“W-What are you talking about?! I made this as your birthday gift!” not only did her skin match the colour of fire, but now it also felt on fire, a meek effort from her ears wafting air into doing nothing but make her state of mind even more obvious.

“The cook should always be allowed to partake in their creations. It’d be wrong to force you, but it’d make me very happy to have you taste the efforts of your hard work!” the longer that sentence went by, the less authoritative and more skittish the king became, having to force himself to exclaim that last bit. “It’s how we did it in the dungeon, remember?” The hall was ablaze with commentary.

“Well, if you don’t want to force me, then I won’t! I’m not even hun-” her stomach disagreed loudly. The only silver lining was that there was enough noise in the hall that only the ones at the table heard it.

“You forgot about lunch you dolt,” Izutsumi told her, likely knowing that doing so all but sealed Marcille’s fate. Laios would never touch his food if she didn’t join him now.

“Alright, fine! You’re too kind for your own good!” she grumbled, taking her own knife to the wolf’s head.

“There’s no such thing! Especially to one of the two most important people in my life!” Laios mocked, taking up his knife once more. Marcille had issues with how he worded it, but right now wasn’t the time. “On the count of three, we fell the monster.” the king joked, his knife on the rhinoceros one. She’d gladly play along. Just for today.

“And a one. And a two. And a three!”

Two public decapitations followed.

The crowd cheered. Marcille couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but this cheer felt like they were cheering another kind of paired cutting of food.

Oh well, surely, she was being paranoid.

Mercifully, the crowd turned to their own food once Senshi and the rest of his apprentices started piling in, leaving Marcille and the Toudens to their devices. Falin seemed more than content to watch, annoyingly so, so really it was just her and Laios.

Heeding Laios’ words, she cut a bit into the bird’s head and slipped it into a plate for Izutsumi. She had helped a lot after all. Not so much in the cooking, but still. It was nice seeing her giddily scurry back to her table.

After that, it was time to bite the, well, jelly. Laios and her nodded and gave it a go. The texture was just right, but she expected as much. The taste though. Was interesting. It definitely did not feel like anything she had ever tasted. It was just so many tastes mushed together. But once she reached the meat, the broth’s mixtures seemed to fade away and enhance the specific meat they were tasting. It was... a resounding success!

Her cheeks flushed like they did so many times back in the dungeon and she found herself naturally digging in without a second thought. They had a lot to go through after all. She wanted a bit of everything, Laios could actually finish the dish. But that was still a huge task given the amount of animals Laios had shoved into the Ultimate Strongest Monster. She had to taste all three head, which used Dire Wolf, Amber Rhinoceros and Hippogriff meat, along with Killer Carrot to mimic the eyes and some celery to mimic the horse mane, but that wasn’t all. Sabretooth Tiger for a leg, pig for another, horse on the last since hippogriff was repeated in one of the legs, along with a basilisk’s tail and a lion’s to finish it. That wasn’t even talking about the body, which was...

“Marcille, the torso’s amazing. You have to try it!” Laios happily hummed, catching her attention just long enough for his fork to find it’s way inside her mouth. It wasn’t just her cheeks flushing this time. Her embarrassment was only supplanted by her contentment that Laios loved the Minotaur meat so much. She had to earn that one herself after all.

Before she knew it, she was recounting the story of how she and Falin had procured that meat, to an ever more interested king. They shared their dinner like this, Laios guessing the meats and giving some trivia, while Marcille narrated how she, or Senshi, had managed to do it, and the process to make the food. It really wasn’t normal behaviour for a King and his Court Mage, but today, they weren’t that. Today, Laios was not a king to her. If he ever was. If there was anyone staring at them, getting ideas, Marcille didn’t know, or care. Tonight was his night.

Once this is done though, we should probably change how we act around eachother.

Probably.

Maybe.

-*-

As soon as they were done with their meal, Laios had been immediately whisked away to be showered with gifts. Marcille hoped Falin’s instructions on what a good gift would entail had been heard, but for now, she just needed a break from it all.

She went on to catch up with old acquaintances, like Rin and the rest of Kabru’s former party, who seemed to all have decided to stick around, though many wanted to revert to their original professions now that the dungeon was gone.

Fionil and Doni were, well, being Fionil and Doni. At least they were actually a thing now. Doni asked Marcille if Laios had any plan to have a royal guard, and while he didn’t, this wasn’t such a bad idea. Plus, having a half-elf friend like Fionil could be great in the long term. Speaking of her, she seemed especially taken by the atmosphere, she wouldn’t even say a word.

Then came the worst part. When some free-spirited minds inaugurated the second floor with a dance, it all but became a ballroom. And with that came the many, many, strangely desperate, requests for Marcille to grant them a dance.

After like, the fifth, she slid into the back of the room and ascended to the mostly empty third floor. They hadn’t had the time to prepare it for a party, so it seemed to only be populated by people too tired to hang with the kiddos like Mr and Mrs Tansu.

Well, most were at least. At the edge of the room, past the windowed doors, there was someone gazing down to the town. His town.

“You wouldn’t know, but it’s rude for the birthday boy to abandon his own celebration!” Marcille playfully chided after closing the doors behind the two.

“Sorry. I’m not too good with crowds. Too much noise.” Laios sounded genuinely exhausted, a pang of guilt pulsating on Marcille’s chest.

“Sorry I should’ve-”

“No, this is great Marcille. It feels... one of a kind. It’s just tiring, is all.” he told her, signalling her to come stand next to him, leaning on the railing.

“I guess there’s plenty of good things that tire you out.” she half-heartedly commented, missing her own inuendo. Thankfully it was mutual. “I’m sorry if my gift didn’t match up to the rest. I mean, it’s gone now. Should have probably made something more long-lasting.”

“What do you mean Marcille? It’s not gone, it’s a part of me. Of us really. And it will be for a long time!” Laios cheerfully retorted, purely academically, this was correct. Marcille couldn’t help but want to jump off though. “Besides, it’s not about how long something lasts. It’s what it leaves you with.”

Marcille really disagreed with that statement, but she didn’t feel like pushing back. Not right now. For some time, they just watched the lights of Melini flicker and dance. Laios seemed strangely downcast, even despite all the festivities and how happy he looked just moments ago. Marcille was going to inquire, but he was faster.

“You know, I had forgotten just how amazing that dress looks on you.” he told her after a few moments of gathering up courage. He remembered. Of course he remembered.

“I-I’m glad you think so.” Marcille nearly whispered. It was a meek response, but it was all that she could muster. Things were starting to become awkward again! The subject needed to change.

“Anyway, what’s wrong?” Marcille asked, leaning against the edge of the balcony right next to her king. Laios eyed her with a question in his eyes, one that Marcille knew all too well. “You’re not hard to read Laios.”

“Really? Normally I get the exact opposite,” just like that, in what Marcille had considered a passing comment, life had returned to the man’ eyes. Thinking back, she understood what he meant. When she first joined the party, it seemed like she was the only one to grasp what he meant at times. Well, besides Falin. That was probably why, wasn’t it? She had known Falin for close to a decade before they separated after the Academy, that was probably a good training arc for this guy. And even then, it had been hard at times.

“Well, to me you aren’t,” she gave him a reassuring smile, the tip of her ears gaining just a tinge of colour when she remembered what Chilchuck said about how he saw her smiles.

“I’m glad... really.” Laios mummed, turning back to look at the night’s sky. He took a deep breath and let it out. “Would you still have stayed?”

“Pardon?”

“If I didn’t have to save you from the Canaries and jail. Would you have stayed in Melini still?”

“Ah. So Falin told you already.” Marcille stated, relieved to see that she was not the only one to be putting on a brave face in front of Falin for her sake. So, she gave the question some serious thought. What would she have done? “Well… I would probably have gone back to my hometown for a spell. Catch up with Mamma, sleep in my old bed. I do miss it.” she saw his face start to droop, still, she was grateful he wasn’t trying to put a brave face in front of her too.

“Must be nice, to have good memories of your hometown.” he commented, a rare tinge of envy in his voice. “If I had a place like that too then maybe I’d also have abandoned this place...”

“You didn’t let me finish!” Marcille scolded, lightly kicking him in the shin, causing him to gulp and nod. She knew he didn’t mean that last part, so she didn’t give him any flack. “Then, after making sure Mamma was in good hands, I’d sell my house and move back to Melini. I think… I think I’m ready for that step. To call Melini my home. Even if it isn’t really my choice any longer, it doesn’t really matter.” Laios’ mouth hung open, a mix of enthusiasm and confusion in his eyes.

“Why here, of all places? A struggling country with an uneducated king, home to your trauma? Chil’s probably going back to his family. Senshi’s going adventuring once all the capital and villages are secure. Even Falin is leaving...” Marcille was going to have a word with Falin. What was she thinking, telling Laios this so close to his birthday? No, this wouldn’t do, this day had to be special for him. If that meant she had to swallow her embarrassment, so be it.

“Laios, you don’t choose where your home is. Your heart does. And this is where my heart is. With all of you!” Laios just stared at her, eyes and mouth agape, seemingly still trying to process it all. Marcille, for her part, found herself slowly realizing that there were a pair of words that she wished she could say. But until she understood what they meant, she couldn’t.

With you…

So, instead, she did the next best thing. She took her right hand and laid it over Laios’ left, gently rubbing her palm onto its back. Falin needed physical contact in times like this, meaning so did Laios. She half-expected him to cry, that’s what happened with Falin when it came to this. Instead, a tiny curve in his lips became a small smirk and grew into a full, serene smile, never taking his eyes off her. Something seemed different about him now. Something about that look.

“What’s with that contented smile?” she asked, just to break the silence. Maintaining eye contact with him was becoming impossible. She only did so for his sake. Gods know why.

“I think… I think I just figured out the answer to something that’s been grinding at me for the last couple months.” she breathed a sigh of relief as he broke the lock by himself, turning to watch over his capital with a renewed warmth. Still, it awoke something far worse in her. Her curiosity.

“And what would that be an answer to?” she interjected, poking her head in his field of view. She had to know if she hadn’t put some strange notion on his mind!

“Don’t worry, I won’t keep it a secret for long." it wasn’t like Laios to be cryptic. Now she was getting a bit scared. He must have sensed it, as something triggered laughter in the young king. “It’s so strange, going so long without arguing. It kind of freaks me out.” Marcille gave him a mischievous look. If this was his wish...

“Oh, you want to argue, do you?! How about you telling me something like “Oh you're one of the two most important people in my life” in public?! This is the second time you say something of that level, and we had an audience now! For someone so worried about the future you clearly don't understand how easily rumours can spread in the present.” she wasn’t angry at him, not really. But she had been mortified at all the glances she had gotten since dinner, and she needed to vent to someone.

“You're the one shouting it. But I'm sure you're surprised you rank above Izutsumi when there's not a single monster bone in your body.” he stated, no, had he just teased her? Laios?! Of all people?!

“I see you have your zest back. Maybe a bit too much.” she tried to pull her hand away from his as punishment, but his face made her feel like she was about to kick a puppy, so there it stayed. The music, the crowd and all the clamour of the party were shrouded in a distant haze, leaving only the king and his court magician under the stars and the moon.

Marcille had suddenly became all-to-aware of how common a scenario like this was in her novels, and while she forced herself to not act upon her instinct to pull back immediately, she was now unable to even look in Laios’ general direction. The only thing she could do was try to focus on her ever-quickening pulse, which was not helping matters.

Wait, wait, wait... no way. Don’t get yourself twisted Marcille. It’s perfectly normal to be embarrassed in a situation like this, isn’t it? It’s perfectly normal to... she remembered her hand was still on Laios’, an unfortunate consequence of looking being locking eyes with the owner of said other hand. She saw his cheeks flush just a bit in tandem with hers, with every extra tinge of red causing the other to blush even harder, up to the point where they had to break eye contact again.

There’s nothing normal about this. she admitted. The atmosphere was all too new to her. Her ears were burning. Her heart was nearly bursting. The silence was killing her. But if she started talking, she had no idea what would come out of her mouth. Was this a dream or a nightmare?

“Still, it’s hard, isn’t it?” oh it absolutely was. Wait a minute, what was Laios talking about? She shook her head and said screw it, she was just thankful he had broken the silence. She would’ve run out of the balcony the moment she had regained control of her legs otherwise. “To see Falin all grown up. Trying to fly off the nest.”

“Yeah. You’re right. I still... haven’t really come to terms with it.” Marcille closed her eyes and was transported back to that day at the academy where that ditzy kid opened her eyes to the world outside of books and classrooms. She was so adorable. So needy. So warm. “It feels like yesterday where she was just a ten-year-old ball of happiness. She still felt like a little girl to me when we rescued her from that dragon.”

“When you put it like that... Marcille, you sound like her mother.” it was like an arrow had carved itself directly into her breast. This guy. This f*cking guy!

“How dare you?! I am not nearly old enough to be her mother! Nor did I ever act like it! She was like a little sister to me!” she screamed, finally pulling back her right hand, clenching it into a fist and slamming it directly on his forearm.

She got the worst of it. He barely even flinched while she had to cradle her crying fist. In fact, he even seemed to be doing math in his head.

“But you are though? You’re fif-”

“Shut up.” and yet again, the mood had suddenly shifted. All that superficial anger washed away, and the smirk vanished from Laios’ face. “I... I really would rather not bring up my age Laios.”

“Come on Marcille, I know you mature at a different rate, I was just...” he seemed to understand. Everything that came with that. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s... it’s alright. I’m the one here that’s wrong. This body is what’s wrong. And this mind that can’t seem to come to grips with it.” she was about to start hating herself for bringing down the mood in his big day. She was going to hate herself for making this about her.

Then something softly griped her shoulder and brought her into a warm port.

“Nothing about you is wrong.” Laios did not word it as an opinion. It was a statement. A statement full of understanding and kindness. Something that could only have come from someone who had seen her at her worst and still held her close.

She wanted to contest it. Push herself away from his chest. Scream about how she would outlive him. Shout about how she had done plenty of wrong. Tell him that she couldn’t even perform the most basic function as a living being. Instead, something far more personal left her lips.

“I... I don’t want to be left behind...” she gave up, letting herself be cradled by the only person in the world that she felt at peace disclosing this to. She could not bear to be an anchor to Falin. Yet, the time she had with her was already going to be merely a drop in the ocean that was her cursed existence, and even that was about to be cut short. The push and pull of wanting Falin’s happiness and her own selfish desire to keep her loved ones close was tearing her apart.

“Focus on the now Marcille. We’re all here for you. We’ll find a way to make this work.” such an idiotic statement. This world was cruel to her kind. Marcille had let go of her chance at changing it when she rejected the lion. Then, why did she trust him? Why did she feel so safe?

Why was it so hard to tell him to let go?

“Thank you Laios. I needed to hear that.” she softly pushed away her tears and looked up to the taller man, giving him another smile that he had earned.

“Then, what do you say we get back to the party? There’s a lot we haven’t tasted yet!” there it was again. At the sight of his grin, her heartbeat pulsed back into a frenzy.

“Go ahead without me. I need a moment to collect myself. Can’t have everyone worrying for me if I show up all flushed and teary eyed.” Marcille lied through her teeth. She absolutely needed a moment, but the others were the furthest reason why. Laios’ concerned look definitely was a part of why though. “Don’t give me that look, I’ll be there in a minute. Otherwise, you have my permission to drag me back in.”

“I’ll take you up on that.” the tall-man king told her as they broke away from each other. Something seemed to have changed in him as he covered his mouth with his left hand and practically ran away from her, nearly knocking down the doorway in his rush. That sure was Laios.

Marcille for her part leaned back into the balcony and asked the stars:

"Do I still deserve someone like him?”

-*-

Oh boy, oh man, I absolutely, positively, completely, stepped out of line!

Laios collapsed against a wall the moment he was out of view from the balcony. He could not for the life of him understand where that burst of courage had come from. He really had just pulled Marcille in... he suddenly realized the culprit of those actions was currently covering his mouth. He got his left hand as far away from the rest of his body as humanly possible, but it was no use, he could not get his eye of it.

He could still remember Marcille’s hand on the back. He could still feel her shoulder on his palm. He could still smell Marcille’s scent. He still itched from Marcille’s ear rubbing into his chest. He could still hear their conversation playing back over and over again on his head. If he closed his eyes, he knew he’d still see her.

I need... I need to talk with someone. It was just too much for him to process. Well, all but one thing. It was undeniable now.

I love Marcille.

He bit into his hand and slid down the wall, his entire body failing him. What do I do? What do I... Falin! What perfect timing she always had. Just as her brother was about to panic, she emerged from the crowd, wearing the exact same smile she had worn all evening. Just the sight of her was enough for him to get himself back up and running, to an extent. He walked towards her but she just... passed him by.

“Falin?”

“I need to talk with Marcille.” she simply stated, giving him a small smile and a nod. She was still squinting. He sure hoped she hadn’t seen too much. Still, he nodded back and let her go. It wasn’t optimal but this would at least buy him time to gather himself. He still needed someone to gather himself with though.

Senshi’s out of the question. Izutsumi would maybe kill me right there and then. Namari would just make it worse. I think both me and Shuro would die of embarrassment. That just leaves him.

The only man in the party who had experience. A veteran of the field of questionable expertise. Someone who was currently just giving him the meanest side-eye from his table as Laios tried and failed to attempt a casual approach.

Mister Chilchuck.

“Laios, just spit it out.” if looks could kill, Laios would no longer be of this world. He didn’t understand why though. He wasn’t talking with Merrylily at all when he approached. He had just... been moving in to hold her hand. Laios wanted jump off the window. “Too late on the uptake you moron, this better be good.” At least the expertise was less questionable now.

“I... I like Marcille...” he whispered, nearly mouthed, scanning the room to see if any undesirables had been listening in. Chilchuck sighed.

“We know.” Laios was slightly taken aback but beat himself up for not being clear enough. Of course, he “liked” Marcille after all.

“I mean like like.” he didn’t expect even Merrylily to jump in.

“Yeah. We know.” Laios was flabbergasted. He had just been introduced to this woman a couple hours ago! How widespread was this information?

“How do you know Chilchuck? Did Falin tell you?!” he knew better than to ask that. She would never.

“Laios... everyone with a functioning set of eyes could tell if they spent five minutes next to the two of you.” this was getting concerning. Chilchuck was not one to joke around and the relief in his voice betrayed the fact that he had been holding this back for a while.

His blood ran cold.

“D-Does she know?!” he was unable to keep his voice down anymore. If this were true, had she played along with him? Or... or...

“Blind as a bat that one.” Merrylily answered with a knowing smirk. He was past questioning her. Laios fell onto the nearby chair.

“I think I might have just died otherwise.” he dunked an entire glass of wine to clear his head a bit.

“So... is that it?” Laios knew this was just Chil’s way to push him along.

“I, well, I came to ask you for some advice, I guess? You’re the only one of us with experience.”

“Oh, he has no experience in a situation like this. I had to ask him out.” Chilchuck nearly choked on his drink, looking at his wife with a look of pure betrayal. This only served to endear Laios.

“So, you’re telling me there’s a chance she’ll-” the poor king did not even get to indulge in that fantasy for long enough to vocalize it.

“Absolutely not! If she hasn’t gotten the hint by now, you’ll both be three feet under before she realizes.” Merrylily told him with no hesitation whatsoever. Laios kept pingponging from hope to despair.

“Even if she feels the same way Laios, given what Fler told me about what she spends her time reading, I don’t think she even realizes a girl can be the one to confess.” Chilchuck added, something that Laios was all too aware of, having seen over half-a-dozen confessions in The Daltian Clan and none of them coming from any of the girls.

“This is almost as bad as when I found out about the curse...” He hung his head into the table, the married half-foot half-heartedly patting him on the back.

“That’s rough buddy. Maybe next time you’ll heed my warnings.” as the men had their bounding session, a very confused Pattadol walked up to Merrylily.

“What’s wrong with his majesty?” asked the elven diplomat, genuinely concerned.

“He just realized he has to be the one to confess.” Merrylily reported nonchalantly, turning the young elf into a tomato.

“Scandalous... tell me more!” her fairy prodded, Laios’ entire world nearly crashing down when he saw the face of the elven queen on the transceiver familiar.

For good or ill, that conversation, along with the life of the party, died when the door to the guild hall were thrown off their hinges. The lower floor stopped in shock and confusion as a ragged figure, blonde hair caked red, stumbled into the building.

From the tables of the second level, it would have been hard for Laios to tell who had just barged into the guild hall. If it was anyone but Falin.

Distance be damned, both pairs of amber eyes met, and the older’s legs moved on their own even before the brain was done parsing what this meant.

Back then... that had not been Falin.

-*-

“Oh, hey Fallin! S-Saw any of that?!” the creaking of the door opening again gave Marcille a miniature heart attack, but thankfully it was the other Touden.

“Sorry. I was gathering some... stuff.” Falin absentmindedly said, leaning on the railing next to her. She had a bottle of wine in her right hand...

Did she come here to console me?!

“But do tell...” the former chimera added, eyeing her intensely with those semi-closed eyes of her.

“I... well... it’s hard to say but...” Marcille crumbled against the wood, increasingly self-conscious under the tall-man’s stare. “It’s about Laios... I-” she turned around and broke eye contact.

She heard glass shatter.

“Falin...?” She turned to see not the eyes of her friend, but those of a predator, molten gold shining in the darkness while the razor-sharp remains of the bottle soared into her throat.

Chapter 9: Sacrificial Lamb

Chapter Text

-*-

They’ll go for your chest first.

Marcille’s right hand miraculously reacted in time to take hold of the incoming shank.

It was not self-preservation that guided Marcille’s hand but practiced instinct. Dawns spent practicing self-defence against common assassination tactics with Izutsumi.

Don’t fall for it, what they are after is your neck.

The mage looked for Falin’s... her assailant’s free hand and, like clockwork, a cake knife soared towards her neck, moonlight reflecting the ghastly scene in its blade.

She knew it was coming. Saw it coming. That did not mean she was fast enough to react to it appropriately.

Blood splattered on her face, blinding her left eye. Her left wrist was momentarily numb as her body caught up to what had just happened.

I don’t think I need to tell you this, but if it comes down to it, your non-vitals are a shield.

Shockwaves erupted from her wrist, cries of panic from her body.

It’s especially tricky to pull a weapon from bone.

Marcille and the person that looked just like Falin now stood at a standstill. Marcille’s right hand barely holding the broken wine bottle at bay, while ‘Falin’ scrambled to try and untangle the knife from inside Marcille’s left wrist.

“Falin! Are you in there?!” Marcille screamed, providing herself a small reprieve from the pain. She did not have Ambrosia, she had foolishly taken Falin’s advice to leave it with her, gods knows where it was by now. That and Izutsumi did not know where she was, but worst of all, she could not be sure if this was a controlled Falin or someone... or something taking her form. She may have survived the ambush, but she quickly realized she was all but out of options already.

“M-Marcille?!” a flash of awareness crossed Falin’s face as she whimpered that name, feeding Marcille hope. Just enough to be ripped away along with the knife from her wrist. Vision blurring from the pain, the half-elf was unable to perceive her legs being swept from under her until it was too late.

The back of her head smashed into the granite floor, turning the world into an incomprehensible mess of bright flashes and blurs and droning noises. Her torso and spine came next, pushing all air out of her lungs and momentarily causing her to lose all sensation on her limbs.

Once again, she was facing death. But this last month had changed something in her. There was still a void of desire when it came to preserving herself. But she was no longer satisfied, no longer content with leaving his plane behind. Not yet. Not without a fight.

There was really only one place the attacker would strike next. So, despite not even feeling her arms yet, despite not even seeing the knife swoop down towards her heart, she willed her body to push past its own apathy and crossed her arms over chest. ‘Falin’s’ forearm collided with her defence, pushing her arms back, to the point where she felt the tip of the cake-cutter knife pierce the edge of her skin before she managed to stop the swing.

This is not Falin.

Marcille had considered it before, but now she knew it. Falin was not this strong without using her newly discovered magic, but in the case that her would-be-controller knew about it, she was not weak enough that someone like Marcille would be able to stop a swing like that while half-dazed, if she were using her magic.

Her vision returned, and she saw the carbon copy of her best friend pull back the hand holding the broken bottle. Mage she may be, but Marcille was still not in full control of her faculties, casting any magic to protect herself would be tantamount to suicide.

Just survive this one Marcille! It’s just a bottle! Grit those teeth!

She clenched her teeth and hoped she would be able to push past the pain and cast magic after whatever came next.

‘Falin’ flipped the grip on the bottle and swung for her eyes. How would she aim magic then?! Still, she stuck to her hopes and let her fate befall her.

“Marcille!” she thought for a second that that fake had used their voice to try and make her drop her guard again, but something had just freed her from the body pinning her.

“Laios?!” she instinctually yelled back, catching the king and the replica of his sister tumbling into the edge of the balcony. Her mind immediately wrested full control of her body back. She raised her hands towards the struggling pair, but hesitated. Without Ambrosia, her aim with offensive magic was still spotty, plus, they were moving too much. There had to be another way...

While she hesitated, she saw a tell. ‘Falin’s’ right arm, despite having been twisted into nothing more than a lump from the tackle, whipping itself in an arc towards the face of the man straddling her. Just like a... tentacle.

"Doppelgänger!” Marcille screamed, both in horror as the monster drew blood from Laios, and because she knew his chances would rocket at knowing what he was dealing with.

More importantly, knowing the identity of her assailant had given her an idea. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes once more.

Visualize it. The moisture in the air. Congealing water and then hardening into ice. A perfectly flat surface, no imperfections. A mirror!

Her mouth and eyes dried up as she sucked all the water from the in the immediate vicinity, magically crafting a thin sheet of perfectly smooth ice. She thanked her lucky stars for the lack of impurities when she saw through one passing glance that she could distinguish her reflection in it.

As Laios lost his advantage and fell on his back, Marcille dove in-between the Doppelgänger and the tall-man, flashing its own reflection back at it.

Just like back in the dungeon, the creature’s instinct got the better of it, attempting to copy itself and reverting back into a large, discoloured octopus-like mollusc. Before it could lock eyes with anyone else, Laios kicked it into the dark recesses of the rooftop.

The duo breathed fast and hard as the adrenaline of the encounter began fading. Marcille could start to feel her wound again, so she pushed herself back to her feet before she entered shock. She had to get Ambrosia and heal her bone correctly.

“Marcille! Marcille are… are you...” Laios called out, strangely seeming to look for her when she was just by his side “Ah, there you are!” as he sat back up, the light of the moon gave Marcille a better look at his face. She gasped as his entire left-side was covered in blood, and unlike her, the wound that caused it was very much prominent on his face, a scar that cut through his entire left cheek and even through the eye, blinding it.

“Laios...”

“Marcille...”

“...you’re hurt!” they said in unison the court mage reached for the king’s cheek while he grasped her injured arm’s hand. “Huh?”

Somehow, that made the pain go away. The two were too busy laughing at the absurdity of it all.

“Well, let’s fix that, shall we? I need to get Ambrosia so that I don’t leave lasting effects on your vision,” Marcille offered up her good hand to Laios, helping him get back up. He stumbled forward a bit, not quite able to put his left foot down.

“Sorry, I think it’s sprained...” groaned Laios, getting ready to administer care himself.

“If it’s just that I can fix it myself. Give me a moment.” Marcille got on her knee and tapped the ankle playfully, a simple murmur reducing the swelling and fixing the sprain. “Can you walk now?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” the tall-man stated as the half-elf rose back up to meet his gaze. He looked relieved, happy even, but his brow still furrowed slightly. “You’re going to tell me what this was all about, aren’t you?”

She thought she’d be mortified, but truth is, Marcille was just tired of hiding.

“Yeah... Yeah, I think it’s about time.” she admitted, seeing an injured and still very stressed Falin running towards put a dent on her relief, but she took heart in knowing that, from now on, there would be no more secrets.

Laios’ arms wrapped around her all of a sudden, but what would be comfort quickly faded into bewilderment when she was swept off her feet and made to trade places with him.

The air whizzed, followed by a wet thunk.

The arms holding Marcille dropped her, the young woman falling into a sitting position.

Confusion turned to panic when a thin line of blood trailed down Laios’ chin. Falin’s cries for her brother were drowned by the droning silence that took her when she saw an arrow protruding from his back. His smile was harrowing.

“I made it in time...” he breathed out, looking content. Far too content. His eyes lost their focus and began vanishing into the upper reaches of his head whilst his legs gave way. Marcille tried push herself back up to reach for one of his hands, but her left arm gave way under the pain of the pierced bone, and she tumbled sideways, watching in horror as her saviour vanished over the railing of the balcony.

“Brother!” Falin screamed as she ran past Marcille and jumped over the railing and kicked it with as much power as her body could handle and more. The wood shattered on impact as the girl surged into the night after her fallen sibling.

Even as she cursed herself, the mage had gotten back on her feet with her good hand and tried to follow the chimera down the building. Maybe she could manage to cast a protective spell on Laios before he hit the ground! But just as she was about to take the lead, a now familiar sensation tackled her back to the ground.

How could she not have noticed before? That body was soft, velvety, it wiggled oh so slightly even as it imitated the flesh of another. Her own flesh.

If I had realized sooner. I wouldn’t have had to hold back. And Laios...

Even as the doppelgänger wrapped its disguised tentacles around her neck in the image of her own hands, Marcille felt an intrusive contentment. Normally, one would recoil at being assaulted by a mirror image of yourself. But to Marcille, this was perfect. Afterall, she was staring at the one person she hated most.

They had come for her. Laios and the others didn’t know because of her. Laios had taken that arrow for her. Her. It was all because of the Witch standing over of her.

Hopefully it’s healthier than single-minded vengeance.

Marcille’s trembling hand reached for her counterfeit’s neck. She would never be able to overpower it. Regardless of the shape it took had the strength of a handful of tall-men. But even so, as her hand reached the reproduction of her own skin, the creature seemed to hesitate, it’s eyes widening in distress as they began to split in twain, trying and failing to reproduce her prey’s own eyes.

I’m sorry Mithrun. I guess I’m no better after all.

“Aslam!”

The veil of night was lifted by a pillar of flame piercing through the heavens. It was much too bright for any one mage. But its creator did not even spare it a thought. Her eyes had been opened.

Even as the smouldering doppelgänger desperately attempted to finish the job with no regard to its own safety, she could see them.

She could see the elven archer at the top of Melini’s outer wall, clear as day, nocking another arrow in her direction.

“Aslam!”

Twin pillars of flame lit up the night’s sky.

Marcille could hear it too. The melody that compelled the doppelgänger to keep going. And the gnome wizard that played it from the rooftop of a house just across the street.

“ASLAM!”

A third pillar tore through the darkness.

Only ashes remained of the monster, and soon, the same could be same of its masters.

Only one left. The Dungeon Lord turned her gaze towards the guild hall.

-*-

“Damn it, of all times to forget your walking stick Marcille!” Chilchuck cursed under his breath, dashing to his daughters’ table with his... partner in tow. He mainly wanted to make sure his children were safe, but he distinctly remembered Izutsumi showing off Marcille’s staff to Meijack.

His blood ran cold when he saw both the daughter closest to him and the girl closest to being his daughter laid out cold on the floor, his other two daughters huddled around them.

“Goodness, Meijack!” Merrylily shouted as she joined the others. She quickly checked for a pulse on both and gave Chilchuck a nod. “They are just asleep.”

“By the looks on you two, they didn’t get blackout drunk, did they?” the girl’s father said, trying to bring some sense of control back to the situation in their eyes.

“No. Well... Meijack was a bit tipsy. But she only took a sip from Izutsumi’s drink before he fell over!” Puckpatti explained, the sound of glass shattering in the distance causing even more unrest on the hall.

“And Izutsumi?”

“She only had the one drink.” Flertom explained, Chilchuck nodding while he knelt next to the spilled drink. He dipped his thumb in and smelled it.

“Apple juice.” he mumbled. Knowing that Izutsumi hated alcohol had already given him more than enough suspicions, but this made it clear. “Someone spiked this. Did Izutsumi pick this drink herself?”

“N-No Falin did...” Puckpatti said with a shake of her head. Merrylily and Chilchuck shared a glance.

Why do you have professionals after you Marcille?! Chilchuck mentally cursed himself for not pushing harder a month ago. There was no way these things weren’t related. “Lily, I...”

“Just go. As long as you don’t play hero.” Merrylily’s voice was tense and hoarse, no doubt fighting against herself to let him go. Chilchuck pulled her forehead in and leaned his against hers before taking Ambrosia and running after Laios.

As the half-foot began running up the stairs, he heard a far off scream, one who’s speaker he could not identify, but still intensifying his dash. As he finished ascending, a red flare nearly blinded him, the resulting burning mistral nearly throwing down the stairs again, if not for Ambrosia grounding him.

Regaining his sight, he looked around the room for the source of the explosion. The adventurers that had followed Laios up had all been knocked back into the ground, some must have been too close to the detonation as their clothes had caught on fire. A wall of flame separated the balcony from the interior now, more than a few of the boards connecting both already cracking from the heat. He did not have much time before it became inaccessible.

“We need water!” Chilchuck barked out, recognizing a few mages in the midst of it all. The only one still standing was that half-elf they had saved way back, but she looked completely out of it. Another, much more distant explosion followed.

“Fionil!” Doni exclaimed, trying to shake the half-elf girl awake from her stupor. She fell back on her hips and attempted to crawl away from something.

The floorboards crackled again with flames, two of the mages getting up and starting to chant, but even they seemed to quickly freeze at the sound of yet another eruption. Chilchuck started weighing the chances he had at jumping through the fire, but then, he felt it too. The feeling of being watched, no, seen. Something behind that wall of fire was looking at him. At them. His body knew that.

Something started stepping out of the flames. Chilchuck’s sweat burnt the side of his face as he contemplated rushing back to get his family to safety. But no, not yet. He owed those three too much.

So, he watched as a red-stained heel was followed by a scorched black and white dress, the flames that once separated the room from the outside dancing around this... creature in human-clothing. Even as what should be a recognizable, familiar, face emerged from the flames, Chilchuck was barely able to recognize it. It was those eyes. They demanded all of his attention, yet he could not comprehend them. One iris, fighting to become two. It was all so familiar, yet his mind blanked at the sight of it all. It was only when the eyes’ owner spoke that Chilchuck knew who it was.

“You!” Chilchuck could scarcely recognize that voice. It rung not in his ears, but directly inside his head. But there was no doubt in his mind. This was Marcille. “You did this!”

The wood beneath Fionil twisted itself into grotesque, animalistic hands and grasped the girl’s limbs so tightly they drew blood.

Marcille never casted magic like this. Magic that animated the enviroment. At least not since...

Not again.

As impossible as it may have seemed to Chilchuck, he had only seen Marcille’s expression twisted like that once before, when the devil itself was whispering in her ear. Then why? Why again? Why now?! Where were the Touden siblings?!

The Lord of a bygone dungeon began stalking towards the horrified Fionil, flames congregating on her right hand. A very stupid kid stood in her way when she threatened to point that molten ball at Fionil.

“What are you doing Marcille? Fionil always stood up for you!” Doni yelled, standing defiant even as the grip on his sword loosened with every step the Marcille took.

“Ask her then. Did she meet with some friends lately? Maybe get asked a favour or two?! Spend more time than usual with Falin?”

“I don’t get what you’re implying, but I’m not letting you touch her. I hoped we could trust you but you’re no different from the Lunatic Magician!” Chilchuck wanted to yell at that kid to shut up. Last time Marcille was like this she had killed people, even if only because she could bring them back. This was not the case anymore.

“Out of my way Doni!” The successor to the magician warned.

That kid was not going to budge. Chilchuck knew it. But what he did next was not for him. What he did next was for her.

Ignoring his better sense and swallowing the fact that he was once again breaking a promise to his wife, Chilchuck pushed Doni out of the way once Marcille raised her hand at him. There was a flash of hesitation in her eyes.

“Chilchuck… please don’t.” she begged, her inner voice no longer scrambling his brains worth every syllable. The fires in her hand withered away. She was still in there.

“Marcille, whatever she’s done, it’s not worth this!” the half-foot gestured to the burning hall, the terrified adventurers, the injured girl behind him.

“How can you say that?! She’s why they got in! She-”

“It doesn’t matter!” Chilchuck yelled back, stomping his foot on the ground. Laios and Falin weren’t here. Izutsumi couldn’t be here. It was up to him. “If you don’t stop now, you won’t be able to come back from this!”

“That doesn’t matter! I don’t...” she took another step towards him. His clothes caught on fire. Marcille recoiled in horror, seemingly unable to even control the power she was wielding. Chilchuck stepped in her direction, undeterred.

“Are you going to waste the second chance that Laios gave you?! He put his entire claim on the line for you, and you’re just going to let it burn?!” Something in what he said caused her expression to break. In that moment, all flames, both outside the hall and inside it's walls, all of them vanished, leaving behind only burnt wood and ashes. Tears began welling up in Marcille's eyes. Yes, they were her eyes again, weren’t they, Chilchuck pondered wth relief. Not those deathly hourglass shaped abominations.

“Laios... an arrow... he fell... it’s my fault.” she croaked, struggling to speak with her own voice again. Chilchuck pushed all of his pessimism aside. Even as everyone in the room yelled at him not to, he extended Ambrosia back in Marcille’s direction.

“Don’t waste your time here then. Go. They need you.” the half-foot patted her on the back as she took the staff. She glanced around the room, clearly distressed at the looks of sheer terror everyone else wore. “Get going!”

The Court Magician ran to her King.

-*-

What was I doing?! What was I going to do?!

Marcille ran down the stairs to the second floor, stumbling both physically and mentally. She only remembered bits and pieces of the night, everthing else felt hazy, like a nightmare would after you woke up. There was only one thing that was clear to her.

I made it in time...

That it was her fault. That she could have reached him. That he was there because of her.

She had to make things right. She was going to, no matter what.

The world blended around her into a sea of faceless entities, running about, screaming, bumping into each other. None of them mattered to Marcille. She staggered down another set of stairs. Her vision started to blur. She could see that she had left a trail of blood behind. Was she bleeding? It didn’t matter, she would crawl to him if she had to.

The ground floor was a lot quieter. Sombre even. She saw many huddled around the windows, looking into the city outside. The only noise came from a huge crowd gathering at the exit. She couldn’t be held up. She raised her staff and detonated an explosion in midair, scattering the crowd in front of her.

They did not fear her like the ones upstairs. Not yet. But they all wordlessly cleared her a path as she made her way to the door. All but one.

“Lass, you’re bleeding.” Senshi told her, his face the only one in the crowd she could distinguish. The face of the only one blocking the door.

“It’s… nothing I can’t fix. Laios. I have to get to Laios. Senshi please…” she was barely coherent still, at least to herself. But Senshi understood.

“Things are not looking good Marcille.” he warned her, clearly concerned for her state. He took one look at her hand and then at her bloodshot eyes. “Are ye sure you want to see what’s outside?”

“It’s my job Senshi. I have to make a difference.” she was convincing herself just as much as the dwarf. He did not look like he wanted to, but as a wail pierced the night, he knew he had to step aside.

“Go on. If anyone can, it's you.” they both nodded at each other, Marcille and Marcille alone was allowed to pass.

-*-

Laios lay motionless on his side, the arrow still lodged into the back of his ribcage. Only a handful of people had been allowed to pass to see to him. His sister had fallen with him. Yaad as the foremost authority while Laios was not conscious. Pattadol as the nearest and best healer. Shuro probably found them. And now, Marcille, the one who caused all of this.

Tears poured down his sisters face as more and more healing light poured out of her. She seemed to lose consciousness for a moment, trying to get back to it before Shuro held her arms back.

“Let me go Shuro! I have to heal him! I have to-” Falin screeched, only barely being held in place by the eastern man.

“You’re going to kill yourself if you keep channelling so much!” Shuro shouted back, unable to contain her for longer. “He’s not breathing, you have to let go!” The air around Falin changed and she gained the strength of a dragon again, catapulting Shuro against the wall next to Marcille.

She looked terrified of what she had just done, but just as terrified when she turned back to look at her fallen brother. There was very little blood. Only small puddle oozing from his back.

“I... I cushioned his fall. I cast a ward. Why. Why isn’t he breathing?!” his sister was hysterical, just how Marcille thought she herself would be. Instead, her mind was clearer than it had been in months.

“The arrow... pierced his heart. He was dead before they landed...” Shuro coughed while he picked himself back up.

It had indeed been, entirely, her fault.

She knew what to do. She looked at Shuro, but abandoned that idea. She would not curse him with Falin’s hatred.

Only ones left outside were Yaad and Pattadol, everyone else was still held back by Senshi.

She chose Pattadol. She cared the least about Pattadol.

“Pattadol. As Court Wizard, I have a request.” she phrased it like that, but the way Pattadol bowed her head told her that she knew what this really was. An order. “I need you to get Falin away from Laios. Even a few seconds is enough.”

“Respectfully, His Majesty has unfortunately passed. What need is there?” Pattadol stated, always formal, but even her voice trembled at this situation. Marcille simply started walking towards the Toudens. “You can’t mean to!”

“This country will not last without him.” the fairy laying on her shoulder stated grimly. “This is her burden to bear.” While true, Marcille had no such selfless reason. Guilt. Desire. These were what guided her.

The former Canary began chanting. Marcille stood next to Falin, the two sharing a few moments. The tall-man girl could see the grim determination on her friend’s eyes, and the realization of its meaning horrified her. She reached for Marcille, but Pattadol’s magic flickered her into the night.

This is good. She doesn’t need to see this.

Resurrection can only happen inside the Island’s dungeon. That has always been an ironclad rule. And yet, there were still ghosts, ghouls and zombies, even in the world outside the dungeon. The truth was actually a lot simpler. To heal something, you need to offer something of equal value. Be it the body’s own calories, or your own mana. Anything less created beings that were... less.

And such, it follows that the only way to restore a soul, is with a soul.

To the less learned, what the Court Wizard did was one and the same with the dark arts. But there was no link to a demon. This was just... regular healing magic. The most terrifying magic of all.

Her feet circled the body and her staff conducted two streams of blood, her own’s and Laios’, to draw upon the pavement the runes required to establish the link. She began feeling lightheaded as more and more of her wound’s blood was siphoned. But she wouldn’t need to worry for much longer.

Falin landed outside the circle, cracking the pavement beneath her. She tried to run inside, but the barrier had been created. This was a holy ritual. Once the final rule had been inscribed, not even a dragon could break through.

“Marcille! Marcille, stop! I can help! My body’s different, maybe there’s still some dragon in me that we can use!” Falin pleaded, but even if that were a possibility, Marcille would never dare to risk Falin’s life on account of her own foolishness.

She began chanting. The words could not be spoken, only felt. For everyone else, she began speaking gibberish.

“From the land of the living, I call upon thee who rules over the horizon of the dead to accept this soul as barter.” She stabbed Ambrosia directly into the centre of the circle and, as the blood began dissipating into glowing orbs of light, she turned to Falin and smiled, saying:

“Tell everyone that you’ve all made these past few months a blessing.”

Marcille fell through the gravel.

-*-

A warm summer’s breeze greeted the exhausted mage. She smiled. It was just like how Falin described it. Death. Real death. Nothing like the Dungeon’s.

She opened her eyes and found herself on a verdant hillside overlooking a modest village. She raised both eyebrows. She has never seen this place in her life. Would it be that maybe everyone’s passage to the afterlife was unique?

She absentmindedly began scratching her itching face and it felt… fluffy?!

The half-elf looked down at her own hands, finding her nails more akin to claws, and oh, of course, covered in fur! Her head darted around and found a small cottage a few dozen meters away, she made her way to the nearest window as fast as she could.

“Why are there dog ears on the top of my head? Wait, are my real ears gone?! And are these fangs?!” all the serenity, all the acceptance, all gone. “Laioooooosssssssssss!!!”

It took a good bit or Marcille to stop spinning, flailing and screaming in midair. Once she did, she took note of the rest of the anomalies.

“Well, at least I still have clothes on.” she heard that Laios had played very coy around Falin when she asked what Marcille’s Scylla self-had worn, and that could have only meant one thing. Right now, Marcille was thankful to just be back in her former adventuring garb. “And there’s a noticeable lack of extra heads.” In fact, her lower half was still very much limited to only a pair of legs and no wolf-taur body. Well, her feet weren’t exactly human, but she’d take it. “I guess this is how I’d ideally look now?”

She had to admit that that fact Laios had made her ideal self less monstruous made her a tiny bit happy.

But, back to business. She had read of this possibility. She was floating just above ground, was in an unknown location that resembled the descriptions Falin gave of their homeland a lot, and she looked like Laios’ ideal version of her. She was in his dying mind. Most likely a reconstruction of the village he grew up in.

“The spell should have been immediate. Something’s wrong.” she thought back to the notations on resurrection. Laios had enough of his body left to not cause problems, she was using her soul as a catalyst to bring his back, so that should also not be causing problems. She felt like she was forgetting something, but she wasn’t going to waste time trying to remember. “Laios should be around here...”

The house in front of her was far more prominent, far more detailed than the half-remembered town, so this must have been his childhood home. Marcille made her way inside and sure enough, she saw a blonde tall-man standing at the entrance to what looked to be the living room. That wasn’t so hard.

“Laios!” she flew towards him and reached out to his shoulder, slipping right through the man and tumbling into the living room.

That’s not how it works inside dreams...

Or, it usually wasn’t. The less conscious a person was, the harder it was to interact with the dreams. This did not bode well.

“What more do you want from me?!” Laios yelled, the voice coming not from behind her but directly in front. Sure enough, once Marcille raised her head, there he was, despite the uncharacteristic expression. His teeth gritted in anger, eyes reddened by what she could not tell to be fury or the birth of tears, even as his body stalked forward, his knees still trembled. Marcille turned around to see the target of this whirlpool of emotions.

“How is that still a question? I only ever wanted one thing from you Laios. For you to become a man befitting your station, whatever that may be.” the older tall-man spat, glaring back at Laios with a look of contempt. It didn’t take a genius to realize who he was. Were Laios to grow his hair and a moustache, he’d look just like him, and even this dignified, strong posture was something that Marcille had seen in Laios at his best. Adding to the fact that he was flanked by a red-haired tall-woman, the same hair colour that Falin said she wished they had inherited instead... well. It said it all.

“We saved the world you old coot! I’m a king now!” Marcille’s mouth opened in shock. Laios was never one to brag.

“You could not even save your sister!” his father growled back, the spectre of Marcille pulling back as both Laios and his father approached each other. “What have you ever accomplished on your own? You’d be dead if not for Falin. You coasted of that mage to bring her back. The world only needed saving because of your actions!”

“I know! There wasn’t a moment that passed that I didn’t blame myself for what happened to Falin. But not everyone is like you. Animals... humans. We’re better when we can rely on one another. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” Laios shot back, his voice having lost some of the edge it had before. Even if Marcille knew he was right, it did not seem to translate.

“Here we go again. You don’t even see yourself as a human, how can you expect to lead a nation of them?!” for the first time, the weight of the accusation caused Laios’ eyes broke away from his father’s.

“I’ve been doing a hell of a lot better than our country’s king did! No obese slobs siphoning our crops away, no army siphoning children into meaningless wars! No hunting people whose only crime was being talented at something you didn’t want to understand!”

“And where did that kind of kingship lead you?!” the father screamed. The air ran cold as Laios instinctually touched his chest, despite still not seeming fully aware of his situation. “You don’t understand us Laios. If you did, you’d know better than to trust someone like that Witch!”

“Don’t you dare bring any of them into this!” Laios grasped his father’s collar, his eyes yelling that he wanted to do more. “I would trust them with my life.”

“And that’s why we’re here.” the older tall-man stated, the same trail of blood that dripped down Laios’ chin before he fell now flowing down the image of his father.

“I... no. I can’t be.” Laios let go of his father, looking at anyone for denial even his mother.

“Don’t worry sweetie. I’m sure Falin will be able to carry your torch.” And she responded with the worst possible answer. It didn’t matter how genuine, how caring her smile was. The moment she uttered those words, her son was crushed.

“Falin will? But she... no! She wants to travel the world! She-”

“I am sure she does. And yet, once again, you leave the consequences of your actions to your betters.” the village chief scoffed. His voice became less and less his own, more of a cacophony of many men at once. “Perhaps this for the best. You did well, for a beast. Only a monster could devour the devil. You may leave the world to us humans now.”

Laios ran out the door. Marcille could swear she saw tears in his eyes. When was the last time she had seen him cry?

She had to go after him.

“Is it really worth it?” she stopped as Laios’ mother addressed her directly, both of the parent’s eyes clearly seeing past the veil. “To go to this extent for someone who would see you as a monster?” They weren’t real. They were just figments of Laios’ mind, slowly intermingling with hers. So, the one asking her this was... Laios himself.

This is what she had missed. For someone to be resurrected... they needed to want to come back.

“Of course. Afterall, I’m a much worse monster than what he sees me as.” Marcille replied, smiling as she finally realized why she had made her choice. “I’ll be going now. If you’re half as bad as he imagines you, I’ll make sure your kid comes back to give you an earful!”

It would just be a shame that she wouldn’t be there to see it.

“Marcille!” she heard Laios’ voice call out through his father’s image as she left to give chase. She didn’t look back. She needed to be brave.

For Laios.

-*-

Leaving his home lead her into a dark forest’s clearing, lit only by a meek bonfire. A bloodied Laios, wearing an armour emblazoned with a gryphon crest, was thrown into a tree and had his arms held back by two men wearing the same kind of armour.

A gryphon's crest... right. Fardormar's signet. The eastmost, and most importantly, constantly warring, nation in the Northern Continent. This must be during Laios' time in the army.

“How dare you come back here?! Dalton’s dead because of you!” a third tall-man shouted, his fist colliding with Laios’ chin, his blood flying right through Marcille. “You didn’t even go into the cave!”

“I... tried to warn him! The marks on the side of the cave match my book’s description of a Arachne! There was no point chasing the fugitives insi-” Laios’ pleas went unanswered when his former comrade-in-arms kicked his stomach in. More blood splattered on the ground and the disgust of the people around him grew.

“I thought we tore that children’s playbook to pieces! Schwartz, check his tent! The bastard may have had copies!” the ringleader ordered. One of the two men holding Laios down saluted and ran to the tent next to Marcille’s. Panic began overtaking Laios, turning into terror once the man emerged with the book that Marcille recognized as the one that had started their foray into monster food. “Well, would you look at that.” The leader of the men took book from his underling and flipped through it. “Looks like we got a deserter and an artist on our hands!”

Schwartz and the other underlying laughed it off with practiced ease, the growing despair on Laios’ face signalling to Marcille that this had not been the first time.

“Well, how about we give him a preview of what happens to deserters around these parts?” the ringleader held the book over the flames, the bonfire’s blaze licking the books edges and forming the flaws that Marcille knew to be there.

“I didn’t desert anyone! I tried to stop Dalton!”

“The words of a freak like you, or of a scion like me. I wonder who the courts will believe?” the ringleader taunted. A tale as old as time. It did not surprise Marcille that this kind of things happened in the army, but it did, selfishly, pain her how much Laios kept from them.

Laios roared, fuelled by self-preservation and a ghastly hatred in his eyes that Marcille had not even dreamed of him being able to manifest. He pulled one of his arms free from the one person holding him down, elbowed him in the temple and charged the nobleman, colliding with him with a mighty shoulder tackle. The Monster Cooking Manual soared back into Laios’ hands as if it had a mind of its own. Tragically, the tall-man hugged it like if it was the closest thing to a friend he had. It wasn’t hard to believe.

Then came the screams. The man Laios had tackled had fallen into the flames, the linen and cotton of his clothes taking to the flame like a child took to their mother.

Laios and Marcille stood there, side by side, for a few, eternal seconds, one reviving the horror, the other aghast by it. And then he ran.

“Deserter!” they cried. That did not seem to give him pause. “Murderer!” they yelled. Laios stopped for a moment and looked back on his so-called comrades, a mix of regret, shame and even contentment on his face. And then vanished into the night.

The witness to this tragedy began to follow, but yet again, something called out to her.

“Would you subject the people to be ruled by such a monster?” Marcille turned around and looked upon the effigy of the captain, its formerly black eyes shining with the golden glow of a Touden’s eyes. “Would you subject him to care for monsters such as us?”

Laios had always kept quiet as to what came of his encounter with the lion. What had it preyed upon. Even if Laios had outsmarted it in the end, seeing all of this, as someone taken by the same entity, Marcille knew. This was it.

What is a monster to Laios? What scares one who dances with the bogeyman? Humans. Humans are his monster. Tall-men. Elves. Gnomes. All of them.

And now, he was destined to rule over them.

“I would.” Marcille answered back, the effigy standing its ground resolutely. “I believe that deep down, he knows. There are those of us who are worth his love. Who love him. And if even one of those remains, I know that Laios could not bear to abandon them.”

It was not a hopeful answer. She hoped that one day, when her bones had long since returned to the earth, the World would have given Laios enough loved ones to revoke this view. But for now, this would have to do.

The effigy of the man burned away into ashes, the sooth covering Marcille and taking her vision for a moment. Once it vanished, it was sunset in a place far, far away.

-*-

Laios stood in front of the entrance to Melini’s Dungeon. Alone. The once vibrant gathering place now a tomb in waiting. Had she failed? Was the living world just not good enough for him? She had to try, one last time. And so, she called his name.

“Laios.” Falin’s voice called in unison with hers. Laios trembled but did not turn even as the image of his sister stood next to Marcille. “Why? You moved mountains to bring me back into this world, and yet, why you are so eager to leave?!”

“You know, questing with all of you was the first time it felt like it was more than about sustaining my family. I sure hope you weren’t faking all those dumbass smiles.” Chilchuck said as he appeared beside Falin.

“You gave me hope for the surface lad. Don’t be a hypocrite and have some yerself.” Senshi admonished even as Laios took the first step into the dungeon.

“You’re going to make a lot of people cry if you run away.” Izutsumi growled, putting on a false air of combativeness. “I may be one of them...”

“C’mon Laios, you really gonna dip like we did? After you made us have to grow a backbone?!” Namari yelled, being flanked by Shuro as the small group became a crowd.

“We still have not had a frank conversation like I promised. Postpone your departure for a while, won’t you, Laios?” Shuro politely requested, seemingly the final person that had had the time to claw his way into the tall-man’s heart deep enough that his mind would consider using dissuade him. Well, all but one.

“Laios...” her voice, but not her own, whispered. Passing into her, overlapping almost, if not for her levitation, was... herself. She took a deep breath and screamed: “You said you weren’t going to leave me behind!”

The man she would give her life for turned around. He turned to the people that had made his life worth living and smiled, even as they all faded into the endless field of verdant tall grass that Falin had described seeing in the moments before her revival.

-*-

She could see it in him. The will to live. And he could see her. For the first time since she entered his mind, and for the last time.

“Marcille... I think I’m ready to go back.” He stumbled towards her, his feet starting to sink into what should be his final resting place. Marcille held out her hand to the man that had begun sinking into the reeds.

“Then... let’s get you home.” she cooed, saying nothing of the price that would be paid from taking her hand. It was a lie in all but technicality. One, final lie that she would be remembered by.

“Heh. If the real you could see how she looks inside my dreams, she would never let me hear the end of it.” Laios jested, his cold, stiff hand taking Marcille’s offer. Marcille became all too aware that between the two of them, there was only one heartbeat. He was nearly gone. There was no time for hesitation, no time for a real goodbye.

“It really is me Laios.” she muttered, smiling forlornly as panic began to set in to the tall-man. He had believed her, just like that. It was so bittersweet. She felt her heartbeat stop. Her feet touched the ground. “And... I think I’m honoured.” she could hear a heartbeat again, but not feel it. They were now, for one last time, standing in front of one another. She could have done many things. Hug him. Cry into his chest. Tell him how she, thought, she felt. But she would not curse him with that knowledge in her moment of departure. “Thank you. For letting me into your heart.”

She began to sink.

His eyes widened in terror as his feet left the ground. He knew. He did not understand, but she could tell that he knew.

“No. No! I didn’t agree to this!” he wailed, his kind hold becoming a desperate grip as he attempted to pull at the Witch who had just tricked him.

“And that’s why you’re worth it.” Marcille told him, letting go of his hand. Laios’ free hand immediately grasped that arm as well. He was floating away, into the light. The only thing anchoring him here was her. Such seemed to be her role in their lives.

“What’s the point of going back?! I turned back because you were there!” a storm of emotions fuelled his protests. Anger. Disappointment. Despair. None of them good. None of them suiting him.

“Laios, you can be such an idiot.” Marcille cusped the tall-man’s cheek while her waist vanished into the reeds. “You have so much more to look forward to. Our friends are there. Falin is there.” the mention of his sister stunned him. She could feel his grasp slipping.

“You’re wrong.”

A second pair of hands grabbed her cupped hand. A second heartbeat introduced into Laios’ lonely symphony. A second pair of amber eyes resolutely stared into hers.

“I’m right here!” Falin exclaimed, materializing next to her brother in a storm of white feathers. It was beautiful. Like an angel had graced the maws of hell. “And we aren’t letting you go that easy!”

Reinvigorating her older sibling, with him now firmly grasping her right hand and Falin holding her left, Marcille stopped sinking. But, at the same time, Laios stopped rising. The realization woke her from her reverie.

“Falin! You know how these spells work! You must pay their cost!” Marcille cried out, not out of self-preservation, but because she knew that trying to avoid a magic’s cost only added weight to the debt.

“And who decided that?!” Falin cried back, frustration, anger, but most of all, determination shining through the dragon. “Did you care about cost when you brought me back?!”

“The world nearly ended because of that!” she screamed back, nearly parroting Laios’ own subconscious. “I made you experience something worse than death...”

“Stop blaming yourself! That Lion nearly ended the world. Thistle twisted Falin’s body.” Laios interjected as both his and Falin started to be pulled in with Marcille.

“Let me go! I have to pay for what I’ve done!” She tried to twist her arms away, but their grip was unbending. If it kept up like this, they’d all pay the price.

“Stop talking about what you have to do. What do you want to do Marcille?!” Laios exclaimed, that word resonating with Marcille again. “Come on, it’s okay to be a little selfish, isn’t it?”

What did she want? Why did that matter? Actions have consequences. She was reaping what she sowed.

“We’ve all made mistakes. But you’re the only one that can’t help but be defined by them.” Falin told her, her closing her eyes and taking a breath. She and Laios shared a glance.

“It’s your choice.” The Touden siblings smiled and loosened their grips.

Her choice to what? Attempt the impossible? Again? Laios had done it, yes, but she...

An image of her partner from her nightmares flashed in her mind.

She...

A coward to the end.

She would not be defined by her failures.

“I want to... I want to punch your parents in the face for what they did to Laios!” Marcille barked, gripping back at the Touden’s hands. “I want to make a safe dungeon that helps this country flourish!”

She could feel something well up inside of her empty shell.

“I want Mamma to know that she raised me well!” Laios and Falin heaved, no longer losing altitude. “I want to see Chil get his life together! I want to be there when Tsumi finds her own passion! I want to see tomorrow with you!”

Falin closed her eyes and joined in: “I want all three of us to go on one long trip to the edge of the world!” as her eyes opened once more, her iris had taken a familiar, split shape. Marcille could feel her waist leave the reeds.

“I want us to make a kingdom where no one goes through any kind of hunger!” Laios proclaimed himself, his irises following through.

“I.” Her knees escaped the shadows clawing at her from beyond.

“Want.” Her feet got grabbed by one final unseen chain.

“To.” Laios and Falin howled.

“Live!” Marcille roared. Something let go. The trio collapsed into a verdant clearing.

There they lay in silence, heaving, exhausted despite being no more than souls.

As the girl’s eyes opened back up again, Falin and Laios had sat up and beamed back at her, gleaming like twin suns. She did her best to repay the favour. She would live her life to repay that favour.

The three of them helped each other back on their feet, unable to stand on their own. The sun set on the infinite sea of green. Falin lead the way, away from the sunset. Towards Home.

As they walked, Marcille closed her eyes. There was only one heartbeat. But it was louder, mightier than any one heart could muster. There was only one way to explain it.

Three hearts beating as one.

Chapter 10: Canine Tongue

Chapter Text

-*-

Marcille’s back felt like she had been the one to fall off a building, she had the mother of all headaches and when she finally tried to move, every bone in her body seemed to crack at the slightest movement. That’s how she knew she wasn’t dreaming.

Her eyes had to be pried open, but doing so didn’t reveal much. Most of the room was completely dark. She was in a bed that should feel comfortable, but it was just killing her. She tried to sit up, but as she started to move, an eye and a half suddenly appeared in front of hers along with the faint source of light that was somewhere in the room before.

“You’re back, I see.” the impassive voice of Mithrun stoically acknowledged after a couple seconds. Marcille freaked out.

“Get off me, you debaucherous philanderer!” she yelled, screaming and clawing at the middle-aged man that had just decided to straddle her without any hint of consent. He barely had to move to dodge her assault, weaving his way out of her bed with nary a bead of sweat, candle in hand.

“Well, I’ll call the doctor for physical check-ups then.” he commented impassively, falling back on a chair and ringing a Whisperbell that he kept on the table. He observed the girl as she pushed her blush away and straightened her ailing back. Once the time was right, he added: “You’ve made quite the mess.”

He knew. Of course he knew. The entire capital would know by the morning.

But wait, he and Kabru should on their way to the Western Continent by the time we got to the party.

“Are Laios and Falin alright?! And... how long... how long was I out?” she mumbled, her voice hoarse and groggy.

“Two weeks.” Mithrun replied, scoffing at how Marcille’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. “A remarkably short time for the stunt you pulled.” Well, he was correct. Forever would be the realistic outcome. “As for the royal family...” he pointed to the north and opposite end of the room with his free hand, and sure enough, there were two, still occupied beds. “Probably waking up any minute now.”

“Oh, thank the heavens...” she felt a strange sensation on her head as something patted the top of it, but she was too busy feeling thankful for it to not have all been a dream. “Was it a wanted poster...?” Mithrun slapped it on her cupboard.

“Ironically, it saved your life. If we hadn’t found one, we wouldn’t have doubled back. And if we took a few more minutes, you’d have thrown yourself into the great beyond.” he replied impassively, moving to check on the other two. This raised even more questions. Was it not Falin that saved her? This was put on hold when Mithrun forcibly opened both of Laios’ eyes and shone a light in them.

“What are you doing you cycloptic moron?!” she screeched, just as Laios came to and pinched Mithrun’s cheek.

“Oh, it’s you. Marcille’s pudgier.” Laios stated matter-of-factly, casually yawning and sitting up as if he had just woken up from a quick nap.

“No, I’m not!” she knew better, Mithrun was practically skeletal, but one does not just say that. “And wait, did you just confuse me for a guy?!”

“It’s not his fault that elven guys look the same as girls.” Falin mumbled while she pushed herself onto her knees and took a great big stretch. “Mornin’ Brother, Marcille.”

“Mornin’ Falin!”

“You two are way too casual about this...” Marcille mumbled and rolled her eyes, but at least this was still within her shenanigan tolerance. Then the door was slammed open!

“Buongiorno principesse e principi!!!!!” Marcille froze at the voice. Falin waved happily. Laios looked at her and then at the intruder, and then back at her. Marcille turned around.

“What are you doing here Mamma?!” she yelped at the sight of the taller, shorter haired, pointier eared and only slightly older-looking version of herself twirling into the room. “And why are you wearing my clothes?!” She was even wearing her adventuring gear, probably just to mess with her a bit.

“Sorry Marcille, I only had my dress on me when I got here, so I poked around your closet.” she winked at her with her tongue out and Marcille grumbled. “Now, sit back down, it’s time for your check-ups!”

“I can do it myself, don’t worry.” a long cane with a reproduction of Pipi at the top smacked the top of Marcille’s head to silence any protests.

“Patients do not treat themselves. Now, back on the bed.” her mother ordered, giving Mithrun a thumbs-up. “You’re dismissed, brooding bodyguard.” Mithrun seemed more than a bit thankful he wouldn’t have to share with the rest’s pain. Before he left, Marcille had one extra question.

“Mithrun... where’s Tsumi? I thought she’d be the one guarding us. Is she...”

“She’s fine. Well, physically, I guess. She personally asked me to keep guard on you, but didn’t seem too happy about it...” and just like that he left. Marcille’s ears drooped. She needed to find her as soon as she could. But first, she had to endure her mother scanning her body while giggling like a pre-teen at how adorable she was.

“Pst... Marcille!” Laios whispered the loudest whisper known to man. “You never told me your mother’s name. I don’t want to be rude.”

“It’s...”

“My name is Madeline Donato di Cagliostro! But you can call me Madie, you sweet young ragazzo!” just as swiftly as she attacked Marcille, she moved in to pinch the tall-man’s cheeks while giving him a very, very analytical look, scanning him from head to toe, though it was clear to everyone in the room that it was not for any medical reason. “You know, I expected a lot worse. You’re quite the catch, aren’t you?!”

“Mrs. Madie, haven’t you remarried?” Falin asked, as sweetly as it was pointed. If the rest of the room noticed Marcille wretch at that mention, they did not comment on it.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry, I didn’t mean it for myself little Fa-Fa.” she replied as she finished the examination in record time and moved to the little Touden sibling. “You’re such a cutie even after all these years. You were so tiny last time! And such pretty feathers you have!”

“I was fourteen! Of course I was small!” Falin faked outrage but she had hit it off incredibly well with Marcille’s mother the one time she visited the Academy and that didn’t seem to change any.

“Tall-men are so charming. Oh well, you are all perfectly healthy. And I do want to stress it, even as I light up the room, that you are, currently the picture of health. That does not mean you’ll stay that way, but do not panic.” Marcille raised her eyebrow, how oddly specific of her mother. “Now, I’m going to make some brioche, you stay here. You have things to talk about, I’m sure.” That last bit came with a very quick and sharp look towards her daughter. It wasn’t a suggestion. Marcille readied herself mentally while the Toudens waved her mother goodbye after she resummoned the artificial light on all corners of the room that Thistle’s lair usually maintained all day.

First thing she noticed was Laios exploding into a red hue while pointing at her. Falin did not seem to give it any thought as both she and Marcille noticed the same thing.

“Laios, your eye!” they both said in unison, Falin already at his side to cast some healing magic. His scar had not been healed at all, and while Marcille couldn’t tell it that well from afar, when she got closer, she saw that while his left eye was healed, its iris had not left the hourglass shape that it had gained during the last push to save her. She quickly checked Falin, and her eyes seemed fine. “It’s not healing!”

“This must be a side-effect. But I have to narrow down the cause. Laios, are my eyes like that, is that why you’re staring like a doe?” she had two causes in mind, but both were hard to ascertain.

“E-E-Ears!” he managed to croak. Marcille’s blood ran cold, and she stared at the mirror. They hadn’t left. Oh lord, they hadn’t left. Worse. They had just been added.

“AAAAAAAH! F-F-Four ears?! This better not be your fault Laios!” she pulled at her newly formed pair of furry ears at the top of her head and the pain she felt only made it worse. They were real. They were flesh. They were stuck. Like a pair of half-elf ears didn’t catch enough eyes, she now had a pair of animal ones too! This had to be his fault, this must have been a leftover of his form in his mind.

“Let me see if I can dispel them Maaaaaaaar-”Falin lost her balance and fell over backwards when she tried to move next to Marcille. It looked like her centre of weight had changed, but the reason was far more sinister than any of the onlookers could imagine. Laios and Marcille looked in horror as a long, red, scaley tail poked out through her sleeping clothes.

“I’d never wish for this.” Laios stated with an uncharacteristic seriousness. Marcille nodded.

-*-

“We can narrow this down to either being backlash from breaking the rules with the resurrection spell, or abusing the extra magical abilities from our condition then?” Laios enumerated, with the two more experienced mages nodding along. “Shame I got the least consequences...”

“Are you still going on about turning into a monster?!” Marcille yelled, genuinely furious he could not read the room.

“No! I mean, a little. But I’m worried about Falin the most.” she felt very stupid. Falin had been eerily terse during this entire conversation, and Marcille could not blame her. She had gotten the worst of this, and she was already the one who had suffered the most from this kind of thing.

“It’s alright. I really would do it all again for us to stay together!” she put up a very fragile smile in return, but from Laios’ expression, Marcille knew that both of them had to find a way to solve this as soon as humanly possible, for her sake.

They had a quiet moment before Marcille spoke.

“I owe you all an explanation.” she picked up the poster that Mithrun had planted next to her and let the Toudens look at it. Their curiosity became horror, but especially so on Falin’s side, as she truly understood the depths of the accusation.

“Ten million gold pieces?!” Laios gawked.

“They denounced you as a Witch publicly?!” blurted his sister.

Both of them turned their gaze on the girl that now couldn’t meet it.

“How long have you known about this?” Laios’ voice was cold but shaken, clearly afraid of what Marcille may answer.

“I... found out just before our first dinner with Chilchuck’s daughters.” whispered Marcille, sending both Toudens into a state of disbelief.

“Why? Why would you hide this?! From me... from us?! Did you think no one would come for it?” She really wished she could grant that to Falin, just blame it on naiveté. Unfortunately, that was wishful thinking.

“I was attacked and nearly died before I even found out. If Tsumi had been a few seconds late I-”

The impact of bone on jaw tore through the room.

Marcille could not, did not, want to believe what had just happened. Even Laios looked distressed when his sister slapped her best friend to the ground. Marcille expected sadness, shock, disbelief to come from Falin. She did not let herself imagine that look of sheer, unadulterated, anger. A look that not only ill-fitted the girl, but one who she had only ever seen when the dragon wore her skin. But this was all Falin, she knew. Marcille had brought this on herself.

“How could you...” tears slithered through the gaps in the chimera girl’s fury. “I trusted you. More than anyone. More than my own family!”

“Falin I’m so sorry, but I was thinking of you!”

“No! You can’t be! And you could not be! I handed you my heart not even a week before we were attacked. I was ready to die for you! For something that you caused. There’s nothing you can say that can justify that!” Falin was nigh hysterical. Marcille just sat there and took the verbal backlash. The chimera grabbed her new tail and pointed it to Marcille. “I have this because of you. Maybe I am going to wake up tonight and be stuck in a prison of my own body’s making again! You were my sister Marcille Donato!” her fury raged and raged until it suddenly, without warning, petered out. And Marcille would wish it never had.

“How could you do this to me...!” Falin cried out in abject sorrow, her face disfigured by an anguish that her sister could never find it in herself to believe could be repaired.

Falin ran out the door, and neither gave chase. Marcille could not. Laios did not look done.

“I’m letting you give me the reasons.” he coldly told her. Marcille knew how fake they sounded; how weak they were. But she said it anyway.

“You were so overwhelmed with kingly duty. Falin was overwhelmed with her own mental issues. And then your one last moment of true freedom was coming up. I didn’t want to... I was going to tell you the next morning! I swear, I wanted nothing more than to never lie to you ever again!”

“How can you expect me to believe you, when you won’t even be honest about why you did it?” Laios did not look human anymore. It was like looking at a beast in man’s clothes. The detachment, the betrayal, the disappointment. He looked like he could not comprehend what was in front of him. “I noticed; you know? Izutsumi following you around. The looks you gave to every corner. I considered asking you many times. But I truly believed, that if you ever needed our help. My help. That you’d not hesitate to ask. Not again.” he passed her by, stopping by the door. “I trusted you Marcille. Now I wonder if you ever could have done the same for me.”

Marcille was left to wallow in her failure. As a friend. As sister. As a person. When her mother arrived at the room, it was empty.

-*-

Hours had passed. Hours that a hooded Marcille had spent roaming the castle grounds and gardens. Izutsumi was nowhere to be seen in the castle. She wanted to look for her outside, but she knew it’d only make things worse. To tell the truth, she was afraid of the gaze of the populace more than anything. So, she did what she always did. Run. As the night was born, she made her way to her room.

She stood in front of the door to it. Dreading what may be on the other side. Falin could still be there, and she still wasn’t sure she could handle a follow-up to their conversation. Izutsumi could be there, and that would be possibly the only good outcome. But if none were... Marcille was no longer used to facing the night alone.

As she pushed the door open, she was met with a bittersweet fourth option.

“Felice di vederti, my little one!” greeted her mother before the door was even fully open. A part of her immediately dropped her barriers at the nostalgic sight of her mother knitting next to her bed with only a magical bulb light meekly illuminating her work. She could only barely distinguish her face, but the smile she wore was as genuine as the one that she had greeted her with when she first announced her presence.

The other part knew that her mother was here for a reason, and she had more than an inkling a to what that would be.

“Buonasera Mamma,” she replied out of habit, making her way to her bed taking a seat facing her mother, receiving a pair of knitting needles and some fabric from her mother. Just like they had done so many times before, the two women started their work as they prepared to bare their hearts.

“My little girl, a Court Magician. At only half-a-century of age. You’re special Marcille. I’m very proud of you. Your father would be too.” the older elf told her with all the care warmth you could ask from a mother. It hurt Marcille. The things she had done partially in her mother’s name. What she was accused of being. The fact that, if she had had her way, there would no longer be any Marcille to be proud of. She didn’t feel worthy of that love.

A couple tears streaked down her cheeks before she even finished her first stitch. She was like putty in front of her mother.

“H-How much do you know?” Marcille answered after a few moments of quiet sobbing.

“Only what you told me in your letter. And the horrible accusation someone laid on you.” Her mother’s gentle fingers swiped her tears from her cheeks as her tone darkened for a moment.

“It’s not an accusation. It’s what I am.” Marcille croaked, dropping her needles and covering her face with her hands. She didn’t want her mother to see her like this, they had just reunited after years apart. But she just couldn’t hold herself back anymore.

“A Witch would not cry at being labelled one.” her mother gently replied, caressing her daughter’s still aching back. “I may not have agreed with your stance that magic has no inherent morality, but that does not mean that a mage’s morality is tied to their magic either. Black Magic may be evil, a bargain with the devil, but much like how healing magic may be abused by the worst of us, Black Magic could be a means to an end for the best of us.” Marcille’s hands uncovered her face as her mother, one of the staunchest deniers of the benefits of the dark arts, little by little broke down her worst fears. “Now, I would very much rather you stop using that ghastly craft, but I think I know enough of your character to not judge you on your usage of it alone.”

“I wouldn’t describe my intentions for when I used Ancient Magic as putting me with the best of us,” Marcille replied, picking back up the needles.

“You said in your letter that you used them to bring back Falin, right? That seems selfless to me. You knew that it would possibly expose you to the world and did it anyway, for someone important to you.” it was like her mother was parroting what she kept telling herself back in the dungeon. But her perspective had been forced to change.

“I never thought about what she wanted.” Marcille stated, returning to her knitting work as she began explaining the crimes that had truly grounded her to this kingdom. As stupid as her qualms with what she did with Falin sounded may have sounded at first, the more she explained to her mother the true depths of her actions in the dungeon, the more her expression seemed to stiffen. True, you could make a safe guess that one would want to be revived at any cost. But would everyone be alright with living for a millennia? Had she even asked any of her friends for their opinions on their lifespans before committing to it? And even had they agreed, what gives her the right to apply it to the world? “I just did what I thought was best for them. For me. I never even considered other’s stances but my own. After all, I am the one that would suffer most, so that surely made me the worthiest to make that call.”

“Seems like you’ve given this a lot of thought already. Wouldn’t you say that’s enough? Mistakes are human. No matter how you look now, you were born human.” Madeline’s hands were deft, swift, focusing on simple motions. Marcille could already start to make up the shape of what she was making would take.

“You cannot make up for some mistakes, no matter how much you try.” Marcille on the other side took long, complex strings of movements, ones that would lead to the greatest possible outcome. They never turned out quite right. She thinks she pricks herself, but when she looks again, there is no wound left.

“That isn’t the case here, and I think you know that.” her mother stated plainly. Marcille had never noticed that her mother did not heal the minor wounds that came from knitting. While her mother’s hands showed her path to her creations, Marcille’s always had been distastefully clean.

“Maybe when it comes to the world at large. But I sacrificed the trust of those closest to me many times by now. I... I never saw Falin look at me like that before. Laios never told me he felt disappointed in me, even when I became an enemy to the world, they, all of them, came for me with smiles on their faces. I’m scared Mamma. More than of this curse, more than what I could have done to the world. I’m scared of what I have done to them.” Even here, she felt self-centred. Even when discussing matters that could have affected the entire world, what truly terrified her was losing friendships, most of which not even a year old yet.

“Falin asked me to trade her life for yours. How could she ever hate you?” Madeline did not look up, even as Marcille’s needles clattered on the ground.

“Y-You’re why she was there?!” Marcille shouted, instinctual bubblings of rage rising from her stomach. It was one thing for her to do it, she deserved it, but Falin was an angel. She... she...

“What did you say about not considering what she wants?” her mother quickly scolded, now halfway through her work. “Did you not do the same? In fact, I doubt you even had any will to do the impossible like she did.”

“You... only accepted because Falin told you she wanted to bring us all back?” if this were the case then, she could understand. A knitting needle drew blood again, this time, her mother’s.

“I did it because you are my daughter Marcille!” Madeline told her daughter, even the echoes of that happening being enough to bring back a look that Marcille had not seen since that fateful trip to her father’s gravestone. “I had just seen my daughter draw her last breath right in front of me! What else would a mother do?! Even if you never forgave me... you’d still be here to hate me.”

The apple does not fall far from the tree. Or perhaps, this was just the natural order of things. Not everything is as black and white as her novels. Anger became remorse as the daughter stood up and embrace the mother. Quiet sobs only shared by the rejoined family scattered into the night while another shackle of fear eroded from Marcille’s soul.

Once they were done, the two returned to their work with renewed vigour. They still had much to catch up on, but before this subject became a wound one would be better off letting close, Marcille had to ask.

“How did you know how to use another’s soul for that spell? What I did is already frowned upon, I wouldn’t be surprised if what you did was more than that.” this wasn’t even mentioning the incredible mastery over the art that it would require. What Marcille had done would be child’s play by comparison. It’s one thing to simply take what is yours and transfer it to someplace else. It’s another thing entirely to grasp something so fundamental to another living being and use it in your own spells without so much as a moment of preparation.

“You really did not have any idea what you were signing up for when you accepted your position, did you?” her mother replied with an exasperated sigh. She didn’t seem frustrated at her, Marcille wondered if she was frustrated at Laios instead.

“I don’t think Laios did either!” she caught herself saying aloud. Her mother giggled as she watched her daughter gesture clumsily, a strangely whimsical expression given the previous topics.

“I don’t doubt it. This entire kingdom defies all logic.” her regular light-hearted tone returned for those sentences only. “As a Court Magician... your foremost duty is to keep your liege alive and capable of ruling. Regulating magical learning in the kingdom, researching new ways to apply magic to its growth, being a figurehead that represents your community, even advising your king, that’s all secondary. Why do you think me, and your father moved away from that life?” her tone was blank, disillusioned, it told the tale before Marcille even had to ask. “What about you Marcille. What made you take that step? A sense of duty? Guilt?”

Marcille stopped to think. Guilt absolutely had played a part in it. Afterall, it was unquestionable that it was her actions that created the situation to begin with. But it didn’t feel right to assign it all to it. Duty was out of the question, nothing about their relationship was based on duty. When it came down to it, it was just...

“I just knew I had to do it.” she answered, as vacant as it may be, it was the best she could say. She had never doubted, not for a second, what she had to do the moment she walked through that door.

“I see... well, I guess I worried for nothing then. There’s no one more suited to be his Court Magician.” the elf woman answered, pep returning to her voice while she happily knitted away.

“I’m sorry Mamma but, I don’t really get what changed your mind.”

“Oh, I’m just saying that being the Court Magician to someone you love would make it a lot easier to handle all the-”

“S-Stop! What are you talking about Mamma?! How did you- I mean, what makes you think that?!” like putty in front of her mother. Madeline chuckled knowingly as she watched her daughter blow steam like a kettle.

“If it wasn't duty. If it wasn't guilt. What other reason could you possibly have to give your life for another’s?" she added an extra wink at the end. “Plus, you just told me, silly!”

“Well, I… I’m not sure myself yet. But even if you’re right, it’s definitely a one-sided thing. You don’t know him so it’s hard for me to explain to you, but I don’t think Laios even understands the concept of romance.” Flashes of Laios in the midst of a petal blizzard biting into a rose with features far closer to an elven man tormented Marcille’s mind as she said it.

Lo, my eternal flower! Let my undeserving body serve as your shade.

“AAAH IT’S SO WEIRD!”

“Are you sure your concept of romance isn’t just as bad?!” Her mother batted back as if she could see what kind of imagery her mind created. She probably regretted passing on her collection to a minor. “But take it from someone who your father courted for eighteen years. If you wait until you’re sure, you’ll have a lot less time to enjoy together.”

“Well, I will be working with him regardless so we’ll be spending a lot of time together… oh no that somehow just makes it worse doesn’t it?” The thought of the entire court side-eyeing her if, well, when they found out but never saying anything out of respect made her consider just going to jail instead.

“It’s not the same, trust me. But a more pressing matter is that, as a king, he is expected to take a wife. You don’t have the same leeway I had with a court historian.” While her mother raised a valid point, it just made Marcille realize another reason why she shouldn’t do this. “And before you say it, I think it’s a bit early to be thinking of children. You must be very confident if you’re worried about that before you even know it’s mutual.”

“That couldn’t be further from the truth!” Marcille screeched through her cringing teeth and closed eyes. She had hoped that almost two decades away from her mother would have caused her to be a tiny bit easier to read! “We aren’t exactly on friendly terms, remember?!”

“Oh puhleeze, so a boy is mad that a girl nearly killed herself for him. Honestly it feels like you’re purposefully ignoring the obvious connotations.”

“You don’t know Laios like I do; he has no idea what social connotations are!”

“That just means that whatever hints he drops are unfiltered.”

“S-Stop, you’re almost starting to make sense!”

He had called her one of the most important people in her life, this was objectively true. He had told her there was nothing wrong with her. This... was not. He had held her, many times, every time more caring than the next. He didn’t need to. He always made time for her, even over his kingdom. This was just stupid. She would have jumped on any of these to find Falin a partner. If Falin had described feeling anything like she felt for someone... But an old question resurfaced in the midst of all that recollection.

Do I still deserve someone like him?

The answer was no... wasn’t it? Not anymore.

“Well, at the end of the day I can only scribe at the shape of your heart. It’s up to you to decipher it.” Her mother finished knitting a strange, cylindrical muff, like the kind that you’d put around an extremely hot or cold flask to manoeuvre it and keep some of the temperature. “I’ll just leave you with this.” Marcille gasped in shock, and slight horror, as her mother opened her research subject drawer and pulled out a flask with two, fully formed fairies with her and Laios’ faces on them respectively. “When you have the time, do tell me what materials you used for these. They were only halfway formed when I visited your room after laying you to rest, and yet every day it’s like an entire month passed.”

How were they halfway formed?! They were three days old when I last left them! This should take nine months! How are they so… no. No! It’s that stupid monster’s fault again!

While she stared at the flask in abject disbelief, the door to her room closed shut again with a soft “Ciao” from her mother, leaving her to contemplate… a lot. About the conversation they just had, the implications this could have on that guy’s biology but most of all, why she felt so jealous at the two fairies sleeping peacefully while leaning on each other. The Laios-looking one even tucked her fairy’s head under his chin!

“I really hate fairies…”

-*-

Laios surveyed yet another day’s status report. The Orc village had begun construction, but they needed supplies and manpower. The Mason’s Guild refused to provide either. Laios would have to mediate them.

“Your Highness.”

With the Orcs leaving the mausoleum, there were reports of monsters roaming it. This was the closest they had gotten to Melini ever since his curse. Maybe he could go see- no, he had to dispatch the guard to slaughter them.

“Laios.”

So many foreign monarchs talking about how they would send representatives soon. Could he trust any of them? Could any of these letters be forged? Assassins just waiting to get through to... he put that subject out of mind. Still, maybe Kabru would know. He should-

“Laios!” something, someone had to shake him for his attention. The king’s face was made to stare into a set of piercing blue eyes, both frowning in annoyance and tilted in concern.

“Oh, right, you’re still here Kabru.” Laios knew that sounded awful to say. His first official advisor had cut into his personal time to dash back to Melini and manage the kingdom in his stead, and the first thing Laios did was grill him for information and proceed to ignore him.

“Mithrun was right, none of you are acting normal.” he sighed, Laios wondering when Mithrun had even seen him. Was he tailing them? “But that’s not the point. We’ve been at this for twelve whole hours Laios, it’s nearly one past midnight.”

Laios wondered how that could be true, he didn’t feel the least bit tired. But lo and behold, a single bell signalled the time. Kabru, as always, was correct. Now that he had gotten a better look at the younger tall-man, his eyebags were becoming pronounced, even with his darker skin.

“I’m sorry Kabru. Sleeping for two weeks likely did a number on my body...” he only half-lied, but that was enough for Kabru’s eye to slice through him like a knife.

“With all due respect, your Highness, it would take a lot more than sleep to get you this interested in politics. I appreciate the enthusiasm in catching up on these fourteen days but...” his usually stoic expression morphed into a rare one of understanding, well, rare to be directed at Laios in particular. “You’ve gone through a lot. It’s okay if you need some time to recover.”

“I already took two entire weeks! My people-”

“Don’t even know you woke up. I made sure of that.” Kabru shook his head and pointed directly in-between his eyes. “Now, tell me what’s gotten you this... obsessed. I never saw you like this whenever monsters were not in the picture. Or... is it Falin? I could ask Mithrun to look for her.”

It’s true that Laios didn’t like to not know where Falin was, but he had learned to recognize the rare times she needed space. This was one of them. Still, as a brother, he couldn’t help himself.

“At least... at least try to make sure she’s safe.” he sighed. Kabru nodded and asked:

“Heard the man?!” into the air, receiving a faint knock on the door as a response. “He’s on it.”

“Thank you. You two are quite in synch.” he commented half-heartedly, not so much to praise him, but wishing he still had that kind of dynamic with someone.

“Heh, you are getting better at complimenting people.” Kabru scratched the side of his cheek, but Laios didn’t really understand what he meant. Was it because he didn’t compare either to a monster? He just didn’t have it in him right now. Still, Kabru was his advisor, wasn’t he? Maybe he could, well, advise something.

“I know it’s late, but can I bring up one more thing?” he was glad to receive a quick nod from the ever-reliable Kabru. “How do you... know when to trust someone?”

“For you to be asking this... something really bad must have happened.” Kabru commentated.

“What do you mean, for me to be asking this?” Laios always saw himself as... detached. Hardly the trusting kind.

“Laios, you’ve trusted people that you’ve just met too many times to count. You’ve trusted people trying to kill you not too long ago. For better or worse, you’re the most trusting person I know.” Kabru replied, something that seemed to go unsaid being very clear right now. He knew who Laios was talking about.

“That’s not really true Kabru. I didn’t, well I didn’t trust you at first sight. I just didn’t think you had any reason to want us any harm.” Kabru blushed. Right, he had told him that he wanted him dead multiple times before. “I guess I’m just a bad judge of character.”

“Maybe? I honestly don’t know Laios. If we look at it objectively, most of the people you put your trust in did turn out to side with you. There was really only one, big, furry exception. And even then, you had people feeding you incorrect information to do so.” Kabru paced around the room. “It’s like you’re looking past what we say and what we’re thinking. It’s creepy. No offense.”

“That’s how it looks like to you? I’m just winging it really.” Laios was as surprised as he was amused. Leave it to Kabru to imagine yet another scheme that his own mind could never comprehend.

“Animals like dogs wing it too and they are well known to be more perceptive than us. I think your instinct is abnormally honed. Maybe from whatever mysterious life you led before coming here.” Kabru answered, no without trying to prod Laios for more information on his past again. He’d not get it, not until Laios himself could come to terms with it.

“You know that calling your King a dog should get you executed, right?” Laios half-heartedly joked, but to him, it was the opposite.

“I don’t serve any king. I serve Laios the Devourer,” Kabru snarked back, turning to watch the window. “What I was getting at Laios, is that I can’t help you with this. I trust people based on analytical facts. I see what they do, I research what makes them tick, I evaluate the consequences. That’s all. You... it’s all in your gut, isn’t it?”

“Well, this time my gut’s all clogged. Guess I should use my brain?” Laios pondered, he didn’t like how terrified Kabru looked at the prospect. “You know, Mar... people seem to think I’m quite smart.”

“That’s not... look, Laios, it’s not that I think that’s a bad idea in theory, but if you try to use a new method, you’re going to struggle. And I can tell that you cannot afford to make some small beginner’s mistakes on whatever is happening here between you and... whoever it is.” Kabru clearly began to spell an M, Laios was thankful that he held back.

“That doesn’t help me figure out what to do.” Laios sighed, leaning back on his chair. Kabru crossed his arms and gave it some thought.

“If we’re going with analogies. Some pipes won’t unclog naturally.” Laios could relate, he had to do that for a living more than a few times to pay for his army costs.

“If we mishandle the process, they can break...”

“And if you leave them clogged, they will eventually. And if they don’t, they might as well be.” Kabru shook his head. “It’s up to you when and if you want to try. It’s possible that you’re better off just making a new one altogether.” For absolutely no logical reason, Laios’ fist clenched and he felt like punching Kabru, who just smiled. “Seems like you’ve got your answer. Well, I’m tired. Good luck with your drainage.”

Laios was left alone in his office, still as ignorant as to what to do as he was before, or at least, he felt that way. He stretched, his muscles were still as fresh as before, but the day’s worth of fatigue was starting to catch up to his mind. Maybe a night’s sleep would also unclog it.

-*-

It would be irresponsible to not give him his fairy now.

Was one of the many reasons Marcille kept enumerating to herself while staring down the door to the king’s bedchambers. Having slept for fourteen days straight, even looking at her bed caused a guttural fear in her, which made her hope the same was the same with the Toudens. Namely, Laios. While passing her hand over the perforated lid to the fairies, she thanked their abnormal growth for the first time. With a backup in place, she finally gathered the courage to knock on the door.

Nothing. Of course. At best he would be asleep, at worst, he’d have grown wise to her...

“Marcille?” the one whose name had been called snapped her neck in the opposite direction. Laios stood there, already back on his kingly attire, looking just as surprised to see her as she was. And only surprised, no disgust, no anger. It gave her a small reprieve.

“Your M-” now there it was, the creeping disappointment. The half-elf mentally slapped herself and steeled her resolve a tiny bit more. “Laios. I really hoped we could talk. In private, if possible.” he didn’t answer. He seemed as conflicted as her. As afraid. “I understand if you need more time...”

“No. This must be hard on you too. Let’s talk.” Laios finally answered walking up. Marcille moved away instinctively, even as she wondered what he was doing. Then he started opening the door.

“W-What are you doing?!” she felt incredibly childish freaking out in a situation like this... but this was a man’s bedchambers!!!

“You said you wanted to talk in private, right? Thistle’s lair is a while away, why not here?” he replied with eyebrows raised, like he had just suggested the most normal thing in the world.

“I can’t just go into an unmarried man’s room!”

“I sleep in your room all the time.”

“Don’t just say that!”

A pair of weak chuckles broke out. Marcille felt her shoulders become a bit lighter. Laios held the door for her and locked it behind both once they were inside.

“You’re quite well organized.” Marcille found herself saying out loud as she scanned the room with her lantern. Even when only illuminated by the moon and a weak light source, Marcille could see a fairly well stocked bookshelf (were those Daltian Clan volumes? Nah, she must’ve confused them with the dim lighting), his adventuring gear was all lined up and kept pristine, alongside a very well kempt desk and clothes. Really, the only thing that jumped the eye was the sheer amount of unopened letters.

“Well, it’s one less thing for Falin to worry about.” he replied with a small smirk, reminding her of when Falin used to complain that Laios had been terrible to house train after the army and that she still needed to keep the room presentable, but leave it to Laios to actually take criticism and work on it. Even then, the mention of Falin brought back memories of earlier in the day. This wasn’t the time to be all casual.

“Laios, about our last conversation...” she straightened her back and took a deep breath, Laios nodded. “You’re right. I did betray your trust. Well, I betrayed everyone’s. But yours and Falin’s especially.” they both fidgeted. “I was wondering... hoping, that there would be a way for me to make amends.”

“I don’t know Marcille. I hope there is. But it’s becoming very hard to trust anything you say.” he seemed displeased with the words coming out of his mouth, but his eyes were painfully honest.

“Well, I think I may have just the thing!” Marcille replied with fake pep, pulling out one of the books she found at Thistle’s. “There’s this spell, a blood oath. Practically unbreakable and very thorough. It would compel me against speaking any falsities or from knowingly omitting things that could affect the other party! I don’t mind pledging it to both of you, after all, I really meant it when I said I wanted to never lie to you two ever again!”

“Marcille...” Laios looked devastated, his shoulders had slumped, she could barely look him in the eye.

“It’s not Ancient Magic, don’t worry, no otherworldly help required, it’s just-”

“Marcille!” the commanding roar of the King broke through her protective ramble. She looked back in shame. “Stop! Just stop. If that’s what you came here to offer, just get out!” He no longer looked disappointed, it had all dissolved into anger and pain. “I don’t want to have our entire relationship be built on a leash. Is it really so hard to trust me that you’d have to brainwash yourself to?!” he sounded insulted, hurt. Far more than before. Maybe even more than Falin. Marcille panicked.

“No, Laios, please! I just... I wanted to show you how far I am willing to go!” she grasped onto his cape, laying her forehead against his chest. “Please! I... I just want one more chance. I don’t want to... I can’t lose you Laios!” her tears wettened the lion’s skin, the thing that had brought them closer also catalysing all that kept them apart.

“Then stop hurting yourself! Stop suggesting new ways to hurt yourself as if that’ll make things better! It’s just as painful for us to see you like this!” Laios did not push her away like she expected. Instead, warm droplets began finding their way into Marcille’s scalp. She couldn’t help but look up. Laios’ face had lost all semblance of anger, his watery eyes just looked so very hurt. This had been the first time he had seen Laios cry for anyone but Falin. She didn’t feel worthy of that honour.

“I don’t want to see you cry because of me...” she reached out to his cheeks and wiped away his tears. He took her hand.

“Then tell me why. Really, why. I want to believe I know you to be better than to hide all of this because ‘I had too much on my plate’.” he asked, no, begged, she felt him try to grasp at anything that could return them to where they had been before. She hoped he felt her doing the same.

“I didn’t want you to think I’m a burden. To... to hate me. I had betrayed you not even a month prior, I had nearly ended the world because of a childish tantrum, and then I’d just come crawling at your feet crying about how I was being hunted down for it. You’ve done enough for me Laios. The only thing I’ve ever wanted since that day is for you and Falin to be able to smile freely. To be able to be a part of that happiness. That’s all I needed. Because...” she paused. And then knew.

This was it. This is the moment. It must be now. Even if he wouldn’t believe her. Even if he may never feel the same. She would be betraying his trust if she didn’t say it. How could she ever do that again? After all, she...

“I love you, Laios.”

The grasp on her heart faded, the weight of the world bore down on her no longer, her tears stopped flowing. Regardless of what he would answer, she was content. This was the last thing she kept from him, from herself. And the last thing she ever would.

His expression was unreadable to her. He had stopped crying, which she loved, and his eyes were wide with disbelief and shock, his mouth mouthed several unheard questions, or maybe responses, but it always seemed to reset. She couldn’t tell how he was assimilating the information. This was just the worst possible timing to do this after all. So, even as she smiled at him with all the serenity and adoration that the confession had granted her, she dared not push any further. They stood there in silence for what seemed like an eternity before she broke it.

“I know how this sounds! Using love to manipulate is one of the oldest tricks in the book. But you know how much of a romantic I am! I’d never be abl-”

Her lips suddenly felt wet. She blinked. Laios’ eyes were no longer staring back at her. He had pulled her in again, hadn’t he? But this time, he cradled her with both his arms, his head had lowered to meet her height and then he had quietly, gently, laid his own lips on hers. She expected to feel overwhelmed. Make a fool out of herself. But if she even blushed, she didn’t feel it. She just let it wash over her and cradled him back as best she could.

She felt his mouth open, and her heart skipped a beat. So daring! He licked her lips and her ears flapped. Her mouth started to open until... he broke away? He licked her cheek?! Her nose?!

“Laios, what are you doing?!” she screamed, pushing back with all her might. Even with her small frame, she caught him unawares and threw him back first into his bed. He looked as baffled as her as they both huffed and gasped for air. “What was that?!”

“You said you l-loved me! So, I thought you wouldn’t mind...” he looked like a deer struck by a flare, his eyes as boggled as they were when she confessed.

“You just started licking me like a dog! I... I love you yes, but you have to warn me before you dump that kind of fetish on me!” she hated how okay she would have been with it had he asked. It was just something you’d not be surprised to hear him ask, but to just do that to someone?

“Oh. So, I did something wrong there. Sorry, your books didn’t really go into detail as to what ‘kissing with your tongue’ amounted to. It’s not something we did on our village.” now it was her turn to be completely baffled. He was completely honest, she could tell.

“How did you even read... forget about it.” she shook her head and focused again. She had gone too far to stop now. Pushing back all hesitation, she climbed onto the bed, onto his lap, as the object of her affection swallowed hesitantly. “Laios, I need you to tell me something first. Do you love me?”

“Yes...” he whispered.

“Say it, please. I need to know.” she could feel the hypocrisy in her of all people asking someone else to be sincere, but she couldn’t make herself take that step otherwise.

“Marcille. I’m terrible at understanding people, myself included, but this, I know for sure."

"I love you.”

Laios confessed with a soft gleam in his oh-so-honest eyes, and her heart knew this was the one. Now, only one thing was left.

“So, how far did you read to only know how to do that?” she teased, caressing his cheek while looking at his shelf again. Under a better angle of the moon, she could tell those were her missing volumes too. That sneaky Falin.

“Well, I was at volume ei-” and then Marcille pounced, just as his mouth opened wide to pronounce eight. She just wanted payback for the ambush he had planted on her.

She both licked his lips and met them with her own before moving in to caress his still unmoving tongue. He seemed to take the hint and matched her movements, the king and his court wizard melting into each other under the moonlight. Marcille grasped at his hair, scratching at his nape playfully as the tall-man reached for hers, playing with her flaxen hair in a manner much more caring than she’d ever seen him handle anything else, even monsters. He hadn’t even reached for her new ears, he was focused on what made her, her. It made her want to give him more. So she reached deeper with her tongue. She felt her tongue touch something strange, small and wiggly, before it was Laios’ turn to push her back.

He was gagging in-between breaths and Marcille felt like she should just crawl under his bed and never leave.

“Is... that how it’s supposed to go?” Laios asked after a while to recompose himself. Marcille was still leaning over him, but she broke eye-contact and admitted it.

“I... Well, the book said that he went ‘deeper into Uriale’s mouth’, so I thought I was doing fine...” she peaked back in and saw him in utter disarray. She expected him to snap back at her for making the same mistake as him, but he seemed genuinely desperate for some reason.

“Wait, you never kissed before?!” he covered his mouth and bowed his head in apparent shame. “I stole your first kiss?! I’m the worst!”

“I guess you did but... I can’t say I minded it? It was quite romantic really. You had great timing! I even got so jealous that I tried to outdo it!” this felt... right. The way she could freely say such things around him, the way his eyes lit up more and more as she spoke. This is how they should be. “I guess this is your first too?”

“I never really had a partner. Not many girls in the army and I, personally, don’t see much in guys.” he said meekly, even if he probably deduced that this fifty-year-old-woman had never done the same.

“Now, now, I don’t mind. I like it, actually. I wouldn’t have minded not being the first to have you but isn’t this sooooo romantic?! We’re each other’s firsts! Kissing under the moonlight. Oh my, you’re even a king and I’m a peasant. This isn’t how I pictured my first at all, but it’s so much better!” she knew she could ramble to him, she loved how amused he looked at her starry eyed rattling. She loved a lot of things about him now that she was willing to admit it.

“Thank you Marcille. You’re the first person I feel this... free around.” Laios illuminated her world with his smile before laying his head on her shoulder. She returned the favour by laying her chin on his hair, smelling the lavender that she was sure her mother used to keep them all clean. “Though, I’m a bit scared to fumble again.”

“Oh, you will, and that’s alright. I will too. We’re new to this after all.” the newly minted couple pulled away to look into each other’s eyes again.

“I guess we’ll just have to figure it out as we go.” Laios closed his eyes a leaned in tandem with his other half.

“Yeah... like we’ve been doing since we met.” Marcille met him in the middle as both breathed one final word.

“Together.”

Chapter 11: A Legendary Flambé

Chapter Text

-*-

“Just five more minutes Mamma…” Marcille was glad she had bought that giant hedgehog plush with her Court Magician money. It was so big, so soft, it’s quills so refreshingly ticklish. She loved how warm it was. How it stroked her hair. How it pulled her in and- wait.

Waitwaitwait!

Piercing through all her usual morning sloth, a pair of green eyes were burst open and found that… she could see nothing really. Just fur. Beige fur. Lion’s fur.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”

-*-

Even as Laios’ ears cried out for mercy, the king still felt like the luckiest man in the world. To have someone so prim, so reticent and secretive to a fault like Marcille truly, fully let her guard down with him was already a prize like little others in his life. But to have her true, unfettered desire to be to spend the night in his arms… his heart still could barely be contained by his chest.

Now, it was rather clear she didn’t quite remember the details, what with how she had just wiggled her head out of his chest and now stared at him in complete bewilderment, but moments like this were what made Marcille, Marcille. Always in control but a ball of disarray at any stumbling block.

“Good morning, my love.” Laios said in his best seductive impression. Okay, that felt weird, save that for more intimate moments.

Or not. Somehow, he had tamed the cyclone that threatened to consume him with just two words. His Court Magician’s ears all stood on end and blood flooded her cheeks as she held his gaze.

“B-Buongiorno, amore mio…” she replied, her shame melting into a heart-stopping smile. Laios didn’t really understand her local language yet (he had bought a book recently, so he understood the morning greeting!) but he felt what she meant. Maybe he’d use that instead! Could be their little code. “Oh, sorry! I default back when I’m with… people I love.”

It just didn’t feel real to him yet. He had feared for all to have been a dream. They could have reconciled and cried to sleep on each other’s arms, and he just imagined the rest, it wouldn’t be the first time he did. But this was the final nail. They were a couple. Someone besides Falin had finally accepted him. Before he knew it, his eyes had watered again.

“You’re crying again. I’m really bad at this…” Marcille mumbled, springing Laios into action. He kissed her forehead and shook his head, reassuring her as best he could.

“I’m just really, really happy. It’s not something I’m used to. Especially around other people.” She seemed to believe him, leaning the side of her head back on his chest. She seemed to take in the moment too, a few minutes passing before she asked:

“Did… we sleep together?” Laios found that such a strange question. Maybe she was worried he couldn’t fall asleep with her stuck there?

“Yes, don’t worry too much. You were the best partner.” he replied with a knowing nod. It was like having a big pillow to hug, but way better.

She started hyperventilating.

“W-w-e had...” she covered her face with her hands and screamed again. It finally clicked for the bigger of the two dolts.

“No! Marcille, we literally slept together! That’s it! You told me to not let go and fell asleep on my arms. I had to roll the outer blankets over us!” stupid brain and its stupid priorities not being able to sort out what she meant.

The screaming was replaced with laughter. It was a relieved laughter, and her now free hands were meekly pounding his chest, but she was laughing all the same. What a beautiful sound it was.

“Oh, to think I chose you... I’m glad we only went that far though,” as she said it, Laios felt a twinge of disappointment. “I would hate to forget our first.” And now he was burning up.

“Wow, I... thought you’d take things slower.” considering how the Daltian Clan had, apparently famously, ended on a cut to black on the last volume when going into intimacy, he expected the courting process to take about as many years as that thing had novels.

“It’s all about the time and place. For when the stars align no mortal should dare to refuse the dance!” She declaimed, clearly from a passage that he had not gotten to yet. “But yes, let’s hold our horses. I am quite old-fashioned I’m afraid.”

“Hard to tell,” he mocked getting a shift chop to his nose in return. “I’m just glad to be like this to be honest. Though... I do have a request I’ve had stored up for a while now.”

“I guess I’m in no position to refuse outright. What would that be?”

“Can I touch your ears now? Or is it still too personal?” He asked, Marcille narrowing her eyes in response.

“Which?” She questioned, a fair question now that Laios thought about it. He couldn’t deny he was curious, but for once… monsters took second stage.

“Your ears.” He emphasized, though he was not able to hold back enough. “Though, I wouldn’t mind both pairs. But I really- “she put a finger to his lips.

“No pulling or pinching.” She made clear while pouting. Laios just laid there, he didn’t actually expect to get this far. “C-Come on, before I change my mind!”

Swallowing dry, Laios raised his right hand and carefully reached towards the treasure he had been denied all those months back. Marcille shivered just a bit once his fingers brushed the brim of her ear and her eyes looked away as her blush grew.

“So soft…” he whispered to her as he lined his fingers through the thin appendage, up to the rounded tip. He noticed how easily it moved and bent, unlike his own. They really were different, for good or ill. Laios thought this particular difference was lovely though. He caressed the rounded tip of the ear to send a message, that she was no lesser for that, but what he got instead was a… gasp. Or even…

“That part’s off limits still!” She desperately cried out, covering her ears again. Laios pulled back. His curiosity was sated… for now. “Not going to do the dog ears?”

“Dog ears?” Laios raised both eyebrows.

“That’s what Scyllas are, right? Like, Demi-human dogs?” She asked and it all made sense to him. She was still working under the impression these were what she had in the dream!

“Actually Marcille, these are clearly feline ears.” Laios proudly proclaimed. “You see, ours, and dog’s ears have our ear canal start from the side of the head, but yours is aimed upward. Very catty. And just to be sure.” He absentmindedly handled the ear to check for its composition. “Yup… that’s rather solid compared to most dog ears. Definitely a cat!”

It was only then that he noticed the completely flushed expression from the girl in his arms, and how she had had to cover her mouth during the second half of his rant. “S-Sorry! I got carried away.” He mentally kicked himself.

She took a long, deep breath and recomposed herself.

“You sure did… but that’s strange. The more I learn about these changes the less I understand them.” Marcille said, looking like she was already returning to work mode. What a worrywart.

“Maybe it’s because it suits you better?” He got a weird look in return. He wasn’t sure if it was because of his reaction or because of the comparison. “It’s just that if I had to compare you to an animal, it definitely wouldn’t be a dog. You’re haughty, a bit prideful, very picky and easily angered.” She seemed ready to claw his eyes out, how very catty indeed. “But when you let someone get close, after a lot of attempts mind you, you’re warm, loyal, affectionate, and clearly very cuddly. You’re like a big cat. Can I try scratching your ears?!” Aaaaand he just had to let that one slip, didn’t he?

Marcille just groaned in return, looking away, but the small flaps on her ears betrayed her attempt at looking mad.

“It’s unfair how charming you can be by accident. I have to work for it!” She buried herself into his chest after saying: “Just a couple.” Laios reached to the back of her head and started scratching. At first, Marcille froze, but as he passed all the prickly, newly altered cartilage, she started to do shiver. Then, after a moment of holding something back, she... purred. Laios immediately stopped, but she did pull away. If anything, she grabbed onto his clothes so that she wouldn’t have to face him.

“That was c-”

“Don’t say it! I might die!” Marcille cried out against his chest. She was so red she looked like she had the mother of all fevers.

“Sorry! It’s just the first time I made a cat purr. They usually hate me.” Laios was reminded of all the times Izutsumi ran away from his grasp. Surely, it was because of her cat side, right?

“I am not a cat!” Marcille protested, finally pulling away, yet still as red as ever. “And of course they hate you, you’re just a huge dog! You even licked me like one!”

“Well, of course you aren’t one. You love me, right?” he puffed out his chest, proudly knowing that he, for once, was on the winning end of a battle of words. Marcille bore her fangs (unfortunately not real fangs, just normal teeth) and pulled his head further in.

“You’re enjoying this a bit too much. I guess I’ll have to shut you up.” she threatened him with a good time. Much to his dismay, he wasn’t as used to this as he briefly believed himself to be, because the moment she licked her lips, he was as frozen as Falin had been before the feast. Still, she pulled him further in. He closed his eyes and:

“Quickly, His Majesty’s life may be in danger!”

Kabru’s voice snapped them both to reality. Laios did somewhat remember a knocking noise waking him up, but he was too busy with, well, this, to ever remember that.

“L-Laios, you locked the door, right?” Marcille stuttered in disarray, already looking around for a place to hide in. Laios nodded. He just needed to give her time to...

“Lady Marcille wasn’t in her room either! Assassins may have snuck in!” Pattadol was not helping, not helping at all! “Lord Tims, you have to.” Oh no.

“On it!” Laios could feel the determination on Chilchuck’s voice. That lock wasn’t going to last a minute. Laios pulled in one direction, Marcille pulled in another. They did not move. The covers! They were too entangled in them!

“I-I am alright! I’ll open the door soon!” he cried out, trying and failing, horribly, to sound natural. It didn’t help that in the ongoing battle with the covers Marcille had knocked down one of his vases and shattered it.

“Gods damn it, it must be another doppelgänger!” Kabru yelled, banging on the door before Chilchuck yelled back to “let him work”.

Laios got desperate. He saw that the covers were all lined up in one direction, so he twisted his entire body with all his might on opposite direction, sending the couple rolling across the bed. It worked! Until it didn’t. Yes, they had successfully unfurled the sheets and blankets... but they failed to stop themselves, quickly entangling themselves again and, as if that wasn’t bad enough, careening off the bed. Laios did his best to land first, doing so back first on the ground, so that Marcille wouldn’t be crushed by his much larger frame. A small victory it was, because it came with hitting the back of his head so hard that Marcille immediately reached to cast a healing spell on it. And then, moments after, the lock finally lost its battle and the door was nearly thrown off its hinges.

The image of the Court Magician entangled in the King’s sheets, straddling him while caressing the back of his head... was burnt into the retinas of all that witnessed it.

Marcille looked back in abject horror. Laios looked up, still in too much pain to mount much of an expression. Kabru’s eyes opened so wide they became two huge blue orbs. You could physically see Chilchuck’s soul leave his body. Yaad quickly looked away and pretended to have a coughing fit. Madeline, of course she was there, started giggling like a schoolgirl and hopping in place. Namari, meanwhile, it felt like fate had conspired against them to have her be at the castle for some reason. She was just about to burst into cackles by the way. Pattadol just... fainted.

“Ah, to be young and foolhardy.” Senshi mumbled, being the only one that be acting naturally with what had happened.

“This isn’t what it looks like!!!!” Marcille’s voice had somehow transcended the yell that had probably gotten them caught. If only it was as convincing as it was ear bleeding.

-*-

It took a few minutes to get them freed, Marcille wasn’t exactly cooperative, she was too busy trying to rip Namari’s eyes out for every lascivious comment she made. A very tiny part of her was glad that they had gotten over the hump of telling all of their closest friends and coworkers about their newly formed relationship, well, with a couple of two very important exceptions. But that was indeed a very tiny part. The majority of her was considering using forbidden memory erasure on them.

“So, what is this supposed to look like then?” Kabru pinched the tip of his nose and shook his head at the question. “Because from where I’m standing, my King just appointed someone to the highest position of the court, behind my back, and then proceeded to bed her.”

“We’re still wearing clothes Kabru!” Laios protested, Namari making a comment about that hardly being a problem in the background while Kabru pushed back.

“I don’t care if you did it yet Laios, I care that you’re clearly not respecting the workplace relationship code!” he exclaimed, Chilchuck vehemently agreeing from the background.

“You’re the last one that I want to hear that from, Mister Screwed-Half-the-Island! Do I need to remind you of that time when you nearly seduced your own party member’s husband?!” she was glad for gossiping with Rin. Finding dirt on Kabru was not easy, and she needed all that she could get to keep up since, by comparison, she was nothing BUT dirt.

“One, none of those were coworkers, and two, that was on accident and nothing happened!” it didn’t matter how he defended himself, his credibility had been shot.

“Well, as long as this is a proper relationship and not a prelude of our king being a philanderer, I have no problems with it for now.” Yaad added, joining Senshi in the ‘people too old to make too much of a fuss club’ that she wished her mother was a part of. “Just know that a pre-emptive official announcement is far more preferable to word spreading before one. We don’t want the public to think it’s a reactionary relationship.”

“My little girl has learned from her mother’s mistakes. I am so proud of you!” Madeline was already on her second handkerchief since she arrived. “And the old codger is right, you have to tell the entire country that man is your amante!” Maybe they were far more similar than Marcille hoped.

“You’re surprisingly quiet.” Marcille groaned at Namari just eating pistachios by the door.

“I don’t need to do anything to be amused. You really got that wild animal in you girl; I never saw it coming.” Namari said, behind her cheshire grin being the rare time where Marcille actually felt her holding back for her sake. How strangely considerate. This was the easiest gag on her expense that she may ever have after all. Hopefully.

“As... joyous as the occasion is. I’m going to see if our patient has already come to. Madeline, care to join me? I may need you to force him to wake up.” Pattadol commented, using he door to steady herself back on her feet.

“Of course. You all should come by the way. Can share details on the way to the infirmary!” Her mother’s voice was a tiny bit more serious when suggesting them to go, so, against her better judgement, Marcille agreed. They just had to get their clothes to a presentable state, so they waved the group off. Okay, they really didn’t need to do much with their clothes, but she would not give her mother the satisfaction of gossiping on her own daughter's first kiss.

She picked up Ambrosia and got ready to go, but then something pressured her right ear. Something very similar to...

“Laios!!!” she slapped the man off her back, her scream sounding more like a squeal, but it was too late, he had gotten what he had come for. “Did you just bite my ear?!”

“I just wanted to make sure the rumours that they are just like goat ears are well and truly fake.” Laios replied with a self-contented smile. “I can safely say, they have no idea what they are talking about. They feel, and taste, far better! Or maybe it’s just you.” Before, she’d have attributed this to obliviousness, but Laios had just showed her he knew what his actions meant. She didn’t know if he was teasing her or being honest, but she knew, he knew, this was intimate.

Marcille then knew she had the worst taste known to man, because she was reduced to a blubbering mess after that realization. The only thing that saved them was a lone skinning knife, conspicuously attached to Chilchuck’s hand, starting to sneak its way into view from the doorway. It was time to go. She took Laios’ hand and begrudgingly, but happily, ran to the others with him in tow.

-*-

“Mithrun was your patient?!” Laios questioned, way too desperate for Marcille to not realize he had some hand in it. Thankfully for the kingdom, the former Canary Captain seemed none the worst for wear. Well, not any more than usual. Kabru looked way more affected for finding him in a medical bed than he did.

“The guards found him passed out on the gates.” Pattadol explained, though she also noted. “But there were no injuries. Captain, did you just pass out from mana sickness again.”

“Hardly. Our King’s sister caved my chest in.” he stated matter-of-factly, still lacking any sense of tact.

“Falin wouldn’t do that! It must be another doppelgänger!” Marcille replied, no having believed a single word of what he said. Not until she met his gaze head-on. He was serious.

“If she were, she would not have healed me right as I was losing consciousness.” he explained, and suddenly the atmosphere became a lot heavier.

“Explain.” Laios hissed, not seeming to believe it even then.

“I was tracking her, like you ordered, she caught me, told me to stop, I tried to bring her back, she pushed me away, broke most of my upper skeleton, looked scared, apologized, healed me, I passed out from the pain. Is that clear enough?” Marcille had heard of cutting to the chase, but this was just... embarrassingly lackadaisical.

“You tried to bring her in?!” Laios stalked towards Mithrun an got up and close with him. “You almost deserved what you got! She’s grieving!”

“Frankly, Your Majesty, I don’t care. My job is to keep people alive, and wandering the wilderness is the furthest thing from safe one can do when you’re actively being targeted.” of all emotions for Mithun to have regained full expression of, it had to be anger, Marcille cursed.

“Let’s not get heated. Laios, you know what this means right? If she dropped Mithrun off at the gates instead of coming back... she may not be planning to come back at all.” Kabru interjected, swiftly putting an end to the brewing conflict.

“She wouldn’t do that...” Laios attempted to state, but it came off as wishful thinking.

Maybe I am going to wake up tonight and be stuck in a prison of my own body’s making again.

“Laios is right. She wouldn’t do that.” Marcille finally spoke up. She wanted to trust Falin. She would trust Falin. She wouldn’t run away, she wouldn’t do that to Laios, not after all he sacrificed for her. “She’s afraid of what she did. She didn’t come back because she doesn’t want to hurt us.”

“That does sound like Falin.” Chilchuck agreed while scratching his forehead angrily. “I don’t know how this helps though! She clearly needs help, and I think she knows it.”

“When Falin made a mistake, or was bullied by some kids back home, she would...” Laios began reminiscing, Marcille looked up to Laios as he said it, it was just like back at the Academy.

“Go to a place where only I could find her!” she remembered finding her in their own little dungeon after failing a class or accidentally insulting a professor by breaking courtesy, or when other students were mean to her. Laios nodded back to her with reignited will. “But where would that be in Melini...”

Their little dungeon.

“I got it!”

-*-

It was a good thing the hillside they were looking for was within eyesight of the castle. It made it simple to ask her mother to teleport her as close to their destination as she could as to avoid having to explain to the citizens why her king and court wizard had sprouted new parts. Normally you’d only be able to use teleportation magic to pre-established locuses, or to places you were familiar with, but it was a lot easier to get around those limitations if you could see the location. Marcille needed to conserve mana in case Falin needed her.

It was a bit strange though. The moment they had been teleported out of the city, even despite her not spending any mana, she felt like she had less at her disposal. Still, she pushed on and lead Laios to the trap door of the Mausoleum.

“So, this is where you guys went hunting behind my back.” Laios still sounded a bit hurt because of that, which was just like him. “You could have told me about this earlier.”

“We just got a formal map of the mausoleum from Zon recently, and no, we couldn’t, because the King can’t leave the city every time he fancies!” Marcille scolded, poking his side with Ambrosia. “Emergencies like this are an exception.” The labyrinth shook from top to bottom.

“Was it like this when you first came here?” he asked, Marcille shook her head. They wouldn’t have dared to risk being buried alive if it had these quakes when they did. This was the third that hit the tunnels ever since they made their way through the trap door.

“I think Falin may be the cause...” she didn’t like voicing that, but they had to be ready for the worst. Laios coldly nodded as they arrived at the place where they had once battled the minotaur. A hall housing the gilded tombs.

“You’re right, this feels like a miniature version of the Island’s dungeon.” Laios commented as they entered the room. There was one, rather conspicuous difference from last time, however. One, massive hole where the northmost door once was. “That would explain the quakes...”

“Let’s go Laios, whatever happened to her, she needs us.” Marcille said as resolutely as she could. If she feared anything, it was that she had burned that precious bridge.

-*-

The tomb of the ancient king was immaculate beyond the dust from the broken in door. Marcille could feel the lingering traces of the temporal magic used to keep these in stasis. But what really caught both of their eyes was the... ostentatiousness of it all. For one, it lived up to the name of the Golden Kingdom. Golden floors and walls, a golden tomb with a golden tombstone surrounded by, what else, but golden statues of not only the king, but all of his family. The same family that they had seen in the living paintings... this was Dergal’s father’s tomb.

“Thistle’s a bit too loving for someone who tried to kill us about a dozen times in half a dozen days.” Marcille mummed, but it was like she didn’t even have a partner by her side. Laios was focused on one thing and one thing only. Lascivious paintings, pillars of diamond, treasure chests no doubt full to bursting with jewels, none of it mattered. The only treasure he was after was his family. Marcille followed in his example. They scoured the tomb, Marcille standing in attention as Laios opened up even the chests, in case they were mimics, they opened the tomb to find an eerily well conserved corpse, and just slowly made their way to the back. And then they saw her.

Standing atop a mountain of gold coins, like the tales of dragons hoarding wealth from the poor, staring at the remnants of a broken mirror, was Falin. Marcille wondered why the mirror was broken, Falin seemed to like her leftover monster parts. But her brother, yet again, cared not for details here.

”Falin…” Laios called, gently, softly. Falin didn’t move. The two them took a step forward, raffling the gold coins on the ground.

“Stay away!” Falin yelled, her voice cracked and hoarse from what must have been hours of crying. While at the time they had no idea of the struggles she had encountered, Marcille felt the crushing guilt of having spent a night of bliss while Falin rotted away in a crypt like this. Laios seemed just as pained, even as he ignored her cries and started climbing the mountain. “I said… STAY AWAY!” her voice quaked the entire underground like a dragon’s roar, scattering coins wildly. More than one hit Laios, causing small cuts across his face. Falin recoiled in terror at what she had done, holding her mouth shut between her hands. Marcille had seen her mana spike erratically for the roar, but it never truly went away. It was always there, like an ever-kindled flame around Falin. It seemed like Marcille’s guess was correct. Falin can’t shut her mana flow off anymore. “Or else I’ll hurt you…”

“You’ll be hurting us a lot more if you keep pushing us away. We’re here to help you Falin.” Marcille answered as calmly as she could as the two trudged through the long dead monarch’s hoard. That did get a look from Falin, even if not a hopeful one.

“You would know.” she spat, far more disappointment than aggression in her tone.

“Yeah. Better than anyone. And that’s why I’m not letting you go down that path.” Marcille replied with a deep sigh, resigned but determined at the same time. “If you can’t forgive me I’ll... I’ll understand. But Laios has done nothing wrong by you. Honestly, for a time I’m pretty sure all he thought about was your safety. You have to give him a chance!” she wanted to say she would accept it, but that would be a lie. It would haunt her for the rest of her life. But it was Falin’s choice to make, and her choice was to never lie to them again. Falin’s mouth twisted in a way she couldn’t get a read on.

“I don’t agree with Marcille throwing herself under the carriage like that, but she’s right about one thing. You need help Falin. Let us take care of you.” Laios was as truthful and dedicated as her, but for some reason, Falin’s expression brows only furrowed more and more.

“Take care of me, huh...” she mimicked, hand grasping a handful of coins. Marcille and Laios shared a confused look. “I need help? I have to give him a chance?! You’re not letting me go down that path?!” she tossed the coins into the wall, metal piercing through the enchanted gold like a knife through butter with the sheer force of the throw. “Why are you always like this?! Even after all we’ve been through. Even after all I told you. Why do you still treat me like a child?!”

This... caught Marcille on the back foot. She had no defence against this. She thought Falin enjoyed being coddled, like she did for all those decades. A stupid assumption in retrospective given their last talk before Laios’ birthday. Maybe that was just her image of what Falin should be to her.

“Falin, that isn’t what this is about.” Laios tried to steer the conversation back into this situation, but as soon as Falin stood back up, all three knew this was inevitable.

“This is what it’s always been about Laios! All my life, I was just a little flower that had to be protected, taught, guided! I am not even talking about our parents. I’m talking about you two! The only people I truly trusted!” she started walking down the hoard, with each step feeling more and more human, but also making her rage more and more her own. “Falin, you don’t know how to talk well yet, I’ll name the dogs. Falin, I’ll give you a cheat sheet for the theoretical test. Falin, stay at the back while we fight the Red Dragon. Falin let me do this. Falin I’ll help you do that.” her brow unfurled as rage subsided into sorrow.

“Falin, I’m going to put a target on my back for the entire world to see to bring you back. Falin, I’m going to become a monster to bring you back. Falin, I’m not even going to tell you that people want me dead so that you can leave. Falin, I’ll take a wife I probably won’t love so that you don’t have to produce an heir and can leave.” as much as that final one was new to Marcille, it didn’t matter. These were all good things... right? All noble things. Like the heroes in a story.

Then why did it feel so wrong to put herself in Falin’s shoes?

“Even now, as we all face the same curse, it’s all about poor little defenceless Falin..!”

“You don’t get to pull that card on us! You ran away without saying a thing! You hid in a dungeon after... knowing what happened to you last time you were in one!” Laios screamed back. The only times Marcille remembered him being like this were when she was dying, or when the group had disagreed on eating Falin. A real look of anger and desperation. “You’re just as much at fault here as us!”

“Yes! Then get angry at me! Scream at me! Hold me accountable!” she screamed back in an eerily similar fashion. Both Toudens were mere inches away from each other, looking at each other like Marcille had never seen them do before. “Make me feel like I have to earn your love. I don’t want to be your burden just because we share the same blood! I don’t want to be Marcille’s burden just because everyone else at the Academy thought I was a freak! Don’t you understand? The only thing I ever wanted...” she tears finally broke through her façade. She fell on her knees.

“Was to be your equal.”

Marcille kneeled down next to her as Laios stood there and looked as if he had to process his entire life again. Maybe because of all she had gone through lately, she felt like she understood. Not how Falin felt, just how she had felt. How she had wronged her.

“You know, Falin. I never had siblings. I never even really had friends before you.” she began laying her right on top of her left like she had many times before. She was happy that Falin didn’t pull back. “So, when I found you. When you smiled back at me. I knew I had to keep you safe. Forever. You were my storybook princess. I think Laios felt the same way.” she looked up at Laios, who seemed oddly despondent. “This... isn’t an excuse. I was thirty-five years old when I met you. Half-Elf or no, I should’ve known better about the real world. Maybe when you were a ten-year-old ball of insecurities, you needed it, even if you hate to admit it now.”

“I... I did not!” it was a meek response. “And even if I did, that was not for you to decide!”

“Yes. I understand now. But, like Laios said, you’re not exempt from guilt here. Did you ever express your distaste for how we treated you?” It hurt Marcille more than a bit to pull that card on Falin after what had happened a day before, but Falin seemed to be starting to understand where she was getting at. How annoyingly similar they were even in a situation like this.

“I wanted to earn my place next to you. I thought that if I tried hard enough I’d… you’d both see me that way.” She admitted, lowering her head and leaving the similarities unsaid.

“Sounds like we all could benefit from some coaching in speaking out. Maybe I should ask Mamma, she’s infuriatingly open about everything after all.” Marcille joked, trying to lighten the mood as she reached towards Falin. She pulled back. It wasn’t that easy, was it?

“I don’t… want help. I can’t ask for any more help. If I keep doing it, then… then…”

“Falin. There’s nothing more mature than asking for help.” Laios finally rejoined the conversation, joining his family in kneeling. “If there’s a lesson we all had to learn to rescue you it was that. Maybe we suffocated you before, but if you just close yourself off, you’re just going to end up being a deadbeat like Chilchuck. And even he grew out of that!” Laios managed to finally touch Falin as well, patting her on the head like how he had done so many times before. “Tell you what, you let us help you and we’ll let you help us. Sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

“Nothing says equals more than having each other’s back!” Marcille added, nodding along with a goofy smile.

“You… you guys…” Falin shook Marcille and Laios’ hands off her shortly falling into their arms, a very different set of tears running down the youngest Touden’s face. “I’m so sorry! For the things I told you Ma- Sister. For running away from you Brother!”

Now that was enough to call forth the waterworks from Marcille herself.

“It’s alright. We all have a lot to apologize for…” her sister replied as Marcille and Laios returned her embrace. They were finally together again.

“And a lot to tell you too!” Laios added, in any other situation Marcille would have clocked him, but she dared not ruin the moment. “But first, let’s get out of this smelly tom-”

Laios’ sword began to rattle, follow by another quake. This one stronger, longer, the very ground beneath them had begun to crack.

“Kensuke?! You’re still alive?!” Laios said with stars for eyes. As he rubbed his face against his sword, Marcille realized that Kensuke rattling usually meant.

“So those earlier ones weren’t you breaking in?” Marcille asked the now equally confused Falin, who, in the middle of shaking her head in refusal, answered:

“I thought you were busting through doors to look for me! I’ve been here for hours.” just as another quake hit them. The ceiling started to crack as well. All three sprung to their feet.

“Falin, sigils!” Marcille barked, beginning to inscribe runes on the floor, letting Falin draw the sigils to connect them.

“On it!” Falin nodded back with renewed energy. This time, it was Laios’ time to feel left out. “Brother, just get ready to cast a teleportation spell on our signal!” Laios nodded and took out Kensuke from his sheath and started meditating. Marcille was glad he had learned to do so under stress like she had asked him to.

Another quake hit when the girls just about finished their preparations. The ceiling had begun to collapse.

“Where to? The city?!” Falin questioned just as she finished the sigil.

“Not looking like this we can’t! Back to the entrance!” Marcille replied as the final rune was inscribed. Rocks tumbled across the room, sending coins and other riches ricocheting to them. Thankfully Laios had finished meditating fast enough to deflect them. The three shared a look and closed their eyes, visualizing the entrance to the dungeon the best we could. They weren’t familiar enough to make this a safe spell, but the more casters were involved, the lesser the risk was. Ambrosia, Kensuke and Falin’s Licht crossed in the centre of the sigil and they all chanted:

“Fliege!”

The labyrinth collapsed on the remnants of a dead empire.

-*-

The trio successfully returned to the entrance of the mausoleum with little more than an upset stomach. They breathed out in relief as the ground beneath them didn’t quake anymore, and Kensuke seemed to have calmed down too.

Then it hit again. A final earthquake followed by a a cave in a few hundred meters away, likely where the tunnels had led to underground. As the earth itself became a maw that sucked all wildlife within its vicinity, not one, not two, but eight separate roars tore through the fields outside Melini. Marcille looked on in awe and horror as eight, giant serpentine heads slowly rose from the pit, green scales stained by debris and age, all leading to the same, bulky and muscular lizard-like frame that made it’s way up the remnants of the labyrinth. Even someone like her, whose interest in monsters had been purely academical until recently, a means to her safe dungeon project, knew what a beast like that had to be.

“A Hydra...” she gawked, barely able to maintain her grasp on her staff.

“A HYDRA!” both Toudens hollered in utter bliss and admiration, Marcille could swear she could see stars manifesting around them as they giddily looked on at the cool lizard they had just found.

“Oh my gosh Laios, it’s even bigger than you told me about, just the main body is the size of the Red Dragon!” Falin told her brother while pulling on his cloak. Laios smiled the most inappropriately bright smile while scratching the small stubble he had gained for not shaving last night.

“Well, the books did say it grew for as long as it lived. They must have kept it as the guardian of that labyrinth for a heck of a long time!” Marcille cursed Thistle’s name under her breath while Laios explained that this felt just like something he’d do. “This may be the single biggest one in history, what a day to be alive!”

Without a second thought, Marcille slammed her staff on the back of both of their heads to snap them back to reality.

“You buffoons stop singing it’s praises, did you miss the part where a monster tall enough to look over our capital’s walls just rose from the ground not even a mile away from them?!” she scolded, both of the Toudens just staring back like kicked puppies. Usually, she couldn’t stay mad at them, but this was exaggerated even or them.

“Don’t worry Marcille, Hydras hate civilized places, as their main body is wide and unable to manoeuvre in them. There’s no way it will move towards our city!” Laios was so sure of himself. And maybe, he’d be right. If all eight of the heads had not already turned directly in his direction, locked eyes with him, looked into each other and just... had their body take off running in the opposite direction. Which just so happened to be directly towards the town’s main gate. Marcille just stared daggers at Laios, Falin looked disappointed. “It’s not my fault, I’m cursed, remember?!”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to handle it ourselves.” Falin outright stated. Laios and Marcille just stared back at her.

“You sure you’re alright Falin?” Laios asked, checking her for a fever.

“You want us to fight something like that ourselves?” Marcille added.

“It’s our country, isn’t it? We have to make an example of monsters that waltz into our territory!” She proclaimed, eyes fired up. Laios and Marcille shared a glance. There was definitely still some dragon on the inside too. “Plus, this is my fault too. I don’t want the guardsmen to die for a tantrum I threw.”

Marcille sighed, laying a hand on her shoulder. “I guess you only went through it because of my actions.”

“And it only woke up because I was there...” Laios let his head fall down. “I feel so bad though, it’s a one-of-a-kind specimen!”

“Well, that settles it! Hang on!” Falin threw Marcille onto a piggyback and scooped up her brother into a bridal carry and took off. The half-elf girl wept at how the most sacred of romantic acts had been soiled like this. Well, at least it was Laios getting carried.

-*-

Falin let Marcille and Laios off a hundred meters ahead of the monster, they had a good half-a-mile between them an Melini still. Truth be told, they had caught up to Hydra surprisingly quickly. Falin did run fast now, but the monster had really barely moved.

“Is it still sluggish from waking up?” Marcille wondered aloud, but of course, Laios immediately jumped in with all the confidence in the world.

“No, you see Marcille, it’s a bit like the basilisk. There are eight heads, so the amount of information they require to function is so big that it results on the rest of it being really sluggish. The heads themselves are incredibly quick though.” while he rattled off that info, Marcille facepalmed. This wouldn’t help them with the battle at all then, since if they wanted clear shots, they’d be in range of that tangle of heads.

“So... how do we kill it?” she asked, both Toudens yet again giving her stink eye. “Sorry if I don’t trust children’s tales which just say, ‘cut all of it’s heads off’! I mean, how does that even make sense, if it keeps growing their heads back?!”

“But that’s not at all the only thing they say Marcille! If you paid attention, you’d realize that they cut the heads off and cauterize the stumps! The fire stops the heads from growing back!” Falin scolded, for once, her insistence of Marcille actually giving those fables the time of day feeling warranted.

“I guess I can do that... but those necks are mighty thick though. How are we going to even cut them off?” Marcille stared at Kensuke, the slugsword was already barely being held in place by Laios, and even if it weren’t, it was no magical sword of destiny or anything like that. No human race would be able to cut a neck nearly as thick as a dragon’s with a swing of something like that.

“It has to be at the base too, so that there’s no place to grow it back from...” Laios groaned, looking at the Hydra and noting how it wasn’t trying to run away from him anymore. “Great, since I ran after her it’s on the fight part of fight or flight. Why couldn’t you just run away Hydrocitus?!”

“Don’t name it!”

“I can do it.” Falin suddenly said. She looked at her own hand and closed her eyes. “I don’t know how I know. But I feel like I have the strength for it. Like I have done it before. I’ll need a claw though...” it didn’t take a genius to know where that experience had come from after that.

“Here,” Laios handed Kensuke over to her. “Hydra bodies aren’t armoured like a dragon’s, due to their regenerative abilities. Ken should be enough.” Lot to bet on a” should”. Falin took Kensuke and smiled at eyestalks poking out of the sword. It was too scared even try to escape her hand and just retreated inward. Falin pouted.

“Thank you Laios. Here, hold Licht for me. It’s still good for a whack!” Falin told her brother with a thumbs up. Even Laios didn’t seem too confident to face a monster of legend like this with a healer’s lantern as a weapon, but, with the Hydra now nearly upon them, the trio took their stances. “Cover me.”

“I got it. Laios, draw its attention!” Marcille exclaimed, though the curse was probably already doing the job for them.

“I’m on it. Let’s go you two!” Laios then ran straight into the range of the heads, and he wasn’t kidding, the movement of the legs and of the heads as like night and day, the moment he entered its range, two heads caved in the ground in front of him, while a third took that chance to come in from above, but Falin kicked it away with shocking ease. Marcille kicked herself, of course he wouldn’t be able to do it himself, she was too used to group dynamics.

Still, no matter how many heads it had, they all had one thing in common. Eyes.

A quick incantation was followed by a burst of white light, which was enough to thankfully catch all eyes in the blast. This gave Falin enough time to run in and, in a single swing, separate one of the heads from the main body. Both her speed and strenght had long since left the realms of the human races, but currently that curse was a blessing.

“Aslam!” Marcille chanted. She had only hesitated a moment, not expecting the speed Falin did it with, but she noticed that the head was already starting to regrow by the time the fireball hit the stump. They could not give it any breathing room, could they?

“Hey, Hydrocitus! I warned you to leave!” Laios yelled to catch the head’s attention, throwing a fireball of his own. It wasn’t enough to do much more than annoy it, and Marcille cursed herself for not teaching him more offensive magic, but it was enough to divert the target back to him, even as Falin took another head and Marcille cauterized it. Now with only six heads, Laios seemed more in control. He ran to the left flank before doubling to the right one as a couple heads took the bait, then as another two did so, he ran to the middle. The leftover two heads tried to follow him but got entangled in the previous two pairs. Falin took this chance to slice a third and fourth heads from the stuck pair.

Marcille started to hear cheering from the wall as she cauterized another two stumps. She briefly looked back and saw that at least the guardsmen had gathered at the wall and were cheering them on. As much as this massaged her pride, it was bad. They had to finish this before someone stumbled on the fact that the royal family and their advisor had some unaccounted for monster parts in them.

“Marcille!” Laios called. She turned around to see that a head had detached from his taunts and headed straight for her. Before she could chant a ward, Laios slammed Licht’s lantern on the side of the beast, surprisingly diverting the strike. “Don’t worry, we can make it in time, just focus on the fight!”

“I... sorry.” seeing him standing there, with a half-dead legendary beast by his back, cape billowing in the wind and sun making his blonde hair glow like flames. Oh, it tickled her romantic side so much. She had to be just as cool as the mages from her stories too! She added a flourish to the next fireball when Falin took the chance Laios gave her to slice off the stunned head and the couple stood side by side again.

The last three heads had grown wise to the scheme and turned from the two and towards the tiny dragon running around its neck area slicing off heads. A big mistake if Marcille ever knew one. Never let a grand magus like her catch her breath. They didn’t need to worry about Falin getting caught, not by three heads, so at her beck and call, the two went through the entire explosion chant as she dodged the heads.

“Sperae yeptum rufermus alamandras proju nexant...” the same miniature sun that she created a month and a half ago at the labyrinth now floated above the two, but, be it by her growth, or for Laios’ help in keeping it in control, it’s heat seemed contained to the spell itself, not burning the surroundings like before. They took aim at the pair of necks that were still located next to one another, right at the centre of the creature. If Falin can’t make a stump for them to cauterize, they’ll do it themselves in one go. They finished the chant.

“Aslam!” a meteorite blasted off like a cannonball from above them, breaking the sound barrier and would have even knocked Marcille back to the ground if not for Laios’ holding onto her by the shoulder. It impacted on the body with a blazing inferno, the reptile roaring in pain for the first time since the battle started, something strange for Marcille. Plus, there was a strange pulsing mass hidden just below all that charred flesh. Was that it’s heart or something? But all of it was soon pushed to the back of her mind when Falin took the monster’s suffering as an opportunity to swoop in and separate it from its last head. One last fire spell from the couple and the hydra’s body, now bereft of any heads, buckled under its own weight, crashing into the fields of Melini mere inches away from Falin.

Marcille jumped onto Laios’ back with a cheer while the older Touden ran to his younger sibling to celebrate with her as well. They could hear the cheering on the wall as they ran. More than pumping Marcille’s pride, it reassured her that she hadn’t gone too far for her country to still accept her. Once they were close to Falin, she jumped off Laios and prepared to give her a hug until she... got a better look.

“Something wrong Mar?” Falin tilted her head as Laios wrapped his arms around her. Marcille gagged. You could barely see Falin beneath all that sickly green blood and viscera. She looked even less recognizable than when she had been literally reborn from blood! And Laios was hugging her!

“We... we need to get you BOTH to to a bath. Now!” she screamed, the smell of burnt flesh now assaulting her nose as well.

“You do know that not all Hydras have acidic blood, right? If Falin’s skin hasn’t melting yet, and I think she’d notice, we’re perfectly fine.” Laios explained, Marcille gawking at the fact that that had even been a possibility that they just neglected to mention. The Toudens just looked at each other and shrugged, like this was the most normal thing in the world. Marcille could even swear they were holding back a laugh, after all, what else could be making that rumbling... gargling? noise?! She turned around to the would-be corpse, just in time to see a pair of still forming hydra heads spearing through the air, less than a second away from having their jaws in range of them.

She didn’t have time to cast anything. This wasn’t like the Red Dragon, if any of them got eaten, it was very likely they wouldn’t have another chance at life again. Her lack of self-preservation left her eerily calm though. Falin and Laios had taken notice, and Falin had quickly scooped up Laios and jumped directly upwards, cleanly out of the way. Marcille could almost laugh at the fact that what was going to get her killed had been her cleanliness. She was glad though, that they had made it out. If she died here, her only regret was not realizing how she felt sooner.

If.

“You blasted idiot!” Marcille’s ears perked up when a pair of furry arms tackled her from behind, moving her out of the Hydra’s path at the very last moment.

“Tsumi!” she called even before she looked back. “You came back!”

“Because fillet’d ears is clearly terrible his job.” groaned the beast-woman whilst pulling Marcille back to her feet. “Get on.” she turned around and signalled Marcille to jump on her back. She did so, but it looked awkward, the half-elf was a bit taller after all. She had to cross her legs not to drag them on the ground. But it was needed, because there was no way she could have moved out of the way of mysterious fifth pair of hydra heads which had just shown up in time. Izutsumi ducked under one’s lunge and threw her dagger into the other incoming one's eye to get enough time to be able to dash away and out of their range. Falin landed next to as they got to safety.

“I’m sorry Mar, but I noticed Tsumi coming so-”

“I get it Falin, thanks for keeping our little king safe.” she gave Laios a smirk, enjoying how awfully self-conscious he looked on his sister’s bridal carry. “Now, what did you two say about just ‘cut off its heads and burn the stumps’?!”

The two Toudens twiddled their thumbs. Of course, their information was just as fallible as hers, they were all going off fables and hearsay. Just because they had studied them more didn’t make the sources any more viable.

“Can you three stop screwing around? It’s getting more heads back as we speak!” Izutsumi pointed out, and she was right. The heads were growing out of seemingly random parts of its body. The torso, the back, the chest. But they very much were.

“In any other situation, that would be so cool...” Laios mumbled, at least understanding the scale of the situation. “Maybe we should wait for the army?”

“No, if they have no idea how to actually kill it, they may be more trouble than help.” Falin replied, which got Marcille thinking. How would something like this die? If it could infinitely spawn heads, whichshould house the mostvital of organs, it could probably regenerate everything right? But Hydras had been killed throughout history, and were even a prey for some dragons. So there had to be a catch.

She remembered that mass pulsing where the nape would be.

“Laios. How come the heads are so in synch if the basilisk struggled to process information in-between both heads?” she asked, a leading question for her own brain to try and solve.

“That’s a good question... they should all be acting independently, but they were acting like one’s limbs would.” Laios added, and the comparison made it all fall into place. That mass. That thing...

“Laios, the Hydra must only have one brain! The heads must be decoys!” she exclaimed, finally, all those days in the morgue actually paying off for more than expanding her thanatophobia. That had been a reptile’s brain.

“That explains how it was still alive after we cut off all of its heads.” Falin nodded. The beast had returned to eight heads already, even if it had been unable to heal through the scorched flesh.

“Is that just trivia again or does that help us in any way?!” Izutsumi yelled, growing impatient. Thankfully, for once, it wasn’t.

“Tsumi, can you get me a clear shot of its back?!” Marcille asked, a devious smirk growing on the beast-woman’s lips.

“Depends on how well you can hold on!” she started to prepare for a dash while Marcille finished talking to the rest of her team.

“Laios, Falin, I’ll make an opening. Just be ready to follow up!” the Toudens nodded and there went the cat and the mage.

“Sperae yeptum...”

As soon as they entered its range again, the hydra sent all heads in the pair’s direction.

“Rufermus alamandras...”

Izutsumi weaved through the ones that came from above and let them bore into the ground. Marcille did her best to contain her flames inside the opening of her staff as she clung on to dear life.

“Hold on, our ride’s coming!” Izutsumi warned and took a big leap up, jumping over the open maw of a diagonally lunging head. The angle was enough. They could run up the neck like this!

“Proju nexant...”

Marcille raised up her staff and let the spell simmer above them as they climbed up the Hydra’s neck to get a clear look at the Hydra’s back. The other heads seemed too concerned with friendly fire to attack them as they ran up. Instead, the head that attacked them swung upwards, catapulting the duo high into the sky, where they would, presumably, be defenceless.

Instead, it gave Marcille a perfect view of the body.

“Aslam!” whizzing past all the heads that attempted to encircle their airborne prey, the fully chanted fireball found its mark on the already injured nape of the creature, blasting through its protective outer flesh, leaving behind its fully exposed vital organ. The rest was out of her hands.

“Sorry about this Laios!” Falin exclaimed, taking her brother’s leg, and swinging him around a few times for momentum before launching him the rest of the way. As ridiculous as he looked, swirling in midair, barely managing to keep hold of Kensuke, he managed to get on the Hydra’s back, and, after a short heave, brought down the blade into the brain. All the heads froze in shock, moments before Laios infused fire into the sword, blasting the organ apart. Unlike last time, the body did more than pretend to pass away, spasming and screaming an unholy screech before all heads and legs, simultaneously gave way. Laios and Falin celebrated, Marcille however, had other things in mind.

“Tsumi... how do we land?” she did not expect to be met with a carefree shrug.

“Dunno, I planned on getting up on the Hydra’s back, not... here.” the beast-woman replied, looking mighty relaxed for someone a good hundred meters in the air. “We’re cats, remember? We’re a-okay.”

“A pair of ears doesn’t magically make me able to survive a fall from any height! Also, do you have any idea how terminal velocity works?!” it was clear that neither did she know, nor did she care. But regardless, Marcille worked overtime to try and cast a slow fall spell mid fall. Most mages would not be able to do so in the few seconds allotted to them, but Marcille was not most mages. She managed to cast it just about a dozen meters away from the floor. This... would not be able to land her safely, but it would reduce it enough that she trusted Falin could heal whatever came of it. She braced for impact and then she hit... a pair of familiar arms.

“This is becoming a habit, huh?” Laios joked as he finished hampering her fall. Marcille didn’t answer. Her brain had just fried. She had fallen from the sky into a king’s, her beloved’s, welcoming arms. How wonderfully cliché! “Marcille, are you alr-” she shushed him with her mouth. It was a quick kiss, but it was enough for Izutsumi to wretch at the sight. Falin, meanwhile:

“Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh! You two! When? How?! How much have you done?! I need details! Pronto!” she examined them from head toe, practically glowing... probably because of all that weird blood on her. Laios didn’t seem surprised about her enthusiasm either. So Marcille’s suspicions were true. She was working behind her back!

Unfortunately for Falin, the telltale air vacuum of teleportation magic alerted them to the arrival of her fellow advisor and his... whatever Mithrun was.

“I’m not even going to ask how you somehow got entangled with a creature not seen in hundreds of years right outside our main gate, just put these on.” Kabru looked just... so done. Marcille could not blame him. In his position, she would too.

“Wait... did we just... in front of the entire capital?!” she finally realized, practically passing out on the spot. The non-Toudens did not betray any sympathy. “Yaad is going to kill us…”

-*-

Kabru had brought headband that, rather uncomfortably, hid her ears, which was understandable given how fast he had to have worked. Falin had just gotten a long towel that hid her entire body, thankfully easy to excuse given all the blood Laios...

“Look Marcille, I look just like that General you like so much!” the king exclaimed, cursed eye now hidden beneath an eyepatch as he now posed with one foot over a rock and pointed Kensuke skyward. She wondered if they had even read the same series. It was all wrong! The air around him, the way he talked, the way he acted, the way he looked.

“It looks horrible on you.” she blankly stated, and it was like an arrow carved itself onto his heart.

You’re just diluting your charm with something worse, I mean.

She could have said that out loud. But, it was a lot funnier to see him being comforted by his sister. At least for a bit. She needed to do something before the small army of citizens got to them.

“Tsumi.”

“I’m not going anywhere if that’s where you’re going with this.” she quickly retorted, glaring at Mithrun, who, while fully aware, did not seem to give a single damn. “Not until I have an actually competent replacement.”

“Tsumi, I don’t want a replacement. I’m alive because of you, three times over by now.” she reached out for the beast-woman’s hand and gave her a sad smile. “But if you’re angry at me for not even trying to help you that night... I understand.”

Marcille hated that she didn’t go to check if Izutsumi was alright before going to Laios all those nights ago. It hadn’t even crossed her mind. What a terrible friend she was.

“Me? You nearly died because I was too busy screwing around with Mei and her sisters! Stop making excuses for my incompetence!” Izutsumi angrily pushed her away and turned around, her voice cracking at the very end of her shouting. “I’m getting too soft for this kind of work.”

“Well, I like my friends soft and cuddly.” Marcille cracked, carefully lacing her arms around her protector and laying her head on her shoulder. She was happy Tsumi didn’t fight back again.

“You guys have such a death wish.” she tried to disguise cleaning her newborn tears with scratching her nose, but Marcille knew better. Then her nose twitched. And it twitched again. She started smelling Marcille’s hair. Then her shoulders. Then she walked around and smelled her back. “That guy’s smell is all over you. Did you two ma-”

“WHY DOES EVERYONE ASSUME THAT?!”

-*-

It was finally nighttime. Marcille was just utterly beat. Using teleportation magic, fighting a mythical monster and dealing with a crowd of adoring citizens (she did enjoy that one!) was already bad enough, but then having to scrub off all that goo that got on Falin and then on her when Laios caught her was made it worse, but nothing had been as bad as Kabru’s devilish smile as he explained how, since they had so emphatically announced their return, they had to catch up on all the subjects he had been handling for them before bed. Not to mention all the emotional turmoil, for good or bad. Unlike the day before, she just wanted her dear-old bed.

As she opened the door to her room, she found her lantern already lit.

“Welcome back Mar!” Falin happily waved, looking up from volume seventeen of her favourite series. Well, Marcille guessed she didn’t have to hit the sack immediately.

“I missed these nig- What’s he doing here?!” she screeched as she saw Laios wave from a chair on the other side of her bed.

“Oh, don’t be that way Marcille. You two are courting now! And I heard you already shared a bed. If anything, I’m the one who’s intruding!” Falin happily chided, but her naive smile didn’t reach her, very sharp and knowing eyes. How far ahead had she planned this?

“I guess a few times wouldn’t hurt...” Marcille conceded, both Touden giving a small punch to the air in return.

“Okay, so, I heard that you’ve been reading the prequel novels and I wondered-” Laios began as the three began their own private book club.

A few hours later, as discussion died down and they were back to just reading volumes on their own, Marcille knew it was best to call it a day.

“Alright you two, this was great but-”

Snore.

SNORE!

“For the love of...” she finally realized why her shoulders felt heavier all of a sudden. She had half a mind to bonk both of them away, but one, good luck waking a Touden out of a dungeon. Two, she found that she didn’t really mind having her lover and her adoptive sister’s heads leaning on her shoulders? So, she just carefully moved all of them into a better sleeping position, slipped her covers over the three of them and began to doze off.

This was fine. After all, they’re family.

-*-

“Well, aren’t you lucky?”

Chapter 12: Breaking Mochi

Chapter Text

-*-

It was chilly. She should probably say it was cold, freezing even. But the comfortable hub-hub of a theatre reminded her of better days. Of watching plays with Falin on the Academy’s scholastic city. Of the first, and last, time she saw one with her parents.

“Well, aren’t you lucky?” her voice rang out and Marcille became so tired. She kept her eyes shut, not to try and deceive that wraith, but as a sign of defiance. “Aren’t we the tricksters now? I can’t control that body of ours anymore, but you really aren’t getting out of here until I let you, so care to not waste any of our time?” That gave Marcille pause. She gave her hand the order to close, and it registered. Her body was indeed under her control. Her mind was lucid. This didn’t even feel like a dream anymore. This was... not good. Could the Toudens even wake her up like Tsumi had done?

Begrudgingly, her eyes opened. Sitting on the back of the chair in front of her, legs dangling, was the unfortunately familiar face that she saw in the mirror at her lowest times. It, as always, seemed amused. Strangely though, it also seemed to be sweating more than its fair share.

“Good, took us too long to put this show together for one of its viewers to sleep through it. Too much effort too...” the Dungeon Lord taunted through laboured breaths, smiling through jagged fangs. Were those always there? “Let me be the first to congratulate, and thank, you. I really thought we were dead-lords-walking back when we last met. I guess leave it to us to break the world to our wills.”

“Spin it however you want, but I’m not going to feel bad for still being alive. Especially when no one else got hurt for it.” Marcille retorted, a bubbling disgust for how truly thankful and impressed her mirror image seemed. “None that didn’t deserve it...”

“Well, aren’t you the impartial judge of all. Have you apologized for Doni for nearly torching him? And I think we know better than to think Fionil did this of her own free will.” the Dungeon Lord stabbed back and Marcille knew then that she was not the one with the reigns on this conversation. She closed her eyes again and faced away. “Truly, justice is blind! But enough of that, seems like my co-stars have done their convincing. I have to go prepare for my role, have some fun with our pets while I’m away.”

Once Marcille opened her eyes again she was alone in now empty, dark theatre. She considered leaving, but as long as there wasn’t anything deadly happening, it was probably best to play that wraith’s game and hope she lets her out as she had done before.

The doors at the back of the theatre opened, and from the other side stumbled a bewildered set of siblings. Marcille dismissed them as another joke by the thing that locked her here. Until they actually locked eyes with her.

“Marcille, you’re here too?!” Laios quizzed, Falin having taken the initiative and ran up to Marcille to feel her face.

“You two... are the real ones, aren’t you?” Marcille’s gasped as their feelings of worry and relief at the sound of her voice confirmed these to no longer be the puppets that were conjured to haunt her last time. But... it managed to copy her mother once, hadn’t it? Should she really let her guard do-

“Yup, it’s your amola.” Laios said with a wink. Marcille just laughed.

“I believe you. And its amore, for the record.” how could that thing ever replicate these guys’ Toudeness? The Toudens took their places on the seats on each side of her.

“So... you two have been having these dreams too?” Falin asked, but it was clear that no one in the group believed these to be simple dreams at this point. The other two nodded all the same.

“I never remember exactly what they were about. Just the one who was there.” Marcille replied, feeling the need to add. “I promise, I am not hiding anything more from either of you.”

“We believe you.” the Toudens said one after the other, Laios just a smidgeon faster. Marcille let her shoulders heave.

“I wonder if we have a nightmare colony somewhere in the castle...” Laios questioned, but it didn’t make sense to Marcille.

“At least to me, I sometimes see a flash of her face on the mirror. It had started to fade over the past month, so I thought it was just my lack of sleep.” Marcille posited and was surprised when she got an equal confirmation from the other two.

“It’s been getting more common for me personally. I was going to bring it up in the next inspection.” Laios told the two. Falin looked away.

“Well, I think you can guess why I broke that mirror in the tomb...”

Before they could discuss anything more, the stage lit up with an unnatural spotlight and the rest of the room become all the darker. Marcille and the others could no longer see each other, but her hands were soon covered by a pair of very different yet very similar ones. Toudens always paid their debts.

“Ladies and gentleman! Monsters and human! Tonight, we are joined here for a tale of a long-lost world and it’s glorious redemption!” Marcille’s own voice echoed through the theatre, all around them yet whispering in her ear all the same. Her other self waltzed onto the stage, briefly stumbling but regaining her footing with her staff’s help.

“Just get it over with...” she said between gritted teeth, knowing that she’d hear it all the same.

“A tough crowd, I see. But very well, on with the...” the Dungeon Lord croaked, looking at her hand. The way it swayed from side to side did not seem to match even the clone's mocking antics. Marcille could almost swear it's skin seemed to be changing coloration. The wraith tried to push it asside and continue her farce but... “On with the... sh-sh-ah. Ah. AAAAAAAAAH!” first, came the confusion, then came the shock, then the searing pain. All of these emotions went through Marcille’s lookalike’s voice in quick succession before she collapsed on the stage, cradling her hand as it twisted and snapped.

Marcille herself felt a sinking feeling as she started to fall into her chair, the world around them turning dark as a man very similar to Laios ran up the stage to help her ailing counterpart.

She jolted back from sleep, immediately staring at her hands. They were still her hands. She liked her teeth. They were still her teeth. For now. Falin and Laios followed her. The three sat on the bed, with one shared look realizing that not only did they remember what they had dreamt, but that they had done so together.

-*-

“We have been too lenient investigating this curse.” Marcille admonished, mainly herself. She wanted to believe this to be a gift, but she had always known that none like this came for free.

“I think we... should come clean to everyone else.” Falin mumbled as she absentmindedly re-ordered the books on Marcille’s shelf.

“You’re right it’s just... we really are giving everyone around us the work.” Marcille admitted. She had come to accept that keeping things to herself just made it worse, but it was probably still not good to have the public think their Court Magician and even the Royal Family was more trouble than they were worth. They’d have to be selective on who they told this to. They already had to keep her ears, Laios’ eye and Falin’s tail under wraps, which was fine enough inside the castle, but would be a whole lot harder when outsiders came in. “It sure is a pain we have a council meeting today. I wish I had more time to search through Thistle’s...” She sat down in front of a mirror and started trying to distract herself by messing with her hair. Laios soon was behind her.

“May I, amore tio?” he asked in his, very awkward, impression of suaveness.

“It’s mio. But you may. If I do it myself, I’ll be here for the next hour and we have a meeting to be at.” it was a strange reprieve, but as Laios began doing his best to comb her hair, her self-worth returned a bit more with every swipe. “I won’t let anything else stand in-between us.” Marcille told the two and even her reflection, despite it looking completely normal for now.

“We won’t.” Falin corrected as she jumped in to coach Laios though his work, and so, that nightmare’s claws faded from Marcille’s subconscious.

-*-

“It may have taken longer than what we all would have liked, but today, we can finally declare the first Melini Royal Council meeting to be open!” Laios declared with a ceremonial banging of the royal signet on the large tome laid upon the table. They still had to make a new signet for the kingdom, but Yaad’s would do for now.

“Let it be it be known that I, Court Magician Marcille Donato, will record every word spoken in the New Annals of Melini!” Marcille followed his lead, flipping the mostly empty book open to the section on the royal council and reaching for a quill. As sweet as it was for Laios to see her in her most unguarded state, he had to admit that there was also something captivating about her when she was in her habitat like this. It took all of his restraint to not use his newly gained permission to be close with her and maintain kingly decorum.

“And we hereby declare to bring all of our wits and knowledge to bear for it’s future,” the rest of the council finished before they all took a seat around the table.

At the head of the table was Laios and, by his insistence, now Marcille aswell. To his left side was Kabru and Yaad, the external and internal political advisors respectively, meanwhile to his right were Mithrun, the, for now, provisory head of the army and Pattadol, the elven emissary. Yaad and Kabru had made sure to tell him that just because she’s an emissary that shouldn’t make her a fixture of the council, but she had business today apparently, so a problem for another day.

The only one that hadn’t swore the oath was the cat laying behind Marcille’s chair. Apparently, she didn’t trust Mithrun to keep them safe for some reason. Izutsumi truly was a mystery.

Still, with all the formalities out of the way, Laios beat his chest for some courage, smiled as he felt Marcille encouragingly rubbing his thigh under the table and started the meeting proper.

“Considering how helpful your queen has been, why don’t you take the lead Pattadol? She wanted to address us, right?” Laios offered, Mithrun’s brow furrowing immediately. Kabru tried to look charitable, but it was clear he did not like where this was going. “If you two would rather not...”

“Your Majesty, it is your decision to make. Do not back down with such small details.” Yaad scolded and the King slowly nodded. This was going to take a lot of getting used to.

“I thank you, Your Majesty. Before I call upon my liege, may I invite in those that she requested to be present?” the former canary replied. While Laios’ first instinct was to ask someone else for an opinion, he pushed past it and nodded for her to do so. Pattadol then went to the door, checked if said someone was outside and let them in.

Marcille dropped her quill and all, but Mithrun looked shocked as Madeline walked in, her lively demeanour now replaced with one eerily similar the kind of expression Marcille would make when detailing ancient magic. It wasn’t quite grim, but it enough to pass the unspoken message that this was no small matter. Falin had been waiting there too, but clearly as curious as to what this all meant as the rest of the room was. Once they had all taken a seat, Falin taking a chair and sitting next to them, Pattadol returned her staff to her fairy form and whispered the words to connect to her queen.

While the fairy paced around and tried to find the line, Laios gave Marcille a look and moved his eyes towards her mother. Marcille seemed to understand the suggestion at questioning her mother while they had the chance but shook her head.

I wish I could have that much trust in those people.

They still hadn’t answered Falin’s letter. Marcille’s mother had had the time to run all the way to Melini and still...

Not the time Laios!

“Ah, Pattadol, swift as always. And I assume we are in the presence of King Laios and the other two?” the fairy had suddenly gained the elderly obsidian complexion of the queen, something that Laios still found endlessly fascinating as to the logistics of.

“The council is here, and Pattadol brought Falin with her. Is that enough?” Laios asked, biting his tongue a bit as he still felt like his speech pattern was not up to par for a conversation like this.

“Anymore and we’d not be having this talk. Pattadol, isolate the room.” the queen ordered. Izutsumi’s ears shot upwards, her muscles tensing and getting ready to pounce, but Marcille had her stand down. Through his limited knowledge of magic, he didn’t feel anything dangerous from the spell Pattadol casted, so Laios just guessed this was one of those spells used to not let sound travel in or out of a place. “Good. Now, I’ll cut to the chase. The only people that know that you three broke the laws of nature are those in this room and the lordling of house Nakamoto. We’ve made sure of that none that weren’t present at the happening know the details.”

“Frankly, that’s hard to believe. There were tens, if not hundreds of prying eyes and ears. And they weren’t exactly quiet... wait.” Kabru stared at Pattadol. “Did you-”

“The moment I arrived.” Pattadol confirmed. Laios looked at Marcille and Falin and they just shook their heads.

“Sorry Laios, you were more important at the moment. I didn’t check.” Marcille told him along with a nod from Falin.

“Not just that, but my role on the canaries was one of clean-up. That means stopping unwanted knowledge of the inner workings of the dungeon from circulating, along with giving former Dungeon Lords a second chance at life by erasing their deeds from the general populace.” Pattadol broke eye contact with everyone, and understandably so, Laios was fuming, and he considered himself a forgiving person.

“And when were you planning on telling us that?!” Laios shouted, to the surprise of nearly everyone in the room. Only Kabru seemed to understand. He had been burnt just a couple days ago and this happened again.

“Frankly, Your Majesty, not only did you never ask, but you’ve barely met with me since I arrived. I recall two talks we had before you died. And one of those was to setup this meeting. This is not information I can reveal lightly. Do you understand how illegal memory altering magic is?” Pattadol snarled for the first time since she came back.

“I’d have thought you, of all people, would understand someone holding back their skillset until it was necessary.” the queen of elves added. That was a guilt trip if he ever saw one. But she was right, she had caught him on the back foot. These elves were dangerous.

“Can you provide evidence that Pattadol’s magic has not been used on us already?” Yaad quickly countered, Laios thanking the man’s millennial experience.

“Absolutely. Memory magic does not erase the memories, so to speak. It makes them inaccessible to the person’s mind. In this room, there are at least three mages other than myself that can go into someone’s mind in this room and unlock them, if they are there. My magic may not leave a trace, but once you know it happened, it’s quite easy to reverse.” Pattadol replied, slightly toning down the atmosphere.

“We can keep going as if she hasn’t. Pattadol’s a great magic user but a horrible liar. I interrogated her the moment I returned, and I am as sure as one can be that she did not alter anyone’s mind.” Mithrun put out. Laios didn’t like that lingering doubt, but he was right. This could be checked later.

“Thank you Mithrun, as efficient as ever.” the queen’s fairy spoke, receiving only a disdainful groan.

“Efficient enough to know that you wouldn’t order her to do it without a plan behind it all. You wear a sheep’s wool in your old age, but a wolf is a wolf.” Mithrun spat back and the fairy smiled in return.

“Oh, what do you mean. I am just padding the way for a prospective alliance. After all, you’ll need a strong ally sooner than later.” That fake smile slit itself into a predator’s warning signal.

“Stop playing with us. What do you mean?!” Laios would respond to almost anything with a smile, even if he didn’t understand the reason of the situation. But the way that person talked, like she wanted nothing more than to have them dancing on her palm. Like she knew better. It disgusted him. Brought back all the wrong memories.

Madeline took a deep breath and grabbed the Queen’s fairy, silencing it with her thumb.

“That’s enough Shimea. And you wonder why we all leave you.” Madeline scolded, turning their gaze to the trio. “I’m sorry to always be the bearer of bad news my dolcezze, but I was the one to make the discovery, so I thought it was best if I was the one to do it.” Marcille’s mother explained, taking a small bow of apology, when really, he was doing them a favour. Laios knew they could trust her words, not so much the queen’s. “Have any of you felt anything different ever since you woke up? Well, outside of the obvious?” she pointed at the place in her head where Marcille had grown ears.

“Different? About us or?” Laios asked, unfortunately the other two looking as clueless as he was.

“Alright. I’ll pull out the bandage then. We found out how you three managed to all return to life. This entire city... is now a dungeon.”

Yaad and Kabru, understandably, kicked their chairs back and slammed the table. Mithrun looked less affected than he should, Laios guessed that he had an inkling as well. But this didn’t feel right.

“I noticed the weird fluctuations in the air when I entered the dungeon inside the golden Mausoleum yesterday. I’m not an expert magician, but I don’t catch any of the sort when I’m here.” Laios replied, and Falin added:

“I’ve always felt a constant chill down my spine when I was near any dungeon, and being inside one gave me this warm bubbly feeling. My professors joked that I should work as a dungeon detector. I still have to agree with my brother on this. If we were inside one, I’d know.”

“Have you casted any identification spell?” Madeline retorted and the Touden siblings just shared a look. Laios was confident in Falin’s gut, but maybe it was hard for elves to admit it? “I am not implying Falin is not reliable. But it seems like my daughter has something to say.”

“When you teleported us out yesterday. I felt like I had lost mana when you did. But when I returned to the city, I felt refreshed. I found that strange, but still, that doesn’t make sense. A dungeon doesn’t just feed you mana unless...” she began to look horrified, and with every breath, Laios started to feel a very familiar dread return to him.

“The reason why you can’t feel it instinctually, it’s because... it’s part of you. Do you feel your blood circulating? Do you feel your heart beating? Do you feel your lungs pumping out air?” the entire room moved their gaze from Madeline to them. To the... “Unfortunately, we have to come to terms with the fact that Dungeon Lords can still exist.”

“That doesn’t add up though. Dungeons don’t just tether your soul to the world of the living automatically.” Kabru posited. “That was a curse that had to be layered onto the dungeon.”

“I don’t have all the answers Lord Kabru. I’m just a former court magician.” Madeline told the tall-man, her gaze returning to the three in front of her. “But the wish that created the dungeon and the one that tethered souls to it are one and the same.” she lay the fairy down and uncovered its mouth as the thoughts washed over everyone in the room.

Laios thinks, knows, he should feel ashamed. That sting of dread earlier said so. But, truthfully, he just couldn’t. What Madeline had said had opened his eyes to something.

“It’s the only reason why we’re all here still.” he stated, and maybe he should have stopped there. Maybe there was enough subtext to it that the others would understand but... so many people didn’t pick up on how he felt. He wanted to make it perfectly clear. He took both his lover’s and his sister’s hands and held them tight. “For you two, I’d be willing to pay any price.”

It was clear by the rest of his advisor’s faces that this was the wrong time and place to say it. But the bittersweet smiles and the nods he got from Falin and Marcille were all that he cared about.

“That’s touching. And I am not here to pass judgement on it.” the queen of elves... Shimea said. “But unlike the latter, this isn’t the kind of thing that can be hidden. Mages all around the city are starting to pick up on it, right Mithrun?” Mithrun carefully nodded. “A hole in a deserted island that adventurers jump in to battle monsters for treasure? That’s dangerous, but normal. An active kingdom being built atop a functioning dungeon? Being ruled by the same people that rule the country? That’s a disaster waiting to happen. And one that already did.”

“What do you want then?” Yaad cut in, slicing through the fairy’s preamble. “I’ve heard of you from the Utayan lad. You are a wolf; you ate half the world in merely half of your life.”

“All that suspicion. Again, I came here with an offer for an alliance. That is all.” the Wolf Queen of the Western Continent said.

“I’ll hear it.” Laios replied, shrugging his shoulders when Yaad gave him a cutting look. “I am not making any promises though.”

“It’s quite simple. You lack an heir-”

“I’m no longer hearing it.” Laios cut back in. Even he knew where this is going. More importantly, he knew Pattadol would not neglect telling her what he and Marcille had become. It took all his restraint to not curse her out and force Pattadol to shut the connection.

The fairy’s face turned sour, dark gritting teeth eyeing him as it took flight, just enough to position itself over everyone on the table. Even her own diplomat seemed afraid of the shift in mood.

“Do you understand the position you’re in, uncrowned child?”

“Do you?” Mithrun calmly told her, catching even it by surprise. “It’s been forty-one years since I got lost in that dungeon. And yet, when I was receiving orders to go to the island, I noticed something in the world map. It looked the same as it had when I left.” his one eye appeared to look down at the being that tried so hard to tower over him. “Strange, right? When all my life I heard of all the land you took for our kingdoms. So, I threw my name around and you’d be surprised what came up...”

“Mithrun, don’t, this isn’t public knowledge!” Pattadol warned, getting a far more lenient, yet still unbending look from her former Captain.

"Pattadol, you still serve Shimea, I serve King Laios. We are not on the same side anymore. I hope we can stand side by side still, but that is her decision to make.” a remarkably gentle and respectful undertone became known as Mithrun talked, but his voice was still unshaken. “What I’m saying is that the elven kingdoms are stretched too thin. And the rest of the world may be taking notice.”

“And Melini is overlooking Kahka Brud and the entire Northern Continent. You want us to be a wedge between you and the other half of the world, don’t you?” Kabru deduced. It must have been very serious for him to throw such an accusatory statement her way. Serious enough that Laios was confident to say this.

“Wolves don’t send their pack to stand guard. Your Majesty, are you implying you want us to serve as the tip of your sword?” Laios wasn’t sure if this was correct. This was a person, not an animal, he just didn’t understand them as well. But he wanted her to come clean, right now. “I was very thankful for backing away from Marcille’s capture. But if that’s really what you want from us, we’ll…”

“Your Majesty, Laios, please don’t say anything rash!” Pattadol exclaimed, trying to stand in-between her fairy and the king.

“Pattadol, you overstep your boundaries. You’ll what, boy?” The visage of Shimea asked, taunted really. Laios looked around him. Yaad was furiously shaking his head. Kabru was biting his tongue, it was clear he disagreed, but he was making an effort to give Laios the word. Mithrun was neutral. Falin did her best to not give out any emotion, as someone who isn’t part of the council. Marcille… laid her hand on his and nodded.

“We’ll stand for our freedom. If that means standing against you, so be it.”

-*-

She had hanged up.

Marcille groaned as she wandered the hallways during the council’s lunch break. Yaad had pulled Laios aside and forbidden anyone from staying, but Marcille just wasn’t hungry.

It has been so hard to continue the council afterwards. She could barely remember what she had recorded. Something about orcs and caravans being sacked? It all just seemed so small compared to that woman’s actions.

“I hope I don’t become like that…” she told no one in particular. It was so easy to imagine herself losing empathy as more and more of what she loved was lost to her. Shimea was old even for an elf after all.

She put those thoughts aside as she arrived at where had headed. Pattadol’s room. She remembered her staring at the fairy laying on the table motionless with a look of very familiar resignation. She hadn’t even excused herself from the council after picking it up. And sure enough, after several unanswered knocks on the door and a threat to blow it up, she answered.

Marcille looked over the dead-eyed magician and saw what she expected. An empty room full of packing equipment.

“Don’t do this Pattadol.” She said, cutting to the chase. Pattadol hadn’t met her eyes yet, and this had not changed it.

“Why do you care? After that farce of a mediation. Do you people really want to go to war with the entire elven alliance? Is that why you want an incompetent like me around?” The young elf, well, by their standards, seemed devoid of hope, turning around to finish laying her clothes on the last suitcase.

“You really should not blame yourself for that. You can’t change an old dog’s habits.”

“But I could have taught this pup of a king! Lady Marcille, I knew I had failed the moment I was asked to set up this meeting.” Pattadol’s normally careful and considered movements erratically broke as she began throwing her dresses haphazardly into the case. “I should have pulled him aside and explained the stakes of my work here as soon as I came to Melini. I shouldn’t have immediately communicated your awakening. I should have done something! I thought I had more time…”

“That's what every long-lived race would say on their first year of the Academy. Took me a while to figure out why…” Marcille sat on her emissary’s bed and reminisced for a bit. “They just lived in a different time axis from us, the ones that live at the pace of the shorter-lived races. Elves, Gnomes, Dwarves. They have so much time to do things that every day is less significant, less full. You’re having a hard time adapting is all. Kabru told me he had a hard time doing it as well and he’s a tall-man.”

“Unfortunately, it feels like Her Majesty is being swept up in your flow as well.” Pattadol mulled, taking a seat next to her suitcase and locking eyes with Marcille. “Is it healthy for you to be doing that? Living that way? You’re... well... I heard that your age results are the highest in the hybrid scale.”

“Yeah. I’ll live a thousand years. But they won’t. I’ll treasure every moment I have with everyone here.” Marcille gave her a smile. That is the Pattadol she knew. Worrying about her even though she’s in a crisis of her own.

“You’re strong Marcille. I wish I could be half as determined. I couldn’t even stop Captain Mithrun from revealing state secrets. I didn’t even give it a real attempt.” Pattadol sighed, and unfortunately this was also the Pattadol Marcille knew. Ever the pessimist. “I just... I just don’t know who I’m doing this for. It can’t be my family; they threw me out to the wolves. My country? I can’t even understand what’s going inside my own monarch’s head. Melini? I’ve been here for three weeks, and it feels just so... fragile. Like it can fall apart at any moment.”

“How about doing it for yourself?” Marcille told the elf, who just gave her a confused stare. “That’s what we’re all doing really. Kabru’s doing this so that no one else goes through the things he did. Mithrun’s probably trying to atone. Yaad probably a mixture of guilt because of Thistle and gratefulness. Laios wants a place to belong. I am just trying to own up to my mistakes. And that’s just our council. What do you want from your life Patty?”

“No one’s ever asked me but...” there was a moment of hesitation, weakness Marcille was sure is how Pattadol read it. “This isn’t a fairy tale Marcille. People like us are little more than our role.” Marcille chuckled, she had to hold herself back from laughing.

“You’re saying that while living on a kingdom of myth that rose from the waters after a country boy and his merry band of adventurers broke a millennial curse wrought by an ancient being from beyond our understanding. And then said peasant ascended to rule it! We may not be the protagonists of a fairy tale, but we sure are living in one!” she winked at Pattadol and jumped up from her seat. The older girl seemed to be going through an entirely different existential crisis, she also had notably stopped throwing her clothes into the suitcase even as Marcille walked to the door. She stopped there and looked back at the girl now sitting on her bed, looking at her feet. “Our fairy tale king told me that it’s okay to be selfish from time to time. I think you should try that. You already call me Marcille! You’re practically one of us by now.”

“I don’t need that imagery haunting my dreams...” Pattadol stated, what for anyone else would be a joke, for her it was dead serious. Marcille couldn’t blame her, a year ago, she’d have had the same reaction.

“So... see you at dinner?” Marcille asked. Pattadol took a look around, at the room she had just disassembled, took a deep breath, sighed and answered:

“Probably.”

-*-

“Testing, testing. Marcille, you there?”

Marcille instinctually turned around at hearing Laios voice, but she was still alone in the corridors. It wasn’t until a mass of undesirable materials started buzzing in front of her wearing his face that she realized it was a call.

I guess I don’t mind it when it looks like that.

“Marcille here. Something the matter?” He couldn’t see it, so she used this opportunity to start getting used to touching a fairy. Holding her hand in front of her, she let it stand on it, shivering a bit at the thought of what she was holding.

“Nothing big, can you come to the council room?” Laios’ voice said through her fairy. She couldn’t quite put the materials out of mind, but she managed to massage the miniature Laios with her other hand as she answered.

“I thought we had a couple hours to have lunch and rest.” she replied, the fairy trying to escape her ever more prodding assault.

“Someone got us lunch.” Now that was curious.

“Be there in a jiffy, amore mio.” the fairy reacted just as she’d imagine Laios to react, how he probably reacted from the other side.

Ah, so the fairies imitate blushing too. Gotta note that down. Maybe they aren’t so bad after all...

-*-

“Can you two keep the foreplay to your rooms?” Izutsumi spat as Marcille re-entered the council room. Marcille only scratched her ear, she didn’t have any real defence. It seemed to be just them and the Toudens though, so at least she hadn’t embarrassed herself in front of people she was uncomfortable doing so.

“So... um, what’s for lunch?” she asked Laios, who simply pointed back to Izutsumi. “Tsumi?! You can cook?!”

“N-Not really. The Young Blockhead helped me.” Izutsumi answered, making this even more of a mysterious treat.

“You actually asked Shuro for... anything? Is something the matter Tsumi?” Marcille asked in genuine worry. A genuineness that as always seemed not land as she expected with the cat. She didn’t expect her ears to droop and for her to look away.

“I told you already. I screwed up. Marcille you... no. All of you. You could have died just because I let my guard down at the worst possible time. It’s not much, but I’m trying to apologize.” No barbs, no glares. Izutsumi for once let herself be vulnerable. As thankful as Marcille was, she knew it was best to not say anything, this took too much from her already.

“So, what did you cook up?” Marcille sung, taking a seat at the table alongside her family. The cat girl pulled out a container made of interconnected leaves and a small rotund ball also covered in a leaf. She opened the larger contained, revealing three rows of strange rotund pieces of... food?

“Just some mochi. It’s the best I could do.” she explained, the expressions of the trio telling her that they had no idea what that was. “It’s from the east. It’s like... some sweets, ya know? Just try it already!”

Realizing they weren’t going to get any farther with her, they all took on of the many balls of this weird mochi thing and dug in.

It was strangely soft and malleable, but at the same time it was chewy. The outside was just a bit sweet, but nothing to write home about. The inside however, it was like an explosion of flavour hitting all of Marcille’s glands. This taste. This sweetness. This refreshing sensation. It was....

“This has ice cream in it?!” Marcille exclaimed, immediately following up with her now trademark. “It’s so Delicious!” and now they knew that had also been made in a dungeon.

“What are you talking about Marcille? This clearly has dryad paste on the inside!” Laios eyes were shining brighter than the sun on the outside. Falin shook her head.

“Really you two? This is clearly strawberry flavoured, look, there’s even half a strawberry inside!” Falin exclaimed, pulling out the fruit in question. Izutsumi sighed.

“You’re all right. The middle row is dryad, left is strawberry, right is ice cream. You actually picked the rows made for you before I even pointed them out.” she explained, the trio pumping their chests in pride even though it had been pure, dumb, luck.

“Gee... I wonder how Tsumi knew that...” Marcille rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t complain too much. It was rather sweet of him to help Izutsumi. “You have the chops of a cook Tsumi!”

“It took me thirteen tries to get this right. Save your praise.” she groaned in the middle of the trio’s incessant pets and praise. She didn’t move away though.

“How about this one?” Laios asked, reaching for the small ball at the edge. The cook smacked his hand away. “What was that for?!”

“Not for you! I didn’t even cook it!” She hissed, pushing it towards Falin. “Here, from a secret admirer.”

Why even keep that charade? Falin was plotting to get me and Laios together, surely, she can put two and two together...

“Oooooh! A secret admirer! How mysterious, I wonder who it is!” she was deadly serious. Was this a Touden thing? No, this happened to her too. Were you only blind to signs of affection when they were directed at yourself?

That poor man.

She unwrapped it and revealed a paste that looked like it was made of flower petals. Pink, grainy texture with a single adorable petal lining up at the top. It would be so romantic if it wasn’t from Shuro.

And then Falin just threw it in the air and down the hatch it went. All the care reduced to a single bite.

“Delicious!” well, at least she enjoyed it.

-*-

“Remind me to never let work pile up ever again...” Laios groaned, laying on his bed while Marcille did magical check-ups on their fairies to see if a day of use did not change anything.

“You’re telling me. Plus, that granny couldn’t have waited a couple days before throwing a fit on us?!” Marcille growled, ears fuming already. Laios wondered why she got so fired up around Queen Shimea. There was something else that he was wondering about though. His bed felt so... lacking now. His muscles thanked him for it, but that mental cleansing that came with hitting your bed just hadn’t struck him yet. He had a theory...

“Hey, Marcille... can I ask you a favour?” he sheepishly started. His Court Magician gave a non-committal “huh?”, probably expecting something weird. Made him feel self-conscious again, so he dropped it. “Sorry, I guess you have your hands full.”

“Laios... I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.” Marcille dropped the fairies, who were screeching in their own squeaky voices at her and turned to face him. “I’m all ears.”

“Can I... lay on your lap for a bit? Falin, she loved to do it when she had a bad day as a kid, said it cleared her head. She got picky about doing it as she grew up, but I always wondered how it felt so...” Marcille started laughing. Well, if nothing else, that laugh was enough to relieve him a bit.

“You’re just a big baby when we’re alone, aren’t you? You know, I also gave Falin some mean lap pillows.” Laios felt a pang of envy already, he hoped she didn’t notice. Her smile became a grin. “Oh, is little Laios jealous? Of his own sister no less?”

“Y-Yeah, a bit. A lot actually.” it slipped out, but strangely, he didn’t feel the same jolt of fear he usually felt when he spoke his mind. Marcille’s face flared up, a weak attempt at disguising it through a coughing fit following.

“You weren’t kidding about feeling free to be honest around me,” she walked up to his bed and sat down, tapping her lap. “C’mon, I’ll give you a free massage as an apology for betraying you before I even met you.”

He didn’t hesitate to take it, laying his nape against her soft thighs. They seemed a just a tiny bit fuller than they were all those times he had carried her through the dungeon. Castle life was a lot more sedentary after all. They probably should get an exercise program going, so that he could live longer with her. But this amount was fine. It was soft, comfy, like a pillow. Or maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him, he wouldn’t know, he’d never felt like this towards someone before.

She started massing his ears first, oohing and aweing as she did.

“They are a lot like Papà’s! But they are tougher. I guess it’s because he was older...” she said before pulling the ear. He yelped and she blushed again. “Sorry, sorry! After I asked you not to...”

“It’s amazing how it took so long for me to fall in love with you. That or you’re just way more charming now.” she pinched his nose playfully and the both of them laughed.

“Maybe if I had listened to Falin and just been myself around you from the start we’d have not wasted the last half-a-year in this song and dance.” he regretted the words a bit. It wasn’t a waste. “Sorry, I can’t call the best time of my life a waste.”

“You’d better not! It’s been the best for me too! And honestly it was probably for the best that you held back. You’re an acquired taste but aren’t those the best ones?” she asked and Laios felt brave again.

“I don’t know, you tell me.” he replied while closing his eyes and waiting, hoping for a return of that sensation from the day before. She flicked his forehead instead.

“I’m not that easy, you dork! You get my smiles for free now, but you better work for the kisses!” she said that with all the authority of a squirrel. Anyone, even Laios, could see that she was just too embarrassed to follow through. What a dork she was.

They remained there in silence for a few minutes, maybe more. Sleep threatened to overtake the king, but before it did, he had one thing he wanted to address with her, the sooner the better. Even if it may sour the mood.

“Marcille, about the crowning ceremony...” he began, bringing back up a topic that had briefly been addressed in that day’s meeting.

“Laios, I’ll be honoured to be the one to crown you. Even if we weren’t lovers, I would accept. Stop worrying about it!” she pouted, maybe remembering the collective groan of the other people at the table when Laios suggested it. That word though. Lovers. It made Laios tingle all over. He almost forgot what he had to ask.

“That wasn’t what I was going to ask…” Laios said, leaning into Marcille’s stomach. She was so comfortable. “I wanted to know if this crown will get in-between us.”

“Why would it? I understood our position when I confessed.” She started to mess with his nascent beard. He really needed to shave that. “I don’t care if you have a crown, or a stupid monster mask, or even a real monster’s head or three, you’re Laios to me and that’s all I could ever want.”

“That makes me happier than I can put in words, but I’m thinking of you.” She tilted her head. “I don’t want to anchor you down like I did Falin for our adult life. I want you to be free to chase your dreams. If this.... us, continues, and you and I... if you b-become Queen then…”

“You idiot…” Marcille reached down and planted a long kiss on his lips. It was less impulsive than the first one. Less messy. Maybe a bit less exciting, but they would have time to work their way back properly. “To be with you is my dream now. I have… too long left. All the years you are willing to... that you can give me, I’ll gladly give back to you.”

“You sound like you want…” she covered his mouth with her thumb.

“Shhh Laios. Don’t say it until it’s time. But would this really be love if I did not hope that, after I crown you, you’ll be able to do the same to me?” She whispered in his ears and suddenly his entire body tensed like it never had before. He didn’t understand it, but as Marcille stood up and gathered her things, his hand just unwittingly reached out to hers.

“Please stay…” he begged. She considered it, he could see it.

“Not today Laios. It’s not time yet, right?” She winked at him and he lost his breath and never found it until after she walked out.

He truly felt like he was under her thumb. Little did he know, that as soon as the door had closed, Marcille had collapsed against it in the same way he just had, just as flustered, just as blissful.

-*-

“I thought you promised to never schedule something at dawn ever again...” Marcille yawned, doing her best to stand next to Laios’ throne without needing to lean on Ambrosia. She hadn’t had any nightmares the previous night, but she had had a very hard time going to sleep after leaving Laios like that.

It was clearly mutual. Laios wasn’t even awake anymore. Just mumbling something about putting some of the hydra in mochi in his sleep. It took Kabru hitting him Kensuke’s own guard to wake him up.

“For the love of all that is holy, even if that’s monsters to you Laios, focus! Most of the caravan that arrived in the middle of the night is taking a day to rest before your scheduled meetings, but these Fardomar emissaries wanted to meet you the moment they arrived. Either they are very eager, or they want something very specific. We can’t afford to seem weak in front of the North’s most dangerous nation!” For half that speech, it was as if Kabru was talking to a pair of tree trunks. But the moment Fardomar was mentioned, memories of that dark clearing in Laios’ dreamscape jolted them both awake.

“I understand Kabru. I won’t let you down. Marcille?” Laios questioned, in but a few moments completely switching gears to King Laios. This too was charming to her. When the chips were down, you could always bet on him. She nodded, as ready as she’d ever be. “Send them in.”

If only Laios knew how much he’d regret those three words. For as Mithrun pulled open the doors to the throne room, the two emissaries at the door, surrounded by a delegation of Fardormar soldiers were a pair of horribly familiar tall-men, a blonde, middle aged man and a red haired middle-aged woman.

The elder Toudens.

-*-

Chapter 13: The Devil in Man's Throat

Chapter Text

-*-

”Shut those doors!” Laios’ mouth moved on its own. The cry that part of him wanted to leave to his thoughts, the rational side of him that wanted to put up a front, it had lost the battle before it even began.

“Laios, what are you doing?!” Kabru yelled in shock, not even he managing to maintain decorum under such brazen disrespect of the laws of hospitality from his own king. Laios hesitated. Then he met those eyes. Those disgustingly familiar amber eyes, boring holes into his soul. The sheer ignominy in them. What right did that man have to feel embarrassed of him?!

Marcille dropped her staff and threw her arms around him. She... wasn’t afraid.

“It’s okay Laios, you’re with friends. You can cry.” she whispered, oh-so-gently, as sweet as a freshly baked pie. Yet, Laios didn’t understand what she said. He was a raging bull right now. He was all fury and... she caressed his hair. He bit his lip. Why. Why? WHY?! Why was he sad?! Why was he disappointed?! At whom? For what?!

He cried. For who’s sake, he did not know. He just knew that a dam that he had spent the last half of his life building, started leaking.

Thankfully, someone was there that could, maybe, plug that hole. Not with words, not with actions. But by simply... being there.

“I just... I asked her. Begged her. To keep him away...” he gargled between laboured breaths. “Why couldn’t he even give me that?!”

“Laios I...” Marcille was clearly trying to find words, but Laios knew, she would have none. She had always been loved. She had faced many, many hardships. But finding love was not one. “I know what it’s like...” she began. Laios looked up, confused. If it were anyone else besides his sister, he may have just punched them. But he trusted her. She had his heart. Maybe she could see what was broken. “I know what it’s like to be haunted by your childhood’s shadows.”

Ah. He had been blind, as always. As impossibly different as they were, they always found common ground in something. The brief doubt that he had in her now rotted in his gut, a reminder that he was still not worth this angel’s love. He had to be better. Good enough that not even that man could-

Why does it all go back to him?!

Marcille pushed him away. He tried to pull her back in, but she kept him at bay. Before the fear could set in, she cupped his face and made him look into her eyes. They were caring, understanding, but unbending.

“You helped me confront them Laios. We’ll do this together. Like we always do.” Marcille stated, planting a quick kiss on his lips before pulling him back into a hug.

He did not want to. He...

“I can’t do it...” he whimpered. Marcille caressed his nape like she had during their first night as lovers.

He would be strong for her too.

“Kabru, Mithrun, I’m really sorry for that.” he said with a tone as even as he could maintain in this situation. Kabru seemed to be pushing back anger, but he did his best to look supportive. Mithrun however...

“I know what it’s like. You took it better than I did.” the former canary said. All three of the ones in the room eyed him in puzzlement. “You didn’t go for the throat.” from the toneless voice of the once-husk of a man skittered out just an ember of anger, quickly concealed, never making it to his face. “If you need someone else to-”

“In any case!” Kabru interrupted, smacking the hand that Mithrun was taking to the knife in his belt. “I understand that there are personal entanglements in this. I wouldn’t even be surprised if the Fardomian king played these particular cards on purpose. But, for the sake of Melini, we can’t just send them back. Wars have been started for less and-”

“I will meet with them.” Laios stated, Marcille caressing his ear slightly with her free hand before Kabru’s eyes pushed the hand away. “But we need to be on our own.” Laios knew that words would be exchanged that no outside party should ever be privy to. Not even Kabru. “Just me, my... those two and Marcille.”

“Falin won’t let you keep her out of this.” Marcille stated plainly. She was right.

“She can come if she wants to. But that’s as far as it goes. No one else. Not you two. Not Yaad. Especially not those soldiers. That is final.” Laios declared, and so it would be done. Mithrun shrugged and turned to Kabru, who inhaled, stomped the ground, exhaled all of the complaints he certainly had about this and simply said:

“I’ll think of something.”

-*-

What is taking them this long?

Laios just wanted to get this over with. He was not himself ever since he saw that man. Even as Marcille combed his hair and as he braided her hair to look more presentable, two things that would shut out the rest of the world in any other circ*mstance, he couldn’t stop staring at the council room’s doors.

Worst of all, his hair and facial hair looked just like how they did once Falin found him. Just like... him. Yes, him, the person who had just walked through the door, wife in tow.

Age had been too kind to them. Beyond a few wrinkles on his forehead, carefully masked on his wife he was sure, the only thing they had gained from their fifteen years apart was a small shade of silver on their heads. They were disturbingly similar.

“We thank you for receiving us privately, son.” That man told him, turning to his wife so that she would bow. He didn’t, of course.

“We did not want a reunion to be privy to unwanted eyes.” Marcille replied for him after noticing his hesitation. They seemed disturbed, maybe disappointed. Laios didn’t have anything to say to them though.

“I see you value your trophy very highly Laios, to keep her at your side at all times. Or are there just that many trying to claim it?” that man said, changing the subject to the person in this room that least deserved those words. She was far faster than him, both his thoughts and any reaction he may have had. His Court Magician gracefully crossed the distance between the men and now offered her hand to the person opposite to Laios. He wished he could stop her, but he knew it to be selfish.

“While I appreciate being put on a pedestal, I would rather you know the lady you address. My name is Marcille Donato, Melini’s Court Magician, Royal Advisor to the Crown, the greatest student the Northern Academy for the Arcane has ever took in and your daughter’s best friend. Among many other things!” Marcille added with a smirk. They had discussed that it was best to not lead with the status of their relationship, but Laios felt like Marcille was having a bit too much fun with the proverbial hanging sword above their heads. “Now, I haven’t caught your names yet. May I?”

“It’s her...” Laios heard his mother whisper, likely putting two and two together that the person on the wanted posters was the same as Falin’s beloved friend, sister now even. That man still had not flinched.

“My name is Ulfric Touden. This is my wife, Irina. I am surprised neither my daughter nor my son brought up our names.” he commented, legitimately seeming surprised. It gave Laios some joy to know that Falin, despite her apparent mending of bridges with them, still chose to keep those people at arm’s length even next to Marcille.

“Well, you know Falin, always Father this, Mother that. Not much time to bring up actual names!” Marcille walked back next to Laios, adding without looking. “Maybe if you had visited like my mother did...”

Irina stared down at her feet, a bit too late for shame from Laios’ point of view, but at least she displayed it. Ulfric was as stoic as ever.

“The experience prepared her for the real world.” he stated, Laios seeing Marcille’s face turn dark while pacing towards him. Though, by the time she turned back to the elder Toudens, she was all smiles again.

“With that misunderstanding out of the way, I’m sure your son, the King of Melini, is eager to know what brought you here. You do not seem the kind to spare the time if not absolutely necessary.” The façade Marcille put up was barely holding, Laios could tell. But those two either did not care or thought that little of her. Laios couldn’t decide which was worse.

“Why I have come here and why I was sent here are two, very different, things.” Ulfric replied, taking a seat across the council table, Irina remaining standing next to him. It was tradition for only the ones participating on the conference, the men, to take a seat, the others would remain standing. Laios made a point to pull up Marcille’s chair so that she would sit with him, even if he knew it was not a custom that extended past his village.

“I’m sorry, but why is your wife not seating?” Marcille asked, clearly catching on, as quick as ever. “There’s no prying eyes around us, you are free to make yourself comfortable, Mrs Irina.” the way she phrased it and her cheerful expression betrayed no aggression, but still, Laios knew those words had a purpose.

Laios’ parents shared a look, Irina’s asking what to do while Ulfric clearly being taken aback. Eventually the man did personally go and take a chair for his wife to sit next to him, but the balance of power in the room seemed to have shifted. In fact, it didn’t belong to any Touden. Laios was rather... taken by the display. Had she taken lessons from her mother for the position, or was this just another thing he could watch in wonder of her genius?

“Now that we’re all settled properly, where were we?” Marcille asked while opening a book. The book was not the Annals, but they didn’t have to know that. Laios hated his father, but he knew he was no fool. Marcille had been loud and clear.

This is Laios’ country, you two better remember that.

“I was saying that while I intend to fulfil the duty imparted to me by my kingdom’s lord, I did not come here with that as my main intention.” Ulfric told the two, catching both by surprise. “I come here as a father, not a messenger.”

You still think you can call yourself that?!

Laios knew he had to hold back. At least for now. Enough that once they were out of that door, he would not have to receive them again. Even as his father steeled himself for something, even as that face twisted itself into something disgustingly akin to sincerity.

“Son, it is alright. You do not have to stay here.”

Laios did not expect that.

“What are you... why would you even say that? Nothing’s holding me here!” Laios replied, his first words to his father, still stuck in a weak defiance.

“Why did you become King, Laios? Did you ever, truly, seek this kind of burden?” Ulfric questioned, eyes weary, maybe from the travels, maybe something else. Laios staggered. Afterall, he had inherited it as an afterthought of saving his sister, and he had accepted it because... he looked at Marcille. Would he have accepted if-

“Please, just come home Laios. We are plenty proud of what you’ve accomplished!” his mother exclaimed, almost reaching out across the table for her son. This was all wrong. Why were they... trying to help? Why did they care?! “You don’t have to chase your father’s shadow anymore.”

Oh. The king’s fist clenched.

“Yes Laios, you have proven yourself worthy to succeed me already. Stop this charade before this land’s people pay for it.” Ulfric told him, his expression returning to that look of... it wasn’t disdain. It wasn’t embarrassment. It was something far worse. Pity.

So that’s what it is. Laios fire, which, for a single moment, faltered, began roaring once more.

“Our King has his eyes set on this kingdom. You should know you cannot lead them through a war. In a time of need, the people need someone that understands... people.” Laios couldn’t believe it. That man was... deadly serious. He truly believed himself to be helping. He wore the same look he gave him when he assumed Laios couldn’t understand what Falin’s birth was. The look that had been scarred into the back of his mind since he was a child. “Come back Laios, I will help you find a good match. I will help you lead the village. Once I am gone, I’m sure we’ll have set up a system that-”

“Shut up.” Laios grumbled, holding back his voice as much as he could. Staring down the wood of the table to avoid escalation. “If that’s why you’re here, let’s just get to your official mission.”

“You cannot be serious Laios. What we did, we did for the best of our child! You were the one that abandoned us!” Ulfric roared back, bringing a smile to Laios’ face. Yes, off came the mask. “You were twelve. I will not blame you for your idiotic decisions at such an age. But you are a man now. You somehow stumbled your way into the path of a crown. Act like one!”

“You did what was best for Falin?! Who was there when she was mocked and bullied by the entire town? You? Her? You were too busy telling Falin she was cursed and that she should lock herself in her room until she was of age to be shipped like merchandise!” Laios slammed both hands onto the table as he stood up. “I was there for Falin. And when I wasn’t, it was Marcille. It wasn’t you two. You don’t get to waltz back into our lives and act like you know what’s best!”

“You’re going to doom the people of this country because of a childish grudge?!” Ulfric shouted, clearly having more to say, if a staff did not slam itself inches away from his hands.

“Who are you to say that? When was the last time you’ve talked with Laios? When was the last time Falin even did anything but sing his praises to you two?!” Marcille blurted out, her polite façade fully disintegrating. She stood side by side with Laios, further reinforcing his motivation.

“Falin is not mature enough to see his flaws yet...” Irina answered. And it finally clicked for Laios, and Marcille as well it seemed. Where that need Falin had to be treated as an adult came from. Of course it came from them.

“I’m not the immature one here.” all four broke away from their confrontation to look on the door’s direction. Falin had just closed the door behind her and had an uncharacteristic look of grim determination.

“My little tytär!” Irina exclaimed in equal amounts relief and worry. Even as Ulfric tried to hold her to her decorum, for once she acted like a mother and threw herself onto her daughter. Falin had grown to be quite a bit taller than her mother, and immeasurably stronger. Falin returned the hug, even smiling at the reunion. But… “Oh no, is this what happened to you?!”

She pulled at Falin’s feathers, the girl uncomfortably chuckling as she did. Falin was ticklish on her feathers after all. Then, the older Touden pulled a bit too hard. Falin eeped and tensed as one of her feathers came clean off. Her mother gasped and stepped back to apologize. Enough for Laios to see something push the fabric of the back Falin’s skirt upwards.

It wasn’t just him.

Her father kicked the chair back. Marcille dashed around the table. Laios jumped on it.

They were too far away. Ulfric got to Falin first. And in the middle of her mother’s apologies, she did not notice him lift up her long skirt, revealing her crimson dragon tail. Irina screeched in horror.

Marcille had been just a couple meters away from the three. Ulfric turned to her with death in his eyes. Before either Falin or her could react, he grabbed her by her collar and began lifting.

“What have you done to my daughter?!” He screamed.

Laios acted on instinct.

“Don’t you dare touch her!” his first collided directly with that man’s nose, shattering it on impact. As Ulfric fell to the ground, he swiped his hand wildly, catching the side of Laios’ face. But he didn’t care, his attention was squarely on holding Marcille steady as she fell back on his arms.

Her hairband tumbled, and his eyepatch fell to the ground at the same time.

“Mother, Father, please let me explain!” Falin begged as she knelt on his side, trying to heal his nose. Ulfric shirked at the magical touch, she pulled back.

His eyes were squarely placed on Laios and Marcille. The way Laios held her no longer left anything to the imagination. Arms around her torso and hips, protective, possessive. His body covering her from any assault.

“I thought you the trophy, but I was wrong. My son is your trophy, you dark elf!” Ulfric forced himself back up. Laios reached for Kensuke. Marcille tried to hold it in place.

Both elder Toudens fell to the ground, incapacitated.

The rest of the room was just as stunned, but it had nothing to do with the spell.

Laios couldn’t believe what he tried to do. Marcille didn’t seem to believe it either. Falin was just… distraught. Fifteen years. More than half their lifetime. And this is the reunion they got. Marcille was the first to recover.

“We… we need to get Pattadol! She can lock these memories!” She exclaimed, already starting to run.

“It’s standard procedure to scan for memory alteration when envoys return.” Madeline told her daughter. “This is no longer a problem mere magic can solve.”

“What do we do then?!” Marcille screeched, holding her head as her mind went at full speed.

Laios did his best to not look at Kensuke again.

“I’ll try to talk with them. They trust me the most right now, I think.” Falin said, turning to her brother. “Laios, please, try to calm down. Once you’re back to being yourself, please, come find us.”

“Falin, they don’t deser-“

“No Laios, we need to be better!” Falin yelled in her rare commanding voice. Laios couldn’t answer, even as the Touden’s bodies began floating midair. “Can you help me take them to my room, Mrs. Donato?”

“Of course, sweetie. I have some choice words for them once their senses return.” The older elf snarled. “Marcille, it’s at this like this that you’re needed the most.”

The two left for Falin’s room, leaving only Laios and his court mage. It hurt him. Yet another secret of hers he couldn’t protect. He couldn’t even look at her in the eyes. Just as quickly as Falin had left, he started making his way for the door. She grasped his hand.

“Marcille… I need to be alone.” He turned around and saw the despair in her eyes. A despair he caused. “…please.”

She let go.

“I’ll be here when you need me.” She reassured.

He needed her now. But he could not say it. He closes the door behind him.

-*-

A twelve-year old Laios snuck out the back door of Ulfric’s house. His pockets were filled with dried meat and bread, his walking stick had a burlap sack wrapping only a second set of clothes, all the money he managed to divert in the last month, enough for maybe a day or two at a cheap inn, and his treasured book. His mother was out trying to buy another weird set of herbs to uncurse his sister. His father was having a meeting with Falin’s betrothed to explain how she was going to be shipped off. Falin should still be in her room.

“Big Brother, where are you going?!” Falin called out, grabbing the door as he attempted to close it behind him. Laios turned to face her. He expected this to weaken his resolve, but the messily cut hair and the rashes from that woman’s stupid attempt at an exorcism with strange medicinal herbs, plus the snot from the cold she had gotten from the cold bathwater, just made him realize there was no other choice for him.

“I’m going to join the army Falin. It pays well, not many people join up.” he explained as kindly as he could.

“B-But why?! You have Pa’s job!”

“I can’t take that one Falin! And you can’t come back here either!” the young boy screamed, hugging his sister with his free arm.

“Where would I go then? School only lasts two hands worth of years.” she innocently asked, not even questioning her brother. She had always agreed with any plan he’s ever had, no matter how stupid.

“When you’re done with school, I’ll have made enough money to get us a nice place to live, okay? We can go on adventures together, look for all the weird fluffies and buggies we want.” Laios pulled away and held back tears. He had to be a real man now. Real men didn’t cry. “Wait for me until then, okay? And don’t let them tell you what to do!” there was so much more he wanted to tell his sister, but now his resolve was actually faltering. Knowing that, he put his sack down, rubbed her platinum hair with both of his hands and kissed her in the forehead. “I love you Little Sis.”

“I love you too Big Bro. Write me letters!” she also looked like she was trying to hold back tears but being entirely unsuccessful.

“Don’t worry, I wrote down your town’s address. Now, off I go to become a general!” he exclaimed, taking his things and dashing off as tears began flowing down his face. He could hear Falin yell encouragement at him as he approached the exit to the village.

He looked inside the town-hall as he passed by the window. That man, his father, was there. He trembled, as their eyes met. Was his plan finished? Did he want it to be? He didn’t know. He had no idea how he should react, how his father would react.

Ulfric turned back to talk with Falin’s bully’s father.

Just like that...

Laios’ tears began flowing again and he ran, dashed, for minutes, maybe an hour or more, he only stopped as he crossed the river that officially marked the end of his village’s property.

He dipped his face into its waters, the coldness of the current seeming to transfer to his heart.

That man is not our father. He never will be. Don’t worry Falin, I’ll replace him soon.

A child swore as he stared at his broken reflection.

-*-

A man saw that child reflected back on his mead.

Despite all the yelling, cheer and anger in the pub, it all felt eerily quiet every time he looked at any kind of mirror.

He knew he needed to process this. So, Laios had put together a team. A squad consisting of nothing but the kingdom’s most disgruntled scions.

Chilchuck, who still lived with his father’s alcoholism to this day.

Shuro, whose dad had forced his entire line into a suicidal quest because...because.

Mithrun, who he knew as of today had at least tried to slice his dad’s neck.

And of course…

“I couldn’t believe et! First letter in yearsh! And just because he wanted me to introduce him to ya!” Namari, who, if not for Laios, would still be paying off her father’s debt.

Together, they had raided the nearest pub and spent the afternoon and night there, screaming obscenities and sharing their worst stories in the company of mead and wine. It they were in any company but the king’s, they’d have been kicked out already. He had half-a-mind to invite Pattadol as well, but she wasn’t one of the boys.

“He probably only came back when he thought he could get something out of it...” Laios whispered into his drink, swearing the child on the other side nodded back.

“For a man to change, they must first accept they need to.” Shuro replied, downing half a mug in one go. “I think they’ve lived long enough that if they even could, they would have. In fact, Maizuru once told me a fable that went something like this…”

“If only we knew the way to get this guy to talk was talk about how sh*tty our parents were, huh.” Chilchuck rolled his eyes as the man went over something about a bird that became a woman for a man or something that, while sipping lightly into his wine. He had warned them that he would be the annoying sober friend, he had been trying to cut back because of Lily.

“Y’all love ta complain, but only Mithrun did something about it!” Namari exclaimed, trying to slam her palm onto the elf’s back, but he simply vanished and showed up on another chair.

“Hardly an appropriate response!” Chilchuck screamed back. There were days where Laios would have agreed. He found it hard to today.

“I’m not going to disagree. But it’s better to regret something than regret not trying it.” Mithrun responded, not dodging Chilchuck’s own slap, probably because it barely affected him. “Milsiril told me that.”

“I doubt the context was the same! Of all people to say that too even!”

“He’s going to force me to act...” Laios mumbled sombrely. He had already done so, to an extent. Laios knew better than to expect Ulfric to just pack up and leave after asked to.

“Do not fear it. The balance of power has shifted for you.” Shuro replied after finishing his summary of the tale, downing the rest of his drink.

“Would look like that to ya, wouldn’t it?” Namari gargled while simultaneously sending for another. “This ain’t ‘bout politics, riches or anything logical like that Shuro. Your daddy issues wouldn’t vanish if Laios just slapped his crown on you.”

“Then what are we supposed to do?!” Shuro slammed his mug on the table. “By the kami, this man saved the world and his father won’t accept him. My twelve year old brother is being paraded around the world because mine thinks us too dull to rule.”

“Shuro’s right. I don’t see what else I can do to have them...” Laios couldn’t say it. Even among friends.

To have them accept me.

“Sometimes, you gotta burn a rickety bridge.” Chilchuck mumbled, staring at a bottle of wine in a mix of regret and longing. “Else, someone you care about may be there when it collapses.”

They all returned to their comforting poison.

-*-

Laios wandered the halls of his own castle. Alone. The bells had tolled three times and he had to help both Namari and Shuro to their house and quarter respectively because, as much as he tried to make it be otherwise, he was still lucid.

He had never been a lightweight, the army had drilled that tolerance into him, but only today did he consider that to be a curse. He appreciated his friends’ advice and care. He really did. But he had taken them out for one reason and one reason only. To get drunk. And even that had been denied of him. His stomach had filled to bursting with almost nothing but alcohol, and yet, he was still buzzed at best. Just enough to feel that much more emotional, but sober enough to be fully aware of it.

He did not know if he felt like crying or punching the wall until his fists gave way. He just knew that he could not listen to the whispers that haunted the recesses of his mind every time he passed by a window.

Just kill them. It’s in our power. In our right.

It whispered to him, a shadow of his now fully armoured self, a dark king straight out of a fairy tale heroes’ tragic backstory reflected in the glass instead of his now haggard, nearly breaking down body. The worst of it, was that he was starting to agree with him.

He could not protect them as he was now. The world was closing in on them. He had believed to still have time. Like he had done with magic, he would learn the ways of the crown and emerge from his crowning ceremony as an inexperienced but capable man. He would be lucky to even get to the ceremony now.

“I guess I didn’t have anything to do with it. Marcille is just an amazing teacher... she really is amazing at everything, isn’t she?” even when dealing with his father, she had been able to manoeuvre the situation far better than him. She had given him everything he could need to come out of that situation on top. And he had wasted her efforts. He didn’t dare to go to her now, show her what kind of failure he really was.

“Maybe I should take Shimea’s offer. Add a condition to pardon Marcille too... Yeah, it would make me the enemy of their country. If I showed her his body, Shimea probably would take me back even after yesterday-” Laios passed by another window. The person in the reflection scared him. It was no longer that wraith that haunted his nightmares. It was him. Just. Him. Eyes bulging in an unhinged stare, smile slitting across his face, arms raised, just like the lion who had puppeteered his body.

He begged for this to just be the effects of the drink.

“I need to get to bed before I start to make sense to myself...” Laios knew his intrusive thoughts had gone too far, there was no more avoiding that dreaded empty room. The sooner he could shut his brain off, the better... the safer it would be for everyone.

He headed to his room as fast as he could, not even seeing the dim light escaping from the slit at the bottom of his door before opening it. So, how could he not be surprised when sitting at his desk, illuminated only by a candle’s light, was his own light in the darkness.

“M-Marcille? What-” he stumbled on his words like a drunkard would, but this was anything but. She hadn’t noticed him entering until he spoke up. And just the sight of her was enough to silence all the turmoil in his mind, even if only for a few moments. That golden hair, gleaming softly under the ember’s sheen, her sleepy green eyes and flushed cheeks. That breathtaking gentle smile that came to her when she laid eyes on him. Laios fell on back against the door he had just closed behind him, speechless.

“Do you still need some time alone, Laios?” she asked with a small tilt of her head. He could do nothing more than to shake his head. “Good. I prepared your bathtub. I just need to activate the runes to heat the water, wait there for a moment...”

“Marcille, what are you doing here?” Laios regretted asking as soon as that left his mouth. It had come out way too passive aggressive. He was so bad at talking with other people, he-

“What else? Caring for my cucciolotto when he needs it most.” Marcille told him while poking a line of runes at the entrance to his bathroom, the arcane letters lighting up the room and giving Laios a much better look at his lover. Her hair was just how he liked it most, freed and flowing, but she was in her nightgown, which instinctively made Laios turn his head away before he could get any better look. Strange really, they had spent nights in their sleeping attire many, many times, but seeing her alone in one and seeing the frills and puppy dog embroideries on hers made the situation register completely differently. Hadn’t she compared him to a dog once?!

“You don’t need to-”

“Laios, listen to me.” the playfulness on Marcille’s tone vanished, but not the kindness. “You do not need to bottle things up with your friends. And definitely not with me. You are hurting, and that’s normal. Let me help.”

Laios meekly nodded. How could he say no?

“Okay, now, just say something if the temperature is off and I’ll fix it. Don’t worry, I won’t peek!” Marcille added with a wink as she pushed him into his bathroom. There wasn’t really any door to the side room, so even with that promise, despite checking that his Court Magician had indeed gone back to the other side of the main room and returned to her studies, Laios could not help but feel self-conscious as he took off his clothes in his own bath room.

I mean, it was normal, right? Chil and Senshi had done the same when Marcille would ask to wipe herself down like just before the Undine. Less normal was feeling a bit disappointed at the simplicity of the situation. Namari’s suggestions were probably weaselling their way into his subconscious.

Once he made his way into his bathtub, the water was a bit too hot, Marcille always went on about how she missed hot baths, and it showed. But Laios was fine with it.

If this is the kind of thing Marcille likes, I’ll have to learn to like it too.

She had added a little something to the water though. A strange set of herbs floated at the around the surface, ones that gave off a very distinct, but mild scent. If it was anyone else, it’d probably end at that, just a cute gesture to spruce up the proceedings. But not Marcille. The longer Laios breathed them in, the more the buzzing of the alcohol faded, the more soothed his soul felt. He was of two minds on this. He loved the care put into this moment, but at the same time:

She knows I left her behind to go get wasted. Laios didn’t know much about social flags, but even he knew that that one was crimson. That was probably the reason she looked a bit relieved when she saw him. Probably assumed he had held back. Anything but. I can’t do that again. Not ever.

Regardless, the healing herbs and the bath were just what he needed. Those stupid ghosts had stopped haunting his reflections, and his darker thoughts were a lot more in control now. He could probably put them aside for long enough to get some sleep. He’d figure out how to deal with those... people later.

He put on his pyjamas that Marcille had also taken the liberty to lay on the bathroom’s cupboard and walked out, expecting to either find Marcille still lost in her books or, most likely, having gone back to her own room.

Turns out, the former was true, but not the way he imagined.

“Had a nice bath, amore mio?” Marcille asked, closing the book she was reading and putting it on the nightstand. His nightstand. Yaad had made sure that the king’s bedroom had a king-sized bed for futureproofing, but Laios still froze in place when the situation of sliding into the covers when someone else was there presented itself.

“Marcille...”

“I know that face. I’m not forcing myself to do anything I don’t want to do.” Marcille told him, clearly trying to look disaffected, but he saw that she was blushing just as much as he knew he was.

“Didn’t you say it wasn’t time yet?” Laios had somehow managed to make it to bedside when he got that out. The last two times were, mostly, involuntary after all. Collapsing from mental exhaustion on top of the same bed, falling asleep on one of the endless scenery descriptions of the Daltian Clan on the latter. This was rather different.

“I’m not leaving you alone with the ghosts of your past after what happened today. Come on, I won’t bite.” Marcille replied, twiddling with her hair and looking towards her knees instead of him. Laios sheepishly nodded, pulling up the covers and sitting up on the opposite end of the bed. There was still space for at least two more people in-between them, and neither of the two seemed in a hurry to close it. “Do you want to talk? Or should I blow out the candles?”

“I don’t...” Laios stated, leaving the important part unsaid.

“But you have to.” Marcille completed, and he nodded.

“I don’t think there’s any other time or place where I can.” He explained, more to psych himself up than telling Marcille something she didn’t know. “I told you about what happened with Falin back at the village, right?”

“Yeah, and you made sure to remind them too.” Marcille replied, scuttling in place, maybe wondering if Laios wanted her to stay away. “Falin seems to have made peace with it though. Maybe it even was for the best.”

If it were anyone else, Laios would have snapped at them for merely implying that. But Marcille was the living embodiment that maybe it had all turned out for the best. Unfortunately, he knew that his most important treasure may have only come from that man’s choices. And that ate away at him. Why did everything go back to him.

“How much of that was them thinking what was best for her, and how much of that was their fear?” Laios snarled. “And even if it worked. What about everything else? What about keeping Falin betrothed to a kid that bullied her every day once he knew of her powers? Bethrowing a child in the first place! Not even giving her chance at succeeding him, even though she’s such a better option than me!”

“That is just your village’s way. He’s the chief, he has responsibilities.”

“He’s the chief, he could have changed things! I’m trying to change things!” he had to calm down. Marcille didn’t deserve this. She was trying to help. He beat his own knee.

“Not everyone is as strong as you Laios.” Marcille whispered, starting to scuttle towards him. If he had any space, he’d match her movements to move away. “But what about yourself? I know you care deeply about Falin, but I can see there’s more to it than that. You still listened to Thistle even after what he did to Falin. What did he do to you Laios?”

“...Nothing.” Laios replied, his face devoid of any emotion.

“There’s no way that’s-”

“You don’t understand Marcille! He did nothing! Nothing at all!” Laios shouted, trying to hold back tears. “He didn’t think much of me. I knew that. I always knew that. The way he looked at me when I didn’t react the way he wanted to Falin’s birth. I never forgot about it. Ever since that day, he saw me as nothing but a simpleton.”

“Laios, but why? You’re so-”

“I... I thought they understood me. Once they gave me that book! I learned to read through it. I learned to draw through copying it. He’d even take me on walks through the forest! But then... when I was sneaking out to grab some honey from the jar, I learned that it was my mother’s idea. To get it out of my system. I shouldn’t feel so angry. I was a child. Of course I’d have dumb ideas. But how could I trust them again? And if I couldn’t trust my own parents. Then how could I trust... anyone?” Laios looked back at Marcille, an apology left unsaid. “I never truly trusted you until... until you saved Falin. That’s the kind of person they made me.”

“That’s alright Laios. It was kind of mutual.” Marcille admitted, a cold comfort for both.

“I spent twelve years in that house! And it was worth so little to them!” he was crying now; he couldn’t hold back anymore. “I bet they were so relieved. That they had gotten rid of their... freaks.”

“You’re not a freak Laios. They don’t see you like that either. Sure, they may have misplaced the reasoning, but they did come for you.” Marcille tried to lean her head onto his shoulder, but this was Laios’ breaking point. She was... she was taking their side. He pushed her away. He tried to be gentle, but he still threw her into the pillow. Laios shrunk back in shame.

“They came because I’m a king now! Because they think I’m what they want me to be!” he yelled into his knees, the muffled screams still reaching Marcille. “They’d never have come otherwise. They’d never want me back. They... they can’t be doing this with the right intentions.”

“Why is it so hard to accept?” it was a genuine question from Marcille. She still wanted to know. She... wanted to know him still. The tears flowed again.

“I... can’t accept it. If I do I have to ask myself, what else are they right about?” he turned back to her, she was back in the position that had gotten her thrown about. He couldn’t understand why. “Am I really a simpleton? Are my passions things a normal person should have grown out of? Were they correct to just... leave me be? Am... am I the bastard here for refusing their love?”

She tried to clean his tears, but he looked away.

“All the pain I went through! Did I deserve it?! Were my army mates correct in hazing me?! Was my freedom worth taking a life over?! Did I waste years of Falin’s life just so she could care for me?! She didn’t even graduate!” he was bawling, but despite that, every time Marcille reached for him, he skimmed away. He was nearly at the edge. Any more and he’d fall. “Has being me ever made the world. No, the people I care about’s life’s better?” He breathed out, for the first time in a minute. “Maybe the lion was right. Maybe they were right too. Our village did have a demon in their mix. But it wasn’t Falin it... it was...”

A pair of arms wrapped around his head and pulled him into their owner’s chest as she forced the two of them to a lying position. Laios at first tried to pull away, but she was not having it. He closed his eyes and let her say her peace.

“A demon wouldn’t be afraid of being one.” Marcille told him softly, messing his hair her chin while she slightly loosened her iron grip, enough to let their eyes meet. She winked at him, adding: “I got that from a much better parent.”

“You saw that nightmare, didn’t you? I-”

“To many others, we’re both monsters. And maybe... that’s alright.” Marcille told him as she reupped the pressure against her chest when he tried to cut in again. “What are monsters really? Are they really that different from animals? Most people wouldn’t call Dungeon Rabbits monsters, but they are no different from a Sea Serpent. Animals with an abnormally high amount of mana.” she rubbed his back as she went on her tirade. “People define them as unatural because of magic’s influence. But magic is a natural phenomenon. What is natural to them? I never understood it until I met you two.” she loosened her grip again, just enough for Laios to not pass out from lack of air.

“You... you mean me and Falin?” he gasped, wary to push back again, the next time she pulled him in may be his end.

“Right! Monsters are natural for you two, aren’t they? But you aren’t natural to other people. So, I figured it out. The term monster is a bogeyman. We call things we fear monsters. And what do we fear? Things we don’t understand.” her eyes were aglow when she spoke about monsters now too. Was this how she saw him when doing it? Was he this attractive when talking about them? “So, really, if anyone calls you a monster and thinks that’s an insult, they are just ignorant!”

“You’re making a ton of sense, but I don’t think we can apply your idea of what a monster is to other people like that.” Laios replied with a chuckle, not expecting her smile to turn devious.

“Oh, but we can. You can. King Laios, Devourer of all that is Horrible. Declare it. Teach it at schools. Maybe it won’t spread out of this kingdom until a couple generations from now, but we can change this perception!” she grabbed both his hands and grinned. “Oh... sorry, this got way out of topic.”

“No! No. I think this helps.”

“What I was trying to say is...” she cupped his cheeks and pulled his head closer, close enough that tips of their noses rubbed on each other. “Laios Touden, you do not value yourself enough. You’re one of the fastest learners I know of. Entire bloodlines are made to learn magic at a fraction of your speed. You’re also kind to everyone, despite feeling alienated by them. You’re strong, smart... handsome.” Marcille still blushed at that. “Everyone that knows you, the real you, likes you. Laios you’re a bit... different. But that doesn’t make you less. In fact, the fact that you still manage to be all of this despite, maybe because of that, makes you so much more.”

“I… darn, I thought Falin was just being a good sister when she told me those kind of things.” Laios was the one blushing now. He never was good around compliments from anyone but Falin. She was so similar to him, so he always thought that, while well-intentioned, it came from a biased place. Marcille, she had started off disgusted by him, scared of him. She was everything the world wanted of a person. Being complimented by her, it felt like the world itself was accepting him.

“See? Me and Falin are here for you. We all are. You’re never going to be alone, with or without those two.” she murmured by his ear, caressing it soon after with her own. Laios felt like he was melting away along with his worries.

“Marcille, you’re the best...” he whispered, giggling at how such a small compliment caused her cheeks to glisten red.

“S-So I’m told!”

After a few minutes of that silence, Marcille spoke again.

“I still think you shouldn’t take the easy way out though...” she tentatively advised. Laios frowned a bit but let her continue. “From what Falin tells me, your parents sound like decent people. But from what you tell me, they are irredeemable.” she rubbed the side of her temples. “I want to believe it’s something in the middle, or gods willing, the former.”

“I really don’t think it’s that complicated.” Laios replied, he knew she meant well, but her parents were the ones that were decent, not his.

“See, that right there is a problem. You, well, us, we let our biases get in the way. We went in there asking for a fight, of course we got it!” she explained, looking more frustrated with herself than Laios. Laios tentatively nodded. He didn’t agree but he knew full well he wouldn’t be able to tell if it were true. “We still have to meet them one more time at least, even if it is because of official business. I have an idea, but it’s up to you. Laios, do you want to get to the bottom of this, or do you want to live without knowing what’s really inside that box?”

Laios really wanted to answer the latter. But the thing that had eaten away at him most had not been his past, it hadn’t even been the clash at the meeting, the insults, nothing like that. It was that, for a few moments, he was hopeful that they cared for him. Happy to maybe be proven wrong.

“I have one more attempt in me.” Laios, against his better judgement, replied with a nod. “So, what’s the plan?”

“We put your heart on display and see if they bite!” she exclaimed with a thumbs up. Laios started sweating. “Not literally!!!”

“Then...?”

“What else, you doofus? What’s more you than... Dungeon Food.” a simple suggestion that hit like a springtide’s breeze. Laios gulped, but nodded, a small smile on his face while Marcille blew out the candle. “But that’s a problem for the morning. Right now, let me work on soothing that soul of yours.” In the darkness, the king was free to simply be held, not like one, not like a man, but as himself. And all of this had begun because of one thing.

It all comes back to Dungeon Food.

“That being said, if you ever ditch me to go get drunk with ‘the boys’ again, don’t blame me if you wake up with more than a hangover.”

Oh, save me, Dungeon Food.

-*-

Chapter 14: Tounato Full-Course

Chapter Text

-*-

Falin mentally prepared herself to dispel the stunning spell on her parents. She still wasn’t sure of what she should say. What she wanted to say. Letters were controlled, impersonal. She could weave the tale as softly as it could be done. But they had seen everything now, in the worst way possible. If not for Marcille’s mother, it would have all crumbled down.

I’ll be on the other side of the door sweetie. If anyone but you walks out, they get stunned. Don’t worry about sounds, the room is isolated, only me and the people in the room will know what happened.

It was more than a bit terrifying how... mundane this situation was to that woman. What kind of job had her brother and sister gotten themselves into?

A problem for another day. She chanted the cancelation and dispelled it the only way she knew how. By gently smacking them with Licht.

This had the added benefit of immediately snapping them out of the daze as well. They looked around, confused, terrified even, it hurt Falin to see them do so. But once they realized the situation they were in, her mother broke down crying.

“I thought you were safe tytär... what went wrong?!” she cried out falling back on Falin’s bed. Her father was a lot more forward.

“Where’s the witch? Is she listening? If there’s anything you can do, give us a sign and-”

“My sister is not a witch!” Falin stated defiantly, the harshness in her tone freezing even her father in place. “I know you do not understand the true meaning of that word, so I won’t hold it against you. But Marcille means the world to me, I won’t let you slander her anymore.”

“Slander her... have you seen what she’s done to you? To your brother? She has him-”

“She has him smiling. Wanting to see another day. That goes for both of us. Marcille saved us just as much as we saved her. We are family now. Do you understand?” Falin tried to put it as softly as she could, even sitting by her mother’s side to not intimidate either. “She has not replaced the two of you... yet.”

“What kind of idiocy is this? She’s not even human! I’m sure she wears the skin of someone your age, but I’m sure she’s millennia old! If she doesn’t have magic holding you to do her bidding then-” her father exclaimed, swiping his arms around as he looked for an exit.

“Marcille’s fifty. If we go by how elves age, she would be a child.” Falin couldn’t blame the racism on him. Not yet. He hadn’t been exposed to the real world yet. “Elves are human father. Just as much as tall-men. And she’s half of one as well.”

“Madness... no hum-”

“Tall-man. And you’d honestly be blind if you didn’t see anything to love about her mother,” she added, the fire in her demanding her to add that Madeline had been a better mother than them, but she quashed it, she would not be a dragon. “Race has nothing to do with this. What I’m here to ask is... what kind of position do you think we are in?”

“Position?” her mother asked, always more willing to listen.

“Yes mother. Do you think that you two are in the position to come here and make demands of my brother?” she genuinely asked, she had expected her father and brother to butt heads, but from what she had seen and heard... “Do you really think us children still?”

“Falin, is this about my comment before?” Irina asked, and Falin sighed.

“It did touch a nerve. But that’s not why I brought you here.” she stood up and moved to a place where she could see both of her parents. “I brought you here so that you understand something. You did not forgive me when I wrote you a letter after so many years. I did. You do not get to come to my brother’s kingdom and act like you forgave him. You have nothing to forgive of him.”

“Falin... no, she must be being controlled right now!” Irina exclaimed in despair, hurting Falin not for her assumption, but for her truly thinking Falin couldn’t stand up for herself without someone else pulling her strings.

“Mother. If Marcille could control me, a mage with experience in the field. What chance would you two have against her mind control?” she posited, and they could not answer. “Worst of all, are you so ignorant of your children, that you wouldn’t be able to tell when it’s them talking and when it’s someone else?!”

“If it’s really you, then what happened to you?! That tail, it’s...” Ulfric began, but said tail smacked Falin’s desk to establish order.

“Maybe you’d know, if you had just talked with us, instead of threatening us and calling insulting the person we care about most in the world!” she yelled, letting her frustrations out just this once. She wanted to mend bridges, but before that could be done, you had to burn the sickly wood. “Listen to me. I appreciate you coming here, more than you can imagine. But understand this. You’re the ones asking for forgiveness here. You’re the ones in the wrong. If you cannot accept this. If you make me choose between my brother and you two?”

She turned her back and moved to the door.

“You won’t ever see or hear from me, ever again.” Falin put her hand on the doorknob and turned to her parents. “I’ll do my best to have my brother give you a second chance. I suggest you take it. If any word of this gets out...”

The silence said it all.

“Do I have your word, that you’ll be silent?” she questioned, no, ordered.

“For as long as I am in this country, this will stay in the family.” her father replied, even as fury burned in his eyes. He would never break his word. Falin opened the door and he raged out like a hurricane, nearly being shot down by Madeline before Falin shook her head.

“I’m sorry for your father my little tytär, he’s just... women like us can’t understand the burdens men ca-”

Smack

Falin herself gasped as Madeline slammed her palm across Irina’s face so hard it knocked her off her feet.

“What a sorry person you are. Do you do nothing but hide behind excuses?!” Madeline growled, levitating her back on her feet. “What kind of mother sees their children suffer and sits by and excuses it?!”

Irina was stunned silent. Madeline knelt beside her and burned her gaze into her eyes.

“Your sorry excuse for a husband needs you to do your job as a wife and tell him when he’s wrong. If you can’t even do that, at least be a mother to your kids.” she pushed her cane beneath Irina’s chin, Falin was starting to fear she may go too far. “Or else, I’ll make damn sure neither of you will ever hurt them again. By any means necessary. Understood?!”

Irina crawled away, nodding. Madeline turned her back on her and back to Falin.

“Fa-fa, are you okay with giving these... people, a second chance?” she asked, clearly no longer charitable to the option. Falin resolutely nodded.

“Yes. I want to believe they are good people.” she looked at Irina and smiled. “Please Mother, you made me who I am... I want to trust you.”

“I...” Irina clenched her hand and forced herself up. “I’ll talk with Ulfric. I-I’ll make him see reason.” Madeline ooh’d, Falin smiled. The last time she saw her mother determined to do anything was to cure her. Hopefully this time, her determination could be put to a healthier cause.

“I’m sure my brother will come around too. I hope we can be a family again.” Falin told her mother, who, behind the tears, replied:

“If God would answer only one prayer of me, it would be that I wish he would.”

The women parted, clinging on memories of better days for hope.

-*-

Wistfulness filled Marcille as she guided the barbing razor through the foam created by the shaving soap. She had not done this in decades, but, like many things from that time, this too had become engraved into her soul.

“Are you sure you didn’t have a partner before me?” Laios asked, snapping Marcille’s focus in half, and with it, came flying a chunk of skin. “I wasn’t insulting you!” her current, and only mind you, partner yelped while covering the wound.

“Where did that question come from?” a, pretty obviously ticked off, Court Magician questioned, pushing Laios’ hand away and healing the wound purposefully as fast as possible, causing another yelp.

“It’s just... why else would you know how to shave someone’s beard? Why are you even the one shaving me?” the tall-man asked, wearing the same dazed expression he had had ever since he had been dragged to this bench from bed. “I did this a lot, ya know?”

“First of all, I’ve been there when you showed up with a beard you shaved yourself. I’m not going to let that sight be the ones your parents see when you’re supposed to be ‘putting your best foot forward’!” his barber snapped back, being reminded of all the times this grown ass man had shown up to an expedition meeting with whole tufts of beard still sticking out of an otherwise shaved face, necessitating Falin to walk him back and finish it for him.

“I got better! We spent a month in the dungeon, and you didn’t- AH!” another slab of meat flew off. Marcille smacked him with the back of the razor.

“Don’t talk when I’m cutting!” she hissed. He whined as she healed it again. “I... wanted to alleviate any mental load I could. But clearly, I’m just making it worse.” she sighed as she finished the final swipe. His face was spotless at least, if you ignored the blood splashes. She still got it!

“On the contrary, this way I’m not second guessing myself the entire day. Thank you, amore mio!” and to hit her with the correct version of their little code right as she pumped her fists. He was getting too good at pushing her buttons.

“You know, you’re quite attractive even with a beard. I don’t see why you never tried to wear it for a while.” Marcille pondered, a tiny Hareus in the back of her head being more and more quashed by the image of a rugged Laios making off with her in a bridal carry.

“Falin didn’t like it.” Laios replied while washing his face. “Said it reminded her too much of... Ulfric.” Oh.

“I’m so sorry Laios!” Marcille exclaimed, turning him around and repeatedly kissing his newly smoothed out cheeks. “I didn’t know! I’ll just shut up now-” he began laughing. Marcille felt herself shrinking as she realized the kind reaction, she had just dropped on him. It was true that in her village, kissing someone’s cheeks was among other things, a greeting, so this wasn’t too out of the ordinary, just a bit over-the-top due to their closeness. But for him... gods she must have looked so desperate.

“Don’t worry about it! Hopefully after today, however it goes, I can put that behind me.” Laios’ eyes were glimmering with hope again. She could still see it, the small tremors that none of their friends noticed on him during their harshest moments, but he was not broken anymore. “Attractive, heh? I only really learned to shave to stop looking like him, so I don’t know much about maintaining one. I should visit a barber or two for tips. Maybe Yaad?” he mumbled while looking at the mirror. Marcille giggled, remembering how he really put his all into everything he cared about, didn’t he? He probably deserved an answer to that first question.

“I learned to shave because of my Papà,” she told him, wrapping her arms around his exposed torso and laying her chin on his shoulder. In a strange sense, even this was something they shared. “He was losing coordination, and Mamma was becoming so busy between her housework, managing finances, and keeping him comfortable, that I learned how to help. You’re only the second person I do this with.”

“Sorry I doubted you, my cucciola,” he replied, being the one to initiate their little ear tango. Marcille gasped.

“Where did you learn that?!” even as her heart fluttered, she had to know, she was afraid the answer being related to that nosy mother of hers, but the answer was simultaneously more and less romantic.

“Oh, I got it right? You called me cucciolo, and the book says your words are gendered, most of the times you add an ‘a’ to the end and it becomes girly. So I went for it!” others would claim ownership of the feat, and maybe to a younger Marcille, that would have been more romantic. But to her now, nothing was more special than the degree of trust he put in her.

“You’re... trying to learn my hometown language?” she whispered, her brain fully aware of what a stupid, wasteful, ignorant decision it was for a tall-man king to learn a language only spoken in a small kingdom they had not once interacted with. That information didn’t seem to register to any other part of her body, which was burning red. “You have so many better ways to use your time!” her mouth shouted as soon as she regained control of it.

“Will any of them make your smile as bright as it is now?” he asked, a rhetorical question if she ever heard one. As, even now, she couldn’t wipe idiotic grin of her face, nor bring herself to clean the couple of tears training down her cheeks. He really was a bleeding heart.

An idea formed in her addled brain. She looked at the scissors on the cupboard, then back to Laios’ now shoulder-length hair, it had been over a month since he had gotten a cut after all, what with all the near-death experiences and all.

“Since you’re so interested in Esperian, how about I give you a traditional hairstyle of the region?” she suggested, not expecting the stars to show up on his eyes. She sometimes forgot that Laios was a sucker for all that is new, not just monsters.

“Wait, but didn’t you lose that ability and only barely got it back?” he asked, and it was a valid question. One that Marcille was partially trying to put to a test.

“I lost the desire to braid my hair. Let’s test with your scalp, shall we?” she must have had a smile more akin to her researching one than her lover one, because she could feel the sweat start to drip from Laios’ skin. She probably could have worded that better. “Oh don’t worry Laios, we were going to cut it off anyway!”

Phrasing.

“M-Marcille, please, put down the scissors. You were going to style my hair, ri-right?!” he begged as she approached him.

“Some of your hair is uneven. Don’t worry, I cut Falin’s hair once or twice, I’m not as rusty!” she snapped her scissors as she approached. “Now, my little cucciolo, stay still or we may have to go bald.”

“Faliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin!”

-*-

“Brother, I thought I heard you calling for me a while ago, are you alright?” Falin asked, making her way back to the King’s room. She made her way to the bathroom, where she saw Marcille making a grim expression. “Marcille, what happe-”

“Wow, Marcille, this is amazing!” Laios exclaimed, looking at his back with the help of the mirror. Marcille had to agree. It looked great on him. But it just felt off...

“Laios, let me have another go...” she sighed, reaching for the scissors again. Laios immediately hid behind Falin, even though she was clearly giving him the side eye.

“Why are you both looking at me like that?! I think this looks cool!” Laios screamed. Falin tsk’d as she pulled on the longer hair.

“I thought we agreed short hair was cooler!” she replied, filled with pettiness. “I can’t believe a couple of kisses and some bed sharing made you jump over to Sis’ field! Did she do something special to get you to go along with this?!”

“Of all things for you to be obstinate about!” Laios yelped while forcefully being spun around. Falin seemed to examinate the hairdo. It was spotless, all the hair on his scalp had been combed and trimmed to perfection, and the extra hair falling over his neck had been styled into the beginnings of a braid, but tied together with one of Marcille’s red ribbons and flowing down to just below his shoulder-height naturally from there.

“Preference aside, this is really well-done Mar. What’s making you want to cut it?” Falin asked, Laios breathing out in relief.

“I just... I instinctually gave him Papà’s favourite hairstyle back from when I was a kid,” Marcille replied, her nostalgia and even her pride at a successful work being overridden by shame. “I don’t want you to think I’m using you as a replacement Laios! Come here, I’ll give you your own look back.”

“Oh, that’s it?” Laios questioned, no longer fearing her. He walked over to her and she expected him to sit back on his chair, but instead, he replicated the apology kisses she gave him earlier. Once he was done, she was properly stunned. “What you gave me is an honour Marcille. It’s like you said yesterday, I’m different, if you wanted to replace your Papà with someone, it certainly wouldn’t be me!”

“Well... yes. But I just didn’t want you to think that...” Marcille told him, chest a bit lighter. Maybe it had just been paranoia again.

“And I don’t. And really, if we’re going there to show them what we are now, together, what better way to do so than having me carry some of you with me?” Laios proposed, eyebrows tilting up like they did when something hit his brain. “Well, beyond the fact that I always carry your heart.”

“Oh, shut up Uranesse.” Marcille chuckled, knowing exactly where he had gotten that line from. It was still strange that Laios of all people would be pulling quotes from the Daltian Clan on her. “But alright, you can keep that one for today. I still want to find you something that really suits you though!”

“I was thinking. Since you don’t seem to have problems doing my hair, and I managed to do an okay job with your hair... how about we make that permanent?” Laios suggested, Marcille tilting her head. “That way, we both get our magic ready to go, and we cut on the mental strain you need to put on yourself to do it by yourself, or the need for a maid to do it.”

“That’s... a great idea actually!” Marcille nodded, thinking back on how styling Laios’ hair felt just as, if not more, fun and interesting than when she did her own. Maybe it was the first-person view on it instead of having to guess through mirrors and hands.

“Are you sure Mar? If you don’t work on it, you may never get your own skills back.” Falin cautioned, which was understandable, Marcille had always gone on and on about how this was what relaxed her the most.

“For moments like this, I’d sacrifice far more than simply braiding my own hair.” Marcille replied with a smile, leaning against Laios and opening her arm to beckon Falin in. Falin smiled and approached her brother and, hopefully soon-to-be sister-in-law. All three embraced, mentally preparing themselves for the day to come.

“They said yes, by the way. Very fast even.” Falin told the two once they broke their embrace.

“That’s a good sign. Laios, still up for it?” Marcille asked, Laios carefully nodded.

“Alright Marcille, go tell Kabru I won’t be available for the entire day!” he said like that was the most natural thing in the world. She whipped him with the towel repeatedly.

“Tell him yourself, you coward!” she screeched, knowing exactly what kind of reaction the rest of the council would have.

“If I tell him he’ll finally go for my throat, you saw his eyes yesterday!” Laios squeaked back, his eyes glistening like a hurt puppy’s. Marcille massaged her forehead. She could not win against those eyes.

“I guess I did say I wanted your focus to be solely on dinner...” she sighed and prepared to stare a killer in the face.

What’s new with these people?

-*-

The appointed time was here. The sun was setting, the wing of the castle had been wiped clean of all servants so that Marcille wouldn’t need to isolate the room with magic and further damage their trust and Laios sat on one side of the table that had, not two months prior, been a stage of cheer and shame alike when they received Chilchuck’s family. In concept, today would be very similar. Many things sounded a lot simpler than they were.

All the downtime they had while cooking, they had spent planning. Not just who would cook what and other related things, but even details that eluded Laios even after months of being taught how to rule. Like how there were no chairs at the head of the table, so as to not imply Laios would be exerting his powers by sitting at it. They’d sit on equal ground, like... well, like an attempt at a family.

As soon as the bell began tolling to announce it was seven in the evening, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in.” Laios replied, mildly amused at how some things never changed. Perfectly punctual as always, even if it meant that he had had to stay by the door waiting for the bell to force him to take that step.

“Thank you for having us.” his mother replied, Laios raising an eyebrow when she, and not her husband, made her way in first. What happened to ‘walking two steps behind your husband’? That hesitation had given Marcille her cue to stand up and receive them like she had yesterday, but this time, Laios had the will to quickly stand up and do his job.

“It is the least we could do after what happened yesterday. Please, take a seat, Marcille, will you tell Falin they arrived?” Laios recited, a simple statement that nonethless he had practiced tens of time in his head. His mother broke a small smile, while that man just gave a polite nod. He did, however, help his wife take a seat, which was a small improvement from the previous day.

“I’ll be back in a minute then!” Marcille replied with a smile directed at him more than the other two. There was a bit of pride in there, but also a bit of relief.

Once he was sitting across the table from his parents though... he found himself counting the seconds until someone else came to back him up. There wasn’t any upfront dissent from either party anymore, but that had been replaced by an equal amount of awkwardness. All three present Toudens exchanged glances and broke away, sometimes after attempting to start a sentence. Well, Ulfric never attempted, but the other two did. Strangely enough, the one to break the deadlock was...

“How long has it been since we sat at the dinner table together Laios? Fifteen? Going on sixteen years now?” Irina asked, laying her face against her palm, a unconscious movement that she did whenever she was trying to calm herself. Laios was honestly a bit impressed.

“Yeah, I think so. Though usually it’d be us waiting for you to finish cooking, not for Falin...” making small talk was hard enough for Laios but doing so with them... yeah.

“Oh, is Falin cooking? I thought you’d have people for that kind of thing.” she asked innocently.

“We wanted to show you two how we’ve been taking care of ourselves in the last five years.” Laios answered with another pre-written answer. The truth, but just enough of it for now.

“Falin has been cooking for you all these years then?! I’m glad, she seemed to so disinterested in my lessons!” his mother said with a rare pep and satisfaction on her voice. It even made Laios reconsider saying that Falin was kind of a disaster in the kitchen and the hardest part of the cooking process had been finding a dish she wouldn’t screw up.

“We’ve all been supporting each other on it actually.” he explained, Irina’s eyes opening wide, probably at the realization that her son was good at something useful. It annoyed Laios a bit that that was such a revelation, but he kept going. “So, it only made sense to keep it going for this. This dinner is a family matter, so the cooking was a family effort.”

“Is that so? What is the da- the Court Magician doing here then?” Ulfric cut in, the strangely comfortable atmosphere that Laios and Irina had built up sliced by the edge in that tone. Laios cringed but held himself back.

“Like I told you yesterday, Marcille has been more of a family to us than you two have been.” Laios replied between gritted teeth. That man finally met his eyes with an accusatory glare.

“I presume that is why my children have become less and less human the more time you spent beside her?” he prodded, and he would have gotten the fight Laios was sure he was aching for, if not for someone being a better human than he was.

“You’re right.” Marcille stated from the entrance to the kitchen. She hastily made her way towards the Touden’s side of the table, only Laios’ unwavering trust in her keeping him in place and looked at Ulfric in the eyes even as he stood up to tower over the girl of a shorter race. “We were cursed. We do not know by who, or what the curse is. But I am the eldest, I am his Court Magician, I am the one who was privy to it, and my evaluation on the nature of it and a situation I caused made it advance to the stage it is in. I take full responsibility for that.” guilt plain on the half-elf’s face, she took Ulfric’s hand and leaned her forehead into the back of it in the midst of a long bow. “For this, and this alone, you may choose to hate me.”

“What do you expect to gain from revealing that?” Ulfric questioned, not threatened, not accused. He looked just as confused as his wife.

“I expect you to blame me for mistakes of I have actually committed.” the former Dungeon Lord told the chief while returning to her normal stance. “There’s plenty of reasons for some people to hate me, so I get really ticked off when someone makes up their own. I can’t work to atone for crimes I haven’t even committed.”

“... Alright. I’ll withdraw yesterday’s accusation then, for now.” Laios could not believe the words that had come out of Ulfric’s mouth. This man, walking back on his words?! He wouldn’t even walk back on an engagement with a clearly abusive partner. Was this all Marcille or... he had to know now.

“I truly appreciate it!” Marcille answered with a smile but made sure to aim it at Laios and not the person she was talking to. It may have been strange to the others, but she probably realized that Laios couldn’t take something so precious to him like her smile being directed at Ulfric yet. It seemed to get the message across either way.

“I’m glad to see everyone is getting along!” Falin exclaimed while hopping out of the kitchen while balancing a pair of trays. Both Ulfric and Irina recoiled at the sight while looking at below her waist and she seemed to notice, as, after laying both trays on the table, she looked down to examine if she had gotten anything on her. “Did I get egg on me brother?”

“Falin, what are you wearing?!” Irina exclaimed, pointing at her waist. Turning around, Falin wagged her tail and replied:

“Oh, since the mimic’s out of the chest, I suggested we just chose our dresses regardless of our, well, extra parts. I’m good at sewing, don’t worry, if I ever get this tail out, I can fix these pants!”

“You’re wearing pants Falin! A suit! You’re a woman!” Irina screeched, horrified. Laios, Falin and even Marcille looked at each other and just... laughed. Of all things to be worried by.

“Oh, I only wear skirts to hide the tail. Can’t remember the last time I wore one before this thing popped up!” Falin replied in the middle of her chuckling. It was true though; she had even asked Laios if it was okay for her to continue wearing men-ish clothes now that the practicality of them had vanished with the original dungeon gone. But for people of their village, seeing Falin matching Laios’ red and gold suit, minus only the lion cape, to a formal occasion, did probably seem... strange.

“I... I see.” Irina mumbled.

“Are you confident in being able to find a match while dressing like that?” It was clear that Ulfric had to try really hard to not word it judgementally but given Falin’s current situation... it was just extra funny.

“Honestly your daughter needs more help keeping undesirables away than finding ones...” Marcille rolled her eyes, no doubt thinking about the guy she seemed so weirdly against. Shuro was a cool dude!

“W-Well if that’s the case. Other continents are quite something I see...” Ulfric stumbled onto the back of his seat, Laios relishing seeing him out of his depth for once.

“Well, with that out of the way, how about we get this party going? My contribution is the appetizers. Eat them up while they are still pipping hot!” Falin exclaimed, numerous magical fireflies surrounding her dishes as she served them!

Tounato Full-Course

Appetizer

Melini Styled: Sienimunakas-kääryle

All that had stayed out of the kitchen marvelled at how... exquisite of a dish it looked, especially coming from Falin. Sliced omelette rolls served in a bed of aromatic herbs, filled with soft white cream and small slices of mushroom, onion and both black and white pepper and topped with thinly sliced cheese. It was a feast for the eyes and noses, but for Irina, it seemed to be a feast for the soul as well.

“This... is the last recipe I tried to teach you! But you were so...” she stuttered, trying, as always, to not kick up a fuss.

“Yup, I was terrible, but I practiced a lot back at the Academy!” Falin’s head tilted happily from side to side while Marcille covered her mouth. Laios knew Marcille’s pain, being Falin’s willing guinea pigs. “Looks great, doesn’t it? Hope it tastes just as well!”

No one in the room was immune to her whimsical enthusiasm, no one. They all immediately grabbed their silverware and dug in, prepared to maintain a bright smile even if they meal would make even a demon wretch.

Surprisingly though, it all worked out perfectly. The sourness of the cream contrasting with the savouriness of the omelette, then letting the pepper and salt break through your palette just in time to be washed out by the mushroom’s umami. The consistency was on point too. It left a sweet aftertaste in your mouth, which to the elder Toudens would definitely feel strange given the ingredients, but Laios would not speak on why.

“Falin, this is amazing!” Ulfric told his youngest daughter, his eyes for the first time filled with cheer. Irina nodded rapidly while taking in different combinations of the ingredients. Falin’s smile could illuminate a cavern, and it pumped pride and joy into her brother’s chest.

“This is... so different from what mine tasted like. But it works so well. What else went into this? What’s your secret ingredient sweetie?!” Irina’s eyes were also gleaming. Falin laughed, eyeing her brother and Marcille, who both had to slightly shake their heads. Not yet.

“I followed your recipe but, you know… Melini’s weather and land is very different. They probably taste different because of it. Plus, I used magic to control the fire’s temperature, so that may have affected the taste!” Falin quickly excused, and, at least for Ulfric, it seemed to work out. But Irina seemed... a bit affected by it.

“Magic...” she whispered, looking down on the dish. “The same kind of magic that made you like that Falin?”

“Oh. No! Nono, you got it all wrong mother!” Falin flailed her arms, looking at Marcille for help. Marcille kind of shrugged, she never had talked with someone with this barren of a knowledge with magic.

“Ir-... Mother.” Laios called, meeting her fearful gaze with a reassuring smile. “Magic is as diverse as the animals that roam our forests. You can make fires, pacify spirits, grow plants... raise the dead. It’s scary, overwhelming, and it should be. When I was learning it, I realized that you weren’t too wrong to be afraid of what may happen to her.’” he looked at Falin to make sure he hadn’t said anything wrong, she nodded in support.

“You’ve... learned magic as well? But you weren’t... back at the cemetery-” Ulfric questioned, but Marcille cut him off.

“Laios’ proficiency is very different from Falin. He’s an incredibly talented mage, but Falin’s best at dealing with sprits and barriers, Laios excels at close range magic and healing. Plus... Falin’s pretty instinctual, Laios’ more book smart.” Marcille and Laios both visualized Falin’s ‘Boom, pshaaa, kaplow’ explanations of how her magic worked. “As his teacher, I was, and still am, thoroughly impressed at his progress. Though he still lacks some of the basics.” Ulfric looked... embarrassed of something, regretful even. Laios kept going though.

“What I was saying is that magic is... a tool. It’s not good, it’s not evil. It’s like a sword.” Marcille playfully elbowed him in the arm. “Yes, I’m stealing that from the one who taught me.” His mother still looked worried, still looked a bit scared of what she had just eaten. Falin took it up for herself.

“I wouldn’t be here without it. It didn’t go... exactly as planned, but Marcille did her best. She risked her life, her freedom for me. Would you rather me not be here at all? Or just be a bit fluffier and scalier than usual?” Falin asked, pinching her eyes open with a smile. “Plus, I can see well now, so it’s not all bad, right?!”

“Your eyes were always so pretty...” her mother replied, reaching over the table to hold her daughter’s hand. “And it’s still you, despite it all.”

“Well, now yes. We had to untangle some stuff off me before that. But the details can wait!” Falin replied, clearly worrying Ulfric, but her mother had seen, maybe even felt, enough.

“I wasn’t asking. I’m your mother Falin. I can tell. You’re different, but you’re still my little tytär!” she said, tears starting to glisten in the last rays of the sun. “I’m sorry for trying to beat this out of you. For sending you away. For being... afraid of you. I see now that we’ve only been told what it can take from us. Not what it can give. What it can give back. Can you ever forgive me?”

“It’s okay Mother. It’s how I met Marcille. How I discovered the world beyond my home. There’s no longer anything left for me to forgive.” though comforting and kind, Falin’s words betrayed a hidden message to her parents. There had been things she had had to forgive. Things Laios still could not. But this gesture from Iri- his mother. It had given him hope. A tiny flicker, but a stubborn one. His mother wiped away her tears and she and Falin shared a warm smile, both Laios and Marcille supporting their little sister. Laios couldn’t quite smile yet, but he gave his mother an approving nod.

They finished the appetizers in silence. Laios checked his hourglass and excused himself, it was his time. He moved to the kitchen and then...

” So, Falin told us a lot about you in her letters, but we weren’t aware you were close with our son as well. If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your relationship with him?” Laios heard his mother ask as soon as he was past the door. He nearly had a heart attack when Marcille, with zero hesitation, answered with a definitive.

“We’re lovers.” Laios’ head popped out from behind the doorway and found his mother’s flabbergasted gaze while that man looked like he was regretting being right. He wasn’t sure which of them ticked him off mo- it was Ulfric. He couldn’t even blame his mother for being shocked, he still couldn’t believe it. “It’s a recent thing.”

“If it weren’t, I’d have told you all about it in the letter!” Falin professed, warming Laios’ heart with how much her expressions glowed ever since her mother’s apology. “When they first met, Marcille seemed like she was going to blast his head off, but then we did some dungeon delving and she seemed to hit it off with him. I thought they’d be fast friends like me and Mar but when Laios told me how beautiful Marcille’s smile was... I made them my mission!”

“Wait, what? I had barely arrived at the island then!” Marcille squeaked in horror, realizing the true lengths of Falin’s long haul. “I was creeped out by him more often than not! I didn’t find him... amenable until after I woke up from that nightmare with the cute dog.”

“I mean, I wasn’t going to force it if you weren’t interested. That’s why I didn’t put my moves on until after I came back. By then it was clear it was mutual!” Falin spoke like she was just so sure of it, Marcille looked at him and she was clearly just as confused as to how she had understood that so early.

“Wait, if you knew it was mutual, why didn’t you tell me during all those times we talked about it?!” Laios shouted from the doorway, feeling as betrayed as Marcille probably felt hearing they had conspired behind her back.

“Oh, that would be cheating. You two had to earn each other!” Falin slipped her tongue out and winked, both sides of the couple trying really hard to not smack her upside the head. At least his mother seemed incredibly entertained, and was that... a faint hint of a smile on Ulfric’s mouth? He couldn’t quit see it from where he was. He had half a mind to get in the room to clobber Falin as an excuse to get closer, but then she said: “You have to see them kissing. They are so clumsy and adorable!”

And he was out of there.

Marcille, sorry, but I am not strong enough to help you in this battle.

-*-

When he returned with his dish, Marcille was practically fused to her chair as Falin told his mother about things he really, really didn’t want to hear about.

Laios dish' was still covered by a ceramic lid of the same material it had been plated in. It had all been boiled in the same place after all, and he wanted the tastes go mix and congeal as long as they possibly could. Any more would burn the meat though. So, breaking the surprisingly excited talk between his sister and his mother, he laid his dish on the table and, even against his better judgement, he added a tiny explosion above as he removed the lid.

Tounato Full-Course

Main Dish

Melini Styled: Hunting Meats Cozido Mix

As was tradition between him and Falin, his dish was a lot less appealing from a purely aesthetic point of view. Just a variety of meat types, sausages and chorizos circling a boiled salad. But he knew that Ulfric would recognize these meats. They were all undistinguishable from the game he hunted. Boar sausages and chorizo, deer cutlets, buffalo paw and loin, goat torso, chicken breasts, all accompanied with white potatoes and surrounding a mix of what looked to be cabbages, onions carrots and other boiled vegetables. The presentation and the quantity were very different from what they had at home, but in it he had put as many of that man’s trophies as he could remember. He was grateful Senshi was in town to nod and say this wouldn’t turn into a mess of flavours.

“Laios, are you sure you can afford to waste all that meat on us?” Ulfric asked, quickly using his thumb to clean his lips for the brief moment saliva sparkled at the side of his mouth.

“We don’t have many mouths to feed yet, and food is very much not our concern in these lands. Eat up everyone, it’s seasoned with my heart and soul!” that last bit was Marcille’s idea, way too poetic for Laios. But it did seem to strike a chord with his mother and Ulfric.

As was tradition in his village, they ate in silence, and while Laios was interested in the fruits of his work, he made sure to copy that man as he ate, to see, smell, feel and taste all he did and note his reaction. Jumping from the sweet and intense boar flavours to the rich and somewhat sour deer, the hardy and familiar oxen beef flavour, accompanied by the vegetables and finishing with the umami and savoury of the chicken. The meal had taken long enough for the sun to give way to the moon, but after it was done, Laios would only remember one thing about it. Ulfric had smiled the whole way through.

“This was a feast Laios. Hunting in other lands must be quite the spectacle...” he remarked with a faintly disguised whiff of longing and envy. Laios looked over to Marcille and Falin, they nodded. It was time.

“I wouldn’t mind taking you on a hunting trip before you go.” he told Ulfric, both him and his mother returning a gaze to him that they hadn’t in decades. One that would absolutely return his request with acceptance. But not yet. It would be taking the easy route. They had to accept him for what he truly was. “If you aren’t afraid to hunt monsters.”

The air in the room ran cold. More specifically, on the opposite side of the table. Falin was awkwardly smiling, but both Marcille and Laios looked impassively while both Toudens stared, horrified at what they had just eaten. As the denial began creeping in, Falin cut through it.

“The majority of the ingredients in this meal have been sourced from monsters.” and in doing so, she made sure that the blame would not fall on Laios alone.

It was a foolhardy plan, but that in of itself, was also a part of bearing their heart to their parents.

No one was surprised when a plate flew inches away from Laios’ head.

“What is your game Laios?! If I can even call you that anymore!” Ulfric roared, grabbing his knife and pointing it towards Marcille. “Is this some sort of ritual?! Is this how you took their wills?!”

“Come now, Lord Ulfric, if it were that easy, wars would be fought at the dinner table.” Marcille replied, no longer adding the mocking implications she did yesterday. This was a perfectly reasonable response. They had gotten it dozens of times by now. She had been many of them already. It was what they did with the realization that mattered.

“Then why...?” their mother questioned, moments before Laios laid the Dungeon Gourmet Guide on the table and stared back.

“That children’s book?!” Ulfric fell back on his chair, first aghast, then breaking out into laughter. “So, this is it, huh?! They granted an entire country to a child parading as a man. Do you even know that that-”

“I know this book was fake. A fairy tale. Most of its assumptions made from someone who had eaten one or two monsters to survive.” Laios opened the book, flipping through the book and all of its marked pages, opening it on the Barometz. He showed it to his parents, and though they didn’t remember the book as he did, they could see the lines that he had crossed while redrawing and rewriting it. “That book is gone. This is the copy I had to make as my comrades would slowly tear it to shreds in the army. It was my single most treasured memory of my time at home. And it’s gone.”

“What are you implying?”

“That the bridge that was still connecting us is long gone. I’ve made my peace with it.” Laios sighed but stood up to match that man with a serene look in his face. “But I am willing to build a new bridge.”

“And for that, you fed us poison?!” Ulfric stabbed the dish he had served it on with his knife, cleaving through the clay and into the table.

“I fed you my experiences. I remade this book with them. I saved Falin with them. If you really think they are poison, just leave.” This was the line in the sand. If Ulfric would not even give him this much ground, Laios was more than happy to cut him off. And for a while, this seemed to be the case. Ulfric looked down at the plates, then at Falin’s monster parts, wretched. His right foot raised... but didn’t move. Irina reached out to her husband’s arm hand and pulled it back down. The elder Toudens shared a gaze, the despair, anger, betrayal and many other swirling emotions in Ulfric’s expression clashing with Irina’s pleading one. That man bit his lip and let himself fall back on the chair.

“Explain.” he sighed. Falin’s eyes lit up and she cheered quietly, but Laios knew they were not out of the woods yet. As he sat, Marcille layered her hand over his. He nodded back to Ulfric and did just that.

“Falin died, you know what, right? She died to save me.” The two of them nodded.

“It’s still hard to believe… they you can come back from the beyond.” Their mother mumbled. A while ago, it would be normal for Laios, but the more he learned of it, the more he agreed with Senshi. It was not normal. It should never be normal.

“Me, Marcille and Chilchuck immediately ran back to the dungeon after she was eaten. We were broke, my key to the vault was gone, we’d never be able to afford food and reach Falin in time. So, we did the only thing we could do. We fed on monsters.” Ulfric nodded, he seemed to have guessed that already. “Monsters are just animals, altered by magic. As long as you understand them, as long as you know how to prepare them, they are no different from normal food either. We had help from Senshi, he lived in the dungeon for decades, at first, but it was Monster Food that kept us healthy. That lead us to Falin.”

“Not only that, but we only lost to the Red Dragon because it we were hungry. Because we had a prejudice against eating monsters…” Falin explained, shaking her head. “If more people thought like brother I wouldn’t even have needed rescuing!”

Irina seemed to be terrified, Ulfric looked conflicted. They didn’t know enough, they could tell.

“I’ve been there. To be afraid of what you just ate. Expecting it to burst out of you at any moment.” Marcille stated, chuckling a couple times while looking at Laios. “I was also the one screaming at Laios every time he suggested a new weird beast to chow down on, just like you. If Falin’s life hadn’t been on the line… I’d never have listened to him.”

“That’s why we didn’t tell you what went into the food. We wanted you to taste it, free of prejudice. This food, for better and for worse, is what we are made of now. It’s what got us where we are now. It was by focusing on what was inside every living being and not on their outer shell that we got this far.” Laios said, taking a small bow. “Please, just this once. Try to understand what is on the inside of your children.”

“Try to understand... what’s inside of my children?!” Ulfric gasped. Laios raised his head, hopeful. His mother looked scared, but, not of him. No. Ulfric looked... enraged. Teeth cracking under the pressure, eyes bloodshot in fury. “Have you ever tried to do the same Laios?! Do you have any idea what your actions wrought on your family?! Falin died because of you! If you hadn’t taken her from her school, she’d have come back to the village and lived a happy li-”

“Don’t you dare say that!” Laios gave up. If a fight is what this man wanted, it’s a fight he’d get. “Don’t you dare say she’d be happy married to someone who abused her for years! The fact that you think Falin would ever be happy locked in a prison says too much about you!”

“And it says a lot about you that you think you haven’t put her in a much worse position. She’s a monster now! I... I can accept it, accept her. She’s my daughter! But do you think anyone will accept her if she ever leaves this country?!” Ulfric shot back, this barb truly hitting everyone on the other side of the table. “I came here to save you. Both of you. I can make people accept Falin in our village. I can give you a place to be that won’t result in you losing everyone you care about!”

“Don’t screw with me! Why don’t you ever put any degree of trust in me?! Why do you always see me for a simpleton?!” Laios had to be restrained from walking around the table.

“I did put my trust in you! I’ve always trusted you! That is I let you go! I never sent a search party for you. I thought you’d do us proud, become a great general, bring honour to our village!”

“You... how dare you...” Marcille snarled, gripping her staff and putting a foot on the table, pointing Ambrosia straight at the elder Touden. “Don’t you dare twist that into benevolence. You ran away. You abandoned him. You couldn’t see a future for Laios, so instead of helping him, trying to understand him, you washed your hands of him!” she screamed, tears starting to form on her eyes. “Laios... Laios died you know. Because of me. I tried to resurrect him, but he didn’t want to come back! You know why?!” she pushed her staff into the man’s chest. “Because of you!!”

“M-Me?” he took a step back, hesitation for the first time gripping him visibly.

“Yes, you! Memories of you! Your existence, the time he spent with you, made him want to stay dead! He’s alive because of his friends, because of his sister, and yes, because of me. Because unlike you, I love the Laios that is beside me. Not the one I dreamt up!” the air around Marcille began to crackle and the table beneath her feet started to sizzle, but Falin managed to pull her away in time. “Laios’ life was nothing but suffering. I guess I was right to think you could never understand him.” Ulfric was shaken, but still pressed on.

“You think we had a good life ever since my children left?” Ulfric groaned, breaking his gaze away. “You think anyone would respect a chief whose children were a deserter and a witch? Our lives are not like yours; we are quickly running out of time. We tried to have more children to continue the line, but the gods gave us only a fresh corpse. My wife could not walk for nearly a year. Faith in us ran out then. People left, crops withered, taxation bled us dry. Our village stopped being able to sustain itself. This mission of ours is the last chance we have to make things right!”

“Even if you suffered as well...” Falin began, kindness still managing to reach her eyes and voice. “You‘re only right in one thing. This is the last chance you have to make things right.” Falin took the dish used to serve Laios’ dish and gazed on it wistfully. “I told my brother. Pour your love into this dish. All of it. That way, if they reject it, you can finally be free.” she looked up to Ulfric. “Despite our current hardships, despite everything that happened between him and his parents. I could taste Laios’ love in this food. He is reaching out to you. We can’t understand each other if we never talk. I thought you’d understand it by now.”

“I did talk! I offered you asylum. I would help you for as long as I lived! I thought you’d understand that-”

“That’s your problem! How could we understand you?! How could you think we’d know about your suffering, your reasons of being here?!” Laios tried to fight his tears, but they would no longer be withheld. “How could I have known you sent Falin away for her own safety?! How could I have known you trusted me?!”

“What do you mean? You’re my son, of course I-”

“You never told me!” Laios cried out, slamming his fist on the table. “You never praised me. You never told me you were proud of me. You never... I never...” Marcille and Falin both wrapped their arms around them. “I never felt like you accepted me... even now. You can’t accept me...”

“Is that what you think? Is that what you always thought?” Ulfric fell back on his chair, staring blankly into Laios eyes. “I never understood you Laios.” he was being frank, but Laios didn’t need him to tell him that. “I never really understood Falin either. Truth be told, I think the only person I’ve ever understood was myself...” he looked at his wife and then at the people in front of him. “But I never stopped loving you. I never stopped being proud of even the smallest things you did. When you saved Falin from being attacked, when Falin would craft small birds nest for chicks that had fallen from trees. I was proud of you when you stood up to me for Falin, when you left the village to stand for your beliefs.”

“That’s... that’s messed up... how can someone be proud of himself for that?!” Marcille yelled back, but this once, Irina stepped in.

“Ulfric has never felt proud of himself. Not once. That was a sentiment he reserved fo the rest of us.” she said, and this, something about this was the missing piece. Laios’ breath quickened, falling back to his chair as well. The inability to communicate the smallest things. The strange priorities. Not understanding other people. Trying solutions that were certain to fail because of sheer stubbornness. Being unable to take pride in anything he ever did.

“I’m... I’m just like you...” Laios covered his face with his hands and screamed. Once he had finished, a haggard, tired Ulfric sat at the other side of the table, just as destroyed as he seemed to be.

“Of course you are. I’m your father Laios.” he stood back up and turned to leave. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t have been the one you deserved.”

As he started to walk away, Falin cried out for him, but he didn’t answer. Marcille was silent, aghast at the situation. Irina stood back up but couldn’t bring herself to go after him. She stared at Laios and begged:

“My son... Laios. Please...” he understood what she wanted. He understood that he was the only one able to stop this. If he walked out that door... he’d never see him again. But should he? After all he had done? No, that wasn’t it, was it? This hatred in his heart right now, it wasn’t directed at Ulfric’s actions. It was the result of something else. The same thing that even now, he couldn’t bring himself to accept. To accept Ulfric, would be accepting someone like himself. To accept himself.

As his mirror image reached out for the doorknob, Marcille put her hand on his shoulder and whispered.

“Whatever your choice may be, I accept it.”

I accept it.

It echoed in his mind. Words that had been denied of him for so long. Not just by strangers, not just by the man in front of the door. But by himself too. And now, he’d deny it of someone else. If he did so... Then this cycle would continue. Forever.

He refused.

“Father!” he cried out. Ulf- his father turned around to a laboured smile from his son. “There’s still dessert.”

“Son, I don’t think I can ever make it up for you. Just let me-”

“I know!” Laios exclaimed, shaking his head and fighting with all his might to not let him do what he wanted. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive you either. But... I’d like to try.” he extended his hand for his father to take.

This time, it was accepted.

-*-

They hadn’t talked since the handshake, him or his father. Laios still wasn’t sure if he had made the right call. If this man deserved it. Falin and her mother tried to make small talk while Marcille had gone to the kitchen to grab the final dish. When she returned, she was all smiles as she looked at her own dishes, two in each hand and the last one being carried by their fairies.

Once she arrived, she had the biggest spectacle of the three, maybe to lighten the mood, maybe because she was Marcille. Their fairies circled around the table, dropping sugar atop the dessert plates while Marcille caused small whisps of flame to mildly heat the sugar, slightly melting it as they landed on the:

Tounato Full-Course

Dessert

Esperian Style: Choco-Cannoli

It was a plain sight. Looked almost like a small branch covered in sugar. But Marcille had promised them it was super tasty and just made to look plain. Laios took the knife to it and saw why. It was crispy, like a twig, but the inside was filled with cream-like cheese, mascarpone was it? It was a strange name. But not just that, inside it were several chocolate chips, and the centre of it had crunchy feeling ball of chocolate that exploded into vanilla gelato once he bit into it. Either Marcille had been hiding her skills, or she was a genius at this too. The taste single-handedly lifted Laios’ spirits, but, as he turned around to shower his love with compliments, his father asked something.

“So... what monsters were used in making this?” he questioned and Laios lost his breath as the cannoli lodged itself into his throat. Marcille’s face of utter disillusionment mixed with fury was just so funny. Because, in fact...

“I didn’t use any monster in this! This is a recipe from my homeland!” she screeched as Falin broke into laughter.

“I see... so the message is that normal ingredients can also create strange concoctions that you’d associate with monsters...” his father so very honestly concluded, Marcille crying out in despair:

“It was supposed to be a palate cleanseeeeer! How come this is what weirds you out?!” she screeched, and now it was his mother’s turn to laugh. Laios laughed too after he swallowed the rest, but he made sure that, once it all calmed down, he pulled Marcille’s head in, meeting her forehead with his, and informed her that:

“È delizioso, amore mio.” he whispered, two of the first words he learned on her language by himself, and the two words she taught him first. The other three were confused, but he only needed that intense gaze of bliss to fill his cursed stomach. Though Marcille’s ravenous kiss afterwards was not unwelcome either.

-*-

Hours had passed since. Most of it had been spent narrating to the Elder Toudens the specifics of their adventure. They hadn’t quite gotten to the end; it would be extremely hard to explain what happened with the Lion to country bumpkins like them. But it was refreshing for Laios to be the one sharing tales that caused his mother to gasp in horror and for his father to widen his eyes in awe.

What their son had said was still true though. As he stood here in the balcony, taking some fresh air to ward off the buzz, it was still strange how much he could take now before becoming drunk, he wasn’t sure if he had done the right thing. So much had happened because of them. So much suffering, anguish, despair. It felt like they were getting off easy.

No one wins anything from holding grudges though... he told himself. That kind of thought was what had convinced his brain. There was nothing to lose from giving them a second chance, so much to gain. If he rejected them though... maybe then, he’d truly become what his father had been to him. If he ever had any children, would he really be able to stand by them if, like his father, he just let his real problems walk away? With this, him, maybe even his father as well, had taken a step towards a better tomorrow.

That’s what he wanted to believe. At least for now.

“It’s a beautiful sight.” his father said as he joined his son in a nearby chair. This wing of the castle overlooked all of Melini, this trio of chairs, and cat bed, had been used more than a few times by Laios’ closest companions. It didn’t feel as bad as he thought it would to have Ulfric take Falin’s seat. Least for now. “It’s still hard for me to believe that all of this is now my son’s to care for.”

“Honestly, I think it’s hard on everyone. You wouldn’t believe the amount of outrage I get through mail from people that owned land on the island.” Laios replied, rolling his eyes at the pettiness of it. “Still think I don’t have what it takes to handle it?”

“To tell the truth, I can’t imagine what it takes to do so. So, the best I can do is hope you do.” his father replied and Laios smiled. He preferred this straight and honest answer to being coddled. This was an unimaginable challenge for someone like him, he knew. He could only hope for the best. “...is the hunting offer still open, by any chance?” Laios raised his eyebrows and swiped his head towards his father. He seemed truthful. Jovial even.

“I... why not? Probably not in the near future though. Would be dangerous, what with the hit on Marcille and all.” he replied, hoping his father wouldn’t read any negativity into it. Hunting, hopefully monsters, would be one of the few things they could share.

“That’s alright. I don’t have much time here for now. Hopefully I can make time during the summer. It’s where the village is at its most lax... if there even is a village by next year...” he sighed and sipped ale again. Laios shook his head and offered:

“If it goes downhill... we have a lot of space in Melini.”

Ulfric laughed. Again, a jovial, not in the least mocking laugh.

“Ah, I’m finally old enough for my son to be the one to offer me a bed to sleep on. I guess those backpains should have clued me in.” he joked, drinking again alongside Laios. “I know we’re still... well, starting over, so forgive me if this is too much to ask right now but, think I can earn your trust in time for...” he winked towards the dining room, where Falin and Marcille were being regaled by tales of baby Laios. “The wedding?”

“Oh, don’t think she’s infecting me with her magical wiles anymore?” Laios mocked, not expecting the sincere and forlorn gaze at the stars that came from his father as a response.

“I saw how you two looked at each other after the dessert. I’d like to believe that it’s impossible fake the love I saw in those eyes.” now that... stunned Laios. Was this man really Ulfric? Wait, was he this different around people he trusted? Maybe not, but he had been different around his father before today. Maybe it was familial. He had to take note, he wouldn’t want to fall into this trap with his kids eventually. It took minutes before he could muster an answer, but when he did, there really only was one he could give him.

“You’ll have to ask Marcille for the wedding invitation.” he said with a smirk, knowing that if anyone could gatekeep him from bad decisions, it was her.

“Fair enough, wouldn’t want to impose.” he replied with the self-same smirk. “To new beginnings, my rash upstart?” he raised his mug. Laios shook his head before smashing into that mug with his own, ale glistening in the moonlight.

“To new beginnings, you old coot.”

-*-

Chapter 15: Ingredients and Leftovers

Chapter Text

-*-

It was chilly. She should probably say it was cold, freezing even. If not for Laios’ and Falin’s hands warming her own as they returned to that empty theatre. She did not know how she knew it was them, she just knew. There was no host. There was no preamble. There was no freedom. Marcille could not move, she could not close her eyes, she could not look away.

The pretence of courtesy had been shattered, the three could only look on and play their part in this stage play.

The stage’s curtains unfurled into a map of their world. Or at least, it looked like it, but the names of all the regions, of the kingdoms and even the cities that Marcille knew the names off were either wrong or missing. Then the date, year 2300. It was only 514!

“This is the tale of a world, beautiful and vast, housing as many lives as there are stars in the sky.” her disembodied voice declaimed from everywhere and nowhere. “Yet, a wise sage once said that an apple’s sheen may hide the most rotten of cores.” flames started sprouting in the eastern archipelago, doing naught to the fabric besides changing the colours and names of the region. As they faded, singular red droplet of bloodlike substance now tainted that island. “Humans. Or, should I say, their nature.”

More and more fires began to sprout all across the world as the calendar began speeding up. 2300. 2350. 2500. The continent that was once Melini sank, leaving only a tiny island.

“Animals, magical or not, spill blood only for their own survival. Their territories only theirs to facilitate new life. This entire world is built on the simple principle of maintaining and creating life.” another narrator stated. Its voice was familiar, but scarred, echoey, deep and hollow. Marcille’s heart knew she should know it, but she could not accept what it may be. “But as our predecessors have witnessed, humans have long since abandoned that rule, that sacred purity. Even as a wish was made to end it...”

The calendar returned to zero. The grand cataclysm of yore that not even elves had witnessed. There were no names left on the map, just a lawless wasteland. Slowly, as the century passed, small kingdoms became reforming. A lot of the names being similar to the ones Marcille knew now, but different enough that they weren’t the final iteration.

“Not even one generation had fully passed before the same requiem played once more.” her voice announced again as the calendar hit 218 and the flames roared anew. The small elven principate at the top left of the western continent beginning its unstoppable march down the continent. The endless fight for a one true kingdom in the north. The bloody foundation of Kakha Brud. The schisms of the archipelago. Smaller fires beginning where dungeon lords had let their dungeons run out of control. “Even as a ray of hope sprung back from the ocean, it was soon in danger of the fires consuming it.”

The year was 515. Melini had started to burn.

“And so, a decision had to be made.”

They walked on stage. Not Marcille and her family, but eerily close. They met with the obese king of Fardomar. ‘Laios’ looked towards ‘Marcille’ and ‘Falin’. 'Falin' nodded back. ‘Marcille’ stared directly into the audience. 'Laios decapitated' him, his blood fully tainting the Northern continent.

Laios hand squeezed Marcille’s tight. She did her best to console him with her free thumb. It was all the movement afforded to them.

“The dungeon had never seen wars. The dungeon had never once stopped fulfilling its purpose. Even as humans engaged in their squabbles, they only fed into it. They were just a part of the ecosystem as all of the animals and monsters they so feared.” Laios’ image explained directly to them as Marcille and Falin fitted him with a draconic set of armour. “The only difference between the outside world and it was simple. It only had one Lord.”

The curtain closed and reopened. Yaad stood in a war tent, dagger in hand as he approached the covers of the naked bodies of Laios and Marcille. He raised the knife, then the tent was torn open, the draconic visage of Falin tainting Melini with his blood in one swipe. Marcille tried to cry out, but her voice was yet another thing that was denied of her.

“Many betrayed our cause. It was no matter, maybe they would understand as they watched on from the field of reeds.” Falin’s voice, or more specifically, the mixture of it and guttural groans and noises that they somehow understood, echoed with a resolute sorrow.

The stage changed again. The walls of Kakha Brud now cleft in twain as Laios and Falin walked towards the castle, an army of men, beast and manbeasts in tow. Madeline and her husband stood in front of the gates. Marcille stepped forward. Mother and daughter took their stances. A brilliant red flash splattered the rest of the continent red. As it faded, Marcille was left in the garb of her previous self, of the one that brought them here.

“Others surrendered right away. Honestly, it was the first time I was thankful Shuro was as easy to twist as he was.” Marcille’s dark visage guffawed as Shuro dragged his father to the gallows, where Laios put the man, and the eastern resistance, out of its misery. “Finally, though, of course, the last remnants united to stop us.”

All but the northernmost tip of the western continent had been tainted. The curtain rose to a battlefield, faceless extras battling in the background as Marcille, Laios and Falin faced off against the heroic visage of a now much older and grizzled Kabru, a true hero of children’s tales, flanked by Mithrun, his mother Milsiril, the remnants of the Canaries and even the queen of the elves, now barely evading death’s embrace.

“If only all of us had been like this. United. Dying side by side for a common purpose. We’d not have to do what we did.” Falin lamented as she crushed the queen of the elves.

“But even when they united, they did so from fear, from desperation. We did it out of love.” Laios lost the swordfight with Kabru, but his clawed gauntlet soon found its way into his chest. Kabru smiled a ghastly scowl, grappling him even as the life left his eyes. Mithrun teleported behind Laios.

“When they died for each other, it was because they had no choice. When we died for each other, it was willingly.” Marcille melted all three into nothing but bone and ash. “And we were rewarded with the power to return to each other for it.” A simple twirl of Marcille and Falin’s staves and Laios returned to their midst.

The calendar read 555. The world was burning red. It returned to 0 once more. The curtains closed again, opening up one final time into a throne room overlooking an unrecognizable kind of civilization, if one could even call it that.

“It would take many centuries before these memories faded. Before humans understood their place, side by side with monsters, beneath us.” narrated Laios from his draconic throne.

“Eventually though, with the limitless time afforded to us, a world of natural and mutual love arose.” Falin said with sincere but inhuman smile. Even as monsters consumed humans, they prayed to them, to the monsters and to their king. Even as humans quartered a monster, it did not fight back, it was old and weak, such was the way.

“And who else had the world to thank but the Devourers and their Witch?” Marcille moaned as she sprawled across Laios’ lap. “The world was rewarded with order, us with each other. Forevermore. What happier ending could there be?” she removed her shawl to reveal something that Marcille had suspected to be there, in retrospective was probably always there, since the first meeting. A pair of feline ears. But by now, she was barely human, more beast than either of her races.

“To the one of you that will be lost for the sake of our world... we grant you this reprieve. That the people you love will remain forever.” Laios told them, the only one who maintained his human form, more riddles that they would refuse to answer.

“Do not fight it. It has already happened.” Falin followed, no lies in her growls.

“Everything that has ever happened. And everything that will. We can see it. Clear as day.” Marcille declared, with a final clap closing the curtains for the final time.

-*-

It was at moments like this that Laios cursed his lack of formal magical education. As he ran through the hallways of his own castle, he had to rely on the moonlight to guide him. His Light spell was too unstable, he couldn’t move the bulbs yet. But he had to go to them. He had to know. Had they seen it too? Even if while sleeping separately?

He was turning the corner to ascend Marcille’s tower when, from both the north staircase and the easter corridor, he saw glimpses of gold.

By the time he caught himself, he had already pulled Marcille into his arms. The fact they had all met up this late into the night just before sunrise said it all.

She screamed into his chest. He knew she’d feel the guilt the most. His worries came from a much worse place. He didn’t hate what he had seen as much as he knew he should.

But it made Marcille cry so he would reject it with all his being.

Falin joined in in comforting Marcille, looking more haunted than Laios imagined. He was the only one… huh? He reflected what that meant. Why he had been so… alright with this possible outcome. Why the only things that bothered him were the sadness in Falin’s face and how unlike Marcille that thing's smile was.

Eventually, Marcille spoke:

“You shouldn’t have saved me Laios.” He knew she meant it. He also knew she was wrong. If he hadn’t..., why would he have not accepted the lion’s offer? But he couldn’t tell her that, it would just make things worse. What could he then? What words could counteract what they had just seen?

“It doesn’t make sense.” Falin interrupted, her movements her posture, the only one rational in the three. “Why would they show us this? It’d have been much easier to just... let us fall into those roles, wouldn’t it?”

Laios face lit up. This was what he needed. Falin really was a genius!

“Marcille’s told her she was going to die, but she’s still here, right? So, they admitted we can change the future they see.” Suddenly it all was falling into place in his mind. He needed it to; it didn’t matter if it was right or wrong. “They just showed us what they want to happen! It isn’t our first rodeo with this kind of manipulation.”

“You’re right it’s just... a lot freakier when they wear our face. I don’t know how you handled it so well back then.” Marcille admitted, her shivers slowing down, but not stopping. “It makes me feel I could be there.”

“We could be.” Falin stated, Laios glaring at her, not helping! “But worrying about ifs and buts never helped any of us. Less whys and ifs, more ‘how not to’-.”

“We’ve seen what we... they did to start all of this. We have to avoid it.” Laios suggested, mentally noting to not meet with that monarch next year. “More importantly, I’ll work with Yaad and Kabru to find time for Marcille and you to put into research. I’m sure my dad won’t mind my Court Magician missing tomorrow’s meeting!”

“If anything, he’ll probably be glad. Mar really does know how to twist his neck!” Falin replied with a smile and a chuckle. They weren’t real, not fully, she was as worried as he was. But right now, Marcille needed her suns to be bright. She would’ve done the same for them if she could.

“You really think I can solve this...?” Marcille mumbled, meeting his eyes pleadingly.

“I’ve asked the impossible of you a couple times already, and you didn’t disappoint!” he leaned in and kissed her forehead, caressing her ear with his thumb. “You’re the most brilliant sorceress of our age, aren’t you?” she slowly nodded. “Now, how about you, well, we, get some rest? It’s still a while ‘till sunset.”

He tried to pull away, but she grabbed, no, grappled his sleeping shirt. Falin smirked, like she knew something he didn’t.

“Stay.” she begged. Laios instinctively answered:

“Of course.” already walking her to her room. Falin just stared with a grin as they ascended the stairs, waving a teasing goodnight.

Her bed was small, clumped. It would force her to burry herself into him. That’s what he told himself when he climbed into it. That’s what made Marcille clinging to him, head squarely sinking into his chest, fingers sliding in-between his, arms gripping his own, like he was the one anchoring her to this world, bearable. Otherwise, he would just explode. And he did not know what that would have entailed yet.

He just knew that he had to bring back this person’s smile. That would be enough, for now.

-*-

Fionil’s usually neurotic gaze, one that Marcille could identify with, had been replaced with an equally familiar, but far less pleasant look of sheer terror.

The half-elf had been in the middle of sharing a meal with her human lover in the room that they had been imprisoned on, but Marcille’s appearance had triggered opposite reactions of the fight and flight spectrum on them. Doni didn’t attack her, but it was not because he did not view her as a threat, it was because he was fully aware that, unarmed as he was, the only thing he could do was stand in-between both half-elves.

Something had to give. And it would be foolish of her to ask it of them.

“Tsumi, take my staff and leave us alone. Fionil needs to be alone for this, don’t you?” she asked, as gently as her smile could make it.

“Your staff?! But you suck at magic without it!” Izutsumi protested, suddenly understanding. Marcille didn’t appreciate the comment that much, but she would let it slide. It furthered her agenda for now.

“I don’t need magic to talk to a friend.” she stated, staring resolutely into Doni’s face. He clearly didn’t trust her; she did not blame him. But he did trust someone.

“Doni, they’ve been good to us. Least I can do is answer their questions.” Fionil begged, but Marcille saw something new in Doni’s gaze. Hesitation. A very similar look she had received from Laios.

“If that’s what you really want.”

Doni answered, leaving with Tsumi without looking back. Marcille was having the worst case of Deja Vu. It made being left alone with the half-elf even more awkward than she had imagined it.

“So, they treated you well?” Marcille questioned, taking a seat across the room to give Fionil space. “As well as a prisoner can be I mean...”

“Well... we felt more like guests to be honest. The older eleven lady would let anyone visit as long as she was present, and Senshi kept us more than well fed.” Fionil replied, noticeably more at ease with Doni out of the room. Marcille’s hunch was probably correct then.

“I’m glad. Melini has a lot to repay of you after what I did.” Marcille was as honest as could be, something that seemed to weird Fionil out.

“Lady Marcille, I don’t think you understand what I-”

“You worked with the assassins; I know. Probably helped them capture Falin by setting up a meeting that turned out to be a trap, though I doubt you physically did the job.” Marcille explained, making sure to be as gentle as possible, which only further bewildered the other girl. “Likely, behind Doni’s back.”

“That’s entirely correct! Doni has nothing to do with this! I’ll gladly give my lif-”

“Don’t!” slipped out of Marcille, her self-loathing bleeding out as this girl showed more and more signs of following her path. “Don’t make that choice for him.” Fionil broken away eye contact and Marcille sighed. “I wonder if it’s a half-elf thing. Keeping secrets from the people we love.”

“We are nothing more than cursed spawns of our parents’ sin, after all.” Fionil said with a tone the court magician never imagined coming from someone like her. Bitter sarcasm. “I’ve never been good at being honest. Growing up in the west as a half-breed makes that a quality. Not that it helped once the Canaries found out...”

“Pattadol mentioned documentation of a Half-Elf spy that they had on the island that broke off years ago. Is that you, ‘White Dove’?” Fionil’s eyes suddenly turned cold, meeting Marcille with newfound determination.

“Those days are behind me.” she resolutely stated. “If you are asking me to return to them to pay my debt, then-”

“You owe us no debt.” Marcille revealed, gesturing towards the door. “Once you step through that door, you will be free, exonerated of any perceived crimes. Of course, that goes for Doni too.” confusion was reestablished on the other girl’s expression.

“Why?! I... don’t know exactly what happened afterwards, but at the very least King Touden nearly lost his life! The older elf refused to tell us about your or Falin’s health for a whole week! I’m not stupid Lady Donato! I know the consequences of my actions! Any other country would have put me to the sword!”

“Luckily for you, Melini’s first official act was pardoning someone whose crimes far outweigh yours. I think that should clue you in about our stance in this kind of situations.” Marcille rolled her eyes when Fionil just tilted her head. “Motives Fionil. That’s what matters to us. The way you act speaks far louder than your actions. You were forced into this situation; it would be terrible of us to punish you for it.”

“You’re wrong...” Fionil mumbled, covering her eyes with her right hand. “Not this time. I chose this...”

Marcille did not expect this development, she thought Fionil had just been blackmailed, but even then she knew there was more to this.

“I won’t ask you about your time as White Dove. But, for the sake of those I hold dear... I can’t let you leave until you tell me what lead up to that day two weeks ago.” Marcille told the, surprisingly accepting, half-breed. If anything, Fionil seemed beyond relieved that that had been the only thing asked of her.

“It came to me in my dreams...”

Time slowed for the court magician. Marcille’s jaw dropped. She was glad that Fionil hadn’t met her eyes and just kept going.

“I can’t remember who, or what. Even how. The only memories I had once I woke up were my mission and what my reward would be.” She let go a bitter laugh and shook her head. “I know this sounds insane. Maybe I should be locked up in an asylum after all...”

“No. This is... not the first time we’ve had reports like that.” Marcille did not lie, but she did not tell the whole truth either. Especially when she was unaware of what that even was.

“I can’t decide if that’s relieving or terrifying.” Fionil scratched her shoulder nervously before continuing. “I was given a time and a place to be, the people to assist. I thought it was just a dumb dream, but the reward would be too great. I had to try. And sure enough... there they were. It was only then that I learned what the mission entailed.” she bowed to Marcille. “I’m so sorry! They knew my face! If I said no, if I didn’t cooperate, they’d... they’d...”

So Marcille hadn’t been fully incorrect, there had been blackmail involved. She was glad. While she had planned to exonerate Fionil of her crimes, she could never have looked her the same way if she had, knowingly, decided to take a life. That was a line she could not bear to cross, even the thought of herself doing so would make her wretch.

“It was an impossible choice. I know.” the nightmare vividly haunted her mind when she answered. What would she have done in Fionil’s place? How right were they about her? “The reward you were promised. What was it?”

“A future where me and Doni would live free from my past.” she replied, Marcille’s eyes dilating with every word. “I could see it. Clear as day.”

The memories of a familiar laughter haunted Marcille yet again.

-*-

“I can’t believe you just let them go.” Izutsumi told her ward as Fionil and Doni vanished behind the castle’s doors. Marcille was barely there still, waving at a now closed door. “Melini to Marcille, do you read me?”

“W-What was it Tsumi?” Marcille gasped, regaining awareness only when a claw poked her cheeks.

“You just let the girl that sold you out go! What’s your game here?” Izutsumi grumbled, shaking her to fully snap her out of the daze she was on. Once she regained her bearings, Marcille excused herself the best she could.

“I did warn her she wasn’t allowed to leave the capital for now, and that I wanted her to keep in touch daily until we figured things out but...” Marcille’s mind trailed again. She was wasting time even explaining this.

It wasn’t that she did not have more questions for Fionil. It wasn’t that she didn’t question her own decision. But after those words came out of Fionil’s mouth, she knew it couldn’t be postponed any longer.

“You were right Tsumi, they really are going for us when we’re dreaming.” she replied, catty pride overriding any worries Izutsumi may have had cause she looked oh-so-proud. “We need to get to the bottom of this yesterday. Let’s get moving.”

“Where to next?” her guardian asked.

“To Thistle’s-” she was suddenly reminded of the other person she had neglected due to her time in a coma. He had been able to talk last time they did so. It was, frankly, probably as much of a waste as explaining had been, but still, she amended. “To Thistle.”

-*-

Yaad had kept up her mission. It didn’t surprise her to find Thistle’s daily report parchment filled in by his handwriting over her’s, not had it surprised her to see that her talk with Thistle nearly one month ago had been a one-time occurrence. Mithrun had taken years, maybe decades, he had been vague, to kinda-sorta recover, of course this guy, who had been under the lion’s spell for over a hundred times as long, wouldn’t recover this fast. If at all.

She gazed upon the child-like elf in his rocking chair, unkempt long silver hair glimmering in the morning sun as it waved with the motion of the rocking chair.

Wait, the chair was rocking? It hadn’t been when she arrived. She had had to be the one to rock it when treating him.

“Thistle... you there?” she called, Shuro’s former retainer instinctively tensing while she approached him.

“That guy’s giving me chills Marcille, be careful.” Izutsumi cautioned, not once taking her eyes of the invalid in front of her. Marcille couldn’t understand how she could think that, this man was barely a person anymore. Honestly, the fact that he was able to give any sort of tug to her friend’s instincts was more of a reason to try.

When she finished walking towards him, so did the chair stop rocking. Marcille now knew he was there.

“Thistle, I need your help, please, I need to know if you’re here!” she let her fear and despair suddenly pour out, hoping to be understood by the man she had taken the mantle off.

Violet met emerald. Chocolate hands grasped a pale wrist. She heard Izutsumi calling out her name, her voice ever more distant. Something grasped her shoulder.

Then she fell.

-*-

The silent rustling of grass caressing the girl’s cheeks returned her to consciousness. Or at least... something like it. Though a cursory look around herself told her that she was lying in a grassy hill, what she felt was more akin to floating at the surface of a quiet lake. Even as she stood up, it was like she was treading water.

She felt lighter. Too light. Touching the side of her head, she became aware of the void that had taken the place where there were once her ears. Not just her regular ones, but even her intrusive ones. Yet, she could still hear perfectly well. Her, now loose, hair was also full of holes, ones that didn’t seem to cause the bottom end of those strands to detach and fall to the ground. It wasn’t just that though, her temple was missing a small bit, the exact place where that lion had planted a kiss on her without her consent, the shoulders he had held while protecting her also missing bits of flesh. The hips he had wrapped himself around while he paraded her like a trophy also ripped into. None of the holes was geometrical, all of her missing bits were shaped in the same way. Bite wounds.

Yet, she felt naught of it. Only a warm summer’s breeze and the whistling of robins. It did not even matter that there was when her fingers reached for her eye sockets, they were only that, sockets. She could see all the same, just not feel.

The serenity of it all was broken when something tore into her leg. Marcille jumped away, attempting to summon her magic until she saw what had done it. A black cat with a white-tipped ear. One wearing a very fashionable red bowscarf. It did not take a genius to guess who that was. Nor why Izutsumi looked so angered by the current situation. She meowed what Marcille was sure to be the worst obscenities she had heard in her time as a slave, but thankfully the half-elf did not speak cat... yet.

“I know, I know Tsumi. I walked right into that.” she admitted, feeling a little bit guilty, but not as much as she was sure her friend would want. “But if he wanted to do us harm, we’d not be in a place like this, would we?”

The black cat charged at her again and Marcille took the acrobatic kick to the face with as much grace as she could. She deserved it. At least Tsumi seemed to have gotten it out of her system afterwards. She noticed that Izutsumi, obvious differences aside, did not seem to have been bitten into.

Fears behind her and guardian now resting on what was left of her left shoulder, Marcille now turned to explore the field of emerald. It all felt very familiar, like her village looked the couple times she visited after leaving for the academy. Equal to a sight she had seen, but just different enough that, despite not being able to spot the differences, something felt off. It wasn’t until she reached the top of the hill that she realized why.

In the distance was the equally paradoxical existence of a familiar yet unfamiliar Melini. It was smaller, yet more bustling, it’s castle brighter, yet more simplistic. It did not even have walls, yet it felt more secure than ever. And, overlooking it all, at the top of the hillside that overlooked the Royal Mausoleum, was a field of violet flowers... thistles.

At its centre, the flower that changed the world, for better or worse. Or more appropriately, the leftovers of said flower.

He had nothing below his hips, like a hungry maw clenched itself around his bottom half and ripped it off. His left arm, the arm he used to carry the book, was completely gone, along with most of the left side of his torso. His right hand still clenched around something. His eyes, which had given him his name, had been clawed off. Even the parts of his body that were still there were bitten into, ripped out, on several point.

He truly was, more than maybe anyone living, just the table scraps of a vengeful god.

And yet, both former lords could see and be seen at that moment. When his tongue-less mouth opened, it wasn’t the undecipherable gargles of a cripple, but the voice of a tired young man.

Do not fear. I am here. he replied. Marcille stumbled next to him and by the leftovers of Thistle.

“I made quite the mess.” Marcille said, strangely feeling akin to reconnecting to an old classmate. Thistle’s voice grumbled.

It comes with the territory. He bitterly replied. Izutsumi started exploring his holes curiously, probably aware that she couldn’t contribute much in her current state. Most of it you inherited from me.

“I’m not going to say that is not true, but we’re past tossing blame... how can you do all of this?” Marcille questioned, remembering how... non-existent his mana had been the second time she examined him. She expected some recovery but this was a bit much.

The dungeon helped. But mostly it’s because... Salenia, Thomas and Fordring all left for the beyond. He explained, Marcille turned to eye him with realization and dread. They asked me to.

“You’re the one keeping the... that makes too much sense.” she whispered to herself. “Do they know? Does Yaad know?”

Not until the will for life leaves them. Then, and only then, are they given the choice. And were they to decide to stay, then they too would forget. Thistle’s melancholy was palpable. To be able to talk with the people he cared so dearly for, but only to grant them release. What a terrible burden he had no doubt placed on himself. That is not why you’re here though. Much like my capacity to maintain their life is not without limit, keeping you inside my mind is quite tiring. Tell me what you need to know.

Marcille nodded, already feeling her consciousness starting to wane.

“Now that I am here. I need to know. How similar am I? To it?” she questioned, purposefully letting her mana flow out. Thistle seemed to understand the meaning behind the question.

The lion is dead. I know not if Laios could have ever hoped to eat the original demon, but it’s manifestation in Melini is well and truly gone. he began, quashing the biggest, yet at the same time, least likely of fears Marcille had. However, I can’t deny that there is something so very familiar about you. About the tall-men siblings. About this dungeon or yours.

And there it was. The confirmation she feared. It was quite obvious by now. The powers to create dungeons and defy the rules of the world. To see into the future, if her other self was a reliable narrator. For this to have happened to the two last Dungeon Lords and someone who was made to work under them... it could be no mere coincidence.

Don’t make that face. You, the person who pushed it back as he whispered directly into your ear. You who chose the hell of reality over the paradise of dreams. Thistle’s remaining hand reached out to hers, and she let him take it with a gentleness that she’d think was saved only for Delgal’s line. Did you stay away from the painting?

“Well... barely, but yes! It tried to pull me in. But that’s why I came here, I wanted to ask why you wanted me to stay away.” Marcille questioned, her nervousness not going unnoticed. If Thistle had eyes to roll, they would be doing so right now.

I was afraid you were like myself. He answered, clutching her hand tight with a smile. I should have known better times would make for better people.

“What are you...”

Wait and Hope. Those words will cause any of my paintings to expel you. Go on, look for your own answers. He let go of her hand and seemed to gaze onto the Melini that was. I would like to believe you’ll make of me the stepping stone for your successes.

“You...” at that moment, Marcille decided. She would save this man. No. This child. “What’s your favourite dish?”

W-What?!

Izutsumi slapped her in the back of the head.

“Humour me, I’d like to try something.” she replied with a smile, even as she felt her body start to drift away.

I cannot remember... yet another thing stolen from me by that devil. Though, I do know that it was something Delgal and I shared only on our best and worst days... definitely Not elf cake though!

Marcille chuckled and nodded, patting him on the head as she stood back up.

“Anything you want me to tell Yaad?” she asked, a pensive look coming into the former court jester as she and Izutsumi sank into the thistles.

Tell him to season the damn porridge. I didn’t lose my taste glands!

Marcille would regain consciousness to a smirking bard and a chair rocking once more.

-*-

“We really just gonna jump in?” Izutsumi groaned as the two stared down at a painting trying it’s absolute darndest to reach them with its shadowy hands, but they were just barely out of reach.

“Told Mamma to come for us if we aren’t back by lunch. That gives us... a couple hours. Hopefully the inside of the painting isn’t too vast.” Marcille pondered, trying to think of the exact mechanics of a living painting. She was never too interested in them, the ethics of the beings inside them and if they were considered living or not made her squeamish, and Laios hadn’t been much help. She would just have to wing it.

“What are we looking for even?” Izutsumi asked, and Marcille could only answer with a shrug. “Really?!”

“You heard the kid, he’s as Melinian as they get. They can never be clear about what they mean. Whatever answers entails, they’ll probably happen around him, he does keep this painting in his lair after all.” she mumbled, poking one of the hands with her finger. They were kinda-sorta-physical. Fascinating.

“Stick to the shorty, got it.” Izutsumi assumed, but no.

“B-Banzai...” Marcille repeated meekly, taking a single step forward and immediately being whisked away into a swirl of shadows and paint.

-*-

The Court Magician was not known for graceful entrances... yet. Something she had to work on. This was no different. She had completely lost any sense of balance and direction when being pulled into the painting, falling completely flat on the ground with her entire body, face first. Ambrosia hit the back of her head, flipping in midair from the impact and still being able to spank her bottom on the way down. These falls were getting worse with time, not better.

But so was her recovery time. The girl who had once languished in the pain now was back on her feet in seconds... but found out she didn’t need to. No, Laios was not kidding with the paintings dropping you at seemingly random placements, not even directly in what was depicted. She was at no funeral service, she instead was lost in a pitch black... tunnel possibly. As she summoned light spheres to see, most of the scenery around her was lacking in detail, more like sketches of a ruin than any realistic scenario.

“Tsumi?!” She called out, echoes answering the question that came with the call. We must have fallen on different places of the painting. And I… I must be on the painting’s borders. she assumed, taking a better look around to see if anything seemed more detailed than normal. It would be her hint on where to look.

The first obvious one, was the staircase leading up with a light at the end. She could hear faint sounds echoing from it as well. On the opposite direction however, following a single, human-sized road that kept all its detail despite the rest of the environment fraying into colourless outlines, leading to an overly detailed object at the end. She knew that the inside of the paintings were lifelike, but something about that stone statue at the end of the road seemed... beyond lifelike. Even from where she was, where she couldn’t even tell what the statue was of, she felt like it didn’t belong her, like it could even belong... outside.

“You there! Identify yourself!” Marcille turned around, she had been so transfixed on that object that she hadn’t even realized that the faint sounds on the staircase were footsteps. She recognized the voice though, and when she turned around, she ironically, saw someone she had met with not even an hour past.

“Thistle...” she called, uncertain what to even say. The young elf’s visage didn’t seem to take his name kindly.

“You know my name?” he took a better look at her. “A mule from the west? What do you want from us?! Did you come for the dungeon?!” Marcille’s eye twitched as the jester, still in mourning clothes, pulled out a wand.

“Will you stop calling me a mule?!” she screamed, kicking Ambrosia from the ground and twirling it into her hand. Neither mage hesitated.

“Freiss!”

“Alsam!”

Both casters summoned their preferred elements, a spear of ice melting under Marcille’s roaring blaze. Not only had it consumed Thistle’s spell, but it had thrown the poor lad against the wall, immediately knocking him out.

“Wait... really? That’s it? No devouring drakes? No outrageous summons?” Marcille was almost deflated. She kind of wanted to use this fake version of Thistle as a scapegoat for her problems with the real one, but she felt like she had just bullied a little kid.

“What did you expect? The poor boy’s only sixty.” he told her, his hand gently caressing her shoulder.

Wait... he?!

Marcille instinctually turned around and fired the greatest blast she could muster without an incantation. The very fabric of the painted world caught fire and was torn asunder, but then... the fire froze. Everything around her froze. Thistle’s breathing. The dust she kicked up. The debris sent flying from the explosion. Only she remained. She and the living shadow emerging through the frozen flames, parting them like one would rip through parchment.

Five gentle eyes. One kind smile. Four welcoming arms. Two pairs of wings that had once safeguarded her. All called out to her in the most dulcet of tones.

It has been too long… Marcille!

For she had come to a world where Demons still roamed.

-*-

Chapter 16: Lion’s Head

Chapter Text

-*-

Inhale. Exhale. Clear your mind. Become something more. Something it cannot reach. You are the mountains that the gryphon soars over. The shadows wherein the cat stalks. The wind that rustles the reeds.

The mage was now aware of the demon in front of them. Fear. Despair. Regret. Shame. Desire. All clawed at her conscious self, but she could not become a slave to them. To him. She gripped Ambrosia and stabbed it into the dungeon’s floor. It began to take root.

“Mortrum.”

This was a dungeon. Thistle’s dungeon. Their Dungeon. She had reigned over this in a time not long past. Though she had abandoned the right, though she did not seek to reclaim it, she was a Dungeon Lord, and this had once been her Dungeon.

“Traum.”

It had stopped time for all but her, but she still felt the mana seep through her, around her. This spell, it must have specifically targeted her mana signature as one to exclude. Explosion magic was but the spark that created the flames, the flames themselves were not magical. If she were to fight it, she’d need something else. And she could see it. Clear as day.

“Regendum.”

A king and a court magician whiled the night away theorizing this creature’s inner workings. Any mistakes those two had made, the beating heart behind this spell would be sure to wish away.

She imagined it’s coils, twisting around her body. It’s feathers, defying nature and the earth it’s body was born for. The internal structures the king had prattled on about. The magical knowledge that it would have to imbue itself according to the Court Magician.

“Fablum.”

The mage’s teeth gnawed at each other, and she began to taste liquid iron. The eyes twitched vision blurred and a liquid streamed from her eyes. The body she used felt made of charcoal and cinder in a burning fireplace. Maybe such was the price for an affront to nature as severe as casting Dungeon Lord magic without owning the dungeon it is casted on.

It was too late to hesitate. She could only breathe wretched life into the abomination she had created.

“Quetzcoatl!”

A scream of searing pain accompanied the cry of a newborn creature of myth. The mage... Marcille, fell to her knees, gasping for air. Her tongue was shredded by something, but she would need to wait a moment to heal it. She passed her hand over her wet cheeks and saw only blood. Strangely though, she saw a lot better than she should here, where light scarcely dared to reach.

It was no matter, what was important were the other two creatures in the room. The Apex Predator that stood above all creatures stared back at her with sickly joy and admiration, even clapping with all four of its paws.

My, my. This is beyond impressive little Marcille. Breathing entirely new life without my touch? Frankly I’m feeling inadequate! As always, it felt so sincere, so caring, so proud. The Demon that had taken the shape of this country’s protector. The Devil in humanity’s shoulder. The Winged Lion.

But it was no liar, no, it would be far less dangerous if he were. So, she must have succeeded. A reassuring twitch around her torso proved that theory.

The Coatl had taken shape around her body and hissed at the lion in defiance. It was a far cry from the size it had when it was summoned during her sting as Dungeon Lord, the mana requirement would kill her to even channel, if she even had access to it, but beyond being only barely twice as long as she was tall, it was the exact same cute winged snake.

It was not a familiar, they did not share vision, but it was not fully... not her. If she focused, she perceived what it perceived, and she could very much feel him both physically and mentally. The important part was that it shared her mana, and as such, could still move.

Still, she wasn’t confident enough to attack a being akin to a god. This was just her best, maybe last, attempt at defiance. After all, even if Thistle’s words could possibly take her out of the painting, she would not even try. She wouldn’t leave Izutsumi behind.

Since you seem done flaunting your feathers, shall we catch up? It offered. All of Marcille’s restraint vanished.

“Ketz, kill!” she ordered, her companion unfurling around her and taking flight. In moments it was upon the lion, baring teeth at it. The lion fell back into the same rip in the canvas it had created, vanishing from sight as it closed just as quickly.

Marcille was no fool though, the moment he heard the sound of claw on cloth behind her, she turned around and summoned ice to tip the bottom of Ambrosia. She couldn’t cast long distance magic, but she still could stab that monster. Her improvised spear found one of its eyes as he emerged from the tear.

It whistled.

Someone’s been practicing I see. Well, I already knew that, but still, quite the show!

“Get. Out. Of. My. Head!” Marcille screeched, detonating Asland inside the lion’s head. The lion’s body spluttered into blood and viscera, the liquid and meat immediately freezing in time yet again. The sound of the explosion must have masked another tear opening, because, if not for Ketz biting a clawed hand off inches away from her, it would have found her body.

I’m not in your head anymore. Seems like someone is projecting her problems onto a convenient scapegoat. And that’s not even my aspect! it taunted, slinking away back into the space in-between.

This was a losing battle. How could Marcille hurt something like this? Something that needed no body, that obeyed no rules?

Laios... Laios did it. I’ll find a way! she reassured herself, regaining her stance whilst her guardian coiled around her body again. Another tear opened up, this one far away, only the lion’s head poking out.

I’m only here to talk my lost child. You are quite the sore winner! the more he talked, the more he seemed to be completely aware of what had transpired outside the painting. Marcille wanted to force him to answer why, but...

“Talking is how you win! No, the first person to see you should have just... No...”

The tear in the fabric of the painting opened more and more, revealing where the Lion truly was. At the dining table. And what was beside him? A black cat, looking over Delgal’s shoulder.

Is this enough motivation for you to act civilized? the sultry tone of the lion mummed as he caressed Izutsumi’s hair. Marcille dropped Ambrosia.

“Don’t... she doesn’t have anything to do with this!” Marcille screamed, her knees buckling under the weight of all the mana she had expend. “Don’t hurt my little Tsumi...”

As you desire. he replied, walking away from Izutsumi and inviting Marcille with his arms to stand next to her. A gesture of good will. To show I mean no harm.

His former minion knew better than to trust the demon, but she also knew better than not to take this chance.

“Ketz, coil around Tsumi. Protect her at all costs.” she ordered the serpent. It looked at her with it’s dorky eyes, trying to look defiant, but it was still subservient to her orders. So, it left, coiling around the catgirl while the lion stepped through the fabric to rejoin her at the past dungeon of Melini. “What did you want from me?” she growled as the Winged Lion closed the tapestry behind him.

Nothing. Strange, isn’t it? Every other time someone walked into this painting, I found myself desiring just as well as my real counterpart. Marcille froze at the honesty, the forlornness of that answer. This thing... it wasn’t the Winged Lion. No, this was just part of the painting?! But a lot seems to have happened since Thistle last stepped foot here.

“How do you know that...?” Marcille asked, trying her best not to be swept by the current that was this thing’s very presence.

Oh, I just know what you know. I touched you, didn’t I? He replied as if that was the most normal thing in the world. Oh, you hadn’t put it together yet? Shame. I can only see what you’ve seen in the past, your kind’s limited rationale still eludes me...

Marcille knew then that if this thing touched her again, she would be nothing but it’s sock puppet. She regained her fighting stance, but played along:

“So, you know that one wrong move and you’re going to be nothing but a snack for my other-half!” she taunted, earning herself a smile from the thing, one that betrayed not even the slightest hint of resentment.

I wouldn’t be so sure. Frankly speaking, the fact that he’s even retained some powers, quickly as vanished, is a surprise. I doubt he could just slurp me up again even if I did want to play bad kitty. he seemed so jovial, so free of malice. Cute, despite all it had done. Such a terrifying entity.

“So, what’s your plan? If you could leave, I’m sure you’d have done so many times over. You really think I’m going to try and help you escape?!” she pointed the staff in it’s direction, more of a declaration of hostility than anything else.

You overestimate me Marcille. I lost. Utterly and completely. And I told you before, I bear no grudges. It disgusted her how he managed to sound so honest in such a blatantly lie.

“You call cursing my beloved to never be satisfied with what he loves most bearing no grudges?! Then let Laios meet monsters again! Let Laios feel full again! Go on! I’m waiting!”

If I could, I would. he stated with not a hint of derision. In fact, there was something far scarier in his tone. Regret. Genuine. Regret. Was it so adept with words that she dancing in the palm of its hand? If not... no, that must be it. What other reason could it say such a thing. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I can’t understand why I’d do it... he mumbled, pacing around Marcille, who looked more and more confused. Maybe taking a human form was a mistake. All the actions you remember afterwards are so... childish. Irrational. Emotional. Ah, I see now. So that was Laios’ game from the start.

His laughter was raucous, like that of a father who had been outsmarted by his son.

Good show boy. Good show. it told no one in particular before turning to Marcille. Will you tell him that I regret how we parted? It really was his fault for letting me turn human, but leave out that I said that, okay? I want-

“Shut up!” Marcille roared back, sending out a fireball in its direction to catch its attention. “We’re not dolls for you to play with! If you can’t even want, why are you here?!”

At first, confusion. Afterall, unlike every other time I regained sentience, I felt quite a lot emptier. Then I touched you and well, consider myself infected. it told her, Marcille’s mind racing at the implications. Come now, a little bit of desire never hurt anyone. I only took a little nibble. As a gesture of good will! It’ll grow back in no time! Just how much transpired from a single touch?

“You expect me to believe a single nibble is enough to restore something that, from what I recall, took you eons to develop?” Marcille questioned, almost begged inwardly. She could not bear to have ruined Laios’ sacrifice in a moment of weakness.

Of course not. It’ll last me minutes, an hour at best. But I’ll be gone by then, so what does it matter, really? It mused, strangely accepting of the implications.

“You really are nothing more than paint and canvas, aren’t you?” Marcille replied with awe. Laios had told her that the people in the painting acted much like their real selves, but this was too much. From what she had studied, it didn’t add up. “You’re not supposed to retain memories from previous entries if you are. What gives?”

Think of it this way. A painting exists in two dimensions, height and width, right? You yourself exists in those two with the added depth. The real me exists beyond three dimensions, so I’m guessing that this makes me somewhere between a fake and the genuine article. It seemed to have answered this question beforehand. Thistle must have forced it out of him.

“But you cannot leave.” she stated.

Is that your hope, or-

“Would we still be having this conversation if you could? You know the password.” the lion laughed, falling back onto his hips into a sitting position. It wiped tears of all it’s five eyes.

I wish we had been partners for longer. Your mind is delicious to behold. You are right though. Last time I tried to do so, I existed for a grand total of two hours outside before returning into this hell. And let me tell you, slowly fading into dust wasn’t pleasant! it stated with glee, like her words were in of themselves nourishment for the beast.

“That couldn’t be less mutual.” Marcille growled, leaning back against the wall opposite of it, staff still trained in its direction. “So, what’s your game? Going to keep me here until Laios comes?”

That yearning you two share for each other does sound like quite a scrumptious dish, but my interest lies in something far more curious than a snack. It is the matter of those visions of yours. Well, there went Marcille’s growing theory. By your face you hoped to put my face as the one to blame for them. I am sorry to disappoint, but a dead lion writes no scripts. However, I am quite interested in where this piece may be going.

“What makes a dead lion interested in a world it will never step foot on again?” she was getting somewhere with it. She knew it. That demon knew more than he was letting on.

Is rooting for your successor’s successes not something you do? It asked as innocently as a babe would of its mother.

Marcille’s heart stopped. She tried to mumble and repeat what he had just said, but nothing about it was acceptable. But why would it lie? What web could it be spinning?

Don’t tell me you never considered it; I know that to be a lie. This gift of yours, what is it, if not the connection to my own body? It seemed disappointed in her. It. Of all things. Dared to mock her?!

“We’re past the point where your lies will get you anywhere Demon! Laios ate you right in front of my eyes! You’re just a bad memory preserved by Thistle’s trauma!” she yelled, more to convince herself than it.

I am. If Laios did consume me wholly, then I am not. But I will be. it stated with absolute certainty. Like one would tell their children that the sun would rise in the morning. The fact that you are a Dungeon Lord is proof enough that I will not be gone for long, if I am at all.

“S-Shut up. Dungeons are natural occurrences!”

Why yes, but what do you think a Dungeon Lord is? Do you believe it to be natural to rule over every aspect of an environment? To become one with it? Was the impossibility of such not what stumped your research on creating a safe dungeon? it knew too much. She was but a window it peered through effortlessly. She tried to back away, but she had already backed herself into a corner. Nothing new to this idiot magician. Look at your body. Every time you summoned magic beyond human capability, it changed, didn’t it? You created a dungeon, and it changed all of you. You breathed new life, and it changed you once more.

Marcille didn’t know what it meant until she remembered her other self’s changes. Licking her teeth, her tongue cut itself on the fangs they had become. It had not lied. It never lied.

Really, the only thing that escapes me is why Laios is so... unchanged. Really, a slightly altered eye? He was me. The slightest contact with my body should have done the job... it wondered, somehow making the situation worse. Marcille could accept her mistakes leading her down this path. But Laios? No. Never Laios. She would go down with this ship! None of them!

“Is that why... is that what they meant by one of us being lost?” Marcille gasped, trying to see which of the people on stage had been the most different.

That is what I believe as well. The last two people to make a pact with me, and someone who’s soul was fused to one made with my power. I’d hedge my bets on you or Laios, but Falin is hardly out of the woods. he recounted. Though I can say this with absolute certainty. If you truly are succeeding me, the real me, your so-called Demon and not this Lion’ skin... there can only be one. The other two would indeed be safe. Always so helpful. But... why?

“Why are you telling me all of this? You’re... you’re helping me. The longer I took to understand this the less time we’d have to try and fight back!” she exclaimed, though still deeply lost as to how they’d even start.

The lion’s gaze turned as black as the deepest pits of the ocean on a moonless night. For the first time since its defeat, for the first time in a non-human body, it’s fury shone through.

It disgusts me is why! it replied, growling at the thoughts he must be having. That the people who rid me of the curse of my desire. The people who I was utterly beaten by, are denied their reward by the pettiness of my human shell and my nature.

“Really? Sentimentality? From you?” Marcille couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “You’re just a con-man. You never cared about any of u-”

WATCH YOUR MOUTH! in the time that it toom Marcille to recoil and blink at the roar that tore through the space around her, it had closed the gap between both, mere inches between his gnawing maw and her trembling lips. I gave you creatures EVERYTHING you ever asked of me. Images of it protecting Marcille and her friends flashed in its eyes.

Every desire, fulfilled. It was not until every wish in your pathetic little conscience had been completely and utterly satisfied that I took what you owed me! Mithrun’s satisfied expression came to the beast’s vision before the goat appeared.

And even then, never did I consider leaving you behind! Even in my hour of victory, I would grant all of you... creature’s deepest desires for all eternity. Infinite bliss, for all of us. And a perfect world for the ones who led me there! She saw her parents, happily cheering on her marriage to Laios. A Falin completely rid of the monster’s curse. A girl with a familiar cat-like expression in the sidelines with all the people she loved. But it was not real. It could never be real. That was the one lie it always told. One that they all willingly accepted.

“What you describe as bliss is a fate worse than death! Food is to sustain life, not obsession!” Marcille yelled back, only not headbutting the devil out of self-preservation.“ And that perfect world of yours, we took it away from you! Yet you’re here trying to imply that you’re helping me out of the kindness of your non-existent heart?!”

You know what you humans say, what you think you want and what you need are rarely the same? It asked in a strange vulnerable tone, tearing himself away from Marcille and clutching at its stomach. I never really understood it. How could one’s desires diverge from their needs? But, those moments before I touched you, it was the first time since I was accidentally wrought onto this world by the magic of this painting that I felt... free. This thing. This hunger I feel again. It’s a curse. A drug. I think... I think the real me was content. To be devoured.

“What makes you say that? Human nature or not, it was quite spiteful.” Marcille stood back up and for the first time, seemed to be standing face to face with the demon. His face was so... forlorn. In a way a lion could never be.

There’s no way you could have noticed. But those whisps of mana that you saw floating away into the sky. They looked so satisfied... and that was definitely jealousy. Or at least, the closest thing a being like this could manifest. Time around both of them wound back up, explosions detonating in now emptied ruins. It turned around, eyeing the statue it had been sealed in for eons, and with a sigh, started walking back to its prison.

“So that’s it, you’re just letting me go?” She questioned the actor exiting the stage, maybe for the final time. “No final ploy? No contingency in your master plan?”

As I told you before, it is a gesture of good will. No, that isn’t it, is it. Guilt is what you call it? Regardless of why, though I am no ally of yours, I hope you find peace. This being, which had once strewn a web that led humanity to the brink, and who knows, maybe would one day do the same, just sounded so very tired. So very sad. Against Marcille’s better judgement, she pitied it.

“I’m sure you did too. Whether you deserved it or not aside.” she could not resist adding the second half. It would feel disingenuous to say otherwise. To act like she did not hate it. To act like she wished nothing less than for its complete eradication. And yet, it was by his actions that she had met Laios. And it may be by his actions that she may save him too.

Go out there and give me a show then!

For once, the Court Magician didn’t feel like rebuffing the demon’s request. She turned around, secure in the knowledge that if it had wanted to take her, it would’ve already, and ran to meet her guardians. As she ascended the staircase, leaving behind a fading shadow of desire, its words still rang on her ears. Wishing:

I’ll be everywhere. Waiting. And Hoping.

-*-

Marcille and Izutsumi were spat out of the painting, both girls having immediately spouted those words the moment Marcille met back up with her and said it still lived here. That thing was as fickle as only a being beyond time could be, it was best not to linger for when the bit it had taken from Marcille started to run out.

And it was not a moment too soon, because...

“Marcille?!” she heard the familiar voice of her former classmate yell right after she crashed face first into the floor again. She didn’t even have to force herself up again though, even more familiar arms pulling her into the comforting embrace of her mother.

“My principessa! I thought you were in danger! Your fairy wouldn’t respond!” Madeline cried out as she held her tight. Marcille wondered why that would be, but that was a question for another time. Her mother was complete in the right to fear for her, so twirled her right ear with her mother’s left to assure her that she would not outlive her daughter. After she did, she looked away from her still sobbing mother to see Falin, Yaad and even Izutsumi (from the corner of her eye) looking on happily. Madeline probably had busted into a meeting when the appointed time came.

It was strange how Laios, who very much was there, wasn’t even looking at her though. Made her feel a bit jealous... inadequate? Afterall, whatever he was staring at he was staring with such awe and glee... wait... no. No way.

“Marcille! You brought her back?!?!” the King screeched, abandoning all pretences of maturity and decorum while she pointed at little big bundle of scales that had, somehow, managed to leave the painting with her. She thought having used he mana from the paiting would cause it to vanish but, in retrospective, she should have known.

“Wouldn’t call it bringing her back, but please don’t eat her this time around! She’s a good girl, aren’t you Ketz?!” the Coatl cuddled up to her and her mother, rumbling with happiness when the elven family, and Falin, slide their hands own its spine. When Laios stepped up though, it hissed, Marcille feeling her fear.

“This stupid curse...” Laios moaned, but Marcille shook her head.

“We share memories Laios. Someone will have to gain her trust again after what they did!” Laios let his head hang low but nodded.

“That aside, what made you jump into a living painting like this?” Yaad asked and it all came rushing back to Marcille.

“Tsumi! Please tell you asked Delgal about it!” she shouted not even wanting to entertain the thought of jumping back in. The catgirl puffed out her chest and wagged her tail proudly, smiling as she said:

“Did more than that! The old man shared his family recipe with me! Got it right here!” Marcille’s heart sank as she said it, knowing that nothing that originated in the painting could be taken out. But... she did pull out a scroll. And when Marcille ran up to her, it was... legible.

“How is this possible?!” Marcille exclaimed, looking up and down the recipe to see if it made sense. It absolutely did. “Laios, you sure you weren’t tricking us way back when?!”

“I wouldn’t do that! And look, the recipe’s title is starting to wilt away!” Laios exclaimed as he pointed at the L slowly fading into dust.

And let me tell you. Slowly fading into dust was not pleasant.

“That sneaky little... this doesn’t change anything.” she whispered to herself, turning to the rest of the room. “Mamma, Falin, help me copy the recipe to a real scroll before it fades. Yaad, check if we have the ingredients for this! Laios, Tsumi, get the kitchen ready! We can talk this over a meal, for now, it’s time to cook!”

“Who died and made you queen?!” Tsumi growled back, but for everyone else:

“Ma’am yes, ma’am!”

-*-

Thankfully the Toudens and Marcille had stocked the pantry in Thistle’s lair to the brim for all their escapades. Most of Delgal’s recipe could be followed, with the exception of the main ingredient. Marcille hoped Yaad could get it, but the recipe did come with a replacement in case one didn’t. She doubted it would reach Thistle with a mere replacement though.

“Is the tofu ready, Laios?” she asked, receiving an affirmative nod. “Alright, mash it good Tsumi!” she was in strangely high spirits considering how terribly the day had started. She would hate it if she had had them raised by that thing, but as she looked around for a large bowl, the scenario made clear what was filling her heart. To be cooking with her family. Something she had never really experienced to this degree. She had cooked with the Toudens yes, she had seen and been taught by her mother yes, but all three, plus Tsumi? She could imagine no happier place than this kitchen.

“Dice the water chestnuts, drop the scallion’s whites, mince the ginger...” she mumbled as she dropped all of hat in the bowl.

“Got the sugar and the egg yolk!” Falin popped in, dropping the ingredients.

“Measured the pepper, wine, soy sauce and cornstarch!” Madeline added the more delicate ingredients in.

“Smashed and mashed tofu, ready!” Laios and Izutsumi finished. The mix was a strange one. But it was missing the main attraction. The door opened just in time.

“One of the chimeras had a portion of lion in them!” Yaad announced happily. Marcille rolled her eyes. Of course it couldn’t be a regular old lion. Well, monsters could be tastier, so she’d have to go along with it.

“Are you sure about this little principessa? I am pretty sure the name is just for the pizazz...” Madeline commented, and true, this was probably originally meant to be done with pork, but if Delgal himself (kinda) recommended this to Izutsumi, who were they to disagree.

“C’mon Madie, you have yet to taste the real Melini specialty! Dungeon Food!” Laios told what Marcille hoped would be his mother-in-law sooner than nature. The excitement in the room was contagious, and soon enough, after some preparation and refrigeration, the entire room was making meatballs out of lion meat.

“After they take shape, drop some oil and brown them in a pan, once they are looking nice and crispy, add to a bowl with the pre-made basilisk (chicken) broth, let it mix, then drop into a pot with bok choy and cabbage. Season with salt and... let it rest in the fire.” she enumerated, carefully eyeing the Toudens, Yaad and Izutsumi following her orders.

“I am so glad you found a family to call your own this quickly Marcille.” her mother whispered contently as the two Esperian women worked on getting the vermicelli noodles ready and stirred. “Once this entire debacle is done, I won’t have to be afraid to let you spread your wings.”

“Oh Mamma, don’t worry, I’ll come visit. We have all the time in the world!” Marcille reassured once she saw Madeline’s eyes had began to water again. She really had worried her mother to death, hadn’t she?

“Don’t you dare come visit until after I get an invitation to the wedding!” she threatened, playfully shoving a noodle in her mouth. Marcille giggled and nodded while slurping it.

“Yup, good enough! Now let’s add it all together to the same pots.” the head chef declared, splitting a bit of the noodles into a smaller pot and the majority into a larger one. “In ten minutes, we’re rushing this to Thistle, so get your warm-ups ready!”

“Aye, aye!”

-*-

Marcille, Izutsumi and the Toudens peered through the small gap in the doorway Yaad had left when entering the infirmary.

“Hey, aren’t ours gonna be freezing when we get to ‘em?” Izutsumi complained. Marcille smacked the back of the ungrateful cat’s head, but Falin, as always, pampered her.

“I left our pot on top of a fire rune. It’ll be fine when we get to it!” the catgirl’s tail wagged and she purred and rubbed against Falin’s back while the other two just glared at the two, knowing this would only elicit worse behaviour from the eastern girl.

Eventually though, the sound of a bowl being laid on the table jolted them to look back. Yaad was tying a bib around Thistle when he did, ironic given that Thistle had been there for his grandfather’s birth. The older man sat across the table and swallowed as the catatonic elf gazed past him.

“Thistle I... I know I’m no replacement for my grandfather. Even if I wear his face, I do it out of necessity and with great constraint.” he began, playing with his fork and knife in a way that better suited his younger-looking self. “But I have a feeling that you’re doing a lot more for us than you let on. And you certainly tried to sacrifice far more than anyone should. We’ve had our differences, but I hope this meal reminds you that there’s still a world out here for you. Despite it all.”

And with that, he opened the lid. The scent exploded along with the steam, the strong vapor being enough to deposit the so very similar, yet unique from boar in Marcille’s mouth. In moments she was drooling, but something else had caught her attention. Thistle’s eyes were open. Well and truly open.

The Golden Kingdom’s Greatest Secret Recipe!

Actual-Lion’s-Head Meatball Noodles!

“Del- Yaad. You’re... this...” he still strained to talk. His body still would all but creak as it moved. But slowly, laboriously, as his eyes watered at the sight of a dish that, according to Yaad, only him and Delgal had been allowed to ever share, he reached for the fork in front of him.

“I’m sorry if I’m intruding Thistle. But I didn’t want you to go back to eating alone just because my grandfather isn’t here anymore...” Yaad mummed, testing the waters. He seemed ready to abandon this and simply let Thistle eat by himself if he wanted to, but a slow, pained twist of Thistle’s head glued him to his seat.

“No. Thank you Yaad.” Thistle smiled like he had never smiled since that day at the feast. He was still the charcoaled remains of his former self. But there was a spark in that once extinguished bonfire now. “And some thanks are owed to the nosy usurpers too...” he added with a wry smirk while glancing momentarily towards the, now closing, door.

“You’d think he’d act his age...” Marcille rolled her eyes, pretending annoyance as she and her own family left the remnants of the former golden kingdom’s ruling family to reconnect. Unfortunately, she couldn’t hide the gargantuan grin that had taken over her face.

-*-

“Amazing! The lion’s meat really sucked up all the flavours much better than boar does!” Falin exclaimed as she dug into the meatballs. “It’s chewy, but the flavour is strong to compensate. It kind of reminds me of the red dra-” Laios glared at his sister. She doubled back. After all, nothing tasted like dragon. Nothing. Such was the law.

“These noodles are way different from the ones in the east.” Izutsumi commented after loudly slurping the noodles. They would have to work on her table manners if she were going to become the royal bodyguard. “...you do realize these noodles, right Mar?”

“Of course, normally I’d do spaghetti, but I was following the- Mar?!” Marcille exclaimed, attempting to pinch Izutsumi’s cheeks. “You called me by a nickname!”

“I mean, you’ve been doing that for months. I had to give you some payback...” Izutsumi whispered, scooting away to keep eating.

“I never expected to eat actual Lion though. It kinda tastes like vengeance. Is this anything like the real deal you ate, amore mio?” she questioned, not sure if she wanted it to be so or not given her last meeting with the Demon.

“Nah, it tasted like, well, how I taste when I bite my tongue and stuff. It was just me at that point. But furry.” Laios explained, extra pep on the last line. Marcille chuckled. Imagining him furry was not hard at all really. She took one of her balls and threw it up in the air, Ketz gobbling it happily.

Eventually though, the happy dinner ended, and she recounted the happenings of the morning to the trio. Her mother had excused herself of her own accord, even if Marcille didn’t mind telling her now.

She was a bit confused as to why Laios and Falin were smiling by the time she finished her tale. Her expression must have translated because Laios pulled her in and kissed her forehead gently while Falin rubbed the back of her hand. She could hear Izutsumi gag.

“We’re proud you can be so honest with us now.” Falin told her, with Laios gently adding:

“And that you didn’t think of a stupid scheme to be the one to take this curse onto yourself.” Marcille wanted to say she’d never do that but... no, she would have. Not too long ago even.

“Well, some overbearing cuccioli wouldn’t let me go if I did. But, I value my life a lot more now thanks to all of you.” she replied, adjusting her hair to show all three a serene smile, all three looking mighty relieved and a bit proud too, even if one of them was trying very hard not to show it.

“I still don’t get why I looked like that in the dream though...” Laios wondered. Marcille had a theory. One that had been brewing ever since he had returned. That had grown from a far-off fear to a looming threat, to a legitimate possibility, to something that seemed all but certain now.

“Laios, I think you’re human because... that’s what your view of a monster is.” all three stared at her, then back to Laios. It didn’t feel right outright saying it. “Maybe was... I don’t want to-”

“No, it’s alright Marcille. Whatever it is not doesn’t matter, it probably was back then. But what makes you say that?” Laios always knew how to calm her down. A simple swipe of his thumb on her cheek returned her to full capacity.

“Well, Falin is clearly turning back into a Dragon. And today I realized that I’m slowly turning into something resembling the Winged Lion. These are not just random monsters; they are the things we feared turning into the most. Laios, well, you didn’t seem to want to come back from your new body at all. Not until...”

“Not until you called Marcille.” he confirmed. It was strange. She had always assumed it had been her, even before she knew she loved him. Even before she hoped he loved her back. How had she been so blind? She wasn’t sure if it was a good thing. If she had indeed chained him down. But... she couldn’t help but... “Marcille, you’re blushing.” she turned around and covered her face. She was hopeless! “Still, that doesn’t answer why he looked like that.”

“You mean you didn’t fear humans?”

“No! I mean, what’s with that gaudy armour?! I thought I’d be wearing the same clothes you did Marcille!” he exclaimed with not a hint of shame.

“W-WHAAAAAAAAT?!” she screamed. Of all things to bring back into the conversation from back then!

“You still on about that?!” Izutsumi yelled, smacking him repeatedly across the head with her tail.

“I mean, brother, I don’t think it would fit is all...” Falin mumbled, Marcille nodding vigorously through her half-functioning brain.

“Y-yeah of course. I mean, it’s designed for women. It would fall off in the chest!” she exclaimed. Falin’s eyes returned to their slitted selves as she gazed at both her brother’s and her own chest areas.

“I... think you got it backwards Marcille.” She told, no, stated. With the tiniest smirk forming afterwards.

“Yup, would definitely rip apart if we put it on him.” Izutsumi said the quiet part out loud and Marcille wanted to die.

“W-will you guys please take this seriously!?!” She screamed, trying to reign the conversation back in. Laios laid a hand on her head.

"I am taking this seriously. But throwing our arms in the air and feeling sorry for ourselves isn't going to help anyone. We have analyse what we got and then go to work with the cards we were given." It was remarkable how quickly he managed to return to his kingly posture nowadays. Both Laios were one flip of a coin away from each other, and he always seemed to know which combination to use to make her feel at ease.

"You talk like we have any." she asked rhetorically. He stood back up and paced around her.

"I think we do. Someone or something is specifically trying to kill you, maybe even us. That doesn’t really align with either what the Winged Lion predicted or what the nightmare version of ourselves seemed to want to happen.” Marcille’s eyes, and Izutsumi’s widened. Leave it to Laios to not get stuck inside the box. “There has to be a third party involved. And I'd like to think that if we find it in time, if we figure out the specifics of what's going on..."

"We can turn it back on those nightmares!" she exclaimed with a couple of fist pumps.

"Now there's the Marcille I love!" he wrapped his arms around her from behind her chair, kissing the back of her head softly as he did so. The world felt so much simpler, even as her brain accelerated back into work mode.

"But how do we go about finding who's calling the shots? We sorta killed off everyone who attacked us..." Marcille stared back at her own hands, and then at Izutsumi. She didn’t want to throw blame onto the girl, but... it was true.

"Don't look at me, you torched a couple too!" Izutsumi spat back, even if she did look a bit remorseful.

"About that. Falin and I have been cooking up an idea for a few days now." Both sibling’s eyes gleamed with all the hope, and derangement, that came with a Touden who had their loved ones in be threatened.

This could not be good.

But then... why was she so excited to hear it?

Chapter 17: Breaking some Roc Eggs...

Chapter Text

-*-

A day had passed since the Marcille had met with the Lion, and while Laios very much rather be doing anything else right now, with his plan needing time to get going, he had to… shiver do his job!

As such he sat on his throne, flanked by Marcille on his right side and Yaad on the other, with Kabru next to him. Meanwhile, just down the small stairs to the throne were a set of a half-foot, a gnome and a tall-man, the delegation from Kahka Brud. As the nearest nation to Melini, Yaad had insisted on giving them priority once they had been done with his parents.

The middle gnome was an elder woman, certainly approaching, if not surpassing two centuries. Meanwhile the other two were of able age. Kahka Brud had always been an amalgamation of cultures, despite being always led by the Half-Foot Coalition, so it made sense to see such a diverse set of peoples.

What made a lot less sense was when said gnomish woman pointed at Marcille and started speaking in tongues. Laios could scarcely remember the sounds she made as ones he had heard similar of in taverns and pubs, but he could not put pin down where, when, or why. He looked to Marcille and Yaad, who seemed equally confused. It was only when the tall-man spoke that any light was shed.

“The Lady Harkenbow questions the need to exhibit a prisoner of war when in negotiations.” the lanky red-haired male in extravagant clothings explained. “And she would not risk her nation’s security by dealing in front of a Witch. For it is known that stray words can be made contracts with Black Magic.”

Laios took a deep, long breath. Fury, of course, threatened to pour out again. But he would hold it back, if just for now. The council, Marcille included, had rightfully predicted this to be a subject that would come up many times in the coming days, weeks, maybe even months, and he had to train himself to clear it up.

“Tell Lady Harkenbow that Marcille is my Court Magician, and as such of utmost importance to this audience.” he replied summarily. When the tall-man did so, not reflecting any surprise at all, the woman spoke again in her strange tongue.

“She would then call into question this entire kingdom, for them to call upon the advice of a former Lord of a Dungeon. And would like me to-”

“Bustral magnui faldrulial.” Kabru suddenly said, emerging from the position of nigh obscurity that he had taken behind Yaad. He descended the stairs, his words clearly reaching the woman and the tall-man even as they became less and less recognizable. Kabru was rather small and lithe for a tall-man, but even the he towered above the woman. The tall-man moved to speak, but the woman raised her voice again. Kabru took whatever she dished with a smile before replying with another set of unintelligible words, before ending with: “And your performance is very unconvincing, Lady Harkenbow, High Magician of Order of the Spirits. Someone who has watched over Kahka Brud for over a century and a half would never be able to do so without speaking Common.”

The woman smiled a crooked smile, looking past Kabru and through Laios.

“You have good men my child, but unfortunately, just like the elves said, they are not the ones sitting on the throne.” she mugged, turning herself to the side and snapping her fingers. “If I may have a few minutes to discuss the information given to us?”

Laios could barely speak after that accusation, Yaad having to step in and give them the break that everyone desperately needed right now.

“What happened down there?” the former lord of Melini questioned when his minister of foreign affairs returned.

“I ripped the bandage off.” Kabru stated calmly, looking at his regent. “I told them that if they kept slandering our future Queen’s name in our court, the most merciful course of action we would be afforded would be to let her men slice her tongue.”

“You cannot be serious!” Marcille hissed through gritted teeth. “Are you trying to get us into a war!?”

“Marcille. They know. They’ve been here for days. They know you two are together.” Kabru snapped back, eyeing daggers onto the emissaries. “Did you see any surprise in her eyes when I was talking to her? Yet they came here feigning ignorance and throwing insults. They’re looking down on us. On Laios.” he returned his gaze onto his King.

“Maybe they are right to...” he whispered, low enough that he was sure even that half-foot would not register.

“They cannot be. If they cannot abide by the laws of proper etiquette, and we allow them to do so, it is pretty much an admission that they can make any demand of us.” Yaad answered for Kabru, covering the view between the emissaries and Laios. “Make them work within your wheelhouse Laios, this is your court, you get to choose how to address them.”

“I can work with that...” Laios nodded, knowing what Yaad had just given him permission to do. Drop the act.

“We are done discussing, if you are.” the gnome woman told the delegation.

“Very much. I’ll cut to the chase, why are you here? And I don’t mean something obvious like, who sent you, or ‘for politics’, I mean, why were you sent here? What are your orders?” Laios asked, taking the trio aback by his... common use of words.

“Well... we came here to discuss the borders between our two countries. Given that Melini was simply an island beforehand, which, while under its own jurisdiction, was not in control of its maritime surroundings, the expansion of the land has pierced into our territory.” the tall-man explained, almost like he regurgitated what he had been forced to rehearse.

“There’s nothing to discuss.” Laios replied, opening a scroll that he had been forced to read before the meeting. “Kahka Brud owned the sea around the Island. Well, there’s no longer any sea here, is there?” Marcille walked to his side and opened a newly updated world map, showing how the resurfaced landmass was indeed, entirely land. But, more importantly, how... “And the western edge of Melini, where the ocean begins, was formerly considered international waters, not Kahka Brudian, correct? So, really, you don’t have a claim to any of this.”

“And you do? A Fardomian kid that killed a crazed elven child? What court will that claim hold to?” Lady Harkenbow groaned, Yaad countering with an uncharacteristic laugh.

“That is rich from the people who, and I quote from the Histories of Karlile, claimed the ocean for no one else had the boats to do so.” the former prince said, putting the elder gnome on the backfoot. “The claim we hold is the same claim my grandfather held, which is one you did not contest when he came and offered it to whomever took it. In fact, from what I’ve heard, you took advantage of the influx of interest to the area and the Island’s dungeon to revitalize your entire, dying, trade network. Yet, we dared not ask for recompense for the part that our territory had in doing so, nor did we accuse you of invasion to a territory that you, ostensibly, did not own. Circ*mstance and context basic concepts in this era too, are they not?”

“You... you’re the Yaad Melini? What are you doing there, bowing to a peasant boy from a nameless village?” the elder gnome croaked, probably not having believed the survival of a millennia year old prince until now.

“My grandfather granted claim of his land to the one who defeated The Lunatic Magician, and, well I am respecting a King’s dying wish. We only ask you to do the same.” Yaad answered back and there was silence for a while.

“We... we can make the transition easier.” Laios suddenly said. Kabru and Yaad were going to stop him, he could tell, but then:

“We understand that the circ*mstances are, well, unique.” Marcille tapped Ambrosia repeatedly to gain attention and took the stage. “While we cannot give you back what was lost, we can grant you privileges on trading in the area, cuts on tariffs, hire your country’s men for our projects. There’s plenty we can do for each other, it would be a shame to turn a fruitful prospect to a partnership into the call for war.” for as honest and fair as her attempt at reaching out was, the reception was... mixed. The tall-man was unreadable, but the half-foot seemed rather interested, showing emotions for the first time ever since they entered. The gnome lady seemed rather... negative to say the least. Laios could not tell if that was plain not being impressed, fear, or, worse, disgust.

“We are not foolish enough to make any statement on the matter without consulting with the Coalition. Be it positive or negative. As such...” the tall-man turned to the half-foot beside her. “Prompo, you handle the negotiations. Make sure the offers that they make are not ones that will waste the Coalition’s time.” The half-foot nodded, lighting up at the prospect of, probably, entering his wheelhouse. The woman and the tall-man then turned around, seemingly beginning to leave.

“While the next subject may not be in the lady’s field, someone who has raised generations of leaders is always welcome to stay and opine.” Kabru offered Harkenbow. The gnome turned around, her eyes flat and monotone and said:

“It is because I have done so that I know there’s nothing to be gained from using the little time I have left on a King whose line will die in the same bed that he bedded his mule on.”

Laios crushed the side of the throne’s golden wood under his now bleeding fist.

Whatever lessons of decorum he had been taught faded in the same red mist that had taken his eyes and thoughts. The King, no, the man, left his throne and began descending the stairs. The Brudian tall-man wizard pulled out a wand from his cloak, while the half-foot scurried away. He couldn’t understand. They had been nothing but accommodating to them, but ever since they stepped on this room, they had done nothing but poke at them, asking, begging for a fight. And at this point, maybe...

“Laios!” Marcille stood between him and his quarry. She didn’t need to say anything, neither did he. They both knew what the other had in their mind. But that was not what gave Laios pause. What stopped him dead in his tracks was the image of him reflected in his beloved’s eyes. The image of a horned king. Of a future that he was mere steps away from embarking on.

“Lady Harkenbow...” he began, taking Marcille’s hand in his and leaning his forehead onto hers, caressing her right cheek and rounded ear that branded her a mule. He would not even give... wench a look. “You are no longer welcome in my court until you formally apologize to, and earn the approval of, my Marcille. Leave.”

It took all he had to leave it at this. It took even more to return to his throne to go along with the upcoming negotiations as if nothing had happened.

“Laios.” Marcille whispered as they returned to their positions. “Maybe it’s best if I don’t attend these... until my name is cleared up at least.”

“I appreciate it, but don’t.” Laios said, no, ordered. “Their reaction to you tells me all I need to know about how to deal with them...”

The previous conversation had taken so much in fact, that he had failed to register the reaction of his own Court Magician to his demands.

To think that his plan was still a week away....

-*-

And what a week it was. None of the meetings had gone quite as terribly as the first one with his parents or the one with Kahka Brud, but a couple things were evident as Kabru ran through them on his report.

“So, to put it in simple terms, average tariffs that will be applied to us are fifteen percent higher than usual, we’re only getting workers from guilds, not government establishments...” Kabru stared back at Laios, who shrugged. He could understand that these things weren’t good, but these weren’t exactly simple terms. Fifteen percent didn’t sound like much, but he knew that it could quickly add up. “They are going to bleed us dry in a couple years at this rate. Most are not openly hostile, but no one has been willing to put their neck out for us.” Kabru quickly surmised, and yeah, that was exactly how Laios saw it too.

“Such is human nature.” Yaad sighed. “Unfortunately that much has stayed consistent for the last millennia. Melini has no industries to speak off currently, nor any natural resources that we are aware or have the infrastructures to offer for now.”

“Essentially, they aren’t crushing us, but they are saying we have to make ourselves useful for the world as soon as possible if we don’t want to bleed out.” Marcille commented, clutching her head. “How much of this is my fault?”

Kabru and Yaad shared a look. Laios glared, daring them to try something. The voice of ‘reason’ was a strange one.

“Very little I would surmise. For now, at least.” Pattadol stated as she flipped through the logs once more. “I believe you are currently being used as a convenient excuse to claim the moral high ground in these absurd tariffs, but if you were not here, they’d find another way. This seems rather standard treatment of newborn nations. It’s partially how larger ones discourage rebellions and secessions to create smaller states.” she slammed a second stack of papers that she had laying next to her, nearly chair height. “I went over the records for measures used on new nations by our empire, and while these are a bit harsher, it’s nowhere near enough to feel like a targeted attack.”

“How did you-” Kabru raised an eyebrow, probably more aware of elven politics than Laios was.

“My sisters.” the young elf quickly replied, adding: “It’s also how I know that, at least publicly, Her Majesty is not planning on taking action against Melini yet. Though, I am still completely unable to reach her since the last meeting. I’ve asked Lysandra to go to the capital and formally request a meeting, we’ll see how it goes.”

“Aren’t you proactive,” Mithrun mumbled, a tiny phantom of a smile passing by his lips as he sat back from... was the guy sleeping?! No fair, if Laios knew he could do that he would have too!

“I’m trying to clean up for my mess Captain. I would ask you to do the same, but Milsiril told me not to mention that person around you.” Pattadol said, but even someone like Laios realizing she had just... done it really.

“My brother aside, from what I gathered, we have to show them that our country’s worth being on the map. All the more reason to go with his majesty’s plans as soon as possible.” Mithrun prompted, Laios raising both eyebrows.

“Riiiight. Anything the orcs can provide would be something unique to our country.” Laios commented, Marcille adding:

“We’ll probably have to massage where it comes from though. Until it has proven results.” she looked pleadingly at Laios, who did not even notice how this was the second time she had asked something of this sort.

“Seems for the best yeah.” She gave him a smile and passed her thumb over his cheek. He wanted to do a lot more than reciprocate that, but he could feel Kabru’s burning blue fire piercing the back of his head. “T-To recap then. We’ll be taking a small entourage to the Orc settlement under the pretence of negotiating an agreement between our masons and their tribe and to investigate those strange interceptions of wagons around the area. It’ll be me, Marcille, Falin, Izutsumi, Senshi and Mithrun, plus Head Mason Marmori. Hopefully some assassins will take the bait so that we can capture them and force information out of them with Pattadol.”

“I’m still not comfortable using our own royalty as bait.” Yaad commented, and to an extent, Laios understood his point of view. But the dungeon had taught him that, many times, the only way to get out of a sticky situation was to put your leg in a place where it really shouldn’t be going in.

“I’m the one baiting them, Yaad.” Marcille corrected, receiving a knowing glance from everyone in the room. Took a while for both Laios, and apparently her too to realize what that meant. “O-Oh.”

“R-Right. So, with that out of the way. Any objections?” Laios stumbled. Kabru piped up.

“I understand why you’re taking Senshi, and I doubt we could stop Falin and Izutsumi even if we tried. But why just Mithrun? Surely you can at least take a regiment of soldiers!” he seemed more than a bit more agitated than usual. Laios couldn’t place a finger on why.

“The objective is to make it look as rash as possible, and as in-character as possible but that’s a tautology, while still not making it obviously a trap. With that in mind, I had the King suggest who should go and had that information dispersed first.” Mithrun explained, turning to the guilty-looking lord he served. “Since for some reason his plan would have been just him and his little family plus the orc’s best friend, I begrudgingly went with it, and then I added myself into the dispersed information late last night to make it look like us, as the council, had caught wind of Laios’... Laiosness, late and could only spare me on such a short timing. If someone like you found the time to leave, then it would be a dead giveaway that we made plans.”

“I guess that’s all valid but...” the head of foreign affairs stumbled on his words as the acting commander of the army, emphasis on acting, ruffled his already curly hair.

“Relax. I’ve only died once, and it was to someone who’s in this room. You should worry more about not overworking yourself to an even earlier grave.” Mithrun stated, his expression blank but such gestures were already enough of a rarity that no one in the council blamed Kabru as his normally chocolate toned skin blossomed into a rose tint.

And with that, meeting was adjourned.

-*-

The sun had just made itself known when the aforementioned bait squad had begun to load their things onto the caravan, with some help from their former party members. Marcille had half a mind to summon Ketz to do her heavy lifting for her, but the townsfolk didn’t need to have more reasons to be afraid of her. That and she had other things taking her mind.

“Are we really sure we gave the news enough time to spread? I agree that the orc problem needs to be addressed but... I really could use some more time at the library.” Marcille commented. The last week had been a whole lot of nothing when it came to finding cases that had anything in common with what they were experiencing, and Thistle was still barely functional, he would talk once a day at most, so she couldn’t quiz him still. Honestly, she had made more progress in her and Laios’ secret project, just by osmosis of going through Thistle’s old books, than she had in their main problem.

“We’ve made this information practically impossible to miss. Between official announcements, Kabru and his former party spreading the information and Fionil going to the previous meeting spot and finding that it had been stripped bare, I can tell you from experience that if assassins do not come, they are either too incompetent to have ever picked up on it, or they chose not to come.” Shuro said, getting some raised eyebrows from the rest of his party. “Situations like this were... are a bit too close to routine back home.”

“Little spoiled brat here nearly got offed once a year,” Izutsumi yawned, already having scooted into the cart and wrapped herself in some of the tent’s fabrics. “I’d say you people gotta get used to it, but I’m actually trying to keep you alive, so most won’t even breathe down your neck, let alone get a stab at it.”

“I appreciate the honesty if nothing else.” Shuro groaned, rolling his eyes. “I still wish you would bring more security.”

“That wouldn’t feel very authentic to my brother, now would it?” Falin answered with a smile, adding: “Don’t worry, I’m more than enough to keep myself safe.”

“I’m worried about Laios more than you Falin.” Shuro answered, and with that Marcille’s jaw nearly hit the floor.

“Y-You alright there, big guy?” Namari questioned, aghast.

“C’mere Shuro, I need to measure your temperature.” Marcille tagged in.

“Oh no, he’s starting to realize that the Toudens are more similar than he wanted to admit...” Chilchuck clutched his head, looking at Marcille with a glance that begged her not to let this turn into that kind of romcom.

“That’s so sweet Shuro!!!!!” Laios tried his best to hug the, now, very regretful eastern man.

Falin for her part, just seemed taken aback, Marcille surmised it was probably the lack of smothering coming from him. “I’m a bit sad to have missed you two starting to get along.” she told the two men with a bittersweet smile. “But don’t worry Shuro, we’ll do our best to keep each other out of trouble. Thank you.” They both shared a small reciprocal nod before the silence was broken by:

“And even if they don’t, they have the best bodyguard they could ask for.” An unfamiliar voice to Marcille added from behind her. The first thing she noticed was how, even before turning to her, the entire gang sans Senshi turned paler than some of the ghosts they had turned into sorbet, slowly turning their heads in Marcille’s direction. She was going to turn around, but then a strangely short, tall-man woman passed her by and waved at everyone there. “It’s been quite a while everyone! I see time has been treating you quite well!” the redhaired woman added. Marcille could swear she had heard about someone fitting the description of a short, shorthaired woman of that hair colour. Wait.

“Oh. Hello... Asivia.” Falin answered, none of the decorum left in her normally soft expression. “Why are you here?”

“Oh, come now sister! I’m here to protect my dear old Father!” Asivia replied, calling over the head of the Mason’s Guild. Not that Marcille was paying any attention, her mind had just clicked.

“Asivia... wait, you’re the one that tried to leech off of Laios, aren’t you?!” she growled, dashing in front of her before she could make her way to her lover. This was the so-called ‘marriage-seeker’, wasn’t she?! The one that nearly broke up the party before she even arrived!

“Oh, you must be my replacement.” Asivia didn’t look at all phased, instead raising a hand to meet hers. “It’s been quite a while Marcille.”

“Wha-” Marcille gasped. She had never seen his woman in her life.

“Oh, you don’t remember. I guess the greatest student ever at the Academy would have little time to remember a classmate of just a couple classes.” she answered. Marcille was a bit taken aback, but... yeah she really couldn’t remember anyone besides a handful of people from her Academy days, most of them teachers. “You already were a researcher by the time we shared one after all.”

“D-Don’t change the subject!” Marcille replied, staring back at the the Mason’s guild leader, and noting that he did have some red hidden behind that nearly entirely silver mane of his. And their eyes did look rather similar, even if Asivia had a very distinct nose to his. “Lord Marmori is your father. Why would you even be adventuring then?!”

“Is it really so hard to believe? I mean, Lord Laios and Sister Falin are from good stock. Shuro’s effectively a prince. You’re from quite the line yourself. We all had our reasons to tackle that hellhole...” Asivia answered as she passed by her and quickly grabbed Laios’ hand and planted a kiss on it. “It’ll be a pleasure to catch up, Your Majesty.”

“You bi-” Marcille was halted only by Mithrun covering her mouth and whispering next to her ear.

“Think of Laios’ position. You have to catch her lacking if you don’t want to validate any of the worst rumours about you.” he seemed uncomfortable while saying that, especially when Laios squirmed a smile back to the woman.

“I... hate politics...” she groaned once he released her.

“You tell me...” he answered, letting her go and moving to join the conversation, hopefully to act as a wedge.

What a thing to bond with this guy over...

For her own sake, and Melini’s, she went back to finish the preparations so that they could leave as soon as possible. The sooner they left so that someone could try to kill her, the sooner they could be rid of these people.

-*-

The first day of travel was... as passable as it could be. Laios and Falin had managed to spend the entirety of it just recounting their adventures to their old party member. While Asivia did try to pull on any thread to go into more personal matters, either Laios legitimately didn’t realize it, or he used the plausible deniability that came from being Laios to dodge it.

The problem was that she was just, all over him. Marcille could not have a single word with Laios that wasn’t under that siren’s purview. Even when they made camp, Asivia suggested taking straws to decide who should stand guard for the night and Marcille just happened to pull the longest straw, taking the first shift, so when she arrived at their tent, Laios was soundly asleep, and she couldn’t bring herself to wake him to vent.

Surely, they’d have time in the morning, she thought as she carefully laid her head against his neck, sobbing momentarily for reasons she couldn’t quite explain. If he were not here, she was sure she’d be unable to fall asleep. It was only the expectation of his dopey sleepy face welcoming back to the world of the waking that let her drift off into the realm of dreams.

But when the mage woke up, Laios was nowhere to be found. She quickly dressed and left her tent, asking Senshi, who was making breakfast, if he had seen Laios.

“Ye just missed him. He was working with me until the old man we are guarding asked to have a word wit him. Think they went to talk by the horses.” Senshi answered, immediately setting off all kinds of alarms on Marcille’s head. But before she ran off, Senshi felt the need to also say: “Maybe it won’t be much of a surprise after I warn ye. But I think ye should know he woke up early to make some special breakfast for ye. He wanted ye to have a bit more rest since yer not used to this much walking.”

She didn’t want to admit it, but that did quash one of the more extreme fears she was having about him. That he was beginning to avoid her.

“Thanks Senshi. I’ll pretend like I don’t know!” she replied with a smile, still rushing to see what that had been about, but no longer afraid of what she may hear from Laios.

She then quickly headed to hide behind the closest tent to the horses and poked her head out. As she expected, it wasn’t just Laios and Lord Marmori, of course his supposed daughter was right there next to them as well. She summoned her fairy and chanted a spell to link their hearings and had her crawl through the grass to approach the trio.

“I admit I didn’t know your family was a branch of the Alandur royal line, but I don’t see why that’s something that needed to be talked about in private. I already met with one of your country’s emissaries and we have established a trading relationship.” Laios told the older, frailer looking tall-man.

“I heard it’s quite the precarious one. One that, if nothing changes, is not much different than trying to plug a hole in your ship with a piece of cloth.” he answered, and both Laios and Marcille frowned. How did he know all of that? “Family privileges.” he answered before it was asked.

“And what? Are you suggesting you can use those privileges of yours to help us out?” Laios questioned, Marcille thanking the stars that he was just as suspicious about this as she was. It was just too convenient.

“Not something as glamorous as that.” the man answered, motioning to his daughter. “But I doubt my dear cousin could justify the sanctions on Melini were the King to wed one of his blood.”

She had heard enough.

“I’m sorry, didn’t you hear?!” Marcille shouted as she made herself known. A flash of light surrounded Laios, the coils of a coatl blocking Asivia from taking his hand as she has clearly been trying to do. “His Majesty’s taken.” She commanded Ketz to hiss at the two, the fury building in her flowing into her summon through their empathic link.

Laios seemed so relieved to see her, and that in of itself was relieving to her too. She expected this to have drawn a line in the sand but, unfortunately, the smile had only left the older man’s face. Asivia was utterly unperturbed.

“Oh, no one is trying to steal anything from you, Lady Marcille. The crown would absolutely be yours to wear.” Asivia answered with a disgusting amount of honesty, attempting to even pet Ketz before the snake chomped inches away from her fingertips. “I would just be filling in for something you lack. After all, the kingdom needs a way to constitute a royal line.”

Something snapped inside Marcille. Something dangerous. Something dark. The grass under feet caught fire, and for the first time since she arrived, that smile left Asivia’s face. Marcille didn’t even know what she had begun chanting, just that she was doing so. She saw Laios slip away from Ketz’s protection and rush to her. She felt strangely betrayed by it. Why wasn’t he as furious as she was at that proposition? Why didn’t he just run up to Asivia and punch her? Why did he look so worried as he rushed to her? Why did he just... push her to the floor instead of kissing her to stop the chanting?!

Then, he vanished.

It had happened instantly. Just as Marcille’s hips hit the ground, a giant sickly-looking yellow eye passed over the two, the air and light distorting around it, and just like that, Laios was ripped away from her.

“I heard the sound of wings and fire, is everyone alri- Laios!” Falin cried out as she arrived with everyone in tow. It was only by following her draconian eyes that Marcille caught wind of her lover’s whereabouts. Just above them.

Laios looked like he was floating in midair, zooming back upwards dozens if not hundreds of feet whilst escaping the camp.

Think Marcille, think. What kind of magic can do this? I can’t feel anything, maybe it’s a monster? But what would...

She remembered it. The beak-like appendage that passed her by before those stark golden eyes. It had to be birdlike in nature. Her eyes were still tracking Laios. He seemed to be stuck on some kind of talons, which were attached to... something. At first it seemed to be as blue as the sky, but as it passed by a cloud it gained its colour, leaving it to pass by the sun and shining with just as much intensity. It couldn’t be...

“It’s a Roc!” Marcille exclaimed, running to where the horses had been tied. “Its feathers are refracting light! It uses them to ambush prey despite being the size of a small boat!”

“Aha! I knew it had to be tied to those orcs. I hear they raise them if their chief kills one which had nested!” Asivia exclaimed, a bit too knowledgeable for Marcille’s tastes.

“Currently, that’s irrelevant.” Mithrun stated, finishing what seemed to be stretches. “Falin, I saw you throw the King against the Hydra.” Falin tried dispel it, but the elf didn’t seem bothered. “Do it to me. As hard as you can.”

“But-”

“No mount can keep up with a Roc once it takes flight. Throw me so that I can get in range. Dawdle and even this chance wi-” Falin didn’t wait for him to finish. Marcille could only watch as the Touden girl swiftly and somewhat violently grabbed both of Mithrun’s ankles and spun him much like what she had done with Laios, but far, far, faster. Once her speed had reached a pitch, with the roar of the mightiest monster, she hurled him through the air, the barrier of sound shattering immediately as Mithrun left her hands.

Laios was already invisible to the naked eye, and Mithrun soon was too. Marcille, Asivia and Falin alike all made a spyglass motion with their hand and chanted the words for Farsight just in time to see Mithrun stop spinning in midair and, just as his speed started to taper off, teleport himself to the talon holding Laios. Laios was... annoyingly excited by the whole experience, only breaking character when Mithrun reached for Kensuke. The sword refused to leave its sheath, both the king and the acting captain of the guard having to combine efforts to get it on the hand of someone who could do something with it.

With an actual weapon in hand, Mithrun somehow cleaved all three trunk-thick claws of the beast in twain with one blindingly fast slash each, sending Laios to free fall. The roar of pain and anger could be heard, and felt, by the half-elf girl miles away.

The visage of the Roc started to give chase, but the former Canary was too quick, touching Laios before either the beak or the claw could reach him and teleporting to places unknown. The Roc stopped and... sighed?!

Then it’s glowing eye met Marcille’s.

“It’s coming back!” Marcille yelled, knowing it from experience rather than by anything she saw.

But knowing that didn’t matter, did it? It could move at the speed of sound, this was an entirely open grassy field for at least a few miles, there was no way to get to the cover of a forest. Even as its wings took off in another sonic boom, one that she knew the destination of, she knew she wouldn’t be able to escape. How could she even see it coming though? At its speed, to try and look for a practically invisible body through small distortions in the air would be impossible.

Those eyes flashed in the back of her mind again.

I’ll have to go for those! Marcile decided it on the spot. A large explosion of light would be the only thing quick enough to hit a monster like this. She didn’t even chant an incantation, just readied herself so that the moment she saw any golden streak, to cast the spell.

“There!” Marcille saw then the unnatural glow of those unnerving eyeballs. The Roc had divebombed just over the ground again, like how it had to grab Laios, the pressure of it’s supersonic flight being enough to rip grass from where it had ingrained itself. The mage didn’t need to wait for it to be in range, she immediately swung her staff to flash bomb it. Yet, in the moments before the flash of light went off, the eyes vanished. Almost like... like it knew she would cast this spell?

The light went off and the hesitation that came with that abnormal reaction had unfortunately, yet again, gotten her caught in her own spell.

“Down you idiot!” She didn’t even have time to curse her own idiocy as she felt a clawed hand force her down to the ground. “Senshi, the nape!” Marcille regained her eyesight in time to see Izutsumi soaring up with Senshi on her back while the Roc’s beak passed by inches away from her.

Izutsumi landed first, her years of bird killing giving her an instinctual understanding of where each body part of the bird would be. Following her directions, Senshi drove the axe down on the monster’s nape, drawing blood, but not cutting deep enough to paralyse it.

“Fa!” Izutsumi called, seconds before Falin landed on top the axe, driving the blade straight into the Roc’s spine. Those deep yellow yellows rolled up to the back of the thing’s skull as this transparent menace lost all control over it’s body, crashing in a torrent of grass and dirt, the debris and the blood created by the collapse staining a hitherto invisible terror.

“Are you alright Mar?” Falin’s voice called to her, the dragon mage still midfall from jumping off the Roc.

“I’m perfectly fi-unharmed.” Mar replied but couldn’t help but think how the only thing she had done was get Laios in a life-or-death situation, fail a spell and then be saved by the child she tried to coddle. She had been everything but fine. She had been useless. Worse than that. Detrimental.

Again.

“Phew, got us worried about there for a se- I mean, good thing we don’t have to worry about patching you up...” Izutsumi mumbled after landing. Normally Marcille would stand back up and try to give her some well-deserved pats for the worry, but she just couldn’t bring herself to right now. Instead, she turned to Senshi and told him:

“The Orcs value the Roc’s head, right? What if we bring it along with us? Should make a nice gift... I think.” She hoped she wasn’t suggesting something that went against their traditions or anything.

“Who cares what they value! They sent that thing to kill us!” Asivia’s father moaned, leaving the safety of his daughter’s back.

“If that is the case then their reaction will help us sus it out.” Senshi wisely countered, nodding along to Marcille’s suggestion. “Good idea Marcille. I wonder how much of its meat we can carry. Oh! If it’s a female it may even have some unfertilized eggs inside!” She already regretted doing so.

“Heeeeeeey! Everyone alright?!” Laios shouted out as he came up from downhill, carrying on his back a still very-much mana-sick Mithrun.

Marcille started to run up to him, but something hit her on the side and threw her to the ground, and by the time she got her bearings, Laios was too busy dodging Asivia’s hands and body for her to tell him how sorry she was.

With a resigned sigh, she vowed to do better next time.

-*-

An entire days’ worth of walking had not helped Marcille’s mindspace in the slightest. She had to act as a wall between Asivia and the Toudens. It was... it was really the only thing she knew she had to do now. It didn’t matter what she felt about herself, she just knew that gold digger to be bad news. The few times that Senshi, her father, or heck, even Mithrun, would steal the girl’s gaze, Laios and Falin immediately circled her to torture her with all their oh-so-well-intentioned worry and pampering. Izutsumi was always there but the girl would not understand the kind of feelings she was going through, she was much too self-assured and to the point. Marcille envied that about her. She needed to get away. She needed to be alone, she needed to collect her thoughts.

Her chance came once they had set up camp. Asivia and her father had retreated to their tent, saying they’d be back by dinner, Laios and Falin were birdwatching, likely hoping for other, less murderous, monsters to be flying nearby, as doubtful as that was considering Laios’ curse, Senshi was cooking with Izutsumi sleeping by his pot, taking the chance to rest before her nightshift and Mithrun was standing guard. Marcille gathered her soap and a towel and went to Senshi.

“Senshi, I’m going to wash myself in the river down the hill. If anyone starts panicking about me being missing, tell them I’ll be back by dinner.” she told the dwarf, breaking him out of his stratagems.

“Yeh sure it’s safe to leave on yer own after this morning? Why not ask Falin to go with ye?” he asked, his worry only further twisting the shards of glass that felt so deeply ingrained in Marcille’s stomach now. She knew he didn’t mean it but... was she always this much of a liability to him?

“I’m having Ketz watch over me from one of the treetops. If anything happens, she’ll warn you guys.” Marcille told Senshi, who didn’t seem entirely convinced. “Please Senshi. I... I really need some time alone.” she pleaded, tears, for some reason, already building up in her eyes.

“Ah... I could tell yer eyes were looking mighty lost since that fight. I doubt anything I can tell ye right now will be of help if yer so desperate to have a moment for yerself. Go on then. I’ll make an extra-large portion to warm your stomach once you’re back!” he told her with a soft look in his eyes. Marcille appreciated Senshi’s willingness to give people space. If she had asked Mithrun or the Toudens they would put up a fight and she really, really didn’t have it in her right now.

So, she snuck away, calling Ketz with the help of her fairy to stand guard in the midst of a foliage of a nearby tree.

As she skulked out of camp, she heard muffled yelling from the Marmori family tent, but try as she might, the fabric was too thick to hear exactly what they were on about, much less see. And really, she wasn’t about to waste her hard-earned chance to put a stop to whatever had caused that woman to go on a tantrum again.

By the time she arrived at the river, the sun had begun to set. She had better hurry up, the darkness was the friend of many a beast, and the morning’s attack showed that they could not rely on Laios’ curse for protection.

She stripped herself bare, not even caring if any stray gazes caught her and walked into the calm stream. The water was cold. Usually this would make Marcille reconsider, possibly even attempt to warm it with her magic. But not today. She felt like she needed these needles prickling at her skin. She didn’t deserve all those fancy smelling salt laden baths in pristine bathtubs and their perfectly tempered herbed waters.

There, she let her body float in the slow flow just outside the shore, her long golden hair splaying across the water’s edge like a golden fisherman’s snare. She had dared not look upon her reflection as she did so. Knowing who would be there to taunt her for her lack of progress countering the curse laid upon them.

As she stared into the falling sun, floating oh-so-gently downstream, she couldn’t help but recall her mother’s words.

You really did not have any idea what you were signing up for when you accepted your position, did you?

Not only had she not, but how Laios hadn’t either. At first, she had thought that to be only her mother’s warning on the lengths she would have to go to, to keep her king safe. She had not considered the fact that she may very well be unqualified to do so. That she would be the centre of so much of his problems.

A Court Magician whose magic could not fell a single monster to protect her king. A prospective Queen that gripped her position so tightly she would not have others share in her King’s love. A criminal who scared away alliances. A love for which her King would ignite wars. She was all that and more. These weren’t things she could erase, none sans the first. They were all intrinsic parts of her being. Of her actions. Of the effect she had on others.

With all that in mind... what was she really doing here?

Something caused Ketz tension to flare, which, along with the sound of a twigs snapping and two bodies colliding, pulled Marcille out of the mire of her thoughts. She quickly stood back up, her body only half-covered in water. She had drifted more than a few meters away from where she had laid her things, Ambrosia included. If this had been an ambush, she would have been defenceless... again. She hoped that whomever Ketz had restrained by coiling itself around their body was anyone but...

“Laios...” she whispered as she saw a pair of bronze orbs peering through the coils of her coatl, which had immediately closed and had the skin around them flush scarlet. Even before that happened, she could tell it was him. The wonder in his eyes, the worry. The love. It hurt so good. She wanted to race to him. Drown in him. Let him feast on her. Just... be his. But it would just end up hurting him again. But she couldn’t run from him either.

“Ketz, it’s alright.” she assured her Coatl. Her protector nodded back and slowly slithered away from the intruder, eyeing her master’s more-than-anything with distrust. Laios still kept his eyes closed, a gentleman to a fault. “I’m also fine with you looking Laios. For better or worse, you’ve seen far more of me than this.”

“At least put on a towel. I couldn’t NOT be distracted by... you know!” Laios was weakly holding out her towel. Marcille smiled, as down on herself as she was, the fact that Laios wouldn’t be able to look away from what she considered a modest and frankly dull body did cause a couple of butterfly wings to flutter in her stomach.

“I really doubt Senshi snitched on me, so, how come you’re here?” Marcille asked while Ketz went to pick up her towel and dropped it on her shoulders. Laios pointed at the flying Coatl on its way back from the action.

“I saw her fly away somewhere and when I trailed her you were sneaking out of camp. I thought you’d be safer if you had company... plus, we haven’t had us time for over a week now.” of course Marcille had been the harbinger of her own downfall and of course he had done all of this entirely out of concern for her, she thought.

“I would say it was for a good reason but... it’s not like my research turned out anything useful.” she sighed, leaning against a rock bulging out of the water’s surface.

“Is that what has had you so down for the last few days?” he asked, softly, sweetly. Marcille should have known this was what it was about. Laios may be bad at reading people, but he was getting better, especially with her. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite there yet. “Come on Marcie, you know you can talk to me. What did you tell me about bottling things up around your loved ones?”

“Even if it hurts...?” the half-elf’s gut screamed against having Laios shoulder any more than he had to, but her brain could not deny that she had advised against the very same thing she would be doing if she did stay quiet.

“Even if it hurts.” her lover assured.

“You have to stop coddling me Laios. It’s doing more harm than good.” she let out, Laios eyes widening in shock, the gears in his head clear turning to discover the basis for the accusation.

“I don’t think that ‘not getting angry at you for not finding a cure to a completely unknown condition in only a week’ counts as coddling Marcie. You’re being too harsh on-”

“It’s not about that Laios. Well, that’s the least of my worries at least...” she knew how absurd that sounded. This was beyond life or death. A fate worse than death awaited one, maybe even all of them if she didn’t solve this. Yet, this still felt like something she could fight against. Unlike the rest.

“What could it... don’t tell me it is about what those people thought of you.” her reaction told him all that it needed to. “Look, they are just ignorant, they don’t know you like we do. No one in the council blames you for how they reacted!”

“And maybe that’s a problem!” Marcille yelled back, the feelings she had stashed away surging back into view much to the surprise of both present. “Those people run the world Laios. Those people are who you’re going to have to work with for the rest of your life. And maybe I am not comfortable with how you seem to be showing me off, showing us off to them as some sort of power move.”

“How can you say that Marcille? That’s never been a reason for anything I do, especially when it comes to us!” he looked genuine, Marcille knew he felt like he was telling the truth. “You know I don’t care about any of that stuff, I care about you! Us! Our friends too!”

“Then why did you keep me around when I advised you, advising being my job mind you, to not bring me along to more emissary affairs while my name was still stained?” she questioned, Laios taking a step back.

“I-I just didn’t want you to be intimidated by some racist idiots’ opinion of you!” he exclaimed, and she could tell he was being honest.

“Maybe I could give you that first meeting. But Alandur’s emissary was literally half-elven and even he was uncomfortable with me staying.” she sighed, heating staring at her own visage in the running stream. “I know you better than anyone, Falin the only possible exception Laios. I’m not accusing you of anything I would of just a random noble or king. I know none of this is you vying for power. Far from it. You’re doing this because you love me, aren’t you?”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you!” Laios seemed happy for a moment, then crashing back down. “Why are you upset then?”

“Because that love is blinding you to how you’re affecting everything else around you!” she yelled, her anger finding no target, how could she direct it at someone who did it out of live? “I’m sure that those meetings just set back relationships between your kingdom and the others for months, if not years! You rebuffed Shimea before even hearing her offer!”

“She wanted me to have a child with someone else!” Laios shot back.

“As opposed to having a child with... who?” Marcille managed to say through gritted teeth. Laios looked horrified, and honestly, she was glad he did. This was a subject that horrified her as well, but maybe not for the same reasons it did for him. “Don’t get me wrong Laios. I’ve long grown comfortable with the idea that I am... well, not fully capable in every field. But this country’s line can’t be sustained by us shaking each other’s hands and agreeing we cannot have children. At some point you...”

“We can always adopt!” Laios desperately said, starting to wade through the edge of the river. “I’ve been thinking of taking in a half-elf orphan! I’m sure they exist. Then they could be there for you when I can’t... I didn’t bring it up because, well, we haven’t tried yet! Not every mule is infertile after all!” that glimmer of hope in his eyes made this all the more painful. Marcille had accepted the fact that she’d never have biological children decades ago, but to see him grasp at straws in real time, while also working to accommodate for her regardless, was both heart wrenchingly bitter and sweet.

“Laios... you know how these things go. They won’t accept a ‘bastard’,” She made sure to make air quotes on that. “For a true descendant. It has to have your blood.”

“M-Maybe Falin will have children!” Laios suggested, but both knew that that was a gamble no sane person would take. Falin would one, have to fall in love with a guy, two, actually want children, and three, they’d have to hope her strange body could even bear living children. Even the first step seemed dubious, let alone all three. “I should have accepted the Lion’s offer…” Marcille’s eyes snapped open at that, moving to meet Laios halfway and putting her hands on his shoulders.

“Laios. What did the Lion offer you that would help in this situation?!” she demanded to know. It was bad enough that he even considered taking an offer from the Demon, but she had to know just what carrot it had dangled in front of Laios.

“T-That he’d let you have children. W-With my body.” he whispered. She could not, nor would she, control her body. The King’s Court Magician smacked him across the face with enough force to throw him back first into the running water.

“You... You would have a fake version of you take me?!” she yelled, no longer worried, sad, or threading the line of anger. Now it was fury leading her words. “You’d have that thing take me?! Laios, I didn’t even know if I loved you at the time!”

“I know how it sounds like, but it was never stated that he had to, you know... do it the natural way.” Laios bumbled, and to an extent, she believed that if it came down to it, Laios would not let her be taken without her consent. But this went far deeper than that.

“And for what Laios? To solve a problem, you projected onto me?!” she kept screaming, throwing water onto his face with her freezing feet. “You considered selling your soul for something you didn’t even know I wanted?!”

“I know it was wrong, alright?! I didn’t take that deal for multiple reasons! One of them was the chance that I was forcing something on you that you! I regret even considering it... I’m just not strong enough, smart enough, I don’t understand the world enough to know when I’m being selfish or selfless!” Laios screamed back. That did a bit to stem the tide of fire that burned in her. This. She was guilty of the very same thing. But unlike Laios, she had snapped under the pressure. She had tried to force something not just on him, but the world! Suddenly the fire of rage had become the ice that came with the realization of her hypocrisy. “I understand if you can’t forgive me though...”

“This isn’t about my forgiveness Laios. You already have it. You’ll always have it. I cannot hate you. I cannot help but side with you. And I know this goes both ways. And that scares me.” Her reflection in the river was starting to look a very different kind of familiar.

“That’s... that’s what love is, isn’t it? I think so at least.” Laios mumbled, sitting back up and looking up, pleadingly. “You’re my land Marcille. Falin is the ocean, I know I can always come back to it, but you’re the only one I feel grounded with.” If her fires had not yet been quenched by herself, he would have done so now, and she truly wanted to take this as the chance to jump into his arms. But he was so far away. The distance between them just would not close. It was the size of country they stood in.

“For normal people yes, but I...” Pattadol’s words rung in her head.

This isn’t a fairy tale Marcille. People like us are little more than our roles. She didn’t believe them. She didn’t want to believe them. But she could not deny that there was some truth to them. Her conflict was...

“I don’t know where our roles end and we, as people, begin.”

Laios raised his hand and took her drooping left hand, assuring her, with all his heart that: “I don’t see it that way. Our roles are only a part of ourselves. They only begin where we decide it does. And for me, you-”

“No... Stop that Laios...” she pleaded, knowing exactly what he was going to say. “Why won’t you listen to me? You can’t keep putting my wants and needs over everyone that depends on you…” Laios was never like this. He had never ignored her before. Was she changing him? She couldn’t bear the thought.

“But I value you more than all those people!” Laios shouted back, his face twisting in a mix of guilt and determination. “I became King so that I could stop them from taking you away. Everything else were just consequences from that decision. I am doing my very best to be a good King, I feel indebted to this country, I am grateful to my subjects. But I only love you and Falin! You’re my only reasons in this world to wake up in the morning! I’d never sacrifice a single hair in your head for a piece of land!”

“How do you think that makes me feel? Happy? When the weight of everything that happens to them because of your bias falls on my shoulders?” Marcille cried, clutching her chest as her heart tries to wretch itself free of it. “When this all-consuming love I feel is the reason so many people will have to suffer? Don’t you see where this is leading us Laios? It’s this feeling that is making us become them!”

She didn’t want to believe her eyes as the water mirrored the images of a Witch looking down on a Tyrant instead of their two waterlogged bodies.

“We know what we cannot do... it’ll be alright...” Laios attempted to turn her own calming motions on her hand, but Marcille knew she could not fall for that sweet release. She slipped her hand free of the king’s grasp and continued:

“I know what I cannot do. I can’t keep you safe!” she looked at her hand, the phantom sensation of not reaching Laios, of having him ripped out of her grasp, still alive and well. “And when I fail to do so, I’m willing to do anything to fix my mistake…”

“Marcille that’s normal. You’re my Court Magician. You’re my-”

“Yes, exactly! I’m your Court Magician. I should be the one advising you against getting close to people like me. I should be the one smiling as a fruitful political marriage is offered to us, not gripping and claiming you as mine!” tears flowed from her eyes into the river, salting the sweet water below like the salt being poured onto their wounded hearts.

“Don’t cry... please. Nothing about this is worth it if you cry.” he had motioned around them, to Melini, the country. And a terrible strength of will was born within her. As the weight of thousands, maybe millions of lives weighed down on her, she forced herself to make a ghastly decision.

“Laios.” Her heart screamed her to stop. But at the same time was crushed by the weight of responsibility. “I will not be the one you’ll tear down this country for.”

She walked past him, chanting for a silencing spell. She would not hear his wails, she would not be convinced by his pleas. She had to be strong. For their country. No, this was never about such lofty ideals. She was doing it for him. For Falin. She would not abandon them, but she would not be someone they would hurt themselves, kill themselves, burn the world for.

As she emerged from the forest, still half-dressed, freezing clothes clinging to her figure, she easily ignored the confused look from Izutsumi, the disappointed gaze from Mithrun, the worried glance from Senshi, the knowing stare from Falin, but she had to force herself to let Asivia’s amused chuckle go.

For now.

Maybe she couldn’t have her Laios, but she still would make damn sure that snake wouldn’t slither onto his lap.

Chapter 18: Dream Apples and Roc Noodles

Chapter Text

-*-

It was warm. So very warm. The air was thick and juicy, like a warm pie, fresh off the stove. The girl’s hair fluttered in the summer’s freeze, her whole body sinking into a silky, but fluffy blanket and her head resting if a soft yet firm pillow.

It was familiar, so very familiar. At least that pillow of hers. It made all of her current and previous woes dissipate into its softness. She could lay here forever. She wanted to lay here forever. And that was the red flag she needed to open her eyes. She was greeted by the smile she so longed to see yet forced herself to part with. However, the smile that she thought to be unique to her beloved had been snatched by this dark tyrant that wore his skin.

“Mycille was right, you are a stubborn one, aren’t you?” the Demon King asked, quite chipperly may I add, confusing the heck out of Marcille. She expected the same booming, terrifying voice that he had so mightily boomed in the theatre, but right now, were it not for the bags on his eyes, the lightless skin and his dark armour... she could have sworn she was talking to Laios proper. It was enough to leave her speechless. “Oh, right, we never brought it up around you. So, when I was talking with your Laios, I called my Marcille, the one in the black dress, Mycille, to avoid confusion! Since, I know you two haven’t gotten married yet so...”

“...stop faking it.” Marcille grumbled, confusion turning to rage as this thing mimicked even the way Laios would gesticulate his hands wildly when explaining things, the way his eyes darted between her and the void behind her, even his tone pushing too hard into the chipper territory to make her feel more comfortable. “It’s already bad enough that you’re hearing his face!”

Marcille pushed herself away from this beast, falling back, deeper into that woolly white blanket. Or was it wool? It didn’t feel as warm, or as dense, no, these were... she looked back to find another set of amber eyes peering at her, these were feathers.

“Marcille, I understand your distrust and apprehension.” the chimeric form of Falin spoke, her voice devoid of the bestial qualities in her groans on the play as well. Just like this fake Laios, she acted exactly the same as the real deal, well, from the chest upwards. “But at least hear us out. We may not get another chance to talk alone, without our Marcille listening in...”

Marcille started looking around, giving the tiniest of credence to the desperation in this ‘Falin’s‘ voice. The breeze made a lot more sense when she saw that she, and ‘Laios’, were riding the Falingon across a vast sea of blue. It should not be able to fly with this body, Marcille wondered if this was dream logic or if this... no, why would she even care about that?! This is something they had to stop at all costs, it didn’t matter what kind of benefits would come from it, the cons were far too many.

“I doubt I’m leaving without doing so, so...” she hated the fact that she now had to deal with more than just her own doppelgänger invading her dreams, but it didn’t surprise her after that stunt they had pulled not two weeks prior. She might as well try and bleed these for information.

“No.” this ‘Laios’ stated, calmly, resolutely. So very similar. “We will not force anything out of you. That would make us no better than...” it was left unsaid, but it was clear who they meant.

Marcille knew this kind of dance and tricks. She had fallen prey to them before. But again, she found herself with no options, and again, she rolled the dice. Any information they could give her about her condition was worth it’s weigh in gold, and it did not matter to her if she would have to pay for the Touden’s freedom in fool’s gold.

“First, I have something I need you to make clear. Why are you pretending to act like the Toudens I know? I’ve seen through the mask already; this is just hurting your credibility.” Marcille demanded, still more than a bit annoyed. ‘Falin’ and ‘Laios’ looked at each other with a forlorn smile followed by a chuckle dripping with irony.

“It’s the opposite Marcille. We’re a lot more similar than you want to admit. We are not put on a mask to gain your sympathy, we put on a mask to scare all of you.” ‘Falin’ answered, adding. “Well, our Marcille did it first. She only let us into her idea for the play. You always do think far ahead of us.”

“That doesn’t make sense, why would she want to scare me? Why would you? Your tone in that play did never sit right with me. Why show us all of that after we proved the future could be changed?” she had many more doubts, but she felt like airing them would in of itself be playing into their hands. Give them more fires to stoke. Had this all been a grand act of reverse psychology? Had her reactions to her other self’s words been exactly what lead to this?

Too many questions. All to be ended in a single swoop.

“She wanted you to push back Marcille. Myci- Our Marcille does not want to win this race.” answered ‘Laios’, the pieces to it all starting to click on Marcille’s head.

If you truly are succeeding me, the real me, your so-called Demon and not this Lion’s skin... there can only be one.

“There can be only one...” Marcille mouthed, realizing what that meant. “Of the three of you-!”

“Only one will become one with one of you three.” ‘Falin’ confirmed, Marcille’s mind spiralling at the possibilities this opened. This must be why her other self did not try to save her from the assassination attempt, if she could see it coming. But why Laios’ other self-had tried to help Laios proper. But even so... if all three knew about this by now, even if one transformed, then...

“So, you’re saying that if any of us falls to this...” Marcille mumbled clutching at her head. Did she have this little faith in them, in herself, that at the sight of one of her family becoming these things, she’d just follow along. No. Maybe herself, but never the Toudens. “We would do that to each other?!”

Both Toudens broke away their gaze. Enough confirmation before either verbalized it.

“We swore to spare the other two the pain.” ‘Laios’ said, not flinching even as Marcille smacked his face, nails pointed inward to gash deep into his cheek.

“So, you propose to build this new world on stolen memories and bodies? Just pretend this an idea born of our own and not from some demons that came to haunt us from our past?” she was fuming, to her, the crime of losing her body to the other version of her had nothing on the idea that said version of her would pervert her family’s memories to make it seem like they all wanted that dark future they had seen.

“What else would you suggest?!” ‘Falin’ screeched, her voice more like a lizard’s than her own again. Her eyes bled tears, her fangs scrapped her own flesh. “Us humans cannot hope to interfere with the birth of a god. If me or my brother turned instead, would you want to live eternity knowing you failed one of us? To put that on my other self’s shoulders? Would you stare into your Falin’s eyes and tell her that it’s alright, this Laios is just like the other one, you’ll get used to him?!”

“No I-” Marcille’s gut reaction would be to... what? Fight Laios? Put him to rest? Was that not what Shuro tried to do? Not what they had refused to allow? Maybe she could force herself to try, after all they had gone through. Maybe she did have in it her to let go.

But would she even be able to? Worse, would these versions of them be willing to let their loved ones go? If Falin and Marcille took up arms against this Laios, what choices would he have? To swat them aside like the flies they were, so utterly lacking the capacity to fight someone of such ascended might without the help of the Deus Ex Monstruous that was the Ultimate Monster, and then... leave them to rest? And be alone for all eternity? No, she could not see any of them being able to resist the alure of companionship. Understanding. Love. They would have them. Be it by magic, by words or... by force.

And of those, words seemed unrealistic, and if it came to magic or force... she hated to, not agree, but understand.

“So, is that why you’re here? To sabotage her own self-sabotage?” Marcille questioned, as rhetorically as it may have been. “You think I’ll just, kiss and make up with her now?”

“No.” ‘Laios’ said with a decrepit sigh. And so he nodded at ‘Falin’, who landed. The ground was nowhere to be seen moments before, but yet now they had gathered on a bright forest’s clearing, at its centre towering a tree, from which a single golden apple had sprouted.

‘’Laios’ climbed off ‘Falin’ and raised his hand, a soft breeze carrying down the terribly beautiful fruit to his hand. With heavy steps, like a man walking to the gallows, he returned to ‘Falin’, who had taken to caressing Marcille’s shoulders, despite the girl’s attempts at pushing back on her affections. Though it need not be said, ‘Laios’ did so anyway.

“We are here to offer you the chance to willingly take their place.” ‘Laios’ told her, both his and ‘Falin’s’ bodies briefly flashing back to their real selves. He raised the wonderful curse in his hand in her direction. Marcille’s daze snapped at that moment.

“Are you really asking me to kill myself?!” she slapped the apple right off his hand. The moment she touched it felt like an eternity. A peaceful one.

“You do not know how to fulfil your duty to them.” ‘Falin’ whispered in her ear, her kind and gentle voice tinged with the nihilism of one who had accepted her lot. “Through this, Melini would never fall. Our bond would never break. Though you never admitted it to them yet, we know. That at this point in your life, you wish every day that you had altered your own lifespan that way. That you could live and die by the same laws as us.”

‘Laios’ picked up the golden apple yet again and raised it towards a Marcille that was not his own, but still offered her the choice:

“Let us die together Marcille. For the sake of the ones we love.”

Were she of clearer mind, she would just as quickly saw that apple away. But as she was now, she genuinely did wonder. She did not wish to die. Or so she thought at least. But far greater was the fear of the Toudens dying through her inaction. She questioned the validity of all the information she was given. The scholar in her scoffed at the “proof” of it all being simply the words of a demon and it’s would-be-children. As far as she knew, this could very well be a trap. Maybe this apple did not kill her, instead removing her for the equation. But would Laios really vie for power, regardless of how his life might have gone? She wanted to believe it to be impossible.

Still, to make a choice like this without their consent again. She should know better. She should! She could end this all, right here. The curse. The crushing weight of politics on Laios’ shoulders. Her own inadequacies. No, the truth was, she wanted to simply escape the hell she was born into to, and one of her own making. And it was all within her grasp.

Her legs screamed in lightning and flames when she found her hand reaching for the apple. As it’s fingers reached closer, they became claws, as it’s palm was within reach, it became covered in golden fur.

And not too long ago, she would have ignored the voices calling to her from the beyond. She would have pushed through the searing pain in her legs. She would have grabbed onto that oh-so-delicious apple and left the dungeon that was her life.

But not anymore.

“I’m sorry Laios. But-”

“Don’t, it’s who you are after all.” ‘Laios’ smiled back and Marcille fell backwards, the view of ‘Falin’s’ chimeric form smiling fading back into the real Falin, her Falin, her sister, crying out for her, pulling her into a hug as soon as her eyes opened.

She was surrounded by everyone, for good or ill, they cared too much about her to give her privacy after her fight with Laios. She couldn’t blame him for being there either. But her eyes drifted on to a different place. Her legs, the source of that searing pain, had ripped through her sleeping bag, and they were no longer her own. Instead of her feet, hooves, much like a goat’s, much like... she gazed at Mithrun. It made sense.

Her mind tuned out Falin’s questions about how she felt as she felt something call to her on by her side. There, by her pillow, just in arm’s reach, seemingly hidden from everyone but her was:

A single, golden apple.

-*-

They arrived at the village in the middle of the afternoon of that very same day. Laios was thankful that Asivia had read the room and simply left him to himself for the rest of the day.

First thing Laios noticed is that this barely could be considered a village, it was more like an encampment. The only structure besides tents was a crudely made wooden wall to keep predators away and other similar wooden protective structures. The only thing that would make one believe this was a more permanent residence was the crops being raised in the distance.

Laios tuned out the greetings, the accusations by Lord Marmori, hoping the others would handle it. He was too busy looking around small rural community. Being jealous of it. The orcs here all lived in the now. No worries about power struggles and duplicity. Their only worry was to survive. And Laios missed that. He missed being in a dungeon, fighting for his life, after all, one life weighed far less than a kingdom’s worth.

Before he knew it, the yelling of the Orc chieftain snapped him back to reality. They had been lead to a corral, where two rocs looked tied to a post. Laios thoughts so at least, in his eyes he only saw a rope tied to two floating nothings and a pair of saddles floating in midair.

“See? Our Rocs are barely big enuf for two to ride on ‘em. You think we got enough food to make them grow to boat size?!” Zon yelled at the chief mason Marmori’s face.

“They are vile things, aren’t they?” Asivia mummed next to him as they both stared at the invisible birds. Their plumage would only reveal their true colours in the nighttime’s shade, right now, they were barely more than a floating beat and eyes. Yesterday, Laios thought that to be the coolest thing. Today, he couldn’t help but...

“The worst.” he agreed with a whisper, not moving as Asivia leaned her head onto his chest. Marcille wanted him to accept these advances, didn’t she? Even if he felt like belching out his entire stomach’s contents. Probably having not heard his response, the orc Roc, the chieftain, smacked the his back hard and flashed him a smirk.

“Wanna ride one? You’ll be invisible from below!” Zon exclaimed, definitely proud of his mount.

No one, not even Laios, could believe what he himself answered.

“Sorry, but I’m not that interested.”

He could tell the complete shift in the atmosphere around him as soon as he said that. Everyone except Asivia and her father looked, stared, at him intently as he did so. Everyone but Marcille. She hadn’t even so much as glanced at him ever since...

“I know ye think monsters cannut be trusted Laios, but orcs have been domesticating Rocs for centuries. Ye can trust’em.” Senshi, always the more composed one, suggested, even though his eyes knew this would fall on deaf ears.

“It’s not that Senshi. My body is just not used to traveling anymore. And I have to prepare for tomorrow’s negotiations. Now that your suspicions got cleared Lord Marmori, do you accept meeting with Zon tomorrow?” Laios questioned, to which the man nodded, lacking any manner of evading it any longer. “Very well, I thank you for your patience Roc Zon. I’ll be in my tent, pouring through paperwork if you need me.”

The King then left his subjects behind, ignoring all the hub-hub behind him. He only addressed Falin as he passed by her.

At least one of them was able to be themselves...

-*-

True to her word, when Laios’ stomach rumbled, Falin was nowhere to be seen.

He couldn’t will himself to leave the room regardless. He would probably be caught by someone and he was not in a state that he could guarantee he’d reply with civility, and who knows what kind of domino chain that would start.

The fact that he felt guilty for it just made it worse. He wasn’t even free to be in a bad mood, anything he said, any emotion he showed, any action he took, regardless of his intentions, could and would affect so many people. Even what he didn’t say, what he wouldn’t do, was dangerous.

How could anyone live like this? How could he? Was this really worth it? Was him staying on the throne even a net positive? Would it not be better to just... take Falin and Marcille and run? Run to the northernmost mountains, where those savages lived. No one would dare think they’d escape there! They could make their own little home in a forest and just quarter those beasts every time they dared hunt them down.

The idea could use some work, but there was merit to it! There had to be. Otherwise... why had he chosen to return from being the Ultimate Monster? Marcille would save Falin, he just knew it. But then...

She’d willingly go back West... at best she’d be forced into being a Canary, at worst...

He stopped regretting his decision. Though he could no longer have her, he could partake in her smile from time to time, and seeing her happy would be enough. It had to be.

A rustling on the entrance to his tent interrupted his thoughts. He ran to the door, so sure it was Falin, a miniscule hope of seeing a pair of long rounded ears even harbored deep within.

He did not expect the ever-tired looking single-eyed gaze of Mithrun staring back at him with a plate of noodles in his hands.

“Gonna let me in, or do I need to teleport in?” he prodded but Laios was just so confused at this entire situation. The bandana on his head. The weird looking noodles on this self-serious elf’s hands. “I know my noodles look great, but staring is not the proper way to thank the chef.”

“Come in! I guess...” by the time Laios’ thoughts caught up to him, it was too late to deny the man entrance. It was obvious that whatever Mithrun wanted with him was something Laios wanted no part of right now.

But he was curious about the noodles...

“I brought chopsticks.” Mithrun quietly added, just a hint of nervousness on his voice. Parting the junk on Laios’ small bed stand he placed the bowl, the chopsticks and even a towel and two glasses of water next to the bowl. Laios was just staring, back to being flabbergasted at this wildly erratic behaviour. “Stop dawdling and eat! I don’t want your judgement if you wait until it’s freezing!”

Laios clumsily sat on his bed and stared at his dinner. Chicken Noodles. Simple. Quick. To the point. Or at least, it looked like chicken. Given the amount of Roc meat they had brought along... yeah, that was probably not chicken. This gave Laios just enough oomph to stop questioning the whole situation, and how strange the noodles looked, and dig in.

It was... okay. The Roc meat was absolutely the star of the dish. It had a very unique, stringy texture, but it was oozing with a strangely spicy flavour, having a delayed kick to hit similar to peppers. Laios made sure to always wrap it in noodles to take away how... mediocre they were. They were too thick. Too flour-y. And they definitely had not been left to stew nearly long enough, they were chewy and, the more Laios bit into them, the more they stuck to his teeth. There was definitely not enough variety to the ingredients too, just noodles, chicken and some seeds. They didn’t taste bad, Laios had eaten far worse than this for the majority of his life, but it was... definitely a downgrade to Senshi’s food. And it was not even comparable to Marcille’s.

Was she really that good a cook or...?

“So? How is it?” there it was again. That uncertain shade in Mithrun’s normally placid tone. Did he make these himself? Laios had some vague recollection about Mithrun talking about noodles. If so... he wanted Laios’ judgement on them? He felt weirdly honoured. If it were anyone else, or if Laios were in another state of mind, he’d pull back his punches. But not today. Not to someone who could easily see through him. “Figures. This is a lot harder than I expected. Cooking, that is. At least you didn’t throw up like Kabru did...”

Oh, that’s what made him insecure. Laios stared at the dish and sighed.

“If you never cooked before the dungeon, this is a good attempt.” he managed to get out. Despite feeling like sh*t, he did not feel the need to make others share in his pain. “If you’re already doing decent in a just a few months, give it a year and you’ll be a certified chef. Have you considered asking Senshi for pointers? I heard that... Marcille did it...”

Now he felt even worse. That’s what he gets for trying to be helpful.

“I didn’t want to impose but if Senshi’s companion says it’s alright, I’ll see if I can broach him once I’m off the clock.” Mithrun replied, looking like he had a weight lifted off his shoulders.

“Senshi’s companion, huh? Not your King?” Laios scoffed, rolling his eyes at the obvious attempt at tempering words. Mithrun pulled up the one chair in the room and sat on it, crossing his arms and having the grave look almost synonymous with his face return.

“I don’t see you as just that Laios. And you know no one in the council does either.” he assured, cold comfort given how they were a handful of people to thousands, milions maybe later on. “But if you want to cut to the chase, I will too. Whatever you are planning to do, don’t.” he stared right past Laios’ eyes and directly into his soul with that one. “I can see someone getting ready to do the worst mistake of their lives from a mile away. Hells, I saw your woman do it right in front of my eyes.”

“What if I already did? What if you already failed to stop me from signing my life away like with Marcille?” There was venom dripping through Laios’ voice, he was pretty it wasn’t for his sake though, Mithrun had no way to know he would go for the claim that fast. Just, if this guy had done his job. If he had stripped Marcille of that book then maybe she wouldn’t be so damn sad all the time! Maybe she wouldn’t turning into a monster! Being hunted down like an animal!

“I doubt it. Even if becoming King makes your life a living hell, something tells me you’d do it all over again for them.” Laios nearly fell off the bed with the force that Mithrun’s statement hit him with. The fact that he had read both what had him down and his exact thought process about it. “Am I wrong?”

“No. No it’s just... I thought I was done with going through hell and back for others...” Laios confessed, sweaty palms covering his shame. What kind of man said something like that?

“Ever heard of a hypothetical? Things aren’t nearly as bleak as you short-livers see them as constantly.” Mithrun replied with exasperation, like he was talking to a bratty child. He was probably older than Laios recorded family line, so Laios didn’t have much of a feet to stand on. “Live long enough and you’ll see that with every misfortune there’s a nugget of fortuity to he grasped at. I don’t know what happened with your woman, so, get me up to date. I’ve had my fair amount of lover’s quarrels.”

Laios did not doubt that last bit. So he told him everything. Mithrun groaned, mumbling something about how even love could be too much of a good thing.

“Alright, I got the jist of it. I guess I would be cursing my position if I were you.” Mithrun conceded, but, before Laios could add even more frustrations to the place, he flipped said plate. “Still, this isn’t like you Laios. You’re usually a glass half-full kind of guy.” Laios sat back and raised an eyebrow, confused. “You put emphasis on what was good about my Roc meat and left the problems with the noodles to a footnote. Yet here you are, focusing on your burnt noodles when you have a perfectly succulent-”

“Don’t call Marcille succulent!” Laios interrupted, this was something only he could do!

“You said it, not me.” Mithrun replied with a self-confident smirk. “Point stands though. You keep waffling on what can go wrong, but you never stop and think about what can go right. Are you really the same guy who went with that dumbass plan to safe his sister from a dragon’s stomach? Or that executed a strategy so absurdly stupid it tricked a demon?”

“If you’re trying to make me feel any better, you’re terrible at it.” Laios said with an eye roll, which was mirrored by Mithrun.

“Will you let me finish? I was trying to explain that most kings fall into one of two kinds. The self-absorbed ones and the self-sacrificing ones. And they are both ass.” The far older man told Laios, who was more than a bit taken aback.

“What do you mean? I get the self-absorbed ones but the other kind would be ideal for the country… right?” He questioned, hoping to be… what did he hope again?

“It sounds nice, I get it. To have someone essentially become a tool for the betterment of your country. But a king without attachments is cold. Calculating. Some would even say inhuman.” He told Laios while looking west. “They say Shimea only loved once, and never again. And you saw what kind of ruler she became.”

“She conquered half the world for your people. If you ask me, it’s hard to imagine a better one.” Laios answered, Mithrun laughing hoarsely.

“Is that what you see? Why, I see a country that became an empire a millennium too soon, stretched to its limit, it’s back riddled with targets and its borders only held together by the efforts of a woman who’ll be departing within a short-lived race’s lifetime. Tell me Laios, what use is a candle that burns twice as bright if its flames burn down your home?” Mithrun asked, leaning back on the chair. “If nothing changes my former nation will beat me to the grave. And why? Because no matter how much she is loath to admit it, Shimea is still human. Royalty, nobility, peasants, they are all equally human. Equally flawed. Equally prone to desire.”

Desire. There was that word again. Both what made humans human, and what brought about their greatest predator.

“So, you’re saying that even rulers who try to sacrifice themselves for their country will end up imposing their desires on it?” Laios asked, Mithrun smirking.

“You’re quick on the uptake as always. Yes. That’s the truth that I ruminated on in my days as a cripple. All that bullsh*t about nobility is worth nothing, my perceived values were so easily twisted into something monstruous. And it’s not just me, Thistle’s pure wish for a world where his loved ones would never die became a tortuous prison for those same people. Humans, alone, will always become their own worst enemy. Just look at yours truly. I became that twice over. It took Kabru to make me realize that... and even then I failed to save Marcille from doing the same thing.” and Marcille had been right. Regret was really the only emotion that Mithrun looked to manifest in full. Both his words and his face became strangely expressive when it came to that emotion. “And that’s why I cannot sit here and let you two, of all people, do this to each other.”

“You say that, but what Marcille said is right. For her I’d... I’d do...” he couldn’t say it, because it was something as simple yet as vast as “everything”. No matter the cost, no matter the consequences.

“Everyone has those moments of weakness Laios. That’s why we need others to keep us in check. People who we actually listen to. People we care about. It just took me way too long to figure this out. People that forsake that become less than human, not more.” the elf stood back up, stretching his still atrophied limbs as Laios became less and less sure of what path he needed to take. “And besides, every human deserves a bit of selfishness, wouldn’t you agree?”

Come on, it’s okay to be a little selfish, isn’t it? Laios couldn’t help but laugh as his own words came back to slap him in the face. “I guess you’re right. I wouldn’t have made it where I am without others and if I was completely selfless.”

“Good. Now, pass me your fairy, I have to go check if your... whatever you two decide to be has been kidnapped yet.” Mithrun asked, and Laios was happy he was still given that leeway. He wanted Marcille back. But he understood that they had problems they would have to solve if they could truly have one another. He just was willing to try now. So he gave Mithrun his fairy and sent him on his way. “Thanks for the review though. I appreciate it.” the elf told him, closing the door.

With that, Laios turned to go and note all the problems Marcille had with him to try and figure out a solution. Only for another rustle to bring him back to the entrance. Opening the tent, the sight of Asivia in a practically see-through nightgown greeted him. She twirled her hair in a very convincing display of shyness and just... waited.

If she had come earlier tonight, before Mithrun talked to the King, he may have let her take him. For the sake of the kingdom, he would tell himself. It would be what Marcille wanted, he would swear. But that would have been the King of Melini speaking, and unfortunately for Asivia, the man, Laios Touden, had refused to be just that.

He admitted to finding it more than a bit satisfying to watch her face go from sultry, to confused, to absolutely flabbergasted, and finally horrified when he closed his tent in her face.

He had better things to do than her.

-*-

The court magician sat atop a small rock formation under the stars on a hill overlooking the small township. Though her lower half had been the one to suffer the changes wroth by the curse, it was her right hand that she could not take her eyes of. It had not changed at all, but still, she looked at it, thinking it to be the most monstruous part of herself.

It was this hand that had slapped Laios the day before, when all he wanted was to hold her, to make her feel safe. And it was this hand that had reached for a coward’s way out. And that golden apple, always there, in the corner of her vision, always in reach of that very same hand, would not let her forget that.

She could hear the rustle of the tall grass making way into a pair of footsteps. She reached for Ambrosia. They did plan for her to get kidnapped, but if it was just the one attacker, then she could skip that process and just immobilize them.

Unfortunately for her, the first feature that she saw sneaking out of hillside was a pair of disparately coloured cat ears, which gave way to a very annoyed looking Izutsumi.

“Tsumi, you shouldn’t be here. They’re less likely to take the bait if I have a bodyguard.” Marcille admonished, strangely ticked off by the, supremely common, occurrence of Izutsumi not listening to her. Maybe it just added up to all of the deficiencies she thought herself having.

“Well, you sure didn’t let me talk to you any time before this, so you’re just reaping what you sowed.” Izutsumi answered with the same amount of annoyance. The two girls, practically family by now, stared each other down for a few moments. “What the hell happened to you?!” Izutsumi growled, the question catching Marcille a bit off-guard.

“The hooves? Right, I had told you I was turning into the lion.” Marcille replied after checking herself. It made sense that the others wouldn’t have figured it out yet. “You see, what I’m afraid off is turning into the Demon itself, and since I know from Mithrun that it also took the form of a goat, I think this may have coloured my view of it and-”

“You’re either playing dumb or I feel insulted that you think I’d care about you having hooves instead of cat claws.” Izutsumi countered, walking up to her and nearly stabbing through her chest with her index finger’s claw. “Talking about what’s having you and and your mate avoiding each other like the plague.”

“Oh... that...” Marcille broke away eye contact. “We just woke up from that dream...”

“My patience for your jargon is at an all-time low Marcille. What. The Hells. Happened?!” her guardian grabbed her ward’s vest and forced her to stare back at those slit yellow eyes, glowing in the dark, insulted, confused, and just a tiny bit scared.

“I... realized a person like me is unfit for the throne.” Marcille confessed, in moments receiving a:

“You think Laios cares about that?!”

“That’s the problem!” Marcille screamed back, her attempt at stemming the tide that came with those memories finally breaking. “He doesn’t care, but everyone else does. I’m nothing but a handicap! I didn’t study to be a Court Magician, so I’m hopelessly behind on it. I know nothing of politics, so things would only get worse if I sit on that throne. And he doesn’t care!”

“What happened to that unsufferable woman that bragged about learning dungeon delving spells in a day after receiving Fa’s letter?” Izutsumi sneered, Marcille biting her lip. Why was she so sharp witted at the worst times. “You and I both know that give you a good year or two and you’d be a better politician than most of those lards born into it.”

“Maybe I am capable...” Marcille admitted. It wasn’t bias or hubris that made these two agree, it was just a fact. Marcille was, indeed, a genius. She was, indeed, more than capable to catch up to at least a the average standard for her position. “But you know what I also am? A monster!” she ripped off her headband and pulled up her skirt while opening her mouth, her fangs, two pairs of ears and hooved goat legs all on full display.

“Oh noooooooo, a monster! It’s almost as if your mate would see that as nothing but a positive!” Izutsumi snapped back, rolling her eyes. “Kinda screwed up if you ask me but...”

“This isn’t about what Laios thinks!” Marcille screamed. “It’s about what I’ll do to him! I can’t give him an heir. I keep costing him opportunities to be the king he needs to be. I am a known criminal. These are all things that I can’t change about myself. No one can. A monster of a mule, hated by the world, has no place as queen!”

Izutsumi dropped her, satisfied for some reason. Speaking this had brought Marcille just the tiniest bit of relief for some reason too. Maybe it was knowing what she was running from.

The girl cat’s eyes softened into large round black shapes and she looked up at the moon.

“I know that feeling. Neither of us, heck, no one can change who they are on the outside. Or what they did in the past.” Izutsumi stared back at her claws, sniffing them as if to look for the smell of dried blood they once had. “You learned that you can’t change the world to make that bearable but seems like you didn’t learn the way more obvious lesson. So listen up, just for today, I’m gonna be the one teaching you stuff!” Izutsumi’s tail wagged, and she crossed her arms proudly. It was clear that, no matter the context, she was glad to finally have something on Marcille. “You also can’t let that condition boss you around.”

Marcille tilted her head.

“C’mon, you’re never this dumb! I’m still a giant cat, remember? But I wasn’t really living life when all I had on my mind was how to turn into what I thought I wanted to be. Even if it was possible, would it really be worth wasting my life chasing that impossible goal?” she questioned. While Marcille almost wanted to say yes, she realized that for a tall-man like Izu, the decades that may take may actually be her entire life. “You hate what you did? Work your ass off to fix it. You‘re afraid of how you look? Ask if anyone else feels that way too, and if no one worth a damn does, then what does it matter?! Just because your life won’t ever be perfect that doesn’t give you the right to throw away everyone else’s efforts to help you. Life’s a bitch, but cats like us love to throw hands with it, don’t we?!”

Marcille was speechless. Such a stupid comparison. Such basic thoughts and ideas. Reasoning as thin as a hair.

What blade would cut deeper than something sharpened to that extent?

“You’re... you’re happy with how you are now?” Marcille asked. It may have sounded like a completely irrelevant question to someone else, but the smirk on Izutsumi’s face revealed that she knew it was anything but that.

“Been having a blast. Shoulders been pretty light over the past few months, which is saying a lot given what’s been happening.” the catgirl replied, sitting next to Marcille and even putting her arm around her shoulders. “I screwed up more than once, but you’re still here, right? And isn’t that what matters?” she flicked Marcille’s reddening nose and ended with: “Less worrywarting about what you can’t fix, more putting that big dumb brain of yours to work on how to make it work anyways.”

Marcille burried herself in Izutsumi’s fur and, for the rest of the night, no matter how damp or uncomfortable it became, she never pulled herself out.

Maybe there was more to her than a wrench in Melini’s cogs.

-*-

“I should have never had you brought you back into the fold!” the voice of the elder Marmori exclaimed, and suddenly, Marcille was a whole lot more interested.

“Really?! Just like that?! I’ve been here for three days; these things take time!” Asivia shouted back, her snarling face not matching her drapes at all.

“I took you back in because you told me you had been close to bedding him before!” the older tall-man exclaimed, Marcille nearly gagging at the idea, while at the same time wanting to laugh. That had absolutely not been the picture Falin had painted of Laios, he hadn’t even been aware she was hitting on him before!

“If this guy was such an easy conquest, then the half-elf would already be married to him. Don’t worry, I’ll wrangle an heir out of him by the end of the year.” it took all of Marcille’s self-restraint to hold herself back when Asivia told her father that. Of course this was the plan all along.

“If I don’t see any progress by the end of this trip, I’m done putting my reputation of the line for something like you.” the elder told his scion, turning his back on her and leaving before any more words could be exchanged.

Something? Wondered Marcille from behind the tent’s cloth.

“Quite the show, isn’t that right, Cielly?” Asivia’s eyes suddenly locked into hers. Though Marcille reflexively jumped back into cover, she walked out right after, knowing she had been caught.

“You knew I was there? Then why did you keep talking?” Marcille asked, forcing herself to look at that snake in the eyes, because any lower and there would be very little left to her imagination and she really didn’t want that kind of imagery haunting her.

“Because that way...” Asivia leaned forward, looking up at Marcille with strangely vulnerable looking eyes. Now that Marcille was closer to her... had she always been this small? She was barely Marcille’s height now, despite being about as tall as Falin when they were traveling. Those kinds of thoughts vanished when Asivia perched her head on Marcille’s shoulder, whispering in her ear: “You’ll believe when I say I want the best for both of us.”

“You expect me to believe that?! You just confessed to wanting to bed Laios!”

“I’m just providing a service you cannot. You’re free to keep that crown beautiful,” she replied, stealing a kiss on Marcille’s ear. The court magician reflexively, but intently, slapped that hussy across her jaw hard enough to send her staggering back a few steps. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been enough to get that self-assured expression off her face. “Afterall...” Asivia lined her thumb over her now bleeding upper lip, healing the cut after she drew blood with it. “People like us have to watch out for each other, don’t we?” she told Marcille before suckling on her thumb.

“What do you mean by that?” Marcille questioned, but the woman had already turned around and began strutting away. “What do you mean by that Asivia!” Marcille screamed out, but that snake was gone already.

Marcille growled and turned back and headed to her tent. Despite all that she had just heard, the thing that she truly couldn’t figure out were not the schemes, but that strangely vulnerable look she had received. Was Asivia just that good, or was there something more going on?

“Whatever it is, I won’t let you dump your baggage on Laios...”

-*-

She has spent most of the next day sleeping, given that she had effectively spent the entire night awake, which was just as well as the only thing she wanted to be awake for was the negotiations between the tribe and the masons. Which, in traditional orc fashion, were done by the men over dinner.

She didn’t mind the dinner part, but the fact that the only thing she could do was sit in the nearest table to Zon’s and do her best to listen in didn’t make her feel any more useful than she had before.

It also didn’t help that Falin had weirdly refused her request to eat together with her, instead perching herself on the opposite end of the communal dinner tent, stealing gazes at both her brother and Marcille from time to time. And with Izutsumi guarding the outside, well… Marcille was all alone for the occasion.

“Guess I should get used to this… it’s a hell of my own making after all.” Marcille sighed, not even feeling the taste of the soup Senshi must have put so much effort on. She had grown so used to company during dinner, that without the merriment that came with sharing the meal with her friends and former, family, it just tasted like cardboard.

“Man, you’re just as much of a downer as last we met, huh?” A familiar white haired orc woman said, not even asking if she could have the only other chair on Marcille’s table.

“Hey Leed. And you know what they say about elves, we change once every century…” she replied with a weak chuckle. Zon’s sister rolled her eyes.

“Normal knife ears don’t befriend my brother. Speaking of that, what are you doing here, and not over there?” she pointed her thumb to Laios’ table, where civility was starting to break down.

“It’s against your tradition for-”

“Now that’s a riot, as if any of you ever cared for tradition.” Leed rolled her eyes, blatantly stealing from Marcille’s soup.

“Maybe we should. Maybe it’s tradition for a reason.” Marcille sighed, still unable to forget how breaking taboo was not all that was cracked up to be.

“Oh, that’s nice to hear, guess we should start raiding again, since, ya know, tradition.” Leed growled, dropping the hot soup on Marcille’s resting hand when the girl had broken eye contact. She squeaked and looked back at the younger orc. “I got an idea of what’s going on from Izu and I’m here beat the same amount of sense to you as I did to that tiny manchild way back in the dungeon. You guys got this far by doing what would be fanciful thoughts for most other people. You got something you want to try, try it. It’s nice and good to be prudent, but we orcs only respect people of action. I better not see you two dragging your feet now, got it?”

The yelling in the meeting table was starting to become deafening. “Leed, I just... I just don’t know if I can help him. What if I make everything worse?”

“Well, you sure aren’t helping him sitting around here, moping. There’s being cautious, and there’s being a coward. What will it be, Marcille?” Marcille froze at the word coward.

Cowards like us...

A smile formed on her face. So that had been their game. The Court Magician to Laios Touden stood back up and grabbed onto her staff once more.

“Good choice.” Leed told her, sipping on Marcille’s drink. “Once you get your mate back, I got a proposition for you to. Go get them floppy ears.”

“Stop teasing my... fine, thanks Leed. I’ll be going now.”

-*-

“You expect us to use your money before we are given a chance by your people?! What, you want us to actually start raiding caravans for the gold?!” Zon roared at Marmori, slamming his fist on the table, their mug rolling to the ground. “It’s funny, you people love to tell us that we gotta adapt to your way of doing things, but I don’t see you adapting to how we do it. You do something for us, we pay you once it’s done.”

“Don’t blame me for your generations of savagery! My guild isn’t a charity, and even if it were, do you honestly think we have the materials to raise an entire village pro bono?” Marmori replied dismissively. Laios felt like these negotiations were doomed from the start.

“I wonder if you’d be singing a different tune if you were eye to eye with my spear-” the orc threatened, arms readying themselves to stand up.

“That’s enough!” Laios commanded moments before actions that crossed the event horizon of civility were taken. He was surprised when Zon so quickly acquiesced, but as the entire room’s eyes turned to him, he realized that his hopes of finding a solution had been dashed. “We will not resort to violence in Melini Zon, unless it’s for self-defence.”

“And this isn’t it? Winter’s next month Laios, and we’re livin’ in tents! If this idiot had begun building a couple months back we’d have at least some houses to pass the winter on!” the Roc of the tribe exclaimed, and Laios couldn’t help but agree. Lives could very well be lost because of a dispute over some metal coins. Why couldn’t this man see that?!

“Don’t blame us, it was the king you are so loyal to that wasn’t even able to provide an appropriate plan for our work in the capital until recently, and he's been informed of your plight for over a month now. If you cannot even sustain yourself, can you really expect His Majesty to value you?"

“Don’t assume Laios thinks the same way you people do.” Marcille’s voice broke out from behind his chair. It was commanding, self-assured and more importantly, there none of the venom present in her address towards the head mason was present in his name. Laios turned around to see her, and her green eyes met his for a few moments, and there was reassurance in them. She had his back. “Goodness sakes, I know men love to have eat the whole cake, but like it or not, we have to share. Zon. Your people are familiar with the concept of a loan, right? I unfortunately have to ask after what you did with us when we first met.”

“We are. It’s just against our culture to be indebted to other races…” he admitted, massaging his thick brows with those trunks of a finger. “But I’d be a hypocrite if I held on to that after what I said.”

“See, now we’re getting somewhere.” Marcille said with a nod, and Laios couldn’t help but relax a bit.

“Are we? Sounds like you’re just playing favourites. Your Majesty, I highly advise you not to allow loans that cannot be repaid. Afterall, if you do it the one time, how long until someone else takes advantage of you?” Lord Marmori retorted, but it was too late. The gears on Laios’ head had been oiled up by his court magician.

“But what if they can? Zon, you’ve been here for a month, correct? But when we arrived at the village, I saw your people already harvesting crops. That’s incredibly fast considering these were virgin fields and we’re out of season. Am I wrong in assuming orcs are much better at agriculture than us humans?” Laios asked, seeing in this a chance for more than even just peacefully ending this discussion.

“Can’t say it’s a race thing, else my forefathers wouldn’t resort to raiding. We lived in the dungeon for decades, maybe centuries though, so we learned some tricks to get the soil to cooperate. Don’t expect me to share them in public.” Zon replied.

That’s good. Great. Amazing. This is something only these guys know how to do. If we can produce wheat and other foodstuffs all year ‘round we may not need to import, heck, if Zon shares his secrets with them they could even have a realistic export in their hands! What country doesn’t need food after all?

“Alright, you can pay us in produce over the next year. I trust we won’t have to police you for it?” Laios questioned, the younger orc huffing in distaste.

“Our word is our most sacred possession. Especially for those that would out a roof over our heads. We will redouble, triple even, our fields if we have to!” he exclaimed as he demanded more drinks.

“That’s a nice sentiment, but was part of the reason you had to bring me along not the fact that the Golden Kingdom cannot afford to bankroll the construction entire village off their own pockets right now?” Marmori pointed out, and that was true but...

“Since we’re meeting the orcs halfway, we’re hoping you would too. How about we bankroll the materials you require and hand you the rest of the full sum when the job’s done?” Laios offered, remembering some of the techniques the merchants in the caravan he travelled with would use. By splitting up when they would receive their earnings they would have an excuse to maintain a trading relationship with the client, and they also would protect themselves from one taking the full amount and running.

“Again, if I play favourites, I am setting a dangerous precedent. If I make this one exception, more people will come to expect that of me.” Marmori replied, grinding Laios’ victory fanfare to a halt. He was right though. Much like Namari in the dungeon, maybe it was too much to ask. “Now, obviously one would make an exception for family...”

“Exactly!” Marcille replied, sinking Laios’ heart even deeper into despair. Had she really already let go? He turned to her to beg her to stop, but instead of a resigned slump, instead of sadness, instead of even apathy, he saw in her... a mischievous smirk?

He knew to trust her when she was like this.

“Family is a powerful thing, Lord Marmori. And as you know, my mother was the Court Magician to three generations of a royal tall-man line. That gives you a lot of connections. One of them being... the Northern Stonemasonry Association. Namely, she’s friends with a couple of headmasters. I’m sure they would be more than willing to ear out a proposition for a long-term relationship with a fledgeling kingdom under the watch of one of their friend’s scions.” Marcille explained, leaning on Laios shoulders and giving her best and most flamboyant imitation of despair. “I know what you must be thinking Laios. Marcille, how can you be so cruel, to suggest betraying the ones that were there or us from the start! But you must be strong Your Majesty! If the hand is gangrenous, and it refuses to heal, you must slice it off. Do not worry, the Donatos will grant you a much better replacement!”

As theatrical as she was being, Laios’ eyes were on a specific part of her. Her ears. They twitched with every sentence she proposed. She was lying through her teeth. It somehow made him even more excited.

Not even negotiations are boring with her around, huh? Laios thought to himself, turning to see a reeling Marmori. He was all-in.

“And here I was hoping to invite Lord Marmori to the coronation... but I understand if he must value his Guild’s longevity and reputation over a weak kingdom such as ours... let’s be quick about it Marcille. Summon your fairy so we can bring Madeline to the discu-”

“We’ll do it!” Asivia’s father cried out, fist damn near caving into itself. The short tall-man was fuming, even Laios could tell that. But Marcille, no, they had cornered him. And what a reward it was that when he turned back to Marcille, he saw the same angelic smile that had frozen him in his tracks when they had first met.

And it froze him right back this time around as well. Much to the chagrin of the head mason.

-*-

The details of the debt and such took a bit longer to iron out, but it was smooth sailing after that bluff. Marcille couldn’t believe it worked. That she had made it work. Laios jumping in was more than expected, but a part of her was still glad that he still had that kind of trust in her.

With negotiations done however, came Zon’s declaration of a night of partying, along with the orc’s customary toast to signal the bond of trust between the parties. And given these were orcs, this would likely not be the last of the alcohol, which already felt like way too much for the half-elf’s senses. So, she snuck away before refills came.

She thought she already was drunk when she nearly tripped and fell over moments after leaving the table, but thankfully she had just bumped into Senshi.

“Sorry Sen-” the girl’s hand was quickly pulled down, the dwarf taking that chance to pat her softly on the head.

“Ye did good lass. Both of ye did.” he assured, a smile drawn on his eyes. Marcille had to hold back tears, even to such a small compliment. She had helped Laios. She could help Laios. Even if just for today, she wasn’t a burden. It didn’t matter if she was halfway into becoming a monster, there were still people that saw her for who she was... “Now, how about ye hear the lad out? Yer not as good at sneaking as ye think you are.”

Her blood ran cold, turning around to see a very hesitant Laios hovering his hand just over her shoulder. She couldn’t help but chuckle at the awkwardness of this King of Men. They stood there for a good minute, orcs leaving their tables to embark on dances of revelry, the inside of the tent seeming to light up with their shared glances.

“Marcille I... I wanted to talk.” he finally worked up the guts to ask. “If you’re not mad, I mean! I can wait, but like, I think this is important! For the kingdom!” Marcille glared at him, waiting for him to be honest. “You got me. It’s about me and you. Us maybe?”

Marcille could see Asivia approaching from the side, doubtlessly preparing to use the dance as a pretext to get between them. If she wanted to keep avoiding Laios, it would be as easy as stalling for a few more seconds. Yet...

“How about we talk... over a dance?” her mind screamed at her as she raised her hand in waiting, but her heart had finally wrested back control after forty-eight hours of imprisonment. Was it so wrong to be curious about what he wanted from her?

As if she didn’t know already.

“I... well, alright. But just so you know, I’m not good at courtly dances yet!” replied her Laios, taking her hand and leading her to where the crowd had designated as the dance floor.

For the first time in the last few days, Marcille spied Falin smiling from the corner of her eye. For the first time in the last two days, she forgot about her worries. For the first time since yesterday, she allowed herself to truly believe Izu’s words.

Then the sight of a bird smashing into the ground in front of her brought her back to the world she lived in.

It was a canary. A dead canary. It had just torn through the tent and smashed itself right in front of them. Marcille was paralyzed, but Laios immediately switched gears, kneeling next to the gruesome remains and pulling on a small scroll which it had been carrying. He opened it and his eyes fought to leave their sockets. With shaky breath, he told the people now gathering around him:

“They got Mithrun.”