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Act I: "Written in the Stars"
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Chapter I: The Castle Where the Sun Never Rises
In the dawn of times, the Kingdom of Dejimon was a land of magic and spring. With valleys and forests that stretched over as far as the eye can see, it was a land virgin to the human touch, a land where magic coursed through its core like veins. The kingdom began with a road that was said to start where the sun rose and end at the end of the world, where snowy valleys spanned and tipped until the mountains and the sky touched. The road was named after the benevolent Lord and Lady Belisse, for it was they who united the land from south to north millennia ago, with the combined help of giants and humans and even the magical Dejimon. The making of Belisse Road marked the time when humans and magical beings worked together to unify a kingdom.
After the land was united from tip to tip, small homesteads and villages began growing along this prosperous road. Merchants in wagons filled with technologies and novelty craftsmanship began travelling from the Royal City of Nova Cursa down south to the uninhabited wilding lands, where the forests and marshes were filled with ancient lore of magical Dejimon as beautiful as the golden elves and as fearsome as the three-eyed giants. Families began pouring from the north where the first civilized folk settled, down to the mystical south; it was a chance of fortune, to claim acres upon acres of virgin, magical land to their names. Soon homesteads and farms turned to bustling villages and villages evolved into prosperous cities—thus marking the beginning of the great Kingdom of Dejimon.
It is in one of those villages, in the comely Piyo Village, the ancient home of the bird Dejimon, that our story begins.
Many years ago, humans settled their farms and homesteads in the spring lands the bird Dejimon called home. Thatched roof houses began emerging, one by one, along the bird Dejimon's straw huts. This marked the beginning of a mutually beneficial relationship between the humans and the Dejimon; the humans drew magic and knowledge from the bird Dejimon while the Dejimon assimilated their lifestyles to that of the civilized human way. Propped in the center of a rich land known for its short winters and bountiful harvests, Piyo Village became one of the many settlements along Belisse Road.
Surrounding Piyo Village were cherry red and mahogany and goldenrod squares of farmland that spread past the valleys, ending at a great creek once said to be magical. The streets of Piyo Village were lined with colorful houses adorned by wildflower shrubs and golden apple trees. The village was flanked from the west by the great Takenouchi Castle, which stood proud with its banners—a burgundy two-headed eagle sprawled upon a poppy orange sky—and to the east by an ancient temple of marble and oak that revered the wise Birdramon. A golden bird stood, tall and proud, at the tip of the temple's triangular roof, its golden outstretched wings reflecting rainbow morning sunlight upon the temple's entrance and onto the cobblestoned streets of the marketplace.
The marketplace began at a stone arch, which was engraved with the image of Birdramon. According to legend, the mighty Birdramon protected humans and Dejimon alike when the three-eyed giants marched north centuries ago, despairing that the land as they knew it was coming to an end. Since then the citizens of Piyo Village made Birdramon their deity, and its image has been projected anywhere and everywhere.
Shops and merchant wagons huddled side by side in a long street that was the marketplace, which eventually ended and merged with Belisse Road. There was a blacksmith and an apothecary, a butchery and a gambling house, a trading hub and an inn, and the long street ended with the shop-tents of traveling gypsies that brought merchandise from the farthest ends of the kingdom.
As the sun started to fall to the west, casting great shadows upon the Takenouchi Castle, the bustle of people in the marketplace slowly dwindled down. After a long day's work, humans and Dejimon alike trickled back to their colorful homes and to their families, uninterested in what little left the shops had to offer. A sort of peaceful silence filled the marketplace, a silence that propagated from the cobblestone streets all the way to a quaint little bakery by the stone arched entrance.
Even as sky turned from scarlet to deep blues, the smells of fresh bread still emanated from the bakery, where deep within the stone oven the firewood spit and crackled as it slowly died out. A girl of long wavy hair stood behind an oak counter, her head resting on her elbows as she rocked back and forth on her stool. She was of grown age, with fair skin and eyes and hair of the same sweet color as honey. She looked plain and dirty in a roughspun dress and a mustardy apron that was once the color of vanilla, but seemed stained beyond repair.
Her eyelids dropped, then opened, sleep slowly creeping up to her. It had been a long day, as it always was, and she was too distracted in her own musings and drowsiness to hear the soft footsteps coming from the back room. "Mimi! Just what do you think you are doing?" As if icy water had been thrown upon her face, the girl stood up immediately and turned to the burly woman that had just walked in.
The girl bowed in embarrassment, "Ma'am, I'm minding the shop."
Euphratus was a woman as tall as she was thick. She had red ringlets of hair that fell upon her shoulders and back, and her spotted face had the red flush of someone who had spent a lot of time working a kitchen. She grabbed the nearest broom and nearly smacked Mimi across the back with it. "An excuse to slack off! We are closing! Pray tell me, who is coming in at this time?" Mimi promptly stepped away from the broom's reach. "Stop pretending like you own this bakery and get to cleaning up! That is what you are here for! Nothing else!"
Mimi did as she was told; after all she was simply the baker's apprentice.
"Children these days… good thing your looks make up for your lack of wits, girl. How are you supposed to be any good to the shop if you are never any good to me?" Euphratus rambled on as Mimi began sweeping the stuffy corners of the bakery, where crates of flour and sugar were piled high against the walls. Mimi angrily ignored her, feeling more like a kitchen slave and less like a baker's apprentice with every day that passed. Mind you she never complained. Slaving for Euphratus was better than sleeping in the streets any day of the week in Mimi's book.
Just then, when Euphratus had begun to gather the unsold bread into a basket, the door jingled and in walked a woman with a quiet child at her wake. Mimi looked up and wasn't surprised to see Mrs. Weatherbane come in. She always made late afternoon calls into the bakery, which was half the reason why Mimi had still been minding the shop and not closing up. Mrs. Weatherbane was one of the few Dejimon that still lived in Piyo Village. She was a bird Dejimon whose family had lived in Piyo Village since the times when the Village was founded, or so she claimed.
"Euphratus, dearest, I hope I haven't come too late!" Of course she had, but Euphratus would never turn down a costumer. Mrs. Weatherbane was as tall as any human, her body covered in coral red plumage, with a beak for a mouth and long feathers that protruded from under her dress for a tail; she was a bird in a flowery dress and a Sunday hat.
"Mrs. Weatherbane, how can I help you?"
"Well I've come to buy all the unsold bread, you know that, for the temple, you see."
Mimi half listened to their conversation while she stole shy glances at Mrs. Weatherbane's son. He was too engrossed in a thick book to notice her, and somehow Mimi had always liked him for that. He, too, was covered from head to toe in rich plumage, and wore leather trousers and an embroidered ash grey vest. He was a lonely boy, which wasn't surprising, since the children in the village seldom mixed acquaintances with the Dejimon kind. The human children kept to themselves just as the Dejimon children also kept to themselves. It was the way of life, and it was unfortunate for him, since the Dejimon families that still resided in Piyo Village could be counted with the fingers in her hand. In a way he was like her, with very little friends, though she daren't ever try to make conversation with him, else she faced Euphratus' wrath.
"The Lady Sora Takenouchi? The little heiress?" Mimi's thoughts were interrupted by Euphratus' booming voice.
"Yes ma'am! Her parents have set posters all around town! And a mighty bounty to whoever is brave enough to get her back!"
Mimi stilled for a second behind Euphratus' line of sight while she listened to the women gossip. "How could that possibly happen? Who would want to hurt the little Lady?"
"I reckon it's bandits! Kidnapping her just to make some money off the poor landlords!" Mrs. Weatherbane huffed. "Well I do hope they find her, she's their only child and heir isn't she? Oh the poor mother… if anybody were to take my Jhon from me I wouldn't know what to do!" She gathered the giant straw sack of breads and pastries between her bosom and scurried her son forward, to leave the bakery.
"I couldn't possibly imagine… Well I hope to see you tomorrow, Mrs. Weatherbane. Have a nice evening." Euphratus leaned forward, her bosom pooling over the counter as she waved goodbye.
"Of course, the temple needs all the food it can take, for the poor and sickly. I'm always happy to make the donations," the old woman chortled as she pushed through the door, and out to the dark streets she went, her son at her wake.
Euphratus snorted once she had left, "Or to stuff that beak of yours, more like."
Lady Sora had been kidnapped by bandits? Mimi was momentarily saddened. She had seen the young lady many times in her escort of guards whenever the lords visited the marketplace. Lady Sora had even smiled at her once, which had taken her off guard. No one around here bothered to be nice to an orphaned apprentice like her. She just hoped the lady made it back safe somehow, after all, she was the lords' only daughter.
"And you! Get back to work and close the bakery!" Euphratus caught Mimi drifting off into space, making her jump back to sweeping the floor. "Bandits kidnapping little ladies… that's the last thing this town needs," Euphratus mumbled to herself as she scuffled out the back door and out of sight.
Night had fallen by the time Mimi locked the door to the bakery. The lighted candles filled the shop with a quaint glow, casting long shadows past the grates and the oven. Finally, once Mimi was done polishing the floors and the countertops, once the pastry trays had been stacked and the display glass had been swiped, she busied herself with the flower pots that decorated the space.
Mimi Tachikawa was supposed to be the baker's apprentice, but if truth be told, she was much better with flowers. One side of the shop, where the display countertop and the wall and the wooden windowsill met, was amply decorated with flowerpots and flower basins. Five tulips stood erect in a lavender basin, freshly cut and still radiant. Beside it was a small pot that housed an exotic cactus brought from the south by a traveling gypsy; the cactus was decorated with miniscule, dotted flowers the color of dandelion. The rest of the basins upon the countertop held an assortment of shrubs and wildflowers taken from the streets of Piyo Village itself. And finally, at the foot of the countertop by the window stood a sturdy ceramic pot filled with greens and protruding in carnations. All these flowers were here because of her.
Mimi took a whiff of the tulip petals, momentarily sighing in bliss, and turned her attention to the carnations by the window, kneeling close to them. They were of the lilac and pink type, with specks of white surging from the center. Her honey eyes watched them in curiosity; somehow it seemed as if half of them were downcast. Yes, downcast like a person would feel if they were rejected by their loved one—downcast like when someone has a bad day, and all they wanted to do is go home to their dog. Mimi felt the flowers, their sadness, and figured that the only thing that would make them happily erect once again would be a bit of her light.
She cupped her hands around three flowers at a time, and pushed all her love and happiness and energy through. She had done this many times before, though secretly; it was the secret of how her flowers looked so fresh and radiant for so long. Waves of light surged from within the depths of her palms and onto the flowers. The light coursed through the petals and into the flowers' core, and at once the flowers moved, standing taller and more beautiful than ever. "There you go, that ought to do," the baker girl giggled, as if these flowers were her friends.
Mimi stood up to her feet, dusting her mustardy apron off, and smiled at the flowers, "You all better be radiant tomorrow for when I open the bakery! Coming here to eat breakfast is never the same without you lovely ladies…"
The wick of the candles sizzled whenever she pressed her damp fingers against them, putting out their light. Mimi made a round around the shop one last time to make sure everything was perfect, and soon enough she was walking out the back door and past the courtyard of Euphratus' home. For a second Mimi surveyed the sky, noting how today everything looked particularly dark. There is no moon tonight, mayhap that is why the carnations are so sad.
Euphratus' courtyard connected the bakery to the main house. The ground here was unpaved, with a square tuft of grass growing right in the center, around a crooked fountain that, more often than not, was filled with old rain water—a birthing place for tadpoles and mosquitoes. The stillness of the night unnerved her, yet she remained standing by the door that led to Euphratus' foyer, watching the sky. It was a warm spring night, but as she stood there, her eyes on the blanket of black that was the sky, Mimi felt colder than ever. She quickly tiptoed her way inside, never once noticing the still figure that crouched by the neighbor's old thatched roof. Mimi turned around one last time before closing the door behind her, for she got the overwhelming feeling of being watched, but all she saw was the stillness of the night.
Inside the house was comely enough, with its creaky floors and worn-out flowery wallpaper. Mimi only welcomed the darkness, for everything was exactly where it was meant to be; not even the oddest shadow could possibly alarm her. She made sure of this by keeping the house tidy every day, else she faced Euphratus' scolding. Euphratus and her husband mostly kept to the first floor, her bedchamber hidden past a small hallway, while the dinning and kitchen areas where a floor below, down in the cellar. Mimi had no place in this home though, her space was up two flights of stairs, where Euphratus allowed her to live in the small attic.
The tiny space had been crawling with spiders and beetles on her very first day, when Euphratus and her husband welcomed her into their home. Never again though; Mimi cleaned the attic up and filled it with her necessities, and through the years it slowly began to accumulate her belongings. The attic had a circular window so wide that during the daytime the sun was enough to bask the room with light, and during the nighttime the moonlight was so bright it could make any candle blush in shame. Next to the window were two tall plants, lush and green, though these didn't bloom flowers. Her bed was of matted straw, covered with a woolen quilt she herself had made.
It was so dark that Mimi almost knocked into her wooden chest as she came in, but at the same time didn't care to light a candle, for all she wanted was to undress and crawl into her raggedy bed. She threw her mustardy apron aside and was about to slip out of her roughspun dress when a sudden breeze overtook the room. Mimi stopped, the hairs on her arm prickling at the sensation of the wind upon her bared arms and legs. The window had been closed—how could she possibly feel wind in her stuffy attic?
As if by a sixth sense, Mimi knew she wasn't alone in the room anymore. She turned and, despite the darkness, could see the outline of a man standing in-between her and the circular attic window. The window panes were ajar behind him. There was a long pause in which the man observed her, all the while Mimi's eyes were slowly adjusting to his presence. He was a youth, undoubtedly around her age; tall with wild hair and a lean posture.
She should have screamed, but something about him captivated her. "What are you doing? What do you want?" A strange calmness had overtaken her. She was terrified of him, yet couldn't bring herself to scream for Euphratus' help.
"You." A chill ran down her hairs and skin at the sound of his voice. All her fears were reawakened at his answer and just as she was starting to take a shaky step back, he suddenly jumped at her. The world went pitch black around her and all she saw before losing consciousness was a blur of movement and the detail in his eyes as he drew close to deliver the blow to her neck, making her collapse on his arms.
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Mimi's eyes opened suddenly, her body still paralyzed in the state it was laying on. Around her everything was dark, and while her eyes adjusted Mimi noticed the sharp stench that overwhelmed her senses. This smell was alarmingly different to the scents she was used to. She wasn't in her little attic anymore, that was for sure. It was at that instant that Mimi remembered the events that led her to this and she immediately sat up from her laying position.
Her head spun while her hands felt the dusty stone that was the floor. She heard voices around her and in the dim light she saw a mass of clothes and flesh that was a person laying crumpled to her right. To her left were metal bars that protruded from the floor all the way up to the low ceiling. Realization dawned on her; she was in some kind of prison cell! The smell was undoubtedly coming from that sickly person next to her, so she crawled away, pressing her body against the cold metal bars.
"Looks like Sleeping Beauty is finally awake." Somebody chuckled in a very wispy voice.
Mimi grew terrified; there were more people in this prison cell. At first all she had seen were black stone walls around her, but as she took a closer look, she saw people siting and leaning against the walls, almost camouflaged by the darkness and misery.
"What a pleasant sleep you had, fair lady. Oh please do teach me how to sleep so peacefully as you did." Another raspy voice added in a wry tone.
Mimi led out an uncontrolled sob, "Where am I? What is this place?"
"Why, you are a prisoner of the Castle of the Undead." One voice answered.
"What did you do to get yourself into this pickle? Were you sneaking around the Forest of Woes? Messing with necromancy magic right under Apocalymon's nose?" Another voice queried.
Her lips just trembled. Her body ached, her neck ached, and all she could think about was, what indeed had she done to deserve being throwing into a dungeon like this? "What is the Castle of the Undead? I don't know why I'm here… I don't know what is going on." They chuckled and a thought struck her, "How long have I been unconscious for?"
One man counted with his long pointy fingers, "You were brought in a while back."
They shrugged. "Who knows, the passing of time is irrelevant in these dungeons. Don't you think my friend?"
"I count how many years I've been here by how many teeth have rotten and fallen out!" The two chortled quite fondly, but Mimi could not comprehend their mirth. In fact, she felt more miserable than ever.
The sound of a pair of boots reverberated from the other side of the dungeon, where the corner ended with a spiraled staircase that surely led to freedom. A red burning glow began to illuminate the stairs, and soon enough, as the footsteps drew nearer, the glow pooled over the dungeon floors and her prison cell. For a second Mimi had to screw her eyes shut as they adjusted to the new light. She opened her eyes to stare at the stranger and her heart got caught in her throat as she gazed upon the unforgettable appearance of the youth that walked in with the torch. This was the same youth she had seen back in her attic before fainting, this she knew without a doubt in her mind.
The two men that had been talking to her shrunk deeper into the cell, as far away from the youth and his source of light. In one hand he held a torch, which he placed on the rusty holder by the dungeon wall. His other hand held a bundle of fabrics and clinked with the collection of metal keys to the dungeon cells. The dungeon went deathly quiet as the brown haired youth unlocked the heavy padlock that kept the metal bars shut in place. It was as if all the prisoners cowered at the sight of him. Mimi felt a fool for not fearing him as well when she had seen him back in her home.
The heavy gate creaked loudly as it was swung open, his hard gaze on her. He didn't have to speak, she knew he wanted her, and she didn't care anymore that everyone else cowered at the sight of him, she would go, if it meant being on the other side of the metal bars. She struggled to get to her feet, her legs numb and weak from lack of use. Mimi stumbled as she stepped out to the other side of the cell. The stare he had on her unnerved her, and Mimi felt embarrassed having to use the metal bars for support as she steadied herself. She wanted to ask him what was going on, but all the while her words were stuck in the back of her throat.
The youth slammed the metal gate closed the moment she stepped out. He didn't waste any time in locking the padlock in place, delivering a sneer to the prisoners within before turning to her. He shoved the contents of the bundle of fabrics onto her hands and coldly commanded her to follow him.
"Those are your new clothes. You'll freeze to death here if you keep on wearing that little dress of yours. And bread. Eat. I won't have you collapse on my watch." The steps up the stairs seemed endless and in her weakened state Mimi struggled to keep up with his pace. Indeed, she was starving, the mention of food only making her stop for a second to unwrap the bundle. Her mouth watered in joy, relief, and hunger at the sight of the hard lump of bread. It was so old and stale she was only able to scrape the surface with her teeth.
Mimi was too busy with the bread to notice the youth angrily marching down the stairs. He roughly yanked her arm forward, his voice venom, "Keep up! I haven't got all day." Her knees buckled under her in surprise, and she held on to him for dear life, else she stumbled and fell down the spiral staircase, back to the dungeon from whence she came. There was a look of sheer alarm on his face the moment their skins made contact. He reacted in defense—as if she was trying to maim him—and in a blur pushed her against the stone wall behind her, his left hand clutching her throat and squeezing the life out of her.
She would have gasped loudly, but her chords were pressed shut by his grip. In the darkness she could feel his angry eyes searching hers, and she tugged on his wrist in desperation, but his grip was too strong, his posture too adamant.
"What did you do?" Mimi gagged in desperation, fat tears swelling in her eyes, and all she could do was shake her head as fervently as his grapple allowed, praying to the heavens that he wouldn't kill her then and there. She was confused; she had felt it as well, a surging, similar to what she felt whenever she gave light to her flowers. It had been brief and miniscule, but there all the same. It happened when their skins touched, but now, as his contact was overpowering her, she knew the surging had banished.
He was scowling when he released hold of her, pushing her off as if her skin seared his. Mimi crumpled to the stair flooring, all the while grasping her bruised throat and gasping for air. She could tell he was watching her struggle, and soon enough he was commanding her to keep going. "Get up. Or would you rather rot here in the dungeons?"
Mimi steadied herself against the moldy wall, hatred brewing deep within her. "You bastard. What gives you the right?" The look in his eyes told her he could stand there, indifferent and aloof, even if she ranted and screamed at his face for a hundred years.
"You are a prisoner of the Castle of the Undead. You have no rights."
Her heart skipped a beat at the cruelty in his words; really, what had she done to deserve this? She had been a prisoner of her life for as long as she could remember, but now it was different. Now it wouldn't be Euphratus giving her the broomstick beatings, now it would be this murderous youth with his venomous words.
"Why did you bring me here?" Her fingers gripped the indentations of the stone wall behind her as she waited in agonizing anticipation. A hundred scenarios materialized in her mind, each more gruesome than the last. He could want to use her in so many ways… kill her in so many ways…
"My master commanded me to."
"Who is your master?" She pressed herself against the wall even more, wishing she could banish through it and reemerge miles and miles away from this youth and his glaring eyes.
He ignored her apprehension and continued his way up the stairs before replying, "The Lord of the Castle of the Undead."
She followed him without question, more terrified that his patience would grow short and of what he was capable of doing. There was no other way around it, either, she could follow him or go back down to the dungeons, and the latter terrified her. The spiraled stairs ended at a studded oak door so heavy the youth had to push it open with both hands. Beyond it was a long hallway illuminated by torches of green flame, yet whenever Mimi walked by any of them, she could not feel the warmth that should be emanating from them; it was as if the green flames truly were not fire after all.
They walked past a labyrinth of hallways before beginning their ascend onto another set of stairs, all the while Mimi was ready to burst with questions about why she was here in the first place, and where was here. She wanted to know who he was, what he wanted with her, but felt afraid of those hard eyes and that scowl. Another studded door led them to a wide, dusty foyer decorated in decrepit stone gargoyles, and it was there that the young man walked ahead of her towards a door guarded by two hunched figures.
The stench in the air should have warned her, but Mimi was too caught up in comprehending everything around her that she didn't detail the hunched figures in time. They turned and screeched and ran at her. Their eyes were bloodshot, with small bits of flesh missing here and there in their blue-purple faces. Their clothes, bloody and putrid, had holes that revealed rotting flesh, muscles, and broken bones.
Mimi backed away and nearly cried when she felt her back crash against the studded door, realizing she was trapped with the undead wights.
"Enough." Mimi couldn't have been gladder to hear the youth's infuriatingly calm voice. They stopped at once inches away from her, their stupid heads lolling back at his direction, waiting for his command.
"You are to guard the girl, not have her for dinner." The wights limped back to where they previously stood by the small wooden door, Mimi now fighting back the tears. Now she knew why this place was called Castle of the Undead.
"Don't mind them; they're here to make sure you don't go anywhere."
The thought of being guarded by two blood-thirsty zombies made Mimi wish she could stay in the dungeon cell after all. At least there her companions would be alive. "Please let me go." What would it take for her to convince him?
"Come on—" the youth said between gritted teeth, beckoning her, and Mimi moved before he pulled her forward himself.
The undead growled at her as she walked past the small door they guarded, their putrid smell overwhelming her nostrils. Goosebumps prickled her skin as she passed through, but the way the youth stopped in the darkness ahead of her told her beyond this door was their destination. Mimi watched, open mouthed, when he produced a fireball from the palm of his hand to light the hearth of a crumbling fireplace. The small wood splinters sizzled with the heat and a lighted glow filled the room; a warm orange glow much different to the iridescent lights from the torches upon the castle hallways.
She stood like a statue against the nearest wall, taking in the sight of the room before her. There was a small straw bed covered in grubby quilts facing the fireplace, a feeble chair stood in-between the straw bed and the stone wall, and high on the wall was a small window secured with metal bars, through which the moonlight trickled in, pooling over the sooty stones that were the floor and the dusty quilt that was the bedding. "What am I doing here?"
He took a step forward under the pooling moonlight. The light casted harsh shadows over his hair, under his eyes, and everywhere his clothes wrinkled. He looked terrible and ethereal all at the same time and it was then that the panic within her resurfaced all at once. "This is your room."
Her eyes watered, "I mean, what am I doing in this castle? What does your master want with me?"
"I don't have to answer to you." He began walking towards the door and, despite her terror, Mimi almost grasped his arm to stop him, but he was quick to avoid her touch. The memory of his terrified reaction when their skins made contact back in the dungeon flashed through her mind.
"Take me back! You have no right to keep me here! What have I done?" She wanted to screech, to tear her hair out, tear his hair out, but could only stand there like a feeble fool, unable to take back her own freedom. "I'm just an orphaned baker's apprentice. I'm worth nothing, if ransom is what you want."
"That is exactly why you are here."
The tears on her eyes were on free fall at his response.
"This will be your room from now on. Be grateful I don't leave you to rot down in that dungeon. You're a baker's apprentice, you say? Well your stay here won't be for free either. You will work the kitchens, use your talents for something, I suppose." He paused, assuming for her to object, but Mimi just watched him, hatred in her eyes as the tears and the snot flowed down her cheeks and face. "I will show you to the kitchens."
"And what if I don't agree to this?" She took a deep breath, reluctant to let out a single sob in the presence of this heartless youth.
"You either walk with me, or I'll have the wights outside escort you." The ghost of a smirk found his lips. He held the door open for her, his expression stone while he waited, already knowing she would helplessly oblige. The wights stirred and grunted as Mimi walked past, all the while she hugged her arms close together to give herself what little comfort she could muster. It was in vain though; she felt naked and terrified and forlorn.
Once again he took the lead, and they descended down a menagerie of hallways and stairs, each more macabre than the last. She could tell this castle had once been quite magnificent, though now all that was left were its rotting remains. Dust covered the fantastic arches of marble and golden paint that decorated nearly every major door. The furniture, though quite visibly falling apart, had handcrafted cravings upon the wood, each with the same flowery emblem that looked out of place in a setting such as this. Portraits of ancient men and women lined the walls, the paint faded and the framework splintery. Dead bugs and never-ending networks of cobwebs filled the crevices in every corner and ceiling. And some halls were heavy with the musk of dust, but others appalled her with the putrid stench of rotting flesh.
Everywhere they went, Mimi felt eyes following her. She felt herself being followed, observed by unseen forces, and couldn't help but walk closer and closer to the youth—him being the only thing she was certain was alive around her. She would turn to look behind her and the emptiness and the silence was all there was, yet she couldn't shake the feeling.
The most terrifying part of the castle, though, were the undead wights. They stood around corners and guarded secret doors in the same fashion empty suits of armor stood guard in castles. They sneered and growled whenever Mimi and the youth walked past, their bloodshot eyes sizing her up hungrily. She knew they guarded the castle as much as they guarded the prisoners, and as much as they guarded her.
Mimi followed him through a long passageway decorated with tall, arched windows that overlooked dead fields and a black forest. She hugged the wall opposite as she went, afraid a gust of the moaning wind would push her off the castle walls down to her death. She could see from high above that the grounds were also infested with the wights. They aimlessly treaded the grounds back and forth, surely coursing an endless walk through the world of the living.
The passageway ended at a shabby door that opened to a spiraled staircase filled with the fumes of cooking food and sounds of bustling pans and pots. Mimi was momentarily surprised, though she shouldn't have been; this castle had living people as well, she was sure, which would require feeding normal, human food. Humans and Dejimon in dirty roughspun rags tended the kitchens. They chopped vegetables and kneaded bread and stirred giant iron cauldrons that sizzled with delicious vapors, making Mimi's stomach grumble quite audibly.
The kitchen eventually went quiet while Mimi and the youth stood by the elevated door. They faced him, some of them noticeably apprehensive of his presence. "She will be the new addition to the kitchen." He stated loudly once the last boiling pot ceased to stir and the entire cooking staff's attention was on him. "She is to help around as you see fit," this he told to the burly man with the dirty mustache and the crooked chef's hat; he must have been the one in charge. "But she is here primarily for Lord Apocalymon, so don't wear her out and make her useless." He paused as his dark gaze scanned the people before him, his eyes menacing and calculating. "That is all; go back to your duties." There was a low grumble of disagreement within the crowd and Mimi could only stand there while they judged her with their harsh stares. The youth spared her one last glance before retreating back up the stairs and as soon as he was gone the kitchenry dispersed back to their business.
The burly cook didn't waste a second before shoving her over to a short Dejimon that was shrouded in the shadows of a massive pile of dirty potatoes. "Palmon, she is yours. Make some use of her."
The Dejimon looked startled at first, but her big, black eyes rounded in such a friendly way that Mimi was glad she was finally dumped and left alone by the potatoes. "Hi… I'm Mimi…" The girl extended her hand out, amazed of the vines that wrapped around her palm and wrist as they shook hands; never before in her life had Mimi seen a Dejimon such as her.
Palmon's skin was a deep green, rich as the leaves in shrubbery during rainy season. Mimi felt the slick, plant-like texture of her skin when they shook hands, and atop her head was a massive fuchsia lily, the petals worn and torn at the ends. She was a living, walking, talking plant in the flesh.
"I'm Palmon, the potato peeler…" There was a hint of humor in her voice, slightly lightening Mimi's spirit.
Mimi was about to tell her how she'd never seen a Dejimon quite like herself when a brute of a man bumped into her by accident. She was pushed forward to the potatoes where she crashed, the dirty tubers tumbling down onto her head and body. The man didn't bother to extent his apologies, and he scurried away with a pot in his hands as if nothing happened. Mimi laid there, crumpled and defeated, and finally felt the sting of fat tears swelling in her eyes. She felt defeated. She felt alone, in a foreign castle full of hostile inhabitants and, as she laid there within the potatoes, decided she would finally let the tears unfold.
Palmon took her by surprise, wrapping her in vines that stretched out from her fingertips, like magic, and withdrawing Mimi's defeated form from the pile. "Hey, don't cry," she soothed her in a lovely voice as they tumbled awkwardly to the nearest corner, Mimi unable to hold back the tears any longer.
"I know, it's hard when you first come here, but you have to toughen up, or else the castle alone will kill you." Palmon patted her brown curls but Mimi only sobbed harder.
"Come on now. You don't want to die, do you?" This she said in a solemn tone.
Her eyes bore deeply into her and suddenly Mimi felt a fool for breaking down in tears. I just want a reprieve, was all she could think to herself. "I don't want to die."
"Good! Then you won't!" Her enthusiasm puzzled Mimi. How could she feel content in a place such as this? She thought about the prisoners in the dungeon cell and about their puzzling amusement. "Mimi… that's a pretty name—"
"What does the Lord of the Castle of the Undead want with me?"
Palmon tsk'ed. "I don't know silly. And probably you won't find out, until it's too late."
Mimi's stomach dropped a little, but really, she had been ready to retch since the moment she woke up in that cell. "If I ask that man that brought me, will he tell me?"
The plant Dejimon was immediately alarmed. "Oh no no no no. Stay away from Taichi—"
"Taichi?" The name rolled out of her mouth as if, oddly enough, it belonged to do so.
"Taichi is Lord Apocalymon's right-hand man. He is twisted and cursed, and he lives to please the lord, no matter how cruel and wicked he has to be. If you really want to live, you ought to avoid him at all costs."
By now Mimi's tears had subsided. From the sound of it, she had already seen the worst. "How do I stay alive, Palmon?" And sane.
"You peel the potatoes, fetch and take the food to where it needs to go, never resist the lord, keep away from Taichi and Yamato—both are Lord Apocalymon's lackeys—and never test the undead wights, because they will bite."
Mimi could only sigh deeply as she leaned against the cold stone wall. Palmon made it sound so easy, but what she really wanted was her freedom.
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