/Apologies if this chapter turns out to be rushed, or a bit sloppy.
But there's more juicy scenes coming soon.
Enjoy!
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Tossing and turning in her sleep, Shelly grasped at the sheets underneath her. The pillow that her head rested against was of the finest feathers in the land, molding into any shape whenever she moved. A snuggly and warm blanket covered her body as she breathed in lightly. Peaceful, and undisturbed.
While she was off in her world, Pamela smiled at her companion. They had arrived here a few days prior, but the witch was still out cold. Her conclusion was that she had been wandering around restlessly. Fearful of bandits, animals, and the like. With nowhere to go.
Around the afternoon, she went to go check up on her. Sitting down on a chair she had placed right next to her bed, the warrior glanced outside at the cloudy day. In the grand estate that belonged to the woman she admired; or more commonly referred to as, the Goddess Felice.
Her benevolent nature allowed for the sheltering of the witch, despite the other followers being wary of her presence. Though, this all happened while she was being carried inside by the warrior.
"Tell me, why do you feel the need to take responsibility for this one?" Asked a clear and light voice. Letting out a sigh, she turned to face a woman, garbed in a gothic violet and black dress. An umbrella in hand, she twirled it around the spacious hallway, as if there was nothing better to do.
Hesitating whether or not to answer, Pamela's uncertainty caused her to smile in an irritating fashion. "Oh, what's wrong, little girl? Don't you have a mind to answer your elder's question?" She added, fixing her dark raven hair.
When the two made direct eye contact, there was no denying in the warrior's scowl. Her eyes merely reflected off of those dusty gray ones. This deathly look had no effect on someone who's only fear was in losing her subjects. "If you feel that attached to her, then come to me whenever she perishes. I may have a thing or two that could bring her back."
Laughing at her own dark sense of humor, she saw the silver haired woman's fist clench tightly. "Mizerka! I swear, if you do not-"
"Calm down, it was only a joke. And why the name? You're much cuter if you call me big sis." She teased.
Feeling her face burn with embarrassment, she looked away, She hated whenever her sister brought those memories up. "I'm not a little girl anymore! Besides, I don't have any reason to." She countered,
Pulling off a fake pout, she made her way to her younger sister's side. "How rude. Showing no respect for your sister's wishes." Taking a hold of the silver antenna, she pulled on it roughly. A yelp of pain escaped the young one as she felt it being stretched out painfully. "Now, how do you refer to me?" The dark undertone sent shivers down her spine.
"B-Big sister!" Pamela cried, near tears. Smiling genuinely, Mizerka let go of it. The sight of it bouncing back into place causing her to giggle. "My, it seems like it has a mind of its own." Putting a hand on top of her younger sister's head, she began stroking it comfortingly. There was no hate and love cycle. Only pain and love.
After the pain had faded away, is when she found the gesture soothing. Soon, she felt herself leaning against her elder sister. Shutting her eyes, she relaxed from the stimulating treatment. It was amazing at what a simple touch could do.
Stirring from the blissful state, her emerald eyes gazed upon Shelly's sleeping form. Just how long would she stay like this? It was starting to become worrisome. "Isn't it rather odd?" Mizerka began. "She's been in that coma like state for the past several days, and has not once broken from it."
Nodding in agreement, she looked up to her from the seat. "Does that mean she's…" She mumbled, afraid of what the truth might be. "Of course not. This is due to exhaustion, not any type of injury. If there was anything wrong, then Soleil would have detected it beforehand." She answered in response, quelling any of her worries.
"Look, your duties are those of Felice's, not to take in and care for hitchhikers." She stated. "Furthermore, you shouldn't be involving those around you into your own affairs."
Being reprimanded by her didn't help her in the least bit. Noticing the distress on her face, Mizerka shook her head. "Well, I'm off now. If there's any update on her condition, be sure to notify me."
As her heel clicks echoed down the hall, Pamela gripped the arms of her chair. As seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours, she awaited for the moment the witch would awaken.
In the dead of night, two bright vermillion eyes slowly adjusted to the dark room; dimly lit by the fluorescent moonlight shining through the window. Gently tilting her head to the side, she noticed an open arm chair. Was someone watching her while she was asleep? If so, then why would they?
Shifting around in bed, she placed an elbow against the soft mattress, to keep her upright. This way, she would have a clear view of her surroundings. Conjuring up a small flame, the room flickered with light.
Feeling for her hat and cloak, she was only met with a few strands of her hair, and a white sleeping gown. The soft fabric felt cool against her skin. Getting out of bed, her bare feet felt a polished, wooden floor. With each step she took, the wind would howl outside the building. It was getting rather cold these days, so the sound was more or less comforting in the silence of the room.
Twisting the doorknob, the door creaked open into a long stretch of hallway. Circular spheres of light hung from the ceiling. From what she could gather, it was magic. From whom or what could have casted it, and still had the power to control it from afar, was a mystery.
Walking down the never ending path, she heard a light tune playing from down a corner. It was soft, and gentle. Like that of a mother singing a lullaby to her newborn child. The sound lured her in, like that of a siren. Finally meeting a pair of large double doors, the music had grown louder and louder. It all cumulated from this source, but what could be causing it? Grabbing the latch, she pulled opened the door.
As it turned out, the room itself was a garden. A variety of beautiful flowers studded the area, as well as works of art adorning the walls themselves. A giant bay window revealed the ever hanging moon shining its light. Bathing the flora in a hue of colors. In the center of it all, was a woman. She stood dignified, as her hands strung along the chords of her harp. With each pull of a string, the melody would reverberate down the halls.
Shelly's body swayed with each note of the entrancing music. As her eyes landed on her hair, she was surprised to see the same silver hue. Those features belonged to that of her savior. Rushing up to her in a hurry, a small look of excitement crossed her rather dull countenance, as she was about to greet her. Though, this fantasy was short lived.
Instead, the moment the figure turned around to face her, it glowered. Seemingly infuriated with her interruption, the witch had overlooked one crucial detail. Though they shared the same hair color, antenna, and emerald green orbs, this one had a ponytail that reached her ankles. "To what do I owe this irksome woman who so rudely disturbed my melody?" She asked. Flinching at her cold words, Shelly's expression formed into an apologetic frown. There wasn't anything she could say to calm this woman. "Oh? Does this maiden think I am unworthy of hearing her sweet voice? Do you feel entitled to those words you keep to yourself?"
Her barrage of questions caused the witch to shrink. She just wanted to be far away from the current situation at hand. It was extremely uncomfortable, not to mention, demeaning. Regaining her composure, the look-a-like swiftly spun on her heels. Facing the glistening moon, she began playing her harp once again. Along with it, she even sang a few lyrics.
They almost caused her to forget the foul mouthed, ill-tempered woman's words. She couldn't hate her, that was impossible. There was no room in her fragile heart left for anger. Walking back towards the entrance, she exited the room. The melody drafted through the slips and cracks; following her whether or not she wanted it to.
Regardless of the majority of hallways that were identical, her keen memory allowed her to travel down the right path. Approaching the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks. That room….despite its cozy bed, did nothing to serve as a replacement for 'home.' "Pamela…." She mumbled, the once dull, and bleak look returning. Where could she have gone to? Surely the warrior didn't just leave her here.
"Wonder….where she is." Opening every door she came across quietly, Shelly peeked inside. They were mostly just women. Faceless individuals she had no meaning to befriend. Err, more like she couldn't. "Sorry…." She apologized quietly, each time she found them shifting around restlessly. Finding a set of staircases, the witch chose to go up. It was the only sensible choice, since going down would be more of a living room, ideal first floor type of estate. On the third floor, there was a drastic shift in design. Insignia's of petals decorated the doors, each with an individual shade, and color. Even the walls had a strange, waving pattern on them, as if someone was drawing wind.
"Pam….where...are you?" There were just five doors this time. With the fifth one in the center of it all, straight down the corridor. The doors were that of the gardens, but studded with live flowers.
Entering the first door on her left, she found someone sleeping soundly underneath a blanket. It went up to their head, obscuring any familiar facial features, all but one. A silver strand of hair poked out like a sore thumb. Which meant…. "This is...her….what if I, asked…." Shuffling to the side of her bed, the witch slowly lifted a corner of the blanket up. There, her tranquil expression was a sight to behold. She was garbed in the same white sleeping gown as her companion was. "Did she give this...to me?" The thought made a smile appear on her face. "Why're you...so kind, to someone...like me?"
Earning a light snore in response, Shelly let out a soft giggle. Slipping underneath the covers, she felt her saviors arm drape over her. It brought her closer, until she was pressed up against her chest. Perhaps she thought the witch was some type of stuffed animal?
None of that mattered, as she felt at home right here. The warm embrace was enough to lull her into sleep.
