Written by phoebesmiles
A/N: This is a chain-up story with my good friend RaeyaK's 'Insecure'. Hope you enjoy reading! (I've noticed I can't really separate the sections of the chapter. Sorry for that. Trying to work that out.)
I DO NOT OWN MAPLE STORY! NEXON DOES!
Chapter 4: The Courtyard
We're in some kind of courtyard, Naomi, Layla, the old lady and me. The floors are paved with blood red ceramic tiles and the sky is a faint colour of orange and indigo. Layla is on the floor, her curly red hair scattered across it, and I can't tell whether she's bleeding or not. Naomi stands next to her, looking at her like she's slime on her shoe.
"Come on, muppet. I'm not done with you yet." Naomi whispers, her voice filled with false sympathy, crouching next to her. Naomi stands up, and I notice her red skintight cat suit torn around the edges. Naomi kicks Layla in the stomach with her pointy shoes, but Layla just moans.
"Winner, Naomi Grayson." The old lady announces, and Layla disappears.
"W-Where did she go?" I scream at her.
"I teleported back to the house. No worries." She whispers. "She's had enough for now." The old lady glances at Naomi. "Next round. Shirley Fox versus Naomi Grayson."
"This is going to be so easy." Naomi smirks, as I put on my claw.
"Don't get your hopes up. You've already used quite a bit of magic with Layla, didn't you?" I say, feeling confident.
"And, start!"
A loud bell goes off, and Naomi runs towards me, her long brown hair flying behind her. For a second, my mind goes blank. Why am I doing this? Why am I agreeing to fight Naomi, when I know my chances of winning are close to zero? Six Ilbi stars are flung at me, but I dodge them easily.
"Not so tough, are you?" I taunt Naomi.
"Don't get your hopes up. We're just getting started." She grins, mocking me. More stars are thrown at me, and I start running. I just got to my 3rd Job Advancement a week ago, and the only Hermit skill I have is a measly Triple Throw, which is nothing compared to the arsenal of skills Naomi probably has.
"Freak!" I shriek. I fall to the ground, face first. Next to me are about a dozen stars. I glance at my arm, and half of my sleeve is gone. That could've really hurt.
"Told ya." Naomi walks towards me, and I stumble to my feet. I throw steelies at her, but she swats them away with her claw like they're flies. She picks me up by my throat and I feel her leather gloves rubbing against my skin.
"S-Stop!" I mumble, but her grip just gets tighter.
"I'm just gonna make this quick." Naomi smiles icily. "You won't feel a thing."
"Bullshit!" I kick her in her knee, and she drops me like a hot potato.
"Damn," She wobbles on her feet. "Why can't you just make my job easier? Annoying pest."
I run across the courtyard, because I know I'll have more of an advantage if I'm as far away as possible. I throw steelies at her but she dodges them. She flash jumps toward me, her lips set in a creepy smile. Her fist meets my jaw, hard, and I fall to the hard floor again.
"Come on," I hear Naomi whisper. "Get up," I hear her footsteps, and she's walking around me in circles. I feel something pointy against my leg - her shoes.
"Here you go," I whisper, stabbing my steely into her thigh.
"F-Freak!" Naomi shrieks. "What the hell! Are you trying to permanently scar me?" I look up and her blood is seeping through her cat suit a little already.
"Maybe." I stand up, my left leg feeling numb.
"Winner, Shirley Fox." The old lady comes up to us, grinning slightly, and snaps her fingers. Naomi disappears, back to the house, leaving me alone.
"Naomi!" I shout, as she fades into oblivion. I glance at the old lady, still grinning, and my heart about jumps out of my mouth. How am I going to defeat this lady? I didn't think Naomi would be hurt by such a lame move. "Naomi! Layla!"
"Oh, shut it." The old lady sneers. "It's time for the next battle."
"N-No! No, no, no, no, no, no way that I'm not going to kill an old lady!" I run across the courtyard, but the invisible force fields keep me from escaping. Dammit! Naomi was supposed to kill her, not me. Or, even Layla might have done it, seeing that's she's so keen on the assassination bit.
"Don't worry. I'll go easy on you." The old lady starts to glow yellow, and she starts….what the shit is she doing? Is she m-molting? Her silver hair turns red, and her skin turns porcelain and wrinkle-free. Her pale, thin lips turn ruby red and plump. Even her pink gown turned into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. "Come on, Shirley. I'm ready." She whispers, her voice high-pitched and girly.
"Cheryl?" I gasp. "W-wait, were you the old lady right from the start?"
"For a hermit, you're pretty slow." Her lips twist into a mean snarl of a smile. "This is all a test, really. I'm testing you and your little friends."
"I'm not going to fight you." I say slowly, backing up. "You know that, don't you?
She spits on the ceramic floor and shoves me. Being seriously weak in the knees as I am, I fall over easily. "Ow!" I yelp. I try to sit up, but Cheryl kicks me back down with the toe of her boots.
"Truthfully, I can't really hurt you physically." She whispers, crouching next to me. She pins me by my shoulder and suddenly I can't move.
"Why not?" I ask, struggling a little. Her gaze meets my eyes, and I can't help but stare at her aqua eyes. They're aqua, not blue. Aqua.
"We're connected. Literally." Her face nears mine, and I feel a bead of sweat trickle down my neck. She pinches her own arm, hard, and I feel a shock of pain go through my own. "Understand, Shirley?" She mumbles, her voice shaking.
I nod, and she releases my shoulder from her death grip. "So, now what?" I ask, sitting up. Cheryl gives me a dirty look, and snaps her fingers.
We sit in the little house, sipping lavender tea. Me, in my tattered and torn black hoodie. Layla, adding more and more honey into her tea. Naomi, bandaging her leg. The room is totally silent, other than the sound of Cheryl stirring up her soup from before. "Uhm, Old La – I mean, Cheryl. Could I get some of that?" Layla whispers, noticing how good it smells.
"Sure." Cheryl mumbles awkwardly in a low voice. She scoops out soup into a small bowl and hands it to Layla gingerly.
"Thanks!" Layla grins, sipping noisily straight from the bowl.
I gaze over at Naomi, still fiddling with her wound's dressing. I apologized to her earlier, but she just shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. I stabbed her. How could that not be a big deal? She has a really puzzled expression on her face, probably because she can't see Cheryl. To her, that bowl of soup just magically floated from the pot to Layla's hands. Spooky.
"So, you killed that old lady, right?" Naomi questions me, pouring herself more tea. Layla giggles a little and gulps down her soup.
"Y-Yeah," I fib. She narrows her eyes suspiciously, but decides to just turn a blind eye.
"I told you she would be easy." Naomi went on. "Seeing that even you could kill her."
"Haha, very funny." I mumble under my breath, even though there wasn't anything funny about it.
"So, who's that ghost you two have been whispering to?" Naomi asks, pointing at Cheryl, who's just taken a seat next to her.
"Ghost? What ghost?" Layla says hurriedly. I pinch her under the table and just grin, a little too cheerfully.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Naomi." I say casually, staring at Cheryl out of the corner of my eye. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"
Cheryl was sitting by the table, knitting what seems to be a yellow scarf. Her long legs, clad in expensive satin, were crossed as she fiddled with mix-matched knitting needles. One was metal, the other bamboo. I give her a "What-the-hell-are-you-doing?" look and she just shrugs and mouths "Ghosts get cold in winter, too."
"I swear, sometimes you two never tell me anything." Naomi huffs, stirring her piping hot tea with her pinky. She eyes the magically floating knitting needles and yellow yarn next to her and rolls her eyes. "I mean, we are in the same team, aren't we?"
I glance at Layla, and she just shrugs. I do feel guilty, really. Just a little bit. Enough to make me have a sour taste on my tongue, which isn't much. Seriously, how could I feel very guilty? It's Naomi. The girl who makes rude remarks about everyone, including her very own mother, and would probably kick a puppy in the face just for a laugh. Not to mention she's practically the spawn of Satan. Maybe its slightly friendlier and red obsessed cousin, but still.
"Sorry," I say, trying to sound as sorry as I possibly could. "But some things are just meant to be kept as secrets."
Cheryl doesn't look happy. Not at all, really.
She's sitting crossed legged on the floor, looking as flustered as I've seen her. I can't blame her, really. Having three random girls invade her little house. Layla is moving the beds and the chairs around and Naomi is sitting on the coffee table, ordering Layla around. (Or in her words, "supervising".)
"Is this really necessary?" Cheryl complains, in a hushed tone.
"Sorry," I whisper. "I'm still trying to convince Naomi that the old la – I mean, you're dead."
Cheryl rolls her eyes and swears, quietly. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood, Shirley."
"If you really are in a good mood, then could you tell me what that whole thing was about?"
"Whole thing?"
"Yeah," I mumble. "The whole dressing up as an old lady thing."
"That was…..To get your attention."
"Hm, five foot seven redheaded ghost. How could I have missed?" I laugh.
"Seriously. You aren't listening to what I'm trying to tell you." Cheryl takes a deep breath. "You'll never know how much trouble I had to go through to get an old lady costume."
"And the old man costume?"
"Nah. He's just some hobo I found lying outside Eos tower." Now it was Cheryl's turn to laugh.
"Shut up over there, would you?" Naomi shouts from across the house. "Layla! To the right!"
"She's a nice one, isn't she?" Cheryl whispers. I can't tell whether she's sarcastic or not. "I'd love to fight her, one day." She says in a dreamy voice.
"Why not now?" I ask her. I could imagine why Cheryl would love to fight Naomi. They both have similar qualities. They're both really strong, both the same age, both at least a little evil….
"She can't see me." She rests her chin on her hand before letting out a long sigh. "And you kinda stabbed her. It just wouldn't be fair."
"Pfft. It's called self-defense." I say, pretending to sound insulted. Cheryl chucks a throw pillow Layla dropped onto the floor at me, and I giggle like a baby.
"Shirley, I have to go." Cheryl whispers suddenly, placing her hand on my shoulder.
"Go? Why?"
"I can't stay here for too long. It drains my magic." She smiles a little, before fading into oblivion.
I look into the oven's tiny window, and watch the brownies bake. The whole house smells like intoxicating cinnamon and bubbling chocolate. I look over my shoulder, and the other two are still asleep. Layla on Cheryl's bed, (I'm pretty sure Cheryl won't be too happy) and Naomi on the fluffy red carpet she found (stole?) somewhere outside.
The timer rings, and I search around the kitchen for oven mitts. Aren't any. Maybe because Cheryl is a ghost, she can't really feel the heat. Or she just doesn't cook that often. Nevermind. I grab a napkin from the table and fish the hot brownies from the oven.
"Are they ready?" Layla asks, stretching her arms and yawning.
I nod, before dumping them on the table. Naomi, who was beginning to snore gently under the table, seemed to not notice how I was kicking her in the shins. "Wake up, sleepyhead." I said in a hushed tone, like you would say to a five year old.
I felt something grab my leg from under the table.
Seriously. That was the only reason why I screamed. I don't scream for absolutely no reason.
At least, not every day.
"You should have seen the look on your face!" Naomi laughs, like someone just mentioned Kim's wedding, while scoffing down warm brownies.
"Well, you do have to admit it was kinda funny." Layla giggles.
"Who's side are you on?" I give Layla a dirty look, and she stops laughing.
Naomi just shrugs and flips her hair. I'll probably never really understand her. She's mean and sarcastic and rude but sometimes sassy and cool and….
"Freak," I hear Naomi shout. "Get off my boot!"
I peer under the table, and see Cheryl's arm pulling at her leg. I hear someone snicker, and Cheryl returns to the surface, right before us, grinning. Layla is giggling even harder now.
"What the hell," Naomi snarls. "Tell your ghost to lay off, Shirley."
Layla punches Cheryl playfully in the arm, laughing even harder. "Good one, Cheryl!"
I'm not really one hundred percent sure, but I think Layla is growing on Cheryl. Even though she acts like a toddler. Whenever Layla talks to her Cheryl just smiles awkwardly and shrug it off. Maybe she feels guilty about fighting her? Layla never really holds a grudge, unlike her, though.
"Sit. You're just in time for some brownies." I tell Cheryl, patting the chair next to me gently.
"Thanks." She says awkwardly.
"So, this thing is called 'Cheryl'?" Naomi says in a snotty voice.
"Thing? Seriously, bitch? Even though I'm a ghost, doesn't mean I don't have feelings." Cheryl roars.
Layla just shrugs and throw a scrunched up tissue at Cheryl. "Hey! I'm pretty sure it's just a little misunderstanding. Nothing to make a big fuss about."
Naomi and Cheryl snort in unison, while Layla and I exchange "What-the-hell?" glances.
"Sisters, much?" I mumble under my breath. I feel Cheryl's body stiffening next to me.
"You mean you guys are sisters?" Layla says jokingly.
I look over at her, and Cheryl looks nervous. "Is there something you aren't telling me?" I ask.
Cheryl eyes Naomi, who seems seriously confused, before letting out a long sigh. "I'm not sure."
I toss and turn, but it takes hours before I finally get sleepy.
I'm sleeping on Cheryl's bed, Layla curled up next to me. Naomi is sleeping on the floor, yet again. There's so many things I want to ask Cheryl. Like, how come her eyes aren't blue? And how did she get this house? Is she somehow related to Naomi? What does she have to do with Griffin? Why did she ever need that dagger? Why is her blanket so thin?
I tug at the blanket Cheryl must of knitted, and it turns out Layla is one heavy toddler. It's going to be a long night.
At around midnight, I hear a tap at the window. I sit up abruptly, causing Layla to moan "No more brownies, Shirley." softly.
I roll off the bed, onto the cold floor. I walk over to the small window, and catch a glimpse of black hair. "Griffin?" I whisper into the darkness. I peep outside, but it seems no one's there. Hmm, too bad. I press my face against the cold glass, and a little cloud of condensation appears.
I crawl back to bed, feeling a little disappointed. I can't be imagining things, can I? I snuggle back into my pillow, trying to fall asleep.
"Shirley? You okay?"
I turn around expecting Layla waking up for some water or something. Instead, I see Naomi peeping her head from under the table.
"I'm fine." I say, using my most reassuring voice. At least, I hope I used it.
Naomi stares at me for a while, and even though her eyes were very bleary, I could tell she seemed very skeptical. "You suck at lying." She says, before falling back into a deep sleep.
I hear the sound of sheets rustling, water flowing from a tap.
I open my eyes and let them adjust to the bright sunshine. Naomi is sitting by the table cross legged, reading a dog eared and dusty book.
"Where's Layla?" I ask Naomi, rubbing my eyes gently.
Naomi moves around in her seat, flipping pages. "I think she's outside. Getting flowers or something."
"Flowers?" I ask, scrambling out of bed. I grab my hoodie off the floor of slip it on hastily.
"Woah," Naomi says, eying me as I'm halfway to the door. "What's the rush?"
I slam the door shut, ignoring her question. "Layla! LAYLA!" I shouted.
"What the hell?" I hear Naomi complain from the tiny window. I turn around and give her a nasty look. Naomi mumbles something under her breath and suddenly my feet are bolted to the ground. "You can't go around shouting like that." She continued. "It'll make us look like tourists."
"Cancel out your spell!" I shouted. She just rolled her eyes and mumbled another spell. "Mmmpf!" I try to shout, but my words come out all muffled. "Namffi!"
"Shush." Naomi put her fingers to her lips. "I can't help you if you don't be quiet."
I tried to say "How can I be quiet when you keep casting spells on me?" but it turned out completely inaudible.
Naomi just shrugs. She opens the door slightly before pulling on my arm, tugging me into the house. She mumbles some more and my feet and move again.
"Hell yeah," I whisper. "I can move again. And talk."
"Now, what's up?" Naomi asks casually, sitting down.
"The ceiling." I joke.
"Seriously,"
"Layla went out picking flowers?"
"What's so bad about that?"
"Doesn't she know how dangerous it is here?"
"Dangerous?"
"It's Orbis. And she went without her wand."
"Whatever. She's not a baby anymore. She can take care of herself."
"How would you know?" I ask her, getting impatient.
Naomi points to her eyes. "I can do more than throw stars, okay."
"Okay," I nod, and watch as she closes her eyes slowly.
"She's fine. She's just chasing after some butterflies." Naomi says slowly, after a while.
"How do you know?"
"As I've said. I can do more than kick your ass." Naomi laughed.
"FYI, I actually won the last time." I say.
"The last time,"
Info: Woah, just noticed they're only 3 other people in this chapter. Cue mini applause for me finishing this in a week. Kind of.
Review if you liked it! I'd love to hear any suggestions, cause I'm a newbie writer. :D
People who've Appeared in this Chapter (In Order):
Shirley (Level 70 Hermit) Age 13
Naomi (Level 165 Nightwalker) Age 17
Layla (Level 123 Fire/Poison Mage) Age 16
Cheryl (?) Age 17
