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*** Note I – A big thank you to those favoring, following and reviewing my fanfic; it really makes me happyyy~ =') You people are awesome, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter~! =D ***
*** Note II – Disclaimer: All canonical work is under the ownership of their respective creators. All fanworks posted are intended for personal, entertainment and non-commercial use. No copyright infringement is intended. *** I only own the following: My OCs, non-canon places; ideas, events, storylines and plots that are my own and not in the original canon; and, my imagination~ :3 ***
*** Note III – I kept forgetting to mention this in previous notes, but I just remembered, so here it goes: Regarding Emilia being able to see, understand and talk to the Rukh – as well as her being able to mentally communicate with her Djinn – despite not being a Magi . . . There's already a realistic reason that I've developed for it (well, as "realistic" as it can be considering this world's fantasy elements). I just haven't really mentioned anything in the narrative about it because it's honestly not that relevant until much later in the story. And it kinda involves Yunan, soooo . . . *smiles innocently* =3 ***
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~ 006 – The Random Surprise That Was Sinnie, Er, Sinbad ~
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"I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells."
~ Dr. Seuss
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"I am sorry, little one, but it seems as though the scar upon your throat shall forever remain."
"Not even your magic can . . . I'm shocked, Yunan. How can this be?"
"I don't know. It might perchance be because this is a wound that was inflicted unto you within a completely different world."
"And thus a constant reminder of how I even ended up in this mess. Huh, how utterly stupid!"
The very tips of her index and middle fingers ghosted over the simple golden choker wherein covered the ugly knife wound across her neck as the brief conversation with the Magi had floated into her subconscious absent any warning.
The melodies of the waves sang into Emilia's ears and the cool breeze caressed her body most welcomely. She sat along the rocky hills overlooking the dark waters; the soles of her boots digging into the sand of the beach, and the salty air wafting into her nostrils. The sun had sunk below the horizon sometime prior, and littering the sky were countless white stars emitting silvery glows atop the sea – a view that the girl could wholeheartedly appreciate, for she had not remembered a time on Earth where she was able to see such insanely clear night skies with that many stars first-handed.
Although Serendine had been most courteous, Emilia desired to spend some time away from what gradually felt like a 'pack of wolves'; and after stopping to rest for the night, she sneaked off to this location with her things in tow. She had her travel bag upon the sands in between her feet for Lërynia to get some fresh air, and her Metal Vessel was, once again, buckled to her back because she did not feel comfortable being without it for too long.
Turning her head, she took another gander towards distant firelight, where Serendine and her entourage had set up camp. She had not expected the royal to decide this as she was sure that Serendine would have taken Sahel's suggestion of travelling to the nearest settlement for a much more refined place of repose; however said settlement was further inland and, according to the princess, that would have added another half-day for their travels to Contastia Harbour.
She returned her gaze towards the sea, and Lërynia emerged from the distant darkness. "You know, for all of your excitement of wanting to cross the Great Rift, you're surprisingly shy with being present around others."
The faerie puffed out her cheeks in anxiousness. "Ne, but there's sooooo many humans; it's overwhelming!" she groused in sync with flailing her arms, and the girl noticed a leaf in one of her tiny hands. Where she had plucked that, Emilia had no idea.
"What's that for?" Leaving her travel bag on the ground, a smirking Emilia stood and proceeded to lackadaisically walk within the area before then stopping right by the shallow waters. The liquid occasionally lapped at the toes of her boots.
"Ne, my headache," Lërynia responded. "I'm going to get rid of it." Holding the leaf against her forehead, a golden glow proceeded to surround the bit of plant; and while some golden sparkling dust began to fall, the green leaf blackened and shrivelled and flittered to the ground. "All better!"
Emilia was amazed. "Well, that's neat. So, you faeries specialize in nature-related magic and healing?" Nearly forgetting about the Torran dagger hiding in her boot, she bent down and retrieved it, then shoving it through her belt by her left side.
"Yes!" came the other's mirthful response. "But since I'm only twelve, there's still a lot for me to learn. Aaaaand, we can communicate with animals."
"Oh? Can you control them, as well?"
"No . . ." A saddened pout marred Lërynia's face. She fluttered closer and sat by the crook of the girl's neck. "Controlling them is a bit of a 'rarity,' only one in maybe every twenty – or thirty? – of us can do it. It's not fair; I want to do it, too!"
Emilia tried her hand at consoling her. "You know, there's –"
"Do you enjoy talking to yourself?" came an entertained voice.
A sharp intake of breath had the girl coughing for a few seconds; and as soon as Lërynia shoved her own tiny body inside of the girl's tunic, Emilia turned half-way to see a confident-looking Serendine, whose hands rested at her hips. "Sometimes, the best company is oneself," Emilia responded airily with a humoured half-smile and a shrug.
The princess was amused. "I concur. Oh, is that your prize?" She gestured to the other's sword.
Lërynia's cold hands against the bare skin of the girl's upper back was a little distracting. "Yes; I don't feel comfortable with it being in another's hands, where it can be stolen." She cared not that her words might have insinuated that the royal was untrustworthy; and she spared a vague gander towards the other's thin, dark brown leather sword belt where a slender and curved sabre with a finely-polished golden hilt was sheathed into a smooth navy blue scabbard.
"Understandable." Sparing a brief glance behind Emilia, the royal's eyebrows rose and her lips stabilized at neither smile nor frown. "You've taken your bag with you . . ."
Knowing what she was hinting at, the Otherworlder nonchalantly crossed her arms over her abdomen. "Well, my sketchbook and lead are in there. I wanted to draw for a bit until the sun went down."
"I see." Serendine's eyes seemed to be scrutinizing her, probably for some slip-up of speech. Did the princess already have an inkling towards her, that not all of her words that were expressed within the wheelhouse were completely true? That she was hiding something?
Taking a few steps forward with her pupils focusing towards the sea, Serendine stopped by the shallow waters, a few feet away from Emilia's side. Armoured, golden high-heeled boots covered her legs up to just near her mid-thighs. Encircling her torso was somewhat of a low-cut golden breastplate that only came down to her waist, and a large black spider with long and scraggly legs was embossed across the front. Underneath that was a finely-tailored and formfitting white tunic with a high collar wherein came down to her upper hips – it was buttoned at the top yet left open below the breastplate – and it owned short, puffed sleeves that were cuffed around the middle of her upper arms; and, beneath that, there was a second formfitting white tunic that trailed down to her upper thighs. This one was buttoned all of the way down and was utterly sheer, and clasped against her collarbones in gold was a long and violet cloak. Withal, her bottom was donned in nothing but an armoured, golden thong. Thong?
Wait, what? How is that even comfortable? HOW?
Feeling a sudden perplexity for some reason, Emilia strangely rose a brow, but then her face relaxed. A thought claimed her mind: Should she attempt to deter the princess from arriving at Contastia Harbour? Not that it would truly matter, anyways, because Sinbad will manage to escape perfectly alright. She caught sight of Sahel and Tamira from a distance, who looked to be keeping watch over the royal.
"Your Highness," the Otherworlder began amicably when she turned to face the older girl. "I hear that you plan to kill this 'Sinbad' boy as an example for stealing the Dungeon's power and treasures."
Alarmed for but a moment, Serendine sharply turned to face the other. "And where have you heard that?"
She shrugged nonchalantly. "I overheard your soldiers – they weren't exactly whispering it, you know."
"Of course." Although the princess' body relaxed, she let out an exasperated sigh. "You'll stay in the carriage once we reach Contastia; I will not have outsiders involved."
"Fair enough, Princess," said Emilia in a collected tone, and her ice-blue eyes glinted with a hint of slyness. "Only, killing the Dungeon Conqueror will immediately have the Djinn and its' power return to its' belonged Dungeon, and who knows if Baal's tower will reappear? What if another Dungeon doesn't rise within these lands until a year or five years from now?"
"Oh, is that so?" Frowning and very displeased, the royal's pupils studied her visage. "You seem to know what you're talking about."
"All tales from my magician friend, I assure you. He's very old and has been in a few of these things long ago."
The noble's tone proceeded to morph into an annoyingly supercilious one. "Humph. Then I will reclaim the item holding the Dungeon's power; drag the peasant back to Csitephon, and have him chained within our dungeons."
"Not possible." Brows rising, Emilia's lips nearly twitched upwards in distaste. "Only those who've conquered a Dungeon are able to wield its' power."
"Then he must be forced by any means necessary!" With an arrogant huff, Serendine planted her hands upon her hips. "This power belongs to the Parthevia Empire, not in the hands of some lowborn defector! It has to be used for us to gain advantage over Reim; for us to become the greatest empire known to human history, and all citizens are obligated to sacrifice themselves and offer up all of their resources for their country's war effort. And speaking of that, I do hope that I find that ice magician – they have a duty to utilize their abilities for our military –"
"Pathetic."
With disappointed eyes and a ghost of an incredulous frown, Emilia held a rather serene face. She was not fully aware that she had uttered that word until an affronted Serendine suddenly glared upon her in absolute lividness, but the princess' prior cutting words had Emilia's mind trail back to that devastated little boy from that port town and she could not handle them any longer.
"What did you refer to me as?" the royal seethed; her scowl intensifying.
Nearly snorting out a quick laugh, Emilia forced an apologetic half-smile. "Oh, I'm sorry!" She took a couple of steps back and waved her hands in mock-surrender. "I really do appreciate your offer of helping me to get back home, but I think I'll find my own way out –"
"You will do no such thing! And you greatly step out of line by calling me that – I should have you in chains!"
"Not you, Princess, your attitude. Very unaware of the realities of your common folk, especially those beyond the capital . . . Ah, well, 'ignorance is bliss' as the saying goes, I guess? I'd imagine that it would probably feel nice to be able to have the luxury to only really care about your own little bubble and the few within it."
"You speak out of turn, foreigner." To say that Serendine was offended would have been an understatement. She flushed scarlet in sensitive anger because she could not believe that she was being rebuked in such a way. "The people are the Empire's greatest resources; ergo, they must be utilized to their utmost capabilities, especially in times of war."
The Otherworlder smirked in aversion, and she took another two steps back. "They're the ones who make a country a country and by draining them dry, you are destroying your own nation from within. The people are to be valued and respected; they are not tools to utilize by one's whim and then be tossed aside once 'defective.' How you don't seem to be fully aware of this is shocking – war is expensive in all aspects, you know! You can't just do what you want."
"What utter nonsense! The people are meant to devote themselves completely to their Emperor. It is simply the way." The royal's body vaguely shook in incense, and the stark look of chagrin shrouded her countenance.
"It goes both ways, kiddo: The people to their leader, and their leader to them. Honestly, I would not be surprised if a good portion of them somehow find a way to leave Parthevia."
"Then they are traitors to the Empire!"
Emilia had the audacity to procure a cavalier shrug. "Can't be much of a betrayal if said glorious Empire betrays the people and their trust, first," she said airily and tiredly as she turned and began to walk towards where her travel bag was laid.
"Oh . . . I see it, now." Although Serendine's voice eerily became calm, it was filled with contempt and bile. Biting her lip, the younger girl suddenly ceased her movements, for the near-delicate song of metal was heard.
The blade is poisoned, the Rukh warned. The blade is poisoned . . .
"Your words just now merely confirmed my recent suspicions of you."
Gazing up at the stars for but a moment, Emilia cursed beneath her breath. "I doubt you have to go that far." Turning again, her eyes darted from the silvery sheen of the royal's sabre and towards the handmaidens from the distance.
"I must; I have now deemed you a threat. I shall put you under arrest for being a spy from Reim; one who plans on taking advantage of the people by planting lies within their heads, inciting rebellion against the Empire and– no. No!" Serendine's bitter smirk morphed into a gasp of outrage. "How– no, why do you look at me like that? How dare hold those eyes of pity towards me!"
It was as if the Otherworlder was gazing upon a sad little kitten; weak and injured and alone, and the princess despised that look.
Anxious, irritated, yet also strangely tranquil all of a sudden, Emilia ran a hand through her hair whilst releasing a brief, light titter. "Oh, I am sorry, Princess, but it's because I do! I can't help it, I really do feel sorry for you."
In hindsight, she realized that her tone probably sounded like a mocking one, but she had honestly not intended for it to be this way. Emilia nearly cursed her inability to maintain a closed mouth, but she knew that after uttering "Pathetic," there would be no return. Just . . . What exactly made the princess like this? What was the manner of her past education? Was she really that ignorant, or was she dealing with certain things in secret? Was she somehow being prevented from learning or accomplishing certain things, which probably would have added to her inability to acknowledge the true damage that was being done to the common people? Did she merely prefer the battlefield and enjoyed "playing war?" Was she really that insanely steadfast and loyal towards the Parthevia Empire and its' way of accomplishing tasks? Was her extreme love for her father, the country's emperor, blinding her that much?
Upon all of the things considered good in this world, Emilia, whose lips now relaxed into a gentle frown, truly pitied the youth. She tried shoving her judgemental thoughts towards the back of her mind. Sighing inaudibly, she shook her head thrice. "I'm sorry. I won't say anymore; please disregard my prior words." There's just no point.
Serendine's half-smile was smug and her eyes shined with derision. "It is pleasing to see you acknowledge that I am the one who's in the right, as expected. I do not need a pacifist preaching to me about trivial matters."
"You mistake my words, as expected." Emilia smiled in a half-impish, half-unimpressed fashion. "I'm definitely no pacifist . . . But I am not a warmonger, or a jingoist, either."
Smile drooping into a loathing scowl, the royal's grip around her sword tightened. "Do not take another step back – I'm imprisoning you, don't you recall?"
"That I do." Emilia rose her hands with her palms facing forward. "But I'm not a Reiman spy set out to do all of those things that you've gone on about, so how about I just quietly leave and find my own way out of this country?"
"No. I don't believe you." Serendine gestured with her sword towards the side and in the direction of the camp. "You will be coming with me right now."
Eyeing the poisoned sabre, the girl had her palms lightly rest against the crown of her head. "You're not calling for your attendants to aid you?" She took one step back. I'd rather not, but . . .
The royal took one step forward; her boot splashing into the shallow bit of the beach. "I don't see how I would be unable to take you. I have had only the best training, after all."
Blah, blah, blah; yeah, well I had a Tio!
Emilia managed to unsheathe her elven blade just in time to block a complacent Serendine's quick thrust, the latter then recoiling immediately whilst bringing her arm up again. The girl parried it with ease. Resembling exquisite diamonds in the moonlight, grains of sand flew upwards when Emilia rose her right leg to deliver a swift kick into the other's lower exposed abdomen, yet the swifter royal twirled around her; water splashing here and there as she brought forth her sabre for the umpteenth time. Pivoting in a panic, the obsidian black blade prevented the steely sword's course; but Serendine had caught Emilia in an awkward position and, expertly, the former made a strong flick of her forearm and wrist, which forced the latter's Metal Vessel to be thrown away behind her.
I'm sorry, Tio. A deadpanned yet wide-eyed and embarrassed Emilia could have sworn that, for the briefest of seconds, she had just heard the Torran warrior's deep and judgemental voice teasing her with his usual, "Silly girl's."
Relaxing in her stance, a very satisfied "Huh" emitted from the back of Serendine's throat. As soon as she opened her mouth, however, she noticed something rapidly zap out from the back of the younger girl's dark lavender tunic; and then a blur of pink and black with a high-pitched voice dashed into her face and around her head, and Serendine wildly twisted her head and body around whilst wondering why that blur somehow looked like an insanely tiny human. Footsteps neared her . . .
Absent any warning, a subtle Emilia unexpectedly stomping onto her violet cloak and briefly pinning her to the beach had Serendine violently jerk to the side. Due to that and the fact that her armoured boots also owned rather high heels, she nearly tripped, but then she gasped as soon as she felt a knee suddenly dig into her stomach, just underneath her breastplate. Being so rudely thrown into the sands, she managed to hear Emilia's chastising words of, "Next time don't wear a stupidly long cloak during a fight!"
"You will be thoroughly punished for treating an Imperial Princess like this, you filthy spy!" the infuriated princess roared in sync with rising to her knees; realizing that the foreigner was running away and that her sabre had already been kicked off thirty feet from her. Growling, she stood and scurried towards it.
Regaining her bearings and poise, her peripheral caught movement to her near-distant left. "No Sahel, Tamira! I don't need assistance in subjugating this little girl!"
Even though said 'little girl' was two inches taller than her.
Serendine charged, and what she found very bewildering was the sudden gush of unnaturally freezing wind. She noticed that the foreigner's weapon had already been retrieved and that her travel bag was slung across her torso; and, strangely enough, she stood by the shallow ends of the waters with the point of her sword dipping into the liquid. An odd, little human with wings was also perched upon the younger's head.
At fifteen feet away, Serendine vaguely heard Emilia uttering a peculiar, foreign-sounding name. Or was it a word? With a sudden bit of fear, the princess came to an instant halt, for emerging from the vast seas was a forming wall of deep yet bright blue ice; beautiful yet terrifying; thick and at least thirty feet high, and it slithered across the beach and into the Parthevian landscapes, severing her and her entire guard from the foreigner's side of the land.
Enraged, Serendine's teeth clenched. "No, no, no; what is this?! ARE YOU THE ICE MAGICIAN, THEN?!" Sparing a quick glance to her right into the deep seas, she then turned around again to her left so as to scrutinize just how far this ice wall was extended.
"I don't see an end to it, Your Highness!" Tamira observed when she finally arrived by her lady's side. "It must have gone on for several miles –"
The ice suddenly procured a rather menacing groan and, promptly, spears of ice shot out uncontrollably from underneath the wall; from beneath the sands, and Serendine knew that Sahel had caught up to them from behind due to a pale golden borg abruptly surrounding them – though, it turned out that the borg was not necessary because none of the spikes had specifically aimed towards the trio. She could hear her soldiers clamouring about.
With the most hate-filled glower she could muster, Serendine faced the ice wall. This was, indeed, most humiliating.
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"Oh, thank you . . . Tio . . . For . . . Drilling me . . . With . . . All of that . . . Damn . . . Endurance training!" a sweaty Emilia huffed and puffed and collapsed onto her front upon some grassy lands by the beach, somewhat close by to a vast bed of reeds and some tall, sandy hills in the distance.
How inelegant, merely throwing yourself down akin to a mongrel toddler, judged an unimpressed yet smirking Mephisto.
"Oh, shut up!" she groused. "I'm doing all of the work, here!" She winced. "Oh, my head . . ."
"Ne, Emi, what's wrong?" Lërynia fluttered from out of the girl's travel bag with concern swirling within her silvery eyes.
"I've this really bad headache – that may just be a migraine beginning to form – and my head feels really foggy."
"'Foggy?' What do you mean?"
"Hard to explain, but, you know when you don't sleep at all and it feels like your mind is out of focus and is unable to think properly, and it kind of messes around with your vision? Foggy?"
"Oh! I'll be right back, then!" The determined faerie instantly made a beeline towards the bed of green reeds.
Rising for the quickest of desperate moments, Emilia removed her travel bag and sword belt for comfort and rolled back down to, this time, her back; inwardly revelling at finally being able to settle down after what felt like forever. Since raising that enormous ice wall (by accident, mind you), she had spent the entire night alternating between running, jogging and walking so as to get as far away as she could from Serendine and her entourage. Just how long did said wall stretch out to? It seemed quite lengthy, but she doubted that it had gone on for as far as towards other side of the country . . . A mere few miles, perhaps. She reckoned that it probably would have stalled the Parthevian princess for half of a day, or even a full day.
The skies were a watercolour palate of pure orange-gold, blinding golden yellow, and this bruising purplish blue colour. Feeling like something in her brain snapped, Emilia groaned rather pathetically. "Mmmm, I want my bed. I want a nice, long bath; some chocolate and a bottle of rosé and vodka; to travel in a car or plane, and to have much easier access to food and drink! I want to return to my job as an accountant in my fabulously air-conditioned office, and I just need a damn modern toilet with some fucking toilet paper! Enough of this shitting in the open or in those ancient equivalent of 'toilets,' and then using leaves. Bullshite!"
Amidst her dramatics upon the ground, she felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes, yet she blinked them away and shut her eyelids. Get me Yamraiha's genius self in the future to modernize this bathrooming crap!
Having been hovering around her mindscape for the entire time, Mephisto was temporarily rendered speechless. Though he would have normally chastised someone for behaving in such a crass manner (and he was very curious in regards to what these "cars," "vodkas" and other stuff were), he could not bring himself to do as such for he greatly understood the feeling of homesickness, especially when said homesickness derived from being forced or ripped away rather than leaving by choice.
All will be well, little King. You will acclimate to it as the months turn into years and so forth, he murmured calmly before having his consciousness retrieve from her mind and into the Metal Vessel.
"Ne, Emi, I'm baaaack!" a jubilant Lërynia exclaimed when she returned with an armful of reeds.
Maintaining closed eyes, the aforementioned youth procured a miniscule smile whilst she began to drift into a slumber. In no time, she felt the faerie place a myriad of reeds all over her forehead and head; a vague glow soon emitting and this cozy, warm tranquil sensation caressed her mind. Although still feeling exhausted, her head ceased its' pounding and she fell asleep after managing a soft, little "Thank you."
Lërynia did not know what to do except to wait for Emilia to wake up, and so after tossing the blackened and shrivelled reeds away, she merely contented herself with sitting by the right side of the girl's face, her back leaning against the other's cheek. She fiddled around with a couple of the unused reeds, as well as the other's hair.
An hour zoomed by, and the skies were now developing a more pronounced light blue colour. It was a spur-of-the-moment type of thing wherein brought Lërynia beyond the Great Rift and into this part of the world – she did not entirely know why, but she had always owned this deep-seated wanderlust within her and her curiosity had definitely consumed her being. Her family (and the majority of the faeries) were adamant in their pursuits to dissuade her from acting upon her desires to leave their land of everlasting peace, yet there were a handful of her brethren who encouraged her; in fact, they had also been looking forward to having their own adventures around the other side of world. As expected, however, the only problem was that traversing across the Great Rift's barrier was practically impossible for almost every single individual to do . . . Unless they borrowed the assistance from one of few who had the ability do so as such. Yunan was able to do it, and Lërynia saw her chance when he appeared within her home with Emilia by his side.
Another hour passed. Perchance two; the faerie had not cared to keep track, but it did feel like a bit of a while. Suddenly hearing a couple of children in the distance, she stood up on alert with her brows lowering in confusion. Was there a village nearby? Using Emilia's slumbering body as a hiding place, the faerie peered over and noticed two children frivolously playing with sticks at the top of one of those hills; at least, they had been until they stared over at Emilia's body, to which they then shrieked and instantly scuttled away – most likely to alert someone of more mature mind.
"Emi, Emi, Emi, Emi, Emi; wake up!" the humanoid hollered and pinched Emilia's cheeks to no avail. Grabbing one of the unused reeds, she rose her arm and tickled beneath the girl's chin, but no results were produced once again.
"Mmmm, blueberry cheesecake . . ." Emilia moaned in her sleep, to which the faerie rolled her eyes in half-panic, half-exasperation.
And then a figure with a curious, pondering expression upon his visage emerged from the top of the hill, a boy with tan skin, somewhat thick eyebrows and who looked to be fourteen years old. Akin to a kitten, Lërynia pressed herself tightly against the crook of Emilia's neck whilst she scrutinized the boy, who was sauntering down the hill and towards them: Dressed in white with a teensy bit of blue below his collarbones, a long white sash was wrapped snugly around his waist, knotted at the front. Large yet slender gold hoop earrings were pierced through his earlobes. Simple flat black shoes with a bit of a point and upwards curl fitted his feet, and what donned his legs were a pair of purple sirwal half-trousers in which gathered to just below his knees. A thin, brown leather sword belt was wrapped around his upper hips, and by his left side hung a scimitar with a dark azure blue grip and cross-guard – owning strips of gold embedded into and around them – and it was sheathed into a smooth and black scabbard that had also owned some embedded golden strips along both ends of it.
Subtle confusion touched the boy's features when the mark upon his sword proceeded to glow for five seconds, but he paid no real attention to it and just merely brushed it off as he continued to approach the girl's sleeping body.
Lërynia tilted her head to the side. That symbol that had just glowed was identical to Emilia's . . . Was this boy that same Dungeon Conqueror who was praised by the townspeople from the past few settlements she and Emilia had travelled through?
"Yunan? No . . ." Now standing by Emilia's form, the startled youth scratched at his head. "No, Yunan's not a girl."
The faerie pouted at the mention of Yunan. He knows that meanie?
His slightly long fringe was vaguely parted on his left. The shorter layers of his straight and shiny hair fell around his head with the faintly longer strands touching along his neck, and the lengthier portions were tied in slim white cloth by the nape of his neck; his ponytail trailing all of the down to roughly the backs of his knees, maybe even an inch or two past them. "A traveller, then!" the boy's voice sounded again, and Lërynia noticed that his eyes seemed to have lit up considerably at the "traveller" word. Lowering to his knees by the girl's head, he brought a hand up to grab her shoulder to hopefully shake her awake, but what he had not realized was that Lërynia was hiding right by there –
"Ow! What?!" He recoiled his hand and gently rubbed at the backs of it, for the faerie had grabbed a spare reed and used it as a whip against his hand.
"No touching!" she commanded with as much ferocity as she could, and she fluttered up into the air. It did not work, however, she was too tiny and cute.
The boy gaped; he was too amazed for the moment. "What are you? I've never seen anything like you before!"
"Ne, I'm a faerie!" the humanoid exclaimed with a proud, puffed up chest. "I wouldn't be surprised, we are a secretive group, after all."
"Fascinating," he breathed out in awe whilst he stared at her translucent, white butterfly-like wings; eager to eventually know more. He glanced down at Emilia's face. "But, you know, it's not good to be sleeping out here like this." Raising his hand, he was then forced to abruptly pull back due to the faerie whipping at his hand again with that reed. She had thankfully missed this time – that first assault had really stung.
"I said, 'No touching!'" Her cheeks were puffed out in stubbornness.
"Alright, alright; I humbly surrender," the boy conceded with an entertained half-smirk.
A soft moan was then heard emitting from the back of the foreigner's throat, and Emilia stretched out her arms behind her head. A "blob" of dark purple hair consumed her blurred vision when she had first opened her eyelids. The second time they opened, they were more focused, and her pupils met these deep, rich and warm swirling pools of gold and amber.
Well, if it isn't the future Philanderer of the Seven Seas . . . Hold on.
Blinking twice in incredulousness, her eyelids were opened so wide that the lukewarm breeze was already stinging her eyes.
The Parthevian chuckled and smiled. "Don't be shocked; I am not here to do anything to you. But really, you shouldn't be lying down in the open like this."
Emilia maintained her strange stare. Oh my god, it's this kid.
"You know, considering that this country is being torn by war –" He took her left hand in both of his, oh, so tenderly. "– I never would have expected to cross paths with a lovely foreign girl, here."
Oho, I know what you're trying to do there, Mister Flirt.
"I'm Sinbad. May I have your name?"
Her faced relaxed and Lërynia's voice barged in: "Ne, so, you are that 'Sinbad' person everyone's talking about!"
He was a bit smug for a moment at that sudden mention. "The one and only. And you are?"
"Lërynia!" the magical being introduced with a tone so mirthful, that her previous protective irate attitude was nothing more than a distant memory.
Slowly pulling her hand out from his, Emilia rose into a sitting position. "Where did you come from? Is there a village nearby?" she queried whilst promptly buckling her sword belt across her torso; and, for a second, her pupils were drawn to the top of the older boy's head, where a lengthy cowlick bounced around nearly every time that he moved his head. She wondered how it was even possible for that random bit of hair to just stick up for some mysterious, gravity-defying reason unknown to all living creatures.
Sinbad held a welcoming smile, and he jabbed a thumb behind him. "Just down those hills lie Tison Village."
"Is there an inn there?"
"My village does not have one, being a bit of a small one. For that, you'll have to travel to Contastia Harbour – it's not too far away; by the time you reach it, you will still have many hours to the day before nightfall."
Good. I really need sleep. And a proper meal. She procured a smile. "Thank you for letting us know," she said amiably.
"It is not a problem." Ladies in distress simply did not do for Sinbad. Although ridiculously curious about this new foreigner and her faerie companion, the boy ultimately decided to rein in his questions since the girl looked absolutely tired. She even had dark circles beneath her eyes, and both of her sclera were red. Another time, then. He wasted no time in standing right back up. "Come, I'll show you to the road."
The Otherworlder followed suit; lifting her travel bag and slinging it across her shoulders. Gathering spare reeds, Lërynia shoved the greenery into the bag. "Just in case we need it." She then fluttered towards Sinbad, seeming a bit ashamed. "Ne . . . I'm sorry about whipping your hands like that."
Humour swirled within his eyes, and he flashed her a charming grin. "I'm not bothered by it. It is only natural to protect a friend, after all."
…
The early morning sun blazed ever so brightly. Having left Tison Village thirty minutes prior, Emilia was sauntering along the wide and lengthy dirt road that was apparently supposed to lead her right into Contastia Harbour. An impish Sinbad was suspiciously with her, as well – he mentioned something about having to "do this thing" at Contastia, but the girl was unable to discern whether that was actually true or not. Still, Lërynia was most definitely not opposed to the company. The normally shy-around-others faerie was perched upon her shoulder; facing behind Emilia, and her tiny feet were lightly kicking against the girl's shoulder while she chatted animatedly to Sinbad, who leisurely walked a few feet behind Emilia.
The Otherworlder did not know what they were talking about; she heard the sounds of their voices, yet she could barely make out most of their conversation due to being consumed with her own thoughts, as well as being quite sleepy and rather out of her proper focus. Hmmm . . . A lone traveller with a dark sword along their back and a faerie companion; hehehe, I could pretend to be Guts from Berserk! No, wait, Ciri from The Witcher is much more fitting: We've got the somewhat slender swords across our backs; I'm already dressed in very similar fashion to her, and we both have some albinism. She inwardly cackled. Yes, I could definitely cosplay as Ciri!
Mephisto's obnoxious yawn barged into her subconscious absent any warning and that had Emilia roll her eyes in annoyance. What are you blabbering about, mongrel? he demanded imperiously.
Fictional characters from stories from back home. Hmm, now that you're back in my head again, there's something I want to ask you.
You may freely ask what you wish to know.
His response relieved her. Good. I just recalled that, in your Dungeon, you mentioned that your main elements were ice and fire. But how come I've only been able to utilize the ice?
That fact merely demonstrates that you and your Magoi have an affinity for ice magic, and so it will take a little longer for your Magoi to obtain a familiar seeding with fire. Additionally, my very first mongrel King's affinity was with fire, and so he underwent much training in order to learn how to utilize the ice.
I see . . . "Affinity for ice magic," is it? So, if I ended up coming to this world as a magician, then does that mean that I most likely would have become a blue magician?
With an ice specialty, yes.
Puzzlement touched Emilia and she pouted. But how can it be that it'll take me longer in order to unlock even a tiny bit of your fire capabilities? It isn't like this with anyone else!
That is simply because I am a very powerful Djinn, being an old magician and swordsman from Alma Torran, Mephisto answered so very nonchalantly yet matter-of-factly, which made Emilia smirk. If you had captured Cerberus, for example; a Djinn with ice, fire and lightening capabilities, you shan't have much of a problem being able to control all three of the elements within a shorter period of time. She is a strong one, yes, but Cerberus is not me. Completely mastering my capabilities will take years, lest you die early.
She found this information to be most helpful; and before she could respond, her haughty Djinn continued: Although I informed you that my first mongrel King had undergone much practice for the ice magic, I should inform you that he was able to control the fire with greater ease than you. I daresay that this is because you are from a different world; ergo, it does indeed make sense as to why your Magoi is surprisingly destructive.
And is also why the ice goes weird and all haywire every time that I use it, at least, for now. Hm. Intriguing . . .
Indeed. Pausing, Mephisto procured a thoughtful hum. I sense Baal.
That's because Baal is right behind me.
I dearly wish to greet him, yet you had mentioned that a part of this country's government is in league with Al-Thamen – it will be wise for no one here to know of your status as a Dungeon Conqueror. You were only lucky that the pompous mongrel princess deemed you a simple magician after your entertaining stunt.
Emilia held in a giggle. Thank you for acknowledging the situation. Haha, I never would have thought that you were this understanding!
Child, my wondrous magnanimity only extends so far. Do not test it, came his arrogant voice.
Yes, O Djinn of All, she mentally uttered with an impish flippancy.
I want to see Baal's King. Emilia felt Mephisto's consciousness push further into the forefront of hers. And then he laughed boisterously. Oh, the child resembles Focalor when he was much younger!
Such a comment amused her at the thought of the Womanizer Djinn being in the hands of the Womanizer King. And he'll look even more like Focalor once he becomes an adult.
Ha! I look forward to seeing that– oh. Oh, no. By David's flaccid cock; what is this?!
Coughing out a brief laugh, she awkwardly rose her brows; unsure of what to think. Wait, what?
Apologizes for my inelegance – I do like to make fun of him from time to time, especially when unsettled. But, little King, why must you do this to me?
This would have to be the first time wherein Emilia felt legitimate consternation and fear oozing off from her overly confident and poised Djinn. I'm sorry; I don't follow?
This cur is a damn Singularity. How reassuring, Mephisto harshly spat with a sardonic undertone.
Well, yes, he is –
Do you not understand, child?! David was the only living being that I know of who was able to discern the future; lo and behold, hundreds of years later, I meet you: Someone who knows the future. Subsequently, David was the only First-Class Singularity wherein I am aware of, yet there is another one right behind you. What comes next, do I dare wonder? Can Baal's King also read Destiny's paths?
For the most part, yes; but not to the point David reached of actually seeing snippets of the future.
Mephisto growled. What is this blatant fuckery? These tasteless jests go too far! How dare I be played in such a way?! Yunan must answer for this!
Emilia scowled. Well how do you think I feel, you insufferable ass?! Being saddled with a Djinn who looks like David himself and who isn't one of the original Seventy-Two – I should be the one feeling afraid, here!
Silence blanketed her extremely agitated Djinn, and she could feel his anger waning only a little. Humph. Fare thee well, little King. And his presence left her mindscape.
"Good riddance," she muttered in irritancy.
"– cutie!"
Ceasing in her tracks, Emilia brought up a hand to fan herself from the heat, and she turned to her right where Sinbad stood thirty feet away from her. Lërynia was perched upon the dark hair of his head. "What?"
Sinbad smiled mischievously. "Little cutie, just where are you going?!" he called out. "'No, thank you; I can just follow this road since you said that it'll take me right to Contastia,' was what you told me back in Tison, didn't you?"
Scrutinizing her surroundings, she realized that she had drifted from the road and was in some random patch of grass. Jogging over to him, she blushed sheepishly and attempted to save face: "No matter! I would have realized it soon enough, anyways."
"Sure you would." Eyeing her teasingly, he turned and continued walking once Emilia reached his side.
"And don't call me 'little cutie'; I'm one inch taller than you."
Daring to gaze at her in the most innocent and boyish of ways, he procured a casual shrug. "Yes, but you look younger. Are you twelve?"
"Thirteen," she pressed. Holding an unimpressed face, her eyes twitched, and then she felt a gentle tug against the side of her head.
"Oh, wow," Sinbad murmured curiously as he took a lock of her hair within his left hand and brought it up to his inspecting face. "And here I'd thought that this magician who was with me a few days ago owned the lightest hair I've ever seen. No, yours is a pure white and you're only a year younger than I!"
"Stop that." Emilia shook her head and pulled that tendril of hair away from him; albeit, she had to admit that he did kind of look adorable when he was in his curious mode. She smirked. "What? You haven't met someone with a bit of albinism before?"
He blinked. "No, what is that?"
…
Like Tison Village yet unlike the previous settlements before it, the large and bustling Contastia Harbour was filled with people who smiled more and who did not seem as burdened. Not to mention that there was not a single soldier in sight and . . . Wait, were those ships in the far distance by the port? Questioning Sinbad about this, the boy revealed that he had offered up all of the treasures from his Dungeon escapade for the people of his village and this neighboring harbour city so as to help them properly work with the proper tools in order to build up their way of living and hopefully survive the war and its' effects.
Absentmindedly, a soft smile made its' way across the girl's lips. "That is very compassionate of you."
Cinnamon, coriander, grounded dried rose petals, saffron and a plethora of other wonderful spices wafted into their nostrils when they meandered between a few people and passed by a spice shop. Sinbad mirrored her smile, yet his eyes displayed deep thought. "It is not right for the people to suffer due to the government's greed . . . I wanted to help them as much as I could. Ah, here we are! This isn't one of those expensive inns, so you don't have to worry too much about money for this one, but it is a great place."
They stood before a two-story, golden brown mudbrick building that had some dark red-and-blue paint, which was chipped and worn from the passing of years. Emilia covered her mouth when she yawned. "Thank you for your assistance; it was much appreciated."
He playfully winked. "Anything for a lady in need."
A couple of pretty young women – who were probably around eighteen or nineteen years old – casually passed by with woven baskets filled with vegetables and fruits, and Emilia could not help but roll her eyes and smirk in amusement when Sinbad's pupils trailed after them with a near-cocky half-smile gracing his mouth. "By the way," she spoke up, "the government's coming after you."
The boy chuckled joylessly. "Yes, they desire what was 'stolen' from them. I've been meaning to leave the country for the time being, but I haven't yet because I wanted to help my fellow citizens with rebuilding these lands –"
"No, I mean an important member of royalty and their entourage of soldiers are literally coming for you."
Lips stabilizing at neither smile nor frown, Sinbad's eyelids widened in slight trepidation. "You have seen them? How long before they arrive?"
She pondered for a moment. Depends on how far that ice wall went on for . . . "Tomorrow, maybe even the next day? Though, I think that it's better for you to leave as soon as possible."
He cocked his head to the side in suspicion. "You've seen them yet you're on foot, and you say that they will not be arriving today?"
Procuring a confident half-smile, Emilia loosely crossed her arms. "They ran into some renegade ice magician!"
Golden amber eyes acknowledged her words with amusement. "Well, that will give me enough time to pack. Thank you for your warning, little cutie," he drawled out those final two words in a smooth singsong before turning and proceeding to saunter away with a vague little bounce in his steps.
"That's 'Emilia' to you!" Huffing with a pout and glare, the girl wasted no time in rushing into the simplistic inn. Upon entering, she realized that this was not just an inn, but one of those more casual places where it was also a tavern for the general public. There were a handful of people sitting upon simple seats by wooden tables; eating, and her mouth salivated. Avoiding stares and moving further in, she turned to her right towards somewhat of a lengthy counter and sat upon a wooden stool while lifting her travel bag from her body and placing it atop the floor beside said stool. A waitress hurried past her with her arms filled.
"Hello, sir, do you have any wine?" she queried of an older gentleman whom sauntered over to her from behind the counter; dressed in dark blue-and-white robes, and his black beard was touched with silver-grey strands.
Bamboozled and incredulous, the innkeeper peered at her with insanely stern eyes. "You are thirteen," he stated with a deadpan and crossed arms.
Someone finally guesses my age correctly! Emilia glanced behind him at some of the bottles and kegs of alcohol. She desired a drink so very badly – not only due to the stress of recent events, but also because she had not indulged herself with a lovely glass in months, since the day before she was killed on Earth. Despising alcohol, Yunan did not own even one little bottle; and throughout her stay with the Torran Peoples, Tio would make sure that she was not given any. She blinked innocently and shrugged. "It's just one of those days, well, mornings. You know how it is, don't you?"
A judgemental silence from the man consumed the air between them.
Folding her arms along the counter, a bead of sweat formed along her left temple. "I mean, well, does it really matter? Wine costs more, so it's technically a good deal on your end."
"And I am a responsible business owner." Pivoting to his right abruptly, he walked further from Emilia, to which she pouted for the nth time and rested her forehead against her arms. After a couple of minutes, her ears discerned a sloshing sound, and as footsteps neared once more, the scent of sweet lemon filled her nostrils.
"For you, little miss."
Raising her head upon hearing a little thud by it, she saw a large flagon; and peering inside of it, she noticed water with slices of lemon and cucumber. "Oh, thank you."
"You are welcome," said the innkeeper with a brow raised with concern. "Where are your parents?"
She swallowed some of that refreshing water. "Back home. I've ended up in Parthevia by accident and I have been trying to find a way out."
"A sound decision. New ships and boats were recently procured for us – you can easily find one suitable for escape. Will you be staying for the night?"
"Yes, I plan on leaving tomorrow morning."
"Good." This odd sense of relief washed over him, for he would hate to witness a child succumb to war and its' effects. "I shall return with your meal. Do you have any requests?"
Emilia smiled. "Nope, I'm good with anything . . . Except meat, but I'm fine with fish. Also, you have bathing services here, right?"
The innkeeper eyed her garb. "And laundry services, but it will cost you a little extra."
A sudden comfort washed over her at hearing that. "That's fine! And could you please ask for two meals instead of one?"
Upon her question, he saw a very tiny humanoid with wings appear from under the counter and he gaped rather dramatically.
…
Shoving her damp hair behind her and wearing nothing but a fresh pair of underwear and her long and baggy night-tunic, Emilia collapsed face-first upon a bed with sheets that were white and a pale, creamy yellow. "Mmmmm, this feels soooo good!" she exclaimed with joy into the pillow; absolutely elated about sleeping on a bed, as well as relishing in the wonderful sensation of just having taken a bath for the first time in days, since the night prior leaving Yunan's abode. The innkeeper's daughter (who worked for him) had already taken her clothes, undergarments and handkerchief for washing. Even her boots for polishing.
Fluttering around the small yet cozy room, Lërynia puffed out her cheeks with a funny look within her eyes. "Ne . . . It's only the afternoon."
The girl shifted her head. "Yes, I need to catch up on a lot of sleep!" Sitting up for a moment, she retrieved the Torran dagger by its' sheath from the nightstand and then laid back down while holding the weapon by her chest.
A surprised gasp from Lërynia pierced the air. "Ne, Emi, I've finally got it!"
Being so tired, Emilia was already on the verge of falling asleep. "Got what?"
"Your riddle about the golden treasure being hidden inside of that box without any openings – the answer is an egg!" With her eyes bulging in excitement, the faerie creepily stared at the other, desperate for the final verdict.
The girl chuckled. "Correct!"
.
.
It was mostly dark when Emilia rose from her long and deep sleep. And a little more chilly than usual; though, it did not take long to find out why: None of the sheets covered her. Beside her upon the mattress was Lërynia, sleeping, and the entirety of the sheets were all piled atop her tiny body akin to the swirl of a snail's shell.
She held a blank face with exasperation gleaming within her eyes. "You have actually got to be shitting me right now . . ."
Abruptly leaving her bed caused her lower abdomen and groin region to develop a sudden discomfort. Ignoring it, she sauntered towards the opened window; realizing that she had indeed slept through the remainder of yesterday, as well as the entire night and most of the early morning. Though it was mainly a deep, dark blue outside, there were orange and yellow-golden portions within the sky that were beginning to form.
Her eyes discerned some of the Rukh hither and thither, chirping out nonsensical things. And then a lone black Rukh fluttered in and, suddenly pitying it, Emilia rose her hand to her eye-level, to which said ethereal black bird landed upon. An unsure yet soft smile graced her features. Having only read the Magi: Labyrinth of Magic manga only once, she could not remember everything about the creation of the Rukh system . . . However, she believed it to be beyond utterly asinine at the fact that the black Rukh were unable to be a part of the Great Flow, as well those who Fall were not able to "un-Fall." If white can turn black, then surely black can eventually morph back into white again? People's spirits who lose to depravity, despair and others of that ilk do not maintain that way forever. Sure, some people may die with such devastating things, but there are many others who overcome their inner demons and grow into better people than they were prior to Falling. These black Rukh were brave to offer solitude and comfort to wherever and whomever the white Rukh abandoned.
The black Rukh had been silent this entire time as it merely studied the girl before it. And then it flapped away, disappearing into the dawn with Emilia watching over it.
Increasingly irate by her suddenly growing discomfort, she pulled her underwear down and found two light spots of bright red. Screw you. Hmm, I wonder if the innkeeper has honey . . . For as long as she could remember, Emilia had always craved foods that were drenched in honey whenever she was on her period.
…
Parthevians went about their day in the early morning, and the skies were a bright blue touched with a bit of cloud. Within this portion of the harbour city was a large fountain with long, stone troughs extending from it, where a few women stood by here and there to wash a few articles of clothing. Wearing her freshly-dried clothes, Emilia had been sitting upon the wide ledge of the fountain with her sketchbook opened atop her lap; a stick of lead gripped between her fingers as she allowed for her hand to dance along the page, sketching out the Parthevian-styled architecture.
"Miss Traveller, you're here!"
Well, fancy that. She rose her head to meet the dark, sparkling eyes of that black-haired little boy from two mornings ago. A brief surprised took her countenance before she relaxed her posture and smiled. "And what brings you over here?"
He beamed. "I live here! Auntie and Uncle were selling fruit at that town we met."
"I see . . ." An unrelated thought invaded her mind, and she turned over a couple of pages of her sketchbook to a blank one. "Say, out of curiosity, what did your mother look like?"
"Nice, pretty . . ." The boy scrunched up his face in a struggle to recall. Pouting and kicking a bit of sand, he tilted his head to the side. "She died when I was younger, so I don't remember much. But Daddy said I look like her."
She procured a friendly smile. "Well, that's good enough!" And she proceeded to sketch.
Emilia was meticulous in her endeavour to draw this somewhat casual piece of the boy's parents. Throughout the duration of her drawing, she took much instruction from the boy whilst he was constantly describing the way his father looked, as well as correcting her when she made a mistake. She did not know how much time had passed – probably no less than two hours and no more than three? Her legs and bottom were beginning to feel numb.
The boy had been busying himself with splashing at the water when the foreigner finished. Signing her name, she took the longest minute ever to gently rip the page from her sketchbook as neatly as she could. "For you, little man."
Wiping his hands against his clothes, the child took the drawing with sparkling eyes. "Wah, it's them! You made it look like them!" he exclaimed with a wide, toothy grin. "Now they're with me forever!" Her heart warmed at witnessing his happiness; but then pointing at her signature, he spoke again: "What's that?"
"My signature." She shut her sketchbook.
"What's a 'signature'?"
"A signed name. It's proof that I was the one who drew it."
"Ohhhhhh . . . I can't read; what does it say?"
Bending her torso down to place her book and lead into her travel bag, she half-smiled warmheartedly. "'Emilia.' That is my name."
"I'm Dariush!" Though his introduction was jubilant, his visage soon turned more solemn the longer he gazed upon the picture. "You . . . You are a nice miss."
She hummed. "I'm not that nice."
"You are!" Dariush blurted out stubbornly with ferocity. "Come with me; I'll have my uncle pay you –"
"No, it's alright!" Emilia quickly stood to grab his shoulder when he was about to turn around. "I did that because I wanted to, for nothing in return."
"Oh . . . Thank you," he expressed with a smile of insurmountable gratitude. "Will you be coming back when the war's done?"
"Yes! I haven't had much time to actually thoroughly explore Parthevia and really look around as I have been focusing on trying to find a way to leave; but once the war's done, I'll definitely be coming back."
Those words seemed to have pleased Dariush greatly as he stood to the tips of his toes; leaned towards her sitting self, and embraced her, to which a surprised yet soft smile graced the girl's features. He broke free from the hug a few seconds after she returned it. "I'll be waiting!" he declared; and hugging the drawing tightly against his chest, he skipped away.
"Wow, you are a nice missy."
Eyebrows twitching in annoyance, she turned around with an expressionless expression wherein would have nearly matched Tio's. "Are you stalking me, good sir?"
Sinbad smiled lightheartedly, and Lërynia was perched on top of his head. "Merely observing you from afar, Emilia."
"Same difference."
Taking a few steps towards her, he laughed briefly at her weird wording. "Perhaps, perhaps. I've been told that you're trying to find a ship to leave Parthevia."
Eyes narrowing, Emilia scowled. "What else did you tell him, Lërynia?" She retrieved her bag and slung it across her torso.
The aforementioned faerie puffed out her cheeks in nervousness. "Nothing else, I swear! I told him to ask you directly if he wanted to know anything else."
Sinbad grumbled as he crossed his arms. "Well, my point being: Would you like to join me? I owe you for warning me about the soon-to-be-arriving soldiers." Due to yesterday's warning, he was able to ready a boat, as well as to properly pack for his departure.
She gazed at him thoughtfully. "Alright. I'll only be joining you for this short while, though." And then she procured a small, grateful smile. "Thank you for offering."
He mirrored her actions. "Of course, little cutie."
Smile dropping, she rose an unimpressed brow. "Just hurry up and lead the damn way."
The boy chuckled playfully as he turned, and Emilia followed suit; meandering between people and streets, and turning many a corner around buildings for a bit of time. Before long, the salty ocean-like scent assaulted the girl's nostrils.
Soldiers, soldiers, chirruped a flurry of Rukh from behind her.
They were here, already?
"Emilia?!"
With a suddenness that caught Sinbad off of his guard, Emilia shoved the boy's body against the side of a large fruits shop and behind a bountiful lemon tree. The front of his body smooshed against the mudbrick and the front of hers was squished along his back as she tightly gripped his shoulders. "Shhh," she murmured.
Confused, Lërynia fluttered around the corner, soon returning in no time. "Ne, some soldiers are riding horses down this street."
Sinbad rose a brow, honestly amused by the manner of the girl's actions. "Is that all? And here I thought Emilia liked it a little wild –"
"Do tell, Sinbad," the Otherworlder interrupted eloquently with an irritated gander down the alleyway. She stepped away from him. "Why attempt your hand at 'comedy' when you've no talent for it, at all?"
He feigned an offended glare; managing to hold in a laugh at her facial expression. "Because, regardless of my words, the expressions your face makes are very fun to see!"
"Tch."
Rolling her eyes, she trailed behind a cheekily-smirking Sinbad; and after jogging down a couple of alleyways, sunlight graced them most boldly and the winds increased their pace. The massive harbour was within sight . . . And so was a huge crowd – both of citizens and soldiers – somewhat nearby.
"Ne, Emi, it's her!" the faerie announced when she saw a possessively angry Princess Serendine yelling and kicking at this poor young man and demanding for the people to bring Sinbad to her.
The boy in demand faced Emilia and pointed towards a nearby boat with its' sail already drawn and flapping about in the breeze. It definitely was no large ship, but it was not a tiny dingy, either. Sizeable and sturdy enough, and perfect for a quick getaway. "That's the boat. I will be right back!" And he dashed away towards the crowd.
Wasting no time, Emilia ran along the docks and hopped into the boat, noticing Sinbad's supplies packed in a couple of brown leather bags. There was also an empty barrel, lord knows for whatever reason.
"Ne, Emi, that's a lot of water! The ocean looks so scary up close!" Lërynia groused fearfully; instantly shoving her tiny self away into the girl's travel bag.
Yeah, it really does! Heart beating rapidly and dropping her bag by Sinbad's, she kneeled at the stern and proceeded to loosen up the knots from a thick bit of rope wherein tied this boat to one of the dock's posts.
Ugly shrieking ungracefully attacked her ears and, swiftly leaning her torso to the side, Sinbad jumped into his boat with ease; unceremoniously throwing a raging pink-haired royal down. "How dare you treat an Imperial Princess in such a way, filthy commoner?!" Serendine screeched, and she used her legs to drag herself backwards until her back connected with the ledge along the bow of the boat. "You will be given a hundred deaths for this!" Her arms were glued around her chest, desperately hugging her violet cloak against it in an effort to preserve her modesty.
Piling the rope, Emilia merely spared Sinbad with an unimpressed gander, who then gifted her with a face so innocent, that she legitimately felt like tittering. "What?" he questioned nonchalantly as he kicked against the dock; sending the boat out to sea with Serendine never ceasing to yell nonsensical things. He presented her with a little stab wound two inches from his right wrist. "Her blade was poisoned and she hid the antidotes inside of her breastplate."
"Whatever you say," she said airily; taking said corked vials of antidotes in her left hand from the boy.
The boat moved further away from the port.
"Oh, how lucky we are to have such a lovely, polite and helpful hostage!" Sinbad expressed casually and sarcastically with a very impudent grin. Promptly turning around and nearly accidently smacking Emilia in the face with his obnoxious Rapunzel hair, he lifted the empty barrel and walked to the side of the boat; his Metal Vessel lightly slapping against the side of his left thigh. "Thank you so very much for your assistance, cutie!"
Serendine growled, but then her flushed face deepened into a darker scarlet upon finally noticing Emilia's presence. "It's . . . It's you! Reiman dog; I should have known that you and this pathetic expatriate were secretly working together!"
A splash was heard when Sinbad plopped the barrel into the waters.
"For fuck's sake." Emilia was so done with this. With her right hand, she face-palmed herself so hard that the smack resonated loudly, and the way that Sinbad had peered at her told her that he might be worrying a little for her sanity. "Such an ignorant child – I am not a spy!"
"And I am not ignor– PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW OR YOU WILL SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES MANY TIMES OVER!"
As per Serendine's demand, the purple-haired boy did put her down . . . By tossing her into that lone barrel in which was starting to float away from the boat. "Don't worry – that barrel will stay afloat, and your soldiers will be able to rescue you soon enough! Once again, thank you for being so cooperative. Goodbye, cutie!"
Serendine's shrieking gradually faded and, once she became a dot and Contastia Harbour morphed into distant, tiny shapes; Emilia sighed loudly and leant her back against the side of the boat, taking deep breaths to calm herself.
"Well, I am glad that's over with!" Gleeful as he was to have embarked upon the beginnings of his adventure outside of his home country for the very first time, Sinbad, standing by the mast, gazed upon his new companion's agitated form. "Are . . . Are you alright?"
Emilia smirked distastefully, and the way that her pupils stared up at him almost perceived her as unhinged. "All of that shrieking gave me a damn headache. I'm too old for this shite! Just what did I do to deserve to go through all of this?!"
Yunan, take me back!
.
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*** After Note I – Feel free to drop a review and let me know what you think~! :D ***
*** After Note II – On my portrayal of the faeries, their magical abilities, and deciding on their names: I'm basically borrowing just a lil' bit of inspiration from the way that J.R.R. Tolkien wrote his elves in his very detailed and expansive world, especially the elves of the Sindar and Laiquendi (Silvan and Nandor) races since they are far more nature/animal-oriented in comparison to the Noldor and Vanyar. The name 'Lërynia' is one of the feminine versions to the name 'Lërynion,' which is just an elvish name that I had come up with for an OC who serves as High King Gil-Galad's general in my dragon-focused Tolkien fanfiction. :3 ***
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Guest: Thanks! Have a great week~ :D
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