Disclaimer: I don't own Magical x Miracle or any characters
"I don't understand, Slythfarn…why would you invite us to that hotel if you knew long ago that this was going to happen?" I asked. Slythfarn just closed eyes and murmured about how it had truly been for the best. And then, as tears fell from his eyes, he sobbed about how hard he had tried. How much he wanted to save Seraphia. How much he wanted to face the darkness, even though he always knew he wouldn't be able to face it. Even though he always knew that he would never be strong enough.
"And that is why, I wrote you that note," he whispered.
"Father," he kneeled before the King's and throne and exclaimed, "I made an incredibly foolish decision. And for that, I apologize from the bottom of my heart."
Before he could say anything further, the King leapt up and nuzzled and swayed him so roughly that his skirt began to flutter about. He did not resist, but nor did he make any effort to return the affection. His arms hung loosely from their sockets for several minutes, until the King finally regained his composure and returned him to his feet. "Father," he continued, "I've made the decision to met and marry the prince you have chosen for me." The King attempted to tell him that it really wasn't necessary, but he remained adamant to fulfill the King's earlier wishes. "Slythfarn is gone. I have nothing and no one to keep waiting for and the time has come for me to take my step toward to succeeding the throne for my country."
I stepped forward then, placed my hand on Slythfarn's shoulder.
"Oh, yes, Father," Slythfarn murmured, "I would like to formally announce now that I have dubbed Miss Dahlia my royal escort."
The King's eyes grew anxious then and he sputtered, "I'm sure she's very nice, Seraphia, but I'm not so sure that's a very good idea."
"I ran off on my own, Father. Miss Dahlia is completely and totally not at fault," Slythfarn insisted. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to return to my quarters now so that I may rest before lunch."
"Of course, Dear," the King replied.
"Miss Dahlia," he summoned me.
I nodded and accompanied Slythfarn to Seraphia's room. After we arrived, I swallowed hard as I shut the door tightly behind me. I was still in the dark about much of what was going on. And so after long, silent carriage ride back to the palace, I finally mustered up the courage to demanded, "So, how in the hell does this remotely help Seraphia?" Jerking sharply around as I said this, I immediately found Slythfarn changing out of his sweaty outfit without shame.
"I thought something was bothering you," he blatantly laughed at my anger, letting the dress fall from his waist to the floor, leaving him in his slip. He slipped into the bathroom then and I followed him in. When I made it the door way, I found he now just in his bra and underwear. I rolled my eyes as he examined himself in the mirror. Then, I suddenly found myself screeching at the top of my lungs as he moved to unclasp the bra. He grinned impishly and immediately turned back into his true from before stripping down any further. I breathed a sigh of relief when he opted not to remove his underwear. Finally, he spoke. "There's something I want to do before I die and this is my only means of doing it."
"You're…dying?" I asked. "How long do you even have?"
"I've been wondering that myself," he sighed. "A fortuneteller once told me that I wasn't long for this world. That was right before I met you."
"That was quite some time ago," I stated. "Don't think it's possible that your fortuneteller was wrong?"
"Considering she told me I would die before I became an adult, I was pretty convinced I wasn't going to when I turned eighteen." He explained. "I was pretty relieved the day I turned eighteen and nothing happened, but I realized quickly becoming an adult doesn't come with a magic number."
"Can't you just brew up a potion?" I wondered. "I mean, you're the Master Wizard! You can overcome anything!"
"I'm not sick," he stated. "I'm going to be murdered."
"What?" I gasped. "When? How?"
"Soon and until that time, Seraphia is to remain as far away from here as possible," He said.
I almost fell over upon my next realization, but fortunately managed to grab the door way. I peered quizzically into his eyes after regaining my senses. I uttered, "You kidnapped her," and then he looked away shamefully.
"And that's why I wrote you that note'…that's all you said," I whispered. "I still didn't understand, but you were so upset, I couldn't push you to talk anymore. But now I know just why you had to hurry. It wasn't a warning to me about what was going to happen—it was you telling me that you had done it."
"Yes," he admitted, but then suddenly I recalled the testimony of the Sharpes. Obviously mind reading wasn't far down on his list of abilities, and so he replied, "I bribed a down on his luck actor to tell them of all that. The testimony itself was useless. The real message was hidden in the very description of that actor's personality and emotions. I knew that if I could get them to use some description befitting me, I knew that Fern and the others would know deep down in their hearts that I'm still alive."
"So, let me get this straight. Something is about to happen to Princess Seraphia and so to rescue her, you plan to take her place so this person murders you instead." I fit all the pieces together. "Does it really work that way, though? I mean, just because you've convinced someone they've killed their target, doesn't mean they won't figure things out for themselves and go back for it."
"It won't be an easy life for her," he admitted. "But, at least she's not going to die."
"Okay, so now that I know what's going on here," I continued, "Do mind explaining to me now what happened back then?"
I didn't become a shut in mom because it was what I wanted. Hell, if I had had my way, I would have hired a nanny and continued running around like the wild animal I was. For a nearly a year after that incident, though, I had no choice but to hideaway.
"It was her!" The crowd roared. "She killed the Master Wizard!"
Slythfarn lay in my arms. I had just run him over with my carriage. I felt that I was on the verge of being slaughtered myself, but in the mist of the emergency services rolling through not five minutes after, it was hard for the people to focus on me just then and there. I slipped back into the alleyway from which I'd come and ran out to the nearby ghost town. Slythfarn finally walked up showed up sometime late in the evening handed me a newspaper. Somebody had obtained my picture and it was spread out over the front page. The rain began to pour then and we ran up the nearest porch to escape it.
"I'm sorry," were the only words Slythfarn could muster in that moment. Someone else took hold of my mouth then and whispered that it was okay. I had known what I was getting into all along.
"It won't be released until the morning anyways," I choked. "That'll give me plenty of time to get out of town. So, how'd you manage to get out of the hospital and still pick this off the hot plate while it was still burning?"
"It was easy enough," he shrugged. "All I had to do was shape shift into one of the doctors and then later into one of the journalists down at the paper press. Well, if was easy enough after I convinced the hospital staff not to treat my wounds. I don't think it would have looked good if they had suddenly just washed off"
"Probably not," I agreed. "So, what of your 'body?"
"I was able to muster up a completely different one," he explained. "It took a lot out of me, though. And I knew it would. That's why I needed you to create my wounds with that costume make-up in the first place. Most wizards don't ever fully recover from feats such as that and I'm sure I'm no exception to it."
"So, will you ever be able to perform any sort of magic ever again?" I wondered.
"I'm tired right now, so it'll take some time. But yes, I will still be able to perform some spells and with hope eventually build back up to an average level." He explained. "In any case, I want thank you for all your help," he said.
"Sa-sure," I replied.
He stayed silent for a moment and then shrugged and murmured, "Well, I guess it's starting to let up. I should try to get going."
He started down the steps, but I immediately cried, "Wait!"
He turned back around and asked, "Yes?"
"I still don't get what you want me to do with your diary or these letters!" I exclaimed.
"I told you…get the diary and deliver the letters. Just wait until the right time," he stated.
"The right time for the letters too…when will that even be?" I wondered.
"Well, I don't want you just randomly handing them off as you meet them all," he explained. "But trust me, you'll know what do!"
I started to say more, but he silenced me with a wave of his hand. Then, after giving me a little wink, he took a deep breath and took off into the storm.
Apparently, Slyth's original intent in writing the letters was to simply get his last words to all of his loved ones. The reason he told me to wait was simple enough too. It was pretty obvious to him that word of his death wouldn't reach his loved ones immediately and he thought only to prolong their hope that he was really alright. Still, he already knew something horrible was going to happen to Seraphia in the future, so he designed his elaborate plan to save here, having me in mind for his lackey all the while. He wasn't really sure when he was going to die and if was meant to be before Seraphia, then he would still have the final words to give. However, he managed to survive, he would be able to change the content of the letters as he felt necessary from afar. Thus the strange messages that appeared in the two that I had already given.
And so that was the story. As I closed Seraphia's door behind me, back out in the hallway, I murmured to myself, "So, Slythfarn, you were the Fallen Soldier all along." It must have been. After all, he had lost quite a bit of his power casting that spell to create a fake corpse of himself. And now he was to become the hero, the knight that would. It all finally made perfect sense. Except for one thing—who was I?
That afternoon I was welcome to the royal feast at the right hand of Slythfarn. I was barely eating, though, as everyone wanted to know about my great quest in rescuing the Princess. The king sat next to Slythfarn at the end of the table, the remaining chair next to him was empty. Merleawe sat next to this chair, Yue next to her, and Lecto next to him. I sat next to Vaith, who sat next to Glenn, and finally Fern. All the while, I couldn't help but notice Lecto staring at me intently. Finally, I called him out on it.
"Do I have something on my face?" I queried him irritably, looking him straight in the eyes so as he would know I was addressing him.
"I'm sorry," he faked a cough and then took a sip from his cup, "I was just noticing that you cut your hair…among other things."
"Yes," I murmured with a frown and a raised eyebrow. "Seraphia thought it more suitable that I present myself looking more like a royal escort and less like somebody's mommy."
"But of course," he nodded, hardly bothering to remove his glass from his lips. He started to just stare down into his contents then, but every time I looked away from him, I couldn't help noticing him sneaking another peek out of the corner of my eye. But then, as the servers returned to collect the plates and the feeling of conclusion entered the air, Lecto was the first to jump and excuse himself. Yue glanced at him over his shoulder as he muttered that there was something he wished to speak with him about later before dashing out of the dining hall. Yue just placed his head in his palm there and let out a little yawn. Everybody seemed more than a little glazed over that day. When it clear that all conversations had ceased, they all began to excuse themselves in the proceeding minutes. In the end, only three of remained in that enormous hall, an eerie air echo now replacing the earlier sound of booming voices. Fern was still picking at his food and so it would have been rude for Slythfarn and me to take off at that point.
"Fern, is everything alright?" Fern looked up to see the pure blue of Seraphia looking sweetly at him. He blushed slightly and buried his face back in his plate.
"So, it really is true then," he choked.
"I'm sorry?" Slythfarn questioned.
"That he really is dead!" Fern suddenly shouted and flung his knife across the table. Slythfarn didn't even flinch as it bounced around in front of him. He added, as the knife started making that spinning sound and halted its bouncing, "You said so yourself just a few hours ago."
"Fern, we buried him seven years ago," Slythfarn said softly. "What would make you think that—?
"Forget it," Fern hissed and stomped out of the dining hall without another word.
I looked at Slythfarn quizzically then and asked, "Do you think he knows?"
"Not in his head, he doesn't," Slythfarn stated. "In his heart, though, he knows without a doubt."
"And the others?" I wondered.
"Slythfarn is dead," he sighed. "They're all just relieved that I'm home now."
I sat in my old room later that evening. It was as empty as I had found it. All my stuff was already sitting in my new suite next to Seraphia's, waiting for me to give it a new home. One thing, remained, though, and that was my jewelry box holding the letters from Slythfarn. I stared down at them, still holding Yue's, Glenn's, Fern's, and Merleawe's. Now that he was here, if even for a little while, I couldn't help but wondering I should still hold on to them for awhile.
The door was open and suddenly Lecto poked his head in. I shoved the letters into my pocket then, as he said, a hint of accusation in his tone, "Ah, I thought I'd find you here."
"What do you want?" I grumbled. I couldn't stand the weasel and I wasn't afraid to show it, considering it was no longer necessary for me to kiss the ass of the person that kisses the ass of my old boss. That, however, was a mistake. A moment later I noticed he held a yellow newspaper under his arm. Peeking out from their holding cell, my younger eyes stared back at me.
