A/N: Again, I apologize for the late update; lots of stuff happening at once including a small accident, but all is well by now! (Not for Maxwell though XD)
I really want to play Hamlet though...especially the Aporkalypse... *sigh*
Maxwell was more than confused to say the least.
He even ignored the voice that greeted him and the rest of the survivors as they landed into the third world of their long journey, which sounded a bit fazed as it spoke, "Say pal, you don't look so good."
He couldn't help but to flinch upon hearing his own words parroted by the current King of the Constant and could imagine the triumphant smirk on the sovereign's face as he stared down to their unconscious forms.
There was a short pause before it went on, "Here's a little deal; your wishes may all be true here. No harm will ever come after you again. Though, I must say this: Move no further, for you will deeply regret it."
He silently snorted as a whoosh entered the air, signalling the gamemaster's departure.
I have long regretted my decision if you want to know, he mused and let his thoughts drifted back to what he had in mind earlier:
What happened to Willow really set his nerves up; like, how could the current King manage to remove her fiery ability? Was it related to the faint light he and Woodie saw back in the snowy world? Was it a form of punishment for harming one of the pawns (albeit inadvertantly)?
What even was going on in the Constant right now?
His train of thoughts however was swiftly interrupted with a sudden poke on his neck. He groaned in annoyance to the one who disturbed his quick slumber and shifted aside to subdue his throbbing temple.
The person prodded him again and disgruntled, he grumpily sat up, muttering out while rubbing his eyes, "For goodness' sake, we're all burnt out here after that last level! Can we at least have a decent nap?"
He then looked forward, only to see the sharp blade of a spear was at his throat. Gulping in fear, he lifted his gaze upward, where a vibrant red-haired woman towered over him, holding the weapon still.
Her outfits alone made it clear that she was some sort of warrior, complete with a winged unicorn etched on her golden helmet. A Viking, perhaps? he pondered.
"Halt, evil öne!" she spoke rather grandly for a threat. "At löng last, I've finally föund yöu!"
He blinked hard as if to process what she meant as she continued, "After all this time, trapped in this...peaceful wörld, yöu have decided tö shöw up! Just in time töö, för I seek the thrills öf a great battle!"
His eyes widened in horror upon realization when she raised her spear, grinning widely at him. "Yöu have been such a great villain, but I'm afraid yöur life ends nöw!!!"
Without second thoughts, he pulled out his trusty Dark Sword in order to parry the attack, causing both weapons to clank upon impact.
"Öh, putting up a fight, aren't yöu?" the female snickered and flexed her shoulders before readying herself in a fighting stance, "Nöw this is getting interesting!"
Maxwell slowly stood up and donned his Night Armour at once, causing the pain in his head doubled within seconds. But he was fighting for his survival, and a few loose screws in the head won't bother him much.
Besides, the lady herself asked for it.
"Listen..." he began and stepped away from his group to avoid any possible incidents, the warrior followed him closely with a smirk, "This is all a huge misunderstanding. Can't we talk about this?"
"Are yöu sure aböut that?" she grinned, her bright green eyes glinted mischievously.
The look she gave him sent the jitters down to his spine.
Seeing it, she added knowingly, "Yöu seem tö löse yöur cömpösure. And like they said, 'Actiöns speak löuder than wörds'!!!"
He only had a few seconds before she sped toward him with a war cry and he blocked the incoming attack with his shadowy sword.
Quite a gal you brought here, he thought with gritted teeth as she put up more energy and he ran out of the way when the tip of her spear ripped out parts of his armsleeve. Wish I have a shield; that would be more fitting for this fight.
The sound of heavy breathings and weapons clanking slowly stirred everyone else to wake up.
"Already?" the strongman, Wolfgang mumbled out while rubbing his eyes. "I am not good enough for a fight right now!"
"Easy there, Wolfgang," Ms. Wickerbottom softly replied, her head was pounding hard at the moment. "What's with all this racket, Maxwell? Care to explain?" She adjusted her thick-framed spectacles as she spoke.
"Not now; I'm a bit busy here!" the magician hollered as he blocked another swift attack from the stranger.
"The truth will cöme öut söön enöugh!" the redhead shouted, lunging forward to corner her opponent. "Nöw if önly yöu allöw me tö finish this..."
With a tricky flick of her spear, she managed to disarm Maxwell, who was utterly taken aback with it and slammed him onto the hard ground.
The Dark Sword landed helplessly a few feet away from its owner, who was struggling to get free from the firm hand that choked him before he abruptly stopped and gazed at his captor in resignation.
It's about time, I suppose, he thought with a weak smile and the warrior mirrored his action knowingly. Besides, I doubt they even accept me as part of them in the first place.
Now, if only I had the chance to talk to Willow...
As the others tried to clear out their visions, the aforementioned firestarter had her eyes bulged in horror as the stranger held her weapon high with a triumphant smirk, gripping hard at her partner's collar.
"Send my regards when yöu land in Valhalla!!!" she announced and motioned her weapon forward.
"NO!" With a shrill cry, the black-haired woman tackled the redhead and both of them wrestled to keep the spear away from each other.
"Yöu...dön't understand!" the warrior began as she clawed her way out of the other's grasp, "He must be killed at önce!!!"
"Just listen to us!" Willow cried out, putting up all her strength to keep her pinned on the ground, "He's not dangerous as you thought!"
"And why was that?"
"That was... he...He's not the King anymore!!!" the firestarter shouted and her eyes widened in realization upon the spilled secret before slowly, she turned in fright to the rest of the survivors.
All of them fixed their gaze in disbelief at Maxwell, who in return did the same to her.
The only children of the group, Wendy and Webber were hiding behind Wolfgang's mighty form; the spider child was shaking badly while the blonde simply held her stare toward the man who had saved her from the Treeguard back before they entered the Door.
"You...the King?!" Woodie the lumberjack spat out the words to the magician. He then glared at the trapped warrior and Willow, taking the hint reluctantly helped her getting up.
"Do you have any proof?" he barked as she brushed away the dirt all over her outfit.
The redhead only smirked before she said, "Föllöw me."
(line break)
Led by the stranger, the group of seven shuffled across the huge world, taking note on how everywhere seemed...very peaceful.
With the redbirds tweeted rather cheerfully as they hopped from tree to tree and the warm wind that blew from west, it reminded them of the world they had left behind before entering the wooden doorway.
However, their attentions were mostly on Maxwell, who was at the front of the group with his hands tied at his back like a culprit.
In which he was, according to the redhead who introduced herself as Wigfrid, the Great Warrior of Norse (they doubt it was even her actual name, but they don't question it). However, they were still exhausted from the last journey back in the snowy world and simply wanted to rest before she suddenly stopped in her tracks, puzzling them.
"Behöld!" she said, spreading her arms as they reached a large clearing of land full of evergreens and devoid of life.
"There isn't anything worthy to be seen here," Woodie grunted until a loud snort entered the air and everyone pulled out their weapons at once bar Maxwell, whose face was more than distraught at the moment.
"Yöu will see," said Wigfrid with a flashy grin and led them to the evergreens, fishing out her spear, "The truth is cöming!!"
Then the pigs showed up. The Guardian Pigs, in fact; snorting around and most of them glared angrily as the survivors approached them closer.
"YOU NO COME," one of them spoke, "LEAVE NOW."
"TORCH NEED FIRE!!!" "MORE BURNING!" the ones near the rows of pig torches said and rushed to refuel the flames.
And of course, the quote that Maxwell feared the most:
"KING! KING!" the pigs chorused and bowed as if performing a ritual. As soon as the survivors heard it, they glanced upwards and saw it with agaped mouths:
The gigantic marble statue of Maxwell, posed dramatically with arms raised highly in the air and the smug smile on its carved face told them everything they need to know.
"Please tell us this is all a cruel joke, Maxwell," spoke Ms. Wickerbottom, putting off her glasses and massaged her forehead. Everyone turned to the magician, hoping for him to deny the statement.
With the triumphant smirk of Wigfrid's face and the way how the lanky man cowered as he avoided their gazes, they came to an unpleasant conclusion.
"I knew there was something off about ya," Woodie broke the deafening silence, his words were full of poison and hands kept clenching around his red axe, Lucy every now and then. "Off with your fancy magic stuff then; we don't need ya! A traitor!"
"Don't be so quick to judge him, Woodie! Th-there must be an explanation about this!" said Willow frantically, coming to Maxwell's rescue but even she knew it was useless in the end.
"Wolfgang doesn't believe this! If magic man is bad guy, why is he here with us?"
"To make fool of us all, that is!"
It was then broke into chaos with everyone giving out their opinions of the bounded man that they barely paid any attention until Wendy cleared her throat, signalling them to hear what he had in mind.
"If you must-" the magician spoke, still with head hung low, "-allow me to explain everything. I promise, there will be no more deceit and you all can decide on what to do with me later.
"Death is sweet, after all," he finished with a weak smile.
All of the survivors shared a look before nodding in unison and began to walk back to where they woke up earlier.
"At night," Willow whispered to him as she grabbed hold of his tied hands and led him; they were the last of the group to leave. "For now, let's have some food." She then rested her head on his left shoulder.
"Thank you for saving me back there. I will defend you, whatever they said about you later."
He never felt so teared up with her words until now.
(line break)
When they arrived at the spot they landed earlier that day, they were surprised to see multiple tents set up at once, with only few yards in between of each other.
"There's name on this," Wolfgang inspected one, "This is mine!" He looked around and saw the bipedal pigs again. They however, were only wearing grass skirts that covered their loins.
Wooden houses littered the area, with the pigmen strolling around and instead of attacking him, they themselves scurried away when the strongman neared them.
"So we got the nice ones and the bad ones," said Woodie, hands at his hips as he looked around, "Fair enough, if you ask me."
He shot a piercing glare at Maxwell before walking away, clearly wanting to find the tent that bore his name before night fell.
"Here's ours," Willow said to the magician, pointed at the two green structures which were quite close to each other. "Come; you sit here while I search for some food."
Reluctantly, he only watched as she set off while everyone else went to find their own tent.
It wasn't until later did the thought of the divining rod crossed his mind and he scanned around to see if there was one in its usual holder near the place they spawned earlier that day.
The homing device wasn't there.
He blinked in incredulity upon the realization. Could it be on the other island? he pondered.
He was then interrupted by the waft smell of meatballs and saw the very warrior who had exposed him to the rest of the survivors stood before him.
"Yöu must be starving," she said curtly and shoved the bowl in his hands before kneeling down and untied him.
He massaged his reddened wrists after she finished her work and towered against him again. "I expect yöu being truthful tönight, ötherwise yöu will never get tö see daylight again."
He ruefully scowled at her as she skipped to the grasslands where the beefalos were and watched in awe as she felled them one by one until only eight of them remained. Collecting the loots left behind, she then returned to his tent and set up a campfire.
"Don't you eat carrots or berries?" he couldn't help asking as he chewed on one of the meatballs. It felt nice to have meat again as his diet, especially since the rabbits' weren't enough to satiate his hunger. "Surely you won't eat those meats by yourself."
"Thöse are nöt fööd fit för a warriör," she simply said while roasting one of the beefalo meat over the fire and waited until it seemed cooked enough and she sank her teeth onto it, chewing a large part of it.
She must be ravenous to get those on daily basis, he thought with a slight shudder before finishing his meal.
Soon dusk came, and everyone went to Willow and Maxwell's tents with pockets full of useful items. Wendy, the ever-resourceful child set up a few crockpots with Webber's help while the valiant warrior gave her shares of food to everyone else.
The aromatic smell of steaming meatballs brought them to indulge the hearty meals just as night fell.
"That was good food!" spoke Wolfgang, leaning against a large boulder and rubbed his full belly. "Can I join you in hunt later?" he asked Wigfrid, who was sharpening her spear's blade with a piece of flint.
"Nöt nöw, I'm afraid. We'll have tö wait a few days tö hunt söme möre," she said and placed her weapon aside, "but I sure can use yöur mighty förm's assistance söön!"
"We're good friends then!" Both of them grinned as they clasped hands together.
"I guess now's story time," said Wendy nonchalantly as she stroked her twin sister's flower, "if you're ready enough." She gazed at Maxwell through the corner of her eyes.
All of the survivors were in a circle with the magician was at the center; their weapons left on the ground near them if something unexpected happened.
The man gulped nervously and stared at Willow, who gave him a small smile and a thumb-up.
Clearing his throat, he then began his story; telling them his actual name and his life journey before ended up being in the Constant. He told them how he had ruled over the world for such a long time when finally, the current King was mentioned and everyone looked around in horror.
"He held a grudge against me," he said, looking into the darkness where his beloved assistant was. "And so does she.
"Feel free to do whatever it is to me; it's been nice knowing you," he concluded.
Silence fell soon after, with everyone's face were solemn.
"We will decide tönight," spoke Wigfrid, glancing at Woodie in the meantime; the lumberjack had his teeth grounded hard in his mouth. "Gö have yöur rest; it might as well be yöur last."
He shuddered upon seeing the weak smile in her face.
Turning to his partner Willow, he then reluctantly entered his tent and pulled out his old pair of glasses.
You did good, pal, he couldn't help the small lift of the corner of his mouth before lying down and covered himself in a blanket made of beefalo wool, trying to distract himself from thinking about tomorrow.
When he woke up the next day, he was momentarily blinded by the sunlight and turned his gaze aside to Willow, who was beaming at him.
"About time, old man," she joked and handed him a bowl of meatballs. "Here's your share."
"Wh-where's everyone else?" he asked and got up, stifling a yawn.
"Oh, they decided to let you be. Most of us vouched for you anyway, so that's why you're still here."
"How nice of you, and them all," he half sneered and took his breakfast.
"Aw, don't be sad," the firestarter scooted nearer and hugged him, "It was Wigfrid's idea, you know. She convinced Woodie to let it go. And for some reason, after talking to his red axe did only he agree."
"That's strange if you ask me." With a shrug, he then bit into his meal.
Willow only smiled as she watched her partner ate when her eyes fell on the spectacles beside him.
"Is this yours?" she asked and took it, inspecting the round glasses. He froze for a moment before nodding, chewing his meal with a grimace.
"Why didn't you wear it?"
"I don't need it much now."
To his surprise, the woman giggled as she swiftly put on the glasses on him, which caused him to grumble in annoyance. Good thing that he had finished his breakfast, otherwise his suit would be ruined. And he doubted the ponds were clean enough to remove the stain.
"How do I look?" he asked in deadpan, setting the now empty bowl aside.
"You...look much younger," was the answer.
"Really?" Now it was his turn to be surprised.
"Why would I lie about that?"
After short breaks of laughter, they then decided to get to work. Upon the way to fetch some twigs and grasses, they stumbled across the woodsman, who merely raised his eyebrows to them.
"You look like a dork," he remarked upon noticing Maxwell's glasses. "No offense," he added quickly.
"None taken," the magician replied with a smile before he and Willow set off to the meadows.
I wonder if I did the right thing, the ginger-haired man thought as he watched their forms getting farther. Glancing at the sun, he decided there was still time to chop more trees, and off he went.
(line break)
"Shouldn't we stay at the main campsite?" Webber asked the only female child of the group, Wendy as they traversed the large island. "We should collect more items, you know."
"You can go yourself if you want," was the curt reply. "Besides, you will not like the place I'm heading to."
"Pffft," the spider child laughed, brushing away the thought. "It wasn't like anything had attacked us before! Of course there are-"
His words were halted when Wendy suddenly stopped and stared into all of his eight eyes.
"Pigs," she hissed. Before he had a chance to interrupt, she continued, "I'm going to ask them if they have met the King before, and since spiders are their common enemies, I don't think you will fare well."
Webber could feel the telltale chill in his spine as she spat out the honest words.
"O-OK then," he said in defeat and trudged away from her. "We will see you here again, if that's alright with you?"
"More than fine."
The blonde watched as he made eye contact with her before finally turning away and made his way to the forest.
She sighed; she didn't mean to be harsh to him but it was the truth; his appearance would cause panic among the pigs and her plans will be ruined.
All she wanted now were possible clues about the current King.
"Greetings," she said to a pigman near her; the stinky smell of it that filled her senses was shoved aside. It was for answers, she told herself.
"WHAT YOU GOT?" it grunted.
"Do-" she stopped midway, trying to use simple sentences so the pigman could understand. "Other people here?" she asked instead, inwardly cringing at her attempt. "Besides us? And warrior lady?"
The pig only blinked hard at her.
I knew it, she lamented and began to turn away.
"TELL NAME FIRST," it said with narrowed eyes. She shrugged; the suspicion on her was rather unexpected but she knew there was more to it if she could indulge deeper into the conversation.
"Wendy."
"NAME WILBUR."
"Hello, Wilbur. Answer my questions. If you mind."
"THERE WAS FRIEND," it started wistfully, she noted. "COME WITH ME."
She followed Wilbur to his house, a rather small wooden one at the skirts of the forest Webber had gone to.
"BAG WAS FRIEND," he continued as they arrived, handing her a rather worn-looking backpack. She turned it over; there were mud stains here and there but otherwise it was still good. The bag was also quite bulky, which rose her curiosity even more about the mystery.
"Where is he?" she asked.
There was a pause before he finally said, "HE GIVE ME. GO TO HOLE. NO COME BACK."
So there is a way to get out of this island, she thought. A hole, he said. Might ask Wigfrid of it.
"Tell you what," she assured the pigman, "We find friend, and give bag. If you want?"
"REALLY?" Wilbur squealed happily. "I LOVE FRIEND!" He then lifted her and spun her around, giggling. When he set her down later on, she gave him a half smile whereas deep down she wanted to strangle the pigman for doing such a joyful act on her.
"Wendy?" a throaty voice called her name and she snapped her neck toward the newly-arrived spider hybrid, three black cat-sized arachnids were at his feet.
A loud snort entered the air and she looked at Wilbur in horror. He had his beady black eyes fixed onto the black critters, his teeth bared out dangerously.
"Why are you still here? GO!" she shrieked, just as the pigman launched himself towards Webber.
The hybrid only had the time to duck in fear when he heard a whine behind him and he peeked behind:
The pigman was wrestling with a dark blue hound on the ground. He was paralyzed; watching as they tried to get a bite of each other until the sharp tug of his arm brought him back to reality.
"We need to go. Now," Wendy told him through gritted teeth, gripping hard on his wrist.
"There will be more to come."
With teary eyes, he only let the girl led him and his new friends out of the forest; howls of the canine filled the air in each step.
(line break)
Wigfrid adjusted her golden helmet on her head and held her battle spear tightly; her heart was hammering hard in her chest but she knew she shouldn't let her fears visible.
Everything on this world was merely a test.
A test of her reliability.
For the survivors counted on her when it comes to the island's surroundings. Now that the baying of the hounds were echoing across the plains, and from afar she could see the figures of Wolfgang, Maxwell and Willow rushed toward her.
"The scary puppies are here!" the strongman announced as they arrived, panting. About ten hounds had emerged from the forest and ran toward them, tongues lolling and sharp teeth glistening with saliva.
"Then what are we waiting för? Let's fight them!" she shouted valiantly and readied herself. She caught sight of Woodie and Ms. Wickerbottom near the main camp, their weapons were in their hands already.
"Nöw is yöur chance tö redeem yöurself," she whispered to Maxwell with a smirk, who froze upon hearing her words.
"I will show you I am worthy to be kept alive," he hissed and pulled out his Dark Sword.
"Suit yöurself." Flexing her shoulders, she then sped toward the pack of ferocious hounds with her battle spear raised.
"Valhalla awaits!"
(line break)
Wendy hated herself.
She knew it wasn't anyone's fault that she was weak when it comes to defend herself, and that was why.
After running a few yards, she skidded and turned back around, not wanting her only source of information about the King died. And so, she went back toward the forest, with Webber shouting her name.
She knew she was selfish in saving the pigman, but it was worth a shot.
When she arrived however, it was too late.
Three dead bodies of hounds were sprawling on the ground. And Wilbur was leaning against a large evergreen, hooves brushed over the gaping wound at his side.
"You..." she croaked and sat beside him, staring at the injury in disbelief.
"You will be fine," she said with tears brimmed at the corner of her eyes, "I-I think I got something to nurse you back." She rummaged the insides of her backpack before stopping.
There was nothing to heal him. Her salves hadn't been restocked and Abigail was still out to help her dealing with the aggressive bees for their honey.
"I'm sorry, Wilbur," she averted her gaze on the pigman.
Instead of a grimace, a smile made its way on Wilbur's face and he lifted his bloody hoof to her face. She clasped his limb, smearing her visage with his blood.
"YOU DID GOOD," he spoke between heavy breaths. "TELL BOY-SPIDER...WILBUR WAS SORRY."
"Of course, Wilbur. Thank you again, for your help," Wendy said tearfully, her body was shaking. She had never cried since Abigail's passing, but this one was an exception.
"WILL GIVE BAG...TO FRIEND?"
"I-I will."
"TAKE WILBUR HIDE. WILL HELP YOU..." A long gasp escaped his mouth and she instantly knew he had left.
"Rest well, Wilbur," she muttered, closing his eyes.
It wasn't long until Webber arrived and before the sun set, both children dug a grave near the pigman's house, carving his name on a cut stone with a flint.
When they stepped into the main camp as dusk fell, everyone asked them where they had gone for the day, though not the worn backpack Wendy had brought along. Both of them didn't answer, with the blonde entered her tent at once.
"I'm sorry about earlier," she began.
"No, it's alright. You did the right thing after all," Webber accepted her apology, scratching one of his new friends's fuzzy heads fondly.
Too forgiving, the bereaved noted, but otherwise it suits him just well.
"What are your friends' name?" she asked the human arachnid after everyone else went to sleep that night, not bothering to wash the now dried blood stain on her pale face.
"Albert, Bernie, and Charlotte," was the whispered reply.
She inwardly laughed in bitterness before lowering the folds and buried herself under the beefalo wool blanket.
What a world we lived in.
(line break)
The fourth day in this mundane world, Woodie noted while taking a stroll in the forest early in the morning. Yesterday wasn't really eventful, since they had dealt with the hounds two days ago.
He missed the misty days back in Canada, and today was no different. All he needed now was...
"Woodie," a feminine voice entered the air and he smiled.
"Hello, Lucy," he greeted enthusiastically, caressing the blade of his red axe fondly.
"Can we get to work already?" she asked, "It's been so long..."
The woodsman chuckled, knowing better than to argue with her. "I know Luce; in fact I am about to chop some!"
"Let's go then!"
Soon enough, about seven large evergreens had fallen onto the ground and the woodsman wiped beads of sweat on his forehead, more than happy to do his job.
He needed to take a break though, as he slowly felt the familiar goosebumps all over the nape of his neck.
A lone green tent suddenly caught his eyes and he headed toward it, telling Lucy to be silent and placed his prized item at his belt.
"Hey," he greeted the resident warrior of the third world, Wigfrid as he stepped into her camp.
He still wondered why would the King place her far away from the rest of the survivors, but he decided to keep the question away at the meantime.
"Öh, hellö Wöödie," the redhead replied, wiping away beads of sweat on her forehead. She too, was chopping down some evergreens when he appeared. "Have a seat, I'll be döne söön." Nodding in acknowledgement, he settled near the fire pit.
"You might wanna slow down a bit," he said in caution when she continued her job, "sometimes even these trees will kill you if you aren't careful."
"Nöthing can stand ön this warriör's path!" she grinned, swinging her axe to the trunk of a large tree, "I will vanquish them all with my all-löyal spear!!!"
Woodie shook his head in amusement as he heard her.
Just another Wolfgang, he mused, but stronger and hot-tempered. A bit.
"Getting prepared, eh?" he asked after a while.
"Yep," came the short reply.
"What for? Surely the King had told you there's no danger here. Apart from the darkness, that is."
The woman froze upon hearing his words. Her last swing of the axe caused it to break upon impact, and even as the tree fell onto the ground with a loud creak, she took no notice of it.
"The darkness?" she asked innocently and stood up straight, folding her arms before frowning in suspicion. "Yöu can't be seriöus."
The lumberjack was shocked with her statement and so, he got up as well. "But it's true! You will get killed if you stay in the dark for so long!" he explained.
"Isn't night as benign as day?" she argued. "Yöu must have göne cucköö after spending time in this wörld."
That brought the man's attention. "Don't tell me you haven't died yet."
"Nöw why wöuld yöu say that?"
Silence entered the air, leaving the question hanging around.
"Just...don't go into the darkness without a light source, would ya?" said Woodie with a defeated sigh, "Please."
She stared at him, whose eyes were pleading to her as if to keep his words in mind.
"Yöu dö knöw that it's everyöne's instinct tö have a light söurce during night, right?" she asked instead, causing the man's face to redden immediately.
It wasn't long before they broke into laughter and spent the rest of the day sharing their survival stories in the Constant.
When dusk came, Wigfrid bade the woodsman goodbye and waited until he disappeared from her sight before picking up the wooden logs and placed them near her fire pit. Amidst of her work, she gazed up at the reddish sky and saw the faint outline of the half-moon among the clouds.
Seeing it, she beamed.
The redhead turned to her wooden chest and opened it. Most of the items inside the container were basic stuff like flints and twigs, but there was something that stood out among all of them.
A thick bundle of papyrus, placed neatly between the gold nuggets and the rocks.
Taking the rough sheets of paper out, she scooted closer to the fire pit and started it up with some wood before reading what was written on them.
Her cheeks flushed in acknowledgement on what was in store for her when night fell soon.
All she need now, was to give out her best.
Let this be the test of my incredible acting!!!
(line break)
It was dark and cold, but he didn't care less about the current sombre mood inside the prison he was locked in.
For it was the time where he and his dear friend will be free from the ever-watching eyes of Them, and even though it only lasted for two days, he thought it was more than enough for a short break from causing chaos in the Constant.
He took a glance at the crystal orb he had summoned and saw his favorite pawn reflected on its shiny surface, who was setting up her stage as bright as possible.
His smile grew wider when she took the paper he had left and started practising her lines with such vigor.
"Are you ready now?" he asked absent-mindedly to the endless void around him.
Something stirred in the darkness before slowly, a female figure appeared within the centre of the Throne Room, fire from the stone pillars that lined up the path sprang to life in each of her steps.
"You look...exceptionally beautiful tonight," he praised and got up from his seat, bowing to her when she finally stood in front of him.
"My King," the woman curtsied in return and stood up straight again, "Thank you for the compliment." Then she frowned.
"Are you sure this is safe? Leaving the Nightmare Throne for two days? Do They even know about this?" she voiced her concern, but a finger placed on her lips told her everything.
"Now, let's not ruin the mood. Don't even think of Them at the moment," he said with a smile, cupping her right cheek and trailed his fingers over her short hair.
"You do like theatres, right?"