Jankitty (the wonderful) made me a gorgeous picture of Centola (THE EYES ARE PERFECT) And it shall be on my profile if you'd like to see it. Now, onto the chapter :)
Starry Skies
By Gold Sparrow
SEVENTH ARC: Dungeon Blues
CHAPTER 25: Be a King
"To be alone is to be a lack of everything you are, and an entirety of truth."
Is that a lie?
Kouen used to hate his father.
It wasn't hard to tell why.
Like most noble children, Kouen was raised not knowing his father except for the formal meetings and sightings on their grounds. Unlike most noble children, he did know his cousins and uncle.
His uncle.
Strong, courageous, wise, dignified. Everything Kouen thought a person needed to be king, to be emperor. He wished with all his heart that Hakutoku, who laughed with his sons and held his daughter close, was his father. To be born to such a man, to have Hakuyuu and Hakuren as his brothers, that would be a dream. Even little Hakuei was like her father, being kind to Kouen in her own, strangely mature way. There was also Hakutoku's wife Gyokuen, who, despite her years, didn't look a day over twenty-five, still beautiful and gentle. Hakuryuu cried often, but he smiled even more, and took his older sister's hand with gusto as they walked along.
If only they were his family.
But things weren't all bad. He had his brother Koumei, even though the younger had a sleepy personality and was quite lazy. They shared a mother who was...Interesting, to say the least. A bit on the tightlaced side, envious of her husband's mistresses and boastful that she had given him not one, but two sons.
His father never bothered to settle her worries nor stop her gloating.
In fact, he took many more wives, all which gave him daughters except for one.
Kouen had sisters, but he didn't care about them. Not one of them was like Hakuei, who prefered a sword but sometimes knitted because she, 'wanted to be well-rounded'. None was like her, and he didn't need sisters who sneered when they saw Hakuei training with her brothers.
There was Kouha, who was ten years younger and born roughly the same time as Kougyoku, the latter which Kouen never bothered to meet until he became Crown Prince.
Crown Prince.
He wasn't like Hakutoku, or Hakuyuu, or Hakuren. He would never be like them, and he couldn't even consol the eleven year old Hakuei who looked at him and Koumei and saw…
What did she see?
All he knew was that there was resignation in her face when she looked to them on that bed, her burn wounds wrapped up and hidden away. There was acceptance and a sort of biting edge to her words that shocked him and Koumei, who were only used to her smiles and eager conversation. When Koutoku was crowned Emperor, her face was blank, and she held the hand of the restless Hakuryuu.
Kouen blamed Koutoku.
That wasn't right since his father didn't kill Hakutoku, but there was no other face that really fit the bill, that made a suitable villain to Hakuei and Hakuryuu's plight. When he was made Crown Prince, Kouen dared to look into his father's face, intent on holding the gaze and challenging him, telling him that he was a man now with a Djinn on side, and he wouldn't forget his hatred.
And in the red eyes of the Second Emperor Kouen saw things.
Things that he couldn't describe.
He saw the battlefields his father had treaded in his youth. He saw the life and death of comrades and enemies and innocents who perished in the uniting of three eastern countries. He witnessed the Emperor committing acts that his uncle didn't know about, sins that Koutoku did for the good of Kou- for the good of his elder brother.
In those revealing eyes, Kouen could see the shame and guilt and pain, the raw hatred and envy that developed from being the only one to feel such a hideous burden. There was a hole in his chest that couldn't be filled by women nor alcohol, and then, vividly, the moment that Koutoku let go of everything.
The moment he just stopped caring, and let himself become a disgrace, let himself be hated by his eldest son.
His achievements in the military faded away, but the crimes he committed in secret remained fresh in his mind. Even when he became Emperor, he just didn't care about anything other than going through the motions and indulging in whores and wine.
It was so disturbing Kouen turned his eyes away, and pretended he didn't just realize what the inside of a empty man looked like.
A second later, as Koumei looked up at him with confusion, Kouen understood what it meant to be a king, to be emperor. The grasping of hands to reach up and touch the Gods, to sit on a throne and rule over a country that was equal parts glorious, kind and corrupt. He knew, and he resolved to never let his eyes be like his father's.
He, Kouen Ren, Crown Prince of the Kou Empire, decided to take on that responsibility of kingliness he had never considered for himself before. He would heal wounds long forgotten, he would make a world where good people like his cousins didn't have to grieve so stoically, where there would be no meaningless death, where eyes could show a soul that wasn't broken into a million pieces.
And he was determined he would succeed.
A scream.
It was a scream that Eren immediately recognized.
It was a scream that tore from the girl he wants to protect, something that stilled his blood but made him twist towards her.
Her, being whisked away. Bad, being whipped through the air, a strange tentacle squeezing her.
He shouted her name, screeched it almost.
Where is it taking her? Is she okay? She looks scared, should he Djinn Equip? What is doing this? Is it Al Thamen? Is it Al Thamen?!
Centola appears the same second he reaches for his cuff, grabbing his wrist.
"It's Zagan!" She tries to tell him, but his mind is in a blur. Catrina is a panicked face, Centola a reassuring one, Bad disappearing from his sight.
He has to protect her- he's always protected her.
If he's not with her then who'll take care of her? No one knows her like he does, no one understands how to care for her like he does. Alibaba, Morgiana, Hakuryuu, Aladdin, none of them knows how she conceals her pain, puts up a facade of bravado so astonishingly performed it seems real. If he's not around, then, then-
He realizes he's breathing too fast and Centola is talking to him in a quick manner.
"No!" He snaps, even though he doesn't know what she was saying. "No, no, no I'm not lettin' her go alone into a Dungeon no."
"Eren, she's-"
"N. O." He whispers to Centola in a dangerously low voice. Catrina looks even more panicked than before, unconsciously rubbing her sweaty hands together.
"We- what- what do we do?" Her normally cheerful voice is desperate, far-away and scared. "Bad- Cent?"
Eren's heart lurches. He doesn't only have one little sister.
"It's fine," He tells her, but he feels wild and unsure. "It'll be- I'll go after her."
"No." Centola blocks his path, arms outstretched. "Both of you, listen to me." The Temptress can have such a commanding voice.
"Don't fight me on this, Centola." Back to that threatening voice. He'd do anything for Bad. She's-
"B-Brother?" He tenses. He turns. Catrina and him lock gazes.
There is a million words that should pass between them, but only a few do.
'Cat, she-'
'I know.'
'And we-'
'I know.'
'We made a promise.'
'I know.'
Eren's shoulders drop. He opens his arms. He closes his eyes.
The warmth of the Fanalis-Amala is instantly there, holding onto him as if trying to gain the reassurance that neither of them feel.
"I would do the same for you, too." He says into her hair quietly, patting her back as her trembles fade. "I would react the same."
"I know."
When he opens his eyes, he resignedly meets Centola's gaze.
"I'll go to Seere." His voice is a pained, bitter mutter. This is what Bad would want him to do, but now more than ever he wants to hold her hand. He wants her to call him an old man and demand he carry her through the forest to the Dungeon.
"Do you trust Bad?" Centola asks him, a test.
"With my life." He answers without hesitation.
"Do you trust Bad with her own life?"
A pause.
"No," He couldn't find it within him to lie. The Temptress's green eyes widen a fraction, not expecting such a reply. "She's too reckless alone. She can't remind herself of the future, she slips up too often." When Bad feels lonely, she drifts off to a place that Eren could never imagine going to.
Another deep pause.
"She gives-"
She gives up on herself. She wants to die.
But with Catrina beside him, staring up at him with orange eyes that don't know this truth about their younger sibling yet, Eren stops.
"No." He merely admits again. He couldn't bear the thought of Catrina realizing that Bad thought about suicide, he could imagine her stricken face. He hates it when she's upset, because then she'll deny everything and her lips will quiver until she starts to sob. Eren can't stand it when Catrina cries.
Bad never cries, but she doesn't have to.
He can hear her soul moaning in pain.
Centola is quiet.
"Do you trust that she won't give up on her goals?"
Eren wants to say no. But he can't find it within him to lie.
"Yes." Bad won't give up on her goals. Her goals, no matter the sizable burden, are what save her from thoughts of death. Eren is scared of what happens after she finishes her goals. No, not scared. He's terrified.
"Then you know she won't fail, right?"
Eren hangs his head.
"Okay. Let's go." Catrina takes his hand, looking like a lost child. She must be feeling the same as him, wanting to go to Bad, feeling helpless without her. But Catrina isn't the type to be scared when something happens to her friends, she reacts. She fights tooth and nail for them.
But this isn't a friend. This is Bad. This is the person they both love a bit too much. And Catrina is afraid that her heart will be broken the same way it was when she was forced to leave her homeland.
Eren knows how hard it is for Catrina to trust others. She'll be friendly with them, she'll go out with them and have fun, but she's always prepared mentally for a backstab or harsh word. That's the reason she can be so carefree, because she's always reassured by herself that no matter what is said or done to her, she can shrug it off as easily as one would dust.
But Catrina trusts him and Bad and Yamu and Yunan, she loves them with all her heart. He doesn't want that love to be betrayed.
Then Centola is there.
She takes their held hands in both of hers, gentle and understanding.
"Don't worry. In canon, everything turned out alright. With Bad there, it'll only be easier for them to conquer Zagan!" Eren knows she's right, but it's so hard to not be worried. Catrina puts on a brave face, smiling tightly.
"Y-yeah, it'll be fine! Bad is strong!"
Bad is strong.
They turn on their heels, walking towards the new Dungeon.
Bad is strong.
Each step feels heavy.
Bad is strong.
Each step feels guilty.
Bad is strong.
The seventieth Dungeon wasn't like most Dungeons.
It had an youthful feeling to it, freshly built with a modern look. Well, modern for Magi standards. The outside was white-house like, with stately moldings and regal roman-esque columns painted in shades of gray and white. The marble floors leading to the gateway were all laid out with precision in a nicely contrasting blackish-gray. Looking up at the ceiling, one would be astounded by the paintings in light colors, depicting a sunrise spreading over fields of flowers, wheat, and willow trees.
Seere wasn't like most Djinns.
That was clear to almost every Djinn. He didn't care much for politics even when he was a part of King Solomon's household, instead acting like himself: an eager young man with an older brother who was a little too overprotective of him. Seere was whimsical and friendly, earthly and artistic. In the eyes of most, he was not a respectable choice for Solomon's household, but those who truly knew him understood Solomon's reasoning.
He wasn't like most idealists.
While he could be incredibly kind and believed the best in people, there was also a truth that kept him on point when he corrected the faults of others'.
Seere knew what it took to become King.
Three walked the path toward his Dungeon, looking up at the structure with determination in their hearts.
The Djinn taps his fingers on the tiles of the treasure room, watching. He studied the first one, faltering only a fraction.
A beauty with pure emotions. She was steadfast and smart, and her eyes had seen a great deal of things- both good and evil. Not bad, but the way she held herself...Seere shook his head. She didn't want any more fighting, yet wasn't prepared to achieve her goal.
He studied the second, tilting his lips in a wry smile.
A warrior with a kind smile. This one was female as well, and had felt pain more than once. She was strong, steady, brave...Seere nods. A good candidate. Yet there was a pinching under her skin. She had given up her dream for another's. The Djinn frowns.
He moved to the third and tilted his head, lips parted.
A hunter with deep reserves of strength. He already captured a Dungeon before, and Myeshia called to him from the cuff on the man's wrist. A bow and sheath of arrows lay on his back. He had lived with evil, but his very presence had quelled it's intensity. He had a dream, but like the previous, it was one he gained from another. Unlike the previous, it was one he embraced because he never had a goal before it.
Tap, tap, tap, tap.
Interesting, interesting!
Who to pick? The resolved hunter? The pained warrior? The hesitant genius?
All three are good, even though two are specialized magicians.
Seere grins.
Of course, not even their strengths or magic can beat his Dungeon. His dungeon is made of the bones of morality and the flesh of harsh reality, infused with the tang of personal defeat.
Hm, who to pick? The resolved hunter? The pained warrior? The hesitant genius?
Seere points his finger.
"I pick you. You'll go first in the games!"
"What a beautiful painting," Catrina gapes, spinning beneath the mural on the ceiling. "It almost looks real. Who do you think painted it?"
"I dunno." Eren scratches his neck. "We all died 'fore the end of the Alma Torran arc, so it's not like we know much about Djinns."
"Bad said that the Djinns used to be the Chiefs of their races, and ruled underground cities," Centola points out. "The artist could have been one of Seere's friends."
The Fanalis-Amala frowns.
"That's kinda sad."
The older two don't respond.
"Here's the gate." Catrina watches Eren's eyes shift. "Time to go…"
"Let's hold hands." They stare at Centola, who blushes.
"Scared?"
"N-no, it's just that if we hold hands, there might be a better chance of arriving at the same time," The girl brushes her hair out of her eyes. "I've been thinking and I wanted to test out a theory of mine."
"What's that?"
"Well, have either of you seen anyone arrive in a Dungeon at the same time?" Eren pauses.
"Bad n' I did, but she was holdin' onto me." Centola has a conspiratory smile.
"I think that the reason companions are split apart upon arrival to the Dungeon is because they aren't in contact to one another when they go through the gate. At least, that's what I think. I'd like to do an experiment." Catrina stands in the middle, holding each of her adoptive siblings' offered hands.
"So we just hold hands?"
"Yes, that's it." Centola's brightness diminishes. "It's too bad I won't be able to test out my experiment multiple times for a decent amount of results, but no matter."
"Jane," Eren whispers. "SMH."
"What does SMH mean?"
"Shakin' My Head."
"Don't be rude, Eren!" Catrina jumps forward, her knee touching the gateway. A brightness envelopes them.
The Dungeon wasn't what they were expecting.
It didn't look like a Dungeon at all, actually.
It was a large open area, looking like…
...Balbadd?
The streets were the same uneven and surprisingly chipper yellow of the country, and the scent of the sea and garbage and spicy bazaars hung in the air. They were in the Palace courtyard where they fought the Kou bodyguards, the sun blaring out a desert heat but the wind from the waters making the temperature feel like a mild yet warm hug.
Centola feels like she's gonna puke.
"What the hell?" Eren mutters, turning around. "It's a perfect copy."
It was. Every chip was where she remembered it, each wall standing before her as if awaiting her review.
Her home. How was she back home?
"The Djinn must've used his magic to create a scenery." She states calmly. "But why would he give us home field advantage?"
"This is an advantage?" Eren questions. "Feels more like a mind-game."
"We all know the layout however. No matter what traps are laid, we'll know how to evade them."
"Well, I'm freaked out," Catrina shivers, scanning the palace. "It looks exactly the same. How did he get in our heads like that?"
"Magic?" Centola suggests, but that's the only plausible explanation. How else would he know about Balbadd? About each detail of the home Centola loves?
Of course, she doubts this is what it looks like anymore. The kingdom she was born in is probably gone, replaced with Kou houses and customs. It hurts a little, but it's the truth. Would she ever get it back?
"Yes, magic." Their heads snap to the palace's towers. There, a Djinn hung.
He was holding onto a tower the way a man would hang off a trolley car, one hand gripping the metal and a foot there to steady him, the rest casually leaning outward to see the sights. He was in Djinn form, which was the reason his large hand wrapped all around the stone structure, and he gave an easygoing smile despite his dominating presence.
"Wh- Djinns can't leave the treasure room!" Centola yells, pointing at him. He cocks his head at her and hops down, landing with a startling amount of sound. A gust of wind hits them and blows back their hair and clothing.
"True, they can't." The Djinn admits, shrinking. "You've already noticed I'm not the real Seere, eh Centola?"
"How do you know my name?" Stay calm, Centola. Do as your aunt taught you.
"You probably already know the answer to that, too." The fake-Seere is shrunken down now, the same height as Eren. His skin is blue, but a vibrant color that seems lighter than what Djinns Jane's seen in the anime have. His eyes are a striking green, strange because she has never heard of a Djinn without blue eyes, and his hair is as pale as snow. Like most Djinns, a simple white piece of cloth wraps around his waist and a few necklaces lay comfortably on his chest- each gleaming either gold and silver with rubies and emeralds strung into the precious metals. He seems handsome, but his eyelashes are thick and make his strong jaw seem out of place on a feminine face.
Centola felt the need to answer him, even though he didn't ask a question.
"You used some sort of magic to create a battlefield." Seere chuckles.
"Yes, but this isn't a battlefield little Temptress." He turns. "Eren, how is Myeshia?"
"Good?"
"Ah, that's nice. I haven't seen her in so long. Her being here means that the guardian has arrived, right?" Fake-Seere's eyes glow. "I'm so happy. My dear King Solomon's will is moving forward like Ugo and Myeshia said!"
"Um, excuse me?" Catrina ventures, waiting for the Djinn to turn his eyes to her. "If you're not the real Seere, then who are you?"
"I'm a Dungeon Creature created by Seere to run the games since he cannot. Call me 'Pseudo'!"
Psuedo, because he's a fake. Clever.
"Seere's elder brother taught him how to make replicas of himself. Thus me, Pseudo. Of course, Zagan's copies tend to run amuck. Not me though! I happen to like my job under Seere." Pseudo smiles wider. "Now, let's start the games, hm?"
"What are these games?" Pseudo's smile drops. His face becomes somber.
"Tests of Kingliness."
"Kingliness?"
"Yes. There are three tests you must go through in order to prove to me that you are worthy King Vessels. From your results, Seere will pick a King." His lowers his gaze, ominous suddenly. "If you fail, your memories will be wiped and you will be thrown out of the Dungeon."
"Why?" Catrina blurts, staring at him. "Why would we-"
"Centola knows." Said girl pursues her lips as the other two look at her for answers.
"Because…" Pseudo gives her an encouraging nod. "Their memories are wiped because of the trauma. And they're kicked out of the Dungeon because Seere doesn't actually want to kill anyone...Or maybe because his tests can't kill anyone."
Pseudo laughs as Eren and Catrina take in this revelation.
"You are a smart one, Centola. I was correct about each of you, apparently." He scans over them. "A genius, a warrior, a hunter." He sighs, a calm sound. "Alright, let's start! First challenge, 'Cruelty'! A test of the strength of the soul!"
1st Level: Cruelty
Challenger: Centola
Answer: ?
The fake-Djinn holds out his hands to Catrina and Eren, which they take hesitantly. Instantly the Djinn secures an iron grip on them and jumps up onto the wall, landing with each of the two under his arm.
"Allllllright! It's me, Pseudo, your test administrator!" Pseudo booms, laughing. "First test goes out to my homegirl Centola! Ready?" The Temptress takes in a quick breath and looks around her, thoughts racing. She turns to him and calls,
"Wait, don't you have to explain the rules?"
"Rules?"
"It is a game, right?" She gazes at him intently. "You said it yourself."
Pseudo returns her gaze right back, still smiling but in a way that sends a horrible chill down her back.
"Rules, hm? No outside help from your companions. No compromises. Finish the objective, and tell me what 'cruelty' truly is for a King." He chuckles. "There's no time limit, but trust me, you'll wanna finish it quick. It just gets worse the longer you do nothing."
What 'cruelty' truly is for a King? What does he mean by that?
She can't dwell on it, even though it's her task. It's unclear what's going on and what this so-called 'test' is, but if what he's saying is true about longer you do nothing then she has to finish this fast.
She fists her hands. She'll complete this task for sure. Centola can't even begin to think what it would be like if she forgot about Alibaba and Kassim and everyone else. To forget her entire life and the important things she's learned. If she loses everything, then there won't be a 'Centola' anymore. There won't even be a 'Jane'.
That's terrifying.
"Ready! Set!" A long, frightening pause. "GO!"
She prepares for something to come at her but-
A blinding light makes her lose her sight. She throws up her hands against it, but just as fast as it came it's gone. She blinks the spots out of her eyes, feeling her heart racing and her head pound.
Her breathing stops.
A sputtering scream breaks through the air, tearing at her heart as she backs away. It's not her scream.
It's Khadeja's.
"Mi...Mistress!" She coughs out, blood splattering against the ground. Khadeja holds her stomach tightly, breathing in ragged breathes.
Someone grabs her shoulders. She lets out a loud gasp and turns-
Sinbad?
"Centola, I'm so sorry." He tells her, eyes hard and not looking at her. "But Al Thamen's gotten her. There's no way to stop her transformation."
Nothing makes sense. Nothing. Why- no, how did Al Thamen get Khadeja? How? What is going on and where-? There's too many questions and the screaming continues on. There are onlookers as well. Alibaba, looking sick, Zeina, covering her mouth, Ja'far-
Ja'far with wide, scared eyes and a shivering form.
The air is cold.
Her hands are shaking terribly.
What, scared of a little death?
Scared? No. Haunted by, weary of? Yes.
Yes, yes, yes.
What is she suppose to do?
Cruelty.
Ice encases her heart, freezing the muscles and leaving her unable to move.
"Mistress, I won't ever betray you."
"Mistress!" Khadeja cries, tears pouring down her cheeks. She's letting out wails of pain and finally her knees hit the ground, strength waning. More blood sprays from her right eye. "Please, we can't-" Centola knows. She knows what Khadeja's saying. If Al Thamen truly was able to 'get' her, then- then Centola can't let them win. Because if they win, Khadeja will be forced to help them with her strange abilities. And the world will burn, like Bad showed her.
There's a knife being pressed into her palm.
"Centola." Sinbad's eyes are gazing into hers, so resolved and hardset. He knows what she's thinking. He understands because he's been in this situation before, has accomplished this task. Because he's a King.
He just nods to her.
That's all.
But it's worth the thousand words he could've said.
Centola takes the first step, her vision blurry. It can't be blurry. It needs to be sharp, so she can memorize the lines of Khadeja's face, the forgiveness in her tears, the encouragement in those bright amethyst eyes.
Please no, please no, please, please, please no.
The two words keep repeating in her head until she doesn't know which one she started praying first. Her footsteps are so steady and precise, but she doesn't feel herself moving. She doesn't feel her hand gripping the knife, nor herself dropping to her knees in front of Khadeja.
Khadeja lets out groans of audible pain as one freshly-clawed hand snaps forward to slash up Centola, but her still human hand grabs the other before it hits it's mark. Centola doesn't react to it. She doesn't move anymore.
"Please," Khadeja whispers. "Please."
She's begging you.
The claw inches forward, only stopped by Khadeja's struggle. The plates of the wrist are sharp, and in her struggle to hold on her hand is cut up and bloody. Her tears are red now.
Centola felt the knife entering Khadeja's body.
She didn't realize she would feel it.
All she was aware of was something sliding into place within herself, and falling forward to gather Khadeja in a hug.
The knife plunged right into the meat of the stomach smoothly, severing muscles and veins. Her hand becomes warm and wet, but she can't see it. She pretends it's water. The crying and groaning stops, the clawed hand and the human hand falling onto her back.
Centola lets go of the knife, relishes the quiet, and wraps her arms around Khadeja.
Khadeja breaths in, breaths out, and is gone.
"Thank you, Centola."
Then there is white light which she ignores, and everyone who was once there was gone.
Khadeja's corpse in her lap is gone. Ja'far's hysterical sobbing is gone. Zeina's turned back is gone. Alibaba's horrified face is gone.
Sinbad's resolved eyes are gone, but she remembers them much more clearly than anything else. She'll remember them forever and ever, past even her own death.
"Centola!" Catrina's there. Tears stream down the Fanalis-Amala's face, and she stops just short of Centola, wiping her cheeks furiously and hiccuping.
"I'm so sorry." She gets out, and Eren avoids her gaze when he comes up beside them. The Chandlen steps forward and takes Centola's shoulders. He pulls her into his arms in a jerking motion and uses a hand to stroke her hair.
"Cent," His arms are so warm. He's all muscle, and it's hard beneath her cheek, but he's so warm and gentle like he's practiced how to hold a person and relieve them of their burdens. "Don't cry. It's okay."
She chokes.
Crying?
You finally noticed?
I just thought it was Khadeja's blood.
"Good job!" Eren glares at Pseudo, who appears from the top of the wall. He smiles at them, the sobbing Centola especially, who noticeably tries to stifle her emotions. "Tut, tut, Eren! No need to glare."
"Fuck off." Eren growls, holding Centola tighter. Standing above and seeing Centola's lifeless face as she was forced to kill Khadeja...It was too much. Catrina started bawling, wanting to look away, and Eren stood with a sickening feeling of hypnotism, unable to stop watching. The gleaming knife held in a shaking palm, shocked green eyes, and their final embrace. Every moment was mesmerizing and deeply troubling.
Then the tears Centola didn't even to notice she was shedding, each droplet filled with pain and agony and the memories of their time together, even though it wasn't real. Well, it sure as hell seemed real.
"Hey, that's not nice Eren! I know that test was harsh, but you'll have to pass them in order to become worthy of meeting Seere." Pseudo stands on his heels, zoning in on the Temptress. "I like that look in your eye, Cent. I'm sorry things had to be this way for you to gain it."
Eren looks down at Centola, confused. Anger boils in the pit of his stomach, but he tries to exercise self restraint.
Then he sees it.
Centola's eyes always resembled mirrors, but now they were mirrors. At least, that's what Eren saw. The tears were slowing, but unwavering mirrors were reflecting back the image of Pseudo in perfect clarity, glowing green and strong.
"So? What's cruelty?"
Centola's voice wavers when she responds, but holds steady.
"To a King, cruelty is making the decisions others cannot. Even if it means hurting people you love, it's for the good of your goals...And sometimes, for themselves."
Pseudo's face melts into a tender expression.
"That's a nice answer."
1st Level: Cruelty
Challenger: Centola
Answer: Correct
"Okay! Next test!"
"What? Right now?" Pseudo sticks his tongue out at them.
"Of course now! And you're the lucky contestant!" Balbadd crumbles under their feet, the floor giving away in a shower of crumbling stones and dust. They fall into the blackness, the light fading quickly and the familiarity of home slipping away from Centola. "Be prepared! This one is 'humbleness'!"
2st Level: Humbleness
Challenger: Catrina
Answer: ?
Homefield.
Catrina understood what Centola had meant by that now.
"Where are we?"
Catrina's lips mouth words, but no sound comes out to go with the movement. Her feet start forward, down the familiar path. The achingly familiar path. Made of soft dirt and downtrodden grass, a dark color in the night. Lights pour out from the little cottages, and the fields lay curled around the hills- a few actually swallowing them up in grape crops.
It smells so wonderful- like sunshine and fresh fruits and a distinct fragrance that she can't describe but goes with one word: Amala.
Amala.
Home.
Amala.
She's finally home.
A tear falls down her cheek, but not because she's sad.
Amala.
She whirls around, much to the surprise of her two companions, and she throws out her arms, relishing the cool air and the silver rays of the moon that just don't shine right anywhere else. She spots the town. The town hasn't changed at all! Farther in, in the center of the territory, is the city lights glowing as orange as her eyes.
Visubris, Amala, home.
Wait.
Home.
She turns on her heel, ignoring Eren and Centola completely.
Home.
Mother.
As she starts to run, a light laugh escapes her. It doesn't sound like a laugh, but rather a sound of pure happiness and joy. The curves of the path are the same. The twists and turns sometimes slight and other times giant around the hills.
She reaches a hand to the stars that sparkle in the heavens and prays that she'll never have to leave again. Even if no one accepts her here, she still loves it more than anything else in the world. The cottage's lights dim, but that's okay. She's memorized the path to her house. Catrina thought about her house so many times that she even remembers the tomato plants in her mother's garden with perfect accuracy.
"Mama," Catrina whispers, eyes glittering. "I'm coming home! I'm really coming home!"
She imagines her mother. Her long black hair, meticulously tied into a ponytail and braided, her orange eyes alive and gleaming. The ridge of her nose, her smiling lips. The sound of her voice, exactly like Catrina's, unsmooth and unfinished and full of knowledge. Those arms, always willing to hug her and shield her. Aisha never looked strong, but her body was trained and honed like that of the best Alpha out there.
Her ears prick to sounds down the road.
She frowns, but her joyous spirit doesn't lessen. The sounds get louder and louder, and with growing anxiousness Catrina realizes she's nearing not only the sounds but her home as well.
Then it comes into sight.
Her home.
The cottage looked different. Of course, she rationalizes, it had to be remade because of the fire. She should have remembered that. The door was wide open, spilling lights made from candles out over the lawn. Inside, four figures yell at one another.
She stumbles. Five figures.
There was one apart from the rest, standing passive, like a bystander. He was at the foot of the pathway toward the house, watching almost boredly as three men and a woman argue.
She's not that close, but icy realization and their words hit her.
"...Fuckin' shi' Aiiii," One drawls, and a thick waft of alcohol hits her. "Don' yelll! Ya're the one 'ho fucked a monsta and brough' that shitty bra' in here!"
"Ya!" The two others agree, drunk but much more clear headed than the other. "Don't blame us."
She could see, with her Fanalis eyes, the inside of the house made by the window and open door. Her mother is there, on the other side of the window.
She looks pissed as all hell.
"Get out of my house, now." Aisha fists her hands on the dish towel she is holding, her words a harsh growl.
The drunkards laugh.
"You ans'ered the door~" The first sings. "S're you didn't wan' us 'ere?"
They're harassing her.
Catrina feels hatred wake from it's burrow deep, deep inside, leaving unpleasant scratches on the walls as it climbs it's way up her throat.
She keeps going, silently, and tries to watch the scene while not being noticed by the man outside her house.
"You said you were going to bust down the door if I didn't." Aishia shouts, slamming her hand down on the kitchen table. The sounds doesn't even make the men flinch.
"Well, well, the town whore is making a fuss!" One of the less drunk men chuckles, his eyes making a movement that sickens Catrina.
Are they…
Are they leering at Aishia?
"I'm not a whore." Her mother stands stoically, eyes narrowed. "I've only ever slept with Catrina's father. I've never been interested in the mutts here."
"We're the mutts?" One of them hisses, taking a step that makes Catrina's blood boil. "After you went out and spread your legs to some trash on the outside?"
"Only trash would barge into a person's home uninvited."
"You bitch-"
She gasps as the first man rushes towards her mother.
Unfortunately, that triggers the person outside her house to stumble forward and whip around to look at her.
He was a guy a little older than her, with Amala standard eyes and hair. He looked familiar somehow, but she couldn't dwell on that. A large-
Crash-
Comes from the inside, and Catrina tries to go forward.
"Stop!" The boy exclaims, standing in her way. His eyes narrow.
More-
Thwack,
Shatter,
Bang-
Sounds echo in her ears.
"Get out of my way, I need to go help her-"
"You." Just one word. Just a single word, charged with hatred. The boy's hands fist. "You."
She doesn't have time for this.
"I don't have time," She tells him urgently. "Let me by-"
"You...You're Catrina Exsos." Exsos, huh? That was her mother's maiden name. At least, it used to be, before she left the tribe and threw away her father's surname. No one had ever called her 'Catrina Exsos' before. Hell, she never called herself 'Catrina Exsos'. She rarely ever thought about the last name. She was just Catrina.
"W-well, yes, I suppose so."
"I knew it." His eyes are burning, intensely dangerous like pure flames. "That red hair; I knew it was you from the moment I saw you. You're the reason my life is shit."
What?
"Who are...You?" He's familiar. She's seen him. No...Not just seen him...He saw her-
"You're the one…"
He saw her when she-
"...Who killed my parents."
-When she fought Jabari and Dalila.
He was Jabari and Dalila's son.
She killed them in front of him.
I once thought I was a good person.
Walk, walk, step, step.
I once thought that if I held out my hand, those people I really, really loved wouldn't hesitate to take it. I thought I would never have to worry about being rejected.
Pause.
But I really am starting to worry. Who am I, anyway? Why do I feel like lying is second nature and death is first? Asking questions really, really sucks.
This isn't the first time I've angsted about bullshit like this. This isn't the first time I've thought of myself as a monster. But nothing I do seems to fit right with what I say, and if I can't even accept that I'm not as evil or good as I think I am, then how will I ever be able to move forward? Seriously...Why do I even care anymore? What matters anymore?
"Yo, let's get going! I'm sick of waiting for your sorry ass,"
"Just a minute, asshole."
"Jeez, you're crankier than usual,"
...Does karma really exist? And if so, why won't it just put me out of my misery?
Oh right.
Because my death needs to be more painful than this.
"Well, you can call me Nym! I'm a Dungeon Creature created by Seere to administer the tests and such. It's funny you're here, I had a group already go inside."
"We're aware."
"I see. Well, are you ready for the first test?"
"Bring it."
1st Level: Cruelty
Challenger: Unknown
Answer: ?
"The fuck is that pipsqueak doin'?" Pseudo shushes Eren, pushing both him and Centola down more. The hill they chose to hide on was located the perfect distance away to watch the drama unfolding, from Catrina's pale face to Aishia's wickedly hard punches. Pseudo cringes as she lands a perfect one on one of the men, breaking his nose.
"That pipsqueak," Pseudo points to him. "Is the son of the couple Catrina murdered."
Eren and Centola gape at him.
"What?" Centola manages, her jaw dropped. "Catrina- She never said anything about-"
"Five years ago, Catrina's house which she lived in with her mother was attacked. The ones who orchestrated it was Aishia's old friends and their cronies. They tied up Aishia outside and set the house on fire with Catrina still in it. They didn't expect that she'd be able to get out, but, well, she did. And boy was there a fight afterwards. After her first two kills, one of them got a hold on her and slashed open a wound on her arm. She was in such pain that this boy's mother, Dalila, was able to drag her close to the flames and light up her arm." Pseudo's voice gets quiet.
"The boy's father, Jabari, was laughing the whole time. And her mother was crying. Catrina got free and plunged her hand straight through Dalila's stomach. Blood everywhere. A gruesome fight between Jabari and Catrina took place, with spectators too scared and in awe to interfere. Finally Catrina used her magic to stick hundreds of sharp bones into Jabari's entire body, and she ripped him apart."
Beats of dark silence.
"Then it was quiet except for Catrina's panting. Someone in the crowd started crying. That someone was Dalila's and Jabari's son, who sobbed like there was no tomorrow coming. Catrina was so horrified that when she looked at the onlookers, all she saw was disgust. And yes, a few did look that way. But most of them were just scared."
"That's...That's why she ran away, right?"
"She just turned and ran as fast as she could. She thought she could hear people yelling at her in the background, but no one was saying a word."
Centola sniffles, droplets of salt water hitting the grass.
"How do you know?" Eren hoarsely asks, voice so strained it sounds like it's about to snap. Pseudo looks to the cloudless sky, alight with stars so unfamiliar to him.
"This is a new world. Solomon and Ugo must've made their stars ten times more beautiful than ours."
But Pseudo disagreed with Seere. To him, the stars on Alma Torran were the most elegantly arranged and wonderful, made of pure silver. The ones here jumped with red and blue and white and variations of colors he can't describe. A grey that could be purple, a blue so dark it looks green...Or a green so dark it looks blue. They wink in patterns across the silky liquid of the night sky, twinkling as if to tell him that Alma Torran's constellations may have been still and beautiful, but this world's are alive. They're alive with Solomon's will. They're alive with freedom.
"Life magic." Is his simple response. "A very unique life magic."
"You killed them." His voice is weak and defeated and angry and hard. "Why? Why did you have to kill them?! If you're as strong as Father and everyone always went on about, then why couldn't you've just had mercy?"
Mercy.
What a cruel, cruel word.
"My father...I know he was a bad man. But, but, mother didn't laugh like he did. I know she was just as bad but...But she's the one who tucked me into bed at night and told me she loved me the most in the entire world. Why'd you take her away like that? Why'd you shove your claw into her stomach and out the back, revealing her spine? I don't understand!"
There was no reason.
Catrina tries to think back to what she felt.
What did I feel?
Angry. Angry. So fucking angry.
And hurt. Like a wounded animal striking out to protect itself. It can't be blamed, but it still did something terrible.
"An-and dad too, why'd you have to rip him apart like that? Did it feel good to make him scream when you thrust those damn bone-spears into his legs and arms and torso? Did you feel it when his left leg separated first and then his right arm slowly tore itself off?" The boy is sobbing now, his words layered with tears. A physical pain builds in Catrina's chest, a hollowness that she's all too aware of.
Why did I kill him like that?
Because he wouldn't stop coming at her. No matter how hard she tried to defend, he just kept coming at her. Catrina fired off shots to him that intentionally only left a small gash, but he still didn't react. He used abilities only a head Alpha could know, and she was just a trainee. Her magic wasn't on par with his. He should've killed her.
But Catrina is a Fanalis.
And she kicked and punched and left bruises that would never heal on his body. But he wouldn't stop. He was furious about Dalila, he was in agony over his wounds, and...And maybe he didn't want to lose to the daughter of the man who stole his first love away. Maybe his true love.
That thought made her snap.
How dare he make her do this in front of her mother. How dare he think he was worthy of her mother. She was going to tear this piece of shit apart.
And she did.
But she doesn't feel good about it. She'll never feel good about it. There is no excuse for what she did to this boy's father.
"I…" Catrina can't say 'I'm sorry'. That's not enough. Catrina falls to her knees, and presses her forehead to the ground. "You're right."
"I killed both your parents. I killed them. I can't make an excuse, because human life is precious and I took that away from them, like I had some sort of right to pass such judgement. I can never, ever be forgiven. But, but...But Tendaji!" She snaps her head up to stare into his eyes. Water blurs her vision, tears falling steadily like rain down her cheeks. "There's not a day that goes by where I don't regret my actions! I always think of you, Dalila, Jabari, Faraji and all the others I mercilessly slaughtered! I think of you every fucking day. Please, please, don't let me by because you forgive me, do it because inside that house is someone so precious and innocent in all of this that I can't stand the thought of not being able to protect her…"
Her voice cracks hard and loud.
"Please...I don't wanna fight you...I never want to hurt my family ever again…" Tendaji is sniffling and coughing back his sobs.
"...I'll always hate you, Catrina Exsos. Always." He promises, stepping off the path. "I'm doing this because I'll never stoop to your level and hurt your mother." She stands shakily and looks him in the eye, even though her face is red and she looks just as ugly as she really is.
"Thank you."
"MA-!" Barging into the room, Catrina expects to beat some stupid drunk ass. Instead, she walks right into her mother screaming at three tied up males on the floor and hitting them with a wet dishtowel. "-Ma?"
Aishia freezes. She turns around and sees Catrina, her lips quivering.
"Baby?" Instantly Catrina is in her mother's arms, crying softly into her dress. Aishia holds her daughter close and strokes her hair, voice shaking. "Oh my God, you're home! You finally came home!"
"You were waiting?"
"I'd wait a thousand years for you to come back, Kitten."
A flash of brilliant light, and suddenly Catrina's arms are empty.
"Mama?" But the house is gone. The goons are gone. Tendaji is gone. And her mom is gone, too.
Somewhere far away, a woman named Aishia pauses in her cooking. She looks up at her stretch of farmland and the little garden outside the kitchen window. Aishia smiles at the large tomatoes.
She feels love blossom in her chest.
"I'd wait a thousand years, Kitten."
This was a Dungeon.
Catrina had completely forgotten.
But it had felt so real! The smell, the air, the atmosphere-
…
She wasn't at home at all.
Catrina turns with her heavy feet and walks straight into Centola's embrace, deciding to never let go of the good feeling of her mother's arms.
"This Dungeon is warped."
"You're not the first to say that~" Pseudo sing-songs, prancing over to the group. "Are you ready to give up?"
"No." All three answer at once, surprising the fake-Djinn.
"Good. Losers aren't worthy to be King. Hey, Catrina, what is 'humbleness' to a King?"
"..." Catrina looks at Pseudo for a while. "To a King, humbleness is putting aside your own feelings for the good of others...For the good of your goal."
"...Good answer."
2st Level: Humbleness
Challenger: Catrina
Answer: Correct
A house at the edge of a forest.
A house on fire at the edge of a forest.
"Well...That seemed like it sucked, Hitomi."
"Shut up, Shade."
Nym walks up to them slowly.
"No hesitation...You must be determined."
"I am."
"...I...Well, that's good! I wish my brother Pseudo could see you! Hahaha!"
"Oh, I get it. Pseudo and Nym. Pseudonym. Har-har."
"What's next?"
"Now, now, Shade. Don't rush! What's cruelty, Hitomi?"
A harsh smile.
"Cruelty is crushing others for your goals."
Nym's brightness fades.
"Oh."
1st Level: Cruelty
Challenger: Hitomi
Answer: Obscure
"Time for the third test!" Pseudo announces, flashing a bright smile. "Guess who's next~?"
"Gee, I think it's Eren!" Catrina sarcastically answers, her hold tight on Centola, who shows no objection.
"Correct my friends!" Pseudo falters for a moment.
"What's wrong?" Centola asks cautiously, and the test administrator forces a laugh.
"Nothing, nothing! Let's get going, quickly!"
Once again, the land crumbles underfoot and into blackness they fall.
"Third level: love!"
2st Level: Humbleness
Challenger: Shade(?)
Answer: ?
"Shit, man." Shade doesn't respond to Hitomi's words nor his low whistle.
The blade in his hands is wet with the blood of attackers, and the crying girl behind him refuses to look at him. He refuses to look at her.
I once thought I was good. Now I'm not sure.
"Humbleness is forgetting yourself to help others." Nym surveys the scene.
"...Correct."
2st Level: Humbleness
Challenger: Shade(?)
Answer: Correct
3rd Level: Love
Challenger: Eren
Answer: ?
Eren knew what was happening.
He was going to be thrust into some freaky-ass situation and forced to kill someone he loves (like Centola) or bow in front of someone who hates him (like Catrina).
(Disgusting.)
It was disgusting.
Seere was one sick fuck, of course that's a given considering his elder brother is the creepiest Djinn Eren saw in the manga. That mask always gave Charlie the shivers, and he wasn't exactly sure why. But Eren was confused.
Who exactly was going to appear before him? He didn't hate anyone and wasn't hated by anyone...As far as he knew, at least. Plus this level is 'love', right? Shouldn't this be easy? Oh crap, what is love? He's suppose to answer Seere right?
For Centola and Catrina, their answers came easily. Bitterly, harshly, achingly, but easily. The words slipped from their mouths and to Pseudo's ears in a way that seemed painful and quick. Eren had wished to take their places, to handle all the raw pain himself for the sake of their peace of minds. But he couldn't, and he had to watch Centola's shaking sobs and Catrina's defeated bow.
He felt like...
He felt like he was watching his siblings being humiliated, and he couldn't do anything.
It pissed him off more than he could ever express into words. It made his blood pound in his veins and roar through his heart, shaking a core within him that was usually calm and mellow. Every inch of him exploded with the pure desire to wring Seere's fucking neck, and to destroy all the things in this world that could harm his sisters.
It made his vision go blurry and thoughts of terrible things feel right.
That's how angry Eren was.
This is a Dungeon, this is a Dungeon...
Eren might be stupid, but he realized as soon as the floor gave away beneath him that if he forgot where he was, he was going to lose his battle. he's not like Catrina and Centola, to go smoothly with the scenario placed before them to complete the test. To do things that, if they occurred in real life, they would actually do.
To apologize and to kill.
To kill and to apologize
Eren wouldn't be able to do that.
He just isn't made to-
This is a-
This is home.
He should've known that he'd go back home.
Centola returned to Balbadd...Catrina back that that peaceful looking farming village.
Why wouldn't he appear at the base of the Chandlen Mountains, looking up at the tall pine trees and foggy forest? The pine needles crunched under his feet as he started walking, caught in a dream.
Home.
This must be what Centola and Catrina felt, right? It was this melancholy feeling that absorbed you, lead you up the old paths you recall and would never forget. But it was terrible too, because-
Because-
Because this is where you haven't been in so long, and there is no guarantee that it remembers you like you it.
But it's still home.
He enjoys the crispness of the air. Balbadd (though he'd never say this to Centola) smelled too much like hot salt and garbage for him, and while the scent of Catrina's homeland was something mellow, it was also vibrant and too...Constant for him. Sindria was nice but it was so cramped with citizens that the smells of decaying flowers overwhelmed him.
The Chandlen Mountains smelled fresh.
They didn't consume you with different scents, it just welcomed you with a whiff of pine and then left you alone to enjoy the coolness of the forest and variety of game animals. It was so...Gentle.
Like the people.
The Chandlens had pride for their seasoned and exceptional hunters, but they also cherished their colorful artworks and master dishes prepared by the womenfolk. The Chandlen women were master cooks and artisans, spending most of their time perfecting their skills and exploring each others designs. His mother, Uzza, was like that. She was a wonderful chef, and to be honest she sort of overfed him.
Then again, he usually eats a lot to maintain his enormous muscle mass, but that's not the point.
The morning sun raises behind him, illuminating the fog. It was beautiful and surreal.
He trudges on up the paths, a smile tugging at his lips.
To be back here after five years of travel...It makes him wonder what had changed. Had any of his sisters found good husbands? Did his brother Makin have any more children with his wife? What of his (favorite) brother Haroun? How was he? And Hanif! His father! Did he become chief of the lodge like Uzza always teased him about doing?
Now that he thinks about it, Makin must be forty-one. After all, he is twenty years older than Eren. What a strange, strange thought. Every one must've gotten older, actually.
...
His mother is fifty-seven. His father is fifty-nine. Are they...Are they still alive?
The fifties are a harsh age in this world. Rural folks, like farmers, don't always live past age fifty. Those in the city with access to medical care and make a good living can definitely make it to that age, but...
...
Are his parents still alive?
The thought makes him quicken his pace. What if they're not? What if he never got to see them again? Why hadn't he realized that he never said goodbye to his father?
Then the Chandlen Compounds comes into view.
He slows, because this is definitely not what he had been expecting.
For one thing, it was larger than he remembered. In fact, he wasn't even halfway up the mountain, where it was suppose to be, and yet it's already here, a quarter of the way down.
That's when he realizes why.
People.
People milling around, green haired and brown haired, mostly, chatting and laughing together.
Did...
His head connects the dots. The compound had been opened to strangers...And now it was twice the size it had previously been. It was much, much bigger. He walks out into the open, really hating his height, and tries acting casual as he walks into the Compound. The people notice him. They turn to him, their eyes big, and he wonders if he looks weird or something.
The whispers start.
What?
Then-
"Chief! Chief's back!" Chief? Where?
Someone rushes up to him. He stumbles as they tackle him in a hug, laughing.
"Chief Eren!" Huh? "Welcome home! How was ya trip?"
"Uh- Good?" He poses this like a question, but the boy takes it as a confirmation, smiling.
"I'm so happy you're back!" His face takes a dark turn. "She's been rilin' people up."
She?
A crowd forms around him, pulling him through the large dirt paths through the Compound. The laughter escalates, and calls of, 'Yo, Chief!' and more echo off the wood lodges. He follows only because this is new to him and he'd rather like to see his family, but they seem to be pulling him in a new direction, up the mountain still but also toward a crowded city center.
"Where are we goin'?" A man to his left answers him.
"Sorry Chief, but we'd like to get this 'business' finished quickly."
"What business?"
"The execution." Eren balks, the blood draining from his face. An Execution? Why? What did the person do? And most importantly...Who?
They arrive at the center, and Eren's question is answered.
Disbelief.
Denial.
Coursing thing through his body, running like ice through his veins. How could she be the one they want to execute? There's no way-
This is a Dungeon.
It's not real. It's not real. None of this is real. He should've guessed that the second someone called him 'Chief'. This is nothing. This doesn't count as a betrayal if he's just trying to clear the stage by doing what the sick bastard Seere wants...Right?
Bad stands before him.
Her hands were tied behind her back, but she had that triumphant twinkle in her eye that she always seems to have even when she's in a bad situation. It glows brighter when she sees him. Her purple dress was dirty and her hair ratty because no one had bothered to brush it, but she still looked every bit like the arrogant little brat she was. The smirk playing on her lips intensifies.
"Hey, Chief!" She jokes, the tips of her teeth showing through a crack between her lips. She's making fun of him like she always does, Chief dipped in a sort of hidden humor that they both understand. "How's business?"
"Good," He responds because what else is he suppose to do? "How's bein' tied up?"
"It's...Dang it I had something for this!" Her face scrunches up in concentration. "Something about rope...Or was it string?"
"..." He's suppose to kill her? The Chandlens around him uncomfortably shift. A hunter to his right comes up with a sword.
"Chief, if you will..." He motions to Bad, as if it should be obvious what he's saying.
It's not.
Kill her, huh?
Kill the one single person in this world and the last that actually made him feel special, huh?
No. Not feel special...Made him special. She needed him, and he was there for her. He needed her just as much as she needed him, but in his case it was because he was alone and ordinary and stuck in a world full of magic but he didn't even know it. He needed her to show him how to get to glory, and she led him down a road of brilliance and wonder.
Bad gave him the keys to the world.
Why would he kill someone as precious as her?
"Chief," The hunter insists, pushing the sword into his hands. He takes steps forward. Bad's eyes sparkle even more.
This is a Dungeon.
This isn't his Bad.
"I'm glad it's you," Bad looks up at him. She's always been so tiny compared to his gigantic physique. "I'd really prefer it if it was you."
What does she expect him to do with those words? Accept them? Murder her?
No.
That's not-
She's not my Bad.
She's not his Bad.
He raises the sword, his his arm is weak. He's weak.
"I..."
"Ne, didn't we have fun?" Her eyes close. "Didn't we do so much? I'm happy."
"...I..."
"You and me...Like always. This is a nice ending...For me."
"...You..."
"...I love you, Brother. I'll always be with you-"
Clang
"Ya Idiot!" The sword fell out of his hands. He drops to his knees before her, pulling her into his arms. "Ya self-centered idiot! Don't ya think about anyone else? Don't ya realize that if ya die, Catrina and I won't be able to stand it? Stop bein' so selfish!"
"Eri-?"
"I won't let ya leave me! Catrina...Catrina could get over your death, but not me." His voice turns broken. "Don't you get that? I wouldn't be able to stand it."
"Chief-" A Chandlen starts. Eren turns to him, snarling.
"No. If this is what it takes to become Chief, I don't want it." He stands with Bad in his arms. He clears his throat. "Seere! Ya shitty motherfucker! Listen up 'cause ya obviously don't understand me and what I want!"
The Chandlens all still at once and fade away like mirages.
"My goal ain't makin' a country. It's not becoming a King. This girl," He holds Bad closer, clutching her like she's precious, which she is. "This girl is my goal! And I love her!"
"You love her?"
The Bad in his arms hugs him, tightly.
"Of course I do," Eren rests his chin on her head. "She's my everything."
Pseudo appears in front of him.
"...Not a bad answer, Eren."
3rd Level: Love
Challenger: Eren
Answer: Correct
"To be alone is to be a lack of everything you are, and an entirety of truth."
Is that a lie?
What a pretty lie.
But what an ugly meaning.
Tales to Know
Why Bad Didn't Know Aladdin was a Pervert
The Other
It was a nice day in Balbadd. The birds were chirping, Hakutei was babbling to him about his tutors ("And one keeps on farting, Uncle! Can you believe that? Like, he's talking about the 'history of Balbadd' and then *fart noise*! Seriously!"), and overall, things were peaceful.
"Hm? No, that's totally unbelievable!" Aladdin answers, smiling at his friend's son. The boy beams and nods his head as if that was the answer he wanted.
"Can you help me tell Dad to get rid of him?" The magi shrugs.
"Sure. Where's Alibaba?"
"I dunno." Alibaba walks into the play room. "Just kidding!"
"What're you two up to?"
"We're talking about the old tutor who farts!" Aladdin blinks. Huh, he missed that part. Alibaba chokes on his spit.
"O-oh?"
"Yeah! I swear, it's loud and wet! I think he even sharted one time because he got this horrified look on his face and had to leave the roo-"
"Okay how about we take a break from that, Tei." Alibaba quickly interrupts, ushering his son up and out the door. Aladdin chuckles, following. After sending Hakutei to go find his mother, Alibaba turns to his old friend. "Oh yeah, Aladdin, I have a question to ask about Kouhime."
"What about her?"
"Is she...Unaware of your 'manly interests'?" Instantly Aladdin stops and grabs Alibaba's shoulders, pinning him with a steady gaze. Slowly, as if talking Alibaba down from a ledge, he asks,
"You didn't say anything to her, right?"
Alibaba's eyes narrow.
"You didn't tell her that you're a closet perv."
"You didn't say anything, right?"
"Holy crap she doesn't know her boyfriend used to randomly grab women's breasts." The humorous tone in his voice is intensely ominous to Aladdin.
"Alibaba," He says this with complete seriousness. "Do not tell Hime, okay-"
Too late.
Alibaba's already running.
"Oh, you bitch!" Aladdin calls after him, running as well.
It was a nice day in Balbadd. The birds were chirping, Hakuei was babbling to her about Hakutei's tutors ("And one keeps on farting, Kouhime. It's disgusting. One minute he's talking about the 'history of Balbadd' and then I swear a building explodes. I can smell it through the door."), and overall, things were peaceful.
"That's bad," Kouhime absentmindedly comments, thoughts drifting. Hakuei nods seriously.
"I need to talk to Alibaba about it."
"Hey you two!" The grin the King of Balbadd wore was borderline creepy.
"Speak of the devil!" Hakuei greets her husband.
"I sent Hakutei to go find you, could you go get him?"
"Of course. Be right back!" Kouhime smiles at Alibaba, and the King most definitely smiles back at her.
"Hey, Hime..."
"Yes?"
"Did you know that Al used to-"
Suddenly and without warning, a flash of blue comes out of no where and full on body tackles Alibaba, pinning him to the ground. The King's mouth is covered with a hand, and a ruffled looking Aladdin peers up at her, forcing a smile.
"Hey Hime, how's the weather?"
"...Good?"
"Good! I think Alibaba and I'll take a little walk, see you later!"
(And that is why Bad never knew that Aladdin was a pervert.)
Fun Fact: Eren doesn't get a lot of his own screen time, despite being one of the strongest OCs.
Fun Fact: Catrina's mother believed in a gentle parenting style.
Whenever I read other people's stories, it makes me want to write. That happen to you? BTW SORRY FOR BEING SO LATE HOLY SHIEBE. I do not know how the days flew by so quickly, they just did. Oh and my laptop broke (again, and yes, I BROKE IT IN THE SAME WAY AS BEFORE STOP BEING JUDGMENTAL GOD). So yeah, that made me really depressed and now I'm using my dad's computer to write. Also I have summer homework for an asshole AP course I'm taking next year, so that sorta bitchslapped me pretty hard.
Kouen Monologue in the Beginning: I wish I could tell you this was foreshadowing, but it's kinda not. I just felt like adding to the 'what it means to be king' theme of this chapter.
Seere: This Dungeon was one tough bitch (excuse profanity and pretend Seere is female). To choose a King Vessel, Seere split his Dungeon into three 'levels of kingliness', each representing a quality that Seere believed a true King should possess. Which of course were...
First Level: The first level was 'cruelty' or to make decisions other cannot. Centola faced this challenge and had to kill Khadeja because the woman begged her to do it to foil Al Thamen's plan.
Second Level: The second level was 'humbleness', or to set aside your own feelings for the good of others. Catrina, in this instance had to accept Tendaji's anger and beg him to save her mother.
Third Level: The final level which was 'love', or to never give up on your goals. Eren was told to kill Bad for the good of his country, but Eren refused to do it even though he was aware it wasn't the real Bad, stating that a country was never his aim and that Bad 'is his goal'. This was what Seere wanted, to show that even if you stoop low to achieve your dreams, you should never abandon them.
Shade and Hitomi: AND THE AL THAMEN GOONS STRIKE!
Tales to Know: My version of omakes, but they're often depressing (sorry?). This one was funny though, and I have to hand it to a friend of mine for that (Jankitty) XD
Got any questions or suggestions? Something wrong about the chapter? Grammatical errors, something you didn't like? PM me or leave it in the reviews, I will reply and see what I can do to make the story better/clearer for y'all to understand. ILY MY DARLING READERS!
BYE~~~~~~~