I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.

-[]-[]-[]-

The Letter

-[]-[]-[]-

"Quit... squirming, Michael!" Isis mutters in exasperation as she holds my head still for the doctor. "Do you want your nose to be crooked when he's done with it?"

I'm trying to sit still, but- yeow! I reflexively pull my head back a little when the doctor tries to push the cartilage of my nose back into place. At least the doctor is human and therefore know where my nose should be.

The weapons used in training are either blunted or undercharged, specifically to prevent fatal injury. Still, a sword to the face is going to do some damage, sharpened or not.

Isis firms up her grip. "Seriously, Michael, everything that's happened during training, and this is the thing you can't sit still for the doctor to treat?"

I squeeze my eyes shut, and I feel tears slip out of the corners of my eyes. "Manuel, I can't stand it, I need to bite on something."

"You keep moving your head when you bite, Your Highness" Manuel grimaces as he repositions his hands on my nose. "I can't believe the Mipedians have guns that spit lightning and fire and ice, and yet they haven't made laughing gas."

"How would making him laugh help?" Isis asks.

"No, it's- never mind," Manuel sighs. He gives my nose another push-

"Ow!"

Manuel grits his teeth. I feel so sorry for him, I'm being such a bad patient right now.

There's a pause while Manuel collects his nerves, as do I. Isis sighs, then says, "Michael, can we talk about something?"

"I guess?" I mutter, still antsy about the pain I'm expecting to feel any moment from another positioning attempt on my nose.

"Hera's ten now," Isis begins, and I quickly remind myself that she means solans instead of years, "so I think we can start taking care of another child."

I raise my eyebrows. "Only if I get to participate during conception."

"Of course," Isis grins.

Manuel blinks. "Did... Did you two just agree to having a threesome? Were you seriously discussing that right in front of me?"

The best way to deal with that question is to ignore it. "So, do you have a name in mind?" I ask Isis.

"I was thinking Juel for a girl," Isis muses, "and the only name I can think of for a boy is Zeus, but I don't really really like the way it sounds."

"Jupiter?" I suggest jokingly.

"Who's Jupiter?" Isis asks.

"The Roman god of lightning and thunder," I say. "He's basically the Roman version of Zeus."

Isis tilts her head. "I like the sound of Jupiter. It's a nice, strong name."

I blink. "I... was joking."

"I could tell," Isis admits, "but I like it."

...Well, that was- YEOW!

During my moment of distraction, Manuel had pulled the cartilage of my nose back to where it belongs. I reel backwards and barely stop myself from clutching my nose.

"I still need to wrap that," Manuel says as Isis pushes forwards.

There's a knock on the door. Manuel looks up from his work and shouts, "In a minute!"

A Mipedian voice shouts, "There's a letter for Prince Osiris! It's from Lilth of the Human-Underworlders!"

Manuel raises his eyebrows and glances at me. "Let him in," I say.

-[]-[]-[]-

Manuel puts what is effectively a nose-splint on my face while Isis holds the letter to the side for me to read. It's... well, it's an odd letter.

"'Prince Osiris,'" I read, "'I'm writing to congratulate you turning sixty this solan-' Seriously, Lilth?" I sigh, then continue. "'Here's hoping you continue to look as stunning as when we first met. It's not difficult to see how the princess fell for you.'"

Isis looks ready to tear the letter into pieces. "Can you read the rest of it silently?" she asks, her eyes narrowing.

"Sure," I mutter before continuing.

I also wish to inform you that a mutual acquaintance of ours is expected to be arriving soon. It's doesn't seem like it will take long before he breaks the ice, and I'm sure he has a flood of emotions to show all of us.

Regards, Queen Lilth

P.S. Chaor tripped the other day. He fell for a while. I wish he fell for me the same way a million times. Then he'd be my million.

...What? What is this? I don't even- "Manuel, how close to done are you?"

"Just about," he says. "Just let me... done." He steps aside.

I take the letter from Isis's hands and study it. "This doesn't make any sense," I mutter. "What mutual acquaintance? And what's with this postscript?"

Isis looks over my shoulder, and her angry expression turns into one of confusion. "...What the hell is this?"

I turn the letter to face Manuel. "You have my permission to read this. Can you make anything of it?"

Manuel blinks, then looks at the page. I see his eyes go back and forth, then hover around some particular parts of the page. "Huh. She says 'fell for' twice, one at the beginning and one at the end."

"So?" I ask.

Manuel turns the letter back to me and points at both places the words appear. "She extended the cross of the first letter of the first word to the first letter of the second word in both places."

I hadn't noticed that. I check elsewhere on the page. "And she didn't connect the F's in 'difficult' up there."

I read the letter again, this time out loud.

...Wait...

Fell for... Fell for...

And at the end there. My million.

Fell for. My million. Gah! It's right there! I know what it means! Something to do with the game or show?

Oh crap. "Phelphor!" I shout.

"Yes, those words are connected," Manuel repeats. "I already told you that."

"No!" I grit my teeth together. "It's a name!"

Fell for, my million! Phelphor, M'arrillian!

"I need to go to Underworld City," I say as I stand up. "As soon as possible."

"Why?" Isis asks, a bewildered expression on her face. "What's going on?"

I feel shivers crawl across my body. "The Underworlders found someone who really shouldn't have been found."

Manuel and Isis stare at me like I've gone nuts. I wish that was really the problem, I really do.

-[]-[]-[]-

"Then why not simply say the Underworlders found this Phelphor creature?" Iflar asks. I'm speaking with him in the throne room. He's in charge while his father is away on business. "Why go through the trouble of layering the message inside another one?"

"I don't know," I admit. "Maybe her mail's being checked. Maybe Phelphor's already out of the ice and is peeking inside everyone's heads."

Iflar clenches his teeth and pinches his eye ridges together. "I still can't decide whether to believe you, that these 'M'arrillians' are as dangerous as you claim."

Oh, come on!

Iflar presses his lips together. "Then again, this game some of you Humans spoke about in the past seems to have been right about everything else so far, so it's better that I take this seriously." He closes his eyes and sighs. "Stay safe. You know how Underworlders can be."

"I'm coming too," a voice behind me says.

I turn around in time to see the air behind me flicker, and Isis appears from nowhere as she drops out of invisibility.

Isis glares at me. "You weren't seriously thinking of going alone, were you?"

"No," I say. "I was going to bring Maliph and Malvadine, along with whoever else they suggested." I scratch the side of my head. "I'll need to send a herald ahead of me-"

Isis waves her hand a little. "And you need a few servants along, and a gift for Chaor." Through clenched teeth she adds, "Like he really needs anything else..."

"And why are you coming?" I ask.

Isis gives me an irritated glare. "Because if you go to Underworld City without another member of the royal family, you're going to start talk that Al Mipedim can't afford to have started."

...Right, that little thing. Can't forget about that. "You're right," I relent. "You need to come along as well."

I glance at Iflar. He looks like he wants to object, but he's holding himself back. Instead, he says, "I'll arrange for a team of kozorr for your group to ride."

I bow slightly. "Thank you for all your help, Iflar."

-[]-[]-[]-

Up next: The Long Ride

-[]-[]-[]-

Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.

If you like the story, please follow and leave a review!