Bonding Ties Between Reality and Non-reality
Chapter 12: When The Tides Clash
The enormous kitchen of Vale was most probably one of the busiest places that existed in the whole town of Vale that night. Professional trained chefs industriously cooked mouth-watering, delectable dishes while servant maids busied themselves by running on necessary errands shouted by the people in charge. Heavy smoke was lingering in the air, making the room extremely hot and stifling.
In the midst of the hustle and bustle, a voice was speaking to the headwaiter. "Sir, here's the new replacement for Albert."
"Albert? Oh, you mean the one that suddenly disappeared today mysteriously?"
"Yes, sir. It's as if he's been kidnapped, sir—"
The headwaiter waved away the suggestion irritably. "Nonsense. Who and why would anyone kidnap someone who couldn't hurt a fly like him?"
"That's the question, sir. Seeing as we still haven't been able to trace him for some odd reason, and what with today being a busy day for us and all . . ."
"Of course, of course. So you're the new replacement, huh?"
A husky voice replied. "Yes, sir."
"Hmm . . . you don't look like the good type I'd hire, but we've got no time to be picky."
The new waiter smirked. "No, sir."
"Now get going and busy yourself; we've not a moment to spare today! And clean yourself up properly first, mind you!"
----o----
"And now, please enjoy yourselves, ladies and gentlemen. Food shall be served in an hour."
Turning sideways towards the King and Queen of Vale seated on their respective places on the stage with their royal robes donned on, Ivan Ferrier and Sheba Raos bowed in full respect. King Kyle and Queen Dora smiled back.
"Both of you are really great at being emcees, Ivan, Sheba. The speech was simply wonderful." Queen Dora praised warmly, her hair neatly tied in a bun with small curls let down at the side of her face. Beside her, King Kyle nodded his head in agreement.
"Thank you, Your Majesty." They both simultaneously chorused, bowing once more.
"Oh no, just call me Aunt Dora, if you please. Both of you have been with us for so long that I cannot help but feel as though you are my nephew and niece." She winked merrily. "Ah yes, and don't forget, Uncle Kyle at that too. That all right with you, dear?"
Kyle looked amused at the ring of the name, but nevertheless he complied with his wife. "Yes, I suppose so. It does sound more . . . welcoming."
"Very well then, Uncle Kyle, Aunt Dora." Sheba beamed.
"Father, Mother."
Prince Isaac stepped into view, bowing slightly as he approached his parents, his azure eyes smiling. Parking himself restlessly on his royal seat during Ivan and Sheba's speech a few minutes ago, he had felt somewhat awkward and gawky, uncomfortable. Not like he ever minded the looks and stares given to him; oh no, he was perfectly used to it ever since young.
He just felt a little . . . bizarre with all those women-piercing direct stares thrown at him. He could scarcely wait for all of the speeches to end (including his brief one that he felt was almost only mediocre compared to the blondes' wonderful speeches) and join his parents and friends. Some women, he noted, just could not restrain—no, he had phrased it the wrong way; some of them hardly bothered to try concealing their evident feelings. If he had looked at the wrong way, he was quite convinced that he would have felt sick . . .
"Yes, Isaac?" Kyle looked over to his son proudly. He was never happier to own such a son like him; he was everything Kyle and Dora wished for. He could see the potential, strength, kindness and charisma in those clear, deep azure eyes; he would make a great king and leader, there was no doubt about it. Vale was safe in those hands in the future, and there was nothing else happier for the well-loved king than to witness his own kingdom prosper by the hands of his only son.
Straightening his back with a low grunt, Prince Isaac spoke after casting a merry smile to the two blondes standing at the side. "No, it is nothing, Father. Did I perhaps interrupt anything?"
"Don't worry, Isaac. We were just having a nice tête-à-tête. Oh, and have you seen Garet by chance? I have not seen him for the past half-hour, which is frankly put, quite surprising. I thought that he would have been with you, Isaac," said his mother, laying approving eyes on her well turned-out son.
"Well, yes, he was. I have not seen him for some time too . . . I wonder where he has gone off to."
Ivan stepped forward and volunteered. "Maybe we should search for him. Anyhow, Sheba and I would like to join the crowd and find our friends too."
"Very well. Son, you go ahead too. Enjoy yourself, all right?"
"Thank you, Father, Mother."
"Then, excuse us, Your Highnesses."
----o----
". . . Wow . . . beautiful . . . " Garet stuttered.
Jenna rolled her eyes. "I see that you're the keen observer of the very obvious, Garet," she remarked sarcastically. "Of course Mia's beautiful! And she doesn't need beautiful clothes to make her look pretty, mind you." She smiled as she checked over the astounded aqua-haired young woman with an appraising fashion eye, satisfied with her work.
In an inkling of an eye, Jenna's childish-looking wand had totally changed young Mia's outfit. Instead of her usual worn-out, shapeless daily garb, her attire was now the exact reverse of it. It was one of the most magnificent gowns any tailor would have been tremendously and exceptionally proud to create.
Her ball gown was a crystal-coloured short-sleeved long dress, made from the finest silk and cotton imaginable. Tiny but exquisite peach-coloured pearls hung down from the soft white collar, and a silver sash was tied in a ribbon at the waistline. The three-layered fluffy skirt was of a slightly darker shade of crystal blue, with silver linings at the sides to produce a slimmer effect. Little sequins were arranged neatly and beautifully at the laces of the dress, making the dress more glamorously magnificent than ever.
But the dress was not the main attraction; far from it—in truth, as splendid as the gown was, it was outshone by the actual person adorning it. Instead of the usual ponytail that Mia had, her glossy aqua hair was tied nicely in a plait, and then rolled into a neat bun. Small French braids enveloped the frame of her face attractively, and a few short wisps of hair were purposely let down to make a slight fringe. Instead of her stud-shaped earrings, Mia now donned a dangling pair of gold earrings with intricate designs. And to top it off, Jenna had included lip-gloss on Mia's rosy pink lips, long lacy white gloves, a delicate crystal-made bangle on each wrist, and a pair of high-heeled glass shoes.
"Wow . . . this is . . ." Mia breathed sharply, looking down at her own appearance with wonder as her feminine eyes marveled at the dress.
"Too speechless to say anything?" Jenna winked cheerfully.
She suddenly laughed. "Well . . . yes. I feel so posh, rich and high-class all of a sudden," said she. "And considering what I've been wearing years ago until now, I feel as though all of these aren't suited for me."
"Rubbish!" Jenna replied smilingly. "Fiddlesticks! I'll smack anyone else who says that," she declared, giving an 'including-you' warning look to Garet at the same time, which he decided to ignore.
"Let's quickly go now. We don't want to be too late to warn Isaac!" he warned.
Jenna passed back the tiny wand to him. "All right. I guess we're all ready now—"
"Wait!" Mia exclaimed. A disastrous thought had struck her. "How about my room? Who's gonna clean it up while we're all away?" She clutched the hem of her dress frantically, careful not to let the long skirt brush against the dirty floor.
Her young godmother paused for a moment. "That's true . . ." She frowned. "Now that's some problem . . . we can't just leave the mess, can we? It might rouse your stepfamily's suspicion if they come back and find the room not cleaned yet when you're supposed to have all the time in the world," said she.
"Well, let's just ask the djinn to clean up!" Garet suggested. "Not a bad idea, eh?"
Immediately, Forge resurfaced on the redhead's shoulder. "Let me tell you, don't count me in. I positively hate cleaning," he said, shaking his small head violently. "In fact, I believe we all do. Let's see . . . any volunteers who don't mind cleaning this messy room, come out now," he commanded.
As Forge suspected, no djinni appeared. Both Garet and Jenna groaned.
"See? We all hate cleaning. You should have seen how our home was like in the previous days!" Forge chuckled.
We'd gladly offer help clean the room, Mia, but we have to protect you. . . Fizz explained apologetically in Mia, a hollow voice. The young woman now dressed beautifully shook her head, replying that she understood perfectly, and that they had done more than enough for her sake.
"Look, we don't have the time!" Garet half-snapped, a scowl appearing. "Alright; Granite, Ground, Bane, you're gonna clean up the place. And is it okay if Flash helps too, Jenna?"
The person in question cocked her head. "Yeah, sure . . ." she agreed readily. "Flash? You heard that. Come out now," she called aloud. At that moment, she was about to ask why she had to spare only one of her djinn whereas her fellow partner spared three, but closed her mouth again as she formed her own plausible inferences. It's either he's starting to learn to be nice, or he has problem counting simple math, she deduced.
Four simultaneous groans arose as four djinn appeared, three Venus djinn and one Mars. They hopped on the floor, grunting and complaining in their high-pitched voices.
"No use complaining, people. We've got work to do, and so have you!" Jenna warned. "Make sure everything's spick and span by the time we come back to pick you guys up, okay?"
"Yes, ma'am," the four djinn replied sarcastically.
"Hey, where can I get the broom, miss?" a Venus djinn asked (or so Mia assumed, by the colour of its body). "Otherwise we'll never get started."
Mia smiled, amused by their antics. "You can find a broom and dustpan in the cupboard, a wastepaper basket just outside my room, and some pieces of cloth in the small bucket also in the cupboard if you want to wipe anything," she explained. "Thank you so much!" she added with a gracious smile.
The four djinn all beamed back at her cutely. "Welcome!"
"We'll polish this whole thing up; see if we don't!" the Mars djinni claimed.
"We're counting on you four!" Jenna reminded.
"Alright, I don't think we've missed anything important . . . let's go now," Garet suggested. His mind kept focusing on the stepfamily's plan to poison Isaac's mind, and with every passing second, his anger started to brew. We have to act quickly, and let Mia warn him of the danger before the stepfamily budges in with their plan. Mars, I hope Isaac won't disbelieve her. And he better take to her . . .
Both females nodded their heads in response.
"Come closer. We'll teleport back instantly to the castle grounds."
"Good luck!" the djinn cheered.
As Mia stepped closer to the other two, she could feel her heart beating just so ever slightly faster. She realised that the 'moment' was nearing; where she could finally meet this very person, where she had to warn him of the imminent danger, where it all mattered the most.
Deep inside, she deeply wondered if she could succeed to make the prince believe her; it was the truth she would be speaking to him, but to anyone else it would seem like a ridiculous, daft rigmarole in hopes to destroy the whole party ball event. Mia could not blame them if the prince were to entertain such thoughts.
Even now, she sometimes dazedly wondered if this was some kind of dangerous fuzzy dream. But now's not the time to worry; I have to concentrate in what I'm doing and help! I must keep an eye for Merlina, Menardi and Karst . . . even though they did say that there will be eye-masks in the ball, there's still a chance that they will spot me through this disguise. I can't take that risk. If what Sister Jenna and Garet say is true, then I don't have much means to protect myself if they attack me full-force. I'll just have to lie low, she decided.
Garet closed his eyes as he concentrated on channeling his Psynergy power. Compared to his Mars Adept partner, he was physically much stronger, but she was more agile, and her mental capacity rooted firmer. A fiery but protective aura seemed to radiate around him, signifying the symbol of Mars. A light ray began to circle around him as he opened his eyes and declared:
"Teleport!"
As soon as the word was uttered, Mia felt her whole body–limbs, muscles, tendons, ligaments and all–breaking (she could find no other better replacement for the word) into hundreds of those small circles of multiple colours that she had saw earlier, when Jenna and Garet had first appeared in her room.
It was such a odd feeling for a first experience; she felt herself floating in mid-air with the other two Mars Adepts, and before she knew it, the three of them had flew off in an unbelievably rapid speed through the dark, ominous night sky. She felt the wind rushing past her, the buildings zooming away, and even zooming past frightened birds as they picked up even more speed.
She felt so incredibly light.
----o----
"Where have you 'deposited' the poor imbecile of a waiter?"
He chuckled. "Just knocked him out and left him in an alley. I'm sure he'll come to and find his way back. You trust the other man to do his job?"
"I have no doubt he will do as I have ordered him to. The commission is hardly to be passed over lightly, and he will not split either. These rogues are occasionally useful."
"Your brains are, as always, up to the task, eh?"
"Why, thank you. Are you sure they will not escape while you are here?"
A sneering smirk. "Hmph, of course. My inventions are specially designed imbued with Psynergy connected with high voltage of electricity. They will not attempt such foolhardy actions."
"How many are there?"
"Approximately on the range of forty to fifty. It is either some of them have managed to avoid us, or . . ."
"Yes, I know. And she has a few of them, I gather . . . we have yet to feel safe. She might have friends who have them. I highly doubt it, but one must take no chances. If a fight must ensue . . ."
"Rest assured, I am always ready at your service." A mock bow flourished. "If there is need, 'it' will be executed."
"Ah, you managed to invent it?"
"But definitely! It is my proudest work so far."
His companion laughed confidently. "My dear Saturos, one could always rely on you."
----o----
"Anyone interesting yet, Your Highness?" Sheba asked slyly, a teasing smile on her lips.
Prince Isaac laughed indifferently, setting his glass of champagne on the table. "Ah, but it is that you mock at me, Sheba! No," said he, "no one of any particular 'interest' yet, as you phrase it." He leaned back on the chair he occupied leisurely.
Across him Ivan Ferrier grinned. "If Flint were to be here now, Jupiter knows what he would do."
At the mention of the little Venus djinni, a thought struck Felix Segrave who was seated adjacent to young Ivan, who queried: "Speaking of the djinn, Your Highness, was there not word regarding the other djinn that they would congregate here in Vale around this time?"
"Yes, that is, on the word of Master Hama. I have no doubts whatsoever vis-à-vis her competence and precision, but as it stands . . ." he paused briefly, a frown creasing his brow.
"There has been neither appearance nor news a propos them at all?" Ivan suggested helpfully.
Isaac nodded. "Exactly. Even Flint is quite worried and troubled now, the poor fellow. Of course, he realises that djinn may be inaccurate in certain matters, but he is positively certain that they constantly stick to their scheduled time."
"I see . . ." Ivan muttered.
"Today is exactly the last day of December; in other words, also the last day of the month that the djinn planned to reassemble once more. Yet, there has been no news ever since the beginning of the month until now . . ."
Sheba's green eyes flickered for a moment as she leaned forward interestedly. "Do you suspect foul play, Your Highness?" Even though not above twenty years of age, Sheba Raos possessed sharp brains and great intellect that could easily match any adult, or even more so.
". . . I can only hope for the best," was his only crestfallen answer.
"But foul play seems to be strongly indicated here," Felix pointed impassively, "for to have not even one djinn out of seventy-two make an appearance in thirty-one days falls naturally beyond any normal circumstances."
"Certainly a vexing problem," Sheba mused. "Flint must be quite distressed."
Ivan waved an agitated hand, very nearly upsetting his glass of drink. "But it does not make sense. You comprehend, if foul play is the cause, who in Angara would want to capture or kidnap djinn? In the first place, djinn are only known to few selected people, and even at that, what would one gain from taking them hostage?" he protested.
"Exactly!" the prince exclaimed. "Unless there is some mad Adept on loose that hunts djinn, there does not seem to be any other feasible theory that fits in the bill of logic! Opportunity is one thing, but motive is a very different thing altogether."
"But if something has happened to them, would Master Hama not receive any information regarding them? Those djinn in contact with her would most probably, I think, reach out to her when in need of aid," Sheba reasoned out.
"Unless some power or force is preventing them from doing so . . ." Felix mused.
The blond boy beside him started and suddenly stared at Felix unblinkingly. "Felix! You've got it!"
The man in question merely raised his eyebrows inquiringly. "What do you mean?"
"Yes, yes, it is a possible link there . . ." Ivan muttered. He was about to speak aloud his mind when another thought struck him, and he stopped for a moment. Hastily closing his mouth, he shook his head with a trace of regret in pretence.
"No, nothing. Nothing at all," he hurriedly said. "I-I was thinking of something else." He then kicked Sheba's leg lightly, hoping she would understand his message by altering the topic. If he was correct in his surmise, then it would mean that the fraught difficulties in Master Hama's communication with the spirits (and probably djinn too) and the impending danger against the royal family were related! He had agreed with his sister that no word was to reach the prince's ears until 'sufficient evidence was produced', so he would keep his mouth shut.
The girl turned her head a tad too obviously, but indeed, she interpreted the signal correctly and changed the course of the subject skillfully. "By the way, did you manage to find either Garet or Jenna, Felix?"
Felix shook his head negatively. "I've searched all over the castle, but—" he left the sentence unfinished, shrugging his shoulders.
"Maybe dinner hasn't been served yet, that's why Garet isn't here," Sheba deduced with a tinge of sarcasm. Everyone in the castle knew Prince Isaac's godfather, Garet Jerra, and his never-ending, amazing craze for food. Somehow or other he managed to make himself a favourite among the kitchen populace, and he was proud of it.
Prince Isaac and Ivan chuckled. "Wait till he hears that," Ivan warned with a playful finger, "he would go up in smoke." He inwardly sighed in relief; Sheba was always relatively clever in changing topics.
"Then he has since vanished for a good half an hour," Prince Isaac remarked, as he consulted the enormous grandfather clock. "I wonder what—"
But what the golden-haired prince wondered nobody knew, for at that moment a conspicuous and decidedly flamboyant middle-aged lady advanced upon him in a tigress-like manner, gushing introductory remarks in an unnecessarily shrill pitch of excitement. Prince Isaac could hardly get a word of despair in.
"Uh oh . . ." he muttered under his breath. What can I do? Flashing a resigned comical look towards his three friends, he let himself be led away ruefully by the energized lady with slightly pink cheeks in due embarrassment.
"The poor prince . . ." Ivan sympathised, chuckling.
"Well, if anything, we can now talk freely about the 'premonition' that you and Master Hama had earlier on," Sheba pointed. "What in the world exactly is it all about? And why did you want me to change the subject?" she asked curiously.
"It was rather obvious, if I may say so," remarked Felix objectively.
Ivan grinned sheepishly. "Ah well . . ."
"Wait," said Felix authoritatively. "Since it is something crucial, let's go out to the gardens where we can talk freely and not be overheard," he suggested.
Both blondes agreed and soon they extracted themselves from the huge chattering swarm of people. As they pushed edged through the crowd, Felix's careless glance had suddenly been attracted to a pair of wine-coloured eyes momentarily. Their eyes met for a fleeting second. He was struck by it. Not that he had never seen eyes with that colour before, no; but something nagged him at the back of his mind. It vaguely reminded him of a fiery blaze . . . a dangerous look . . .
He shrugged it off. He had other pressing matters to think of rather than red eyes and flames, be it dangerous or mild-mannered.
----o----
Prince Isaac heaved a sigh of relief. He had finally managed to detach himself from the screeching-sounding Lady Imelda with a considerable amount of exertion on a false pretext. He was rather dead beat of looking at women everywhere he went, and it was not an everyday ritual that he was virtually overcrowded by the opposite sex in such an embarrassing conduct.
He was tired of listening to women talk nineteen to the dozen about how much they knew about this so-and-so, tired of their attitude that seemingly knew everything in order to impress him, tired of dancing with women (who could all dance so perfectly that it appeared dubious to him) until it was a mechanical act, tired of conversing about politics and economies, and tired of a good many things that he found characteristic in most of the women he met.
Garet had once unkindly declared that women 'prattled and babbled', but now he was just about to agree with him enthusiastically and wholeheartedly. He was, at present, fervently thankful that his dear mother never 'prattled'.
If he was having second thoughts about the whole idea of a ball earlier on, he was now almost prepared to march up to his parents and announce that he was tired of women. He grinned wryly to himself at the dry joke.
He looked around in mock despair. By the time the gong sounded for dinner, he was expected to bring someone over to the royal family's table, where his parents could connect with that someone and sign their own approval before the king heralded his son's engagement by the end of the night. And judging from the ancestral grandfather clock, he had only slightly more than half an hour's time before dinner commenced.
He hadn't found his needle in his haystack. He had only been digging up hay, hay and nothing else but worthless hay the whole time.
He had to look harder, search even more zealously than ever, redouble his efforts.
"Prince Isaac, am I not right?"
----o----
Exiting the side door that led to the beautiful alluring gardens, Ivan, Sheba and Felix sat down comfortably on a couple of benches overlooking a small but neat pond, charmingly planted with lilies. With tall and cumbersome trees as a shield, it was an ideal obscured spot.
"Spill the beans," Sheba ordered.
Shortly but briefly, the prince's personal advisor recounted to them the recent occurrence of events that had led the Jupiter Adept siblings shaken with worry.
All three faces appeared troubled by the time Ivan had finished his story.
"Furthermore, I have now this theory where it links with the unaccounted disappearance of the djinn," Ivan continued, "Supposing that the djinn have been captured for some particular reason, say, in special magical walls; then these walls would be the 'barrier' that my sister has often encountered during her meditations. And what if they had been suppressed in order not to warn us of the impending danger that is to befall the royal family?"
Both Felix and Sheba were pondering upon the new idea. "Hmm. . ." Felix mused as he rubbed his chin. "Yes, it is mildly possible. But that would mean that the djinn have still succeeded in conveying the message."
On the other hand, the blonde was decidedly annoyed. "Blasphemy! Do you both not notice that there are way too many coincidences? Too many, I tell you! First there is the fact that seventy-two djinn are gathering here in Vale—of all places! Then they are to be captured, and there forms the barrier against Master Hama and the djinn—another miraculous coincidence! And now we think that they are captured so that they cannot leak to us the impending danger—too coincidental!" she exclaimed in a frustrated manner. "Reflect carefully; how do these evil beings know that the djinn are in contact with us in the first place?"
"Hey, calm down, Sheba," Ivan soothed. "Don't get so heated up! It's just an idea, that's all."
"Naturally, it does appear a bit too coincidental," Felix said cautiously. "There might be a simpler solution to the matter, of course."
Sighing as she calmed down, Sheba adjusted her eye-mask delicately. "Anyway, this djinn matter is not as important as the imminent menace now. This djinn matter can wait," she said firmly.
"Of course, we are all taking it for granted that this 'evil'—I prefer to call it that way—will happen tonight," Ivan hastened to say, "though there is no definite evidence to think that at all. Raison d'être is very shaky. It is only my instincts that jump to conclusions, you comprehend." He fumbled with his hands in agitation.
The russet-haired man acquiesced with a bare nod. "Naturally. But still, instincts are necessary. They are not called instincts if they do not have an inkling of the truth."
"But it is difficult," Sheba complained, her emerald eyes darkening. "What are we to do? We can only tighten our securities and keep an alert eye, but we have no certain preventive measures if anything should happen. We do not know who, what, where, when and how."
"Exactly. That is all we can do at the moment. I just pray hard that it will not occur tonight. His Majesty cannot afford to have the whole affair turning into a great turmoil and wreck havoc. Pandemonium," Ivan gravely said.
"Whatever it is, we must not tell anyone else about this," Felix persisted. "As you say, it might as well be a hoax ultimately. We will keep this to ourselves, and ourselves only."
Ivan and Sheba nodded in assent. "How about Garet and Jenna?" the female asked.
Felix Segrave paused thoughtfully, his impassive deep brown eyes gazing at the night sky. "We will tell them," said he. "In case anything happens, we could do with more hands. They will be of great assistance."
"Should we notify Piers and Alex about this as well?" Ivan inquired.
Piers and Alex Lucerne (1) were joint head generals in charge of Vale's army. Hailing from a rural village, the siblings had signed up as soldiers during the new recruitment season for Vale's hoard of militia. Though new and untrained, their raw potential was recognised in due course and through their consistency in diligence, attentiveness and hard work, they had marvelously earned their way up in Vale's army through the position of section leader, captain, assistant lieutenant, lieutenant, head of Regiment A and B, and finally to the top rank only in three years.
Both men were masters in the arts of swordsmanship, and had contributed a great deal in upholding peace and safety in the country of Vale. Their integrity, unwavering steadfastness and sheer loyalty to their country were highly praised and exalted.
"Maybe a word of caution would be advisable, yes," Felix admitted. As far as he knew, the Lucerne brothers were respectable, trustable people. Not that he ever questioned the king's decision in appointing them as joint head generals, though. It was in his nature to size anyone up himself to satisfy his own need to be sure.
Sheba Raos nodded her head appreciatively. "Yes, they can be trusted. I've spoken to them during my visits to the training grounds, and they seem friendly, dependable enough," she remarked. "Reliable."
"Then I will forewarn them at once," said Ivan. "It is perhaps a pity that His Majesty has let some guards off tonight," he added on an afterthought.
"No doubt His Majesty meant to be generous as to let them relax and enjoy this rare occasion. But at least the securities are not all disengaged, but only lessened. I am sure His Majesty knows what he is doing."
"It is imperative that we do not let the prince know of this," Sheba reminded. "It would only make him incapable to concentrate. And he is the star of the night! No," she shook her head resolutely, "we will tell him tomorrow, when it is all over."
Ivan Ferrier sighed, deeply troubled. Life is full of hazards, he remembered his wise sister telling him. Why did he get this unerring feeling of dread that something . . . something was about to happen? Was it another of his additional impulses, his sixth sense, as a Wind Adept?
Even if this 'evil' did not plague the royal family tonight, it would sooner or later ascend, and then . . . what would happen, he wondered?
"I wish I could look into the future," he said wistfully.
----o----
"We have to be ready now," Garet warned.
Mia felt a surge of thrill flowing through her veins. As much as the situation was deadly urgent and critical, she could not resist the feeling of excitement mixed with enthusiasm and zeal tingling through her skin with anticipation. She was, as she indirectly realised, playing the role of 'la heroine' for the very first time in her life, like those heroes and heroines in fairy tales that her late mother had told her many a time during her younger days.
Reproaching herself mildly for musing upon such insignificant imbecilities, she reprimanded herself to the current task at hand. She held her skirt gingerly as she carefully stepped on her new high-heeled glass shoes behind Jenna Segrave. They walked in a single line, Garet Jerra leading them towards the side door that led to the ballroom.
The Teleport skill that the spiky redhead had cast brought them to a lonely spot in the castle gardens. For a moment, young Mia was greatly enchanted with the gloriousness of the beauty that greeted her. So captivated she was that she had almost tripped herself up by stepping on the end of her evening gown. It was such a blissful paradise; beautiful, serene and tranquil. Even the darkest hours of the night could not veil its dazzling radiance, she thought.
Garet pointed to an opened door a few feet away with two stationary guards in armour on each side. "That's the side door leading to the ballroom. It's faster this way than using the long way through the proper front entrance."
"Here," said Jenna, handing a turquoise-coloured eye-mask sprinkled with delightful silver glitters to the aqua-haired young woman. "This is a masked ball, so you have to wear it. I thought this blue one would suit you."
Mia smiled gratefully at her young godmother, nodding a word of thanks as she gently slipped it on. She felt strange wearing such unknown things, but slowly adjusted herself to it. She knew she would not recognise herself were she to look in a mirror. She was in full disguise.
"Ah yes, I forgot to tell you something, Mia," Jenna suddenly exclaimed.
Mia cocked her head curiously. "Yes?"
"It's nothing much, but I have to warn you that this . . . 'magic' with the wand is only temporary."
Her jaw dropped in confusion. ". . . What?"
"It will only last until twelve o'clock midnight," Garet explained. "Meaning that we must go before midnight, unless you want to be seen with your old clothes and your identity revealed," he finished with a goofy grin.
"Don't worry, that gives us ample time. Just a warning in case we somehow stay late here," Jenna reassured, smoothing her crimson-coloured hair with her gloved hand.
". . . Alright," said Mia. Some things are better off unexplained, I suppose. "I'll take it that the wand is quite weird."
Jenna laughed. "Oh, it's a weird wand, no doubt about that."
"Now remember, Mia; warn the prince of the danger," Garet reminded.
"If he doesn't believe you, then just stay near him and make sure that stepfamily of yours don't go near him. We don't know how they will administer the potion to him, so the best thing is to make sure they stay clear from Prince Isaac," Jenna added firmly.
"Don't worry. We'll introduce you to him first, then we'll go away on a false pretext, but we'll actually stay near you at a distance, so don't worry about anything. If Isaac disbelieves you, just give some kind of signal and we'll be there at once," the redhead reassured comfortingly.
His female partner nodded in assent. "I doubt they will risk causing an open ruckus by fighting or anything in front of the king and queen, but just stay alert at all times just in case, okay? You should be pretty safe, and your djinn will protect you."
Mia nodded her head again bravely. "Got it." I'm counting on you guys, djinn!
We won't let you down, don't worry! The djinn inwardly reassured her confidently.
"Well, this is it," Jenna exclaimed. "Don't be afraid, Mia. You can do it!" she cheered, patting Mia's shoulder comfortingly.
This is it . . . she echoed. The moment of truth . . . pray Mercury that I won't mess the whole thing up . . .
"Just relax; everything will turn out all right, you'll see," Garet grinned. "Don't let this whole mess bother you so much; enjoy the night! It's a ball, your first and maybe last, so make full use of it!"
Mia smiled. Garet's indomitable spirit truly had a curious knack in always seeing the good side of everything, even bad things.
As she approached the beckoning door with Jenna at her side, her mind mentally rehearsed through the lines that she would recite out to the prince. It all sounded so outrageous to herself that she was seriously considering whether the prince would even believe half of her story; it was such like a preposterous melodramatic fairy tale!
Oh dear, if only she could just forget everything, this whole nightmare . . . but it was yet to be over with. Her ordeal was by far only midway.
"'Evening, sir," the guards saluted to Garet. To this Mia raised her eyebrow in a surprised fashion, but her frown immediately cleared when she remembered the little fact that he had admitted earlier about being the prince's godfather.
It must be so wonderful to be surrounded by riches and wealth . . . it must be heaven for those poor villagers. At this moment, her mind wandered far away to her original hometown, the village of Imil. I wonder how the Imilians are faring right now . . . I do hope they're all doing fine. Miss them . . .
As Garet moved ahead into the ballroom, he gave a whoop of joy. "They haven't started eating yet, meaning I haven't missed anything yet! Joy!"
Jenna rolled her eyes helplessly. "What a glutton. That's all you can think about now?" she said sarcastically. Then she lowered her voice: "I hope they haven't poisoned the prince's drink or anything yet . . . we must be in time. We have to find him quickly," she muttered worriedly. They had to be in time so that Garet and her plans wouldn't be upset too . . . playing the side role of matchmaker needed precision, no flaws.
"We'll just have to pray that they haven't done anything yet," said Mia ruefully.
Taking her hand, Jenna kindly guided her godchild into the enormous ballroom.
"Welcome to the ball," said she, smiling.
Subconsciously, Mia held her breath as she stepped into the largest and most magnificent room she had ever saw, literally chock-a-block with hundreds and thousands of people from all over the world. She gazed with quiet awe as she took in every detail, from the beautifully-draped walls down to the huge crowd, and finally resting her eyes for the first time on the King and Queen of Vale. Her hand stole to her chest as she gaped silently, her mouth slightly ajar. She was so timidly small. It was like a new, unknown world, and she was like the newborn baby.
As if she had just moved from the old ages into proper civilization.
Father, Mother, pray for your daughter. . .
----o----
"Prince Isaac, am I not right?"
Prince Isaac snapped out of his thoughts and whirled around to face the feminine voice that had hailed him. He saw a middle-aged Proxian woman (her nationality was easily defined from her physical features), wearing a violet gown that fitted her well. She had sharp features and swift, birdlike eyes that the prince was quick to appraise with mild appreciation. Here, at least, there was someone who was not all prettiness and feather-brained.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness." She immediately curtsied politely and smiled, extending a hand.
As a custom, he lightly kissed her gloved hand in politeness. "No, it is my pleasure wholly," he replied, feeling a bit mechanical as he did so. How many times had he kissed hands and uttered the same monotonous syllable? He had unfortunately lost count. "And you are. . .?"
"Merlina Larfax, my lord."
Larfax. . . now where did I hear it before. . . oh, of course! The Larfax family is one of the popular well-bred families in Prox, quite wealthy. . . "Ah," he uttered ambiguously. "It is a night where I meet many delightful acquaintances."
The lady chuckled. "Indeed. As a matter of fact, I was hoping Your Highness would be able to meet my two dear daughters, Menardi and Karst. They've been positively longing to meet you for a long, long time. A pity they've wandered away by themselves."
"I hope I shall have the pleasure of meeting them soon."
Merlina smiled prettily. "In the mean time, I would like to wish Your Highness the greatest success in finding your future bride," said she. Looking sideways, she signaled to a nearby waiter serving drinks in a black tray.
He immediately approached her with two glasses on his tray. "Sherry or champagne, Madame?" he inquired politely, his voice husky.
"But sherry. Champagne is not my cup of coffee, I fear," Merlina replied, laughing.
The waiter then handed her glass with a small bow. "Your drink, Madame." They exchanged quick glances for a fleeting moment before the husky-voiced waiter bowed to the prince this time with the remaining glass on the tray. "Your Highness."
Prince Isaac took the glass unsuspectingly with a bare nod. "Thank you."
"A toast, to your future bride," Merlina cheered, their glasses chinking with a light sound as they met. She sipped her drink noiselessly, watching the prince astutely from the corner of her birdlike eyes.
She smirked triumphantly as the prince innocently raised the glass to his lips.
----o----
Look for a maroon-haired female Proxian, Mia kept chanting subconsciously. While tall Garet was searching fervently for the prince, she had assigned herself into searching for any members of her stepfamily. Finding the prince was one thing; shadowing the stepfamily was quite another thing altogether. As Jenna had logically pointed, it would be hard to keep an eye on three persons, as they might possibly separate themselves one way or other. As long as they kept a keen eye on Prince Isaac, sooner or later the stepfamily would have to come and induce their poison by whatever way they had decided upon.
The real danger was that they had no idea how they would do it. As hard as they thought, inducing poison through a drink seemed the best and most probable solution. Yet, as Mia reasoned out, Merlina and her daughters were dreadfully cunning when they put their minds to something. If they really employed their wits, they wouldn't bet their money on such an obvious method. Maybe they had a double-plan that was by far more ingenious than any of the solutions that the three of them could think of.
It's all so dreadfully confusing, Mia inwardly groaned, vexed. I hardly know anything! And we're just getting pushed and shoved by standing here in the middle of the crowd. . .
Her eyes darted quickly as she scanned her eye around the crowd, skimming over many heads of all possible colours. Crimson, auburn, lavender, fuchsia, black, chocolate-brown, jade-coloured, just name any colour of the hair you could ever think of; it was all there. Ladies had expertly arranged their hairdos in all possible ways imaginable. Their dresses and gowns were of the finest quality she had ever seen in her life, a good number of them hugging their body curves perfectly.
They all made her look so unflattering in such a brusque way.
She was more than dead certain that she would not qualify as a bride candidate. She was unquestionably no match for all these other beautiful, gorgeous ladies. And who was she anyway? No one of any importance, a nobody. A prince would naturally not stoop down to a lowly servant girl like her when there were stunning single duchesses or those women whose names bore great meaning to the world to choose from.
"Quick, can you see her anywhere?" Jenna asked her godchild, anxiety clear in her ruby-coloured eyes.
Mia started involuntarily as she snapped out from her reverie at the back of her mind. "No, I can't," she replied, her voice fearful and panicky. "there are just too many people around here!"
"There he is!" Garet half-shouted suddenly. He impatiently pointed a clumsy forefinger at the east wing of the room, just as packed with people as it was on their west wing.
"Where?" Jenna hurriedly asked.
"There! That one! The spiky golden-haired one right at the corner, near the tables!" he replied with gusto. "See him?"
The aqua-haired young woman's heart leaped. She hardly knew whether it was a leap of enthusiasm because she was finally about to meet the 'man of every woman's dream' (or so she had heard in various gossips), or a leap of nervous strain as her half-dreaded task was about to commence. Her eyes told her that he was a pleasant-looking young man, but she could hardly perceive any specific further details due to the far distance.
"Oh! Talking to that redheaded woman, right? Proxian, I think?"
Jenna's statement of confirmation was utterly harmless, but it triggered a new set of emotions in Mia. She squinted her eyes in great efforts to focus her eyes at the subject of Jenna's sentences, and her heart leaped again.
Only this time, she knew it was deep fear.
"It's her . . ." she whispered hoarsely. "It's her!" she half-shouted to her two companions in the buzz of the crowd. "My stepmother!"
Garet gave a start. "Damn! Do you think they're already starting their plan of action? Like giving him a glass of poison?"
"I don't know . . . he looks all right as far as I can see, and no drinks yet," Jenna answered. "But we better go there, all the same. Get him away from her!"
The three of them hurried over as fast as they could in the horde of people, clumsily knocking over innocent guests while muttering words of excuses and apologies. Garet had even banged his knee on a strong table leg by pure accident, muttering an oath under his breath as he felt pain swelling up in his joints.
They had just gone halfway when he stopped, whirling around. He felt someone tugging his shirt in nervous apprehension.
"Look!" Mia whispered. Her eyes stared far ahead, but with a cold of unmistakable dread.
The Proxian woman had just called forth a waiter with a tray of drinks!
"Can the poison be . . .?" Garet asked haltingly, his eyes trailing the sequence of happenings. The waiter was summoned; he offered a drink to the woman, she responded. Everything seemed perfectly normal, nothing fishy as far as he could see. Yet, what if--?
"We don't know . . . dash it all, we have to stop it!" Jenna decided resolutely, her legs taking her as fast as they could go to the prince. "It's a 50-50 chance that it might contain poison and it might not, but we're not going to take any risks. At least, I'm not!" she finished. "And my instincts tell me that they're up to something!"
Mia stared helplessly before hurrying after her godmother, Garet following her suit. "But what are you going to do?" she asked in despair.
"I don't know! But I'm certainly not going to stand back and just watch!" Jenna responded decisively.
"Blast this heavy crowd!" Garet cursed, almost stepping on a lady's shoes. "Maybe stall for time and then somehow get the drink away?" he suggested, muttering a 'sorry' to an elderly woman who he had bumped unintentionally at the same time.
"Any ideas are welcomed in this situation!" Jenna called back, almost tripping over her own dress in her haste.
Time decided to toy around with them however, for her shoe had unluckily intertwined with the lace at the end. Growling angrily in frustration, she hobbled dangerously on one leg while her hand impatiently tried to disentangle the frilly while lace. She would have ended up falling down embarrassedly with a shriek, if not for the spiky redhead who judiciously caught her hand just in the nick of time.
"Watch your step, Jenna," he warned with a frown. "You're not wearing shorts or anything here, you know." The girl in question flushed and muttered something that suspiciously sounded like 'I know what I'm doing' to Mia who, by this time, was already ahead of them. She then gasped loudly when she turned her eyes back to the prince standing metres away from her.
"Oh god . . ." she breathed, her words almost inaudible. "He's taking the drink . . . he's going to drink it . . ."
There's nothing to show that it's poisoned, but what if the drink really is poisoned? But . . . it can't be possible, can it? The drink is served by the waiter and not by them, meaning that it comes from the castle, and therefore it should be perfectly normal! But what if . . . if this particular waiter is involved too? . . . No! The castle servants are absolutely loyal; I'm sure they wouldn't plot like this . . . but what if . . . Mia almost screamed out loud. Everything was 'what if' all throughout. Wasn't there anything definite at all!
"Hurry!" Jenna prompted. "You still can make it!"
This, combined with her earlier words, made it all kick in. Before she knew it, her legs instinctively carried her frontward as fast as they could. She was the only one who could reach the prince now; Garet and Jenna would hardly make it.
Mercury, let me be in time, please . . . oh, I wish all these crowd would clear away! But what should I do to stop him from drinking? Call him, then what? It'll be so ridiculous! And what if Merlina recognizes me? I probably look different now with all my costume and this eye-mask, but she has a sharp eye, and I wouldn't put it pass her . . .
"I'll be fine. You follow her!" Jenna commanded to Garet. He nodded instantly and pursued the aqua-haired child.
It felt like the moment of eternity to Mia; the less-than-a-minute she battled with the flow of the crowd felt like an agonizing hour that would never end. People gazed and some even glared mildly at her when she heartlessly pushed them aside, muttering tons of 'excuse me' feverishly. She kept her eyes trained on the spiky golden-haired young man's back all the time, praying the whole time that Garet, Jenna and she herself were all entertaining the wrong conjecture, and that she would be in the nick of time . . .
She felt her breath slowly and painfully slipping away from her when the prince and her stepmother toasted genially, their glasses chinking gaily.
Oh, just roughly three metres more . . . let me make it! Please! She almost cried in despair. To her, it was a hundred percent that poison was in the glass. Anything that had to do with her stepfamily was taken to be venomous, lethal. That was the only way to be on the safe side.
She tried to call out, but her breathless, panting voice could hardly beat the sound of the crowd pooled together.
Her heart raced wildly, her breaths short and uneven, whilst the music in the ballroom merrily continued its melodious hymn . . .
While Prince Isaac unknowingly raised the glass to his lips . . . the sparkling white liquid beginning its flow into his mouth. . .
Notes:
(1) Lucerne is unmistakably the name of a lake (and also a town), but seeing it has a connection to water, it's a nice, pleasant name to use for both Piers and Alex who are both Water Adepts. Note that there is no mistake about them being Mia's cousins as shown in Chapter 1, so we'll see more of them as well in future chapters.
It's really been a long time since I've last updated, and I really apologise for the slow updates lately. I hope I can at least finish this one by the end of this year, but I've still got several more chapters to go. At least I still haven't deteriorated at leaving cliffhangers. :) And in case anyone's interested, Chapter 3 has been edited and reposted.
Just to clear things up if there's any confusion, Mia knows that Garet is Isaac's godfather, but she still doesn't know who was it that 'saved' her from falling down flat the other day on the streets of Vale.
To those who haven't forgotten about this fic, thank you so much! A special note of thanks goes to anonymous readers Kodoku, Insanity Team and Ponie. Suggestions, comments, critiques and sage advice are always welcomed!