Hi guys,
So here it is! Chapter 3. Enjoy!
P.S. I have made some changes in the previous chapter, namely grammatically mistakes and some details.
Kayle sat atop a watch tower, legs crossed, trying to, or, trying not to think about the incident happened during practice match. Beside her was her golden helm, its red feathers flowed from the shining surface of the armor to rough granite blocks of the tower. The air was not suffocating like on busy streets, nor was it surreal like on the Fields. It was clean, cool and refreshing – just what she needed.
League matches mattered little to the Judicator. As long as she could spread her justice to summoners or other champions, winning or losing was nothing important. But this time… A gentle breeze touched her exposed face gently as the memories from not too long ago surfaced.
"What the heck was that? You think I didn't notice?" Jasmine scolded as she stomped her feet. It was ironic to her because she was usually the one chiding. What made the situation look more awkward was the height difference between the two. Jasmine, being a young summoner, was only two-thirds of Kayle's height. The Judicator had to bow slightly in order to meet her summoner's acute gaze. While the angel stood as still as a statue, the shorter girl shifted her legs constantly; her fingers fiddled each other randomly with nervousness, or anger, Kayle could not tell."I could have saved Vayne! Morgana had her flash spell; there was no real reason for wasting your shield on her! Your single mistake cost us the game, Kayle!"
The armored angel kept quiet, her lips pressed tightly into a line, head still lowered. It was indeed her mistake, and it was unfair of her teammates to blame Jasmine for her champion's problems, after all.
"Kayle…" The novice summoner's tone changed into a soft one when she noticed the Judicator's lack of response. Extending her arm, Jasmine gently latched her hand onto the angel's forearm, "We summoners are here to help you. If you want to talk, you can always come talk to us…"
The Judicator pushed the small hand away lightly, turned, and left.
Kayle took a deep breath and a long, heavy sigh escaped her barely parted lips. Since when had she become so irrational? So emotional? That was Morgana, her sworn enemy, the betrayer to their homeland, their family… to her. And yet, the Judicator broke the very rules she abided by all those years to protect the one she banished.
She was also her sister.
She ismy sister.
After what she has done? Are you not one bit doubtful?
I- I know not…
What is wrong with you, Kayle?
Unlike on the Fields of Justice, Morgana's attire was much less revealing: a white, short-sleeved shirt covered the normally exposed body; an oversized toque replaced her usual violet tiara. She also wore a sky blue dress instead of her usual brown leather one.
Morgana pressed her gloved hands on her temples, frustrated.
On the neatly organized counter in front of the baker, was a large tin, full of gingerbread men.
Burnt gingerbread men.
The cookies were coated with a thick layer of black, bitter crust; an alarming aroma of burnt food spread throughout the small stall of the new Sinful Succulence, which was located in the Institute of War.
"Pantheon!" the displeased shop owner turned towards the kitchen behind her and yelled, "What did I tell you about the oven? It is thirty minutes, not thirty hours! You almost ruined the whole damn stall!" Her voice rose along with her temper.
CRASH!
In a mess, the warrior limped out of the kitchen, wet paper towel clinging onto his broad shoulders and flour covering his ever-present helmet. The floor behind him was scattered with pieces of broken china and metal equipment. It was not the first time Pantheon almost destroyed the store, and Morgana Knew it certainly would not be the last. Before the fallen angel began yelling, a voice near the entrance drew her attention.
"You smell like buuuurning, auntie Morgana!
Morgana looked around, but it was not until she directed her gaze downwards did she finally realized a young girl had entered her smoke-filled shop, her green eyes opened wide with anticipation despite the eye-burning smoke. The girl, Annie, had pink, shoulder length hair; her smile was genuine, happy, and carefree. In her hand held a stuffed teddy bear that was not the best of make. Upon seeing the young champion, a small, yet warm smile curled up on the shop owner's face, anger dissipated all in a sudden. Morgana bent down and extended her arm, petting the little girl on the head lightly with her gloved hand.
"Want a cookie?" the angel already knew what the young girl wanted when she saw her emerald eyes.
"Yes please!"
"Well, you have to wait for a bit," the baker continued, slowly turning her head towards her assistant, glaring at him. "Someone made the kitchen very messy."
"Okie dokie!" the short mage replied, her voice as bright as always.
The shop owner picked up the tin of failure and headed straight into her kitchen. Slamming the thick doors behind her, she observed the chaotic kitchen. She snapped her fingers, and each piece of broken china was encircled by a purple sphere of magic. Slowly but steadily, the pieces were lifted up from the tiled floor. The annoyed angel then focused on each and every piece and imagined them burn. Immediately, the busted bowls and plates was engulfed in purple flames and burned into nothing. She did not bother gluing everything back together; burning them took way less time.
She then charged another dark flame and blasted the burnt cookies into ashes. That actually felt great.
Morgana hurried to the refrigerator and took out cookie dough prepared beforehand. It was simply a practice developed over time, when too many customers demand for a bite, fresh made cookies and pies would be sold out in no time. Putting the dough on the table, she carefully pressed a bear-shaped cookie cutter into it. Satisfied with the outline, she put the soft dough into the hex-tech oven and began baking.
CLICK!
Two pale hands pushed the oven door to a close. Below the extended arms, young Morgana crouched in front of the oven, peeking through the small holes to see the cookies that were being baked. The oven stood out from the rest of the kitchen with its maroon brick surface. The fire was fueled by local rare timber, which gave out a pleasant, soothing scent when burnt, contributing to the flavor.
"When are the cookies done?" the crouched blonde asked her sister, "I like your cookies! They taste amaaaaaaazing, Kayle!"
The older sister smiled as she petted the young angel's head, "Be patient, Morgy, we can share the cookies in a few minutes' time!"
"But I want them noooow!" Morgana frowned. The smell was irresistible.
"Patience, my dear sister," Kayle leaned forward and pecked her sister in the forehead, her smile still on her delicate face. "Time is required to accomplish anything, just like baking! Taking the cookies out early and its contents will remain uncooked. Not only sacrificing the taste, eating them might get you sick!" Kayle, being a few years older, was of course more mature. Yet, the maturity difference did not separate the sisters. As the older, more experienced sister, Kayle often talked to Morgana about life and attitudes. Not that their parents did not do their job, but Kayle was the one reinforced them, explained them to Morgana. Just like a loving sister would.
The taller sister's words, however, did not change the shorter sibling's jumpy mood. Morgana began beating her wings and yanked her crouched legs. Her body shot up right between Kayle's hands, straight to the ceiling. The older sister, although shocked by the sudden motion of her sister, tilted her head up to follow her rapid rising sister just in case.
Bang!
Pain shot through her head to toe when her head hit the ceiling, the numbing pulse bouncing back and forth within her head as she lightly pressed her head gently to ease the throbbing sensation, but the pressure only brought more buzzing. She felt dizzy… and light... then fear struck her; her heart beating frenziedly; her breathing short and quick. She was falling.
The younger sister scrambled midair to grab hold of something. She had to, but her hands found nothing. Her scream for help was trapped inside her throat by the dreadful feeling of free fall. She tried flapping her wings frantically, yet the untrained limbs were not mature enough to keep the young girl afloat. She was falling. Onto solid ground. To her death. And with that thought, tears blurred her vision.
Contrary to what the young angel had expected, she landed on something soft, something warm. Morgana opened her eyes and was met by a pair of cyan eyes that was filled with concern and worry. She sister did not remember closing her eyes, but it mattered little. As long as she was within her sister's embrace, she knew she would be safe.
The older sister descended to the ground with a slow grace, her larger wings beating in a steady rhythm. Seeing young Morgana's terrified look, Kayle hugged her tight, and kissed her swollen head. The younger angel's reaction to the hug was instantaneous; she dug her head into her sibling's shoulder. "Did you not remember what father and mother told us? No flying indoors. It can be dangerous." Kayle scolded with a gentle tone; yelling would make things far worse than a bump in the head. "Promise me that you shall never do that again."
"I promise." a sob came from Kayle's shoulder.
Hugging Morgana with her left hand, the older sister used her free hand to open the oven. The mesmerizing fragrant of the cookies burst out of the once-enclosed space and diffused across the air inside the kitchen. It was wonderful. Even though the pain was still present, Morgana felt at peace, and happy. Before she asked her sister, Kayle already took the freshly baked cookies out of the scorching brick oven. Various shapes can be found on the tin: stars, birds, flowers. The most remarkable ones, however, was placed in the middle. Two angels, both detailed to every feather and strand of hair, were circled by other less detailed cookies.
The younger sister gingerly took the larger one, claiming it. It resembled Kayle, and she belonged to her, or so she thought. Just before she took the first nibble, she put the miniature angel near her nose and inhaled deeply.
The smell was off. It should be more welcoming, sweet, and pure. This time, it smelt… choking… and burnt. Burnt!
Shit!