"That can't be real!" Cassandra's emotions ran high as her eyes sat fixed on the projection that Lia had created. For all she knew, it could have been a trick. If the girl could conjure it, then why wouldn't she be able to falsify it? "She's making this up. You both are!"
"I'm sorry, Cassandra." Milo's voice was low. "I'm afraid this is not an illusion. I do not understand the circumstances of what is occurring in your home realm. What you're seeing here is the truth."
Her face tensed up as a low growl escaped her teeth, rapidly growing louder. She swiped her sickle across the projection, distorting the image into a series of waves. She turned back toward Milo, angrier than ever. "Send me home!" She demanded.
"I can't," he insisted, raising her ire toward him.
"Stop with the lies," she screamed, holding back the urge to drive the blade into his gut as much as she could. It was so tempting but their abilities hung in the back of her mind. It would be smarter to catch one of them by surprise.
Milo explained his knowledge of the situation, hoping that she would understand. "We're not sure how. We only know of the existence of these other realms. There is no interaction. What you're seeing Lia project is the only way we can take a glimpse into them. The rest is written in books authored by scholars, researchers; others who have looked deeper into the worlds beyond us. Some of it is tradition – religion if you will. We know of your realm. But it is very limited to us. An artifact of ours found itself there long ago and now, you have found yourself here," his voice grew stern as he was now tired of her constantly fighting back with them. "Think about that for a moment, Cassandra. If we could get that dagger back, we would have had it. We cannot cross realms voluntarily. You can't just go home."
Her hands shook violently. Lia prepared her powers in case Cassandra made a move for Milo. She was a bomb waiting to go off and all they had done was add more flame to the fuse. They wanted her to reason with them. She needed to understand that this was something bigger than she had known, but her rage and attraction to brutality created more friction. The brunette's weapon reared backward.
As Lia was about to paralyze her again, Cassandra threw the sickle across the ground, uttering a prolonged scream.
Lia set her arms down, yet remained unsure if the situation was going to get better or worse. She did not expect it to be this difficult. Grief and sadness were one thing, but Cassandra's hostility was unimaginable. It brought to question just what type of being was sent into their realm by that dagger? She had a taste for carnage. It was clear as day. The smeared blood around her face was definitely not hers. Her dark robes were speckled with the fluid. She may have fought a good fight before dying, but it sat to reason that she had been the reason someone else crossed the plane between the living and the dead.
Cassandra kicked another chair down in her frenzy. Her hands took up place underneath the table as she set to topple it. However, it quickly proved too strong for her to lift and she chose to abandon the effort while she cast another cry of fury into the air. Shoulders raised, she briskly paced over to Lia and removed her glove once more.
"Show me what is going on at my castle!" She presented her pale palm. "Take my hand again and show me what you see."
"I…" Lia peered over to Milo, unsure if she should do so. He turned his eyes toward Cassandra.
"I can't promise that will work and if it does, I can't guarantee what you will see," he advised her.
"I don't care," she yelled at him. "I must know if my family is safe!"
He turned back toward Lia, giving her a nod to go ahead and give her what she wanted. With a slow breath, she reached out and grasped Cassandra's palm. Their fingers locked and, in an instant, a rush of visuals flew into her brain.
Cassandra could feel a build-up of heat being created between them. She watched as Lia's eyelids fluttered, muscles twitched – locked in various places. She did not doubt that the girl held a special gift. Between the telekinesis and the pseudo-psychic palm reading, she had her talents. The extent of them was unclear and she hoped that they would be enough to reveal the truth.
You can show me my home. I need to see everything. I need to know…
Lia's face winced as her hand began to give way. Unwilling to miss out on what could be shown to her, Cassandra's claws tightened around her palm. Their hands now locked, Lia could not pull away and was resigned to the surge of visions firing at her.
She gritted her teeth. A grunt of discomfort passed through as she struggled to control the influx. Lia's body vibrated right before her legs gave way. She collapsed down to a knee, unable to detach herself. A whimper escaped her and then a scream – pain. All Cassandra did was look on as she took pleasure in her suffering with a smile on her face.
Suddenly, Cassandra felt two hands take her by the sides of her arms. "Enough!"
Her feet lifted from the ground as she was yanked backward, releasing Lia from her grasp. The room spun and the next thing that she could detect was the impact of her body as it struck the floor and rolled around. Her sight inverted; she saw Milo as he frantically tended to a visibly drained Lia.
Cassandra turned over and pushed her body up, ready to get back to her. It did not go unnoticed as Milo craned his head over to her and rushed back, where he immediately pinned her down. She kicked and flailed, heaving and snarling at the man as she tried to free herself.
"Stop it," he scolded her, voice raised and muscles firm. Her hood – which had stayed on throughout her time in this world – had finally fallen. From her right side, her eyes glared fiercely at him through the strands of messy dark hair that covered her face.
"You will not tell me what to do!" She barked back at him. Her temper had reached its boiling point. Being held down and talked to like a little child pulled at every string that it could. She continued to roll around and fight for a way out but he was stronger than he looked. There was nothing she could do but stay in place and listen to his antagonizing words.
"You will not hurt anyone in this room. Understand?"
"Get off me!" She finished her words with a loud hiss.
"This is your final chance," he informed her. "If you cannot control yourself, I will have to restrain you. Please, we only want to help you, and to do so, you need to work with us."
"Do not touch me! Send me home, now!" She yelled, arms shaking, fingernails clawing at the stone floor.
His voice suddenly dropped to that of a concerned father, soft and gentle. "Cassandra, I know that you're scared. It's okay to be."
Her heavy breathing did not stop but the resistance in her muscles did subside a bit. Cassandra turned her head away from him, curling her fingers into a fist. "Just get off me," she grumbled.
Still cautious of her next move but willing to give her space, Milo removed his hands from her and stepped away. She remained there for a short moment, still fuming from what had just occurred. The amount of anger swirling inside her body was immense, but she was doing her best to keep the rest of it in.
Milo spoke with confidence. "I promise I'll do everything I can to get you home. Promise me that you will give us a chance."
She rose slowly, taking her hood and throwing it back over her head as her top priority. Still groaning, Cassandra straightened out her legs and back, refusing to look at him – the last fragment of control she had left.
He did not want to add to her rage, seeing as how she wanted nothing but a definite answer. Still, that was something that could not be done just yet. It would take time and her aggressive reactions would only hinder any progress made. "I can't help you if you hurt us."
Cassandra's silence spoke for her. She was bitter towards the two of them – and everything else. Hoping that she got the message, Milo returned his attention to Lia, who was still struggling on the ground. There were no signs of physical injuries but the girl looked like she had just been put through the wringer. Trails of sweat seeped from her forehead, down her face, and across her neck. It reminded Cassandra of how one of their maids would look whenever she was done chasing them around the castle for fun.
All this simply because she would not let go? Was that her weakness?
Cassandra could withstand bullets and swords. She could explode into a vicious swarm and decimate her prey. All that strength, and a cracked window during winter was worse than an axe to the face.
There was always a catch. Power came at a cost.
Brows still pinched together, Cassandra looked on as Milo continued to inspect Lia's physical state, comforting her as he tossed her arm over his shoulder and tilted his head toward the table. "I'm going to see Lia to her quarters. You are welcome to sit down and read or do whatever it is that you please. I will return shortly."
The woman looked like she was on the verge of passing out. If Cassandra's medical knowledge was any good; Lia was getting worse and Milo knew it.
Cassandra turned her head at the roundtable, her chest still expanding ferociously. Before she could respond, she looked back and saw that the two had now vanished. With a slow breath that rumbled in her chest, she dug her foot into the floor, annoyed that she was now alone. The weight of the unknown in regards to what was happening back at home was immense. She had to get her mind off it for now until Milo returned.
I hate this place.
Standing around did nothing to simmer her resentment. She decided that if she had to wait for him to come back, she might as well get off her feet. Cassandra took a sharp spin, the clacking of her heels resonating around the room.
She grabbed one of the chairs that she had kicked over and sat it back up. Plopping her rear onto the base, she adjusted her position a couple of times. Different angles. Closer to the front. Further to the back. No dice. It was as uncomfortable as she imagined. Milo's book lay across from her. Curiosity took over and compelled her to reach for it. She already had Milo's approval and nothing else to do in the meantime. In return for treating her like a child, Cassandra contemplated ripping the pages out.
"Do whatever it is that you please." Choose your words carefully next time.
"Hmm." She drew the thick hardcover closer. The ends of the pages were lined with what may have been gold. The cover – dark blue and intricately ornamental – showed not only a sign of old age but familiarity. "It's almost like…"
Castle Dimitrescu – February 6th, 2021
"What did I tell you about touching my trophies?" Cassandra's loud screaming could be heard from all across the Main Hall to the Hall of Four. Any of the servants who happened to be within earshot of her enraged shouting knew it would be hazardous to remain in sight. With haste, they made a break for the kitchen, lest she began combing the corridors in search of her next victim.
At the base of the stairs, Daniela stood by with both hands clasped in front of her, eyes squinted and eyebrows raised. She was regretful as ever. "I am sorry, Cassandra! I only wanted to get a closer view of the head. I have never seen a deer around that was that big."
From the top, her infuriated sister came raining down as a vengeful cloud of flies. They landed on the tiles beside Daniela and formed into that all-too-common posture that she was known for. Shoulders raised. One leg back. Her right arm extended – the cherry on top of a very angry cake. One didn't have to hear it to know that she was about to explode.
"Neither have I. And you know what? Maybe I never will again." Her finger pointed directly at Daniela's face. Her voice was scornful. Every word was salted with contempt for the redhead. "That's why it was up there and you went ahead and dropped it! Now, it's broken. Thanks a lot, Daniela!"
Her sister was insistent that the problem was not as serious as portrayed. "I can fix it!" Her eyes and mouth widened with a sense of eureka as if everything had just been solved. "I can glue the antlers back on and stitch the part of the face that is torn. It will look like it did when –"
Cassandra shoved her back. She did not want to hear any of it.
"You will not go inside that armory. You will not touch another one of my trophies, do you understand?"
Daniela was shaken up. She felt bad about what she had done and wanted to rectify it in any way that she could, but Cassandra's emotions were as firm as they could be. It riled her up as well, but she wanted to reason with her. She did not want to fight.
"I think we can fix it," she tried to reassure her sister.
"Do I ever go into the library and touch your stupid, pathetic books?"
Her words cut like a knife. She knew Cassandra all too well. Whenever she got angry enough – she got personal. Daniela's eyes closed and she lowered her head. "No..."
"Then stay away from my part of the castle. It is mine, not yours!" Cassandra dropped her arm and stormed away toward the dining room. Just as she was about to pass underneath the balcony, that other troublesome voice called out to her from above.
"Excuse me?" Bela, the ever-so-perfect sibling. Cassandra did not want to look up, but she knew that she would only get followed if she didn't answer.
"What?!" Her head snapped back to Bela, who was hunched over the balcony railing.
"Where are you off to?" She asked as if she had to know.
"Does it matter?" Cassandra shrugged.
Bela dipped her head momentarily, evidently disappointed. She pointed to the opposite doors across the room while keeping her glare on her sister. "Mother will be returning shortly and I've tasked the maids with cleaning up the ground floor. You already left a big mess at the table which they had to take care of while they could have been sweeping and dusting the halls. Do not start eating there as we are going to have dinner shortly."
She rolled her head while casting a loud groan. "I'm starving, Bela. What is it if I have an early bite?"
"If you make another mess then they will have to clean it up and we will not get to eat on time." Bela brought her hand up to her forehead in frustration. It was bad enough that the maids had to witness her two sisters fighting out in the open. That – coupled with Cassandra's sloppy habits – diminished the image of nobility that House Dimitrescu carried. It pried at her nerves, tempting her to stoop down to her level.
"Do you ever stop complaining?" Cassandra mocked her directions. Daniela continued to stay silent during the exchange between the two, periodically shifting her glance between one and the other.
"Do you want mother to speak to you instead?"
Cassandra reared her head backward, not surprised that the snitch would have threatened her with such an outcome. "Fine," she conceded. "Whatever mother's perfect daughter says."
Bela leaned down further, accentuating her point. "I am the oldest, in case you forget."
"How could I when you remind me every day? Whatever, I'll eat later. Happy?" She turned away from the dining room but Bela was not finished speaking to her.
"I'm living up to Mother's expectations, Cassandra. We are all sisters, you included."
"Oh," she said with a high-pitched, sarcastic delivery and a sudden smile. "Why, thank you!" Cassandra's face then instantly dropped back to its cold glare. "I'll see you at dinner, dear sister." She then morphed into a cloud of agitated flies, each one buzzing as hard as they could before disappearing out of view.
"Ugh…" Bela shook her head before she centered her attention down on her youngest sibling. "Daniela, did you do something to upset her?"
She glanced up at her with the same depressed look that had when Cassandra got in her face. "I…well… I guess. Not on purpose." She cupped her hands together again, looking for acceptance from at least one of her only two friends in this life.
Bela curled her lips and raised her finger over to where Cassandra just was. "You know how she gets during winter, Daniela. It's best to stay away from her. She always does this."
"I know." Daniela understood, yet, she still believed that her innocence must be cleared. "But it wasn't my fault! Her trophy slipped out of my hand and I tried to catch it. I almost caught it."
"It doesn't matter, Daniela. Stop thinking you can change it. I'll call you when Mother returns."
Unbeknownst to the other two, Cassandra had not left the area at all. Instead, she stood past the opposite end of the wall, mere feet away from where they had last seen her. She heard their words clear as day. Part of her wanted to turn back and speak her mind, but the greater sum of her heart simply directed her to keep going.
This is just because it's Winter, right? You think you know everything, Bela…
Locwitary
"…Daniela's favorite book," Cassandra said to herself as she opened the hefty bindings and took a view of what was inside.
Unlike her sister's selection of writing, this was purely scientific; something more akin to whatever Bela liked to look at during her spare time. It was entirely handwritten and as she scrolled rapidly through the collection of pages, she theorized that this may have been completed by multiple different people, possibly throughout extensive time periods.
Each section seemed to reference a certain 'realm,' as Milo called them. Each one, detailed by drawings, was composed of various planets, extremely similar in form and placement, while others – if they were even planets at all – took unique designs. One such example was an odd string of what looked to be stars, rotating inside a plume of energy.
She had initially thought it to be some sort of serpent until reading the notes under it. Pelius' Spear, it was named. "A chain of fire worlds linked into a rogue gravitational burst. Viewed on several occasions from the skyline above Pelius. The exact path of travel appears to be random. Fire worlds are often susceptible to orbit due to their composition. The chain has passed Pelius twice in opposite directions. What is causing its rebound?"
"How boring." She continued to flip through it. "Where is Locwitary?" Cassandra mumbled as she returned to the first section of pages. They were threaded on with strings. Some were pasted with a type of adhesive. Others were written over. Corrected through the years by the many writers of this guidebook that she held. Milo never stated if Locwitary was the name of the realm that she was in or the planet she was on. It wasn't coming up at all in her searches and the number of realms that there seemed to exist was staggering.
What did it matter? She wasn't trying to become a scholar of all universes. She wanted to do what was needed to find a way back to hers. Whatever this place had to offer was worth nothing to her if it served no benefit to her cause. Right now, her home was in ruins and she needed to be there. The more time she spent here, the greater the chances that she would be too late upon arrival.
Doubt of whether she would even be able to do anything once back home crept into her thoughts.
If I am like this when I return, then what use am I?
If only a fly would branch off from her body. One little buzzard – to show her that she still had a grip on what was normal. Her stomach felt empty but her throat was not dry like it was when she roamed the halls in search of their escaped captive. It was bizarre, but she couldn't explain it. She had witnessed death countless times but never pondered what would happen to her.
She was brought up being told that she was immortal, after all. She and her sisters knew the threat from the cold, but they never imagined it would ever become real. She always imagined that she and her family would live forever.
Shaking those thoughts from her head, she continued to read on, hoping to find something to capture her interests.
Cassandra stood up from the chair as the immense feeling of boredom caught up with her only a minute later. It was always a step away. Sometimes, it was a step ahead. Being still for too long was never enjoyable. She had to stay on the move – stay occupied. Reading was such a chore. Daniela insisted that she had yet to find the right book, but she brushed it off every time as a waste.
"What good does a book do when you can just crack someone's head open?" She'd tell her. As she gazed at the towering shelves of books that surrounded her, Cassandra once again held the image of her younger sibling in her mind. With a rattle of her head, she tried to focus on the present. This was no time for bad memories.
"Milo?" She called, skimming her finger along one of the columns as she walked about, words laced with a false cheeriness. "Are you done putting that girl to bed?" When there was no answer, she swiped her hand back to her side, groaning at the displeasure of being stuck in this room.
A thud tapped the floor and she spun around to evaluate the sound. To her excitement and dissatisfaction, it was him. He straightened out the last chair that she had knocked over before taking his spot upon it.
Cassandra's fingers swayed diligently as she tried to bottle up her negativity. "Didn't hear me, I presume?"
"I did," he answered. "Her name is Lia."
I am trying to put on a happy face and get through with this. Keep testing me…
"Right." She grinned. "I forgot."
"Sit down." He gestured to the chair that she had just sat on. Visibly irked, she returned to the table and slowly nestled back on the unbearably stiff furniture.
"So, where do we begin? How do I get home?" She tapped her fingers against the top of the table, still tense as ever.
"Mind if I offer you this?" He presented a cloth from out of his pocket.
"What for?"
He traced his finger along his lips and lower face while looking directly at hers – the blood. With a stubborn click of her tongue, Cassandra reached over and took hold of the rag, wiping the smeared remains of her last meal off of her pale skin. As soon as she was finished, she held it out to him. "Want it back?"
"No thank you." He smiled. She dropped it without hesitation. "So, I have an idea," he began talking. "Our only connection to your realm is you. I suspect Lia may be able to play a critical part in getting you back there. She can open up a window to your home to see into just by touching your hand – as we've seen."
"I thought you said it was rare?" Cassandra was confused. "So, can she do this at any time or what?"
"It is – sort of. She has done this before, but the window that she showed you was clearer than anything we had ever seen from her before. Usually, it's blurry, giving us a rough idea of what a world looks like. Something in you must have channeled deep into her powers." Milo spoke like it was a great discovery, though Cassandra had yet to see the point.
"So, you want her dead?" She bluntly stated, a slight laugh buried within her breath.
"What? No." Milo was dumbfounded at her comment.
"Me holding hands with her almost killed her, right? Hurt the little…" She caught her words mid-sentence, "…assistant of yours. I doubt you want my gloves coming off again, do you now?"
He cleared his throat. The foreign lady was malicious in some ways but she was correct. "That's what I am trying to balance. Psycho-visual viewing is extremely rare for her people."
What is she?
Milo continued. "Some have been known to be able to extend their powers to allow their visions to take a physical form. Enchantments are the best way to increase the likelihood that they can achieve this state but it is dangerous. They poison the body and burn it from the inside out. Most do not survive it naturally, let alone the addition of supplemental sources. Lia is a special case; she can withstand more than the average one but her limits are still evident." His description of her brought on a desire to inquire further. She seemed no different than any other human found in the village back at home. Was anyone here human?
"If she runs too fast, she dies, basically." Cassandra's bluntness came back for round two.
"Yes," Milo admitted again. "I have been working to suppress her body's sensitivity to her own potential. If she can open a viewing window to your world, maybe with enough strength, that window can become a door."
Cassandra was interested now. This was what she wanted to hear. The concept sounded possible given the madness that these people were capable of. Lia just had to get stronger, right? Simple as that. "Oh!" She clapped her hands with a cheery laugh. "Good idea! We should grab some more like her and see who can last till the end!" Her finger-tapping resumed.
The disregard for life that she held troubled the man but it had to remain overlooked for now. She was not a mindless barbarian. Milo could see that Cassandra had a lot of intelligence. She only needed perspective. "Lia is one of the last of her kind. There aren't many of her left and for those that are, she is the strongest."
"Oh," her tapping slowed to a dying beat. Her expression was neutral, albeit slightly surprised. "And what exactly is she?"
"A fawn," Milo said.
"She's a deer?"
"What is that?" He looked baffled – as was she.
There's no deer on this planet? What else don't they have?
"Something from my world – look, never mind." Cassandra was quick to get back onto the topic at hand. "You think that she can somehow open up a path back to where I'm from? What do I have to do to allow her to do so? What does she need from me?"
"Insight. The more that she sees into your world, the more I think she can connect to it. When you died, the only connection you had left was to this place because of that dagger – my theory, anyway. Its enchantments must've leaked into you when you were killed with it."
She gave a defiant laugh, "Which I don't remember any of."
"It's the only way," he insisted. "Whether you remember it or not, that dagger is the only thing that should've been able to bring you here. I don't know why it was able to. I'll need to look into that."
"Go on." She adjusted her hood, tossing the hair on her right outwards while maintaining eye contact. The idea had grown old fast but if entertaining it was what it took to get things done then so be it, she decided. "Let's say that dagger killed me. Fine. What does that mean for me and Lia?"
"Death separated you from your existence there and somehow those enchantments flowed back here, taking you with them. If you can connect Lia to your world in a controlled manner – allow her to see as many of your memories as possible – we can get her closer and maybe bring you back." Milo cleared his throat yet again. "But there are some problems with my theory about why you didn't just stay dead. The biggest one is concerning the likelihood –"
"My memories? You didn't tell me she could see that?" Cassandra grew agitated at the unforeseen invasion of her privacy. "What does she need to know about my –" Her face instantly became strained, eyes locked shut and lips stretched from a sudden, intense pain that erupted from the left side of her head. She clutched her temple while attempting to get up, only to stumble around, shrieking like an injured animal.
"Cassandra?" Milo jumped up. "What's happening? Are you alright?"
"Argh! No!" She could barely stand. The pressure inside her head was immense. The pounding of an unknown force rocked her eyes and brain. Something serious was going down but she had no idea what it was. She had never felt anything like this. It was pure agony.
What is happening? It hurts! It hurts so bad!
Milo scrambled over to assist the distressed woman. He grabbed her arm, trying to stabilize her as her legs buckled. She grew faint in his arms, though still tried to fight it. "You're going to be okay, Cassandra. Just stay with me. What is happening to you?"
Her lips quivered from the weakness. She could barely open her eyes, punished by the pulsating pressure under her left temple. "My head…I can't…"
"Goodbye, Rosemary," a familiar voice spoke in a whimper.
In a fraction of a second, everything went black.
Castle Dimitrescu – February 6th, 2021
Daniela skipped around the fireplace, dancing to the rhythm of the flames as her eyes alternated between her feet and Alcina, who stood nearby watching her. "You see, mother? Like that!"
Fixing her characteristically wide hat, Alcina tried to be supportive but wasn't reserved in regards to her doubts about what the girl had planned. "Are you sure that you haven't been reading that book just a little too much, dear?"
"No, mother." Her voice bobbled from the constant motion. "The main character did something like this right before her future lover took her hand and asked her to dance with him. I'm certain that I have it right." She was giddy with excitement over the idea that she was mirroring the scene that had been replayed in her head endlessly over the last day. Alcina was happy to see her youngest daughter in good spirits, but it was obvious that her dreams were bigger than her head.
"A man should always ask for your hand, daughter. Otherwise, you would be right to cut it right off."
"Exactly, mother." Daniela nearly lost her balance as she stepped on the end of her own gown. Not wanting to give up, she started from the beginning of the unorganized performance that she had cooked up in the middle of another fantasy. "That would be very wise, but every man knows nobility when he sees it."
It earned a small chuckle from the otherwise serious and imposing village Lord. "I have taught you well."
"Someday, I will dance with whoever that man shall be right there on that stage!" She pointed to the empty showroom floor cut off by the large red curtain above it. "It will be a glorious wedding. We'll have the servants handing out fruit and wine to all of the distinguished guests invited. Mother Miranda will be invited, of course."
"I'm sure she'd question me if she was not." Alcina decided to entertain Daniela's vision for a moment.
"Oh, I can't wait, mother! I've been so patient all these years. Surely, the one for me is destined to arrive here any minute now." Daniela messed up her routine once more and reset herself to give it another shot. Having witnessed this for the sixth time in a row, Alcina deemed that it was time to break away from the nonsense.
"I'd suggest focusing on other matters, for now, Daniela, like fixing that mess of a library, perhaps?"
She broke away from her dancing and hurried over to the matriarch, gripping her white dress with both hands. "I'm sorry, Mother. There are just so many good books. Every time I put one down, another one finds its way into my hands!"
Amused, Alcina nodded methodically. "So…you're telling me there is a ghost in the library?"
"No, mother." Daniela grew oddly concerned as if she believed that Alcina's words were genuine. For such a bookroom, she had a hard time reading people. "There are no ghosts in the library, at least I think." She brought one hand up to her chin, pondering if it indeed was a possibility.
"Daniela," Alcina patted the dark hood atop her daughter's messy red hair, "you should go tidy up your belongings. If you love something, keep it at its best. Did I not teach you that?"
She rested her head against the woman's large hip. Her eyes closed and her voice softened, Daniela acknowledged her wishes. "Yes, mother. I will clean up my mess."
"You can practice your dancing as you do it." Alcina gently separated from her before glancing at the stage nearby them. It had not been used in such a long time. Perhaps, maybe in the future, they could do something with it, she thought. The girls were bored enough during the cold season as they were. "Who knows? That stage may be yours someday…"
Daniela jumped with excitement, giving another spin or two before picking up her favorite book from the stand beside her and clutching it against her chest. "Thank you, mother!" Glee filled her eyes.
"But, first, that library must be tended to. See to it, my dear."
"Yes, mother!"
Alcina watched as she hurried out to begin the task of sorting out the disheveled stacks of literature that had been left to populate the once spacious library. She knew that only so much would get done before Daniela would forget and resume her reading. It wasn't intentional by any means. Like tunnel-vision, when her brain picked up on something, everything else in the world went away.
Besides, it was nothing that the maids couldn't do themselves – with Daniela elsewhere.
As Alcina made her way out of the Opera Hall and up the stairs, she sensed the familiar sound of buzzing making its way through. The flies' wings sped fast but the swarm was not picking up any speed at all. Such aggressiveness could only have come from one of her three girls.
"Cassandra," she called out.
The door to her left opened as the horde pushed through, forming together in front of her as always: hands cupped, legs together, and eyes up. "Yes, mother?"
"Dinner is going to be in an hour. Bela is making sure the servants are preparing tonight's food. What are you currently working on?"
"Nothing, mother," she obediently answered. "I was just having a drink to settle my thirst. Is there anything I can do?"
With one hand on her side, Alcina peered down at her before a thought caught her mind. With a hum, she suggested a suitable task for the brunette. "Your sister, Daniela, is off re-organizing her library. Go help her so that she can be ready in time for dinner."
Cassandra curled her lip upon hearing the idea. She looked around, inadvertently signaling that there was a disagreement on her part. "Mother," she responded, "isn't there anything else that can be done to prepare?"
"Like what?" Her eyebrows pinched. She did not enjoy being questioned.
Silence. Nothing would come out of her mouth no matter how much thought she put into it. It was so obvious that she didn't want to help. Playing innocent wasn't going to do her any good.
"Cassandra," Alcina's voice dropped an octave, "you don't clean up after yourself. You're constantly ransacking the wine and blood stored in the cellar. We've had this conversation before, have we not?"
"Yes, mother." Her eyes fell.
"Then let us not have it again, shall we?" She pointed to the door behind her. "Go meet your sister in the library and sort that mess out. Dinner will be ready at seven. Do not be late, understand?"
"Yes, mother." Cassandra dispersed and set her path down toward the library as ordered. Whenever she flew about the castle, the dissemination of her body into the individual insects was a way to take her mind off of anything but what was in front of her. However, the whole way there, all she could do was think about how terrible of a night this had been.
It is always me. I am always the bad daughter.
Locwitary
Clarity took its sweet time as Cassandra's eyes remained shut. Her head was heavy but the pain did not register. What felt like a pipe bomb going off over and over inside her skull was reduced to a drowsy state of being. She knew her eyes were closed but was too tired to open them.
A tingle traveled along her forehead, eliciting her subconsciousness to come up with an answer.
Am I bleeding? No…
The sensation then manifested into a poking. It wasn't wet. It definitely couldn't have been blood.
My hair. Why is…no…it's not my hair. Is someone touching me?
Her eyelids finally cracked, opening the floodgates to the various colors that replaced her world of darkness. Colors – and a young girl whose face was inches away from her own.