#then the pretty hair loops and their hair fading into an ombre

[ddarker-dreams]

thought i would try my hand at making god darling. i think your writing is neat

[clansayeed]

The Interview ― a Bound by Destiny drabble

⥼ Summary ⥽

Nervous, broke, and way under-qualified, Nadya applies for a last-resort secretary job at the illustrious Raines Corp. But a cup of coffee before her interview might just change her life.

note: This piece takes place before the events of the Oblivion Bound series. It takes the events of Bloodbound 1 CH 1 and tailors them specifically to Nadya, and is referenced a handful of times throughout Bound by Destiny.

Happy Birthday Oblivion Bound! On June 29th you turned 1 year old, and I couldn’t be more excited to have so much more of this story to tell. To everyone who has joined me along the way I hope you enjoy this little piece!

check out the fake screencaps for this piece!

word count: 4,902 rating: teen+ content warnings: none find out more: HERE

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

[READ IT ON AO3]

In all the articles she read (that morning, which probably wasn’t a good way to start out even the potential of this job) there was a universal agreement that being the last person interviewed was about as bad as being the first.

But none of those stupid articles told her what to do when she finds herself stuck smack-dab in the middle.

She keeps trying to push up her glasses. There’s a half-crescent probably permanently etched into the bridge of her nose by now. Great first impression to make, honestly.

The conference room door opens and everyone tries to play it cool, tries not to look at the face of the woman who exits. They don’t want to get their hopes up. They don’t want to think three hours of waiting is for nothing.

She leaves just like all the others. The next name is called just like all the others. Four seats to her left the young man stands and adjusts his tie. Runs his tongue over his pearly teeth — and closes the pristine wooden doors behind him.

What had Lily said? Something helpful, probably. Though she’s certain now it was probably mixed in with a whole lot of nonsense. Motivational quotes, stress-relief tips that worked on everyone but the chronically anxious. But, much like how she finds herself, there’s one sliver of usefulness among the chaos.

“Caffeine. If you get the jitters just tell them you’re excited to work there! If not… well you’ll have coffee and that’s a gift on its own.”

The last candidate was interviewed for twenty-three minutes. Before her; thirty-one minutes.

So she rationalizes there’s nothing wrong with leaving her clipboard on her seat and rushing to the lobby for a quick java boost. Hadn’t there been a coffee cart right off to the side…?

It’s only fitting that the last of her freehand cash is spent here. If by some miracle she actually gets the job it’ll be something funny to reminisce on after she gets through the first year.

If she gets through the first year.

The middle of the afternoon has come and gone, now. She looks out through the glass walls of the front atrium to see the sky fading into the ombre of evening light. At this rate the interviewer won’t get to her in time, and she’s pretty darn sure this isn’t the type of place to waste a call back on something as trivial as a secretarial position.

It’s New York. Secretaries are a dime a dozen. That much is obvious.

Now comes the hard part — waiting. Trying not to tap her foot on the expensive marble floors and trying not to look back so much she messes up her hair and trying not to chew her lip so hard she walks into her interview with blood on her teeth.

“Are you alright?”

The first words said to her since she arrived; well… apart from “Complete the forms given before your interview. You will be called in by order of arrival” hammered out by the terse blonde interviewer. The first words and they’re kind and she’s definitely thrown more than a little off-kilter by the whole thing.

And coming from the custom-fit Suit she just happened to stand near, too? Well now she’s wary of flying pigs on the evening weather forecast.

It’s hard not to look at him from the ground up; to take in all of him with the money that seeps from his collar and cuffs and the way his tie pin catches the lights overhead. From the way he carries himself the Suit knows all this; he’s accustomed to it.

Only… her appreciation halts at his eyes. Dark brows just shy of knitted together and a shine in his eyes that has nothing to do with fluorescent bulbs and everything to do with… with…

It’s an impossible sensation. One she’s never felt before. Not just hard to describe but literally — she can’t. There aren’t words for a look like that. Open and honest and genuine and…

“Soy latte for Nadya.”

Is she staring? She feels like she’s staring.

The Suit laughs. It’s the shift in his expression that does it — puts her squarely back inside her own head where everything is all a hectic jumble of professional words and an itemized list of accomplishments. Yup, she was staring. If she gets this job she’ll have to rely solely on home-brewed coffee so as to never meet this man again.

“Are you Nadya?”

The burning in her cheeks is in direct contrast to her chosen blush. But Nadya has a feeling he’s the least likely person to notice that, here. The coffee cart barista on the other hand…

It’s hard to stop her hand from trembling as Nadya reaches out for her coffee. Hopefully not enough to notice, certainly not enough to spill anything, but nope nope nope about mission — the Suit noticed. The Suit noticed!

“I’m sorry,” her apology; a compulsion, “I—that was super rude of me. Oh my god, I… probably look like such a weirdo.”

“A bit,” he muses in reply. But he doesn’t seem all too bothered by it? It has the gears in her head turning backwards trying to understand.

“At the risk of sounding vain —”

“—said every vain person ever?”

“Too true; but I digress. You have nothing to be sorry for — it’s not the first time something like that has happened.” He’s on the nose there — between the polished cufflinks and his smile just the same the guy definitely sounds vain.

The first sip of her latte is always the same — tentative, just a quick taste to make sure her stomach isn’t gonna regret it later — but Mr. Vanity doesn’t look away which is a little unnerving to say the least.

“Just nerves then, I assume?”

“Wait — I’m sorry?”

If Nadya had to wonder where any sense of ‘cool and calm’ she might have had went she’s found it here, all soaked up in (probably) Italian loafers. “Just a second ago,” his hands slide into his pockets, “you looked… well I thought you were about to faint.”

Oh. “Right—yeah—nerves,” and he didn’t ask but she rambles when she’s like this so really it’s his fault for starting a conversation, “I’m actually here for a job interview. My first big gig since moving to the city, you know?”

The man nods appraisingly. “I remember the feeling well. But this office is the same as any other on Wall Street, I assure you.”

Yeah, that’s Nadya’s problem.

“I’ve never worked in a place like this. Ever.”

“Ever?”

“Ever ever.”

“Ah,” when he nods not even a hair comes out of place, “‘Ever ever,’ that’s a pretty big deal.”

“The roof over my head literally depends on it, so…” And normally Nadya would take one look at a guy like this and say without a shadow of a doubt that he’s probably never had to worry about that sort of thing. But there’s something about him — something different than the earlier strangeness, but something nonetheless — that tells her he might just take her by surprise.

She really should be getting back to her seat.

But even with every relaxation technique in her arsenal this—right here—this is the best she’s felt about herself all day. So there’s no harm in staying an extra minute or two, right?

The man laughs unprompted and Nadya casts him a curious look. He seems almost bashful about it.

“You just reminded me of my first job, is all.”

“Let me guess — right in this very office but, hm… intern? No, you look more like the humble mail room type.”

His look turns appraising. “Do I really?”

“Do you want the truth?”

“If you have to ask that then perhaps not.” Yet their teasing is as well-meaning as it is spontaneous; enough for him to actually continue, “Actually my first job — well, first paying job that is — was a cobbler. You know, for shoes.”

Oh, Nadya knows. Yeah, in fact she has a funny story pretty similar having to do with a frazzled third-grade substitute teacher and a Bunsen burner. Since it had been, after all, a unit on Colonial America.

But that’s a level of sass they probably haven’t risen to just yet. She just nods instead.

“It was a small business, well—it was a small town. My father knew the owner and one thing led to another. I was pretty nervous on my first day too.”

He’s just trying to help, Nadya reminds herself. However strange and probably untrue his story may be, there’s no denying his sincerity. Just a successful man talking to a not-even-secretary trying to show a little empathy. Frankly Nadya isn’t sure she wouldn’t be doing the same thing were the roles reversed.

That’s just what kind people did for others. The world would be a better place if everyone was like that.

The cart barista doesn’t even get the chance to put down the drink fully when he’s reaching for it. Some people just need their java — Nadya can totally relate. But she swears the Suit winks at the girl. Though it could definitely just be a trick of the light.

Nadya’s all prepared for the “this was nice but we’ll never cross paths again” sort of goodbye when he returns.

Instead he throws her for a loop and places his cup at one of the two little silver tables that serve as the cart’s cafe. He pulls out a chair with a smile her way — is that supposed to be meant for her?

He catches onto her surprise quickly. “I hope you don’t think me too forward. I was just enjoying our chat and thought… why leave it there?”

Uhm, because you’re a man with a salary high enough to look the way you do? “Oh — I mean its… that’s really sweet of you but I should be…” she throws a look in the direction of the conference room, “getting back. Being late for the interview doesn’t seem like the best impression to make.”

The man laughs; some joke Nadya isn’t privy to. “If that’s all you’re worried about — don’t be. She actually gets a kick out of drilling people in there.”

Her resolve crumples at his hopeful smile. “And I’ll vouch for you.” Oh look she’s already sitting down.

“Well if we’re actually doing this, how about a name?” She tries to look at his cup but can’t quite catch it. If she didn’t know any better Nadya would say he actually turned it away while taking a sip.

“My name is Adrian. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Nadya.”

“Same to you, Adrian.”

Nadya discovers very quickly that this isn’t just about enjoying a chat. Judging by the looks they get — though Nadya could easily be chopped liver — and the curt nods here and there, it’s obvious Adrian is pretty important. He’s just using her to play hooky.

Which only earns him points in her book.

So does the way he props his elbow on the tabletop to rest his chin on an open palm. “So I have to ask you, Nadya, if I may of course.”

“Ask away.”

“If you’ve never ever worked in a corporate setting before — why now? This isn’t the kind of job one finds in the Classifieds.”

A fair question. She laughs softly. “Is it bad if I say I don’t really know? Oh god, it probably is.”

“I wouldn’t say bad, but the hiring interviewer will probably ask something along the same lines.”

“You’ve… got a good point there. Okay,” she makes a little show of sitting up straighter and pushing her glasses all the way up until she knows there’s little red dots between her eyes; Adrian’s smile is totally worth it.

“So the salary’s good but I’m sure you know a little bit about that.”

He chuckles. “A little bit, yes.”

“And threat-of-eviction aside; I caught the listing on one of those random alumni emails from my college. You know — the ones where they make it out like they’re trying to help you succeed but they’re really used to find grads with the biggest paychecks to hound them for donations.

“It definitely wasn’t my first choice. I don’t think I have to tell you that I’m pretty out of my element.” She pauses when Adrian’s brow creases just the smallest bit.

“What would you say is your element then?”

“That’s just it. I’ve got absolutely no clue. I figured I could do the basic job okay — I actually enjoy putting schedules and things together and the rest — all the business-y parts — I hoped I could just kinda pick up along the way. Do I think this is going to be my calling? No idea, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t put all my effort into the work.

“But you can’t find something without trying, you know? I trust my gut and… figure I’ll know what I’m looking for when I see it.”

Because Nadya had done herself the disservice of not trusting her gut when she first moved out here. Get a part-time job or two to pay the bills and loans, she figured, and just keep looking for that perfect one.

Yeah. That had gone over well.

Interview after interview — all with the same depressing result: the cheery false-apology letter and some variation of “we thank you for your interest but we will be continuing to pursue other candidates.”

Adrian is polite and attentive the whole time, too. Even when she gets to the unnecessary descriptions of Lily’s cheer-up dinners. Nadya knows she has a tendency to ramble when she’s nervous — but every time she apologizes he smiles and shakes his head; tells her “no apologies necessary, please go on,” and sometimes follows up with a thoughtful question or consideration that could only come from someone actually genuinely taking part in the conversation.

He’s kind. She’s surprised to find that in a place like this but he is. And before long Nadya finds herself wondering why she was ever nervous at all. Too bad he isn’t the one interviewing, she thinks, I might actually have a chance.

“That’s…” Adrian leans back in his seat with a forced exhale, “that’s quite a story.”

She knows where this always goes. “I knew it; way too much sharing. I was hoping to try and put a positive spin on it — for the position, I mean. Answering phones, scheduling meetings, that kind of stuff. I’m sor—”

“Nadya, please don’t apologize again. You don’t need to.” Then he reaches over and has a hand over hers and he’s cold, like weirdly as cold as the atrium itself, or maybe she’s just too darn flush from embarrassing herself. “Never apologize for the things that make you you. And give yourself a bit of credit, while you’re at it. I’ve lived and worked here for a long time and I’ve seen a lot of people settle for less. Even people like yourself.”

“English majors who have no business in Business?”

“People who don’t quite know what they want out of life. You’re young, Nadya —” which is rich coming from him, he can’t be more than thirty, “— you don’t have to have it all planned out right this second. You’ll miss out on too much if you try.”

Adrian’s words leave her speechless. She makes a mental note to let him know just how rare that is later on. Not just because he could be an awesome life coach but because there’s no doubt in Nadya’s mind that he means every single word.

No, Adrian can’t be more than thirty. But when she fixes her glasses and looks him in the eyes he looks like he’s a hundred years old. Wistful and wanting and wise all at the same time. Nadya’s left feeling so small and so very very young when he takes his hand back.

Nadya tries to recover her composure behind the last bit of her latte but is left wanting; nothing but soy gone cold and somehow tasting of the bottom of the paper cup. He watches her thoughtfully all the while; even when she gestures to his empty cup and gets a nod in thanks when she drops them both in the nearest recycling bin.

She hasn’t even sat back down when Adrian abruptly asks; “May I see your resume?” And there’s no reason why not so she reaches down—

And remembers with absolute horror that her resume is on the clipboard. at her seat. in her spot in line. back where the interviews are.

“Son of a biscuit.” Well, there’s no use in rushing over there now. Even the cart barista has left for the evening long since arrived. Nadya looks around and takes in the practically empty lobby with a sinking pit in her stomach and a new story of failures to add to her list.

Somehow “I didn’t get the job because a really nice, sweet, very-much-employed guy made me miss my interview” probably isn’t going to go over well with the landlord.

But she isn’t the only victim — if it’s any consolation. It isn’t. Adrian looks around with a “huh,” of pleasant surprise and checks his watch. “Well Kamilah’s going to kill me,” because to him this is something worth joking about, apparently, “but what else is new.”

“I should go.” I need to go. But she just slumps a little deeper into her seat.

He looks at her sympathetic; good, he should feel bad, she wants to say but he doesn’t deserve that kind of spite. She shouldn’t have left the line.  

“Could I ask just one more question before you go?”

Nadya can’t help but want to start asking her own questions. Ones like why is he asking all these questions, why does he care, does this mean she can still ask him to vouch for her; all that jazz. She doesn’t though.

“Why did you move to New York?”

From the look on his face Adrian can tell he’s caught her off guard. “I just mean — like I said, Nadya, I’ve lived here for a long time. Met all sorts of different people with all sorts of different lives and histories and reasons of their own. Sometimes I think I’ve heard just about every reason you can imagine.” But even though he tries to laugh it off he definitely meant it, and he’s definitely interested in the answer.

“And…” she splutters a bewildered laugh, “and what, you think I’ll have a new one?”

He shrugs. “Maybe not new, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be interesting.”

“It’s not some heart-wrenching story —”

“That’s okay.”

But he’s serious. It takes Nadya a minute to fully believe him but he is, and she does. Hope you didn’t get your hopes up too much.

“I was really scared when I graduated from college. School was… my whole life up until right then. And now people were expecting all these things from me and… and I’d never done any of them before. Suddenly I was facing the rest of my life and I was starting it terrified. But I still had to do it; scared or not.

“So I figured it wasn’t a bad idea to try and get all the things I was scared of out of the way then. It seems stupid now…”

“Not at all.” Nadya looks up when she realizes she’s been focused on her hands in her lap and Adrian’s looking at her like he’s breathless. It’s weird, not gonna lie a little bit of a confidence booster, but also… well, scary. In its own way.

“And I’ve got this really bad habit of being stubborn, even to myself, so I just… said go big or go home. No place I can think of bigger and scarier than New York.”

For a second she thinks he’s laughing at her for being such a terrible cliche. But… he’s not. It’s just a laugh. What else do you do when you’re happy?

“Are you still scared here?”

“Every day,” but Nadya shrugs it off; just like she has for months now, “and one day I won’t be. Dunno when, or how, but I won’t be. So I should probably stick it out until then.”

“I’d like to see that day.” You and me both.

But if he’s gonna sit there and be all charming and intellectual and weirdly invested in her personal life journey then she can too. “What about you,” Nadya asks with just a teensy bit of cheek; which has Adrian laughing again but now she’s into the joke so let her roll with it, “wait — lemme guess — all the cobbler jobs were taken so you figured a fancy tech corporation was the next best thing?”

“Actually,” somehow his one question has turned into… well into this but he’s nice and this building is nice and why not, Nadya? “That’s an interesting story. My father took me to the city when I was old enough to help with my share of the work, you see, and —”

“Adrian! Where the hell have you been all afternoon?”

Every clack of her heels is like an ice pick to the tiles — Nadya’s glad she’s not the only one who flinches at the sound. Or maybe it’s the shrillness of the voice the shoes must belong to. She knows that voice, actually—

Because her life is a living nightmare Nadya looks over Adrian’s shoulder to see the woman from the hiring interviews marching towards the pair of them; face flushed and a stack of clipboards in hand and oh god how awful would it be to ask to steal her resume back because printing them out at the library is such a chore?

Nadya shrinks in her seat and prays not to be recognized — but Adrian seems used to such outbursts. He throws Nadya a reassuring smile (which totally works, not that Scary Interviewer would give her a chance to thank him) before turning in his seat to greet her face to face.

“Nice to see you too, Nicole.”

Nicole gives a long-suffering sigh and ignores Nadya’s presence entirely. She’s totally cool with that. “That doesn’t answer my question. I finished with interviews over an hour ago — and what did I return to?”

“I don’t know. But I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“Three missed calls from Ahmanet, no signature on the Volenti files, and you still haven’t decided on which of the Red Site projects you want to endorse at next year’s conference. Which you should have decided a week ago.”

Adrian has the patience of a saint. Which comes as no surprise since he did just listen to Nadya’s ramblings for more than an hour for sure. He lets the woman get everything out of her system without even so much as a tick of the brow.

And has the dumb idea of gesturing to Nadya as a reply. “Nicole, have you met Nadya?”

She double-takes with the same concern she might give a leaf on the wind. “Miss Sayeed wants to move the meeting to her offices for the inconvenience.”

“Nadya was one of the applicants from earlier today.”

Okay — that works. Not that Nicole looks at her, now fully even in disdain, with anything remotely close to respect. She sweeps her eyes over Nadya; held frozen by the spite in her steely stare.

“I remember you. The Walk Out.”

Is it hot in here or is she losing her nerve? “Well — actually I —”

Nicole cuts her off. “You walked out, did you not?”

“I went to grab a coffee.”

“Oh, well that changes things.”

“Wait—really?” Dumb move.

“Of course it doesn’t.”

Adrian clears his throat politely for their attention. “Nicole — I’m sorry for setting your schedule back.” She nods, though it doesn’t seem much like she’s accepted the apology. “I’ll worry about Kamilah, and the other things won’t take me more than an hour. I do have one favor to ask.”

It occurs to Nadya then that Nicole, who very much wants to say no—that’s obvious, can’t. Which is just weird since she doesn’t seem like the kind of woman who does favors for anyone.

“Yes, Mister Raines?”

Forget tomato red. All of the color drains out of Nadya’s face at once. And the reassuring smile Adrian tries to offer doesn’t do a darn thing.

Mister Who-Now?

“If you could go ahead and cancel tomorrow’s interviews I’d appreciate it. Tell them that particular position has been filled but they’re free to reapply for something similar under one of the division heads, maybe?”

“Why in the world would I —” If looks could kill Nicole would most certainly have sent her six feet under. “No.” Though this time Nadya has to agree. Probably the only thing they would agree on ever in the history of all time.

“No way.”

But Adrian just beams. “I just came down here to stretch my legs and grab a coffee. I had planned on sticking my head in for one or two of your interviews, Nicole, but —”

“We agreed it was best I handle filling the position, sir.” She grinds the word out but, to her credit, Nicole’s face is never less than cool and collected. “You haven’t seen her resume, you have no idea if she’s even qualified.”

“You’re half right,” he replies, “but I’m sure if she didn’t have some idea of what the secretary position requires she wouldn’t have even made it to the interviews, right? The rest of it, all that ‘business-y stuff’ I’m sure she can pick up along the way.”

Oh that’s not cool. Not cool at all. Playing Undercover Boss and then using her own words against her? Wait — why isn’t it cool? Why isn’t she jumping for joy and already trying to convince Lily not to spend money they don’t yet have on pizza?

Maybe because it feels a little underhanded? By some random luck she ends up talking with Adrian Raines, CEO of Raines Corp over coffee and suddenly she gets the job over a bunch of way more qualified people?

But this is what she wanted. It’s the job. So why…

Oh.

Nadya’s here for the interview but she knows there are people who want this job and have the experience to boot. Nadya’s trying to refuse the job she needs because that would mean something went right, and things going right never ends well.

She’s scared.

The loudness of Nicole’s departure startles Nadya out of her self-realization. She glances up and Adrian is still sitting there, albeit a little more humble than he looked just a moment ago. He has the decency to seem apologetic.

“I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself fully.”

“Why didn’t you?” Now it’s Nadya’s turn for questions.

Adrian shrugs. “These days Nicole is the only person who’s ever really honest with me here. Imagine her trying to hold back her opinion on something.”

“I can’t.”

“Exactly. But everyone else, even my own employees, they aren’t. Not entirely. I’ll admit, Nadya, when you didn’t know who I was, I saw a chance to allow myself a little sincerity. To be genuine with someone.”

Joke’s on you, she thinks wryly, I would have been this much of a mess anyway.

Still; it doesn’t sit right with her. “But don’t you realize that because you did that you weren’t sincere with me?” And how could she work for someone who wasn’t honest with her? Who didn’t allow her that basic decency?

“I do now. And I understand if that keeps you from accepting the job. I didn’t sit down with you to interview you in secret, though, please know that.” And because he knows her question before she even opens her mouth; “You were on your own, nervous, and I wanted to help — if I could. I was telling the truth when I said you reminded me of myself.

“I say that because I think, if you were in my position, maybe you would have done the same thing.”

I wouldn’t have lied, though it’s a bitter thought — and was lying by omission technically lying? Especially if it’s for everyone’s greater good?

Man her head hurts.

“Nadya…?”

She inhales with all of her might and nods. “One more question.” Which makes him smile — he appreciates the symmetry of it.

“Go ahead.”

“What made you decide to offer the job to me?”

There’s a little bit of pride in Nadya when he doesn’t have an answer right away. Adrian takes his time and really seems to mull it over — or if he’s doing it for show he’s extremely convincing.

“I didn’t know what I was looking for until I saw it.”

Nadya can’t not roll her eyes. She can’t not smile though, either.

Finally Adrian stands and nods towards the sleek elevators at the far end of the lobby. “Should we go ahead and get the paperwork started? I can show you your desk, we’ll set up your number in the system — all quick things, really.”

It’s awfully assumptive of him, but she is standing and grabbing her purse so… is it?

“Bold of you to assume I’ve accepted the job, Mister Raines.”

“Please, call me Adrian.”

[sheriffkit]

Hey i have a first chapter for my story, please read it here. I’ll also include it below the cut, it’s quite long tbh lmao. 

Gambling was an addiction that I admittedly, could not leave behind. I just couldn’t help but enjoy the rush of risk coursing through me like a river as I bet more and more, the stakes getting higher and higher. Gambling was one of life’s many treasures, so I found there to be nothing wrong with merely using the treasure as I see fit.

Now some would call what I do “cheating” but I merely called it use your tools to the best of your advantage. Magus Arthur doesn’t like how I indulge in this sport, he thinks it’s a waste of time and money. Tsk. If he saw how I used my tool to my advantage he would surely keep me under house arrest.

The tool in speaking was of course, my wand. Or well the catalyst in which I produce my magic from, I’m not exactly the best at producing magic from the tips of my fingers just yet. I need a catalyst to help me, at least if I want strong magic. Such as right now, where I am balancing the wand to the side of the table, pointed at the troll across from me. I intended to cast a mere illusion spell on the cards just dealt in front of him. Again, not “cheating,” just using my tools to my advantage.

I muttered the words of the spell to myself, before retracting my hand and sliding my wand back into my boot. It didn’t seem like I was noticed, which was good. I had a perfect streak of not being caught, well...almost perfect there was this one time at a festival in town and let’s just say Magus Arthur does not let me go to such events anymore. Not my fault the guy just wouldn’t admit he lost...tsk people am I right?

Finally picking up the cards in front of me I let a grin creep onto my face, this was perfect. If the illusion spell worked correctly, and by the look on his face it did, his hand should consist of two kobolds, one dryad, and one dragon. Which was one of the worst hands to get in this game. I had gotten a pretty not-good hand myself, but a little hand magic will do the trick. I muttered the spell again and the shapes on the cards turned into one of each. A golem, dryad, dragon, and kobold. That was the best hand to get.

The name of the game, the one I was totally going to win, was called Golems and Dryads. It was a card game with four different races in it, the Golems and Dryads being the ones with the most points, the other two being the ones with the least. If you had a hand like mine you got automatically a set of bonus points for obtaining a hand with all the races, which was fairly rare because c’mon, you have a very low chance of getting one of each card. Another way was to have all Golems or Dryads, or a mix of both.

Now the troll sitting across from me, well his hand wasn’t particularly horrible, as I did play nice and give him a dryad, but it wasn’t great either. Especially against the hand I had.

I threw the cards, face up, on the table in front of me, a shit-eating grin tearing up my face. Those who had been spectating shot up and started clapping. Count Lucien, the troll,  looked full of rage as I brought the money sitting in the middle toward myself.

“Better luck neck time, Lucy Darling~!” I spoke in a sing-song voice, I was opening up my satchel at this point, beginning to push in the silver and copper pieces I had just won. It was then I had noticed the clapping faded out, but not like the usual fading out of clapping like...something had happened. I looked up of course, only to find everyone either staring at me or at the table. A bad feeling shot up my spine, and I directed my green eyes to where everyone else's lay.

As I mentioned earlier my skills in hand magic isn’t exactly the best, although it doesn’t wear off in such short amount of time. I reached my hand up to my ear, expecting to feel a big teardrop earring, I didn’t. There are...a lot of factors that comes with using magic, and all magic users tend to wear earrings. Like a wand they can be considered a catalyst, but more often than not they’re not even used for making your magic more powerful just controlled. It really depends on the person.

For me I rely on my earrings to control my magic. There have been times, especially when using a wand, where it has gotten...out of control. But there have also been times like now where it makes me look like some apprentice wizard. Which, okay I technically am. But a beginning apprentice wizard. Which I am not. I’m far from it---it’s just not showing right now.

Not that it’s the point for it to be showing right now, rather the point is I don’t have my earrings so my magic is less than par right now and I have just gotten caught as a cheater. Or, no not a cheater just...yeah.

My eyes wandered back to those around me, I get a small chuckle and looped the satchel around my neck, “would ya look at the time...I gotta g-” I was fiercely interrupted by a knife being slammed on the table in front of me. I looked up to see it was Count Lucien’s stoic bodyguard. I instantly scrambled out of my seat then under and out the table, my legs made a beeline for the exit, while doing so I was greeted with trampling of footsteps from behind me. Crashing of bottles against the floor was heard, there was yelling, tables being broken. Even a dagger flew right beside my head, actually trimming off some hair. God damn it not I’m going to to have to fix that later.

There really was no time to be thinking about hair right now, not when I tripped over myself and fell flat on my chin in front of the door. I begun to push myself up, only to be pushed down, feeling the point of a boot in my back. Whoever that was hadn’t been showing any mercy, as they pushed their heel harder into my spine. To say the least it hurt like hell. It didn’t help my chin was flat against the wooden floorboards of the tavern, yikes.

I felt as a hand grabbed my hair, the pressure on my back leaving, and I was lifted up against the front of another. I could only assume it was the Count’s bodyguard as I was a few inches above the ground, and could feel a knife pressed to my throat. Reasons to hate the rich, they can get away with this crap in public.

My whole body was shaking, and I hated the feeling of being held up by my hair, it was short hair too so even worse. Gritting my teeth I directed my eyes to the troll that now stood in front of me, although I had to strain my eyes to look down so I could actually see him. Short things they are.

Lucien spoke in a gruff voice, “ya really shoulda thought twice before tryin’ to make a fool of me, apprentice.” He then took a step towards me, lifting his hand up and grabbing my chin, which most likely had a bruise on it, he squished my face. “I don’t let cheatas get away so easily ya know, gotta teach ‘em a lesson, make sure not to mess with the big L, ya know?” He let go of my face, and picked up my right arm, digging his sharp nails into my wrist while he continued, “I think we’ll start with getting rid of these pesky hands. Can’t have ya castin’ any more spells ‘n cheatin.’”

Oh no. Oh god no. When he said that I automatically begun to squirm, making the pain from my hair being pulled worse, but it didn’t matter. I wasnot going to let this fiend take away everything I have worked for.

The squirming didn’t help though, that was obvious when his grip around my wrist tightened and my neck begun to tingle. I could only assume the knife was pressed ever so hard enough to cut me but not deep, just a scratch. Things weren’t going great. Not at all. Why wasn’t anyone trying to get involved? Sure he was a rich guy with power but god damn, this was just horrible.

“Ya not gettin’ out of this dearie, ya crossed the Count, ya gonna pay the price,” the ugly troll had turned around and reached his hand out for the door, “when ya cut off ‘er hands leave ‘er in the streets and take the bag with the money, Nine.”

Nine. That was probably the bodyguards name, why a number? I didn’t pay second thought to the usage of wrong pronouns, as whatever it didn’t matter considering the situation. This guy was going to ruin my life and I can’t let that happen, what would Magus Arthur do in a situation like-

Magus Arthur.

Speak of the devil.

I almost stopped breathing when Count Lucien opened the door and my mentor stood there, his ombre hair braided over his shoulder and obvious rage written on his face. I usually find people with glasses to always look calm, even when they’re angry. But Magus Arthur quickly erased that, not even his glasses made him look like his usual calm self. Oh god I’m in serious trouble aren’t I?

The count threw his arms up, almost like a hug, “Magus! Great to see ya bud-”

He was met with the back of my mentor’s hand across his cheek, the troll quickly fell to the ground letting out a curse, “don’t ever touch my pupil again.”

The bodyguard---er---Nine was then given a death glare and quickly let go of my hair, I too dropping to the ground. I heard Nine back away, I didn’t really care as I was now bent over with my hands over my neck. Again I knew it wasn’t terribly cut but...still stung. I wasn’t really given much time to recuperate though, as I heard my mentor speak, “Lita get up, we’re going home, now.” His voice had an anger I had heard many times before, I knew I was bound to get yet another scolding. I probably deserved it.

As I heard him walking away, I dashed up and out the door, catching up to him. It was dark out so not many else were out, it was actually the middle of the night. I had snuck out of the house, it’s safe to assume either my brother told on me or he looked in my room and saw I wasn’t there. Of course he’d know where I would go...it’s not my fault I like frequenting this tavern, guess I won’t anymore now that I know everyone there is a total scumbag who won’t try to step in and help. Also because of uh...the incident that had just occurred.

“I’m very disappointed in you,” his eyes flickered to me for a moment before he continued, “why can’t you be more like your brother?”

That actually hurt, a lot. Iita was just such...a perfect kid in everyone’s eyes! It’s not my fault I’m not perfect like him, he wasn’t cursed with this so-called “gift” called magic! It’s a lot of work to train and sometimes you just need a break...need a craving to be like everyone else for once. He doesn’t have it bad as me, I have an excuse.

Of course though I didn’t say anything, I just continued walking as he continued, “have I done something wrong while raising you? Is this you acting out because you can’t vocalize your feelings? Because trust me, you can tell me anything. I won’t hate you, I never could hate you, Lita. You’re-”

“- like my own child. Yadda yadda I know, you’ve said this a million times,” I interrupted crossing my arms. Every time I mess up he always says something like this why can’t he take a hint?

Magus Arthur sighed, “I wouldn’t say a million times. But yes,” he stopped in his tracks and I stopped after realizing he was no longer walking

. I was about two feet away, I rose a brow, “why’d you stop?”

He had a look on his face, one I’ve seen many times before. Magus has this special talent where he knows when something is happening, something bad. It’s almost like a sixth sense. He told Iita and I that’s how he found us when we were kids. Honestly it’s always scary when this happens because I know he’s going to leave and sometimes when he comes back he...is hurt. What if he doesn’t come back? What if he...no.

“I forgot I had a meeting.”

I snort, “this late?”

“Lita.”

“Whatever, seeya later Pops,” I put my hands in my pants pocket looking away, “I guess we’ll talk about my grounding tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Great. ”

Right as I was about to start walking off I heard him speak, “and Lita?” I turned my head back, brow raised yet again, “uh yeah?”

He was silent for a moment, looking as if he was contemplating something, he ended up just shaking his head with a small smile. How the moon light shined on him made him look...sad. Especially with the reflection in his eyes. “Never mind, just get home kiddo,” he said.

I don’t know why but I had a bad feeling, I decided to push it back for now and give the old man a thumbs up. I then of course, turned back around and continued walking home. I heard the sound of fire for a moment before everything went quiet, teleportation magic. Only certified wizards were allowed to use it. My mentor was one, he did have the title “Magus” after all. I hope wherever he went he’s safe. I hope he comes home.

☆*:.｡.☆.｡.:*☆

The next morning I woke up to ice cold water being dumped on me. I automatically shot up on my bed, my arms and legs flailing as my eyes landed on the figure beside my bed. That figure was of course, my brother.

The morning light that shone through the window hit him perfectly, his mischievous grin bright and eyes highlighted, the snow white hair reflecting the light to make it seem brighter than it was. Then there was the bucket in his hands, shining slightly at the top where a few droplets of water had been. That asshole.

As if he had read my mind, he dropped the bucket on the floor and began running. I followed in pursuit, “come back here you twerp!”

Out of the two of us I was the older one, technically. I was born just a minute before him, so I was the older and superior twin. I also had magic! So again, superior. Although he was taller...but aside from that we were pretty much the same! See we were fraternal twins, where in somethings we are the same (hair, eyes), others we were different (magic, height). By same I don’t mean personality wise, god no we are as different as a cat and a dog. He was always so...grumpy, although how he was acting now didn’t show that side of him.

No, rather he was acting like the twerp he is and pissing me off!

My feet clapped against the wooden floorboards, the clapping was louder than usual as I was soaked in water. Which almost made me slip a few times. That boy was lucky I didn’t just automatically pass out when I had gotten home, or he would be dead by now for ruining my clothing from yesterday.

He still was going to die, just not as painful of a death.

I ran down the stairs, seeing the tail of his coat round the corner, “IITA I’M GOING TO KILL YOU IF YOU DON’T COME BACK HERE!”

Rounding the corner when I reached the bottom of the stairs, I was automatically greeted with my brother sitting on the couch with his not-girlfriend. They’re basically dating but refuse to admit it. She had a basket in her lap, and lifted her hand, waving at me.

“Hello, Lita! I hope you don’t mind if I come along with you and Iita while you both shop! I need to do some shopping myself actually,” spoke the half-elf, a bright smile on her face.

Geez this girl. My rage was put to the side as I gave a small smile in return, “hi Eleanor, give me a sec will ya?”

My eyes flickered to Iita as I stomped toward him, leaving wet puddles in my trek, he wore an obvious face of fear as I approached. Eleanor on the other hand wasn’t phased by this at all, she had grown used to our antics by now after all these years. She simply just scooted over when I got to the couch, probably not wanting to get wet, and I merely opened my arms wide then plopped on my brother, engulfing him in a big hug. I made sure to squeeze tightly.

“OH MY GOD GET OFF ME YOU’LL RUIN MY CLOTHES!”

“Aw, c’mon I just wanna show my lil bro some love!”

There was of course thrashing around from him, admittedly he was stronger than me though so he did evidently push me off. I fell onto the floor with a satisfying “thump.” Before I could say anything I heard a pair of hands clap, and looked toward the kitchen to see Eleanor, “if you two rascals are done shall we go shopping now?”

Iita and I exchanged a look, before I shot up and quickly ran up the stairs to change.

☆*:.｡.☆.｡.:*☆

The two love-birds sat across the table from me. It had been around noon now, so we decided to take a break from our shopping to eat. The shopping had turned from buying food to just spoiling ourselves, I ended up getting my haircut again, so now my hair was all soft and cleanly cut. It was more of a trim than anything, but I had my undercut once more so I felt content. Aside from that I got things to restock the supplies for potions and the such, we had been running low on frog legs and summoning powder.

I lifted my pinky fingers as I ate the sausage and cheese sandwich, I scarfed it down quickly. In my defense I didn’t have breakfast this morning and not a big dinner last night, so I was pretty hungry. I grabbed my big wooden mug and began chugging, it was apple cider, not the alcoholic kind though. I never really liked alcohol the taste was too bitter for me.

I swiped a slice of bread from Iita’s plate when he wasn’t looking, I nibbled on it while I eyed around the tavern. This was a different one from last night, this one was actually the only one I refuse to do any gambling in because a friend of ours works here. Or well a friend of Magus’, he was there from the beginning along with Magus, so I would never gamble here. Maybe as a respect thing, or maybe because I just don’t want to screw up and get in trouble. Either way it’s a promise I’ve made to myself, I just don’t want to start crap in this tavern. Any other one I don’t care.

There were a lot of people in the tavern though today, which wasn’t surprising since it was a Saturday afternoon, it was just slightly overwhelming. Don’t get me wrong, I love people, especially lots of people, it’s just...so much. Like my senses felt overwhelmed, it could be from all the noises and smells too, either way it was just a bit too much. I sunk down in my seat.

I gave a big yawn as I begun spacing out, the noises around me slowly becoming slurred together, the world getting foggy. Even the seat beneath me felt like it had started to leave, and suddenly it was like I sat in a thin cloudy mist of air. The only thing that really registered in my brain was the slice of bread in my hand, but even then it was barely there it felt like. I was just...floating with a blank mind.

The world around me changed once more from a foggy atmosphere to a setting I was all too familiar with. My feet touched the ground that looked like it could be water, but it felt solid but gave off a ripple just like water does when you touch it. In the reflection of the not-water ground was the sky above me, or what I assumed was the sky. I looked up, the purple, blue, and pink hues of the sky with freckles of stars reflected into my eyes. This is the setting I was always greeted with in my dreams.

When I first started getting dreams with this place in it I didn’t really pay mind to it, is was when for over a month I continued having it that I thought something was wrong. When I told Magus he was surprised, at the time I was nine, so ten years ago. He had been surprised because I shouldn’t have been getting these dreams until much later in my training. He said that this place was a pocket realm of sorts, all magic-users have them and have access to them at any given moment.

I don’t have control of when I enter it or not, but I know it was mainly used so people could just get away from everything, or to train. Here’s the thing though, only  your soul can come here.

For instance, while I am currently in the pocket realm, I’m not here physically. Meaning my body is vulnerable to the outside world, in a way my body is just a puppet with no master. My body is not the only thing that’s vulnerable, my soul is too. Especially since I’m still a wizard in training. There have been stories about magic-users who got stuck in their own pocket realms, their body dying from lack of proper care leaving no vessel for them to return to. Which then leads for the soul to eventually wither off into existence, as a soul can’t exist without it’s originally body still in tack. At least a living soul, dead souls are a completely different subjects.

You can also be attacked in these pocket realms if you are not exactly...stable.

By stable I mean your mental state. The monsters of your mind can take form and destroy your soul, which then leaves the body to die from lack of proper care. Despite all these risks though these pocket realms are still great.

I throw the bread in my hand to the liquid-like ground, and begin running before taking a leap and falling onto a bed of flower petals.

Although I don’t have full control over the pocket realm, more so of when I leave and enter, I do have control over what goes on in it so long as I’m mentally stable. Which I am.

I roll over on the petals, looking up at the sky again, a dopey smile on my face. Magus says I should be using this place for training rather than lounging around, but he just doesn’t understand. Sometimes I need to get away from everything and this place always seems to do that for me, although I don’t control when I enter or leave I always seem to come here at the right moment.

Magus said to be careful about that though, as I could be doing something and suddenly I’m pulled here, hence as to why I need to learn to control my entering and leaving of this place.

Grabbing a handful of the yellow petals, I threw them up into the air. They emitted a small glow, and against the pink and purple sky it looked beautiful. This was something I’m sure I’d never see in real life. Like sure, there’s stuff like magic but this , no this isn’t something that I would see in real life. I don’t think there’s a place on Terra that exists like this.

Of course there were stories about so-called “magical” places on Terra, but those had mainly been folklore, just made up and used as bedtime stories for little kids.

Turning back onto my side, I see ripples in the watery ground as a memory is played in front of me like a play. I loved those made up stories as a kid, that certainly showed here. With both Iita and I under a pillow fort, huddling together over a big book. I don’t quite remember exactly when this happened, but considering we both look genuinely happy and that book was one I got after Magus...well it’s safe to assume it was after we had been “taken-in” by him.

I don’t really consider what he did taking us in if you can’t tell. To me that term is temporary, rather than taking us in he saved us. Plus although it’s not official, he’s pretty much adopted us at this point. After all he has said on several different occasions how the two of us are like his own children, which I’m fine with. Now I won’t be calling him Dad anytime soon, that’d be weird even if he basically is that.

Plus the term Dad has mold grown over it the past decade for me. After my actual one left us, two small defenseless kids, alone in a shack in the middle of the woods, the word “Dad” has lost all meaning to me. It’s just another title, and I don’t care if others use it, but for me it’s a useless word. I can’t say the same for Iita.

I shouldn’t have begun thinking of Dad now though because the pocket realm has decided to begin playing whatever memories I have left of the old man. I cover my eyes as I let out a groan, there had been times where I considered casting a Forget Spell, or drinking and Amnesia Elixir, just to be rid myself of whatever memories I have left of my so-called, “Dad.” But I knew that in doing that my whole memory would be lost, and I’m not willing to sacrifice everything I’ve been given over the past decade. Forgetting the deadbeat isn’t worth forgetting everything else.

Sure, he may have ruined my view of what a Father should be. Sure, he may have ruined my early childhood. Sure, he may be the reason Mom left. But I won’t let these thoughts control me. I can’t let them control me.

I push myself up, having enough of the memories playing, and step off the thick pile of flower petals. Usually I would have pulled my wand out of my boot, but considering I have free will here and what I do won’t actually hurt someone, I lunge at the figure that depicted my father in the memory.

Like most everything else in this pocket realm, the figure was solid and I crashed atop him on the wooden ground. Wooden due to the setting of the memory. My arms then made a beeline for his neck, and I wrapped my hands around his throat, nice and firm. He wasn’t struggling, and for a second, considering this was my first time actually attacking something here, I had thought memories weren’t able to fight back.

Boy was I wrong.

He soon began thrashing when I pressed my thumbs down against his adams apple, and ended up pushing me off. I had been caught off guard, and landed a couple feet away, outside the memory. Water rippled around me, and this time it felt like I actually had gotten splashed with water.

I barely had time to recover, as by the moment I looked up the figure that once had looked like my old man, was now me. I was stunned to say the least, and a bit afraid. It didn’t help seeing the wicked glint in the green eyes of mine, they looked...dark and unforgiving. A scowl across the figure’s face as they lifted their foot and pressed the heel of the boot to my throat. They twisted their foot around, and pushed down hard. I felt like I couldn’t breath.

Oh no. Fuck. Shit.

I began thrashing around as I felt like I was being brought down into the very ground beneath me, like it had been some sort of goo. It had been like the ground had a mind of it’s own, bringing me down the more the fake-me pushed.

I didn’t have much more time to think, as my need for air became more and more critical. I didn’t even have much time to breath though when in swift movements a wand was whipped in front of me, then a bright white light encapsulated all that I could see.

I sat up in my seat panting, opening my eyes and looking around. What in the hell just happened? Yet again I had no time to think, as my senses were filled up again and I the voices of Iita and Eleanor began to register, I was bombarded with questions from the two. I didn’t know what to say, or what to do. For a minute I sat there staring at them, mouth open wide.

Only when I had mumbled a small, “I…” the tavern doors were kicked open. I instantaneously looked toward the sound of commotion, and a group of five guards flooded in, looking around. Everything was so overwhelming, I didn’t know what was going on.

It got worse when one of them made eye contact with me, before waving the others over and the group of guards marched up to our table.

Fear dripped from every ounce of my being as I looked up at them, the only words my mind seemed to register had been, “you’re under arrest.”

Whatever they said or had happened after that was just a blank.

What in the hell was going on?

☆*:.｡.☆.｡.:*☆

The next thing I knew I had been thrown in a cell in the dungeon, hands locked up with no explanation as to why I was here. Or at least to what I remembered, because I’m pretty sure when I blanked they had said why I was arrested, but all I remember was being told I was arrested then it was like a sudden gap in my memory. One moment I’m at the tavern, the next I’m sitting in a cold cell with cobwebs and rats. Pretty fucking awful. Especially if I’m waking up from basically, to this. Well maybe this was better than dying, probably, hopefully.

I brought my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs. It was cold in here. The dungeons were never exactly a great place. The guards didn’t care if the people down here were comfortable, after all if they are down here then they must deserve to suffer. Even if it’s for something small as stealing bread. Which I swear I haven’t done. Ever. I mean there was that time in school, but that was in school, and years ago too.

Point is, the law system for crimes was screwed up. Someone who stole bread could be in here for as long as a serial killer, which was just really unfair. I don’t understand how you can give the same punishment for stealing bread as you do to someone that kills. It’s immoral in my opinion. If you steal a night or two should be enough, maybe even a warning if it’s for something small like a loaf of bread.

Then again if someone is stealing bread that means it’s the kingdoms fault for not providing enough jobs or protection for their citizens. Vruviel doesn’t have an overwhelming amount of beggars or thieves, but they still exist. I feel like they have every right to steal bread every once and a while if they are so poor they don’t even have a house. Especially if it’s for a family.

But enough about my thoughts on the horrid system here, I don’t understand why I’m here. I’m a good citizen. Or well, at least that’s what I like to think.

I mean sure, there are a few times where I have gotten into trouble but it wasn’t anything that would’ve gotten me arrested. No rather it was just casting a spell I don’t know how to cast...or being a kid playing in the market and to say the least I was scrubbing floors for a month. My face scrunched up, at least I wasn’t chained to the wall like a certain skeleton friend beside me.

God what is Magus Arthur going to say? The thought of my Mentor rose my anxiety and frustration. He’ll kill me.

In an instant I stood up, jumping to the metal bars and kicking my feet against them, “let me out of here!”

I regretted that automatically, and ended up hopping on one foot, hands wrapped around the one I hit against the bars. God damn it. This sucks. First Magus caught me last night, then I got water poured on me, and now here I am in some stupid dungeon with a newly hurt right foot. Universe why must you hate me so?

I plopped back onto the cold cobble floor, crossing my legs and gritting my teeth. Iita better have told someone. How long have I been here? I really hope not long. I mean I don’t feel hungry, so can’t be that long...right?

Yeah, right.

I huffed again, I could just...break out?

I mean it’s not a bad idea.

What am I saying it’s a horrible idea. Magus would actually kill me.

I was pushed out of my thoughts of hatred for this situation by the hearing of footsteps, now’s my chance.

I pushed myself up, wrapping my hands around the metal bars and even trying to shake them a bit, “let me out! Let me out, let me out, let me out!!! ”

Well the universe can’t hate me that much cause the person who came down here was obviously here to get me, as the guard gave me a cold gaze while sliding the key into the lock of my cell.

“...let me out please?”

Click.

I just about jumped for joy, until I saw a different guard enter the cell, holding out any magic users worst nightmare. Magic Prevention Gauntlets. I’ve never worn them, just read about them after Magus had mentioned them in a lesson a few years back. Pretty much used on criminals who are able to use magic, it prevents them from doing anything that would help them. In regular hand-restraints a magic-user could get out without a sweat, but these have a spell only magic-users in the courts of Kingdoms know. The spell is Evanescent , just like the name means when you put your hands in these things...your magic just fades away, at least while they are in them. Outside it’s back, but from what I’ve read it’s a bit of an...interesting experience to go through.

The guard gave a cough and I almost jumped at the sudden noise, before taking a deep breath and reluctantly moving my hands towards the gauntlets. Magus really isn’t going to like hearing about this. God I hope he got home and Iita told him what happened, I really need the guy right now.

When my hands were fully encapsulated in the gauntlets the guard almost instinctively took a step back, for a moment I didn’t understand why, until the pain hit.

It felt like I was being torn in half, my legs wobbled and I fell to my knees, screaming in pain as tears from my eyes splashed against the cobble floor. It was like a part of me was being ripped out, and it hurt, so much. This wasn’t how it was described in the books, it was described to feel like a weight was gone, like you were lighter. It never mentioned this. This was...inhumane, it was torture. What could I have done to ever deserve this?

What could anyone have done to deserve this? No one deserves to feel like they are being ripped apart, to feel like your very being is being broken. It’s a horrific feeling that the book never could have readied me for, even if it had a correct description...I don’t think anyone would be ready to be put through this feeling.

The pain stopped suddenly, and I felt...empty. I didn’t feel complete. I felt numb almost, it was a sickening feeling. I also felt drained of energy, which had made me fall to the ground on my side, my cheek pushed against the cold cobble. Tears still streamed from my eyes.

I couldn’t feel anything.

I wasn’t given time to even take this in, and I was pulled up by my arms, being pushed out of the cell, I automatically hit the ground again. I felt like goo, but that of course didn’t matter as I was pulled up again, although this time the hands remained on me, and I was basically being dragged on the floor but what I assumed to be two guards. The hallway was dimly lit, and my eyelids felt heavy it just all, any ounce of energy I had was stripped from me. Because of these stupid gauntlets.

I was blinded by a bright light, only lifting my head slightly to see we were now outside, I guess I got one of the cells that wasn’t so far below...lucky me. I let my head slump back down though, this is going to be the last of me isn’t it? They’re probably taking me to a guillotine for something I don’t even know I did.

That was the worst thing really, I’m being tried for something I didn’t know I had done. It was garbage. Okay I’m assuming I’m being tried. I guess I could be jumping to conclusions, but it’s kinda hard not to when you’re in this sort of situation.

The blinding light went away and I assumed I was back indoors, okay so they probably dragged me through the courtyard. But that’s where the guillotine is so...am I not being killed? The thought gave me a small sense of hope, enough to inject energy into my limbs once more. I gained control of myself, and rather than continue to let the guards drag me actually use my own two legs to walk, they still though held onto my arms. I only noticed now how tight they were holding, it hurt like hell.

Now I usually don’t do illegal things, sure I gamble and get into trouble a bit but, I don’t want to end up in jail for something I didn’t do. There’s very little chance Magus has returned knowing him, and Iita isn’t the best at convincing, so the chances of getting out legally were slim to none, even if I’m not facing death by guillotine I rather take a risk than just give up like this.

Earlier I was foolish to not break out when I had a chance, it’d be foolish of me to not try to do the same now with what little strength was given back.

That’s it, no backing down now.

I threw myself against the guard on my left, it hurt because of the armor, but I knew I caught both of them by surprise from the noise that left their mouths, also their hands around my arms had left. The left guard though had crashed into the wall, and groaned, a smirk started on my face only to quickly leave when I heard the unsheathing of a sword. Shit.

I took that as my cue to begin running, although I went the way we had come as I don’t want to be anywhere near where they were taking me.

It was hard with my hands in the gauntlet in front of me, but adrenaline kicked in now and before I knew it I was greeted by blinding light again. I wasn’t out of the red yet though cause I could hear the clanking of the other guard swiftly behind me.

There had of course been people out in the courtyard, but it was mainly maids and a few, from what I assumed, royal visitors from other kingdoms. I again didn’t have much time to think, the clanking of feet still behind me. I continued running and pushed through the group of royals, all gasping and letting out cries of offense. I then ran down the open corridor just past them, inside once more.

I took two sharp right turns, a left, then up a spiral staircase, all the while pushing aside those in my way with my shoulder. It seemed from the noises behind me I was losing the guard a bit...or should I say guards? I’m fairly certain that by now he’s gotten reinforcements, which is probably logical to assume. Although I really hope not.

As I turned a corner I spotted a door open just a crack, sprinting to it I was able to enter before those following noticed. I knew they had left as I heard their footsteps run right past the door, although yet again I was not given much time to think when I turned around.

I was greeted by a very dressed up room, along with a very dressed up girl sitting at a vanity.

She let out a scream.

Lovely.

I ran around the bed to the vanity, trying to shush her, she instantaneously slapped me across the face, I’m sure it left a mark. Before given a chance to respond though she tackled me to the floor, sitting atop me and holding her hand up ready to slap me again if she needed to.

The girl was small but...she sure was strong. Then again everyone’s stronger than me.

“Who are you to dare barge in my room like that?” She questioned in a very cold and icy voice. Yikes.

I was only now getting a better look of her, and I knew all hope was lost when I had recognized the girl to be the one and only, Princess Abigail VII of Vruviel. The blonde hair and blues eyes didn’t really give it away, but the gold and ruby heart necklace is what did. I stiffened a bit, “erm...I am...uh…”

“Go on, spit it out.”

“Ever heard of uh...Magus Arthur?”

She rose a brow for a moment, “he’s part of the royal guard, so yes.”

I honestly forgot that my Mentor was, what with his sixth sense he’s a fantastic item to the guard, I didn’t think the Princess would pay attention to that sort of stuff though.

“I’m his uh...apprentice.”

“Since when did he take on apprentices?”

“I’m a special case.”

She rose a brow, “what do you mean?”

“Uh...not the point. Anyways, that’s who I am, the old man’s apprentice, you can call me Lita.”

The princess stared at me for a few moments, said few moments felt unbearable and I honestly wanted to die. But she eventually gave a slow nod, and got up, yanking my arm to bring me to my feet, it was really only then she had noticed the gauntlets. My face heated up with embarrassment, lucky me.

Although to my surprise she merely pushed me to sit down on the edge of the bed, before turning to her vanity, dug around in a drawer, before turning back to me. She kneeled a bit, and had a thing knife, along with a lock pick. Odd for a princess, but I won’t judge.

It had only been then that I realized what she was about to do.

“Oh that won’t wo-”

She seemingly ignored me and just automatically went to trying to pick the lock. Which was magically sealed, so I knew it wouldn’t work.

Again that’s what I thought until there was a click, and she removed the set of gauntlets. Suddenly everything was returned to me, it was like taking a big gulp of air after being suffocated, and it felt so good. I was still exhausted, and I looked at my hands shakily.

I looked at the blonde who had been awaiting a response, “thank you, Princess.”

Her cheeks got a small red tint, and she stood straight up again, scratching the back of her hair, “it’s no problem, darling. I can’t imagine what Sir Arthur would do if his apprentice was locked up in gauntlets, whoever did this to you will surely pay. I will find the guard that did this and fire them on the spot...also you don’t need to be so formal. Please,” she folded her hands together giving a soft smile, her blue eyes twinkling, “call me Abigail.”

My heart automatically felt like it had been squeezed, she was so nice. She didn’t even know half of the ordeal that I was going through, and I wasn’t a very good person so I didn’t deserve this kindness from her. I merely gave a nod though, “right, Abigail.”

She blinked, obviously expecting more before suddenly jumping up and down, she grabbed my hands holding them up with hers as a huge smile overtook her face, “I just had the loveliest idea! I am to have a ball in a few weeks, as my birthday is coming up, I shall be turning eighteen! My parents were wanting a Prince from the Sledora Dynasty to be my escort at the ball, but I really do not want to go with the man. He is much older than I am and I do not believe in...relationships of those types. I have a feeling they are wanting to marry me off to him, but since you are the apprentice of Magus Arthur I’m sure they would let you escort me!”

This was very sudden and my face had grown to the deepest shade of crimson there was. Was she...asking me to be her royal date? No no no, that can’t be. That would be ridiculous why would a Princess want me to escort her? All the while I was becoming more and more brain dead by the moment, it seemed to be worrying Abigail, who had promptly moved her hands from mine and to my shoulders, shaking me a bit.

“Lita! Lita are you okay? Lita! Hey, Lit-”

“Yes,” the word sputtered out of my mouth.

“What?”

I took a deep breath, standing up now and looking down into the blonds crystal blue eyes, my hands having moved to being rested on her waist.

“Yes, Princess Abigail the Seventh of Vruviel,” then being the master of smooth moves I am, no matter how flustered I was now, I removed a hand from my shoulder and brought her hand up to my lips to seal a kiss, “I accept your offer to be your escort if you’ll have me.”