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[theshatteredrose]

Hmm, so the favourable length is about 20ish prompts. I'll be sure to remember that next time I create some prompt lists!

[theshatteredrose]

Yeyasu - Disgaea 7: Vows of the Virtueless

[theshatteredrose]

Duran - Trials of Mana

[theshatteredrose]

Secrets: Best Left Untold? (Chapter 15) - Etrian Odyssey Untold 2 Fanfiction

AN: Whew, I think we’re about half way through this story. Yeah. It’s a long one XD Hope you enjoy~

Ao3 | Wattpad | Inkitt | FFNet

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Chapter 15:

Flavio did not get any sleep last night. As predicted. All he could see after he closed his eyes were the bright orange glowing flames of the fire as it engulfed the restaurant. And all he could smell was the rancid scent of smoke, even after he had a shower and changed his clothes.

And all he could think about was how it was his fault.

He tried to be rational. Logically, it was not his fault. It could not have been. There was no way he would ever, ever want someone to literally burn down the restaurant. Especially with Regina, with anyone still inside. There was no way he would allow that to happen.

But someone did it for him. In that irrational, deranged mind, they did it for his sake. He was the purpose. Their purpose. Their justification.

And that made him sick to his stomach.

With the sun peeking in through the miniscule gaps in his curtains, Flavio decided that he could no longer tolerate lying in bed, tormented by his thoughts. He threw back the covers and slipped out into the cool morning air. He suppressed a shiver as he slipped on some warmer clothes, promising himself to do some laundry later in the desperate attempt to rid his explorer clothing of that smoky scent.

As he got dressed, his gaze drifted toward the lower drawer of his desk, where the numerous letters sat. Where the devastating letter he received last night lay hidden. And he quickly looked away, purposely looking at anything and everything other than his work desk.

Wrapping his coat around him snuggly, Flavio exited his room and spent a moment ensuring the door was locked tight. The familiar sound of the murmuring voices was comforting as Flavio descended the stairs. As was the sight of the ever-dedicated matron of the inn.

Hana turned to greet him, smiling softly. She, no doubt, noted the dark rings under his eyes, indicating how sleep had alluded him that night. “How are you feeling, Sweetie?”

“I’m hanging in there,” Flavio answered honestly, trying to smile in return. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. Unsurprisingly. Have you heard any news?”

Hana shook her head. “Nothing yet, I’m afraid. But I have told the guards to keep me up to date for you.”

He figured as much.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” A frown tugged at his lips and his gaze flickered over toward the tearoom, where it was locked off. And he promptly remembered what had occurred yesterday afternoon. Before the dinner party. Before the arson at the restaurant. Before he received that letter.

He suppressed a sigh.

“The window in the tearoom-?”

“Don’t you worry about that!” Hana quickly cut him off. “You have enough on your mind. Why don’t you make your way to the dining room? Breakfast will begin, soon.”

Flavio honestly was not that hungry, but he had better get something to chew on.

“Sure.” Flavio gave the dedicated inn-keeper a small smile before he turned and quietly made his way toward the dining hall. Normally, he’d stay around the foyer, chatting aimlessly with Hana about this or that. But he was in no mood that morning.

There were a few guests lingering in the hall as he stepped inside, gathered near the buffet tables in preparations for breakfast. Flavio chose a table at the back of the room. At the centre of the back wall, away from the windows. He usually liked to sit by the windows, to gaze outside. But thanks to certain events, he had developed a new paranoia, unfortunately.

Flavio sat down, folded his arms atop of the table, and rested his chin on top of his arms.

He could not believe yesterday and last night happened. It was all so surreal.

The guy with the knife from the tearoom could not be the one who had been sending the flowers and cards. The protective explorers and adventurers staying at the inn would not allow the guy to re-enter after the stunt he pulled.

So, he was the one sending the letters? Must be pretty desperate to talk to him if he was willing to pull a knife and try to break in through a window.

Or just crazy.

But who could be sending the flowers? It certainly was not Mandelson. He was at the party last night and with those eyes, people would know if he was hanging around the inn or the restaurant.

He also was not fully convinced a Viscount would do the dirty work himself.

“Flavio.”

Once more, Fafnir’s voice brought an immediate feeling of calm over Flavio and he felt his shoulders relax. He lulled his head to the side, languidly watching as Fafnir walked over to him and grab the back of the chair closest to him, dragging it closer toward him and sat down.

“Did you get any sleep?” Fafnir asked as he wrapped an arm around his shoulders, comfortingly rubbing his hang along his arm.

Flavio shook his head as he leaned toward Fafnir and Fafnir sighed.

“I didn’t either,” he admitted. “Chloe slept in Bertrand’s room last night. I told him to keep an eye on her today.”

That was for the best. She experienced the high of her first important society dinner, followed by the devastating blow of enduring the sight of the restaurant burning before her very eyes. All her hard work, the place she found rest and relaxation in, being destroyed directly in front of her.

It was hard to comprehend.

“Sir Fafnir, Sir Flavio.”

Fafnir kept his arm around Flavio’s shoulders as he turned his head to his left, and Flavio himself lifted his head from his folded arms. Despite her elegant pose and posture, Arianna’s pale, washed out features indicated that she, too, did not get much sleep that night.

“Morning, Arianna,” Flavio greeted, choosing not to ask her how she fared during the night. Instead, he motioned to one of the chairs with a tilt of his head. Inviting her to join them in their tired, pity party.

Instead, Arianna remained standing. And rather uncharacteristically, her hands fidgeted in front of her. “I would like to visit Dame Regina at the hospital,” she said, before she hesitated for a moment. “Unaccompanied, if possible.”

Flavio tilted his head to the side while a slight frown tugged at Fafnir’s lips. Before he could ask whether she was sure, whether she was all right, Flavio nodded.

“Yeah, I think it is best that Arianna be with Regina today,” Flavio stated. “Just the two of them. Regina is more likely to open up with just Arianna there.”

At his words, Arianna visibly relaxed. “I’m glad you understand, Sir Flavio.”

Well, it only made sense. The two had grown close, after all. And Regina would feel as though she needed to put up a strong front if everyone rocked up to see how she was doing. After all, she was that of the gentry. They had reputations, facades they needed to maintain. If only Arianna was to visit her that day, the pressures to uphold that mask would not be as heavy.

That restaurant was her greatest dream. It hurt her the most. Regina needed to grieve properly.

Flavio reached up and patted Fafnir’s hand lightly. “Fafnir, you should escort Arianna there. The paths are still icy.”

“Yes, this is fine,” Arianna replied. “But Sir Fafnir should return immediately. He is needed here, after all.”

Flavio felt a small smile tug at his lips. He was not the only one being considerate.

“Alright,” Fafnir agreed, which was not a surprise.

Flavio looked up just as Hana began to fill the buffet tables with breakfast. “Take some breakfast with you,” he suggested to Arianna. “I don’t know what the hospital food is like, but I’m sure it won’t compete with Hana’s cooking.”

Arianna clapped her hands in front of her, a bit of colour returning to her cheeks, just so grateful to be of use in some way. No matter how small. “Yes, a wonderful idea.”

“You better eat something, too,” Fafnir stated, leaving no room for argument.

Flavio rolled his eyes fondly. “Yes, yes,” he said as he pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll take some food up to Bertrand and Chloe, too.”

The three of them joined the throngs of other guests at the buffet tables. The scent of the fresh bread and hot food did stir Flavio’s appetite, but he focused on choosing foods that he could take up to Bertrand’s room. Hopefully, there will be something left for him to get into when he returned. He really needed to eat something.

Arianna chose some fresh bread and baked goods that she could take to the hospital. She carefully wrapped them in a large napkin.

After gathering what they needed, and already dressed in their warmest clothing, Flavio walked Fafnir and Arianna to the front entrance to see the two off.

“Until this evening, Sir Flavio!”

“I’ll be back soon,” Fafnir promised.

Flavio smiled and waved the two off. His smile slipped from his lips the moment they were out of sight and he slowly lowered his hand to his side. The cold of the outside was nothing compared to the loneliness he felt without Fafnir being close by.

He felt…vulnerable.

But…he needed some time to himself. To think. To gather his own thoughts.

Tray of food in hand, Flavio turned on his heel and headed upstairs to Bertrand’s room. And in doing so, he walked past his room. It was pure instinct that made him stop and inspect the door to his room. Outwardly, nothing was amiss, thankfully. Yet, from where he stood, he could not see if he had anymore unwanted notes shoved under the frame.

At least there was not a knife sticking out of the wooden panelling.

Flavio shook his head to rid himself of that memory and hurried to the door that led to Bertrand’s room. He balanced the tray in the crook of his arm once more as he knocked lightly with his knuckles. A moment later, the door opened, and a dishevelled looking Bertrand greeted him.

“Hey, kid,” Bertrand muttered quickly, his voice purposely low.

“Chloe sleeping?” Flavio asked in response, as he could see that Bertrand did not manage to get many hours of sleep in himself.

Bertrand nodded and indicated toward his bed with a tilt of his head. “A couple of hours.”

At least someone managed to get some sleep. Flavio was almost envious. “I brought you two some breakfast.”

“Ah.” Bertrand took the tray of food from him, but said little else.

And they did not talk much after that. There was not anything for them to say, really. Chloe was asleep in Bertrand’s bed, so it was best that they remained as quiet as possible.

Flavio left the room and quietly shut the door behind him. He leaned his back against it for a moment to muse to himself. Should he return to his room? Probably not. He should get something to eat himself. At least attempt it. It would make Fafnir happy.

Yeah, he would do that.

As he pushed away from the door, a movement from the corner of his eye caused him to flinch. He immediately stilled and turned to his left. There was not anything of immediate interest. He was probably seeing things. Edgy after everything that had happened. Or just another explorer.

He should just walk away.

But…it would not hurt to have a quick look, either.

Flavio quietly edged his way to the end of the hallway, where another hallway branched off. He placed his hand on the wall, to use it as leverage to peer around the corner.

And found himself looking into a pair of silver eyes.

His heart immediately dropped into the pit of his stomach as realisation and dread washed over him.

It was the guy from yesterday…

A hand was pressed against Flavio’s mouth before he could react. Another hand roughly snared the collar of his clothing and he was abruptly pulled toward his attacker. His back was slammed against the wall, prompting a muffled, strangled gasp escaped his lips. Fear rushed through him as immediately reached up the grasp desperately at the man’s wrist.

The man, however, barely responded to his struggles, simply presenting himself in front of him. Thankfully, keeping inches between them and not violating his personal space.

“Just listen,” the man said, his voice low in a hush as not to draw attention to. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Flavio, of course, did not believe him for a moment. Not with the way he had wielded that knife the last time they had met. But he did not seem to have it with him not. Not in sight, at least. He could have it within reach. The best thing Flavio could do was be compliant.

Swallowing thickly, Flavio meekly nodded his head.

“I don’t have much time,” the man continued, his silver eyes boring into his. “Sidero have too much power. Go to the bar. Check the photos. He’s not the same man. The previous Mandelson had a mole under his eye. This one doesn’t.”

Flavio furrowed his brow at the man short, quick ramblings.

‘This one’? Sidero? Who the hell was that? What in the world-?

“You’re not the first that looks like Wioleta. You won’t be the last. The others have disappeared. You can’t, too. They’ve taken too many already.”

What? What was he talking about?!

“Hey!”

Flavio’s captor abruptly lurched away from him, literally throwing himself backwards, before he turned sharply to his right and sprinted away. Flavio gasped aloud and leaned heavily against the wall behind him, coughing lightly.

He flinched when another figure appeared before him, but he soon breathed a sigh of relief when he recognised the redheaded protector.

“Flavio?” Hrothgar placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“Y-yeah.”

Hrothgar soon furrowed his brow, his protectiveness coming through. “What happened? Who was that? Did he do anything?”

Flavio rubbed his forehead in exasperation. “No. Just ramblings. Nothing he said made sense.”

That guy. He was clearly a conspiracy theorist. Just what he needed.

He attracted all kinds, didn’t he?

But…

What that man said could be debunked. He just needed to go to the bar and looked for a photo with Mandelson in it. Why Cass would have a photo of a Viscount in his tavern, Flavio had not a clue. But the man did have an interest in collecting photos and he did present them around his tavern. So, maybe…

Did Mandelson have a mole under one of his eyes, though? Flavio could not remember. Those bright, almost unnatural emerald green eyes drew all his attention. To be honest, he could not describe the rest of his face. Just his eyes.

Hmm.

He would not be a decent member of the Midgard Library if he just brushed off the possibility as paranoid ramblings. He needed to make sure, for his own sake.

Hrothgar looked down the hallway, where the strange man had disappeared in, a deep frown on his lips. “You are certainly having a hard time lately, haven’t you?”

Flavio gave a short, half laugh. Hrothgar did not know half of it!

“I just came back from the restaurant,” Hrothgar began. “The flames are out, so the investigation is now underway.”

Flavio winced. “How bad is it?”

“The restaurant isn’t good,” Hrothgar sighed. “But from what I understand, your storage and grimoires received little damage. Only the restaurant itself received the baulk of the damage.”

He supposed he should be grateful for minor miracles. At least they could return to the labyrinth and gather ingredients necessary to get the restaurant back up and running. If Regina wanted to try again, of course.

Hopefully, Arianna would help convince her to keep reaching for that dream of hers. To come back from such a devastating blow was sure to earn her the respect of the people of High Lagaard.

“Flavio?”

Flavio immediately pushed away from the wall and stepped out into the hallway. “Here, Fafnir.”

Fafnir stood in front of Flavio’s room. A slight frown graced Fafnir’s lips as he turned to face him. “You weren’t at breakfast,” he said, a slight accusation in his tone.

“Ah, well…”

Hrothgar folded his arms loosely across his chest. “Flavio had just been accosted by someone.”

Flavio could not help but sigh as Fafnir immediately bristled protectively and quickly stalked over to him. He allowed the other to fuss over him, carefully inspecting for any injuries, knowing full well that no matter how many times he told him, promised him that he was fine, he would not be satisfied until he saw for himself.

“Was it the one from the tearoom yesterday?” Fafnir asked.

And that made Hrothgar’s own frown deepen. “What else happened yesterday?” he immediately asked.

Hrothgar must not have known about the incident in the tearoom yesterday. That explained why he did not chase the guy down himself.

With two different but protective men hovering, Flavio had to spend minutes engaging in two dissimilar yet similar conversations. Hrothgar’s protectiveness could be pacified with a few promises of caution. Fafnir, however, was sure to be glued to Flavio’s side for the rest of the day and night.

Not that Flavio was going to complain.

But Flavio could not get what that man said out of his head. Their, ah, conversation was short. Brief. Ramblings of someone who had obvious paranoia issues.

He just needed to make sure.

“Fafnir, can we head to the bar for a bit? There’s…a change in scenery would be nice.”

[theshatteredrose]

You're welcome. Have fun!

[theshatteredrose]

Why yes, of course. Feel free to use my prompts in whatever way suits your creative needs!

[theshatteredrose]

Oh, nothing sinister. I enjoy making random prompt lists for my sideblog and grew quite curious as to what the most popular prompt list length is.

[theshatteredrose]

hugs hugs hugs hugs

[theshatteredrose]

Secrets: Best Left Untold? (Chapter 14) - Etrian Odyssey Untold 2 Fanfiction

AN: Thank you all for your patience! Hopefully, I can get back to regular uploads from here on out. Hope you enjoy reading~

Ao3 | Wattpad | Inkitt | FFNet

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Chapter 14:

Flavio grew worried as Fafnir continued to frown. He had not seen him speaking with Mandelson, had he? The conversation in itself was not exactly a welcomed one, and the man left Flavio feeling conflicted, uncomfortable, and confused. That was sure to raise Fafnir’s protective heckles further.

As much as Flavio found Fafnir’s protective instinct endearing, he did not need him prowling about with a critical glare. The guy needed to relax once in a while, too!

Frustrated and annoyed, Fafnir tugged at his tie. “When can I get out of this straight jacket?”

Mentally sighing with relief, Flavio immediately fidgeted with Fafnir’s tie, empathetically loosening it for him so he would not feel as though he was being choked. He did wonder where the others were, though. Perhaps at the entrees table, as they had planned. Where Fafnir slipped away when they were distracted to go in search of him.

“It’s just for tonight,” Flavio reassured. “Just grit your teeth and bare it for a few more hours.”

Fafnir suddenly snared Flavio by his wrist. “I know a way to make the hours go quicker.”

“What do-?”

Before Flavio could finish his question, Fafnir just smiled mischievously at him and with his hand still grasping his, suddenly pulled him in a seemingly random direction. Only, it was not random. He led him down a flight of marble steps and out into the beautiful and well-manicured gardens. Very few quests mingled out in the cool night air, but Fafnir continued to guide him along, through the dark shadows of the gardens.

It almost felt as if they were sneaking out somewhere they should not be. Hiding from someone.

It was…kinda exciting, he had to admit.

“Where are we going?” Flavio asked, allowing Fafnir to tug him along.

“There’s going to be fireworks tonight to celebrate,” Fafnir replied, pausing momentarily in his steps to inspect their new surroundings. “Soon, actually.”

Did Fafnir bring him all the way outside so that they could watch the fireworks together…alone?

They were far away from the party to be free from prying eyes, but still close enough to hear the music from the royal band being played inside.

A song, one meant to draw those onto the dance floor, soon resonated, reaching both of their ears. A part of Flavio felt relieved that Fafnir was not inside with the other guests, as he would no doubt be pressured into dancing with Princess Arianna.

The music, though, was…catchy.

Flavio felt a laugh pass his lips, true amusement and real contentment swelling inside of him as Fafnir pulled him into his arms. With one of Fafnir’s arms around his waist and the other grasping his hand, Flavio rested his free hand on Fafnir’s shoulder, and the two of them stumbled stupidly through a few dances.

“It’s lucky we’re not dancing in front of others.”

“Are you saying I’m bad at it?”

“No no, not at all. Just don’t step on my feet.”

“I should after that remark.”

Flavio laughed again as Fafnir led him through a turn and he felt himself relaxing further. “In all honesty, I’m glad this Week of Celebrations is over. I can finally breath again.”

Fafnir swept him back into his arms. “Having trouble?”

“No, nothing like what you’re probably thinking,” Flavio quickly reassured, knowing that Fafnir’s protective tendencies were brewing just below the surface. “Just extremely busy. I don’t mind working the front of bar, but it’s hard doing it all by myself.”

Tightening his arm around Flavio’s waist, Fafnir pulled him closer and uttered a small sigh. It was clear he wanted to complain about the last week. About him overworking himself. Possibly about the stupidity of how he was forced into a matchmaking scheme under the guise of doing errands.

But he held his tongue.

“Hopefully all your hard work will be worth something,” he said instead. “And we’re not working through Christmas. In fact, I’ll make sure we’re not. You, especially.”

Flavio rolled his eyes fondly and draped his arm lazily over Fafnir’s shoulders, their waltz transitioning to a slow, comforting dance. “This will be our first real Christmas. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Hm,” Fafnir murmured a sound of agreement, gently cradling Flavio’s hand against his chest.

They fell into a comfortable silence, the music of the party lulling them into a slow, intimate dance. Swaying back and forth to their own rhythm, unaware to the cold night air around them.

The sound of a high-pitched whistle followed by an explosion of bright light pulled them both from their reverie. They paused in their movements and turned to gaze upwards as more fireworks decorated the night sky in an array of beautiful colours.

With more fireworks shooting across the sky, Fafnir led Flavio over to a stone garden bench. They sat down and Fafnir slipped his arm around Flavio’s shoulder and he immediately leaned against him in return, resting his head on his shoulder. They turned their gazes skyward once more, watching the dazzling display in silence.

Flavio felt safe and comfortable.

He also felt as though someone was watching him. The prickly feeling on the back of his neck was undeniable.

He should ignore the feeling. He was within the grounds of the Grand Duchy, during a social event: the security should be intense, so it was unlikely to be anything insidious, right? But explorer instincts could not be switched off at will, so Flavio found himself lifting his head from Fafnir’s shoulder and looking behind him before he had the chance to reconsider.

There was, however, nothing there.

Nothing he could see.

“Something wrong?” Fafnir asked as he began to pull away, a slight frown on his lips.

“No, no,” Flavio immediately replied as he pressed himself against Fafnir’s side, preventing him from moving. “It’s nothing. Just another party goer roaming about, probably with the same idea as us.”

That reassured Fafnir, allowing him to relax back onto the bench and for him to curl his arm around Flavio’s back once more. Flavio snuggled against him, seeking both his warmth and presence, and rested his head on his shoulder once more.

He knew that the night, the moment could not last forever. They had to return to the others and the party inside soon. Back to reality. But, for the time being, Flavio was just going to focus on the present.

… … … … …

The carriage ride back to the inn was done in silence, everyone tired from the evening activities.

The dinner party had not been as bad as Flavio had anticipated. It did help that he and Fafnir spent the vast majority of it hidden out in the gardens, away from prying eyes and from the tedious and empty small talk that was sure to be thrust upon them.

Though the night air had been bitingly cold, it had not bothered Flavio. No where near as much as it usually would. How could it? He was with Fafnir. In his arms as they acted like the stupid young men they were, dancing to a waltz neither of them knew. To when Fafnir’s arm rested around his shoulders as they watched the magnificent fireworks display, sat together on a stone bench in a secluded corner of the well-manicured gardens.  

They both knew that they could not stay all night out there. They had to show their faces around the party. Shake some hands, smile falsely, kiss some butts if they had to.

When they had joined up with the others, they were immediately bombarded with questions of where they were and what they were doing. Of course, they both used the excuse that they gotten lost in the throngs of other party goers, but Flavio was almost a hundred percent certain if they were not believed.

The night moved tediously after that. But Flavio found himself constantly sharing looks with Fafnir. A gaze that promised another rendezvous in the garden if he started losing his patience once more. And the only person he wanted to join him was Flavio himself.

That eased Flavio’s anxieties, allowing him to relax. He actually enjoyed the night after that.

He was still eager to get back to the inn and call it a night.

The carriage soon pulled up to the entrance of the inn and the five of the wearily clambered their way out into the cold night air. It was impossibly still that night, a few hours after midnight, with only the lanterns burning brightly outside of the main doors of the inn illuminating their surroundings.

As they stepped into the foyer, they found it unexpectedly bustling with a few explorers and a couple of guards, whom of which were all speaking with Hana.

“Oh, I am so glad you dearies are back!”

Flavio knew that Hana would still be awake, either personally waiting up for them or fussing over other guests and explorers. But he did not expect the dedicated matron and inn-keeper to be so frantic and near breathless!

“Quickly, you need to get changed out of those clothes and get to your restaurant!” Hana began to fuss, all but shooing them up the stairs. “Hurry!”

“What’s wrong?” Fafnir immediately asked, his body tensing for possible danger.

“Your restaurant is on fire!”

Flavio’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach and he immediately shot a glance over to Fafnir, who in turn looked over at him, his eyes wide. They stood still in shock for a moment before they reacted, scrambling upstairs to get changed out of this formal wear into something else. Something far more useful when one needed to race through the streets to reach their burning restaurant!

Flavio fumbled with his keys before he burst into his room and slammed the door shut behind him. He quickly tore off his formal wear, throwing the clothing haphazardly onto the bed, and quickly changed into his explorer gear, the first thing he thought of.

Throwing on a winter coat, Flavio dashed out into the hallway. Just as the rest of his companions tumbled out of their own rooms. Few words were exchanged as they raced out of the inn and out into the icy streets. The path to the restaurant was one they had taken many times before. But never so early in the room, and never at such a hectic pace.

There were few people out on the streets. Late night revellers. But as they approached the business district, the crowds grew in density. And a strange noise accompanied them. As did an orange glow in the distance.

Drawing closer, Flavio hoped that there was some strange, terrifying misunderstanding. That some other building had caught one fire. A building that was empty, unused. There were a few, after all. Anything but their restaurant.

All hope was dashed when they rounded a corner and stood at a crossroads. Their restaurant, the one that sat on a corner. A prime spot. A place envied by others. Was on fire.

Aglow with bright orange flames. The crackling and snapping of the fire burning through the wood and furniture inside was deafening. The fire was raging, the rolling flames reaching out through the broken, blackened and chard windows, licking along the rooftop. Thick, menacing black smoke arose like intense thunderclouds, disappearing into the dark night sky.

It was well and truly on fire. There was little to nothing they could do. Nothing other than leave it to the guards and the volunteer alchemists using their ice skills to damper the flames.

The feeling of helplessness was…painful.

“Regina…?” Arianna whispered, breathless. Her eyes widened as she frantically looked around. “Wh-where is she? Where is Dame Regina?!”

Flavio and the others immediately tore their gazes from the roaring flames and toward the scattered crowd. Where was Regina? She could not still be inside!

“There she is!”

Arianna darted forward, where the firefighting cart stood. And there, sat on a nearby bench with a blanket around her shoulders and a man with brown hair and wearing a very telling white coat, stood by her side.

“Oh, Regina, I’m so glad you’re all right.” Arianna hastily perched on the edge of the bench next to her and threw her arms around Regina’s neck and shoulders. An embrace that was meant to comfort Regina while reassuring herself.

Flavio turned to the man he assumed was a medic or doctor. “How is she?”

The man pushed up his silver-rimmed glasses. “Smoke inhalation and mild burns to her hands and arms, unfortunately. We’ll need to take her to the hospital for overnight observation to prevent the possibility of shock.”

Flavio could not help but wince. Yet, from the man’s straightforwardness, he felt confident that Regina would be in safe hands while in the hospital.

“It started in the dining area,” Regina suddenly stated firmly, insistent. Almost desperately so. “It didn’t start in the kitchen. I didn’t start it. It started in the dining area. I tried to fight it, but it just spread too quickly.”

That was how she got burns to her hands and arms.

“Flavio!”

The familiar voice prompted Flavio turn around, just in time to watch as a certain redheaded protector push his way through the gaping crowd. “Hrothgar, over here!”

Hrothgar rushed over to him and Flavio reached out to him, allowing him to grabbed onto his arms, worry and concern evident in his expression. “Is everyone all right?”

“We’re fine,” Flavio immediately replied. “We weren’t here at the time.”

Hrothgar uttered an audible sigh and the tension in his shoulders dissipated. He kept a hold of Flavio’s arms and turned his gaze toward the restaurant, taking in the frightening sight of it violently ablaze.

“What happened?” he asked as he turned his attention back to him.

But Flavio shook his head. “We don’t know anything yet. Only that it started in the dining area.”

He could not help but wonder how a fire could have spread so quickly. Was there no one else in the dining area at the time? Had Regina closed for the night? How did the fire start exactly?

It…could not have been started by someone, could it?

“The guards and the Grand Duchy will, no doubt, conduct an investigation into this fire,” Hrothgar stated confidently. “Something like this doesn’t happen often, and due to certain connections, I’m sure they’ll want to get to the bottom of it quickly.”

Yeah. Flavio could only hope it truly was just an accident. Though, from the way some people were willing to gossip in front of a blazing fire, that explanation was likely to only fuel more conspiracy theories.

They just did not understand.

A hand being placed on his shoulder prompted Flavio to look over his shoulder, to where Fafnir stood.

“They’re taking Regina to the hospital,” he began to explain. “She insists that we return to the inn and get some sleep.”

Though exhausted and drained, Flavio believed sleep was not going to come easy.

“I’ll stay here and see if I can gleam anymore information from the guards,” Hrothgar offered.

Flavio gave him a small smile. “We appreciate it.”

There truly was nothing more they could do. They had no firefighting experience. Nothing they could offer. No experience, inside or outside the labyrinths could aid the firefighters in their duties. They would only get in the way.

So, with their hearts heavy, they returned to the inn in silence.

As he stepped back into his room at the inn, Flavio ran a hand through his hair, tugging the strands from his hair tie roughly. What. A. Day. First, some weirdo was caught peering in at him through the window in the tearoom. Then he had an encounter with Mandelson at the birthday celebration. And now the restaurant burning down!

His only bright spot was being able to spend some alone time with Fafnir. That was his one and only time he actually enjoyed himself.

They say that life had its ups and downs, but they never said it happened in such quick succession!

With a sigh, Flavio shrugged off his coat. Only to pause when his gaze fell on something small and white lying on the floor.

A white envelope. It sat in the middle of the floor. Was it there before? It might have been as he had been in such a frantic rush to get in and out. But…did he lock the door when he barged out? He could not remember.

A chill raced down his spine as he froze, his eyes darting around the room in a desperate attempt to pinpoint anything out of place. His formal wear laid sprawled out across his bed. His desk was in his usual organised chaos. The door to his private bathroom was slightly ajar. The window was closed and the curtains drawn.

But…how did the envelope reach the centre of his room?

With his heart thundering in his chest, Flavio slowly, cautiously approached the door to his bathroom. He did not, for the life of him, remember if he left it ajar or not. Maybe he did? No, he usually left it closed. But that was before bed. He might have ducked in there before leaving for the party.

Steeling himself, Flavio raised his hand and brushed his fingertips against the door handle, swallowing thickly when his mind registered that it was cold to the touch. He pressed forward, wrapping his hand around it and counted to three in his head.

1…2…3!

He threw open the door.

And inside…

Nothing. The room was empty. The shower curtain was drawn back, as he had left it, revealing an empty bathtub. No one was hiding there. And no one was hiding behind the door.

There was no one there.

Flavio breathed an audible sigh of relief and leaned heavily against the door. He did not need that scare. Definitely something he could have done without. He closed the door of the bathroom behind him, making the mental note of doing so to ensure that he would not go through such an unnecessary scare again.

He still instinctively shot a glance over at his bed, but he knew that the gap between the bedframe and the floor was far too narrow. No one, unless they were six-inches thick, could get under there to hide.

All that was left to deal with was that envelope.

He first ensured the door to his room was locked before he crouched down and picked up the seemingly innoxious letter. There was nothing written on the front or the back. But it was not a letter meant to be mailed, as there had been no attempt to seal the letter.

Yet, inside was not a letter. It was a folded piece of cardboard. Like those he had received with the flowers.

“I did it for you. Now the restaurant can’t hurt you anymore.”

Flavio dropped the card as though it had physically hurt him and backed up until he collided with the door that led out into the hallway. He slid down it and sat haphazardly on the floor. Tears welled in his eyes as he stared unblinkingly into the space before him, not looking at anything in particular.

He could barely breath.

The restaurant was purposely targeted. Purposely burnt down. Someone had actually gone to the extreme length to target it. Uncaring of who was inside.

And it was his fault. The burning down of the restaurant was because of him. He was the reason it was targeted by an arsonist.

No…

He…could never, ever tell anyone about his situation. He couldn’t. They would blame him, too. Wouldn’t they?

N-no, what was he thinking? If he told them everything, they would not blame him, would they? They would understand that he would never, ever wish for such a thing. He could never!

But why would they do such a thing? Why?

Had Flavio done something? He must have done something. Did he somehow give the indication that he was…interested? Allowed an opening for a courtship? H-he could not have. He would not have.

Flavio clutched his head as he tried to think. But he couldn’t. He had only ever been cordial with others. Friendly. Pleasant. And others were the same with him. Never had anyone ever showed…interest in him. Not that he had noticed.

No, it was so stupid! Never had he encountered anyone who gave him the indication that they would burn down a building for him. How could he have possibly known someone would do that? He most certainly never even joked about something like that, even in the midst of his exhaustion!

What…should he do?

He…had to tell Fafnir. It was too much. He could not keep it a secret. If his stalker was willing to set a building on fire, what else were they willing to do? Who were they willing to hurt?

But…not at the moment. It was too late at night. Too early in the morning, rather. He would tell him at some point. After he…collected himself.

He would…sleep on it.

Rather, stare up at the ceiling and replay the events in his head over and over again until he either passed out. Or it was time for breakfast.

Whatever came first.

[theshatteredrose]

[theshatteredrose]

Your vibe is oddly bitter and reeks of insecurity

sounds like someone needs to go in the water

[theshatteredrose]

How do you get these wonderful stories out of your head? When I play RPGs like Disgaea and Eterian Odyssey, I have stories I wanna write but when I turn the game off they're gone! Do you have any wisdom on how to weave daydreams into reality?

Oooh boy~ Ok, let’s see…

The first thing, the absolute first thing you must do when you get an idea for a story is to write it down. I cannot stress this enough. Please, write it down somewhere. Do not fall into the trap of “I’ll remember this, I won’t need to write it down.” We authors always fall into this trap. You will forget. We always forget.

Write it down in a notepad. Write it down somewhere on your phone. Write it down in an email or text. Write your ideas, big and small, down somewhere.

Start that habit first. Keep the ideas brief and to the point. Write them as a synopsis. Write them as a summary.

Alright. So, you have all these ideas. Now what? Taking the next step can seem daunting. So, let’s keep it simple. Look over your ideas. Any that catch your immediate attention? Any that seem fun or exciting to do? Let’s start with that one.

Take the idea that you like. And then expand on it. Add characters. Add a setting. Who is the protagonist? What are their motives? What drives them? What is the plot of the story? What is driving the plot forward? What is the goal? Who or what is the Antagonist? What are their motives and motivations?

Don’t get bogged down with the details. Keep things simple and to the point. We’re still in the planning stages.

Next, it’s time to figure out the timeline of events. How does the story begin? What are the objectives that the Main Characters need to reach throughout the story? What are the key plot scenes you want the story to entail? What is the end goal? What would you like the ending to be? Again, keep things simple and to the point. This is what happens and then this is what happens next. We’re still in the planning stages.

Please note that your story has the possibility to change during these planning stages. What you had in mind at the beginning can change. And that’s perfectly fine. It’s about the flow. Sometimes your story and characters will lead you in a new direction. One you hadn’t considered before. Happened with me more times than I can count. And it’s always for the better.

Ok, so you have your story figured out. Now comes the next big hurdle – writing details.

This step is where a lot of people fall short. Writing fleshed out characters, writing them in scenes, writing dialogue, writing their thoughts and actions. It can feel overwhelming. So, let’s just take it slowly. The first draft is always abysmal. No one ever, ever finishes a pristine novel on their first draft. If they claim otherwise, they’re lying. The first draft is just getting a feel of the story and of the characters. Does this scene fit here? Does this event help or hinder the story? Do I need to explain more of the lore?

The first draft is never, ever perfect, so go into it with this mindset. Fumble your way through it. Add dialogue here. Add a fight scene there. Oh, this scene needs a new character? Well, in you go!

And you don’t have to start from the beginning. Start working on a scene from the middle of the story. Start working on that exciting battle scene. Start working on that amazing plot twist that no one saw coming. I wrote one of my stories by first working on that final battle scene and then worked around it. You don’t have to work from the beginning.

There is one other thing you must do in order to get your story done. You must write. You must work on it every day. It can be for five minutes. It can be for only a hundred words. But you must find the time in your day to work on your project. Little by little, a sentence here and a sentence there, your project will get done.

We writers a such fickle little creatures. We can get disheartened easily or get distracted with other shiny new projects. So, remember, each day you choose to write, no matter the form, be it a new idea or the working of a new project, is a day you should be proud of yourself.

Everything I’ve written above is my personal method of writing. It’s not perfect and it may not be for everyone. It’s merely advice I offer from the heart, guidance to help you find your own way as a writer. To find your own method. Seek guidance from others, but ultimately find a path that is suited for your own needs and interests. Test the waters and experiment, fumble your way through exploration and soon your will find your own rhythm.

I hope I was able to answer your question ^^

[theshatteredrose]

I forgot to mention that four days ago, Wattpad messaged me stating that they had removed a story of mine due to a violation of their policies and/or guidelines. Yet, they didn't mention what was violated and when I sent a message back for an explanation and a document of the exact same story they removed, I haven't heard back from them.

It was just a oneshot, one that had been on the site for ten years or so. So, it took them some time to figure it out. Or someone else reported it? I don't know. I still haven't heard anything.

Wattpad is so useless.

[theshatteredrose]

Daylight savings ended last night, so we regained the hour we lost.

So, naturally, I spelt through it and woke up way late, so I didn't regain shit :'D

[theshatteredrose]

Well, I'm back. Been away a couple of days for my auntie's funeral. Went as well as it expected, I suppose. It did reenforce my distain for a few of my cousins, though, lol.

My dad is on the mend and my other aunty seems to be doing well, too. Thank goodness.

I guess nothing left for me to do but to get back to routine, I suppose.

[theshatteredrose]

No update today, I'm afraid. My father has been in hospital and aunt has passed away in palliative care yesterday, so I'm not in the best state right now. My father, thankfully, should be leaving hospital today. I just have to face the funeral next. We'll see how that goes.