#coqueline

[wanderingeffigy]

Some faces from around the Krosmoz

[kima-catt]

day 3 - Coqueline

[geekgirles]

The Doll and the Dragon

Chapter 18: Falling Down the Hourglass

Word count: 26,473

Read on AO3

Previous/Next

Chapter summary: "While Yugo and his siblings find clues that might lead them to Amalia and Efrim's whereabouts, the latter come face to face with the people behind their abduction in the first place; the Brotherhood of the Forgotten, led by the enigmatic Lady Echo. What is it this mysterious group is truly after? And why they did have to thrust Amalia into their tangled web of schemes in the first place? But, most importantly, will Sadida's youngest be able to survive this experience with her resolve and convicitons unshaken?"

Any other day, Yugo would have marvelled at the looming and spiralling architecture surrounding them as they made their way through the busy streets of Bonta. Even from a distance, the sight of the so-called City of the Gods was stunning enough to steal their breath away anew when they crossed the ocean. A small part of Yugo couldn’t help but be reminded of their capital city back home.

With its many towering bridges and imposing arches surrounding and traversing its confines, connecting one end of Bonta to the other. The greenery bordering the city and spreading all the way back to the Sadida Kingdom gave way to polished stone and crimson brick. The same blue banner proudly displaying the nation’s emblem he remembered seeing at the royal palace hung from any building that hinted at having a great importance for the Bontarians, like the Gobbowl stadium where Yugo and Amalia witnessed their first ever match and fell hopelessly in love with the sport. 

He picked up his pace to a brisk march, gritting his teeth and fighting back the sting in his eyes. 

Yes, any other day, Yugo would have let himself be swayed by how grand Bonta was and how much it reminded him of home. 

He would look on fondly as the City of the Gods lived up to its reputation of being one of the cosmopolitan cores of the World of Twelve, with Bontarians of all discernible races filling up the streets as they mingled and went on about their day. He would have taken a moment to ponder how different it was from the Sadida Kingdom, where the only non-Sadida people were their Eliatrope guests (and some unseen Cra, too, apparently). He would have had a very good feeling the same could be said for the other nations comprising this world.

But today wasn’t any other day. 

Today an overwhelming feeling of loss, grief, desperation, and determination permeated through his bones, fueling his every step. The sounds of the bustling city faded away into white noise, in contrast to the tortured thoughts running through his mind that set the backdrop for his mood. Today, he was a man on a mission: 

To do everything in his power to get Amalia back. 

“At risk of being rebuffed yet again, I’ll ask you once more.” Adamaï began from his not-so-comfortable position, perched on his brother’s shoulder. “Are you sure about this?”

Yugo barely spared him a quick glance. “It’s our best bet.”

Adamaï shot him an unimpressed look, slumping forwards best he could in his tiny body. He rolled his eyes. “You’re starting to sound like an Ecaflip.” 

“I agree with Bird Brain over here. How are you so sure we can go to Master Joris for help? How do we know for certain he can be trusted?” Nora spoke up from his right. As usual when they were outside of Oma, her mask covered her lower face. 

What was rather unusual, on the other hand, was seeing his sister out of her usual attire consisting of her bright pink bodysuit and matching cloak. Much like himself, she had foregone her typical clothing for something a little more inconspicuous. 

Since Shukrute would freeze over before his sister stopped wearing pink—ironic for somebody as tomboyish as her—, she’d replaced her form-fitting bodysuit for a soft pink blouse with peasant sleeves that hid her wakfu tattoos underneath. Where she got that from with so little time to prepare was beyond him, but Yugo could hazard a guess and say the skin-tight black leather pants and knee-high boots she wore had been ransacked from Evangelyne’s closet. With or without her permission.

All in all, Yugo had to admit, Nora looked every bit the Twelvian young lady, even if she still had to conceal her wings underneath a dark cloak with an ample hood. Even though Eliatrope fashion had no shortage of garments meant to hide their extra appendages, it still had the disadvantage of featuring two wabbit-like pouches to accommodate their wings more comfortably. 

As suffocating as regular hoods were, that little detail risked giving them away. 

Quite frankly, Nora looked ridiculous—and more than a bit suspicious, like a fashionable Rogue waiting to strike—with the oversized garment covering half her face while a handkerchief tied around her mouth concealed the lower half. And yet, Yugo had to admit she was still probably doing a far better job at blending in than he was. 

In his haste to set off for Bonta, Yugo could barely focus long enough to listen to Mina’s wise warnings about revealing their identity. Their people still had a long way to go before being accepted by the Twelvians, let alone walking freely through their streets without causing widespread panic. Therefore, it was imperative they disguised themselves in order to appear as native as possible. 

Deep down, Yugo knew his sister was right. 

Of course, Mina was always right! 

But when it was finally time to leave for Bonta, he couldn’t be bothered to care. He grabbed the first few things that would help conceal his identity and threw himself headfirst into the first portal of the long chain he would have to summon in order to make it to his destination, vaguely registering Adamaï and Nora’s cries to wait for them. 

So while Nora wore an overall tasteful and unremarkable outfit with just a splash of colour, Yugo was a walking splash of colour. Underneath his dark turquoise hooded poncho was a sleeveless orange tunic and wide-legged jeans, all held in place by a rope-like belt. Not unlike when he visited Amakna, he was left with no choice but to wrap dark bandages around his arms and feet to cover his own markings. 

Technically speaking, he was still protecting his identity, but it didn’t change the fact that he still stood out like a sore thumb. 

All things considered, the best disguise was Adamaï’s, thanks to his inherent aptitude for shapeshifting befitting a dragon. His usual form was out of the question, given it made his true nature quite obvious. The Emerald dragon had a more humanoid form still, but the undeathly parlour of his ivory skin and bright blue lips and eyelids would still give him away as unordinary. 

And so, Yugo’s mighty dragon twin was currently disguised as a cute, little Tofu. His natural colouring was still a bit odd for the species, but it was easier to explain a white and blue Tofu than a reptilian human. 

Honestly, Yugo didn’t understand why they insisted on accompanying him if they were so sure this was a bad idea. 

“‘If we can trust him’? Are you hearing yourself, Nora? You’re starting to sound like Efrim.” Yugo hissed, not expecting such a level of distrust coming from his little sister. He immediately regretted his words and cursed himself when he saw the flicker of hurt crossing Nora’s features before she hurriedly looked away. 

“Low blow, Brother.”

The Eliatrope King narrowed his eyes in on Ad, causing him to avert his gaze in embarrassment, before turning back to their sister. “Look, Nora, I’m sorry, I—.”

“Somebody has to remain focused if we hope to have any luck finding them.” Nora snapped, her tone as cold as the deepest confines of the Krosmoz, though there was no mistaking the fire in her pink eyes. Not waiting for a reply, she marched forward, bumping shoulders with a woman carrying groceries and not even stopping to apologise. “Now, why do you think going to Master Joris is our best bet, again?”

“Because he is. We still don’t know much about this world, its history, or even its political leanings—.”

“Other than the fact that they don’t really like us.” Adamaï supplied. 

“—Objectively speaking, we have no clue about who could be behind Amalia and Efrim’s disappearance, or why.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Nora interrupted hotly, whirling around to shoot her brothers an incredulous look. Every now and then, a Bontarian would stop what they were doing to gawk at the two strangers and their pet Tofu as they seemed to be in the middle of some sort of heated silent conversation. 

“Surely, someone’s trying to spark a conflict by turning the world leaders against us if they catch wind of Amalia’s disappearance! They’ll blame us and think we did something to her; the perfect excuse to start a war if you ask me—using a scapegoat.”

“Why would they take Efrim too, then?” Adamaï was quick to point out, trying to calm her down best he could. The last thing they needed was to bring any more attention to themselves. “If they truly wanted for the Twelvians to declare us their enemies once and for all, then I fail to see why they’d kidnap one of our own as well. That would only get us to fight back, which is the last thing this world wants.”

“I don’t know! Maybe they want us to fight each other to the death, or something…” She said, crossing her arms stubbornly. Although the almost petulant tone of her voice made it clear she wasn’t so sure herself. 

“Which is precisely why we need Master Joris’ expertise on this.” Yugo reminded them sternly. He walked up to Nora, grabbed her gently by the elbow and began to guide her through the less crowded alleyways, waving sheepishly at the irritated passersby glaring at them. “He is one of the most long-lived creatures in this world, a very worldly individual whose closest companions are two Ecaflip demigods who’ve also lived their fair share of adventures over the years. If anyone knows this world’s history and who could benefit from abducting a Divine Doll and an Eliatrope dragon, it’s probably him.”

Nora didn’t say anything at first, just stared back intently at him with those rosy irises of hers. At last, she scoffed with a roll of her eyes and yanked her arm away from her king’s hold roughly. Adjusting her slightly dishevelled cloak in one quick, impatient movement, she marched on ahead, putting some distance between herself and her dumbstruck brothers. 

Yugo and Adamaï didn’t know what she kept muttering to herself, but they were sure it shouldn’t be said in polite company . 

The Emerald Twins could only watch her retreating back with sad eyes. With a quick exchange and a deep sigh, Yugo jogged up after her while Adamaï fluttered his little wings, trying to catch up.

Adamaï sighed audibly through his beak. “I’m starting to think she’s in no condition to see Master Joris.”

“Yeah, try telling her that.” Yugo scoffed. He could have slid up next to his sister again in just a few strides, but he chose to give her some space to cool off for now and remained a few steps behind her. “In case you forgot, she almost bit our heads off when we told her she couldn’t come with us.”

“I’m just… worried about her, that’s all. This isn’t like her.”

“Has any one of us ever been the same ever since the war?” Yugo asked, although he didn’t expect an answer. 

His eyes gleaned sadly as he watched his little sister stomping forward. 

Maybe it wasn’t that Nora was acting differently now. Maybe she hadn’t been like herself in a really long time and it was only after Efrim was taken that she allowed for those parts of herself to resurface. 

Adamaï fluttering around him, trying to keep up, Yugo watched on as his people’s Joybringer walked resolutely right in front of them, her cape swishing with every determined step she took. Her shoulders squared up and her fists clenched at her sides. He hadn’t seen her like this since those harrowing days out in the battlefield, where a single second of distraction could cost someone their life. He had hoped he’d never have to see her like that ever again. 

He was starting to think Nora also did everything in her power to ensure she’d never have to act like that again. But Efrim’s disappearance forced her to stop caring anymore. 

As embarrassing as it was, it had taken him longer than he cared to admit to gain enough clarity to come up with a plan. For hours, all Yugo could do was despair over the fact that Amalia was gone, clutching her pendant like a lifeline, going through everything that had gone wrong, how he should have never let Evangelyne leave her side, and how he was supposed to look after her! 

She needed him and he wasn’t there for her, for Eliatrope’s sake!

It took Adamaï roughly grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him slightly while he screamed at him to pull himself together to get Yugo to snap out of his self-deprecating spiral. 

Even then, he only managed to truly pull himself together enough to be even remotely functional after hearing his siblings argue about what they were going to do because the worst thing that could have happened had actually happened! The World of Twelve would have their heads if any harm befell one of Sadida’s Divine Dolls, and they would be forced to flee to protect their people—and potentially doom their subjects to Eliatrope knows how many more years of uncertainty, and hopelessness, and uprooting.

His heart beat at an erratic rhythm, threatening to send him over cardiac arrest, but he managed. Somehow, he managed. 

By some sort of miracle, his voice wasn’t as frail as he felt and commanded the respect needed to shepherd the Council back into the palace to form a plan. For two days—two agonising days where Yugo had to muster every single iota of self-control he possessed not to despair over whatever fate had befallen the love of his life and his little brother—the now incomplete Council of Six locked themselves up in the Council Room to discuss the best course of action. 

They had to find Efrim and Amalia, and bring them back as soon as possible. That much was clear. The Twelvians could never know the only reason why they barely tolerated their presence was gone. Worse still, she had been taken right under their noses. 

It wasn’t until, in the midst of yet another heated debate, Glip derisively mentioned the daunting possibility of that ‘forsaken little man from Bonta appearing out of thin air as he was wont to do and catching them red-handed’ that the solution presented itself before Yugo. 

(He stubbornly ignored Adamaï staring back at him like he’d grown a second head the moment the idea crossed his mind).

Needless to say, his plan was met with scepticism. Even Mina and Phaeris seemed reluctant to agree, but Yugo managed to convince them in the end. If they hoped to have any luck finding them, they needed to recruit Master Joris’ help. 

At first, only Yugo and Adamaï intended to travel back to Bonta to ask for the ambassador’s help, as the Eliatrope King knew him best by virtue of their interactions back at the banquet (that felt like a lifetime ago), and because his dragon twin refused to stay behind, knowing he was in no state to be left to his own devices. Deep down, Yugo was grateful for his foresight. But then, right as they were about to make the required preparations to leave, Nora spoke up, declaring in no uncertain terms that she was going too. 

They tried to argue against her. Eliatrope knows they tried. Arguing that they couldn’t afford to let anyone notice the Eliatrope King and his dragon twin were walking around the Bontarian streets. Adding a pink clad, pink-eyed Council member would be far too risky. 

But Nora was never one to back down from a fight, especially not one she believed to have already won. She shot all their arguments down with one simple reminder:

Efrim, her twin, the one person she was closest to than anybody else in the entire Krosmoz, had been taken too. And there’d be Shukrute to pay if anyone dared stand in her way to get him back. 

Yugo still remembered how his breath hitched when she pierced him with those blazing rosy eyes of hers. For a moment, they were back home, a bloody Nora standing on shaky legs but refusing to back down as she slashed away at a Mechasm threatening a widower holding his baby close and weeping over his late wife’s corpse with her wakfu whips, a raging inferno surrounding them. 

When Adamaï tried to refute her once more, he simply placed a hand on his forearm, his touch featherlight, and shook his head in defeat. That was their Nora, too stubborn for her own good—when she got an idea into her head, there was no changing her mind.

So, with some very stern reminders to not draw any attention to herself and to always stick close to them, the three of them finally set off to the City of the Gods in search of the centenarian little man. Their last hope to rescue Efrim and Amalia. 

“I’ve been wondering for a while, but how come we’re not turning to the Sadida for help?” Adamaï inquired all of a sudden, shooting Yugo a curious look. “If there’s anyone who we know would stop at nothing to get Amalia back, it’s them.”

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Yugo sighed heavily, his energy deflating with every passing second. 

“Despite everything, Nora is right about one thing—this world’s leaders are too volatile. There’s no doubt in my mind more than one nation is itching for a fight. They will use whatever excuse available to wage war on us and kick us out from their planet.”

Adamaï fluttered nearby, waiting patiently for his brother to finish his train of thought. 

“The Sadida Kingdom is the first territory that seems to be genuine in their desire to form an alliance with us.” He pursed his lips, his features growing stern, and he turned to look at the Tofu by his side. His expression denoted nothing but seriousness. “An alliance that is tentative at best, Ad. What would happen if they found out about Amalia’s kidnapping? 

“Indeed, they’re the most likely to go up in arms to get her back, but that also means they’re the most likely to turn against us if anything happens to her. I know asking Master Joris for help is risky, but honestly? What other choice do we have?”

The dragon frowned deeply, looking away. As much as it pained him, there was no refuting that. Besides…

“Their crown prince is also married to a princess from another land,” Adamaï reasoned, almost as if thinking aloud. “Even if they agreed to help us and keep Amalia’s disappearance a secret, she could always go behind their backs and alert the Osamodas Kingdom.”

Yugo felt like crawling into a hole and dying. That possibility hadn’t even crossed his mind, but now he could see it all so clearly, he might as well have been a prophet like Chibi. 

“Hey! Are you guys coming or what?!” Both of them looked up in surprise at the sound of Nora calling out for them. They were so used to talking telepathically, it took them a moment to realise she’d actually raised her voice. 

A hand cupped to the side of her mouth, she kept waving the other one around in the air to catch their attention from the other side of the road. Wait, how did she get there so fast?

“Well? What are you waiting for!?” She snapped impatiently, causing her companions to pick up the pace. They almost got run over by a vegetable cart, but that was still preferable than dealing with Nora when she was irritable. 

As the two caught their breath, their sister looked them up and down disparagingly, hands on her hips. She rolled her eyes and let out an annoyed huff. “So?”

Hands still on his knees, Yugo shot her a confused look. “So?” He panted. 

“Where’s Master Joris’ house?!” She demanded, pink eyes blazing. “We’ve been wandering the city for hours! I don’t know about you, but I didn’t come here to sightsee.”

“Nora, calm down.” Adamaï chided her, beginning to lose patience with her. Since he was still disguised as a Tofu, he couldn’t afford to open his beak to speak. 

“Don’t tell me to calm down when Efrim is missing!”

“Shhh!” Panicking, Yugo grabbed her by the forearm and dragged her aside, his eyes darting back and forth in case anyone had overheard the very loud girl shouting over a missing person. 

“Nora, do you want us to get caught?!” He whisper-shouted. 

“Do you want him to get hurt, or worse, because we didn’t make it on time to save him?” She shot back, leveling her king with a glare so full of fury it made him flinch and take a step back. 

“Nora…”

”Okay, that’s enough!” Adamaï declared sternly, getting in between them. He didn’t let the fact that he wasn’t as intimidating without his draconic form deter him. 

It certainly didn’t matter when he turned to his pink-eyed sister with a look that could curdle milk. 

“Nora, I understand you’re stressed, we all are! There’s so much riding on us finding Efrim, and I completely understand you just want him back. We all do; he’s our brother too, for crying aloud!”

“He’s my dragon twin.” 

“I know, and I understand how you feel.” The Tofu insisted. “Eliatrope above, if Yugo disappeared, I’d be screaming bloody murder too!”

The Eliatrope girl opened her mouth to argue when her older brother’s next words completely disarmed her. 

“But don’t forget you’re not the only one who’s suffering. It’s not just that we’re worried about Efrim—Amalia was taken too, remember? Now, forget about all the impending political drama for a second. Amalia—is—missing—too. Aren’t you worried about her? Don’t you think we’re all worried sick about them both?”

His expression went from harsh to grim, his dark eyes shining in sympathy. With a sigh, he flew close enough to whisper in her ear, “How do you think Yugo is feeling right now?” 

For a moment, Nora was speechless, too stunned by Ad’s words to say anything back. But then, she chanced a glance over at Yugo and, for the first time since Efrim and Amalia went missing, she noticed the exhaustion and desperation hanging off of him. Heartbreak and sleep deprivation were written all over his face, his sunken eyes and sucked in cheeks making his features look gaunt. His usually messy dirty blond hair was completely dishevelled, as if it was in a permanent state of bed hair—yet another statement of how little he’d been sleeping lately. 

He was a wreck. 

And all she did was make things more difficult for him…

She hung her head in shame, her hands fidgeting nervously with the hems of her cape as her pink irises brimmed with unshed tears. “I’m sorry…”

For the first time since they embarked on their journey, Yugo smiled. It was a small, fragile thing, but it was real. He took a step forward and brought his little sister into a hug, one she returned fiercely and desperately. 

“Easy there, you might just break one of my ribs.”

“Shut up, you big baby.”

Her big brothers chose to pretend like they didn’t hear her sniffles or notice the wetness on Yugo’s clothes. 

After a while, Yugo broke the hug and raised Nora’s face by the chin with one finger. He wanted her to look at him. “I know this is tough Nora; I’m worried too. But we can’t let ourselves be swayed by our emotions now. They need us, okay?”

“Okay”. She nodded, wiping a stray tear off her face with her thumb. 

“Now, that’s better.” Adamaï nodded approvingly. He turned to his twin. “So, where to, Yugo?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Where is Master Joris’ house?” He looked at him with the same level of alarm as if his wings were showing. “That’s where we’re going, right? We’ve been wandering Bonta all day!”

“Oh. I have no idea where his house is.”

“What?” His siblings asked flatly, then…

“How can you not know!?”

“We’ve been following you around all day because we thought you knew what you were doing!”

Yugo flinched, instinctively putting his palms up in surrender. “How am I supposed to know?! It’s not like he drew me a map or anything when we talked at the banquet!”

“Unbelievable…” Adamaï grumbled, perching himself on Nora’s shoulders and using a wing to rub at his diminute temple. 

Groaning in despair, Nora was about to throw her head into her hands when something caught her eye. Perking up, she pointed to her right, on the side of the street. “Why don’t we just ask that man?”

“Huh?” Following the direction of her finger, the twins’ eyes widened at the sight of what looked like a homeless old Enutrof sitting against a wall on the opposite street, nodding off. 

They both pulled a face, suspicion coming off in waves from them. From what Ruel often said about his people, chances were, he was just pretending to be kamaless to scam some money out of poor, unsuspecting chumps.

“You want to ask for directions?” Adamaï asked, incredulous. 

“What makes you think he even knows where Master Joris’ house is?” Yugo added. 

Nora just shrugged. “Well, he is Bonta’s ambassador and a legendary hero in his own right, isn’t he? I just figured the Bontarians would know a thing or two about a local celebrity.”

“Are you sure?”

“Only one way to find out, I guess.”

It was a little bit comical to see the old possibly-not-really-a-vagabond get startled by the sight of someone willingly approaching him, especially his disarmed face at Nora’s wide grin. He recovered quickly, though. He tightened his grip on his shovel and pulled his tattered clothes closer to himself. 

“Can I help you?” Came his gruff voice from underneath his ashen, shaggy mustache. 

If possible, the incognito Eliatrope’s smile broadened. 

“Yes, actually. We were looking for Master Joris’ house, and we got lost. Would you happen to know where it is, Mister?”

The Enutrof frowned, raising a hand to scratch the back of his bald head in confusion. “You’re looking for Joris Jurgen?”

“Uh, yes?” 

The three of them exchanged bewildered glances. Honestly, they had no idea who that was. It wasn’t like the emissary’s surname ever came up in conversation whenever he showed up in their throne room unannounced. 

With a huff, the man burrowed himself deeper into his clothes, as though he could somehow make leaning against a brick wall more comfortable. He pointed down at the metal plate in front of him meaningfully. 

They all got the memo instantly, and promptly paled. 

“Great work, Nora.” Adamaï grumbled sarcastically. “Did you learn nothing when we met the world leaders? Enutrofs do nothing for free, and we don’t have kamas!”

“I could say the same thing about you.” She shot back, doing her best to repress the strong urge to glare at her brother-turned-Tofu. “If you knew he wouldn’t help us out of the goodness of his heart, why didn’t you say anything!?”

“You didn’t give me a chance to!”

“We don’t have money with us at the moment, sir.” Yugo spoke up, desperate for some answers (not wanting to deal with Ad and Nora’s impending argument was a big motivator as well). He began to sweat when the old man shot him a disdainful look at the mention of their financial state. “But I think we can come to an agreement nonetheless.” He added quickly. 

The Enutrof narrowed his eyes, sceptical. “What kind of agreement?”

Yugo beamed. “We happen to be friends with the owner of the best restaurant in all of Amakna. If you tell us what we want to know, he’ll serve you a meal for free. How’s that sound?”

The three of them could only fidget in place in anticipation as the man seemed to ponder their offer. After what felt like an eternity, the strained, nervous smiles on their faces grew into full-on beams when he finally grumbled:

“Look for the antique store with the giant eye on the façace.”

Their grins frozen in place, all three visitors could do was blink in astonishment. 

What the actual…?

..........................................................................................................................

The bewilderment didn’t leave their faces even as they stared back at their destination. 

Huh, it really did have an eye on its façade. 

Despite the curtness of their reluctant guide’s answer, finding Master Joris’ house had been a walk through portal once they had a general description of the place. It was as if Bonta’s busy streets had parted for them to lead them to their destination. As though summoned simply by the mention of the emissary’s address. 

And now, here they were. Just outside of Master Joris’ home, about to ask him for help on an extremely delicate matter that might as well send them all to war with the Twelvians. 

No pressure at all. 

“It’s… not what I had in mind.” Nora mumbled, grimacing. 

“What did you possibly imagine when he said ‘antique shop with an eye on the façade’?”

“I don’t know, but it sure as Shukrute wasn’t this.”

Yugo couldn’t really blame Nora, to be honest. If they were truly in front of Master Joris’ house, then it was certainly… unique, to say the least. A strange blend between otherworldly and perfectly mundane. 

Staring back at them was a several storey building of uneven structure. Its ground floor housed the famed antique store, visible through the red-framed window display, as well as the wooden porch they were currently standing on. From then, it widened into a second floor of irregular height painted white and with a green tiled roof. But the most unusual thing of all had to be the tower-like room that seemed to stand tall and proud from amongst the rest of the building, painted in the same white, green, and red hues as the rest of the house. 

Oh, and right above the window, there was a bulging red eye. 

Now, as an Eliatrope, Yugo wasn’t sure how popular cyclops houses were in Bonta, but he was willing to bet against any Ecaflip that this was Master Joris’ home. 

Which was now quite literally staring back at them when the entrance opened yet another bulging eye to stare expectantly back at them. “Can I help you?”

There were no words to describe the unholy sound that left all three of their throats when the house—the freaking house—spoke up, the Eliatropes’ wings standing on end and Adamaï’s feathers ruffled. While Yugo almost fell over the railing from shock, Adamaï forgot to fly for a few seconds, and Nora turned an undeathly parlour, paler still than her usual fair skin.

The house just blinked. “...I’ll do us all a favour and pretend I didn’t see that.”

“Th-thank you, um…?” Yugo asked uneasily, ignoring the flabbergasted looks his siblings were sending his way. 

“Luis.” It—he?— replied curtly. “What’s the matter, never seen a Shushu before?”

“You’re a Shushu?!” Nora exclaimed. Wait, now that he mentioned it, his eyes were remarkably similar to Sir Percedal’s sword…

“So you do know what a Shushu is, then.” 

“Sorry, um, Luis.” Yugo rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s just our first time seeing one as, uh, big as you.”

He knew Shushu tended to possess objects, but really? An entire house?! And Master Joris willingly lived here? Was he Luis’ guardian?

But he wasn’t an Iop… 

Probably.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, boy.” The house deadpanned. “Now, what do you want?”

At the reminder, Yugo and his siblings visibly straightened up. “We’re here because we’d like to discuss some important matters with Master Joris.”

A shiver ran down the king’s spine when Luis narrowed his only eye on them. “What kind of matters?”

“Come on, you can’t possibly expect us to just reveal sensitive information in the middle of the street.” Nora protested irately, her patience waning. Efrim and Amalia were counting on them and a glorified house was trying to get in the way. What was this, Twelvian bureaucracy?

“Nora…” Adamaï warned.

“My sister is right. We need to talk to Master Joris, it’s urgent.”

The Shushu’s eye moved back and forth between all three of them, appraising them for a beat until…

“Nope. I’m not letting you in, sorry.”

“What?!” The Eliatropes exclaimed in unison, although their dragon brother was thinking the exact same thing. 

“Nothing personal, folks. I’m just not the kind of Shushu who risks his master’s safety by letting a bunch of weirdos into his house.” Yugo had the feeling that if Luis had shoulders, he would have most likely shrugged nonchalantly. 

“B-but, but—! It’s an emergency!” Nora spluttered, eyes wide at having been denied. 

You’d think she’d get used to this after months of being treated like a pariah, she couldn’t help but think to herself, but apparently, she still had some pride left. 

“Then call for an Eniripsa to help. What do you want me to tell you?”

If he had any, Luis would have raised an eyebrow in curiosity when the pink lass seemed to blush at the mention of the healer race. Instead, he rolled his eye when it looked like she was about to go on yet another tirade. 

“I-it’s not that kind of emergency! We really must see your master at once!”

The house sent her a sidelong look. “Do you have any idea how many people have tried that before?” Then, incredible as it sounded coming from a one-eyed door, his expression hardened. “”I will not repeat myself, girl. You’re not stepping foot into this establishment, and that’s final. Leave at once.”

Yugo’s anxiety coiled tight around his heart at the possibility that their only chance to get Amalia and Efrim back was slipping through their fingers right under their noses. The pain and unease constricted his lungs, making it hard to breathe. He shared a nervous, worried glance with Ad, silently wondering what they were supposed to do if they couldn’t ask Bonta’s emissary for help. 

If that weren’t enough, the Eliatrope King could only flinch in panic when he caught sight of his sister’s state. While others might have thought she had hung her head in defeat, Yugo and Adamaï knew better. From the slight tremors coursing through her petite form, to the white-knuckled clench of her fists, the furious gritting of her jaw that risked cracking a tooth…

The telltale sign of subtle currents of turquoise energy crackling at her fingertips.

Nora was about to blow. 

With a strangled yelp, Yugo ignored his twin’s comment about, “So much for not bringing attention to ourselves…” and rushed to his sister’s side. His mind racing, he placed himself right behind Nora and reached for her head. 

“Please, forgive me, Nora.”

“Wait, what—?!” 

Nora barely had time to whirl her head to look at her big brother when he pulled her hood down just enough to show her wakfu wings to Luis—smaller and rounder than his own, somehow more resembling an insect’s than a dragon’s. Not unlike Efrim’s. 

Underneath his fingertips, he could sense his pink-eyed sister freeze up, completely speechless, clearly too in shock to properly react. He just hoped she wouldn’t recover fast enough to give him a well-deserved whooping. Grimacing sheepishly, Yugo also did everything in his power to avoid Adamaï’s questioning gaze and his hanging beak. 

At least he had the foresight to shield her from view with his towering form hiding hers.  

Thankfully, his reckless action seemed to yield the desired results. Luis’ sole eye was so wide, if he had a mouth, it would probably be on the floor by now. His disbelieving, contracted pupil kept going back and forth between all three of them, his mind no doubt swirling with questions. 

“You’re the—!”

“Please, Luis, not here.” Yugo rushed out to prevent him from revealing their identity any further. He let go of Nora’s hood—which she wasted no time readjusting, albeit a little frantically—to clasp both hands in front of his mouth in a pleading gesture. “I’m sure Master Joris has told you about us. Meaning, you obviously know by now we wouldn’t be here unless it was truly urgent. We’re begging you, Luis, let us in so we can talk to your master.”

Silence hung over them like a blanket of snow over a roof after a storm—cold and heavy. The bustling city of Bonta and its liveness were completely overshadowed by the sound of the Council’s thumping hearts ringing in their ears. Then, Luis, seemingly over his previous surprise, narrowed his eye on them, causing Yugo at least to try to gulp down the lump in his throat. 

“Very well, you may come in.” The house said at last rather reluctantly, causing all three of his visitors to heave a sigh of relief as the door opened to welcome them inside. 

Eyes darting all over the countless artifacts adorning the antique store, they didn’t have time to do any browsing when the hooded figure of Master Joris came down the stairs, a cautious glint in his dark eyes. 

“Luis, who was there at the door—?” The words died in his throat and his eyes widened at the sight of the King of the Eliatropes, and a member of the Council in his shop. And—wait, was that a blue and white Tofu?

“Greetings, Master Joris.” Yugo bowed his head down politely, relief overflowing him now that he was in the presence of the man he so desperately wanted to see. Nora followed his example, and even Adamaï gave a slight nod of his head. “Please, forgive the intrusion.”

“King Yugo? Lady Nora…? What are you doing here in Bonta? Have Their Majesties invited you yet again?” Strange. The Queens of Bonta would have let him know of their presence immediately if that were the case. 

Lady Nora just shook her head, her expression unreadable. “We have come here to discuss a matter of great importance with you, Master Joris.” Her rosy gaze became steely, making it clear they would not budge. “It is of the utmost importance that you hear us out.”

Joris opened his mouth, and promptly closed it. With a nod, he beckoned his unexpected guests to follow him as he ascended the stairs once more and led them to his personal chambers. 

.....................................................................................................................

Even though it wasn’t a courtesy visit, Yugo took his time to admire the room Bonta’s ambassador took them to. He couldn’t help the nostalgic smile from curling his lips—it was just like a slightly more organised version of his room back home. With objects scattered all over the floor—no doubt precious memories from his adventures all over the globe. Maps and documents threatened to spill out of their containers and cabinets in an unpredictable sort of organised chaos. The bed, built inside the wall, was hidden underneath a thick layer of cushions and childhood toys. And the pièce de résistance; a large copper telescope looking out the window, overseeing the City of the Gods and beyond.

While Yugo, Nora and Ad remained close to the door, Master Joris walked straight to his telescope, and without taking his eyes off the eyepiece he said, “Luis, if you would be so kind.”

“On it, Boss!” Luis’ voice reverberated through the room. In the blink of an eye, a passway opened on the wall nearest their visitors and all but spat out a low wooden table and a few cushions for them to sit on. 

“Astounding…” Adamaï breathed out, unable to help himself. 

“Ah, Master Adamaï. I had a feeling it was you.” Joris said, looking up from his telescope at last but not making a move to leave its side. “Please, don’t remain in that form on my account. It must be uncomfortable to be constantly beating your wings just to remain afloat.”

“Uh, thank you, Master Joris.” The Tofu cleared his throat awkwardly. Closing his eyes to concentrate, all it took was a puff of smoke for the Emerald Dragon to go back to his more reptilian appearance. 

The Bontarian chuckled. “Good to know I haven’t lost my touch.”

“How did you know it was Adamaï?”

“Let’s just say I know a thing or two about dragons, my Lady.”

Finally, he abandoned his telescope in favour of joining his guests. He gestured at the small table with drinks and refreshments before sitting down himself. “Please, take a seat, my friends. From the urgency of your visit, I have the feeling we have much to discuss.”

Watching as they all followed his movements rather stiffly, the Bontarian emissary couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle before taking a sip of his glass. “So this is how it feels to be on the receiving end of an unexpected visit.” He mused aloud. “It’s been a while…”

Yugo furrowed his brow. “We’re sorry for coming up uninvited, Master Joris. But we needed the utmost discretion.”

Joris just waved him off dismissively, though not unkindly. “Worry not, King Yugo. I am not troubled by your presence, rather, it was just a little bit of self-deprecating humour. As you all can attest to, I’m the one who usually drops by unannounced and throws your entire schedule into disarray.”

The Eliatropes and their dragon sibling chuckled politely although a bit awkwardly. Setting his drink down, Joris took a deep breath and leaned over to them, his fingers intertwined over the table as he observed them carefully. 

“So, what is it that you wish to discuss?”

Fists clenching on his thighs, Yugo took a deep breath. It was now or never. 

“Amalia, as well as our brother Efrim, have disappeared.”

Joris froze, his dark eyes as wide as saucers like they hadn’t been in centuries. When he spoke, it was barely above a whisper, “...what?”

“They’ve disappeared.” Adamaï repeated. “It happened a few days ago, during a terrible tempest that assaulted our island. We believe someone took advantage of the unfolding chaos.”

The Bontarian rubbed at his lips pensively. “Well, they certainly couldn’t have eloped together. That much is certain.” Noticing their curious expressions at his observation, he clarified, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I always got the impression that Lady Amalia and Master Efrim aren’t particularly close. That is why, unless their acting was simply superb, I find it hard to believe this was their plan all along.”

“No, you’re…” Nora started, but stopped. Swallowing, she went on, her eyes on the table as her fidgeting hands busied themselves with the hem of her cloak. “You are correct, Master Joris. Efrim… He… He has a hard time letting people in, and Amalia was so abruptly introduced into our lives…” She trailed off. 

Her brothers chose not to say anything about that understatement. 

“It is quite alright, Lady Nora. Don’t worry. The gods know us Twelvians haven’t taken kindly to your presence either.” Joris was quick to reassure her. His tone was as composed and collected as always, but a flicker of kindness shone through. It was small, yet it warmed the girl’s heart all the same. 

Then, his expression flickered, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You believe someone orchestrated the whole thing, you say?”

“That is correct, Master Joris.” Yugo nodded. 

“May I ask what makes you believe that?”

And so, they told him everything. Everything they’d kept under wraps even from Amalia herself. 

They told him about that strange feeling they had of being watched despite finding nothing suspicious, and how it sparked greater efforts in surveilling Oma Island. Adamaï himself revealed he had found and chased a winged woman spying on their territory, more particularly, on Amalia’s quarters, but she managed to escape. They shared how from then on the feelings of paranoia and fear of being watched only grew, especially if whoever was doing it was after Amalia; hence, they made sure the doll would be accompanied by at least a member of the Council and be carefully guarded at all times. They also admitted that was, in fact, the main reason they hadn’t been more against the idea of Evangelyne becoming the Divine Doll’s bodyguard, as it assured she’d be watched over and protected day and night.

“...that’s what we thought, at least.” Yugo sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose in exhaustion. “Whoever took her must have kept an even closer eye on her than we thought. Because Evangelyne actually left her alone during the storm to help us, and they clearly took advantage of that to make their move while Amalia was at her most vulnerable.”

Joris listened intently to their tale, never once interrupting. He occasionally nodded along to their retelling to show he was paying attention, but made no comment. Just listened, his fingers intertwined in front of him on top of the table as he watched them closely. 

He did, however, raise an eyebrow, intrigued, “And why do you suggest they took Master Efrim as well?”

“That we don’t know.” Nora admitted, the sleek black fabric of her pants fisted in her hands. “We’ve theorised they wish to spark conflict between us and the Twelvian nations.” She trailed off. 

“But if this were just another attempt to get rid of us, we fail to understand what they could possibly gain from going to war with us. It would only do more harm than good!” Adamaï finished for her. 

“Chaos. For some, that can be more profitable than any conquest.” The ambassador nodded simply, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed. “Rest assured, however. I highly doubt that’s what they’re actually after.”

Yugo leaned over the table, staring the soot-skinned man in the eyes. He hoped he would be able to see his sincerity. After all, telling what happened was the easy part. Now, they needed to ask for his help. 

“Master Joris, we know this is sudden and, quite frankly, alarming. But we have come here today to ask you for your assistance. The last thing the Eliatrope people want is to go to war; which we know would be inevitable if the other nations were to learn of what happened. Which is why we want to resolve this matter ourselves. But we can’t do this alone.

“You are one of the most worldly, most knowledgeable people on this planet. Please, Master Joris; if we wish to bring Amalia and Efrim back—two people of great importance to us—, we need to know what we’re going up against, and you’re the only one who can help us.”

A knot formed at the pit of the Eliatrope King’s stomach as he waited for his host to give him an answer. Even without looking, without so much as a single shared thought, he could sense his siblings’ own nervousness radiating off of them. What if this was all a bad idea after all? What if Master Joris didn’t just refuse to help them, but did not hesitate to inform the Queens of Bonta and the rest of the world about this? Did he just doom his people anew by placing his trust on an outsider?

At long last, Master Joris raised his head from his meditative pose, his expression unreadable. “You said the mysterious winged woman you gave chase left behind a few feathers, correct?”

“U-uh, yes. That’s exactly it.”

“May I see them?”

Even though he had no idea what that could possibly have to do with anything, the Eliatrope didn’t question him. Feeling he might need them as proof of their credibility, Yugo had actually taken the feathers Ad found back in the day with him. He fished them out of his inner pocket—the same one that once carried Amalia’s doll form—and placed them on the little man’s awaiting hand. 

Joris brought them closer to his face, his eyes narrowing in on them as he inspected them carefully. Rotating the feathers as if wanting to see them from all angles, he called out to his Shushu, “Luis, please, tell Kerubim and Atcham to come to my room. I need their opinion on something.”

“What?! You’re gonna let them in on our situation just like that?” Nora demanded, slamming her hands on the table and ignoring her brothers’ protests. Master Joris remained unperturbed. 

“Rest assured, my Lady. If I tell them to, my sons will take the secret to their graves.”

Nora looked like she wanted to keep arguing, but she was interrupted by the two old Ecaflips barging in, a long tirade of complaints trailing after them. 

“Okay, okay, we’re here!” The bald one declared, coming to stand besides their father with his paws settled on his hips. His tail flicked impatiently. His lisp only got more pronounced as he hissed. “What’s that thing that’s so important so as to interrupt my daily nap?”

“You mean your sixth daily nap, Atcham.” The fluffier brother pointed out sarcastically, already taking a seat next to their father. Though not without letting out a small grunt of effort. Clearly, his age must have caught up with him.

“Shut it.” He snapped. 

With an eye-roll befitting someone with years of experience dealing with a troublesome sibling’s antics and none of the patience for it left, the fluffy Ecaflip turned to Master Joris instead.

“Ah, I see we’ve got company.” He nodded politely at their guests. “We didn’t have the chance to be properly introduced last time. I’m Kerubim Crépin, and this bald, grouchy fleabag is my brother, Atcham.”

“Who’re you calling a fleabag, you fleabag?!” The Sphinx cat protested as he took a seat on the opposite side to their father. “You hairy types are always the same! You think you’re better than the rest of us!”

Another eye-roll, this time followed by a sigh. “Ignore him, he has a complex.”

“I do not!”

“Anyway, Papichat, Atcham is right. What do you need us for?”

Under the Eliatropes and dragon’s flabbergasted looks, Master Joris remained unbothered by his children’s bickering. Instead, he simply held the feathers in his hand higher and passed them over for them to inspect. “Take a look at this, boys. I need you to confirm something for me.”

Humming curiously, Kerubim took them, and even Atcham forgot all about his previous outrage to have a closer look. After a while, their eyes widened, they shared a knowing nod, and handed the feathers back to Joris. 

“What do you think, boys?” Joris asked, even though he already had a pretty good idea what they’d say. 

Resting his head in his palm, Atcham tsked his tongue. “They’re Echo’s alright.”

“One hundred percent.” Kerubim agreed, taking a sip out of his tea. 

Master Joris nodded. “I suspected as much. Thank you, boys.”

“Uh… sorry to interrupt. But who is Echo?” It was Adamaï who voiced the question in everyone’s minds. “And why would she go after Amalia and Efrim?”

“No idea why she’d be interested in your brother—unless she has a bone to pick with your pantheon too.” The bald Ecaflip shrugged nonchalantly, which only confused their visitors further. Then, he muttered between nibbles of his biscuit, “You’d think she’s an Ouginak, rather than an Eniripsa…”

“As for Lady Amalia, well… She’s probably trying to get her to join her Club for Needy Emo Divine Children Who’re Mad at Their Parents.” He continued in a sing-song voice before pretending to gag. 

“Can someone tell us what on Eliatrope’s infinite Krosmoz is going on?” Nora blurted, one eye twitching. 

“To be fair, my brother’s description isn’t that far off.” Kerubim admitted, causing their guests to look over at him in shock. His tail thumped against the floor; honestly, he couldn’t blame them. “You see, Lady Echo is an Eniripsa demigoddess known for her scheming, unpredictable personality. The feathers you found are hers, no doubt.”

“But I thought Eniripsa were fairy-like creatures, like their goddess.” Yugo pointed out, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Even male Eniripsa have bat-like wings.”

“Exactly, and the woman I followed looked more like a harpy.” Adamaï added quickly. “I could have sworn she even had horns…”

It was Kerubim’s turn to shrug. “Rumour has it her father is a dragon and she inherited most of her physique and powers from him. I can’t say I’ve ever seen her myself, but people who have claim she’s a woman clad in black with mismatched wings—one white, the other red.”

With a gasp, Yugo’s eyes immediately trailed after the feathers Ad found, still on the table. He pursed his lips; they were exactly as rumours said. 

“Alright, but this Lady Echo…” Nora started uncertainly. While they were getting closer, they were still in dire need of answers. “What does she want? If you don’t know why she’d take Efrim, then what does she want from Amalia?” She shot a glare at Atcham. “And what do you mean with ‘her club’?”

“I mean that’s essentially what she’s said to be doing.”

The three of them deadpanned. Feeling like they would not get much more out of Atcham, they turned to stare at his father and brother expectantly. For their part, the mismatched family shared dubious glances, unsure of how much they should share. In fact, Kerubim was about to tell them that was all they knew when a gesture from his adoptive father stopped him. Though unsure at first, when he understood what he meant, Ecaflip’s favourite settled down.

It was Master Joris who broke the silence with a sigh. “For centuries, there have been ill-concealed whispers going around about a secret organisation. An alliance, if you will.”

“What kind of alliance?” Yugo asked carefully, his hand coming to rest over his left wrist. 

“Between those who believe themselves to have been mistreated.” The ambassador said gravely. That got his guests to raise their eyebrows in surprise, but he went on. “I know what you’re all probably thinking. ‘That doesn’t really narrow it down, does it’?” He chuckled humourlessly. “And you’d be right. Except for the fact this organisation’s members are said to be anything but ordinary.”

Adamaï was the first to piece everything together, his eyes wide, “You don’t mean…?”

“Yes, there’s rumours of a secret society formed by demigods.” 

“And descendants of dragons, as well.” Kerubim provided. 

A chill ran down Yugo’s spine. For a moment, all he could do was gape in shock, too stunned for words. One thing was facing off against regular Twelvians, but if they were to face people descended from this world’s deities, then things wouldn’t necessarily go as neatly in their favour. But that still posed the question…

“What could they possibly want from Amalia?” He blurted out without thinking. 

Thankfully, his question happened to be appropriate given the current conversation. 

“As I said,” Atcham started, his tail swaying boredly behind him. His lisp was as prominent as ever. “They’re all resentful. Their members are all demigods or dragon-blood with mummy and daddy issues who turned against their parents because they felt betrayed by them.” He explained in between bouts of grooming himself. 

“Considering Lady Amalia is a Divine Doll, and therefore, the closest thing there is to a Sadida demigoddess, chances are they intend for her to renounce her father and join their cause.” Kerubim continued. His claws kept toying absentmindedly with the dice on his necklace, as if something weighed heavily on his mind. 

“By Eliatrope…” Nora gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth. Her expression morphed into curiosity when she registered what the Ecaflip said. “Wait, what is their cause?”

“No one knows.” Master Joris admitted apologetically. “Most people aren’t even aware of their existence. All we can tell you is that they’ve been acting from the shadows for a long time. Most likely manipulating many historical events to their advantage.”

“That is… horrifying.” Adamaï mumbled, looking down at the table deep in thought. His siblings were thinking along the same lines. He leaned closer, a question in his black eyes. “If you don’t mind my asking, if they’re supposed to be so secretive, how come you guys know about them?”

Kerubim shrugged nonchalantly. He took a pipe out of his tunic sleeve, lit it up, and brought it to his mouth. “We’ve lived long enough to know a little bit of just about everything.” He then flashed the dragon a meaningful look. “That, and they’ve tried recruiting us before.”

“What?!” All three members of the Council of Six exclaimed. 

Could it be they just entered the Boowolf’s den and were about to get abducted too by the very same organisation that kidnapped the doll and their brother?!

“Relax, you guys. We turned them down each time.” Atcham waved them off dismissively. “We’re not as desperate for daddy Ecaflip’s approval as our siblings.”

“Your… siblings…?” Yugo tilted his head to the side, his hooded poncho following the movement and almost exposing his wings. 

“One of our sisters tried to get us on board years ago, but we declined each time.” Kerubim explained easily, taking a drag out of his pipe. “In turn, we kept telling her those low-lives were up to no good. It took a while, but she finally came to her senses and left.” Despite the happy ending, his muzzle turned grim. “We weren’t so lucky with Ush, however…”

“Ugh, that name again.” His brother tsked his tongue in annoyance, but there was a certain sadness in his amber eyes too.

Noticing their visitor’s questioning gazes, silently urging them to elaborate, Atcham rolled his eyes so far back he could see the inside of his skull. “Ush Galesh is another brother of ours, just from a different litter. He’s a gambler and a sore loser who never took not being our father’s favourite well. 

“So what does someone like him do when faced with something like that? He joins the first group of sketchy people he can find, willing to take him in and encourage his negative behaviour!” Picking up a small bowl of milk, he shook his head derisively. “It’s ridiculous, honestly.”

“Atcham, you used to be a Brakmarian assassin for similar reasons…” Kerubim was quick to remind him. 

“Hey, at least I never kidnapped an innocent girl!” He defended himself, his hackles already raised. 

Nobody in the room had the heart to tell him being an assassin was hardly better. 

Suddenly, the bald Ecaflip’s snarl morphed into bewilderment. He blinked. “By Ecaflip… I’m getting a strange sense of déjà vu.”

“That’s because we already told Lady Amalia this story.”

“Ah, right, right. I forgot.”

“Wait!” Yugo’s yelp cut through the conversation, drawing all eyes to him as he jumped from his seat and slammed his hands down on the table. Since he was much too tall, he was left in a bit of an awkward angle, but he pressed on. “Are you saying Amalia already knew about the organisation’s existence?”

Why hadn’t she said anything? Could it be that she planned to join them all along and she wasn’t actually taken after all?

Eying the golden pendant wrapped around the Eliatrope King’s wrist, it didn’t take the luckiest Ecaflip alive much to put two and two together. A surge of sympathy coursing through his veins, he rushed to clarify, “No, no! Nothing like that, Your Majesty! Although, on second thought, perhaps we should have warned her…” Realising he was getting distracted, he shook his head to keep himself on track. “We just told her about Ush to help her understand that not all divine children have a positive relationship with their parents. That’s all.”

“I… I see.” The old Ecaflip let out a relieved sigh when King Yugo sat back down, clearly a little more at ease now. Kerubim couldn’t help but feel for the boy. He also knew what it was like to lose the one you loved. 

“That still begs the question, though… How did they come to know about Amalia’s existence and location?” Yugo finally voiced the question that had been haunting him for days. 

“Harebourg.”

The answer sent a chill down his spine, at the same time as it made his blood boil and his eyes flash blue for a second. Everyone present whipped their heads to look at Master Joris. It was the first thing he said nearly since the conversation began.

“What?” That single syllable carried more venom than a Sram’s flask. 

“After the banquet at Bonta, Count Harebourg probably reported his findings on Lady Amalia back to Echo and the rest. As Xelor’s forgotten son, he is one of them, after all.”

Despite the myriad of emotions fighting for dominance inside Yugo, it was Adamaï who interjected in his stead, “If you knew he belongs to what is essentially a terrorist group, then why was he invited to an event that would give him access to Amalia in the first place? How come his race’s authorities haven’t apprehended him already?!”

Oh, Yugo would do more than ‘apprehend him’ if he was ever in his presence; he thought as a shadow shrouded his features. 

“Because they can’t.” Kerubim replied simply. 

“What? What do you mean ‘they can’t’?” Nora demanded to know, her pink eyes narrowed as a snarl curled at her lips. “He is but a mere count, and the Xelors are ruled over by a king! Certainly his authority far surpasses that of Harebourg!”

Atcham opened his mouth to explain, but it was Yugo who stunned them all by offering the explanation instead, “Because he is a demigod. His powers far exceed that of any mortal’s. What hope do they possibly have of putting a stop to his plans if he has both power and resources to resist?”

His siblings quieted down at his words, their eyes wide. Nora made a face and looked away, but while Ad remained fairly impassive, a small flicker of something shone through his eyes. Yugo recognised it immediately. He knew far too well what they were thinking about, because his mind was set on the same thing.

The Council of Six. 

While they knew their people genuinely loved and respected them, no doubt in their minds of all the sacrifices they made to ensure their race’s well-being, there was no denying they were immensely lucky. Unlike most Twelvians, apparently, the Eliatropes were ruled over by a council composed entirely of demigods who far surpassed them in terms of power and endurance. 

Even if they were to rebel against their rule, any attempt at resistance would be squashed like a measly bug in an instant. 

Clearly, the Xelor court found themselves in a similar predicament with Count Harebourg. 

“You are indeed correct, King Yugo. The Xelors are well-aware that both Harebourg’s nature as a demigod skilled in magic and his position as ruler of Frigost make him an extremely dangerous and elusive foe.” Joris kept quiet about the Xelor King’s laments regarding their inability to properly deal with the count even after he terrified Lady Amalia. 

As ambassador of Bonta and council moderator, he swore to take the content discussed during council meetings to his grave. A promise he would uphold over virtually all else. 

“That’s why they can’t really do anything about him.” Atcham summarised, bitterness dripping from his tone. 

“As for your other question,” Joris continued, his voice calm and even. “I must admit, nobody knows for certain whether Count Harebourg is a part of that demigod alliance or not.”

“But you just said—.”

The ebony-skinned emissary interrupted by raising his hand. “I know what I said, Lady Nora. And although I am personally convinced of that fact, in all honesty, it’s more of a hunch of mine. A theory, if you will.”

Yugo narrowed his eyes. “What makes you so sure?”

“I do not know all the details, but it is no secret that Harebourg is deeply resentful of Xelor. Some even say he has declared himself an enemy of Jiva, a guardian of the months chosen by his father.” Joris revealed in a grave voice. Pushing himself off the table, he went to retrieve a storybook from a shelf and handed it over to the Eliatrope King. 

While they were busy admiring the story inside, Adamaï and Nora scooting closer to peer over their brother’s shoulder, the little man continued. “Rumour has it that some dire events from the past led the count to feel abandoned by them both. But I will spare you the details. 

“What made me suspect of his connection to Lady Echo’s group is actually many years of enmity—in case I haven’t told you before, Count Harebourg is an old adversary of mine.” He held their astonished gazes for a moment, letting the silence linger and his words sink in. “I may not know everything there is to know about the man, but I do know enough to realise he probably needed help to get back on his feet.”

“And what better help than fellow demigods with sucky childhoods?” Atcham added sarcastically, his tail lashing in distaste. 

“Count Harebourg being allies with Lady Echo also helps explain much of what’s happened so far.” It was Kerubim who pointed out the obvious. “It’s true we do not know everyone that is involved in their dealings besides our brother, but how would they have come to learn of Lady Amalia’s existence otherwise?” He gestured animatedly to himself and his family. “Our father would never reveal sensitive information, and as we said, for many, their existence is but a rumour nobody dared say aloud.”

“As the only other demigod in attendance besides our respective groups, that would naturally mean Harebourg wasn’t acting just in his people’s name. He was most likely collecting intel on Amalia as well!” Yugo pointed out, panic at the realisation colouring his features. 

And to think, Amalia had actually been in danger for that long… And they never suspected a thing. His fist clenched around her pendant. 

His hold on it only loosened ever so slightly when Adamaï discreetly rubbed his back with his tail. He set his serious gaze on the ambassador. “How do we find them? Are there any rumours as to where they all congregate?”

Even the dragon had to hold back a curse when all Master Joris could do was shake his head sadly. Nora, on the other hand, cursed loudly and proudly. 

“By Eliatrope’s endless reach!” She spat and stood up, her nostrils flaring. “So that’s it? This whole conversation has been nothing but a waste of time?!”

“I wouldn’t go that far, girl.” Atcham sent her a look. 

She responded by jutting a hip out and crossing her arms defiantly, a sneer on her face. “What, are you finally going to make yourself useful all of a sudden?”

His smirk unsettled her. 

“My father is right; we cannot tell you much.”

“But you know someone who can?” Yugo asked, some hope returning to his eyes. 

“Meh.” The hairless Ecaflip made a ‘so-so’ gesture with his paw. “If you want my advice, you should go to Brakmar.”

“Isn’t that Bonta’s rival city?” Ad furrowed his brow. 

“The one where you were an assassin?” Nora deadpanned.

Atcham actually winked and cocked a finger-gun at them both. “Bingo. You see, Brakmar is home to just about every lowlife and snitch on the World of Twelve. You can get just about anything there.” His smirk turned dangerous. “For the right price, of course.”

“If anyone has information on Lady Echo’s group, you’ll find them there.” Kerubim finished, taking a sip out of his own bamboo milk. 

“You do remember we still have no access to your kamas, right?” Nora quipped, still more than a little peeved from the Enutrof King’s horrified reaction at the idea of including more people into their economic system. 

“Of course. Which is why we will be accompanying you and acting as your guides.” Master Joris sentenced in a tone that left no room for argument from any of the people present. “Brakmar is not exactly famous for being a very welcoming city; a search party composed by a group of ‘invaders’—as they most likely see your people—will be no exception.”

Even though Yugo’s mind was made up the moment they suggested it, he still shared a meaningful glance and a nod with his siblings to make sure they were all in agreement. Their own determination resonated with him. Suddenly, he was so glad he took them with him. With that, he faced Master Joris again, his expression resolute. 

“If that is what it takes to get Amalia and Efrim back, then take us to Brakmar.”

His hand closed around the pendant once more. Either to draw some more strength from it or to ground himself, Yugo didn’t know. 

..........................................................................................................................

Little by little, consciousness made its way back to Amalia. 

Much like her very first memories after Sadida created her, all she got at first were distant, phantom-like sensations. She distinctively registered lying with her face up, a limp arm sprawled over her abdomen and her body resting on top of something raspy and soft all at the same time. The air left her lungs in deep and heavy exhales. 

With a groan, she creased her eyebrow and fluttered her eyes open. Only to shut them close not a second later, wincing at the pain caused by the light assaulting her cornea before she had the time to adjust her vision. With a grunt, she sat up, the hand on her abdomen coming to rake her fingers through her unruly evergreen hair and rub her pounding head, while she used the other one to prop herself up. 

Blinking blearyly a few more times, she finally managed to look around without squinting. Experimenting with the grainy texture underneath her palm, she picked up a handful of the mysterious substance and brought it to her eye level. 

“Is that… sand?” She managed to croak out, and she almost panicked when she heard a voice that sounded nothing like hers. But it had left her throat. 

With a grimace, she let the sand fall, countless pearly white grains quite literally slipping through her fingers as she was still too out of it to do anything but watch absently. It took Amalia longer than she would ever admit to break out of her trance and realise it was probably a good time to try to get her bearings. 

The doll looked around, trying to discern where she was. 

The first thing she noticed was the sand, reaching as far as the eye could see and seemingly swallowing everything whole. What appeared to have once been mighty statues laid now shattered and half-sunken deep within its white confines. Amalia chose to blame it on her general confusion, but she got the feeling she knew who those statues were supposed to represent—she just couldn’t put her finger on it. 

Giving up for the time being, she figured she should try to look for a way out of… wherever she was, but all she could do was scrunch up her face into a pout and whimper in despair.

No matter where she looked, there seemed to be no way out. While the room she was in could only be described as spacious, it was essentially bare of everything and anything aside from the dilapidated statues, endless indoor dessert and, she supposed, now her. 

Growing a little more frantic, she looked up in hopes of finding a window. What she found caused her to let out a little gasp, though it was still too soon to tell if it was a relieved gasp or a despairing one. 

High above, where all the light was coming from in the first place, she could see the sky—looking every bit as grey and bleak as Amalia felt at that moment. It was also far away. Easily several dozens of metres away from the ground, but the doll actually felt hopeful for the first time since she woke up. 

Acting instinctively, she reached out a hand and pointed it at the floor to summon a vine that would get her out of here. Eyes widening in shock, her ogrine heart dropped into her stomach at what she felt. 

There was… nothing. 

She didn’t know where she was, but it had to be a terribly arid and barren place, because she couldn’t sense any plant-life at all. 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There was this distant pull, completely different from the Tree of Life, that told her there were plants around, but she might have as well been trying to talk to a rock. She couldn’t connect to those plants, as though they were purposely ignoring her.

She had no power over them.

Normally she would have made some of her seeds grow but, she realised with a start, she had none with her. 

Oh, sweet Sadida!

She was stranded in the middle of nowhere and completely powerless!

Her breathing growing erratic the more the helplessness of her situation sank in, Amalia almost didn’t hear it. Hunched over and hands gripping strands of emerald hair tightly, her eyes moving at top speed as her mind raced, she jolted with a start when she finally registered it. 

A groan. 

She wasn’t alone. 

Her head snapping up at the sound, she turned in the direction where she thought the groan came from, her eyes widening when she finally took notice of the motionless lump of flesh sprawled over a few metres away from her. 

Amalia brought her hands to her mouth to muffle her horrified gasp. 

“Efrim!” She cried out. 

Then, her troubled expression morphed into one of further astonishment. 

Wait, why would she be stranded the gods knew where with Efrim, of all people, laying unconsciously by her side?

Her deep brown eyes widened in recognition as it all finally came back to her. 

The terrible storm that ravaged Oma Island, with the Council of Six doing everything in their power to keep their people safe. 

That mysterious, double-crossing creature that pretended to be Lori to lead her away from the palace and into a trap. 

The fact that she’d encountered Efrim before and had been far too engrossed in their argument to realise something was wrong until it was too late. 

The feeling of something—or someone— powerful and ancient descending upon them when they least expected it, and that completely overpowered them regardless of their attempts to fight back. 

And then, darkness. 

A watery gasp escaped her. Instinctively, the doll reached out to grasp her pendant for comfort, only for her fingers to grasp nothing but air. For the first time since she woke up, Amalia registered the lack of comforting metal hitting her collarbone, and panicked. Swirling her head and upper body back and forth, her eyes scanned the endless sand desperately, in search of the necklace’s golden glow under the faint light. 

All she found was more sand and her fading footsteps. 

She realised with a start that she must have lost it during the attack.

Worst of all, despite remembering everything, Amalia still had absolutely no idea where they were, let alone why they were there in the first place. She held onto her belly for dear life as she kept her other hand clasped firmly on her mouth. The knot that formed at the pit of her stomach causing her to feel as if someone had pulled on her stitches until she couldn’t breathe anymore, the Divine Doll did everything in her power to keep the tears that threatened to spill out at bay. 

She could not cry. She would not cry. 

She didn’t spend months learning how to take care of herself only to lose her nerve at the first most likely life-threatening situation she found herself thrusted into. 

She was a Divine Doll crafted by Sadida himself. She was extraordinary by nature. 

And so, taking a deep breath to steel any remaining nerves, Amalia stood up on shaky legs and started making her way over the unconscious dragon, her movements wobbly as she went due to remaining motionless for Sadida knew how long. Her feet sank deeper into the endless dunes with each step she took, her body stumbling over the unstable terrain.

“Efrim?” She tried calling out to him in a whisper-shout, already dreading the snarl that would no doubt adorn his maw as he regained his bearings and realised he was stuck with her. “Efrim, wake up!”

“Long time no see, my dear Amalia.”

Eyes widening in fright, Amalia stopped in her tracks, completely frozen. The voice sent a shiver down her spine, and this time, she knew for a fact it wasn’t hers. 

It wasn’t Efrim’s either.

Firsts clenching at her sides, the Sadida Doll fought against every single instinct that told her to run away, and slowly, very slowly, she looked over her shoulder. Her stomach dropped to her feet when she had her fears confirmed. 

“Count Harebourg.”

The dreaded aristocrat hovered a few metres away from her and above ground, enough to make it look like he was at a respectful distance. Amalia bit down on her bottom lip. Any Xelor would take only a matter of seconds to teleport right in front of her if they so desired. Whatever sense of security he was supposed to radiate was nothing but an illusion. 

“My, so you still remember me after all this time.” Count Harebourg marvelled, controlled cheer glinting in his remaining eye. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that, my Lady.”

With a nervous gulp, the doll’s fists clenched at her sides almost instinctively. An involuntary shiver ran down her spine the more she kept her gaze locked on the Xelor. Although his posture, with his body perfectly straight and his hands folded behind his back, was supposed to evoke calm and discipline, it was his gaze that had Amalia’s heart hammering against her ribcage in fear. 

Those eyes, cold and lifeless even without that prosthetic lense, regarded her with the same disturbing intensity as they did back in Bonta. The same barely-restrained madness that coloured his features as he ranted on and on about his divine father and expected her to disown her own. The easy-going smile on his face was practically fractured. 

A cheap mask that failed to conceal anything at all. 

Only this time around, the count had seemingly no intentions of keeping up with the masquerade ball. 

Her fears were proven correct when he closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye, his voice hoarse and bloodcurling in her ear, “I certainly haven’t been able to forget about you either.”

Much to her chagrin, Amalia couldn’t help the scared cry that escaped her due to their close proximity. Thinking fast, she leapt away from the everlasting cold of his grey parka to give herself some breathing room. Her mind raced, searching for ways to defend herself.

Powers or not, she wasn’t about to let months of training go to waste. 

Taking one deep yet nearly imperceptible breath to steel herself, Amalia widened her stance until she was as stable as the traitorous terrain allowed. With a glare that should be enough to send men lesser than the Xelor demigod running, she raised her fists up in a defensive pose, her guard up. 

“Where are we, Harebourg? What is this place?” She all but growled. 

“This, you say? Oh, my pretty, don’t you see?” Harebourg let out a warm chuckle that left her feeling cold. He extended his arms to his sides, and gestured all around him. “You’re finally home, Amalia. You’re where a Sadida Doll such as yourself truly belongs.”

Brow creasing even further, Amalia threw a quick, sarcastic look at the desertic ruins around them. The irony was almost palpable. “And where is that?” She pressed on, her tone clipped. 

If the count heard her, he didn’t show. He just took a step forward that immediately had the object of his twisted affections taking a step back.

“I must admit, this is the kind of situation I would usually scoff at.” He mused aloud, taking long, deliberate strikes towards the retreating doll. A bead of sweat streamed down her face the more her captor kept talking. “You see, beloved, I am the kind of man who believes one should always forge his own destiny. Experience has taught me how unreliable deities and the powers that be truly are…” 

The more he talked, the more his tone, much like his expression, turned dark and stormy like the sky before an unforgiving blizzard. 

“And yet, here you are!” The unnatural grin was back on his face as he gestured towards her with both hands, the edges stretching his lips in a way that seemed almost painful. “So beautiful, so full of life, so perfect. Just when I was about to surrender myself to my sorrows, you appeared, like a beacon, like a sign. My dearest, this is fate.”

Goosebumps erupting all over her skin as a heavy rock sat in her stomach was all the sign Amalia needed to bolt it. 

Wasting no time, she turned back around and tried to make a run for it, her heels kicking up heaps of sand as she tried to get as far away from that obsessed madman as possible. Her heart almost jumped out of her throat when he teleported right in front of her, blocking her escape route and forcing her to skid to a halt. It took all her willpower to keep herself upright and not slip backwards out of shock. 

He went on with his little speech. Unperturbed by the fact that his audience very much did not want to hear it. 

“Resistance is futile, Amalia. Soon enough, you will see we were meant to be. That is why you’re here, because you are one of us.” 

Everywhere she went, no matter which direction she tried to run to, her personal white-haired demon just materialised out of thin air and quite literally stopped her in her tracks. The Sadida Doll kept scanning her surroundings for any viable escape route, but it was all pointless. Count Harebourg was always three steps ahead. 

“That fool of Yugo never deserved you, Amalia. Never! And it is only yet another testament of the gods’ folly that they ever found him worthy of you. You—are—mine!”

That did it. 

An inferno raging through her veins, Amalia moved so fast not even the Time Lord himself would have been able to dodge her hand. Just when the Xelor reached out a gloved hand to her, the sharp sound of skin-to-skin contact reverberated through the room, echoing against its ancient walls. Amalia’s hand stung from the sheer force behind her slap, but she allowed herself a small smirk when it was enough to turn Harebourg’s face to the side. 

When she spoke, her voice held all the confidence and fury her fear tried to snuff back in Bonta. 

“I will never be yours, Count Harebourg. You’ll do well to remember it.”

A frightening chill shot through her core when the deranged count chuckled darkly, “We’ll see about that.”

A scream tore through Amalia’s throat when Count Harebourg turned his face to look at her once more. A psychotic smirk marred his features, making them look more like a grimace, his remaining eye wide and looking straight into her soul. 

All thought completely vanished from her mind under the mad Xelor’s frightening gaze. Her pupils contracted in abject horror and her frantic heart ringing in her ears overpowered all sound as she could only stare back at Harebourg. She distantly wondered if the temperature dropping like it did was the result of his ice powers, or of the violent shiver coursing through her body, immobilising her. 

Even so, even when her doe-like eyes stung from unshed tears, Amalia refused to let Master Glip’s training be for naught. Even if she couldn’t call forth her vines, she resumed her defensive pose, ready to rely on hand-to-hand combat and whatever few precious seconds it could grant her. If she was going to be reunited with Sadida today, it’d be with her head held high. 

Amalia watched as stoically as she could as Count Harebourg rose from the ground, hovering above her in a display that no doubt was meant to make him feel superior as he literally looked down on her. Her feet dug deeper into the sand when freezing winds encompassed his gloved fists, his ice magic at the ready. 

Cold hands blazing, he raised one and aimed it straight at the doll, who idly thought she’d finally know what it felt like to be an ice cube. 

Suddenly, a deafening roar echoed through the abandoned chamber. Ice became steam as it collided against a purple-hued stream of fire. 

“What?!” Harebourg demanded, looking up.

Following his lead, a gasp was torn from Amalia’s throat when she too looked up, her eyes shining in equal parts astonishment and relief at what she saw. 

Flapping his crystalline wings furiously, serpentine tail flicking back and forth, Efrim had finally woken up. As his elegant yet strong wings kept him afloat, he fixed Harebourg with one of his famous you’re-gonna-wish-for-death glares. The same kind that Amalia had grown overly familiar with over the course of the last few months. 

She never thought she’d be so happy to see the dragon’s grouchy face!

Nostrils flaring and smoke emanating out of them, Efrim’s snout curled into a vicious snarl, “She said ‘no’.”

The Xelor met his snarl with one of his own, “This doesn’t concern you, dragon!”

“Considering I was kidnapped and taken Eliatrope knows where alongside her, I’d say it very much does.” If possible, Efrim’s icy blue eyes narrowed even further. “Either answer our questions or leave us at once. There will be no further warnings.”

With a derisive scoff, the count's snarl twisted into a haughty smirk, “By all means. I’m truly curious to know whether you actually possess the skill to back up your threats or if, much like your king, you’re all talk.”

The disrespect to Yugo’s name was enough for Amalia to see red, and apparently, for Efrim too. Cobalt eyes flashing in fury, the Turquoise Dragon shot himself forward with a claw out, aiming to slash his foe and tear through his clothes and skin alike like paper. 

Unfortunately for them, the psychotic aristocrat wasted no time showing precisely why facing off against a Xelor demigod was a very risky gamble. 

Amalia could only look on from down below, her hands clasped tightly over her mouth to muffle her horrified cries, her eyes wide and panicked. Count Harebourg matched Efrim blow for blow—what’s more, he surpassed him near effortlessly. While the young dragon’s maneuverability in the air was nothing short of commendable and he kept on training his pinkish beams on his opponent, the count’s natural abilities meant Efrim had found his match.

Each time a hit was about to land, the Xelor no doubt stopped time to harmlessly move out of the way and resume the fight when it was most convenient for him. The doll’s heart constricted painfully in her chest as she watched how time and time again the count didn’t just dodge Efrim’s best efforts, but materialised right behind him or out of his reach to nail him with an ice-cold beam. 

If this was the true extent of Count Harebourg’s power, then Amalia was immensely grateful to Yugo for intervening when he did back at the banquet. 

Before long, Amalia noticed with alarm, the periwinkle dragon was beginning to grow sloppy. His breath laboured and his vision seemed distant, unfocused. The flapping of his wings to keep himself aloft, nearly effortless but a few minutes ago, now appeared to be a herculean task. Sweat streamed down his maw and meshed with the sand below. 

Unfortunately for him, she wasn’t the only one who noticed his imminent exhaustion. 

With a horrified gasp, Amalia cried out, “Efrim, look out!”

But it was too late. 

Before he could so much as turn to face his enemy properly, the latter had already lost his patience with him. Right hand encased in ice, Count Harebourg shot a freezing beam straight at Efrim, who could only cry out in pain. A solid block of ice formed around his lithe form in seconds, effectively immobilising him and causing his body to fall straight to the grainy floor below with a resounding thud!

“Enough with these games.” Harebourg declared almost robotically. 

Amalia barely had time to worry about her fellow prisoner’s well-being. Not a moment later, Harebourg had his uneven eyes set on her once again. 

With no time to waste, she turned around in an attempt to escape from his grasp, a bitter taste in her mouth at the mere idea of leaving Efrim behind after he selflessly protected her. But it was all pointless. 

Not a moment too soon, Amalia let out a startled cry as bone-chilling cold enveloped her running feet and she almost face-planted on the sand. One quick, fearful look was enough to confirm her fears—Harebourg had trapped her feet in ice, preventing her from escaping. 

Grunting in frustration, she tried to punch away at her confines, her ears registering Efrim trying to do the same from where he lay, but the aristocrat’s chilly voice rang through the space, utterly unimpressed. 

“Don’t waste your energy.” He said flippantly. “That’s magic ice; it can only be broken through divine power. A few measly hits won’t cut it.” 

He walked closer to where the doll was trapped, almost leisurely. As though he was thoroughly enjoying the sheer terror he was inflicting on her, not unlike how a predator liked to toy with his food. His smirk as he finally reached her was definitely predatory.

“Now, where were we?”

“I believe you were about to let our guests go.” A melodious yet deeply commanding voice said from somewhere in the room. 

It lasted for only a split second, but Amalia would swear she saw fear in Count Harebourg’s eyes at the sound of it. 

He immediately tried to excuse himself, palms up in surrender. “L-lady Echo! I-I can explain—!”

Suddenly, the ever in-control count was yanked from the ground by a multicoloured blur. From where they stood, both captives could only look on in amazement and natural apprehension as a winged figure grabbed Harebourg by the head with her claws, dragged him to the other side of the chamber, and proceeded to repeatedly bang his head against the hard stone walls over and over. 

“I—said—you—were—forbidden—from—ever—stepping—foot—in—this—room!” 

Every word that left her mouth was punctuated by the sound of her slamming Harebourg against the wall. 

When she finally released him, the count toppled over the ground and brought a hand to his neck, gasping for air. Her back was still turned to their ‘guests’—as she called the doll and dragon—, but not even her mismatched wings could hide the look of sheer terror on the Xelor’s face in response to her order. 

“Leave at once. We shall discuss your behaviour later.”

Sparing one last longing glance Amalia’s way that caused goosebumps to erupt all over her skin, and not the good kind, Harebourg bowed his head once and did as he was told, “As you wish, my Lady.”

And just like that, they were alone with their harpy-like saviour. 

Who could very well be their captor in the first place. 

Amalia jolted in place when she abruptly turned around to face them. Her yellow gaze seemed to pierce through the doll’s very core, making her feel exposed in a way she had never felt before. It was hard to tell whether it was fear or sheer awe, but Amalia couldn’t take her eyes off of her. 

True to her nature, the harpy before them possessed a pair of large, majestic wings; only they were mismatched—one was as white as pure, untouched snow; while the other had a red hue as dark as wine. Oddly enough, those extra limbs grew out of a form-fitting bodysuit that went from her upper torso all the way down to her avian claws. 

Just like her long, flowing hair, it was dark like a moonless night. Her skin was like nothing Amalia had ever seen before—a green so pale, it was almost off-white, which contrasted greatly and neatly with the rest of her. With pointy Cra-like ears, her features were beautiful, yet haunting; graceful, but sharp. Almost as sharp as her intelligent eyes, which were fixated on her ‘guests,’ causing a wave of tension to hum through every inch of Amalia’s skin. To top it all off, the largest pair of horns Amalia had ever seen rested comfortably atop her head. 

They could probably rival Adamaï’s!

The Divine Doll couldn’t, for the life of her, figure out what race the lady before her was supposed to be. 

She just had never met anyone quite like her before!

Then, just as unexpectedly as she appeared and put a stop to Harebourg, she smiled. 

Something small and seemingly kind, yet charged with meaning. 

Amalia immediately tensed up when she took the first step towards them. 

“I am terribly sorry for such an unsightly display. You’ll have to forgive our dear Count Harebourg, he can be a bit… eager sometimes.” Her voice was rich and velvety as she placed a clawed hand over her chest, like a sweet caress to your ears. Her every word felt as though it carried just the right amount of weight; her speech perfectly calculated. “But I assure you, nothing of the sort will ever happen again while you’re here. You’re perfectly safe. I’ll make sure of that.”

Amalia barely had time to register the sinister timbre of her voice when she said those words. She didn’t have the chance to before Efrim spoke up from his own icy confines.

“Those become empty promises the moment you kidnap us from our home and imprison us Eliatrope knows where.” The dragon snapped, eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

Emboldened by his example, Amalia likewise demanded to know, “Who are you?! What do you want from us?!”

But the mysterious woman’s smile remained unperturbed. 

For a while, she didn’t speak. She just continued walking forwards with a serenity and poise that could not be replicated. Just like that, she tucked her massive wings away, disarming her unwilling companions in a matter of seconds. 

“My name is Lady Echo, and I am the leader of the Brotherhood of the Forgotten.” She announced, and all Amalia could do was hold her breath in fear of disturbing the delicate sense of order between them. 

Her astonishment was interrupted by Efrim’s scoff. “‘Brotherhood of the Forgotten’?” He echoed in disbelief. “It certainly doesn’t sound like a very reassuring name.”

Despite herself, the Sadida Doll found herself nodding in agreement. 

Again, Echo’s smile didn’t waver. If anything, it only widened when she tilted her head to the side. 

“Ah, but that is because that’s precisely what we are, dear Efrim; we’re the ones forgotten by the gods.” A shiver, more powerful than the ones Count Harebourg elicited from her, ran down the doll’s spine when the woman set her knowing gaze on her. “Isn’t that right, Lady Amalia?”

The dragon snapped his head to glare at Amalia questioningly, who could already feel the weight of his accusations and distrust, even though the both of them had been taken and attacked by the same mysterious group. She almost deadpanned.

She bit down her lip, however. Now was not the time to get carried away by her outrage. 

“How could I possibly know? I haven’t been forgotten by the gods. I’m not even sure why you’d think that way; the twelve take great care of their followers.”

A sardonic laugh escaped Lady Echo’s thin lips, “Of their followers, perhaps. But they certainly can’t say the same for their actual children.”

“What is that suppos—?” The doll couldn’t so much as finish her question when the other woman was suddenly standing right in front of her. 

Amalia couldn’t help the startled squeak at the oppressing force of her presence. Fearing for the worst, she flinched and closed her eyes, bracing herself when she saw Echo lifting one of her talons off the ground and in her direction.

Pools of warm brown fluttered open when, rather than feel any pain, the sound of shattering glass filled her ears, followed by warmth slowly returning to her feet. She immediately looked down and gasped. 

She had freed her from Count Harebourg’s ice…

Her head snapped up when she realised Echo was headed for Efrim next, who could only thrash helplessly inside his block of ice as she approached him. Despite his many protests, once again the horned woman lifted one claw, and this time Amalia bore witness to how she broke the icy prison by stomping on it. 

But how?! Nothing she or Efrim did seemed to work a little while ago, and Count Harebourg said only divine power could break it—! 

Wait a minute. 

“Y-you’re…” Amalia started, her voice tremulous under the weight of recent revelations. She swallowed hard. “Are you a demigoddess too?”

Echo, who had created some distance between herself and an irate, albeit recovering, dragon by continuing her aimless walk through the sandy room, actually stopped for a moment. Looking at the Divine Doll over her shoulder, she offered her an amused little smirk. 

With a flourish of her newly untucked wings, she turned to face them and bowed down her head slightly. Like an actress entertaining her captivated audience. 

“Demigoddess daughter of the goddess Eniripsa at your service, my dear.”

“Eniripsa? But I’ve met your mother; she is known world-wide as the Miracle Fairy, and you’re…” She gestured not-so-vaguely at the woman. “Not.” Amalia blurted out, wincing slightly at her own lack to tact. 

If Echo was offended, she didn’t show. “The gods aren’t exactly known for their ability to keep it in their pants, Amalia.” She quirked a sarcastic eyebrow. 

The doll blushed. 

It was at that time that a still cautious Efrim slithered his way over to Amalia. Shaking any remaining ice shards off his body, he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow of his own. 

“Thanks for showing us your family tree, very informative. What does that have to do with our kidnapping?”

The Eniripsa demigoddess just chuckled. “You insist on calling it a kidnapping, Master Efrim, when in truth it was nothing of the sort.”

“Right, forgive him.” Amalia piped up, earning himself an incredulous glare from the Turquoise Dragon that she promptly ignored. “The Eliatropes must have another word for the action of taking someone against their will and keeping them as a prisoner.” She pretended to light up in realisation before her expression deflated in sarcasm. “No, wait. That is kidnapping!” 

Was she dreaming, or was Efrim looking at her with something akin to approval?

Oh, no. Never mind. It disappeared as soon as Echo spoke up again, “As I said, you are not our prisoners, my Lady.”

“Oh, so I guess we’re free to go, then?”

“Hmm, not quite.” She hummed softly. This time, rather than pad mindlessly around the room, she began to circle her companions as she spoke. “First, we would like to explain our mission to you. Hopefully, it’ll open up your eyes to the truth.”

Without missing a beat, Lady Echo kept on placing one foot in front of the other in long, measured strides. The apprehension taking root inside Amalia and Efrim’s hearts momentarily forgotten as they observed her elegant movements. 

Almost as though they had a mind of their own, her wings retreated into her back. Eyes following her every move, they could only stare in shock as the claw-like footsteps she left on the sand were swiftly replaced by human feet. At the same time, the dark suit clinging to her legs slid off her slim figure, becoming a flowing dress that she dragged along the sand as she walked. 

The doll had to squint her eyes at the sight, the material catching her eye. Surely it couldn’t be—.

Was that hair?

She didn’t give them the chance to voice any of their questions, though. 

“You see, Amalia, while Harebourg can be too impetuous for his own good, his heart is actually in the right place. He—.”

“If by that you mean terrorising and almost assaulting me, then you and I have very different definitions of right and wrong.” Amalia cut her off, venom dripping from her words. 

The demigoddess’ voice was actually ice cold when she replied, “No, that is unforgivable and he will pay for it dearly.”

“Even so, a man capable of doing that seems hardly the type to have ‘his heart in the right place’,” Efrim air-quoted mockingly. “What could someone like him possibly be right about?”

For the first time since she stopped the very man they were talking about, a deep frown etched itself onto the Eniripsa’s features. 

“The gods cannot be trusted.” She sentenced with indisputable finality. “That is the core of our mission. To do whatever it takes to look after the World of Twelve now that the deities that swore to protect this world have turned their backs on their own creation. Just like they have always done.” Although it was supposed to be a whisper, that last part came out more like a hiss. Cold fury brewing under the surface.

As soon as the darkness shrouded her features, it was gone. Her expression softened yet again when her piercing yellow eyes settled on Amalia. “And we hope you’ll be willing to join our cause.”

That statement actually sent Amalia reeling. “How dare you?! The gods look after the World of Twelve and its inhabitants; that is their utmost duty!”

“And yet, they turn a blind eye to the suffering of their own children, readily sacrificing us so they won’t get their hands dirty.” Echo countered without missing a beat. “You of all people should know that, Amalia.”

Brows creasing, a vicious snarl tugged at the doll’s lips. Her dark brown eyes blazed with barely-restrained ire. “I am a bridge between the Twelvians and Eliatropes! My sole existence is proof that the gods are always looking after us!”

“Your sole existence is proof that the gods are cowards who will throw their own children to the Boowolves before risking their own neck.” Echo shot back, her words calculated, precise, and meant to disrupt any argument Amalia could come up with. Just then, her eyes glittered with a brief glint of compassion, her stoic mask falling slightly. “You were denied freedom the very moment you were conceived; instead, you were bound to another’s will as soon as you were born. First Sadida, now the Eliatropes.”

It was Efrim who retorted this time, slithering forwards and angling his body up until he was face-to-face with the taller woman. “It was your gods who imposed their will on us by leaving us no choice but to take her in! Don’t you dare imply otherwise!”

Much to his eternal frustration, Echo remained perfectly poised. The corner of her lips only tugged upwards ever so slightly. 

“I see we are of the same mind, Master Efrim.” She looked past the dragon and straight at Amalia, her yellow gaze piercing and pointed. “No matter the case, Amalia’s agency was taken away from her, doomed to serve the whims of another before her own.”

“That’s not true!” The doll protested with fists clenched at her sides. Her voice rose an octave higher in her desperation to defend her father, the Eliatropes, herself. “Helping Yugo and his people is my greatest honour. I fulfill my duties with pleasure! Everything I do is because I want to do it. I have all the freedom in the world, because I am living my life as I choose!”

“Ah, but who are you ultimately living for? Yourself, or Sadida’s edicts? Yugo’s perhaps?” Echo questioned pointedly, causing Amalia to feel like she’d been splashed by a bucket of cold water. Her serene expression morphed into something unforgiving once again. “You were created not for yourself, Amalia, but for someone else. You were never allowed to be your own person. Ever.”

A feeling of helplessness made itself a home deep within the doll’s ogrine heart, constricting her from the inside out. Shaking from rage, her every nerve ending on fire, she bit her lips so hard the coppery taste of blood invaded her tongue, but she paid it no mind. With a tsk! of her tongue, she stubbornly looked Echo in the eye. 

An open challenge.

“You don’t know anything.”

Echo accepted it eagerly.

“I know more than enough. You’re not the first demigoddess who’s been abandoned by her divine father.” Then, the smirk returned to her face, something confident and knowing. “But hopefully, you will be the last.”

Before either Efrim or Amalia could do anything, a purple light spread from Echo’s back, her wings materialising anew under their heliotrope hue. With one mighty flap, she was airborne again and away from them. Her smirk was still in place as she looked down on them with something akin to twisted maternal affection—warm and affectionate, yet endlessly condescending. 

“You keep saying we’re keeping you prisoner, yet you fail to see the irony in your circumstances.” She mused, as through thinking aloud. She shrugged with feigned nonchalance. “I suppose, in the end, it's all the same. Behind bars or castle walls, a cage is still a cage. The only difference is that one is prettier than the other.”

“What do you mean by that?” The doll ground out, but received no answer. At least, not a satisfying one.

“You’ll understand soon enough.” The Eniripsa said cryptically. 

“How convenient…” Efrim grumbled under his breath. 

“Oh, one last thing.” Lady Echo commented airily, as though hearing the dragon’s voice had kickstarted her memory, one finger raised as wings flapped mightily to keep her airborne. “Don't try to fly away, Master Efrim. I assure you, the effort would be completely futile.”

Immediately, his hackles were up, “And why would that be if not because we’re your prisoners?”

She actually rolled her eyes this time. “I told you, you aren’t our prisoners. We just need you to hear us out first.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question.”

Still in mid-air, Echo raised her palms up in surrender. “I was getting there. The reason why you shouldn’t try to run away is because a good old Feca friend of mine has ensured your safety by placing an impenetrable shield at the entrance to your room. Trying to break it would be an exercise in futility.”

“Our safety?” Amalia raised an eyebrow. “It sure did nothing to protect us from Harebourg.” She spat out bitterly, murder in her gaze.

“As I said, he will be punished.” Echo promised solemnly one more time. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid there are still some matters I must tend to. But rest assured, we will see each other again soon.”

Turning around, she began to fly higher up and away from the room. She was about to leave them alone for good when she stopped abruptly to look at Amalia over her shoulder one last time. Her yellow eyes glinted enigmatically, “Oh, and Amalia? There’s someone who’s dying to meet you.”

When Lady Echo finally disappeared, leaving the two of them all along at last, Amalia refused to say a word afterwards. Too afraid that if she broke the silence, she’d also break the careful dam she’d built to cover up the fact that the whole thing had left her quite shaken. 

............................................................................................................................

Tristepin trudged aimlessly through the castle’s halls, his cape rustling with his every movement. 

Well, he supposed ‘aimlessly’ wasn’t the best way to put it. He knew exactly where he was headed, but the thoughts in his mind buzzed so loud, it was like everything just blurred together and he moved on autopilot. Stumbling away like some forsaken Ghoul. 

As he turned yet another right, memories of that fateful day kept replaying in his head on loop. 

The day when Lady Amalia and Master Efrim were taken. 

To be fair, he was out and about in the training area near the palace when the storm broke out. At first he stayed out, never one to pay much mind to working out under a little bit of rain or getting wet. However, when minutes ticked by and the rain still didn’t ease down—if anything, it only came down stronger—, Tristepin decided to call it a day and get back inside. 

Even he wasn’t Iop enough to brandish a sword against a storm. 

(He learned his lesson the hard way the last time he got electrocuted during a thunderstorm). 

The more and more civilians took shelter within the building, the higher his eyebrows rose. He tried asking around, but it wasn’t until he pulled Eva aside while the now-properly-named Council of Six seemed to be debating something that he truly learned the severity of the situation. 

According to his girlfriend, the storm was so bad and there were still so many people outside that King Yugo and his siblings were thinking of setting their emergency plan in motion and go look for their subjects alongside a handful of elite guards. 

Naturally, the Iop’s first instinct as a warrior and knight, sworn to protect the innocent, was to volunteer himself to brave the elements and herd everyone back inside. But Eva wasted no time to remind him things were still a little tense after the rather poor first impression he left on Lady Amalia and that it might be better if he laid low. 

He still didn’t understand what height had to do with anything, but he wasn’t about to argue with his Cra beauty when she was already stressed and frazzled as it was. 

Though he couldn’t deny that staying put wouldn’t break three legs on a Tofu... 

So, regardless of his personal feelings on the matters, for once he chose to listen to Eva and just mingle around the palace until everything calmed down. 

He’d come to regret that decision more times that he could count in the following days. 

One minute, they were all waiting for the sun to spill its golden rays through the dark clouds once again. The next, panic erupted all over the island when news of the Divine Doll and one of the Eliatrope Dragon’s disappearance reached them. 

All Tristepin could think was, “I should have been there…”

Especially when he found out Eva had ignored her own advice and gone off to help the Council of Six instead of staying behind with him and watching over her ward like he assumed she’d do. 

But that didn’t matter anymore. Not when they had much bigger fish to fry. 

Not when his heart ached knowing poor Eva would never forgive herself for what happened.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally reached his destination. 

Eva’s room. 

Rubbing tiredly at his face, bags growing under his eyes from several sleepless nights, he raised one fist and knocked on her door. When that yielded no response, he tried again, pressing his ear against the weird, glowy hatch-like thing just in case she wasn’t there. A faint rustle somewhere from within crossed that option out. 

“Eva, are you in there? It’s me, Pinpin.”

The rustle intensified, heavy footsteps that carried the weight of Oma’s current crisis lumbered forward, slowly raising in volume. At the whirring sound of the hatch opening, the Iop hurriedly took a step back and turned to face his girlfriend. 

His heart sank. 

If he thought she was taking it hard before, her lifeless face confirmed his suspicions. 

Her large Api green eyes, usually so alert and bright, were dull and listless, hooded by heavy eyelids that yearned for rest that wouldn’t come. Her freckled fair skin looked pale and sickly, with her naturally pouty lips pressed into a thin line. Her golden hair, which she always kept perfectly combed, was dishevelled, sticking out in odd places, and had lost its lustre. Even her ears, which he always found irresistibly adorable, drooped sadly at both sides of her head. 

Between her appearance and the fact that she was still wearing her nightgown instead of her work clothes, it was clear to see Evangelyne was trapped in a cruel nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. 

Lip trembling at the sight of her, the redhead threw his arms around her and pulled her into a hug, one she accepted both half-heartedly and desperately. Clinging to him like she never wanted to let go, but doing so way too soon nonetheless. 

She wordlessly gestured for him to enter and shut the door behind them. 

Walking into her room, he tried to ignore the fact that her bed remained unmade at noon, the covers thrown haphazardly over the mattress in a bungled heap. He quickly averted his eyes when they lingered a little too long on the clothes and dirty laundry scattered across the floor, the closet door ajar yet untouched. He had to bite down his tongue especially hard when he noticed her bow —any Cra’s most prized possession—leaning lazily against the wall, instead of on top of a hanger where it belonged. 

Doing his darndest to keep his mouth shut, Tristepin flopped down on her messy bed, fiddling with his hands as he stared at the ceiling. As he pretended everything was okay.

Either he wasn’t doing a very good job at hiding his astonishment and horror, or they’d been together long enough that Eva could just simply read his mind now. 

“Sorry about the mess. Haven’t had the energy to do much cleaning lately…” She admitted quietly before letting herself fall into the space right beside him. As soon as she sat down, she instinctively leaned over and rested her golden head over his shoulder. 

“Hey, if you think this is bad, then you should see my room.” Pinpin tried to joke, but his sheepish laughter soon died out when his girlfriend didn’t make a sound, not even one of agreement because she knew his personal hygiene could make a Bwork pass out. 

Rubbing the back of his head, not sure what to do and hating how powerless that made him feel, the Iop decided to just stare ahead. Eva was a reserved person, always had been. She didn’t say a word about her younger sister until months of dating. 

Her tendency to push everyone aside and trying to do everything on her own out of pride hurt a little, to be honest. But at the end of the day, she always came back to the people she loved. He just needed to be a little patient right now. 

She would open up sooner or later. He knew that. 

“It’s all my fault.” 

The sound of Eva’s tremulous voice startled Tristepin out of his reverie, since he thought it would’ve taken her way longer to say anything, but he wasn’t about to complain. Not when Eva had said the most Iopish thing he’d ever heard. 

The surprise etched onto his features softened into sympathy, his grey eyes shining with compassion. He turned around just enough to face her and to grab her gently by the elbows. Still, she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“Hey, now. You know that’s not true. You had no way of prevent—.”

“I’m her bodyguard.” She cut him off with a watery glare and a harsher truth. “If I’d just done my Cra-damned job, then none of this would have happened.”

Too startled for words, Pinpin could only watch as the crying Cra freed herself from his caring grip and wrapped her arms around her form, desperate for any kind of comfort she just wouldn’t get. His hands clenched around fistfuls of the sheets underneath them, a heavy stone setting in his stomach at the painful sight of her shaking shoulders. 

“I’m her bodyguard!” Eva repeated, her voice breaking under all the stress, and guilt, and self-loathing she’d been under during the last few days. Even so, she still tried to wipe her tears away with her clenched hands. “If only I’d been by her side like I was supposed to, if only I’d been there to protect her like I was meant to do, then maybe… maybe… Maybe she wouldn’t have been taken at all…”

Her voice grew so weak and frail that Pinpin’s first instinct was to reach out to her, but just as his hand was about to make contact with her skin, the blonde stood up and began to pace around the room. The Iop’s frown deepened. That was never a good sign. 

“I swore to always be by her side and look after her, but I was so angry, and so resentful over the things she said, over the things she said about you,” she slowed in her movements before stopping completely, whirling her whole body to face her wide-eyed boyfriend. The red brimmed emerald of her gaze shone with a myriad of conflicting emotions he’d never be able to name. “That I just needed to get away from her for a bit. 

“By Cra, I was so distracted and confused over our argument that I jumped at the first opportunity to put some distance between us for a while. I didn’t even think twice when King Yugo went out to look for any stragglers. I just… followed after him and away from Amalia.”

With a broken sob, she brought her hands to her tear-stained face and let herself sink into her bed again. Legs dangling over the edge, her back was against the mattress as she cried, the sound of her despair tearing Pinpin’s heart apart and rearranging it over and over again. 

“If only I’d put my pride aside…” The Cra whimpered through weak hiccups. “Then maybe I could have gone with her and fought whoever took her and Master Efrim away. I could have kept her safe. But I didn’t. I didn’t, and now she’s gone because of me.”

Tristepin considered himself to be a man of many talents. A valiant knight. A powerful fighter. A talented swordsmaster. A dedicated Shushu Guardian. An expert on dungeons. And yet, it was in moments like this one, where his beloved Eva was bawling her eyes out, the weight of the impossible standards she set upon herself crushing her completely, that he would gladly change all that if only he knew how to make it better. 

Still frozen by an uncharacteristic bout of indecision, the redhead’s gaze travelled down to his belt, where an unresponsive Rubi hung. He frowned. It’d been days and still not a word from him. As much as the old piece of rust could get on his nerves, Pinpin wished he was there to berate him. 

At least that way he would have some guidance on what to do. 

With a heavy sigh, he did the only thing he could think of and laid sideways besides Evangelyne. He counted as a small victory that she didn’t protest when he took one of the hands shielding her sobbing face from view and held it in his. His thumb rubbed lazy circles on the back of her hand. 

Looking down at their intertwined hands, he couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, amused. 

Eva’s elven ears and their enhanced senses picked up on it, naturally. Despite everything, she raised a questioning eyebrow. “What?” She sniffled. 

“It’s just a little weird holding your hand without any gloves on during the day.” He shrugged before looking up at her with a tender smile. “I kinda forgot how soft it is.”

The blonde blushed, but didn’t let go. “You Iop-head, don’t go saying that kind of thing around in broad daylight.”

He was so glad to see the spark return to her eyes that he didn’t comment on how she’d gone back to treating him like an idiot. She didn’t mean it, anyway. 

“Why not? We’re completely alone.”

“Still.” She sniffed. 

This time, the both of them broke out into quiet giggles, small smiles tugging at the corners of their lips when their gazes met. The Iop’s heart squeezed uncomfortably when Eva’s expression turned grim again and she faced away from him. He gave their conjoined hands a reassuring squeeze. 

“Eva, I know you feel guilty.” He started quietly, which was weird for someone as boisterous as him. “And I can’t blame you for it; this whole thing is so messed up. But it’s really not your fault.”

“I’m her body—.”

“I know you’re her bodyguard.” It was his turn to cut her off. His tone was firm but gentle. “But you honestly couldn’t have predicted this would happen! I mean, I’m pretty sure I heard someone say that Chibi guy didn’t see it coming either, and he’s supposed to be a profit! …not sure what that has got to do with anything, but still.” He mumbled that last part more to himself than anything. 

Eva could feel her eye twitch. “A prophet, Pinpin. Not a—urgh, whatever.”

The Iop watched with sad eyes as the blonde tucked her legs and hugged them close to her chest with her free hand. Despite her people's most distinctive feature, it was clear that his words fell on deaf ears. 

He sighed again, turning around too and draping his own free arm around her form. “It’s all my fault anyway.”

As in on cue, he immediately felt Evangelyne tense up in his embrace. 

Turning back around to face him, she propped herself up on the bed with lightning quick movements. “Pinpin, no! You had nothing to do with it! How could this ever be your fault?”

“I’m more to blame than you are.” He shrugged nonchalantly, as though he’d just said an easy, undeniable truth, rather than dropped a Rogue’s bomb. “No, Eva. I mean it. If anyone’s at fault here, it’s me.” He rushed out to add when the Cra opened her mouth to protest yet again. 

Not like it amounted to anything. 

With an irked pout, Eva let go of his hand to cross her arms over her torso, “It’s not your fault.” She repeated emphatically. 

“It’s not yours either.”

“Except it is! I’m—her—bodyguard!” The blonde insisted, her hands lightly poking at her chest with every word. “It’s literally my job to be by Amalia’s side and protect her from danger. And where was I while she was being kidnapped? Oh, right. Not by her side! And all because of a stupid fight!”

“A stupid fight you wouldn’t have even started if it hadn’t been for me.”

Instantly, the angry flush on the Cra’s face completely drained from her features, leaving behind a crestfallen expression and long ears drooped in surrender. 

She didn’t know what hurt more. Being reminded of that fact, or the absolute certainty coating her boyfriend’s words. He couldn’t possibly think that. She tried reaching out a hesitant hand towards him.

“Pinpin…”

The sad, accepting little smile he regarded her with broke her heart. 

“For once, I’m right, aren’t I?” Pinpin tilted his head to the side. “You guys were thick as Rogues before I came along. But then, I freaked Lady Amalia out and suddenly everyone was on high alert around me. Suddenly, you two pick a fight and can’t stand being around each other for long. And because of that, you couldn’t be there when she needed you. 

“Eva, if this is anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

Tears threatening to spill from her eyes once again—absolutely devastated by how eager her precious Iop-head was to put himself down—, Evangelyne laid back down, this time facing Pinpin. With one last sad whimper, she closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his torso, nuzzling close to him and burying her nose into his shoulder. It was a matter of seconds before he returned the embrace. 

“You couldn’t have possibly known Amalia would react badly to you.” She tried, her voice weak and tired. 

His tone matches hers. “Just like you couldn’t have known someone would choose that day, of all days, to attack.”

Even though he couldn’t see it, Pinpin just knew Eva was probably making that adorably grouchy face of hers she got whenever she couldn’t win an argument. Rare of an occurrence as it was.

“So what? Neither one of us is at fault?” She grumbled, the sound muffled against his chest. 

“Either that, or we spend the rest of our days grappling with our self-loafing.”

“Self-loathing, Pinpin.”

“What’d I say?”

A loud sigh from Eva’s nose was the last sound they made for a while. The conversation fell into a dull after that, only the echoes of their beating hearts and the lazy rustling of sheets to keep them company. The songs of distant birds alongside the quiet rumble of the Oma jungle lulled them into sleep, their eyes growing heavy from guilt-ridden exhaustion. At long last, Eva began to relax in his arms, her breath growing deep, and her eyelids heavy—.

“How’s King Yugo?” Tristepin asked with all the subtlety of a, well, an Iop, and Eva’s green eyes shot open at the same time as her whole body went rigid. 

The grouchy pout hardening into an outright glower, she shifted her head just enough to glare at her boyfriend. “You really can’t read a room, can you?”

“You know I can hardly read at all.”

Letting out a long-suffering sigh, Evangelyne pushed him away just enough to look at him properly. She raised an eyebrow, “What about him?”

“Well, I just haven’t seen much of him, I guess…” The redhead scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Usually, I see him out and about around the palace, or the village, or anywhere, really.”

“His Majesty has embarked alongside Master Adamaï and Lady Nora on a mission to find a way to get Lady Amalia back.” The Cra explained matter-of-factly.

“Huh. Yeah, that makes sense.” The Iop commented airily. “He must be up in knots over this whole thing. I don’t know him much, but Lady Amalia means a lot to him.”

Eva nodded. “Indeed. She is the key to his people gaining acceptance into our world, after all.” She frowned, confused, when Pinpin shot her an odd look. “What?”

“Uh, nothing. It’s just that, well, I was actually talking about the fact that he seems to be in love with her. But yeah, that too.”

The blonde’s eyes were as wide as saucers, “You’ve noticed it, too!?”

Okay, now he was a little offended. “I mean, yeah. I know I’m not usually the most observant guy around, but it is pretty obvious.” His pout softened into a teasing grin. “He smiles at her like I smile at you, so I figured that, just like me if it were you, he’d be beyond himself with worry.”

Heat rushing up to her freckled cheeks, Eva quickly averted her gaze at his unexpectedly sweet words. Even so, something he said struck a chord within her. She pursed her lips into a thin line at the memory of Yugo’s reaction upon finding Amalia’s pendant with its owner nowhere near in sight.

Just like Pinpin said, he was beyond himself. His dark brown eyes, otherwise so warm and comforting, were frantic and panicked, darting every which way but seeing nothing at all. And the way he fell to his knees when he found the necklace, clutching onto it like a lifeline… His grip on it so tight, it was a miracle he didn’t break his skin and draw blood from the jagged edges.

“I actually can’t believe he has yet to scold me, let alone punish me, for my role in Amalia and Master Efrim’s kidnapping…” Evangelyne admitted quietly. 

Pinpin shot her an unimpressed look. There she went again…

“Eva…”

“No, I mean it. He actually wanted me to remain by her side, and only accepted my help very begrudgingly. You’d think the king would discipline a servant over the catastrophic consequences brought upon them for disobeying his direct orders.”

Tristepin hummed non-committedly, seeing her point. “Guess he’s just too preoccupied trying to get her back to waste time pointing fingers.”

Despite her boyfriend’s rare moment of valuable insight, the Cra’s mind was elsewhere. It took her back to Amalia’s breakdown upon first meeting Pinpin, unbidden. An involuntary shudder ran down her spine at the memory of the sheer rage shining in Yugo’s eyes and how it was directed at the Iop. 

The thought of having that same glare directed at her made her want to crawl into a hole and die. 

“I’m starting to think it would’ve been better if he just berated or punished me over it already.” She confessed, nuzzling closer to Pinpin. “Because the guilt is eating me alive…”

“Hey, look at me.” The redhead instructed gently, cupping her cheek with his hand and using it to gently guide her to meet his gray gaze. “She’ll be back, okay? The both of them.”

“How can you be so sure?” She whimpered with a sniffle.

“Because they’re already doing everything in their power to find them.” He said with as much confidence as he could muster. Then, he propped himself up just enough to puff his chest out proudly and jab his thumb against his chest. “And I will be helping them, too. Not for nothing am I a world-renowned knight, after all. I know this world like the back of my hand.”

Even though he said that with just enough bravado to elicit a fond giggle out of Evangelyne, his next words were much more tender and genuine, “We’re gonna find them, Eva. I promise.”

Rather than say anything, the Cra just threaded her slender fingers through his crimson hair and pulled him close. The searing kiss was almost enough to fry his brain, but a lingering thought still managed to survive the all-consuming fire. 

While he’d stop at nothing to help with the search, the Council of Six would have to allow it first. 

............................................................................................................................

It was during the twilight hours that they were all supposed to meet at long last. 

With its dilapidated ruins, endless dunes that composed its lifeless canvas, and the distant howling of opportunistic predators, the Kingdom of Wings was a far cry from its former glory. Once home to one of the most fearsome conquerors the World of Twelve had ever seen, now it was but a reminder of what became of his life. 

A humiliating display that elicited pity and contempt alike. 

Even so, despite the unforgiving conditions brought upon by centuries of neglect, one would be surprised to find out that, sand and shattered statues aside, the old palace was in a fairly good condition. Good enough that her dear friends had long settled in. 

Well, at least when they weren’t out and about taking care of some assignment.

Others just never really left these ancient walls. 

Echo kept her steely gaze ahead as she leisurely descended the stone snail stairs leading to the very heart of the building. Even though she could arrive at her destination with a mere flap of her wings, she found she preferred doing things the old-fashioned way every now and then. It gave her time to think—to consider and to deliberate. 

And there was much to deliberate about. Especially if they were to organise themselves and set some very necessary ground rules. 

“Besides,” a playful little grin tugged at the corner of her mouth, “I can’t deny I enjoy seeing them squirm as they wait for my appearance.”

The thought passed through the Eniripsa’s head just as she reached the final step. As if on cue, all the anticipating chatter that echoed around the room just a few seconds prior ceased to exist. All at once, every single one of her followers raised from their seats at the sight of their leader, awaiting orders with bated breath. 

Echo’s smile broadened. 

The Brotherhood of the Forgotten was finally all in one place. 

Well, almost. But there was no helping that. Especially not when it would serve their purpose soon enough. 

“Please, don’t be uncomfortable on my account. Feel free to sit down.” She motioned for them to take their seats before beginning her march towards her own. “Eniripsa knows we have much to discuss tonight; better be seated for it.”

As her followers did as she instructed, Echo finally took her place in her seat at the metaphorical table, her intelligent, observant eyes carefully scanning every face present at the Kingdom of Winds’ old battle council. The very same room that once housed a king and his generals during times of conquest, now bore witness to the careful planning of the few demigods who’d been brave enough to say enough is enough. 

Some of the faces staring back at the Eniripsa were guarded and serious. While others were amused and eager. But each and every one of them hung onto her every word. 

She leaned forward in her obsidian chair, identical to those of her companions safe for the golden markings that once reflected its belonging to the master of this palace. What once radiated greatness and power was now faded and chipped away by Xelor’s relentless clock. Her elbows resting on the broken-down sandstone table standing in the middle of the room, her head was propped up by her intertwined pale hands. A playful and mischievous, yet serene and all-knowing, smile pulled back at her pale lips, accentuating the marks on her cheeks. 

“Shall we begin with the meeting?”

“Indeed, Lady Echo.” Kali, her loyal Sacrier demigoddess, rose up from her chair. Her pupiless eyes narrowed into slits as she glared daggers at a certain Xelor. “I believe Count Harebourg owes us an explanation.”

The count just stuck up his nose with a haughty sniff, “I do not have to explain myself to you, Kali.”

“Why, you little—!” The tattooed woman was about to lash out when her beloved Poo reached out from his seat to her right to place a comforting hand on her forearm. 

Echo privately noted Harebourg should count himself lucky Poo was always there to keep his lover’s aggression in check. If it weren’t for the Pandawa, he would have drowned in his own blood already. 

Aggression or not, however, Kali’s displeasure was more than justified. 

“Maybe not,” the odd-looking Eniripsa started, “But you certainly owe me one.” She had to bite down a satisfied smirk when she noticed Frigost’s leader grew paler than usual. “You were strictly forbidden from bothering Lady Amalia while she stayed here with us. Especially  before I even got the chance to explain our mission to her. And yet, how do I find her? Scared out of her mind because you were on the verge of assaulting her!”

“My Lady, I—,” his weak protests were interrupted by a painful hiss. Something had a tight grip around his shin, tight enough to cut off his circulation and draw blood even through his trousers. 

“I don’t want to hear it.” Echo dismissed with a quick wave of her hand. Her golden eyes blazed like a thousand suns under the pale moonlight. “We need her on our side, Harebourg. Thanks to you, we’re about to lose our window of opportunity; the same one we’ve been waiting centuries for!”

“Not gonna lie, I really can’t blame the girl if she wants nothing to do with us after today.” Ush Galesh mused aloud. Although Echo couldn’t quite disagree with the sentiment, she still felt her ears flicker in aggravation over his unwanted commentary. “I sure as Ecaflipus wouldn’t want to be anywhere near an old geezer who won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“Pretty sure that if you combine all your previous lifetimes, you two are about the same age, Ush...” Coqueline pointed out as she idly played with the feathers on her headdress, earning herself a noncommittal shrug from the black Ecaflip. 

“You’re one to talk, Cocky. Aren’t you actually the oldest one here?”

While the Osamodas girl puffed her cheeks out in annoyance and Ush snickered at her expense, an impatient Echo took it upon herself to rein the conversation back in. The look she shot the count could have frozen Shukrute twice over. “Mark my words, my dear count. If you ever come near Lady Amalia again, what you suffered at the hands of Djaul and Jiva will be nothing compared to the punishment that awaits you.”

Even behind her neon mask, Toxine, their long-suffered Sram demigoddess, perked up with excitement. She raised one hand in the air like a little kid volunteering themselves for something fun in school. “Oh! Oh! Dibs on dishing out his punishment! I have just the thing in my Well of Shadows to get him to behave.”

Harebourg shuddered violently. Even hidden behind her mask, there was no mistaking the sadistic glee dancing in the assassin’s eyes. 

“Keep it up and we’ll throw you inside.” Kali hissed with crossed arms, narrowing her eyes in response to Toxine’s glower. “Anyway, his frostiness’ blunder aside, don’t we have more important matters to discuss? Like what we should do with our ‘guests’?” She air-quoted the last part for good measure.

Echo let out a grateful sigh. Trust Kali to get things back on track. Not for nothing she was one of her strongest and most trusted members. 

“Indeed.” She agreed easily. She turned to address the rest of her followers. “As Kali said, despite Harebourg’s… rashness nearly jeopardising our plans, it would be foolish of us to give up now that we’re so close.”

“True. Months of careful planning would have gone to waste. And it’s really hard coming back from a kidnapping, anyway.” A burly man clad in heavy armour commented from the far right of the table. His voice sounded distorted behind his helmet, but he still raised a very good point. 

“Exactly, Black Bump. It would be a waste, especially when there’s still much to be done to convince Lady Amalia to join our cause.” Perking up at the sight of their dear Osamodas colleague raising one hand, the Eniripsa raised an intrigued eyebrow. “Yes, Coqueline?”

“I’m sorry, but how are we gonna do that, again?” The deceivingly little girl tilted her head to the side in confusion. “From what you guys said, she’s a stubborn one. I’m sure she has no idea of how often the gods will turn a blind eye on the suffering inflicted to their world. I bet she hasn’t had to witness how her own father allowed the killing and abuse of innocent creatures…” 

Her sunny disposition turned downcast, then. Cancane, her beloved Gobjob familiar, mewled worriedly up at her when he noticed the absentmindedness behind her usual strokes. He reached out to gently headbutt her under her chin just when her bottom lip began to tremble from unshed tears. 

“If she did, then I don’t know how she could live with herself.” The bitterness dripping from her voice took her comrades aback, who could only exchange awkward glances. It was rare for Coqueline to let her usual optimism drop; she said it made her feel her actual age. 

All except for Toxine, who simply pointed out, “Um, I thought her father had power over plants? Are we sure you aren’t just projecting, Midget?”

The self-satisfied smirk behind the Sram’s mask did not abate in the slightest in the face of the pink-haired Osamodas’ unforgiving glower. 

“I don’t want to hear that from a psychopath like you.”

“At least I don’t pretend to be something I’m not.”

“Enough.” 

While Lady Echo didn’t exactly raise her voice, that single word was enough to snap Toxine and Coqueline out of their little spat. Taking their eyes off each other for the first time in a while, the two feuding demigoddesses recoiled at the sight of their leader with her hands slammed against the ruined table, her massive wings spread wide in a clear display of dominance. 

“Sorry…” While Coqueline sunk further into her chair, her lip upturned into a childish pout, Toxine simply scoffed and looked away as she crossed her arms and legs in a demonstration of her characteristic stubbornness. The toxic green of her outfit glowed in the dark like a beacon of death and treachery. A warning to stay away. 

Echo felt a slightly distrustful glare crease her brow. She waited a moment to make sure no further tensions would arise between the two. When a few seconds ticked by and their behaviour remained unchanged, she saw it fit to continue. 

Tucking her wings away, the black-haired Eniripsa retook her seat in one fluid, elegant movement. “You are absolutely correct, Coqueline. Despite her youth, Lady Amalia carries the same pride and conviction as the rest of the people gathered at this table.

“That said, she is young and inexperienced. There is much about our world and the gods that she remains blissfully unaware of. Her innocence can very well become a double-edged sword.”

“So it’s up to us to deliver the wake-up call she needs?” Ush guessed with a smirk, a cat-like ear flickering in amusement. 

Echo returned his smirk with one of her own. 

“Precisely. When we formed the Brotherhood of the Forgotten, we swore we would look after the World of Twelve and our fellow divine children. And Lady Amalia is no exception. On the contrary, her unique circumstances mean she requires our help more than anyone.”

“Poor kid is nothing but a tool and she doesn’t even realise it…” Poo lamented, his voice barely above a whisper. His shaggy hair swung gently as he shook his head in disapproval. 

It was his turn to look back at his beloved in surprise when Kali placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. His expression softening, he placed his paw on top of her hand and gave it a grateful squeeze. 

Allowing herself a small smile in return, it soon disappeared as the Sacrier turned back to look at her leader, “How should we try to make her see reason, then? Will you be talking to her in the future, or should we invite her to one of our meetings so she can have a wider understanding on the matter told from different perspectives?”

“Yeah… Let’s-let’s not do the last one.” Ush winced, nodding with his head meaningfully towards Harebourg. 

In response, the count narrowed his remaining eye on him, clearly displeased. He flicked his snow-white hair in distaste with a scoff. 

“That won’t be necessary.” Echo silenced them by lifting her hand. “We intend to break Lady Amalia free from the brainwashing done to her by the gods, especially her father. In order to do that, we’ll need to make her realise the horrible lengths they’re willing to go to just to satisfy their selfish desires. To make her see the fickleness of their so-called love. 

“What better way to make her see the awful truth than hearing it from someone who’s experienced it themselves?”

As the rest of the Brotherhood of the Forgotten murmured their agreement amongst themselves, Echo sent a furtive glance to a dark corner of the council room. She shared a brisk yet decisive nod with the figure hidden in the shadows, their plump lips pulling into a determined line. Said lips now hardening into a grimace, a withered fist clenched even more tightly, eliciting a pained yelp from Harebourg. 

Her gaze returned to the table just in turn for their Feca comrade, who’d taken off his helmet to reveal his cerulean mane, to pose the million kama question, “What should we do with the dragon?”

Coqueline perked up in excitement at the mention of the creature her people worshipped, Cancane still in her arms even as she stood atop her seat. 

“Dragon? What dragon? You didn’t tell me another dragon had joined our cause.” Then, eyes glimmering hopefully, she let out a loud gasp as a tantalising possibility crossed her mind. “Is it one of the Primordial Dragons?! Did they finally break free from Osamodas’ control?!”

“Dibs on Grougalorasalar.” Toxine trilled with one hand raised. She shrugged nonchalantly under the pink-haired girl’s questioning eyebrow. “What? I like unpredictable bad boys capable of mass destruction.”

“...we’re working with this madwoman and I’m the one who’s forbidden from going anywhere near Amalia?” Harebourg asked no one in particular, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Kali answered him still. 

“That’s because she at least hasn’t snuck into her room to kill her.” The tattooed woman pointed out flatly. “At least, I hope she hasn’t…” She muttered that part to herself, an inky hand nervously fiddling with a strand of her dishevelled white hair. She’d be lying if she said the idea hadn’t crossed her mind. 

Watching the conversation veering off-course yet again, Echo rolled her eyes good-naturedly and sighed. “No, Coqueline. The Primordial Dragons have yet to show interest in our cause.” She explained gently, walking over to the now disappointed Osamodas demigoddess to lovingly pat her forehead (her headdress made it a little difficult to reach her actual head). “Black Bump is referring to Master Efrim, one of the Eliatrope Dragons.”

The few members who still weren’t up to speed gasped in surprise. Sitting back down in shock, Coqueline went as far as to dramatically cover her mouth, Cancane mimicking her movements from her lap. It didn’t take long for her face to scrunch up in thought, though. 

“Wait, is that why you’ve been talking about ‘guests’, as in, plural?”

Echo nodded. “Forgive me for not telling you all as soon as it happened, but there was much to take into account before we could proceed as planned.”

“Again, like what we’re going to do with an Eliatrope Dragon.” Black Bump repeated more empathetically. Leaning back in his chair with his muscular arms crossed over his well-toned chest, he deadpanned, “Unlike the Sadida Doll, I highly doubt he’ll be able to understand our plight.”

“I must admit I concur with your assessment, old friend.” Poo confessed, interlacing his fingers with Kali’s even when his gaze was fixed on their leader. They’d been together for so long, their every action felt instinctive now, as if they simply gravitated towards each other. “Lady Echo, one thing is to convince Lady Amalia—who, let us not forget, is already in a very precarious position—; but to convince an Eliatrope Dragon?” He let the question hang for a moment, letting the implications sink in. Then, he shook his head ruefully yet again. “By Pandawa, I don’t think that will be possible.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, my love. I’m sure Lady Echo wouldn’t have brought him here if she didn’t have a plan.” The Sacrier cooed softly, hugging her partner’s forearm tightly against her chest. 

“About that…” Ush started uneasily, his ears pressed against his head as a clear sign of his nervousness. “Taking the winged snake with us was never part of the plan. It was more of an accident.”

Blinking slowly at the black Ecaflip, Harebourg tilted his head to the side. His sole, remaining eye narrowed. “What do you mean?”

Ush raised his paws up in surrender, coming to sit on his hunches as per usual of him. How he could be comfortable like that was anyone’s guess. “Lady Amalia was supposed to be alone when we extracted her from Oma Island; we didn’t expect her to be with someone else just as we were about to retrieve her!”

With a careless shrug, he set his yellow, cat-like eyes on the Pandawa. “So we decided to kill two birds with one stone—”

“Again with that Osamodas-forsaken phrase…” Coqueline shuddered, hugging Cancane tighter to herself. 

“—and bring him too. Who knows? Maybe Kali is right and we can get the Eliatropes to join our cause too. I’m sure they won’t be that opposed to the idea after they’ve had a bamboo milk pint or two… Or twelve.” He winked meaningfully at the unamused panda with a playful nudge in his direction. 

“Right, because you can’t reason with a dry throat…” Poo deadpanned. 

“Worry not, my dear Poo.” Echo’s voice cut through the ruckus. Clear and precise like a Sram knife. While he and Ush talked, she’d already reached Poo’s seat and now was leaning against it, a serene smile on her face as she glanced down at the martial artist. “Even if they aren’t Twelvian demigods, they still are descended from a god. And like all gods, there’s no doubt in my mind that Eliatrope is just as selfish and hypocritical as our own parents. It might not be that hard to reason with them.

“After all, if Eliatrope had truly been looking out for her followers, then they never would have had to come here. Am I right?”

The Eniripsa’s reasoning seemed to have its desired effect—Poo visibly relaxed and acquiesced her point with a nod. Although the way he licked his lips told Echo’s eagle eye that he was already counting down the seconds until he could enjoy a nice, cold pint in order to fully unwind after the stressful meeting. Before she could adjourn their discussion for another day, she whipped her head at the sound of Black Bump’s voice. 

“I still think we should have a Plan B in case they aren’t so willing to cooperate.” The Feca mused aloud. He leaned forward in his seat just enough to jab a finger against the destroyed stone table. “This is a small army of demigods we’re talking about! Worse still, they actually outnumber us, and will most likely be furious we took one of their own and someone as valuable as Lady Amalia from them. If we fail to get them to see things our way, then things could get really ugly—fast.”

Mouth hanging open, Coqueline’s big blue eyes were wider than ever as she stared at the armoured Feca. Even Cancane, who was clapping admiringly from her lap, was impressed. The rest of the Brotherhood of the Forgotten shared similar surprised expressions. The Feca demigod didn’t really take things seriously unless they involved his… hobbies. 

“Wow, Bump… I’m so used to you acting all creepy, I sometimes forget you actually are a tactical genius.” 

“Gee, thanks.” He said unconvincingly with a roll of his eyes, before his expression turned serious again. Eyes closed in concentration, he hummed aloud, stroking his bearded chin pensively with one hand. “Now that I think about it, given their worth, maybe I should pay our guests a visit and ask them if they’d be interested in documenting history by donating to my collection…”

Any lingering awe immediately dropped from the girl’s face. “Nevermind, you’re back to being creepy.”

“Creepy or not, Bump is right. We must prepare a contingency plan in case the Eliatrope Council comes to their rescue.” Kali was quick to speak up, ignoring the irked glare the Feca fetishist was sending her way. 

“Good to see we are in agreement once more, my dear.” Poo smiled. 

“Yeah, and something tells me little King Yugo will be very eager to go back to pussyfooting around with his precious dolly.” The black cat artfully dodged the icicle shot his way by a very angry frozen count. With a supremely self-satisfied smirk, he pulled an eyelid down and blew a raspberry at Harebourg, thoroughly enjoying the Xelor’s disgruntlement. 

His snickers only grew in volume when Lady Echo scolded the aristocrat for opening fire against an ally in a closed space. Although he was quick to shut up as soon as her golden glare fell upon him. 

“Sorry…” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, yeah. Any Ecaflip worth their salt knows it takes someone either very confident or very reckless to fold your cards before your opponent has shown theirs.”

“But how should we go about this?” Kali questioned.

“I suggest we lure them in with the promise of getting their reptile and the plant doll back and ambush them.” Toxine offered with a bored tone. She wasn’t even paying attention, just staring idly at her gloves while one crossed leg bounced up and down. “It’s not like we have much use for those outsiders, do we? They won’t be missed if something happens to them.”

“The Brotherhood of the Forgotten always tries diplomacy before violence, Toxine. Don’t you forget.” Echo reminded her sternly, her lips pursed into a thin line. “We’re not the same wrathful creatures that cannot stand to be contradicted as our divine parents.”

The Sram actually cackled. “Tell that to Mister ‘If I Can’t Have You, Then No One Else Can’ over there.” She jabbed a thumb in the Xelor’s direction, who glowered in response. 

Echo was about to speak up when Coqueline’s high-pitched squeal redirected their attention back to her. Bouncing up and down in her seat, flailing her arm around like a little kid trying to catch her teacher’s eye, the youthful-looking Osamodas couldn’t wait to tell her idea to her friends. 

Oh, her idea was just so good! She just knew it!

“Yes, Cocky? Are we having a sugar rush again?”

“I know what we can do with the Eliatropes if they come searching for Lady Amalia and their dragon friend!” 

The demigods all exchanged glances. 

“Go on.” Echo instructed with a motion of her hand, indicating she had the floor. 

Cancane scurrying up to rest atop her bone headdress, the blue-skinned girl jumped on the table and dropped on all fours. An animalistic grin stretching her lips as her excited blue eyes went back and forth between her friends. 

“Why don’t we use a tried and true method?”

That piqued Black Bump’s curiosity, “Care to elaborate?”

If possible, her grin only grew wider and more unhinged. 

“Divide and conquer.” She replied simply. Then, she began to mimic her plan with her hands, making animated gestures as she spoke. “We keep an eye out for them and make sure to divide them between us when they arrive. That way, we can try talking to them about our mission and get them to side with us without losing the advantage in case things go south and we gotta fight them.” 

“Cornering them in our territory, where the odds are in our favour?” Toxine summarised aloud, taken aback by the girl’s ingenuity and pragmatism. The slits of her skull mask wrinkled in pleasure. “By Sram’s boney face! Didn’t know you had it in ya, Midget.”

Coqueline shrugged, a little uncomfortable with her praise. “We can’t afford to be careless with the Eliatropes. They aren’t Twelvians, so they won’t necessarily treat us with the same reverence as our parents’ disciples. Not to mention, that also means we don’t really know what they’re capable of as well as if they were natives to this world.”

A pleased grin made its way onto Echo’s lips. The Eniripsa clapped approvingly at the tiny Osamodas, who, unlike with Toxine, beamed at her praise. “Brilliant idea, Coqueline. We’ll be sure to do that. Besides, I believe it will be easier to get them to listen to us if they see there is more than one demigod who’s discontent with the gods’ way of looking after their followers.”

Ush hummed thoughtfully, his ever-present smirk still in place. “Not to mention, facing the Eliatropes directly also gives us the element of surprise. I highly doubt they know much more about us Twelvians than we do about them, let alone how far we demigods surpass mortals in terms of sheer power.” His fanged smile glinted in the moonlight. “They won’t know what hit them.”

Just then, eerie giggles resounded around the room, drawing every single eye to Toxine’s form. Her whole body vibrated with anticipation, her every pore humming with the need to get rid the world of one more haughty person. Or several people, really. 

Oh, how she loved her job!

“You have no idea how proud I am to be part of this group right now.” She trilled with a clasp of her hands. Then, the gleeful smile dancing in the eyes of her mask turned downright sinister. In one quick motion, she leapt over her chair, perching her athletic body over the backrest as she came to rest on her hunches. 

Like a vulture surveying the desert, eyes alert on her next prey. 

Once up there, she clenched her fist and a bright neon spike protruded from her glove, charged with crackling, venomous energy. “Don’t worry—when I’m done with them, they’re gonna wish they’d accepted our invitation when they had the chance.”

“Uh, you do remember we want to talk things out with them first… Right?” Kali squeaked meekly, grimacing over her comrade’s eagerness to inflict punishment. 

Eyes widening for a second, Toxine scoffed. Still balancing herself over the backrest, she raised to her full height and waved the Sacrier’s question off with a flick of her newly deactivated wrist. “Psst! Of course I know that. I was clearly talking about whe—if!—if they turn us down, Tattoo Girl. Obviously.”

“Of course.” Kali said flatly, exchanging an unimpressed glance with Poo. “Well, then it’s settled. We’ll each face a different member of the Eliatrope Council or whoever they send after Lady Amalia and Master Efrim and explain our motivations for them. If all else fails, then we’ll engage them. All in favour of Coqueline’s plan?”

As her dear followers all chorused their agreements and began discussing who should fight whom based on their intel, Lady Echo couldn’t take her eyes off Toxine. 

Or rather, she knew she shouldn’t take her eyes off her. 

For all her talents and power as a Sram demigoddess, the armoured assassin had always taken her father’s commandments to a whole other level. Usually to its logical extremes. 

Toxine did credit to her race. She was sneaky, pragmatic, clever, and, above all else, treacherous. Her bloodlust knew no bounds. She wasn’t the kind of person who would calmly do as told as let a target go. 

She’d need to keep an eye on her and make sure she didn’t change religions by suddenly going Rogue. 

Her mind made up, the horned Eniripsa nodded discreetly to herself. Her goals now clearer than ever: 

Set the plan in motion and make sure Amalia understood why it was imperative she joined their cause. 

For her own sake. 

[chlogummy]

More daily art!

[cocogum]

Bestiale: the show after Wakfu.

On June 14th, 2023, Animation Digital Network (ADN) released a teaser trailer for the upcoming series, Bestiale, following Wakfu.

Unlike Wakfu, the production of Bestiale has been entrusted to the Japanese team "Studio No Border" instead of the French team.

Here is the synopsis of Bestiale:

Yrehn, a brave and impulsive young Osamodas, protects a sanctuary for animals on Coqueline's island. One fateful day, the Elante, a mythical creature under her care, is abducted by the ruthless Gang of Viandards, a band of dangerous criminals. With the assistance of her new companion Tim, the young woman will confront formidable enemies determined to stop at nothing to accomplish their goals.

Based on the summary alone, we can quickly infer the content of the scenes revealed in the teaser.

In the first scene, Yrehn is shown eavesdropping on a pirate captain as he negotiates with a sram who may be the Gang of Viandards' head chef. The pirate captain appears to be striking a deal with the sram: if he and his crew can capture the Elante, he will receive a good bag of gold as a reward.

In the second scene, we see Yrehn meeting a new character who is supposedly the soon-to-be friend named Tim. He seems to have met her in a restaurant or tavern at best in this shot.

In the third scene, Yrehn is seen tending to the Elante on Coqueline’s island. This Elante, which was previously featured in Season 4, has now reached full maturity.

The Elante has been left unattended without Yrehn (and Coqueline) for some unknown reason and has been pursued by the gang's sram chef.

Luckily, Yrehn arrives on time and immediately starts fighting with the sram.

In the aftermath of a violent confrontation, Yrehn manages to rescue Elante and delivers the amputated hand of the sram chef to the pirate captain who had previously attempted to negotiate with the chef.

(We can tell Yrehn killed the sram chef because we can see that he wears the same skull ring and bracelet on the same right hand)

Here we see Yrehn walking around in town with her familiar, either looking for the whereabouts of the Gang of Viandards or if she’s looking for the Elante.

(This shot doesn’t indicate at what time in Bestiale this takes place or if that’s when she already beat the sram)

And that’s all we’ve got since then.

In addition to the synopsis and the teaser trailer, we got some character sheets of Yrehn made by Xam on twitter as well as an animation exercice.

Here is the Bestiale cover!

Based on the cover alone, there are characters we can already easily identify.

At the top of the cover, right above Yrehn, we can see the pirate captain and the sram chef, followed by a malicious iop who looks like he might also be after the Elante.

At the bottom of the cover, we see some animals and beasts and….ADAMAÏ?!??

Right behind Yrehn, we can see Adamaï in his full dragon form, with no clear explanation for his presence. It is possible that Adamaï may have encountered Yrehn during her quest to find the Elante, as suggested by the Bestiale synopsis. Alternatively, he may appear after Yrehn reclaims the Elante, indicating that Bestiale's plot extends beyond Yrehn’s initial mission. It's important to note that a synopsis usually gives a general overview of the plot and may not contain or present all the elements of the story.

The appearance of Adamaï in Bestiale offers some intriguing insights. Despite the catastrophic event of the big wave, Adamaï is still alive. He appears to be alone, as he is the only easily identifiable character on the cover, and there is no sign of Yugo. Additionally, Adamaï seems older, placing him in a different era. This is indicated by his full dragon form and the sort of hairy bush on his draconic chin, which is the first form we see of him on the cover.

In addition to Adamaï's complete dragon form and Ankama's confirmation of Bestiale being set in the new era, it is obvious enough to know that the series takes place in the Waven era due to the younger and smaller appearance of the last Elante we saw in Wakfu's season 4.

While in Waven, it now looks like a majestic beast in its prime.

The wide difference in the beast’s height, horns, and colors seemed to indicate that a lot of years had passed after the great wave that had marked the beginning of Waven which would suggest that Bestiale happens not at the beginning of Waven, but rather in a time when the twelvians have accustomed to the huge change that happened to their world.

Besides everything that we’ve discussed about Bestiale however, I would like to mention something important about the main character: Yrehn.

All we know about her so far is that she’s a female osamodas with seemingly no family members and has been tasked with being the guardian of a shelter for animals on Coqueline’s island.

We don’t know where she came from, why she had been chosen to be the guardian of the island we had a glimpse of in Wakfu’s season 4, and we have no idea what kind of relationship she has with Coqueline that has resulted in her becoming the guardian instead of simply having the demigod osamodas fill that role herself.

There’s also a very good chance that Yrehn could have been a child at the beginning of the Waven era because of the Waven game cover.

When we look at one of the covers for the game, we can see a little osamodas child with other adventurers and warriors, along with Yugo.

But strangely enough, that little osamodas girl does not appear on the official Waven cover when you enter the game.

Whether the other cover where she was in was an older version of the one we have now leaves us to speculate.

In addition to that, there is also another little osamodas girl who might be Yrehn. And that other osamodas girl is… also another guardian of Coqueline’s island.

Seriously why are there so many osamodas guardians-

This unnamed osamodas girl appears in the 10th chapter of the Lance Dur webtoon.

Lance Dur and his crew (in their prime) were looking for the Elante to kill it so they could take its horns and skin in exchange for a good sum of kamas.

Cadence: “I’m so excited to see this beast! She must be so beautiful!”

Lance: “We’re not here to give her some hugs, we got told to to take its horns and skin.”

And surely enough, they found it when it was much younger (which would mean this event occurred earlier in the Wakfu era).

That’s when they meet the young osamodas girl who has been staying in Coqueline’s island. Granted, the little girl never introduced herself as the official guardian of the island but it is still rather odd that she is staying here on her own without any supervision.

Unnamed osamodas girl: “I present to you all her majesty the Elante!”

Unnamed osamodas girl: “Last of her kind!”

Some people have already made the correlation that this little girl is Yrehn before the Waven era but I would have to disagree for multiple reasons.

When we compare the little girl’s and Yrehn’s designs side by side, we see a lot of differences.

1- The little girl has yellow eyes while Yrehn has blue eyes.

2- The little girl only has one horn situated at the back of her head while Yrehn has two horns in front of her head.

3- The little girl has bangs covering her forehead while Yrehn has a clear head (although this third point can easily be proven inaccurate since hairstyles change over time).

(They both, however, have the same round blue cheeks and eyelashes, I’ll give them that.)

I also don’t believe that this could be the same osamodas because this little girl has been alive since prime Lance dur which must’ve been at a time when the Brotherhood of the Tofu members hadn’t even met yet.

I’d personally prefer to think that the little osamodas girl we’ve seen on the Waven cover is Yrehn for the reasons below.

1- They both have horns situated in front of their heads. The only visual difference here is the younger osamodas girl’s horns being much smaller since she’s far younger.

2- They both have blue eyes.

3- They both have identical strands between their face and don’t have any bangs covering their foreheads.

4- They both prefer to tie their hair high up.

5- They both hold staffs and use them as their main weapons.

All those similar designs lead me to believe that they are the same girl but the waven crew must’ve taken the little osamodas girl out of the waven cover to preserve her for Bestiale only. And unlike the other osamodas girl from the Lance Dur webtoon, this osamodas being a child at the beginning of the Waven era matches perfectly well with how the timeline is supposed to be in Bestiale. Since Yrehn looks to be in her late teens in an era where people have gotten used to the wave’s collateral damages, it would make sense that she’d be a kid when it all began.

However, there is also another possibility to consider: the design of the osamodas girl in the Waven cover must’ve simply been Yrehn’s concept art and the crew decided to use that osamodas to make her.

So in short, here are three possibilities as to which osamodas guardian used to be Yrehn as a child.

1- Yrehn is the osamodas girl from the Lance Dur webtoon.

2- Yrehn is the osamodas girl from the Waven game cover.

3- None of the above. The osamodas girl from the Waven game cover has been removed because her design had been used for Yrehn’s.

Either way, finding out if she was indeed one of those little girls isn’t important, I just wanted to point out the similarities they all shared as well as how many girls Coqueline had given the guardian job to.

Looking back on what we've got for Bestiale so far, it all seems promising.

We do not have a release date for the series so far but we do know that it’s in production at the moment. The news of Bestiale has been known since 2023 so there's a good chance we won’t be seeing it anytime soon.

It just looks like we’ll have to wait and see what kind of new information we’ll be getting in the next ADN upload.

[manueillustrations]

FR- Coqueline et Gob-Gob, de Wakfu ^^

Note: Un soir, en racontant une histoire à ma fille,  j'ai utilisé Gob-Gob pour agrémenter l'histoire. Une super peluche que ma chère complice a offert à ma fille pour Noël. Ça m'a inspirée de dessiner Coqueline.

EN- Coqueline and Gob-Gob, from Wakfu ^^

Note: One evening, while telling a story to my daughter, I used Gob-Gob to enhance the story. A great stuffed animal that my accomplice gave to my daughter for Christmas. It inspired me to draw Coqueline.

[cr1ngezone]

Farewell, loving home.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Screenshots of Episode 13 of Wakfu Season 3

Outside of battle, the newest member of the Sadlygrove family proves himself to be something quite special indeed, before everyone rejoins once more on the main stage for the final showdown.

Outmatched and out of time, one ultimate sacrifice ensures that our heroes live another day. It was a sacrifice made out of love... But...Is it all really as good as it seems in the end? 

For a realm of Gods, Inglorium seems...Empty.