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The Cursed Heiress, Chapter Fourteen: Welcome Home

Author’s Notes:

After many months, and that entitled person who we shall not name making me doubt my place here and if people truly cared for my work, I have decided to fo my best to stop caring and just enjoy this journey, because I consider this series my life’s work, and my biggest pride, and if you don’t like it, well, idk why you’re here.

This series for several reasons will be +16. Reader discretion is advised

English is not my first language, so please forgive any typos/grammar mistakes

In case this is your first time finding this series, here’s the masterlist

Summary: With the world in the edge of war, Joanna takes her closest allies to Dracaria, where they’ll train and take a new step into their relationships, and uncover what the Gods have in store for them.

Rating: M (kissing, mild violence)

Word Count: 13.0k

Reading Time: 30-40 mins

When they arrived, all of their mouths were wide open! The houses were high, 20 meters high. Witches, wizards, children and baby dragons ran around as four towers secured the city from corner to corner, showing a hill and long stairs, where a royal palace showed up in the clouds. The streets were white and purple, some buildings gold. Up to the north, there was three passages. Each of them with names written in silver. Vescovi, Ellarious and Crochane. Many kids already let see their marks: tails, horns, skins of animals, claws, even colored skins and much more! Many people looked at them skeptically, whispering the word ‘mortal’ with disgust. Who could blame them? Their race has burnt down witches and wizards all over the centuries. They were in all their right to hate them.

Joanna halted them as they saw how from a golden portal emerged a woman with serious features, middle-aged and her hair white like the Light magic. Her mark was her purple eyes, blinding everyone. All the people bowed down to her as Joanna greeted her and then knelt down to her. They did the same, showing respect.

“Aunt Nene. I am glad to see you again.”

“You’ve brought company.” She observed.

“Aunt Nene, may I present you Mr. Ernest Sinclaire of Ledford Park, Imperial Prince Hamid of the Ottoman Empire, Mr. Luke Harper, Nighthunter and Miss Annabelle Parsons of Hazelvale Manor?”.

“Hm. They’re nice to look at. I take you came here to train them to take down that traitor?”

“I am.”

She looked at them skeptically.

“We are.” Mr. Sinclaire assured her.

“Then come in. You must be starving!” The portal widened.

Mr. Sinclaire grimaced “I don’t truly think it’s necessary to—AAAH!”

Miss Parsons broke in giggles as she witnessed how Joanna rolled her eyes at Mr. Sinclaire’s complaint and kicked him in the butt, sending him flying to the portal! Prince Hamid chuckled as Mr. Harper shook his head.

“Anyone else who wishes to complain?”

One by one, they entered to the portal. As the first time, the only one to land gracefully was Joanna. She breathed the air she missed dearly as the others’ eyes went wide! There was a perfect portion of sun that illuminated everything and a wide garden. Animals of all type were there: mermaids in a huge lake, dragons flying, witches who were maids, some kelpies, faeries, centaurs, Pegasus, pixies, some ghosts, gnomes, adorable trolls, satyrs… Up in the sky, there were witches flying, but without brooms.

“Like what you see?” Joanna smirked “I know: this state would put on shame Duke Richards and many, many other states. Wait until you see the gardens and the rooms prepared for you all,”

Mr. Sinclaire’s graze peeked onto a big, tall grass expanding far wide. Some pixies looked at him and giggled, while he heard of someone singing. He stopped Joanna and flushed before sputtering the question “Joanna, the thing is that, ah… Would you… show me the garden? For old time’s sake?”

Her blue eyes flickered on him before breaking into a smile “I’d love to, but first, have something to eat. You will need your stomach full if you are to witness the gardens.”

He nodded before accompanying her to the grand hall, full of paintings of the history of witches: Lilith creating them, the Garden era, their golden age, the witch-hunts in the 1200s, the wars… Everyone was speechless with the golden and white stone of the big castle. Joanna started to explain “This white stone is the very same stone that the Parthenon, while the gold was a present from the mother of a dead emperor that crowned my mom Empress in the 1400s and the banner is the symbol of the family. The witches have a very good relationship with the elves and orcs, although we have grown distant of humans, who once helped us to save the world… Damn Church!” She cleared her throat “Anyways, if you’d like to see the kitchen…” She led them to a big, beautiful arched door, like the very same of the Spanish’s Alhambra “It is said that Muslims and witches were once allies and my mother was the favorite courtesan of a Sultan whose name I cannot recall, but it was in the 1300s though. She helped him design the Alhambra.”

“Your mother was a… courtesan of a Sultan?” Prince Hamid asked, in awe with the tale.

“Of the whole harem, but the Sultan fell in love with her in a rather erotic way and held a permanent claim on her. Even though, she didn’t say much about it and I didn’t really want to hear how my mother held sexual relations with a mortal man, so…”

“Oh, right.”

“She was also an Empress?” Miss Parsons asked.

“Yep! And a wanderer, pirate queen, conqueror, adventurer, hired assassin, High Mage, priestess, …”

“That’s such an incredible life! Being able to try all these things… if she wrote a memoir, I’d read it!” Prince Hamid beamed.

The kitchen wasn’t much, just the needed stuff and some servants working without anyone needing to boss anyone around “These servants have been with us since the Earth was created. They’ve been serving our family since then and their generations have not failed us. They’re the reason this mansion stands” She smiled at them “Renata, Arwen, please make the special guest supper for my guests.”

“Yes, ma’am.” They chant as they start working.

Beyond the hall there was a staircase with five doors at its sides and then at the center. Each of them had names carved on it, some of them glowed and some others didn’t.

“In those doors are the names of the former owners of the rooms. The ones that glow means that the owner is alive, since its magic is still in their system and the other ones are the ones who are dead. May the Goddess be with them.”

They all went silent to pay respects to them and proceeded to go to the dining room, just as grand and impressive as the other rooms: some plants, a fine red wine carpet and a very large desk where at least 50 people could fit in. The desk was a fine, polished wood with a pyre for the fire and portraits of the many heads of the house, in which one of them was Odessa: blonde with imposing, cold green eyes and sitting on a throne with a beautiful and revealing silver dress, her legs crossed and the symbols of the Head of the High House there. There was one space that was empty “That space will soon have my portrait when I take over the House. It is a great honor to accept and I couldn’t reject it. I’ve been waiting for this moment a long time and I’m close to reach my goal.”

“What about Edgewater?” Asked Miss Parsons.

“… A very good question.”

After supper and some shared laughs, Mr. Harper looked at Joanna, teaching Mr. Sinclaire some witch etiquette as Prince Hamid and Miss Parsons shared some laughs and whispers.

“I will be in the stables to watch the Pegasus and help out the orcs. I wouldn’t mind some company though,” He caught Joanna looking at him and he held her graze before dashing towards the stables, where Joanna’s dragon and a baby Pegasus played chase. He chuckled as he watched out the hungry kelpies and other elder Pegasus, from the time of the Gods. He fished his fiddle and started playing, his mind, body and soul playing about Joanna: her fiery looks, her delicacy, her bravery, her open and wide mind, her focused mind when she casted a spell and transformed into a panther… His fingertips played about this little woman who changed his entire life, his way to see things.

He was sure she was the one, but he knew better than trying to ask Princess Joanna Crochane to tie the knot with him… or any other man.

Joanna was a free spirit, maybe too free for her own good in these times. She was too much of herself to belong to anybody, but somehow, she belonged with the four of them: each of them were the piece of a puzzle that had its function separated, but if you pulled together, it’d turn out as a powerful, strong and invincible piece of art, like those paintings of wars and glory. He wouldn’t be surprised if people spoke of Joanna Crochane during centuries. He knew he wouldn’t live to witness it, but he was confident of it nevertheless.

“Penny for your thoughts?” The feminine voice that his heart yearned for interrupted his thread of thoughts.

“Nothing interesting or that you aren’t aware of.”

Joanna smiled for a moment before looking at him with a stern look “Are you nervous for the battle that is being prepared?”

“I’m more nervous about the end of it, what will be for us… especially…”

“Especially?”

“You and I.”

Joanna’s face fell “Luke… I—You know it’s not that simple. I want to see the world and you have a life here and I—” She choked a sob “You’re a mortal, Luke. We cannot be together; the laws forbid it.”

“You told me once that you wanted to make an impact, be historic. Change the law, Joanna. You’re the Goddess of the Peace!”

“These laws are made by reasons, Luke!” She got up; her fists made balls.

He followed suit, looking at her “Joanna, don’t you get it? It’s be a privilege to me to die knowing that I had the great honor of having a lifetime with you!”

“That’s the thing, Luke! I don’t want a lifetime with you! I want to be selfish and be with all of you all over the eternity, but I cannot make the mortals immortals of all sudden! That, and it’s clear that you’re happy as a mortal! You… we can’t. You must forget about me after this, marry a nice lady and have the gift of having children. The lifestyle I offer is not a stable one, Luke!” She sobbed “After this, I will erase everyone’s memories and I will be an old wives’ tale.”

He grabbed her face but she pushed him, avoiding contact, but he didn’t give up. He took firm steps towards her and cupped her face in his hands “Joanna, no matter what you do or say, I will never forget about you. I will always find a way back to you. I will be your most devote admirer and my heart will always belong to you, for life is not the same without you. You’ve brought a light in my life and I ache to have you, at any cost,” He whispered the next words against her lips “You may never be mine, but I will always love you, Joanna. In life and in afterlife, always and forever.”

They stood there, breaths ragged, hearts thumping against the other’s chest, not daring to move. When he was about to pull back, her hands reached his neck and kissed him eagerly and passionately, devouring his mouth as the only thing she craved for.

He gasped, surprised by it, but then melted into her touch, cherishing her lips, feeling like he was flying. In a second, he was pinned against the wall, making him laugh low, pulling Joanna as close as he could. He sunk his fingers in her red hair, tugging it in a way that made her moan, his mind racing fast and his heart threatening to get out of his chest.

“Joanna… my beloved Joanna.”

“Luke,” She cooed, her hands gripping his shoulders.

He changed positions, pinning Joanna against the wall, kissing her with all of his hunger and yearning, his hands tracing her whole body, repeating her name against her lips, her cheek, her jaw, her neck… He felt her shudder and he hummed, feeling how her hands gripped his back.

“Joanna… I—.”

“Shhh, not yet. Don’t ruin it.”

He nodded before gasping when her legs wrapped around his waist. He flushed a bit before she drew him towards her, kissing him again and again.

After letting go of Mr. Harper’s grasp, she sneaked behind Mr. Sinclaire and smiled at him, inviting “You up to check the gardens?”

“I’d love nothing more.” He offered his arm and she snorted before accepting it with an eyeroll, walking towards the gardens.

The night fell in the landscape, making the scene a bit more romantic. Joanna gazed at the gentleman at her side, grazing at the scene before him. She led him to the backyard, where the leaves were as tall as Mr. Sinclaire himself. He smelled them and nodded to himself “This reminds me of my grandmother. She always had a fondness for nature—.”

“I know. I remember, Ernest”.

“You… you do?” He asked.

“Of course I do. It was a very interesting topic. The more I met you, the more I doubted that you talked about your family to just anyone.”

“That’s… certainly true. She would’ve envied your gardens.”

She chuckled as she winked at him “Watch this trick that my mom taught me.”

She closed her eyes in concentration and dropped on her knees, her hands on the fresh dirt and channeling her faerie magic, the ground glowing in her palms as the amber magic ran all over the place and some enormous trees and other different, big plants grew, going up and fresh green! Some nymphs and pixies cheered as they enjoyed the plants. Mr. Sinclaire was in awe.

“My lady, this is… the most beautiful landscape I have ever witnessed.”

She looked far as she whispered to him “You have a visitor.” She announced.

He raised both eyebrows before the ghostly figure stepped in front of him, looking at him. His eyes went wide! An elder woman, with her hair gathered into a perfect bun looked at him, giving him a warm, welcoming smile “Ernie, my boy.”

“G-grandmother?”

“The very same one. Look at you, following your father’s footsteps. What a man you have become, my boy.”

“Grandmother… I-I’ve missed you,” He confessed.

The woman approached him and ran a hand over his cheek “As have I, my boy. So much. But you shouldn’t be fretting over me and your parents anymore. We’re at peace and in a better place, and we’re so proud of the man you have become.” She caressed his cheek and he leaned on her touch, like a starved boy for love “I know you want to be with us, and you will, but not too soon. You have so much ahead of you, my boy. The world is in your hands, grab it. Don’t be afraid to live, to feel. If you’re joining us, it’ll be when you’re old enough and have lived your life, alright?”

“I will do my best to make you all proud up there. I promise.”

“Ernie, you already have.”

He reached for her hand, but she already vanished.

A small tear rolled on his cheek and he wiped it, sniffing and taking deep breaths. Joanna approached him carefully and placed a wary hand on his shoulder “She’s right, you know. They’re all proud of you. I am proud of you.”

His head whipped towards her, a small smile on his face “Then everything I’ve done hasn’t been in vain.”

She got on her tiptoes to kiss his forehead before whispering him “Let’s go find your room. You’ll be very comfortable there.”

Joanna led him to his room, their footsteps barely sounding as the quiet and illuminated manor by witchlight.

Mr. Sinclaire was in awe with the big manor that didn’t seem to have an end. After what he’s seen, he could get lost in that manor for weeks! Joanna opened the door and showed the biggest bedroom his eyes have ever witnessed. The room was as big as his bedchambers in Bath, London and Ledford Park together. There was a fountain in a wall, a big chandelier with loads of books, the roof was arched and with painting of the Greek Gods, the walls were white, navy blue and golden, the bed was held up high, stairs in it, the floor was made of wood on one half and on the other, white marble like the Acropolis, a wall full of flowers: Forget Me Not, roses, lilies… The room had a magical essence, words could not describe it.

“Well?” Joanna asked “Do you like it?”

“You have a beautiful room, Your Highness.”

“I like it better when you call me My Lady…” She smirked.

He looked at her and he flushed pink.

She smiled at him, her face glowing with so much magic inside of her, she seemed to thrive. Her dress was beautiful: it was white, with a big V on her chest and a soft, transparent silk that revealed her curves and her hair was let down, ginger curls kissing her sides. Mr. Sinclaire’s pulse quickened, his hands itching to touch her skin, but he contained himself. He cleared his throat and saw a desk with many liquors. He served himself one and drank the witchy liquor, a soft, burning caress going down his throat.

“You know how to decorate a room… my lady.”

“It was all my ancestors. One of them was descended by a priestess of the Light, an ancient form of magic. Her name is based on my aunt Nya. People said she was quite a beautiful woman, and also a very powerful priestess. She made history with her group of adventurers. It was the first time that elves, orcs and humans worked together to take down a common threat, the Shadow Court they were named. I think I have a tapestry over here…” She searched all over the room until she held the tapestry triumphant. In there, it showed a lady orc with a powerful armor, followed by a blue elf with magic hands, another orc lady with a pair of throwing axes, a man with his weapon of choice, his hair long, brunette and down and the priestess, blue magic in her glowing hands, her tan skin and pink hair down, showing her glory. They all faced a magical being, a big man made of a strange skin with big glowing eyes. They all faced him.

“That bad man? He’s called the Dreadlord and his pupils. They all destroyed him together, showing the society that they would only end that threat once and for all together, as one. Their names are carved in here. See?” He saw those names in the wooden remark: Yennefer of Riverbend, Mal Volari, Imtura Tal Kaelen, Tyril Starfury and Nia Ellarious “It was many centuries ago. My mother was too young and weak to participate. She was just 93 years old.”

“How old was your mother?”

“794 years old when she died. She was born in 1022.”

“How long can witches live?”

“The average is a millennium or two. Many witches end their lives when they’re too tired of living here or go to another world to live a different life. Some others give up their magic, which leads them to age so rapidly they suddenly die.”

Mr. Sinclaire grimaced “Immortality can be horrible. I think I like being mortal, living the best I can and then dying of old age. I wouldn’t want to live watching the world evolve and age, but I’d never age.”

“May I tell you a secret?”

He nodded as she snapped her fingers and they were on the queen-sized bed, the sheets so fluffy and soft that he felt light. She leaned on him and whispered “I’m afraid of death. I just hate the idea of living few years and then going to a place or another after I die. I’d like to see the world evolve, even if I don’t age. I’d like to see what humanity can do, if the prejudices are redeemed… I never seem to find a partner willing to live with me until this world ends.”

“Who did you have in mind?”

She looked at him, her light blue colliding against navy, her hand caressing his hair, then down his cheek and down his neck. She came close to him, her hands touching his boarded shoulders, making him shiver. She bit her lip as she looked at his lips “Take a wild guess.”

He was about to say something when her lips caressed his shyly, observing him. Next thing he knew, he had his arms snaked in her waist and back and replied the kiss, now their lips colliding, fire on fire. Her hands went to his back and hair, muffling in delight as her lips devoured his, grabbing just right his hair as he opened his mouth to her, their tongues dancing a sensual dance. He moaned.

“I take this is to your liking…” She teased.

He begged her closer, kissing her with need, with yearning as his fingers tangled in her soft hair, pulling her in his lap. She grabbed his hair and her other hand travelled to his neck, where she begged him even closer, thing that drew of him the most guttural sound she’s ever heard out of him. Her tongue explored his mouth and he hummed with delight, his pulse as fast as hers. She is such a good kisser, Ernest shudders with pure pleasure and lust. He wonders where and how she mastered it, but once her lips find his again, it is excruciatingly divine to be able to see for himself that he had daydreamt about since the carriage, her only cloth the soft linen nightgown that could give him a glimpse of how her skin might feel against his. She bit his lip, making him shudder as he kissed her jaw and collarbone, thing that made her sigh as she pinned him to the bed, her fiery blue eyes looking at him hungrily.

“You want me to stop?”

“No,” He replied, voice hoarse.

She kissed him with so much passion, so much yearning and the right pressure of her hands in his that he trembled, itching to touch her. She kissed his neck, her tongue finding that spot that made him feel like he was in heaven. He moaned again as her lips found his again. Her lips teased expertly that area, her tongue licking the sensitive area, drawing of him a pleasurable grunt as his hands found her backside and begged her even closer, which drew a small moan out of her, her lips and cheeks red and swollen, her pupils probably blown and her breath ragged and short. Her hand goes to his chest and presses into it as she kisses him, a searching him of making him vulnerable before her, her touch soft and gentle despite the thoughts that reeled her mind. She whispers his name and a delicious chill run over his skin, her tone lustful. How he wished for her to utter those words. How he longed to be taken by her. How he burned to be hers, and only hers, forevermore. How he wished to lose himself on her embrace until he could no longer feel his soul. Even if it killed him, even if the world was about to end, all he asked for was to be claimed by her. He may be mad, but he was more than glad to be mad for her, and her alone.

Then, of all sudden, she retreated herself from him, looking away, embarrassed.

“Joanna? I’m so sorry, have I gone too far—,”

“It’s not you! It’s… Sometimes… I tend to lose control.”

She bit her lip as she looked at him in the eyes, now glowing amber. He caressed her cheek and murmured; his eyes locked on hers “Joanna… Don’t be ashamed. They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful”.

She seemed to smile for a moment before kissing him again, now a soft one, her lips with the taste of cherry and strawberry against his, caressing her face, murmuring her name, basked in her essence, his only thought Joanna.

He felt so free, so careless, so happy. He was laying in the best bed he had tested in the most beautiful realm with the most beautiful woman his eyes have never witnessed on the top of him, kissing him. He smiled, he smiled so widely he felt his heart explode with happiness.

“Joanna, I—,”

She placed a finger on his lips “Shh, don’t ruin it.”

He nodded before kissing her again, taking in this exclusive moment.

After leaving Mr. Sinclaire there to rest, she walked towards Prince Hamid, who she found in the dining hall, observing and analyzing the portraits.

“Wondering how mine will be?”

He looked at her with a beaming smile “Something like that,” Then, he became a bit serious and looked at her with concern “Hey, we haven’t gotten the chance to talk about your father… how are you holding up?”

She looked down to her boots “How am I expected to feel? Part of me wants to cry and scream and kick like a child, part of me is begging me to hold it together and be the bigger person and own the fact that I am an orphaned heiress. A damned one no less.”

“My lady… may I hug you?”

“…Please.”

He wrapped his arms around her and she hugged him tightly, sobbing silently, hiding her head on his chest. He drew small circles on her back, reassuring her silently that he was going nowhere and he’d be there.

She broke up the hug and cleared her throat “Ahem. There’s something I wish to show you. Come.”

He frowned at the sudden change of heart, but followed her nevertheless. He had to admit, he was rather intrigued of what she had to show him.

Along the passages and halls and different wings of the enormous castle—the biggest one he ever witnessed—they came to a small staircase that went upstairs. She came up and he followed, and felt a cold chill caress his tawny skin. He couldn’t believe his eyes: it was a big observatory; with gadgets he’d never seen before and with a spacious balcony to observe the stars! His eyes went wide and he chuckled “My lady, this is incredible!” He approached one big black screen with something that he could not describe. Joanna chided him not to touch anything or her astronomer would get mad at her for destroying his work—95 years of work to be exact.

“We’ll have time to show you all the gadgets—fun’s that way.” She signaled the balcony and she leaned against it, the cool air caressing her red hair. He leaned beside her, a small smile on his eyes.

“Do you realize where are we?”

“I think so.”

“In another dimension. Nearer other planets than Earth,” she turned around, facing the sky. She signaled a blue dot “See that one? That’s planet Earth.” She signaled a white, bright dot “That’s the Sun.”

She signaled him each of the most noticeable dots—and some stars that were visible on there than on Earth—and he listened intently, beaming at the beautiful sight. He was close to the Moon and Venus! She also told him that the castle’s Seer foretold that the human man would reach the moon on the 20th century—the Dracarians reached it long ago, in the 1300s on earth!

“My lady, may I ask which year is here?”

“Well, for humans, it’d be 2004, but we have each part of the years to come on Earth: the streets have the look of 1944, and our castles are as well conserved as 1455.”

Prince Hamid listened intently to her descriptions of the castle: it was one of the first buildings to be built and had an army underground that works at the will of the High Commander, the only one who knows the spell that can wake them. The city was famous for the Temple of the Goddesses, where everybody—Joanna included—worshipped the Three Goddesses who blessed and chose the land. There was also the Magical Parliament –though it was nothing compared to the English Parliament—that was divided in four chambers: The Chamber of Women—where their rights, necessities, etc. were heard and made sure came to mind to the monarch. The Chamber of Men, the same as the women, the Chamber of Children and Chamber of Minorities, where people of color, homosexuals, and such also defended their rights and made sure they had a living too. Her personal favorite was the Clockglass, the clock of the city, that was very ancient and made by ancient magic. But her most favorite place was the Eye of the Gods’ temple, a present of a Mayan priest to the founders of the empire, where an Oracle was hidden in the depths of the cave, guarded by a priestess and an accountant--Hamid commented how similar it was to Delphi. The hippocampus is their sacred animal, for it led to the founders to victory in winning their land.

“Your family history isn’t certainly boring!” He commented.

Joanna sighed “It has some bumps in the road, though.”

“Every family does.”

“Well, not when the oh-so-perfect aunt elopes with a mortal man to marry him and comes back pregnant of him and is locked up and shunned when the baby is born for seventy-five years.”

Hamid’s eyes went wide “That’s horrible! I—thought that witches couldn’t bear children…”

Joanna sighed “No, but Nya discovered the dangerous and prohibited spell to give up your powers and that’s how she became pregnant of my cousin, Fenris. Him and I are the only ones who were born the way you mortals are. The others are born via magical conceiving.”

“And how is that?” He asked, curious about this whole new world.

Joanna chuckled “Well, the mother and father provide something that makes them, them and both bathe it in the Pyre of Birth, where they wait a month for the spell to take effect and then, they are called by the child’s magic—especially if it’s a firstborn, they are usually the most powerful breed—and well… that’s how babies are made here.” She shrugged.

Hamid was awestruck with how things were done here “I must see one of these!”

Joanna frowned “Only family can attend. It’s a rather private ritual.”

“Oh! Of course. I understand. It’s like I ask to attend someone’s birth…”

“Just so.”

They chuckled before looking at each other, to then look away. Prince Hamid’s eyes wondered often to her lips and neck. He couldn’t deny that he had daydreamed too often of kissing Joanna, to have his fingers caress that magnificent hair--the most beautiful red he had ever seen—to kiss her neck and bring her closer, to perhaps have her on his bed, to worship her like the goddess she was… he thought himself for weeks mad: he couldn’t be so besotted by a woman he met a month ago! Even his elder sister, Nesrim, had chided him for it, but once they shared that moment on Edgewater, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. The more time he spent with her, the more certain he was that he was falling in love with her each passing day.

Joanna was unlike any individual he had crossed: her boldness, open mind, passion and sense of justice drew her to him; not to talk about her regal looks: that majestic red hair, like small flames against the cold world, her piercing blue eyes, her white, nearly porcelain skin, her well built and lithe body that had proved to make the most graceful and complex maneuvers he had ever witnessed… he just liked everything about her. He was certain that he wished to be with her for the rest of his life.

“What do you know of the moon?” She asked to break the high tension between them.

“I know it’s the companion of the Earth, the responsible of giving light to the dark of the night, and that it’s unique. There are some kinds of holes in there and that she has many shapes depending on the day. Many civilizations—,”

“—Relied on its course to tell the time of the year, yes. I’ve studied them.” She smiled at him warmly. He smiled at her back widely. Her cleverness and quick wit was something he loved: she kept him on his toes and made him sure that they were kindred spirits. She knew what he was talking about, but the best of it was that she was interested in what he had to say and paid full, genuine attention to it. He felt like he could talk to her about the deepest musings of his mind and she’d indulge him the best takes of hers.

“I’ve forgotten how clever and wise you are, my lady.”

She chuckled mockingly “Why, Your Highness, I’m offended. That is my best trait!”

He laughed loudly, waking a few small creatures that Joanna said were pixies. He apologized to them, but they threw him a vase and he had to dodge. He grimaced “They have quite a temper.”

Joanna shrugged “They just don’t like to be woken up in their sleep schedule. They consider it rude.”

“I’ll keep that in mind before doing any noise then.”

She chuckled briefly, then looked at the sky and then extended her hand “How about if we visit it?”

He looked at her intrigued “Visit what?”

“The moon.”

His eyes went wide and gasped “Is it… possible?”

Joanna smiled proudly “I’m powerful enough to take you there and keep us both there for a considerable period of time.”

He laughed, baffled before he took her hand and kissed it “It’d be a dream come true!” He beamed.

“Say the word and I’ll make it happen.”

“Joanna, I beg you, take me to the moon.” He pleaded.

“Take my hips, stay close to me and trust me… you’ll be safe.”

He did as commanded, her petite but strong body against her, his breath short and excited for the journey, he nodded and he started levitating! He gasped but then felt such a sense of freedom and peace, he relaxed on her arms. And he couldn’t know of a safer place.

Joanna took his hands and placed them over her waist and whispered in his ears “Believe in me,”

Hamid chortled “If I haven’t believed in you, I wouldn’t have followed you to this magical citadel.”

Joanna smiled at him before jumping together… to find themselves in a rather familiar place…

Luz, yo quiero ver luz

Poder pintar de color un nuevo amanecer

Vivir, amar,

Sentir y saber que

“Allah sabe me… this is the Solar System! We’re in the space!”

Joanna smirked “In a certain part of the space,”

Hamid looked at the big sphere, full of land and water and ice at its peak. He stuttered “Is that… it can’t be… but how?!” He was so awestruck. Then, he gasped and looked around “Where are we, exactly, Joanna?”

“The Moon,” Her finger pointed down the floor, where indeed, his feet were stepping over the moon! Hamid could hardly believe himself.

“I’m—this is—oh, when I tell my sisters—this is—,” he paused to look at Joanna, a beaming smile on his face “You remembered. To be able to witness the first man to step on the moon,”

“How do you feel?”

“I feel… I feel… words cannot describe what I feel! It’s just so…so…,”

“Well, look up.”

Hoy, puede que no salga el sol

Aunque llueva

Tú y yo sabremos bailar

Nadie nos puede parar

“Is that… the Sun?! Goodness, it’s so big! I knew it was big, but Allah…”

Then he realized that Joanna wasn’t pointing at the Sun… but a meteor shower! He could almost see where they were headed. He looked at Joanna with his charming smile and took her hand “Joanna, Lady Joanna, my sweet, would you do me the happiest man on the galaxy and concede me this dance, here and now?”

She smiled at him and took his hand, now dancing together in the rain.

We're dancing in the rain

Dancing in the rain

They danced elegantly as stars seemed to fall through the space, but their eyes were on the other, never truly looking away. Prince Hamid felt bold enough to beg her closer and she obliged, eyes locked on each other, their hearts both beating at the same rhythm.

Life, gets you every time

Open up,

You never know what you will find

You never know what waits inside

So, live

Like you'll never stop

Take this chance

And give it everything you've got

Come on and let the rhythm drop

“Have I told you how breath-taking you are, my lady?”

She pretended to think as he spun her around, begging her closer still “I don’t think you’ve even mentioned it,”

He leaned to whisper in her ear “I shall say it until my own tongue burns for saying it.”

He seemed to notice how close they were, chest to chest, their faces only inches away, her breath ruffling in the neck of his kaftan.

We're dancing in the rain

Dancing in the rain

Keep on like it's never ending

Keep on till the light of day

Keep on dancing in the rain

“My lady…”

“Yes?”

He took a shallow breath, his words fearful of disrespecting her “May I… should I…?”

Before he could utter those words, her lips locked on his shyly.

The rain, the rain

Deja caer

Deja la lluvia caer

The rain, the rain, the rain

She separated them for a brief moment before he kissed her again, now devouring her lips with the yearning and desire that consumed him in the most delicious way, his hands on her hips, begging her as close as he could afford, her thin muslin nightgown a hint of how her skin should feel against his big hands. He ventured to grab her leg and bring it to his hip, the delicate fabric uncovering it, his hand pressing into the flesh, which drew a small gasp of delight from her, her lips now confidently and expertly moving with his, a small grasp from his hair which he drew a sharp breath, followed by a grunt. Were they in his bedroom, he’d lay her on his bed, but alas, he had to work with the terrain they were on. He opened his eyes and separated for a moment as his hand went higher from the behind of her leg, where more skin accumulated, searching for a signal to stop or return where his hand was, but he only saw burning desire from her to touch him wherever he pleased, and she bit down her lip to avoid a sound to come out of her mouth “Don’t be shy.” She breathed.

Deja caer

Deja la lluvia caer

The rain, the rain, the rain

The Rain, the rain

They kissed for so long, the prince started losing track of time. Perhaps it was already morning and they had to march. Perhaps only a few minutes passed. But he was sure he had no desire to let go of her. He picked her up with ease and her legs hugged his waist, and he gasped and flushed when he realized she had nothing under her nightgown. His entire body was on fire, and the thought to have her before battle crossed his mind. If he touched her any longer, he wouldn’t be able to let her go. His mind wandered to his bedroom, and how much his body ached to be there and give in to her seduction. Her coquetry and expert lips were driving him mad. If he stayed any longer, he wouldn’t be able to control himself and he wanted their first time together to be memorable and even beautiful in terms of scenery, and this cold place was not his ideal place. He placed her down, which drew a huff from her and went back to a safe distance, breathing heavily and shaking his head, as if summoning his common sense to come back.

Dancing

“My lady… I forget myself. We must return…”

“Do you want to?” She asked, her pupils blown, just as flushed and heated as he was.

He took a deep, trembling breath “We must. Before we… before I… for your sake.”

She caressed his neck and he trembled, fighting the urge to grab her and let his hands wonder “We’ll go. But just because tomorrow morning, I need you to save the world with me.” She then kissed his cheek.

Deja caer

Deja la lluvia caer

Aunque llueva y nos mojemos

No pararemos de bailar

How he’d kill for this moment to last forever: she, with her hair down and looking beautiful, so beautiful he forgot how to breathe in her delightful presence, to kiss her and touch her forever, in a world where he was hers, and she was his.

Keep on dancing in the rain

The rain, the rain

“Let’s get back home and rest. Tomorrow, we train for war.”

When they came back and escorted him to his room, she stopped him at the door.

“Yes?” He hoped that she’d ask him to stay in his room. He burned for that question to be asked.

“I had a dream… a premonitory dream and,” she inhaled “it was an empire falling. And I… I’m nearly certain that it will be the Ottoman Empire.”

He was disappointed, but out of that feeling, he was more fearful than ever. There were already attacks on the empire, and the treaty was about to have the United Kingdom’s protection over these attacks, but if someone as powerful as Joanna feared that it might fall anyways, then he had little hope. It was too late and was working against the clock. There was a high percent that his life’s work would be for nothing, and that Joanna had to witness his work to crumble to dust.

He only worked a nod “Thank you for telling me.”

She found Miss Parsons in the parlor, trying complex Dracarian tunes at the pianoforte “I knew you’d take hold of my pianoforte as long as I left.”

Annabelle gasped at the teasing voice of the woman before she turned to look at her, smiling “I could not help it. It’s the most exquisite pianoforte I’ve ever seen.”

“It was a gift to my grandmother from Queen Anne. They both had a… curious relationship.”

“Such as?”

“Patronage, if you get what I meant.”

She flushed deep red “Oh!”

She touched the piano “It was one of the first pianos to be built and was commissioned by the queen herself for my mother as a farewell gift.”

“I did not know that your mother…”

Joanna chuckled as she sat beside her “Witches have a different perspective over sexuality and sex. They recognize several genders and don’t define themselves. Most of them, even married, have relationships with their other sexes and their style is androgynous. They don’t like labels, but does anybody like them?” She chuckled “You can be anything you wish to be and more in here, as long as you leave people be.”

She smiled “This is what I love of this place! So many possibilities… so many things I could aspire to be… so many things to do, to see, to learn…”

She smiled “Did you know that the ninety percent of the Artist’s Room paintings are made by the women in my family?”

She clasped her hands together, beaming “Oh, Joanna, I must see them all! Please, tell me I can!” She put her puppy eyes face and Joanna melted at the sight. She took her hand and led her there.

They both arrived in a big, white room where even in the night, it was still beautifully luminated by moonlight. Annabelle gazed at the self-portraits, realistic paintings, statues that were nothing like she’s ever seen before and even other artefacts that were signed and made all by women. She observed a nude statue of a woman with her hair flowing all over the place as she seemed to summon something and the material was exquisite, its cold stone soft against her palm “You didn’t tell me that the women in your family were so brilliant!”

She smirked and took her to a corner where what it seemed like a young Joanna was standing there in a portrait: her features were softer and calmer, a kind and relaxed expression laying on her face, not like the conflicted and stoic face she was used to look at. She was wearing a crown and a beautiful brocade golden dress, her hair down and with a beautiful and rich necklace hugging her small neck “That was my Anointing portrait made by the best painter here, who used to be a lover of Michelangelo. He happened to be great friends with my mother and even bonded over their relationships with men.”

Miss Parsons gasped “Michelangelo was…?”

“Fancied men? Yes. It’s quite obvious if you look closely at his work! The detail and care he had with men, and how sloppy and unrealistic women were: buff women when the norm was different? Always accompanied by men? Never married nor had any children at all?” She arched an eyebrow and smirked.

Miss Parsons was baffled by her revelations. If people on Earth knew about it, they’d call her mad and burn her at the stake. Joanna giggled “And the Jesus portrait of his? That was his lover. Jesus was, in fact, Middle-Eastern: brown-skinned and Jew. You have been praying at the image of a homosexual for two hundred years!” She doubled in laughter, but Miss Parsons didn’t, and not because she was unamused. She was processing everything that Joanna said.

If her mother, Michelangelo and perhaps many others had been with the other sex…

Could it be possible?

“Joanna,” she swallowed “have you ever been… with women… in bed?”

“I have. You surely know her, her name was Angelica Catalani.”

Miss Parsons gasped “Truly?”

She nodded “We bonded over our fondness for music and expensive wine and what a prick Napoleon was and well… we lay together.” She talked about it so naturally, as if it was normal of her.

Perhaps she feels the same?

The thought only made her flush and looked away. Her vision came upon two women kissing in Ancient Greek garments: it was titled Sappho and Aphrodite meet. The intimacy and tenderness of it caught Annabelle’s attention. She saw the author and gasped: Nya Crochane, Joanna’s maternal aunt!

“Yes, my Aunt Nya had many female lovers, more than male lovers. The last man she ever lay with was the father of her son, my cousin Fenris.”

She looked at her, completely surprised “All the members of your family had lay with people of the same sex?”

She shrugged “The majority. Some weren’t even interested in sex, since we don’t need it to conceive a child. Sex is for fun, pleasure and the sake of knowing oneself.”

“So… both men and women are infertile?” She asked.

“Only the women. Men are still fertile and have birth control. Women have it too, but not as much as men. They are fertile all year all day, so they are the ones who receive more chats, especially if they think of engaging with human women.”

Annabelle was amazed by this world. Everything about it was so perfect and magical… and Joanna couldn’t look more perfect tonight. She looked at her, grazing at the roof and she took her hand. That seemed to call her attention and she looked at her. She looked again at Nya’s painting and she took the hint. She enclosed her waist and caressed her cheek, and she grabbed her neck, like in the books she had read about romance. But she wasn’t kissing a prince. She was kissing a princess, the most beautiful and remarkable woman she’s ever met. The kiss was tender and passionate, her hands on her waist and her hair, touching it like rich velvet and whimpered in the kiss, begging for more. Joanna lifted her with surprising ease and lay her against a desk with many documents and with her hands on her hipbones, she drew her even closer, now every inch of her touching hers, the pins from her hair falling and she moaned delightedly in the kiss, her hands roaming her curves and strong shoulders, drawing small gasps and moans from Joanna, who swiveled her head to kiss her neck and jaw, her hand roaming under her dress and teasing her petticoats and pantalettes, a burning sinful tickling between her legs calling to her. She lifted her skirt to her knee, where she undid her stocking and gracefully took it off, kissing her ankle, her skin awaking gooseflesh, her hands going still up to her thighs, where no other but herself had touched her, and pressed her fingers against it, gaining a squeak and whimper of her, clutching so hard the wood of the desk, she feared she might snap it.

“Joanna…” Her voice was raspy with wanting and need. Were she to take her tight there, she wouldn’t stop her. She’d indulge her and indulge herself.

“Yes?”

“Come here and kiss me more…”

She got up and kissed her again, her strong hand on her lower back, her skirts still up and kissing her over and over again, happy and pleased. For a moment, she lost herself in her kisses and the feel of her lips on her.

Before she could even plan to place her fingers in her most sensitive area, the steps of her guards made her come back to her senses and they both bid each other goodnight and retired to bed to get their rest for tomorrow.

It would be a long day.

Ernest Sinclaire was, for the first time in his twenty-eight years of life, having a profound sleep when someone barged into the room, waking him up “What the devil?”

“Wake up, sir,” said the woman, whose voice he did not recognize but the presence felt familiar “war is upon us and neither my daughter or I are in the mood to bury you, or anyone, for the matter.”

He blinked a few times before he got his sights on the woman who awakened him: same blue eyes, but instead she had a shade of brunette hair with the blonde remaining in small parts and same poise as Joanna. Her mother. He cleared his throat and pulled the covers towards him, avoiding her to see him so exposed, which made her huff in annoyance “Don’t play prude with me, boyo, I assure you that you have nothing I haven’t witnessed in my nearly eight hundred years of life.”

That action seemed to make him pull the covers even tighter against himself. She rolled her eyes “Just be ready in twenty and meet us in the drawing room. It’s time I put you all in shape. You’re not bad, but this is not an ordinary, boring mortal battle. Oh! And make sure to eat quickly.” She tossed him an apple and he caught it before it could slip from his grasp. He nodded, a signal that he had heard and understood the matriarch and left.

He wondered how Earl Vincent didn’t die of heart palpitations of such un-subtleness and boldness.

Prince Hamid was having the most wonderful dream, he and Joanna about to kiss again when the door slammed open and he cursed his sister again for interrupting him while sleeping. What came next, was something that he’d quickly regret “I’m not your sister Inci, love. And if I were you, instead of dreaming how you’d like to go down and dirty with my daughter, I’d get up my imperial arse and begin to address me as Mistress. Now, on you get, war is upon us and there’s much to do with you.”

He gasped, full of shame. He had just cursed rather ungentlemanly in front of Joanna’s mother! “My most sincere apology, Mistress! I-I wasn’t aware that you were here. I meant no disrespect towards your—,”

She shushed him “We’ll have time for that later, now on you get, Your Imperial Highness. War is upon us and I’d hate to tell yet another Sultan that his kin is dead.”

He nodded tightly and waited until she was gone to then find the most comfortable clothes for training and rushed downstairs, where surely Joanna would be waiting for them all.

Miss Parsons was dreaming of her again. They were in a worn-out castle, flowers blooming as someone recited poetry. But her eyes were on her. They smiled at the other before leaning for a kiss, their other partners not minding at all. Their lips were about to touch when the door burst open and Annabelle groaned “Cordelia, I swear to God, you have such a way to—,”

“I’m not Cordelia, love,” said a voice she swore she should recognize “We’re out of time. Get dressed and try to come as quickly as you can. War is near and I’d hate to bury such a beauty. Now on you go!” She gasped as she tried to cover herself from Joanna’s mother, who scoffed “Come on, love, we’re women! We have the same thing, just a different size. Now quit being a prude and get dressed!”

She nodded, her cheeks bright red and started to get dressed as quickly as she could. Joanna’s mother was indeed less subtle and patient than any of her governesses or teachers.

With the group gathered, Odessa wasted no time in leading them downstairs, where at first it was dark. In there, Joanna was waiting for her companions, dressed to fight. Or at least spar a bit. The training room was massive and full of all kind of weapons and tools for training.

It was Prince Hamid who spoke up “My lady, this is truly an impressive room but… why are we here. And why has your mother told us that war is upon us?”

“Because it is the truth, Your Imperial Highness. Despite our efforts on defeating them, Elias has risen stronger and has taken over London. While my aunts are doing a formidable job by defending the city, it is only up to us to stop him, once and for all.”

“How will we do it, my lady?” Mr. Sinclaire asked.

“By killing him, how else?”

The rest winced. But Mr. Harper spoke “That powerful has he grown that you see him as a direct threat?”

“Mother, please.” Said Joanna.

Odessa put her palms together and then expanded them, giving them images of the past, memories of her ancestors ““Long ago, there was a terrible war that started when Christian the Corrupt won the throne of the empire by bloodshed and suffering. He killed faeries, vampires, werewolves, mermaids and his own people. He killed all of his brothers and made slaves and martyrs to his sisters. The youngest, who was Joanna’s age, Arabella, was the only one who didn’t take her own life or was killed by him. She was witty and knew her kingdom well, so she convinced a powerful mage to free her and she’d lead a battalion against her brother and master.

The young mage accepted, for he was the only willing to stand up to his gruesomeness. Time passed and the battalion was ready and so was the mage. He sneaked into the princess’s bedroom every night and talked about the plan, but it seemed like they fell in love and, during battle, the princess gave birth to a healthy baby boy. But Christian, full of jealousy and shame for his easy defeat, swore that every boy that was born in his sister’s family and his own blood would die, and the daughters would never get to see their children grow up.

During the rest of the centuries, and because of Arabella’s curse, many were related to her, so the war continued, even if the reason for it was dead. Until one day, my father stepped in and, alongside his friends and my mother, proposed the ultimate solution to the wars: a child born of all the blood of the breeds whose blood had been spilled as a final peacemaker with everybody. Everyone agreed, and I was chosen by the Gods to bear the next heir and peacemaker of the world, the brand-new god. All the rulers of the world had the same vision: me, with Joanna in my arms, born and strong. That mage was Elias, and the ones descending from Arabella were his family. She never had any brothers, and when Joanna had grown enough in my womb, she lifted the curse after finally avenging those who had fallen, thing that made him mad. So, he devised a plan: befriend her and manipulate her into someone dependable, weak, demure and needy. But once she met Thomas, it all went down. So he gave her a necklace with a curse: every single person who’d get too close to her or declare their love for her, would die. Joanna realized that the necklace was the problem and passed the test to see if she’d kill the man she once loved to protect her destiny instead of joining him and bested her biggest fear: herself. By saving her, Mr. Sinclaire and Mr. Harper, you activated her vampire side, and by touching you for the first time, Miss Parsons, you awoke her faerie side in the road to London. And Prince Hamid, you too had a role in this: reminding her of her humanity. All of you were destinated to meet from the moment you were borne. That is why only you can help Joanna defeat Elias.” She looked at Mr. Sinclaire, showing him how his father died by Elias’s hand “Your mother came to me the day she foresaw this and assured me of your allegiance in exchange for revenge.” She then showed Miss Parsons’s real father, old and on a throne “Your real father, Miss Parsons. Lord Elric, King of the Faeries. He’s been waiting for you a long time.” She then showed Mr. Harper’s father being blessed by ancient Senegalese Gods “Your birthright, Mr. Harper, is to restore peace among our Gods. By killing Elias, your mission will be accomplished, and your patron knew that, just as your father did when he bestowed you what should’ve been the firstborn’s birthright.” She then showed her mother’s connection to the Greek Gods, Athena blessing him “You, too, have your own birthright. To let the Greeks break free of the Ottoman tyranny and let them have a home again. Only you can make that happen, or else, the other outcome will be very gruesome, and too much blood will stain your hands.”

Her hands fell and looked at the stunned group. It was Mr. Harper who looked at her “How long have you known?”

“A week, when my mother came back. I swear, before then, I knew nothing else than I needed you four by my side. I would’ve never hidden such things from any of you.”

They all softened. Their time with the lady had proven that she was telling the truth. While some discussed with Odessa about what else she knew, Mr. Sinclaire pulled her aside “I know you may have good reasons, but have been hinting me about someone who is my own kin that’s my destiny… If there’s a stray Sinclaire who needs my aid, I beg you to tell me of her.”

She sighed “There’s nothing I’d love more… but it is not my secret to reveal. She’d get mad if I spoil her… and I gave her my word that it’d be her who delivers you the news. Just… promise me you won’t turn your back on her. She needs you, and you need her.”

He regarded her for a few seconds before giving her a nod “I shan’t pry anymore, then. If you gave your word, that’s it.”

Then, he rejoined the others. Odessa clapped her hands “Alright, gentlefolk, as I said, war is upon us and we haven’t got much time. While thirty-six thousand troops are nice, we’ll need more if we are to face the most dangerous necromancer in the world. We’ll need to master many of the ancient arts that you mortals have forgotten because three little men bitched about it being savage and unladylike. Yes, I am referring to cases such as Salem. Now, I’ll need you to form pairs. Joanna, go with Sinclaire, since you two are firstborns. Parsons and Hamid, you two are middle children, so you two go together. And don’t ask how I know it: I know all of your lives. Even the ones I shouldn’t know.” She spared a glance to Mr. Sinclaire, who looked away embarrassed. “And Mr. Harper, come with me, since you and I are the lastborn.”

“May I ask why are we getting paired by our order of birth?” Prince Hamid asked.

“Because power depends on the order you are born. Mr. Sinclaire was the first and only child of his parents, so he got the entire power of both his lineages, therefore, he’s the second most powerful in here. Miss Parsons and Prince Hamid are both born middle children, because he has three elder sisters and Miss Parsons has an older half-brother and other four mortal siblings. She has certain power, but not as much as Tialo, your brother. And Luke and I, being the last to be borne, have a small fraction of the power in the family. Our power comes within time and practice. Theirs,” she signaled Ernest and Joanna “comes by innate nature and boosts. The older you are by birth, the more powerful you become.”

Joanna and Ernest looked at the other and then looked away. He now understood how it came naturally to shield himself or call his power. He was by right the most powerful one, alongside Joanna.

“Alright… on guard… and… salute your opponent! Chivalry first!” They both bowed respectfully to the other “This is an Aztec form of fighting that helped my parents during the wars… now…”

During an hour, she instructed them, and all of them learned well, though both Joanna and Ernest did it flawlessly. The moment for sparring came, and soon the other couples saw how the firstborns sparred together, parrying and sparring like thunder itself, very few times getting hit or stopping to breathe. High kicks and pirouettes came from Joanna and her time learning gymnastics paid off, impressing her opponent. Though they were with sticks, it was still exciting to watch. He had the reflects of a cat and she was fast. Joanna kicked high and he grabbed her ankle, but she kicked him twice with both feet while standing on her hands and her feet made a spin and ended up four feet apart from Sinclaire, who chuckled, recovering from her kicks on the nose and chin “Not bad, my lady.” He then risked to make a spin while his dominant leg went towards her feet, but she dodged and ducked really low, her hands maintaining her position and got on her feet quickly and ran towards him, grabbing his elbows and throwing him with the weight of her back, both rolling back for Joanna to end up on the top of him with her hands on his throat and helpless against her metal grip.

“I-I y-yield.” He spoke.

She smirked and got up; thing that made everyone clap. He got up and offered his hand and she shook it “Well done, Sinclaire. You kept up just fine.”

He shrugged “I had a formidable rival.”

They both chuckled and Odessa resumed the lesson.

The next few days, she trained them in important lore of the creatures, made them learn all about weapons and sparring lessons with different partners nonstop, only stopping for water and a small apple. Hamid proved to be an equally difficult opponent, which took Joanna forty-five minutes to defeat, in an equally exciting sparring battle where both were lithe and nimble, but Hamid underestimated his charms on Joanna and was easily pinned against the wall.

Mr. Harper also proved to be strong and strategic, and she defeated him in an hour and five minutes.

One day, while the women sparred as the men munched apples and commented on their footing and exchanges, Odessa clapped her hands for attention “While we could do this for months, we don’t have much time. London has fallen and Nya and Nene need us now. You four are ready to face Elias and his army. Ready yourselves: we march at dawn.”

Mr. Sinclaire was awoken and the grooms started armoring him, the armor made of gold and some touches of advanced workmanship. He had the symbol of Joanna in his heart, the head of the panther protected by the sun itself. Piece by piece, he was being armored for the most important battle of his life. He took a deep breath and looked at himself. Surely, he’d be very difficult to strike. He wanted to live, but most of all, he wanted to show his worth to Joanna. And he suspected he wasn’t the only one. She didn’t lack suitors.

Meanwhile, Prince Hamid had been armored by an Ottoman armor of the founders of the Ottoman empire, thing that boosted his morale. He was used to be dressed by servants, but this was different. He wasn’t meeting the tsar or going to a grand ball where he’d be gifted slaved prostitutes or noblewomen, he was to go to a real battle, where everything counted. Joanna was counting on him and he desired nothing more than be the man she needed him to be a be worthy of her affections and love, though he was aware that there would be more in the line. Someone as extraordinary as Joanna would have half of the world begging to have her.

Mr. Harper had been in war, indeed, but never a supernatural one. He had fought small necromancers, but he was different. He was scared of the outcome: should he die, his dear mother would depend on his irresponsible brother, and they’d be unprotected, because he was the only one with such power. He knew what it was at stake was so much more. He hoped to prove himself valiantly to Joanna, and perhaps win her heart. He had observed how others also wanted the same, and he couldn’t blame her. Having her heart was having the entire world at your feet, and a princess that was both kind and powerful was rare. But his love for her was so much more than survival: it was genuine and he wanted nothing more than being hers at all costs, come what may, no matter what.

Miss Parsons was hardly versed in battle and such, her father insisting on raising her to be the perfect debutante and wife, much to her own chagrin. But the last few days made her feel powerful, being able to use her own power for good and freeing herself of the constant shadow of doubt and the pit on her stomach that always chased her darkest dreams. She had not dared to take it for granted and trained even at night, even if it ended up with Odessa chiding her for not resting well. Even though she was right, she had this fear… all of the boys had fought or had experience with a sword: Annabelle was new to all of this. All her life, she had been trained to be a wife and attract suitors, not stab men or throw daggers and make spells. But she quite liked this life in here, and everyone was so tolerant… she was sure her father wouldn’t miss her, he’d quickly dote on her younger sisters, who’d make their debuts the next three years and she’d be but a ghost of the past. Maybe it was better this way… “Ma’am, letter for you, from the King of Lamrian.” She nodded and saw an envelope… inviting her to court, to raise her and dote on her as a daughter of the Lord and become who she’s supposed to be… she pondered her options until she told her maid to give her paper and quill.

Joanna walked through the thick tress and scenery, dressed in a grey cloak as she avoided all security. She had been able to avoid the readying troops and was headed towards the temple she could see thanks to her feline sight.

Many pedestrians overlooked her, for she was so badly dressed they didn’t spare her another look. The night was at its highest and the march would start in a few hours. She could see some pilgrimages worship their ancient gods and other ones mourning the forgotten ones. She finally stepped in front of the temple and bowed respectfully to the accountant.

“May I see you and know your name, ma’am?”

She revealed herself and the accountant gasped before bowing to her “I have been waiting for you, ma’am. Please, follow me.”

He drove her through the white-stoned halls, crystals and seats from the temple. He opened the door where the priestess was sitting calmly on her chair, the doors that took them to the Oracle well-guarded. She bowed to her “Your Imperial Highness. I have been eager for this encounter since you were born. Please, follow me.”

She paid them more than usual so they wouldn’t tell a soul and walked through the dark cave, many bodies from all of the priests and priestesses that had served the gods of divination buried there. The priestess’s torch was the only thing that could illuminate her, but they soon approached the Oracle, a small crystal, full of mist and godly energy that she could sense.

“Tell me, Vunera, what is it that you desire the most to know?”

She took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. She closed her eyes and, after a few minutes, she pondered the question “I wish to know my destiny, and what will happen the next few months.”

The priestess touched the Oracle and its hands reached her and took her hand and she gasped as images flooded on her mind.

“Death… blood… executions… coronations… lost relatives that rise from the ashes… found family and multiple loves… you shall be reborn and will be far from home, but fear not, those close to your heart won’t give up on you. You shall be deprived from what you desire the most no matter what you choose. You will be tested by the Gods, as will your companions. Father and daughter will meet and reunite, as predestinated, and the Waited Princess shall rise. You shall have difficult challenges, but you will prevail. Your mortal rival shall meet his end by your lost kin and will meet your legacy soon enough. As for family… it shall expand wide for the rest of your days. The mortal estate’s fate will be on your hands. You will say farewell to one of your loves, but then you will be crowned empress. You shall make peace with the jealous woman and will uncover the truth of the evil man. Justice will be made. You will be happy for many years. As long as you stand on earth, it shall be protected by you, no matter where you are and until nature decides it is time for Her to step down, you shall be Her trusted guardian. And when it comes, you will be given the chance to finally rest in peace with your loved ones.”

The hands left her and she gasped before bolting uptight. She looked at the priestess and sighed. It was time she went to battle and made sure all that happened, or else… everything would go down.

“And… march!” the man cried as the Dracarian troops started marching, their gorgeous armors and strong soldiers marching through all towns and volunteers to either make justice to the deceased empress or show their support to the anointed one, arousing the attention of the folk. Many wives and daughters kissed their loved ones goodbye and many women themselves went out there, to defend alongside their fathers and brothers the nation.

The other promised troops kissed their loved ones goodbye and went to the meeting place, camping and sparring. Wolves, faeries, vampires, mermaids, witches and humans embraced as brothers in arms and drank ale and laughed at their jokes and told war stories that caught everyone’s attention, even indulged answers to the equally curious soldiers.

What was the Tsar’s purpose on the war?

How long have your species lived?

How many wars have you been called in to fight?

Is this your first time?

Do you think the Lady Joanna can win the throne?

The generals and big people observed as their troops got along. Hell, even the vampires were getting along with the wolves! This was unlike anything they’ve seen.

Humans without burning witches. Faeries getting out of Lamrian. Mermaids caring for the outside world. Wolves laughing at a vampire’s jokes. The Goddess’s magic was in the air, and there was this small hope that her cause would not be a void one.

As they strategized, they felt rather alarming footsteps. All kind of soldiers drew their weapons and the most experienced ones went to see who dared step in there… thing that made the General of Mermaids bark a laugh “Dear Poseidon… and here one thought you had been extinguished!”

“Is it too late to join Her Ladyship’s battle?”

Kamilah smiled “In you get. You’re more than welcome to our camp.” For once, the Vampire Queen smiled genuinely.

“Look, dear, the spell is really simple. Lift your best hand, summon your magic and repeat after me: luxemus auxilium! Imagine that you’re calling for Mama’s help and… now!”

The little girl closed her turquoise eyes and imagined getting anyone’s attention, repeated the words the kind lady taught her and… light came out of her hands “Luxemus auxilium!” She cried as hard as she could, the light going through the sky, as high as she could!

Nene followed closely the spell and chuckled, astounded, and after a few minutes of silence, she patted her pupil’s back “Gods… you’re real, aren’t you, girl?”

Indeed, the future Empress of the Sun just summoned easily and without burning anything the Aid for Help spell: the first spell any witch ever learned. Not even Joanna got it right the first time.

The prophecy was true: this girl and her Sun Magic would bring peace to the world soon enough.

Meanwhile, Marianna dipped her quill and started writing her will. Fully knowing that her daughter started her training in magic, soon she’d be but a kind face she couldn’t know why she kept remembering. Her time was near, and she needed to put her last affair in order… starting with her last request as a dying woman.

The door opened to find the kind Mr. Chambers, who offered her a smile. She curtsied lowly before inviting him to seat “Is something the matter, Ms. Howard? Is it the wages? If can—,”

“That is not why I summoned you here, sir. My wages are sufficient, as usual.” She took a deep breath, letting a small minute sit before she looked at the man’s eyes as she handed him an envelope “Take this to your friend Mr. Sinclaire. It is time.”

His eyes widened, but he did not deny the letter “Are you certain, Marianna?”

She looked at the window, where a burst of light came out and looked at him, her eyes tired, but determined nevertheless “I’ve had my doubts. I have pondered about it since the moment I knew I carried her in my womb. I have even hated him, but I am certain. She needs her father. She must take the opportunity to grow with Lady Joanna and be who she is meant to be. If I have learned something today, it is that you cannot escape fate. The sooner I accept it and she is with him, the better.”

He looked down, looking doubtful “If that’s your wish… I shall grant it.”

“However,” she continued “in my will, I have made a stipulation: you shall be entitled to participate in her life as her godfather and supervise her in my name. She adores you and… it is the only way I can repay your kindness towards me these past three years.”

He beamed, taking her hands on his “I am so humbled and honored… I give you my word, I shall do right by her and you. As long as I shall live, let it be long or short, I shall never abandon her willingly. On my honor.”

She smiled and kissed his hand “I know you won’t. I know no one better suited for this. I know my girl will be safe with you both.”

His face turned serious “I shall see that no one hurt her on my watch. I will joust, duel and wage war for her safety and happiness.”

She smiled at him “I know no other man that would do the same for her.”

He squeezed her hands and caressed them tenderly “I will deliver this to him myself. No matter what happens, she will always have me, come what may.”

The world felt tense itself as they kneeled in front of the shrine, praying to their respective deities. The battle was near, and they have dallied for too long. The troops were ready. The team was on their way. The sun was nearly down, bathing the battlefield in gold. Soon, it’d be bathed in red. The ordinary people were now retiring to bed. The monsters were ready to go out and feast. London was nearly covered in shadows and evil.

They finally opened their eyes and stood up: it was time. With one more prayer, they marched on the meeting point, where the golden light blinded them for a moment.

They were ready.

They had been ready for this since they were born.

And in this task, they would not fail, no matter the outcome.

They’d die before he succeeded.

#mr chambers

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