We all returned inside the manor after I gave my long-winded speech.
As we climbed the staircase, we noticed that all the paintings had been removed, creating a more serene atmosphere on our way up.
Having formally introduced myself to the head of the household, I was eager to see my son. Elaine had reassured me that the queen's finest maids were attending to Lancelot's every need, alleviating any concerns I might have had.
On the way up, I asked a maid to guide us to my son's room, and we proceeded in that direction.
Our guide, Mary, was a petite maid in her early twenties who radiates a charming presence. Her short, curly, light brown hair bounces with each step, and her bright, gemstone-like eyes twinkle behind her cheetah-patterned glasses. A vibrant green, three-petaled flower nestles above her right ear, beautifully matching her sparkling eyes.
The way she animatedly gestured with her hands while speaking added a visual flair to her expressions. Any misstep she made was met with a quick bow and a sincere apology befitting a maid of nobility. Her demeanor was gentle, courteous, and authentic, giving her a grounded and approachable aura.
"Mary, if I may ask, how long have you been working under the queen?" Elaine questioned.
"That is not a problem at all, My Lady. I, like many others, have been here since childhood. To be more specific, I have been here since the age of five and have stayed here since."
"How did you get here, Mary?" Merlin's ears bobbed as she asked.
"Probably the same way all the others have, My Lady. I was led through the forest outside the manor by an orange cat named Garfield," Mary answered without hesitation.
Mason's interest was piqued, yet he remained comfortably sprawled atop Orochi's head, his voice a low murmur as he talked to himself.
Upon hearing Mary's words, he decided to chime in: "Are you seriously saying that a cat named Garfield guided you through a mystical forest in your childhood to serve a Primordial entity? That sounds like something straight out of a fairytale."
"It may seem absurd, Sir, but I assure you, it is the truth. Garfield is a spirit in the service of Her Majesty, tasked with finding gifted individuals to serve her, or at least that is what he told me."
"Wait. "At least that is what he told me." You mean to tell me you don't even know why you are here in the first place? Doesn't that make you suspicious?" Mason probed.
"Not in the slightest, Sir. In fact, I find great satisfaction in my current life. All maids receive a reliable income and exceptional education in both academics and etiquette, along with complimentary meals, housing, clothing, water, and all other essentials. Why would I feel suspicious when I am treated so well?" Mary reflected thoughtfully.
"I-" Mason started to speak his mind, but before he could finish, his head was abruptly pushed down onto Orochi's, turning his words into a series of muffled sounds.
"I must apologize for my foolish brother's behavior. He truly means well, but he has a knack for saying things that can easily offend others," Arnold expressed with a hint of exasperation.
"Oh, it's perfectly fine! Please don't feel the need to apologize on his behalf! In fact, I appreciate candid people," Mary interjected cheerfully.
"Well, good, because Mason here has a knack for speaking his mind, even if it lands him in hot water," I chimed in, playfully roughing Mason's hair.
Mason straightened up, a carefree grin spreading across his face, "Honestly, I just don't care. If you aren't family, then you are nobody to me. Sorry, not sorry."
"Don't-" Arnold warned but was interrupted by Mary.
"It's all good! I completely understand and agree with what Sir Mason is saying. It's a legitimate perspective and a common way to approach life. Most people would likely respond similarly if asked. Oh, look! There they are!" Mary exclaimed, pointing ahead as I shifted my gaze from my guide to three maids conversing.
"Ahhhhh! Look! He fell asleep again!" the blue slime maid exclaimed with delight.
"Keep your voice down, Claire! You'll wake him!" the light green maid cautioned.
"Can BOTH of you lower your voices?!?" The last one yelled.
"Tiffany! No more yelling," the others retorted in unison.
"Is this really what the queen considers her 'finest maids?'" I mused, glancing at Mary and Elaine.
"Uh..." Elaine hesitated and was unable to respond.
"I sincerely apologize for their behavior. Claire, Sophia, and Tiffany are indeed highly capable and trained maids; it's just that their exuberance can be a bit... excessive," Mary said, bowing respectfully before summoning the three maids.
As soon as they noticed us, the trio straightened up, moving with grace and determination as they approached us. They bowed deeply and offered their greetings.
"Good evening, esteemed guests; we humbly ask for your forgiveness for our earlier conduct. We are maids in the service of the queen, fully prepared to attend to all your needs," the three maids declared with a blend of regret and impeccable poise.
"What a remarkable switch-up! You all look and act kinda proper now!" Mason snorted just as a hand landed sharply on his head.
"Please rise, my friends. Thank you for caring for my son, and I hope he wasn't too much trouble," Elaine said, motioning for the maids to stand.
"Not at all, Ma'am! In fact, he was delightful!" Claire, the slime girl, replied with a bright smile.
"That's fantastic—" Elaine began, but her words trailed off as her gaze fell upon Lancelot.
"What's the matter—" I started to ask, but my voice faltered as well.
Snugly wrapped in a cozy blanket adorned with fluffy white clouds, Lancelot had a small dark spot on his shoulder.
I moved closer, cautiously reaching out to pull the blanket down for a better look, when an unexpected shift in the atmosphere sent a shiver racing down my spine, causing me to drop to my knees.
Everyone around me crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath as a terrifying and suffocating presence drained the air from my lungs, making me clutch at my throat and struggle to utter a plea for air.
"IFRIT!" I bellowed, feeling the warmth drain from my body like a receding tide.
My vision flickered erratically, reminiscent of a candle struggling against a gust of wind.
Every blood vessel within me ignited in a chaotic blaze, unleashing a ghastly slushing noise that reverberated through my body. My limbs contorted and writhed, spasming violently as if caught in the throes of a grand mal seizure.
My fingers clawed at the ground, scraping against the now chilling marble floor spread its chilling coldness throughout my entire body.
The last remnants of air in my lungs were expelled as I unleashed screams filled with unbearable agony, echoing through the air and down the corridor.
My ears, which ruptured and burst, were drowning in the rivers of crimson blood flowing out and onto the floor, creating a pool of blood beneath me.
"HOLD ON!" A distant voice pierced through the chaos, somehow reaching my battered senses.
At that moment, the ground beneath me trembled violently, sending shockwaves through the cold marble as my body was propelled upward, crashing back down with a sickening thud, each impact producing a wet, fleshy sound as my head met the unforgiving floor.
Lancelot's wails pierced the chaos, a haunting reminder of my helplessness in despair. I felt utterly powerless, unable to rescue anyone, including myself.
In an instant, an otherwordly force bore down on my chest. A series of cracks reverberated through my body as my ribs succumbed to the overwhelming weight of this invisible assault that seemed to materialize from thin air.
'Can't I get a single moment of-?' I anguished as an explosion occurred within my chest.
'My...' I thought as a visceral explosion unfolded inside me. My heart shattered beneath the relentless burden of whatever malevolent force had targeted me.
My limbs turned to lead, falling limply to my sides, motionless as my mind spiraled into a dark abyss.
'I'm dead? But I have a child... two kids. I can't die when my life just started. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die. I can't die-' My mind spiraled as coughing could be heard interrupting my thoughts.
"At least I saved someone," I mused as my vision finally succumbed to darkness, settling into an impenetrable void.
"Damnit! How is this possible? "She" has this much power even in such a weakened state?!?" A voice filled with disbelief echoed through the corridor as two pairs of heavy footsteps approached, each step resonating with urgency.
"For daring to touch MY family, I'll see to it that I watch her body get ripped to shreds," a heavy voice declared, tinged with familiarity.
"Damnit! How is this possible? "She" has this much power even in such a weakened state?!?" A voice filled with disbelief echoed through the corridor as two pairs of heavy footsteps approached, each step resonating with urgency.
"For daring to touch MY family, I'll see to it that I watch her body get ripped to shreds," a heavy voice declared, tinged with familiarity.
"Calm down, my dear. They are not dead. Leon smartly acted before being crippled by the weight of the mark activating. Thank you for acting this quickly, Ifrit," the first voice said as the footsteps stopped just next to me.
"Naturally. My contract obliges me to do everything in my power to protect those considered 'family' to Leon. By the way, the transformation is starting to take place within him. I trust this aligns with your intentions, Christina?" Ifrit's voice crackled through the air.
"Absolutely. The boy must face death to truly evolve into a dragon. Only by confronting and conquering death can a dragonborne become a warrior worthy of being a dragon," the queen replied with an air of indifference.
"You savage, bloodthirsty beings are utterly incomprehensible," Ifrit scoffed.
"In what way? You are a being who gains beauty and strength through the experience of death. What sets us apart?"
"You thick-headed brutes live for battle while I despise conflict. Just because death has no permanent hold over me doesn't mean it should be something one should experience. Death is a truly despicable thing," Ifrit retorted.
"Depending on the situation, death might be despicable, but to others, it could be a truly beautiful thing. Let's just say we agree to disagree."
'Why are you all talking about useless things?!? Help them, please!' I wanted to call out to them, but my throat was reduced to ashes and crippled beyond repair. All I could do was bear witness as the ominous doors of death creaked open, drawing me in with an unrelenting grip that seemed to promise eternal entrapment.
As I struggled to reach out to the two next to me, an intense sensation surged through my chest, akin to the relentless beating of drums. A supernatural warmth blossomed from the remnants of my heart, radiating outward and enveloping my entire body in a cocoon of comfort and safety.
'What is happening to me? Is this the change Ifrit was talking about?'
Suddenly, small, colorful particles floated in the air, seemingly moving about without a purpose. They moved freely like the wind, gliding in the air unbound by all limitations. These tiny particles swirled and danced in clusters, coalescing and forming into familiar shapes.
Each small but joyful light particle fluttered about, dancing in the spotlight that its companions created. Shining in a mixture of red, blue, green, and brown seemed to represent one of the elements used in magic: fire, water, wind, and earth.
When a person stood beside me, an outline formed from the particles revealed the intricate details of each individual. Depending on the type of magic they used, each person had the same elemental particle cling to them like a lost and helpless child. The plump and plentiful lips and eyes of the nearby people shone in the light of the particles. Their skin and hair lightly glistened in the particles dazzlingly light. Each person in my new "vision" shone brightly like miniature suns or loud spotlights.
Well, all but one were gifted the beautiful and captivating brilliance of the particles.
The one who wasn't was Lancelot, who was the polar opposite of colorful. He had dark, evil, malicious, and aggressive black motes swarming him like an agitated bee hive. These small orbs were colorless, as if their soul was erased, producing no lights and seemingly consumed with depression. They sporadically moved in circles, jagged lines, and any other imaginable way as they, whether meaning to or not, encased Lancelot in something similar to a cocoon.
This cocoon was unstable and had no definitive shape. Instead, it was ever-changing, with small, visible openings that disappeared as quickly as they appeared. The way the dark, lifeless orbs orbited close to my son seemed suffocating and disturbing, like a swimmer drowning in a rampant river current at night. They had a firm, unyielding hold over him, trapping him in deafening darkness that slowly was nearing its deadly spikes of doom like an Iron Maiden.
Yet, not all hope was lost. With my newly acquired "Vision," I saw something that sparked the flames of hope: Mason, Arnold, Elaine, the four maids, my son Lancelot, Merlin, and I were all sprawled on the ground, writhing under the immense weight of the pressure that bore down upon us. Amidst this turmoil, a radiant flame hovered above us, its tendrils intertwining with each of us, pulsating as red liquid pumped into our bodies.
'Thank you, Ifrit.'
Christina and my brother Sam had just arrived. Both exuded a palpable aura of divine mastery over mana. Every aspect of their being was infused with an extraordinary strength that seemed to defy the very laws of nature. With each step they took, the surrounding mana trembled violently as if an earthquake had erupted in our midst.
"I understand that no one is dead. However, I will ensure that I return this attack billionfold, even if I have to do it beyond the grave," Sam, my eldest brother, declared, his voice laced with unrestrained fury.
"Don't say such things, my son! I cannot lose you as-" Christina implored, her voice heavy with sadness.
"You are well aware, just as I am, that every living being faces death in the end, and I am no different. My time will arrive after I take down that despicable bastard who dared to threaten MY family. He started this, and I am determined to end it. What happens after my time is for my brothers and the generations that follow to handle, so I have passed down my knowledge to them. I have trained numerous individuals who possess the potential to exceed my abilities, a realization that, while it stings my pride, is nonetheless the truth. My gut tells me that I will not see the conclusion of this war, but my teachings will, and my brothers will be among the finest to carry them forward...
Now, regarding the "mark," who has it? Is it one of the maids? No, it can't be... Alpha? Ah, I understand now. Interesting. How the hell did you end up like this? Are you the one foretold in the prophecy?" Sam whistled.
"The prophecy? Are you speaking of the one from the Sage?" Ifrit asked.
'Who could he possibly be referring to?' I pondered. Even with this newfound "vision," I was left in the dark about what my brother was talking about.
"I believe so. Granted, even if he weren't, we wouldn't be able to know because "The Weaver" is a being who likes not to share too much information. It is a neutral entity that guides those with heavier fates toward their predestined path. Whether the child is or isn't the child of prophecy, we must treat him like he is," Christina remarked with a somber tone, inhaling deeply before I noticed a set of footsteps shifting around me, precisely 2.35 feet to my left.
'How did I know the exact distance? When did I develop such acute sensitivity to movement that I could identify the precise location of things? And wait... my son? What connection does Lancelot have to this situation?'
"You are coming with me, little one. I will need to create a talisman to keep any future effects of the mark from activating. As for if you will survive to remove it is entirely up to you. Come now, let's get you up and into my personal chambers so that we can get you sorted," Christina sang as the clicking of her shoes echoed in my ears. She stopped in front of Lancelot, who made frantic eye movements as Christina picked him up and began to walk away from us.
"Also, my son, they will soon awaken. Please assist everyone in getting up and making them comfortable. This next discussion is bound to be quite... intriguing, to say the least."