by Ko, John
“He doesn’t mean us, babos.” The room empties and only the interlopers remain behind with the intimidating descendant of the Zul.
“Greetings, Brother!” the Fate says happily. “How fare you this fine day?”
“Are you trying to make me mad? I told you never to call me that. There is no blood shared between us,” Kase growls. “Why are you even here?”
“What are you saying, Brother? Do you not believe we Zul should look out for one another,” says the Fate, though the paleness of his skin indicates otherwise.
Kase takes two angry steps towards the grinning boy before regaining his composure. “Whatever,” he spits out before turning to Esperanza. “Greetings, Esperanza, First Daughter. I hope you have been well. Are you here for a private challenge perhaps?”
Riser laughs in his face. “Not even if you suddenly turned into an Orc would I fight the likes of you.”
“Still going on about Orcs, I see,” Kase says. “You realize they are no longer the most feared of the new teams on the World Circuit, don’t you?”
“Who is then?” Riser asks.
“The Bunny Death Mages.”
Riser begins to laugh.
"No, I am serious. Look them up. They are fearsome and undefeated." Kase turns back towards the Fate. “Why show up now? What could you possible want this late in the year?”
“We are looking for a Healer. I am here to ask Princess if she wants to join my Team,” the Fate says. It’s so much worse than Wake feared. All he can do is stare at his new captain and hope this is all some sort of bad joke. He can’t be serious. That’s the Healer we’re here to recruit?
Kase just stares back. Finally, he takes off a glove to wipe away at his eye and bursts out in laughter. “Look, Brother, I’m not sure if you were born this way or someone dropped you on your head, but there’s no way under the sun she’d leave The 'Royal’ Team and join yours.”
“I will not know for sure unless I ask.”
“If that’s what you’re here for, go right on ahead.” He bows with a flourish and gestures towards the white coach with the two-toned door. “She’s in there. I’ll warn you though, it’s her ‘Reading Time’ and she hates being bothered at this hour.
“And forgive my rudeness and your captain’s for the lack of proper introductions,” the young nobleman continues. “I am Kase Shake. It is a pleasure to meet you. I believe it is Rachel and Wake Avenoy?”
Rachel blushes as he takes her hand. “Thank you, it is an honor to make your acquaintance.” She curtsies.
“It really is an honor to meet you. I’m a big fan.” Wake says. The star of all those Tear memories he used to watch is right in front of him, and he actually knows their names. It’s almost too much for him. This is crazy. What is going on? How can Fate and Esperanza talk to the Chosen One the way they do. How do they even know him?
“Ha, so at least there are a couple among you with some semblance of manners.” Kase shakes Wake’s hand firmly before pulling him in close. “I saw your match earlier. That was a nice counter, but you should have smacked him with something harder than just Water.”
He chortles as he turns to walk away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must get back to my training.”
Wake stands there doubly dumbfounded. Not only are his new teammates welcome here but Kase Shake, the Best of the Best, watched one of his matches and gave him a compliment.
Before he is able to get too proud of himself, Wake sees the dreadful sight—the Fate at the top of the most ornate set of stairs, about to knock on the door done in two tones of violet. Kase warned us she doesn’t like to be disturbed at this hour! What’s he doing? She can have us beheaded or worse …
Chapter 9
PRINCESS
[The Royal Caravan]
Princess Achylsa Love sits at her vanity reading the day’s paper, which just happens to feature her on the front page. Despite that fact, she finds herself immersed in the story of what befell the town of Glen Forest, though you wouldn’t be able to tell by the expression on her face. There is none.
She sits straight, straighter than a flower only graced by the sun at noon. Down her neck, strands of amethyst fall careless, ending in so many swirls against her high-collared dress. It is one of many handpicked by her grandaunt—a woman who has dressed no less than three queens and more than a handful of princesses. And now that her husband’s come to sit upon the throne, the royal court has never looked so good, which is something the Princess could not care any less about. She’s always been fine with her grandaunt’s choices. That is, until just recently.
Queen Jandice is a classic woman with classic tastes, which means gowns imported from Jasir for the warmer months and Yornian attire for autumn and winter. This past spring however, the Princess made it known she would only wear garments produced in Wysteria.
The Princess even went out of her way to explain Why to Buy Wysterian, using quotes directly from the enlightening article. But the Queen didn’t appreciate the lecture one bit. Still, her grandaunt went out of the way to find the most promising tailor in all of the Three Kingdoms.
The Princess is wearing his work now. Even the Queen approved its design of a sleek silhouette from collar to waist, below which the outer skirt opens to reveal a split, long and dramatic. The clean lines and blocks of color suit the Doll Princess well.
No one who actually knows her would ever call her that: the Doll Princess. But it’s what the kids on Tour have taken to calling her. She doesn’t particularly like it, but she couldn’t care less what they call her.
“We have visitors, Your Highness,” says the lady in the silver mask. Up until that moment, the Sibyl of Sleeping Goddess was so quiet, the Princess thought the old priestess might’ve actually fallen asleep. Just like her goddess. But she never forgot that the Sibyl was there. She is always there.
“Tell whomever it is, to go away,” the Princess says before returning to her article.
“Hello, Princess, are you in there?” a voice calls from the other side of the door. The Sibyl stands and slips past the piles of newsprint and stacks of books that clutter the otherwise immaculate wagon. That voice …
“You may want to come see this,” the Sibyl says from the peephole.
The Princess lets out a little sigh and sets the paper she was so enjoying down next to the lilac on her desk. She holds no particular fondness for flowers, but she tries to keep at least one of the potted, purple plants around. After all, they were her mother’s favorites.
When she makes it to the peephole and peers through it, a little “Oh” escapes her lips.
“Princesssss, are you in there?” the Fate calls again from the other side.
“This is quite the opportunity. There is more than a bit of Virtue at stake here,” the Sibyl notes. “Tread wisely.”
The Princess nods and reaches for the door.
“Wait, Princess. You should at least brush your hair.”
The Princess takes one look in the mirror and acquiesces. “A moment, please,” she calls out before returning to her vanity in search of a brush.
The Sibyl in turn tries to bring some semblance of order to the room. In seconds, her arms are full of all manner of papers, from scrolls to books to old newsprint. With nowhere to put the growing pile, she begins shoving them underneath the bed.
“Gently,” the Princess orders, putting her brush away. She takes a seat and nods.
“You may enter,” she calls out. The Sibyl opens the door with a humble curtsey. On the other side is the Troublemaker, and tugging at his shirt is another she recognizes immediately.
“Hello, Princess,” the Fate greets her before turning to the stately priestess. “Hello, Auntie, I hope you’re well … Oh, and before I forget.” He belches loudly in the princess’s general direction.
He turns to his friend and signals for him to do the same. The other boy will have none of it, though. Thank goodness; at least he has some manners.
“Welcome … Fate, Espera
nza.” She tries to make it sound friendly and welcoming.
“Thank you, Princess. And how do you fare this fine day?” the Troublemaker asks before leaning in and staring at her mouth. “Your smile still needs some work …”
Before he can finish, the Daughter cuts in diplomatically. “Good evening, Princess. Lady Myun and the Venerable send their best wishes.”
“How kind of you to relay the message. Please return the sentiment the next time you see your mother.”
Never one for formalities, the Troublemaker gets to the point. “Princess, would you like to join my team?” The question is surprising, but not that surprising.
“You very well know that I cannot do such a thing.”
“There are no rules against it as far as I know,” he says.
Ignoring the annoying boy, she stands and faces the tall, fair girl. This must be the older sister. “Excuse me for not introducing myself straight away. I am Achylsa Love. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
A blushing Rachel replies with a curtsey. “It is an honor, Your Highness. I am Rachel Avenoy of Ice Ridge.”
The Princess turns her gaze towards Wake as if noticing him for the first time.
“Um, Hel … Greetings, Your Majesty, my … I’m Wake Avenoy. Nice to meet you,” he manages to spit out. He looks everywhere but at her. She doesn’t reply. Instead, she waits for him to face her.
When he finally does, he turns red and blurts out, “You’re much prettier in real life.”
The Doll Princess reveals she is not made entirely of porcelain. Her eyes grow large before she furrows her brow and sits back down.
Esperanza slaps Wake on the back and laughs silently. The Fate looks at him curiously. The nervous boy then extends a hand towards the Sibyl. “Hello, Ma’am, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, also.”
The older woman is taken aback. Obviously the Troublemaker’s rude greeting was to be expected, but otherwise the masked priestess has grown accustomed to being overlooked. “Greetings to you, young man. You do not have to worry about introducing yourself to me. I am but a simple priestess, nothing more than an attendant to the 'prettier-in-real-life' princess.”
Why did she just say that? the Princess wonders, studying the Sibyl out of the corner of her eye. It’s unlike her to speak at all in front of others, and even then the Sibyl always keeps it short and to the point. These may’ve been the first unnecessary words the Princess has ever heard the masked lady utter. Seeing what could only be described as a twinkle in the priestess’s eyes, the Princess suddenly wonders if she is smiling underneath the silvery mask. It’s a thought that never, ever crossed her mind before.
“Fate, I will not join your team, but instead I will make an offer to you, to all of you. Whosoever among you that so wishes, may join the Royal Team. If you do so, qualifying for Criers College will most assuredly be guaranteed. I ask this of you not only for myself, but all of the Three Kingdoms.”
Wake can’t believe what he’s hearing. Even his sister’s eyes snap open in shock.
“It is essential that I am the one who leads this year’s top team. There’s more at stake than you could ever know,” the Princess explains.
The Fate is the first to reply. “No thank you, I am already the captain of this team. And there is more at stake than you could ever know.”
“Don’t be a fool … Fate. You don’t even have any points yet.” Sensing she’s not getting anywhere, she looks to the others. “The offer is for each of you. If you choose to accept, you will be doing a great service to all the citizens of the Three Kingdoms.”
Esperanza bows and says, “Thank You, Princess, but I’ll stick with Fate.”
“I can’t believe I am saying this, but I too must refuse. I was just cast off a team and leaving after committing myself would be too similar an act. Please forgive me, Princess,” Rachel tells her.
The Princess looks at the only one left to answer, but he is too busy staring at his boots to notice.
“Ray, are you sure about this?” Wake asks his older sister.
“Yes,’ she whispers, “I’m sorry. I just can’t. But it’s okay if you do.”
Scuffing his boots, he says, “Thank you. Really, thank you, but I guess I’m with them.”
“Very well, then.” The rejected girl turns to face the Fate. “You do not know what you are doing. Your actions are harming all of the Three Kingdoms,” she declares softly. The Princess looks straight into his eyes; trying, hoping to make him understand. This is no game …
“Dark Magic! Flee!” he says, bolting for the door. The remaining teammates apologize and follow behind—a little more civilly.
Chapter 10
RISER
[The Village of Greenwood]
“Was that really the right thing to do?” Wake asks, following the others as they make their way back to town. “I get it. You want to be captain. But that may’ve been our only chance—your only chance of qualifying.”
The Fate shrugs. “No, there is always a chance."
“Are you sure? Maybe it’s not too late. We could go back,” Wake says, almost pleading.
“No, we are going forward.”
“Come on, man, be serious. All of our futures are at stake here.”
“I realize that, but I wonder if you do.”
“Can you at least tell us what you’re planning?” Rachel asks.
“Nothing has changed. We are going to find a Healer tonight. And I know just the cleric. He’s the strongest Healer in all of Wysteria.” The Fate holds his hands out wide. “Besides, Sensei says we need to have our roster finalized by tomorrow morning in order to compete in Capture the Flag.”
“No way!” Rachel says. “We won’t be ready in time.”
Her brother agrees. “That’s just two days away and you must know Flag’s everyone’s favorite. Everybody’s going to be there. And didn’t we just ask Princess to be our Healer because she’s the best?”
“She belongs on the team, but this Healer is even stronger than her,” the Fate says.
“Then why didn’t we go ask ‘this Healer’ first?” asks a frustrated Wake.
“I did,” the Fate says. “He has refused me three times already.”
“Then why are we wasting our time?”
“Today is the day he says yes. I know it,” the Fate says.
“Did you feel the same way about the Princess?” Rachel asks.
The Fate tilts his head questioningly and blinks twice.
“Just exactly who is this Healer?” Riser asks flatly. She waited silent up until now, but this is beginning to feel ominous. If this Healer is any good, she should’ve already known who they are. But she couldn’t think of anyone matching the description. Whoever it is, they better be good. Most teams run with at least two Healers.
Having three no-names on the team is bad enough. If they add a fourth unknown, even she would have to start doubting their chances. Fate is strong. I’m strong. We should be enough to carry the others as long as they don’t get in the way. But we need a decent Healer, at least.
It’s not something the Daughter would ever admit out loud, but all of a sudden she wishes the original team were here. If only Sya and Haenul weren’t older and Ieiri younger.
She trudges along in silent thought before finally snapping out of it. Enough of this wishful thinking. I need to figure out exactly where we’re going, she thinks. If this Healer really is any good, I should be able to guess who it is. She begins listing off the top Healers in her head, but she can’t think of a single one not already on a team. Finally, she gives up. “You’ve never mentioned any other Healers than our regular pair … and the Princess.”
“That is correct,” the Fate says.
There’s probably no use in asking for a name, she figures. Esperanza runs her tongue over her fangs as she contemplates just who ‘this Healer’ could be. The pair of barely protruding points have always been a source of pride and she habitually brings attention to them. No other Daugh
ter of her generation has fangs as nice as hers. She often wondered how hers would compare to a full-fledged Orc’s. Which reminds her of the closest thing to a real Orc around: Brother Monster. No, he couldn’t possibly mean him; anyone but him. That would be … unforgivable.
Riser groans. “It’s not that coward Brother Monster, is it?” Please, for the love of Enyo, say no.
Orcs tend to stick with their own kind. The only times you see one away from their homeland is on the World Circuit of the International Tournament of Tears. But there is one so-called Orc in Wysteria. Well, half of one, though she wouldn’t even him describe him as that. They call him Brother Monster and he’s known more for being a wimp that refuses to fight than anything else. The coward’s famous for taking some sort of vow against it.
The Captain nods his head, much to her dismay. Unbelievable!
“Please, no, anybody but him. All he can do is heal. He won’t fight back, even if he’s getting beaten up. The last thing we need is a weakling like that.”
Wake adds his voice. “There’s no way he’s going to join us, anyway. I heard he’s rejected every offer, ever. No one even bothers asking him anymore. I wonder why he even follows the Tour.”
“He is just waiting for that right moment,” The Fate tells them. “And that moment is now. We will be the best team this country has ever seen and he is the best Healer out there, so it only makes sense.”
“With that kind of logic, how can we go wrong?” Rachel notes as she joins Riser in groaning.
“I’ll pass. I’m hungry. I’ll meet you back at the inn.” Riser says, trying to get out of this worthless mission. Things are not going as expected. She doesn’t care how well Brother Monster might heal, not if he refuses to fight.
I should’ve waited till next year. I would’ve been better off with Ieiri. This year’s class is way too full of strong candidates. They say the strongest in years, she thinks before checking her cowardice. Who cares about the likes of Kase Shake or Daisho Sixblades?. She might’ve lost to them before, but she’s beaten them, as well. Well, at least in practice—sort of. And I’ll beat Sixblades for real the next time we meet. She better; she’ll be seventeen in a couple days. And with the coming of her birthday, her Pilgrimage will officially begin.