“Did you see that?” one said, holding a hand over her mouth. “She just destroyed that beautiful cloak like it was nothing. How could she do such a thing without hesitating in the slightest?”
“This is hard to watch, and yet I can’t look away,” another morbidly said. “Why is she doing this?”
“Our dear little princess has never been quite the same after those cruel humans ripped her beautiful wings,” another mourned. “I fear the shock of it all was too much for the poor child to handle.”
The little girl raced around another target, swung her sword around with a loud yell before she whacked its arm clean off, spun around and jumped into a heavy slash that destroyed another’s stylish and colorful dress, and then dashed off again with quickly moving feet, sword held off to the side with both hands, and a daring smile on her face.
“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” a giant butterfly marveled. “Is that truly our darling princess Complica? What has become of her? Why is she acting like a… like a…”
“A barbarian?”
“A brute?”
“A beast?”
“A destroyer of all things beautiful and precious?”
Complica raced through the field, whacking targets again and again, beating them up and inflicting cracks and broken limbs, tearing apart the clothing the butterflies had dressed them with, and even outright whacked off one of the dummy’s heads with a loud snap. The women gasped in disbelief as Complica spun around off-balance with a giggle, the little girl regaining her footing and looking around at all that she had done with a bright smile and absolutely no remorse.
“She took that thing’s head right off,” a woman said, slowly pointing to her with a pale look of terror.
“After she ruined its dazzling top with that dangerous thing she swings about like crazy,” another complained with teary eyes. “Why is she doing this? Why is the monarch allowing her daughter to behave this way?”
“Because princess Complica wants to spend her time doing this,” another spoke up, gaining their attention. Leaning against the fence was a giant butterfly whose battered wings of blue, black, and white colors had rips and holes in them, the woman dressed in a long flowing violet skirt while wearing a soft green shawl around her neck. She watched Complica sprinting around with playful laughter and wild swings of her sword with her yellow eyes before glancing to the giant butterflies who were showing disturbed frowns towards her.
“Have you already forgotten about the human swordswoman who saved her life?” the woman questioned them. “Or the human man who brought her to the monarch and spoke of a future where we and humans live together in peace?”
“I remember the attractive man who brought her back,” one said with a shrug. “And the rather… strange things he was preaching. The brute with the sword, however, wasn’t someone I was rather interested in.”
“Well that brute, as you say, sparked a new fasciation in our crippled princess after saving her life from swarm. Complica may not be able to fly, but she sure can run with boundless energy. Not only that, but she seems captivated by the way of the warrior. I think that swordswoman ignited a hidden desire in our princess.”
“She’s ruining all those beautiful garments we made for those icky wooden exercise dummies,” another complained with a huff. “It’s like she doesn’t care about gorgeous things anymore, all she cares about is hitting things with that stupid stick.”
“Our princess clearly has a passion for swordplay,” the crippled butterfly retorted with a smirk. “And our monarch has encouraged her new desire by provided this training field for her to play around in. How about you stop dressing those things up in there, that way you won’t need to complain after she beats the ever loving crap out of them.”
“How can you approve of what’s happening to her?” another demanded in a fluster. “What she’s doing now is so barbarous, it’s downright irrational. This isn’t something a princess of our grove should be wasting her time with.”
“Tell that to the monarch, if you dare,” the woman quipped with a twitch of her eyebrow. “Until then, pipe down and let the little girl practice. This is what she wants to do, and frankly it shows a lot of courage. She can’t fly, she’s grounded for life, and yet she wants to learn the art of combat so as to fight danger head on. How many of you would dare pick up a sword if we came under attack?”
All the women looked away with quiet grumbles and pouts, something the crippled butterfly chuckled at seeing before turning her eyes back onto Complica.
“We could use more fighters like her,” she complimented. “Especially since we have absolutely none to speak of as of right now.”
“That poor girl,” a butterfly sulked, watching Complica running around and taking off the head of another dummy with a hard strike. “So much potential… wasted. And on something as ruthless as sword fighting of all things.”
“Well…” another slowly reasoned. “Her movements are sort of like a dance. In a way… it’s kind of beautiful to watch.”
“It would be more stunning to watch if she wasn’t running around with a weapon used to disembody those mannequins and ruin all those amazing outfits we made. Oh dear god, she just tore apart that stylish skirt I worked forever on! I can’t watch anymore!”
The crowd observed Complica practicing her swordplay, hacking apart the training dummies and their colorful outfits much to their disappointment and dismay. The crippled butterfly near the fence watched the princess focusing all her energy and passion into her newest pastime, something that brought a curious grin to the woman’s face while her chuckling voice distorted slightly before changing back again.
While the women watched their princess swinging her sword wildly at the targets with never-ending energy, other giant butterflies were going about their day as usual. Many were inside the grove with their everyday doings, however a few were just returning to Flairwood near the outskirts of the grove as they slowly fluttered down onto the forest floor with large baskets filled with fancy new fabric and glittering jewelry.
“Finally home,” one of them breathed out in relief. “I have to say, I wish they would build a trading post closer to us than Lesquin. My wings are so tired and sore.”
“Hey, it was worth the two day journey,” another beamed as she admired the pristine fabric she had in her basket. “My next dress I make is going to be the talk of the town. I bet even the monarch will order one from me after she sees how amazing it looks with this stuff.”
“Was it just me, or did their prices go up since last time?” a third asked with a puzzled look. “I mean, these are some amazing necklaces and rings I got, but they seemed so expensive. I had to show off my body for three hours straight in order to pay for them. It was only one hour last time I went there, I’m certain it was.”
“Whatever,” the first said with a shrug. “The wares from our sisters in Ventras are of very unique quality, you can’t find goods like this in Koskaysil. Only the butterflies in the southern region make them. With rare materials and jewels like these, our dresses are going to be the hottest items in Flairwood. And by hottest items, I mean us when we’re wearing them.”
“I can’t wait to get started on mine. See you girls later, I look forward to admiring what you create with these southern splendors,” a butterfly giggled before hastily flying off towards the village. Another followed after with playful laughter while the third turned towards their fourth companion who was leaning against a tree with a weary grimace on her face. She had her basket held against her hip while the other hand was resting on her stomach as she seemed to be suffering some discomfort.
“Adria, you alright?”
“I’m… just feeling a little queasy,” the woman replied, shaking her head. “I don’t think those beetles they had on sale are agreeing with me.”
“I told you they were too cheap to be worth it,” her friend laughed. “You need to show off your curves for at least thirty minutes to get decent quality beetles with. T
en minutes worth means they’re not going to be that good.”
“I know… but I was in a hurry to eat something. And they didn’t look that bad.”
“Sorry. Go home and rest. You’ll feel better in no time,” her friend said with a wink. She turned to fly off while Adria set down her basket and lowered onto her knees near the tree. She tried to shake off a horrible feeling creeping through her before she suddenly lurched forward and coughed heavily into her hand. After a few painful heaves with flinching wings behind her, the woman slowly caught her breath and focused her vision again. She paused, taking a moment to be disgusted by the foul taste in her mouth, and then carefully looked to her hand, a nervous look coming over her as she saw what she coughed up into her palm.
Her blood.
Artwork
Chronicles of Eden: Season II - Act II Cover
Lucy - Copycat
Eirene - Copycat
Hilda Brown
Doc - Giant Butterfly
Grace - Season II
Lelu - Season II
Max Harollson - Season II
Arial - Snow Angel
Complica - Season II
Monster Class - Drider
Monster Class - Lamia
Monster Class - Gargoyle
Author's Thank You
Thank you very much for reading, I hope you enjoyed what you found in this book. Writing this series has become one of my favorite things to do, and giving life to these wonderful characters is always a delight and sometimes a creative challenge. There's plenty more in the story to tell and I'm working hard to get the following books out as soon as I can. I do hope you like what comes next. If you're a fan of the series and want to learn more, visit my website for news and links to the series wiki and other informational sites.
And as always, if you like what you’ve seen here please don’t be shy, reviews help authors sell books so they can eat. Not trying to guilt trip you of course, just saying that Alexander Gordon likes to eat and not starve. He’s just weird that way. Don’t judge.
Chronicles of Eden - Season II - Act II Page 44