Her fingers rummaged through the earth, searching. She dug and dug some more until the moon faded and the sun glared at her desperation.
As sweat beaded her brow, and her feathers burned from blocking the unforgiving sun, Tyra finally pulled her hand out.
Like the hundreds of times before, she found nothing. The emptiness in her hand stung harsher than the sweltering heat. She grabbed a handful of loose soil and shoved it into a plain black pouch hanging at her waist.
They must be busy, Tyra thought. The letter should arrive tomorrow.
- Chapter Sixty-One ‘The Empty’, The Tale of Arrogance
Ell had accepted her transmigration easily. One, because she held no attachment to her original world. And two, because Ilai was not a person she’d felt guilty possessing.
But now, and contrary to the novel’s framing, Ilai was not cruel, only ruthless. She was not arrogant in the way one looked down on another, but in the sense of possessing an inflated ego that left her believing she was invincible.
She held wealth and honor, and she’d dedicated it to the less fortunate as much as she indulged in it.
Ilai was a character that had lived proudly and shone brightly, only to drown in a suffocating darkness. In the cruelest way possible.
Bile filled Ell’s mouth with astringent bitterness.
The distraction she had sought to calm her nerves was backfiring horribly.
She was in another person’s body. An innocent person who was destined to suffer, or perhaps already had, through a miserable ending.
Ell’s stomach turned. The sudden plummet earlier had flipped her insides, and now the realization she’d earned a new life at the expense of ending another—a good one, no less—pushed whatever last meal Ilai had enjoyed out of Ell’s mouth.
Selin staggered in the air as Ell wretched uncontrollably. The wind strewed vomit everywhere.
The guard estimated the distance to the agreed meeting spot, finding it neither near nor far. They could afford to land.
After spotting a clearance not too far away, Selin glided down, setting the shaken Ell on the ground. She pulled Ell’s hair away from her face as the younger girl dry heaved, nothing left to expel from her stomach.
‘What happened to Ilai?’ It was a question only the system knew the answer to.
'She died,' the system replied coldly.
‘How?’ Ell asked but was met with unflinching silence.
As the tremors faded into a stinging in her throat, Ell collapsed onto her back.
Selin placed a silver flask of water by Ell's side. Her lips moved but the sound did not reach Ell's buzzing ears. Regardless of her response, or lack thereof, Selin moved further away.
Clouds rolled over Ell’s body, offering glimpses of closed eyes and knitted brows every once in a while.
Vomiting was always a good thing. Whether sick or sickened, relief would quickly follow.
Selin’s voice drifted to Ell’s sobering ears. “… be sick. Either way, cleanse.”
Ell pried her eyes open. Her sluggish mind took a few moments to retrieve relevant information.
Cleanse. The only association Ell could make from the scant words was with a single individual: Varoth Cyn Dravos, Ilai’s competent assistant. Selin and Ilai were supposed to meet him at the Birsle Forest—a relatively safe place sitting between the temple and the capital’s borders—after the play was through.
Varoth's Blessing had everything to do with cleansing.
Purclen. A Blessing concerned with cleansing the body of any external interference from other Blessings produced by people or artifacts.
Ell had not used a Blessing to possess Ilai, but there was no guarantee whichever mechanism was used to parachute her into Ilai's body was resistant to the Purclen.
Even if she passed through the cleansing successfully, things were not looking optimistic. Her intense reaction just now appeared unprovoked and might be choked up for airsickness, but Ilai could not possibly have airsickness.
Ell closed her eyes, placed a hand on her left shoulder, and took a deep inhale.
Ilai was dead. Ell did not kill Ilai. Ell was now Ilai.
The churning of her thoughts quieted. For the life Ilai had lost and Ell had gained, she would repay her.
With a steady exhale, Ell’s eyes snapped open.
First things first. She needed a good explanation for all the vomiting earlier. One that wouldn’t be riddled with holes too quickly. She searched through Ilai's memories.
Her head hurt, and she found a glorious nothing.
Only one thing might save her now.
Prompts Ell had ignored since the banquet now flashed rapidly in the air.
[Checkpoints ?]
[Checkpoints | Each checkpoint loads a portion of the original storyline. Increase plotline progression and integration value to unlock more checkpoints.]
[Checkpoints Loaded | 0]
[Note | Unlock checkpoints to unlock character Favorability and increase integration value.]
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Useless. Next.
[Integration ?]
[Integration | Degree of understanding of the world and characters.]
[Integration Value | 001]
[Note | Increase integration to unlock checkpoints.]
Pass.
The composure Ell had crudely stitched together was tearing at the seams.
The next prompts were unfamiliar. She had been too busy having an existential crisis to notice they’d popped up midflight.
[Deviation ?]
[Deviation | Extent of deviation from original plotline.]
[Deviation Points | 0023]
[Plot Deviation | 0.05%]
[Note | Deviation points may be used to unlock and use skills.]
Finally, something useful.
[Skills ?]
[Skills | Abilities available for use through consumption of deviation points and stability points.]
[Divisions]
Ell sat up as Selin approached. The crisp crunch of autumn leaves came from beneath Selin’s boots and someplace further.
[Stability ?]
[Stability | Extent of the user’s ability to use skills. If stability points reach 0, the user will die. 1 stability point is consumed for every 100 deviation points used. Stability points refill within the recovery time, in minutes, equivalent to the square number of points used.]
[Stability Points | 100]
[Note | Stability points are consumed by activating skills.]
A bronze sphere rolled between arcing roots and thick bushes into the clearing, slowing to a halt. With a soft click, a circle of metal was pushed out and up from the front, hanging parallel to the ground. A man in dark green robes and shoulder length black hair interspersed with beaded braids stepped out. A lock hovered above his head.
His eyes found Ell directly.
Ell ran a hand over the prickly grass and reached for the water flask. She calmly rinsed her mouth from the sourness then forced down a few sips.
Time was up.
With a single thought, Ell assigned all the integration points to the Impersonator skill. A confirmation box popped up, and she focused on the [Yes] option without hesitation. The deviation points dropped to a string of four zeroes, while the stability points decreased in the decimals.
A wave of nausea suddenly surged, and she spat what little she had swallowed onto the ground. A vile smell lingered in her nose.
She looked up at the two silently examining her and smiled coldly. “Having fun watching? Should I perform some more?” Her smile dropped. “Come here,” she ordered as she threw Selin a pointed glare. She extended a hand when Selin drew near. The guard didn’t pause as she helped her up.
Once stable on her feet, she fiddled with a gold band on her thumb. Holographic images only visible to her sprung into the air. She reached a hand into a hovering perfume bottle.
One glass after the other appeared in her grasp. Ell would spray two puffs into the air, take a deep breath, fail to remove the stench clouding her head, and toss the vessel aside.
Varoth stepped forward, his tone light as he spoke, “Is something the matter, Your Highness?” His long fingers stretched in anticipation, ready to strip whatever Ivaor had possessed the princess into oblivion.
Her nose scrunched up in disgust. “That thing’s smell is stuck in my nose,” she spat.
The thing she was referring to was Kael. All she could smell right now was human barbeque.
Varoth and Selin caught on, exchanging knowing glances. Varoth visibly relaxed, folding his arms and shaking his head with a sigh. Selin remained still, watching Ell in silence.
A heap of precious perfumes gathered at the hem of Ell’s robes. Useless, she thought. Her eyes flickered to Varoth. “I remember you had a perfume with a particularly unbearable smell. Hand it over,” she demanded.
Varoth paused as he withdrew the bronze vehicle into his storage ring. He turned to Ell with an apologetic smile. “After Your Highness expressed your deep dislike for it, I threw it away.”
Ell sneered at his blatant lies. “Threw it away? Your wife’s anniversary gift? Because I didn’t like it?” She laughed coldly then grimaced as her head pulsed. “Hand it over.”
Varoth gave one final struggle, resisting half a breath before pulling the heart shaped glass out of his black ring.
Ell snatched it away before he could change his mind. One puff and the air was filled with a strange smell. A combination of sweet on sour on aquatic on oriental scents that hit all the wrong spots. “Sonia’s taste is really—,” Ell paused when Varoth quirked a threatening eyebrow, “—unique.”
The stench of burnt flesh was replaced by an equally unpleasant but less headache inducing smell. Ell cast a disgusted glance at the pink-tinted glass filled with dubious liquid.
Varoth’s voice interrupted as she was about to give it back. “Don’t you dare throw it.” He came closer, palms cupped together.
She scoffed. “I wasn’t going to,” she mumbled as she dropped it into his hands.
She glanced at Selin’s soiled clothes then at her own dirty attire. “We’re staying at your house tonight,” she said as she looked at Varoth. It was not too far from their location.
Varoth nodded, pulling a communication artifact from his storage. “I shall notify the mansion. Do I need to relay any specifics to His Lordship?” he asked as he brought a metallic mask to his face. It blocked most his face, from the bridge of his nose down to his chin. Except for the curvature accommodating his nose, the mask was a plain sheet.
Ell rubbed her temples. She was a bundle of filth, hardly able to focus. “What Lordship?”
The assistant's voice was clear, unburdened by the mask as he spoke, “It’s nothing, Your Highness.” Since the princess didn’t bother to remember, he wouldn’t bother to remind her.
He then slid a finger over the top edge of the mask. Blood seeped out, simultaneously drawn into the mask to give it a crimson sheen. No sound could be heard as he relayed the message. Once he was done, the mask lost the red hue, and he returned it to storage, replacing it with what appeared to be a pocket watch.
A metallic green chain with a ring imbued with a turquoise jewel at one end was connected to the bottom of the watch. Varoth set the required destination through adjusting the 'clock's' three arms to the required positions. He pulled at the ring. Another chain erupted from the bottom, twisting around itself at the free end to form a modestly sized loop. He tugged on the main ring again, and yet another chain appeared, mirroring the one before it.
He pulled at the loop of one chain and handed it to Ell, but a hand blocked it as she made to take it.
“What are you doing?” Ell suppressed her rising temper, hand curling into a fist.
Selin spoke evenly. “Get a cleanse first.”
The princess glanced at her coldly. She sneered. “And why should I?”
Selin stepped forward, holding Ell’s wrist firmly. “Because I insist, Your Highness.”