The smell of sweetness and assurance—a fallacy. But never did she know the value of sweets. A witch without a body.
A Witch that waited for whatever was around.
Silently asking for help but never knowing how to speak.
One two three steps, time became an illusion.
She appeared inside, bearing witness to what remained of a peaceful time.
The windows alight; the comfort of Miracle Day.
The fireplace acts as the heart of the stone.
The perfect rug of crimson, seemingly unscathed.
Broken glass pictures. All to shatter the memories. Love’s perseverance wasn’t welcomed here.
And yet, Bela still remembered Longinus. All those orders to keep his castle stable and lessen the amount of traps.
He never listened.
I should’ve been there for your final moments.
Maybe If I did, I’d have someone by my side right now.
A monster hid beneath all this nostalgia. It was aching to have fun on Miracle Day.
From a place unseen, a desperate plea of a grandmother shouted out: “No! You must leave!"
But she had seen the spell prior before entering, and had no desire to stop it. She stared back at the entrance, wondering what Spriggan was doing right now. She imagined him happy, standing alone, back turned to her while in the sun’s eye.
“That…”
A swirling, black mass reached out from behind her.
“...Sounds nice.”
Asundra.
WORLD LOBBY
A separate area crafted by Contessa. It was accessible by all Moduran principles across the entire world. To enter, two conditions must be met.
One, an Obligation Chain; A Chain imposed upon the souls of whoever is called to assist with the mission at hand.
Two, an Incantation: “Nyuyoku!”
And boom! Helios was in. The place was already packed with Sorcerers, their names and status appearing above their heads.
Helios Sunreaper: Sorcerer of the Blue Flame!
Moduran Points: 2939489.
That was all he decided to show. There was no point in sticking out and showing off.
His attention was fixated to his right; the usual place for a certain someone to show up.
Step!
Legios Anelu Perffaith: Kamerlot’s Greatest Archer!
Moduran Points: 3985930!
He appeared as formal as ever, never making a disturbance. His bow was monstrous and beautiful at the same time, the bark of a tree overlapping the green energy pulsing through it. “Any word from the other two?”
“Galaxia’s on some other mission, like always.” Helios answered, scratching his head. “Jackie’s with her family right now. She’s got enough points to retire.”
“Ah, I see. Quite the shame. Galaxia’s teleportation would’ve been quite useful for a large-scale mission like this.” Legios then analyzed the look on Helios’ eyes. Empty, a string of hope barely sticking out. “Usually you’re brimming with heat… are you sure you’re up to this?”
For the first time in his career, the Sorcerer of the Blue Flame wasn’t certain. Rare times like this were because of tiredness, but this… this was something else.
But as an older brother, perseverance is a must. “You’re damn right.”
“Aye,” Morton emerged from the crowd, exchanging an understanding smile with his brother. The kind of expression that said, “I got your back.”
There was no doubt about it.
“Alright, everyone.”
Everyone paused. Far ahead, a projection of Adora appeared.
“You’ve all been summoned here to rid of any leftover curses scattered around the Kamerlot. The rules are simple…”
1. Every area where curses reside will be sealed off by a barrier.
2. A maximum of four players can be inside of one barrier.
3. The points you gather from killing enemies can be transferred over to players to a nearby barrier. A 100 points is required for a player to exit and move over to a new barrier.
4. Due to the similarity of levels between enemies, the number of points for killing an enemy is 5. If you don’t gain at least 50 points in thirty minutes, you will be banned from that barrier.
5. The barriers possess a considerable amount of magical power due to being enhanced by Contessa. Communication between barriers will be done by Witches.
6. Friendly Fire is deactivated.
Thank goodness.. Legios thought, side-eyeing Helios.
“That is all.” Adora nodded, “Now, please choose a group of four. Afterwards, you’ll be assigned a layout of the area you will be competing in by your Witch. Good luck, Modurans.”
CUT
Everyone else rushed to gather their teams. Those fresh out of Moduran High went over to find their friends, while more independent Sorcerers waited for others to come to them. Passive.
Helios had already chosen his team.
“I expected the rest of our family to be here—how disappointing." Morton sighed, “Well! I guess we three shall suffice!”
“Gotcha.” Helios nodded, “Legios, you cool?”
“I specialize in long distance, so I won’t get in the way of your synergy. It’s fine by me.” Legios agreed, bow to hip, “Though, depending on the area, I might not be able to cover you two if you go out too far. I suggest we find a healer in case things get rough.”
“Allow me.”
A new voice. One of formality and mysticism.
Morton knew it all too well, and the look on his face made Helios grin.
A beautiful Shine Priestess, white and red like most. Beautiful, purple hair that blossomed backwards, cascading down. Outmatched and easygoing eyes of a woman connected to the art of Onymodo; purification rituals, healing spells and incantations.
Akimo Horihika!
“Well look who it is.” Helios chuckled, nodding Morton.
“A Shrine Maiden?” Legios noted, “Very well. We could use—huh?”
She wasn’t listening to him at all. Morton was out of the loop two.
Their eyes… completely stargazing each other!
“Cut it out you two!”
“Don’t worry, we’ll arrange a double date later on!”
“Brother!”
“What? It’s Miracle Day!”
POOOF!
From above, breaking this scene. Everyone’s attention was now toward their respective witch. A young girl with pumpkin colored curly hair with a hat on top. “Are you ready?”
A simple nod from all, and—
—”Yeah.”
Helios… was still holding out for a chance.
.
.
.
.
.
Meanwhile, Ganji, Harusame, and his team were mapping the area, when—
“Everyone stop!!!”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Puck sped in into the Lobby; mayday! Confusion and anticipation, especially from Ganji. Never had a student of his looked so worried this time of year.
Huff! Huff! Puck’s tiredness was undeniable, but he had a message to relay!
Specifically to them. Ganji caught him before he fell, asking for context.
The answer, was…
“We got one kid missing from the Polar Express!”
Gasps of terror.
“Who?” Ganji inquired.
“The little brother of your former teammate…”
…
This wasn’t good.
“...Cyromin.”
HONK! HONK! HONK!
Those who heard the jingle bells headed up the snow mountain. Up there, up there—the magnificent Polar Express! Smoke blasted up into the snow sky, cold all the same. An Elf stood at the entry, checking off everyone on his list.
Marion got on, but…
“Oh well, I guess we’ll have to go without him.”
And so Marion could only take a seat by the rest of Cyromin’s friend group.
Mintella, a small girl with two pigtails shrouded in the color of a peppermint. Her clothing, too. A long sleeved shirt with white and red stripes and a full red pair of overalls.
Waru—a kid known for his absurdly long nose despite not being of Elf descent. His attire, a full green coat, green pants, and brown boots, didn’t help either. No one knew what was under that hat of his.
“I don’t get it! I mean, last year I was at Saint’s place! Why do I gotta be here this year?!” Waru rambled on.
“You don’t know him enough to call him that.”
“I’m an Elf.”
“Not.”
“Heya.” Marion took a seat beside Mintella. “Before you even ask… Cyromin… he’s… not going.”
“Aw shucks!” Waru shook his head, “Why? Because of the lectures? Figures, I wouldn’t wanna come either.”
“C’mon, Waru. You know Cyro’s a bigger nerd than all of us. Remember when he recited all of the Moduran articles back in fifth grade?”
Something much more sinister was under their nose.
But, just what was he entrusted with?
A vow to Cyromin. One that…
“Don’t tell anyone about what I’m doing.”
“Maybe he’s spending time with his sister.” Mintella said, and for a moment, Marion tried to delude himself.
The Sorcerers will handle it, he reassured, but what would he do?
It’s not my place to stand up.
I’m just some Magician with a weak Origin…
…But…
“Hiya!”
Miss Pai, passing out hot chocolate. She left the Donut shop to her grandmother. A rare occasion, though the Elves promised to assist with cooking.
Landing on the table of the three and being met with greetings, even she knew Cyromin not being there was off. Just weeks before, beneath a forced smile, he talked about just how awesome it would be to eat Donuts on the Polar Express.
Her best customer—one that always finished his plate.
Additionally, there was the fact that she hadn’t spotted the two he was with earlier anywhere. “...Anyone hear from him?”
“He’s up and tidy with his sister tonight.” Mintella answered. “...But, I kinda wish he was here… he’d keep us in check if we screwed up.”
“Actually, y’got me for that!”
They don’t.
“You’re literally the one he looks out for the most.”
“SHUDDUP!”
“Well, it is a shame.” Rarely did any of them witness Pai show the slightest bit of sadness.
But, it was here.
“I would’ve loved… to have him here.”
That was it.
No more hiding.
A Magician's job… is to make people smile!
As Pai continued on, his hands trembled.
Oh, would this be a silent night from a single vow?
No.
Cause...
I’m not gonna stand here... I'm in the spotlight, too!
Always a side character, but he always had a desire to stand in the spotlight.
“Pai…”
He stood up, his gaze fierce.
“There’s something I have to tell you… about Cyromin.”
Even without the Magic to fight, Cyromin marched on this snowy night. The moon kept him in his sights, but he never looked back. This was for sure a death wish. Magic without rules is not the Magic to fight.
But this was the coldest he’d ever felt.
To kill a Curse, you have to strike its heart.
To do that, you need to navigate the inside of its barrier and understand the foundations of the spell.
Then, you break down its data or create a firewall, and disable the functions.
He repeated words from his sister. Some kind of loop that played free of his permission.
“Heh,” A hollow chuckle as he stared at the moon, the cold air escaping his mouth. “I guess… I really should’ve become a Moduran Sorcerer.”
Shadowing his face, he continued his path. The snow made quick work of rendering his footsteps unreadable.
But, he wasn’t alone. “!” He paused before a new layer of footsteps.
Someone else was out here.
He prepared an incantation before—
“BELA!”
“That voice.” Gaze to the east. There, emerging out of the snow-colored bushes, coming out into the moonlight far weaker… was Spriggan.
But his hair was true this time, and far more beautiful.
Him.
“C’mon, Bela!” Spriggan stomped his foot, groaning. If there was one thing he should’ve listened to when it came to his father, it was his explanation of Witch Magic. Shortly after taking Bela in, he made that his top priority for quite some time. Maybe I should’ve stayed. She’d come back to me, right?
“Hey.”
“Huh?”
Spriggan was mildly surprised to see Cyromin out here. Given what he learned from those lectures he expected him to be on the Polar Express right now. “Oh yeah, you—” But he should’ve been far more concerned, ‘cause Bela’s spell had now worn off!
“Your hair’s red?” Cyromin tilted his head, analyzing him. Such suspicion! “Wait, I thought it was blue. Or am I missing something?”
And it just so happened that Spriggan was a terrible liar.
“Well… uh—”
“Don’t worry about it.” Cyromin dismissed it, but he was sure to remember that detail. “By the way, shouldn’t you be on the Polar Express? I don’t blame you since you’ve been missing classes. So many classes, in fact, that my teacher doesn’t even know who you are.”
“Jack, huh? Never heard of em.” - Flowera.
Something’s obviously not adding up here. Besides, I feel like I’ve met someone with that exact same face… a brother, maybe?
He’ll catch on for sure… but I’m willing to hold out.
After all, opposites were bound to clash.
…Maybe, he can help me.
“I had to ditch the Express last minute.” Spriggan turned his sights to the south. Far beyond, the star that seemed to notice only them twinkled. “You see… a friend of mine has gone missing.”
“...The Witch?”
“Uh huh.”
“..Is Bela a nickname, then?”
“What?”
“The name you were calling out.”
“Oh yeah,” A sudden lightbulb appeared above Spriggan, further giving Cyromin the impression he was lying. “It’s a nickname. Anyways, we had a little disagreement… and… yeah.”
“Sorry ‘bout that.” Cyromin hid suspicion under empathy. “But, what makes you so sure she’s out here?”
There was no logic surrounding it.
But Spriggan never forgot the day he and his father stumbled upon the poor witch.
In fact, at that point, it was the happiest he’d seen his father… and the saddest he had seen a person.
“I just do.”
A new element in this journey.
A variable.
The Curse I’m searching for is just up ahead.
Naturally, since Curses come from Witches, they’re more likely to target one.
This means… I can have some back up just in cas—
No.
I have to do this alone.
So…
“If you’re so sure,” Cyromin placed a hand over his shoulder, “I’ll help you.”
And now the cold wasn’t so daunting.
But Cyromin certainly was. “What’s in it for you?”
“I don’t need a reason to help someone.”
But Spriggan found it to be nothing but fiction. Reality overwhelmed his perception, and he could see the look on the boy’s eyes more clearly than ever. Anger towards something specific—something personal.
Step. Step. Step.
And as he grew further, the truth was clear.
The words that stemmed from the abyss of Spriggan’s ego.
Is this… because of me?
Because… of what I said him?
But what was the point in fighting back? Spriggan knew deep down that he would do the same to the Moduran Sorcerers. A fleeting distinction.
To convince would be to lie, and there was no way he’d be the one in that place. The blank space where the weak stood, satisfied with being stationary.
And for the first time in his life… Spriggan felt defeated.
A concerning message is relayed! Here, in the Kamerlot Castle!
“MISSING?!” Calomfina, of course, was not happy. It was the first time Puck had seen the princess in person. What was even more surreal was the fact that he was standing in the same room as the Earth’s Watch.
“Yeah, a word from a friend of his.” Puck said, “The Polar Express is about to leave, too.”
And we assured Saint Nicholas that we’d have everything under control, Calomfina thought, tapping her thumb against the handle of her throne. If he was a Moduran Sorcerer I would’ve been able to track his location, but…
“Okay—” The queen calmed her nerves. “—And Puck, you said that there were no signs of him?”
“Yeah, it was some kind of concealing spell. Well, a prototype.” Puck thought carefully, “Crap, that kid is talented! Not even adults can do that.”
As to be expected. When Calomfina remembered that name, thus recalling his amazing educational record she obtained from the Moduran Department of Education, everything weaved together. Frightening.
“I know of his whereabouts! He’s going exactly where we are.” Ganji claimed, “We can teleport there.”
“No, we can’t.” Harusame stepped forward, “The only two people who know teleportation magic are Galaxia and the princess, and it depends on the person. A group with as much power as us will be hard to get in and out.”
“Plus, if he’s going where we think he’s going, then he’s in range.” Nyxia added.
Contessa hadn’t placed a barrier there yet. If done, then the hyperactive nature of the curse would be triggered. Due to it lying dormant for so long, the Magic has had more time to “adapt” to the conditions.
“Seriously? I should have you two kicked out for this.”
Storming into the room, her arrogant regalia contagious, was Adora. By her side, Didaden, who the queen could tell was hiding something.
Adora of course could use Teleportation Sorcery. She’s the princess, after all. This system be damned, she could teleport a max of ten average Moduran Sorcerers. And as for these three…
“I’ll take ya where ya need!”
“You… you sure, daughter?”
“You have to deal with the stuff at the North Pole, right? Deal with that, mom! I’ll be fine!” Her shimmering cape fluttered as she approached the three. Ah, an honor student since childhood. Before even she knew it, she was all grown up and making commands.
All Calomfina could shut the hell up! Her daughter was stronger than she could ever imagine.
And that was saddening.
“Listen up, teleporting is something I can do with no problem. The real issue is gettin’ ya a Witch in case you need help. Hard to do considering the amount of data you all cover… no offense.” Adora explained, “So I’ll tell Contessa to put a time limit on the Barrier… and you’ll have five minutes to neutralize the curse and bring back Cybra’s brother.”
A mission set.
The two were still walking, and the cold didn’t give up. Still falling, picking up speed. Spriggan was tense, as opposed to Cyromin.
“So you two met in this forest.” Cyromin said. Spriggan didn’t respond, but that didn’t matter. The land started to curve upwards, the trees growing larger and larger.
A chill wind howled before—”Tell me.”
A voice too rough with grief. The boy colder than winter took a little detour, moving toward one of the trees. A complete dot in comparison. “What would you do if something injured her?”
The old man…
Longinus would for sure destroy anything in his path, or at least attempt to.
Only five days, and the illusion of his father’s smoke rising into the air still didn’t fade.
“Why are you asking?”
“...Right, I already know.”
The moment Cyromin turned his back,
“I don’t know what I’d do…”
He’d turned back to see a withering flame.
Oppositions facing each other. They’ll never be the same, as the world would have it.
“I do know that… I’d at least wish to say goodbye.”
Aggravating. Absolutely despicable.
When Spriggan raised his head from weakness, he bore witness to the bloodshot eyes of someone without justification.
But even with this chill wind passing by, beckoning death, the flame did not falter.
Not this time.
No words. Plenty exchanged with eyes. The path beyond was shorter, much shorter.
Ideals are meaningless when it’s someone’s life on the line!
They walked, walked, and walked. The chainsaw preventing them from reaching out to each other was aggravating. Before they knew it, the Gingerbread house presented itself as ordinary as possible.
Something was at the chocolate door, of course. What remained of a Witch’s hope.
Bela’s broom.
“There!” Spriggan was on the move, but was brought to a halt as Cyromin took the lead. What the—!
“Stay back.” He warned, his arm the line between him and whatever was inside.
Slap! Defiance, casting his arm aside. “You said you’d help me find Bela, so beat it!”
“The Polar Express is already off right now I bet.” Cyromin’s eyes surged with hatred. “I’m sure you know my intention. You told me to do it after all.”
Regret struck him like a truck, but he wouldn’t stay down.
“You’ll get yourself killed, y'idiot!” He beckoned with the most worry he’d shown in years, holding on tightly to Cyromin’s arm. “Someone like you isn’t beating whatever that is! You'll lose for sure!”
Pwoooo….
A chill wind takes form around Cyromin, sending Spriggan’s hair into a frenzy. Slowly, his heated gaze fell upon the dragon, and sheer sympathy was almost enough to see the value of logic.
“If I can’t rid this world of a curse on a day like this—” But he had come a long way from his home. Surely, the world has been waiting for this day. His sister would no longer have to bear the burden of sisterhood, nor would he have to bear the burden of an unobtainable future. “—Then why in the world am I her brother?!”
Conflict between ice and fire, but darkness was brewing, too. It caught their attention immediately.
The house was distorting, normality turning into monstrosity. First, a monster’s hand emerged, claws deep to cut through the bones and marrows of this very earth. Three more of those, and of course, a face. Rising at a snails’ pace, twitching as if reality itself couldn’t comprehend it.
Eyes with no distinct color, constantly flashing. A smile that broke the cheekbones, skin hanging off jagged teeth like rotten ribs. Frizzy hair of every shade of pink, waving in the wind.
Asundra.
A high pitched laugh, the sound of a hurting child underneath.
And beneath the spiraling shade… was Bela. Spriggan could hear her, wallowing in weakness.
He froze.
Cyromin formed a handsign, prepared to fully finish the job.
But, before they knew it…
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
…The teeth of Asundra were mere seconds away from them.
“￥Δ￥—￥Δ￥! ?Δ??￥! ?Δ??￥!”
Mayday.
END