Iris played with a pair of crystal balls in her right hand. They pressed on each other, danced around each other, and revolved back to their origin. Their smooth pale surface reflected the orange candlelight, illuminating Iris’s misty eyes. She rested on her cushioned office chair while staring at the crystals’ point of contact.

  Three careful knocks interrupted the silence. Antina entered the room with a tray of herbal tea served alongside sweet candies and fruitcakes. She soundlessly placed the tray on her mistress’s office desk, arranged the plates, and poured the tea onto a cup.

  Milky steam shimmered above the cup, obscuring Iris’s smile. She gave a soft blow which gently touched her maid’s lips. Antina was motionless.

  “Parmin and Morbi had already lectured me enough. Are you going to torture your mistress as well?”

  “Your maid wouldn’t dare, Mistress. This tea will relieve your stress.”

  “Isn’t there a better way?”

  Antina turned away from her mistress and took a step back. “You need rest, Mistress.”

  “I’ve slept through many fascinating events.”

  “Nothing but small nuisances. They don’t deserve your attention.”

  “Meeting a Chosen One sounds like an opportunity of a lifetime.”

  Antina raised the teapot and tilted it. From its mouth dripped tea droplets. They sizzled, forming a thin white blanket, whose bubbling surface fused and separated in waves. Colours manifested, and outlines of a memory followed.

  Although blurry, the vision was sufficient to depict the Maiden of Lunar Radiance’s grace. Her gesture, her expression, her radiance, they seeped through the misty screen and filled the office.

  Smiling, Iris touched the surface. Her fingernails passed through it, but she didn’t care. Her eyes fixated on her senior, whom she had never seen before but whose goal she could glean from the singular look.

  “Didn’t she leave you a message?”

  “I’ve shown it to you, Mistress.”

  “But I’d like to hear it from you, Dear.”

  “She wished for your success. I too wish for your success.”

  “Shouldn’t you give me encouragement?”

  “Too much stimulation will do you no good.”

  “Am I not perfectly fine?”

  Iris leaned against her chair. She placed her hands on the armrests and tilted up her head to stare at her maid. Her azure eyes flickered. The air around her stirred like stars preparing for the moonrise. The room cooled until her light breaths turned milky, her warmth steamy.

  Before Antina could speak, she turned around and glared at a new presence. Her shadow quivered, boiling, but she could not detect anything except a twisting, sinking rift. Its blurry edge pushed against the world, devouring bits of the material realm until it replaced the room with grim darkness.

  Antina blinked. The rift vanished. A lady in a pure black dress stood in front of her, smiling, examining her absentminded countenance. Above the lady’s head was a flickering black halo, and behind the lady were pairs of black feathery wings.

  Black Light leaned closer to Antina and smelt a lovely scent. Her wings fluttered, their tips grazing Antina’s forearms. These soft feathers brushed Antina’s cheeks, blurring Antina’s sight.

  There was no resisting. Antina could not move, could not comprehend how she could save her mistress. The Maiden of Lunar Radiance overwhelmed her, but this mysterious lady dwarfed her.

  “Don’t be nervous, Antina,” Iris said. “Black Light is my accomplice.”

  The pressure vanished. Antina fell onto the office desk. She supported herself from collapsing and scattering her mistress’s documents. The wings surrounding her receded. She stared at Black Light.

  “Who are you?” Antina said.

  “Your mistress has just introduced me.”

  “Your alias means nothing.”

  “Are you prepared to hear my True Name?”

  “What do you—”

  Iris tapped the table. “Black Light, this is my maid, Antina. She always worries about me.”

  “You were reckless, Mistress.”

  “Everything is under my control.”

  “What if it weren’t?” Antina glanced at Black Light. “Has she always been here?”

  “She’s always been by my side,” Iris said.

  “I saw everything, Dear,” Black Light said. “Your passionate nights, your hazy morning, your feverish evening, they lay bare before me—including your mistress.”

  “She was trapped within me; she can only infer what happened outside.”

  Antina frowned. “Could she . . . have helped you?”

  “She has never felt your touches, Dear. They were all mine.”

  After smiling at her mistress, Antina turned to Black Light. “Why did you appear now?”

  “Your mistress devoured a sliver of Divinity. She gave some of it to us, allowing me to manifest in the material world.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “What did you do to her?”

  “She is my saviour, Antina,” Iris said. “She saved me, and I saved her.”

  “Am I also your accomplice?” Antina said.

  “Would I exclude my maid?”

  “You should,” Black Light said. “Our crime is against the Divine Pantheon.”

  Antina hmphed, puffing her cheeks. “We, Lady Lilith’s daughters, are already their enemies.”

  Black Light glanced at Antina. The office shook. The brick walls rattled, the curtained windows trembled, and the wooden ceiling sank. Spacetime split at the seams between the material and the immaterial. Tides of nothingness crashed against the isolated room, pushing, crushing, suffocating the air out of the room.

  A sea of shadow sprouted dripping pillars to support the ceiling and chains to stabilise the room, but the ethereal quake eluded all means. The void took the shadow from Antina’s grasp.

  Antina held her breath and closed her eyes. Black Light’s pair of unreadable eyes burned themselves into her soul. She could not escape its focus—its transcendent aura.

  Iris raised her right hand, holding out her index finger. A fleeting crimson spark manifested at her fingertip. The room froze. The void hesitated to advance, for a series of authoritative gazes watched its performance.

  The world opened its eyes and observed all that deserved attention. Countless pupils surrounded Black Light, pressing her invisible power. Her air twisted, turning her silhouette hazy, before she chuckled and withdrew her gaze from Antina.

  She caught Antina, but Antina did not fall. She endured until she regained her balance while peeking at her mistress’s crimson radiance.

  “Was that . . . your power?” Antina said. “You’ve become . . . so powerful.”

  “The reward for challenging a god has to be this plentiful.”

  “But the risk scales proportionally.”

  Iris smiled, her radiance blinding her maid. “This much is nothing.”

  Black Light stepped forth. Manifesting behind Iris, she placed her hands on Iris’s shoulders, leaned her face close to Iris’s, and winked at Antina. Her silent teases rang, danced in the room, and sparked flames inside Antina’s chest.

  “Please don’t touch Mistress,” Antina said. “Even if you’re her guardian angel, I’m still her maid.”

  “I’m not worthy of that position.”

  Frowning, Iris glared at Black Light. “If you tease my maid too much, I’ll become jealous.”

  “You don’t need to worry, Iris. My heart is only for her.”

  Iris leaned on her chair and closed her eyes. She reached for the desk, knocked on it, and opened her palm. A dull grey coin fell out. An echoing metallic sound permeated the office, shifting rhythmically, pushing and pulling, flowing like waves, ebbing like tides. A distinct oceanic smell oozed out from nowhere.

  The office creaked. Its floor and ceiling slightly tilted, rocking side to side. Violent currents crashed the outer deck of the ship, and cyclones hurled at the sky swarms of water.

  Antina readied her shadowy tendrils, but Iris slammed her hand on the desk. The office steadied itself; its walls no longer crackled. The thunderstorm vanished with the ocean. That salty, fishy odour disappeared along with the chilly, damp winds.

  “What was that?” Antina said. “I sensed no teleportation or illusion spells.”

  “A fragment of the past,” Black Light said.

  “It resonated with my Mythical Bloodline,” Iris said. “Isn’t it fascinating?”

  “Are you . . . leaving me again?” Antina said.

  “Please take care of your irresponsible mistress.”

  Iris closed her eyes. Her breathing slowed until no more air came out of her. Her flowing hair dripped as their texture morphed into slime. Her clothes melted, her body shivered, and her figure carelessly dissolved.

  Swiftly Antina arrived beside her mistress. She stretched a thin fabric out of her sleeve. It expanded into a silky blanket, with which she covered her mistress. Her eyes laid on that sleepy, droopy face while her lips curved into a satisfied smile.

  “Nothing you do here would reach her,” Black Light said.

  “Is that a suggestion or a dissuasion?”

  “I would never hinder any love affair.”

  Antina hmphed. She placed her chair beside her mistress’s and leaned close. Her sight never left that serene expression. Nothing could move her more than that slight smile.

  …

  Chattering filled the air with constant noises, prompting Iris to open her eyes. Rot wood’s stench permeated the shaking room. Lanterns chain-hung from the ceiling dimmed and flared. Their pulsating radiance dissonantly breathed, but no crewmates cared.

  A lady in tattered clothes approached Iris. She stopped shaking Iris after realising Iris had awoken. Her pointy fox ears stood frozen. Other Beastkins shouted and went past her to wake the rest of the crew.

  “Follow me, Linda!” The lady grabbed Iris’s hand and dragged her to the upper deck.

  A thunderstorm coated the sky with thick patches of dreary, swirling clouds. Streaks of rain flashed by, rippling the sloughing ocean tides. They swallowed, crushed, and vomited broken planks and shattered sea stacks.

  “They’re coming,” the lady said. “We need to buy time for The Lady!”

  “Be careful,” Iris said.

  The fox lady nodded and brandished her sabre. She joined other warriors in repelling shadowy silhouettes. A ring of fire shot outward. Its flame revealed the enemies’ scaled, mucus-filled bodies. Their murky eyes contracted before the starry brightness, and they retreated before lurching at the mage.

  Iris pointed at a Deep One. Her short bright purple hair levitated around her. The floorboard between her and the Deep One snapped. Countless splinters clawed at the Deep One. It screamed and slashed and bit the mystical stakes, but it failed to reach its target. Its lifeless body knelt before Iris, whose intimidating aura spread throughout the area.

  Attention now rested on Iris. She flicked her right hand and pulled an invisible string. A howl crashed the ship. The Beastkin warriors covered their ears, wincing. The Deep Ones, losing their balance, stumbled and knocked each other off the ship.

  Iris was about to smile when she found her legs losing their strength. She swayed to the side and, held by the fox lady, coughed black masses.

  “What happened to you?” the lady said. “What were those spells? I’ve never seen them before.”

  “I overused my power. Nothing serious.”

  “Promise me not to do it again.”

  “On my name, Linda.”

  “I won’t forgive you if you do anything reckless.”

  “That’s unnecessary.”

  The lady was about to retort when she turned to the centre of the ship. A noble lady raised her hands. A circular drawing, lined by bluish magical dye, glowed upon her muttering chants. Insignias of exotic origins, of unknown meanings, of complex ligature, they danced to her tune and formulated a series of sentences proclaiming her determination.

  The Beastkin warriors looked down at their chests. Scarlet diamond-shaped marks manifested. From them spewed tiny threads, which wrapped around invisible constraints and pulled apart seals on their Mythical Bloodlines.

  The warriors roared, erupting their auras, auras whose fireworks pushed back the dreariness of the thundering world. Their weapons, soaked in their enemies’ viscous blood, shimmered like the eyes of ravenous vultures.

  Iris examined her body, unfamiliar yet comfortable. She was Linda, a Mind Breaker Beastkin, yet Lilith’s influence persisted. Her bloodline remained corrupted, even if it became purer.

  Streams of information, dormant potential ignited by the crimson mark, sparked in her mind. As she assimilated them, her body answered the battle cry. Her spells, a product of the modern time, intertwined with archaic magic and bloodline power.

  The magical array spawned a beam of light. The noble lady swang her hand skyward. A gigantic, translucent spear came out of the beam of light and thrust forth.

  Walls of dense storms flung themselves away from the impact. Lightning and deluges dissolved wherever sunlight touched. The Deep Ones mourned the loss of darkness and fled to the depths.

  Iris pressed on the bulwark, looking at the dispersing clouds and falling sunlight. Saltiness filled the air, but she did not mind it. She couldn’t find any landmark indicating her location, nothing in this infinite water.

  “Linda, why are you here?” The fox lady staggered to her friend. “I thought you hated waking up early.”

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” Iris glanced at her friend’s bruised leg.

  “Don’t even need a spell to heal it.” The lady laughed. “Also, you shouldn’t be here. The Lady wants to talk to you.”

  “Take good care of yourself.”

  Iris looked at the main cabin. At its front was the noble lady. Her curly pink hair swirled like whirlpools guarding the treasures that were a pair of divine ruby eyes. The winds blew under her command, and the sun cast its radiant petals over her.

  She smiled at Iris.

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