A singular candle illuminated the cabin. Its light painted on the wooden walls swaying figures of indiscernible expressions. They skipped and circled each other, playfully whispering their lovely tunes while grazing their partners with delicate touches.

  The silhouettes slowed when they approached Iris. They waved at her, flicking their hair, wrapping the strands around her wrists. She gently held them as they overflowed her palms. Their silent giggles permeated the quiet room.

  After smiling at them, she returned to her mistress. In her wooden seat, the noble lady watched Iris interact with the shadowy figures. Her slight smile widened when it met her follower.

  She carefreely got up and leaned toward her unfamiliar subordinate.

  “Your thought?” she said.

  “They are lovely, Mistress.”

  “Are you not afraid?”

  “They are not scary. Please pardon me, but you’re scarier than them.” Iris’s voice trailed off, making the room warmer.

  “Are you afraid of your mistress?”

  “Lady Pluvia, you are my owner. Everything I have is yours for the taking.” Iris coyly pressed her arms against her waist. She blinked, a slow and curvy blink, while pursing her lips. “Knowing that you can do anything to me . . . it feels terrific.”

  “Despite your words, your heart remains calm.”

  Pluvia stood ever so close to her subordinate. Their noses touched. They did not blink or look away.

  “Those spells of yours, I’ve never seen them before,” Pluvia said.

  “Are you interested?”

  Iris’s lingering breath formed a membrane between her and her mistress, who only needed one delicate movement to shatter it.

  “I was merely curious. I make no habit of prying into the past of my people.”

  “It’s nothing special. I learned them from an old tome. Would you like me to teach you?”

  “Never an unfair trade. What kind of rewards would you like?”

  “What does Mistress have for me?”

  “My wealth is no more, and my artefacts are soul-bounded. What I have is my authority, my power, and knowledge.”

  “Would you give me your authority, if I asked for it?”

  “Would you?”

  Iris chuckled. The shadow ladies surrounded Iris, whispering in tones she could never hear, gossiping in words she could never understand; but their smirks and laughter hinted at their amusement.

  “No one would follow me even if I received your authority. They are your people, Mistress. They serve only you.”

  “What about you?”

  While beaming, Iris slowly, carefully knelt on the floor. She lifted her head, staring at her mistress’s face. Her mistress’s shadow covered her vision. Still she could see, with total clarity, that pair of eyes, the pair of crimson stars whose determination inspired fuzziness in Iris. She embraced that airy feeling and took her mistress’s hands.

  She did not give her pledge but waited. Pluvia expectantly nodded. The shadow held their breaths.

  Iris kissed the back of her mistress’s hand. Her lips caressed the softness for as long as a lullaby sang by the rocking and swaying of the ship, by the clashing and splashing of the waves.

  “Is this enough?” Iris said.

  Pluvia drew back her hand. A trace of saliva cooled her skin. She held it close to her face and kissed it. Her eyes shifted from her palm to her subordinate and finally to the surprised shadows. They ardently screamed and vanished into the still shadow, leaving the two in secrecy.

  Pluvia stared at her subordinate, her eyes narrowing. “You weren’t like this before.”

  “People changed.”

  “You did not. I can tell you don’t even believe in your words.”

  “I have always been like this. Will you punish me?”

  “You did not lie, but it still feels strange.”

  “Mistress, please grant me your Blood Path spells.”

  “Your bloodline can’t use them. I cannot give useless rewards.”

  “They aren’t useless. But if you insist, please bless me once more.”

  Pluvia shook her head. “Blood Ignition purifies your bloodline using your vitality. You must rest before I can bless you again.”

  “Please forgive my stubbornness, but I won’t change my condition.”

  Pluvia grabbed Iris’s arms and pulled her up. She looked into Iris’s eyes, trying to break their confidence, yet it remained firm like an obelisk.

  “You don’t need to sacrifice yourself. You are not my only protector.”

  “I am doing this for myself.”

  Pluvia gleaned what she could from the still lake beneath Iris’s expression. She could not find herself an excuse to refuse.

  The candle dimmed. She took a step back and turned around. As she held her breath, she closed her eyes. Her instinct gave her no hints, no answers, no implications. Yet she closed her eyes and let go of herself.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “Tell me, Linda. Who are you?”

  “I am your faithful servant, Lady Pluvia.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since the moment I opened my eyes.” Iris looked down at herself. “I will help you until my last moment, Mistress.”

  “You speak as if what you offered weren’t your life. I remembered all my followers. They swore to dedicate everything to me. Yet their tone isn’t like yours.”

  “Has my tone changed?”

  “You’ve changed, Linda. I . . . distinctly remembered your shyness.” Pluvia resisted the urge to open her eyes, the urge to turn around, the urge to face her unfamiliar Linda. “Who are you, Linda?”

  Iris opened her mouth. No words came through. The candlelight flickered. Her heart itched. She could not change the past; the world before her was a vision, a mere snippet of what had once been real. An outsider, an observer, a watcher like her had no right to interfere.

  Her mistress had long since gone.

  “I am a traveller,” Iris said. “I came here by chance, and I will leave here by chance.”

  “Who . . . are you?”

  “I don’t know.” Iris looked around. “I’ve been trying to answer that question as well.”

  The candle faltered. Darkness descended. Iris closed her eyes and whispered. Pluvia shuddered. A name so unfamiliar yet so memorable etched itself into her soul. It was softer than feathers, lighter than air. It was fleeting like dreams, drifting like clouds.

  Pluvia turned around and opened her eyes. Iris was no longer there. Her heart skipped a beat. Light returned to the room. She looked at her desk. Iris was holding the candle, grinning.

  Pluvia was about to call out to Iris, but something told her she should not. She clenched her hands and relaxed them.

  “Linda, please don’t mind my earlier questions. I got too emotional.”

  “I’m glad you’re curious about me, Mistress.”

  As agreed, Iris taught Pluvia the spells she used against the Deep Ones. The framework of the modern spells fascinated people of the past. As Pluvia asked more questions, Iris understood more of the magic of this period. She too gained much what she believed was already forgotten by this world.

  Knocks interrupted the moment. Receiving permission, the fox lady entered. She greeted her mistress and reported the situation. Her eyes interchanged between her mistress and her best friend.

  “Linda, you should go with her,” Pluvia said. “I can’t make you miss a group meal. Come back when the sun sets.”

  Iris gladly accepted this arrangement.

  “What did Mistress talk about?” the fox lady said. “Linda, since when did you get so close to her?”

  “Are you jealous?”

  “You wouldn’t leave me once you got promoted, would you?”

  “Would you like to be my secretary?”

  “I, Wharang, will serve you with my utmost effort.”

  “You should reserve that to our mistress.”

  Wharang chuckled. She pestered Iris even after they arrived at the dining hall. Her questions piqued the interest of other crewmates. They gathered around Iris and, while bribing her with food and trinkets, pleaded for her to divulge what she did with their mistress.

  Pluvia rarely requested anyone into her room. She commanded unapproachable respect, respect her followers admired only from afar. Only her closest confidants may enter her office, and those confidants kept everything professional and secretive.

  Iris happily studied the trinkets. Her vague answers only fueled the speculation, although no one was brave enough to ask her to clarify herself.

  The day settled. Iris returned to her usual post. She inspected the supplies and helped the tired and injured crew members. Although she appeared the same as ever, her colleagues could sense a new air of mystique over her. She was in the moment, with grace and deliberation. Her twinkling eyes took in the mundane life like the most precious treasure.

  Tides and whirlpools and cloud formations rippled across the vastitude that surrounded the ship. Iris closed her eyes and reopened them. Tiny hexagrams stacked over each other, revolving, shifting. Her vision focused on the horizon. Faint outlines of mountains and coastal bewitched her, but the distance separating her and them remained illusory.

  The orange evening light showered over her. Ocean winds rustled her hair, which spread like pairs of wings. Her petite figure appeared as if it could lift off and flee with the currents.

  She closed her eyes. There was nothing but a body of water. She couldn’t escape this lone prison even if she were to exhaust herself.

  Does the world outside this ocean even exist?

  “Beautiful, aren’t they?” Wharang said. “What are you doing here?”

  “I thought you wanted me to appreciate the sunset.”

  “You never listened. What did Mistress tell you?”

  “She praised me, rewarded me.”

  Wharang stood beside her friend and leaned in. “What’s with this sad tone?”

  “I don’t deserve it. I’m not worthy.”

  “Then give it to me. I’ll get promoted instead, and you’ll become my secretary.” Wharang smirked. “Since when have you become so emotional?”

  Iris faced Wharang and moved in. Her unblinking eyes met Wharang’s. “People can change, Wharang. Do you want to know why I change?”

  The chilly winds blew. Wharang held her breath. A large wave crashed against the hull, rocking the ship. Wharang lost her balance and tipped into Iris’s embrace. Iris unhesitantly hugged and gently caressed her closest friend with her cheek.

  “Do you know, Wharang?” Iris said. “That your ears are so soft. That your smile is so bright.”

  “What are you … implying?” Wharang carefully got out of her friend’s hug. “I don’t understand.”

  Seeing Wharang’s blushes, Iris couldn’t hold back her smile. “Don’t you have something to tell me?”

  Wharang blinked before she remembered. “Mistress wanted you to meet her again!”

  Pluvia sat waiting, writing documents and drawing geometric shapes on scrolls before sprinkling them with powdered crystals. Iris stood behind her mistress and observed.

  “Any question?” Pluvia said. “There’s no need to rush. It took me months before I became proficient.”

  “I shan’t waste your precious time, Mistress. I’ve already grasped the principles.”

  Pluvia narrowed her eyes. “Show me.”

  Iris took a clean scroll, cut the tip of her index finger, and drew her blood in the shape of a circle. Symbols rose from her lines, assembled into sentences, into abstract imageries, and finally filled the space within.

  As Iris rolled up the scroll, she whispered chants, her voice resembling her mistress. Once the last note fell, the scroll shone. The blood on the page solidified.

  Pluvia examined it before she examined her subordinate. The clean engravements, the intricate lexicons, the intertwining formations, they were not a novice could make.

  “It is my definitive loss,” Pluvia said. “With your talent, you’re destined for greatness.”

  “You, too, Mistress. The future will attentively learn of you.”

  “That certainty again…”

  “You’ve given me the best rewards. Please let me return the favour.”

  Pluvia chanted a series of words, whose pronunciation lingered in her soul. Her voice solidified, gathering her words as its cloak, her rhythms as its features, and her intention as its shape. It morphed into a lady in a wedding dress. She looked around the office before she reached for Iris.

  She did not force or plead. She silently waited for acceptance. Iris complied. She gave the lady her hand, to which the lady kissed, and she caressed the lady’s lips.

  The lady bit Iris’s fingertips. She seized Iris’s hand and licked the palm while staring at Iris. Her intense smile heated the air surrounding her, surrounding Iris, surrounding Pluvia.

  Pluvia clapped her hands. A cool gush swirled the room. The lady’s figure lost its structure. She let go of Iris’s hand, chuckled, and turned around. Her fiery gaze landed on her creator, whose thoughts she knew intimately well. Before disappearing, she bit her lips and coyly waved at her maker.

  “Marvelous.” Iris touched her kissed palm. “Your talent is not to be underestimated, Mistress.”

  “That was … unexpected. Your spell is too mysterious.”

  “She came into existence from your passion; your emotions give her life, your desires her soul.”

  Pluvia touched her lips before forcing herself to stop thinking about the implication. Her stare at her follower changed. The way Linda spoke, moved, and carried herself was different. There was a grace lingering all around.

  “I thought I would never show it to anyone, but I’ll make you an exception.” Pluvia unlocked her personal drawer and took out a book. “If the future were to learn about my adventure, it would be through this diary.”

  “A diary is a private world. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

  “You are mine, Linda. You can read it if you wish.” Pluvia placed the book on her desk. “Please stay with me until I finish.”

  “As you wish, Mistress.”

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