Sustaining The King's Life 78 In The Silence Of The Sewers

And with the simple sentence, emerged a mystical pentagram amidst the reticence of the void. The haunting darkness now seemed to lurk to the corners of the sewers, giving way to the dim, ominous light from the magic circle.

There stood a silhouette, a shadow.

"Faustina." It says with a hauntingly echoing voice. "I found you at last."

"Kid," says Owen. "Get behind me."

Faustina did so. She did not bring her staff—not that she knows how to use it. The staff was her medium of magic and its gem was not yet lit, nor the intricate lines showing the mana. It would not be useful. She only knows basic spells that demand minimum mana—which will be only used to the academy's entrance exam. She did learn about spells that were aimed to attack—but incantations meant to harm were under the restriction code of the Court, and therefore, forbidden to be used by those who have no magician license or the Graduates of Magierstadt.

Faustina hid behind Owen and then buried the necklace back to her pocket. Her bare soles were touching the cold floor, but what mattered was not the cold cobblestone. It was the magic circle and the man creeping towards it. Someone shawled in a dark cloak. Only a smile was visible to the face, unmoving and still—

"I-I know him," Faustina says. "He's after me... h-he—" got the body of my master. Faustina wanted to say those words.

"Yeah, I know, kid." Owen answers. "But this is not a 'he'."

"What do you mean?"

"This is a marionette." Owen answers. "Not hav'n a proper training with the mystical arts but 'm certain we don't have a human facing us. Observe."

Faustina did so. The seemingly still and frozen smile was not a real smile after all—it was like a forced lip sewed to a curved line.

And it was. Thread-like red yarns appeared to the smile, which startled both Faustina and Owen. The thread made the smile look like a bloodied mouth sewn to happiness. This befitted the name of the creature—a marionette. A puppet. A warlock's doll.

"I'm no expert to s'ch matters," Owen says. "But I know a human when I see one. This 's no human."

Faustina nodded and remained vigilant.

"Faustina."

Its voice was soft in her mind. The smile was unmoving, still and taciturn. The voice belonged to the only person she could ever come to loathe. Owen drew a sword from the sheathe hiding in his cloak.

"I mean no harm. I found you now." It says. "Come and step to the circle. I come of peace."

"Leave me alone!"

The shadow moved towards them, and Owen slashed his sword to thin air, drawing a line, a line to the floor which then was floodlit with a golden light. There was now a golden line on the floor.

"A boundary? Your friend here is an illegal magic-user? A sword that is imitating a staff?"

Faustina blinked. "Owen—"

"I said I got no proper trainin'," he exclaims. "No biggie. Now this doll cannot cross this line. We're safe here 's long yer not connected to the marionette for some reason. Can ye hear a voice?"

Faustina blinked.

"Yes."

And with that Owen was thrown to the stream of water running behind them. Faustina turned to see the marionette in front of her, its lips sewn into a smile.

"Now Faustina. Our Lord awaits."

The marionette reached its hand to Faustina's cheek.

"He wants to see you."

The marionette's voice was now different. A slow transition.

Eula?

"Come with me, my baby." It says. "He wants to see us. Together, we will be happy,"

"Eula…" Faustina blinked. "B-but I have my duty—the king… h-he, he ordered me—he a.s.signed me a certain task. I have to fulfill my duty—"

"Faustina, you are free," it says. "You are doing that because of me, right? I'm here now. You are no longer the king's. You are mine. Now step to the magic circle…"

"But—"

"KID!" Owen says, running towards Faustina. "Do not listen to the puppet!"

"Puppet?" Faustina turned her head to the blurring darkness—Owen was running towards her.

And then a soft caress against her cheek made her turn her head back once more to the source of a sweet hum.

Spring.

There was no darkness. It was the full bloom of greens—the mountain was ever-again gone with arctic freeze. There was sweet-smelling moisture from the morning across the gra.s.sy fields. The flowers were dancing over the bushes and different animals were playing again.

"Faustina, dear?"

Faustina blinked. She was sitting in the shade of a tree.

A red-haired woman with all the familiar lines over her face. A beautiful eye of green, like olive. Curly red, light locks. A natural scent.

"You fell asleep reading a book again." Eula says. "What are you reading?"

Faustina bent her head down, and saw an opened book.

"Magierstadt's restriction code…" Faustina answers.

"Good heavens, you are reading such complex books." Eula says. "Come now. I prepared lunch. Your favorite!"

Faustina embraced Eula, seeking her warmth.

"O-oh dear… Faustina, what's wrong?"

"I don't know," Faustina answers. "Something feels wrong. I miss you."

"My, me. Such a sweet child." Eula stood up, along with Faustina, not breaking their embrace.

"Eula…" Faustina mutters.

"Come on. Make haste. Come with me. Move now." Eula says.

Faustina and Eula broke from the embrace, holding each other's hand. A music in the silence played. They walked slowly down to the hill.

"The cabin's just there. We must go now." Eula exclaims. "Wouldn't want your favorite food to get cold, right?"

Faustina halted.

"Faustina?"

"I have no favorite food."

"Oh you jest." Eula says, confused. But she was still smiling.

"I have no favorite food, Eula." Faustina says.

"You have one now. Now come with me." Eula exclaims, and then she proceeded to walk. Faustina let go of her hand.

"Faustina, dear?"

"You sound different." Faustina says. "I… I'm not going."

"Faustina." Eula calls, her calm smile unwavering.

"Come now. Just a few steps and we're there." She says. "I have a surprise for you."

Faustina stared intently. And as she blinked the cabin was on fire. She blinked again—it was back on its usual, tranquil state.

Another blink. The darkness was enveloping the entirety of the spring she used to love. There were burnt people—soldiers burnt to crisp in the ground.

She blinked again, in fear—everything was yet back to normal.

And then again.
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A different face welcomed her. A doll. A sewn smile.

Eula.

"Your master is dead." A voice.

'she's here.' Faustina answers. Every time she blinks, a different reality awaited her. 'She's standing right in front of me.'

"Your master is gone." A voice persisted.

'No. She's here…'

"She's gone!" Faustina blinked. It was her own voice.

And then it shattered. The spring broke into smithereens like a mirror gone, only a reality of fire and dead bodies now awaited her every blink of her eye. The king stood amidst the mountain of cadavers, holding on to his sword.

"She's gone, Faustina. You must do your duty."

Faustina was holding the marionette's lifeless hand, and as she was about to let go…

It cried.