Unicorn vomit was an intense provoker of itch and nobody had been kind enough to inform Aurora that, BEFORE, she had doused Vasil, Arcel and herself in its wannabe pool.
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Now, the three musketeers were desperately tiptoeing their way through the Maynard Castle, whilst failing to avoid Lumines and making their way to Arcel's chambers. All of Iris' small body itched and she desperately clawed herself for even a cent of peace.
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But the fight for peace had never been easy.
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Especially when there were two sets of accusing eyes following her around as if she were a criminal under surveillance.
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"This is not the fun I asked for, Iris," Arcel all but sobbed, nearing to tears, as he scratched his cheeks and hands simultaneously. "Is this what I get for sneaking out? Should I have heard to Lady Crimson for once? But I'd hate myself if she were right." The brunette whined, exasperatedly clawing his sides.
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"A warm bath in marigold is standard procedure for getting rid of an Unicorn itch, though it may leave us with a tad deliriousness, we should be fine within eight to ten hours," Vasil nodded to himself, speaking between heavy breaths. His hands remain fisted by his sides, as he takes determined steps of control, eyes concentrated in an unblinking stare toward his destination. Arcel's bathchamber.
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"It is all ya'll's fault. Nobody told you to tackle me like a bloody football dammit. I-feel-like...I am going...INSANE," Aurora lets out a muted shriek, scratching her head with both her hands like a madwoman. "At this rate, I will lose all my hair. I will grow up bald and this will be all your faults!!" She gasps out.
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"Oh please, you dunked us in the pit because you thought it would be FUN!" Arcel counters, nostrils flaring and fingers busy scratching his nape.
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"Heaven forbid that you start talking of what is and not FUN with me, Arcel Maynard," Aurora snaps back, accentuating 'fun' in the most detestable tone possible.
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The night was cold, the hallway airy and Vasil sped forward, leaving behind the bickering duo. He had stalked this place long enough to know where Arcel's bath resided. All of his pores irked for a feral touch, one scratch to soothe the itch, but he knew that if he gave in, it would become unstoppable. He would lose control and Virae knows what may happen next.
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With ambitious and shaky steps, Vasil crossed the hallway onto the allure, as he walked, he forced his mind to drift. Lady Arabella's necklace, it had been activated now. The Knights might have found it by now and they would have twenty-four hours to reverse the spell or let its magic die out...
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Vasil turned to catch a glimpse of Iris and Arcel pulling each other's hair as they sped through, fighting over who would bathe first. Arcel was young, and childhish, but knew how to get his way, Vasil had observed. His persona had a manipulative temperament veiled under naivety. Iris, on the other hand, was oddly incomprehensible to him. She had nothing but a scrawny frame and she posed as if had the Gods backing her. Vasil concluded that he had not met any Draco's blossom or creature of God who was as ridiculous as her.
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Vasil wondered how the next twenty-four hours would impact their future, and a small smirk involuntarily graced his lips.
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.
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"What if it's your bathtub, if I jump in and strip, would you be as inconsiderate as to jump in?!" Aurora babbled, eyes narrowing as Arcel pulled a lock of her hair. Scowling, she pulled his hair even tighter.
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"What inconsiderate? It is MY PLACE and I can do whatever I want to! If I jump in, will you barge in on my decency?!" Arcel seethed, scratching himself with his free hand.
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Aurora breathed out, senses suddenly registering the absence of a third-party. Her eyes wandered in search of that little thief, Vasil, and spotted a small glow of Lumines escorting him over the allure.
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"Why that little — aaa!!" Aurora almost swore, before Arcel pulled her hair even tighter. "Freeze! Statue Arcel Maynard! If you move, you will never be able to meet a dragon in your life!!" Aurora declares. A smug smile graces her face when Arcel literally stops in the moment, cyan eyes blown wide, fingers loosing grip and body withering with the itches.
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"Ha! Sucks to suck!" Aurora grins, fleeing from Arcel's clutches. She runs, tailing the Lumines left behind and ends up standing in front of a door so big, she felt inconsequential in a second. Vasil stood beside her, eyeing the door with a small frown as a cluster of Lumines hovered over his head like mosquitoes on Earth.
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In front of them was a golden tower with intricate floral engravings which Aurora did not recognise. Attached to the allure's end was a brown door, weaving wood into the centre, forming a crest. It looked like a christmas wreath, from Aurora's close observation, a willow wreath with six flowers that she had no idea about. They looked beautiful, nonetheless.
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Aurora raised a hand to touch it but Vasil caught it midway. "I don't think you should touch it," he suggests, eyes narrowing at the small runes glowing under the moonlight. The whole tower was protected by very high efficiency Alruna Runes. "Only the owner can ope—"
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Aurora used her other hand to push it open and the doors jerked back swiftly, giving way to ease her itch.
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"Sorry, you were saying?" Aurora looks back at Vasil, narrowing her eyes where his hand was grasping her wrist. Vasil, frowning at wheather his conclusion was wrong or if Iris was a registered owner of the tower, jerked the hand away, not wanting to intrude boundaries, and Aurora all but fell face first onto the rose-gold marble floor.
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"I apologise," Vasil coughs out, body jittering with controlled itch, but Aurora had not stayed long enough to listen. With hands and feet on a mission, she surveyed room after room, with the same brown doors. The ceiling was blind to her sight and none of Vasil's overhead Lumines had followed her inside. The doors were high and overwhelming to her height. The silent hallway bore a mystery to itself. It looked barren but it had many a stories to tell with the oval windows splattered in red and gold, with the occasional scratches on the black and gold wallpapered walls and the scent of musk.
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As if the size weren't dominating enough, the lack of coherent visibility irked Aurora's senses. The place felt like someone had died in here. And if it weren't for all of her body itching to wit's end and distracting her, she surely would have been driven crazy in that solemn corner of death's bidding that Arcel called his tower.
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"You tricked me!" The accusatory tone of a child had never felt more pleasing to Aurora's ears before. The pitter patter of his steps as he ran inside the tower and the sconces that consequently lit on either sides of the walls that previously felt so inclusive.
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Aurora sighed for all it was, whatever it was, whenever it may be, Arcel was the only constant in her life. As of yet.
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"Took you long enough," the ravenette grinned, poking out a tongue and pulling her eyes to mock Arcel.
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"I was scared!" Arcel whines out, scratching his arms. He speedwalks past Aurora and pushes open the fifth door, with a very shaky Vasil in tow.
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"Boohoo baby," Aurora cackles, skipping behind the two.
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"Are you seeing this injustice?!" Arcel points a finger at Iris, cyan eyes staring through Vasil for some verbal defence. The raven haired boy pays no heed to the little Prince's tantrums and runs himself a bath instead.
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"It's not injustice if it was a bet?" Iris replies with similar exasperation, shifting out of Vasil's space and taking a distant corner in Arcel's annoyingly large bathchamber. She folds her hands against her chest as Arcel stands beside her with a similar stance.
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"No, that is a fair game. There is no injustice in a fair game. It called is a FAIR game for a reason," Arcel debates, casually watching Vasil run from one bathroom end to another, checking temprature and water flow.
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"Oh shut up! That is catching one off guard and you are AWFULLY good at it. It is no way near fair, dare I say, it is a one way convenience," Aurora argues, eyes following Vasil who was now searching for marigold essence.
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"Are you accusing me of making the best out of all opportunities?" Arcel scoffs, watching the water fall in the pool sized bath.
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"No, I'm accusing you of being a selfish and conceited opportunist," Iris scoffs back, watching the steam rise from the bath.
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"It's ready," Vasil's controlled breath of a proclamation was enough for Iris and Arcel to come running up to the pool and jump in, whilst the one who did all the work stands and stares at the duo breathing sighs of relief.
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There is no justice in this world.
.
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"Did you not find it?" Duchess Arabella questions, the back of her hand resting against her forehead and breathing laboured.
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"No, Your Grace, we reached too late. Lake Virae was already bubbling by the time we arrived," Head of the Knights answers with his eyes lowered and shoulders slumped.
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"No- whosoever stole it- they started the spell! They must have been after it for a purpose! This- this was no ordinary theft-!" Duchess Arabella whispers to herself, eyes blown wide as she involuntarily circles her study. Her stance remains poised, but behind her back, her fingers fidget with each other. Her eyes falter from object to object. "Did you search the location? D-id you find something else? Anything?" Her question sounds desperate to the ears who had only ever heard the great mrs Arabella utter words of calm wisdom.
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"Ah-um, yes! We did! It was stuck over one of the crystals," the Knight exclaims, rummaging his pockets to pull out a small black button hanging for its life with a golden thread. "It is this, Your Grace," the Knight holds out the button for the Duchess to take.
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Only to see the Duchess put a hand against her mouth, backing away in shock and denial.
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"It cannot be- why would they- why would they start it all of a sudden? Why now? When we are all at peace?! Why now Diantha, WHY NOW?!"
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Her words end with a shriek, her temperament lost, the ornaments of the mantle piece now thrashed to the ground.
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"Y-your G-grace...are-e you okay?" The Knight asks shakily, not knowing what to do. His feet remain ground, but hand held out, unknowing wheather to reach out or stay within respectable boundaries and give her space.
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"Why now?! Why when it is me? Why not after? Why not before? Why now you cruel draconian descendants?!" Arabella seethes out, pupils dilated, breathing hastened, body withering and hands flailing around to thrash anything in proximity.
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Thankfully, the Knight's moral ordeal came to a standstill when the door jerked open and Lady Crimson stood at its frame. Registering the situation she flicks a hand to dismiss the Knight with a glare conveying, 'a word about this to anyone and seven generations of your family will suffer for having being born."
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The Knight scrambles his burly frame out of the door as Lady Crimson runs up to a panicking Duchess Arabella.
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"Your Grace, what happened? Are you okay? Take control of yourself, Your Grace!"
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"Nooo, Clarisse, you don't understand the joke these people are playing! It's so funny I cannot stand it! Hahaha!" Arabella laughs out a dry, exasperated laugh, sickening to be heard by Clarisse Crimson. She had never seen the demure, poised, beautiful and mature Arabella act this way before.
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"Talk to me, Your Grace, tell me the joke. I'll hear you out if you sit down," Lady Crimson insists, grabbing a hold of Duchess Arabella's hands and refraining them to cause anymore destruction.
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"But why, you must know it Clarisse! Did they not send you to me? I bet you had been spying all along! Did you steal that necklace Clarisse?!" Arabella snaps, pushing Lady Crimson away from her. Her silver eyes glow vehemently, staring down the maidservent who had been by her side for nearly a decade now.
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The woman whimpered on the ground, having landed on a broken piece of glass. Though, she dared not move out of pain but remained in her stance. "Your Grace, you must trust me. If you don't trust me, who shall lend you a shoulder to rest? I have remained loyal to you for the past eleven years, Your Grace—"
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Arabella's hazed silver eyes were suddenly in front of her, glaring with an unrecognised intensity. The Duchess' hand squeezes her cheeks bitterly, pulling her face closer.
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"And must I remind you, Clarisse dearest, that my lovely son, a beloved daughter-in-law and my only granddaughter have since passed away with quite a fashionable ease. I hate to push you in the circle of doubt, but now that I think of it-- everything makes sense. You are still working for them—"
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A coughing fit catches her off guard, weakening her stance as the pink haired Duchess falls on her knees in front of her maidservent, coughing up blood. Her petite body writhes as the darkest fluid of her body makes its way out.
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"You Grace!" Lady Crimson exclaims, "You must rest! Right this instant!" She presses a soothing caress against the shaking Duchess' back and gently tries to get them both up. It's a wobble, for her leg, still pierced with glass shards, bleeds mercilessly.
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Arabella hangs her chin over Clarisse's shoulder, body overcome with slight tremors of her coughing aftermath. She eyes the blood on Lady Crimson's leg. Her body had given up and Lady Crimson was trying so hard to keeping them both from falling over the wate of Arabella's rash actions.
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"I hurt you- again," Arabella whispers a scoff, getting dragged by the younger woman away from the scene of her temper-crime.
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"Thanks to your grace, I heal quick," Lady Crimson rests Arabella on a couch. "Stay, I shall bring your medicine in a moment."
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"No, you must stay," Arabella grabs a hold of Clarisse's hand before she could leave. She looks up at her prim and proper maidservent, silver eyes losing all their intensity. "You must stay and protect Arcel from everything," Arabella begs out a whisper.
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"I thought I would do the killing," Clarisse jokes not used to such seriousness Arabella was engulfing her with. She looks away instead eyeing the glistening mess of glass her mistress had made.
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Arabella tries to laugh, but coughs violently instead. All of her being shaking with blood and tremors left behind. But instead of letting go of Lady Crimson's hand, she grasps it tighter.
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"We must find her soon, the missing Priestess."
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