Visitors

The ground trembles again, stronger this time, sending plates and mugs clattering to the floor. The air fills with the thunderous, guttural roar of a creature in agony—a sound so monstrous it makes my skin crawl. It's not just rage—it's pain. Deep, violent pain.

My breath catches as the roar echoes through the night, shaking the walls of the tavern. Before I can think, Heinrich tightens his hold on me, his arm firm around my waist, grounding me in the chaos.

And then I hear it—another roar, just as deafening but different. My heart sinks. Two trolls.

Heinrich curses under his breath as the shouts from outside grow frantic.

"Two trolls incoming! Shields up! Hold your ground!" a knight bellows, his voice desperate over the clamor of soldiers scrambling outside.

I cling to him as he leads me toward the back of the tavern, weaving through overturned chairs and panicking patrons. People shove past, tripping over one another in their mad dash for the exits. Somewhere near the front, I glimpse knights donning helmets and unsheathing swords, their faces pale but determined.

Another roar splits the air, closer now, followed by a thunderous boom—like a giant fist slamming into the earth. I flinch at the sound, my heart racing.

"Move!" He snaps, tugging me forward just as a window shatter from the force of the tremors. Glass rains down around us, glinting in the flickering firelight.

The tavern walls groan under the pressure of the shaking ground, dust and splinters cascading from the rafters. Through the open doorway, I catch a glimpse of them—two enormous trolls lumbering through the night. One is hunched over, its massive, scarred hand clutching its side, black blood dripping onto the ground in thick pools. The other stands upright, towering and unscathed, its glowing eyes scanning the landscape, sniffing the air with eerie purpose.

The wounded troll lets out a spine-chilling scream, clutching at its injury like it's being ripped apart from the inside. Its pain fuels the other troll, who slams its fists into the earth with terrifying rage, sending another wave of tremors through the ground. We burst into the cold night air, the chill biting at my skin. The stable yard is in disarray—carriages half-loaded, horses stamping nervously, and knights shouting commands over the thunder of approaching footsteps.

Caeruleus doesn't hesitate. He strides toward a waiting carriage, yanking open the wooden door with one hand. "Inside," he orders, his tone leaving no room for argument. My pulse pounds in my ears, but I obey, gathering my skirts and climbing into the cramped space. The scent of wood and leather surrounds me as I settle onto the bench inside. Before I can ask what's happening, Caeruleus pulls the door shut with a heavy thud and locks it from the outside. The clink of metal sounds harsh in the still air.

"Wait—what are you—" I start, panic bubbling up. I press my hands against the door, but it doesn't budge.

Caeruleus leans close to the carriage window, his piercing gaze meeting mine through the small opening. His voice is low but urgent. "Stay here. You'll be safe inside."

My heart races. "But—"

"No arguments." His tone is firm but not unkind. "I'll handle this."

Another tremor rocks the ground, and I hear the distant roars of the trolls closing in. The horses tethered nearby whinny in fear, their hooves stamping against the dirt.

Caeruleus glances over his shoulder, tension etched across his face. "I'll be back soon. Stay put."

And with that, he disappears from view, the sound of his boots fading into the night as he heads toward the chaos brewing outside. I don't know how long I have been sitting there but I suddenly here some faint whispering near and it startles me I move close to the door and sit on the cold floor as if the trolls couldn't spot me if they were to just look through the window, they wouldn't spot me. But it doesn't sound like a troll by now I will be flying just with one of the steps and those trolls clearly sound in pain, not raged.

"The carriage on the east next to the burning stable" someone yell form above snapping my head up but not looking through the window so as not to attract any customers as my heart leaps into my throat. 

"She's in here!" another voice shouts, this one right outside the door. My pulse races as the handle rattles—and before I can even react, the door swings open with a jarring snap.

For a moment, I'm frozen.

Standing in the doorway is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, her presence as startling as the night around us. Her features are striking—high cheekbones, smooth porcelain skin glowing faintly in the flickering firelight, and deep, alluring eyes that seem to hold secrets.

And then she smiles.

It's a radiant, genuine smile—one so warm and disarming it feels like the very air shifts around her, as if the tension vanishes in her presence. But there's something almost too perfect about it, a beauty so dazzling it feels unreal.

"Found you," she says softly, her voice like silk, smooth and confident.

I try to form words, but nothing comes out. My throat tightens, and every instinct tells me something is wrong—terribly wrong.

The sounds of the chaos outside—the roaring trolls, the shouting knights—fade into the background, as if her presence makes everything else irrelevant.

She takes a step closer, still smiling, her gaze locked onto mine as if I'm the only thing that matters. I can't look away.

"Don't be afraid," she whispers, reaching out her hand as if inviting me to take it. Her robes were simple, but there was a quiet elegance in the way they draped around her. The soft blue of her hanfu reminded me of a clear sky after rain, streaked with faint clouds stitched along the edges. Every time she reached forward, the long sleeves fluttered, brushing against the loom like wings of a bird ready to take flight but choosing not to.

She wore her hair pinned up, though a few strands escaped to frame her face. The silver pin holding it together was shaped like a slender willow branch, and the way it sat in her dark hair made her look... untouchable, somehow. Not in the way noblewomen wore distance like armor, but more like a porcelain doll—a fragile thing that could only belong in quiet moments, like the one I was witnessing now.

Her fingers were light, steady, coaxing the threads into place with the kind of focus that made time seem irrelevant. She was weaving more than silk—I could tell that much. There was something personal, maybe even sacred, in the way her hands moved, as if each thread carried a story only, she could tell.

The jade pendant at her neck shifted slightly as she leaned forward, catching a glimmer of light. I wondered if it had a story of its own, something passed down, something more valuable than gold. She didn't dress to impress, and yet everything about her—from the way she tied the sash at her waist to the soft folds of her skirt pooling around her legs—spoke of someone who belonged in her own quiet world, where every stitch mattered.

I felt a sudden ache in my chest. Not quite envy, but close. There was something about her stillness—her ability to be content in this small, ordinary moment—that made me feel like a gust of wind rattling against a window, never quite able to rest.

"Sisters," she finally utters, her voice so soft it feels like it floats across the space between us. It seeps into me, warm and gentle, as soothing as a sleeping pill melting on my tongue. My shoulders sag before I even realize it, like her words pulled the tension right out of me.

For a moment, the word just hangs there. I feel it settle in my bones, and it stings more than I thought it would.

She exhales, her gaze drifting to the window, as if looking anywhere but at me. "I thought we were supposed to be, at least once upon a time." Her smile is small, more sad than bitter, like she's talking to herself. "But I guess not all fairy tales end the way we expect."

The words hit me hard—too hard. I try to speak, but the right words stick in my throat, and all that comes out is a breath. "I—" My voice fails me. There's nothing I want or can say but want she say sounds so familiar like I heard or said that myself. 'We were supposed to be, once upon a time'

"You needn't occupy our minds with such things, come to us" she says giving her hands forward for me to grab it, but I know better. she must be part of the witches, I read they are good at manipulation.

"Never belittle us with those incompetents' disasters, they are merely just micro genes of our DNA's, they are nothing like us. Now come, the gates are just open for a quarter to five we don't have much time left." she hisses, like my earlier comment was an insult to the gracious being she was.

"Who are you?" I question, and she raises an eyebrow at me like I've just committed some unspeakable sin. Am I supposed to know her?

The silence between us stretches uncomfortably, thick and pressing, as if the air itself resents my ignorance. She folds her hands into tight fists, and without warning, the walls of the carriage—the very thing I'd claimed as shelter—splinter into millions of shimmering fragments.

Time slows. Glass, wood, and fabric explode outward in all directions, sparkling like starlight, and I can feel the sharp wind rush against my skin as the world seems to collapse. Panic grips me, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, I brace for impact, expecting the sharp sting of the fall.

But it never comes.

I hang suspended in the air, weightless, like the universe itself has changed its mind. My limbs dangle uselessly, and my breath catches in my throat as I twist midair, trying to make sense of it. Below me, the shattered pieces swirl and drift like embers caught in a slow-burning breeze.

She tilts her head, watching me with unsettling calm, as if my floating is no surprise to her or was it her doing? "You don't remember me?" she asks softly, her voice carrying the sting of disappointment.

I open my mouth to respond, but the words die on my tongue. Who is she? And more importantly—how is she doing this?

Her gaze narrows, and with a flick of her wrist, I'm tugged through the air toward her, as if gravity bends to her command.

"Let's see if I can make you remember." and without any warning she swings her hands to her left sending me to a tree nearby, the horses taken by surprise hysterically runs from left to right like there's no possible place for hiding. I land on my back, hearing the dislocating sound of my bones. before I could get back to my sense, she charges at me and holds me by the neck while carrying me with ease. "I warned you;" she threatens, "I told you he was a nuisance and treacherous numen and look where it got you" she yells, tightly gripping my neck.

"You... are hurting me..." I manage to say but regrets fill in instantly when she holds tighter, and my vision start blurring.

"We are the one's hurting here, you... you betrayed us" and with that I am flying to the other side of the forest, closing my eyes and waiting for pain to crash to me but to my greatest satisfaction, I sense someone behind, and I feel a hand grabbing me by the... hair?

"Look who we have here..." she says, whistling a low, mocking tune. "The tergiversator, our biggest sin."

I squint, trying to make out her features, but her face is shrouded in shadows—like a phantom just beyond the reach of light. Still, something feels off. This voice... it's different from the one before. It drips with venom, thick with anger and resentment, as though I've wronged her in some unforgivable way.

The air shifts around me, cold and sharp, making my skin prickle. It's like her words alone have summoned a storm within me—a chaos I can't explain, let alone remember.

"I—I don't understand," I stammer, confusion tangling with fear. My chest tightens as the weight of her accusation sinks in.

"You will soon understand" she hold me on by my braided hairs and

Slash

before I had the time to process what she was about to do to me she is slice in half, and I see myself falling back to the ground and immediately carried by the very person I was waiting for.

"Sorry" he murmurs kissing me on the forehead it takes me a while and I am startle when realizing we are still floating. "It alright I have you tight in my arms" he reassures without looking at me but at the three ladies on the ground. I lean back into his chest and also stare at those strange women, the one who held my hairs... is standing next to another woman I don't know and didn't notice was there. They are three ladies—one with bloody red hair, cascading wildly over her shoulders like spilled wine, her pale face framed by the strands. The second, who gripped my hair, had locks the color of the deep ocean, her blue waves shimmering under dim light. The third had blonde hair, almost gold, her delicate ringlets falling gracefully, as if spun from sunlight.

All three were dressed in silken robes, each the shade of their hair—scarlet, azure, and gold. Their gowns seemed to move with a life of their own, flowing as they walked, whispering promises of danger and delight. Intricate embroidery of serpents and vines curled around their sleeves, hinting at magic or mischief.

"It always is never a delight to meet you, Anaudia," Caeruleus says, his hair, which had looked well-groomed earlier, now tousled and wild, as if ravaged by a sudden wind. His piercing gaze remains sharp, though, a stark contrast to the chaos atop his head. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, half playful, half condescending.

"Did the storm get to you or are you just fashionably late in style?" the one I didn't notice is the one to answer while walking forward, crossing her arms with a sly grin. Anaudia... it feels so strange, but it seems like I already called her before even if I know I never met her before.

"What about me?" the red-haired lady who grabbed my beautiful, braided hairs asks, sauntering over to join Anaudia. As she walks, her gown dissolves into dark tendrils of smoke, curling sensually around her body. The smoke reassembles into gleaming golden armor—bold, intricate, and daringly revealing, with cut-outs that flaunt her curves while offering just enough protection. She runs her fingers across the metal with a slow, deliberate touch, and the pieces snap into place, molding perfectly to her form. A playful smirk tugs at her lips.

"The same goes to you too Otelia, and what about you Araylia, happy to see me?" the one who attacked me face twist her face in disgust, before walking to the others. Anaudia, Otelia, and Araylia... those names seem strangely familiar, but I know I have never heard them before. They are all standing next to each other while staring up at us.

"Why don't you come to me so I can let you know?" Araylia said calmly, her tone deceptively smooth. Yet beneath that veneer of tranquility lay a sharp edge, like a knife concealed in silk. Her eyes locked onto his, shimmering with an intensity that could either lure him in or warn him away. As the tension thickened in the air, the faint rustle of fabric accompanied her movements, and the corners of her lips curled into a subtle smile. "For a man like you I find it hard to believe your claims of love toward my sister"

"There's a saying I once heard: 'One can't truly understand another's feelings unless they've felt it themselves.'" caeruleus said slowly descending toward the ladies and I tightly grab onto his neck scared but his hold on me tightens, reassuring me that nothing will happen. "That's why you can't understand since you will never be able to feel what I feel, either way let's not waste any more time, why don't you enlighten me as to why you honor me with your gracious presence" by this time we are now eye to eye with Araylia while the other two surprisingly stepped back to give us... space?

"You have to give her back," Otelia whisper-yells from where she stands, her voice sharp with restrained urgency. Her body is taut, every muscle coiled like a spring ready to snap, and the intensity in her eyes makes my heart stutter. Then, her gaze locks onto mine, burning with something raw—fear, anger, or perhaps desperation—and I shrink deeper into the crook of his neck, seeking refuge in the warmth of his skin. She's terrifying, and the weight of her presence feels like it could crush me.

"And why is that?" Caeruleus asks, a lazy grin curling at the edge of his lips, as if her words were nothing more than a joke to him. Amusement dances in his eyes, cold and glittering, as though she had just uttered the most ridiculous thing imaginable.

"Because you are going against what Hideya laws stated and if you forgot let me remind you 'For she who strays from the path of balance shall inevitably fall into ruin. She has deceived the deity, and so shall she forever be deceived. The love she claims to hold dear will not be her salvation—it will become the curse that binds her through countless lifetimes, a torment written into the endless cycles of reincarnation." Anaudia is the one to answer, her words are sharper than the edge of a knife while she stares deep in his eyes without any fear.

"You know I don't abide by those laws. And even if I did, she has no say in my affairs—let's keep it that way," Caeruleus finishes, his voice low, each word laced with a subtle but unmistakable threat. His eyes narrow, a dangerous glint flickering beneath his calm demeanor. "She did that to her own daughter—kept her at arm's length, discarded her as if she were nothing. And even now, she watches her suffer, pretending not to see. She shuts her eyes to the pain she caused, and to me, that is the true threat." He walks back slightly, his smile sharp as a knife's edge. "Tell her to stop kneeling on a jagged rock, trying to push a ball too deep into the ocean with bare hands. Sooner or later, she'll get splashed—or worse—she'll drown."