The Clown

Birds chirped happily as they played outside. It was the first time the sun had shone in months.

"Have you grown taller?" Lady Arcturus asked, inspecting James. And indeed, he had grown—a few inches taller, and his small build had gained a bit more width.

"It must've been all the commotion lately. I didn't notice," she added, folding her arms with a quiet smile.

James just stood there, grinning.

Suddenly, a servant entered, bearing letters.

"M'lady... I come bearing letters."

He was carrying two envelopes. One was sealed in parchment the color of light timber. On the back, scrawled in elegant ink, were the words: Annie Dewald.

The second envelope was pure white, its edges trimmed in blue. A wax seal held it shut, depicting two lion-like creatures with wings, facing each other—a sword between them, crowned with a jewel-studded crest.

"This one's from the Royal Palace," Lady Arcturus said, raising a brow. "And the other… Dewald? James, I think this one's yours. I didn't know you were acquainted with them."

James's eyes widened slightly as he took the envelope from his grandmother.

"What makes them so special? Back at school, everyone seemed to know who they were," he said, tearing the letter open.

Inside, it read:

Dear James,

Long time no see. We forgot to exchange contact information, so it took longer than expected to reach you.

I am so disappointed—you never mentioned you were from THE Arcturus Family!

I hope to see you soon, though, as I'll be visiting your fief sometime soon.

P.S. I left a crystal tune inside the envelope so we can communicate more easily.

Sincerely,

Annie Dewald

After reading, James felt a twinge of guilt for never mentioning his family. But then again, she hadn't told him about hers either. So it balances out, he thought, convincing himself.

"You boy… you seriously don't know the Dewald family?" Lady Arcturus's tone was puzzled. James continued looking through the envelope.

"They're a family of Seers," she said.

"What?!" James's voice cracked with surprise.

"Well, in all the land, there's no better family to read your fortune than the Dewalds. All their prophecies come true. They have a gift—one that allows them to see through the veil of the world."

James took a few steps back and sank into a nearby chair. The news hit him like a wave. He always knew Annie was special—but this? This was something else.

"You know how many aristocrats fawn at their feet? Make sure to keep her close—she'll be a good ally to have," came a familiar voice. Alexandre had entered the room, catching the last of the conversation.

"Haaa… Alex, let children be children. Stop with all this convoluted talk of allies," Lady Arcturus said gently.

Alexandre said nothing more, taking the seat beside her.

"By the way, a letter from the Palace is here. Would you like to read it?" she added, her usual enthusiasm fading.

"Mmm… give it," Alexandre replied with a heavy sigh.

But before he could open it, a loud bang echoed through the estate, rattling the calm.

"Ahhh… Rose, what are you doing?"

A voice rang out, trailing behind the echo of the bang like an offbeat ballet.

"Let go of the young master—have you lost your mind, Rose?"

The voices grew louder, muddled by panic. Something was very wrong.

"I'm done listening… to these nobles," Rose spat. "When have they ever treated us like humans? Hah?"

She was a servant in her early forties. Her hair, usually cropped and tamed by a headband, now flared wild around her face. Darker than ink, it framed eyes burning with a frenzied gleam. Madness flickered behind her brown irises.

"Look at yourselves," she hissed, spinning with Angus still in her grasp. "There are seals burned into your skin—how different are you from slaves? From mutts? Used and discarded at their whim!"

Her face twisted grotesquely, her grip on Angus unrelenting.

Alexandre burst from his chair the moment he heard the commotion. He rushed outside—and froze.

There, in the courtyard, Angus trembled in the arms of a servant gone rogue.

"YOU LET GO OF HIM!" Alexandre roared. His voice cracked like thunder, weighted with power.

Rose flinched, ducking—then straightened, wide-eyed and unhinged.

"Nooo!" she shrieked. "He promised me power! Why should it be only you? Why should only you get to act as you please?"

Her eyes darted erratically. "That's right—I'm gifted! I've been chosen... Me!"

Her complexion turned pale, like her blood had curdled. Then she let out a screech—inhuman, piercing. The sheer sound made nearby servants collapse unconscious.

Inside, James jumped to his feet.

"No—you stay here," Lady Arcturus ordered, grabbing his arm. Her voice shook with fear.

But James wrenched free and bolted outside.

There he saw it.

Angus—his cousin—shaking in Rose's grasp.

"I, Alexandre, order you—let go of Angus!" the old man thundered.

The sigil on Rose's neck flared red. Her eyes widened. Her grip faltered.

Angus dropped and scrambled to safety.

Rose staggered, howling. Pain surged through her, contorting her body.

Thick, dark smoke erupted from her pores, swirling. Her skin rippled. Bulges formed and burst beneath the surface. The smoke pressed into her, forcing a terrible transformation.

Then—POP.

Wet, tearing sounds filled the air. Flesh where the sigil burned slid off like melting wax.

What stood in Rose's place was no longer human.

Tentacles sprouted from her arms, slick and glistening. They twisted toward Angus.

Just as they reached him—Olivia appeared, Sig in hand. She threw herself between them, shielding him.

The tentacles brushed her back.

Her cloak disintegrated—fabric turning to ash. Her skin began to crust and darken.

But before it could spread—

WHHHSSHHHH!

A sharp whistle split the chaos.

Alexandre raised his Sigrod and cast a seal, voice sharp and commanding.

The creature wailed as its body collapsed.

Everyone was outside now. Lady Arcturus rushed to Olivia, helping her up.

"My goodness, Olivia—you almost died! Let's get inside. I'll say a prayer for healing."

She propped Olivia up and took Angus by the hand.

"Mother... are... y-you alright?" Angus sobbed.

Is my mother going to die because of me? The thought gripped him, and he cried harder.

"Now, now, my boy," Lady Arcturus said gently. "She'll be just fine. It's only a slight graze."

Then, lowering her voice: "I need you to go to the cabinet in my room. On the top shelf, there's a green vial. Bring it to me."

Yes—I'm going to help save her, Angus told himself. He darted upstairs.

Outside, the creature screamed. The seal had severed its tentacles.

It reached for a fallen servant. Tentacles pierced his chest, draining his life force.

Realization struck James.

"Grandpa! It's the same thing that attacked the school!" he shouted.

"Ahh... a chimera," Alexandre growled. "How many lives did they take just to make one beast? Hundreds? Thousands?"

His fury was palpable. Sigrod raised to the sky, he chanted:

"I, Alexandre Arcturus, child of the stars, form this contract with the guardians of the brilliant light—star of stars."

The sky darkened. Three stars shimmered overhead—one brighter than the rest. Glittering fragments fell, melting into Alexandre's skin.

His Sigrod melted too, fusing with his hand. Its outline glowed like a celestial tattoo.

James stared, stunned.

Is this what a god is?

Alexandre stood bathed in light. He no longer looked like James's grandfather.

"You vile creature," his voice thundered.

"D…y…t…u…" he spoke, incomprehensibly.

Then the creature exploded from within. Flesh and limbs scattered.

Alexandre muttered again. The remains ignited in white flames. The smell was foul. Bits of its body hissed and smoked.

He approached the creature's unburned head—spared as if by design.

"Who sent you?" he demanded, reaching toward it—

—when suddenly, a high-pitched whistle pierced the air.

A masked man appeared, striking Alexandre. His mask was plain white, with a painted tear like a clown's.

"I apologize, but we cannot have you destroying our little experiment," the figure said with a bow.

And just as quickly—he vanished.

Alexandre collapsed to one knee as the light around him faded.