Chapter 9: Chapter-8: Enliven

The darkness of the night faded as the clock ticked by, Celine watched the old clock. Elors sat on a platform, blinking as minutes passed and going a darker shade of red as it neared the end of an hour. A pendulum hanging below its platform ticks, as if an old door opening, six times every minute. Elors cried melodiously. A song to ears, only someone so powerful as Celine could enjoy it. It stopped after the fourth cry. Big round eyes that changed color after every minute, and a furry, feathery body. It was a doll in many manners. But worth more than every doll ever made. The fourth cry meant it was forty minutes past four in the morning. It was time for Alenor to wake up. Mana around Red Cryl had almost faded, This night too. They were in the twilight. Just a little more time and the sun will shine through the horizon. Ending this lightless night and ushering in a new... Celine stood up from the sofa and stepped towards her study table beside the glass window.

Alenor could use Empirical Art, another peculiar detail. Normal people never learn it. Yet a low-level mercenary was using it, right in front of her eyes,  at such a young age no less. To say she was speechless was an understatement. As impressive as it might be, it would be of  no use to her against an army. 

It was as if fate wanted her to believe she had hopes, but she knew better... Worst part was that it took her little advantage she had to somehow convince Alenor to hide. Now, she was going to be standing against a ruthless army, like food in an ant colony, in the hope that the Warlord would arrive here when the Sun rises. Death would be preferable to what might happen, in most likely case of being captured alive. Celine did not know how Aquilae would arrive here; the time was too specific to be by normal means of travel. By the elders, Celine would not believe it even if the master of the Guild told her someone would arrive this fast. But Warlords were different. They just, by existing, make many things possible. Their reputation made it a sin in itself to doubt them, even in the most impossible situations. They were basically gods on this land. 

She reached her work table, It was chaotic, papers were half folded and crushed. Ink spilled all over. Books, some open, some closed, were stacked one above the other. A few drops of blood on it. Celine picked up a sheet of paper, a blue one. They were loud enough to wake someone up. Celine preferred blue, a bias she should not have against her creation. This one's cry was not as unpleasant as other colors' were. She folded it into a bird, she had done it enough times to make them while asleep, and they would still look identical. 

"Enliven," Celine whispered, and the bird roused, paper turned into feathers as it looked around. It cocked its head at her, flapped its wings, and cried melodiously. She only knew one Entreaty, which was not in Elder's language. This Spell was her creation, it made her renowned throughout the paradise. First, in known history she was, to create a spell that did not require Elder’s Language. And today, it would be lost forever. She did not teach it to anyone, if it ever fell on vile hands then saying the result would be disastrous would be an understatement. 

"Go and wake up the sleeping one. My little mockingbird" Bird chirped and flew out, through the open balcony door. Celine followed it. She dreaded what would happen once the sanctuary faded away. 

Celine watched as her little bird sat down on Alenor’s right shoulder, she was sleeping in a sitting position and cried in her ears. Alenor stirred and looked at the bird, then hurriedly got up, only to slip and fall down. Her bird sat on her chest. Celine smiled, it was funny to see her be startled like this. if Celine somehow made it out alive. She would take her under her wings… 

Army troops had gathered beyond the chasm, in great numbers. Like ants, they covered every visible part of the territory. and had broken all the Gate. 

Alenor sat back again, looking curiously at the little bird. She was just startled by the bird, not afraid. Nothing could be scared by that cute little thing. The bird turned its head toward Celine and Alenor looked at her; from this distance, her expression was hardly visible. Celine waved at her, and Alenor did as well. Was she smiling? Celine would like to think so. 

Alenor stood up again, not falling this time, and brought out her waterskin. Celine watched curiously, and as Alenor opened its cap, Mana, red and glowing specks sang happily all through the mansion. There was a wave of dense mana inside the waterskin, even more dense than the Red Cryl had when it created this unbreakable Sanctuary. Celine's eyes widened, goosebumps rose through her body, she felt cold, and a chill ran down her spine as she realised what Alenor was doing. she shivered. She had not expected something like this to happen. A dread settled in her stomach as she horrifyingly screamed. Blue Bird remained enthralled on her shoulder.

"ALENOR!!!"

Celine shouted at Alenor to warn her, to stop her, but was ignored. Alenor drank The Agony, and transgressed what a human must not. A valor that many legends tried but not once did they succeed. 

Celine walked back inside and to the door; she needed to go outside to see if she was alive. She reached the door, She stood there, breathing heavily as she grabbed the knob; she needed to stay within this room and not leave this confinement, or her authority would perish. The Army would swarm them, it was pointless for her to be there. She cursed herself—if only she had guessed. And Laughed hollowly at the irony of her thought. "Death makes humans do many things." She let go of the doorknob and walked back to the balcony, to observe the girl, as she let out a throat-tearing scream. A scream was more painful to her ears than those non stop cries. The pain Alenor felt now was beyond human comprehension. She was gone, like every other past brave who drank a Spirit's Blood, drunk on glory and lust. She was gone, like every other past brave who drank a Spirit's Blood, drunk on glory and lust. To reach heights beyond human, to achieve the impossible. Only to lose themselves in agony and die the death of a lunatic. A tear fell from her eyes, as she prayed to her elders to have mercy and give the girl a less painful death.

 

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