Chapter 8: Five

Something was wrong with Maddie these last days. She wasn’t playing as much with Olvia. She spent most of her time lost in her thoughts, looking at the windows as if expecting someone.

Maggie was worried, she even tried to get her sister out of her gloom with her favourite lemon cake, but she barely touched it. She also went to the swamp all by herself to gather some mud to fix that shiny hair she complained about the other day, and Maddie told her she wasn’t in the mood. No other words were spoken.

Maggie was worried about her; on the other side, Olvia seemed happy and happier each day, dancing with a long piece of pink silk, making silly noises with her tongue and chuckling joyfully through the house.

On the fourth day of Maddie’s gloominess, Maggie decided it was time to intervene drastically:

‘Maddie, you need to stop!’

The sad faery turned her head to face her sister’s direction and looked at her with the most downcast eyes ever:’Okay’; and turned her down chin back to the window.

Maggie sat next to her and lay her hand on Maddie’s knee: ‘You must tell me what is going on. I’m worried, and I’m really worried.’

‘Can’t you feel it?’

‘Feel what?’

‘The darkness coming? Day by day, it grows! Coming in our direction and fast. I never felt something moving so fast!’; there was fear in her whispering voice.

The two faeries always acted as sister twins. It was fun for both of them. They never felt alone nor missed the other smiles. They shared all their thoughts and secrets, but the truth couldn’t be farther. They were born on the same day and inside the same flower. Maddie was born the perfect faerie, and Maggie was not.

She could sense all of nature around her. Maddie could feel when a tree started to get sick with mouldy roots. She would know when flowers or sprouts would bloom. She could even talk to fireflies. Maddie was born with green blood, as a faerie should.

Maggy could not feel nature, couldn’t talk to trees, sprouts or even fireflies. Maggy was getting older faster than Maddie. Her chest was getting smaller, and she noticed that her curves were flatter. Maggy knew she would disappear sooner than Maddie, which would take time. Longer than any other mortal. She is still a faerie, but it will be more shortly than her sister. Since Maggie was born with red blood. Just like the mortals, she was damned to a brief life span.

She interrupted her thoughts and suggested:’We can just go away, and we don’t have to stay here if you don’t feel safe.’

‘We can’t.’

‘Why?’

‘The fireflies told me we must stay and wait.’

‘So if the fireflies said so, it is because there is no danger?’

‘You don’t understand, Margret! I feel it! Is like a dark agony that will swallow us all.’

‘But then the fireflies told you to stay?’

‘Yes.’

‘And the fireflies are our friends?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do we trust the fireflies?’

‘Yes!’

‘So I don’t see the reason why we should be gloomy. We should seize the day! Today is today, and tomorrow is another day! Maybe tomorrow is a problem, but even so, tomorrow will still be another day!’

Olvia came next to the faeries, walking in quick steps with the earlier silk piece. Making it float over her head, she was trying, in a very clumsy way, to perform some moves making strange noises while drooling her chin.

Maggie was amused:’Look how cute she is trying to dance again!’

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Maddie shacked her head: ‘No, she is not dancing. Olvia is fighting.’

Maggies then realized with a hefty weight deep down her belly that the sounds Olvia was drooling sounded just like two swords clutching.

‘You should feed her. She didn’t eat this morning again.’; said Maddy without taking her eyes off the windows.

 

Maggie sat with Olvia at the table with The Making and Great Transformation Of Modern Alchemie by the Great Master Alchemist Duvencrune - Volume IV, she open the book randomly to the entry called The Viridi Sanguine, Study by The Great Master Alchemist Duvencrune and started to read it out loud while feeding the toodler:

Dear Reader, not long after the events of The War of the Many Dragons, I went to the Cercan Kingdom to observe the festival of Summer, and I was most interested in attending the famous dance swords of the Battlemages that I heard so many marvels about.

However, my plans were interrupted by this lovely local elf who insisted on explaining to me The Magician card, the first grand Arcane of the clairvoyant deck used by witches, wizards and others alike to see a glimpse into the upcoming events.

She continues to babble to me, The Great Master Alchemist Duvencrune, that as the first, it would point to new beginnings.

The Mage in the illustration of the card stands with one arm stretched upwards towards the Universe, her words not mine, and the other holding a dagger pointing down to the earth. His positioning represents his connection between the Magic realms and the Mortal realms. Ridiculous, I know. She continued by enlightening that it is also known as The Mage using this relationship to create and manifest his visions in the physical realm, to be a conduct that converts energy into matter.

On the table in front of him are the four symbols each Mage knows since the day they lean to walk: a cup, a signet, a sword and a wooden staff. Each symbolises one of the four elements, and I quote: “water, earth, air and fire.”

It also shows that he possesses the tools and means to manifest his intentions. Above his head is the infinity symbol, and around his waist is a snake biting its own tail.

The elf tried to provide examples of how this demonstrates a signal that he has access to unlimited potential. I really tried not to laugh at this point.

She showed me the card details of an array of foliage and flowers in the foreground, blossoming and fruition of his ideas and aspirations.

I replied to her with all respect that the first time I saw it, many complete full cycles of the seasons ago, I found that the illustration was far from the complexion of a young man but the ones of a fierce young woman. Of course, she laughed at what she considered a joke and kept me company the rest of the night, intrigued, as she said, by my mysterious charm.

I was at the time very annoyed to have missed the event of the dance swords distracted by her non-stop babbling and found it outrageous when she refused to accompany me to my temporary logging.

It wasn’t hard to convince her with a small Alquemic Signet of Chains to follow me. We ended up spending the night making love. She didn’t move much or talk as much as her behaviour at the festivals, and I liked that.

However, waking up and seeing her tears of joy in the morning warmed my heart, and I even could feel her body shaking by the results of our passionate night-time. I truly wanted to kiss those beautiful pink lips, but I was reluctant to remove the stitches that kept her carnal moanings at a low tone.

I remember how I looked at that doll’s face, with her eyes closed with the help of a few careful stitches, those ruddy cheeks, and voluptuous lips closed.

Dear Reader, it was tough to contain my manhood, but as The Great Alchemist Duvencrune, I had to play my part and not let my desires get the best of me.

As a genius of alchemy and science, I always brought my tools ready to perform any needed experiment. It would be a shame not to share such an experience with my lover.

Hence I infused her with 10mg of Caeruleo Sanguine, otherwise known as Blue Blood which I took the sample from my own veins. So I was sure of the high-quality component that I was practising. I was in the hope that by injecting her with my superior genetics, her Viridi Sanguine would evolve to something new, a brand unique genetic.

Alas, after a few seconds of the procedure, her stitches shattered her eyes and mouth free. I had never heard such a creature shrieking with the silence of pure illumination. But, due to the early signet I applied, she still couldn’t move or scream if my wishes weren’t those.

The lovely elf started to have a clonic seizure, even still and rigid as a beautiful doll, to the point I could pick up her bones cracking as twigs.

She was finally declared dead after drowning in her own blood. What a sincere shame and I do appreciate peace and quiet women. Strange that I cannot remember her name. Douvencrune, Great Master Alchemist.

 

 

 

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