Princess Edriane sent me on my way and spoke to her sister about letting me train after getting registered into their system so they can monitor my state of life. I don’t have a core so in her words, it’s better than nothing despite how vague it is. She had also insisted I drop the honorifics but that is too quick of a jump from our previous relationship. I can tell from the look of her eyes that she hated me but now we’re calling each other by name.

Well… I’m calling her by name, she just calls me hero. It has a nice ring to it but I’d rather it be more casual.

Half the day was taken up by the very brief history lesson and Q and A. I had not a single idea on how to return to my room and tear drop Uma was nowhere to be found. The maids I tried to approach avoided me in every possible instance. So finding directions proved to be difficult. I somehow passed through a spider infested hallway and ended up in a dimly lit room that looked unused and worn down. A significantly different interior to what I’ve seen throughout my day here. But it is more visually interesting than the cave I first woke up in, that's for sure.

Nothing really captivates me aside from the ticklish dust that victimised my nose, that was until I took a better look of my surroundings. Each wall was decorated with portraits of the same woman. She looks young, the red of her hair overtook the entire portrait, very wild and messy. Reminds me of what I look like every morning. She looked young and unmotivated. A strange, seemingly empty look in her eyes that contrasted the smile on her face. A tense and uncomfortable feeling washes over me. All the paintings gave me discomfort. All the paintings looked like that. The difference is what she’s doing in the portrait. Mostly she was standing, sitting, posing for the portrait and in a few she was working on something. Holding what looked like a soldering tool on earth, goggles, gloves and sparks to complete the look. Her shoulders are more relaxed. Her expression is hidden due to the equipment but she seems more… alive in some way.

“Do you feel conflicted observing her?” A low, quiet voice of a woman who popped out of nowhere and appeared by my side says. She was blonde, golden even. Stronger than what Edriane has on her head. And her bejewelled red eyes glimmered with wonder.

My heart pounds in my chest and having a sneeze coming up doesn’t really help. What the fuck. Where did she come from? And why is she here? I didn’t hear the door open. Where did she come from? Where did I come from?

She asked me a question right? I should reply. It’s rude not to reply. “A little bit. Art is usually up to interpretation, is it not? But I can’t help but feel that this one has a story.”

“It does. The woman in this portrait is a very impatient one. Known to have a nasty temper. You can imagine that she despised how long portraits took. Especially when the artists want to capture her beauty and essence completely.” Huh so red heads having anger issues aren’t far off. Aunt Amettie is sort of a red head, more ginger like ginger lady but not so orange. Wait… now that I think about it she may be more blonde. Strawberry blonde? So maybe not all redheads have anger issues. Maybe it’s the blondes. Huh. Blondes. “She seems happier working than sitting for portraits. She is a mana engineer. The first. Lady Kree.” Oh a mana engineer like Saint Rubaine.

“What is she making?”

“A rain shower. She wanted to provide water for people who lived in desolate grounds. Their solid dried up in a drought, so she wanted to help them. She utilised the mana and the affinity of water in her vicinity and channelled it into her devices until she crafted mana stones that powered her creations even without interference.” Woah.

“Lady Kree is her name right?”

“Yes. This room where we stand is where she last greeted all her children. Her daughters put up portraits of her as their father, her husband destroyed her memories in grief…”

Damn. “What an asshole.” SHOULD NOT HAVE SAID THAT.

“He restored them soon after. But her face was only left in the people of Gemmas at that time. All depictions of her are now only inspired by her childhood portraits.”

“Still a bit of an asshole.”

“She hated her portraits.”

I’m confused. Is he a good person or a bad person then?

“I hope she had a good life.”

“A good life for her is the success of her creations. Especially on the ones she spent the most years on and loved more than her own kingdom.”

“Did she get what she wanted?”

“We have yet to find out.”

“How do we find out?”

“What if you read her journal?” Oh, that’s a great idea. Oh. Wait. Isn’t that an invasion of her privacy? Yeah. Yeah it is. So no. No-read-journal.

“No… That’s not very good.”

“Does it matter much? She is long dead and gone. I reckon she won’t complain if you were to read a few lines from her journal.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to disrespect her. That’s her privacy. She’s still a person despite not living and breathing among us.”

“You’re right. But… She was not a very sentimental one. Her journals are rarely about her personal thoughts, more of her inventions, ideals, research and results. As she always said, “You have taken my heart, I will not let you have my mind.”” I don’t find that to be a good enough reason to invade her mind since she has stated that she doesn’t want anyone getting into her head.

“You’re strange.” So I’ve been told. But that is beside the point-

From beside me to in front of me she stationed herself. Now she holds a book entitled “My Greatest Creation” She has a sly smile on her lips and she pushes the book into my hands before promptly descending into the darker parts of the room. I hear doors open and a familiar voice calls out to me.

“Oh. There you are. Everyone’s been looking for you everywhere.”

The person that came last night. They stood at the doorway, laughing to themself before motioning me to come out.

“How is it that you end up in the West wing? This is the Imperial Family’s quarters. And this room is closed off for a reason. Did you touch something? If you broke or took anything in there, the thorn princess will grill you alive.” She'll do what? Well at least I didn’t take anything-HOLY SHIT THE BOOK. I HAVE THE BOOK.

I nearly shook in terror and threw the book on the floor. The latter bursted out laughing and rolled their eyes. They crouched down and retrieved the book, sifting through pages with a strange expression on their face. They sigh, shut the book and dusted it off before handing it back to me.

“You’re an odd one alright.”

“Sorry… I’ll put it back. I.. I didn’t actually take it though. Some lady handed it to me.”

“Lady?”

“Yeah… I think it was a maid or something. But she wore…” What did she swear? She was adorned in jewellery too. Her golden locks in braids and tied with blue string that had crystals soldered at the ends to weigh them down. Rings on 5 fingers on her right hand and bitten down red nails. That’s what she looked like. That’s what I remember she looks like.

“Was she blonde with red eyes?”

“Yeah! She was!” Huh. Is he a psychic? GET OUT OF MY HEAD!

“Was her hair short or braided?”

“Braided.”

“Ahhhh. That was Delana Crystallis Ember.” Ember?

“Is she a relative of Edriane?”

“Edriane? To address the Princess so casually is a scandalous deed now, hero.”

“No-she told me that I could call her-”

They laugh to themself, slapping their knees to get the full effect and lean on the wall for support. “I’m messing with you. But yeah, in some way they're related. They haven’t met.”

“How come?” Illegitimate child? Affair baby?

“Delana is one of Saint Rubaine’s daughters. Princess Edriane and her haven’t met because she’s been dead for about 658 years.”

“She’s been what?”

“Dead.”

I SPOKE TO A GHOST?? HOLY MOTHERFUCKING SHIT.

“You’re….you’re joking right?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“GHOSTS ARE REAL?!” 

They continuously giggle at my despair. I probably look like a crazy person right now but I cannot believe what news they just sprung up on me. Ghosts??? Really? GOD WHAT IS THIS GOD. GHOSTS?! AT THIS DAY AND AGE? NO. EVEN IN ANOTHER WORLD?!

“Good graces. You should have a mirror on you at all times. Your jester impression is court worthy. But yes, Delana Ember is long dead. But that is not the most important matter at hand… Tell me, what is that book and how did you end up in the west wing? This is not an easy place to enter. Even I struggled to get authorisation for stepping foot on this ground and you seem to have just waltzed in.”

Oh. Did I just waltz in here? I don’t think I did? If I did then I didn't notice. “I… I’m not really sure. Princess Edriane cancelled my schedule and I was only trying to get lead back into my room but everyone was ignoring me. So I tried to find my own way but there are so many twists and turns and I just ended up here.”

They shook their head and playfully scoffed. Swinging their arm onto my shoulder and getting my feet started. “Come on. Give me a better story than that.”

“It’s true tho-”

“Alright. Alright.” They don’t believe me. They rolled their eyes again. How rude. “But what about the book?”

“Ah… It’s about Lady Kree’s Greatest Creation I think. Do you know anything about it?”

“Lady Kree’s greatest creation? The Lustrous Julias.”

Huh?

“I thought Saint Rubaine made Lustrous Julias?”

“Yes. Saint Rubaine is Lady Kree. Goddess of Creation. Lady Kree from the Crea of creation.” OH. CREA FROM CREATION. 

“Are they the same person?”

“Yes. Lady Crea is an alias she used when testing out her inventions. All her inventions are signed by her. So if you see something similar to work but it doesn't have her mark of approval, stay away from it. It’ll spontaneously combust.” Spontaneously combust? It’ll explode? IT’LL EXPLODE?!

“Her mark of approval is…?”

“Her alias. Crea. or L.C. Just something to watch out for.”

They don't let me get another word in and just lead me out of this place. I don’t remember passing by this hallway, despite my worm-like memory, I remember the interior of the hallways I entered to be similar to the one in the room. Very dated compared to the ones in the small office that Edriane taught me in or the dining room. Everything was covered in gold and smooth stone while the room was simply carpeted. The wall had interesting dynamic patterns, unlike the plainness of their more “modern” area.

“Word of advice, never utter a word about what you saw today. Don’t even tell anyone that you were in this wing. There is no need for unnecessary things.”

Got it. “But what about the book? Maybe I should return it-”

“No. No. You can’t go back inside. Just keep the book and never mention where it came from. Just say that it’s your journal. Nobody will hold it against you.”

They’re weird. Acting is very weird. Pairing it with the curve on their lips tells me that something happened that shouldn’t have. Maybe I should return the book.

I’ll do that later.

“Okay…” I’m still going to return this book.

“Great! Anyway, you better get some rest. You’re getting registered the moment Sol shines so you better be prepared. We’re going to get some training done right after the festivities so that you won’t get beat down by the crow’s lackeys yeah?”

I nod despite not understanding the rush of things but I guess the end of the world does call for urgency. Still, maybe they should take more time in preparing me for the horrors-maybe not horrors but the ugliness of this world because all I’ve seen are pretty things. Shiny and pretty things.

I wish I could bring Aunt Amettie here to see the pretty things but considering the lingering sense of apparent death is at their door I’m glad she’s stuck on earth. I hope Edriane stays true to her word and ensures my safety because like hell is Aunt Amettie going to worry. She already has other things to think about.

I wonder what she’s doing right now… If time works differently here and on earth she’s probably still watching a melodrama. No… or is it still night? Maybe she’s still asleep.

All that thinking has somehow led me to the room I’ve been staying in. Shiny headed person gives me a smile and tells me to rest up again. Everything blurs together in between as I remained conflicted with what to do with the book as it felt wrong to read it but I did not want to risk getting lost and talking to a ghost again. I stuff it under my pillow and just hope I can put it back before we leave wherever we’re meant to go. I don’t want to be a thief or anyone that defaces properties.

I have no idea when I dropped and slept but I do know Uma and a couple other maids woke me up by waterboarding me. That was not very pleasant.

I could barely wrap my head around what's happening but somehow I am now dressed in the most ridiculous outfit I've ever dressed in my entire life. And Aunt Amettie handled my Halloween costumes. Unlike the manageable garments I was in yesterday, a white ruffled polo and loose pants that made me look like a typical drunkard in stories. I am now in a tarnish green colour of an attire. I don’t know what to call what I’m wearing but I look like somebody who wore non hypoallergenic jewellery on their entire body and slapped on some tight boots which are quite pretty if I do say so myself but everything else is just ridiculous. The collar is suffocating and the cuffs are cutting off my blood circulation. Yet the back is cut and left me exposed.  Then a skirt attachment flares out in every way possible that I step on them. The rings on my fingers are heavy and the head piece is the worst part. A coronet with spears that were cutting up my forehead and random gems cut so unevenly that I want to disregard any significance it might have and just chuck it. And wait… The absolute monstrosity is my hair. They brushed my hair out and like the bootleg inventions of Lady Crea, my hair exploded, frizzed up and stuck out in so many places. I couldn’t even protest as I only had the liberty to gaze upon myself when they were finished and finally handed me a mirror.

I am no fashionista but this is something I’d see on a high fashion runway, with only one production and the designer long dead and still will dislike it. Get this off of me. I’d rather wear my underwear again than this.

“Is this… I don’t want to be rude… But is this really the final selection? Not…Not that the outfit doesn’t have it’s merits I-I just-”

“Had you woken up early you would have seen the choices. Had you followed instructions yesterday, you would have had a choice.” Her voice dripped with venom and dismay. Uma held her head up and stared at me from under her nose. She is noticeably shorter than me, I can see the open window past her head without even raising my chin yet somehow I feel smaller. 

I don’t like that.

I feel like I’ve done something wrong. What did I do wrong? “I’m sorry.”

“You should be.” she says sternly, “Sit and be quiet here. Wait patiently until I come to retrieve you.” Uma turns to leave and the others follow suit.

I sat dazed on my bed still dreading my reflection. God I hope that doesn’t last.