“How puzzling…” Doctor Ramoul said.

“Puzzling? Am I…am I being weird…?” Ryunise’s throat caught in a pocket of air

“Doctor Ramoul? What is wrong with my daughter?” Marcaes’ voice had cooled like a licked candle flame.

There it was; the emotions had gone out of him. He was Commander Captain of the Second Air Knights Regiment, the Royal Bladen, and Elemenfang. The very atmosphere in the open garden had chilled even in the blazing midday sunlight. Suddenly the sky seemed so high, as if looking up from a stony prison cell and teased with a tiny skylight of freedom. A spatial pocket or a dimension had opened up, and neither sound, plea, or life would be able to escape. Even the very thought of breathing would alert a dark, unforgiving warden.

For a brief moment, Ryunise clutched at her heart. It was thumping, pounding, beating desperately as a rabbit would in the jaws of death. Her lungs were tight. It was squeezing. The once soothing tea for her nerves began to boil in her stomach, as if alive and wanting to run. To flee. And her throat closed up, as if an unseen hand closed a finger one. By. One. To squeeze. To squeeze. To crush.

It’s crushing me. I can’t breathe. I can’t…! Ryunise could feel the very cells of her body scream.

In the next moment, she was calm. A hand had slid through the terror jail and dissipated the bars holding her so tight and immobile. Her eyes were cleared of their unblinking muted film and all she could see was Lucard. His light and feathery silver chalice hair framing his perfect, gentle crushed sapphire eyes. The sun-kissed mocha of his skin, and the unmistakable scent of sandalwood.

There was no prison. There was no fear. There was no hand. And she could breathe. She was saved. But a tear fell small from her eyes.

Why do I feel so sad? As if I’ve felt this all before, she thought. As if it wasn’t fair. A cruel, hurtful joke.

“I will to have it confirmed first. My Lord Emerodelle,” Ramoul bowed low on one knee in front of the towering Order Knight, “I will withdraw for today. Your daughter is in very good health.”

As if that one motion, that one fluid like water, of Doctor Ramoul, appeased the obscure warden to let him live. He knew better, and knew instantly. He was the family’s doctor, and by now let no one else accompany him to the Emerodelle House. Once Marcaes had the double Gods reach out their hands, there would be no more talk. It was time to leave, else the Knight will come to slaughter.

“I would even suggest Milady can have more sweets if she chooses. She still needs to gain more weight,” Ramoul bowed low as well to Ryunise and the Duke.

Lucard’s shining eyes were dead wide on the careful doctor, mirroring the Holy in a universe of blue, as if the very eyes of God be upon him. One wrong move. Just make one wrong word. One wrong heartbeat. Deception and soul be damned to suffer the fires of eternity.

Partha was shaken, but she assisted Ramoul, handed him his cane and then escorted him out of the gardens. After they rounded the corner, he patted the poor maid’s hand on his arm, both of them supporting one another as they walked the halls. Sweat beaded along his brow and upper lip. He had experienced this time and time before, but it never got easier. Even with the blessings of Melphina the Compassionate, the power of a God was not to be witnessed with a weak heart.

Ryunise swallowed slowly. She was quaking, but not as bad as before. Lucard had taken off a glove to softly wipe at her tear. It was as if two lions were waiting at that moment; that thin, splitting moment and breath from lethal violence. No trace of the humans that they just were, no heart, no soul. Just the shell housing the power of Holy, Baphis, and June.

“Papa…?” She softly breathed.

“Mm?” Marcaes turned to her, then smiles. He was back, her father, her Papa, his love and heart. The Gods had returned him back to her. Marcaes reaches down and lifts his little girl in the air with a supportive grip, “Did you hear that, Nise? You can have more sweets! Let’s have some, shall we?”

“Yes, please!”

She was lightly sweating. I better not think about it. Try to put it out of your mind, think of the alphabet, think of 2 x 8, think of cream and chocolate…

“And me, too, My Little Lady?” Lucard pointed to himself with a smile. He was also back, and the world was right again.

“Get your own daughter,” Marcaes clutched her against him, and she gave an ‘oomph!’ against his great chest.

“Papa! I said don’t be mean,” Ryunise tried to break free for air.

“Aw, fine...” He mumbled into a rounded cheek, then snuggles her firmly. He whispered to her, “I’m sorry for scaring you…Papa is sorry…”

“It’s okay, Papa…” She hugged him tight. She couldn’t help it, smiling faintly and feeling his sincerity and fatherly tenderness, “Papa just wanted to protect me…Uncle Lucard helped, too…”

“What? Uncle?”

“Ah! I much rather you call me your betrothed, My Adorable Little Lady!” The Duke smiled. Now he was just purely messing terribly the father. Or at least she hoped.

“I will cut you. I will cut you into a thousand pieces. I will cut you into a thousand pieces, then drown those pieces in a river of oil fire,” Marcaes flatly threatened.

“B-be...tro…” Ryunise stammered. Idiot father. Idiot Duke.

-*-

Several days had passed. Marcaes had returned to work the day prior, and Ryunise spent most of her time asleep. It seemed the exposure to three Gods had caused a negative affect on her well-being, but she wouldn’t dare say anything. Her energy was so drained she barely touched her chocolate, and couldn’t have a moment in her own thoughts. The feeling of dread around her neck and heart had not completely disappeared.

A quiet knock to her door roused her embracing sleepiness, “Nise?”

Ah. It was Ryunise’s mother, not mine. Mine would just come in and sit on me, she thought as she rubbed her eyes.

“Yes, Mama?” Ryunise yawned.

Anjina walked in after a maid. Her hair was a wiry obsidian that reached her middle back, and has always pinned it in a jeweled clip. Ryunise’s mother was a soothing and polished woman, but had a fierce and savage tongue tucked into her cheek should anyone dare insult or snide her. Apparently when Anjina met Marcaes and one of his soldiers’ eye was drawn unwantedly by her sister, she let him and the Commander Captain have it. Marcaes was hugely intrigued, never experiencing anyone destroy him like Ryunise’s mother had. Anjina had kind, even and sincere ashen gray-blue eyes that could turn an ocean-blue green on a perfectly sunny day. Ryunise could stare into them, hearing the waves in her mind, the sands tingling her toes, the salt tasted on her skin.

But these were her own muscle memories, not Ryunise. As far back as she could tell there were no beaches near here. Why did I suddenly think of that? What is a beach?

“How are you feeling? Your father told me what happened,” She next to her, the plush sinking just barely, and rests a hand on the blanket.

“I’m okay, Mama. I guess I’m just still recovering,” Ryunise smiled faintly, “How are you…?”

“I’m good, sweetie. Can you see me?”

“A little. Not much has changed, I think,” Her daughter rubbed an eye and yawned.

“I see…Nise, Doctor Ramoul has sent a message, along with an invitation.”

“An invitation from the Doctor?”

Anjina slipped a hand into her pocket. She was wearing one of her fancy dresses with several hidden pockets sewn into them. Mother really was resourceful. She was head of a knit-and-stitch club of ladies looking to share and create more than just embroidery. Today it was a peaceful cream pink smoothed long to the floor and a ruffle of white at her collar with a brooch.

“Yes,” Anjina held up an open letter, and a sealed envelope, “Right here.”

While the maid lightly tidied up the room and opened two windows to circulate air, Ryunise sat up. Then she paused when she saw the envelope. It was the dyed art of plum and wine, an unmistakable trait and choice. The wax seal was also intricate, gold and silver meshed, with the holy seal of an orb nested upon six sprouting wings and a sword pointed up in the background. The Sacred Oraclast Church had sent an official invitation with the Orb of Attrition on it. This seal alone had the power that rivaled the royal family.

“Why would I be getting…?” Ryunise began to ask.

“Read the letter from the Doctor, Nise.”

The girl shuffled the loose leaflets on crisp parchment. She was surprised that it was much larger writing than anticipated, though she was grateful for it. It was very fuzzy, and took time to squint hard, but she was able to read out loud, “Dear My Lord and Lady Emerodelle, and My Lady Ryunise. I hope this letter finds you well, and please pardon my actions in the garden previously—”

“What happened in the garden?” Anjina blinked. She was secretly relieved that her daughter could still read, albeit slowly.

“Ah, nothing, nothing,” Her daughter smiled, albeit a bit nervous. She knew her mother would be stomping down poor Ramoul’s house like a hot-pokered bull in a second. Not sure the specifics as to how or in what past memories, but she wasn’t going to take any chances.

Ryunise read on, “Let’s see…after I left, I have written an inquiry to the Sacred Orclast Church. As of right now I’m unable to perform an advanced examination, and so I’ve requested my colleague to give My Lady Ryunise a full look-down. There is no cause for alarm, I assure you. It’s just for precautionary measures, or perhaps it will present some light…”

She moved to the next page, “My Lady Ryunise’s condition is excellent and on track to returning to her former person. However, I am concerned about her site. There appears to be nothing physically wrong with them, but it is curious that she expresses unable to see clearly to this day. Please await a message from the Sacred Orclast Chruch once they have confirmed and considered my words. Send for me should there be any changes. With respectable regards, Doctor Ramoul James.”

Her head ached a bit, and her eyes strained. It was a lot to do, but what was this invitation?