~Florence

  Heat. Hot…breath, or it might be steam. I feel cramped. Trapped—powerless. At the same time, I know it is not me. I long to s t r e t c h my back and arms…and my…wings?!

  I am myself once more and see…my dragon. I’ve missed her! Gold, coral, pink, and lavender. She is giant, then she is…not. I do not understand, but it feels normal—I do not panic. I am happy to see her. She is more substantial than a fluffy cloud, so I am able to hug her snout. She rumbles softly, reminding me of a cat's purr.

  Young one, she calls to me, young one, take heed—you must remember Raius. That one will need you.

  Raius? I do not know the name, but I tell myself in my dream to remember—I can only hope I will.

  Young one, she says, danger approaches. This ancient one cannot protect Raius in the physical…world. Raius is the last of this ancient one's kind.

  “I thought you were the last?” I speak to her, but not with my tongue. Though strange, it feels natural to do so.

  She shakes her wispy head. No, young one. Long ago, with the last sliver of this ancient one's life, a precious egg was made. But this ancient one had to abandon it to join the ?ther, where this lonely one has walked since. Waiting. The egg rests in this ancient one's bones, waiting.

  “The ?ther? Is that the hellscape?”

  No, young one. The ?ther is like a river. She pauses, then draws a river made of shimmery vapor in the air, with small branches leading off of it. There are…tunnels to other planes, such as the hellscape this young one inhabited. Ah…I must go.

  “No! So soon…” Already, she fades, back to the familiar fluffy cloud I clung to for so many years.

  Remember Raius, young one, she calls to me, her voice growing softer.

  As if sensing my will slipping away, she trumpets loudly, as she used to.

  I gasp, waking in a cold sweat and breathing hard.

  “Raius!” I say to myself. “Raius…Raius…I need…write it down…”

  With my mana, I summon the first notebook that comes to mind and write down the name—

  Raius.

  As soon as the pen leaves the page, exhaustion consumes me, as if I’ve just completed training with Sir Thorne. I shove the notebook under my pillow, and barely lay my head upon it before feeling sleep come to claim me once more.

  ????

  ~Duchess Adeline LaVelle

  Adeline LaVelle sat in a chair by the window in her room. She was dressed in a soft, warm, white nightgown, a lavender robe edged in lace, and she wore soft lavender slippers on her feet. A soft blanket was tucked around her in the chair as she sat, motionless, staring out the window. Her pupils were tiny black dots in watery hazel, but she did not look away from the sunny view.

  Her daughter was awake. Florence was awake. She had known this for some time now, but every morning when she remembered, it was still a shock. Somewhere, deep, deep inside her, she felt a hint of relief. But it was a single stitch attempting to mend a heart ripped in two.

  Adeline was broken and had been for years. She had lost the will to live, and love. Failure after failure with Florence had chipped away at her delicate nature. Addie had been loving, yes, but she was also soft—not a fighter by any means.

  She first gave up on Florence, and then shortly after, she gave up on herself. Barely a year after Florence fell asleep.

  For the first time in their twenty years of marriage, the Duke and Duchess had moved into separate bedrooms—the Duke unable to bear the listlessness of his wife, and the Duchess unable to bear the pain she knew she caused him.

  She was completely aware of her apathy, her detachment from the world, which is why she decided to remove herself from it. Addie simply could not make herself care about anything—not anymore. Not her husband, not even her own children.

  So, every day, Addie looked out the window, watching the seasons change in the garden. Once, quite recently, she saw Florence sneak out of the annex. It was the first time since becoming ill that something stirred within her—a forgotten feeling. Curiosity. Since then, she’d kept a closer eye on the garden, in case she caught a glimpse of Florence, knowing that a glimpse was all she deserved.

  The debut had been…a nightmare. Because she had grown so physically weak, Elaine had held her up. As soon as Addie saw her daughter, she knew it had been wrong to let Madam Rosanna be in charge of everything. Florence looked miserable—while Addie didn’t feel guilty, she knew she would have if she were capable.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  But she hadn’t been able to say anything. She hadn’t been able to move. Her body had failed her. She had felt something that night—frustration. Perhaps even anger. It was the first time in a long, long time that something had evoked a reaction from her. Perhaps...even if she was broken, she might be put back to—

  “Good afternoon, Your Grace,” Madam Rosanna said, striding into the room with her usual brisk sense of purpose. She was wearing a court-regulation ensemble and hadn't bothered to change out of it yet. Ah, the meeting at the Royal Palace must’ve been today. “How are you doing today, Your Grace?”

  Because Madam Rosanna was so used to Addie’s silence, she continued talking before Addie could respond.

  “I’m not sure I should be the one to tell you, but I feel you must know…” Madam Rosanna walked over and perched on the chair opposite Addie and grabbed her hands, as was her habit. “My lady, His Royal Majesty has labeled Duke LaVelle a fool, and it’s all due to Lady Florence, the poor girl.”

  She tsk’d.

  Addie opened her mouth to speak, but Madam Rosanna continued, “His Majesty said the LaVelle Duchy is no longer in his favor—that Duke LaVelle would have been whipped if not for his mercy! Whipped! Like a common thief! It is truly unfortunate Lady Florence attracts so much trouble.”

  “Now, I have a plan,” Madam Rosanna continued, sitting back in the chair. “I—

  “No,” Addie said softly, finally finding her voice.

  Madam Rosanna stopped, a smile frozen on her face.

  “My lady?” she asked.

  “No,” Addie said again, looking out the window. “Leave her be.”

  The words had been no louder than a whisper, yet the silence stretched after.

  “A-as you command, my lady,” Madam Rosanna said, getting to her feet. “I will let Lady Florence be, until you…or the Duke, commands otherwise.”

  Madam Rosanna left, leaving a cloud of rose perfume behind. Addie finally, after all these years, knew better than to trust Madam Rosanna at her word, but surely she wouldn’t lie about something so serious as the King calling her husband a fool. As for it being Florence’s fault…

  Addie sighed. The poor girl had been blamed for enough.

  She needs me, she thought. But how can I?

  Addie was so weak physically after letting herself waste away for years. But it wasn’t just that. When she’d heard the news that Florence was awake, she hadn’t felt anything. It was as if Claude had told her the cat had woken up from his nap. It was insignificant. She’d managed to tell her husband, “That’s good,” and even forced a smile on her face, but Claude knew it was fake.

  Claude understood her well enough by now to know it wasn’t her fault she felt, or rather, didn’t feel a certain way, but she knew it still hurt him. How could it not? So, he’d had to face Florence by himself, he alone bearing the aftermath of her awakening.

  How could she face her daughter like this? At least Elaine knew the truth of it. She knew what to expect from her mother. But Florence wouldn’t know that…Florence would see someone who couldn’t even pretend to be happy to see her.

  So, it had been better to say she was ill.

  At least, that’s what she’d thought at the time. Perhaps that had been a mistake, too. Her daughter was nineteen now—almost an adult in the eyes of Dorandian law, and she had treated her as if she were still twelve.

  “How can I?” she whispered to herself. Where could she even begin? Should she write a letter to Florence explaining what happened, and let Florence decide if she even wants to meet after all this time has passed?

  If not Addie, then who else would try to mend these things? It shouldn’t fall to Florence—she is the one who suffered far more than any of them.

  Madam Rosanna could no longer be left to roam unchecked. Addie had trusted her for years, had even considered her a dear friend, but lately…lately…

  Perhaps shutting herself away from reality might also have something to do with her unwillingness to pull back the curtain on her suspicions. But that might be difficult to do unless she hired some new attendants.

  “If only Ursula were here,” she murmured, thinking wistfully of her strong, talented, younger sister, who also had a scathing tongue when angered. But it had been several years since she’d written. Had Ursula given up on her, too? Addie shook her head.

  She’d give herself a short list of things to accomplish—she’d write a letter to Florence and talk to Claude about hiring some new attendants.

  Surely, she could do that much?

  ????

  ~ Mount Doran Research Division (MDRD), Mount Doran

  “Keith, Keith! Get yer ass up here and take a look at this,” Professor Darnel shouted down the dirt track the team had just dug the day before.

  Thirteen pairs of eyes looked up at him, bright spots of amber, green, and blue on their muddy faces, though Keith was always recognizable by his hair. He had been allowed to keep the blue color, since he was young enough to pass as a recent graduate, thus more prone to unconventional hairstyles. While cyan was not as natural a color in Dorandia as it was in Liutan?ia, readily available hair dye made it slightly more common. As long as he spoke flawless Dorandian, there was no reason to suspect Keith wasn’t a natural citizen.

  “Yes, Prof?” Keith asked. The two had been friends before joining the Mount Doran Research Division, the name of the fake research team that served as the front for Liutan?ia’s infiltration into Dorandia. It was hard for Keith to see Darnel as anything but his friend, however, Darnel was a powerful mage. “Think you found it?”

  “What do you think?”

  Darnel stepped back and let Keith take his place in front of the rockface, which had seemed like an impenetrable wall of granite a moment before. But from the angle Darnel was standing, there was a seam about an inch wide. Keith put his hand up to it to confirm what he felt blowing across his face—warm, steamy air.

  He turned to face his friend, who was already grinning.

  “We’ve found it, Keith! We’ve finally found the bloody thing,” Darnel said, eyes moist with relief. “A way in.”

  ?? The next several chapters will focus more on our normal crew. But that doesn't mean things aren't happening in the background...muahaha!

  Thanks for reading! Lots of love,

  xo??kb