Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Masquerade Ball (I)

"Do you feel that?'' Valda questioned, pushing a flute of champagne towards her.

They stood by the large colonnades of the ballroom, hidden in the dim-lit alcove, observing the masquerade party that unfolded before their masked eyes. Sparkly, elegant gowns swept the large, golden-lit ballroom, tail coats glided in harmony with the beat and the crowd rhythmically tapped their feet to the lively music. It was an extravagant, lively evening at Tyria.

Ayra wordlessly took the flute from Valda's hand and raised it in the air before washing the crimson liquid down her throat. When it failed to calm her nerves, she grabbed another flute from a passing attendant and quickly chugged it down too. Neslyn did the same next to her.

Valda scoffed and looked ahead, sipping on her wine.

"I'm taking that as a yes, then." She said, answering her own question.

"It feels different from the Ruins," Ayra said, brushing a hand against her silver mask, her eyes subtly roving over the entire ballroom, searching for someone.

Searching for him.

Ayra shook her head, reprimanding herself for even expecting him here. She groaned internally and fixed her mask again. The tiny crystal drops of her mask tickled her cheekbones and she fought the urge to remove it.

Her gaze sweeped over the straight-backed and shoulders-squared guards that roamed between the crowds, weapons hidden under their fancy garbs. However, that's not the only thing that caught her attention. She felt it in the air—the ancient energy simmering here. She felt it curdle through her bones, her heart and her mind.

It was a daunting feeling.

"Of course, it's different from the Ruins." Valda tapped her feet twice on the ground. "Gavin Florence sleeps beneath after all."

Neslyn winced, slightly paling. "Don't say it like that."

"Did I lie though?"

No. The witch didnt lie.

Somewhere beneath this ballroom and this manor, the fourth Sentinel, Gavin Florence rested.

And so did the Fourth Gate.

The Seven Gates were spread apart across the world, concealed by thick woods, raging volcanoes, deep blue seas and snow-capped mountains — dangerous terrains devoid of mortal behaviour.

All the Seven Gates except the fourth one.

Because the Fourth Gate lay beneath the heart of a city and inside the very home of the fourth Sentinel.

That very fact made this mission more perilous than the last one, solely because of the innate, daring location of the Fourth Gate. The Gates, even though posing as protective barriers, still served as nectar jars that attracted a horde of demons that continued to plague this world. And while the First Gate was shrouded with woods, the Fourth Gate was barricaded with lives. Innocent lives.

That was the reason why Tyria was the only city in the continent to have magical wards along its borders. Even talented Astral Guards, once finished training, are stationed at this very city for protection, since the Gate was right under their noses.

Literally.

Ayra looked towards the dias and at the magnanimous portrait hung on the wall. Gavin Florence's warm, youthful smile and big doe eyes overlooked the ballroom.

Ayra wondered how Gavin felt when his home was split into two and demons poured out. She wondered if he was ready in that moment, ready to sacrifice his life and protect the world.

What were you thinking in your last moments, Gavin Florence?

She had a lot of questions, questions that only the Sentinels would be able to answer.

"I must say though, the Florenz Lord is stupidly audacious to organize the ball right inside the manor. Didn't he see the blood on the walls? It's like he wants something to happen," Valda grumbled, nodding her head towards the dais where Lord Ethan Florenz heartily laughed at whatever his fellow peers raved about.

Ayra observed his carefree smile and bit the inside of her cheek.

"Tyria did not face what Azyrnia did. According to them, the tales of the Gates and the demons are just that. Old tales. You can't truly fear something you've never seen," Ayra replied begrudgingly.

Neslyn slightly fixed her long pale, sky-hued gown and sighed. "The ignorance is still alarming but we can't really blame them. And since the existing citizens of Tyria have been under protection for a long time, all the stories about the demons outside are simply tales carried to them by the wind. Nothing more, nothing less."

Valda simply groaned in response.

A group of people passed by them, some shooting sceptical glances at the three young, hawk-eyed women who don't seem to budge from the shadows of the pillars.

"Guys, I think we are doing a piss poor job at being inconspicuous," Neslyn said, wincing.

"We should probably go dance. Go mingle and blend in." Ayra offered, noticing a few men hover close by, hesitant to ask them for a dance.

Valda crossed her satin gloved arms, one raised and unconsciously playing with the emerald earrings that matched her deep emerald dress. "I'm staying here and keeping an eye out for the Viper. I'm sure she's close---"

"Oh, look here. The three infamous wizards of Foxerall Academy." A voice cut in, sharp like the poisonous thistles of an ivy.

The three of them turned around and stilled.

Cressa Theagen stood there in all her glory, a hand on her hip and a smirk on her painted lips. She didn't wear a dress, instead, she adorned fighting leathers and a crimson cloak. The black feline-shaped mask she wore was the only item of clothing that fit tonight's theme."

"Hello, wizards. Fancy seeing you here. Can't say I'm too surprised though."

Oh, shit.

"Speak of the devil and she shall appear," Valda crooned.

Cressa rolled her eyes.

Neslyn stepped forward, "You knew we were coming?"

Cressa inclined her head and observed them carefully before answering. "Danelle informed us of your arrival, just not the exact reason behind it. She merely asked us to safeguard you three from danger," She tched, "As if we didn't have enough on our plates already, we are now to babysit the oh-so-precious infants of Foxerall too. So fucking annoying.''

Valda bared her teeth. "Does a day go by without you being the bitchiest bitch of all, Viper?"

Cressa smirked haughtily, "If that were the case, then the sun wouldn't set at all, witch."

Valda stepped forward. Ayra quickly placed herself between them and faced the Guardian.

"So, Mother Danelle informed you that we were arriving?" Ayra questioned again. She now understood that it was Mother Danelle who had opened this pathway for her. A part of her was overwhelmed by the sudden wave of gratitude that washed over her.

And a part of her regretted what she did.

"Yes, she did. It's strange though, she didn't want you three on official duty but she allowed you guys to come here." Cressa leaned forward and whispered, "Did you three run away from mama bear?"

Ayra looked at her for a moment before smiling. "We're simply here to enjoy the festival, Cressa."

Cressa straightened up and eyed the strap and the edge of her blade peaking out of the slit of Ayra's long, silver dress.

"Sure, Stormbreaker. Whatever you say." Her gaze sharpened. "Don't take me for a fool, though. You can fool us all, but not me."

Ayra tilted her head, "Whatever you mean by that?"

"Something happened back at the Ruins, didnt it?"

Ayra didn't let her impassive face waver.

The Guardian continued, "You seem cagey after what took place in the Ruins. So, it makes me wonder if you're hiding something from us." She stepped towards her. "What is it, Stormbreaker?"

Ayra fought the urge to swallow. She slowly curled her fingers and felt the wind blanket her.

Valda placed herself in front of Cressa. "Back off, viper."

Cressa didnt pay any attention to her though. Her eyes were still dead set on Ayra.

"Secrets are poisonous, Stormbreaker. Careful which ones you hide. Some will eat you from the inside."

Ayra felt a chill run down her spine.

All of a sudden, music boomed through the ballroom—swift and lively. People laughed in surprise and slowly gathered at the centre of the ballroom, arms reaching out and encircling each other.

Cressa glanced at them and back at the three students of Foxerall.

"Let's go dance, wizards. You're here to have fun, right?" She smiled humorously.

And just like that, with those parting words, she took off and disappeared into the crowd.

"Oh well, that went well," Neslyn commented, grimacing.

"I hate her," Valda seethed.

Ayra simply sighed.