| lurkers of the shadows

"Thank you, Elane, you can go now," Arcel waves a lousy hand to shake off the maid now that they have arrived at his tower door. His Lair.

"Young Master, I was ordered to escort you inside. I mustn't leave half—"

"Shh, I'm hungry, I'd rather like my breakfast to be in your priorities now," Arcel rudely cuts in, pressing his lips in a thin line and narrowing his cyan eyes at the maid. Awfully condensing, he looks as he aggressively flicks his hand to shoo away the responsible lass.

The maid curtsies for she had no other choice. "As you wish, Young Master. I shall bring it right away," she promises, before walking away. Another new day of senseless demands with the Young Master.

Arcel grins, having lost the robotic shadow, he runs up to the far end of the allure and calls out, "You can come out now! I saw you!" For as soon as he had made it halfway through the allure, Arcel had noticed the small hands of Vasil clutching the railing as he lurked within the shadows, probably hanging off of the circular bars decorating the allure.

And indeed it was Vasil's golden eyes that peek between the concrete globes upon being called. The ravenette backflips, black robes fluttering as he semi-circles elegantly to his feet. Arcel claps with utmost fascination, cheering on the spectacle as if a circus audience.

"Haven't you eaten already? I reckoned the maid who came for Iris had brought your food." Vasil greets, dusting his palms on the side.

Arcel nods, still fascinated, as he replies, "I'm sure the Kitchen maids wouldn't die if they cook me another breakfast. Iris and you haven't eaten yet." Arcel walks up to Vasil and grabs a hold of his wrists.

The latter is momentarily awed by the young Prince's thoughtfulness. He hadn't considered Arcel to be a person who would actually engage emotional sentiments of concern for anyone but his own self. So, he let Arcel grab a hold of his wrists.

"For if you both don't eat, whose going to have fun with me?" Arcel scoffs, narrowing his eyes on Vasil. "Talking of fun, where did you disappear to?" He questions with an eyebrow raised in curiosity. His chubby fingers toy with Vasil's charming black cufflinks.

Vasil gulps. Yes, this is the Arcel he knows. Why did he try to pretend that the little prince would have empathy? It didn't run in his blood. "Ah, well, I see that your hands are okay now." Vasil states blandly, clearly avoiding to answer. He cannot outright confess that he was hiding from anyone who isn't Iris or Arcel whilst trying to search for the necklace again.

It seems to have disappeared off the face of the Duchy. Getting it off of Arabella's neck had been much easier in comparison.

It irked Vasil. The longer he delays his search, the longer he'll have to play pretend with this little young Prince and the pauper he was infatuated with.

"Well spotted, you did. I passed it on to Ronne. Oh! Talking of Ronne! You missed the part where she was trying to attack Iris but I single-handedly took her down!" Arcel proudly declares, blowing stiffly through his nose. He proceeds to drag Vasil on the opposite direction of his tower. "But don't just disappear out of nowhere like you did today. It seemed almost suspicious. It was as if you were up to no good," Arcel grumbles, turning to narrow his eyes at Vasil and grin widely.

Vasil coughs, awkwardly being dragged by the prince. He did not know the Prince was capable of taking down a full grown maid. Then again, he was indeed the first prince of Maynard. It was the least one could expect of him, from nothing. "I'll try not to, I was just searching for the restroom," Vasil breezes through the lie. "I couldn't hold it ever since last night."

Arcel contours his face into a cheeky smile before announcing a little too jubilantly, "Well you now have to pay the price! You will clean the kitchen! Did you know Lady Crimson ordered Iris to clean it all by herself? I bet you a breath she would be struggling. It'll be so fun to watch!!" The kid giggles evilly and all Vasil can do is be dragged in tow.

.

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Ronne wakes up in a cold, dark dungeon with an ear piercing scream that violently rattles the confining bars of her cell. Alarming her wits out of senses.

Sucking a breath, the brunette gets up with haste, scrambling around to check if all of her limbs were in tact. Roaming hands caress her body with relieving sighs. All was well in physical terms.

Until, a scorching breeze scalds her back. Ronne jumps away, shrieking incoherent prayers to no god in particular. The wall behind her glows molten for a few seconds. Glaring red as if on a mission to barbecue her as a whole, before going pitch black.

Her heart thunders erratically in its confines as dread washes over her. Realisation strikes with no malice, but embraces her in cold acceptance.

She had been discarded to the Occido Prison.

Chills race down her spine as the scratching of claws, scribbling of crawls and ghostly drafts acquaint themselves with her.

The brunette tosses and turns in the cell, trying to a safe spot among hysterics. Cowering, crying and face a mess, she suddenly hears someone tsk.

And then, hiss.

Her attention snaps to the darkest corner of the bland cell only to witness red irises and black slits fixated to her face.

Another ear piercing scream rattles her cell and Ronne too jumps the bandwagon of shouting for her life.

A woman all but floats out of the darkness. Her skin a snowflake white smoothening into yellow scales over her ample breasts, withering around her slender belly and thickening into circles down and after. She has snakes for legs, hissing and slithering in all directions. Her forehead is bejeweled with colorful scales and they expand over her head in a breathtaking pattern. She slithers toward a captivated yet freaked out Ronne, pleading for her life, "Please don't kill me! Please don't eat me! Please! I am not at all tasty!"

The snake woman bursts into a demure laugh before hissing out a reply, "I only eat once every three years."

Ronne cradles all of her body to her chest and sighs out in relief.

"What are you in for?" The snake woman inquires, voice thick and laden with a hissing accent. Ronne counter questions her.

"Because I'm not you," the snake woman snickers, red slits eyeing Ronne up and down before hissing. "Or like you."

Ronne nods, understanding the sentiment. She wasn't a Draconian Blossom, but a Creature of God. The only two main divisions of their world, Wreath. Suddenly, she feels less threatened now.

"Now, answer." The snake woman hisses as her snakes inch closer to a cowering Ronne. Concluded too soon, Ronne realises as she presses her legs closer to her chest and almost sucks in all of herself.

"It's because of a kid!" Ronne instantly glowers and the snakes stop slithering. The serpents retreat placidly, but the same doesn't apply for Ronne's heartbeat. She sighs out, before continuing. "She hurt the Prince, so I was trying to teach her a lesson. But something happened - I don't know what, but my sides were burning and when I woke up I was here." Ronne describes without any vivid details, awfully bland in snake woman's opinion.

"I smelt mermaid on you, no wonder."

"No, she is a Vampire!" Ronne instantly refutes, now being absolutely creeped out by the fact that snake woman never blinks.

The woman slithers closer to Ronne, intrigued as the yellow of her scales fades into a pale red. "A Vampire? Are you certain?"

Ronne nods her head vehemently. "Certainly! I have observed her! And there are tells! She has pale skin! She lurkes in the shadows and the Lumines never follow her!" The brunette announces with a clap, unintentionally shifting further away from the light.

"That is absurd. Lumines follow anyone with magical trails. It is their sole purpose. And did Willow not lose all its vampires during the Drift?" Snake woman counters, scales fading into blue now.

"The drift?" Ronne raises confused eyebrows.

Snake woman pulls her lips in a condescending scowl before elaborating, "The Festival of Priscilla, for you uncultured folks."

Ronne nods in understanding. Yes, now that made sense. Priscilla was the wife of Virae and her deathday is celebrated all throughout the Wreath. Legend has it that upon her death, the Wreath broke apart into seven lands out of sheer misery of her loss. Nevertheless, the distribution was considered a Gift from her Spirit which further helped them establish the Seven Empires of Wreath.

Though, the Creatures of God, who do not worship Virae, call the Gift a Drift. Something to do with their gemini sorcery that Ronne had no knowledge of.

"Oh, yes, we did," Ronne agrees to the segregation, "But I'm AWFULLY sure she is one. I just need to prove how the Bernadettes got their hands on one!"

Snake woman slithers a circle around the small frame of Ronne with amusement perking her face.

Another ear piercing shriek rattles the whole prison and sucks the soul out of Ronne. The brunette trembles with fear, pressing her hands over her ears and shoving her head between her legs.

"They're shaving a beastman," Snake woman informs. "Their efficiency for growing hair equals their detest of parting from them. Immense."

Snake woman's blue scales fade into a scarlet as all her snakes merge into an elongated tail. She coils Ronne with a considerable distance and the brunette is surprised to feel warmth within the circle.

"Why are you being so kind to me?" Ronne squeaks out, unsure of how to react. All her life, Ronne had only fought for what she deserved to own. She had always been the one who keeps herself safe for after being abandoned, she had no one but herself to count on. No kindness came without a price tag.

"Well, why, I'm not really hungry— and I could do something else..." Snake woman trails off, ruby slits hovering over Ronne's decently endowed chest. She hisses.

"I have magic!" Ronne all but sobs out, trying to channel it but failing. Instead, she holds her arms over her face in a cross.

"...but you're not my type," snake woman scowls with her lips. "And, you bring information from the outside. I haven't been out of this place for the past six years." She smiles.

Ronne looks at her concerned.

"So tell me about everything."

And Ronne does.