Work Text:
Are you sure you want to do this?
Hapi posed the question to herself, standing with her bag draped over one shoulder and a hand on the doorknob. She turned back, gazing at the dimly lit furniture in the only home she knew, and thought it over one final time before the desire to see the world pushed her out into the night.
Being from the hidden village of Timotheos had its advantages; Hapi had been taught basic survival out in the wilderness, and she was relatively comfortable relying on herself. She wasn’t sure how much she would end up needing those skills, but was grateful to have them just in case. The first few weeks were as she expected. She went through the food she packed at a steady pace, found climbable trees to rest in away from bandits or predatory wildlife, and got to see the beauty of the world outside her village. When her food began running low, she would forage for carnivorous plants she knew tasted extra delicious, as well as berries and the like. Meat was harder to come by—she disliked hunting, didn’t like the thought of killing the small forest creatures. She’d been told it was a side effect of her crest that animals were drawn to her. True or not, it would feel wrong to exploit that. Regardless, she couldn’t subsist on berries, so the next time she passed a town, she went in.
“Go home, little girl,” the people on the street would say. Others would write her off as an orphan, especially the longer she went without a proper way to wash her clothes. She supposed she did look rather dirty, but there was only so much she could do while limited to river water, and she certainly couldn’t help her age. Eventually she would find someone willing to barter with her, although she found the sympathy even more distasteful than the scorn.
“Does your mother know you’re here?” asked the shopkeeper as he eyed the coins she placed on his counter. She had asked for some smoked meat, and he looked back at her like she couldn’t possibly have acquired that amount of money without having stolen it, given her current attire.
“No,” she answered honestly, her pale red eyes staring back at him unflinchingly, waiting for him to either grant or reject her request.
Shaking his head, he took the coins and gave her what she had come for, mumbling under his breath about “street urchins”. Hapi couldn’t quite make out what he said, but she didn’t care. She took the meat and was on her way again before too many of the townspeople could memorize her face. She didn’t want to be known as a resident, she only meant to pass through. Always transient, constantly moving, that was how she kept herself going.
As she left this town, she noticed a white animal studying her from a nearby hilltop. It was striking in its appearance; medium-length fur as white as clouds coursing its body, with the claws and face a shorter-furred red. Atop its fluffy white head was a matching red gemstone that gleamed like the seafloor in shallow water. The animal’s furless tail curved downward, doubling back to form a second point before returning to its hindquarters. Out of the side of its head protruded what Hapi could only guess was a blade. If the animal were to hold an elongated knife by the hilt and point it backwards, it would nearly resemble the same shape. Despite the sharpness to it, the creature’s calm temperament and open manner of watching her reminded her more of an overbearing parent than of actual danger. She cast it another glance, and seeing no movement from it, put the matter aside for the time being.
When the winds grew colder and she began to see snowfall, she knew she had trekked north into the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. Had she known it would be this cold, she might’ve chosen to head south or east instead, but to turn around now would be counter-productive. Still, after a second night trying to sleep in an icy tree in the woods, she lamented that with the onslaught of these storms she would need to find actual shelter.
Standing on the tree’s branches with a tight grip on the trunk for balance, she scanned the surroundings in order to find warmth, but the snow had done more than just give her chattering teeth; it also decreased her visibility to the point that she couldn’t find a speck of light amidst all the white.
Climbing down, she plopped down cross legged in the snow in defeat, watching as the snowflakes landed on her legs, surely able to cover her entirely if she lingered for too long. But what am I to do? She was contemplating practicing beginner fire spells or simply shouting for any nearby travelers when she heard a light thud behind her and spun at the hip to see what caused it.
Close, much closer than she realized, was the animal that she had seen outside the last town she visited. She was frozen in more ways than one as the creature took the remaining steps between them. It stood a little shorter than a pony, and the mane around its neck swayed with its gait. Its teal eyes exuded intelligence and for a moment, Hapi wondered if it would speak.
“Hello,” she offered, her mouth remaining slightly open as she took in the regal sight of the animal. “It would be nice if you didn’t eat me.”
It blinked, and uttered a low, “Sol…”
She tilted her head, puzzled, but decided this creature would already have eaten her had that been its intention, and rose to her feet. “Were you following me?”
Rather than answering her, the animal began to circle her. She cautiously stood up, brushing snowflakes off of herself and waiting for it to… well, do something already, she thought impatiently. As it reached the opposite side from where it had come, it paused and tilted its head upwards with the blade side highest, preceding a massive gust of wind that threatened to topple Hapi’s small, frost-decorated frame by a few seconds. With remarkably quick reflexes, the animal leapt to her side and caught her; Hapi landed with her arms over its back, and couldn’t help but to give the fur below her fingers a scratch. Warm and soft, like a puppy, she mused with a grin.
She noticed it was looking back at her expectantly, its body still angled to allow her to reach its back.
“Am I supposed to climb on?” she asked, earning a soft, catlike blink in return. “I don’t know if this is safe, but… what the heck,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders, and hopped on.
Wrapping her arms around its neck, she held on tightly as it bounded gracefully through the blizzard, weaving between trees and over stray roots. Whether it was superior eyesight or familiarity, the creature had no issue evading dangers as it ran. As they came to a more open area, the winds whipped at Hapi’s eyes, forcing her to close them—she was unable to open them again until she felt that they had come to a halt. Unclenching her arms and sliding off, she noticed the nearby light of a town. The animal had brought her to a village? Huh.
She thanked it, and it wordlessly took off back into the woods.
Hapi holed up in that town for the remainder of the snowstorm, minimizing herself in a corner of an inn where she hoped no one would take offense and remove her. She counted herself lucky this particular town didn’t seem to view unattended children as a nuisance. Those who did see her looked at her with sympathy; there was one particular woman who appeared to work at the inn whose concern grew with every stray glance in Hapi’s direction. Only a matter of time before she comes round asking where my mom is, Hapi knew.
As if on cue, the woman approached with a cup of water, setting it down within Hapi’s reach. “Would you like something to eat, dear?”
Hapi considered. She was hungry, but the woman wasn’t simply asking that—she was asking as a precursor to further questions. Weighing the benefits of cooked food over uncomfortable questions, she decided this lady, whose name tag read ‘Deirdre’, looked nice enough and accepted.
Deirdre brought her a sandwich and some fruit, passing them along before she started to leave, and hesitated.
“Is there someone with you, child?” she finally asked. This was not an uncommon question in her travels. People weren’t used to seeing a nine year old out unattended outside of the slums where the orphaned children gathered.
With a mouth full of sandwich, Hapi couldn’t respond, and shook her head instead. Deirdre seemed conflicted, but this wasn’t of interest to Hapi and her attention wandered. Peering out the window, she thought she caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure leaping from rooftop to rooftop—as if searching for someone—and straightened up in surprise. Finally, the shadow landed on a roof beside a taller building with a wall sconce and she saw, once again, the white animal from the forest. It was partially obscured by snow, but its red face and bladed horn were clearly visible in the flickering light of the fire. Deirdre leaned over to see what her young patron had reacted so strongly to, and stiffened when she caught sight of the animal.
“Oh,” the woman muttered darkly. Her tone startled Hapi and she shifted her eyes from the window.
“What? What is it?” she asked, her pale eyes now locked onto the woman.
“That critter out there is a bad omen,” replied Deirdre with a grimace. “I’m not too fond of seeing its kind in these parts.”
Intrigued, Hapi set her sandwich down and rattled off a series of questions. “What’s a bad omen? What is that animal? Do you see lots of them around here?”
Deirdre laughed with nervous amusement. “So chatty all of a sudden! Well, we call those Absol. They tend to appear before disasters, so after awhile most people began to view them as the cause of the disasters. I’m not sure if that’s true. Even if it doesn’t bring calamity itself though, seeing one is a sure sign that something devastating is coming. It wouldn’t have come down from the mountains for any other reason.” As an afterthought, she added, “They also aren’t usually that color.”
“They aren’t?”
“Wait just one moment,” the woman directed before making her way into a back room out of sight. A few minutes later she returned with a handwritten, worn book, and leafed through it to find the page she wanted before handing it to Hapi.
The page had a drawing of the animal, although this drawing had blue in place of red, along with several lines of text and other identifying information. Hapi ran her finger along the lines as she read.
Absol – Harbinger of Disaster
Swift as the wind, Absol races through fields and mountains. Its curved, bow-like horn is acutely sensitive to the warning signs of natural disasters.
It senses coming disasters and appears before people only to warn them of impending danger.
“But… this is the third time I’ve seen it,” Hapi replied, her brows furrowed in thought. “Nothing bad’s happened to me.”
The lines on the woman’s face deepened as her face gave way to concern. “Are you sure, child? You’ve seen that animal three times now?”
“It saved me out in the woods,” she explained. “I didn’t know where I was and there was so much snow. It carried me here.”
Deirdre’s face relaxed. “I see. Perhaps it took a liking to you and foresaw that you’d have succumbed to the cold had it not stepped in. You do have the same red hair,” she smiled.
Hapi touched a hand to her hair absentmindedly. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d brushed it and guessed it must’ve looked a mess. “Maybe. But why is it still here?”
“That’s a great question,” Deirdre said with a frown. “I don’t like the thought of you running about alone with an Absol on your heels. You aren’t going anywhere for a bit in this storm, so I’ll see if I can find arrangements for you in the meantime.”
True to her word, by the time the blizzard cleared, she had found a noblewoman from the capital that had also been passing through who was more than willing to take the runaway in. This noble had overheard her discussing the child’s plight with others and her curiosity was piqued—Deirdre brought her to meet Hapi, and after a few questions, the woman assured her that she has plenty of food and a safe home in the capital where Hapi would be welcome.
“No more getting by in trees or the odd inn here and there,” she said with finality.
The way she assumed Hapi’s acquiescence irritated her, but she couldn’t think of a better option. At the very least, this woman was offering her a ride to Fhirdiad, and the thought of walking there herself given the frequent snow was sounding less inviting by the minute. She didn’t need to stay, she figured—she could get some food, repack her bag, and if she got lucky the woman might give her clean clothes as well. With this in mind, Hapi hopped into the woman’s caravan, studying her as she engaged in conversation with the man that joined them.
She certainly had the markers of wealth. A gold circlet on her forehead and a matching gold necklace with a hanging key both gleamed with a purity that commoners wouldn’t be able to afford. Her long, peach-colored hair was styled elegantly and had a pleasant smell. What Hapi didn’t understand was the woman’s outfit—why someone would expose so much skin in such a cold climate was beyond her. Every now and then, she’d pass through a town where she’d see women in similar fashion, and any adults that found her near those establishments promptly shooed her away, but those areas had been further south.
“Remind me your name, child,” the woman said, now settling her attention onto her.
Hapi realized she had been staring and averted her eyes. “Hapi.”
“Where are you from?” asked the man, his gaze scrutinizing and sharp.
“I, um…” Hapi trailed off, her usual lie falling off of her lips as the man’s unnerving presence unbalanced her. Before she could stop herself, the honest answer was drawn out of her with an unfamiliar forcefulness. “The village of Timotheos,” she said breathlessly. Her eyes widened at her own admission.
“Do you bear the crest of Timotheos?” he continued.
She gritted her teeth and made an effort not to, but the words spilled out regardless. “I—um, yes,” she confirmed as she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat.
“Do your parents know where you are?” Seeing her hesitation, he added, “We don’t intend to send you back or contact them, if that troubles you.”
“No, I left without telling anyone,” Hapi admitted.
The woman shot the man a smug smile. “See? She’ll do.”
“Yes, yes,” the man conceded. “A most fortuitus find, Cornelia.”
Pale red eyes flicked between the two adults for clues, but when none came, she asked, “I’ll do for what?”
Cornelia’s smile turned sweet in the way older people often gave children in an effort to pacify them. “I could use a little help with a few things, nothing too big, I assure you.”
Hapi frowned, uneasy under the weight of these assurances. She hoped she was worried over nothing, but the way she had felt coerced into the truth rubbed her the wrong way. The text she’d read at the inn flashed through her mind—it appears before people to warn them of impending danger. Shuddering, Hapi wrapped her arms around herself protectively and leaned against the side of the caravan, keeping to herself for the rest of the trip.
Cornelia’s castle was grand. For a child from an isolated mountain village, the elaborate infrastructure and design of Fhirdiad was overwhelming, and to be not only a sightseer but an inhabitant of such a place was more than she could’ve ever imagined. She wasn’t allowed to leave the property, but that was fine. She had so many rooms to explore, books to read, enchanted objects to examine. As long as she promised to stay out of the basement and not leave the property, Cornelia provided her with anything she requested to eat and not only cleaned her clothes but procured new ones for her as well.
Distantly, she remembered her desire to replenish her bag and resume her journey, but Cornelia had confiscated it after they arrived. Hapi couldn’t remember the reason, but wasn’t too concerned. She’d likely get her bag back soon and can start planning her departure then.
When Cornelia was around, she spent more than half of her time with Hapi. Seeing magical talent in the child excited the mage and led to more time spent together. The more they practiced, the clearer it became that the redhead’s magic was fiercely destructive. Fire magic came naturally, and she even succeeded in imbuing minor amounts of a new, colder arcane energy that morphed the flame into a more controlled, black type of fire with Cornelia’s guidance. Nowhere in her village or throughout her travels had she seen a fire this color; the depths of the mage’s knowledge clearly extended far beyond what Hapi could even think to ask.
If Hapi got lucky, Cornelia would bring her along when she had business outside the castle. They rarely went out during populated hours, and for the most part, all Hapi could do was observe; she was forbidden from speaking to others. Part of her knew these rules were oppressive, but she had been growing so much under the woman’s tutelage and was taken care of so well that she disregarded what she wasn’t as fond of about her current situation. It wasn’t too difficult to obey when there was more to do in the castle than outside of it most days.
Once, while Cornelia was away, a woman who introduced herself as Patricia had come by and inquired as to Cornelia’s whereabouts. Hapi was conflicted on if she was allowed to speak to her, but the woman wouldn’t take no for an answer. The tight, polite smile Cornelia had when she came home and found Hapi had befriended Patricia betrayed her disapproval. Surprisingly to Hapi, Patricia’s visits became recurrent and Cornelia begrudgingly allowed it. An unasked question over this woman was answered months later; Hapi came to know Patricia’s identity as the queen regent, and thus above Cornelia’s authority. She was grateful for this, as it allowed her a friend.
Her favorite excursion had been the one to an animal keeper. Cornelia had given her permission to not follow directly behind her as usual, and she had befriended 2 canines, a horse and 3 birds before Cornelia asked if she’d like to bring one back to the castle with her. The impulse to accept was so powerful that Hapi nearly forgot she intended to resume her travels and wouldn’t be able to care for it. A nagging voice reminded her she never meant to stay long-term in Fhirdiad and she pointedly ignored it.
As they left the keeper, Hapi cast one last wistful glance at the wagging tails and lazy tongues behind the fence, and was struck by the presence of one she had entirely forgotten—Absol. Every bit as regal as the last time she’d seen it, the white creature balanced atop a fence post of at least 15 feet in height, its eyes finding hers with ease.
“What about that one?” Hapi asked, pointing at Absol and looking up at the older woman hopefully.
She’d seen the animal enough times now that it felt familiar to her. Where at first she felt only apprehension, she had since begun to feel drawn to it; a magnetism, as if Absol knew it was meant to be her companion, and was waiting for her to realize and return its loyalty. Why else would it linger when its home was in the mountains? There’s no disaster, so it must be here because it likes me, reasoned a youthful and optimistically naïve Hapi.
Cornelia turned and a wry smile crossed her lips as she identified the animal. “Do you know what that is, child?”
“Yes, an Absol,” Hapi quickly replied, recalling the book’s detailing of it. “’The harbinger of disaster’. That one is red like me.”
“So it is,” Cornelia chuckled, a knowing glint in her eye. “Quite the beast, I’d say, and a wild one at that. The keeper holds no authority over such a creature. Now come, I have other matters to attend to.”
As she was led away, Hapi waved her goodbye. Absol’s passive, intelligent expression didn’t leave hers for as long as she was in sight. One day, I hope it chooses to come with me, she thought to herself, crossing her fingers as she did.
A year or so into her stay, a castle servant awoke her with a message; report to Cornelia at once. She waits in the basement. Curiosity bubbled within Hapi, who had been explicitly told not to explore the lower levels until now. She hurried to meet Cornelia, taking the steps two at a time until she entered a well-lit and substantially sized room enclosed with stone walls and lined on one side with shelves filled to the brim with books. Hapi had spent time in the castle library, but some of the spines on these shelves bore symbols she hadn’t seen before. They were shades of black and purple, with serpentine or bestial markings, and the text lining the majority of them were unreadable to her.
“Have a seat, child,” Cornelia directed towards the chair in the center of the room as she herself sat cross-legged beside a high table of peculiar tools.
Hapi obliged, and as her gaze fell over the opposite side of the room, she was thrown by the unexpected—cells. The kind used for the imprisonment of criminals. Only these went a step further, as she caught a glint of steel or silver chains on the inside.
She stiffened in shock. “Lady Cornelia? What are those for?”
The older woman gave a quick look to the subject of Hapi’s question before dismissively waving off the question. “Oh, for emergencies. Nothing that will concern you.”
Hapi raised an eyebrow at Cornelia’s nonchalance. The woman was busying herself with the tools on the table and not paying much heed to the redheaded child staring at her from the center of the room.
“Are you enjoying your time here?” asked Cornelia calmly.
“Sure,” Hapi replied. She noticed her seat was nailed to the floor and thus rendered immobile. I don’t like this room, she thought.
“Wonderful,” said Cornelia, more to herself than Hapi and with a twisted smile that the child found strange. It marred her face in an unpleasant way, replacing pretty features with a design more viperous than a person should be capable of displaying.
“So… why did you want to see me?”
“You’re going to help me with a little experiment. All you have to do is sit right there, understand?”
“I guess.”
Pale red eyes converged on the tome Cornelia plucked from the wall. Dark brown with a symbol shaped like the head of an animal; like the others, the text on it was in a language Hapi didn’t know. Cornelia hovered over the redheaded child with the tome in hand and chanted, the spell incomprehensible to Hapi.
She studied the lines in the woman’s face as the apparent frustration in them grew. Her previously placid face had become shadowed by the touch of malice and the chill in the room seeped its way into Hapi’s bones so rapidly it felt like she was still in the snow-capped forests being blanketed in unforgiving snows.
Despite this, Hapi felt no other change, and Cornelia must’ve known this as she cursed under her breath. She tossed the tome haphazardly and scribbled a few notes before sifting through and landing on another. This one was the color of a moonless night and the weight of it was evident in the way Cornelia adjusted her grip to carry it; she set this one down on the table and carted the entire setup over rather than holding it as she had the other. Like the first, this tome also resulted in nothing. It took a few weeks of failed attempts and angered cursing on the older woman’s part before she found a tome with more than a simple change in temperature as an effect.
To Hapi’s horror, the impact of the newest tome was both excruciating and immediate. From the moment Cornelia began chanting, an all-encompassing, heated pressure on all sides of Hapi’s skull burst into existence, threatening to pop her head like a grape. She threw her hands up over her ears and screamed; tears welled up in the corners of her eyes and she cast a desperate, pleading look at the mage for her to stop.
Cornelia’s face lit up. Her eyes gleamed. Lips curled into a cruel smile. Everything about the older woman’s expression indicated to the child that her pain was not a deterrent—if anything, it was as if Cornelia had finally broken through to what she wanted.
When the spell ended, Hapi doubled over gasping for breath. A couple tears fell from her face and she struggled to regain herself. At the edges of her consciousness, she heard… laughter.
Cornelia was laughing.
“I don’t want to do that again,” Hapi finally said, her voice quivering with her shudders. “Please, I don’t want to—”
“Oh, but you will,” interrupted the mage as she whirled around with a manic enthusiasm. Hapi flinched.
“It hurt,” she whispered fearfully.
“Manipulating the blood often comes with side effects,” explained Cornelia as she lowered herself to put them eye-to-eye. “After all I’ve done for you, surely you can endure a little pain for me.”
Hapi was at a loss for words. She did owe this woman a debt she could not repay. Cornelia took her in. She was well-fed, safe from the elements. Wasn’t this the least she could do? The thought of being subjected to that pain again frightened her, but she came to the conclusion that if she cooperated, the experiments would end sooner and Cornelia would be satisfied. She could leave then… at least, she hoped she could.
She nodded, and fought back the tears as she settled back into place.
She lost count of how many attempts Cornelia had made to bend the Timotheos blood in Hapi’s veins to her will. The mage introduced more obscure magic, incorporated tools Hapi suspected not even a butcher would wield, and wouldn’t hesitate to remind Hapi of her debt when the girl would break down sobbing, begging for the agony to end. When even guilt couldn’t placate her, Hapi was introduced to the inside of the cell. Chains weighed down her wrists and sleep became less of a necessity and more of a way to escape her reality as she leaned her head against the stone wall.
The passage of time blurred into either the presence or absence of pain. She spared a thought as to whether her birthday had passed and how many times, only for it to be drowned out by the screams—hollow and distant, yet somehow still belonging to her. She screamed to relieve the tension in her muscles rather than out of a hope someone would hear; even if they did hear, Cornelia drilled it into her that no one would care. She’s a runaway. No better than a street urchin, no more needed than another child leeching off of the generosity of the townspeople. Her most reliable indication of the passing of years was the change in her body. Only 9 years old when she was taken, she had matured enough now to guess it had been at least a couple years.
In one of her lowest points, Hapi wondered if she would feel the sun’s warmth on her skin again before she inevitably died as a result of this woman’s obsession with Timotheos. With resignation, she knew she would welcome both possibilities, so long as they came with an end to this imprisonment.
Hapi had been obedient recently, and was allowed to sleep on a bed rather than in the cell. Cornelia only consented to this when she was home to watch her, but some reprieve from the cell was better than none as far as Hapi was concerned. Drifting through a surface-level sleep, she barely registered the transient shapes of figures entering the room she lay in before floating out of sight. The shadows weren’t of consequence—all she knew now was fear and pain. It wasn’t until the shadows had shut the door behind them that a familiar voice snapped her back to attention and she stilled, straining to hear.
“What have you done to her, Cornelia?” an angered Patricia demanded, her voice carrying from the room beside Hapi’s.
“She’s cared for,” Cornelia retorted defiantly. “You knew I’d be using her for some research, there’s no need to make a fuss now that I’m so close to success.”
“Cared for?” scoffed the queen regent. “I see the marks, Lady Cornelia. I see the gauntness in her cheeks. She’s what, 13? 14 years old? What could you possibly gain from subjecting a child to whatever Goddess-forsaken research you’re conducting that is worth killing her?”
Hapi shuddered at the mention of her death. It was one thing to wish for it, and another entirely to hear someone else speak it.
“You think me so cruel as to take her life? That would be wasteful.”
“Some would use the word wrong, not wasteful,” the queen hissed contemptuously.
“I assure you, it is for the good of the Kingdom, Your Majesty,” Cornelia replied in a melodious voice that dripped with deceit.
“End this, or I will,” commanded Patricia, before a brief pause and then a heavy slam of a door. She’s left, Hapi thought despairingly, left and didn’t take me with her.
Cornelia’s grotesque excuse for a smile was absent in her next experiment. She was focused on her work, and Hapi was too mentally depleted to comment on it. She knew the routine; Cornelia would read, chant, there would be some form of torture—be it piercing and slicing to reach the veins, sensations of burning or pressurized compression—followed by note taking and cursing that some ulterior goal had yet to be realized. Only this time, when Hapi’s body was freed from the spell’s clutches, she dropped her head with a sigh and a thunderous explosion sounded overhead.
Her head shot back up in alarm and she searched Cornelia’s expression for a sign of what happened. The mage was frozen only a moment before she seemingly flew out of the basement, leaving Hapi alone. Listening intently, she heard what sounded like the destruction of glass and furniture alongside the arcane howling of dark magic, Cornelia’s specialty. When the commotion quieted, the mage returned to the basement with her clothes torn and her hair disheveled. Hapi’s jaw dropped.
“Wha—” she weakly began to ask, before Cornelia shouted.
“It. WORKED!” Cornelia laughed, emphatically taking down further notes before approaching Hapi so rapidly the girl recoiled. “You did it!”
“I did… what?”
“You summoned a demonic beast!” Cornelia gleefully explained. “Think of what we could accomplish with this,” she added under her breath.
“That sounds like a bad thing,” Hapi mumbled slowly, her processing delayed by the effects of the trauma she endured. I summoned a… demonic beast? How?
“It is but the first step! I will learn to control this power,” Cornelia hungrily replied, as if she could gorge herself on this ability she’d unlocked.
“But I didn’t do anything,” said a puzzled Hapi.
Cornelia blinked. “True. How did you summon it? How do we replicate this?”
Feeling it was a lost cause to argue that she didn’t want to replicate it, she closed her eyes and sighed softly. The same thunderous crash heard the first time echoed once more, only the creature manifested in the very room they were in, destroying the ceiling that separated the main level and this underground hell Hapi all but lived in.
The demonic beast had a rough resemblance to a quadrupedal animal, with the claws of a dragon and an elongated head that rounded off into an open maw lined with serrated teeth. Its tongue hung over the side and its eyes seemed disproportionately small. The creature’s muzzle moved as if it could drink the scents in the air, and a growl rumbled through its barrel-shaped chest. Hapi leapt off the chair, her legs nearly collapsing beneath her as she struggled to stay upright. She was drained, and if the beast came for her, she had no hope of defending herself.
Before it could attack, Cornelia stepped between her redheaded prisoner and the demonic beast, casting a dark spell to dispatch the monster while it was still assessing its surroundings. As the spell’s black hole grew above the beast, tendrils of arcane energy slashed at it, ripping it away piece by piece; wherever the black hole touched, the matter was destabilized and absorbed into the darkness. Each additional atom further increasing its size until nothing was left of the beast, and Cornelia released the spell. Hapi had been shown this spell, but when she had made an attempt to cast it herself, the result was far less effective; she conjured little more than swirls of darkness. She thought back to the pleased look on her captor’s face upon learning that the child she had procured was capable of even the smallest amount of dark magic. Was I meant to be her protégé? Hapi felt sickened by the thought.
“That’s enough property damage for one day,” Cornelia said with a tired laugh. “Child, don’t sigh again until I direct you to.”
“What? Don’t… sigh?” Hapi asked in astonishment. “That’s what summoned the demonic beasts?!”
“Evidence would suggest so, yes. You look like you’re ready to pass out,” Cornelia observed, taking in Hapi’s slumped shoulders, half-lidded eyes and labored breathing.
“Probably,” muttered Hapi.
“Go rest in the other room. I will fetch you tomorrow for further testing. Do your best not to sigh in the meantime—I won’t be beside you to deal with the consequences.”
Hapi almost sighed reactively, before catching herself with a groan. She felt as if she had been told she couldn’t yawn anymore, or blink. How was she to police such a subconscious action? She dragged herself to the bed and climbed in, too fatigued to consider what this additional testing might be. For now, she was grateful just to close her eyes, a luxury granted by the good mood Cornelia was in after achieving… what, exactly? Turning me into a monster whistle? Ugh.
Hapi could’ve sworn she’d only closed her eyes a few seconds ago when she was being roused again. Sitting up abruptly, she saw that twisted smile on the mage’s face and her own fell in anticipation of whatever was planned for her today.
She must’ve arranged this while I slept, Hapi thought as she was loaded into the caravan. She briefly contemplated fleeing, but remembered the sight of the mage’s magic the day before and ultimately decided she’d rather not die by having every molecule in her body disintegrated bit by bit. From the window she saw men towing construction materials approaching the castle, no doubt there to repair the damage from the day before, and briefly glanced at Cornelia. She wasn’t angry about the destruction, Hapi noted. Even though it must have cost a fortune to rebuild it.
When they came to a stop and Hapi hopped out of the caravan, she looked around and found that they were on the outskirts of a small town. She wasn’t sure how far from Fhirdiad they were, only that this town was not a part of it; more likely a farming settlement or some minor lord’s territory. Hapi put her hands in her pockets and shifted uncomfortably, waiting for the mage to reveal to her what they were here for.
A strange whirring noise caught her attention and she yelped as a man clad in black apparated before them. Cornelia was entirely unperturbed, having expected the man and greeting him readily.
“This best not be a waste of my time, Cleo,” the man said apathetically. He looked at Hapi, but she felt that the words were intended for Cornelia, despite the strange nickname.
“Oh, don’t be like that, I wouldn’t have called for you had I not succeeded in my assignment,” the mage shot back. “Do it, girl,” she directed at the redheaded teenager sulking beside her.
“But… the town,” Hapi protested. “If it works, the town will be des—”
Cornelia latched a manicured hand onto Hapi’s arm forcefully, digging her nails in and causing the younger girl to cry out in pain. Beads of red trickled from the points in which the nails pierced her skin.
“You will do as you’re told,” hissed the mage as her expression grew cruel. “Or must I remind you the consequences of disobedience?”
Hapi still had nightmares of her memories of resisting Cornelia; before her spirit had been crushed, when she would fight back, and where she writhed under the sadistic torture of the mage as the woman employed every ounce of magic she had to keep her prisoner subservient and terrified. The experiments themselves were agonizing, but even they did not compare to the intentional harm inflicted by her captor when she’d angered her.
Tears brimmed in her eyes and she shoved the memories—as well as the accompanying despair—deep within herself, steadying her breathing once more and facing Cornelia with the slightly widened eyes and vulnerability she knew the mage would be calmed by. The look that signaled she would be silent, and follow orders. Cornelia’s grip on her arm loosened.
Hapi sighed.
A few seconds later, a demonic beast sprang onto the field before the three of them, and while the man laughed in startled amusement and Cornelia shouted, “I told you so!” Hapi snuck in another two sighs, hoping the ensuing chaos would bury them all. After the two additional creatures appeared, Hapi sat down in the dirt and pulled her knees up to her chest, burying her head in her arms as she wrapped them around herself. Please don’t let anyone in the village die because of me, she pled to no one in particular.
Unfortunately, it seemed the man was as adept in dark magic as her jailor, and even with three large, slobbering, aggressive monsters attacking, the two adults had only a few scrapes and tears in their robes once the fight had concluded. The most difficult one to dispatch had been the giant worm—this monster nearly escaped through tunneling, and was eventually taken down but required far more concentration on their part to do so.
“You’ll need to learn to fight these,” Cornelia informed her as the two approached.
Hapi rolled her head slightly to the side so one of her pale red eyes could glance upwards at the woman. “I’d rather it ate me,” she murmured.
The look on the man’s face was thick with disgust. “This is the child you’re valuing so highly, Cleo? At least vermin have some sense of self-preservation. This one has none. Dispose of her now that the experiment is concluded.”
Cornelia tsk’d. “Until your blood reconstruction experiment can be replicated, we cannot afford to lose a bearer of the crest of Timotheos. Perhaps this is only possible with the crest of Timotheos. If you cannot add it to another, we will need her.”
He narrowed his eyes, but nodded in agreement. “I suppose so. Very well then, you may keep your pet. Farewell,” he added, then teleported elsewhere.
True to her word, Cornelia doubled down on training Hapi in dark magic. It was reminiscent of the early years she spent here, when she still believed Cornelia to be kind, and relished in the woman’s vast knowledge. Her younger self would have enjoyed these lessons. Now? She loathed them. Furthermore, she despised her own talents. Whereas the dark magic had been weak when she first attempted it, her most recent practices had produced results so fruitful that the mage had even begun speaking to her kindly again. As if Hapi could simply forget all that happened. As if there was any possibility she would willingly become her captor’s protégé.
The upside to this change was that the experimentation on her had, for the most part, ended. She was no less caged and still forced to refine her dark magic, either through their lessons or as a result of an accidental sigh, but she lived in less physical pain than she had for the last several years. Guilt had settled in to fill that vacancy. Guilt for the towns that were destroyed when Cornelia commanded she sigh in them, the lives that were taken, the families torn apart.
Patricia did visit to ensure her orders were followed. She requested to see Hapi specifically, and was glad to see the redhead free of any visible injuries. Hapi’s psyche had been permanently altered, but even with her limited knowledge on the girl’s treatment, the queen knew that remedying that was beyond anyone’s power.
Hapi had been walking the halls of the castle towards the library when she overheard Cornelia and the queen in hushed conversation. It seemed Patricia had caught wind of the source of the monster attacks, and Cornelia was once again talking her way out of being accused of committing a morally reprehensible crime.
“Do you have any idea how many of our subjects could’ve been killed? Not to mention, House Galatea will struggle greatly in rebuilding their trampled farmlands. Their finances will be impacted for years to come!”
“Their lands were barren to begin with, Your Majesty,” Cornelia replied sweetly. “Surely the demonic beasts couldn’t have created that much more chaos than previously existed there.”
“What about the people who lost their lives, Cornelia? And don’t you blame the girl, you chose to bring her out where she would be a danger to everyone.”
“Blame her?” laughed the mage. “Your Majesty, I celebrate her as my greatest magical accomplishment.”
The queen scoffed. “Have you managed to control any of these beasts? Can she contain them, or command them?”
“Well, no, but—”
“It was a mistake to allow her to remain with you,” the queen muttered, her tone laced with regret. “She will bear the guilt of the lives she’s taken as long as she lives.”
“Nonsense, there have been very few casualties to the monster attacks,” Cornelia replied dismissively. “That… animal saw to that.”
“What animal?” Hapi blurted out, pushing the door open. “Absol?”
Cornelia shot her a look of cold fury for the interruption. Patricia’s expression was instead one of shock and embarrassment.
“How long have you been listening?” the queen asked, her lips ticked downward with concern.
“Irrelevant, she will be listening no longer,” snapped Cornelia.
“We are speaking about her, does she not have a right to know?” Patricia suggested.
“What was the animal that saved the townspeople?” repeated Hapi, ignoring the conversation between the two older women.
“A pest of a white, wolf-like creature that insisted on appearing ahead of us each time. People made the connection and began preparing whenever they saw it,” Cornelia explained, the scowl on her face growing with each word. Definitely Absol, still following me 8 years later, Hapi thought.
“This upsets you?” Patricia asked in surprise.
“Your Majesty, this all serves a goal. The plan won’t work unless—” Cornelia paused, remembering that Hapi was still present, and anger filled her features as she faced her. “Get out,” growled the mage. “I won’t tell you again."
Hapi shuddered and ran out the door, her heart beating loudly. Absol had been appearing in the towns Cornelia took her to, and reducing the casualties of the attacks; the guilt she carried eased a little, knowing the damage had not been as severe as she believed. She’d also learned control in recent months, and the accidental sighs had become increasingly rare. When they did occur, she had become strong enough to slay the beasts herself, sustaining only minimal injuries. Another thought hit Hapi as she replayed the conversation in her head. What was this plan Cornelia was talking about?
She made subtle efforts to find out in the weeks that followed, but Cornelia would not entertain her questions. She spent less time in the castle overall, and seemed preoccupied whenever she was around. The restlessness around her was obvious, and it began to seep into her as well; Hapi hated being locked in the basement whenever Cornelia would leave, but she was no longer chained and had access to a bathroom and some cabinets of food. She would practice fire and dark spells in the relative safety of the dungeon, where the rebuilt walls could withstand nearly anything, in preparation for whatever was to come. She wondered if this feeling of impending doom was what Absol lived with, and why it felt compelled to seek out the cause and temper it. I couldn’t feel like this all the time and not want to do something about it, Hapi knew.
It was on one of these days—or nights, Hapi could hardly tell time while underground—that a new sound broke through the familiar ambience of her captivity. Cornelia’s absence had been uncharacteristically long, and Hapi hadn’t seen or spoken to anyone in what felt like several days. At first, she wondered if the silence had caused her to start hearing things; she held her breath and waited.
An explosion shook the stone walls, followed by screams and several more unidentifiable booms. Panicked, Hapi rushed to the door of the basement and, despite knowing the futility, rattled the door knob in the hopes that this time, it would open.
The door remained firmly shut, and in her frustration she began to pace, attempting to dissect the noises overhead. Why does it sound like there’s rioting and large-scale demolition in the Kingdom capitol?
“I have to get out of here,” she whispered under her breath, raising her palm towards the doorknob and closing her eyes in concentration. She bit her lip hesitantly before shaking off the desire to refrain from utilizing magic Cornelia taught her. If it gets me out, it gets me out.
Tendrils of ghastly arcane energy crept from her fingertips until they converged on the door, engulfing it in black flames that flickered purple at the tips. She had attempted fire magic on the door before to no avail. When Cornelia realized the strength of her prisoner’s casting, she had reinforced the door to withstand any elemental attacks. Hapi hoped the mage would’ve overlooked dark magic, believing Hapi too stubborn to use it unless forced, but despite the darkness consuming it the door remained unscathed.
“Damn it!” Hapi yelled, cutting off the spell angrily. Another explosion went off so close a few pebbles from the stone walls loosened and clattered to the ground. At this rate, I’m going to be buried in here, she thought bitterly.
Between the peaks of deafening chaos outside, Hapi heard glass shatter a floor above her, and the light but steady footsteps of an animal running back and forth. The footsteps would soften and then return, as if the animal wasn’t sure of the layout; Hapi stood still and tracked the noise until it began to lower, and a pause succeeded by a thud sounded on the same level as she. With my luck, whatever this is has come to eat me, she thought. However, even as this crossed her mind, she felt the presence of the animal and a familiar sensation came over her. Her stomach twisted with anxiety and she stared at the basement door, hoping to see the harbinger of disaster burst through rather than a starving wolf or demonic beast.
A growl carried through the door as the animal attempted to push it open. Failing that, Hapi heard nothing for several seconds; she was about to resign to the idea that it had given up and left when she heard it cry out and the door promptly split open in the center, a pink gash sliced through diagonally as easily as a knife cuts through butter.
It hopped through the opening, gracefully landing in front of Hapi. A smile lit up her face and she knelt down to hug Absol. She had grown taller than when they had first met at eye level in the snow-capped woods, but scratched her fingers into its fur all the same.
“Still warm and soft,” she said, recalling that first meeting. “Like a puppy.”
“Sol,” it replied, and she noticed its white fur begin to glow. Stepping back, she watched in awe as Absol’s entire body was bathed in this light; the shape of the horn grew thicker while a second, smaller horn sprouted on the opposite side, and the fur around its gemstone lengthened on one side until it hung over its left eye just past its face. Most impressively, behind its shoulder blades sprouted two large, white-furred wings.
“Wow,” Hapi said as she reached out and touched one of the wings. “You kind of look like an angel.”
At this Absol sat on its haunches and blinked at her, tilting its head slightly as if to say, uhhh sure?
“You were trying to warn me all this time,” she whispered solemnly. “About this place, about… Cornelia… Everything I went through, you sensed it was going to happen, didn’t you?”
“Sol…” it answered her in the same low, drawn-out voice. Hapi could feel sadness radiating off of Absol. At least the manipulation of her crest hadn’t removed her connection to animals.
“Thank you for showing up for me. It must be hard to know terrible things are coming and not be able to stop them,” she contemplated. “For what it’s worth, it comforted me to remember that you cared enough to follow.” And what in Sothis’ name is going on outside, she quietly wondered as another scream pierced her ears, causing her to wince. “We need to leave.”
Absol ran ahead of her as they escaped the basement and hurried up the steps. Shards of glass below one of the windows indicated that was where Absol had entered, but Hapi directed it to use the front door alongside her, not wanting to risk the glass cutting either of them.
The city streets were alight in both fire and frenzy. Buildings had been damaged, thieves sprinted down the streets looking for easy targets, and people yelled and screamed at each other in chaotic rage.
“What the hell,” Hapi said with an exhale, shocked by the state of Fhirdiad. “What happened?!”
Absol growled and Hapi snapped her attention to her side, where a rough-looking man with wildness in his eyes came at her holding an axe. She froze.
Before he could lodge the weapon through her skull, Absol leapt onto him, catching his chest with its front paws and driving him backwards so he landed on his back with a thud. The cracking sound of his head hitting the cement made Hapi nauseous, and she averted her eyes, unwilling to look at him any more closely. Absol cried out, capturing Hapi’s attention and leading her down a street, presumably away from the focal point of the madness. They ran together between buildings and weaving through frantic townspeople, picking up pieces of rushed conversation as they passed.
One woman screamed at another that the king was dead. Hapi wrote this off as nonsense until she heard a similar statement again, then again. What she did not hear was word on Patricia, the queen regent—fear gripped her for the fate of the queen, her one friend in the capitol, but the growing flames of the rioting forced her to focus on herself first.
The pair had nearly made it to the outskirts of Fhirdiad when a whirring sound preceded the apparition of none other than Cornelia, about 15 feet ahead of them, blocking her escape. The scowl on the woman’s face was so deeply ingrained that the shadows created a gaunt and horrifyingly enraged effect. Hapi suppressed a shudder at the memory of the last time she had seen Cornelia that angry, and poised herself for a fight. Beside her, Absol tensed as well.
“Just where do you think you’re going?” the mage asked, her voice mocking and shrill.
Hapi gritted her teeth and shot back, “Away from you.”
“You will do no such thing,” growled Cornelia as she took a step forward. Absol crouched and growled more forcefully.
“The city is in flames!” Hapi yelled. “It’s falling apart, and you’re worried about me getting away? Just leave me alone already!”
“You are coming back with me if I have to drag you by your hair!” Cornelia screamed at her. “You are nothing without me, no more than vermin!”
Hapi glanced at Absol and then back at the mage, her eyes narrowed into a glare. “Without my Crest of Timotheos, you’re nothing,” Hapi accused coldly. “And you will never use me again.”
Cornelia snarled and thrust an arm forward, expelling a glob of dark energy in Hapi’s direction. It dripped as if made of tar and flew through the air as if it had been thrown from a trebuchet in a direct path to where the redhead stood. Hapi mimicked the spell and the two orbs collided, erupting into a puddle of toxic mucus between them. At the same moment, Absol seemed to disappear from its position—moving with an imperceptible speed, it reappeared behind Cornelia and slashed at her back with its horn blade, throwing her forwards and off balance. She screeched like a banshee and whirled around to face the animal, summoning the black hole above it the way she had when she fought the demonic beast. Absol howled and held its wings low, unable to move; Hapi’s heart dropped, recalling the way this spell so effectively decimated anything surrounding it. Unsure how else to distract the mage, she threw her hands over her face in exasperation and sighed.
Right on cue, a giant wolf materialized above Cornelia and Absol, forcing her to abandon the spell and roll out of the way of the monster. Absol’s speed had it beside Hapi again in seconds. The wolf’s curled lips and hungry growls reverberated around them as it spun and took in its surroundings. This monster resembled an actual timber wolf, only it had the size of a small castle and the bloodthirsty eyes of a demon. Cornelia was the closest to it, and as it flung a paw towards her, she shifted and Hapi noticed a void open below the wolf, runes basked in dark magic rising and swirling around in a circle as black flames erupted from the center.
The wolf howled in pain and leapt backwards out of range of the spell, allowing Cornelia to stand.
“We have to go, now,” Hapi said to Absol. As they peered around for an escape, another monster burst out of the ground—a worm—and turned its leech-like mouth towards them.
“I only sighed once!” Hapi protested. Is the summoning effect strengthening?!
The worm lunged, narrowly missing Hapi as she ducked, but driving through the nearby buildings like a wrecking ball. The collapse of the structures behind her shook the ground and threatened to knock her over. Absol leapt forward towards the worm and the larger of its horn blades elongated, infused with a pink energy that reminded Hapi of the basement door. Absol swung with its head and the pink glow flew with a sharpened point from its horn directly into the body of the worm, slicing it as thoroughly as that same attack had done to the door.
Fortunately for them, the worm’s shape worked against it as it had been so easily dispatched in this manner. Cornelia still struggled, entangled with the wolf, although Hapi knew this would not occupy her for long. She need only find the positioning to cast a more powerful spell, and the mage would free herself from this danger. This is my last chance to leave, Hapi realized.
“Absol!” she called, and it answered immediately with a low howl and a jump from the worm’s corpse back to her. “How do we get out of here?”
Absol blinked slowly, then angled its body, inviting her to climb on. She nearly laughed as she recalled that first ride through the forest and compared that situation to the current one. She was bigger now, and concerned that Absol couldn’t carry her anymore, while it still seemed to see her as the same small child that needed protection. Angel, she repeated inwardly.
“Sol!” it barked, noticing her hesitation, and pawing at the ground impatiently.
“Okay, okay!” she conceded, and climbed on. Careful not to obstruct Absol’s wings, she found it easy to resituate herself, and it clearly had no issue carrying her as it stood back up with little resistance. Absol bounded over the wolf and Cornelia, catching air with a few beats of its wings. At the height of the jump, Hapi looked down over her shoulder and made eye contact with the mage—her expression of sheer, unadulterated fury seared itself into Hapi’s mind. Cornelia won’t forget this. I’ll have to hide, she decided, bracing herself as they landed on the other side.
“The king is dead, Patricia is missing, Fhirdiad is in chaos… and I can’t go home,” she lamented, realizing that Cornelia would search there for her first. “I’m going to have to be on the run forever.”
“Sol,” Absol seemed to say in confirmation.
Hapi and Absol reached a shaded alcove after some time spent distancing themselves from Fhirdiad, and the former collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion. She laid on her back in the grass and gazed up at the stars—the sky had darkened, and she felt a mixture of both free and utterly alone.
She hadn’t had time to pack anything, not even blankets or food. The chill night air bit at her, and for a moment she felt despair, wondering if she made the wrong choice. It’s been 8 years since she’s been free. Can I still do this? Can I be on my own? Survive alone?
As her thoughts tormented her, she felt a soft, warm presence curled up into her side and rolled her head over to see that Absol, now returned to its base form, had tucked itself in beside her.
She smiled and whispered, “I’m not alone, though, am I?”
“Sol…” it echoed affectionately as it drifted into sleep.
We can figure out the rest tomorrow, she figured, grateful for Absol’s companionship. Laying her head back down, she closed her own eyes and mumbled under her breath, “Thank you, Absol. For saving my life.”