Chapter eleven
The hypnotic manipulation
The following week, Elizabeth and her friends found themselves confined within their seashell house, with their activities limited to reading newspapers from years past and conversing about the Election Campaign, as if that was the only thing they had ever cared about. Elizabeth experienced unprecedented boredom during this tedious period. Her legs grew numb after sitting in the same position on the sofa for three hours, repeatedly listening to the same radio broadcast and contemplating her dreams from time to time.
Straightening up, Elizabeth strode off to her bedroom and planned to have a nice, restful nap. She withdrew the curtains around her bed and rummaged through her pockets for the pocket watch, trying to examine it.
Upon retrieving the watch, though, she nearly loosened her grip in a startle. A massive spider was sprawled across its delicate surface, with several chalk-white spots blending into its black body. To Elizabeth, it appeared quite poisonous, but thankfully, it was motionless at the moment.
With her hands trembling, Elizabeth wiped it with her napkin, tossed it away in disgust, and reached for her watch a second time. The minute she had it in her hands, Elizabeth let out a scream of pain.
The watch was blazing with heat, and the scar on her palms seared with pain again. The scorching heat waves billowed out mercilessly, surging straight toward her.
Then quietly drifted and lingered through every corner of the room. The intake of air blazed hot the instant it touched her lungs.
"Elizabeth?" called an anxious voice, just as she discreetly concealed the watch in her pocket when the curtain was partially opened. Percy stood there, accompanied by Penelope, who was perusing a nearby bookshelf, her finger trailing down the spine of a thick, yellowed tome.
"Are you okay?" asked Percy gently.
He turned gradually and looked at Penelope. "You find anything?"
"Right, here, Elizabeth, are you tired?" asked Penelope briskly through her spectacles, which were now glimmering brightly in front of her dreamy blue eyes.
"I'm all right. What are you guys searching for?" asked Elizabeth with a sense of curiosity in her voice.
"You must’ve heard about Dolores the Evil before, right? Well, it turned out only she can activate the inner power of the jewels we're finding." Snapped Percy.
He sipped his orange juice and looked up, waiting for Penelope to read.
“It is said that she is the one who can unseal the door that leads to Grekheim—”
“—She can retrieve something from her dreams, that item will leave marks that can't be washed away—" Exclaimed Penelope enthusiastically, her eyes now shining with ardor, and her facial expression was exuberant.
Elizabeth's hands trembled in her inner pocket, her heart pounding with excitement.
She couldn't stop thinking that perhaps she was the descendant.
If she were, it would explain the dream and the white-hot pocket watch in her pocket.
She didn't forget the words shining inside the watch, her true heritage, her true self.
Who was she?
Where did she come from?
What had she been through that she couldn't recall?
“—and she had gotten a pair of shimmering black eagle wings—but most astonishingly, she is the only double-soulblender in Alfheim—her ability of self-healing—”
The enthusiasm rising inside Elizabeth was suddenly extinguished by a downpour. Everyone knew she was the only soulblender without a pair of eagle wings, and what the heck did a double-soulblender mean?
Sighing, Elizabeth took the thing she was rummaging for from her inner pocket and placed it neatly on her nightstand. Except that it was not her pocket watch she had taken out, but something else.
"The painting of the missing infant?" shrieked Penelope in disbelief. “How come you get it?”
"What painting—" gaped Elizabeth, her heart leaping.
Then, she stopped dead, her hands shaking, the painting in the chamber, the old legend…
"What happened?" asked Percy, leaning forward.
"The legend of Dolores the Evil." Gaped Penelope.
Percy jumped back in horror, clutching his chest.
He asked in a quivering voice, “How on earth, hell, how could it ever be possible?”
Elizabeth told them about Josephine's warning and the chamber. But when she was about to share with them about how she had been literally tugged on the painting, she stopped.
She opened her mouth wide, trying to speak, but no sounds came out. But, thankfully, her friends didn't seem to have noticed.
"Well, that must mean—"
"Dolores the Evil is hidden between us, right in Alfheim. We must find her. Only she can be suck into the painting, and understand what has happened to her long ago."
Percy stared at the painting, scanning the baby's features.
Elizabeth's mind went blank. She was the one who had been sucked into the painting.
No, no, Penelope must have made a mistake.
Just then, Percy's exclamation brought her back to reality.
"Well, you said Joanna had been buried in a deep pit, right?"
"Yeah." Said Elizabeth briskly, "So what?"
"That pit, it should be the hole where the Yggdrasil grew, the Ginnungagap," Percy said crisply, looking up.
"Well?" Elizabeth frowned, her arms folded.
"No one will die inside Ginnungagap, so that must mean—" Penelope uttered slowly, her eyes glinting behind the spectacles.
“—Joanna the Great is still alive!"
"Yes, I suppose so.” Whispered a solemn voice behind.
Elizabeth jumped in surprise, and so did the others. Veronica de Angelo was standing right behind them, and next to her was another slender lady with her large eyes fixed upon them with curiosity.
"What's up?" Elizabeth asked, her voice breaking the tension in the air.
"The election, remember," Veronica replied, her voice smooth and melodic. "It shall begin in three hours." With an enigmatic smile, she gestured toward a grand figure looming behind her.
"Well, this is Narcissus Teresa, and she shall take you to the Ethereal House. Good luck." Just as Elizabeth was about to take a step forward, Veronica seized her sleeve and leaned in close, urgency flashing in her eyes.
"Josephine is on our side," she whispered, her voice sharp and crisp, before vanishing into a burst of dazzling light.
Penelope, eyes wide with curiosity, asked, "So, how on earth are we gonna get there?” Narcissus merely offered a mysterious smile, raising her hand to her lips as she blew a piercing whistle.
At that moment, the ground beneath them quaked and split open, revealing a dark, gaping tunnel that plunged deep into the earth. Suddenly, a rush of frigid wind shot upward, propelling them down, swirling in a chaotic spiral until they tumbled into the abyss.
When Elizabeth came to a halt at the bottom of the chasm, her breath hitched in disbelief. She blinked rapidly, adjusting to the dim light around her. They had landed in a subterranean realm that felt as if it belonged to a sprawling mansion, its walls built of timeworn stone and draped in cobwebs. Narcissus beckoned them forward, leading to an imposing oak door, intricately carved and sturdy, where a majestic phoenix awaited, its feathers shimmering in a dazzling array of colors.
"The Election, my dear," she said, her voice patient yet filled with an undercurrent of urgency, as the phoenix unfurled its wings, stepping aside with a graceful flapping. As the door swung open with a resounding bang, the chamber that lay beyond was nothing short of a fantastical spectacle.
Eccentric treasures adorned the ceiling, clinking together in a melodious dance as a gentle breeze swept through the space. At the heart of the room stood a conic stone pedestal, encased in a fragile glass dome that sparkled like morning dew. With a deliberate motion, Narcissus tapped the glass, and it melted away as if it were made of liquid light.
She grasped an odd-looking stick—its surface etched with intricate symbols—and struck it against the stone. A blaze of purple light erupted, illuminating the chamber in a surreal glow, casting long shadows that wavered in the tremor of magic. The stone carvings began to vibrate, a soft tremor at first that was easy to overlook. But soon, the stone erupted into a cacophony of fragments, dissolving into shimmering mist that swirled in the air. Amidst the swirling vapor, an exquisite, enchanting miniature model of the Ethereal House emerged, its delicate architecture glimmering in the enchanting light, a promise of the wonders that lay ahead.
Each part of the palace had been carefully engraved in crystal, from the highest Astrology Tower to the secret chambers. Squinting inside, Elizabeth found the marble staircases and personal offices shone with a violet glow. Stripes of gold glittered over the mattresses, blanketing the columns, which Elizabeth realized only seconds later as sunlight.
She easily located the shifting staircase that had once guided her to the secret chambers, yet now a large golden door without a doorknob stood in its place, blocking any further descent.
The dorm she had seen before was deep underground, inside a rather creepy cave she had once set foot into. Though the other end of the cave she didn’t seem to notice before was narrower and darker, as if leading to some secret chambers that might hold the secrets of Alfheim, the thoughts gave Elizabeth a shiver running down her spine.
The only difference was that there was absolutely no life in this sculpture.
"Teresa, what the heck is—" Elizabeth muttered cautiously.
Yet seconds later, she stopped abruptly.
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Narcissus Teresa had disappeared without a trace.
"Teresa? Where are you?"
"I'm here, don't worry about me.” Came a small voice from the inside of the sculpture.
Elizabeth jumped back in horror. Narcissus was now standing in a deserted corridor in the interior of the miniature Ethereal House.
"How do you get in there?" asked Elizabeth, looking thoroughly bemused.
"Just come forward, and step into this corridor. C'mon!" explained Narcissus cheerfully.
"Wicked," murmured Elizabeth as she closed her eyes, lowered her head, and stepped forward.
It felt pleasant, as if emerging through a transparent and cool veil. She was ascending through misty clouds, toward the sky, and vapor poured over her as her hair streamed behind her, swaying with the breeze.
Yet it didn’t last long. Seconds later, she was thrown head down from the welkin. She was falling downwards at a scary speed, and a panic tingle broke out from her insides as she soared across vast spaces. The sudden, violent wind whipped hard on her face as she landed safely in the corridor.
Narcissus hugged her as Percy and Penelope joined them. "That is absolutely brilliant!" exclaimed Elizabeth and Percy simultaneously. “Bit scary, thoroughly enjoyable.” Added Elizabeth, rubbing her throbbing wrist.
“Follow the others, okay?” whispered Penelope briskly. "Well, I'd better get going, prepare for the election," Narcissus said happily, as she vanished into the crowds beyond.
Gossiping and guessing about the election, they turned a corner and encountered the person Elizabeth hated most. Datura Jasmine, holding a leaflet in a crowd of cheering guys, was sneering at Elizabeth in the corner of her eyes. “I wonder what was written on that leaflet," murmured Elizabeth to herself.
"Who cares?" jeered Penelope, shooting Datura a disgusted look and turning away.
“Quick!" whispered Percy as he tugged Elizabeth hard.
"Ouch, okay, okay. I'm coming," sighed Elizabeth as she took one last glance at the leaflet and hurried away.
They had entered a grand room where three crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling and five long circular desks came into view. A long velvet curtain hung from the ceiling to a spiral staircase. Mattresses blanketed the ground, shimmering with golden lights.
Almost every seat in the room was occupied, and there were whispers everywhere, smiling faces turning every direction.
They found a seat near the front and blended in with the crowd.
Soon, Josephine entered the room, beaming. But her facial expressions turned from cheerful to outraged when she saw a crowd of girls advocating for Datura appear in the hall.
Waving flags that read 'Vote Jasmine and you will be blessed', they marched into the room and stood right in the center of the Hall.
Josephine sighed; she looked away from them quickly.
When they all finished eating, which only took five minutes 'cause everyone was so excited about the election, and no one realized there was no sugar in the pudding. And the cakes were as hard as rocks, which would break your teeth if you took a hard bite.
After waiting for five minutes for Josephine to finish sipping her champagne, Elizabeth's hands trickled to her inner pocket. How she wanted to tell her friends about how she had brought something back from her dreams. She took a deep breath and muttered to Penelope,
“I had just discovered—" began Elizabeth. But before she could even finish, Josephine clapped her hands, silencing the hall.
They were gradually elevated into midair by an invisible force; their chairs vanished, replaced by long lines of armchairs materializing out of thin air. People plopped down onto the winged armchairs in soft crunches, fidgeting, anxiously awaiting the candidates to appear.
A melodious bell resonated from outside the Grand Hall, instantly captivating the attention of all present. The heavy oak door creaked open, revealing the first candidate, Lucius. Dressed impeccably in a tailored black tailcoat that accentuated his height and complemented by a crisp white tie, he stepped forward with an air of confidence. As he made his entrance, he greeted the eager assembly with an enthusiastic wave, his smile reflecting the vibrant energy of the room.
The soft glow of the spotlights flickered upon him as he made a smooth exit backstage, leaving behind a palpable buzz of anticipation among the audience. Moments later, the door clicked open once more, revealing an enchanting young woman. Wearing breathtaking strapless gown that draped down her figure like a gentle waterfall, the fabric shimmering softly under the lights. A delicate, sheer veil framed her face, fluttering with a playful elegance as she moved, Narcissus Teresa stole the spotlight. Her entrance ignited the crowd into rapturous applause, and rose petals cascaded down around her in a swirling dance.
Then came Morris, his appearance marked by a striking violet tailcoat that contrasted beautifully with his polished black boots.
Elizabeth’s attention was immediately drawn to him; she couldn’t help but notice his pale complexion and the subtle tremor in his legs as he navigated the dazzling lights surrounding him. His lips, brilliantly adorned in a striking black, could have made a powerful impression if only they had received the attention they deserved.
In an instant, he slipped behind a curtain, just as a triumphant trumpet blared through the hall, its echo startling Elizabeth and nearly causing her to drop her goblet in surprise. The front door banged open as a talented orchestra emerged, filling the hall with enchanting melodies that wove a rich symphony, enveloping everyone in an embrace of musical euphoria.
Dancers soon burst onto the stage, their movements fluid and graceful, elevating the excitement to an exhilarating crescendo.
"That's not quite fair. Candidates should enter solo!" Elizabeth whispered, rubbing her forehead.
Penelope gave her a stern look that made her shut up at once.
"JASMINE!!!" came the thundering voices of the audience. The escorts lifted Datura into the air as they disappeared behind the veil. Penelope bent over and whispered to Elizabeth, “Don’t yell.”
Finally, Josephine walked in with a muscular man; his golden hair flowed over his shoulders, and his eyes flickered with dangerous light.
Elizabeth didn’t recognize the man at once, but she did recall having seen him once before, prior to her entrance into the institute.
However, she experienced a surge of anger as soon as this guy came into view. Although Elizabeth found it hard to retrieve the memory, she felt assured that his presence could only herald chaos and tragedy.
Josephine announced publicly, her voice resonating from the podium.
"The election has prepared three tasks for the candidates to complete, the first task—" she unrolled the initial parchment, "is to solve a riddle.”
With a decisive turn on her heels, Josephine drew back the heavy curtains, unveiling a magnificent proscenium that glimmered under brilliant lights. Each candidate sat at their wooden desks, a quill poised delicately over a pristine sheet of parchment, their expressions a mixture of hope and trepidation. Dazzling spotlights bathed them in a golden glow, pouring down a shower of glow, while the chandelier above dimmed to create an air of anticipation.
“It’s subtle, yet it exists,” Josephine declared, her voice echoing through the hall. “It lies within us, weaving through our very nerves—a treasure that can also be deadly.”
A focused silence enveloped the room, all eyes drawn tightly to the contenders. Narcissus was the first to raise her quill, lowering her gaze in concentration as she hastily scribbled her answer, then slipped the parchment into Josephine’s awaiting hands.
Lucius followed suit, his limbs trembling with nerves as he stared blankly into the crowd with palpable nervousness as camera flashes erupted around him, puncturing the stillness, capturing their evener award move.
Datura was the last to submit her answer, Panic faded from her face; on the contrary, her face split into a triumphant smile towards the crowd, allowing a smugly smirk directly toward Elizabeth.
As Joseph uttered the answers of each candidate, they all sounded normal, except for Datura. Her answer was, well, laughable—a kitten grows on a yawn. "Well," chuckled Josephine. She paused to allow the crowd to have a good, hysterical laugh, and went on. Elizabeth sniggered, her disbelief palpable.
“No, Josephine, that can’t possibly be correct,” a voice sliced through the laughter, rich with challenge, as Carlos strode forward with purpose. The hall buzzed with murmurs, erupted in whispers as all heads turning to watch him approach the front.
"All the other answers sound the same; it’s too coincidental,” he challenged, casting a contemptuous glance at Elizabeth.
“Carlos, this isn’t a negotiation,” Josephine replied, her tone firm.
“"Or tomorrow, the newspaper will tell the world what your precious children," he sneered, a malevolent gleam in his eye as he focused on Elizabeth, "are up to.”
“How dare you!” Josephine retorted, her voice rose, her eyes blazing.
“Then perhaps I should just start writing again,” Carlos replied matter-of-factly, feigning innocence.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Josephine straightened, an air of defiance surrounding her. “We’ll address this later.”
With a resigned sigh, she unfurled another roll of parchment. “Now, the second task: summon a nautilus.” Instantly, the candidates’ desks shimmered and morphed into four ethereal crystal screens, gleaming under the overhead lights.
“The ingredients are before you.”
But as Elizabeth scanned the table, a sinking feeling gripped her, dread gnawed at her gut.
While crystal jars filled with enchanting, swirling liquids adorned their desks, but one crucial ingredient was glaringly absent. Except Datura, who wore an irritatingly smug expression, reveling in her perceived victory. In a flurry of motion, Narcissus seized her cauldron, her hands quaking as she whispered an incantation, snapping her fingers, turning her ingredients into swirling liquids. Yet, her effort was futile—lacking that one essential element—she could do nothing but continue to stare at the scorching spotlights, forcing tears back into her eyelids.
Calm amidst the chaos, Lucius conjured a shrimp with deft precision, the vital missing piece materializing before him. He skillfully blended it into his potion, summoning a breathtaking nautilus that spiraled majestically into his bowl, its shell glimmering like a treasure from the depths.
Datura was quick to mirror his success, hastily throwing one into her bowl, but Morris was out of luck.
His bowl remained ominously empty, desperation shadowing his features, anguish etched on his face as he rubbed his silvery hair in despair, avoiding the relentless gaze of the crowd, their cameras capturing every moment of his struggle.
Elizabeth felt a sudden pity for Morris; he was such a good person, and this was not fair at all.
After Josephine's whistle, Narcissus still couldn't figure out how to first summon a missing ingredient.
Her eyelids were reddened with shame and anger.
Sighing with helplessness, Josephine handed her a box of tissues.
"The third task is to make an extemporaneous speech," uttered Josephine, reading the third piece of parchment.
The four screens standing in front of the candidates had vanished yet again; in their place stood six podiums.
Josephine glared at the doorway to make sure Carlos wasn't listening before inviting Narcissus to the stage.
Teresa cleared her throat and began,
“—I ask you all to be an optimist, think about how lucky you are now.
Because sometimes, life will truly break your heart.
Not all wounds are meant to heal.
And some pains are incurable.
But please remember:
Your future, your start.
And it's really awesome to witness how you grow, how you fly, how you soar above the broad skyline.
But what if the time when we feel vulnerable and fragile, when we feel our soul was ripped from our body, and we’re left with nothing?
Remember, we’re here, right here, always here.
When you stop pretending to be tough, when you stop trying to endure trauma alone, when you truly open your hearts to each other. Then, you’ve got it.
The world loves you; we love you. And you are just as loved, cared for, welcomed, and accepted—"
“Excellent! Next—” exclaimed Josephine, throwing Narcissus a cheerful gaze and waiting for the applause to end.
"Narcissus really got a point," whispered Elizabeth to Penelope excitedly under her breath.
"Yeah," said Penelope thoughtfully, gazing at Narcissus through her spectacles, nodding feebly.
After Lucius had finished his tasks, which won more applause and people standing and shouting in the auditorium.
Penelope frowned, Elizabeth spun around, and found Datura making her way to the front.
"Guys, think about it. If the world built here is safe and secure, why do you need to figure things out by yourself? Why do you need to have your own opinion when everything the Fairy Lord told you is correct?
The Fairy Lord gave you your life, and he treated you all equally, so your life is also his.
Please, as I beg you, spend the rest of your life working for him. Dedicate your energy and spirit to him.
Remember, life is fair; everything is fair. If you think it is not fair, that is just because you don't understand what 'fairness' means.
Learn to be obedient instead of worrying about the reasons behind the orders. Nothing is planned out there; no one out there is insidious. The world is at peace under the wise rule of the fairy lord. That's fairness.”
That speech received the loudest applause, and the audience stood up and cheered.
"How dare you say such things!" Elizabeth yelled, "I must say you are very good at brainwashing us!"
"Such fallacious—" But her small voice was drowned by the thunderous claps and exclamations.
Penelope dragged her to the corner and, with her arms folded, she frowned, "Elizabeth, haven't I told you enough times? Keep that inside; you don't shout it out loud like that. Remember your friend Victoria, how she disappeared without a trace? You have a task, so first keep yourself safe; that's the important thing. What if you get captured? Do you know what happened to those who got held captive?"
Elizabeth shrugged.
Josephine clapped her hands sharply, the sound echoing through the charged atmosphere, beckoning the crowd to quiet down.
With a commanding presence, she seized the microphone, her voice ringing out, “The candidates shall challenge one of the audience members and honor bravery.” A heavy silence enveloped the gathering—a palpable tension that gripped everyone in the vicinity.
The air was thick, and for a moment, it felt as if time itself had paused. No one dared to stir; they were frozen, caught in a web of uncertainty. Then, with a tentative gesture, the candidate began to select their opponents, each choice seemingly laden with significance. The unexpected turn of events took the crowd by surprise; no one had anticipated such a bold challenge. Josephine's intentions remained inscrutable, leaving the audience in a whirlpool of speculation.
Elizabeth stood entranced, her wide eyes unblinking, her breath caught in her throat. In a dazzling flash of light, the candidates and their newly chosen adversaries vanished, leaving the crowd in stunned silence behind.
Suddenly, a large screen flickered to life, revealing the unfolding drama to all who remained. Among the last to linger was Datura, her gaze sweeping across the audience with an unsettling intensity, sending shivers skittering along the spines of those who met her eyes. With a measured grace, she advanced, her movements deliberate and fluid. Her eyes sparkled with an enigmatic glint, and as she ran her fingers sensuously along the microphone, a wave of anticipation rippled through the crowd.
Her lips quivered just slightly as she uttered,
“I challenge—Elizabeth Juliet Jordan.”