Chapter five
The legend of Dolores the Evil
A beam of glimmering sunlight sprayed toward Elizabeth's cheek, toward the necklace swaying loftily around her fair neck.
Elizabeth withdrew the silk curtains, squinting through the gaps of her fingers to find out that the ship was decelerating, leaving stripes of pure smoke over the dull ocean waves.
Her heart quivered in excitement; she’d never seen such a spectacular sight before, nor would she ever imagine the slightest of visiting here in person. For the pleasant, balmy breeze stirred through the frost-laden treetops, scattering a shower of shimmering, dazzling starlight. The starry night sky was overwhelmed by the boundless Milky Way coiling and undulating right overhead, pouring down the soft, nocturnal radiance of shooting stars, gilding the glistening ocean waves while merging through the surging tides, spraying vivid glows throughout the space.
Gasping, Elizabeth sank into the cushioned sofa below. She felt a tiny squeeze and a slit as she rummaged under, and suddenly something thin cut through her fingers. No need to say, a piece of yellowish paper appeared in view while its edges shone with scarlet. Curiously enough, she picked it up and unfolded it. Inside was a mess of hastily scribbled emerald letters that seemed to jump out of the parchment at any moment.
"Dear Elizabeth,
I hope this message finds you well. I’m writing to let you know with a heavy heart that I must leave you now. Please understand that it’s important for me to go, but I truly believe that our world needs your strength and compassion now more than ever. There’s something crucial I would like you to do—within the Ethereal House, there is a concealed chamber that may assist us.
Find and retrieve any items within it.
P.S. Once you’re ready to head out, Veronica will be your guide to the institute. I want to assure you that while she may come across as a little aggressive, she has a kind spirit and will watch out for you. Trust her instincts, and you’ll be in good hands.
May God bless you."
Elizabeth gazed intently at the crisp white paper in her hands, her heart racing with disbelief. The words danced before her eyes, their meaning just out of reach. Yet, a profound realization settled deep within her—she could not betray Victoria's unwavering trust. Victoria had given up so much for her, and the weight of Victoria's sacrifices pressed upon Elizabeth like a heavy cloak. With furrowed brows, Elizabeth leaned closer to the window, the paper slipping from her grasp and drifting to the floor, forgotten.
As she peered outside, her breath caught in her throat.
In breathtaking fashion, the legendary landscape unfolded before her eyes, emerging from a misty shroud that hung in the air like a delicate veil. Ethereal vapors swirled gracefully around the vessel, revealing a panorama of awe-inspiring beauty that seemed almost otherworldly.
Amidst the mist, an isolated peninsula was revealed from the misty, dreamy coverings. Greenish smoke puffed from the ceiling of what sort of grand palace surrounded by what must be a pack of nimble narwhals that sprang over the waves—it must be the Ethereal House she had heard about.
Mysterious multicolored mists drifted across the ocean, steam rose from the water, and quietly faded in midair; the sun's reflection swayed with the ripples, casting glorious shadows throughout the ocean's surface.
"Nonblenders, the Ethereal House, Level One!" a radio rang throughout the cruise. Elizabeth took a deep breath, patting her chest softly as the intake of breath was suddenly sweet and pleasant, and got off the train.
Glancing over her shoulder, a shudder spread over her spine as she saw that those who stayed on the train evaporated in midair.
Just as she was staring plainly over the vast horizon, a pair of glimmering wings caught her attention. She wheeled on her heels to find a winged lady descending from the stairs, heading toward them. Just like the flying lady Elizabeth had seen the night before, she seemed to appear out of thin air.
Wondering if it was the best moment to go over to ask what was going on, she heard someone whispering rather secretly beside her, "That must be the main counselor of the Ethereal House, Jessica Josephine!"
Counselor Josephine's robe was violet, and so was her traveling cloak. A tiny yet irresistible smile etched at the corner of her thin lips as she advanced, while a sheen of sparkling iridescent glows glittered over her silvery hair as it swung over her back in the wind.
Elizabeth caught a scent of fragrant flowers as she walked by. Such bewitchment made Elizabeth exclaim out loud in admiration, yet she suppressed it in the last second. Yes, how stupid it would be to disrupt such an alluring atmosphere, she decided.
Josephine spoke in a clear, soft, and cheerful voice, "Dear newcomers, welcome to Alfheim, the kingdom of magic. From now on, you may live and work in the Ethereal House, the only sanctuary without being polluted by the nasty blood of our archenemy. Follow me, if you please.”
She wiped her loosened hair over her shoulder, allowed herself a little wink, and turned to lead them through the vague mist to the inner corridors and up to a splendid hall.
She knocked three times with her knuckles, and threads of light came soaring toward her. Josephine collected the threads over her while murmuring something inaudible. She flipped and swished at the threads as they twirled in midair, binding together. A sorta feathered pen emerged into view, and as her hand gestures became prompter, a faint glow emitted from the tumultuous threads. A shower of stars rose above her head as she jerked the thread around and smashed the whatnot to the lock; it clicked and cracked open.
With a glittering chandelier glistening above them, the glows illuminated the entire hall, which seemed to change with their mood.
Josephine whirled around to face them, her eyes glinting. She flicked her magipen out of her pockets, and a pool of clear water poured out of its tip and coagulated in midair, forming a crystal ball in the water vapor.
After a dazzling light, a nautilus appeared out of thin air with a pop. The group gasped in surprise, or at least Elizabeth did, her mouth fell open with her noticing.
Josephine's lips twitched; she snapped her fingers twice, and suddenly the nautilus dissolved back into mists and merged back into her magipen.
Waves of excited mutters erupted the hall; everyone was intent on seeing what else Josephine could do.
"Now, attention!" Josephine clapped her hands twice, and the room shifted back into silence. When all eyes were fixed upon her, she smiled, “Now, now, I know all of you appreciate the grand Ethereal House, and some of you," Josephine's eyes paused on Elizabeth, glittering with dangerous light, which made Elizabeth shiver.
"Some of you would try everything to stay here, even though you showed none of the quality the noble nonblender possessed. Thanks to the heirloom of the Fairy Lord, we can tell who the imposter is, and the consequences may be severe. Do I make myself clear?"
Elizabeth felt a sudden cold sweat emerging from behind her back, soaking her shirt.
Overwhelmed by a guilty churn that broke out from her stomach pit, Elizabeth hung her head gingerly.
She felt that every eye, whether she had seen or not, was glinting upon her, shining with inexplicable satisfaction.
She heard people muttering quietly under their breath, and the soft chuckle of a whistleblower was gonna catch their next victim. She peered skulking at them through the corner of her eyes, as if one would suddenly recognize her and catch her red-handed. Even the slightest thought of it sent shivers down her spine. She trembled, wiping her forehead tentatively, trying to stay still and blend into the chaos.
But still, for Victoria's sake, for her own sake, she must stay.
Josephine stared at them for a while and finally turned to whisper to one of the severe-looking women patrolling around the hall.
Then, Elizabeth suddenly remembered one of them, the waitress who served them in the Alutic Aquarium.
What was she doing here?
Murmurs swept across the hall; now, everyone knows there was an imposter lurking between them.
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Elizabeth felt an uncomfortable hush envelop her body. Her head was aching as if warning to split over, and her fingers grew numb under the heavy pressure he put on herself; her vision blurred with thickening redness as blood rushed upwards.
Elizabeth didn't know why, but as if Josephine could read minds, she kept glancing toward Elizabeth and winking at her.
Did she know that Elizabeth was up to no good?
What will she do if she catches her?
Will she end up in a cell like Victoria's?
Elizabeth clenched her fists until ropey veins bulged all over her hand, her knuckles turning white as she tried to keep those thoughts out of her mind. However, no matter how hard she tried, it was no use at all.
In a moment or two, she even tried to push through the crowd and dash out of the hall and hide.
But she knew that would only make everyone even more suspicious. Elizabeth remained rooted to the ground, a cold sweat forming on her forehead.
She refrained from wiping it, fearing that someone might perceive her strangeness.
Just then, Josephine's head snapped up, and Elizabeth almost flinched in surprise.
"Well, you'd better go to the main hall to wait. I've got a lot on my plate." She announced, her hands trembling slightly under her sleeves.
The crowd began to descend toward the corridors, but Josephine beckoned Elizabeth over.
"Don't do anything stupid. And don’t get caught.” She muttered in Elizabeth's ears, just before Elizabeth could say anything, Josephine disappeared in a pop.
Wondering in the corridors, Victoria's words swirled back into her head, "Follow the moonlight."
What the heck was that supposed to mean?
Elizabeth walked tentatively along the silent hallway, her boots crunching on the thick mattresses below.
Surrounding the corridor, white columns rose to the ceiling, huge chandeliers swinging in the breeze, and beams of sunlight sprinkled on the mattress, casting a golden glow throughout the corridor.
But then, something else caught Elizabeth's eye. An eerie-looking marble staircase led right to the darkness below, and hanging above, a crystal chandelier shaped like a moon.
As she stood there, her eyes widened in an almost trance-like state, as if some mysterious force was beckoning to her from the depths of the shadows. The air around her felt charged with anticipation, and an inexplicable pull drew her gaze toward an unseen presence, igniting a mix of curiosity and trepidation within her.
Elizabeth reached out cautiously and stepped onto it, not knowing that this seemingly inconsequential decision would rewrite her dull fate and her entire life, more adventurous yet much more dangerous than ever.
Suddenly, the staircases gave a hard wiggle, and the lights went out, leaving Elizabeth stumbling alone in the darkness. She felt something knocking softly against her chest. As she glanced down skeptically, she noticed in shock that Victoria's necklaces were glowing feebly over her neck.
Gaping in astonishment, Elizabeth brushed her trembling fingers over the intricate surface of the necklace, and from the opal at its center, a radiant beam of silvery moonlight burst forth, casting an ethereal glow.
Compelled by an unseen force, she instinctively followed the shimmering stream, descending the spiraling staircases that twisted downward into a dim abyss. Shadows loomed large, and grotesque sculptures and eerie images of ghoulish figures clung to the corners, their malevolent eyes seeming to beckon her deeper into the unknown.
The staircases, steep and slick with a damp, mossy residue, clung to her boot with every cautious step, as if they had lain undisturbed for decades, perhaps even a century. With each turn, the ancient steps began to creak ominously, and Elizabeth felt the very ground shift beneath her, the cracks widening as she clung desperately to the handrail.
As she descended further, a shudder ran through the staircase, an ominous warning, and with a bone-rattling jolt, a segment beneath her buckled, sending her tumbling into a shadowy chasm. It unfurled into the depths, a dark underworld barely illuminated by flickering candles that hung precariously along the banister, casting an eerie greenish light that danced along the walls. After what felt like an eternity, the staircase rocked violently once more, sending Elizabeth sprawling onto the cold, hard ground. Gasping for breath, she rose to her feet, disoriented, and found herself in a desolate hallway awash in an enchanting emerald glow that flickered alluringly from the far end.
A mix of dread and curiosity swirled within her as she glanced over her shoulder—only to find the staircase had vanished, swallowed by darkness. Heart racing like a wild drum, she edged toward the light, her breath coming in ragged gasps, each step echoing in the suffocating silence.
As she approached, the source of the radiant glow revealed itself: a half-open wooden door, its edges aglow with vibrant emerald hues spilling out into the hallway. The silvery moonlight from her necklace intertwined with the verdant brilliance, and with a violent tremor, the door swung open with a creak that reverberated through the air, as an unseen force propelled Elizabeth into the mysterious chamber beyond.
Panting slightly, Elizabeth looked around curiously. She was now quivering in a hidden chamber, and the emerald lights she had seen previously were emitting from a large painting hanging on the wall opposite.
Inside the painting, a golden cradle was depicted, draped with elegant tassels hanging from surrounding curtains. An infant with golden hair was awoken from what must be a very sound sleep earlier. Playing with the pendants suspended above with her tiny hands, her large sapphire eyes gleaming maliciously toward Elizabeth.
Upon closer examination of the painting, a small tablet was observed hanging from it.
"Dolores the Evil, the missing infant."
Elizabeth raised her hands aloft and slowly reached for the painting. She touched the fabric softly and sighed. Yet just before she decided to leave this creepy place as soon as possible, she felt a sudden force drawing her into the artwork.
In an instant, she was immersed in the painting.
It felt like emerging through a pool of clear water. Then, with a nauseating crunch, she landed face-down on a quilted bed.
Rubbing her throbbing wrist vigorously, Elizabeth rose to her feet. She found herself inside a room constructed of glass, with vapor rising and falling around her. Just as she was about to leave, the door suddenly burst open, and a woman cloaked in black entered in a hurry. Her ethereal golden hair flowed over her shoulders, yet her eyes reflected exhaustion. She was clutching an infant tightly in her arms. Elizabeth stepped back, but the woman paid her no mind. She placed the child on the bed and left without a word.
Elizabeth approached with a sense of trepidation, her heart racing. The infant in the cradle captivated her attention: its curly golden hair gleamed like sunlight, and the large, sapphire-blue eyes seemed to hold secrets untold. On the mattress, three shimmering words gleamed ominously: ‘Dolores the Evil.’ Sinking into the plush armchair beside the bed, Elizabeth became aware of hushed voices drifting through the slightly ajar door. Curiosity piqued, she moved closer, pressing her ear to the cool wood of the doorframe.
A tall, slender woman spoke in a tone that was both soft and tinged with urgency, “My lord, the prophecy, remember?”
A sharp retort sliced through the air from another woman, whose voice brimmed with disbelief, “Nonsense!”
The first woman persisted, her voice rising slightly as desperation seeped through, “My lord, you cannot allow them to destroy your kingdom like this—the illustrious nonblender realm!”
A third voice, deep and composed, resonated with authority. “The Ginnungagap must be summoned. Bring Dolores and Joanna there; let her experience the agony that follows her betrayal of the mighty Fairy lord.”
This voice belonged to a burly man with a thick, mushy beard, an imposing figure adorned with a glowing crown that seemed to pulse with a mysterious light beneath the extravagant crystal chandelier hanging above them.
The agitated woman interjected, her voice laced with anger, “Her Majesty? The duchess is innocent! It’s you who’s been orchestrating this chaos—”
Yet, the man remained silent, a heavy tension hanging in the air. Elizabeth cringed as the sound of shattered silverware echoed through the room, followed by a piercing cry of pain.
In an instant, her vision wavered, and she felt herself being whisked away once more.
Before she knew it, Elizabeth found herself flailing in a vast pit. Golden liquid oozed from the walls, its incandescent glow transforming into a mesmerizing swirl of multicolored vapor that danced in the air, creating an ethereal sight.
Next to her, a stern-looking woman—the duchess—was chained, tears streaming down her cheeks, her eyes filled with a mix of despair and defiance. With a sudden, faint pop, the familiar figure of the first maid materialized, clutching the infant once more.
The woman hesitated as she reached for her child, her trembling fingers revealing a striking ring. Engraved on it was a soaring eagle surrounded by twined olive leaves, a symbol of something far greater.
“Soulblenders are concealed within my kingdom,” the man hissed, twirling a dagger menacingly in his hand.
“Joanna, even you, my dear.” The fury in his voice was palpable and suffocating.
The duchess sobbed, “Leave my child alone! I will forsake you and your kingdom forever—just give me my child!” Her anguish echoed, but the man's resolve remained unyielding.
“I shall leave you here, letting the darkness of Ginnungagap consume you,” he whispered, his tone steely. “You will confess and repent for your misdeeds.”
“Then give me my child!” Joanna cried, desperation and defiance mingling in her voice.
With a flick of his wrist, the man made the infant disappear into thin air. A sinister grin crept across his face as he declared, “I shall raise Dolores and purify her soul.” He tossed a seed into the pit, and in an instant, he and the maid vanished into nothingness.
The duchess's voice echoed with fury, “You may attempt to destroy me, but my bloodline shall rise again. Three will turn against me, yet the rest will reclaim your kingdom, retrieve the interstellar jewels, and awaken their true magic. When Dolores reaches the age of twenty-two, she will escape your palace ablaze, incinerating all you cherish into ashes.”
With those words, she faded into the shadowy depths of the pit. In the blink of an eye, Elizabeth’s vision spun once more.
“Are you certain Joanna is dead?” a voice questioned. “Of course she’s dead—” the other voice faded into silence as Elizabeth found herself back in a spacious living room.
The man from the pit was pacing anxiously, his footsteps heavy, while the maid burst in, breathless and trembling with fear.
She knelt beside him, her voice quaking as she reported, “My lord, Dolores—she has vanished!”
With a jolt, Elizabeth awoke, collapsing to the floor beneath the ominous painting, gasping for air as her heart raced. Instinctively, she reached for the painting, but as her fingers made contact, she was taken aback.
It was shrinking within her grasp, rapidly becoming small enough to slip into her pocket. Tension coiled within her as she stared at the painting, and a memory flashed through her mind.
When she and Victoria had traveled through the glass tube of Yggdrasil, they had encountered an endless pit filled with that same golden liquid oozing everywhere. What if this was the very pit depicted in the painting?
Suddenly, the echoing footsteps in the hallway sent panic surging through her chest. Elizabeth pressed her quivering lips against the opal amulet she wore and murmured a fervent prayer. In a brilliant flash of silver moonlight, she vanished from the chamber just as the door swung open with a deafening bang. Josephine rushed into the room, urgency propelling her forward.
Yet, she froze midway, her eyes wide with shock. The painting was gone.
With a sigh of relief, she pressed her hands against the wall, but soon her steely gaze narrowed with fury as she reached into her inner pocket. She produced a golden ring, its engraving glowing faintly, depicting a fierce eagle entwined with olive leaves—a symbol of power, betrayal, and an impending reckoning.