Chapter seven
A new member usurps the throne
It was midnight when a loud knock woke Elizabeth up. She snorted, brought herself up by grabbing the bedpost, and suddenly she was wide awake since she found the baby seahorse that wandered outside had somehow managed its way through the crack in the window and onto her chest, and stayed sprawled there.
Hastily, Elizabeth got dressed. She opened the door to find Percy and Penelope standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, beaming at her.
"What's up?" Elizabeth asked sleepily with a yawn.
"It's Veronica, she summons us over."
Dragging her drowsiness-stricken body toward the Grand Cathedral, Elizabeth caught a view of the shack she used to live in and the newcomers fighting inside. She allowed herself a bitter smile.
Veronica was standing on the high platform, looking thoroughly agitated.
When they all sat down quietly, Veronica said in a voice as if she had just swallowed a big bag of ashes.
"As you all know, the nurse had retired from the nursery.
Plus, this year, I've received a task, so this new nurse is gonna take my place as the Counselor of the Soulblender Institute."
The hall erupted with waves of murmurs.
A lady, no older than Elizabeth, emerged from the shadows of the doorway, dressed entirely in black. Her presence exuded elegance, with striking emerald green eyes that glimmered like jewels, and cascading golden hair that flowed luxuriously down her shoulders, framing her delicate features perfectly.
Her skin, a porcelain canvas, glistened under the soft glow of the light, while her hollow cheeks added an air of ethereal beauty. Glittering, silvery high heels added a dramatic flair to her graceful stride, and her enchanting long dress swayed gently, while a flowing traveling cloak danced in the breeze like a wisp of smoke. She ascended the spiral staircase with an effortless poise, a warm smile playing on her lips as she waved dramatically at Veronica.
"Hello, darling, I'm Datura Jasmine. I’m here to be your protector—" Her voice was crisp yet elusive, as if carrying secrets.
"She is breathtaking!" Penelope gasped, hands clasped to her mouth in awe.
"—And without doubt, I assure you, this year will be one you'll cherish more than any other you have experienced—"
"Hey, her voice isn’t loud, right? But it reverberates within me, resonating through every nerve. You don’t think she’s enchanting us, do you?" Percy whispered tentatively.
Elizabeth's attention was drawn to Veronica, who appeared to be acting out of character.
Veronica’s lips quivered slightly as she murmured under her breath, her gaze shifting downward and flicking upward to steal glances at Datura.
Elizabeth noticed the telltale sign of anxiety: Veronica's fingers had interlaced into a protective cross beneath her sleeves.
Percy leaned closer, whispering urgently in her ear, "Look at Datura’s lips."
Confused, Elizabeth turned her gaze toward Datura's mouth, her breath catching as she took in the sight. The lady's lips were an inky black, meticulously painted with the darkest lipstick, far deeper than the midnight sky, suffused with an allure of darkness.
Black had always symbolized the void, an absence of light.
A sense of foreboding washed over Elizabeth; such darkness could never truly disappear.
“Now,” Veronica announced, her voice steady despite the tremor in her limbs. “Soulblenders are true warriors. We stand for peace, justice, and freedom. Only the blood of sins will touch our swords. Each year, we distribute tasks to reveal our members' true valor. Speaking of which, I’m ready to announce the annual tasks for our new recruits!”
The gathered members, including Elizabeth, moved forward. Veronica waved her hands languidly, sending beams of shimmering light leaping from her fingertips.
With two sharp snaps of her fingers, slips of pristine white paper materialized from thin air, zipping through the space before coming to a halt in midair, hovering expectantly.
Elizabeth reached out and unfolded her paper, her hands trembling slightly as her eyes darted over the elegant green ink.
She glanced around at the other candidates—some grimaced in uncertainty, while others whispered nervously amongst themselves.
“Task A, join me; the remainder, follow Davis,” Veronica commanded, pointing to a rotund man lurking in the corner.
As her final words floated in the air, Veronica pivoted sharply, her silhouette stark against the ethereal glow of the cathedral's stained glass, an apparition borne of light and shadow. Elizabeth felt an irresistible pull as she joined Percy and Penelope, an invisible force urging them forward, deepening the sense of destiny that lingered in the air.
Veronica strode purposefully ahead, not pausing until she reached the cathedral's innermost chamber. With a swift and assertive motion, she thrust open the heavy wooden door, releasing a powerful wave of sharp, pungent onion scent that engulfed the space, filling their nostrils with its robust warmth.
Inside, the chamber was cloaked in a damp, softened shadows, softly illuminated by flickering candles casting dancing light across the damp stone walls. Four sumptuous armchairs, upholstered in a sumptuous velvet of deep midnight blue, were arranged invitingly before a grand, arched window, which refracted the silver moonlight into sparkling fragments that glittered against the walls like stars in a night sky.
“Now, find a seat,” Veronica commanded, settling herself into the largest armchair with an air of authority. The others complied without hesitation, eager to heed her words.
“Task A is designed to challenge even the most seasoned among us, and this year, Odin himself has crafted a trial for our venture,” she revealed, her voice rich with reverence.
“Odin himself?” Penelope echoed, her floating pen jotting down notes in mid-air as her eyes sparkled with curiosity.
“Yes, McQuillan,” Veronica affirmed, a yawn escaping her lips before she stifled it.
“But first, let’s gather some weapons.” In a swift gesture, she snapped her fingers, and a heavy package floated gracefully from a shadowed shelf. With deft hands, she caught it and peeled it open, revealing an array of glimmering supplies that seemed almost magical.
“A surprise for all of you,” she intoned mysteriously, a sly grin dancing on her lips as she made a quick, clean slit down the package's zip.
“Penelope,” she continued, raising an eyebrow, “remember, the poisonous arrows never miss their target unless the magic of the poison wanes.”
With that warning, Veronica withdrew a handful of arrows, along with a vial containing a swirling blue liquid that bubbled ominously.
She turned her attention to Harrison, gesturing toward Percy.
“And you?” Percy remained still, his piercing emerald eyes wide with a mixture of awe and trepidation. “The ice blade will always obey its master,” Veronica proclaimed, revealing a sleek, glimmering sword that sparkled with an otherworldly frost.
Finally, her gaze landed on Elizabeth. “And here, the frost dagger; it possesses the power to unlock any lock and ensures it strikes true.”
Elizabeth reached for the dagger, her fingers trembling as she wrapped her hand around the beautifully crafted hilt, which radiated a soft, cold energy that seemed to pulse with life. The icy blade sparkled with shimmering sapphire lights, and a rush of frigid air rushed into her lungs, leaving her breathless.
Never had she held anything with such potential for both beauty and destruction. As she gripped it firmly, a dark realization settled in her heart—once she wielded the dagger, the sharp edge would likely taste blood.
A sudden gasp from Veronica jarred Elizabeth from her trance, drawing her back into the moment and leaving the weight of destiny hanging palpably in the air.
This content has been misappropriated from NovelBin; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"Well, here it comes finally."
Elizabeth was just about to ask what had happened when she heard a sizzling sound echo from behind.
She whirled around on her heels, and she didn't need to ask to find out what had happened.
Beams of golden light were swirling around the wall, sprouting and vanishing in midair. As golden beams shimmered around her, dissipating into multicolored vapor, glittering words began to appear.
"You’ll take the yearly quest assigned,
To bring back the Interstellar Crown, redefined.
First find the Sagacity Sapphire, deep in a well,
Then seek the Gown Gold that grows by itself.
Next, claim the Cryptical Crystal, a friend you must lose,
To the darkest ocean, where no one dares choose.
Claim the heart of the mighty sea, unspoken and cold,
Then find the Oriental Opal in mist’s endless fold.
Fetch the Dreamscape Diamond where the hot waves ignite,
Merge them all with hands bathed in blight.
When darkness fades and the shadows recede,
Your reward shall come… but at what grim speed?"
A heavy silence enveloped the room, thick with unspoken tension that left the air feeling charged and suffocating.
It was as if time had momentarily lost its rhythm, leaving everyone steeped in an anxious hush that clung to them like fog.
Elizabeth’s heart raced as she caught sight of Veronica; her breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, betraying a sheer surprise that radiated from her wide eyes.
Across the chamber, Penelope McQuillan's fingers dug into the bowstring of her arrows with such intensity that the blood drained from her knuckles, leaving them ghostly white.
Percy Harrison stood a few feet away, his hand pressed against his chest, disbelief etched onto his face like a mask of horror. Elizabeth felt an unsettling pang of isolation, realizing that she alone was adrift in the murky waters of uncertainty, oblivious to the cause of their trepidation.
"Calm down," Veronica managed to grind out through clenched teeth, shattering the stillness with a voice laced with strain. Her words hung heavy in the atmosphere, weighed down by the urgency they carried.
"I don’t understand why Odin would send us on this task," she continued, her voice alternating between steely resolve and tremors of fear.
"I’ve seen entire groups obliterated during this mission; it’s as deadly as the Ebola virus. We must remain united—our success could mean liberation for our tribe or, conversely, our doom."
Elizabeth coughed slightly, a sound that felt far too loud in the tense air that surrounded them. She shifted nervously from one foot to the other, trying to ease the palpable friction in the room.
“Um, I don’t know exactly how this should work, but I think the quicker we get this thing done, the better,” she suggested, her voice barely above a whisper yet laced with determination. Veronica’s eyes narrowed as she swung her gaze towards Elizabeth, disbelief etched on her face.
“You?” she exclaimed, a hint of incredulity in her tone. “You think you can handle this? I’m trying to tell you that you need to stay behind.”
“Yep, I agree with Eliza,” Penelope chimed in, her resolve unwavering as she sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor. With deft fingers, she began to meticulously coat the sharp tips of her arrows with a deadly poison, each precise stroke glistening ominously in the dim light of the flickering torches that lined the walls. The air smelled of bitter herbs and something more sinister.
“Indeed, Veronica, give her a chance,” Percy added, his voice a low rumble that sought to balance the heated exchange. As he spoke, he polished his sword with care, the blade catching the light with a foreboding shine, signaling readiness for the task ahead. “We always do this, don’t we?”
Veronica shook her head, frustration evident in her posture. “She didn’t even get a pair of wings; that last pair only turned to ash. She’s not a true member of our group,” she retorted, crossing her arms defensively.
“Hey, don’t be so harsh,” Percy interjected firmly, his voice steady as he glanced between the two women, trying to mediate the tension.
Veronica sighed deeply, her expression softening momentarily.
“I won’t care about what’s going to happen to you, but if you insist on going, just go,” she relented, her tone a cocktail of resignation and disbelief. “I can’t believe I let an unofficial whatnot join our mission.”
“Then why did you choose me?” Elizabeth pressed, her tone brave yet vulnerable, searching for answers. The question hung in the air, thick with unspoken emotions.
Veronica paused, caught off guard by the bluntness of Elizabeth’s inquiry.
“I couldn’t just dismiss you in front of so many,” she finally admitted, the truth escaping in a reluctant exhale.
“Anyway,” she continued, shifting gears as she turned to face the rest of the group, her hands clasped together as though in prayer, “Above all, keep this task secret.” Veronica’s voice dropped to a steely whisper, her eyes narrowing with intensity that felt like a warning echoing off the ancient stone walls. “This mission is crucial, and no one can know what we’re about to undertake.”
“Particularly from anyone in the Ethereal House. Trust no one—not even those who claim to stand with us. You are all dismissed."
One by one, they rose, the weight of unsaid words trailing behind them as they followed Veronica out of the dimly lit chamber. As they walked down the shadowy corridors, the echoes of Veronica's grave warnings swirled in Elizabeth’s mind like a relentless tempest, refusing to settle.
For two long months, she had trained, honing her skills with a fierce dedication. Yet now, a gnawing uncertainty gripped her; she was uncertain if she could bring herself to spill blood with her own hands.
Just then, she heard Veronica call her name, slicing through her spiraling thoughts. Reluctantly, Elizabeth pivoted on her heel, a wave of apprehension flooding her as she braced for what would surely be another weighty conversation.
"Whatever you think I've done, I didn't do it, I've done nothing wrong, and—"
"I'm not punishing you!" Veronica exclaimed.
She leaned forward and whispered, “I know Victoria is in trouble, and I understand your worries, but fighting is not a shame, it’s a nobility, we don’t spill innocent blood. You can do it, do it for Victoria, for yourself, don’t fail her trust in you.”
Elizabeth's mind suddenly went blank.
She was momentarily at a loss for words. Yet, in that instant, she felt genuinely cared for by a stranger, which was surprisingly comforting.
Perhaps this aggressive boss lady of the institute wasn't as eccentric as she initially looked.
At noon, the sun hung high in the vibrant sky, casting warm rays over the arena where Elizabeth stood, her arms tightly folded as she paced anxiously. The air was thick with tension when, suddenly, she was jolted from her thoughts by a voice rising sharply from the tent nearby.
Curiosity piqued, Elizabeth stepped closer, pressing her ear against the fabric of the tent door, the rough texture grounding her in the moment.
Eavesdropping might well be her only chance to glean critical information.
“How dare you come here and disturb my tribe?” The voice that thundered was unmistakably Veronica’s, filled with indignation and fiery anger.
“My dear sister, good luck with your task. And the rest, you needn't worry about,” replied a calm but chilling voice—Datura’s, laced with malice.
“What do you want?” Veronica sputtered, visibly agitated as her hands clenched into fists.
“Think about your precious Elizabeth. You must get rid of her,” Datura ordered coldly, each word deliberate and menacing.
“Why?” Veronica gasped, her expression contorted with rage, spitting words like venom.
“I’ve tried everything to expel her from her college, to see her arrested—she must be kept away from Alfheim, or she’ll ruin everything. The prophecy states our father’s reign must continue after she turns twenty-two!” Datura's voice rose, irritation bubbling to the surface.
“I even visited her home under the cover of darkness to send my loyal servant, Christopher, to kill her. Join us, sister, or you will pay dearly down the line. Your warriors are no match for us.” She snapped, breathing heavily as if the mere thought of resistance was absurd. “If you’ve tried so much to rid yourself of her, why are you asking me?” Veronica retorted, a lingering sense of disbelief in her tone.
“That foolish Astral has ruined everything,” Datura spat, frustration evident in her voice.
“No wonder the Astral Soulblender hasn’t returned in ages! What on Earth have you done to her?” Veronica's voice trembled, a mix of scorn and shock.
“Nothing much, except she refused to divulge any secrets. And her necklace was in the wrong hand. Bring it back to me before midnight, or you’ll face dire consequences.” Datura’s tone was as frigid as the winter chill, leaving no doubt about her intent.
“Never! They are under my protection, and you will do them no harm!” Veronica shouted, her voice cracking with emotion as she pushed Datura away with desperate determination.
Elizabeth, heart pounding like a rapid drum, withdrew silently, the weight of Datura’s ominous declarations reverberating in her mind, a cold dread slipping through her veins. She instinctively reached for her necklace, the cool metal a reassuring link to Victoria’s presence, still nestled safely against her heart.
A deep breath escaped her lips, suffused with relief; she wouldn’t part with it—not now, not ever.
Upon her return to the comfort of her pearl-colored house, she found Penelope, Veronica, and Percy gathered solemnly around the table. The flickering glow of candlelight danced across their features as Penelope arranged tarot cards with precision, her movements graceful as she ignited a cluster of candles, the flames casting lively shadows that leaped about the walls.
Elaborate hexagrams sprawled across the floor, meticulously drawn with a feathered pen, the delicate strokes imbued with purpose.
With a heavy heart, Elizabeth tossed her cloak onto a nearby hanger and sank onto the plush sofa, her body trembling as she buried her face in her hands, a flood of emotion overwhelming her.
“What happened?” Penelope asked, a hint of concern threading through her voice, pausing from her preparations.
Veronica was seated in a shadowed corner, avoiding Elizabeth’s piercing gaze as guilt washed over her features. She finally stood, moving gingerly about the living room, glancing warily to ensure Datura wasn’t lurking nearby, and whispered, “You need to understand why completing this task is crucial.
Have you ever questioned why we are forced to train for combat while the nonblenders in Ethereal bask in frivolous celebrations?
Why do we risk our lives while they revel in luxury?”
She paused, panting.
“The stark difference between a soulblender and a nonblender lies in the purity of our souls. We carry the essence of a Norse god blended within us, bestowing upon us unparalleled powers. The nonblender population holds us in disdain, blaming our existence for their rejection by the gods.
Their hostility escalated significantly when the Fairy Lord, a nonblender himself, seized control, capturing many of us for his cruel experiments. Countless lives were lost—pained and tortured slowly—because our innate magic bred a dangerous jealousy in him, ultimately driving him into madness.”
“Our only flicker of hope lies in the Interstellar Crown, adorned with six radiant jewels from the cosmos, capable of awakening our latent magic. However, this crown also amplifies the powers of nonblenders, compelling the Fairy Lord to command many to find these jewels years ago. When they failed, he shifted his focus onto us.”
With palpable urgency, Veronica leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper as she pressed the weight of her words into Elizabeth’s heart. “I believe that’s why your friend Victoria was captured; she must know something significant about the Interstellar Crown. And about Datura—I swear I won’t allow her to harm you.”
Elizabeth lay on her bed, thinking late at night.
Outside, rain poured down from the sky high above, extinguishing the lights from the candelabras. Elizabeth heard a shriek of pain, and a clatter of chains, then nothing more.
Somewhere high above, thunder boomed as rain splashed down; somewhere far away, a friend waited alone in the darkness.
And Elizabeth won't let her down.