The Young Masked King: Jester King

Chapter 8:

Chapter 8: "His return"

*Sedna

Barnard, Mikolo Wan, and the return of Upsilon Andromeda; those three things just showed up in the same day while I'm silently shattering my plead towards Dominique. He is quite true that I shouldn't act like Pandora and just irrationally opening up some sorts of boxes, but in this case, my actions, my yearningness and thirst for more answers only been toppled and hurled by mush more mysterious questions that is a complete buzzkill. Now that the legendary and world-renowned poetic lovelorn, Mikolo Wan was now all over the place because of his unique style on expressing his emotions at his works and other important accounts that he hid for he is a Centauri in birth but an eccentric one that wanted to be more unignoring, like Lady Proxima told me, but why drowning the Young Masked King, what was the Majesty had found out that made him do that, and how did this newbie Mars had encounter the Majesty and have a tutorial about deciphering the poems. 'Barnard' the answer at the message that I vomited is still a complete mystery yet I have theories but it seems too shaky to be one and the only thing that this will be answered in every edges if I personally ask the Young Masked king about it but then, there is another person, and not just another person joining at the last minute of this bigger yet blurry picture but a very precious person at Ganymede's life will comeback is really giving me the goosebumps, much more terrifying than the silhouette's demise for even he is none to be found. Actually, those three things that pop up while councilor hopping have a doubt on my chest if they are truly conjoined upon Dominique's and my case on our family's mysterious deaths. Maybe it's just all over my head, that my curiosity just doodling all over the information and setting yarns to pattern them all, even though they're not the right pieces for the puzzle I'm doing, maybe I just need to snap out of this reverie and sleep after I close the curtains near the bedside of Ganymede's boudoir, for the night sky is now howling to me to sleep peacefully and yonder upon my dreamscape.

I slowly slapped the cold wooden floor with Ganymede's naked sore feet, then quickly jumped off through the curtains and closed it. While still near the window, my mouth can't help but to giggle for in this day, I just truly concluded that Ganymede's height is inappropriate at her eighteen-year-old age, even though it is quite a thumbs up for me as a fourteen-year-old trash being swayed by the course of this uncanny and weird wind of destiny.

I then stepped back at the window and promptly went towards the bed but suddenly, unfortunate's bow poked me and leave me laying down the floor because I ripped into an uneven plank.

"Bah!! How many times do life takes a literal rock bottom at me?!" when I finished on wiping the dust and sweats of that embarrassing moment, I flicker at the bottom of my eyes shine that made me wonder and curious about it. I slouched my back and finally picked some sort of literature manuscript because of its handwoven binding, handwritten writings, and papers sticking out. As soon I had retreated at Ganymede's comfy and fluffy feathered filled bed, a faint yet solid thump from outside was heard that made me startle for a bit but because my fingers stealthily starts on flipping the manuscript's page, my fear can't help but to let my curiousness flow through my veins while every single senses that the human body conjure will only focus onto this intriguing piece of art, for my innocently eyes had seen everything, and it is filled with mysteries until my mouth had spoken their own answers one by one, that only myself in this moment would only understand, for only curious cats will notice and would spill its tea!

Yet the pounding and thumping outside of Ganymede's boudoir was getting louder and louder, whenever I am being dragged deeper and deeper into the depths of the cobwebbed past. At last, my heart stop pounding, my eyes stopped on seeing, but my ears had heard the knob suddenly being moved by the person standing behind of the door, producing this amass of a silhouette below the floor making me want to shriek and hide but, amazingly I didn't feel fear, only curiousness whomever behind the door at the middle of night.