Freedom comes at a price and a young Earthal princess must live the life of somebody else, even if it means facing evil threats and impossible odds.
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As someone who craves freedom, Princess Clarabelle cannot just stand by and let her life be take...
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"A CHARM is similar to an incantation or a spell; a practice believed to have magic power. It is not something tangible, but any sort of charm can be stored in an enchanter's possession, may it be precious jewelry or some old photograph. Hiestorans first learned the craft of charm-binding during the Light Age..."
Ever since Clara attended Professor Kendrick's Charms and Relics class this afternoon, her eyes could not set themselves on anything but the girl sitting two rows down from her seat.
The rest of the First Class had moved on from their slight ruckus upon the transferee's arrival and now had shown disinterest in the new girl's presence.
But not Clara. Not when her tiny and petite frame knocked on the doors of her memory. The girl's paper-white skin and rose blush set Clara keen to know her more. A spark of recognition flickered, but a heavy dark curtain prevented her from remembering.
She leaned further to the right, knocking Holly sideways so that she could have a better look at her face. Hannah, as what the princess remembered of her name, had her chocolate tresses flow like a waterfall around her small face. She never once looked up ever since she took her seat. Once in a while, her head would move an inch to read the lecture written on the glass board. Clara worried that the girl's lack of movement would petrify her for eternity.
Clara huffed and cupped her cheeks with her palm. Her feet tapped over the marble flooring, creating a rhythmic beat in its wake. Students threw curious glances her way, but nobody dared say a thing. The girl shivered at the feeling of being watched.
"Princess, is something the matter?" Holly whispered, her lips barely parting.
"Have you seen that girl from somewhere, Holly? Perhaps, she could be someone familiar to you."
Holly stared at the girl's back, long and hard, but no matter how hard she squeezed her brain to search that face somewhere in her memories, there was no record of Hannah Fern.
"No, princess."
"Hmm, but why does she seem so familiar? Where have I seen her?"
She stared at the landscape featured by the tall window opposite her with a sigh. There was no doubt of Blaire's beauty, the colorful trees, and the horizon, even if the nearing dusk was darkening it, were perfectly synchronizing with the details of each golden barrier—a thin sparkling sheet that surrounded its premise, protecting the students from unwanted outsiders. Clara sometimes wondered if she would be allowed to leave the comforts of Eirinia to visit her empire, Terralis. Would Cledora, the academy for earth-wielders like her, be as beautiful as Blaire? She had only heard of its popularity and splendor from Prince Alistair. He would always tell her stories from the outside—stories she wished she could not just hear but could also witness.
Clara might feel angry about what they did to her on the night of her birthday, but she couldn't help but worry about the castle's state the moment they learned she was gone. At least, in all the time she spent as Anneliese, there was only one question she kept asking herself every day: would they forgive her if they learned that she chose not to come back just to live the life of another?
