We stare at the Manananggal in disgust.
I have never seen such a repulsive being in my entire life, and here one is in the flesh. She ignores my look of true distaste and continues shuffling through papers with only her torn stomach. Her arms are longer than her torso, of which she disconnected a minute ago to sift through the parchment.
Welcome to Tech Duinn: The land of the Crazy.
And apparently, the disgusting. I look over at Branwen and she wrinkles her nose. Ahmya looks about ready to vomit, and I can see Thanatos physically restraining himself from touching the torn flesh left over. Her lower half and a bit of her stomach reside in front of us, pacing back and forth directly in our reach.
We waited here for a while, taking in our surroundings as the long line of visitors hoping to see their fallen go through. The land is... barren. Bland. Even more disgusting than the Manananggal in front of us.
"Ah!" She exclaims, tossing a paper onto the desk and floating over to her legs. She hops onto them, and the flesh parts to accommodate her other half, she twists a bit, rolling her hips and shoulders as she sitiuates herself on her lower-half. "That's better." She smiles at Bayou.
"Lord Archibald," She hands over a large stack of papers, her blue skin all scratched up for whatever reason, but I don't comment. Nor does anybody else, for that matter. She adjusts her crop top, of which has a yellow hue with a dainty flower in the center of it. "Are you guys also nobility from Imbolc Island?" She asks, grabbing a sheet of parchment and quill.
"Not all of us, but this is Lady Ahmya," Thanatos gestures towards her.
"She was married to Lord Archibald," Bayou lies for us. She writes it down.
"It says here that he was single," Her eyes shoot up to Bayou again. ANd then Ahmya. Ahmya swipes at the tears she summoned earlier.
"It is true," She sniffs.
"How?" The secretary asks, handing Ahmya a handkerchief she produced from the folds of her stomach.
"Well," She sniffs again, and blows her nose quaintly but dramatically in the handkerchief. "You see, he cheated." The Manananggal shakes her head. Her eyes sparkling. I almost smirked.
"He thought that... Well, he thought that I would never know that he cheated, but I did. I knew. I knew long before I should have." ANother tear. "I just... I want revenge on the bastard." She shakes her head and the girl nods.
"Yeah, I understand. Now dry your tears, he isn't worth it," She nods at Ahmya, and Ahya does as she is told. "And all of you?"
"We are for backup." Bayou answers, I shake my head in approval.
All 6 of us are beckoned forward, and we sign at least forty papers before we are allowed to pass through giant iron doors that make my head sizzle and a headache spin, my brain does turmoils until we are at least 10 feet away from it, then it cools down enough for me to sigh.
Ahmya grabs a bottle from her neck. SOmething the girl gave us, she smashes it to the ground and steps on it.
The bottle was a vial titled memories, for his loved ones to remember Lord Archibald's life. Well, relive it really. ALthough I don't know how that helps one to heal, but who knows? They do things differently here.
We aren't here to see Lord Archibald, the Lord Bayou had killed, we are here to steal something that should be rightfully ours.
YOU ARE READING
Morons and Monarchs
Fantasy"You wish, Ea. I surmount you in all things," I wink, then whisper. "Bottom." Ea chuckles dryly. "We'll see, Viviendel, what you call me later." -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* In a world where immortal feuds hold more power than a ruling monarch, a Queen dies w...
