❝What are we?❞ She asked.
Fingers traced the outline of her lips.
❝Heart mates.❞ He answered.
〝♡〞
A bond stretched between two worlds. A prince in search of his queen. An entire kingdom balanced on the fate of their destiny.
〝♧〞
Eighteen year-ol...
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Agatha let out a shuddering breath as she shut the door behind her. She told him as much as she could without frightening him into making wrong decisions. Now for her part. Queen Genevieve always wanted her daughter to have the life she deserves with the person she loved. She would make sure that be made possible.
Agatha made a portal to get to the Rune tower as quickly as possible. Thankfully, the tower seemed untouched from the outside. She held her rucksack to her chest as she quickly ran inside. If she could convince her colleagues then she could even ask for her help in this war.
Agatha stopped short as soon as she took a step inside the Rune tower. Bloodied bodies littered the stone. Some had several body parts missing or gaping holes where their organs had been ripped apart from their body. Agatha swallowed the scream on the edge of her throat and ran through the different floors.
Everywhere it was the same. Not one student or worker had been spares. Agatha twisted through the stone pathways until she came to a stop before a large painting of a beautiful landscape.
She made a rune on the painting using her fingertip that glowed with magic. This was another one of her creations. A safe cellar that been created for use during a natural calamity or something equally worse. She guessed the current situation surpassed all those events.
Agatha had to draw three more runes before she reached the innermost space of the cellar that could only be accessed by a Guardian. If the other Guardians were hiding somewhere, it had to be in there. Agatha carefully stepped inside, one hand ready before her, white sparks of magic hovering a breath away from her skin.
Agatha expected not seeing the Guardians but nothing prepared her for the sight before her. The rucksack in her hands dropped on the carved stone floor. A sheaf of papers scattered from the bag - some turning crimson as the pooled blood absorbed into the old parchment papers.
Mangled, broken, incapacitated, severed body parts were all that she could lay her eyes on. Bile rose up her throat and Agatha heaved the contents in her stomach on the floor near the wall.
"I expected the infamous Agatha Marlowe to have a lot more spine than that."
Agatha froze. From the corner of her eye, she saw a silhouette creep out from the shadows of the cellar. The only sound in the room was her own ragged breathing and the crisp footsteps of the intruder.
