The Call of Nys #5 (Waverly Stump and The 7 Realms)

8 - W A V E R L Y

Twice Ghost left to visit The Hoax; to update himself about the happenings in regards to the upcoming election amongst the Balderdash. At first, the mere thought of such an activity being hosted would have sounded foolish to Waverly, but given how maddeningly boring it was down in Nys, she could not blame those involved.

For a quarter of a moment, she too felt drawn to visit the Hoax in order to have something to do other than lie around, writhing in pain until torture found her again.

Using her elbows and with calculated movements, she supported herself to a stand, groaning from the weight inside her chest that seemed to always hang there like a permanent signature. From where she stood, she saw that the Coath was slowly being overtaken by fast rushing mist. It blew past and shrouded everything in impenetrable haze, making her wish she had moved a bit faster.

With sluggish limps, she dragged her feet onward.

Inside the fog, the wind was mildly warm and seemed to filter into her bones, rendering them weak. Halting not too far from where she started, she slumped against a rock, heaving and gasping. Pestilence was heavy in the air, and it soaked up every bit of energy whilst filling her with illness. From the corner, a sudden grunt came followed by an advancing shadow. She craned to see, but surprisingly, the unseen creature gave a fearful yelp and bolted, leaving her to wonder what had set it off.

To no surprise, the environment disappeared when she blinked.

The new scene was the inside of a place that looked like a temple. The stone wedging her from behind was taller, and when she looked, saw that it was actually a large pedestal of stome. Pillars wrapped the room in a repeated spiral so that they were all she could see from where she sat to the very vague end of the room.

With effort, she shoved herself to rise and discovered that she was indeed inside a temple. The ceiling was deep coved and incredibly high, splattered with dim glyphs and writings. From a peephole in its middle, moonlight streamed down onto a statue, which stood on top of the large pedestal. Everything in the room was crafted out of white stone, but the white of it all had gone even duller than the beam of moonlight. The sight of the statue - a round slab of stone with four connected symbols in the middle - was something that gave her a queer feeling.

But before she could place where she had once seen it, voices streamed into the atmosphere. She hastened to hide behind a pillar. It felt unnaturally thick and cold, but she pressed against it for support.

Then, a pair strolled into the temple, conversing in what sounded pleasantly like local Alp. When both came fully into the dim light, she bit down on her tongue to keep from making a sound.

"You never heed me, Father." Aurora, the Elf princess, said with a faint break in her voice. She wore a silver velvet dress that Waverly caught herself staring too long at. It appeared so distractingly lovely under the moonlight. In the distance, the princess's hair showed twinkling spots that came from a tiny circlet around her head.

All in all, she resembled a dream.

Her father, King Javan, was in purple velvet that screamed his majesty even without his royal crown. He spun to face her, towering over her by a head. "No. It be ye who fails to heed me. However I may attempt to enlighten ye for the good of it and for ye being my only heir, ye fails to see sense."

"I don't see the sense in idling about, waiting for the throne to pass to me when you will likely remain King for another thousand years." She daughter stressed, appearing deeply upset. "Let me go on a hunt; a short trip even. I'll scour the Great Jungle if I have to, but I will not sit back any longer."

She went around to stand in front of him when he turned away. "You won't let me have this because you fear I will go looking for him, don't you?"

Javan withdrew his gaze again, his expression drawing taut. "Ye will be wise to avert from tis subject."