I, psycho.

Chapter Fourty One

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I was drowning in a sea of blood.

My body was sinking deeper into the deep red sea, my lungs burning with effort to keep the air in and the water out.

I knew I was dreaming, so I let myself.. breath.

I let the last gulp air go out of me and allowed the water to flow into me.

It was a only dream, and dreaming Gaea could afford to let herself die.

Here, I did not have to struggle all that much. Here, it was okay to die.

Water clogged my insides as my consciousness drifted, but even then, I was glad. I was more than glad, I was happy.

Death was sweet oblivion, endless peace, the end to my wretched begining, the awakening gasp from my nightmare.

Death was silent. Death was nothing.

And I would give anything to be nothing.

My eyes blinked open to see the white ceiling of my loft.

As always, death eluded me.

My alarm went blaring the next second, doing nothing in driving away the lingering shadows of my nightmares.

Nothing ever could completely drive them away, they were always there, waiting, watching and if I looked just over my shoulders behind me, I could see them, hear them, dark and yet blinding enough to overshadow everything else in my life, silent, yet loud enough to drown every other thing I could possibly feel.

No, my nightmares would never disappear, they could only be replaced by new nightmares. Blood for blood. Flesh for flesh.

The floor was cold beneath my feet, the heater could do nothing about the icy coldness of my magic. For a moment, I could feel the blood under my feet, cold, sticky, wet.

I looked down but saw nothing but marble floor. Today would be worse than yesterday, I already knew it.

I popped a few anti-hallucinatory pills into my body before I entered into the bathroom.

It worked, the water was blood red but there were no hands drowning me in the tub.

As I stepped out if the bath, I heard the church bells tolling. It was a Sunday, the few religious left would be headed to church.

I dressed myself in some sweats and grabbed my car keys as I left my loft.
I took my bike but left out the helmet, somehow I felt like feeling the bite of the wind against my face today.

When my bike came to the Port Millèu, the only port with a transportation gate that led straight to Othranto, I parked it in a little corner and gave the keys to a man waiting at the side.

I saw the greed in his eyes and felt it lash against my skin.

It was a Neiman Marcus Limited Edition Fighter, worth eleven million in the highest currency the world had established.

It was a favorite of mine so, I wished very much that he would steal it.

It was a fast machine, he would get very far. It would give me great joy to hunt him, to paint the black sheen of the bike in glorious red.

But even as I thought it, I knew my wish would not come to pass.

Together with his greed, I felt his overwhelming fear.

The world had seen me go at my own mother with a smile on my face, the experienced ones like him knew that my worst was yet to come.

No more free targets for me, I thought with a sigh, just when I'd purchased an Egyptian knife that sliced flesh like butter.

"Herr Maine, we've been expecting you," a familiar bespectacled redhead said as she walked quickly towards me, the wind from the ocean recking havoc on her curls.

"Chevez," I said with a slight smile as I gave her my hand which she placed on her forehead and kissed, "good morning"

"Good morning, Herr," she said with a responding smile, "The Monarch sent me to guide you"

I smile slightly. Sending someone familiar in the hopes of getting me to behave, smart, that one.

"After you," I said with a nod.

She put her hand forward, indicating that I walk in front.

She might have been guiding me but she couldn't walk before me. It was a hierarchy thing.

When on Maine Land, a blooded Maine could kill for the most trival of things and get away with it, let alone the Herr.

Striding behind me, Chavez said, "preparations have been made for the coronation, details that you requested have been added and all that is left is your presence in Castle Othranto that the ceremony might commence"

I hummed lightly under my breath, distracted by the way my body became lighter and fainter as I got closer to the portal.

When I said 'guide', I meant that in more ways than one.

Not only was she literally guiding me, she was also magically doing it.

It took more than access to a portal to enter the Mine Capital, Othranto. One needed to be guided by someone with specific permission from the Monarch that was magically sealed. Any attempt to transport unallowed cargoes or persons resulted in instant death.

In centuries back, when the Dynast of the El-Darado Dynasty had attempted to lay claim to Othranto because of its infinite resources, prime location and unbounded access to magic, he'd simply.. disappeared.

He'd been taken apart by time itself, dimensions upon dimensions, space upon space, all these pockets of time had laid claim to bits of his body and soul until he was no more.

It had proven an important point, Othranto was impregnable. Trespassing meant death.

You neither leave nor enter without express permission. It was why I was sure, sure enough to go to sleep every night since my mother's escape, I was sure that mother was there. In Othranto, trapped.

I blinked and I was on the shores of Othranto.

Even from where I stood, I could feel the joyful humm in the air as the people prepared to crown a new Herr.

The death and disappearance of all possible heirs if direct descent had weighed down heavily on every person on the Monarchy.

Now that there was finally one, they were more than happy to crown me, notwithstanding the fact that I was insane and possible parricidal, okay, scratch the possibly.

They were not humans with petty feelings. They were Maine, each and every last of them were a little crazy.

Asides from the ones who had already been planning on usurping the throne after Elan's reign and those that rejected me on the basis of principle, the rest of the lot were pretty welcoming of me.

I took in a deep breath, tasting the salt and magic in the air.

I went on my knees, felt the wetness of the sand penetrate the material if my cloth and touch my skin as I sifted my hands through the wet sands of the shore.

I would be crowned today. I would not run today.

I was Gàeá Àdolorata Màïne, and this was my home.

In it, I would fear no one.

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To be continued...

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