A Better World (Record of Ragnarok x Reader)

Chapter 40 - Back to it

A/N: The Trial Battle will come to an end in Chapter 41. Finally, lol

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[Name] was at the docks next to Flauros, both watching the ship disappear behind the horizon as Chaol just stood there – motionless with his eyes wide open.

She detected a small movement from her right. Flauros flicked his wrist, and the world they knew began twisting and tearing like a crumpled piece of paper – the sky ripped to shreds as cracks appeared under her feet. Had she not known it was the doing of the demon beside her, she might have thought this to be the beginning of the apocalypse. For a split second everything turned dark. And quiet. So quiet she could hear her heartbeat in her ears. Many times now she had seen Flauros do this very thing, yet each time she held her breath as they briefly entered that world of nothing yet everything, feeling her head throb as her eyes squinted and her brain tried to make sense of her surroundings.

But cracks of white soon filled her vision and her headache vanished. Through those rifts of time, she could see a queen-sized bed, and a gust of wind ruffling its thin sheets from the open balcony doors. More cracks. Then she saw a white oak desk, stacks upon stacks of papers set on it. Then the crumpled paper unfolded into a room – her room in the glass castle. All rips and cracks were gone.

She didn't particularly mind that Chaol was in her room, going through paper after paper, tossing them on the floor and desk the minute he skimmed through them. She had expected it, after all.

And while the man sat there, hands buried in his brown hair, trying to solve the mystery before him, [Name] let her mind drift away.

She needed to end this. Now. Because... because of what would come next. [Name] didn't particularly feel like seeing herself roam the busy streets of Wendlyn for two weeks, living off of teggya – a kind of flatbread with an oniony, crunchy taste that always left a bad aftertaste in her mouth, or see herself drown bottle after bottle of cheap wine. Neither was she interested in seeing her mental state take a huge decline. Those weeks she had spent at sea, stuck with only her sombre mind and the unusually still seawater, made her wish time after time for a storm to strike and force the ship and her with it to the bottom of the ocean. But the seawater remained tranquil. And she almost only spent her days in the narrow bed of her cabin as Nehemia's words continuously echoed through her head.

You're nothing but a coward. The words destroyed and tore and ripped her apart for each fleeting second. But she had grown to welcome that pain. To like it and to almost seek it out at times when she felt herself smile too much. And that showed in Wendlyn.

She could hear Chaol gasp.

And most important of all, she... didn't want to see Rowan. Couldn't see him. Not yet, at least. Maybe not ever. Her court had been on her the first year about visiting his grave – to bid him one last farewell. So, she could move on and grow and whatever more nonsense they spewed. But [Name] wasn't interested in any of that. What's the point of visiting his grave if his body wasn't even buried there? What's the point in saying goodbye when she isn't even deserving to look him in the eye?

And what's the fucking point in watching Chaol fall to his knees when she should be on her way back to the Dranesse by now, finishing this all-around ridiculous competition, winning this absurd tournament, so she could return to her queenly duties and her life of silent solitude?

So, the next time the beautiful half-man-half-cat demon beside her raised his hand to flick his wrist, she grabbed it, holding it tight. He must have sensed her anxiety, because he soon turned to look at her, eyes narrowed in amusement as his braided rust hair fell to the side when he cocked his head.