Helena Drazel is a twenty five year old Royal from Diamond Kingdom. She's a charming and cheerful woman, ready to leave the sheltered embrace of her family's estate. Her mother previously a Clover citizen and an old friend of late Acier Silva, gets...
Helena has to face off Darren, a Silver Eagle's knight, who's attacking the hospital and its staff. However something is wrong with Darren's behavior and appearance.
Chapter Text
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Helena slowly stood up. She widened her arms and clutched harder onto the handles of her whips. Her loose, dark chocolate hair floated up, lifted by the air. The beige grimoire with a red diamond, wrapped in paper bandages, at the front opened up in front of her. It glowed with power, just as she did.
Helena raised her head. Her red lips were pressed together, brows furrowed. The deep brown eyes issued a challenge.
The plaza in front of the hospital fell silent.
The Silver Eagle's Darren stood in the middle of it and gazed at Helena. His expression was surprised. The red swirling markings on his cheeks were prominent and stood out against his fair completion. Mana illuminated his figure.
Few meters away from him, on the grand stairs leading to the hospital's entrance the director kept on hiding, behind Eric's back. The young healer with messy, dirty blonde hair was frozen. Fear and shock filled his warm, brown eyes. His life had to had flashed in front of him. He had been so close to dying. If not for Helena the vines would have reached him and he would meet his end.
Other people, who were present on the plaza, pulled back terrified. However they were too afraid to try to run away. With a corner of her eye Helena noticed Dina standing at the same spot, where she was the moment earlier.
Helena turned her attention back to the Silver Eagle's knight. Her whips' handles gave her courage.
"Darren!" She exclaimed. "What do you think you're doing?"
He shook his blonde hair and tugged a loose strand behind his pointy ear. His lips spread in an ugly smile.
"I know no Darren," he said in a low tone. "That man you speak of is gone."
Helena felt a wave of anxiety sweep over her. 'What did he mean by that?'
"Then who are you?" The question hung in the air.
"I do not have to explain myself to a mere human," multiple thick roots shot up from the ground behind him. He did not attack yet. They just hung in the air framing him and giving off a morbid shadow.
Darren, or whoever was controlling his body, furrowed his brows. He gazed at Helena attentively.
"Your mana," he noticed. "You are one of the Royals," his voice was loud and accusatory. It echoed through the plaza. "You deserve death more than any of these people around here!"
