5 Months Later...
Cassiopeia now lay in ruins. Smoke billows from crumbling buildings, and the air is thick with the stench of death and destruction.
People, both civilians and soldiers, roam the streets in a state of panic, desperately seeking safety.
Among the chaos, Eleanor dashes through the debris-filled streets, her face streaked with tears and fear in her eyes.
Her tattered clothes and bloodied hands are evidence of the horrors she's witnessed. She glances over her shoulder, her heart pounding, searching for any signs of danger.
Astrid runs alongside Eleanor, her expression filled with worry. She clutches the hand of Aiden.
Astrid's voice cracks as she screams Eleanor's name over the cacophony of screams and gunfire.
"Eleanor! Eleanor! Stay with us!"
Eleanor ignores Astrid's pleas, her sole focus on escaping the chaos that surrounds her.
She picks up her pace, her legs pumping as she races towards an open field on the outskirts of the city.
Astrid and Aiden exchange a look of concern, their hearts heavy with the uncertainty of Eleanor's fate.
They make a difficult decision and veer in the opposite direction, seeking shelter and safety.
"WE NEED TO SAVE ELEANOR!"
Aiden yelled at her, "NO! JUST LET HER BE, LET'S GO!"
Eleanor reaches the peaceful field, her breath ragged as she collapses to her knees.
The sound of gunshots echoes in the distance, causing her to flinch and cover her ears, overwhelmed by the terror that surrounds her.
Just as despair threatens to consume her, a random boy emerges from the shadows. He rushes to Eleanor's side, extending a trembling hand.
"Come on! We need to find shelter!"
Eleanor, her body trembling, takes Thomas's hand.
Together, they rise to their feet and begin running towards the nearest shelter, their footsteps drowned out by the relentless sounds of war.
As they disappear into the darkness, the scene remains marred by the devastation and suffering that plagues Cassiopeia.
Eleanor and Thomas burst through the doors of the shelter, their breaths heavy with exhaustion and fear.
The dark room is crowded with other displaced individuals seeking refuge from the ongoing war.
Eleanor, her anger still simmering beneath the surface, turns to face Thomas. Her voice is laced with frustration as she demands an answer.
"What's your name?"
Thomas, initially taken aback by Eleanor's anger, recovers quickly, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.
"Well, aren't we demanding? Should I bow down before you, milady?"
Eleanor's eyes narrow, unamused by his attempts at humor. She crosses her arms, waiting for a serious response.
"I've had enough of your jokes. Just tell me your name."
Thomas chuckles, realizing the severity of Eleanor's mood. He raises his hand, jokingly saluting her.
"Very well, milady. My name is Thomas. But you can call me Sir Jester if you'd like."
Eleanor rolls her eyes, her frustration mounting as Thomas continues to make light of the situation. She winces as pain shoots through her side, reminding her of her injuries.
"Sir Jester, huh? Well, Sir Jester, how about you start acting like a serious human being and help me with this wound?"
Thomas's playful demeanor momentarily falters as he realizes the seriousness of Eleanor's condition. He nods, his smile fading, and steps closer to examine her wound.
"Alright, Eleanor. Let's take care of that wound, shall we?"
As Thomas begins to treat Eleanor's wound, his movements gentle and precise, Eleanor can't help but continue to vent her frustration.
"Do you have any idea how serious this is? This isn't a joke, Thomas!"
Thomas glances up at her, a flicker of seriousness in his eyes, though his lips still curl into a faint smile.
"Well, Eleanor, what can I say? I'm just trying to keep the mood light in a world that's gone dark. Besides, a little laughter can be a powerful weapon against despair."
Before Thomas could touch her other wound, she screams.
"OUCH! UGH!"
Making Thomas flinch.
"I haven't even touched it yet!"
Eleanor sits on a makeshift cot, her face etched with pain and exhaustion.
Thomas, ever the joker, rummages through a pile of debris in the corner of the shelter.
He pulls out a crumpled newspaper and scans its contents.
"Eleanor! Guess what I found! According to this newspaper, the war is about to end in just an hour!"
Eleanor's eyes widen in disbelief, a glimmer of hope flickering in her weary gaze.
"Don't play with me, Thomas. You know I've had enough of your jokes."
Thomas jumps up and down, unable to contain his excitement.
"No jokes this time, I promise! We might finally see an end to this madness, Eleanor!"
Eleanor's anger resurfaces, frustration evident in her voice.
"And what exactly is so funny about the war ending, Thomas? This isn't a game!"
Thomas, still bouncing with excitement, seemingly unfazed by Eleanor's anger, continues to jest.
"Oh, come on, Eleanor! Can't you picture it? The war ending, celebrations in the streets, and us dancing like fools!"
Eleanor's patience wears thin, her voice rising in volume.
"STOP WITH YOUR FOOLISHNESS, THOMAS! THIS WAR HAS TAKEN EVERYTHING FROM US. IT'S NOT A LAUGHING MATTER!"
Undeterred by Eleanor's outburst, Thomas leaps onto a nearby chair, his face beaming.
"But can't you imagine the headlines? 'Thomas, the Jester, celebrates the end of the war like a little girl!'"
Eleanor's anger boils over, her voice filled with frustration and fury.
"I've had enough of your immature antics, Thomas! This war has torn families apart, destroyed homes, and claimed countless lives. It's not a joke!"
Thomas rolled his eyes, "You're a coward!"
YOU ARE READING
Black Magic
Misterio / SuspensoA woman in the 19th century curses her husband with black magic, she doesn't know the exchange of that, it might end her whole bloodline.
