Sting E. x OC : The Forbidden Treasure

Chapter 6 - Edolas' secrets

Before their astonished eyes, the vast white stone edifice tore through the earth to threaten the heavens with its rooftop; facing no equal but its twin in Earthland, ostentatious and immense, nearly piercing the clouds with its pretentious grandeur. All this extravagance left no doubt as to where the three mages found themselves, and lest they forget, the wind took care to wave the banner that proudly bore the insignia of the Tigers.

"What are we doing at the guild?" Sting grumbled, a bit wary.

"You should wait outside," she instructed.

Sting had heard of the land of the exceeds and their alternate personalities in Edolas. They had all laughed heartily at the legend, speculating on each other's appearances over several drinks, never imagining they might one day witness it.

He tore his gaze from the building to glance at the young woman beside him. It took surpassing the enchanting veil of her physical allure to remember all the cunning she was capable of. It was the beauty of the Deceiver that made it so dangerous, the distraction of her sky-blue eyes that warranted caution against drowning in them. So, before deciding anything, before losing himself in her honeyed voice that caressed her even prettier lips, he made sure always to remember, so that he could act accordingly.
Thus, he stepped ahead to push open the doors of Sabertooth.

A morbid silence followed.

The stupefied expression of Edolas' Tigers greeted the two newcomers. Even though they had prepared themselves, Sting and Blanche could not hide their surprise at the faces of those they already knew from another world. Worse for their hosts, completely unprepared, who could not shake off an expression which one could not tell to be frightening or frightened.

The acrid scent of deep sorrow suddenly gripped the dragon slayer's heart. He recognized the metallic and bitter exhalations of heavy tears and soon understood they were swooning on his chest, flooded in desolation. He looked down to see a white mane he hadn't even noticed had crushed against him, so swift was the moment. The young woman who embraced him cried her heart out, wrapping her trembling arms around him, gasping for breath between sobs.

"I knew you'd come back!" she struggled to say.

He then recognized Blanche's voice.

"I told you, you should have stayed outside," whispered the one with whom he had arrived.

"Blanche?" Sting murmured, still confused.

She raised her face, bathed in tears, to the dragon slayer. He then discovered her wan complexion, her pale lips, and especially her eyes: lifeless, devoid of soul and nothing but an immaculate void. The sky reflections he knew in Blanche had faded so much that it passed to be a corpse's gaze. Her scarred eyelids and cheeks led to the inevitable truth: she was blind, seeing only shadows of the colors she once knew.

Sting was seized by dread. A strange compassion, a shared sorrow, gripped him at the sight of this woman he did not know. He saw in her moonlit hair those of the mage with whom he had shared a night, and in the curves of her silhouette, the memory of her above him, their fiery embrace, and in her scent, hers; in her veneer, he saw Blanche. Yet, in that shattered gaze from which only tears flowed, he recognized none of the mischief and silver glints that animated Blanche's eyes. He hated this infinite sorrow that disfigured her.

"It's really you, isn't it?" she wept. "I recognize your scent, I knew it as soon as you crossed the door..."

"Blanche, that's enough."

The severe voice that uttered these words chilled the assembly.

"That's not who you think it is. Right?"