The not-a-princess

I nearly kill myself from books

I sighed offering her a hand, "We have finished out tasked mission, please rise and we can continue the next procedure." 

Kieren groans, "there's a part two? Ugh, I had a massage planned." 

"I wanna come!" Cried James immediately. 

Ria pouted, "Me three! Don't leave me out of this."  

I shook my head, "There is many things to plan if we wish to protect our future. Do you not understand? If the thief is on the loose, he may have more insights and plans because if his whole motive to take control over multiple kingdoms, there will be more than one tactic. May we use the dorm Ria? Let's chalk up a planboard." 

There was a collective sigh but to my surprise James took my hand instead and brushed himself up, "Well as much as I would like a relaxing spa... I guess the future is more important." 

Ria kicked his shin, "Don't tell me you've gone all soft just because of a pretty girl? Surely you don't want to save the kingdoms with a sore back? They'll call you Old grandpa Jay-Jay." 

She called out teasingly. Apparently James's ego was everything because instantly his face went slack and he collapsed on a pile of grass. "Old grandpa Jay-Jay?..." he mumbled, looking quite faint. 

Kieren snorted, "Drama Queen." 

Fine. They can do as they like. They better not come to me when their kingdoms are over-thrown by some snotty first-year. I let out a huff in annoyance and storm off. Behind me I faintly catch Ria's voice calling me back as apparently Kieren had made beef tacos for lunch. You think I care? Your ego is more important than the lives of others? Your massage is more important? Beef tacos? You know what. Let your lives get over-run then only do you realise. 

I couldn't quite register how I felt. It was all in a blur, my thoughts and emotions and my motives. My head and heart and gut were fighting within me. And the worst part was - I didn't know why. Was it that I had gone soft for those weirdos? Or is it something else?

Shaking my head, I make my way straight for the library. I push open its old, dusty doors – I guess no one has been here a while – into a large, dimly lit room. Hundreds of wooden shelves pushed aside onto the walls and were filled right to the brim with hundred of tattered books and journals. Yet one wall was empty. Tables were crowded and no space was left for breathing, it was if all the world's books, published or not were just dumped here.

Perfect, I thought. I set towards a shelf lined with books of legends and I walk, scanning the shelves. After taking armfulls of books, i set them down and started grabbing the nearest thing, a neon green sharpie and started charting away on the front cover. I wrote ideas, tactics, clues, evidence and suspects. All written and connected to the content of whichever book i had chosen to analyse a certain topic on.

Occasionally,I was crossing my work and connecting and re-crossing and adding on thoughts and before I knew I it, I had moved on to a blank wall. Before long, the whole wall was filled yet nothing was adding up. I had all the pieces but I couldn't put together the jigsaw. 

At all. 

I wanted to cry. I hadn't eaten, isolated myself for hours, over-worked my brain and memory, all for... nothing? It couldn't be. I drained myself in self-pity. 

Dramatically, (Ria would have approved) I fall helplessly onto the floor. I hate this. I hate my useless brain... I thought history repeated itself. Surely there must be a knight or peasant or someone who has tried something similar. And hopefully it came with an instruction manual on how to stop it in three easy steps. 

 Wait. 

Something like this must've happened before, I just need to look in the history section not the myths. I got up instantly and ran through the hallways, muttering to myself, my words echoing through the lonely walls as if they were looking for someone to talk to.

Why not? I ran faster and yelled, "Excalibur. Theft attempts!" My hair blew into my face and I could feel the strain pulling at my leg muscles. The walls talked back the echo, "Theft... attempt... theft... theft... neft... left..." 

I dove left making a bootlegged hard to port turn - thank my probably pirated ancestors for giving me these quick instincts. It didn't take too long to find the right section and I ran my fingers through the spine of books, dragged ladders back and forth, and pulled out books after the other. I grinned widely, making my face hurt. 

Sooner or later I had a huge pile of books going for the most relevant like: tales of treason just because of famous swords to least relevant: legends of King Arthur and his hair creams recipe! (written almost 500 years ago). Not very reliant, I guess. 

Not wasting a second, I pour over books, one after the other. Before I realised, the words slowly start to blur together. Exhaustion uninvited and angry crept in silently. Time begin to mix, hours into minutes, minutes into seconds. Before, I knew it, it was midnight. Darkness crept in, quietly peeking itself in and twisting itself around, making me blind. 

Why can't I see? 

Shoot. 

Its midnight already? I stood up as fast as I could, too fast, my knees don't keep up and buckled and I fell. I groaned – what's wrong with me? I wasted a whole day... with no outcome. Tiredness pounded my head. And huger clawed at my stomach. Somehow or the other I managed to drag myself back to my room holding onto windows and walls for support, scrapping my ragged boots across the hard floor. 

I swung open the door, luckily it was unlocked otherwise I would've bashed it head first and wondered why I hadn't opened the door. The room was dark except a streak of moon light and with in its spotlight perched at the edge of the balcony fence was Ria, a sketchbook and pen in her hand. She had the other hand under Tapioca's ear as if for comfort and the lines under her eyes had deepened. 

She turned to me and suppressed a bright smile, her eyes tired though, I must've scared her, "Hey. I was worried, you know." My theory was correct I guess - so I haven't completely lost it. I feel touched, realising she must've been waiting for me. She looked me up and down and laughed, "My, my, look at you. Fighting battles by yourself are we now?" 

I just stumble, if I was normal I would've died of embarrassment but right now I didn't mind some help. Ria was wearing the same hello kitty pyjamas like the first time I saw her (at least now she's wearing bottoms), she and Tapioca both helped me into bed, I clasped my arm around her small waist and the dogs gemmed collar, too tired to even speak. The next morning Ria wasn't here and... I was late for class! I quickly hopped out of bed, and... ugh my head is spinning like crazy. This happened once before when someone spiked the juice and I had a hangover. 

Without realising my knees buckled once more and I collapsed onto the bed with a huge thud. Colours are dancing everywhere like a ballet no one has seen before. That's probably not good. Every limb in my body refused to move and I didn't bother to strain them so I just lie in bed. I could feel a fever taking over. I hate feeling hopeless. Like there's a crazy megalomaniac on the loose trying to take over kingdoms with a legendary sword and I'm just here...