WAR STORM (Red Queen 4// Alternate Version)

Chapter 9

Beware, intense emotional trauma to transpire! Mwa ha! As always, I'd like to say I deeply enjoy all of your comments! They inspire me!

Enjoy! "The ghost who loves me, in what poisoned way he can.

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Mare

"Mare," Farley whispers my name again. "They're in the East Entrance Antechamber, outside the primary banquet room. Do you know where that is?"

I shake my head mutely and dumbly, only now regretting my prior disinterest to memorize the estate's layout. I suppose I was lingering on the hope that we'd leave before it became of importance.

"In other, simpler words, take the hallway that leads to Volo's throne room. You'll find the grand doors easily enough."

Hardly absorbing her knowledge, I shoulder past her in a daze and launch into a run.

Without demand for turning, I can sense Tyton's presence chasing after me, though he's thoughtful not to attempt to quell my nerve by pursuing a conversation with me at the current moment. Farley must be tailing us as well, but not containing the same urgency Tyton's owns.

I wish I could rest in faith that my family is here for positive reasons, though Farley's expression dashes any hope of something so unlikely, unlikely even if an emotionless man had delivered the news. Fate will forever oppose me, and that is all there is to it.

My reflections spurt away as the gold-paneled glass doors enter my sight, nearly all thoughts gone, for that matter. A sole one remains, however, that one the most morbid of all. Though contemplating further, it is not separate, rather a collection of the worst possible outcomes that may coincide with the afternoon. Alike to that of a Merandus whisper paging through my head, hundreds of diverse incidents are brought to mind, each ghastly in their own unique way.

Tip-toeing around the last turn I need to make, I halt, leary of what I might find. A brother, without an arm, perhaps; or maybe no brother will greet me at all. Just the thought sends a round of butterflies into my stomach and thorax.

And I find... nothing. Absolutely nothing out of the order, plainly another corridor in the Samos' more-than-ample manor. Additional drapery and illustrated landscapes line the walls, sickeningly excessive, yet tasteful in their own right.

"Mare?" I hear my name in the structure of a question from the direction to my back. Of course, there were two ways to turn, and I chose right over left. The woman's tone is dehydrated, both from lack of water and emotional duress, I can deduct, though deprived of so much as another word.

I can also tell, it is my mother who speaks.

I should rotate my feet as fast as in battle, but for just a moment longer, I stay in place, a microsecond of greed. They won't notice, I convince myself. Just one more blink of false security and happiness. But that, I know, is a lie. As days acting as a soldier slip by, I've learned that there is no such thing as security or happiness in this life. And never will such things exist.

So, slowly, I shuffle myself around counterclockwise, appreciating the scenery that will surely be meaningless to me soon, more important affairs dominating my schedule over viewing the pretty dusky sky. Whisps of clouds levitate and decorate the twilight backdrop, whiter than snow.

After not long enough, I come face to face with my family, the people I wanted more than anything to reunite with yesterday. Now, with perhaps something to be considered as better judgment, I feel that they'd be protected much better somewhere else. But isn't as though it was their choice to be here.