Dedicated to WriterCArmy. It's a simple gesture of thanks, dear. Take care and enjoy reading.
OLD SIRENIAN PALACE
Thirty years ago
Deborah was unconsciously trailing above a quiet giant-like man. Her lips were pursed in a tight line and her brows were knitted together as she stared down towards the back of none other than the infamous witzardian king. She was determined to discover what he was up to at that particular moment. Especially when he was trespassing a prohibited place in her domain. If she remembered it correctly, she had competent guards stationed along the entrance. She wasn't only baffled and disturbed by their disappearance, but also at the thought that Veron had easily entered the powerful barrier she placed around it.How is he able to get in? What's he up to? The questions rang in her mind.
Deborah was so focused on snooping that she hadn't realized that she was actually—well, like everyone else before her—a see-through flying apparition.
She wasn't surprised anymore when not a soul was present when they reached the palace doors. More or less, she already had an inkling about the unfortunate demise of her allotted soldiers in that place. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Veron enter the old place like he owned it. The gigantic doors made a loud screeching sound when he pushed it open. The structure was so frail that a few debris showered from the sudden movement. The witzardian's footsteps and his ceaseless unintelligible mutterings echoed through what used to be magenta red walls that were already ruined with time and molds as he made his way towards the Eastside hallways.
Why is he heading towards my chamber? Deborah looked even more thoughtful by the minute.
She couldn't stop herself any longer so she reached out to him to confront him. Much to her astonishment, only then she realized that she was levitating. And just like the ones who previously experienced the dilemma, Deborah was confused and shocked at her situation. Her eyes darted from her transparent hands towards her almost non-existent legs and feet.
It couldn't be... I'm dream walking? She tried to reason out to herself. She couldn't think of any other reason for her current specter self.
Two knocking sounds draw her attention away from herself. Her gaze once again darted back to Veron and observed him with curiosity. He stopped right outside her old chamber doors. The king looked impatient, trying to push the door but it wouldn't budge an inch. It was obviously locked from the inside. With an irritated look on his face, he repeated knocking.
"Who—who is it?" A woman squeaked from the other side.
"It's me. Open the door." Veron impatiently demanded.
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