"Queens and commoners, princes and peasants, welcome to the party of the quincentury!"
For most people, receiving an invitation to the White King's Masquerade is an honor. Even attempting to attend is a chance to go down in history. But for Sol of M...
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We did not have a break but went straight to the Melvion tower. This close to the Journey, every minute was precious.
Lazy sunbeams pierced through the sky blue windows, although the room was still dim.
"The Forgotten Forest is essentially the opposite of Evamore. If you thought it was difficult to confront your hopes and dreams, imagine how much harder it will be to face your worst nightmare."
I did not flinch at the words. I had faced my worst nightmare many times.
"For some of you it will be a fear, for others a memory. Once again, the most important thing to understand is that it is not real. You will be going into the Forgotten Forest alone. Fear is not an adversary that will grant you the liberty of allies."
I closed my eyes again and this time I was in a clearing in the middle of a dark, dense forest. I spun, but all around me were thick gnarled roots and ominous looking trees.
"And I thought the characters in faery tales were dumb for going into the deep, dark woods," I muttered to myself as I plunged through the trees, determined to get this over with as quickly as possible.
I had not walked for up to a minute when I heard her.
"Sol," Ceres coughed, weakly.
I sighed, following her voice until I came to another clearing. I rubbed my arms where branches had bitten into them and made my way over to her, dry leaves crunching under my boots.
Seeing 'Ceres' lying on the the grass, I was, firstly, glad. It had only been a few days but I had missed her usual screeching and air of assertiveness.
As I got closer though the reality became clear. Seeing her red tinted eyes live and direct, being able to hold her bleeding hands and rub her back as she coughed her lungs out was a different kind of pain.
But it was pain I was prepared for. It was pain I could handle.
I sat with her as she coughed and moaned, reciting the speech I had spent so many sleepless nights planning. I cried with her as she looked me in the eyes, red to white, and told me she didn't want to die. I shook as I pulled out the sword I plunged into her chest, my hands stained crimson as I shut her eyes, putting her out of her misery.
I blinked again and I was back in the Melvion tower. I could see Fyn, backing me and shaking violently, and Ciel, hunched over. Odelyn, River and the others were scattered about the room, in various positions of upset.
What are they seeing? I wondered, worried but also morbidly curious, as I approached Fyn.
"Fyn, you're out now," I soothed, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You're okay."
But she wasn't. Far from it.
I recoiled as she turned to me, bile rising painfully in my throat as I stumbled back.
