Somewhere Someplace

Blossom yawned rather the yawn while making way through these darkened halls. Within one hand was a bucket filled with water—quite heavy—, and within her other hand was a stick with slithery hair as its tip—a mop.

It was night, yet not midnight; thus, her work did not end yet; she was to so mop the flooring of this manor-estate’s entrance area which was of marble—she had to admit, it was fairly shiny and pretty. Such was, at least, what the fatigued Melon had so instructed when she had shoved this bucket and mop into her hands before, bluntly, fucking off somewhere someplace else, having ‘other chores’ to which needed to be attended.

Certainly, this day was so very laborious for everyone… Since the course of that preceding day, the demands and expectations had suddenly inflated, as did the ‘bitchness’ of her group’s overseeing maid—even the most minute of errors were critiqued, harshly. Everything had to be presentable and perfect… All due to that earl who had so abruptly arrived just yesterday.

Indeed, Earl Walnut of North Creamlight—a small yet industrious realm of the neighboring ‘Biggest Earldom of Oned Creamlight’—had apparently spent quite the time scouring Huckleberry’s eastern bulge looking for a suitor for his daughter, and he appeared to have found one, to Sir Berrybottom’s dismay who was most certainly interested in a suitress for his most favored of sons—the one so ‘predestined’ to carry forth House Berrybottom’s blood towards greater things.

Certainly, Sir Berrybottom had apparently spent quite the considerable energy during their private talks—though, Blossom liked to think they were not just…talking, even though they absolutely were; it was funny to misconstrue—attempting to convince Earl Walnut to at least…consider Swordstaff, and he was being stubbornly persistent in this regard.

Such was in spite of the obvious fact that, no matter which son, an arrangement of this caliber would only be beneficial for House Berrybottom.

However, Earl Walnut was adamant about Billhook, continuously likening him to his daughter—a sentiment which had only been further reinforced by a private chat between the two this morning. Indeed, it seemed the earl had taken a specific fancy to Billhook—she could not blame him.

Thus, while Earl Walnut had the card of his daughter, Sir Berrybottom had his own card in the form of Billhook; both had to consent for an arrangement to be made; one had to budge.

All of this, of course, was all that which Blossom had garnered from the many whispers and gossips spreading amongst the maids throughout this entire workful day from dawn to dusk. Truly, it was so bizarre that these nobles just had to flaunt their servants to each other, to the point of even including a few during these private occurrences.

Blossom could not help but reflect upon words her mother had spoken some time ago; that a house’s own maids were amongst their the most…loquacious liabilities… She was starting to see it now, considering how much she had managed to learn from just listening to third-hand gossips of which she had not the choice but to hear…

And Blossom did not necessary want to learn or hear… “None of this matters to me… None of this matters to me… So, stop thinking about it!” she whined in gently silent whisper, shaking her head.

Truly, Blossom this day was being especially focused and dutiful with her work, for to do otherwise would merely make her heart ache and her soul seethe from all that which lingered within. And in this moment, she only had one focused priority: mopping that marble floor.

Thus, she made way to do precisely so.

However, she soon abruptly paused…

Two figures in the hall ahead, she saw. One with a lit candle in hand, walking slowly and steadily while supporting the other who seemed clumsier, whispering. Apple and Black, she instantly identified; their presence alone blocked the way, even if not truly, to the stairway which led to that entrance area.

Those two girls were not even ‘friends’ nor had associated much with each other, but ever since that…beating incident almost two-weeks ago, those two along with Burgundy had become quite stuck to each other… And despite the fact Blossom was directly in the direction of their facing, neither of them noticed her motionless standing, eyes too…astray to the ground and around as they came to a gentle pause, Black helping Apple slump herself next to the windows while she herself remained standing…

Blossom had no idea what those two were even doing out and about at this hour, for they should be in bed. Nevertheless, initial sight had frozen her still; her legs refused to move, shackled by apprehensive fear which shivered from her breaths…

Yet breathing in and out… Right… Reminding herself of Apple and Black’s apology the day before, the seeming sincerity in their sobbing emotions and solemn words; reminding herself that they…promised they would never…hurt her again; she overcame the fear, opting to naively take them by their words.

With a deep resolving breath, Blossom thus approached.

-|-

“Th-th-th-thank you… For forr helping m-m-me… Ble-bla-Black…” Apple solemnly thanked, stuttering voice mellow and…lowly; her gentle apple-plum eyes were more tucked between her legs as she hugged them, her hands somewhat awkward in their lock.

“Never a problem, Apple dear…” Black simply replied, her orange-amber eyes quite baggy; “We will persevere together…”

Abruptly, emerging footsteps. “Hello…” a mellow voice so timidly greeted.

Immediately, Black winced as her eyes’ sight came lancing in spook, Apple being far more delayed than not. “Oh! Gods, Pink… When…?” She seemed confused, never mind startled.

“…oh… Sorry…” Blossom…awkwardly apologized… “I was…already kind of…there… I saw you two… So… Was just wondering…what you…two are…doing…”

“Oh…” Black withdrew her eyes somewhat, before grasping her head as if a experiencing an abrupt strike of pain; “Fortune’s luck that we bumped each other so…”

“W-w-w-we couldn’t sleeep… And I-I nee-needed a… the… air…flow… Water…” Apple tried to answer, her voice stuttering weirdly…

Yet Blossom looked… It was not just a stutter she was noticing, but also Apple’s intonation was awfully…odd. Weird…

“Apple needed a walk and some water, so I helped her to the well…” Black stated, her eyes glancing down at Apple…

Blossom’s eyes returned to Black… “She…could not…go on her own?” she just…asked; “You both have done so by yourselves before, rightly?”

“I-I-I could…” Apple began to answer… “B-b-but… bUt… My-my legs… Heavy… Too heavy… Or…stingy, hard move…” Or, at least, she attempted to.

Blossom just kind of…stared…

“Forgive her, she is just…very tired, and that…” Black tried to answer, yet…

“D-d-do not, not… Sp-speak for me! I-I could, I can do it myself!” Apple became aggravated.

“Rightly, sorry, Apple dear…” Black…immediately apologized; “You have this…”

“I’m sleepy, so m-my voice… m-m-my talking are…is…worse… So, sorry…” Apple thus stated…

“Oh… I see…” Blossom just said, admittedly becoming slightly weirded out…

“I needed… he-help… I didn’t w-w-want no go alone…” she continued; “A-also… Also…” Yet her eyes then drifted more down and away as if embarrassed… “A-a-also I-I d-d-d-d-do not…did not know…where the well…is…was…”

“Huh?” Blossom, head tilting, so…stared…

Black’s eyes immediately shifted to Apple; “You did not have to say that, Apple dear…”

“You…do not know where the…well is?” Blossom quickly asked… Everyone should know by now where the manor’s water well is…

“I-I-I forgot… I-I-I forgot… I-I, it wasn’t—I…” Apple, becoming more stressed, tried to answer…

However…

“Pink, with respect,” Black immediately interjected herself, giving Blossom a blunt look, “we would appreciate it if you would keep walking, please.”

Blossom…looked, eyes understanding… “Oh…” Black’s tone made her feel…hit… “Rightly… I… I am…sorry…” She could not even be mad…

“No need… Just… You obviously have tasks to do, thus…” Black simply spoke.

“Yeah… Alrightly…” Blossom nodded… “Goodbye, then…” She promptly departed off, mop and bucket still in hand.

Frankly, although they were like this the day before, she still…did not how to describe what she just saw… Only that they were not like this weeks before.

Indeed, this warrants continued monitoring

-|||-

Blossom so yawned, tapping her mouth as she did so. A fellow peer standing graciously next and near had so yawned as well. Who had yawned first and had caused the other to follow was hard to tell.

It was early in the morning, the sun freshly rising. Naturally, Blossom was quite tired indeed; her having had stayed awake the night before well beyond necessary mopping that stupid floor…certainly did not help. It would be the time of morning meal for both staff and Berrybottom alike, had her junior group and a whole lot of others not been so dragged fresh out of bed—practically—whither they presently were: outside in the world beyond. In this almost open grassy field slightly beyond the boundaries of that manor-estate.

Blossom stood in a column of lines of many other maids, and she—by random chance and Fortune’s luck—happened to be in the front.

There were North Creamlight retinues scattered about, a rather impatiently waiting…him so standing at a slight distance to her front left, and a rather eager and anticipating Sir standing more center and parallel to her—on the other side of this allocated space.

Indeed… They had all been so dragged here this fresh morning just to be displayed souvenirs for yet another vain attempt to leave an impressive impression, no doubt.

Apparently, Sir Berrybottom wanted to demonstrate his youngest and most chosen’s magical talents to Earl Walnut, hence why Swordstaff had a…well…staff. Though, Blossom had heard that such staffs were supposed to be quite large, yet his was puny… She sneered from this thought.

Nevertheless, it truly seemed as if that man-boy did not want to be here anymore than the others—or, rather, at least Blossom herself… Indeed, she was the only one who seemingly showed overt disinterest; all the others stood with humble respect, keeping their feelings concealed.

Speaking of whom… Blossom peered about… So many maids were present, indeed, yet all were juniors; no propers or seniors…

“Ugh!” Swordstaff’s abrupt loud voice only barely contained his annoyance; “Father… I mean no disrespect, but where is he?”

“Patience, boy. The earl said he will be here for your demonstration; he merely had early matters to attend.” his father so replied, he himself also perhaps impatient albeit being better at concealing it; “It took much effort to persuade his accord to witnessing your birthed talents. This could be your chance; the day I have been preparing you for. Now, be at your absolute best.” Sir Berrybottom urged.

Ever the father’s boy, Swordstaff quickly straightened himself. “I understand, father…” Yet his focus then shifted to the column of junior maids standing with elegant grace… “Hmgh…” he glared at she who did not want to be glared, as though her presence was one that fundamentally irked him. His gaze swiftly returned to his father; “What spells are the earl expecting?”

“Oh, well, I told him of your proficiencies in fire magic, that you have been tutored to harness your spellcraft using a ‘wand’, and that you have dabbled in elements of Far Western sorcery” Sir Berrybottom replied.

“Excellent…” Swordstaff grinned… These expectations worked well for him, for this demonstration need not be made for merely one. Indeed, he knew what spell to cast.

Yet the wait would continue, timed passing onwards… Before, finally, appearing in the distance behind the column of juniors were two carriages, one more elaborate than the other, making way as the zebras pulling them came clopping forth. The arriving carriages proceeded to halt in front of Swordstaff’s sight, albeit at a reasonable…distance.

Stepping out of the elaborate carriage, Earl Walnut made way flanked by two of his own, in the hands of one…a sort of mannequin thing.

Blossom and others shifted their sights to their right, tracking eyes following the earl’s approach.

“Apologies for my tardiness, Sir Berrybottom” Earl Walnut so humbly spoke upon arrival, approaching the Sir… “I had to fetch a few things to augment this unique show you have kindly offered”.

“Not one issue!” Sir Berrybottom so reassured; “That only provided us further time to prepare the scene to your liking… As requested, I have gathered the majority of our junior staff!”

Now standing next to Sir Berrybottom, Earl Walnut so cast his eyes to the columns of junior maids organized parallel and front of view, on the other side of Swordstaff’s allocated…space. “To my liking, indeed…” he merely said, his eyes staring as if grinning ever-slight.

Blossom shivered, no thanks to the fact his leering eyes seemed more towards her than anyone else. Ah… So, that was why all she saw were juniors… Earl Walnut himself had so requested this ‘display’… Freak. Such was the only word to enter mind.

Swordstaff, meanwhile, watched with some confusion as a retinue so plopped that mannequin onto the ground directly within his line of sight… “What is…that?”

Sir Berrybottom’s likewise eyes turned to Earl Walnut, expecting answer.

“That…is something for you to burn, boy.” Earl Walnut stated with friendly tone; “I was told of your masteries in the fire school of magic and of your comprehension of Far Western destruction sorcery as a rare example of cross duality; that you have even syncretized the two…”

Swordstaff promptly glared at his father… Sir Berrybottom had been seemingly more ostentatious than he had suggested…

“That mannequin, you see,” Earl Walnut continued, approaching closer somewhat, “is specially made… One difficult to burn, but that should not pose any challenge to you, surely…”

Swordstaff stared at the mannequin, as did the maids…

“Creepy…” Blossom heard a peer mumble…

Indeed, that mannequin was clothed and womanly; it was awfully realistic too, as if a lady was standing there… Yet it was obviously fake—not a real woman—which only made it all the more uncanny. It looked like a cursed object that would come alive and murder…

“It is something of treasured value now, really…” Earl Walnut so continued, yet his eyes seemed more towards the column of maids than to Swordstaff… “It is a unique product of…Coastfield, you see, and due to its destruction, now one of a kind…”

Immediately hearing, Blossom’s demeanor shifted slightly, her jaws so slightly trembling from her tensing breaths, eyes drifting down… Although blood was the only thing binding her to that accursed city, hearing its name bore an emotional weight, nevertheless… One, perhaps, noticeably affecting.

“No matter, of course. I am something of a collector, so I have more; this was purchased recently” Earl Walnut, having seen, merely spoke; stepping away, he returned to standing next to the Sir; “Now then!” He clapped; “Get on with it, boy. Demonstrate.”

“Gladly…” Swordstaff simply exhaled, fixating his focus onto that uncanny mannequin before his line of sight, right within his casting range… He needed to envision and imagine to channel and fuel; readying his wand, he closed his eyes… Cogitating, focusing, priming that which was imbued deeply within.

Blossom herself perhaps…attended with some interest. She had never truly seen magic in action before, so…she was…maybe…admittedly curious.

With an exhale, Swordstaff softly waved his wand in a specific encircling fashion, before pointing its tip directly at the mannequin, his eyes flinging open with focused targeting sight. “Magia. Ignis caeruleus. Conflagrat.” his voice thus began to incant, each word being uttered as if conveying power, a glowing outline beginning to appear in his irises as barely visible wisps began to ebb and flow as if in reply; “Ante oculos illud. Inflammat!”

Suddenly, his eyes flashed into blue fiery ignition, that radiant signa of the arcane revealing itself. Wisp-dusty radiance, ever-faint yet now more apparent, flowed out from his being, concentrating upon his wand’s tip; condensing and energizing, a small convecting ‘ball’ began to take shape, throbbing almost.

“Ignis. Igni!” Swordstaff so uttered.

Nothing…

Before snap, pop, boom.

That sizzling spark of a ball so snapped from the wand’s tip, spontaneously expanding and igniting as it pierced through the air as if a fiery blue trailing meteorite, before popping in a small yet potent flashing poof directly before striking, unleashing a liquidic combusting wave of such violent blue flames unlike anything natural. So bright and so hot, these arcane flames devoured the mannequin, burning as much as melting, the smoke from which sparked and glittered.

“Woah…” Blossom had not the words, and hers was amongst many such breaths of amaze; even at their distance, they all could feel the sheer heat.

“My oh my…” Earl Walnut seemed intrigued, to Sir Berrybottom’s satisfied delight; “That was certainly neither conventional fire magic nor destruction sorcery despite the incantation… Syncretic, I see…” The earl looked at the Sir; “Well, it appears your Swordstaff does have a most interesting talent, considering he is without natural affinities…”

“Which only adds more to his blood’s value, surely…” Sir Berrybottom remarked, receptive indeed…

Swordstaff smirked as he looked at the mannequin, its fibers and foundations burning asunder. It did not take long before it along with some of the surrounding grass were thoroughly eaten by the sparking flames, which quickly withered afterwards. A pile of burnt compounds, heated ash, and glittery residuals was all that remained. Him imagining a certain someone in that mannequin’s stead had certainly added to that spell’s potency.

However…

“Unfortunately,” Earl Walnut thus spoke, “as you should know, it is the mother who carries the arcane, not the father…” His attention promptly shifted; “Well, that was certainly a show!” He raised his arm; “Now then… Bring the next one…”

“Next one?” Sir Berrybottom was confused…

One of the earl’s retinues proceeded to return to the other of those two carriages, opening it as he retrieved and began to bring…

Blossom’s eyes widened, a strange bleakness entering her breaths… Audible gasps bounced amongst her peers.

Swordstaff stared in kind, confused; his eyes immediately turned to his father…

“…what is the meaning of this?” Sir Berrybottom’s head snapped the earl.

“Oh, just the other thing I brought with me…” Earl Walnut so tacitly smirked.

Yet the retinue was hardly carrying as much as escorting… Indeed, that other ‘thing’ trembled while struggling to walk, before being shoved onto the knees right next to the burnt corpse of that mannequin.

Seemingly shackled in hands and feet, a collar around neck, dressed in rags; a young-looking girl, hair nightly blue and vibrant orange-yellowish eyes devoid of life despite breaths being breathed… Indeed, a commodity ‘thing’ and an animate being: a slave of the least protected sorts.

“Gods’ sacred…” Blossom heard a peer utter.

Indeed, the breaths of all those around had shifted from amaze to shock… However, not necessarily from a righteous place of heart…

“You dare bring such a monstrosity near my manor?! I want no part of this!” Sir Berrybottom so spoke.

Indeed, for this young girl of a slave had furry ears protruding from atop the head, and a puffy tail to go along; nails as sharp as claws, and fangs of a more beastly order.

A ‘demi-human’… Blossom had never seen such in person, but the stories she had heard and had been told… The things those demon-worshipers had done and continued to do... They were man-eaters and savages… Yet with deceptive appearances conveying cutesy attraction and heartfelt allure.

“You are the one who wished to demonstrate your son, and this is the demonstration I want” Earl Walnut merely eyed; “Worry not, the beastkin shan’t devour you; she has been thoroughly broken…”

Indeed… Eyes so empty, breaths seemingly murmuring away things unheard; neither terrified nor frightened, just hollow… All Blossom saw was, truly, a broken girl… She did not know what to feel, truth be told. Contradictions emerged; her mind felt confused, and she was not the only one.

Either way, however, she was horrified.

“Now then,” Earl Walnut’s gaze so turned to Swordstaff, “what will you do, boy? What is thy resolve?”

Swordstaff, sweating slightly, stared at that demi-slave now within his line of sight… His breaths were jittery, truth be told. Yet… “Is this a test of convictions, then? My willpower to push?” he muttered; “Fine…” He closed his eyes, and immediately began to focus as his wand so gestured and targeted. “Magia. Ignis caeruleus. Conflagrat.” That outline once again began to emerge within his eyes.

“He is…really going to commit?” a peer so uttered.

“Ante oculos illud. Inflammat!” Swiftly, Swordstaff’s eyes once again ignited as fiery blue dust-wispy radiance so beckoned to his wand’s tip, that condensing ball reforging.

“Gods, this is truly happening?” another peer so gasped.

“Ignis. Igni!” Snap and spark, thus the ball of fiery blue went lancing, the trailing flames sparking brighter as it slowly but swiftly enough pierced through the air and towards the shackled demi-girl who remained utterly static, rapidly murmuring away with such faint words…

Gasps so shuddered; many immediately hid their eyes and ears. Blossom, however, continued to stare, frozen… Although most of them would never care to pity a ‘demi-fiend’, none of them actually wanted to see…this sight.

Yet, before the mark was struck, the hapless murmurs finished with a single declarative breath…

Pop. The volatile fireball abruptly shattered in a fizzling whimper, spraying glimmer as if a tamed popping firework, wisp-dusty radiance having mutated away from that fiery blue and towards a strange…negative contrasting…inverted purple-indigo of sorts—it was hard to describe.

The demi-girl calmly stood herself up, smirking as her own pulsating ignited eyes stared with taunting amusement. Thus, with a single breath, that spell had been terminated.

Blossom stared… All the other maids stared… Their minds were uncertain if they should feel relief or…impending doom.

Swordstaff’s eyes widened, flabbergasted… “What just happened? …anti-magic?”

“Ah, how disappointing…” Earl Walnut merely spoke… “Well done, my dear” he said to the slave; “You may return to the carriage and get yourself dressed…”

“Peh…” the demi-girl just pehed, snarling almost as her ignited eyes returned to normalcy. Forcing the shackles off, she stormed right off to the carriage, bitter and unamused.

Swordstaff immediately lanced his sight to the earl, his father as well.

“Oh, I did not mention that corrupted fox is also part of my guard detail—a trusted piece at that…” Earl Walnut casually remarked with a grin…

Swordstaff gritted his teeth, breaths becoming quite charged from this…utter humiliation; “You… You… This was a deceit! You set me up!”

“What is the meaning of this, Sir Walnut?” Sir Berrybottom swiftly interrogated.

Earl Walnut, however, swung quite the blunt look; “Do not be mistaken, Sir Berrybottom, your Swordstaff’s magical talents are profound, and I find his resolve be…fascinating. However, had my daughter been here to witness this scene, she would have broken into tears, cursing your son’s name from his ease in attempting to immolate a helpless girl—demi-fiend, slave, matters not. My daughter would not stand being suited with such a man; thus, I cannot stand to suit her with such. Billhook would have no doubt also stood with his own resolve, to my daughter’s admiration.”

“Ah…” Sir Berrybottom’s breaths decompressed, nodding with each exhale… “So, this was what you…” He realized… Indeed, this was not intended to be a demonstration to the earl of Swordstaff’s talents, but rather a demonstration from the earl of Swordstaff’s incompatibility. “We… We must…continue talking…further; this is not finished!” However, he stared with eyes of a certain obsessive persistence.

“Certainly, Sir Berrybottom…” Earl Walnut merely acquiesced; “However, I desire to use tomorrow’s day of festives to arrange a formal meeting…” His eyes momentarily glanced at the column of juniors, one more specifically; “So, I would prefer if this wheel turned faster…”