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Chapter 577: Familiar Noises

A sudden loud thud resounded, the scamper of feet streaking across wood.

Noisy.

Annoying.

Unpleasant.

Then it happened again – even louder, a tumultuous slam rippling through the quiet, the peace... her peace.

This time, her eyelids flew open with a start, indignation flushing away her exhaustion, and emitting a small raspy groan, Sera was fully awake.

A plain empty bedroom greeted her furrowed stare. The bed she laid upon a fine mess of crinkled silk instead of grass, and the morning air she felt no longer cool and humid.

.....

For the second day in a row, Sera had taken residence in an actual home, His home, and for the first time alone – without Eshlwyn by her side.

She tried, deep into the night, creeping up the stairs, only to find to her utter dismay, Eshlwyn’s room already presently occupied.

By Him... deeply asleep beside her... that Man... Eshlwyn’s Master...

Her Sovereign Keeper.

“Late, late! Shit, I’m late! Shit! Goddamn piece of shit alarm can’t even depend on...”

Even in the early rays of dawn, he was still ever as vexing.

Outside continued to blare a loud ruckus, wrenching a further aggravated Sera out of bed, parting open the bedroom door to investigate further.

At once, something breezed past her – a disheveled figure fumbling with the buttons of a wrinkled shirt, bent coattails fluttering closely behind. He had something pressed against his ear – a small, familiar black slab, the very same one Eshwlyn had too recently possessed.

A smartphone, if she recalled correctly. Even today, the true purpose of such a peculiar device continues to elude her. He was talking to it as He hurriedly paced, and she could hear His exasperation echoing across the halls.

“Yes Nick, I am fully capable of reading a clock. I know what time it is – look, I’m already halfway on my way there as we speak! I promise! You fire me now, I’ll crash my bike through the front window, I swear to God...”

Apparently, the slab was called Nick.

Truly, quite a peculiar device indeed.

His words abruptly vanished along with Him through the loud slam of another door, but even then, quieter, fainter, she could still hear Him hissing, whispering... almost pleading.

“Adalia, wake up. Adalia, wake up. Adalia – hey, hello, good morning, hi! I knew you’d be here! Look, I’m about to get really naked right now, so do you mind taking the rest of your nap downstairs? Wait, what? Huh? Um, uh, y-yea – yes – go – yes, you can take my pillow along with you, go. Bye.”

Shortly after, the door slowly parted open again, and out quietly emerged the sickly Matriarch, a small pillow tightly wrapped between her pale, slender arms, her gray, pupilless gaze half-buried within the softness of the fabric.

They briefly shared a glance with one another. A wordless exchange, a silent greeting, before the Matriarch turned away, gradually sinking down the stairs with not a single creak trailing her step.

The Matriarch was quiet. Thus, the Matriarch was nice. The type of company she wouldn’t mind lingering... so unlike the clamorous, boisterous scuffling she could still hear emanating from the closed door.

But now since He was making His ruckus far elsewhere, it meant Eshlwyn was once again finally left unattended – her chance to be among welcomed company once more.

Sera moved in the opposite direction of that flustered, panicky figure from before, quickly reaching an opened door left ajar and entering at once, silencing every voice and every sound with a single click shut behind her.

Eshlywn was sleeping, surprisingly, peacefully. Sera crept closer to the bedside, noting the silence of her breathing, the absence of any tension upon her slumbering expression, the calmness, the bliss... all juxtaposing the symptoms of an Elf staving off hibernation.

The night prior, she tossed and turned, beads of sweat soaking her hair, dampening her garbs, snapping awake at sporadic intervals in the middle of the night in loud, coughing fits.

None of that seemed to have transpired now, only when with him...

Why?

Sera plopped herself down beside her, watching, tending, as she had done those so many winter seasons together.

Carmilla would shut herself in her chambers, sulking, reading, feeding, rarely ever seen prowling elsewhere. Azamoth could be found in the dungeons, pus oozing from his blistering sores, researching, experimenting, slaving away at perfecting his vessel so that he may walk upon the living once more.

Meanwhile, Menastro’s mindless wails could be heard bouncing the walls of the fortress, shambling through the infinite halls and floors without an inkling of purpose. Outside, a jet of blue light blazing in the raging blizzard, Caeru flapped freely and without regard, his blinding glare gleaming through the windows as he streaked past them in an instant.

And she would just sit, a silent company, a welcomed company... tending to the Knight-Elf, Eshwlyn’s coughing fits. They were fond memories for her, one she could still vividly recall in great detail.

But alas, none of them were real. As distinct, as graphic as her recollections were of those days – they never actually happened.

Just a tale, Eshlywn told her.

A story made to entertain.

It was truly a striking thought to ponder. The reality she had known, merely fiction... and yet, she was here now, Eshwlyn was too... and in here, they can now be together again, truly.

And if nothing else, that is one thing she would be eternally grateful for...

To Him.

Suddenly there was a knocking noise, and Sera’s gaze immediately snapped forward, catching the door slowly creaking open... then, a face leaned in from the gap, scouring around briefly, before spotting her quickly.

“Thought you’d be in here...”

It was a different face from the one she saw earlier this morning. No longer unkempt, a mess, flailing around madly in panic. This face was calm, placid, with an amicable gaze peering right back at her.

At the very least, it wasn’t unpleasant.

“I’m going to work now, won’t be back for a while,” the face spoke, his stark black eyes lingering with a sense of urgency. “Ash would probably wake soon, and if she can’t manage herself, then cereal’s in the cupboard – she likes ’em. That’s breakfast. Need any help, Adalia’s downstairs, alright?”

He always spoke too fast, too casual. It was annoying to unravel. But, with time, she was slowly getting used to it... used to Him.

Sera nodded.

He smiled at her. “Okay, be back soon. Try and see if I can get the Christmas lights without you.”

She growled.

He smiled wider. “Kidding.”

And with that, she heard the click of the door, the scurry down the staircase, another reverberating slam... and harrowingly, the rumbling roar of the atrocious metal beast He had tame for His own.

As His obnoxious collage of noises faded to silence, Eshwlyn began to stir, a murmur escaping her lips as she breathed in deeply.

“Master... goodbye...” Her bleary eyes slowly fluttered open in a squint, staring back at her. “Master... left... scent fading... say farewell... Sera... help me...”

This was normal, a sliver of consciousness momentarily rousing, spouting nonsensical things, meaningless things, only to lapse back to slumber right after.

Just like those days that never were...

“Sera...” She murmured again, dragging a sluggish hand across the sheets, raising a heavy finger forward. “Help... say goodbye... type...”

Another heavy breath – and Eshlwyn returned to rest, speaking not another word, yet her finger remained pointing forward.

Sera’s gaze drifted over, stopping, blinking – noticing a small black slab resting atop the table by her bedside.

Another Nick.

Curious, Sera scooted over, closer, her loose violet sleeves dangling in the air as she went and reached out towards it.

It was cold in her hand, smooth to the touch, bright golden beads of light shimmering back at her at its surface – a mirror? She slanted her head, the dark silhouette within slanting right back. Sera allowed her hands to wander freely, and somewhere at the sides, she felt a tiny click dispersing across her finger.

At once, the Nick flared to life, brightening – revealing a sketch, a painting... was it a painting? And within the painting was an eerily lifelike illustration of Eshwlyn herself as well as the smiling expression of her Master right beside her in the forefront of a large spiraling complex brimming with crowds.

Sera made a faint noise of her own – curiosity intensifying.

She continued to scour about, swiping, tapping, flicking, eager to see what other outcomes awaited her, and at one point, she stumbled upon an archive of other detailed depictions, except... they were all paintings of him, rows and rows, and drawn almost as if sketched in secret.

Swiping it aside, her fingers continue to rifle through the contents of this fascinating Nick. Then, after one whimsical tap of a peculiar-looking symbol, Sera was greeted with another painting.

A familiar painting.

The world of Asteria stared back at her from beyond the display.

How was this possible?

In the corner of the glazed mirror, a set of words caught her eye, words that struck out to her in an instant.

<>

Another faint noise... curiouser...

There was another peculiar symbol in the middle of the screen, one she warily hovered a finger over, tapping, and at once – Sera jerked – as loud triumphant trumpets began to blare from within Nick itself.

But she disregarded the noise, mesmerized, staring unblinkingly as the paintings in front of her sprang to life. Many, many wondrous things she saw, many, many familiar things.

The deep valleys and high peaks of Frieden Rike, the gleaming gold of Creekwood’s woodlands, the frozen mountain ranges of Lamir, Nick unveiling it all before her eyes.

Then, suddenly, a voice spoke...

“I hunger and thirst only for the truth,” it said, a savoring smirk to its tone. “If you are able to quench my cravings, then I have no qualms in joining you... oh, baneful Queen of Demons. ”

Carmilla stared right back at her, younger, bloodier, her eyes bulging the veins of a Frenzied state.

There were many more flashes, many more voices.

She heard Azamoth as he was still whole, reigning his rule upon an ancient province. Menastro with his humanity intact, ridding the land of evil and hailed by many as the savior of all. In a flash of blue light, Caeru spread his wings for the first time, his screech echoing to a vast empty sky.

.....

A flutter of violet...and roaming the woods, a lone child could be seen rummaging through the forest greens, gradually coming to a halt, as her eyes aglow spotted a tall figure peering back at her through the trees.

And Sera heard once more those gentle words she remembered so long ago.

“The night-child of the forest, or as the rumors proclaim, and yet here a find but a simple Fey,” seeing His smile, his kindly gaze. “Tell me little one, whatever is your name?”

The image then cut to a pitch-black, a deafening silence returning, before a different scene slowly began to emerge, a familiar silhouette began to fill up the dark...flowing white hair billowing with the breeze, and gentle green eyes gazing contentedly over a lush meadow.

A little girl could be seen frolicking across the meadow, a scenery of swaying flowers, blue skies, and gaping holes etched into countless hills and mounds. The little girl looked up, her hair just as silky white, her eyes gleaming the same bright hue, and even her smile – a close resemblance that went beyond blood and flesh.

“Le... nora...” on the bed, shifting ever so slightly, Eshwlyn quietly breathed out once more, her parted lips falling into a fond smile. “Let’s... go home... now... shall we?”

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