I can't feel her pulse." Latisha raised her voice while holding Fanaza tightly. Her eyes darted from Fanaza's pale face to Rwaine, panic creeping into her tone. The trembling in her hands betrayed the fear she tried to hide.
Rwaine ran towards them, his boots slamming against the floor as he dropped to his knees.
He held Fanaza close in his hands, brushing a few strands of hair away from her cold face. Her lips were faintly blue, her skin clammy. A chill ran through him as her body began to fidget and shake uncontrollably in his arms.
His mind drifted back to the words of one of the plague doctors at the village square. The voice echoed sharply in his head.
"As long as she doesn't vomit green, she is safe."
Rwaine let out a soft, shaky sigh, his shoulders relaxing just a little at the memory.
He watched her chest rise and fall in shallow breaths, but before he could gather himself, Latisha's voice cut through again.
"Where is the plant?" She asked quickly.
Rwaine fumbled in his pouch and showed it to her. She snatched the plant from him almost immediately, muttering strange words under her breath.
A faint blue glow surrounded her palms as she cast a spell on it. The plant stiffened, then slowly softened as glowing liquid began to ooze out. She drained the juice into a small wooden cup, her hands steady but her breathing rushed.
She tried to feed it to Fanaza, but Fanaza's jaw stayed tightly shut. Her lips trembled slightly, refusing to open. Latisha grew frustrated, trying to pry her mouth open but failing.
"Rwaine, you have to feed her," she said firmly.
Rwaine raised an eyebrow, confused. "Feed her?"
Latisha looked up at him, she was serious. "Mouth to mouth."
Rwaine stared at her in disbelief, frozen for a moment.
"You want her dead or alive?" Latisha pressed, her tone sharp. "I can't pass it down her throat, perhaps she might give in to you," she added, her eyes narrowing slightly.
Rwaine hesitated, his heart pounding fast in his chest. His fingers trembled as he took the cup from her hand. He stared down at the thick, shimmering liquid, then took a small sip of it. The taste was bitter, stinging his tongue.
He moved closer to Fanaza, his breath uneven. Her face looked soft even in her fragile state, her eyelashes trembling slightly as if caught in a dream.
He leaned in slowly, his lips brushing gently against hers. The warmth of the liquid passed between them as he carefully tilted his head, pressing the potion into her mouth. Her body was tense beneath his hands, her breathing faint.
Latisha stood aside quietly, watching. The air was heavy with silence.
Then, something shifted. Fanaza's shaking stopped. Her lips moved faintly beneath his, and to his surprise, she kissed him back. It was soft, weak, but enough to make him freeze.
Latisha's eyes widened in disbelief as she watched the two. Fanaza's body began to ease into calmness, her face relaxing as if the struggle within her had faded.
Rwaine pulled back slowly, his heart thudding hard in his chest. Her eyes fluttered for a moment before closing again.
"Will she be okay? What's wrong?" Rwaine said, panic creeping into his voice.
"The plant worked, but she still needs full treatment, Rwaine," Latisha replied softly, watching Fanaza's still body.
"What do I do about it? I can't leave her this way," he said, his voice shaking as he looked down at Fanaza's sleeping face.
"The plague doctors," Latisha said, her tone lowering.
"Who are they?" Rwaine asked, his brows furrowed.
"They are not up to something good," Latisha said firmly.
Rwaine exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck. Before he could respond, Latisha smiled faintly.
"How was the kiss?" she teased.
The hair on his body stood still. He turned away quickly, his ears burning.
"It felt good," he muttered shyly.
"Are you shy?" Latisha laughed out loud, her laughter echoing off the walls.
"Shut it, old woman!" Rwaine screamed at her, his voice rising, trying to hide the embarrassment behind his tone.
Latisha crossed her arms, a mischievous glint in her old eyes as she stared at his golden eyes.
"I'm happy your lips are no longer virgin," she said with a teasing smirk.
Rwaine blinked, his face burning as the meaning sank in. "Did you intentionally do this?" he asked, his voice shaky but filled with disbelief.
"Yes, my boy," Latisha chuckled, clearly amused by his flustered state.
******
Stefan pushed Percival's door slowly, creeping inside quietly, careful not to make any sound.
The flickering candlelight dimly lighted the room. He took another cautious step forward but accidentally brushed against an armor stand. The armor clattered loudly, echoing through the stone walls.
"You sure are loud," Percival scoffed without turning around, his tone laced with dry amusement.
"I'm sorry," Stefan said quickly, flashing a small nervous smile.
"You know you shouldn't be here. I'm in quarantine," Percival said, finally turning to face him.
"Well, the physician said you may not be infected since they haven't found any symptoms on you," Stefan said, taking another step forward.
"Percival, Fanaza is missing," Stefan added suddenly.
"So?" Percival raised his voice slightly, his tone firm and steady.
"Don't act tough. I know you care," Stefan said, smirking faintly.
"No, I don't. Have you forgotten I'm only being nice because Father begged me to?" Percival replied coldly.
"You can't lie to me, Percival even if the king said such, you're already having feelings for her," Stefan teased with a hollow smile.
"Get out of my room!" Percival screamed at him and threw a pillow.
Stefan caught it and stood up casually. "Did you notice anything about those doctors who kept taking infected people out of the village?"
"I've been chained here for hours with no contact. I really don't know what's going on," Percival said.
"Something's really fishy with them, but I just can't tell what could be wrong," Stefan said softly, his eyes narrowing.
"Leave. I need to rest," Percival said and threw another pillow.
Stefan chuckled as he walked away, closing the door behind him.
Percival stood still in silence. Stefan's words about Fanaza replayed in his mind. "Fanaza is missing."
He tried to ignore it, but his stomach churned with unease. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall for a moment.
"Should I just check on her?" he muttered under his breath. He lay down but quickly sat back up again. Restless, he stood and walked toward the door.
When he stepped into the hallway, a guard approached quickly. "My prince, you shouldn't be walking around carelessly. You're on quarantine," the guard said.
Percival didn't reply. He kept walking until he reached Fanaza's chambers. When he opened the door, his heart skipped.
Lyon was standing inside.
"What are you doing here?" Percival said sharply.
Lyon froze, fear gripping him instantly. "I... just wa...nted to check on her," he stammered, his hands trembling.
Percival raised his brows, stepping closer slowly. Each step made Lyon retreat further back.
"Do you know anything about her being missing?" he asked coldly.
"No, I don't—but I know where she'll be," Lyon said quickly, swallowing hard.
"Where?" Percival demanded.
"I always see her going to the forbidden mountains," Lyon said nervously.
Percival's eyes widened slightly. Why would she go there?
"Are you sure about this?" he asked.
"Yes," Lyon said quickly.
Percival grabbed his collar roughly. Lyon froze, expecting a hit but Percival only adjusted the collar neatly and said, "Good."
Without another word, he stormed out of the room. Moments later, he was already on his horse, riding through the misty forest path, his thoughts racing. He didn't know what awaited him but his heart burned with something he couldn't name.
As soon as he left, a group of villagers ran into the courtroom in panic, their cries echoing loudly.
"My king, there is trouble!" a man shouted, almost out of breath.
"What is wrong?" King Loban said, standing from his throne.
"The villagers are dying and not only them! Every other living thing, livestock, plants—everything! The plague is killing us. Please, do something, my king!" a woman cried, tears streaming down her face.
"We will do something. For now, please take the necessary precautions to reduce its spread," Loban said calmly, though the worry in his eyes betrayed him.
"They are not working! Please do something, the kingdom is going to ruins!" another woman said painfully, collapsing to her knees.
Loban took a deep breath and gestured for the guards to guide them out respectfully.
"Father," Kael said softly, stepping forward. "Do you notice that ever since those doctors arrived, the plague has gotten worse and even spread to livestock?"
Loban looked at him, frowning deeply. "What do you propose, son?" he asked with a weary sigh.
"It's just a feeling, but those doctors can't be trusted," Kael said seriously.
A guard rushed in with a scroll. "My king, you have a letter from the plague doctors," he said.
Loban tore open the seal and read it. His face hardened, and he slammed the letter onto the table.
"What's that about, Father?" Kael asked.
"It's those doctors—they're asking for more infected people," Loban said bitterly.
"What are you going to do?" Kael asked.
"I don't know, Kael," he sighed, his voice heavy. He turned and walked away slowly, lost in thought.
******
At the House of Mirrors, Rwaine sat beside Fanaza, his eyes fixed on her sleeping face. The candlelight flickered softly, casting shadows that danced across her pale skin.
Latisha walked closer, holding an apple in her hand. She pointed it at Rwaine with a faint smile.
"It's just an apple. It won't kill you, and I won't take your eyes," Latisha said.
"Don't you actually plan on doing that?" Rwaine asked casually, glancing at her suspiciously.
Latisha sighed and took a huge bite from the apple, chewing slowly. "Your loss. I won't be kind anymore," she muttered.
Fanaza suddenly coughed, a harsh, gurgling sound escaping her throat. She spat a small amount of green liquid, and both Rwaine and Latisha's eyes widened.
"She's dying, Rwaine," Latisha said softly.
"I don't know what to do, Latisha, but I can't watch her die," he said, voice trembling.
"No matter how hard I try, I can't gather any information about the plague doctors—but I can still try, only if I can get anything that belongs to them," Latisha said.
"You want me to get something that belongs to them?" Rwaine asked.
"Yes. If I can get their mask, I could use my magic to find more about the plague and why they're actually here," Latisha said.
"I'll get it," Rwaine said, already standing up.
Latisha shook her head quickly. "No, you won't find them. They only come near infected people. But there is a way we can bring them out—we can lure them using an infected person."
"That's insane. You're saying we use an infected person as bait to lure them out?" Rwaine said, disbelief lacing his tone.
"Yes, Rwaine. That's the only thing we can do," she replied.
"How do we find an infected person who is ready to be a bait?" he asked.
Latisha's eyes slowly drifted toward Fanaza.
"No, she won't be a bait," Rwaine said, his voice almost a growl. His protectiveness was clear, his jaw clenched tight.
Latisha smiled, admiring the fire in him.
They decided to go with the plan and work on it. As they walked back to the village square, the silence was haunting. The once lively streets were now filled with dead livestock, the faint smell of decay, and green blood splattered on the walls.
Rwaine noticed a woman hiding under torn sheets, crouched low. He approached her carefully.
"Don't touch me, you'll get infected," the woman warned weakly.
"I just wanted to cover the wounds. It looks deep," he said softly, tearing a strip from his own sleeve. "Let me, please," he whispered.
She hesitated but nodded faintly. He wrapped the cloth gently around her wound, tying it firmly.
"Thank you," she said softly. "I'm Lana," she added, forcing a weak smile.
"Rwaine," he said quietly.
Latisha walked closer, her tone sharp. "Rwaine, we have to go. We don't have time."
Lana coughed violently, covering her mouth. When she pulled her hand away, green blood stained her palm. They both froze.
"We found our bait," Latisha muttered.
An hour later, Rwaine stood beside Lana as she sat still, her breathing weak.
"You don't have to do this, Lana," he said softly.
"I don't mind. I'm going to die anyway, but at least I can help. Maybe others can survive," she said with a forced smile.
Rwaine nodded silently, his eyes heavy with sympathy.
Latisha moved closer to her and held her hands. "This is going to sting," she warned gently.
She raised her hand over Lana's wrist and drew a symbol in the air. A thin line opened on Lana's skin, and green blood began to flow.
Lana flinched, groaning softly, but didn't pull away. Latisha levitated the blood into a small bowl, her magic glowing dimly around it.
Then they heard footsteps. More people approached—infected villagers, weak but determined.
"Lana told us about your plan," one of them said. "We may not have hope, but at least our children can."
"If this can cure my children, I don't mind risking it all," another said.
"Me too," a third added.
Latisha nodded and collected their blood too.
Once done, she, Rwaine and the villagers started spreading the blood across the village square, leading all the way into the woods — creating a faint, glowing trail.
"I hope this works," Rwaine murmured.
They waited in silence.
The air grew cold, and the night thickened with mist. Then, faint figures appeared, the plague doctors. Their birdlike masks gleamed eerily under the moonlight as they stepped closer.
"I can feel the infected are here," one of the doctors said, his voice muffled beneath the mask.
Suddenly, a sword pressed against his neck.
"Turn back slowly," Rwaine said coldly, his tone deadly calm.
"So we fell for your bait," the doctor chuckled darkly. He turned, and recognition flashed in his eyes. "You again."
He remembered Rwaine, the man who had protected Fanaza at the village square. The cloak and those golden eyes gave him away instantly.
Without warning, the plague doctor lunged forward like a wild animal, pulling a small blade from his robe
Rwaine blocked swiftly, the clang of steel echoing through the trees. Sparks flew as their blades collided.
Another doctor rushed toward him, but Latisha lifted her hands, chanting. Blue flames erupted, throwing the attacker backward.
Rwaine ducked, rolled, and slashed across his opponent's arm. The doctor staggered, and his mask flew off, landing on the ground near Rwaine.
Rwaine moved and grabbed it.
The instant his fingers touched the mask, his body went rigid. A searing pain shot through his head and his eyes widened.
He fell to his knees as flashes of unknown images filled his mind — cities burning, voices screaming, and shadows whispering in languages he couldn't understand.
His vision blurred, and his heart pounded violently against his ribs. The world around him vanished, replaced by an endless golden light.
More images rushed through his mind—too bright, too real. He saw a vast field stretching endlessly before him, covered in mist and glowing dust.
Then, from the distance, figures began to appear — countless people, men and women, nobles and peasants, all kneeling. One by one, they bowed before him.
Rwaine looked around, confusion flooding his chest. The sky shifted colors, the sun lowering itself until it knelt before him, its golden rays dimming in submission.
The moon drifted down from the heavens, bowing low beside the stars. Even the wind seemed to still, whispering in a language he couldn't understand.
All living things — the trees, the rivers, the beasts, even the earth beneath his feet — bent before him in reverence.
His golden eyes widened, reflecting the light of the sun and moon that now surrounded him. He could hear loud whispers.
"The Sinister, the Sinsiter"
The air trembled, and Rwaine felt his heart twist with fear and awe. He didn't understand what he was seeing and why everything in existence knelt to him.
The light grew too bright, burning through his vision. His body trembled, black blood began to drip from his eyes.
Latisha's voice sounded far away, calling his name as he clutched the mask tightly.
"Rwaine! What did you see? Answer me, what did you see?" she screamed, shaking him.
But Rwaine couldn't speak. His mind was still lost in that vision — in that world where even the sun and the moon bowed before him.
"Rwiane, Rwaine." She called out holding his face in her palms.
Then Rwiane whispered.
"They bowed."