Sorry this chapter is out so late, I’ve been quite moody

□қіddиаppєd□

Paris paused and took in the information. Scanning the pages once more, he thought, This must be the book the poem mentions! The answer to the mysterious death must lie within this book! A rush of excitement tingled through his spine. His first Quest was within his grasp. Taking another deep breath, he began to read the next part, until…

“Hands off the book,” a voice said, “Or the girl is dead.”

Paris looked up with his aqua eyes and instantly dropped the book. The man had a Tobi up to Iris’ throat. A stone dropped down his stomach. The assassin’s Dark Identity concealed his face, and his Dark Slain looked deadly. His clothes are all dark, he thought randomly. When Paris’ eyes turned to Iris, they grew to the size of dinner plates. She looked scared; her sapphire eyes lost its playful gleam and were looking intently at the Tobi.

“Good job boy,” the assassin said, “but the girl and the book will have to come with me.”

Paris grabbed out his Blood Avarice and lunged forward to the assassin, and attempted to attack him. You stupid idiot, he thought, You are a Assassin, you use stars. In his rush to grab the stars, the assassin hasted away, while forcing Iris to drink a concoction from his potion bottle. She fell limp into his arms.

□соитяоlєd?□

The assassin approached the marble white castle, moving swiftly with Iris in his arms. The moon glared at him from the heavens and the stars were silent. Focusing back on his task, the assassin bolted back and forth, reaching his destination in a short amount of time. The guards at the massive gates instantly recognized him as he lifted his Sonata and immediately allowed him access. He hasted into the castle.

Sitting in a big armchair, Sir Aruan of El Nath reflected back on his life. His days were waning, and he thought it was over 100 years ago, but the dilemma has risen again. Nekiel… Who knew that blasted girl had the courage to defy my orders? he thought angrily. Aruan’s thoughts were interrupted when someone knocked on his door.

“Who is it?” he said with a sigh.

“I have the heir.” It was Dash. Auran opened the grand doors. Dash quickly stepped inside.

“Ah, what a beautiful girl she is,” he whispered, “Just like…”

“Master, I shall retreat.” Dash adjusted his Sonata, bowed respectfully, and left the room.

Iris twitched and woke up with a start. She looked around, confused at her surroundings. A fireplace heated up the room, making it very warm. Iris wiped off some sweat and spotted a person with a cape, the hood over their head. She grabbed out her wand quietly, but it caught the person’s attention.

“Ah, my lady,” a male voice spoke, “You have awakened.”

“Who are you?” she stuttered.

“You look just like your mother,” he said fondly.

Iris covered up with her cape. “What do you want?”

“Flustered,” he said, “I guess it runs through the family, does it not?” He refused to answer her questions.

She started to cast holy arrow on him, but with a wave of his hand, the arrow ceased and disappeared. She gaped in confusion. How does this man have the abilities to control my powers? she wondered.

□маяяіdgє ряороѕаl□

A young man trudged across the great fields of El Nath, searching for a cabin. He was a relative of the King of El Nath, a young nephew, more precisely. This nobleman was known all over town for his handsome looks, yet he is still not married. Many of the villagers wondered: Why is such a handsome young man not yet married? Surely he has attracted some attention.

His eyes sparkled as a cabin appeared into sight. It looked snug, the snow blanketing it. The young man stopped his tracks, wiping away the snow that covered the wooden sign.

Property of Racsan Agnam, it read.

This was the place,the man thought. He gently knocked on the wooden door exactly three times. A shuffling noise sounded within the cabin and footsteps sounds were heard.

“Who is it?” a gruff voice questioned.

“It is I, Auran, nephew of the King,” the young man said, “I have an offer for you.”

“Very well.” An old man appeared at the door. “Please come in, Sir Auran.” He bowed respectfully and led Auran into his living room.

“Try not to make a sound,” Agnam said softly, “My daughter is asleep. Such a fine lady, she is.”

“Mr. Agnam,” Auran said, “Your daughter is the reason I have come over here.”

“Oh dear,” he gasped, “Is she in any trouble with the law? My daughter would never –“

“Rest at ease, Mr. Agnam.” Auran waved a hand to silence him. “How old is your daughter, may I ask?”

“Ah, my son,” he said, “She is turning fifteen this fall.” The aging man raised an eyebrow at him

“Hm…” Auran scratched his stubble.

“What do you want, Auran?” The old man gave a sigh.

“Will you accept my offer for marriage?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Agnam said, “This is my daughter’s decision. My daughter is fifteen and you seem to be at least twenty in age already, my nobleman. Wouldn’t you like to seek another bride closer to your age, might I ask?”

“I will not answer your questions, old man,” Auran whispered dangerously. He produced a bag worth one million mesos. “I will give you one million mesos in exchange for your daughter’s love.”

“Auran, I cannot answer you right now,” Agnam said tiredly, “Perhaps in a few days.”

“Very well, I shall send a messenger.” With a swoosh of his cape, Auran disappeared into the field, leaving old Agnam in a predicament.

□ғаlliиg Ъєніиd□

Paris tried to chase the assassin, following his footsteps, but he got away, becoming a little dot in his vision. Curse him with his maxed haste, he thought. Catching his breath, Paris sat there in the pure white field. So peaceful here, he thought, the coldness numbing his senses. His thoughts wandered, and his conscious grew weaker and weaker…