"Saia!" Pestle growls, eyes glaring at the little girl as she attempts to sneak off again.
"Awww." Saia moaned. "But… just look at it."
She squealed with unrepentant joy as she darted around, eyes wide with wonder.
Pestle snatched the collar of her coat and jerked her back. "Stay in line!" he snapped.
The group slowly and cautiously move through the half-buried ruins of the ancient, old-world structure. Bent steel jutted from the crumbling concrete walls, like the bones of a long buried behemoth.
The air was damp and heavy. Strange, sleek machines sat coated in millennia of dust. Their alien designs eliciting perplexed stares from some members of the group as they move through the facility fading in and out of shadows.
"I think this was a solar research laboratory." Saia whispered, her voice cracking with excited reverence. "I've read about these in the Terminal at home. They figured out how to capture sunlight on magical sheets of glass and turn it lightening!"
Pestle scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Doesn't look like it helped them much."
They trudged over skeletons, brittle and half buried beneath collapsed rooms and fallen equipment. Pestle, ever cautious, scans every corner and ceiling, flicking his eyes about with every step.
Arienne quietly basks in the haunted beauty surrounding her, trickles of sunlight gleaming off the remnants of a civilization half-forgotten.
Lukal furiously scribbles notes and drawings, recording every detail of his observations, the sight of the ancient ruins overwhelms him, but he refuses to shirk his duties of logging down their experiences.
They enter a large chamber, dimly lit with the faint green glow of fading lights that dot the walls and ceilings. Wires and pipes hung from the ceiling like rotting vines and broken branches. A sleek, black device rose from the floor in the room's center, pulsing with soft green light and humming a faint, trilling tune.
"Dancing dragons!" Saia gasps. "Look Pestle! A Terminal! And it even has power."
She bounces up and down next to her brother, clutching her crimson cheeks as she stares up at him with big, blue eyes that seem to beg for permission.
"Don't even think about it!" Pestle sneered as he glared at her.
"I wasn't going to!" she snaps in response.
Arienne walks up to the device, carefully wiping dust from its surface as she inspects it closely.
"What does it do?" she asks, turning to Saia.
"It's like a library made of light!" Saia explains as she runs up to Arienne, grabbing on her coat. "There's thousands of books in there. So much knowledge. So many memories. So much we can learn."
Arienne poked at the gleaming construction, rubbing her fingers through embossed grooves of what looks like some sort of input port.
"How do we get the books out?" Arienne asks, bending down to inspect beneath the device.
"Well…" Saia started, shifting her gaze to check for Pestle, who was preoccupied, rummaging through crumbling containers. "It didn't work when Papa or Pestle did it… but if I put my hand on the—"
Her finger brushes the Terminal. It pulsed.
A shriek of energy lit up the room in blues and greens. Ancient text and symbols cascade impossibly fast down flickering screens across the walls. The trills and buzzing of hidden machines sing a symphony of haunting hums that reverberate through hidden parts of the facility.
Saia pupils dilated as she froze, fingers still firmly fixed to the Terminal. Then, she collapsed, her body jerked and with shrill gasp, she went quiet as her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
"Saia!" Pestle screamed, leaping across the room to catch her head before it hit the floor. She spams a last time, and her body falls limp.
"Saia! No… please!" he cries as he lifts her limp body off the ground.
"She still breathes." Arienne assures, checking her pulse as she rests her hand on the girl's chest. "We will figure this out, Pestle. Come, let's get her back to The Hog."
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A world away, sunlight drifted through a canopy of crystalline leaves that shimmer with undulating colors. Birds sang songs like symphonies and the flowers shared whisperings with the trees.
Aribelle sat on a dried out stump on the edge of mossy clearing, carefully and diligently sketching the image of a tree she had never seen or heard of. Its leaves like colored glass, bending light as it flows through them, and its bark like polished stone.
She hums softly as she draws, until a pixie tugs at her braids.
"Shoo." she snaps as she flicks the end of her quill at it.
It zips through the air, cackling with delight as it disappears into a bush.
Then a fairy drops a shiny stone on her notebook, besmirching its pages.
"How rude." she frowns. "Has Lily taught you no manners?"
More fairies appear, buzzing through the air around her, tugging at her hair and clothes.
"Honestly!" she groans, huffing with exasperation.
"I see you've made some new friends." Orwellin's voice came, echoed softly by the trees.
"They're impossible!" she scowled, tossing her note book into the long grass beside her. "I really should talk to Lily about their behaviour."
"They like you." Orwellin chuckles as he steps into the clearing. "They're a playful lot, but they only tease people they like. And it seems they are quite taken with you, Lady Lindbergh."
Aribelle blushes, rises slowly to her feet, dusting off her robes.
"What brings you?"
"A light stroll. Perhaps and invitation to lunch. And news… regarding our investigation."
They walked together, arm-in-arm, wandering beneath creaking trees that whispered ancient tales of forbidden love between their branches.
They followed winding trails through wind-swept meadows, butterflies dancing between them and flowers blooming as Aribelle drew near.
Forging through hidden paths, Orwellin led her to a small lake deep in the forest. Glowing lifeforms slithered through its crystal clear waters that were adorned with blossoming orbs of light and giant, floating lily pads.
He stepped onto the water's surface and turned to Aribelle.
"Come." he smiled.
"Walk on water? That might be easy for magical princes..."
He offered her a gloved hand and a reassuring nod.
With a deep breath, she swallows her fears and sets a foot onto the water. It greets her heels with a gentle ripple, holding her weight firmly.
They cross the lake as it's magical residents watch on. Smiling frogs smile wider as they pass, and glowing fish swirl beneath each footstep.
The path leads them to a small flower garden nested behind a shimmering mist that seemed to swallow them as they entered, inside, the air seemed to fizz with natural magical energies oozing from the blossoming flowers around them.
They reach a table and set of chairs that had been setup between rose bushes that swayed with their every movement.
Orwellin pulls out a chair, and helps Aribelle settle into her seat before gracefully setting himself down into his.
Aribelle watched on with astonished glee as fae servants decked the table with rustic cutlery and strange foods and drinks.
"We found the Magister." Orwellin announces softly while he sips flower infused water from a wooden cup.
Aribelle's heart skips a beat.
"Where?" she asks, eyes wide and quivering with uncertainty.
"The southern border. Transferred by the Guild under suspicious orders. I've dispatched an envoy to retrieve him. But it's about a two week ride. It will take time."
Aribelle sighed and her stiff shoulders softened.
"Thank you." she smiled warmly.
"I'm afraid there's more." He sighed. "Royal commitments obligate me to be in the capital for at least the next eight days. I leave this afternoon."
"Oh…" she muttered as her face fell. "...I see."
"But you won't be alone." he smirked as he sipped from his cup. "I've arranged for your apprentice, Lunara Duskvale to join you here at the Palace. She arrives tomorrow."
Aribelle jolts up. "Truly?!"
He smiles softly. "Are you pleased?"
"I'm overjoyed!" she exclaims, slumping back into her seat with a content filled sigh.
"And…" he grins, crossing his legs as he leans back further in his seat. "Your mother will join you both by week's end."
Aribelle gasps and jumps to her feet.
"Orwellin… how?"
"I have my ways." he smirked, drinking deeply from his cup.
They continued their meal, their laughter mingling with the whispering winds, carrying tales of their blossoming love across the forest.
And when ready, they were guided back to the palace by a parade of fairies that flicked and fluttered around them, raining down rainbows of colorful petals wherever they walked.
Later that afternoon, at the Palace gates, the pair stood beneath the shade of a pink-leafed tree, its blossoming flowers seeming to eavesdrop on their goodbyes.
"Please stay safe." she whispered.
"I will." He replied, taking her hand into his.
"May The Spirits always watch over you, my Prince."
"And you, m'lady." he replies, bringing her hand to his lips.
Their flesh met with a kiss. He lingers. No rush, no routine. Deliberate and meaningful.
He releases her hand slowly.
"I will miss you, Aribelle." he whispered, coy eyes staring at her intently.
Her heart jumps, choking her throat, as she struggles to find words.
He smiles, turns and walks away. His golden royal cloak billows behind him as he disappears into the shimmering, enchanted mist that protects the magical forests of Nubnoria.