[Octavia’s POV]
The morning light shines into my dorm room as I step inside. The familiar space feels different now, charged with an electric energy that mirrors the buzzing anticipation in my veins.
My eyes are imdiately drawn to the far wall, where a sprawling web of red strings crisscrosses the surface, connecting a myriad of sketches and notes. At the center, a ticulously detailed drawing of Elwin smiles back at , his eyes rendered with such care they seem to sparkle even on paper.
Branching out from his image are ten other faces. Rolo’s fierce gaze glares out from one corner while Saria’s gentle smile lurks in another. I’ve even included a sketch of General Sufri, her steely eyes seeming to challenge from the page.
I trace a finger along one of the red strings, feeling its taut resistance. Each represents a connection, a potential path soone might use to try and steal my Elwin away. So are thick and ominous, while others are re whispers of thread, barely visible in the morning light.
“Soon,” I whisper to the empty room, my voice filled with equal parts longing and determination. “Soon, I won’t have to worry about any of you.”
I begin to pace, my footsteps echoing in the quiet space. My mind races with plans and possibilities, each more thrilling than the last.
The thought of moving into Elwin’s quarters tonight fills with giddy excitent I can barely contain.
“No more separation,” I murmur, my lips curving into a smile that would unnerve anyone who saw it. “No more chances for these vultures to swoop in and take what’s mine.”
I pause in my pacing, my gaze drawn back to the intricate web on the wall. The red strings seem to pulse with an otherworldly energy, as if alive with the very essence of my obsession.
“How... How is everything so out of order?”
‘I already know it’s my fault, but still.’
mories flood my mind, vivid and disjointed. I recall binge-watching the ani adaptation of “How to Capture the Prince!” all 48 episodes of the first two seasons in a fevered haze. The plot unfolds in my mind’s eye, a tangled web of romance and murder.
In the ani, Elwin dates nine different people over the course of the story, with a total of ten targets vying for his affection. But the sequence of events in reality is... wrong. All wrong.
“Saria,” I mutter, my finger hovering over her sketch. “You were supposed to be first. You and Elwin were ant to start dating after the Santa incident. And I... I should have killed you by now.”
But Saria still lives, her gentle smile mocking from the paper.
My gaze drifts to another face on the wall, Verna Sunadow, AKA Lady Shadow. “The second girlfriend,” I whisper. “They haven’t t yet.”
I breathe deeply, my eyes roaming over the intricate web of connections before . “Just because Elwin has , these other crows won’t stop trying to peck him away,” I whisper, my voice laced with venom. “The Warbringer seed is too strong, too tempting.”
My fingers trace the red string connecting Elwin to Rolo’s fierce visage. “You,” I hiss, “you’re the biggest threat right now. The third girlfriend.” I can almost feel the heat of Rolo’s crimson eyes boring into from the sketch.
My gaze shifts to General Sufri’s stern portrait. “And you,” I snarl, “you’ve had a taste of what’s mine.” The mory of Elwin’s confession about Sufri makes my blood boil. “I need to hunt you down as soon as possible.”
I take a step back, drinking in the entirety of my obsession made manifest on this wall. Each face, each string, represents a potential threat to my happiness, to my future with Elwin. The sheer number of rivals is daunting, but I feel a thrill of excitent course through at the challenge.
“I’ll start eliminating my rivals imdiately,” I declare to the empty room, my voice filled with dark determination. “One by one, they’ll fall. And Elwin... Elwin will be mine alone.”
A wicked smile spreads across my face as I begin to formulate my plans. I stride into my bedroom, a whirlwind of excitent and determination.
I walk into my my bedroom where another intricate web of red strings and sketches mirrors the one in the main room. But this one is different, more ominous sohow. Ten new faces stare back at , their eyes seeming to follow my movents as I cross the room.
“God, I truly hope seasons 3 and 4 aren’t canon,” I mutter, my voice laced with frustration. “I really don’t want to deal with the other ten rivals.”
I stare into the eyes of the arrogant Kitsune who leads this pack.
“As if the first ten weren’t enough,” I grumble, turning away from the wall with a huff.
I begin to gather my belongings, tossing clothes and personal items into a large trunk with perhaps more force than necessary. Each thud of an object hitting the bottom of the trunk punctuates my racing thoughts.
“I won’t let it happen,” I declare to the empty room, my voice filled with fierce determination. “Elwin is mine, and I’ll make sure it stays that way.”
As I’m stuffing the last of my belongings into the trunk, a commotion outside my window catches my attention. Angry voices carry on the morning breeze, shattering the peaceful dawn.
“What the hell?” I mutter, rushing to peer out the window.
In the distance, near the edge of the training grounds, I see two figures locked in a heated argunt. Even from afar, I recognize Rowena’s jet-black hair and Rolo’s muscular fra. Rowena’s normally calm deanor is gone, replaced by wild gesticulation as she screams at Rolo.
“Huh, what’s this about?” I wonder aloud, pressing closer to the glass for a better view.
Suddenly, Rowena’s hand flies to the hilt of her sword. In one fluid motion, she unsheaths the blade, its polished surface glinting in the early morning light. With a resounding thud that echoes across the grounds, she drives the sword into the earth at her feet.
My breath catches in my throat as I watch Rowena’s arm extend, her finger pointing accusingly at Rolo. Even from this distance, I can see the fury etched into every line of her body.
“Fuck,” I breathe, realization dawning. “She’s challenging her to a duel.”
The implications are clear. Rowena, the weakest of Elwin’s sisters, is no match for Rolo’s raw strength and battle experience. This isn’t just a duel. It’s practically a death sentence.
“Fuck!” I swear again, louder this ti. Without a second thought, I turn from the window and bolt for the door. My heart pounds in my chest as I race down the hallway, taking the stairs two at a ti.
“Please,” I mutter under my breath as I burst out of the dormitory into the crisp morning air. “Please don’t let them fight to the death.”
I sprint across the campus, my feet pounding against the cobblestones. The world blurs around as I focus solely on reaching the two won before it’s too late. In the distance, I can see a crowd gather, drawn by the promise of conflict.
As I draw closer, the murmur of the gathering crowd grows louder, punctuated by gasps of shock and horror. My heart pounds in my ears as I push through the throng of onlookers, elbowing my way to the front.
The scene that greets is more grueso than I could have imagined. Rowena lies crumpled on the ground, her once pristine white and blue uniform now stained a deep crimson. A jagged gash runs across her abdon, the wound so deep and severe that her innards spill out onto the grass in a grotesque display. The tallic scent of blood hangs heavy in the air, mixing with the earthy sll of the freshly churned soil.
Rowena’s face is a mask of agony, her skin ashen and clammy. Her chest heaves with labored breaths, each one seeming to cause her imnse pain.
A bloodcurdling scream tears from my throat. “No!” The word echoes across the training grounds, silencing the murmurs of the crowd.
My mind races, a cold dread settling in the pit of my stomach. This isn’t just a tragedy. It’s a catastrophe that could shatter the very foundations of my carefully laid plans. Elwin... oh god, Elwin. The thought of how this will affect him makes feel physically ill. This might break him.
Rolo stands a few feet away, her muscular fra trembling visibly. The sword in her hand drips with Rowena’s blood, the crimson liquid stark against the polished steel. Her face is a picture of horror and regret, her eyes wide and unfocused as if she can’t quite believe what she’s done.
“I... I didn’t an...” Rolo stamrs, her voice cracking with emotion. She turns to address the stunned crowd, her words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “She challenged my family’s honor! I didn’t want... I didn’t an to kill her!”
I spring into action, my heart pounding in my ears. “Healer!” I scream, my voice raw with desperation. “We need a healer now!”
I rush to Rowena’s side, dropping to my knees beside her broken body. The grass is slick with her blood, staining my clothes as I lean over her. Her skin is pale as moonlight, a stark contrast to the vivid red pooling around her.
“Rowena,” I whisper, gently touching her face. Her skin is cool to the touch, her eyes closed as if in peaceful slumber. But there’s nothing peaceful about this scene.
I press my fingers to her neck, searching frantically for a pulse. There’s a faint flutter beneath my fingertips, so weak I can barely detect it. “She’s still alive!” I shout, hope and fear warring in my chest. “Where’s the damn healer?”
The crowd murmurs, shifting uneasily. No one steps forward. No one offers help. My desperation mounts with each passing second.
“Fuck!” I scream, the word tearing from my throat. “Soone do sothing!”
I turn back to Rowena, watching in horror as the last traces of life slip away. The feeble pulse beneath my fingers slows, falters, and then... stops.
“No, no, no,” I mutter, pressing harder against her neck, willing the pulse to return. But there’s nothing. Just stillness.
I sit back on my heels, the full weight of what’s happened crashing over . “She’s dead,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. Then louder, “She’s dead! She has no pulse!”
I stand up slowly, my legs shaky beneath . My gaze falls on Rolo, still clutching the bloody sword. Her face is a mask of shock and regret, tears streaming down her cheeks.
But I can’t bring myself to care about Rolo’s pain right now. All I can think about is Elwin. My Elwin, who’s just lost his sister. Who’s about to have his world shattered.
A commotion erupts at the edge of the crowd. I see two familiar figures pushing their way through, Lydia and Elwin. My heart clenches painfully in my chest as I watch them approach, still blissfully unaware of the tragedy that awaits them.
Elwin’s eyes find mine across the sea of onlookers. His face lights up with a smile that makes my knees weak, even in this horrific mont. He raises a hand in greeting, his voice carrying over the hushed murmurs of the crowd.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
Reviews
All reviews (0)