[London, midnight]
In the corner of the street, a bookstore was preparing to close in the middle of the night. The bookstore held a et and greet session with a book author, and the line was quite long, so it took a lot of ti until all the fans that had co went ho.
The bookstore owner was sweeping the bookstore floor, while the author of the book was tidying her things, putting it in her bag.
“Quite a day isn’t it Ms. Colins?” the bookstore owner asked happily.
“Well, tiring would be the right choice.” the 20-ish year old female writer comnted with a chuckle. Colins quickly finished her packing and walked up to the bookstore owner. “Here, let help you.”
“Oh no, don’t worry about it Ms. Colins, you helping attract custors are already helpful to , you should go ho, as you said, this event is quite tiring.” said the bookstore owner quickly rejected Colins’s good intention. “But good lord, I always thought that kids these days don’t read anymore, but you have a lot of loyal fans Ms. Colins.”
Colins chuckled as she minded the bookstore owner’s rejection. “Perhaps my writing just has that effect on people.”
“Well, your books are really good, so maybe it is.” The bookstore owner agreed at the thought.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and it made the two individuals turn towards the front door. There, an asian woman entered the bookstore, looking a bit tired.
“I’m a bit late aren’t I?” said the woman, turning to the bookstore owner and Colins.
“What do you think?” Colins scoffed. “It’s midnight, Sersi.”
“Sorry… sothing ca up in the museum.” Sersi sighed as she looked at the clock, it’s exactly 12 AM. Sersi then walked towards the bookstore owner and extended her hand. “You must be Mr. Brooks. Thank you for letting Robin use your bookstore.”
“The pleasure’s all mine… but… you are?” the bookstore owner is quite confused at the sudden appearance of this woman.
“Oh, sorry, I’m Sersi. Miss Robin Colins’s cousin.” she said with a smile. “Also, her part-ti manager…”
“Oh, you’re the one who contacted .” the bookstore owner finally realised who she is. “You must be a busy woman huh…”
“Well not really,” said Sersi in embarrassnt. “I worked at the London museum as a professor, so I have a lot of free ti, though it seems that that free ti is not today.”
“Oh, an intellectual I see.” the bookstore owner smiled. “Well, I shan’t stop you from going ho now, don’t worry, I can finish cleaning the bookstore on my own.”
—
Sersi and ‘Robin’ were walking through the streets of London quietly. The night was quite peaceful, the cool air was calming, and the empty area made them feel sowhat safe. Robin noticed the cool and nice atmosphere, so she took out her notebook and started writing.
“What are you doing?” Sersi asked curiously, peeking at Robin’s notebook.
“It’s a lovely night.” she humd. “I think I’ll sit sowhere in the park, you can go ho first.”
“Sprite, it’s midnight, soone might jump you or sothing.” said Sersi in worry.
Robin, whose real na is Sprite, scoffed. “Jump ? Seriously?”
“What? I am worried.” said Sersi, shrugging.
“You think that even though I’m semi-human now, I’m powerless?” Sprite raised her eyebrow. “I still have my powers, geez.”
“Alright fine, but still, why are you going to the park anyway?”
“Gathering ideas.” Sprite humd. “Been stuck lately. I have this interesting idea about a fantasy world.”
“Fantasy? Again?” Sersi remained doubtful.
“Well my previous books are based on history and what we saw when we travelled… but this… this will be an entirely new world.”
“Oh, you’re following Tolkien now?”
“Perhaps.” Sprite shrugged. “Though, it’s about a man that was born in a desert tribe, seeking revenge, vowing to destroy the empires that once tried to control the desert his tribe lived in.”
“Let guess, his tribe was wiped out by those empires.”
“Well yes… but instead of outright conquest, the protagonist will insert himself into their societies, slowly corrupting the system and making those empires destroy themselves. Oh, and the protagonist has this ancient battle-knowledge called sword-singing.”
“Sword singing?” Sersi chuckled in amusent. “What kind of na is that?”
“Well, I was thinking that the art is essentially reciting poems while attacking with a sword, giving them powerful magic… it’s like when the Arabs used to shout poems at their enemies in hopes of ending the battle early.”
“Okay… you’re getting ahead of yourself.”
Both of them continued on walking, but Sprite didn’t stop speaking. “I think it’s a great idea, I an, it’ll be like dune I guess, desert warriors fighting, but also a lot of politics… it could be a hit. I’m thinking of calling the first book “Poems of the Desert”, what do you think?”
But then, no answer.
“Sersi?” Sprite asked, but when she looked at where Sersi used to be, she’s gone. In fact, Sprite is in an entirely different place. The place looked… majestic, like a castle. She was in an open corridor, with a view like any other. She looked at the scenery in front of her, and saw a city with glistening gold gilded in every building there is.
“What the hell…” Sprite’s eyes widened at the sight. Then, Sprite could feel a sharp object touching her neck.
“You have been caught trespassing at The Royal Palace of Valaskjalf, residence of the All-father.” said the cold voice behind her. “State your na and purpose before I cut your head off, stranger.”
Sprite could only frown at the declaration, before slowly turning around to see who has threaten her.
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