Chapter twenty-nine
Who is the traitor
Morris blinked and continued, "But, you know, Odin himself had locked it away, worried that soone might catch on to this whole world. The Norse Gods and the Greek Gods have been enemies forever, which is why Odin tries to keep the tenth world under wraps," Morris said with a shrug. He took a bite of his salad and sipped his champagne, looking a little lost in his thoughts.
“Grekheim can drop so serious wisdom about what’s coming our way, help us figure things out, and spill so secrets. But here’s the catch: it only opens up when you've got your enemy’s blood on your hands. That’s when it really starts to share the goods.”
"Hey, I've gotta get sothing off my chest, but I just can't—" He started, sounding super stressed. But before he could finish, Emily walked over, gave him a light elbow in the shoulder, and tossed sothing into his lap. He picked it up and let out a long sigh, like he was weighing the world on his shoulders.
“The daily newspaper.”
"Seriously, how do those newspapers even make it out here in the middle of nowhere?" Elizabeth asked, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. “We gotta stay connected with the outside world. The Astral Soulblender’s always sending us ssages and newspapers to keep us in touch with the Ethereal House. Ever since she got captured, we haven’t heard a peep until today,” Morris replied.
Elizabeth gave a little nod, then grabbed the newspaper and started flipping through it.
The Election Campaign of Alfheim
The Election Campaign takes place in the Grand Hall of the Ethereal House. And subsequently, the Mystic Masquerade will celebrate the winners.
Here are the introductions of the four candidates:
1. Lucius McTavish:
A highly talented forr Head Official who possesses the ability to summon creatures from the depths and communicate with them.
While he demonstrates ingenuity, questions remain regarding whether he allows space for love and unwavering loyalty.
2. Morris Morgan:
A courageous soulblender who has devoted his entire heart to the Fairy Lord.
He defeated a monster that was ravaging Alfheim, and after extensive investigation, he is considered the most likely candidate to be elected.
3. Narcissus Teresa:
A forr Top Official capable of utilizing her ingenious mind with subtlety.
However, she has been manipulative and cunning toward others. Furthermore, she is arguably the most hypocritical person I have ever encountered. Her appearance is gentle, but her true nature may be riddled with deception and scam.
4. Datura Jasmine:
An accomplished and sophisticated celebrity with remarkable ingenuity.
Tough and resilient, she is. She possesses knowledge of occult and arcane runes. She advocates for equal treatnt of all individuals and aims to eliminate the privileges enjoyed by soulblenders.
Editor: Datura Jasmine.
"Of course, she is the editor. She’s surely going to make a splash—about how tough she is." Muttered Elizabeth, thinking about how Datura had done to Veronica, that thought made her feel sick in the stomach.
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“Yuck, just look at how ruthlessly it tears into poor Teresa!” Morris spat, his voice tinged with disgust as he flicked through the pages of Datura's rciless newspaper.
The headline lood large, bold lettering proclaiming its harsh judgnts, the ink almost dripping with disdain.
Elizabeth, seated not far from him, imrsed herself in the glossy presentation of the paper. Her gaze darted over the striking photographs tucked between the articles, each image a snapshot of intrigue and intensity.
“So, you vanquished a monster?” she inquired, her tone a blend of astonishnt and admiration, as her eyebrows arched in surprise.
“Er—” Morris responded, his expression caught sowhere between mild embarrassnt and unmistakable delight.
“Yeah, I suppose so,” he confessed, a sheepish grin breaking across his face as he absorbed her admiration.
Bending down, Elizabeth savored the last drop from the slender champagne flute, the crisp, bubbly liquid dancing on her tongue, while instinctively turning her gaze from the prefect, feeling the warmth of a blush creep up her cheeks. The atmosphere around them tinged with both excitent and unspoken tension.
"Alright, Elizabeth, I've got to be honest and say that—”Morris started, his voice laced with mischief, but before he could unveil whatever secret lingered on his lips, a loud, jarring clank reverberated from outside the Great Hall, a sound that sliced through the conversation like a sword.
With a hasty flourish, Penelope swung open the door and marched in. She tossed the newspaper onto the table, the heavy thud echoing in the stillness, her voice trembling with disbelief as she asked, “Why in the world aren’t my na among the candidates endorsed by the Top Official?”
Datura, leaning back and fixing her intense gaze on Penelope, shook her head slightly. “Babe,” she began, her tone steady yet gentle, “you really don’t need a title or a shiny badge to validate your worth. Your work is far too noble for any trivial designation. You’re not so puppet dancing to a tune; you’re the one orchestrating the whole symphony.” Penelope sighed, her frustration palpable.
“But don’t you see? The world needs saving, and I want to dive in headfirst as soon as you get elected, which, let’s face it, is inevitable since I’m the one who’ll decide who gets the nod in the end, right?”
“Co on over here,” Datura beckoned, her voice filled with a mix of mischief and intrigue.
Jerked from their mont, Elizabeth peered over the bustling crowd, her keen eyes tracing the frenzied movents of the soublenders, brightly-clad students jostling each other as they dashed towards the exit, their expressions painted with alarm, as though fleeing from an unseen terror.
Curiosity piqued, Elizabeth joined the surge of students, flowing out into the clearing where the grand Yggdrasil Fountain stood, a majestic centerpiece with water cascading gracefully from its branches like nature’s own chandelier.
Suspended above the fountain, hovering a few feet above the glimring water, was Veronica.
Her face was a portrait of sheer panic; her eyes darting wildly as she raked her fingers anxiously through her hair, her breath hitching in her throat. Gripping the microphone tightly, she prepared to announce the urgency of the unfolding chaos, her voice trembling but resolute as it pierced the air.
"All of the adventures and missions were cancelled before the Election Campaign, and no one was allowed to step out of their house without permission. I'm afraid soone was trying to get rid of us once and for all. There's a spy who lurked between us." Veronica announced, waving an invitation in her hand. Her voice was urgent and agitated.
"Beware, for you, all of you, might be under her surveillance. I want any of you who get invited to the Ethereal House to be extra careful now; anyone who didn't wish to be killed in a painful way shall be vigilant and watchful. I wish any one of you who takes part in the election good luck."
Without warning, the earth beneath them trembled fiercely, a chaotic rumble echoing through the air. Gritty sand erupted explosively from deep within the ground, swirling like a tempest as fissures spider-webbed across the surface beneath their feet.
A thick, acrid smoke billowed upwards, obscuring their surroundings and enveloping them in a suffocating haze. Elizabeth struggled to lift her heavy head, every movent feeling like a monuntal effort as the murky mist clouded her vision like a dark veil.
Just as abruptly as it had begun, an eerie silence descended, swallowing the sounds of chaos whole. When Elizabeth finally regained her senses and her sight cleared, she found herself flat on her bed, the familiar surroundings of her room coming into focus as if she had awakened from a deep, unsettling dream. The remnants of the upheaval lingered in her mind, leaving her disoriented and questioning the reality of what had just occurred.
She rubbed her eyes and sank back into the bed, not in any hurry to hoist herself upright.
That night, as Elizabeth lay in bed, her thoughts began to drift like loosened leaves in the wind. A peculiar unease nagged at her as the thought of Morris popped into her mind. Sothing about him didn’t feel right, though, he was kind and friendly in all, always engaging in cheerful conversation, yet there was an unsettling weight to his presence that made her feel small and powerless.
Then there was Grekheim; she felt a strange connection, an instinctive pull suggesting that she might be the key to unsealing its door. The re thought sent a surge of adrenaline rushing through her body, quickening her heartbeat and igniting a sense of anticipation within her.
Elizabeth reached for her pocket and grabbed the golden pocket watch she'd brought back from her dream.
She clicked it open, and inside, golden words appeared,
'When you discover the truth behind your heritage, when you can unseal your true self.’
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