SalivaSpittingWorm

I'm sorry, everyone. Originally, I really only wanted to post once in a while and dedicate myself to my Villaines story, but I have one enthusiast here that I was sorry to torture him for so long.  I'll be working on my first story tomorrow and I won't be persuaded anymore! Throw a stone at those who are blameless... :P

First floor in the underground of the palace.

The long corridor was lined on each side with cells within which impenetrable darkness slowly rolled over, making it impossible to see the contents of the cells. Every few meters, lanterns hung on the walls, containing a flickering blue flame, so faint that it seemed a slight gust of wind could extinguish it.

The moment the First Master shattered his stone prison, the flames in the lanterns grew stronger, illuminating the silent prison corridor. Gradually, the light caressed the statue of a very tall man in a suit and a tall top hat, frozen mid-stride. His raised hand gripped his walking cane horizontally, as if fending off something with it.

The blue light gradually bathed the statue, and suddenly, a crack appeared in the statue's shoulder.

Hisssssss...

The once-silent underground was abruptly disrupted by a sound resembling escaping steam. Black smoke billowed from the crack in the statue's arm, and the figure began to shake slightly.

The crack rapidly widened, the sound of cracking drowning out the hissing steam.

Booom!

The stone statue exploded into a cloud of rubble and stone dust, immediately replaced by an angry, formless entity made of shadows, with many eyes and teeth.

"ROOOAAAAAAARRRR!!!!!" A multi-voiced roar emanated from the many mouths of the monster. Dozens of bloody, lidless eyes twisted and stared in all directions as the shadowy form undulated wildly. The frenzied dance of shadows gradually subsided as the monster realized there was no one and nothing around to tear apart. Eventually, the monster became still for a moment, before its form began to undulate again. One by one, the mouths and eyes closed and disappeared, leaving only a shadowy body that slowly began to stretch, take shape, and form.

First, it extended to a height of two meters. Then arms emerged from its sides, hands took shape, and a head formed. In moments, the monster assumed a humanoid appearance, its edges smoothing out, its body replicating the fabric, a top hat sprouting from its head, and a walking stick emerging from its palm. The monster now closely resembled the original appearance of the statue it had destroyed.

The two-meter-tall man raised his hand and adjusted his bow tie before his fingers gently brushed the edge of his top hat. His suit, a dark black, was neatly pressed and accentuated by a white shirt and luxurious cufflinks. The long jacket billowed slightly behind him as if ablaze with black fire.

From a distance, anyone might have taken him for a refined gentleman, until closer inspection revealed his skin, as dark and impenetrable as a shadow. His features remained obscured, mere suggestions, defying confirmation. Raising his head, the man tossed his walking stick into the air, catching it again as he stepped forward.

"My, my... that did catch me by surprise..." The man murmured in a deep voice, making his way toward the exit of the underground. The silent corridor was suddenly disrupted by the sound of footsteps and soft whistling.

Captain Marik Voss knelt before the throne, an eerie, laughing statue at its center. The sound made him shudder, and he felt his bones tingling. He instinctively cast his eyes down, unable to look into the blazing eyes of this terrifying presence.

He wished things had gone differently, carrying a heavy burden of regret. He wished the storm had never driven them into the Border Mist, that they had never landed at this silent city, that he had never brought his daughter here—so many regrets.

Shuddering, he watched the polished obsidian floor, which vaguely reflected his appearance. The curse had already advanced considerably, but he had the impression that it was no longer progressing nor receding. He understood that his fate and the fate of his people were now in the hands of this being. He waited, but the mysterious ruler said nothing; nervous sweat had long since soaked his shirt, and he hesitated to speak again.

"R-Ruler?" he said cautiously, swallowing hard as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

Meanwhile, Caila stared at the man in confusion, taking in his half-petrified form. 'What happened to you?' she wondered. What kind of power could do something like that? Her eyes moved around the hall, where other statues were scattered—many of them crawling on the floor in silent supplication. Could it be that all of these were once living, breathing beings as well? Had they come here hoping to be saved?

Caila didn't remember any of them. When she first opened her eyes, they were already here. But Caila didn't know what to do. She understood that this man had also come here to ask for rescue, but what could she do? She was just a statue, unable to save herself, let alone help anyone else.

'What do you want from me? Look at me. I can't even lift a finger! I can't even scratch my nose... if I could feel my nose,' she spoke grimly to the man in her head.

Caila looked at the man with pity, but for some reason, he didn't say anything else. 'Hmm... don't worry, my friend! We'll definitely think of something!' she tried to encourage him, but still received no response.

Caila momentarily worried that his petrification might have advanced too far, not realizing that she hadn't actually said anything out loud. Caila had grown so accustomed to being a statue and conversing with herself in her mind that even when her mouth was free, she forgot to use it.

Marik "..."

Caila "..."

No one was speaking, and Caila was becoming uncomfortable.

'Okay, why aren't you saying anything? Friend, what's your name? How was the situation outside? Where were we? Did you have any idea why there were so many statues here? You talked about the curse, you came here, so do you think there's a source?' She asked, looking expectantly at the man who, for some reason, just bowed his head again and didn't answer.

Caila sighed inwardly. 'Don't you think that's a little rude? I'm asking you a question.'

After another moment of silence, the corner of Caila's lips twitched in irritation, but she still didn't remember the fact that he had been talking in his head the whole time.

"Whistling~"

Suddenly, they both heard the echo of someone whistling melodiously. Marik turned his head in the direction he felt the sound was coming from. The throne room had a main door through which he had come in, leading out to the street. Additionally, the throne room had three smaller portal doors on each side, which were no less grand than the main door. They were carved from black and grey stone, with blue-glazed frames.

Each of the doors was decorated differently, and above the portal was an inscription that Marik had difficulty deciphering.

He fixed his gaze on the inscription, but the hall was too dark and he dared not move from his spot to look closer. Instead, he examined the carvings on the door. It certainly didn't evoke pleasant feelings in him. The carvings looked like bars behind which were many eyes. And that's where the whistling sound was coming from.

Caila only tried to look in that direction for a moment before she gave up; she couldn't roll her eyes that far. She could hear the whistling. Was someone else here? What had happened that living people had suddenly started showing up?

"End of the World, End of the World, in this wonderful place, happiness and death will strip you to the bone~" After the whistling stopped, they heard someone humming a song in a deep voice.

"My Liege, my Liege, touch my head and dig your fingers into my meat. It was my honor, my glory that I was worthy~"

A chill ran down Marik's spine at the verses of the chant, and though the voice was pleasant to listen to, he felt like he didn't want to meet the owner of the voice.

Caila listened to the words of the song and had to gasp inwardly. 'What kind of dark and disgusting song is this? Well... at least it rhymes.'

The door swung open, making only the soft sound of stone scraping across the floor. A man, almost as tall as the door itself, stood in the doorway. His head was slightly bowed to allow to pass through. As he entered the throne room, he adjusted his hat and tugged at his cloak before looking around.

Marik glanced at the tall man and saw that his face was dark and almost impenetrable with darkness. He could only see a hint of his nose, mouth, and eyes, yet he could clearly feel the man's gaze sweeping over Marik who hunched over and tried to make himself as small as possible.

The large man ignored him and as well the statues, before his gaze rolled to the statue of the ruler.

"My Liege!" He exclaimed in a strong voice that reflected joy. He strode briskly toward the throne.

Caila heard someone enter but still couldn't see who it was. 'Who?' She asked.

Suddenly, a tall man in a nice suit and top hat appeared in her field of vision. He looked very elegant and sophisticated, but his whole face was hidden in shadow, so she couldn't make out his facial features. Caila was interested but not overly concerned. After all, she had been a statue for who knows how long, and the only ones keeping her company were herself and other silent statues. Time had granted her some insights. The appearance of anyone didn't matter to her.

Without hesitation, the tall man knelt on one knee before her and the throne, placed his hand with fingers spread wide over his heart, and bowed to her.

"My Liege! I, your faithful Hellcage, have awakened and am ready to serve you again!" Said the man named Hellcage dramatically.

Caila glared at him. 'Um... Thank you? Wait, can your name really be Hellcage? Can that be a name too?'

Hellcage straightened up again after that statement and stepped closer to Caila, lowering himself to look into the shadows of the cloak.

"My Liege, I'll try to get you out," he said, reaching a gloved hand up to her face.

'What, hey! Don't touch my face!' Caila complained as she felt his hand move around the crack of her mouth and touch her lips. She couldn't see it, but his fingers melted into thin tendrils of black mist that tried to find a crevice in the stone. After a moment, they turned into fingers again, and Hellcage pulled his hand away.

"My Liege, I'm afraid I can't do it. This servant of yours has failed miserably!" He sank to his knees before her once again and put his head to her hand, which rested on the back of the throne.

Caila turned her eyes towards him. 'Never mind... You don't have to be so dramatic about it.'

Hellcage raised his head a moment later, hearing no response from his Liege. "You are so tolerant of me, my Liege! I swear I will do everything in my limited power to restore you to your glory!"

Hellcage straightened again and turned towards the hall, his gaze falling on the kneeling figure of Captain Marik.

"You!" He exclaimed in a strong voice.

Marik flinched but answered immediately. "Yes, sir?"

"You have just sworn loyalty to our most magnificent Liege, have you not? Are there more of you here? Bring them to swear loyalty as well!" ordered Hellcage.

Marik's heart clenched with pain and regret. "More of us came here, but... everyone except me has already completely turned into statues."

Hellcage clicked his tongue in displeasure. "Such incompetence. So troublesome," he commented.

Marik was a little startled to hear the man's displeasure, so he spoke again.

"If they could, I'm sure they would gladly swear loyalty! If their curse could be lifted and they could come back to life, surely they would..."

"Impossible." Hellcage interrupted, his voice calmer now and not as excited and dramatic as when he spoke to or about his Liege.

Marik hunched his back and closed his eyes painfully. "So there's nothing to be done? I can't save them?"

"Fool. Of course, they can be saved," Hellcage said scornfully, disgusted by Marik's ignorance. He glanced briefly at the silent statue of his Liege, and that was all it took to stir his heart with deep feelings. What curse? How could he consider the blessing of their Liege to be some pathetic curse?

He glanced again at the mortal kneeling on the ground. Hellcage knew immediately that he was not a citizen of their city. That meant they had to have come from somewhere, and where there was one person, there were always more. He walked over to the man and grabbed his shoulder before pulling him easily to his feet.

Marik suppressed a groan of pain; the tall Hellcage had an iron grip, and if he added a little more strength, he would surely break Marik's shoulder. Once Marik was firmly on his feet, Hellcage let go.

He raised the hand in which he held the walking cane and pointed it at Marik. "If you want to save your people, you need to get more worshipers who will be blessed by the will of our Liege. For every new worshipper, more will be awakened."

Caila, who had been listening to their entire conversation, was enthralled. 'So this is how it works! After what this man swore to me... I see. That's why her stone shell cracked, and Hellcage appeared.' Caila might have been clueless, but she wasn't stupid; she was starting to understand the situation after this conversation.

Somehow she had possessed the Master of this place. Was Caila gaining power from faith somehow? Or was it to win over the worshippers? Was she some sort of deity? No, it was more about the worshippers. Caila didn't get the impression that the man had any real faith in her.

Marik glanced warily at Hellcage. "So I'm supposed to go back home and get more worshippers?" He hesitated but then thought of his crew. Of his daughter Riza, who was petrified right before his eyes with fear on her face.

Hellcage tapped the head of his staff on Marik's shoulder and nodded approvingly. "That's right, dear adorer. More are needed. Many more."

Those words made Marik feel like he'd just shaken hands with the devil. This man, this Liege of his, were dark entities! He was absolutely certain of it. He wanted to save his crew and his daughter, but should he sell out his homeland to a dark deity?

An idea flashed through Marik's mind. Maybe it wouldn't have to be his home! There are plenty of places that are troubled by sinister beings. The first place he thought of was Peril Harbor.

Peril Harbor was a man-made island created from the many shipwrecks, debris, and other junk that the Endless Sea had washed up. Peril Harbor was a thorn in the eye of every sea state because it was inhabited mainly by troublemakers, lunatics, criminals and pirates.

Marik's heart calmed. Exactly. Marik certainly had no problem sacrificing them to the evil god. "I see. But leaving the island is a problem. The Border Mist surrounds the city, and every attempt to sail away has ended in failure. The fog has always brought us back here," explained Marik, who while he had a plan and hope had gathered back some of his confidence.

Hellcage tilted his head to the side in confusion. "Border Mist? What's that?"

Marik was momentarily stunned. How could he not know the Border Mist? This mysterious and dangerous Mist was one of the most feared things in the world. The Border Mist can appear anytime, anywhere, and one never knows what it will do. The only reason the Border Mist hasn't destroyed, twisted, or made civilized sea cities disappear is that they were under the protection of the gods.

That's why every captain has a priest on his crew who follows one of the recognized gods, providing a certain degree of protection. Also, in the case of a new island being found, this way the priest can build a shrine and bless the island to the god to prevent the island from disappearing. However, such an act is quite difficult, especially if the island is inhabited by hostile beings.

The Border Mist, therefore, became not only a source of sorrow but also of hope, for it not only took but also gave. Many scientists study the Border Mist, and it would not be uncommon for several ships to sail out immediately to study it when the Border Mist appears somewhere nearby.

Marik fell silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts as he attempted to explain the Border Mist.

"It is a mysterious fog that shouldn't have been entered without divine protection, and even then, it was dangerous. Whatever entered it might never emerge, or it could become twisted and deformed, or even give rise to something new. Its behavior was entirely unpredictable."

He recalled a case where a ship had emerged seemingly unscathed from the Border Fog, only to discover later that the ship itself had transformed into a living being. The ship's below deck had turned into a belly filled with entrails, and the original crew had become nothing more than meat puppets. This ship-monster had slaughtered the crews of other vessels on the Endless Sea for months before the truth was uncovered.

Another case involved a crew member from a different ship being replaced by someone or something identical in appearance but fundamentally different in nature. The most unsettling aspect was that the rest of the crew hadn't noticed anything amiss, despite standing right next to him. It had simply happened.

Hellcage tapped the pommel of his walking cane with a long, slender finger, musing, "Hm. That sounds somewhat familiar. Wait here, I'll go take a look," he said, turning towards the statue on the throne.

"My Liege, I'll step away for a moment. I'll be right back," he promised, and with a springy stride, he headed for the front door, leaving the stressed Captain Marik behind.

'Good. Good. Let me know what you find out,' Caila responded mentally, intrigued by this mystical mist herself.

She pondered why it was called the Border Mist, as the man's description didn't quite align. 'Hmm... Border Mist, Border Mist... He mentioned that it made things appear, deform, or disappear. The borders of reality, perhaps? Maybe...' She contemplated the idea and felt satisfied. With living beings now before her, she had plenty to think about.

Caila felt her interest stirring within her. It sounded interesting, strange, and magical. She wanted to see it!

Spending time as a statue was a cleanse for her soul and personality. She had once wept silently, wanting to get out of her prison, wanting to go home, and eventually wishing for at least some company. Then came the effort to just not go crazy, and finally, she ended up in a state of acceptance.

Thanks to the meditation she used to put herself in a sleep-like state, time had passed, and nothing bothered her. But now, out of nowhere, a chance came. If she really became a god, would she be freed?

Her gaze fell on the man in front of her, who was watching Hellcage leave. That interested her very much! She had been human, then she had been a statue. She didn't mind acting like a god now.

Caila's lips quivered before they parted. "Name," she asked aloud. Her voice startled her a little. It sounded like a ghost whispering.

Hellcage descended the wide staircase and walked down the short hall to the open front door before stepping completely out of the palace. Darkness had already fallen, but it didn't matter because despite everything, there was and always would be plenty of light in their city. He paused for a moment as he caught sight of a square filled with the citizens of their city. They were all statues, but that didn't stop the many white smiles of joy from spreading across his face and body.

He looked at them for a moment, the ends of his jacket fluttering as shadows reflected Hellcage's emotions. "Haha. What a sight! Our End of the World and its residents are alive and well!" He raised his hand and removed his top hat, which he held to his chest as a sign of respect.

"Praise our Liege," he said solemnly before putting his hat back on and then looking up at the tallest tower of the palace. His body suddenly slumped to the ground, and a dark, shadowy blur quickly began to crawl up the side of the palace, sliding silently upwards. It stopped at the very top before the form of Hellcage reappeared from the shadows, standing on the thin pinnacle of the tower.

He took in the silent city, which at the moment only seemed alive thanks to the plants untouched by time and the automatic lighting, but there was not a single movement anywhere. Hellcage was happy that their city remained untouched, yet he was a little saddened by the lack of life. In his memories, the city was full of life, stories, and faith.

His gaze flew over the red roofs and chimneys of the houses to the distant harbor where he saw a smaller ship docked before he looked up and saw a white wall of rolling mist. Slowly he turned his head around to see that the fog surrounded their entire city.

"Interesting," Hellcage said. "That doesn't come from our world." He began rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He wanted to explore this so-called Border Mist, but he wasn't able to at the moment. His Liege was too weak, and it was weakening him as well. "But we should be able to pass through," he finally judged the obstacle as manageable to cross before sinking into the shadows again to return.

Marik flinched as he heard a voice that sounded to him like the whispers of the dead. He quickly turned to the statue of Liege and bowed his head. "Marik Voss. Captain of the Fast Wave," he introduced himself and was once again horrified that this unnamed entity was speaking to him.

There was silence again for a moment before the whisper echoed once more. "Do you want to follow me?" Marik swallowed, because he really didn't want to! Marik considered himself a fairly good person, but now he had signed up with this strange ruler and was terrified of what the dark entity might want from him. A living sacrifice? The hearts of babies? The souls of the innocent? Sacrificing a bunch of criminals was perhaps his limit.

But even though he feared what was to come, he wasn't going to go back on his words. If it were just him, things would probably look different, but he had a responsibility to his crew. "Yes, my Liege," he nodded.

Again, a moment of silence. "You are lying," the whisper of the statue judged his answer.

Marik froze before slowly kneeling down, careful not to shatter any of the stone parts of his body. "I'm sorry, my Liege! I was a follower of the Goddess of Sea and Storm. I truly wanted to serve you, but the heart takes time to change!" He tried to excuse his lack of faith.

This time the silence lasted a little longer, and Marik began to sweat again. Would he be burned to ashes now? Would he be judged for his lack of faith and his lies?

"Never mind." The answer finally came.

"Huh?" Marik looked up in confusion at the statue's blazing blue eyes. Never mind?

"People can believe in more than one thing at a time. You can continue to worship your goddess and me simultaneously," Liege continued, and Marik was confused. Really? It seemed strange to him. Was it even allowed to follow more than one god?

Caila had been serious when she said that. Captain Marik had sworn allegiance to her, and that was enough to accomplish the purpose. Apparently, it didn't matter if he was serious about his pledge. But she found it strange. Shouldn't the power she received come from his faith and not just empty words? Caila had a feeling the process was more complicated than it seemed; otherwise, wouldn't she have a handful of people who would easily betray her?

Hellcage returned to the throne room and bowed to Caila before looking at Marik. "It's going to be alright. We're ready to go," he announced.

Marik was startled and looked up at him. "Ready to go... right now?"

Amusement was evident in Hellcage's voice. "Indeed. No need to put things on hold. You want to free your crew as soon as possible, don't you?"

Hellcage turned to Caila. "My Liege, will you do the honors and bless this new admirer of yours?"

Caila was concerned. Bless him? How was she supposed to do that? She looked at Marik. "Will you accept my blessing?" She asked.

Marik looked at the statue hesitantly, but he was already decided. Whatever the blessing would do to him, it would at least save his crew and figure out a way for them to avoid the shackles of this dark being. "Yes, my Liege," he agreed.

Caila was momentarily at a loss. How was she supposed to bless him? She understood her role as a god, but that didn't mean she knew how to act like one yet. She could only try and hope it wouldn't ruin her image. "Captain Marik Voss, I give you my blessing," her whispered voice rang through the hall, and at the same moment, her entire mind was focused on the blessing.

Marik jerked and grabbed his shoulder with his good hand, his shoulder suddenly burning. He turned his head and pulled back the fabric of his shirt to see that a mark had appeared on his stone shoulder. The mark glowed with blue fire as it burned into his skin, and he could see that it looked like a gear circle with a picture of a helmet and sword in the center.

"Oooh. Liege must have a fondness for you. The Dark Knight's mark is quite strong," Hellcage commented on the appearance of the mark.

"Dark Knight?" Marik repeated as he watched the blue flame fade, but the mark remained in place. He also noted with surprise that the petrification of his body began to recede quickly.

Hellcage didn't answer as he looked at the statue; the light in his Liege's eyes wasn't as strong as before. He frowned, worried.

Their Liege had spent much of the remaining power on this blessing, but he understood why it was necessary. There was a need to gain more worshippers, and they could not fail in this task, so Liege gave them as much as she could. Hellcage's heart trembled with touch.

Hellcage grabbed Marik by the shoulder. "Let's go," he announced and bowed to his Liege before forcing Marik to leave the throne room.

"Sleep sweetly about the End of the World, my Liege," Hellgate said in his mind before they left the hall.

Caila, while trying to bless Marik, suddenly felt the back of her head tingle and something leave her. It was a similar feeling to when Marik had sworn to her, but this was stronger. Before she could have any more thoughts, her mind went black, and she fell asleep.

Marik remained slightly shocked and allowed Hellcage to lead him away from the palace and out of it.

With each step, his movements became easier as the petrification receded; he carefully touched the burn mark on his shoulder.

"What does the mark mean? What is the Dark Knight?" he asked cautiously, looking up at Hellcage. He still couldn't completely relax, as even this tall man was quite terrifying.

Hellcage withdrew his hand from the man's shoulder and looked ahead at the silent street filled with statues.

"That's your blessing. Our Liege has imbued it with a piece of her divine power that will protect you, and you can wield it. But don't squander it on trivial matters; that would be disrespectful to our Liege," he warned.

Marik felt the mark, but had no idea how he could employ such a thing.

"When the time comes, I'll tell you how to use it," Hellcage said before Marik could inquire.

"As for the Dark Knight, those are abilities that will be bestowed upon you. It is a cherished soul that even in death follows our Liege, ready to serve. The Dark Knights were once a formidable unit. They dedicated their lives and faith to serving our Liege but perished defending the End of the World," Hellcage explained willingly, his voice sounding a bit distant.

"Who attacked..." Marik began, intrigued by the story, but Hellcage interrupted him. "That's not important. You can ask the Dark Knight himself later. For now, we must focus on the mission."

So Marik bit his tongue to prevent himself from asking questions, and the stiffness in his body almost disappeared. He glanced around at the statues they passed.

"A lot of them look normal, but some... I have no idea what they are," he admitted as they passed a figure that resembled a man with a bull's head.

Hellcage snorted. "Our Liege doesn't care who or what you are. As long as you are faithful, she accepts everyone. The Liege is a true god who sees no difference based on race, gender, or mindset. Which of the other gods can you say is the same? Tck. A bunch of hypocrites," he clicked his tongue in annoyance at the other gods.

Marik didn't dare reply, fearing Hellcage might punch him. He didn't think he could survive such a blow. He couldn't really defend the acknowledged gods because what Hellcage said was true. The Goddess of Sea and Storm was dominant and didn't favor the Sun God. If someone who had followed the Sun God before wanted to convert to her, they wouldn't be allowed.

For instance, the God of Progress disliked the God of Time and Space, and the God of Harvest was in eternal conflict with the God of Disease, Decay, and Death. These disputes among the gods had an impact on their worshippers as well. While there weren't any ongoing religious wars at the moment, not all races could freely join religions.

This was especially true for those brought here by the Border Mist. The last race brought in by the Border Mist over five thousand years ago had it the hardest. They called themselves Orcs, and for some reason, they were rejected by all the gods.

"What is the name of the place you come from?" Hellcage asked, interrupting Marik's thoughts.

"Peril Harbor," he answered immediately, without hesitation.

"Hmm. You'll tell me everything you know about that place while we're sailing."

Marik nodded. "Yes," he agreed, letting out a sigh of relief. He hoped he'd never discover that it wasn't his homeland.

Peril Harbor

Garien Earlynight, also known as the Midnight Queen, sat in her mansion, which had once been a former galleon destroyed over a hundred years ago. It had been transformed into a luxurious mansion that served as not only her home but also the main headquarters of her criminal organization. She had been one of the three big bosses in Peril Harbor, controlling all the alcohol distribution.

Garien had been an elegant lady in her mid-thirties with dark green hair and intense pea-green eyes. She possessed high cheekbones, which made her appear slightly thinner than she was, but she had still been a rather attractive woman.

Seated in the lounge, Garien had been able to easily observe the harbor. She had slumped in a comfortable chair, enjoying her favorite tea. The battle between the two crews had broken out in the harbor, and she had watched with only mild interest. This had been nothing new; it had even been the entertainment of the locals who bet on the winners.

She had picked up a beautifully ornate cup to take a sip when suddenly the cup had broken off, leaving only the handle in her hand. The entire contents of the cup had spilled onto her satin dress, and the cup had shattered on the floor.

Garien had quickly gotten to her feet and had picked up the soaked fabric of her dress, frowning at the piece of the cup that remained in her hand. "Bad omen?" she had muttered.