Only a few blinks were needed for her to see a dark ceiling above her.
The smell of wood filled her nose. She looked around. Beneath her, there was only a bed. In front of her, a wall. In the front right corner, stairs. On the sides, walls... and a bed. Slady? Nothing answered.
She twisted her body, falling from the bed and letting out a groan. She tried to support herself, but her arms would not obey. When she raised her head, her vision of the wall blurred into slow spins, making her cover her mouth and swallow whatever might have come out, eventually ending up on her back.
For a moment, she remembered what had happened. In the same second, she slid her hands beneath the white shirt she was wearing. There was no wound. She lifted it, finding only a small scar.
Wait... where were her clothes? Her sword? Actually, where was she?!
Suddenly, the sound of a door opening echoed, with a faint light coming from it. Slow footsteps followed. Ferinish curled up, moving back into a corner of the bed. The shadows gradually shrank until someone was revealed: Carolina, holding a long firearm in her hands and pointing it at Ferinish.
Her eyes widened slightly when she saw her, lowering the weapon and calling her by name. Ferinish did the same. Why was she there? What had happened? Carolina rubbed her eyes. It was a long story, but she needed to go back to sleep. It was the middle of the night.
No! She had the right to question her! Carolina had attacked her together with Fraizen and that man! Because of her, Slady had...
No. He was "fine."
What? How?
She had seen everything. The piercing... Fraizen's condition... how...?
She did not know either.
Sitting slowly beside Ferinish, she said that she had searched for them desperately. She had not wanted things to end that way, but if she had gone against the queen, she would have died. And when she found them, they were covered in snow and had scars in certain places. Slady now had a large scar across his chest.
Ferinish hugged her legs even tighter against her chest. Had it been that thing? Had that liquid somehow come into contact with their bodies, even if only slightly? She truly could not decipher it. So, when she directed her gaze toward the body covered by a cloth, she could only imagine how lucky they were to have survived.
Then she stood and slowly walked toward the bed. Carolina tried to warn her about something, but the sound of the blanket being pulled away stopped her voice, and Ferinish's eyes widened.
From the chest up, Slady was naked, without bandages, his skin completely different from the last time she had seen him. And not only that. There was a white patch in his bangs, which she touched and examined between her fingers.
Carolina took a deep breath. She had been surprised as well. From what little she had learned about him, she was certain that he could heal himself, but not this quickly. As she stood, she admitted that she had never seen his true appearance before meeting him, and she wanted to know: was this what he really looked like?
No. Definitely not.
Placing her hands behind her back, Carolina nodded and turned away. They would have a serious conversation tomorrow. For now, she should try to sleep.
Ferinish looked at her. How could she trust her after her betrayal?
Carolina replied that if she truly were a traitor, Ferinish would have woken up buried beneath the snow, assuming she had woken up at all.
Then the door closed. Ferinish lowered her head, crossing her arms over her chest, her red eyes still fixed on the man's body.
The last time she had seen his chest was in the laboratory, in the middle of the experiments. But now, there was a raised area, as if they were... breasts. Ferinish looked away and covered the man, then covered herself in the bed and slipped beneath the blankets, trying to erase the image from her mind for the rest of the night.
In the morning, she woke to the smell of coffee entering her nostrils. Ferinish sat up, rubbed her hair, and stood, yawning. She looked at Slady, then quickly looked away and opened the door.
In front of her, on the floor, a boy was swinging wooden toys around, acting out a battle. When he heard the door close, he raised his bright eyes, meeting Ferinish's somber gaze.
Was she the pretty woman he had seen his sister carrying into the house together with a man?
He hoped so, he replied as he leaned against the wall beside her, placing a hand over his forehead.
By the way, his name was Gyne Silver. He stood up and offered his hand.
Her name was Ferinish... Ferinish Lawhell. She reached out her arm.
But then Carolina's voice echoed, calling the boy's name. He was supposed to eat!
She appeared at the entrance of the small corridor, holding a glass bowl against her chest, frantically beating eggs together with ingredients that turned them into a dark, pasty mixture.
There she was.
She immediately told her brother that he should not give his name to strangers. But how was she a stranger? She had said she was a friend... that was true. He had won the argument.
The boy puffed out his chest as he marched toward the chair. Carlos had taught him how to always win arguments against her. Yes, Carlos was becoming a bad influence. She would teach him a lesson the next time she saw him, Carolina finished with a brief smile.
Ferinish sat down as well, curling her fingers together over her bare knee. The boy's short shoes occasionally bumped against her, causing shivers and making the veins in her arms stand out, which she restrained herself from reacting to.
Carolina, holding a wooden board with three steaming pans, placed it on the table and declared that silence should reign. It was time for lunch.
As soon as the plates were empty, Gyne let out a small burp. Carolina gave him a stern look. He apologized, thanked his sister, and then asked if he could go back to playing.
Carolina leaned forward, wiping an orange stain from the corner of the boy's lips. He could, but only in his room for a little while, and afterward he had to sleep so he could digest his food.
He nodded and hugged her. He loved her.
She loved him too, more than anything.
He climbed out of her arms and ran toward the stairs, going up them in hurried steps. Ferinish followed his movements with her eyes, but the silence had now been broken.
Ferinish.
Now they could talk.
And the expression that had previously held a smile now became completely blank.
What did she want to talk about?
It was about... everything that had happened that day, specifically.
Ferinish turned completely toward her. Her fingers were no longer beneath the table, but resting on top of it.
Carolina took a deep breath, inhaling slowly before speaking. Well, that day had been... complicated.
She preferred to give her version first, if Ferinish allowed her, of course. Ferinish nodded.
On the day of that fight, she had been patrolling some of the poorer streets of the kingdom, expecting it to be an ordinary day. Suddenly, a soldier told her that the queen had summoned her.
When she went to her chambers, she learned of her order: Ferinish Lawhell was to come here.
That was all.
She was not to question it, nor was she given a choice. That was the order.
At one point before the battle, when she heard Fraizen's declarations, she truly did not want any of it. Ferinish had not been merely a citizen she had helped. She had been... something close to a friend. Not an intimate friend, nor someone who visited her house every weekend, but someone she could trust, someone she knew she could rely on.
And having to do all of that, fighting while watching the castle collapse before her eyes and refusing to change her objective, unable to go and save those who were inside the castle, had filled her with such an overwhelming sense of helplessness... so painfully overwhelming.
And what had happened to her after Ferinish received that blow?
She had fled, together with that man she claimed was Carlos.
She could not read minds, but she was certain that he had not wanted any of it either, even if Ferinish had been nothing more than a stranger to him.
And what had happened to Fraizen? To the castle? To the people who had been there?
That was the question.
Ferinish had done an incredible job saving so many innocent people under the pressure of the battle, but some had not been so fortunate. And with that, neither of them said another word.
...And what about Fraizen? She had not seen her for some time. That was why she was free now. She had been dismissed, along with Carlos. And the castle should be in perfect condition again, but the people who had been lost in the battle would not return. They were not made of ice. They were made of flesh and blood.
This could not continue. Someone had to take the throne.
How?
Fraizen was far too powerful. All they had to do was look at what had happened to Ferinish and Slady after the fight. It was impossible to defeat her.
For a moment, Ferinish lowered her head. But a few seconds later, she raised it slightly, almost smiling. There was a variable.
What was it?
Slady had poisoned her before he "died."
How?
Ferinish explained. According to her version, before she was killed, he had struck Fraizen with a needle. When she saw it, Fraizen had begun turning into something monstrous. In other words, she was weakened. They could defeat her. They could free the kingdom. They only needed to unite the strong... And have patience.
Carolina slowly stood and said seriously: If this is true, then right now, we will find someone powerful.
***
At a door, Carolina looked around. Only the wind howled. Behind her, Ferinish covered her neck with a dark hood. Without wasting much time, Carolina knocked repeatedly on the door. A male voice shouted for her to come in.
When she pushed the handle down, Carolina found a man sitting on the couch, bandaging certain areas of his body. When he saw his friend and the other woman, he stood up and immediately grabbed the weapon beside him, pointing it at Ferinish. Who was she? Why was she there?!
Carolina exclaimed for him to calm down. Ferinish did not even react. She remained staring at him without looking away. The woman took his pistol and put it back in its place, guiding him back toward the couch. She would explain everything, but he had to listen to her before anything else.
After hearing everything, Carlos leaned back against the couch. His answer was no different. Fraizen was extremely powerful. Even poisoned, what difference would it make? They would die, and she would do something insane to take revenge. It would be a three-person suicide that would escalate into a mass slaughter. No one would save them from her.
Ferinish, having been served a black coffee, sat cross-legged on the carpet, bringing the liquid to her lips and twisting her face slightly as she swallowed. That was horrible. Carolina pressed her lips together, and Carlos frowned.
Setting the cup down beside her, she said that it was indeed dangerous, but they had to take advantage of the fact that they were free. She would train them until then. Carolina sat beside her friend.
The man intertwined his fingers, resting his chin on them. How could he be sure that, during this training, she would not take the opportunity to kill them?
Ferinish replied that if she wanted to kill them, she would do so without difficulty.
Carlos almost stood up, but Carolina placed a hand against his chest, giving him a look. He growled, the image of his defeat as clear as snow in his mind. If she was right about what she was saying, he would do whatever she ordered. But if this failed, she had better be certain that many innocent people would die because of her.
Ferinish nodded, taking a deep breath. She still had much to repay for everything she had done. With that, she stood up, swallowed the coffee...
And ran to the bathroom, the sound of vomiting echoing through the room. After a minute, she declared: They should leave. Now.
***
In the castle, the woman sat against the throne, her silhouette visible through the shadows.
From her neck, black roots rose with a life of their own, circling her bloodshot eyes.
Her hands, with icy claws tearing through the skirt of her clothes, rose toward her face, their tips sinking slightly into her skin.
As they descended toward her neck, trails of blood formed, but quickly froze, and more screams escaped her, shattering the delicate glasses in the kitchen and even cracking the ceiling.
She swore by Zyrionq, by everything that existed in this world, that she would make their lives a living hell.