TINK!!!
TINK!!!
CRASH!!!
The loud sound of shattered glass woke Ovidia up. She sat up fast, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand and yawning. She reached for the side watch, it was 2 a.m. in the middle of the night.
CRASH!!!
The sound came again, wiping sleep from her eyes as she snapped fully alert. Then hushed voices drifted in closely, making her heart thumped hard. She tried to remember if she locked the front door… or the back one. The doubt alone made her breath hitch.
She stays alone in her apartment, with no roommate or friends who ever visit. So hearing those voices shook her. She was sure it was more than two, the quiet overlap giving them away.
That meant strangers were inside, moving around like they owned the place, and that made her stomach dropped.
And her mind screamed at her that whoever was downstairs at this time of the night were definitely thieves. She didn't need proof as the fear settled in fast.
Without thinking, she climbed down from the bed and moved straight to the bedroom door. She locked it fast, her hand shaking a little. She started pacing, whispering small prayers, begging that whatever those thieves wanted stayed downstairs and far from her room.
The thought of them entering her bedroom sent goosebumps crawling over her skin. She kept pacing quietly, trying to breathe, and think. A lot ran through her mind at once... how they got in, what they wanted, if they even knew she was awake.
Then the doorknob twisted just once. That small sound nearly stopped her heart. She froze in place, staring at the door. She couldn't believe they were right there, at her door, trying to confirm if someone was inside.
A lot of what ifs rushed through her mind... What if she hadn't locked the bedroom door just now? What if they already knew she was awake? The doorknob kept twisting, and her heart wouldn't calm down. She knew standing in the open was stupid, she needed to hide.
Her eyes moved around the room fast. There wasn't much space, the only place that came to her mind was under the bed. She dropped to her knees, trying not to make a sound. The floor felt cold against her palms as she crawled inch by inch, under the bedframe.
She held her breath, sliding fully into the darkness. If the thieves succeeded in opening her door, she prayed they wouldn't bother checking under the bed.
She had never been robbed by thieves in her life. The only thing that had ever robbed her was death itself, the day it took her mother away. Thinking about her mother made her eyes sting, but it also pushed her to whisper a quiet prayer.
"I know you always watch over me… please protect me from these thieves." She murmured, barely moving her lips. It wasn't loud, just a small plea she hoped to reach wherever her mother rested.
She believed fully that her mother had been watching over her since the moment she died. Every close call, every lonely night, every moment she felt scared, she always pictured her mother close by, guarding her.
After staying under the bed for about twenty minutes, she realized there was no sound, no hushed voices, and no twisting of the doorknob. A quiet settled over the apartment, but her body stayed tense. She wondered if the thieves had finished whatever they came for and left.
Slowly, and carefully, she crawled out from under the bed, keeping low and moving as quietly as she could. She prayed the thieves had really gone, that she wouldn't run into them now.
*
*
*
From across the room, Prince Jarl stood, his eyes fixed on the robe lying on the bed. He didn't like the color and decided it would have to be sent back.
But just as he was about to look away, something moved. His eyes caught someone crawling out from under the bed. Instantly, his body stiffened in alert as every muscle tense in his body.
When Ovidia crawled out and turned around, her eyes locked with Prince Jarl's. She screamed, and he screamed too, startled by her sudden appearance.
Her eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail realizing this wasn't her bedroom. Her mind raced, replaying what had happened earlier... the thieves, hiding under her bed. But now she was somewhere else entirely. How was that even possible?
"Who the hell are you? And how did you get under my bed?" He demanded looking at her suspiciously.
Ovidia froze, her heart hammering. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Every thought collided in her mind, trying to make sense of the impossible.
His bed? Ovidia's mind spun. How was this possible? This had to be a joke. Or… was she dead? No, she was certain. The thieves hadn't reached her room to steal. She had hidden under her bed, just as she remembered.
Prince Jarl's eyes scanned her quickly, from her hair bonnet to her night shirt, then to her night trousers. His expression was curious, and a little confused.
"What sort of strange dressing is this?" he muttered under his breath.
Ovidia glanced down at herself in confusion. She saw nothing unusual... just her normal nightwear, the same she had been wearing when she went to bed.
Yet his gaze made her feel exposed, as if she were somehow out of place, wrong even, in her own skin. She opened her mouth to answer but hesitated, unsure how to explain what had happened... or if it even made sense.
"How did I end up under your bed?" She finally found her voice, her words trembling slightly.
The room looked strange, unfamiliar, and even the man standing before her seemed out of place, dressed like someone from the medieval times. Her mind struggles to make sense of everything.
"No… You should be the one to answer that. How the hell did you end up under my bed?" He demanded again.
"I… I do not know where I am." She admitted, with her eyes darting around as she tried to find something familiar. She looked lost, and helpless.
Prince Jarl, however, wasn't buying it. His eyes narrowed, and he lifted a finger, pointing it at her as if to warn her. But before she could react, something impossible happened... fire shot out from his fingers, flaring through the room.
Seeing fire shoot out from his fingers, she screamed aloud.
"What sort of magic was that?" She thought, fear and surprise written across her face.
But her shock didn't compare to Prince Jarl's. He stared at his fingers, wide-eyed, frozen in disbelief. He could feel the energy pulsing through his veins.
"How… how is this possible?" He muttered under his breath.
His mind raced, trying to make sense of what had just happened. He had never trained as a mage, never studied to be one. Yet the power had come out of him effortlessly.
How the hell did he have the power of a mage when he had never trained even once? And the worst part... this fire magic belonged to the Solkara from the Southern Kingdom. Who are the sworn enemies of the Aerinthal.
Prince Jarl was an Aerinthal, from the Northern Kingdom. None of this made sense.
Prince Jarl's mind raced, trying to find a reason, anything that could explain it. How could an Aerinthal, with no training or lineage connected to Solkara, wield their magic? It shouldn't be possible. Every theory he could think of collapsed under the impossible reality staring back at him.
And then his gaze fell on Ovidia. The girl who had appeared out of nowhere, crawling from under his bed. A chill ran down his spine. The thought struck him suddenly... What if she had a hand in this? What if this whole situation was manipulated?
"You… you manipulated this," he said, his voice trembling with anger and disbelief. "And I'll deal with you for that."