She tried to reach them, calling out their names. Her father did not even turn his body. But her mother, when she saw her, widened her eyes and stepped back, demanding the guards' intervention. Alice shouted for them to release her, and also insulted her parents with multiple bizarre words. Her husband tried to intervene, to prevent them from crossing any line against his beloved and daughter, but soon received a blow to the head with a weapon.
Alice woke up at home. The air was cold, touching her skin hidden beneath delicate clothing. There was a cloth on her forehead. She called for her husband once, twice, three times. He appeared, with a calm smile, a white band covering part of his face. First, he leaned his back against the door, crossing his arms and one leg in front of the other, and commented that Morgana had called him, apologizing for the unpleasant moment at her workplace, and that, if possible, she would understand if Alice accepted her proposal.
Vector laughed at what had been said, considering it ridiculous that the Prime Minister of NeonyRain would use a person's personal problems for her own benefit... but it was still something, better than ignoring everything that had happened.
Alice returned the laugh and admitted that she had exaggerated in her reactions. However, at that moment, she could not hold back the feeling that there was a needle piercing her heart, and trying to settle things with her mother would stop that pain. Vector sat beside her, intertwined his fingers, and placed his lips over his hand, remaining silent for long seconds. Alice called him, her eyebrows slightly raised, asking about his lack of words. Vector, adjusting his posture, separated his fingers and offered her his hand, asking her to sit on his lap. The woman smiled, softly, but with an honest gleam in her eyes. She held his hand, pulling it, and placed her head on his legs. She tried to understand the reason for her husband's request, and he declared that he had not thought of any intention at that moment, he only wanted to comfort his wife's heart.
Alice thanked him and buried her face against the man's firm stomach, murmuring words of love against his shirt-covered skin. He returned the affection, placing his fingers over her hair, pulling the strands with the care of someone tending to a flower. The woman opened her mouth and took a deep breath through her throat, a sound of relief escaping. As time passed, Vector, through the mirrors in the house corridors, watched their sleeping daughter, and felt something damp through the fabric of his clothes. Slowly, he turned his wife's body to look at her. Alongside trembling lips, tears flowed down her face. He whispered Alice's name, asking her not to cry, but she gave no response. Waking her at that moment did not seem like the best option. So, placing her seated on his lap, he embraced her with a strength he knew she could withstand.
The female body moved on its own. Her face hid in his neck, her nails clutched his clothes, her legs wrapped around his waist, and her nose deeply absorbed her man's scent.
In her mind, memories of the past formed on a black screen with small childish drawings. Drawings of a family were torn apart by the claws of a woman. Her approvals were seen through a gaze that did not seek growth, but perfection. A tiny wedding ring was forced to fit onto a larger finger, with the hands of a man and a woman, and a hand that seemed gentler, but that held the finger, broke it, shaped it, so that the ring could slide in.
And when she showed the finger to her mother, there were no direct words and not even a look, only a gesture for her to move away. And, throughout an entire life, a girl who, no matter what blade wounded her, and no matter how dirty the wound was or how deep it was, always tried to reach the older woman and show her brilliance, was held between those same fingers and crushed and thrown among the garbage of a city where melancholy was the only dominant emotion.
As everything took the shape of darkness, blending into the black screen, Vector watched his wife's body relax. The tears disappeared. The hand no longer gripped too tightly. The face no longer hid, it settled. The nose no longer tried to escape through scent, it appreciated it. And the legs no longer trembled around her husband's waist, they loosened easily. Then, Vector, intensifying his love, reminded her that he would never abandon her while she cried, that he would always protect her with body and soul. Then, settling onto the bed, Vector closed his eyes, his heart beating more slowly.
***
Amid the snows of the ice kingdom, the naked silhouette of a woman walked, holding two bodies with thin metallic limbs. The shadows protected her from the eyes of the population and the guards. As she approached the side of the castle, the smooth skin of her back touched the ice. Her body did not freeze under the low temperatures of everything she touched, on the contrary, she felt a pleasant sensation, almost indifferent to everything. From the castle walls, her body climbed in an unknown way under the darkness of the shadows.
Inside the structure, Gyne, biting his nails, begged the governess to let him leave. Rita refused, believing she was physically incapable of stopping him, but that she would do everything to keep him safe. The boy, with a tear slipping from his eyes, shouted that he was no longer a child. The governess stood still, eyes open, yet kept her chest lifted and lips pressed together. She said that no man, no matter how brave, would face something more powerful than himself unless he were a fool. The boy, even as he clenched his fists and tried to hide the tears on his face, could not deny the truth. He was weak.
However, at the same time, a sharp sound of glass shattering echoed in his sister's room. The boy grabbed a sword and rushed up the stairs. When he opened the door, he immediately attacked whatever might be in front of him... but hit nothing.
As the governess tried to follow him, suddenly, the door closed. And behind it, the unclothed body of Aurora revealed itself. The boy turned, but had no chance even to see her nudity, as one hand covered his face and devices emerged from her skin to attach to his eyes. The speed of her arm increased, and the boy's body hit the ground with a loud impact.
The first words she spoke were a warning. She had control over the life and death of Carolina and Carlos, and if the boy dared to say anything about her, not only he, not only the queen and the general, but that castle would pay for every word he spoke. The boy, still stunned from the blow, nodded and said he would never say anything about her, but asked her to tell the truth. Whether Aurora had harmed his sister and Carlos. She, sitting on his stomach, stated that she had done nothing to his beloved sister and his friend, but would not hesitate to do so. And now, at that moment, she needed something from him, clothes.
The boy did not react, only blushed and asked, his voice trembling, if she was naked. And she, smiling, her voice taking on a macabre tone, confirmed his doubt.
Walking through the kingdom, covered by a thick fabric of a king's quality, Aurora hid her own skin as she headed toward a local establishment. A man, seated in a chair, listened to songs from the Old Society coming from a radio. She observed his body relaxed by the melancholic rhythms of the male singer's voice. She brought her hand to her lips and simulated a cough. The man woke with wide eyes, stood up, and apologized repeatedly for his lack of attention. Aurora gestured in acceptance, asking him to show her the most humble clothing, arguing that, as a traveler, she would soon have to discard the garment.
Seated beneath trees covered with crystalline foliage, with the air making her hair flow, Aurora changed her clothes as her teeth trembled. The old white fabric protected her from the cold from clavicle to heel. Standing up, she held the fabric with both hands. Then, the cloth began to mold under the pressure of her touch, shrinking into a small sphere between her fingers. She held it between her middle and index fingers, aimed at the broken glass of the castle, and fired it, making it disappear in an instant.
She turned her body toward the horizon, walking toward it.
Her feet sank into the delicate snow. Her eyes grew heavy with each step. The wind, becoming increasingly aggressive, made her skin cut by small fragments of ice that struck her face. The weight of these factors made her fall to the ground at some point, however, as if something were hidden beneath all the cold of the region, she fell directly onto a fragile door, breaking it, her body striking against the icy walls. One of her feet caught on a staircase, her body swaying slowly while her consciousness was absent.
The ground, covered in a red liquid, stretched to the walls, reaching her skin and flowing through her entire structure. She opened her eyes to a metallic smell and the taste of iron in her mouth. Her pupils shone like a flashlight, revealing an abandoned scene, similar to a laboratory, much of its structure charred and destroyed. But, in the distance, there was a whimper... not a whimper, a child's cry. It grew, and grew...
Until a being of pure flesh, with empty eye sockets and a mouth with rows of thousands of teeth, lunged toward her.
***
A pink flower rested atop a gravestone. Alice, crouched, her skirt touching the damp grass, spoke softly to the stone named Luciana Morgan. She showed her daughter in her arms and her growth, and spoke of meeting her own mother, which made her feel, at the very least, agonized. Vector, beside her, looked at the tomb named Mariane Sybenkiosk, speaking about everything he had become, a strong man, a father, and more than all that, someone who could protect, as his sister once did. He cleaned the dust from the stone and placed a kiss, asking that her soul be living peacefully with God.
The little girl watched the two with curiosity, trying to form words, but only incomprehensible sounds came out. They laughed upon hearing her murmur, both telling her that, one day, she would be able to speak clearly with Aunt Mariane and Aunt Lucy.
As they walked away, they looked at another grave, Skyler Fogue. There was no hatred, nor love, much less indifference, only the acknowledgment of a man they had to forget. When they turned, they noticed Morgana standing in front of another grave. They tried to ignore her, but her voice stopped them, demanding their approach. When they did, they saw the name on the stone, Morgy.
The woman commented that it was her cat that was buried there. She acknowledged it was not a human to be placed in remembrance, but, as someone with influence, she wanted to use her power to memorialize her beloved feline, even if only for herself. Vector and Alice tried to comfort her, but Morgana refused, thanking them, but saying she had come there for only one purpose. She had heard that the politicians of Libretãnhya were having numerous disputes, not necessarily for the good of the country or the world, but for other interests, which had caused them to split. Seeing this as an opportunity, Morgana said she needed an answer at that moment.
Yes or no?