In the last three thousand years, ever since the Wall was erected, it has never been breached by the Red Death a single time. The amount of space we've left to inhabit is decreasing, however. The Wall's strength does appear to be waning.
Our citizens remain protected from the miasma that devours us from within, consuming our magic and leaving us a dancing ball of fire and agony.
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"What do you mean, breached? I thought—"
His expression was a mix of panic and confusion.
"I don't know, Gwynevere. To my knowledge, this has never happened before."
He hurriedly fished his doublet out of the tub.
Gwyn wasn't sure how the Wall worked, but she figured she was safe. She remembered them mentioning that it had been here for five thousand years.
Why is this happening now?
"Do you want me to do anything?"
Artero buried his emotions and gave Gwyn a peaceful look.
"I would like you to come with me to inspect what's going on." He stepped closer and kissed her. "I would like to continue this… sooner, rather than later. But my people may be in trouble."
"Yes, of course." Gwyn reached for the towel and quickly dried herself. "Sorry about your clothes, I didn't know this would happen."
"No worries."
He held his clothing in front of him and held out his gloved hand.
"Dry this clothing with heat or wind,
So I can wear it again!"
The clothing then nearly blew away as a large gust of wind swept through the bathroom. When it was finished, the doublet was dry as it had been before Gwyn tossed it into the tub.
"Magic can do anything, huh?" Gwyn asked as she started for the door to fetch some fresh clothing.
"No, but I know a few tricks. I'll be waiting by the door."
He exited the bathroom just after her.
Gwyn quickly dressed herself in a red sundress and black stockings. She promptly put on her robe and ran down the steps. Rodrick and Artero were waiting outside.
Rodrick reached out a hand as if to check her temperature.
"Madam, are you okay? Your face is flushed."
"I'm fine."
She dodged his hand. After her time alone with Artero, her body was still basking in the afterglow.
"As you say, madam." He turned to look at Artero. "Ready to leave, Young Master?"
"Yes, Rodrick, take me to the breach."
Artero's face now stoic, and it couldn't help but make Gwyn want him more. Although he could be nervous sometimes, he knew how to focus when it mattered.
Rodrick stuck his sword into the ground.
"Give me lift, and I'll fly away,
embiggen my sword
So I can save the day!"
The knight shouted. His already giant sword nearly tripled in size. Rodrick kicked the middle of the sword, knocking it flat. He then stood near the middle of the hilt. A moment later, he soared into the sky, riding it like a skateboard effortlessly.
His red armor must have weighed a ton, but he was soaring at speeds Gwyn's eyes could barely track.
"Oh my God."
"If you think that's impressive."
"Wings of flight, onyx and gold,
Give me the power to stop this unknown."
Instantly, wings sprouted from Artero's back. They were just as he said, onyx with gold-trimmed feathers. They nearly dwarfed him in size.
"I had to make them bigger to carry both of us."
"I'm sorry?" Gwyn furrowed her brow. "What do you meeeeeeeeeean—"
Artero quickly grabbed Gwyn around the waist and shot towards the sky.
The Chosen One yelped, but it caught in her throat. Artero then bound her with magic, so her falling was an impossibility. Gwyn could feel his strong fingers firmly grasp her. If she weren't thirty-five hundred feet in the air, she would probably be enjoying his touch right now.
"Sorry, Chosen One," he shouted. "It's much better just to say sorry, then ask for permission when it comes to flying!"
"You could have said something! You just sprouted wings!"
"Pretty cool, right?"
Artero smirked through his words.
Gwyn rolled her eyes and stared at Keceo below.
The never-ending fields of flowers eventually did come to an end, near the far eastern border. There was an abandoned settlement, half consumed by the Wall. Cut directly down the center.
Near the settlement, a red miasma was building into a large cloud, brimming with lightning. Red particles fell like snow from the cloud that had just begun its formation.
Rodrick and several other members of the Kosmairian family were already there, staring at the Red Death, shock and worry on their faces.
"There you are, Young Master," Rodrick said. "You should've been here quicker. I know you are faster than most of us here."
"I had to bring an important package."
He turned to face Gwyn, who was not far behind.
Her legs were shaking as she got used to the feel of Keceo beneath her feet again.
"Don't worry about me! I'm fine." Gwyn righted herself and walked up and punched Artero's arm. "Warn me next time before you do that!"
Artero exaggerated her blow, but then became serious again.
"What's the situation?"
An old man in red and white robes approached the party.
"Well, a small formation of the Red Death has breached the Wall. If I am not mistaken, this can be contained, but the question is why this happened in the first place." He stroked his long beard, then noticed the Chosen One. "Oh! Chosen One, how are you enjoying the amenities we have provided?"
Gwyn gave a brief bow.
"They're great. Thank you for housing me."
"Don't mention it, a lady as fine as yourself—"
The old man's words were cut off.
"Enough formalities." General Strangulation, whom Gwyn saw at the Meeting of the Chosen, suddenly appeared before them. Frustration and anger painted every feature of her face. "How the fuck did this happen? Why here?"
"Excuse me, General," Lazlo Waterborne said, standing among them, the head researcher who was present at the Meeting of the Chosen. "It appears, though, that a powerful force has struck this area."
The elf pointed to a slight discoloration on the Wall, which was barely perceptible.
"What do we make of this?" Artero asked.
"I believe it's the King of Terror's doing," General Strangulation said. She then adjusted her gaze to Gwyn, sniffed, and grimaced. "God, my brother hasn't sunk his claws into you, too, has he? You smell like you've been fucking. Is this really the time, Chosen One?"
"Sister! Now is not the time," Artero said.
"That is General to you, my young brother." She approached Artero, who was well over six feet tall, dwarfed by her bulky red and white armor. "Your duties are to your people first, then to your playthings."
General Strangulation gestured to Gwyn.
"She is not a plaything! She—"
But the General cut him off.
"I don't want to hear it." She turned away from them both. "Lazlo."
The elf in glasses stood erect.
"Yes, General."
"Repair the barrier, however you can. I have to get back to the frontlines." She turned, closed her eyes, but then opened them for a second and spoke. "Oh, and Chosen One?"
"Y-yes."
Gwyn was terrified of the red-haired woman. You could feel her presence and emotions as if they were your own. It was overwhelming to be around.
"Don't get yourself hurt."
The moment those words were uttered, General Strangulation disappeared.
What does she mean by that?
She looked towards Artero.
Artero wore a sneer.
"Ignore her, she just liked Elise more than you, it seems."
"If you say so."
The Chosen One wondered why give her that warning in the first place.
Lazlo approached them again.
"If I may, Kosmairian," Lazlo said, addressing Artero directly.
"You may," Artero said sternly.
"I believe we can just infuse our magic into the barrier and repair it, if not temporarily, while we come up with a better solution."
"What about the cloud?"
Artero and all present looked at its menacing presence. Red and swirling in every direction as if it were starving, like it were looking for something.
"I believe we can trap it within a barrier. It hasn't become a Devastation, yet." Lazlo's face looked somewhat grim. "We should be able to contain it while it is still infantile."
Devastation?Become one?
She looked at the red cloud and felt a surge of terror course through her.
Artero crossed his arms and glanced down at the researcher.
"Make it so. Gather as many mages as you need to repair this."
"Yes, Kosmairian."
Lazlo then walked to the group of mages. Some of them pulled out various objects that they could fly with, one of them being a broomstick. They took off into the air, back towards the estate.
Lazlo Waterborne began casting a powerful barrier to surround the Red Death. The other mages assisted.
"Will everything be alright?" Gwyn asked.
Twenty mages or more struggled to trap this one small cloud. It was maybe as large as the bathroom Gwyn just came from.
"I'm sure it will, madam," Rodrick said. "Nothing the Kosmairians can't handle!"
He smacked his breastplate hard and made a boisterous clanking noise.
"Indeed."
Artero contained a hint of worry in his gaze as he stared at the Red Death.
"Should we tell the other houses about this?" Gwyn suggested.
"Gods, no," Artero said as if Gwyn were stupid, but quickly corrected himself. "Sorry. Could you imagine the panic this would cause? It's bad enough that the barrier is shrinking every year, and faster than before. The last solace our people have is that they are at least safe within the Walls."
He bristled, a mixture of sorrow and fear overtaking his confidence.
"Sorry, I had no idea."
Gwyn wasn't aware of the politics of the Elven kind, but she did know what it felt like to be trapped.
"Everything is fine, madam." Rodrick placed a consoling hand on her shoulder. "We will figure this out, we always do."
A knight in black stood amongst the red and white garb of the Kosmairian family. Gwyn adjusted her gaze to the Red Death that seeped through the Wall.
For some reason, it was alluring. Gwyn had an insatiable desire to reach out for it, but she had no idea why. She shook her head. Surely, she was mistaken; the words of the King of Terror rang in her mind.
The elves cannot be trusted.