The magic of the Orcs was blasphemous by comparison to the Elves.
Orcish casting is limited. Brutish is the only word that comes to mind when describing their "magic".
They didn't cast spells like you or me. They performed rituals that often required blood, flesh, or bodily fluids. The more powerful an incantation, the greater the sacrifice that is warranted.
Although they were said to be hard to approach, it was not uncommon to find their shamans with missing fingers or parts of their bodies missing entirely. The more experienced a caster was in Orcish culture, the less of themselves they seemed to have.
The Orcs' ritualistic nature was self-destructive, but they've long since become extinct, just as the other races have.
Only the Elves remain, which is how I prefer it.
Pre-Wall documentation about Orcish culture.
Chapter four—archived at the Great Library.
-----------------------
The couple were hand in hand as they walked to the Gilded Towers. After their kiss, words didn't feel necessary.
The slight trace of Elise's thumb on Gwynevere's hand expressed everything that needed to be said. The occasional glance, the half smile, the pushing of hair behind the ear. It was all perfect.
Gwyn still hadn't felt any different after her possession, or now lack thereof. The last thing she remembered was being in the Head Whisperer's office. Then she was suddenly in a tiny shop with way too much stuff and a bird with an oddly human name.
Yet, all was right within the human woman. Elise's hand was warm in hers. The mild Midsummer night was all Gwyn ever wanted. The stars dazzled above them. It was like that on Earth—the constellations from a whole new perspective. Gwyn looked for the North Star and the Little Dipper. She couldn't find either of them, and nor did she expect to.
They entered the massive golden structure and, shortly after, found themselves within the Teleportation Sanctuary. Gwyn looked over to Elise, and she couldn't wait to—
"Artero?!"
Elise nearly jumped out of her skin, not letting go of Gwyn's hand.
"Elise?" Artero looked towards Gwyn. "What are you doing with her? Has she used her power on you? Haven't I warned you already?"
"No, it's not that Artero... I—"
His face was pained.
"Don't speak. I can't trust your words."
"You're being melodramatic, Artero. She knows what happened. We've talked. We are moving on."
"Moving on? Moving on?! Like how you moved on from me so quickly?"
Elise rolled her eyes.
"Is that what we really want to talk about right now?"
"I think it is." He rushed up to them and gripped Gwyn's hand. "Surely you'd rather be with me at the Estate."
Gwyn looked off to the side. Appearing bashful was the correct response in her mind.
"Well..."
"When will you learn, Artero? She has a preference."
"A preference for what? Bloody noses?"
Ouch.
Elise scoffed.
"How low of you, Artero. Wait one moment... You aren't jealous, are you?"
"Jealous? Why would I be jealous?"
His tone utterly betrayed him. He sounded on the brink of tears.
A devious smile crossed the Sylvian's face.
"Oh..." A soft laugh. "I see what's going on here. You want Gwynevere all to yourself. You probably got worried whenever she wasn't at the Estate. Well, she has a life of her own. She can do as she pleases."
Despite the obvious argument and the dysfunctional relationship before her. Gwyn agreed with Elise. She could do whatever she wanted. This whole back-and-forth was a little cute, but growing older by the minute.
Artero's face was smug.
"You are right, Elise. She can do whatever she pleases."
"What do you mean?"
They both looked to Gwyn, whose face was red.
"I mean..."
"I've already spent very intimate time with Gwynevere," Artero declared proudly. "Which is something you'll never experience."
Gwyn bit her lip so hard it nearly bled.
"Actually..."
"That's funny, Artero, because Gwyn and I spent all night together. I'm probably the only reason she can cast magic."
A confused expression painted the prince's face.
"What do you mean?"
In her gloating, Elise forgot she wasn't technically allowed at the Kosmairian Estate.
"The night before my test, Elise had spent the night."
Elise slapped the Chosen One's arm.
"Gwynevere!"
"What? It's true."
Artero looked struck by this revelation. He stepped away from them.
"I can't believe this..."
"Artero, don't look like that." Gwyn pleaded.
"No, no. You've... under my nose... before the contract..."
He was fumbling his words. A look of betrayal overtook him.
"Artero, don't do this."
"No!" He shouted. He stomped up the stairs to a ruby coffin. Red tendrils surrounded his body. "Gwynevere Grim, you are hereby banished from the Kosmairian Estate!"
She reached out for him, wanting to talk things out further.
"Artero, wait!"
A red flash, and he was gone.
Gwyn huffed.
"Wow."
"Overreaction, much?"
Gwyn now smacked Elise's arm.
"Why did you push him like that?"
"I didn't intend that, it's just..."
Gwyn had known what Elise was trying to say.
"It's fine, I guess. Hey, I wasn't expecting any help anyway. I still have my room here, so I'll just be using that."
Elise's smile wavered. They retreated to the Bloody Princesses' room and closed the door. Not many words were exchanged between them. Between Gwyn's possession and her now lack of possessions at the Kosmairian Estate, this night was not turning out how she'd expected.
At one point, Elise stepped into the bathroom and put on a nightgown. It was a dark green with golden trimmings on the outer lace. The gown certainly exaggerated her features.
"You look incredible."
Gwyn eventually said as the elf lay beside her. Gwyn didn't have any fancy nightclothes, so she simply stripped down to her underwear and put on her robe.
Elise smiled at Gwyn's comment and turned to her side.
A soft tracing of fingers on Gwyn's abdomen.
"How are you feeling now that the King of Terror is no longer inside you?"
Gwyn stifled a laugh.
"You probably could've worded that better."
Nails lightly dug into her navel.
"You know what I mean."
The Chosen One felt tired. Despite being catatonic and basically asleep during her possession, it didn't feel exactly restful. Gwynevere then thought of the contract between Elise and Artero. Was his confession a sign for the contract to be broken?
Did Elise just win? Do I have to marry her?
The Chosen One flipped over to face the elf. They made eye contact. It was an overwhelming rush of emotion.
"Thanks for helping me, even though you manipulated my feelings."
"Feelings you already had, I just um... gave you a push, was all."
"What are my feelings saying now?"
Elise knew what Gwyn was thinking. The way the Chosen One playfully bit her lip was all too revealing in her intentions.
"What, so you want me to use my power on you now?"
A coy response.
"Oh, I don't know."
Elise rolled her eyes and traced a hand down Gwynevere's stomach. A hand slipped between lace fabric—a playful touch, followed by a soft kiss.
A sudden yawn expelled from the Chosen One.
"Are you sure you aren't tired?"
"No, no. We can have a little fun."
Gwyn wrapped her arms around Elise, but a second yawn revealed the Chosen One's hidden intentions.
"I think purging the King of Terror was a little more exhausting than I thought."
A soft kiss to the Chosen One's temple.
"We can 'have a little fun' after you rest."
Gwyn pouted, but flipped over on her side.
"Fine, but I get to be the little spoon."
"The little what?"
"Just wrap your arm around me."
Until the twenty-fifth Chosen One was summoned to Keceo, Elise hadn't smiled for a long time. But when she was with Gwynevere, her face often felt tired from the constant curvature of her lips.
"Anything you desire."
~
Artero stood in front of his mirror as he had many times. All his planning was for nothing. He lost, or so he thought.
"How could they both do this to me?"
He punched the mirror in front of him. It shattered, and glass shards dug into his skin. The pain was present. He could fix the pain, yet decided he hadn't deserved it.
"You moron." He said to himself. "You've got a good thing with them both. Why would you banish Gwynevere?"
He dragged his bloodied hand through his hair.
"Perhaps I overreacted."
"I'd say so, Young Master."
"Ah! What have I said about you sneaking up on people?"
The servant continued as though it were an impossibility not to sneak up on others.
"Sorry, Young Master. I heard glass being shattered. I was afraid you were going to start making dreadful noises again."
"How many times do I have to tell you, those noises weren't what you think they were. Working out? Remember?"
The servant appeared skeptical.
"Yes. Well, if there were a way to stop those noises from happening in the first place, why wouldn't I attempt to do so?"
"Huh?"
"Nothing is set in stone, Young Master. If you can make a change, why wait around?" The servant turned to exit Artero's room. "Plus, that sound haunts my dreams. For as long as I live, that sound will torment me."
Artero looked at his bloodied hand and healed his wound with little effort.
"Nothing is set in stone..."
~
A knocking at the door, especially at this hour, was unexpected to Elise. The only person who'd ever visit her was right beside her—peacefully sleeping.
"Coming."
Elise said softly, surely whoever was on the other side wouldn't have heard her response through their knocks. She threw on her robe and opened the door.
"Artero? What are you—"
With desperate resolve, he lunged at the Sylvian. Before she could appropriately respond, a firm kiss was placed on her lips. Elise fell into the kiss for a moment before pushing him away.
Elise's brain was scrambled.
"Artero! What... who... why...?"
"I've come to apologize. I've made a horrible mistake."
"Mistake? What do you mean?"
"Gwyn is no longer banished. The same applies to you, Elise. I overreacted."
Elise was still in a sleepy haze. She wasn't sure whether what was happening was a dream.
"Wait, wait, wait. What mistake? Are you talking about earlier?"
"Everything, Elise. I want to get back together."
Elise stumbled backwards, now positive she was dreaming.
"That's not how it works, Artero."
"I know, but I would like to start over. With you and Gwynevere."
"Wait, you want to be with both of us?"
"Yes. Whatever issues we had, I'm certain we can work them out."
Elise shook her head.
"You don't get to barge into my room after causing a scene and apologize like that."
"And why not?"
"Because..."
A noticeable draft was suddenly present. Elise's eyes drifted away from the prince to Gwyn, who was still sleeping. Yet, something caught her—something that wasn't there but moments ago.
"What's that lying on Gwyn?"
"Oh, Gwynevere's here?" He stepped further into the room. "Well... it appears to be a tethercat. It's yours, right? You've always fancied them."
"No, I haven't had one for a while now."
Just at that moment, the cat bowed in a deep stretch and leapt off of Gwyn to the floor.
Its limbs elongated, as fur fell from its body, revealing a silvery skin beneath. Its body shifted, forming into something else entirely—robes of black manifested, death raven feathers draped to the floor on an onyx cloak. As the figure grew taller and taller, it took on an elfin shape. Silver hair curled around their handsome face.
The former tethercat wore a smirk.
"Oh, I love a good love triangle."
"Who the fuck are you?" Artero raised his gloved hand. "Why are you sleeping on Gwynevere?"
"Shush, Darling," he said. "You'll awaken the Chosen One. I'll explain everything."
Elise's eyes darted between Gwyn and the elf with silver hair.
"Who are you? Why are you here?"
"I've come to relay an important message, my lovelies. It may save this world as we know it."
Artero scoffed, holding his hand firm.
"I sincerely doubt that."
He leaned in close to both of them, putting both arms around their necks. A whisper left his lips.
"Wishes."