______
Hakan
---
The air bit at my skin, sharp and unforgiving. I was back in the snow, kneeling beside the white-haired woman, Lucina. The wind whipped around us, carrying icy shards that stung like tiny needles, and the world around seemed both silent and impossibly vast. I had been so focused on finding Marisa and her right-hand man, retracing my steps through the frozen wilderness, but all I found was Lucina. Relief washed over me in waves—she was alive—but a creeping unease took root. What had happened here?
"By the way, did you happen to see Marisa's body nearby?" I asked, my voice low, cautious, as my gaze swept the desolate, snowy landscape. Every ridge, every shadow, felt like it could be hiding something terrible. My eyes searched for any trace of her corpse, or even a sign of the right-hand man who had been with her.
Lucina, the woman I had just helped to her feet, lifted a cup to her lips and drank slowly, her white hair glinting in the pale light. She looked at me, calm but wary, and shook her head gently. "No… you were the only one here…"
That's strange. I frowned, letting the cold air fill my lungs as if to clear my mind. I was certain I had passed out somewhere close to her body… The snow around us looked untouched, pristine, as if nothing violent had happened at all. I scanned the area again, eyes narrowing in concentration. Where could the body have gone?
"There's no sign of Marisa or her right-hand man anywhere," I muttered aloud, a shiver crawling down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold. I looked toward the vast expanse of mountains, their jagged peaks like silent sentinels. A gust of wind—a powerful FWOOOSH—swept past, rattling the trees and scattering snowflakes in dizzying patterns, almost mocking my search. "Did he… take her corpse with him?"
I tried to rationalize, forcing logic into a situation that refused it. No matter how extraordinary a Shah's healing or survival abilities are, there was no way she could endure this frozen wasteland after having her head struck down. The absence of a body gnawed at me like an icy claw.
I reached out, placing my hand gently against Lucina's cheek. Her skin was cold, but under my touch, she seemed to warm slightly, and I gave her a reassuring look. "I see. Don't worry, Lucina." My voice was firm yet gentle. "We should hurry back home."
Lucina met my gaze, her own eyes full of quiet trust, and gave a small nod. It was enough.
I shifted, feeling my form stretch and expand. Wings—huge, leathery, and red—unfurled with a resounding FLAP, scattering snow in every direction. My claws dug into the frozen ground as my powerful tail adjusted to balance, muscles coiling in preparation. I crouched, transforming fully into my dragon form, a mighty silhouette against the white expanse. Lucina looked up at me, awe in her eyes, but also readiness.
I lowered my massive head until it was close to her. "ARE YOU READY?"
Her lips curled into a smile, excitement lighting up her face. "I'm going to fly back to Tayar Kingdom, so be careful. You've never ridden on a dragon's back before, right?" she asked, laughter dancing in her tone.
I gave her snout a gentle STROKE, and she clambered onto my back, settling against my scales with surprising ease. The warmth of her trust and excitement made the icy air feel almost bearable.
I leapt into the air, wings slicing through the cold wind with a powerful WHOOOSH, carrying us over the frozen landscape. The mountains stretched endlessly beneath us, the missing bodies momentarily forgotten as I focused on bringing Lucina safely home. Her laughter echoed softly against my scales, a sound that filled me with pride.
Authors pov
At last, the grand palace of the TAYAR KINGDOM appeared on the horizon, bathed in warm sunlight that glinted off its golden spires. Inside, the atmosphere was bright and alive. Joyful chatter and laughter intertwined with the soft jingling of a small toy. A young woman sat cross-legged on the floor, holding the toy before a bright-eyed baby who cooed and giggled with delight.
Titi
"Look at me, Your Highness!" the young woman exclaimed, waving the toy. The baby responded with sparkling eyes and a happy "GA-GA!" that seemed to light up the entire room.
Lady adar
Another woman, older and calm, watched from nearby, amusement in her gaze. "HAHA. Having a child around really brightens up the palace," she said, smiling. She then glanced down at a memory-image of me as a baby, her expression softening. "Hakan was just as cute as this little one."
The younger woman's eyes widened in wonder, sparkling with curiosity as she examined the image. "I didn't know there was a time when His Majesty was this small."
The baby cooed again, shouting an adorable "DADA! DADA!" as if recognizing something familiar, and a small, floating image of baby Lucina appeared alongside the older woman's speech bubble. "Oh my, she recognizes Hakan's name. She's so smart!"
Yet the younger woman's eyes betrayed a flicker of sadness. She hugged the toy closer, sighing (SIGH) softly. "My lady would have loved to see this…"
The older woman reached over, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "What are you so worried about? They'll be back soon," she reassured, her voice warm, like a promise carried on the sunlit air.
--
The great red dragon, its enormous wings beating the frigid air with a powerful WHOOOSH, carried the small, white-haired woman, Lucina, over the snow-covered peaks. The wind tore around them, sharp and biting, but beneath the dragon's broad, scaled back, she felt a surprising warmth and safety. Each beat of his wings created a rhythm against the frozen world below, and the cold became nothing more than a fleeting whisper. They flew swiftly, finally arriving at their destination: the grand, sunlit TAYAR KINGDOM. The palace rose before them like a beacon, its white and gold spires glittering in the bright, welcoming sky.
Within the opulent walls, a scene of domestic warmth was unfolding. A young woman, dressed in the palace style, knelt beside a luxurious bed, holding a small toy in her hands. She shook it with care, letting the cheerful JINGLE JINGLE sound fill the room. "Look at me, your highness!" she chirped, encouraging the baby lying before her. The infant's small hands reached toward the toy, eyes wide with delight. A happy "GA-GA!" escaped the child's lips, and the sound resonated like music in the gilded room.
An older woman, dressed elegantly, watched the scene with soft amusement. "HAHA. Having a child around really brightens up the palace," she said, her laugh gentle yet full of warmth. Her eyes softened with nostalgia as she recalled a memory long past. "Hakan was just as cute as a baby," she mused, smiling at the thought.
The young attendant's eyes widened with a SPARKLE as she glimpsed a fleeting image of the young King Hakan as an infant, his features delicate and unformed. "I didn't know there was a time when His Majesty was this small," she whispered, awe coloring her voice.
The baby, seemingly understanding her excitement, cooed again, babbling, "DADA! DADA!" The older woman laughed, delighted. "Oh my, she recognizes Hakan's name. She's so smart!"
Yet a faint shadow crossed the young attendant's face. She let out a quiet SIGH, pressing the toy closer to herself. "My lady would've loved to see this…" The older woman noticed immediately and gave a gentle, reassuring smile, accompanied by a soft HEHE. "What are you so worried about? They'll be back soon," she said, her tone warm and comforting.
The attendant's expression brightened, a BEAM of light spreading across her features. "O-of course they will! I just wish she'd come back sooner, that's all!" she admitted, her voice tinged with both relief and longing. Inspired by the cheerful atmosphere, the older woman suggested, "Why don't we throw a party… to celebrate their safe return?"
The young woman's reaction was immediate and LIVELY. "THAT'S A GREAT IDEA!" she exclaimed, the excitement almost tangible as a small, playful FWOOM of fiery energy flared around her. A happy SQUEAL escaped her lips before she settled down, blinking rapidly, perhaps a bit DIZZY from her sudden burst of joy. The older woman gave a soft CHUCKLE. "I think she likes your idea as well," she said, amused.
Meanwhile, in the distant Brion Kingdom…
The snowy scene was replaced abruptly by a darker, more ominous atmosphere. A man, Marisa's right-hand man, rushed across the cold, hard ground toward the fallen blonde woman, shouting, "MY LADY!" The scene was tense, chaotic—wet, squelching sounds (SQUELCH SQUELCH SQUELCH) accompanied their movements, a grim reminder of the danger and violence that had occurred.
A thought flickered through the air, almost like a whispered revelation: HER ABILITY TO REGENERATE IS FAR SUPERIOR TO OTHER SHIFTERS, SINCE SHE HAS ABSORBED COUNTLESS OTHER POWERS. Slowly, impossibly, the woman began to RISE. The man's grim expression never wavered. "Have you finally woken up, ma'am?" he asked, his voice steady despite the grim scene. Dark energy seemed to radiate from her as she lifted her head, her eyes cold, calculating, but sharp with awareness.
Later, in a grand, richly decorated room of the Brion Kingdom, the recovered Marisa was greeted by a portly, jovial man—the King. "IT'S BEEN SO LONG, MARISSA!" he exclaimed, his laugh hearty and full of warmth.
Marisa, now elegantly dressed and composed, returned the greeting with a measured SMILE. "It has, Your Majesty," she said smoothly, adding with a subtle SMIRK, "I'M SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU AGAIN." Beneath her calm exterior, a hidden agenda lingered, a shadowed promise behind her perfect manners.
The King pulled her into a warm hug, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I'VE MISSED YOU? WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL THIS TIME?!"
Marisa remained composed, her thoughts sharp and unyielding: HE HASN'T CHANGED A BIT. THE LUSTFUL, GREEDY PIG. Aloud, she simply replied with practiced charm, "I HAVEN'T BEEN FEELING WELL, YOUR MAJESTY."
The King's eyes roamed over her attire, noting the scarf wrapped delicately around her neck. "YOU'VE EVEN GOT A SCARF AROUND YOUR NECK. YOU MUST'VE CAUGHT A TERRIBLE COLD. SHALL I CALL MY DOCTOR AND HAVE THEM PREPARE SOME MEDICINE FOR YOU?"
Marisa smiled sweetly, the edges of her lips curling with control. "THAT'S OKAY. I'M FEELING MUCH BETTER NOW," she said, maintaining her polished composure.
The King's gaze lingered, leering with a knowing GLANCE. "WELL THEN… HOW ABOUT WE SPEND SOME QUALITY TIME TOGETHER SINCE IT'S BEEN SO LONG?" He motioned toward a lavish bed, desire and expectation clear in his tone.
Marisa's mind seethed with disdain, but her voice remained light and playful: "OH, YOUR MAJESTY, YOU'RE SO CHEEKY." She stepped forward, the CLACK CLACK of her shoes echoing on the marble floor as she approached a grand, throne-like chair adorned with red roses. With a dramatic THUMP, she sat down.
"IN THAT CASE…" she began, her tone suggestive yet controlled, eyes locking on the King. "...CAN YOU DO ME A LITTLE FAVOR?"
The King's eyes widened, a heavy GULP escaping him. "OF COURSE, MARISSA. IF IT'S FOR YOU, I'LL DO ANYTHING."
He reached forward, his hand brushing against the black scarf around her neck. "But this scarf is a bit of an eyesore," he commented, desire and amusement mingling in his voice.
The Betrayal in Brion
The grand chamber of Brion Kingdom, once echoing with opulent laughter and the murmur of courtly affairs, now thrummed with tension. The King's eyes gleamed with anticipation, his fingers twitching as he reached toward Marisa. "It keeps covering your pretty face," he murmured, tugging at the black scarf that concealed the ghastly truth of her neck.
"Please wait, Your Majesty, it's—" Marisa began, but the warning was lost to the air. With a swift "SLIP," the scarf was torn free from her hands, revealing the shocking scar beneath.
A low, horrified "AHHHHH!" escaped her lips—not from pain, but from the sheer grotesqueness of what lay exposed. Where her head had once been severed and reattached, a dark, stitched scar pulsed with a heavy, ominous "DU-DUN," radiating a malignant presence that filled the room.
The King froze, horror contorting his features. His face glowed with a sinister purple light, the intensity of his rage reflecting in every twitch of his hands. Marisa, her demeanor cold and measured, gripped the scarf in her hand and snapped it sharply with a "SWISH." "UGH!" she grunted, testing the tension of the material, unflinching.
"M-MY MARISSA WOULD NEVER HAVE SUCH A HIDEOUS SCAR!" the King bellowed, fury and disgust twisting his voice. His face now radiated the dark purple glow of his shock and disbelief. "YOU REPULSIVE MONSTER! WHO ARE YOU?!"
Marisa's eyes, sharp and unyielding, met his with a chilling calm. "Stop your loud whining…" she commanded, the words slicing through the air like a blade.
"W-WHAT?" the King stammered, recoiling as a surge of dark energy enveloped her.
A powerful aura of deep blue erupted from Marisa, swirling with a frightening intensity accompanied by a sudden "FWOOOSH." Her eyes glowed with a terrifying light, and her presence became utterly overwhelming. Then, her voice, icy and full of authority, rang through the chamber:
"THE MARISSA YOU KNOW HAS ALWAYS BEEN A MONSTER, YOU FOOL."
Pain and fear flashed across the King's face. "ARGH!" he cried, scrambling in desperation. A flash of crimson light surrounded him as he lunged forward in a last-ditch attempt to strike, a desperate "RUSH" cutting through the chamber.
Marisa's dark power lashed out with terrifying precision. A blackened, shadowy hand shot toward him, attempting to "GRAB" him with inhuman strength. The King was thrown violently across the opulent floor, a deafening "SWISH" and "SLAM" announcing his impact. The metallic "CLACK CLACK" of his armor reverberated through the vast chamber, each sound echoing his helplessness.
A voice—half his, half the terror that consumed him—shouted in pure panic, "G-GET AWAY FROM ME!"
The confrontation escalated rapidly. A monstrous, shadowed arm extended from Marisa's aura, the motion accompanied by a gruesome "STAB." A cry of agony escaped the King: "URGH!" The chamber was filled with the sound of cracking armor and bone—"CRACK, CRACK"—mixed with the tearing of flesh, a grim symphony of violence.
Marisa's figure stood tall, silhouetted against the darkness she commanded, a pool of blood and shadow at her feet. A chilling "CRACK" and "CRUNCH" echoed as she—or the darkness surrounding her—consumed what remained of resistance. A dark, repulsive trail of blood ran down her chin, and yet her expression remained unshaken.
She paused briefly, wiping the blood from her mouth with a faint "SIGH," satisfaction curling in her cruel smile. "I should've done this sooner," she mused, her voice cold and unwavering.
Her eyes bore down on the King, who lay twisted in terror. A faint TSSSS emanated from her, a sound that seemed to draw the very life from the chamber.
"AS THE KING OF BRION…" Marisa began, her voice now deep, commanding, resonating with the power she had absorbed. The dark purple aura spiraled around her, oppressive and absolute. She looked down at the terrified, defeated man before her.
"...THE BRIONIAN ARMY IS MINE TO COMMAND AS I WISH."
The chamber fell silent, save for the faint echo of Marisa's words and the lingering "TSSSS" of dark energy. The transformation was complete—her dominion over Brion had begun.
Marisa had successfully seized command of the Brionian Army, her return marked not by reunion or diplomacy, but by domination and terror.