Sheila closed her eyes and sobbed silently as she tossed the red rose on the coffin of her mother. There were several people that showed, in ranks of nobility, even the Dukedom granted her mother their presence.
Everyone had disappeared but she; rain was now pouring down calmly over the skies, the cold December rain before winter. She stared at the far distance at the tomb of her mother, and then, her blurry gaze slowly eased as she noticed a familiar figure of a boy, way taller than she is now, clad in a cloak as dark as night. The grief and the gloom matched the striking appearance of this boy.
He had a familiar platinum-blond hair, and distinct sapphire blue eyes. Sheila immediately recognized who these features belonged to. Their gaze met, eyes locking to each other.
A childhood friend. The unfortunate boy she hadn't seen in years.
"I am king now." He mouthed, and she heard. His voice was empty against the rain and the distance, yet she heard him. A voice that sounded foreign, sounded new.
"Noah."
He smiled warmly, and then he positioned his index finger parallel to his lips, telling her a gesture of silence.
He slowly walked towards her. His steps were in sync with her heartbeat; echoing with pain at every second.
"I am sorry for your loss."
Sheila bowed gracefully. "Glory upon the Feuersturm Empire."
The king smiled. "Sheilalev."
"I wonder which loss are you talking about, Your Majesty. Is it my father's or my mother's?"
The king smiled warmly. "You did not lose Julian."
"He disappeared into the Continental Cliff." Sheila gritted her teeth. "All in search for the cure for 'Nightmare'... all in search for your cure... and now my mother is dead because of grief... all because of..." She stopped and then clenched her fist.
Noah tilted his head. "Are you mad at me, Sheilalev?"
Sheila blinked.
The king adjusted his height in par with hers, bending a bit. "Do you loathe me now?"
Sheila stared, battling with his gaze. Her golden eyes were the same as Julian's.
"I hate you, King Alexander."
**
Sheila closed her eyes as the photographic magic disappeared. Bethrion Feuerlon stared, dumbfounded. Lucas and all the others were lost in thought, frozen in sheer astonishment. They found no words to mutter. Sheila showed the disappearance of the Head Mage, Julian Ortfalcon, and the king being sustained by her magic ever since.
"It has been eleven years since my father, the Head Mage, disappeared in search for the king's cure. It is said that the cure can be found in the continental cliff; a Heilen. Deep within the Endless Forest."
"The Endless Forest is below the continental cliff. There is no way he could come back..."
"I know." Sheila says. "And he never did, Duchess."
The Duchess remained silent, and then lowered her gaze.
"Now that you showed us these stories, what is the purpose?" Orwell asks. "I am confused, Priestess. You are saying that you will unmask a conspiracy, but I am afraid I am not getting the whole picture."
The others seemed to agree.
Sheila smiled. "Didn't I say that Faustina will go to the academy... Magierstadt? There is another purpose to it. Didn't you see Maria Unsterblich in the photographic illusion I showed?"
"The former head." Orwell says. "She was replaced with her sister, Anna Unsterblich Desfiegro due to her being sick."
"That is right." Sheila answers. "But there is a theory that Maria Unsterblich was not sick, but is actually in league with the Forsaken."
"Th-that's!"
"It is possible." Sheila says. "We considered it as a possibility. We followed numerous leads for the past ten years and they all led to Magierstadt."
"I doubt it. What would Magierstadt gain in harboring a killer? There is nothing."
"He is her mother."
"Who showed no compassion!" Orwell argues. "We all know that, Sheilalev."
"Even so, a possibility is a possibility."
"That is dismissed by the Court itself. The lead is nothing but preposterous, Priestess." Lucas exclaims. "Even I shall say this is a ridiculous claim. Magierstadt will not engage in such trivial matters. There is no way that a Magic academy will try to be hostile to Feuersturm... no, the Zuerst continent itself."
"That is a possibility that the king is willing to consider." Sheila answers. "The Unsterblichs originated from Zweite. A theory was formed by chosen Clairvoyants from Zuerst, myself included, how Magierstadt may be trying to overthrow Feuersturm... no, the continent itself."
The knights remained unresponsive, their faces stoic and observant. Except for the man with a puple hair, Lorenz Schmidt, who was apparently smiling, as if amused.
"Preposterous!" Says Lucas. "I cannot listen to such farce. You are dirtying the name of our second home, Priestess!"
"I am not."
"You are, in fact." Orwell agrees.
The entirety of the throne room echoed with throes of disapproval and whispers that spoke of anxiety and confusion. The Duke stood amidst the perplexity, eyeing the Priestess who was smiling calmly over such mayhem.
"There is a saying that the continental cliff is filled with magics from Magierstadt itself. They say that Magierstadt may be the roots of evil..."
"Priestess."
Silence.
A piercing voice, an authoritative air.
"Duke Feuerlon,"
The Duke eyed her with suspiscion. "What is it that you want us to do?"
"Ah, yes." Sheila says. "The king wants you all to cooperate in a guise that we will design. The king wants you, the Feuerlon family, to make Faustina your heir."
Bethrion opened his mouth to argue, but then the Duke's gaze stopped him.
"And why do we have to do that?"
"Faustina Heilen will study under Magierstadt with a mission to fulfill. That mission is only known to us, the Masterminds. And your duty is to aid the king and that girl... so the conspiracy will not be revealed. We must act as the king's COVER."
"So you are saying that we should mask this... conspiracy." The Duke narrowed his emerald eyes. "And to what purpose did you show us such memories? Why did you tell us that story?"
Sheila smiled.
"Because we will forge fake memories."
"F-fake memories?" Orwell asks. "Do you mean..."
"Yes."
"You cannot be serious." Lucas Feuerlon mutters, his eyes widening.
"What does this mean?" The Duchess asks.
"This means we shall alter your memories." Sheila says. "We will create new memories for you, and you shall live by them."
"Th-that means..."
"You will be offering your very own lives, your souls," Sheila smiles. "For the glory of Feuersturm Empire."