Silent roars of an omen.
The rumble of a thunderous sky.
Dark clouds rolled in and covered the sky with overcast. There is something insidious hanging in the air. Shadows loomed over the tall peak of the castle of Newarfa and it appeared lackluster in nature. Its golden sheen seemed to be amiss and the ground trembled, along with it everything stuck on the ground and it rocked the fear in her heart. Something was falling apart and she could feel it in her bones. But it all felt too real at the moment.
Suddenly a gush of forceful air swept through right above the ground. The rumbling was more significant now and the trees within the vicinity began to shake in unison. To the naked eye, it would appear to be a mere earthquake but the unrest in her heart told her otherwise. Something was being brought forth and she could feel the sense of destruction on her finger tips. They twitched with instinct. The rumble increased tremendously but gradually and a loud thud whooshed out into the cloud of sandstorm as the peak of Newarfa fell below several feet from its towering pedestal, the building having given away from the bottom. A small but impactful gasp leaves her mouth as she reveled at the sight in front of her.
Newarfa, the formidable castle
Newarfa is falling apart.
What was to be now?
She watched as the capital fell into ruin with the demolition of the main castle. A flight of birds screeches and flaps through the sky erratically. They can sense the danger in the air as well. What would happen now?
But wait for a bit. Her heart stills.
The scene is unmoving before her eyes. The castle peak at a distance, scuttling humans the size of ants as they scramble for their life. The sweeping dust that fogged the air and vision with its tiny brown grains. The foundation of Newarfa that continuously gave away with each passing minute
Is this real?
What was happening?
How did this come forth?
"Sorine." Her name flitted through the air.
Yes, her name. That was her name for sure. The least she remembered at the moment. She lived in Newarfa. She grew up in Newarfa and Eric. She remembered Eric. He was her soul, the very essence of her life. The reason she was alive and well. The only matter that mattered to her in this forever changing world. He was her lover, her friend, her confidant and her childhood. Her everything.
"Sorine."
Newarfa can't be falling apart.
"Sorine!"
This time the shrill edge of the voice managed to cut through and Sorine stumbled. She recognised the voice. It was Ila's voice. She jolted awake, looking around immediately.
The ruin of Newarfa.
The dust that blocked her vision.
The scuttling wings of the birds.
The fearful bloodied look on the scrambling humans.
Gone. All that is gone.
"Sorine!"
Her eyes zoomed and she inhaled, breaking out of her haze. Her eyeballs rove around her surroundings immediately, she is….
She is in the kitchen.
She looked left and right. Up and down. From one corner to the other. And she sighed. She was still in Newarfa and it was still intact.
That's right.
That must have only been a dream. That wasn't real.
That vision only came through to her after she had come in contact with the strange man in the dark hallway.
The rumored fourth prince.
What was he?
Why did he invoke such a disturbing image with a mere touch? Surely something heavier lies below the surface.
Sorine's eyes fell at the stinging glare she could feel prickling on her skin. She stiffened up immediately with tension and her shoulders raised in alarm.
But for now, she is facing Ila's deadly stare.
Oh dear.
She must have zoned out. She looked down and found that the wet dish in her grip had been dripping droplets on her espadrilles and it seeped into the shoe, into the sock layered underneath. She curled her toes in grim dislike. Meeting the fourth prince must be one of the most unfortunate events this week yet.
No wait.
Sorine deemed at that moment that she can't possibly say that. A lot has happened this week. Too much actually. Her relationship with Eric has uncovered its rotten and charred sides. It appears that it is not as perfect and solid as she believed it to be. At the very least she wished that it would have been as perfect as she reckoned in blind faith
She had been scrubbing up the wet dishes with a drying rag when a chill passed through the length of her spine and spread up her shoulders like wings spanning out. Slowly she dared to turn her gaze to her side, on her right.
Ila's sharp glare met her hesitant eyes and Sorine stiffened up with deliberation.
How long has she been standing there?
Sorine dipped her head down slowly,
"Greetings, Madam Supervisor."
"Tch!" A scorn twisted her face as Ila clicked her tongue in disapproval.
Sorine's shoulders went up in alarm. Oh dear. She would surely be punished. Would she be hit? Surely not, after long she reckoned that she didn't do anything wrong. Not a word left Ila's taut pulled mouth. Silently as the tension of her glare hung in the air, she slowly raised her hand and tapped on the metal rack stacked with dishes. Sorine's eyes helplessly followed her movements and she knew immediately where she had gone long.
Dread washed her out.
"Do you see as I do? Sorine?" She asked, pelting each word with sharp stress and gesturing over the dish racek
"Pardon me, Madam Supervisor." Sorine hurriedly tried to compensate for her grave lack of awareness and competence. She wouldn't have been so out of it if she had known that she would be sloppy in this little window of chance she had in making a space of her own in Newarfa. If she could, she would curse that mysterious man and his frightening vision. If only she knew where he was, she would have talked his ears out. Sorine swore that she had never been this listless until he came into view. Just once was enough to strike an earthquake through her senses. He felt...epic, imperial, grand. The air in the entire space surrounding seemed to be swirling around at her mercy and if he wished, it appears that he could knock the wind out of everyone within vicinity. What a powerhouse of a control he carried in that small space he spied upon her.
"Ahem!"
Sorine jolted to attention again. Damn her, what's wrong with her today? Truly! Enough about the fourth prince, there's more trouble at bay. She turned her eyes back to Ila's quivering finger poised near the dish rack. Dishes lay stacked on the rack but it had not been dried properly. It dripped with heavy droplets of water.
Yes, all this while and she thought that she had been wiping the washed dishes clean and dry when in fact she had been messing up the counter. Water dripped everywhere and it was truly a mess around her.
"Get your useless mind straight, Sorine! Is this how a maid carries her duties out? Straighten your back and quickly get to work! How messy and vile! Truly worthless of a girl, aren't you?"
"My deepest apologies, Madam Supervisor."
Ila's eyes dropped down and yet again upwards, the derogatory sheen twinkling in her eyes.
"Remember to set the dishes out in the sun. You know that everyone has to be aware of dirt and poison, it is a highly crucial week."
"Yes," She bowed again, "Madam Supervisor."
Ila talked as if she would turn and stalk away immediately but no. She didn't move a leg, or a muscle even after she finished her short lecture. She simply stood, arms crossed and she stared straight at Sorine with eagle eyes. Nervous ticks wrecked through Sorine's body and she moved her limbs as though she had just learned how her body worked but what mattered is that while Ila watched over, Sorine moved. She thoroughly wiped the bowl until it was dry and shining. Awkwardly, she glanced at Ila who was still staring at her. Ila jerked her chin at her sharply.
"Continue."
Even though she had sharp eyes trained on her movements, Sorine went on diligently, retrieving each and every piece of the dishes that lay soaking wet on the rack. She wiped each and every one of them until it squeaked from vigorous rubbing. Ila must hold no trust in her actions or reliability because she stood, properly made sure that every dish once shone with droplets reflecting the light was wiped clean and dry. When Sorine turned in the last dish back into the rack, Ila gave her one last critically assessing look over Sorine before she turned and strutted off, away from Sorine and out of the kitchen. As soon as she left, the kitchen aroused with hushed murmurs once again. Some of them dared to glance at Sorine and whispered behind her back but yet, none of them dared to come up to talk to her. None of the maids dares to commit any act that would lead to anything familial with her; they wouldn't dare befriend her. Not especially after the incident, it had turned her into the enemy of the workers and maids in the castle of Newarfa.
Sorine went on quietly, wiping the dishes and frigidly ignoring the whispers, the stilted looks casted on her back. All Sorine could think of yet again was the man she met yesterday and the impression he purposely left on her. The vision that he had spurred on inside her. What was that being? Why did she sense a dark aura around that prince and sinister waves from his being? What was he doing out watching the interaction between her and Eric? Would he tell on them to the king?
She almost drifted off the distant land of thoughts. Almost. But just then, the harsh clink of a tray hitting the marble counter beside her echoed sharply and brought all the attention to itself.
She turned in surprise and her eyes fell immediately on an untouched set of dinner plating. Stew, soup, bread and all the meat left without a trace of touch. She looked up. Mary stood all in her five foot two glory and huffed out a greatly frustrated breath.