Encountering danger in the streets near the royal family's household was only the beginning of Stitch's troubles. Returning home didn't bring her the relief she hoped for.
Chiaki accompanied her, hoping they could slip back unnoticed, but their luck ran out. Stitch's absence from dinner had already caused concern, and someone had gone to check her room.
At the front door stood Damien, his arms crossed with a mix of disappointment and irritation. His stern expression left no room for excuses.
"Stitch!" His voice echoed through the quiet district before softening into a calmer, more controlled tone. "We were worried sick. Do you remember our agreement? I've told you countless times not to sneak out at night, especially without permission. It's far too dangerous, and you missed our guests' dinner as well."
Stitch's heart sank under the weight of his words. She knew she had broken the rules, and her actions had caused unnecessary concern. But she couldn't stop herself from trying to explain.
"I just wanted to see Pippin and Nia," she began, her voice pleading. "Their family is struggling—they're running out of food and warm clothes. I only wanted to help—"
Damien cut her off with a sharp, authoritative tone. "No excuses. I've heard that from you too many times. If you want to help them, do it during the day, not in the dead of night. Now, go to your room and hand over the key to your window."
Frustrated and embarrassed, Stitch reached into her pocket, pulled out the key, and tossed it into Damien's hand before storming inside, her irritation clear in every step.
Chiaki watched the entire exchange silently, standing by as Damien turned to address her. His tone shifted to one of gratitude, though the weight of the situation lingered.
"Thank you, Chiaki, for finding her and keeping her safe. I'm sorry you got pulled into this. Dinner is over now, but I hope you didn't miss too much."
Chiaki nodded, maintaining her composure. As she turned to leave, her thoughts remained on Stitch and the weight of the rules that bound her.
As Chiaki stepped back into the household, she noticed the dining table had been cleared. The food was gone, the dishes wiped clean—everything had already been taken care of by the family.
Shanya's eyes landed on Chiaki, her brow furrowing for a moment before she strolled over. "Didn't expect ya to be out there, Chiaki. What happened? You look like you got caught up in somethin', and Stitch was mumblin' to herself headin' back upstairs. What'd you two get into?" She asked with a concerned tilt of her head, her usual teasing tone replaced with genuine curiosity.
Chiaki sighed, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. "We... tried to go for a walk, but I didn't realize she wasn't allowed out at night. Now she's probably grounded. Things kinda went sideways." Her gaze drifted toward the staircase, her mind still on Stitch heading upstairs.
Shanya gave a small chuckle. "Where's the rest of the buds?" Chiaki asked, hoping to shift the subject.
"They're upstairs," Shanya said casually, giving a lazy shrug. "Probably gettin' ready to crash. I took care of the dishes since I didn't have anythin' else to do tonight. Figured I'd get a little warm-up before bed."
At the farthest edge of Gesyer Island, where the Frostpire Heights loomed over the city, Hush and Echo carried Yumiko up a wooden staircase leading to a secluded mountainside town. She lay limp on an invisible sled they dragged behind them, her body hidden from view as the poison coursing through her veins left her weak and unresponsive.
The moon hung high in the night sky, its silver light casting a soft glow over the snowy landscape. In three days, it would be full, its brilliance illuminating the entire island. For now, the snow was mercifully light, allowing the mimics to press on without major hindrance.
When they reached the steepest part of the climb, Hush hoisted Yumiko onto his shoulder, carrying her the rest of the way. Her body slumped lifelessly against him, unmoving, a grim reminder of her fragile state. Though unconscious, her faint breath indicated she was still clinging to life.
Meanwhile, at the base of the mountain, Aurora and May stood staring up at the winding path. The mimics had taken the road ahead, and their destination was a mystery. Aurora clenched her fists, her thoughts racing. "Where are they taking her? That place has to be dangerous, right?" she asked, her voice trembling as she fought to steady herself.
May, now back in her human form, glanced at the treacherous path before them. "I don't know, but standing around isn't going to help. We can't just wait and see. I can't carry you up there—it's too narrow. We'll have to climb it ourselves."
Aurora didn't hesitate, determination flashing in her eyes. She started up the mountain, her urgency palpable. "Then let's hurry! Yumiko's in danger, and we can't waste any more time!"
As midnight struck, a distant bell tolled softly over Cascade Cradle, its chime carried on the wind like a ghostly hymn. The shimmering moonlight scattered across the city, caught in the currents of the cold night breeze.
Far beyond the bustling streets, the dark castle of Geyser Island stood like a sentinel, hidden deep within the forest. Shrouded in thick fog, it loomed over the land, its spires cutting into the moonlit sky. The bell's mournful song resonated from its highest tower, a herald of something far more ominous.
Within the castle's shadowed halls, a man with flowing black hair that curled elegantly down his back stood before an assembly. Draped in a dark cloak, his crimson and sapphire eyes glowed like pools of fire and ice. He turned to face the crowd, a sinister smile curling his lips.
"It's a wondrous night," he began, his deep voice commanding attention, "a night to mark the beginning of our ascension." He gestured to the moon, its silvery light filtering through the castle windows. "For too long, we Vesperians have remained hidden, caged within the outside shadows of Cascade Cradle, forced to slumber while the humans ruled over us."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the gathered faces. "But no more. In three days, the full moon will grace the heavens, and with it, our power will awaken in its truest form. We shall rise as one, casting aside the shackles of secrecy. This land—this beautiful, vibrant land—will become ours. No longer will we skulk in the darkness, banished to the fringes. We will take what is rightfully ours and claim the throne of this world!"
The crowd murmured in agreement, their anticipation building as he continued.
"Our blood carries the legacy of strength and dominance. The humans fear us because they know, deep down, that we are superior. And they should fear us! For when the moon reaches its zenith three nights from now, we will strike with the fury of generations past." His voice grew louder, more fervent. "We will turn their cities into monuments of our power. Their skies will bear witness to our triumph, and their rivers will run red with the price of their hubris."
He raised a hand, the shadows in the room twisting unnaturally at his command. "Prepare yourselves, my brothers and sisters. Let the coming days be a time of preparation and reflection. Ready your bodies, sharpen your minds, and steel your hearts, for the night of reckoning is near."
The man turned back to the moon, his voice dropping to a whisper that carried through the hall. "And when it comes, the world will remember the name Vesperian. They will tremble beneath our reign."
He clenched his fist, and the shadows surged, dancing in the eerie light of the moon. "This is not just a conquest. This is destiny."
To be continued...