PRESENT DAY,

She is running for her life,

Through the tunnel, pass the crowd, into the alley way,

Hoping to outrun the karma, but he already appeared before her,

In his black suit, short blond hair, and flaring golden eyes, she was already dead before she knew. Bleeding on the inside untouched, her body tear by itself, all her organ crawls down to the floor with him watching every drop of blood falls without missing any of her agonies. His waits are rewarded with a black grim escape from her carcass and he pulls a magical gold spear from the air onto his right hand, aiming towards the grim but the grim outsmarts him by diving down into every pore of the ground beneath them. The blond-haired man curses, without actually muttering the word. He couldn't stop it from leaving and that stress the man. He looks for trails and manages to find the traces it left, he hides his sword from the mortal world, and determination returns to his eyes. He tends to follow the trace but stops for a moment at the sound of agony from his side. He gives a last soft look at the dead body, which now, evaporates into steam, and he prays in silent, there's remorse and a slight self-blame in his gaze. Then, he rushes following the black smoke on the earth's faces.

His gold eyes follow the line of the street, and he bumps into many things. The door, the streetlight, and the crowds, including Horace's hand, caused the black-haired woman to spill her hot coffee all over her white shirt, a few parts of her brown blazer, and wet most of her black tailored trousers. "Hey!! Watch it!!" Horace yells and glares at the empty street with mix-up thoughts, there's no one. There's not even a trace of the blond as if he just vanishes. Horace's eyes broaden and stare at the empty sidewalk, puckering her lips. Her eyes blink more than twice, "Ah…?" Horace utters, rubbing the back of her neck,

"Horace!! Here!" A voice calls for her and Horace turns her head over her shoulder, a familiar guy with a green eye waving his hand, running towards her. He is wearing his usual sweater, but he looks great in her eyes and she curses remembering her state,

"Hey, Phoebe, You are early," Horace says wiping the coffee stain off her hand,

He giggles "I can't be missing my best friend's first solo exhibition." He says, fixing his hair as if he needs to, but Horace likes it messy, "Are you alright?" He asks,

"I spilled my coffee on me." She pouts,

"Jeez, Horace, I wonder why am I not surprised." He says and she glares, he swallows his saliva thinking of his life at the stake, "Well if you hate it so much, Why don't you go home and get change? I'll wait for you at the gallery." He says,

"I can't go home. My apartment is three miles away from the gallery and I can't leave my art work unattended. What if someone is planning to sabotage it?" Horace says,

"I get it, my-so-skepticism-friend. But you already hired two curators for your artwork, they know how to do their jobs. And you are so scary by default, I'm sure no one dares to mess with you." He says, Horace gives him a pout, and he sighs in defeat seeing her cute pouts, "Or if you hate to leave so much, I can just buy you a new cloth—there are plenty of cloths store nearby." He adds before sliding his arm around her shoulder and she tenses up at the casual glides, "You know what! That's a good idea, I've been wanting to buy something good for you." He continues, before pulling Horace towards the nearest store.

"Do you even have money?" She asks following his step into the entrance, "You barely make living by selling off your comic." She adds and he snickers,

"It is a manga, not a comic. Also, I got lucky, so, there's nothing for you to worry about." He says in a proud tone before hovering a pink dress under her chin and she tilts her head in responds, "It's cute but not you." He says,

"What do you mean?" She utters,

"I meant the dress is cute but not you, like you—you." He says.

"No—I meant; you said you got lucky?" She asks,

"Oh, yes!" He utters before picking more pairs of trousers and blazer for Horace, "I meet this producer and he wants to invest in my story. He even hired assistance for me, a very beautiful one." He explains, her eyes raddle to his descriptions,

"Beautiful…?" She utters and her gaze falls to the floor, "You have never used those words to describe anyone before, not even your mother." She reminds,

"Of course, I told you, the word is reserved for my future wife." He says and she swallows hard before lifting her eyes to meet his, she understands now what is he trying to tell her, and he seems to be looking forward to her reaction, and she hopes to give him the best one,

"I feel bad for her." She says and he smiles,

"Hey! Carefully with your word, my lady, I can rip your best-woman title in this instance." He adds and her eyes open wider, she feels love shower on her head,

"You are full of surprises today, Phoebe." She says, Phoebe smiles,

"And my best woman needs a change," Phoebe says before passing the new cloth to her, and pushing Horace towards the changing room while he pays for the clothing.

Horace walks out from the dressing room, and Phoebe gave her a thumbs up, approving her new cloth. She wears a black tux, and black sneakers, and ties her short black-hair in a ponytail, exposing her tanned neck. She loves the androgynous style; she feels self-assured by it and Phoebe knew her too well for that. They both enter the gallery together; Phoebe helps her to greet and attends to their collogues and guest. It is almost like the old time, Horace felt thankful to have him by her side but time are not on their side. Phoebe has to leave early and Horace didn't want to hold the busy man for so long. They have grown up, from college until now, although it has been seven years, they have known each other, they now live a different life and it is the reason Horace never confess her feeling, she has wanted to stay like that for a long time but the other doesn't feel the same.

"I'm so sorry, you don't have to accompany me," Phoebe says,

"Just go," Horace says and Phoebe titters,

Horace watches the man get in his car and starts his engine, she still waits for him and he rolls the window to bid his farewell, "If you don't hate it so much, I will see you again, Horace." Phoebe said with a grin, and Horace meets his gaze,

"I don't hate it," Horace says, and Phoebe nods. He turned his wheels and pass the last glance to Horace before pressing the pedal as it pushes the car through the afternoon sky, leaving Horace to watch the black car until it become tiny and disappeared from view. Just like the first time they met, he left her with something to pounder.

"—Well, that is an exhibition." A familiar voice snaps Horace from her melancholy thought, and Horace quickly directs her gaze to meet the familiar woman. She is a few centimeters taller than Horace. She has long brunette hair, pale white skin and natural make up. A very stunning-looking woman, Horace almost couldn't recognize her.

"Excuse me?" Horace asks,

"It's been a while, older sister." The woman says with a soft unintentional grin,

"Ciana?!" Horace asks and energy return to her body,

Horace opened her arm wide reaching for a hug but Ciana quickly flicks Horace's forehead, earning a groan from the older, "Na-uh, shorty, public display affection is not my penchant." Ciana says and Horace puckers her brow in confuse rubbing her bruise forehead,

"It is just a hug! I'm your older sister!" Horace rants,

"I'm aware, but I would like to keep our sibling-ship private." Ciana says and Horace frowns hard at the nonsense, "But as you can see, we are in the public." She adds, Horace, rolls her eyes before reaching for the hug and catching the taller arm off-guard. Ciana, for instance, lift the older off the ground by her shoulder and threw the weakling to the floor, out of habit, causing Horace to groan at the pain struck on her backbone.

"Ouch!" Horace utters,

"Oh, my god!!—I'm so, so, sorry!" Ciana apologies,

It is quiet and awkward. Horace is in a daze in the situation. She stays on the ground and looks to the sky, wondering why did is she even bother to wake up this morning? She got lost in the thought that her little sister, Ciana, shoulder-throw her on the ground because of a hug. The little sister that Horace remembers is always been a girly girl who hates violence…but then again, they haven't met for almost five years now, and people could change.

"Sis, are you alright? I'm so sorry. My body just moves on its own. Let me help you." Ciana explains and pulls Horace off the ground and made Horace stand up out of her will. Horace's body tensed, by the force, but Ciana keep squishing her shoulder and Horace feel her body going to be split apart by the strong massage, Ciana have become very strong, too strong, like—a barbaric strong, Horace slide away soon as she sees an opening,

"Stop—" Horace says pushing the taller away, "You are going to kill me," Horace says,

"Ugh, you are dramatic as always." Ciana rolls her eyes,

Horace unstrained the twist she feels on her back before making her more distant from the taller, she is weirded, Ciana seems different than the last time they meet. "What—are you doing here?" Horace asks and Ciana sighs,

"To see you, of course, mom said you are hosting an exhibition and that I should support you as a good little sister do," Ciana says and Horace nods,

"I see," Horace says,

"Also, mom, ask me to bring you home." Ciana says, "Jeez, sis, even if you are busy, you could have made time to pay our parents a visit, they miss you and—." Ciana complains,

"Spare the nag, Ciana, I already have a bad day." Horace's words hover over Ciana's, "I'm coming home with you, right? There's no need the talk." Horace continues, and Ciana smiles, or more like an evil grin to Horace,

"Is it because your boyfriend left you?" Ciana teases,

"No!" Horace says, her voice louder than before and Ciana filches to the tone, Horace notices her emotions overflow, and clearer her throat, "…Phoebe is not my boyfriend." Horace said in a lower tone, before giving Ciana a hesitated glance and leaving the puzzled woman to ponder, Ciana snaps afterthought and track Horace's steps,

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ciana asks, following the older sister into the gallery and helping Horace attends to the guest, "If you ask me, I think, it is better that way than getting a heart break." Ciana say mirroring Horace's movement, keeping their distance—close,

"I don't want to talk about it." Horace says before flashing a smile towards a familiar guest, and the guest gives her the same gesture, "—especially, not now. Can you see I am busy?" Horace whispers between her teeth and Ciana groans,

"Come on sis, if we don't talk now, we won't talk about it ever," Ciana says,

"That's better," Horace says and paces towards a tilted artwork before fixing the position. Ciana groans, her step becoming stomping now, she maybe tall but she is still the baby in the family. Although, Horace felt no reason to attend to Ciana's immature distress,

"Fine, whatever—So, when is this exhibition ending?" Ciana asks,

"About an hour, why?" Horace asks,

"Good because I don't want to stay in the gallery any longer than I should." Ciana says and Horace tilts her head, "It's giving me a bad vibe." Ciana adds,

"What do you mean bad vibe?" Horace asks,

"That artwork could be a start," Ciana says, she points at the artwork between Horace's holds and Horace took a step back to see the painting clearer. It is an image of a woman, murdered in her bathtub, and Horace giggles, before giving Ciana a downturns smile,

"It is art," Horace explains,

"Yeah, that's not going to cut it," Ciana says before walking in the direction of the exit now, Horace is the one following after Ciana's wider step,

"It's an art!" Horace explains, "It has nothing to do with anything, I'm not a psychopath. I got it from inspirations—" Horace adds and Ciana gives her the judging looks,

"I don't care." Ciana says, "I'm leaving and I am going see you at home in two hours, understood?" Ciana continues and Horace exhales in defeat, "By the way, it's my birthday— we are having a party at home, a small one, a birthday girl should be there earlier than anybody." Ciana adds and Horace's eyes pixelate,

"Oh, damn…" Horace utters,

"Yeah, I have been waiting for birthday wishes, you use to give me the earliest—I thought you were dead or something," Ciana says and Horace feel tickles in her stomach,

"I forgot about it…Were you waiting?" Horace says,

"Shut up," Ciana says before walking towards the exits,

"Happy birthday little sister~" Horace yells, causing the taller to speed up her step from the embarrassment to come. Horace releases a loud laugh, satisfy by her tease.

Horace turns back towards her gallery and continues to host, she meets and greets a lot of people, explaining her art, and inspiring young artists with her thoughts. Although art wasn't her dream, to begin with, somehow it is something she is good at ever since she is born. It was there as if it is a part of her, and it became something she pursue. And if she could choose her profession with the talent, she rather works like Phoebe. Drawing comic-or-manga, and building a fandom, sounded fun but she never knew it was an option when she took the class. The teachers have been a bad influence on her for calling cartoons as not-art.

"What inspires you to be an artist, may I ask?" A question from one of the students catches Horace off-guard, and Horace's eyes stare long at the space for a few scary-beat.

"To be honest, I'd love to think, in my sense, an artist is born—they are not made and the actual question should be, 'what inspired you to be a none artist'?" Horace says, and the crowd applauds well-spoken words. She smiles but regrets her answers like she always does,

—⁜⁜⁜⁜⁜⁜—

Horace walks past three gift shops, and a few other stores, and starts sighing twice every five minutes, "I wonder what she likes… should I buy her books? Always books…Why can I be more creative?" Horace mumbled on the road heading towards the underground, "How about chocolate? No, no, a pretty girl like her probably got a lot of chocolate gifts. She probably sicks off it. How about a new phone?" Horace continues, and stopped at a phone store, she stares at the price and starts shaking her head, "Nope." Horace utters and continued climbing down the staircase and paying for a train ticket, and waiting for a train on the bench, "Should I just give her money…?" Horace thought to herself, "That's a terrible idea." She adds, and the train comes, she picks herself up and heads to the yellow line, but before she could enter the train, someone grabs her arm and pulls her strongly. She stops all her movement, and caught in the middle of the door, between the train and the floor,

It is an old woman. She has white long messy hair and pure grey eyes, she is wearing a black hooded cloak and holding a basket filled with red apples, Horace grips her step tightly and tried to balance herself in the confusing situation. She can't just snatch her hand away, well, she could but she doesn't have the heart to do so. "Young woman." An old woman speaks,

"Oh, I'm not that young but thank you~," Horace says, and tried to pull her hand away from the old woman's grip but the old woman is quite strong than she looks,

"I overheard. You are looking for a gift." The old woman says, "I have just what you looking for, and you won't regret it." The old woman continues and Horace heard a whistle from the security guy alarming her. 'Why does this scene seem familiar?', Horace thinks to herself, and rests her other hand on the door frame, hoping it could stop it, if it closes,

"Creating haste on the potential customer, smart move." Horace compliments,

"And you would be wise to spare me seconds." The old woman says, Horace revises her situation before swallowing her spit,

"You got three," Horace says,

"A honey apple, the rarest apple in the world. It is a morning snack of the royal family for hundreds of years. One bite and it would melt on your tongue, I can assure you, whoever receives this would be gladfully. Plus, if you buy this, you don't have to think about a gift anymore or if you want to buy it for yourself, I'm sure you won't regret it. I only have seven apples left, if you skip this, you might never get it until the next harvest, which is the next five years." The old woman says in one breath and shows her beautiful apples in the basket,

"Wow." Horace was amazed by the woman's talent, "So, how much is it?" Horace asks,

"Ten bucks each." The old woman says,

"That's expensive!" Horace groans,

"It's expensive for reasons." The old woman says,

"Seven bucks." Horace haggles,

"Nine." The old woman haggles back, and the train alarm screams, and the guard now running towards them, Horace snatches out her wallet from her pocket,

"Eight and I'll take all," Horace says, gives sixty bucks to the old woman, and takes the basket. The old woman smiles from ear to ear, as she lets go of Horace's hand, "Keep the change." Horace says with a wink and the woman nods,

"Thank you, child." The old woman says,

The door finally closed and the train moves, Horace quickly find a seat, ignoring the people staring at her for making a scene. She put the basket on her thigh and begin sweeping the dirt off the old rattan basket, getting the nature scent off. She exhales in relief to know that she can finally rest her mind, and lean comfortably on the seat,

Meanwhile;

In a place, somewhere beyond the horizon of the end of two oceans, lies a door into the cities of five continents, five territories. United by the ground holding the nations together, but separated by deathly walls from each nation, to protect, to attack, always either and never both. The blond-haired man in the suit appears from the wind and entered a free property between the two-nation entrance. He glances at a wing statue before turning his body towards the book statue. He approaches the Book statue entrance and two guards wearing long blue capes, with a hood, covering half of the top part of their faces, appear out of nowhere and immediately block the blonde man way from their nations. The two guard looks the same, like a mirror, the only noticeable difference is their mole's positions,

"You are stepping on the Liber's territories. we are pretty sure the Quinlin's Kingdoms is the other way." One of the guards with a mole on the bottom of his lips says,

"I'm not heading there. I am, to visit the Liber Kingdom." The blond man says,

"Show us your yéwno." The guards said in unison,

"I have no binder..." The blond man said, lifting his head, showing his glowing golden eyes, and the two guards took a step back after recognizing the person they are dealing with,

"Prince Julien, we are completely aware that our kingdom is allied, but you can't simply enter without any annotations from a Yéwno." One of the guards says, and the other guard, with a mole on the top of his lips, stands forward giving a signal to the latter to stand back from making a haste decision that could cause racket between their kingdoms,

"Forgive me, for his behavior. He must have eaten spoiled food today." The other guard says and the blonde man sighs, "Our kingdoms have been allies for millions of years and we have fought side by side, like paper and pen, of course, we are honored to accept your visits. But mind if we properly announce your arrival to the whole kingdom. I am sure, our King Lucius would want to meet you." The other guard adds,

"No, I'm not here to visit the king," Julien sighs before pulling out a gold necklace with a golden diamond from his pocket, "I also, don't want anyone to know about my visit." He adds, before offering the gold necklace to the guard, "I don't want an unnecessary party or bouquet, especially, not today, but here… take this." Julien says,

"Isn't this The Mundare necklace?" The guard says, and receives the necklace,

"I bought it while I'm on a mission today, can you do me a favor?" Julien asks,

"Speak of the favor first." The guard asks,

"Give this to the King's advisor," Julien says,

"The king's advisor?" The guard sounds shocked,

"I heard it is her birthday today," Julien says,

"What is your relationship to her?" The guard asks,

"I have no relationship with her, I'm just a secret admirer and you should be wise to keep it that way," Julien says before flashing his threatening golden eye at the guards,

"We will do as we are told." One of the guards says,

"Thank you," Julien says before leaving the free property and routs to the opposite kingdom, his kingdom, a kingdom with a golden wing statue in the middle of the entrance, he leaves the two-guard staring at each other, dumbfounded by the prince odd and unexpected behaviors. A bit risky for his reputation, Julien's father might say,

Soon as the prince steps into the entrance of his lands, his human disguise transformed into a golden suit's armor covering tightly from his neck to his toe. His golden spear unravels to his right-hand grip, and his golden eyes shine brighter like the sun. He took a glance at the other kingdom and the two guards already disappeared. His eyes falter. A noticeable blush appears from his porcelain cheeks and he paces towards his golden city, which is decorated with soldiers in military green armor marching around the gold bar cityscape, heading towards a sharp arrow-shaped castle that awaits in the middle of the nation. Whereas he called…

Home,

After hours of snoozing on the bullet trains, Horace finally arrived at her family home, located in the rural settlement, where everything is more natural than humans. Her buttock strained after a long ride and she decides to walk down the street on her feet. Many kind villagers offer her a ride along the way but she turns them all down due to the straining ache she felt on her tail bone. She arrives at the front door before the twilight and greets the two familiar old faces with a hug, "Mom, Dad, I'm home~" She said, squishing her parent tightly,

"Welcome home, sweetheart." The mother says,

"You couldn't even call us?" The father complains,

"I'm sorry, I have bad reception at my apartment," Horace says,

"Fimble-famble." The father says, and Horace giggles like a child,

Horace pulls herself away from her parent when she sees a pair of legs approaching them. Ciana, has a pout stuck on her face and Horace knows exactly why. Horace gives Ciana a weak smile and parted lips to greet the beauty but something flashes to her eyes and she turns away for a second before taking a peek. It is a reflective light from a golden necklace with a gold diamond on Ciana's neck. It is blinding but it does enhance Ciana's beauty more and Horace's jaw almost drops looking at her sister, "You are late, sis." Ciana says,

"And—new necklaces, suit you well, Ciana," Horace says, celebrating the beauty in front of her, Horace is never the one to hide her appreciation towards beauty.

"You are forgiven. And I thought so too, it's real gold and quite heavy too." Ciana says, "The person who gave this must have great taste." Ciana adds,

"I'm sure he has, he given it to you, right?" Horace teases and Ciana giggles,

The father groans, "Quit flirting you two."