This is my first time writing, just random ideas that popped into my head—a bit tacky (I actually wrote this two years ago but deleted it because it felt too adolescent). Elementary school writing skills here. If teachers have any feedback, feel free to comment.
Warning: This story involves coercion, drug use, and hypnosis. Reader discretion advised.
Sotori Calendar 3257In the dimly lit room, amber liquor swayed gently in crystal glasses as candlelight stretched their shadows across the floor. Aquia leaned back in his chair, a drunken smile playing on his lips, yet his eyes remained sharp. “To us—to our unshakable pact. Cheers.”
The young officer did not raise his glass. His fingers gripped the stem, silence hanging heavy.
“The treaty is clear: you supply me with resources, I aid you in war.” He looked up, a bitter smile touching his lips. “You wouldn't... break it, would you, sir?”
Aquia laughed, leaning back into his chair. “Aloy,you worry too much. Our partnership has always been about mutual benefit. Should you face troublesome complications in the future...”
He raised his empty glass, swirling it. “I'll be your sharpest blade.”
Alecto swallowed hard. “...I hope so.”
Sotori Calendar 3260
When they met again, Alekto looked weathered by hardship. After exchanging few pleasantries, he cut straight to the point, his voice hoarse: “Aquia, I need your help.”
“For the Empire to swallow its pride and ask for aid, the price must be steep.”
“Vudorein's infantry has breached our lines. Tepolis is ravaged by earthquake and plague—the dead number beyond reckoning.” The officer gripped his cup, his fingers threatening to crush it. “Our grain holds out for half a month at most...”
The candle crackled. Aquia stared at the rising steam, his gaze sharp as a hunter spotting prey. “So you want to team up with me to take down the Mother of All Things?”
He stood up. “I'm still considering it! But I can't offer any decent reward right now.”
“Reward?” Aquia leaned in abruptly, his sleeve brushing Alec's hand. “Your very existence is my greatest asset.” He held up three fingers. “In three days, my army will reach the Asaran border. As for Caden's Reg...”
Hot breath brushed his ear, carrying the scent of spirits. “I'll personally handle it for you.”
The youth scanned his eyes for a crack but found none. “When do we sign?”
“Tomorrow at eight.”
“Deal.” Aquia raised his whiskey glass, ice clinking sharply against the crystal. “May our partnership... be long and steadfast.”
Two glasses met with a crisp clink. He drained his drink. “Happy collaboration.”
The youth watched as the man before him, escorted by several bodyguards, bent to enter the car. His figure gradually vanished into the distance, disappearing from sight.
“Ilya, tell me the time,” he asked a young aide beside him.
“Reporting, Your Excellency. It is 17:56 on March 17, 3260, Your Excellency.”
Alecto silently watched the direction the black sedan had vanished, then inquired, “What of the Voodoo people?”
“They have already breached our southeastern border, my lord.”
“Has their ‘art of immortality’ grown so formidable? Truly the bastard offspring of the Mother of All Things.”
“Indeed, my lord.”
Alecto slowly closed his eyes, then opened them again. He gazed at the crimson-tinged sky in the distance, unconsciously clenching his fists.
“What purpose do you think his cooperation serves?” he inquired further.
“I cannot say. Perhaps an even more sinister one. Our alliance with him is like bargaining with a tiger—or rather, a dragon. He hasn't specified what we must grant him—”
“True. It could also mean a bitter price.”
Alecto narrowed his eyes slightly, his expression turning grave.
“This is taking so long, Iliya.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Do you truly believe they can breach the third defense line?”
This time, Iliya did not reply immediately. Instead, he stood silently to one side.
Alecto didn't press him, sighing instead. “Things seem to be getting rather complicated, Iria.”
“Indeed they are, Your Excellency.”
“Arrange an audience with the Empress for me.”
“Understood, Your Excellency.”
To be continued ～Within Kripper Palace
“Long time no see. What's with the disheveled look? Alekto... or should I say Doll 044?” The Empress turned, smiling at the kneeling youth.
“You are also one of the avatars of the master of the Court. I suspect Cole's cooperation harbors ulterior motives. Yet if I refuse to sign that pact, the Vudureans will swiftly breach the third defense line. Yasaran will fall, and *our* people will be subjected to curses by those vile creatures.”
“Hold your horses. Which are more despicable—the Merfolk or the Vudurein?”
“The Vudurein. But if we station Aquia troops in Asalan, isn't that like inviting wolves into the house?”
The Empress beckoned him closer, whispering a few words in his ear.
Alecto suddenly understood. “So you want me to team up with him to drive out the Vudurein, then take down the Mother of All Things?”
“My little knight indeed—quick to grasp things.”
“Get lost. Where'd you pick up that sickening nickname? From our mother—the Mother of All?”
“Not exactly. Though I do look forward to bringing down the Mother of All, avenging *our* ‘family’.”
“Don't even mention her. That harlot makes me sick.”
“Didn't *we* also emerge from her/its womb? So, in other words, *we* share the same bloodline as them—”
“*We* are different from them! *We* are vessels blessed (cursed) by the three deities!” he retorted.
"Ah, yes, yes, yes~ *We* were granted death by ‘Mother’ at thirteen. The only true escape from the ‘cursed seed’ was the ‘human’ named ‘Alecto’. Fortunately, *we* can borrow Alecto's memories and appearance. Before becoming the new master of the Court, *we* were one and the same. A vessel blessed by the gods? Your current form is the ‘seventeen-year-old boy’ we envisioned, crafted by the Mother of All Things using the ‘Time-Space’ doll technique. So, whether you admit it or not, your soul and body were created by Her. Cherish it well~"
“What are you two doing? Fighting?” “‘Future’ Master! She said again that I'm no different from those Vudurein bastards! How could that be!” The youth staggered toward the Clock Guardian, complaining. “Not at all! I was just telling him the truth!” snapped the Empress—who was also “played” by a girl who appeared underage.
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“Can you two stop acting so childish?” “Rest assured, *we* will always present ourselves as reliable leaders before the people.” “That's right. Only in front of you do *we* take off our ‘masks’ and reveal *our* true personalities.”
Future sighed, pulling both figures close in an embrace. “I'm sorry,” she murmured gently. “If only I could have prevented you from becoming the ‘Lord of the Court,’ you wouldn't need to wear these ‘masks.’ Living freely was always the hope of ‘Present’ and ‘Past.’” “Masters,” the youth murmured, “how many have died because of us?” The girl known as 045 gazed at the dark circles under his eyes, worn down by pressure. “There was one exception,” she said. "When we escaped using Alekto's human vessel, we met that man who claimed to be a dragon. Draco, was it? (Not the one from HP!) Because of him, *we* ultimately chose to be captured by the Mother of All Things. I wonder what became of him. He might be dead—after all, roughly a thousand years have passed since then. As a human, he should have died long ago. But if he truly was a dragon...
The youth, who had been closing his eyes, snapped them open at this mention: “Dragonkin? I vaguely recall Draco's appearance, somewhat like Aquia—Huh?! After all, I tracked him down through his soul. To see what he looks like now, ask Doll 043. She handles such matters.”
“Pfft—probably just a coincidence. We're getting off track. Anyway, 044, when do you plan to sign the contract?” The girl wriggled free from Future's embrace and asked.
“Tomorrow at 8:30. Any advice?”
“Nothing much to say either. I'll await the good news of your triumphant return after defeating the Vudurein.”
“*May the Bell of Satos guide us*,” Future blessed him.
“So be it. Excuse me now.” The youth turned and strode out the door without looking back. “Farewell! We await your triumphant return,” the girl smiled as she bid him farewell.
March 18, 3260
“May our pact be unbreakable...”
“It is our honor to collaborate with His Imperial Highness, representative of the Lord of the Tribunal.” The youth extended his hand to the man before him. The man did not grasp it, replying, “My apologies. Was that too sentimental? Let me state my terms first.” The youth withdrew his hand. “Please proceed.”
“Then I'll be blunt. We want the land of Dravia and the northeastern region of the Kingdom of Cardensreg. In exchange, we will expel the Vudureans from Asalan and attack the Mother of All “
“Dravia... As an independent nation between our country and Cardensreg, many of our people reside there. If I were to attack it, *I* might bear the name of a cruel, warlike monarch. Besides, the enemy we'd face is one of the ‘First Gods.’ With our experience, can we truly defeat Him?”
“Of course, our combat experience spans centuries—that's not the issue. The Church of Life has perpetrated evils within our borders for years. My grievance against it runs deep. The Church cursed tens of thousands with ‘eternal life.’ This time, I intend to settle that old debt.”
Seeing Alecto's hesitation, Aquia was about to speak when— “Bad news! The Voodoo-Rein forces have breached the third defense line!” An officer burst in, knocking over the guard at the door, and gasped out the report. “What?” Officials including Iliya gasped in unison. “Hoffman, report the details,” Alecto commanded calmly.
“I just received news from the front. The Vudurein's immortality makes them impossible to kill. An hour ago, General William surrendered to them. Asalan has fallen, Your Excellency.”
“That fool! He should know ‘immortality’ is more agonizing than death. That cowardly wretch,” he said, his voice tinged with anger.
Aquia suddenly interjected, “One cannot say that so easily. Perhaps he was protecting the common citizens.”
“Lord Aquia, my general requires no interference from you.” Flames like hellfire blazed in his crimson eyes, meeting the gentle, deep blue ocean in Aquia's gaze. For a moment, he felt awkward, clearing his throat twice. “Therefore, our collaboration must begin sooner.”
“Happy cooperation,” he extended his hand once more. “Happy cooperation,” the man replied with a smile, finally grasping the hand this time.
(Author's note: I originally intended to write a romantic subplot, but it ended up feeling rather peculiar.)
“Dravia... As an independent nation between our country and Cardensreg, many of our people reside there. If I were to attack it, *I* might bear the name of a cruel, warlike monarch. Besides, the enemy we'd face is one of the ‘First Gods.’ With our experience, can we truly defeat Him?”
“Of course, our combat experience spans centuries—that's not the issue. The Church of Life has perpetrated evils within our borders for years. My grievance against it runs deep. The Church cursed tens of thousands with ‘eternal life.’ This time, I intend to settle that old debt.”
Seeing Alecto's hesitation, Aquia was about to speak when— “Bad news! The Voodoo-Rein forces have breached the third defense line!” An officer burst in, knocking over the guard at the door, and gasped out the report. “What?” Officials including Iliya gasped in unison. “Hoffman, report the details,” Alecto commanded calmly.
“I just received news from the front. The Vudurein's immortality makes them impossible to kill. An hour ago, General William surrendered to them. Asalan has fallen, Your Excellency.”
“That fool! He should know ‘immortality’ is more agonizing than death. That cowardly wretch,” he said, his voice tinged with anger.
Aquia suddenly interjected, “One cannot say that so easily. Perhaps he was protecting the common citizens.”
“Lord Aquia, my general requires no interference from you.” Flames like hellfire blazed in his crimson eyes, meeting the gentle, deep blue ocean in Aquia's gaze. For a moment, he felt awkward, clearing his throat twice. “Therefore, our collaboration must begin sooner.”
“Happy cooperation,” he extended his hand once more. “Happy cooperation,” the man replied with a smile, finally grasping the hand this time.
(Author's note: I originally intended to write a romantic subplot, but it ended up feeling rather peculiar.)
November 2, 3260
“In my past life, I must have kissed your brow.”
Alecto unwrapped a candy from his pocket and swallowed the sweet treat he'd just bought. Spotting the figure ahead, the youth devised a plan, deliberately adopting an icy demeanor. Unfortunately, the biting cold wind swept across his small face, causing him to momentarily lose his composure.
“What's wrong? Could it be that Your Excellency of the Justia Empire cannot bear the cold—uh!”
His hand, encased in a white sleeve, gripped the dragon's soft scarf. But due to their height difference, the ambitious youth, his lips turning pale from the chill, had to tilt his head back to look up at the dragon.
A fleeting golden light danced in the Empire's beautiful eyes, sparkling like stars and reflecting the crimson irises with even more allure. “My dear ally, I came to collaborate, not to suffer.”
“You may return to your barracks, my dear ally.” The Water Dragon King produced a lighter and lit a cigarette.
The puppet boy drew near. This seemingly untrustworthy temporary ally caught the pungent, acrid scent of tobacco and silently retreated toward the warmth. The young Imperial pulled his garments tighter, rebutting point by point in halting Dagong: “My ally, if you wish to avoid a century-defining showdown between your great leader and Her Majesty the Empress... I'd be delighted to drag you along for shelter.”
Perhaps because half his face was buried in the fabric, the Empire's tone was muffled, revealing a different, frail, gentle softness unlike before. The dragon youth glanced at him through the wispy white smoke and said no more.
Bathed in the first rays of early winter dawn, the flickering light of an old, dim oil lamp cast a rare, tranquil glow over the scene.
“The first cup is offered to our Creator, Mother of All Things, praying for a world free from hunger, with surplus grain year after year.”
The rich, fragrant wine poured into the soil. Before the earth could fully absorb it, the neatly uniformed youth raised his hand and filled another cup. He gently raised it toward the luminous moon, once more pouring the clear, crystalline liquid onto the ground. The splashing droplets nearly dampened the soles of his boots.
“The second cup is offered to the Lord of the Black Abyss. May he finally achieve his purpose, forging a new path.”
His tone was reverent. The doll-like youth, offering libations and paying homage to the moon, was about to fill the third cup when his movements abruptly froze.
As if startled by the endless abyss—where hell's starving ghosts peer into the mortal realm—the deep blue was fading, replaced by a fresh rusty red. Alecto shattered the new cup, refusing to play the tragic fool caught in the absurd drama unfolding before him.
Seasons and days passed, the setting sun like blood.
“Lord Aquia, had we not been enemies, these vast mountains and seas would have kept us apart. This final cup—since you do not believe in our ‘god,’ I shall not invite you to drink it. Besides, I have no desire to share it.”
The colorless, tasteless yet fiercely potent liquor was downed in one gulp, igniting a searing flame in his stomach. His tone held a rare trace of gentleness—the rot that lingered in this soil had never truly been eradicated. Hatred was his backbone; greed his brush. The entire land was a pristine canvas traced by his fingertips. He existed in the deepest recesses between the lines, impossible for anyone to erase.
He trampled through blood and corpses,
He fell into eternal purgatory,
He traded his life for gifts seized by force,
He was unworthy to return home in glory.
"This final cup of wine,
To my boundless fantasies,
A tribute to the empire's highest glory—!"
Demons seize the moment to enter, bewitching hearts.
Alecto laughed wildly without restraint, blood staining his features as it trickled down from his scapula. Countless crimson thorns surged from the demon's body like fish crossing the river. He plucked the forbidden fruit imprisoned in Eden, clutching the crimson apple in his jaws as he sneered at Aquia:
“And you? What form do I take within your heart?”
From the heavens above to the depths below, we vowed to descend into hell together. Yet why did you abandon me first? I offered you the blood-stained rose from my heart, yet you forgot me and betrayed me first. How could anyone else possibly hold the same feelings for you as I do?
Would you too rip out that blood-soaked heart and devour it raw?
Whether you are Aquaor Draco, you are an unforgivable “sinner.” You will pay for your actions, won't you?
Lover in a past life, enemy nowadays
Love and hate refuse to fade—how can this bond dissolve?
(Well, I think this a lover to enemies story?)
