Acacia Chronicle

Snap back to the present day…

Much to Elena’s annoyance, the plaza had become suspiciously empty soon after her arrival. Nobody, much to her chagrin, knew anything about the missing girl, Anna de la Lune. Or at least, knew anything they wanted to say out loud to a Vizier of the Eye.

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

Elena turned around, to the sight of a Lightsworn guardsman. He was young, and seemed barely big enough to fit within the shining suit of plate armour that appeared a cut too big for his scrawny frame.

“Those earrings of yours… you’re a servant of Elicia, right?”

“Yeah, what about it?” Elena asked, as she crossed her arms. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m kinda busy, kid.”

The Lightsworn guardsman shuffled about nervously, considering Elena’s choice of words as he eyed her petite frame from head to toe. She was shorter than him, and from the look of it, a few years younger. Enough to be his little sister, possibly, were it not for the shape of her ears.

“You wanted something from me?” Elena asked again. “Honestly, you’re creeping me out with that look of yours.”

“Um… right. The residents here, they told me…”

“That I’m ruining their day? Tough. The feeling’s mutual, anyhow. Maybe if they’d tell me what I want to know, we’d leave each other well enough alone.”

“Well, um… may I see that poster in your hand, ma’am?”

“Sure. Here ya go.”

“I know that girl…” the guardsman uttered, as the gaze of his eyes remained affixed upon the image of the lavender-haired girl inked upon the poster. “My sister’s a friend of, well… her sister.”

“Oh, that’s good news for once,” Elena said with a smile. “I’d have a word with her, if you don’t mind.”

 

---

 

Later, at the Phantasmagoria Café…

It was quaint, and a little modest. At least, in light of some of the larger houses in the neighbourhood. The storefront, a counter boasting a glass display stocked with all manner of colourful pastries and cakes, was set up from the veranda of a small home, with a snowy garden where tables and chairs had been laid out for alfresco dining in the warmth of the afternoon sun.

“Welcome! I'm sorry to say that we're closed right now, I…”

The café owner was a young lady with red hair and green eyes. There was a nervous smile upon her face, of which bore numerous bruises and tiny cuts red with dried blood. And the collar of her white blouse, at least from what Elena could spot from behind the cover of a coffee-stained apron, looked like it had its buttons forcibly yanked off.

“Right. Well, I’m not here to buy anything,” Elena stated, showing the café owner the poster of the missing girl. “Your brother, he told me that you know the sister of this Anna de la Lune.”

“Yes, I do. I…”

“Not another word, you stupid wench.”

Cursing silently under her breath, Elena turned towards the guttural voice that had interrupted the café owner’s words. She found herself staring down a lanky man who was dressed in silken finery befitting of the Upper City, who glared at her with black eyes as he stood with his servants. At least, she thought him to be a man, only to realise his half-draconic features when she noticed the bits of reptilian scale dotting his skin like a black pox.

“You shouldn't run your mouth off like that to strangers, Cecelia. You wouldn't want something unfortunate to happen later, no?”

“Of course not!” the café owner, known as Cecelia, exclaimed. “I'm so sorry, young master! I really am! Please, don't…”

With a snort, the half-dragon ignored Cecelia’s pleas. He looked at Elena, tilting his head slightly upwards, such that the gleam of his black eyes glowered down upon her.

“As for you, demon-witch. You’re a little short for a demon worshipper, I’ll say...”

Elena frowned and crossed her arms. The half-dragon was easily a head taller than her vertically-challenged self, and that meant an annoying need to tilt her head upwards to look directly into his eyes so as to give a menacing glare. She wondered why she had yet to attach heels to her boots, if only to have this problem a little less often.

“Those earrings, though. You shouldn’t be here, servant of Elicia… treading upon my father’s territory…”

“Who’s that over there, huh…”

Elena’s words trailed off into the cold air, as she looked past the half-dragon angrily ranting at her, and at the table of pastries and drinks that belonged to him and his servants. There was a young lady with long yellow hair, who remained seated upon her chair as though set upon it like a ragdoll. The gaze of her brown eyes, caught in a daze and trapped in a reverie.

“I've seen her somewhere before…”

She was beautiful, even in her lifeless state. And yet, the emptiness in her eyes, made it seem like she had been subject to some kind of prolonged and unspeakable suffering. As Elena beheld it all, she felt herself drawn into a reverie of her own. The lady, whoever she was, had a beauty so hauntingly familiar.

“Hey! Stop ogling my pet, damn you!”

“Your ‘pet’,” Elena stated with a frown. “Seriously?”

“Yes, damn you! She’s mine, and…”

“Yeah, that’s great to hear. I’m quite sure what you’re claiming isn’t allowed at all by Elicia’s Law. So, partly because you interrupted me, I’ll be taking her, and you’ll…”

“You scrawny bitch!” the half-dragon roared, brandishing a dagger with jagged teeth shaped much like the cuts upon Cecelia’s face. “I don’t care if you’re a servant of Elicia, nobody talks to me like that, I oughta…”

“Oughta put that down before you get hurt.”

“Oh, yeah? I'll teach you some manners, you knife-eared…”

Before the dagger could even come close to Elena, she caught his wrist within the grip of her hand.

“Why, you…” the half-dragon snarled. “How did you…”

“Little slow for a big lizard, aren't ya?”

“Don't get smart with me! I’ll…”

The half-dragon reached for a purple satchel fastened upon his belt, and tossed its purple and silver contents at Elena. He smiled with malicious glee, only to realise soon enough that nothing had happened, and that the grip upon his wrist was as strong and as painful as ever.

“Impossible! The fantasia, it didn’t work… how…”

Elena smiled, placing a gloved finger upon her lips.

“Shh… hush, alright? Don’t ruin this part for me. Please.”

Increasing the pressure her fingers had upon the half-dragon’s wrist, Elena broke it with a single, violent twist. Before his screams of pain could finish, she kicked him square in the chest, sending him directly into the table that he and his servants had been lounging at, knocking it over and dropping all manner of coffee and cakes down upon him.

“How dare you do this to me!” the half-dragon shouted as his servants rushed to his aid. “Do you seriously think you can just come here, and…”

“Yeah.”

“Why, I’ll kill you… you knife-eared bitch!”

He turned to his servants, who were all crowding around him to attend to his broken hand.

“Kill her! Kill her, now!”

Elena furrowed her brow, as she beheld the array of pistols brandished in her direction. Cecelia, and the brown-eyed lady, were nowhere to be seen. And as she considered this, the bullets rang out into the cold air, coming for her one after another in a seemingly endless volley. And at such close range, most of them found their way into her chest, pushing her back step by step as they riddled the white shirt she wore underneath her longcoat with many, many holes.

“Impossible!” one of the servants shouted, when his pistol ran out of bullets. “Young master, she’s still standing… not bleeding at all… she’s…”

The man next to him dropped his weapon and fled. His fellows joined him, only to suddenly turn around collectively with a snap of what sounded like bones breaking into two. As what appeared like a white serpentine sigil formed upon their foreheads, as they stared at Elena with murderous intent upon their deadened eyes.

“I don’t care what she is!” the half-dragon yelled, having been left upon the coffee-stained snow with his broken hand. “Kill her… if it’s the last thing that you worthless dogs do!”

Like puppets pulled by an invisible string, the half-dragon’s servants charged forward, their hands and nails at the ready. Elena, on the other hand, stood her ground, bringing the full potency of her magic to bear upon her hand as tears of dust began to trickle down her crimson eyes.

“Right. Kill ‘em all first…”

Elena’s sigil made itself manifest upon her palm, its crimson lines forming a crown of thorns. With it, she willed forth a wave of necrotic death that pulsed forward in waves of green, disrupting the very life energies of her oncoming attackers. Reducing them all, to nothing more than blood and melted husks of flesh and bone.

“Investigate later…”

Ignoring the mess of dust and blood sticking viscously upon her favourite longcoat, and the bullets lodged in her bloodless flesh, Elena walked up to the bloodied husk that lay apart from the rest. The half-dragon was now beyond recognition, or any form of questioning, but it was clearly him. She thought of his arrogance despite his inability to fight, how it all bordered on insanity, and she frowned.

“You bastard. How’d you do it, huh? Not that you’d tell me, but…”

Nestled upon what little remained of his index finger, she found it. Covered in blood, it was a silver signet set with a purple gem that glowed lightly with the serpentine sigil she had seen glowing upon the half-dragon’s servants when they engaged in their suicidal attack. And it was, clearly, the source of his delusion of absolute power, that made him believe himself to be untouchable even to a servant of Elicia. Not that it actually did, for that matter.

“Heh. An enchanted item… bearing another sorcerer’s magic.”

Grimacing heavily, Elena picked up the bloodied signet and placed it in her pocket. When she noticed a pair of green eyes watching her every move from behind the café’s storefront, her grimace turned to a smile.