'Why is this feeling... It's coming back to me after all these years?!'
Anasthasia was familiar with this kind of feeling, and such eerie sound rang from all directions. Hands pressed harder against her ears. It was all, but painful moans blurted out her dainty lips.
"Tasha?" Michael's call coated with worry. But the shock was apparent on his face, tried to resist her overwhelming power, he shouted, "Tasha! What's wrong?!"
The intensity of her pressure awoke their sleep—Freidmirth flinched and tried to retreat his posture a few steps away from her, the twins grabbed their scabbard in a jiffy—but the Prince restrained them.
"Your Highness, what—what happened?"
"I don't know Liam, this—pressure..."
"She's—" Levi lost his balance as the pressure got stronger, and to their surprise, this had their bodies anchored on the ground as though they carried the weight of the entire world.
"Tasha! Get a hold of yourself!"
Anasthasia's body trembled, embracing the frigid wind around her while resisting the searing flames inside her body. The piercing, eerie sound had never subsided. Amidst all these, she discerned a subtle, deep voice that called for help.
'Michael?' Why is he calling me for?' Her eyes welled up with moisture, encountering the searing flames on her vision, and resisted such as her eyes slowly opened. The vision turned clearer than before, which brought her to the horrifying event.
Anasthasia's eyes dawned upon their figure, their bodies glowed with aura, clear enough to show resistance of her power. But things weren't enough to withstand such hostility—their gritted teeth flashed, veins popped on their forehead and neck, and their hands clawed deeply to the forest's floor.
She looked around her. Her eyes widened from the sudden vortex of wind, forming around her, and a tinge of colorful energy coalesced with violence and ferocity, flashing sparks snapped the air, which caused a crackling sound. She shuddered as the sparks flew like a tremendous whip that almost struck Liam, whose body immobilized in futility.
'I can't hurt them! I must move out!'
Despite the recurring pain, she dashed away from them and called Freidmirth, "Freid! You—Protect—them!"
Freidmirth's limbs, which had long trembled, flinched one more time and got himself moving. He turned around, and tail scooped them with gentleness. Drawing away from her, he growled, "It's pretty dangerous."
They all nodded in unison, then looked back towards Anasthasia, who went on her knees and dug her nails on the ground. They witnessed her clenched teeth and eyes gleamed with defiance.
The choral sounds of crickets and forest hums drowned from the crackling sparks, and buzzing winds. But their eyes crinkled when Tasha hunched over, face knitted and fingers balled. She slammed her palms into the ground.
Things took quite a turn.
They were shocked to hear how the song of the forest mused back to their ears—so quiet and serene—but their eyes scrutinized the strong gale. From a distance, her minidress had its edges fluttered at a rapid rate, and blonde hair rose to dangerous heights.
"Your Highness, what the heck—" Liam's forehead creased, shifting his gaze to Michael, who spoke in awe.
"Sound Isolation..."
"I beg your pardon, Your Highness, but what exactly is that?"
Michael never took his eyes off her, the pupils rattled, then dilated at subtle pace, murmuring, "Spell... That's complicated magic... How did she—" But stopped as soon as he noticed her mouth agape, his ears tingled with concentration and heard more or less of her speech.
"I...WON'T...YIELD!"
"What—?" His eyes rattled once more from her command, which had him utter breathlessly. But his eyes welcomed with an initial blast of light. His instincts clawed as they cowered beneath their tattered robes, and then hid behind Freidmirth's tail.
They squeezed their eyes shut, and such luminosity subsided for a hot minute. Removing themselves from their covers, they noticed the subtle sizzles and moisture evaporated. Twins squirmed in discomfort. The sudden heat continued to raze them.
Michael glanced up and saw how Freidmirth snarled under his smoky breath. He fared worse—quivering from the brilliance, and smoke pervaded all over his colossal body—when he took a drastic shift and covered them enough to cast a large shadow.
Freidmirth shook his head from that dazzling brilliance. His claws nudged on his snout and huffed. When his vision turned vivid, he turned around and saw Anasthasia, looking appalled between her deep pants, lay down the ground.
Which, in turn, Friedmirth growled in concern, "Anasthasia!"
When they noticed her predicament, Michael bellowed angrily, "Liam, Levi, go check on her!"
Liam hesitated, he looked back and forth with face knitted in confusion, he cautioned, "But, Your Highness—"
"Don't worry, and I'll be alright any time soon. Tasha needs more help than I do." Despite his recent injury, he bawled in assurance,
"That's—"
"Liam, this is an order!" His eyes gleamed with thirst and murder, whispering in gritted teeth, "Don't make me say this twice..."
"Y—Yes!" Liam and Levi flinched in horror, sprinted their way towards Tasha. Michael did what he can to stabilize his position, with the help of Freidmirth, and slowly trudged his way towards them.
When the twins drew a closer look, they noticed the beads of sweat thrive in profusion—Her face drowned, and her curly blonde hair turned slick—and it continued to trickle down. But the moisture was nowhere severe than her body. Her dress almost drenched, with rhinestones, toppled on the high-quality of blue fabric, amplified its opulence. Laces and glittering accents on the dress sagged, and this constricted the size of the fabric, her hourglass shape highlighted.
Twins gulped audibly, resisting the alluring sight that ensnared their gazes. Soon, loud cough emerged behind their backs, giving them the chills. They promptly scurried to the side, stiffly upright and eyes shut.
Michael slowly sauntered forward and crept onto his knees; his vision scouring her vulnerable figure. Taking a chance, he extended his trembling hands close to her face. Suddenly, Anasthasia snatched his hands and snapped her eyes wide open, denying him of it.
"You have this kind of reflexes, too." He chuckled, "I'm impressed."
"Why are you here?—" Tasha countered with her eyes then drifted to the twins, then Freidmirth from behind, "Why are you all here?"
Michael's eyes narrowed, "We're incredibly worried."
"I see, I'm alright now." She groaned in silence, anchoring her palms to the ground as she sat up, "Things just got topsy-turvy; that's all."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Oh!" She batted her lashes, muttering under her breath, "It was nothing but backlash."
"Backlash?"
Despite her blue eyes avoiding their gaze, she nodded, agreeing to Michael's every word, "I didn't use my powers properly, that's all."
'I can't tell them... Now isn't the right time!'
"Indeed." Seeing his stubborn reaction, Michael sighed in response and mused, "Are you able to stand at your current condition?"
"Shouldn't that be my line, first patient?" Tasha scoffed at his remarks, earning her a hearty guffaw from the injured man.
"Don't worry, and I'm pretty much fine at this condition." He began stretching his legs, which had her eyebrows arched up with fascination.
"I guess it didn't take long for you to recover." She mustered up her remaining strength and slowly got back on her feet and heaved a sigh of relief, "That's good news."
Changing the topic, Michael whispered, "You're dehydrated."
"Am I—?"
"Your lips." Anastasia's fingertips unconsciously reached for her lips and brushed against them. She felt the cracks, more prominent than she expected, and shook her head.
'Why's this happening again?' She pondered, frightened. She embraced herself, her eyes firmly shut, holding the minidress, which made her hand gleam bright red. The moisture on the surface steadily vaporized.
"There, this should do."
"Quite sophisticated use of magic there." Michael leaned forward and grinned.
"That's just one of the basics." Her eyebrows knitted, grumbling, "Does that mean you don't know this at all?"
"That's a waste of time and energy."
Anasthasia rolled her eyes; she couldn't be bothered by Michael's comment. She reached her pockets, rummaging inside. Crumbles danced across the palm of her hand, causing her to falter. 'Please, not the stone! Not the stone!'
She grabbed a handful from her pocket and peered at the dark ashen bits in her palm with surprise. They had come from the incinerated plush dolls.
This piqued up Michael's curiosity, and he thoroughly asked, "What are those dark crumbles?"
Anasthasia quipped, "These are the ones I retrieved from killing those guys."
"Those guys, you mean—"
"The burly man you fought earlier, he turned out like this."
"I see," Soon after, Michael shouted, "Levi!"
"Your Highness!"
"Take a closer look."
"Puppets..." Levi nudged his glasses, his jaws clenched and sneered, "I know where these tools came from, is this a blatant declaration of war?!"
"No," Michael shook his head, disapprovingly replied, "We can't make hasty judgments."
"But, Your Highness!"
"Levi." Michael's stern voice indulged the night in silence.
Anasthasia sighed, "I guess we have a long way to go."