Amidst a field of wilting wheat and crushed financial hopes, the most disparate thing was the well in the centre. To say that it looked abandoned was to say that bouillabaisse à l'encre de seiche was acceptable as an evening entrée. It wasn't. It was ugly and grisly. And so was this well.
I stared down into the abyss, feeling the cold air echoing within its depths. There was no hint of its bottom. No dripping or splashing of water. Only a sordid darkness resided here, giving way to a pit without end.
I looked up and frowned at Mary … Marina Lainsfont. She had the good grace to already look sheepish.
“The starflower is here?” I queried. “In this well? At the bottom?”
“I believe so,” she replied, looking less and less reliable with each passing moment.
I returned to gawking into the clear safety hazard. The well had no cover and no signage. And while the fates of those who accidentally tripped and fell to an agonising end mattered little to me, it did suggest a rather unseemly welcome for anyone who voluntarily climbed down.
Fortunately, whatever had accrued at the bottom couldn't be seen.
Unfortunately, whatever had accrued at the bottom also couldn't be avoided.
“Is there a reason you haven't collected the starflower yourself?” I asked, glancing back at the alchemist. “As ghastly as climbing down a well surely is, it must have warranted your investigation.”
“It did. I've … well, I've previously thought about climbing down, but it's not the well itself that has the starflower. It's the caverns.”
“There are caverns underneath Rolstein?”
“Only here. Underground waterways originating from a series of caverns feeds into this well. They're very old, and other than when there's an issue with the water supply, rarely traversed. However, I recently discovered records that suggest a unique ecosystem may be present down there which includes flora and um … other inhabitants.”
“And how many dozens of eyes do these inhabitants have?”
“The normal amount. Maybe. Tunnel bats are known to exit the well on occasion. The 'maybe' makes it too dangerous for me … but based on the ideal conditions, I believe that a starflower may very well be present.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“That, or some other array of rare apothecary ingredients, I imagine?”
“The thought did cross my mind, yes,” admitted the alchemist. “But whether or not a starflower is present is irrelevant if another suitably powerful curative can be discovered.”
“A fool's hope,” I replied. “Guesswork is unlikely to hand the keys to unlocking this cure.”
The woman's shoulders fell.
“Does … Does this mean ...”
“And yet, I believe that pursuing all avenues of investigation is warranted, given the severity of the Withering. As a result, I will personally order my future attendant to climb down this narrow and dangerous well and retrieve any rare medicinal reagents for your usage.”
Coppelia, who until now was content to examine the spiralling abyss she would soon investigate, looked up at me and beamed.
“Nope.”
“Now, Coppelia, I understand your apprehension. This well is disgusting. However, this is a matter of practicality. Your outrageous strength must surely confer above-average jumping and falling abilities. As there's no method for me to enter or exit without grave harm to me or my sense of hygiene, it leaves you with your unique skill set for physicality to conduct this investigation.”
Coppelia pointed at something in the wilted wheat.
“There's a ladder here.”
I leaned slightly to the side, then spotted the wooden ladder squashing what few crops had valiantly tried to remain upright.
“An excellent observation, Coppelia. Why, by spotting something unbeknownst to the rest of us, you've demonstrated your proficiency in taking on this investigative role.”
“True. I'm still in the 'nope' camp, though. I'm not valiant and brave like you. In fact, I have an idea! Why don't you use the ladder and I'll give moral support by constantly praising your courage from here?”
Tempting. But no.
I looked at the alchemist instead.
“Why is there a ladder conveniently placed here, and why are you not currently volunteering to lead the way into your own excursion?”
The woman glanced to the side as she played with her fingers. An embarrassed blush appeared on her cheeks.
“Um, well … like I said, I previously thought about climbing down … but it's … well, um, very dark ...”
I looked between the two individuals I found myself with.
One a clockwork doll, one an alchemist. Impudence with a brazen smile from one and cowardice with a bashful veneer from the other.
Then, I quietly groaned while rubbing my temples.
Ugh. But of course, what else could I expect from simple commoners? Gallantry was the realm of royalty. And as a princess, I was its champion.
If I was forced to climb down a damp and hopelessly unfitting well, then that wasn't a black mark against my standing, was it? No, of course not. It was a sign of boldness, determination and unmatched nerve. Qualities which were not only expected of me, but ones which I regularly performed each time my mother brutishly thrust me into the limelight of court to 'do some actual work'.
Indeed, I was no stranger to tenacity!
What was a well, compared to the horrors of conversing with the daughters and sons of lesser nobility as though we were peers?
A highly suspect hole in the ground was nothing! And if I told myself that, then it immediately became true!
“Ohh … ohoho! Very well. The both of you may rejoice. I will brave the darkness and scour the depths! Whatever reagents may be recovered within, I will extract for the sake of this kingdom!”
“Ooooh ...”
Coppelia began clapping her hands. The alchemist joined her after a moment's confusion. The applause was neither necessary, nor particularly fervent.
I accepted it nonetheless, smiling as I pointed at the ladder.
“Coppelia, please attach the ladder to the well. You may hold it steady while I descend into the depths.”
“I'll do better than that. Why, with a determination so fierce, how could I abandon a heroine to brave the unknowns on her own?”
“Me too! I'll join you. I told you I'll show you the way. I can't just leave you to explore on your own. I can help identify anything that may be of use.”
And just like that, my valour had roped willing servants to my side!
Not that I allowed surprise to leak onto my carefully crafted expression. Indeed, drawing the weak and the unwilling to my cause was a principle effect of my royal status, whether I proclaimed it or not!
“Ohhoho! Then let us make haste! Even as we stand, the livelihoods of those around us perishes beneath the evening glow!”
“Right!”
With enthusiasm which I already viewed as uncharacteristic, Coppelia skipped over to the ladder, then effortlessly lifted it over her head. Myself and the alchemist ducked as she swung it violently over the well with little heed to our heads.
“Hiee?! W-Watch where you display your brutish strength! I only have one head, and it's my life's goal to keep it on my neck!”
“Got it!”
Twirling it like a dancer with a baton, she gave a playful smile as she plunged the ladder down the well.
One thing was for certain. There was a bottom.
And one not as far as the unnatural darkness would suggest.
A frail splash echoed upwards, betraying the shallowness of the water. I peered down the opening once again, wincing as I failed to discern where the ladder vanished from view.
“Okay~” said Coppelia with a musical hum. “Lead the way, Lady Heroine.”
I frowned as I looked up.
“I'm not a Lady. I'm a Pri—ack-hack-ack-ughh.”
“Wow, you even have hacking coughs in your titles? You kingdoms really like your fancy names, huh? Where do I get one like that?”
After almost being caught out by the most fiendish of questions, I recollected myself and smiled with grace.
“The … The Kingdom of Tirea's peerage system doesn't allow those without hereditary claims to a noble birthright assume a title. It is not something you can 'get', with the sole exception of a royal proclamation.”
“… And how do I get one of them?”
I willed myself not to tut. Such a coarse question would never be levelled at me had she known who I truly was. As such, I would allow the tactlessness.
“Through significant contribution to the kingdom,” I answered, before reaching for the top rung of the ladder. “Should you wish to begin climbing that staircase of sweat and tears, I suggest you begin by making me a pot of chamomile tea.”
Indeed, as the feats I intend to perform will doubtless be recorded in the annals of our history, even the smallest contribution by those who aid me will be viewed with generous lenses … especially if they offer me hot beverages on demand!
I gingerly lifted myself across the rim of the well and planted my feet onto the ladder.
“I'm terrible at tea making,” she said, a black stain now inked on her history. “But I make up for it with my charming disposition and ability to ask questions at the worst times. For example, how are you going to see down there?”
I paused, already several steps down.
“M-My! Have no fear … that won't be an issue!”
Clearly, she believed me so focused on the task ahead that I'd neglected a vital practicality in achieving it. Understandable. But I was no clumsy genius fated to trip over her masterworks and journals. I was simply a genius.
And that meant being able to hop over every hazard even before I saw it!
For indeed … I did have a method for piercing even the darkest night.
“Voila!”
Starlight Grace shone as I carefully drew it from my sheath, one hand still gripping the ladder.
All of a sudden, the overwhelming darkness below was pierced by a light so radiant that it seemed to rebound within this small space. Each pearl of moisture was illuminated against the stone, shining like little stars painted against the damp surface.
In legends past, Starlight Grace's splendour was such that this artifact alone could pierce the foul blackness which shielded the Witch of Calamity once plaguing our fledgling kingdom. Noble as our ancestors' hearts, tenacious as the towns they founded and virtuous as the heavens which shone upon their labour, Starlight Grace was the symbol of the kingdom's spirit …..... and also my reading light.
Truly, my sword was astonishingly convenient!
What need did one have of candles and fireplaces when I was gifted the light of the heavens themselves? Yes, Starlight Grace could fell the hordes of darkness, but more importantly, it allowed me to finish the page turners that raced against my need for sleep.
I pointed my sword towards my feet.
A murky, shallow surface of water was illuminated at the bottom of the revealed well. Not one, but several buckets shorn of their rope were lying half-submerged amongst a wet collage of algae and foliage.
What were once leaves and florets of wheat blown from the fields above now formed its own habitat. I chose not to think about what ghastly species of caterpillars had opted to make their home within that mass of virulent green.
Above me, I heard a hushed gasp. I glanced up at my captivated audience.
“A-Amazing ...” murmured the alchemist, her eyes wide.
“I know,” added Coppelia, no less stunned. “I would've put money on there being at least one dead body down there.”
I redirected my gaze back down.
“If you still wish to make that wager, then you're free to.”
“Really? Will you bet against me?”
I narrowed me eyes at the pit of algae.
“No.”
“Shame. There's definitely something dead down there. So, going down?”
With that, Coppelia tapped the top rung of the ladder with her foot. I parted my lips, ready to discuss with her the non-existent notion of hurrying a princess when the alchemist let out a gulp so audible that it echoed within the well.
“Such a magnificent sword … How did you come to acquire it?”
“It was gifted to me as a young child. Not a day has gone by where I haven't had it by my side.”
“I see … then it's no wonder my father gave the task of delivering Apple to you. You must be a highly accomplished swordswoman to have earned his respect so swiftly.”
“N … Naturally! It's said that … warriors may take the measure of one another more keenly than even a merchant and their wares. My righteous soul and exemplary skill at arms is revealed to any who care to look.”
The alchemist wore an expression of fervent agreement as she studied the sword in my grip. For my part, I pressed it up against the side of the ladder as I began to climb down the well.
It was not the most dignified of activities, but I was saving the kingdom. I could easily spin this unbecoming descent into a far grander tale once the time came to pay off the bards and the minstrels. Why, this was something that would earn me the adoration of the masses! Most princesses only climbed up, and yet here I was, descending even deeper than where their knees fell as they grovelled towards me.
My, wasn't I just a princess of the people?
In moments, I heard, and felt, my far more fearful comrades finding purchase on the ladder. Accepting my natural role as leader, I led the descent with grace and maturity, never once noticing how disgustingly slimy this ladder was, or wondering how much fire would be needed to erase the smell of algae from my clothes afterwards.
“You spoke of dangers,” I said upwards, past Coppelia's graceful figure as she practically slid from rung to rung. “Aside from tunnel bats and tripping over one's feet in the darkness, what other dangers can be expected within the waterways?”
“I … ah, it's quite slippery isn't it? Um, I'm not sure. I would expect monsters to reside in the dark and wet conditions. But from what I know of the well, the only things other than tunnel bats to escape are water slimes and strangler crabs.”
“Creatures that even a newly trained soldier would be expected to readily dispatch. Is that all?”
“I believe so. It's the unknown that concerns me. But so far, I've seen no records to suggest that anything more sinister resides here. I think it'll be fine. Maybe. Probably. I would traverse these caverns myself, but, well … I don't have a glowing sword.”
The alchemist's voice faded with something between shame and embarrassment.
Of course, for an ordinary citizen, even common monsters were beyond them. Slimes, crabs and bats failed to worry me. After all, I had Starlight Grace. And more pertinently, I had a clockwork doll with enough arm strength to propel me to safety if and when required.
Still, I wondered why I could feel goosebumps beginning to appear?
And hmm … what was that ominous groaning in the distance?
“Hey, hey, Juliette?”
I glanced up and frowned. It was one thing for to be spoken to so casually, but the way Coppelia did it with such a blasé smile would have sent tutting hurtling her way in any other context.
Curiously, I didn't find it entirely displeasing. Perhaps because the handmaids who'd served my family longest were permitted in private to refer to us with a degree of informality. It was, in a limited capacity, refreshing.
“Yes, what is it?”
“Well, I just had this thought,” she said, animatedly pointing at her own head. “If we're not actually sure what's beyond this highly suspect well, would it not be prudent to pause, take stock of our limited supplies, re-evaluate the purpose of this hastily arranged venture and perhaps seek even just a little bit of information before ploughing head first into the uncharted darkness?”
I paused to consider a crack in the stone, then waved away Coppelia's concerns.
Really now! Nitpicking over plans is what my brothers and sisters did. And look where that had gotten them. Assigned to ghastly roles filled with royal duties and obnoxious responsibilities, without a minute to spend on their own whims.
That was not the life of luxury I intended to live.
… Moreover, time spent planning was time spent not doing! My livelihood was at stake and I had a long list to go through. I was here to hurry, not to worry!
Thus, I shrugged and continued climbing. But not without giving my answer.
“Ohhohohoho!! Darkness? What need do I have to fear the darkness? Indeed, it is the darkness who should fear me!”
I raised Starlight Grace ever so slightly, drawing on the last gasp of sunlight peering down the well to reflect off its radiant edge. A prism of blinding light momentarily lit up the entirety of the well, before falling solely against the bottom of the well once more.
“Ooooh …”
Coppelia applauded, not even requiring her hands to hold herself steady against the ladder. I accepted it with good grace.
That's right. I had nothing to fear!
For I was the Third Princess to the Kingdom of Tirea. And that meant even this darkness belonged to me. If it troubled me, I'd find a way to tax it!
And yes, that included the strange groaning in the distance too.
Amidst a field of wilting wheat and crushed financial hopes, the most disparate thing was the well in the centre. To say that it looked abandoned was to say that bouillabaisse à l'encre de seiche was acceptable as an evening entrée. It wasn't. It was ugly and grisly. And so was this well.
I stared down into the abyss, feeling the cold air echoing within its depths. There was no hint of its bottom. No dripping or splashing of water. Only a sordid darkness resided here, giving way to a pit without end.
I looked up and frowned at Mary … Marina Lainsfont. She had the good grace to already look sheepish.
“The starflower is here?” I queried. “In this well? At the bottom?”
“I believe so,” she replied, looking less and less reliable with each passing moment.
I returned to gawking into the clear safety hazard. The well had no cover and no signage. And while the fates of those who accidentally tripped and fell to an agonising end mattered little to me, it did suggest a rather unseemly welcome for anyone who voluntarily climbed down.
Fortunately, whatever had accrued at the bottom couldn't be seen.
Unfortunately, whatever had accrued at the bottom also couldn't be avoided.
“Is there a reason you haven't collected the starflower yourself?” I asked, glancing back at the alchemist. “As ghastly as climbing down a well surely is, it must have warranted your investigation.”
“It did. I've … well, I've previously thought about climbing down, but it's not the well itself that has the starflower. It's the caverns.”
“There are caverns underneath Rolstein?”
“Only here. Underground waterways originating from a series of caverns feeds into this well. They're very old, and other than when there's an issue with the water supply, rarely traversed. However, I recently discovered records that suggest a unique ecosystem may be present down there which includes flora and um … other inhabitants.”
“And how many dozens of eyes do these inhabitants have?”
“The normal amount. Maybe. Tunnel bats are known to exit the well on occasion. The 'maybe' makes it too dangerous for me … but based on the ideal conditions, I believe that a starflower may very well be present.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“That, or some other array of rare apothecary ingredients, I imagine?”
“The thought did cross my mind, yes,” admitted the alchemist. “But whether or not a starflower is present is irrelevant if another suitably powerful curative can be discovered.”
“A fool's hope,” I replied. “Guesswork is unlikely to hand the keys to unlocking this cure.”
The woman's shoulders fell.
“Does … Does this mean ...”
“And yet, I believe that pursuing all avenues of investigation is warranted, given the severity of the Withering. As a result, I will personally order my future attendant to climb down this narrow and dangerous well and retrieve any rare medicinal reagents for your usage.”
Coppelia, who until now was content to examine the spiralling abyss she would soon investigate, looked up at me and beamed.
“Nope.”
“Now, Coppelia, I understand your apprehension. This well is disgusting. However, this is a matter of practicality. Your outrageous strength must surely confer above-average jumping and falling abilities. As there's no method for me to enter or exit without grave harm to me or my sense of hygiene, it leaves you with your unique skill set for physicality to conduct this investigation.”
Coppelia pointed at something in the wilted wheat.
“There's a ladder here.”
I leaned slightly to the side, then spotted the wooden ladder squashing what few crops had valiantly tried to remain upright.
“An excellent observation, Coppelia. Why, by spotting something unbeknownst to the rest of us, you've demonstrated your proficiency in taking on this investigative role.”
“True. I'm still in the 'nope' camp, though. I'm not valiant and brave like you. In fact, I have an idea! Why don't you use the ladder and I'll give moral support by constantly praising your courage from here?”
Tempting. But no.
I looked at the alchemist instead.
“Why is there a ladder conveniently placed here, and why are you not currently volunteering to lead the way into your own excursion?”
The woman glanced to the side as she played with her fingers. An embarrassed blush appeared on her cheeks.
“Um, well … like I said, I previously thought about climbing down … but it's … well, um, very dark ...”
I looked between the two individuals I found myself with.
One a clockwork doll, one an alchemist. Impudence with a brazen smile from one and cowardice with a bashful veneer from the other.
Then, I quietly groaned while rubbing my temples.
Ugh. But of course, what else could I expect from simple commoners? Gallantry was the realm of royalty. And as a princess, I was its champion.
If I was forced to climb down a damp and hopelessly unfitting well, then that wasn't a black mark against my standing, was it? No, of course not. It was a sign of boldness, determination and unmatched nerve. Qualities which were not only expected of me, but ones which I regularly performed each time my mother brutishly thrust me into the limelight of court to 'do some actual work'.
Indeed, I was no stranger to tenacity!
What was a well, compared to the horrors of conversing with the daughters and sons of lesser nobility as though we were peers?
A highly suspect hole in the ground was nothing! And if I told myself that, then it immediately became true!
“Ohh … ohoho! Very well. The both of you may rejoice. I will brave the darkness and scour the depths! Whatever reagents may be recovered within, I will extract for the sake of this kingdom!”
“Ooooh ...”
Coppelia began clapping her hands. The alchemist joined her after a moment's confusion. The applause was neither necessary, nor particularly fervent.
I accepted it nonetheless, smiling as I pointed at the ladder.
“Coppelia, please attach the ladder to the well. You may hold it steady while I descend into the depths.”
“I'll do better than that. Why, with a determination so fierce, how could I abandon a heroine to brave the unknowns on her own?”
“Me too! I'll join you. I told you I'll show you the way. I can't just leave you to explore on your own. I can help identify anything that may be of use.”
And just like that, my valour had roped willing servants to my side!
Not that I allowed surprise to leak onto my carefully crafted expression. Indeed, drawing the weak and the unwilling to my cause was a principle effect of my royal status, whether I proclaimed it or not!
“Ohhoho! Then let us make haste! Even as we stand, the livelihoods of those around us perishes beneath the evening glow!”
“Right!”
With enthusiasm which I already viewed as uncharacteristic, Coppelia skipped over to the ladder, then effortlessly lifted it over her head. Myself and the alchemist ducked as she swung it violently over the well with little heed to our heads.
“Hiee?! W-Watch where you display your brutish strength! I only have one head, and it's my life's goal to keep it on my neck!”
“Got it!”
Twirling it like a dancer with a baton, she gave a playful smile as she plunged the ladder down the well.
One thing was for certain. There was a bottom.
And one not as far as the unnatural darkness would suggest.
A frail splash echoed upwards, betraying the shallowness of the water. I peered down the opening once again, wincing as I failed to discern where the ladder vanished from view.
“Okay~” said Coppelia with a musical hum. “Lead the way, Lady Heroine.”
I frowned as I looked up.
“I'm not a Lady. I'm a Pri—ack-hack-ack-ughh.”
“Wow, you even have hacking coughs in your titles? You kingdoms really like your fancy names, huh? Where do I get one like that?”
After almost being caught out by the most fiendish of questions, I recollected myself and smiled with grace.
“The … The Kingdom of Tirea's peerage system doesn't allow those without hereditary claims to a noble birthright assume a title. It is not something you can 'get', with the sole exception of a royal proclamation.”
“… And how do I get one of them?”
I willed myself not to tut. Such a coarse question would never be levelled at me had she known who I truly was. As such, I would allow the tactlessness.
“Through significant contribution to the kingdom,” I answered, before reaching for the top rung of the ladder. “Should you wish to begin climbing that staircase of sweat and tears, I suggest you begin by making me a pot of chamomile tea.”
Indeed, as the feats I intend to perform will doubtless be recorded in the annals of our history, even the smallest contribution by those who aid me will be viewed with generous lenses … especially if they offer me hot beverages on demand!
I gingerly lifted myself across the rim of the well and planted my feet onto the ladder.
“I'm terrible at tea making,” she said, a black stain now inked on her history. “But I make up for it with my charming disposition and ability to ask questions at the worst times. For example, how are you going to see down there?”
I paused, already several steps down.
“M-My! Have no fear … that won't be an issue!”
Clearly, she believed me so focused on the task ahead that I'd neglected a vital practicality in achieving it. Understandable. But I was no clumsy genius fated to trip over her masterworks and journals. I was simply a genius.
And that meant being able to hop over every hazard even before I saw it!
For indeed … I did have a method for piercing even the darkest night.
“Voila!”
Starlight Grace shone as I carefully drew it from my sheath, one hand still gripping the ladder.
All of a sudden, the overwhelming darkness below was pierced by a light so radiant that it seemed to rebound within this small space. Each pearl of moisture was illuminated against the stone, shining like little stars painted against the damp surface.
In legends past, Starlight Grace's splendour was such that this artifact alone could pierce the foul blackness which shielded the Witch of Calamity once plaguing our fledgling kingdom. Noble as our ancestors' hearts, tenacious as the towns they founded and virtuous as the heavens which shone upon their labour, Starlight Grace was the symbol of the kingdom's spirit …..... and also my reading light.
Truly, my sword was astonishingly convenient!
What need did one have of candles and fireplaces when I was gifted the light of the heavens themselves? Yes, Starlight Grace could fell the hordes of darkness, but more importantly, it allowed me to finish the page turners that raced against my need for sleep.
I pointed my sword towards my feet.
A murky, shallow surface of water was illuminated at the bottom of the revealed well. Not one, but several buckets shorn of their rope were lying half-submerged amongst a wet collage of algae and foliage.
What were once leaves and florets of wheat blown from the fields above now formed its own habitat. I chose not to think about what ghastly species of caterpillars had opted to make their home within that mass of virulent green.
Above me, I heard a hushed gasp. I glanced up at my captivated audience.
“A-Amazing ...” murmured the alchemist, her eyes wide.
“I know,” added Coppelia, no less stunned. “I would've put money on there being at least one dead body down there.”
I redirected my gaze back down.
“If you still wish to make that wager, then you're free to.”
“Really? Will you bet against me?”
I narrowed me eyes at the pit of algae.
“No.”
“Shame. There's definitely something dead down there. So, going down?”
With that, Coppelia tapped the top rung of the ladder with her foot. I parted my lips, ready to discuss with her the non-existent notion of hurrying a princess when the alchemist let out a gulp so audible that it echoed within the well.
“Such a magnificent sword … How did you come to acquire it?”
“It was gifted to me as a young child. Not a day has gone by where I haven't had it by my side.”
“I see … then it's no wonder my father gave the task of delivering Apple to you. You must be a highly accomplished swordswoman to have earned his respect so swiftly.”
“N … Naturally! It's said that … warriors may take the measure of one another more keenly than even a merchant and their wares. My righteous soul and exemplary skill at arms is revealed to any who care to look.”
The alchemist wore an expression of fervent agreement as she studied the sword in my grip. For my part, I pressed it up against the side of the ladder as I began to climb down the well.
It was not the most dignified of activities, but I was saving the kingdom. I could easily spin this unbecoming descent into a far grander tale once the time came to pay off the bards and the minstrels. Why, this was something that would earn me the adoration of the masses! Most princesses only climbed up, and yet here I was, descending even deeper than where their knees fell as they grovelled towards me.
My, wasn't I just a princess of the people?
In moments, I heard, and felt, my far more fearful comrades finding purchase on the ladder. Accepting my natural role as leader, I led the descent with grace and maturity, never once noticing how disgustingly slimy this ladder was, or wondering how much fire would be needed to erase the smell of algae from my clothes afterwards.
“You spoke of dangers,” I said upwards, past Coppelia's graceful figure as she practically slid from rung to rung. “Aside from tunnel bats and tripping over one's feet in the darkness, what other dangers can be expected within the waterways?”
“I … ah, it's quite slippery isn't it? Um, I'm not sure. I would expect monsters to reside in the dark and wet conditions. But from what I know of the well, the only things other than tunnel bats to escape are water slimes and strangler crabs.”
“Creatures that even a newly trained soldier would be expected to readily dispatch. Is that all?”
“I believe so. It's the unknown that concerns me. But so far, I've seen no records to suggest that anything more sinister resides here. I think it'll be fine. Maybe. Probably. I would traverse these caverns myself, but, well … I don't have a glowing sword.”
The alchemist's voice faded with something between shame and embarrassment.
Of course, for an ordinary citizen, even common monsters were beyond them. Slimes, crabs and bats failed to worry me. After all, I had Starlight Grace. And more pertinently, I had a clockwork doll with enough arm strength to propel me to safety if and when required.
Still, I wondered why I could feel goosebumps beginning to appear?
And hmm … what was that ominous groaning in the distance?
“Hey, hey, Juliette?”
I glanced up and frowned. It was one thing for to be spoken to so casually, but the way Coppelia did it with such a blasé smile would have sent tutting hurtling her way in any other context.
Curiously, I didn't find it entirely displeasing. Perhaps because the handmaids who'd served my family longest were permitted in private to refer to us with a degree of informality. It was, in a limited capacity, refreshing.
“Yes, what is it?”
“Well, I just had this thought,” she said, animatedly pointing at her own head. “If we're not actually sure what's beyond this highly suspect well, would it not be prudent to pause, take stock of our limited supplies, re-evaluate the purpose of this hastily arranged venture and perhaps seek even just a little bit of information before ploughing head first into the uncharted darkness?”
I paused to consider a crack in the stone, then waved away Coppelia's concerns.
Really now! Nitpicking over plans is what my brothers and sisters did. And look where that had gotten them. Assigned to ghastly roles filled with royal duties and obnoxious responsibilities, without a minute to spend on their own whims.
That was not the life of luxury I intended to live.
… Moreover, time spent planning was time spent not doing! My livelihood was at stake and I had a long list to go through. I was here to hurry, not to worry!
Thus, I shrugged and continued climbing. But not without giving my answer.
“Ohhohohoho!! Darkness? What need do I have to fear the darkness? Indeed, it is the darkness who should fear me!”
I raised Starlight Grace ever so slightly, drawing on the last gasp of sunlight peering down the well to reflect off its radiant edge. A prism of blinding light momentarily lit up the entirety of the well, before falling solely against the bottom of the well once more.
“Ooooh …”
Coppelia applauded, not even requiring her hands to hold herself steady against the ladder. I accepted it with good grace.
That's right. I had nothing to fear!
For I was the Third Princess to the Kingdom of Tirea. And that meant even this darkness belonged to me. If it troubled me, I'd find a way to tax it!
And yes, that included the strange groaning in the distance too.
