She's rising. Wake up.

You will never make it. She will win.

Cleo digs her nails hard into her thigh under their exclusive table, again and again, needing these whispers to dissappear. She swirls her near empty wine in her glass and downs it quickly, motioning for Sir Evans next to her to pour her sixth glass already.

He gave her a concerned look with those deep blue eyes but obliged her. She didn't even feel wasted, that was what made it worse. The wine dulled the buzz in her ears only scantily, which is why she needed more and more of it to take it away completely.

She looks up to her people all standing watching her like she was the last bone in front of hundreds of hungry dogs. Her gaze kept running from person to person, repeatedly, she made eye contact with the same face about three times already. Why were there so many people here?  And who wears yellow to a ceremony?

To her right was Sir Evans, to her left was an empty seat to where Landon was supposed to be, but the servant forgot to light the candelabras so he got up to do it himself while the entire crowd watched him, whispering and muttering amongst themselves. Little did they know that this wasn't part of the crowning.

They would first eat before doing the rest; she forgot what the entire process was made of, so she would go with the flow.

Next to Landon's open space was Delilah with her chest spilling out of her tight pink corset dress. She flipped her hair over her shoulder way too many times to count. Cleo knew then that Delilah thought this event was entirely for herself.

After that was Andrew and then Kaleb.

She wipes the sweat that had accumulated over her forehead as soon as the whispers began, before turning her head to the left to see the side of Kaleb's face  who was already searching the crowd, standing at the edge of the table close to them.

Could it be his mother he was looking for? Then looking past him was directly to the open floor-to-ceiling windows and the gardens outside. The sun has begun to seat, setting an orange luminescence in the room, bathing it in gentle light that could make her want to simply nap in it.

She liked her seat. If only Evans and Kaleb could switch. Then she would like it more.

Her thighs, back and arms suddenly begins to burn. The exact burns she had when she slipped out of her bath and hugged the floor. The feeling similar to when she turned fire to smoke. The blood boiling itch that never wanted to go away.

She jerks hard, gripping her high-back chair beneath her thighs and arches her back feeling and hearing the massive crack it made in her spinal column. She tugs her lower lip between her teeth then bites hard, feeling her lip split.

Her scarred hands still feels sensitive against certain material like her dress, but God's. Her damn body.

"Miss?" Evans whispers to her, seeing her body move restlessly against her seat. Crossing and uncrossing her thighs, scratching her arms, even though there was no evidence of anything changing on her skin. The two circles remained there with the engravings on them. Like nothing is happening.

"Shut up Evans." She groans between her teeth forcing herself to sit still knowing that she wanted to nakedly  jump into a thorn bush to scratch and pierce every inch of  her skin.

Where was Crawford? That idiot forced himself through. She made a promise to herself to keep an eye on him. Because she feels that something will happen, and it involves him. Like Ezra said.

Where was that big giant today? Strange he wasn't here. She thought he would be here especially for this day and event. Not that it was his problem to begin with, but after being there for her — she finds it rather absurd that he isn't here to begin with.

Just as she was about to start scratching her thighs again with Evans still looking at her with a face full of concern; she sees Kaleb get up and walks down the length of their table and dissappears into the crowd keeping his head low with a slight limp.

She frowns, and has the sudden urge to follow him but her body starts the next big wave of pain. This time she flinches tasting blood from her lips this time.

She could feel Delilah turning her head to face Cleo on her left but Cleo doesn't look at her.

Evans this time lays his hand on her thigh and places his face close to hers his eyes gentle on hers. "What's the matter? Is something bothering you?"

She smacks his hand away and then flicks her fingers in his face close to his eyes to which he retreats immediately, sending her a perturbed expression.

"Bugger off!" She exclaims to Evans, ignoring the looks of everyone around her including Landon; who seems to be finished with the candles. She lifts her dress pushes out of her seat and departs into the crowd mostly in search for Kaleb to see where he disappeared off to.

The crowd split asunder almost immediately when she came there. She ignores the curious eyes and continues between the sea of colour, trying her best to not show how badly her body hurt.

She was going to turn left to a hallway where most of the servants came from to offer snacks and drinks close to the kitchen, when she sees Crawford already standing there. His smirk  bigger than her bed.

"Now. I know you want to rid of me, without making a scene that is, the same you tried to at the door. But trust me darling I won't bite. But I think it is time you need my help."

Cleo wants to scorch him with all the life she has left inside of her until he begged for mercy before her on his knees. But he knows that. Just like he knows what she feels right now. It wasn't at all a coincidence that he had to standing here in between the crowd watching the servants come and go, keeping light conversation with her people; he was watching her. For this entire short period there was. He was waiting for this. For her to come running to him, like he said she would.

"No." She replies before yanking off a glass of wine off a tray as a servant trots by, only realizing now that she walked correctly. She wasn't even drunk after the countless amount of drinks she had.

She walks past him, not feeling the energy to try and rid of Crawford and goes to look for Kaleb.

                                                            °°°

Mira has resorted to trying to find a bathroom, having one too many glasses of wine had its cons. She has asked multiple servants but they all led her into circles. She was beginning to wonder whether the servants actually understood the palace they worked at for countless amounts of years.

She is a little bit lost and is so close to giving up. The hallways made her vision spin and spin. How to get accustomed to this labyrinth of a Court house is the first question she would ask any courtesan residing here. And second would be where all the privies are located and make an immediate note of it.

She is now caught in a hallway with no windows, and instead were lined on each side with various photo's of non-smiling people. She didn't want to read the little captions below, because even then she still wouldn't know who the hell these people are. But she could tell that they were Elementals. The stance they stood in from the bosom up gave that part away. Or perhaps they were courtesans. Mira didn't know.

Just as she decided to pry closer someone came to stand right before her. A big lurking figure. She gasps and jumps back, holding her hand to her chest.

"Apologies. Could you please lead me to where the main event is being held?"

Mira's eyes are wide. She didn't know the answer. She didn't even know where the hell she was.

"Uhh... "

The man with the wicked scar running down his right cheek and long dark hair raises a brow at her.

"I think it's to the left at the end of this hallway." She prays to the Gods that she was right.

He looks behind him over his shoulder to where she motioned with her finger very very shakily. He then faces her and nods before turning around to go down the length of the hallway.

She breathes out, but he glances back running his eyes over every part of her body before giving her another nod and continues.

She brushes off invisible debris off of her dress, especially after the way he looked at her and follows the big man shortly after that.

                                                      °°°

                                                    EZRA

He is extremely impatient. Eager to find her, eager to fully see how this would turn out. That woman didn't know what the hell she was talking about. Ezra got lost, but after he found a few servants he followed them to the massive ballroom. For him that spent a night here with Cleo, he still doesn't know shit about this place.

The suit he bought just this morning for this occasion was pricy, taking up nearly half his savings, but he had to do it. Cleo wouldn't appreciate him coming here with nothing but a loin cloth. So here he is with a ligh gray suit that is too tight. It has a tail coat that Ezra could at least go by but it was just too damn tight. He was just built too big. This is why lack of clothes pleases him to an extent.

He thinks back to the woman in the silver dress. The strange aura she had around her, her eyes that looked lost and innocent. Like she didn't belong here. Ezra tried to make out more about her, but he couldn't.

He declines a glass of wine and looks around, mostly to the front to where they were most likely to be seated. But sees no sign of her.

Where the hell is she?

He curses under his breathe this time snatching a glass of wine off the tray as the servant passed nearly causing him to tumble into a couple of beautifully and overdressed women who sent him dissatisfied looks.

He goes deeper into the thick densely packed crowd. Hoping to see her but there was nothing.

He scans the room again, for any other familiar faces and almost immediately catches sight of the woman in the silver dress. She is shakily speaking to someone, but Ezra could only see his back to see who it is. Perhaps her partner.

She scans the crowd again until her eyes lays on something else or someone else but the man caught her wrist in a tight grip, dragging her close to his side. That startles him a tad. There is no way that a woman should be held like that, it was even clear in her features that she looks afraid but also angry.

She tried dragging her wrist out but he whispered something in her ear instantly halting her actions and she obliged him, even sending him a smile.

Ezra was already close to them now, he would ask her to dance and perhaps then he could try to get through to her and help her, as she is clearly being held here against her will.

The man turns around nearly noticing Ezra, but he froze and hid behind a group of women fanning themselves at the snack table. Ezra bangs his empty glass of wine on the table, not once taking his eyes off the mage. The man he didn't trust. Not one bit.

Why the fuck is he here?

Ezra specifically drilled it into Cleo's head that he shouldn't be anywhere near her. Perhaps he should have taken a note and physically hammer it into her head next time so that she won't forget. He grinds his jaws, not liking the way the event has turned out thus far.

The mage guides the woman to the dance floor where couples has started dancing since the ceremony has come to a halt out of nowhere. The seat is absent. The seat where she was supposed to be.

Ezra needed to find her.

He eyes the mage again, spinning the girl and dipping her over, before she bowed and exited the dance with a mere glance and disappeared into the crowd. Good.

This mage had reason behind his wife's death. Ezra just knows it. Cleo is just too careless to even consider thinking it. This mage knows something that he didn't, he could be the full reason as to why all they died— why they all have dropped dead.

"Alright there love?" Asked a redhead eyeing his big arms with her bottom lip between her teeth in a suggestive look.

Ezra only spares a glance and leaves the loud room. If there was one place Cleo would be, it would be her chambers. She didn't like these crowds, didn't even want to have a ceremony; so Ezra expected this from her.

Another part him as he wound the whimsical hallways, familiar with the route to her chambers only; is feeling ire and disappointment. He had hope in her. Had.

He didn't know about now, not with the current situation-

There lay a figure. On the floor, looking like a sprawl of silk and lace, white lace and black silk. Ezra's heart skips a beat. Again and again and again. It was her.

There a dark pile of liquid. He can't differentiate between wine or blood. And his feet refused to work. She lay in this windowless hallway, only a few more turns away from her room, but she was here alone.

He looks the hallway up and down, not finding anyone else. He then starts speeding towards her, briskly like a strong wind. His heart is thundering so loud he could hear the blood pumping in his ears, sounding like the sea crashing onto the rocky shore back at his abode.

As he gets closer and closer finally reaching her small and slender figure his heart began faltering and his face went cold. The blood draining from nearly every inch of his being.

He kneels down, first noticing the spilled and broken wine glass inches away from her fingertips, then he notices the blood red patches on her arms and face, her skin is layered in sweat, plastering her fringe onto her abnormally pale skin.

She was dying. Decaying. Burning. From inside out. Her skin looks like scales of a mermaid, just in a fiery tinge with a few hints of soot. Fire. She was turning to ash.

Her face too, her lips are drier than a stone, so cracked it hurt to even look at and made Ezra lick his own. She lay on her side, no evidence of anyone pushing her and killing her. It could have been that she passed out from too much, or she really is dying from the burning.

He takes her scarred hand into his own and squeezes tightly, this specific moment reminding him of his last few moments he had with his wife before she disappeared in his arms.

Ezra didn't realize that tears have fallen from his eyes were it not for seeing them drip onto her hands. Those hands that has sacrificed so much to keep them all alive. And yet it wasn't enough.

He begins to shake her, feeling the tremors in his body. She didn't even flinch, he opens her eyes with his thumbs on each side pulling it down but her eyes have rolled to the back of her head.

"Cleo dammit! Wake up!" He now held her shoulders elevating her off the floor slightly as her head falls back. Her long hair coming out of its bun brushing the floor.

He groans and curses. This time blowing air into her mouth softly brushing her lips in the process. She needed water.

Without a second thought, he hoists her up into an all too familiar position then speeds to her room. He breathed in relief when he reached her chambers without colliding into anyone; even though it makes him a tad bit disgruntled that no one came looking for her yet.

Was she not important?

Her door is unlocked by some miracle. He pushes through when a set of dry lips touches his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

"Take me to him."

Dry. Coarse. She could barely speak, it sounds like there was a dry rock in her throat.

She coughs in his arms, so dry she nearly chokes on her own cough. Her throat must have been too dry to even accumulate saliva. But he could at last see her bloodshot eyes.

"What the hell happened?" She looks like absolute shit.

She coughs again, this time it was wet. Ezra didn't like the sound of it.

She straightens herself with flowy eyes as she struggles to inhale and exhale. The burn patches from her skin, Ezra could feel through his suit, heating him.

"Take me to him now." Another cough. "He caused this." Again she coughs. He wants her to stop talking before she runs out of breathe and stops breathing for good.

Ezra frowns at her, she was drunk too. That's why her mind wasn't working correctly. Then she says in a rasping voice, a voice Ezra barely familiarizes himself with.

"I'm going to kill him."