Perched atop the west battlement of the Demonstone Castle, Isola was a silhouette against the red daylight as her glowing white hair danced in the air.
Her gaze, awash with curiosity, swept across the landscape that unfolded before her.
She drank in the scene of the bustling towns, their cobblestone streets teeming with a multitude of races, all cohabiting in an unusual harmony.
From the towering minotaurs to weak goblins, every individual had a place here in the Bloodburn Kingdom.
Her entire life, she had been cloistered in the aquatic darkness, and the vibrant surface world was an enticing mystery she couldn't resist unraveling.
The customs and mannerisms of the land-dwelling folks were a captivating spectacle, an enthralling dance of cultural nuances.
Some facets seemed eerily familiar, mirroring the societal practices she was accustomed to in the depths of the ocean. Yet, the majority were alien, intriguing, and entirely captivating.
Just as she expected, it was a different world above the seas.
Her people's history painted a starkly different picture of the Bloodburn Kingdom. A land of chaos, bloodshed, and perpetual discord.
But the reality before her eyes contradicted those tales. Could the passage of thousands of years have softened the edges of this once ruthless kingdom? Or had her ancestors' accounts been tainted with bias and resentment?
Lost in her musings, Isola barely registered the rhythmic thud of footsteps echoing on the stone walkway behind her. A sense of familiarity washed over her, her fins flinching instinctively.
"Ah, if it isn't the princess," Asher's voice broke through her reverie.
Isola put on a guarded expression, her eyebrows pulling together as Asher's voice pierced the tranquil silence.
He approached her with an easy gait, a playful grin adorning his face, "Here I thought you'd be enjoying the pool in your room instead of standing out here in the heat," Asher said as he leaned against the parapet while standing beside her.
She drew a slow, sharp breath, the crisp air filling her lungs, her gaze still avoiding him, "I didn't expect to see you up and about so soon," she countered, her voice carrying a hint of accusation, "And just because I hail from the darkness of the sea, doesn't mean I'm fond of spending all my time submerged," Her eyes became distant with a hint of wistfulness as she continued, "It's time to finally explore the outside world."
Asher simply nodded, a knowing smirk playing on his lips, "You'll have plenty of time to explore it now," he remarked casually.
His gaze then turned sharper, eyes piercing into her with an intensity that made her take a quick glance at him through her peripheral vision, "But I'm curious... why did you save me?"
The question hung in the air, a sudden intrusion into their conversation.
Isola felt a surge of surprise, but she masked it well, her face as calm as the still ocean surface.
She tilted her head slightly, her long hair swaying gently in the morning breeze, her eyes taking a quick glance at him before looking away, "Don't misunderstand," she said, her voice steady, "I didn't do it for you. I did it for the sake of my people. I wouldn't want their fate to be in the hands of someone worse than you."
Asher's chuckle echoed against the stone walls of the battlement, his eyes twinkling with mirth, "You made a good judgment there, princess," he responded while seeing how the reason was just as he expected.
Isola turned her gaze back towards the horizon, her voice softening, "There's another reason, too," she murmured, her tone barely above a whisper, "For the sake of the baby Kraken. I am sure you haven't forgotten the fact that she has imprinted on you too."
Asher gave a noncommittal shrug, his eyebrows furrowing slightly, "Why does that matter?" His question held a hint of genuine confusion, his experience with companionship of beasts and monsters practically nonexistent. He never found the need to have one.
Isola sighed, a tired, weary sound that seemed to echo her inner turmoil wondering if he was messing with her or that he genuinely doesn't know.
However, remembering that Asher had only woken up from his mysterious soul-less state not too long ago, she felt it must be the latter.
Her voice held a firmness that commanded attention as she explained, "When a being imprints on someone, it's an absolute trust, an unwavering love. If they have to, they would follow that person to even the place of no return like Tartarus. Given that the baby Kraken's mother died because of you, we are, in a sense, its parents even if we aren't technically. It's a newborn, and it needs both of us just like any other baby. If it loses connection with one of us, it would be devastating for its mental development, possibly even fatal."
Asher was taken aback by the intensity of Isola's explanation, the depth of the imprinting process far surpassing his initial assumptions.
Isola, catching the shadow of doubt flickering in his eyes, added with a firm, determined tone, "You can't take this lightly. We need to visit the baby Kraken every day and bond with her. Even if you refuse to come, at least let me see it. Consider it a favor for saving your life."
A soft chuckle escaped Asher's lips, "I didn't exactly ask you to save me, princess," he pointed out, a teasing glint in his eyes that made Isola's hands clench into fists. How could he be so flippant, so ungrateful?
Before she could voice her frustration, however, Asher's voice cut through her brewing tensed mind, "Relax," he said, his tone mellowing, "I was already planning on visiting the Naiadon Tribe daily. To keep an eye on your people, and to help create a path for us to coexist."
Asher already had planned to make himself quite familiar with the baby Kraken so that when it grows up, he can make good use of it.
He didn't know what he was supposed to do exactly, but he was ready to follow Isola's lead.
A wave of relief washed over Isola, softening her rigid stance. Perhaps she had been too quick to worry.
She looked at Asher, her resolve hardening, and couldn't help but feel that he seemed to have a knack for tricking her too easily. She warned herself again to be extra mindful whenever he talked.
However, since she was worried that the baby Kraken was highly dependent on someone like him, she was determined to make him understand the value of the precious life that had imprinted on them, to make him understand how the baby Kraken was more than just a potential weapon.
Then maybe he won't try to take advantage of it.
"By the way, I was meaning to ask you…," Asher began, his gaze still fixed on her, "Do you enjoy singing? Does your power come from your voice?" His tone held a hint of curiosity, a recollection of her voice echoing in his mind during their ordeal in the belly of the Kraken. It was a trait that suggested she possessed the Willbending Pathway with a specialization in the rare and powerful Mindforce abilities.
He also remembered the strange dream he had that was still tugging at him in a way. It was the first time he ever had such a dream that felt real yet so distant.
Isola nodded slowly, her brows knitting together, "Why are you asking if you already know?" she challenged, a hint of defensiveness lining her voice.
Asher's brows furrowed, his gaze finally shifting to meet hers, "Because your people shouldn't possess such abilities, yet you do. You're the only Umbralfiend I've seen with these powers, and even your appearance deviates from the norm in some ways," he pointed out, his tone carrying a note of intrigue.
Isola's gaze slid away from his, "I know I look a bit different," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, "But it is just a mutation of my bloodline and nothing else," She said as she kept shifting her gaze.
Asher chuckled inwardly, her evasion transparent. Clearly, she was uncomfortable sharing more and was so bad at lying. But it was not like he cared about it much to dig into it.
All he cared about was the potential he saw in her voice, in her powerful mind abilities. He had a feeling that even Isola herself had not yet fully grasped the extent of her powers.
He then reached out, tapping lightly on the sky blue fin protruding from the side of her head, "Come with me," he said, his tone lighthearted yet firm, "We're going to visit your father, princess."
Isola suddenly flinched, making her purse her lips at the contact with her fin, clearly not appreciating his teasing.
But at the mention of visiting her father, her face lit up, her previous annoyance forgotten.
She nodded, falling into step beside him, eager to see her parents and her people finally, though she felt like telling him, "You can stop calling me princess by the way," She felt he was doing it to rub on her wounds since her status and title was stripped away.
"Sure, princess."
"Ha...not even the devils can save you..."
In the shadowy recesses of the chilling Dreadthorne Castle, the meeting hall echoed with the frustrated sigh of a woman, her ravishing beauty illuminating the somber darkness.
Clad in a elegant black gown that enhanced her ample curves, Rebecca paced the cold, stone floor, her ruby lips pressed into a thin line of displeasure.
Intricate chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, their flickering light casting an eerie dance of shadows across the room.
A full ten minutes had passed since her arrival, and yet, she was left waiting. The audacity of such disrespect stirred a dangerous fire in her heart, yet also a hidden tension.
She was on the brink of walking away, unwilling to endure this further, when the large iron doors creaked open, disrupting her indignant thoughts.
The mature woman clad in a dark blue gown who entered was beautiful, though not standing out as much as the other woman in the hall.
Still, her icy gaze was as sharp as a freshly honed blade, boring into Rebecca.
Esther stepped into the room, the doors closing behind her with an ominous thud.
"Sister," Rebecca began, her arms crossed over her chest, her voice echoing in the large hall, "What is the meaning of this?"
Esther advanced, her footsteps echoing ominously against the stone floor, her gaze never wavering from Rebecca's irked eyes.
Her response, when it came, was as chilly as her demeanor, "Why ask a question to which you already know the answer?" she retorted sternly, making Rebecca narrow her eyes.
