"I'm very much real, though not used to this world," Asmodeus responds, and my shoulders tense up. I clench my fists and simply glare at the man. He used to be daunting, but I no longer feel intimidated by his stature unlike the first time around. 

Despite my will to smack him across the face, I resist the urges and take in a deep breath, walking past both and soon against the tabletop. I glance at my nails and then back to the man who stares at me intently. His eyes reflect mostly interest. 

"I hope you're feeling better; I recognize that the transition must have not been easy."

"You didn't tell me that I would need to drink blood to survive." 

"Well, what did you think? That this who thing would not have repercussions? I gave you life, so you need to take life in return." 

"Wish you bloody told me that before," I mumble quietly. Yet, he scoffs aloud and shakes his head. 

"You would have accepted anyway; I am not blind nor stupid, Alice. We both know what would be going on if you didn't accept." 

I let out a 'tsk' and shook my head, trying not to become agitated with the man. He comes off as arrogant, and it is taking me everything not to snap at him, but, no, I must keep my calm or else something bad will happen. I have learned a few things in life, one of them is to never pick battles you cannot win. This is simply not a battle between him and me, it is a war. Yet should there even be a conflict in the first place? Isn't he just trying to help me, no?

 No, he is not. 

"I am not here to argue with you, so we shall make this rather quickly. I am at as much of a loss as to who killed you than you are."

"How? You predicted this, so do not you know who killed me? Does anyone bloody know at this point?" 

"All I knew is you were going to die, but I don't know whose hand did it." I let out a sigh and bring a hand to my temple, attempting to rub any agitation that might be settling deep within the roots of my head. 

"Great," I throw my hands down and walk towards Asmodeus, giving him a long glare, deep into his rose-colored irises. They scream at me; they beg for mercy. Those eyes have seen things that no other person should dare be exposed to, and I feel pity for him, in a way. 

I shake my head and let out a breath," so we know that Daniel was instructed by the king to prepare the dress. I know that I have royal blood instilled in me. And Asmodeus, you know that someone was going to kill me. So, let us put this all together and let us say, as a pure guess, that the king wanted me dead." 

"I would say that is a good guess, he isn't known to be the most fair-playing man. That is the easy part, to assume, the more difficult part is guessing who he put up the task. Do we have any ideas what even happened?"

"Magic is certainly involved," I point out as my mind reflects to that moment that I was killed. The way my body was forced out into the hallway against my will, the idea of how magic was infused into my body. It shot in and out, beaming through my organs, taking away my life within a mere second. I shiver with pain, despite it not being real, the idea of it still is torture, it hurts me. Perhaps, just, not a literal pain.

 

"Well, we have all the magic users recorded in the catalogs deep within the kingdom library. I certainly can get into that with my title. Yet we stumble upon another issue."

"There are multiple magic users." 

"Correct," it feels like every time we take a step forward, we take two steps backward. We know it is a magic user, we know that the king somehow got them involved, we just have no idea what the magic user is, nor do we have any idea where in the world where to go with this large puzzle. 

"What can I do to help?" Asmodeus asks aloud, and both Celia and I turn to look at him. I know my face carries a tinge of irritation as my face mouth grows into a slight frown and I cross my arms. There is not much he can do is there? 

An idea suddenly pops into my head, and I can feel a small smile light up my face. 

Yes, perfect. 

"Do you have illusion magic, Asmodeus? I'm talking strong magic." He gives me a confused look while slowly nodding. I figure someone of his caliber might have magic that they have on their hands, so why not? Why not ask and give it a shot? 

"Celia do you by chance have another ring or ---" I pause for a moment while looking to the kitchen table. There sits Mama's necklace, or rather what is left of it. There might be no gem in the middle, but the chain still seems to be intact. I walk over to the table and grab the chain that rests along. 

I walk back over to Asmodeus and place the necklace in his hands. He tilts his head at me and looks at the flimsy piece of metal, seemingly intrigued. 

"Can you infuse the necklace with a bit of illusion magic? I need to hide," I open my mouth and point to my fangs, "these." 

Asmodeus raises his hand and lifts it under my chin. He quietly examines the fangs that protrude out of my gums. He nods his head and takes his hand back while looking back at the necklace. 

He gives me a smile, "give me till tomorrow when the moon strikes the midst of the sky. The necklace should be prepared by then." 

-

"Good morning, Alice." I feel my eyes open slightly, as I stretch along my cot. I can see Mama preparing a mush in the corner as she looks towards me, a smile beaming from the crevices of her mouth. Excitement boils within me as the pure warmth, the energy that surrounds her is enough to fuel the entire marketplace. 

"Good morning, mama! You're up early!" 

"We have a long day today. The sun will be coming in and the heat will be nothing short of treacherous. Our job today is tending to the animals and crops." 

I nod my head as Mama walks over to me and hands me the bowl full of food. I look at Mama and then to the contents within the bowl and nearly let out a scream. The bowl was . . . red. The contents smelled of rotten food, chunks of flesh boiling from underneath as blood dripped along the edges. I shakily dip my spoon and taste the contents only to spit it back out. It is as good as it looked. 

"Wh - what is this, Mama?" 

"Well, it's your food, my love. Is something wrong with it?" I nervously look at Mama as her sweet smile seems to be a bit more sinister, but I cannot put my finger on why. For she smiles with her pearly whites; her baby blue irises reflect joy, hope. Perhaps it is all in my head, right? 

After a few awkward moments of silence, I can sip away at the mush, but each little taste seems viler than the last. I am quick to accept that, perhaps I will not be able to stomach anything. 

Mama and I eventually "finish" our early morning breakfast, and we put on our summer clothes and head outside. I wear a thin, white cotton dress that has puffed out sleeves and that falls to just below my knees. Mama wears a tan dress that looks much the same, just with a few buttons on the front. We both wear a bonnet to maintain our hair as much as possible through the upcoming sweltering heat. 

We march our way to the farmhouse where other people have started to work. Most of them are tending to the crops that lie outside, making sure that they are getting the proper nutrients and water intake. There are perhaps three people on the field, one of them is a magic user. For he wears a different set of clothing, more formal pursue. Not to mention, he is working on a few plants, a bit of green smoke illuminating from his hands. Not difficult to tell, anyway. 

"What's the job today, Mama?"

"One of the calves got sick, so one of us will have to tend to her. The other one will do the classic feeding and washing of the animals. Pretty simple work if I say so."

"Yes, Mama!" 

We both enter through the barn door, and I can spot the multitude of animals that are awake and bustling. Some of the same species are interacting with each other while others rest peacefully, waiting to be fed or just to simply be, left alone. 

"Maena is the ill one," Mama points out to a young horse. Her Maine is a bright blue, and the rest of her body is a darker blue, fit for the mountains and heavy weather. Surely, she must be ill from the weather outside; I am sure that I would be too in a thick main such as hers. Poor girl. 

"You can handle her, Mama. I will do my rounds."

"You are sure, Alice?"

"Yep!" My voice is chirpy as my feet skim along the ground. I feel like I am moving on the surface of a cloud, easy to feel, easy to fly. I walk to a closet on the side of the barn and grab a large, sea-green wheelbarrow. It moans and groans with weathering age, but I ignore it and proceed to set it out while I search for the cow food. I peer within the closet, but something just simply does not feel right. 

I peer around my corner and look around the barn, but I only see Mama tending to the lone horse in the corner of the barn. I shake my head and ignore the paranoia that is settling along my shoulders. 

I let out a hallow breath and my eyes spot the large bag of cow food and lift it up, despite struggling, onto the wheelbarrow. 

I let out a breath and wipe a bead of sweat that falls along my head. The heat is already settling in, and the sun has not even started to break the plane of clouds. 

My feet follow around the familiar track of the barn, and every animal ends up being well-fed and healthy. At times, the animals will let me even pet them whereas others simply just look at me and eat their food like I am their royal feeder. 

I will typically just shake my head and go on my way, trying to be as cheery with the next animal as my last. Yet, something is not sitting well within my stomach. I am continuously looking around my shoulder, expecting someone to show up suddenly and toss me to the ground. Perhaps it is the annoyance, did something happen in the recent morning? Did I possibly piss off an animal or anger another human being? 

I shake my head no and eventually start with the next round of food, this time I switch over to the horse food. Yet, when I grab the horse food, there is another odd feeling that peaked over my shoulder and travels through the start of my bones. I find myself whipping my head around to see, well, nothing. 

"For the love of Gala, Alice. It is nothing," I hiss aloud as I wipe my hands on my dress, getting rid of the excess dirt that has settled along my palms. 

I soon start feeding the horses and look back to Mama as she continues to tend to the one horse. She is putting small ice packs on her body to attempt to cool her down from the possible heat that is enclosing our kingdom. 

When I finish my rounds with the last few horses, I put the wheelbarrow back, along with the food, and walk back over to Mama. She is in the horse's kennel and is petting her main, attempting to soothe any possible nerves that might be exasperating her symptoms.

"What next, Mama?" She looks back at me, but her eyes are now wide. It is not with excitement, not with joy, no they are wide with terror.

"Alice!" She screams aloud raising a hand to grab me, but I fall to my knees as a piercing pain echoes throughout my stomach. 

I look down to my stomach and see that my light dress is stained heavily with deep red blood. The stain is expanding and the blood drips outward, staining the following floor around it. 

I reach to grab the wound, but there is nothing there. My head looks back around, for there I see a body. My eyes trail upwards, from boots to trousers to shirt sleeves, to eventually the shoulders. However, I am unable to see the face. It is glistening white; I am unable to make out any facial features. There is only a single white face. 

The person lets out a gentle snicker and taps his foot against the ground,

"Hello, Alice."

Only then do I slump against the floor as my eyes close, my vision fading to black.