Chapter Text
Westonia and Ostalis: two kingdoms equal in size and arguably so in power.
A forest with no name beyond “The Forest” separates them.
Both humans and magical beings resided in each kingdom for hundreds of years and worked together in harmony to maintain peace. However, a group of humans started to believe that magic has no place near humans and secretly plotted to overtake them. They started their revolution which broke into a war between the two kingdoms with both humans and magical beings caught in the mix. After several years, the kings of both nations decided to end the problem by banishing every being with magic (or anything that is not human) to The Forest to reside forever. Strict boundaries were put on the borders to ensure no one could enter or leave The Forest. Any magical being spotted within the kingdoms will be arrested and put to death.
However, as the years slowly pass, these restrictions have started to loosen and magic has begun to seep through the cracks again.
Anya sits on her stomach with pure wonder in her eyes as she stares at the page. She had read the book more than a hundred times by now but this world fascinates her to an inconceivable extent. She stares down at a series of images intricately woven under the text–the silhouette of two creatures. One appears to be a lion but possesses wings and a tail like a snake which is dubbed “The Chimera”. The other is of similar size and stature but with the head of an eagle and is dubbed “The Griffin”.
She wishes she could see them in real life.
“A customer!”
A loud, shrill voice coming from downstairs breaks the girl from her trance.
“There’s a customer here! Please come downstairs!”
The forced sincerity makes Anya’s stomach churn violently.
Quickly closing her book and shoving it under her pillow, the girl frantically works to put on her shoes and make her way downstairs. The blonde-haired woman she calls her mother stares at her condescendingly at the bottom of the stairs with a vicious smirk.
“Ah, there you are, girl. Go ahead and greet our new guest.”
Fidgeting with her dress, Anya slinks up toward the boy who appears no older than a college student. His black mop of hair covers a good amount of his eyes yet Anya works to maintain eye contact with him. He has a scheming smile of his own as he extends a hand toward the girl.
“Keith Kepler. Your parents have been telling me such wonderful things about you.”
From that moment on, Anya’s suspicions were confirmed: this guy is a filthy liar.
“Anya,” the girl says curtly with an extended hand.
The boy seems slightly taken aback by her attitude as a result of her mother’s awkward laughter. Unknown to Keith, she pulls Anya close to her and begins to pinch the side of her arm tightly. As she feels the familiar feeling of her mother’s long nails digging into her skin, she bites her lip tightly and complies.
“So, Keith. Tell us a bit about yourself,” the woman says as she walks behind the front desk. “Are you a college student?”
“Just out of college for holiday, ma’am. Looking for a cheap place to stay on the way back to my parent’s home on the other side of the country.”
“Oh, how lovely! Well, we both hope that your temporary stay here is a good one.”
The woman walks behind Anya and presses her fingers firmly into her shoulders. Anya tenses up but continues to stare at the boy. As the two adults converse, her brain slowly begins to block out the noise as she keeps her eyes locked onto his. Soon, there is silence. It is suddenly broken by the sound of a crackle and a very familiar voice breaking through.
This chick has no clue I’m gunna rob this trash joint before I go. Stupid dame. It’s like taking candy from a baby.
Known to only her caretakers, this little girl is a telepath.
Anya’s eyes widen as her eyes go from his face to his hand. She watches it fiddle over his pocket with intention. Pulling away from her mother, she approaches Keith with a deadpan expression and shoves her hand quickly into his pocket. Before Keith can object, his pistol rests in her hand. He begins to sputter as he holds up his hands in defense.
“W-Wait, ma’am! I can explain! It’s for self-defense purposes! Honest!”
As Anya’s mother stares down at it, she blinks a few times before beginning to laugh. Her boisterous, snotty laugh fills the room as Keith begins to join in nervously. Anya stares at the two in silence.
“Oh, please,” the mother chortles. “We all have one. But now that I am thinking about it, are you a card-playing man? My husband Dominic and I were just about to start a game in the lounge and he was so hoping you would join.”
Before Keith can say something one way or another, he is already placed firmly into a chair to gaze in terror at the man called Dominic sitting before him. He shuffles the cards with ease and begins to distribute them gracefully. Anya assumes her position under the table near her father’s legs in the cover of the tablecloth.
“Listen, boy,” the husband says sternly but with a smile. “I like to play big. And if you win, we will just forget everything that happened here today and we won’t send you to the cops.”
Keith is taken aback with a sputter, “But how did you–”
“Bet whatever you want but the income of the whole inn is on the table. You could leave this place a very wealthy man.”
Blinded by greed and the need to escape, Keith readily accepts and takes his cards up.
The game proceeds in silence for quite some time. The sound of stacking chips and Keith’s tapping foot are all that can be heard until the crackle of a familiar voice yet again breaks the silence.
A pair of aces! Score! There is no way these sorry saps can beat that. I might not even have to rob this place after all.
The train of thought is interrupted by a different voice of a much angrier caliber.
You brat! I need a king! Hurry up and give me a king!
With a soft gasp, Anya begins to sort through the scattered cards and pulls out a king of hearts. A large hand slides down and snatches it up quickly. Releasing a deep breath, the girl braces herself for what is coming next.
“A royal flush!” Dominic exclaims as the cards are flipped over.
Keith just stares at the table in objective horror as he watches his chips being snatched away. His entire body shakes like mad as he stares up at the menacing couple. Dominic just laughs boisterously.
“Well, that about does it,” the husband continues. “Now, about what you owe me. Something about ten thousand dalc I believe. I may have to check the records again, but I think that sounds factual. Right, Camilla?”
The woman called Camilla nods and leans over her husband’s shoulder to stare at the horrified boy. The light overhead flickers ominously.
“Absolutely right. I sure hope for your sake that you have what you owe us.”
“But I–” Keith makes his way to his feet as his face goes white as a sheet. “Ten thousand dalc? Why on Earth would you think that I have something like that? You’re crazy!”
“Crazy?” Camilla releases a patronizing laugh. “You’re crazy if you think you can just walk away from this without paying your dues.”
“I don’t have that kind of money, lady! It would take me years to get that kind of cash!”
The couple looks at each other for a moment before Camilla stands up. She goes over to a curtain on the wall and flicks it away to reveal a lever.
“Well, we have the perfect place to keep people like you. And don’t worry–we will pay you a dalc a day toward your debt. Now get to work.”
Once Camilla pulls the lever, the floor underneath Keith’s chair opens up and sucks the screaming boy down. The room is left in silence once again. Anya chooses to make her way out from under the tablecloth to stare at the celebrating couple.
“Oh, didn’t I tell you, Dominic? I knew this brat would be useful when we saw her at that disgusting orphanage!”
“You are such a genius, my darling. And that’s why I married you.”
The two brush their noses together menacingly before diving into a deep kiss. Anya turns away stiffly and leaves without a word as the sounds of soft moaning begin to fill the room.
The girl makes her way up the stairs and into her room while taking in the much-needed sound of silence surrounding her. She falls over on her bed and stares up at the ceiling. The creaky fan just barely turns and the paint chipping off of the ceiling is almost entertaining to observe. As she closes her eyes, she begins to transport herself back into the world of the books she has read and a smile begins to appear on her face.
Princess, castles, and chimeras. Why can’t I live in a world like that?
It has been no more than a week since the sudden passing of the queen.
Henry rests dully at his desk with his chin in his hand as he just blankly stares out the window. He fidgets with a pen in his other hand. The sound of the grandfather clock can be heard ticking in the corner. Loneliness remains his only companion now. While in most cases, this could be good for productivity, there is the important fact that not only is there no longer a queen in Westonia but also no heir to the throne. He stares dully at the scattered pieces of paper resting under his elbows. However, one in particular catches his eye. The emblem of a griffin can be seen at the top followed by an elegant paragraph of writing. His eyes widen slowly at the sight as an idea begins to infiltrate his seemingly dormant mind.
“Murdoch. I require your assistance.”
As if waiting just outside the door, the aforementioned butler makes his way into the room. A single glass of wine rests on a platter in his hand. He bows deeply and masterfully.
“Of course, sir. Anything you say will be so.”
Making his way onto his feet, Henry folds his hands politely and stares down at the man with a raise of his eyebrows.
“I am in need of an heir. I wish to go out and find one.”
Murdoch nearly fumbles with the platter entirely as his eyes shoot out of his skull. He clears his throat a few times in a feeble effort to regain his composure.
“I…I am not sure…that I understand…your majesty.”
Henry releases a deep exhale through his nose with an elegant sort of impatience. He taps his foot slightly in thought.
“You know as well as I do that I am in no position again to marry. There isn’t a soul in any country East or West that could want a man like me.”
“But, sir. You are only thirty–”
“Nevertheless, my point still stands. A queen is not important now but an heir most certainly is. I am in need of a little girl.”
“A girl?” Murdoch approaches the king slowly with an air of apprehension. “But…but what good would a girl as an heir do for the royal family?”
Henry pauses for a moment and stares down at the butler with a raise of his eyebrow. His fingers begin to fidget slightly with a jitter.
“There are…factors in place that I am not at liberty to discuss. The girl will be an essential factor in permanent peace between East and West. And with that said, I expect you to comply with my request and take me into the city.”
Murdoch tugs at his collar and bows without another word.
In the comfort of his private vehicle, Henry surveys the streets of the city he is so used to gazing down upon. He observes so many numerous individuals in every stage of life living their own respective lives. It fascinates him greatly. And yet, after an array of orphanage visits, Henry quickly begins to lose hope.
A suitable heir does not exist in this place. If there was, she would simply have to appear before me.
Henry is broken from his thoughts by the car suddenly jolting to a stop and sending him nearly flying through the windshield. His monocle pops out of his eye as he works to regain his posture.
“I say, man! What was that for? Keep your eyes on the road!”
As the driver begins to stumble through an apology, Henry tunes him out and simply stares through the windshield. A girl no older than seven or eight stands in front of the car like a deer in headlights. Her eyes are wide and full of sheer terror yet she doesn’t run away. It intrigues Henry to the point where he leaps out of the backseat and rushes toward her. Ignoring the chatter of the people around him observing his presence in the open, he lowers himself down gently to the girl’s level.
“Are you alright, my dear? You do know you almost lost your life.”
Anya stares up at the man in silent wonder. She takes in the sight of his extremely nice clothes and his eloquent voice. A sound of a similar caliber begins to ring through her head with a fizzle.
Her poise and character are much more unique than any of the other girls I have come to meet today. It is almost like she has no idea I am the king.
Anya’s eyes widen in excitement as her jaw falls agape. She places her hands proudly on her hips and strikes a heroic pose for the man in front of her.
“I’m sorry for running in the road. But don’t worry. I’m not afraid.”
Henry is instantly taken aback in the form of a loud gasp as he stares in awe at the pink-haired lass standing before him.
How incredibly elegant! She has no fear even in the face of certain death!
Anya just chuckles and extends a hand to the man.
“I’m Anya!”
Henry observes the girl’s greeting gently before noticing the dirt cacking her hands and fingernails. He recoils with a flinch before pulling out his handkerchief. After wrapping it around her palm, he shakes her hand.
Eugh. She is extremely grimy, but I suppose that is something that can be repaired. She does seem to have good potential for being a princess.
A princess?! Just like in my book! Anya yells within her mind as her eyes remain wide. Working to channel a spirit of inner royalty, she alters her posture and works to stand nice and tall. Grabbing the sides of her skirt, she gives the king a small, shaky curtsy.
Henry stares down at the girl in wonder. Despite her being positively clumsy, something about her gentle, curious spirit draws him in. A heavy exhale finally leaves his body and causes a soft smile to appear on his face.
“My girl, do you have any place that you call home? I would like to escort you there myself.”
At his words, the girl tenses up as all of her bravery seems to leave her in an instant. Her eyes dart toward an alleyway on her left as she begins to sputter slightly.
“Ah, I see. Just as I thought,” Henry makes his way back onto his feet. “Well, in that case, would you take me to wherever you dwell currently? I would like to speak with whoever runs the orphanage you are in.”
Orphanage? Is that what he thinks? I wish I was lucky enough to be back there. Anya thinks curtly to herself as she gently takes the man’s hand. Despite feeling him tense up because of the dirt on her hands, she kindly leads him through the streets and remains purposefully ignorant of the hoard of dark-suited men following behind them.
Upon reaching the property of the inn, Anya spies the familiar figure of the woman she has been forced to call mother. Camilla frantically paces the porch with a wired phone pressed up against her ear. Despite her boisterous voice usually carrying, it is hard for the group to hear what is being said. However, it is clear that she is furious. Breaking away from the king’s hand, she rushes toward the building as Camilla nearly pounces onto her like a tiger.
“You little brat! Where the hell have you been?! I have been on the phone with the cops for the last hour! Why I oughta put you in the basement with those other workers and–”
Camilla instantly falls into a state of shock as she stares past Anya toward the finely dressed men lingering a few yards away from them. With a gasp of instant recognition, she gingerly presses Anya toward her with a fake smile and a wave.
“Oh! Hello there, your majesty! Are you the one who found my Anya?”
Growing both agitated and disgusted by the woman, Henry approaches the two slowly with an air of hesitation.
“Yes, I suppose I am. Are you the girl’s mother?”
“Well, that really depends on why you are asking.”
“I wish to adopt the girl. I do not believe that should be of any trouble as she clearly appears to be something of a burden for you regardless.”
As Camilla begins to sputter, Anya and Henry make eye contact and the little girl gives him a sly wink. The woman calls for her husband who groggily and hungover stumbles his way onto the porch. He rubs a hand under his nose with a loud sniffle.
“Who’s this clown? Is he trying to impersonate the king?” Dominic laughs drunkenly. “Hey, we don’t pay performers around here, buddy!”
Before the king can say a word about this, Camilla slams her heel into the top of her husband’s shoe. The man cries out in agitation before taking a few seconds to take in the sight before him. His eyes widen in embarrassment.
“Yes, well. I see the sort of people you are,” Henry mutters in agitation. “I do not wish to trouble you any longer, but I do wish to adopt the girl.”
Camilla and Dominic look at each other for a moment before they break into a false sense of longing and envelop Anya in a tight hug.
“How could you ever think we would let you take our precious little peanut away from us?” Dominic weeps exaggeratedly. “Nothing means more in the world to us than our precious little Anna.”
“It’s Anya,” the girl mumbles.
As Henry fully begins to realize what kind of people these are, he chooses to go for the low-hanging fruit.
“No more words. Fifteen hundred dalc will be sent to you in exchange for your sacrifice here today.”
Without a second thought, the couple pushes the girl away toward the man and takes a definitive stance away from her.
As she finally feels the sensation of freedom rushing over her, Anya skips toward the king and gently wraps her arms around his legs in a hug. Henry is instantly rendered speechless and kindly works to pry her dirty hands off of him.
“Come, Anya. Let’s not trouble ourselves with goodbyes. It won’t take them long to forget.”
As the two of them begin to walk back toward the car, Anya doesn’t look back for a second. All of her belongings there mean nothing to her now. She no longer needs her books either.
They are now her life.
