Netori: Stealing The Hero's Party!

The island city of Aranuvia, a paradise at sea. It had more land than its citizens could ever need, and with no signs of monsters on their land, their children and livestock grew healthy. As long as they kept the bay and had minimal interaction with the hell's sea, there was nothing that could threaten their lives, not the enemy nations nor disease.

Yet, even in a land free of violence, people died and had to be buried in a cemetery. One such cemetery was the most renowned, not because of some overblown sighting of a spirit, but rather a chilling phenomenon that happened every waking moment.

"Hey…Isn't that the girl?" In whispers, people talked about Choux as she opened the cemetery gate with a snowdrop flower held in her hand. Drowning away their voices by the sound of the creaking gate, she continued walking down the stone path between the many graves.

"Is she visiting that grave again?" But as soon as she was past the gate, the voices quickly returned. Eyeing her from a distance, even pointing at her like an oddity, the people of Aranuvia treated her like a curiosity. Their eyes followed her closely–the weight of which weighed heavily on Choux's small shoulders.

Squeezing one hand against her heart and the other around the flower's stem, she closed her eyes and traced the path she usually took to get to her brother's grave.

Letting go of all sense by folding her tall ears upon themselves, refusing to breathe through her nostrils, and keeping her eyes shut, she distanced herself from the real world and relied on her memory alone until she found herself standing before the frozen grave.

Opening her eyes, she glanced through her hazy vision at the frozen headstone before her. Rubbing her eyes with her left hand, she lowered herself to the ground and put the snowdrop on her brother's grave.

"I hope they're still your favorite," shaking her head, Choux glanced over to the flower and the frozen grave of her little brother. "Not the flower I would pick, but you've always been stubborn so I won't fight over it."

Wearing a faint smile, her gaze lifted to the nameless headstone frozen in solid ice. Reaching forward with her dainty fingers, she ran a finger down its length before slowly pulling herself away. Glancing back down, she sat down on the ground and began her blabber like always.

"Still angry?" With a deep breath and a sigh, she rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Come one, talk to me, it's been what? A lifetime, maybe? You know I can't count!"

Glancing away with her cheeks puffed with cold air, Choux awaited her brother's response, but like always, he was acting out again. Slowly turning her head back to him, she wore a weak smile and began carving a face on the frozen floor with her sharp nails.

"I know I know, you're still mad at me…but I'm trying my best, right?" Lifting her head slightly, she stared at his headstone again. "We'd be able to play together soon, and you can throw as many snowballs at me as you like, I won't complain."

Silence, not a word did he speak and anger began to brew in Choux's head. However, taking a deep breath again, she reached into her thick coat and took out a frozen apple. Resting it on the grave as well, she watched it freeze over much like the headstone and the flower that she'd brought.

"We don't have to worry about food here, there's more than enough for us both…" Putting her hand on the ground, Choux leaned slightly backways and placed her legs beside her brother's. "We don't have to sleep off our hunger, wake up and we can eat together as much as our belly can stuff."

Again, not a word; but this time it wasn't anger that Choux felt but grief. Pulling herself forward again, she crossed her legs and sat before him in a proper manner. Faking a smile and the enthusiasm behind it, she pumped her body up and down to excite her brother out of his grave.

"There's no wolves and crows here either! We can play, eat and do whatever you want! Ju-" A gust of wind brushed against her cheeks and her hair nearly stabbed her in the eye. Her words cut short and her train of thoughts escaping, Choux opened her eyes hoping to see her brother pushing the hair off her face.

But reality was far colder than her heart and there were still no signs of her brother waking up. In his silence, however, the voices from the strangers returned to Choux's ears, she could hear their whispers, their talk about her weird actions and appearance.

None truly knew who the nameless headstone belonged to, so some kneaded rumors of it being her young husband, a sweetheart, but for some reason, never a brother or just family.

Conspiracy–it fueled their thrust for drama and curiosity, it made them feel like they'd discovered something unknown to the others.

'I should've gotten used to these things, but…' Squeezing her legs closer, Choux buried her face against her knees and folded her ears closed again. Yet in silence, she could hear their words echoing in her head with no signs of stopping, ever.

"What a case of weirdos…"

"Why does the king even allow demis to be on our island?"

"I heard the king has a taste for demis so maybe…"

"And just look at that grave, pretentious magic to seem special!"

The voices of those strangers felt more fierce than the fangs of wolves on that unfortunate night, and their complaints and bickering were no less than the pecking of crows on her flesh.

'Daema, come please…' Calling out to her pet dragon, Choux awaited its screech with her head pressed against her knees. It took him a while to descend from the skies and land inside the cemetery and only after his presence had blurred everyone's vision, did Choux lift her head to leave.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

But before she flew away, the girl with the appearance of a child yet having lived many lifetimes, looked at her brother and breathed a promise.

"I'll get that flower for you the next time I visit…" Parting with those words, she went off to the shores to join the war efforts. Stay tuned with empire

A flower, a flower, what a delicate thing it is. One chased it for the death of a devil, and the other, to breathe life into the diseased. Where could one find it? The flower with countless souls held within? Where else but…

'The king's treasury, I have to get that flower from there from him and for him…' The little girl was determined but so was the witch, now whose hands shall it fall into? That remains to be seen.