Fallen One (Book three of Alfireán age)

- Angelic Fury -

Drake watched Alf as he paced back and forth. Every few seconds, the young High Lord glanced over at the two women sitting in the foul-smelling field.

Alfonso wasn't the only one upset with the situation, but Drake's and Alf's reasons were vastly different. The prince crossed his arms. His entire nation was in shambles, and every minute Vackzilian was tightening his grasp on Alfireá. They did not have time for this emotional tomfoolery. It was times like this Drake wished he was still surrounded by the professionals he'd often worked with and not the untrained High Lord and his high-strung healer.

Drakovian closed his eyes and massaged his temples. Patience was a virtue, and he had no choice but to make do with the resources he had at hand.

"I think I should go over and apologize," Alf said, coming to a stop.

"Give it a break. You're like a lovesick puppy dog whining for his master's attention," Zaphaniea commented from her floating perch, where she was in the process of creating a virtual fortress of pin-sized small spheres.

"But-"

"No, she's right," Drake agreed with the champion. "Your time would be much better spent doing something productive."

Alf frowned. "Productive?"

"Yes. This seems to be somewhat of a tranquil location, and Zaphaniea appears to have things well in hand; as such, I think now is an excellent time for you to refine your control over magic," the prince told the young High Lord

"Oh," Alf said, looking hesitantly down at the bracers on his wrists.

The grand champion sat up, her fiery red hair floating in the breeze as her glowing spheres circled her. "Ooh, let's see how long it takes you this time."

Alfonso's face filled with dread. "But the monsters and-"

"Don't worry about them. I can handle anything that comes close," Zaphaniea said, waving her hand around, her wall of deadly spheres mimicking her movements. "You need to practice."

Alf glowered at the champion, none too happy with the impish smile on her face.

"What are you guys talking about?" Pony asked, glancing up from picking through the grass beside the road.

"The Basanizos Alf is wearing," her sister said, jutting her chin at Alf's hands as she buried her nose in a palmed sized scrying of some book or other.

"Oh," the youngest maid said as she realized what the cuffs were. "But I thought the Emperor outlawed them."

Scarlett shrugged, "Apparently, the new would-be Emperor has made them legal again."

Pony's brown eyes swiveled to Drake. "But they are horrible, mean thin-"

"Enough," Drake said, cutting her off. "We can discuss their legalization at some other time. Alf, please make use of this time to practice your skills."

Alf's already somber mood sank even lower. "All right," he mumbled, raising his hands.

***

Olivia sat in the dirt, plucking the white petals from the lone flower as the head maid made her way back to the others. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head towards the heavens. Like a zookeeper trying to catch a runaway group of spider monkeys, Olivia struggled with everything Silver had told her, but the facts stared her straight in the face. Still, it was hard to admit that she was such a mess—almost impossible really. Even now, looking back in her mind, she could perfectly justify all of her actions. Suddenly, one of the ancient texts came to mind.