The Doomed Saintess

At my feet, light fades from cursive lines interlocked inside a vast circle. The five rulers stand all around.

    Agape, I don’t utter a single word.

“I recognise them…”

    Long, sharp ears picking through pale blond hair, an elegant moustache of the same tint… saffron freckles under his eyes. Eyes of a pale green which observe me with a certain interest… The King of Daoine Sidhes.

“Am I not supposed to be dead?”

    Piercing ruby orbs, horns raising from his messy raven black hair. Arms-crossed, his chin raised. The King of Druks.

“That’s not even my body.”

    Golden rings placed on thick strands of his generous red beard. The puzzlement is obvious in his citrine eyes as he rubs the latter. He’s way smaller than any other being here, nonetheless no one would doubt the strength of the Knockers’ chief’s seasoned hands.

“At this rate, as unbelievable as it may seem, there aren’t many explanations left.”

    Wearing a dress of the finest fabric with large, oversized sleeves, her clothes as well as her accessories are perfectly chosen to praise her physical assets. She keeps her eyes closed, the ends of her fox ears twitching. The ruler of the Beastmen.

“I’ve been reincarnated as the Saintess in Kingdoms of Sin’s game.”

“Honourable Saintess, let me address your confusion.”

    At his words, my eyes focus on the last of them. The Drac’s King.

    His olivine locks wave slightly back and forth. Keeping his hands in his back, he holds my gaze with his celestine tinted eyes, half-closed.

“We have summoned you to our world so that you offer us your Stars Crosser’s blessing and ensure the continuous prosperity of our lands. You’re the one chosen by the spirits to grace us with your presence.”

“Uhh… I…” I mutter before getting lost in thoughts for a little while.

    Of all of the game’s characters, how did I end up being fleshed into the Saintess? Not only she’s a non-playable character but, more of that-

“You are quite pale, dear child.” The Beastmen’s ruler chimes in with a large, confident smile. “Why not come with me? You’ll be able to rest in my kingdom.”

“Let this poor girl, fox.” The dwarf intervenes. “There’s no rest where you’re around.”

“I’ll take this as a compliment.” She replies, her sleeve playfully placed before her mouth.

“Both of you, enough.” The rocky Druk’s voice growls. “We’ll follow the rules. The Saintess will visit each of our kingdoms before deciding in which one she’ll stay.” He pauses to glance at me. “Now, Saintess, choose. Where ‘ll you go first?”

    These words… These are exactly the ones he uses in the game when the rulers address their request to the Saintess.

    I take a few moments to think. Whatever my choice will be, this won’t affect the story. In the end, I’ll have to visit each of their kingdoms. Well, at least it would be intelligent to choose this one as the last since that’s where the Saintess meets her end. It would be, but…

    Extending my arm, I point a finger at the King who did not speak until now.

“Then, I’ll go to your kingdom first.”

    The Daoine Sidhe smirks discreetly.

“As you wish, Honourable Saintess.”

    Why should I try to desperately buy time, especially when my main interest lies over there?

***

At the edge of the woods, where a hilly landscape stretches as far as the eye can see,… numerous elven villages appear from afar, each built in a circle at the top of a mound. Peeking through the royal carriage’s window, I stare in awe at Tír-nan-cnocc kingdom.

    As we approach a village, the carriage’s pace slows down and crosses the circular walls made of stones, partly covered by creepers.

“Welcome to Rathard.” The King proudly said.

    His residence is built at the highest point of the village, a rampart of stones shaping it in a perfect circle. Not even once had I dared to think that I’d ever be able to set foot there.

    Our destination reached, the King leaves me to attend to his tasks as I am led to a room specially prepared for the Saintess.

“Gaahh!”

    Sighing as soon as I am alone, I disgracefully let myself fall against the mattress.

“Another world, huh…” I mutter, my cheek pressed against the soft sheets. Perfumed with… flower perhaps?

    The realism… If a part of doubt lingered deep inside me until now, letting me wonder if I’d end up awaking in a hospital bed after some sort of coma,… I don’t think my brain would put this much effort to humour me.

“Not like there’s much to miss from that world, anyway.”

    I had the bad habit of speaking alone since my previous life. That’s a side effect when you don’t have many social interactions, I guess.

    A part of me screams that I am making silly choices. Following Kingdoms of Sin’s scenario will lead me to an unfortunate death by the end of the “prologue”. But fighting it? The Saintess doesn’t meet the requirements to avoid her fate.

    Sitting up, I extend a hand in front of me and raise my voice.

“Status, open!”

    …

    Silence. A mere, simply embarrassing silence.

    See? I knew it. The Saintess isn’t a playable character. She wasn’t even granted a level in the game display. The others do at least have one. For instance, the rulers have a pretty honourable level.

    Of course, I still had the option to run away, to seek refuge in a remote village. But that wouldn’t make sense, that would ruin the scenario I wrote. The story has to unfold. Author’s pride.

    Thus, I should be particularly careful…

    My blue-green eyes drift to my satchel. A key chain is hooked to the side, a chibi version of a blue-haired maid hanging from it.

    How the hell did my bag get dragged with me?

    Grabbing it, I dig into its depths. As I itemise my sparse belongings, I find my tablet and phone’s screens broken. Aside from a few random things I put in there, there’s one concerning thing. The printed version of Kingdoms of Sin’ s scenario.

    What am I supposed to do with that?.. If someone finds it, this would be pretty problematic. Unless… I destroy it?

    My fingers clench against the paper.

“…”

    To get rid of the only remaining copy of my story…

    I shake my head to scatter these thoughts. Let’s just keep it well-hidden. The best place being… under the mattress, of course!! Nyehehe.

    Once the pages are stuck underneath, I rub my hands one against another with a proud look.

    That done, I glance at my bag once more. My eyes fixed on an inner pocket. Thoughtful, I finally reach my hand towards it…

    But barely do my fingers touch it that knocks against the door interrupt my gestures.

“Yes!” Standing up in the blink of an eye, I adjust my clothes.

    And wait.

    For nothing to happen.

“Uhh… You can enter?”

    The door finally opens and a frowning figure appears, standing on the threshold.

    A handsome figure if I may say, with elven distracting features.

    Thin and pointy ears. Long pastel green hair, apple-green eyes and, like most of Daoine Sidhe, freckles over his face. Freckles of a golden tint.

“Don’t you know how to open a door?” A grumpy voice retorts.

    Stunned, I hold the back of my hand against my lips.

    Oh my god…

“Mmm?” He tilts his head to the side.

    Wait, wait, wait. It’s truly him? Like… I knew he would spawn soon but… That’s something else to see him for real…

    Oblivious to my inner turmoil, he sighs, rubbing his hand at the back of his neck.

“My name is Tyffeon. King Erlkoenig has entrusted me with your safety for the duration of your stay here.”

    I smirk. Maybe too suddenly, maybe too awkwardly, because at the same moment Tyffeon takes on a puzzled expression.

“Tyffeon, hum?” I approach him until being close enough, placing then my hands on my hips. “Is a man afraid of stepping into a girl’s room truly able to protect me, though?”

“What.”

    My mischievous expression catches him off-guard and he looks at me wide-eyed.

“What happens? Are you already at a loss for words, hum? That was quick.”

    Frowning once more in a record time, Tyffeon grimaces.

“Your words are unworthy of a Saintess. Mind your behaviour…” He closes his eyes momentarily as if it helped him regain his weak composure. “Anyway, you just arrived in Rathard. Let me show you the village.”

“Ohh, how kind of you.” I extend my hand, patting the top of his head.“Please, please, show to the ignorant Saintess I am the splendour of your kingdom.”

“Stop that!” He protests, pushing my hand away from the back of his hand, before stepping back.

    As he turns his back to me, he walks away, his fists clenched. It is only meters away that he stops, making sure I follow him.

    Over my features, a fleeting, grim smile. As if mocking myself.

    A fool, that is what I am. Knowing the truth isn’t enough to help me from liking him.

    Even if Tyffeon is the one who will end up betraying the Saintess.