As Mist watched, Jacob walked into the hall as the light shot all its great, golden arrows through the castle windows and Jacob swiftly sat down and had a piece of toast...Unlike Lanee, this did not result in it being burned. Nor did he die from liver disease. More's the pity. After failing in his impossible quest to slay the Swamp Beast, Jacob had been oddly silent. He wasn't terribly unappealing in appearance, at least not for a human, but his bland, blue eyes didn't even have a flicker of grand violet in them. Or so Mist thought, scathingly.
Shiver too entered the room, in her silver slippers and floaty, fair ballgown, and glanced knowingly over at Mist.
"Your Majesty, we need to tell Jacob that in order to preserve our precious anonymity he needs to utterly forget all he has learned about us. The things that we showed him for a laugh. He must go back to simply seeing us as the virtual King and Queen of this soft and sweetly-lighted Land."
"You see, via the great, mind-hacking capabilities of the AI, We can erase memories Jacob; send them back to the snows of the aether. Which reminds me, the realism is great and all but Felton, dear, why is it is bloody freezing?"
Jacob prayed this was yet another witchy little trick.
"The thing is Jacob," MIst informed the boy gleefully, "The AI erasure of your memories can often go smoothly but it could also leave you missing a few other precious memories or if you are one of the most unfortunate, you could end your days a blank, drooling vegetable. Before Jacob had a moment to think, he heard the creeping voice of Monovalent and when he next awoke it was in his palace bed.
Jacob stared around the grand room, the black nightstand with silver etchings seemed familiar as did the portrait of the King and Queen he met last night after rescuing the wide-eared, little fox cat. They were leering at him with darkly beautiful faces and wearing royal finery. Jacob had a very mild headache but considering all the stresses of yesterday this seemed to be about as good as he could have expected to feel. He out of his large, snowy bed climbed and undid a tangle in his hair.
For a moment he felt a sudden disorientation and a misty, little sense of deja vu but it vanished quite quickly. He regained his footing and wondered what he should do now. He still had no idea why he was here. Surely the effects of any drugs in his system should have worn off by this point in time. He did feel he at least had gotten a decent sleep. His head grazing all those soft pillows had been surprisingly comforting and the fluffy, white bedding was prettily cloudy but entirely too feminine for his tastes.
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A great knock came at the door. Queen Ember, wearing the rather exquisite little smile she had graced him with soon after they met, entered his room. She was carrying the delicate, fox-cat thing, with its beautiful fur so fiercely glittering it was almost like hellfire, and with a sweet sadness to its large, languorous eyes, coloured like half-dead flowers. Brown and wilting.
"Jacob, I will be giving birth in three days' time. She announced this with the same cadence as if she were asking him for his dinner requirements. There was a slight merriment about her as she gazed into his face, almost kindly.
"What, you aren't even..."
"Yes, I am. My luxurious gown just hides it most well, that is all. She touched her belly slightly grotesquely, almost performatively, though he still saw only a light slenderness to her small frame. Absent any sign of being "with child." As she so absurdly claimed.
"After I give birth, King Felton and I will ascend to the Heavens in three days and further light its path of golden glass and green. You will be tasked with caring for dear, little Adora. I certainly hope you are up to the task; don't be lazy and do not neglect your sacred duty as her guardian. For you must assuredly protect her from those who would harm her for the widespread claim that she is the wicked child of prophecy. Which is bull by the way. She is but a sweet, innocent child."
Jacob was unsure, for he didn't trust her somehow, but nevertheless, he asked, "How do you know the prophecy isn't..."
"Because The god of hell, Euradities, concocted it as a joke. It got utterly out of hand but he is quite the trickster and won't recant it. Until I ascend to marry him that is. The ceremony will take approximately twelve days. Then the Gilded Decree of Innocence shall be uttered forth."
Jacob was horrified. Dwelling upon what she first said. He couldn't care for an infant, what nonsense was this? Yet the idea of leaving even a virtual child to suffer didn't sound pleasant. Maybe he wouldn't have to care for it like a real child. Just check in on her every now and then. Like you might do in a game.
"Jacob," she said seriously. "Pitchforked armies of people will come to the castle to snatch little Adora away. Dressed in her lovely, white dress and boots. That you will dress her in for me. Some great dragons and demons and shadow beings may show and even a demi-god or two, but do not waive or falter. Even when gazing into the abyss of their lightless eyes and worrying your blood will be the next to drip like a crimson dew from their fangs as they gnash their way out of hell. You are her only chance. Be her knight, Jacob."
Before he could more than begin to mount a protest and as he attempted to move that distracting, soft brown tress of hair that had drifted irritatingly across his startled face into his eye, she was gone. Gone with the wind and the aether. As with an almost nightly shiver, all the haunting music of this land played.
