The Sixteenth Chapter | How We Got Here

The Sixteenth Chapter | How We Got Here

"Father? Are you in there?"

Averill knocked on the study door. She had been searching around their entire estate for her father. Even going so far as to ask all the manor staff she came across if they had seen him. However, nobody could give an actual answer. All the answers she did receive were either 'I'm don't know, Lady Averill', 'I haven't seen him today either' or something within that range.

She knocked on the door once more after not getting an answer. This time, she did actually get one... sort of. The sound of shoes on freshly polished wood filled the air, and immediately, Averill knew that someone was in the room.

She cautiously opened the door a crack and peeked in. She acknowledged how ridiculous it was trying to sneak around her own castle, but carried on anyway. Her eyes scanned the room and their attention was caught by a figure standing in the corner. He was facing one of the many bookshelves that adorned the room. The figure stood tall, dressed in fancy clothing and with graying hair. His fingers slowly brushing across the books in concentration, searching for something.

Despite not wanting to disturb his careful focus, Averill cleared her throat loudly, trying to alert him of her presence. His head shifted to her immediately as if he were a vigilant cat detecting any sudden sound. She scurried into the room and closed the door behind them, further encapsulating them in darkness. The only light source in the room was an in-built fireplace burning on the other side of the room. The study in their manor did have exceptional lighting, but the Duke fancied the more homey vibe of reading a book by the fireplace. It was a nice little experience that he deeply enjoyed. After all, he was never able to do it as a child. He was never really able to just be a kid.

Being the son of a duke and being told from birth that you would be ruling over a huge kingdom was not easy. None of the required training he started taking at age five years old was not easy either. Since his father died the second he turned sixteen, he was already being given the title of duke. Of course, he didn't actually rule, there were older, more experienced people to fill that role until he was twenty-one, but that didn't mean he didn't have to do anything. Being the duke of a large kingdom at sixteen was a hard job. His father hadn't made it any easier either. He left such large shoes to fill, both literally and figuratively.

It got even worse when he turned twenty-one and full power over the kingdom was relinquished to him. Suddenly, his workload had tripled and he was being made to maintain empire affairs he never even knew existed. It was slow at first, but eventually, he was able to keep up. As the Duke's only child, and daughter, Averill knew the same fate was waiting on her twenty-first birthday. It would be slightly harder for her, provided that she was a woman and was undoubtedly going to be taken as a joke, but she was determined to prove to them she was just as capable of ruling the kingdom as a duke.

"Hello, Avie. What are you doing here?"

His voice was as soft as ever and immediately put Averill at ease. He pulled a book from the shelf and walked over to one of the several plush chairs that surrounded the fireplace. He placed himself in the seat and gestured for Averill to join him in the seat opposite. Her boot heels shuffled against the wooden floor as she made her way over to the seat. She sat in it, the chair almost swallowing her whole. His brown eyes glistened from the light of the fire as he looked her over, waiting for her to answer his question.

"Um, well..."

Averill had no idea how to start a conversation, considering it was going to be about an entirely different world. Cedrick had somehow convinced her to talk to her father about the Realms. She still wasn't sure how, but she had agreed to do it. Besides, she also wanted answers as to why she was brought to Earth since the Elders could not give her a lot.

"Do you know anything about a place called Ravensfield?"

Averill was cautious when she asked. She had already developed a ludicrous story in case her father didn't know anything and he asked her what she was talking about. She didn't want him thinking she was crazy after all.

"Oh, so they've communicated with you already? Not too surprising."

"Wait, so you know about it?" She asked, more enthusiastically than she should have been. She all but leaped out of her seat in excitement before calming down enough to ask more questions.

"Of course I do. That's where I got you from, after all."

"Is there anything you can tell me about it? Right now, I'm working with a rather small set of information, so anything you can tell me about where I was born and how you got me would be very helpful."

"Well, if I remember correctly..."

25 Years Ago

"Wesley, where are you going?" his mother asked.

"Just out to the town for a bit. I want to go see the preparations being done for the festival."

"Again, I-? You know what? Just go ahead. I'm too busy to even worry about it. Just be back in-"

"-time for dinner. Yes, I know. Don't worry, I'll be back in time. I'm twenty. I can keep to a time schedule."

Every year, the people of Waylon, mostly the commoners, put on a massive summer festival to mark the beginning of the harvest season. Also, they believed it was a sign of good luck for the other half of the year. Nobles didn't usually attend, but anyone was welcome, which was why Wess made it a point to go every year.

It was being set up the way it always was. The street lamps were covered in lanterns painted with his family crest and pennant strings connected the tops of houses. Stalls serving all sorts of functions were being set up everywhere and banners were being hung. People were bustling around, trying to complete a wide variety of tasks, all in an effort to prepare for the Mid-year Summer Fest. Nobody really knew when exactly preparations started, they just sort of... did. It wasn't premeditated, everybody just knew that it was that time of the year. The only thing that was scheduled was the day the festival actually happened. It was always on the last day of June.

The ambiance was calm that day, but it basically exploded on the night of the festival. From a quick glance, anyone with two brain cells could tell that the entire city was in high spirits. One of the last things that happened during the festival was the fireworks. They were always bright and colorful, but because of the massive crowds, and Wess' crippling claustrophobia, it was hard for him to enjoy it. That was why he had a safe spot where he would watch them.

That, in fact, was where he was going when he was promptly grabbed and pulled into a bush. His eyes widened in fear and on reflex, he attempted to yell for attention. Alas, that plan was foiled when whoever grabbed him also covered his mouth with their hand. Before he knew what was happening, they had gagged him and tied his hands behind his back.

Wess' mind was running at a mile a minute and he was absolutely terrified. What the hell did these people want from him? What had he done? Wait. Were they robbers? Or worse, murderers? All sorts of nasty thoughts began flowing through his head as he pondered his choices in the situation. His breathing became heavy.

"What did you hear?" Someone asked frantically.

What? He hadn't heard anything. What were they even talking about?

For the first time since he had been pulled into the bush, he looked up at his kidnappers. However, because it was almost midnight there was no light that Wess could use to identify the people before him. Regardless, he was able to make out the silhouette of exactly three people. As they towered over him, he could do nothing but wait for them to make their next move. To his surprise, instead of them doing something like threatening him for money, they just started arguing between themselves.

"What did you do?" A high-pitched female voice asked frantically.

"What do you mean 'What did I do'? What was I supposed to do? Let him just waltz past?" Sarcasm dripped from the voice of the male.

"Alright. So instead, you decided the best thing to do was basically kidnap him?" Another female asked.

"Yeah, well. We didn't really have another option, and I didn't see you coming up with any ideas."

"We? No way, this is all on you, Iven. You kidnapped him. Not me."

"Riko! Don't say my name."

"Well, you just said her name, Idiot."

"Exactly, Alita gets it."

"Okay, Riko, please be quiet."

What was even occurring? Wess tried to speak before he immediately remembered that he was gagged. He did, however, make noise to try and catch their attention, and he could see the silhouettes of the figures turn their attention from each other to him. One of them stepped closer and shined a flashlight in his face. He squinted from the sudden burst of light that met his eyes. The person sighed and turned off the torch.

"What are we going to do?"

"We don't really have a choice. We have to get rid of him." Iven said.

"What! Absolutely not. Don't forget that I'm in charge of this expedition-"

"Unfortunately," Alita sneered.

"Shush. You guys have to do what I say. And I say, we're not killing him. He's too pretty to kill."

What?

"Riko, no," Alita scolded, "I don't agree with her reasoning, but she's right. We can't kill him. Don't you know who he is? If we kill him, the entire kingdom is going to know."

Iven sighed reluctantly, "Fine. Whatever. We can't kill him, so what do we do?"

"We take him back with us, duh." It slipped off Riko's tongue as if it was the most obvious decision.

Where were they planning on taking him? Were they actually going to kidnap him? Was there even anything he could do? Probably not.

"Are you insane? We can't take him with us! Do you know how much trouble we'll be in?"

"Yeah, well, it's better we take him with us than just let him go. Maybe if he knows why we're here, he won't go squealing to someone about that he heard."

"Alita, you can't actually agree with this. Even if he tells anyone, who's going to believe him? What's he going to say? 'I heard a group of people behind a bush arguing about how they're going to be able to blend into a group of humans without being caught shifting'?"

Huh? Wess didn't even hear anything like that! He had no idea what they were even arguing about. Besides, what kind of story was that?

"Iven isn't wrong, Riko."

"Still. I'm the one in charge. We're taking him back with us. Now, let's go."

Neither Iven nor Alita really had a choice. Somehow, Riko was leading the expedition, and as such, she had the final say. While Wess sat there, tied, gagged, and painfully confused, Iven deemed it essential to brush Wess' fluffy coffee-colored hair out of the way so he could shut down another one of his senses by tying a piece of cloth over his eyes. Riko didn't think it was important since it was pitch dark where they were anyway, but she did nothing to stop him.

He was hoisted onto his feet by Iven and was hastily hauled away.

"Jeez Iven, don't be so rough with him. If we're going to return him, he can't be injured or people will get skeptical."

I'm sorry, 'if'?

With no options left, Wess somewhat obediently followed along as the sound of fireworks firing into the sky and promptly exploding was heard behind him. All he could do was have faith in the fact that someone would realize that he was missing and that he wouldn't be dead by the time they did.

~ • ~

"Hello? Hellooo! Do you think he's dead?" A voice asked.

"Nope, he still has a pulse."

"Is it bad that I was kind of hoping the cross would kill him?"

"Yes, Alita. Yes, it is."

Wess' head was spinning, and if he wasn't blindfolded, his vision probably would have been too. He knew he was lying down. Identifying what it was, was where the problem lay. The wind was harsh, and with two of his senses being cut off, his hearing was somewhat heightened. This is why it was so easy for him to hear the subtle swaying of the leaves on the trees above him.

Where was he? Had he passed out from fear or something? Had one of his kidnappers knocked him unconscious?

Once his head stopped spinning and he was somewhat composed, he shot up frantically and tried to wriggle out of his bindings which certainly did not work. However, he felt like there was nothing else he could do.

"Oh good! He's awake now." Riko sounded genuinely excited, which Wess thought was very strange. "Are you okay?"

How on Earth did she expect him to answer when he was both gagged and blindfolded?

"Riko, how the hell is he meant to answer. Anyway, whether he's okay or not doesn't matter to us, we just need to get him to Graham, and he'll decide what to do with him."

"So, what transpired after?" Averill asked.

She had been sitting in her fathers' study for the past half hour listening to him eagerly as he recounted how he came to know the Realms. The book that the Duke had drawn from the shelf was long forgotten. It had been half-heartedly abandoned on the coffee table that was positioned between the plush chairs that the royals sat on.

"Well, they took me to Graham, and despite the death sentence I thought I was going to receive, Graham made me a different offer. In return for not killing me, I was required to swear a sort of allegiance to the Realms."

Averill found this weird. Why would Graham want her father to swear allegiance to the Realms? What benefit would it be to them? Did they just not want to kill him because of suspicion? Even if that was the case, there was no way that anyone would be able to trace it back to them. They didn't even live in Waylon. If they had just stayed away from Earth for a while they would have never even gotten caught. Maybe they just wanted someone on the inside? If that was the case, the best candidate would probably be a twenty-year-old who would be easy to manipulate and was also about to become a duke.

"I ended up spending a lot of time there and somehow became friends with Graham. That's why..."

18 Years Ago

"Wesley, I need to ask a favor of you. I need you to take her back to Earth with you."

"Who? Wait, What? Why can't she stay here?"

"It's not safe. There can't be more than one heir at a time. It's too dangerous. Now, take her."

He frantically pushed a swaddled baby girl into Wess' arms as he exited the room. What the actual hell? Graham had just put him under the legal responsibility of an infant. After a moment of shock, he chased after him. However, once he stepped out of the room, he saw absolutely nobody. He roamed the halls of the chambers, searching for someone, anyone.

Eventually, he yielded and returned to Waylon. Despite how adorable the little girl was, doubt lingered in the back of his mind, trying to coax him into believing that he wouldn't be capable of taking care of the small angel. After pacing the room for a while, he decided that he needed to tell his wife. If anyone had to know first, it would be her.

To his utter astonishment and great relief, his wife was absolutely entranced by the baby. She immediately took a liking to her, enthusiastically begging Wess if they could keep her. He hastily explained to her the situation, and without even needing to convince her, Marigold agreed. They created a plan in which Marigold would pretend to be pregnant for nine months so as to not draw suspicion.

Thankfully, when they declared the birth of their first royal child nobody doubted them, not even their own parents. However, that did mean that Marigold could rarely leave her room, let alone the castle, just so that nobody would see her and realize that she wasn't actually pregnant. If she did have to leave, she would usually just stuff her dress so that it resembled the stomach of a pregnant woman. It took quite a bit of sneaking around and meticulous planning, but regardless, they were able to pull it off.

Present Day

"Fascinating."

"Indeed."

The duke picked up the book that he had discarded earlier and flipped to the first page.

"Anything else you want to inquire about?"

"Well-"

A frantic knock on the door suspended their lengthy conversation. The duke granted the person access and Averill's stepmother hastily appeared from the other side of the door.

"Averill, can I speak to you, in private?"

Averill was wary but didn't show any resistance. She respectfully excused herself from the conversation and followed her stepmother into the hall.

"Yes?"

"Averill," her stepmother dragged out her name as if nervous to tell her the news. "Remember how the whole point of the debutante ball was for you to be presented to the other kingdoms?"

"Yes..." Alvera did not like where the discussion was going. Whenever her mother mentioned the debutante ball, it was never a good thing.

"Well, I found a suitor for you to get familiarized with."

What?

"I'm sorry. What? You want to set up an arranged marriage for me?"

"Don't think of it as an arranged marriage. It isn't. Think of it as... an intervention! Even with the debutante ball you don't have any prospects that you like. I'm just offering some assistance."

God, why did she want her to get married so bad?

Alvera didn't even bother answering. Instead, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before giving her stepmother a reluctant nod.