time after time -- a fantasy story



anyways, this is for my friend tsu, for being so awesome~ ;v;

yes it will be chaptered calm down

[spoilerprologue:1rlvmh37]❧ prologue

It was late at night when it happened.

The small town of Prendea was fast asleep by then, the moon shining brightly above. No clouds were there to cover up the heavenly being, or the other godlings staying fixated in the sky, acting as the moon’s servants. A few torches were still ablaze around the perimeter of Prendea, while guards stood next to them. You can’t be too safe, after all.

Only one house has its bright candles swaying in the room; the inn.

Now the inn was nought but a humble inn, serving people who ever stayed over in Prendea. Usually, over a day or two, they would leave—most likely to another town or city their adventurous hearts would lead them to. Some stayed to permanently live in Prendea, and those people were warmly welcomed by the original residents of the small town.

Silence hung over the moonlit town—no one made a sound except for the occasional talk of the guards. They were not loud enough to wake people up, but they still heard each other.

The sudden creak of a door opening alerted the guards. Some nearly raised up their swords, only to see the young man emerge from the doorway, quietly staring up at the moon. He wore a cloak, which hung from his shoulders all the way to the ground. His forest-green eyes slightly reflected the moonlight, and his blond hair swayed gently in the wind. He noticed the guards, giving them a slight smile. “Nice evening out, isn’t it?” he asked softly. The guards lowered their weapons, smiling as well and nodding in return. Then they returned to their task.

The man sighed and turned to look up at the moon. “It’s time…” he whispered to no one in particular. Pulling the hood of his cloak up so he could conceal his face, he quietly walked towards the guards, asking them permission to be let out into the forest to do something important. The guards looked at each other, a bit concerned, but let him through anyways.

The man thanked them and trod quietly into the woods. Once he reached the treeline, he could already hear the crickets still out and singing. A cluster of fireflies hovered around the treetops and above small ponds, while small, glowing flowers swayed back and forth, releasing a quiet melody. He never really knew what kind of magic hit these flowers, or why they were glowing and singing, or why they were eternally swaying even when there is no wind. But, still, he admit that they still looked pretty, and the fact that they light up the path along with the fireflies made him get to his destination quicker. He needed to get there fast.

Once his bare feet touched slightly soft ground, he knew where he was. Looking around the clearing, he saw a ring of the singing flowers around a small bud, letting a weak glow compared to the others. He raised his hand up, looking at the moon, then at the bud. Then he closed his eyes, whispering a sentence.

“Sol et Luna, donec manet in caelo et mundo, hoc utique florebit et ge—”

A loud thud was heard, and the man found himself on the ground, with a snarling wolf on top of him. He cursed. His hand started to glow, and, once the glow was bright enough, he cuffed the wolf over the ears. It was enough to send the wolf running back into the woods.

Then the man stood up, a look of worry washing over his eyes. He was supposed to do this correctly, without any distractions, but it seems fate had chosen something else.

He was safe, yes, but was the world as safe as he?


The city of Uzlalway was bustling with energy, for the land’s ruler was to come and stay in the grand mansion this very city was so proud of.

A girl, one of the many servants who were summoned to prepare the mansion, stood quietly in the hallways, making sure everything was as clean as a newly-made white cloth, ready for the king’s arrival. She and her friends worked hard indeed, for there was no speck of dust at all; not even a single dust bunny under the furniture. Everything was going as planned: they would clean the house while the citizens make the food for a festival. They would be finished with lots of time to spare at this rate.

The smell of food drifted to her nose, making her sigh contentedly. The king would be satisfied with what the citizens have made for him, she was sure. Fruits picked freshly by the best growers in the city, meat cooked by one of the finest chefs, and more assorted kinds of food anyone could find. They all smelled and looked delicious.

The girl smiled, excited for the king’s arrival. Even though she herself was just the head maid, she was proud of the city, wanting to see the king’s delighted face upon seeing what they have prepared for him.

Being born into Uzlalway, it was only natural for her to want to please someone, to make someone happy and welcome. It was one of the main customs of Uzlalian culture, after all.

Cheerfully, she thanked her fellow maids and servants for their hard work, and emerged from the mansion to watch everyone else prepare for the great arrival. Banners were set up here and there, the smell of delicious food permeated the air, and music was playing all around. Children laughed and played, though careful not to knock over the tables where the food lay. The city of Uzlalway was full of energy today, indeed.

Suddenly, the whole city went quiet. The girl was confused. What had happened? Why was it so quiet? Where was the king?

Looking up, she saw what all the other people were staring at—a rider, one that is most definitely not the king. He was carrying a scroll, most likely an announcement.

Clearing his throat, he unrolled the piece of paper, then read its contents aloud. “Citizens of Uzlalway,” he shouted, his voice ringing in the city. “Your Majesty, the king, is not arriving into this city at all. He was killed in battle, just a few hours ago.” People gasped, and whispers broke out in the crowd. Even the girl looked surprised, with a hint of fear. If the attackers killed him on his way to Uzlalway, they might be heading towards this very city, as well.

Her suspicions were confirmed when the man said, “These very… assassinators are on their way to this city right now. Hurry, run, before it is too la—!” He was cut short when an arrow pierced his back, the sharp tip emerging from his belly. He fell off his horse, dead.

People screamed, then began running in different directions; anywhere away from the city. The girl remained still, frozen in fear, until someone grabbed her wrist and dragged her away as more arrows rained down. She screamed, trying to let go.

“Don’t struggle too much, for the gods’ sakes!” the person hissed, leading her to a safe place. “Do you want us to get killed?!”

The girl stopped struggling, then looked at the person. He wore a cloak, and since he was not facing her, all she could see was the messy blond hair he had. “Who are you…?”

“None of your business. We need to get away, fast—we’re at war.”

“At war…? With who?!” she demanded, breaking free of his grip.

The young man sighed, turning to face her, his forest-green eyes looking at her intently. “Lady,” he said grimly, “we are at war with ourselves.”


That’s a great story you’ve written so far! I really like your sense of detail and the plot…