Chapter 101: The List (21)
Vivien’s gaze lingered on Lucien’s cards, her mind spiraling ever deeper into paranoid tangents.
And then, something inside her snapped.
Her vision blurred, the infirmary walls melting away like candle wax left too close to flame.
The whitewashed ceilings peeled back and gave way to storm clouds boiling across a crimson sky, heavy with thunder and threat.
Beds and curtains dissolved into shattered stone pillars, broken and blackened.
And before her, the quiet card game twisted and reshaped itself, transforming into a battlefield choked with smoke, echoes of steel, and the promise of violence yet to come.
Thunder boomed.
Fire licked the edges of her imagination.
Across the ruined expanse stood Lucien, not slouched against his pillows, but tall, looming, cloaked in shadows that billowed like smoke.
His eyes gleamed crimson, and a sharp, wicked grin carved across his face.
Behind him, three titanic dragons coiled and snarled:
-A Red Dragon, scales burning like molten iron, flames dripping from its maw.
-A Blue Dragon, wings spread wide, arcs of lightning crackling over its body.
-A Green Dragon, its emerald hide bristling with thorns, poison dripping from its fangs.
All three hissed in unison, their massive eyes locking on Vivien as though she were already prey.
“Pathetic little girl,” Lucien’s voice boomed, amplified, distorted, dripping with theatrical malice.
He raised a hand, his grin widening into something cartoonishly evil.
“Did you truly believe your feeble spirit could withstand my Chromatic Beasts? Kneel before me! For I, Lucien the Malevolent, shall crush you beneath the weight of-”
He paused for dramatic effect, his cloak fluttering unnaturally in the wind.
“-ultimate despair!”
Vivien’s hands clenched into fists at her sides.
She could feel her own hair whipping around her face in the storm winds of her hallucination.
She stood firm, defiant, chin lifted.
“I am not afraid of your devilish beasts!” she declared, her voice echoing like a heroine standing on the brink of destiny.
“For I, Vivien Astor, fight not for myself, but for love!”
In her vision, Phillip appeared to the side of the battlefield.
He sat slouched in a wheelchair, his entire body wrapped in plaster like a tragic, broken doll.
One of his legs was in traction, both arms bandaged to the elbows, even his head wrapped so tightly only one eye peeked through.
Yet his voice carried bravely through the storm.
“You can do it, Vivien!”
He cried, his words muffled as though his jaw was wired shut.
“Fight for meee!”
Vivien’s heart blazed with determination.
“Fear not, Phillip, my beloved! For with the power of our love, I shall triumph against even the vilest of evildoers!”
She snapped her hand out, summoning a flash of light from the heavens.
Three colossal forms burst forth at her command:
-A Wild Boar, tusks gleaming, pawing at the scorched ground with fury.
-A Walking Tree, branches stretching high, its roots splitting the stone beneath its weight.
-A Cuboidal Slime, wobbling with an odd sense of dignity, its gelatinous body shimmering with rainbow hues.
“Behold!”
Vivien shouted, her eyes blazing.
“My noble companions! Born of courage, faith, and the unyielding power of devotion!”
Lucien threw his head back, unleashing a maniacal laugh that shook the battlefield.
“Your pitiful menagerie cannot hope to stand against my dragons! Burn her to cinders, my Chromatic Beasts!”
The three dragons roared in unison, their combined elemental fury swirling into a storm of fire, lightning, and venom that surged across the battlefield toward Vivien.
Vivien narrowed her eyes, thrusting a finger forward with the resolve of a saint.
“I will not yield! With the spirit of love, with the hope of victory, and with the dignity of Phillip Astor watching over me- I challenge your darkness! Boar, Tree, Slime- attack!”
The battlefield erupted into chaos: fire clashing with tusks, roots tangling against wings, the slime wobbling bravely into the storm of poison and lightning with an almost suicidal devotion.
Explosions shook the ruined pillars.
Chunks of stone flew through the air.
The Wild Boar rammed its tusks into the Red Dragon’s blazing chest, sparks flying in a spray of molten iron.
The Walking Tree’s branches whipped out like spears, binding the Blue Dragon’s wings as arcs of electricity surged through its bark.
And the Slime, oh, the Cuboidal Slime launched itself into the Green Dragon’s fanged maw, bouncing with an audible splorch, glowing faintly as if fueled by Vivien’s love itself.
Vivien stood tall at the heart of the battlefield, cape (she definitely had one in this vision) fluttering majestically.
The storm howled around her, lightning illuminating her determined face as she shouted above the carnage:
“Your tyranny ends here, Lucien! Love is a power you cannot comprehend!”
Lucien’s grin only widened, devilishly sharp, his eyes flashing crimson as he spread his arms wide.
“Love? Love?! Pathetic! Love cannot burn! Love cannot freeze! Love cannot poison!”
He pointed toward her, cloak snapping like a banner of darkness.
“Love is weakness- and weakness shall be annihilated!”
He thrust his hand down, commanding his beasts with cartoonish ferocity.
“CHROMATIC ONSLAUGHT- FINAL STORM!”
The dragons roared in unison, channeling their combined fury into a massive surge of flame, lightning, and venom.
The three forces intertwined into a whirling vortex of catastrophic destruction, barreling toward Vivien and her champions.
Vivien didn’t flinch.
She raised her hand dramatically, eyes blazing with holy conviction.
“My love shall shield me! Phillip, lend me your strength!”
On the sidelines, Phillip, still mummified in bandages, still confined to his wheelchair, shook his tiny pom-poms with heroic vigor.
“You’ve got this, Vivieeennn!”
His voice cracked, muffled through plaster.
“Do it for our loooove!”
Vivien’s heart thundered.
Tears of righteous determination pricked her eyes.
“This is for you, Phillip!”
She pointed forward, her voice cutting through the maelstrom.
“Boar, Tree, Slime- UNITE! Show him the true power of devotion!”
The Wild Boar bellowed, tusks glowing white with holy radiance.
The Walking Tree’s roots blazed with runes, pulsing with sacred energy.
The Cuboidal Slime… sparkled inexplicably, rainbow light glimmering from within its gelatinous form.
Together, they surged into the oncoming storm, moving as one into chaos and fury, their forces colliding in a kaleidoscope of color and motion that tore across the sky.
Energy clashed against scales, magic against will, each impact sending ripples through the air.
The battlefield drowned in blinding light, explosions rattling reality itself, shaking the very heavens as if the world were straining to contain the violence unleashed-
***
Back in the real world.
Vivien sat, eyes closed, a smug little smile tugging at her lips.
Her fingers twitched as though commanding invisible troops, and she gave a soft, self-satisfied chuckle.
Lucien, Vaelira, and Balt all stared at her in silence.
Balt scratched his head, whispering, “Uh… is she okay?”
Lucien slowly turned to Vaelira.
“…Question. Are concussions contagious?”
Vaelira’s refined mask almost slipped as her lips twitched.
She looked between Lucien, Vivien, and then poor unconscious Phillip lying nearby, his real body nowhere near as plastered as Vivien’s hallucination imagined, and gave a very slow, very deliberate shake of her head.
The three exchanged glances, one baffled, one exasperated, one suppressing laughter, while Vivien chuckled softly to herself, lost in a battlefield only she could see.
***
While Vivien was busy waging her invisible war against Lucien and his 'dragons,' Corin had wisely extricated himself from the nonsense.
He stood at the back of the infirmary, hunched over the nurse’s desk as she slid a thick parchment form across to him.
“Now, Mr. Corin,” the head nurse said, tapping the page with her quill, “your application for a translator bracelet has been approved. However…”
She adjusted her glasses and gave him a look both stern and apologetic.
“We cannot afford to issue a permanent model. What you’ll receive is a rental unit. Ten charges per day.”
Corin nodded once.
“Ten. Acceptable.”
The nurse dipped her quill and continued scribbling.
“You’ll need to pay a base rental fee each month. If you exceed ten charges in a day, there will be an additional per-word cost.”
Corin blinked, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“…Per word.”
“Yes.”
She pushed up her spectacles again, matter-of-fact.
“Furthermore, the bracelet must be recharged daily here in the infirmary. You will need to report each morning to collect it fresh. If you forget, no translations for that day.”
Corin stared at the paper.
Then at the nurse.
Then at the neat stack of contracts beside her desk, each thicker than a novella.
He let out a long, almost inaudible sigh.
In his native demonic tongue, he muttered under his breath:
“ᚹᛖᚱᚱᛋᚴ ᚲᚩᚾᚾᛏᚱᚩᛚᛋ…ᛏᚺᛁᛋ ᛒᚱᚪᚲᛖᛚᛖᛏ ᛁᛋ ᛗᚩᚱᛖ ᛏᚱᚩᚢᛒᛚᛖ ᛏᚺᚪᚾ ᛁᛏ’ᛋ ᚹᚩᚱᚦ.”
[Translation: Cursed contracts… this bracelet is more trouble than it’s worth.]
The nurse didn’t even blink.
“What was that, dear?”
Corin straightened, face expressionless, and signed the form with a swift, jagged scrawl.
“…Nothing… Ma’am”
She smiled, slid the bracelet across the desk to him.
Corin stared down at the thin silver band with the faintly glowing runes etched into it, his expression flat as stone.
