six illusions / hnkm

The main ballroom was full of people, citizen of Vesuvia and visitors from abroad alike, all silent before the sight.

On the top of the stairs, in all his glory, Count Lucio stood. Arms wide open, smirk in place. The only thing that testified his illness was the vibrant red in his scleras. A color that made Badr shudder a little, especially since the memories came back.

Her brows furrowed evidently, irises darting to the still smirking face of the Devil.

“What? Your beloved are all fine and healthy. I have done no harm to them, nor you.”

The magician didn’t grace him with an answer, moving her gaze to the Count. Her eyes caught the astonished expressions of the guests, some horrified or terrified, others enthusiastic or curious. 

She spotted the familiar mask and outfit of Nadia, the closest to the man. Then Portia, who - forever faithful - was offering all her support to the Countess.

Julian, he was nowhere she could see, but if she extended her senses enough she could feel the faintest pulse of his magic. 

And, finally, Asra. His presence alone served to soothe her nerves and calm her racing mind a bit.

She had no time to spare getting nervous and panicky. She had to go back, to get her body back.

Easier said than done.

And yet…

A spark ignited an idea in her mind, eyes growing wide as it took control of her whole self. Badr knew it was something akin of a desperate attempt to hold on to the material world, but still - if that worked, it would be totally worth it.

Determined, she dashed off to the closest exit under the curious scrutiny of the major arcana.

*

After the initial shock of the unexpected appearance of Lucio, the mood managed to shift back to a more party-like atmosphere. There were still glances thrown at the supposed dead man, but more than that everyone learned fast to mind their own business. It was easier to keep their sanity that way.

Speaking of which, Nadia felt like she was losing both that and her patience.

She felt one of her headaches come back full-force, stronger and stronger, the more her ex-husband talked. Lucio was definitely more obnoxious that she remembered him and even sprouted more nonsense that he did before. For sure, he was convinced everything was fine and dandy and that everyone was more than happy for his return.

Oh, how wrong could he’ve been! He and his pompous plan - whatever that might be, beside coming back - was something they definitely had to stop before it was completed. Still, without Badr things could go downhill faster than anyone could’ve anticipated, or so her instinct told her.

They needed everyone to succeed, for sure.

She had excused herself to take a fresh breath of hair on the balcony, Portia offering her a quick moment of solace with a glass of white wine, but the blonde man was surely known for his stubbornness in keeping the attention to himself. It wouldn’t be long before he’d be back looking for “Noddy” - how she hated that damned nickname!

The umpteenth snort left her lips, and she was about to just go and ask her beloved husband to please shut the heck up, when a soft tap on her back caught her attention. 

Turning around, her eyes met a finely carved mask of a wolf. Or a dog, maybe.

The figure, clad in a beautiful white-and-silver outfit, extended their hand to her with a respectful bow and a familiar playful smirk barely hidden by the disguise.

“Forgive my impudence, Your Grace. But may I dare to ask you for a dance? It may be the only occasion to do this.”

The voice, too, was familiar. A tone or two deeper than she remembered, but still familiar. She smiled, a blessed wave of relief hitting her. “My, I couldn’t deny such a chivalrous request.”

When the new song started, the Countess found herself in the middle of the dance floor not long after leaving her glass on a table on the way inside. The two danced on, as close to each other as socially acceptable by her standing - not that she would have minded, if her “knight” felt it appropriate to bring her closer to them.

At some point after a swift turn, Nadia found herself giggling. Her partner locked eyes onto her.

“I knew you could dance well, but I didn’t expect you to ask so boldly.”

Badr smirked, a roguish expression the Countess found rather appropriate. Nadia’s mind faintly registered the fact that, finally, Lucio feel silent from where he was standing. The sight alone made her smile a tad wider.

“The Masquerade allows some boundaries to be crossed, a really unique event. And…”

The dark haired magician pressed herself a little closer, almost flushing against the ruler as they turned again. Wasn’t it for the mask, Badr’s lips would have been an hair’s breadth from Nadia’s ear. The Prakran woman felt a little frisson on her back when the whispered words came to her.

“You should spite your ex-husband some more. His expression right now is reeeally the best.”

She couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as she actually saw him: if there was something Lucio despised, other than not being at the centre of attention, it was someone stealing that from him directly. 

And of course, with the fact that someone was dancing with the Countess herself and did a damn good job at stealing everyone’s stares away, he couldn’t help but boil in silent frustration.

When the song ended,Nadia found herself pulled back from her dancing partner by a very annoyed and pouting Count. His eyes were locked on Badr, an angry and jealous glint in them.

“Well well well, you seem to be having fun. Shouldn’t you invite your Lord, too?”

Typical of him, he wasn’t bothered by the fact that a stranger was dancing closely with his wife. He simply didn’t want to be left out - he had been for too long, three and more years, after all.

So, if attention is what he wanted, attention would he get.

“How unfair of me, focusing on Lady Nadia and not you.” Badr began, voice so exceedingly sweet that even he was thrown off a bit. “Please, let me show you my deepest appreciation for you.”

Lucio didn’t have the time to respond as a gloved fist met his face, pain erupting from its center and irradiating like the Plague in his head. He fell backwards, landing on his backside, grunting in pain as a collective gasp filled the air.

He looked up, surprised gray irises meeting fiery green ones. The mask had fell off. He recognized the face staring down at him.

“You—!”

“Yes, me.” The magician growled, bending at the waist before him. A hand closed on the front of his cape, pulling him towards their face, barely a breath away. “Don’t get too cozy in that body, Dearest Lord. I will take it back, bite after bite should I have to.”

A low, cracking sound followed the seething declaration. 

Only then, both Lucio and Nadia noticed the pieces of dark soil falling on the floor, from the arm that Badr used to hit the Count with. A few seconds and the white clad figure of the magician turned completely into soil and crumpled, dirtying the pristine clothes of the ruler.

Astonished silence followed for a moment before he stood back up, barking at the spectators and stomping off to clean himself off. All the while the Countess tried not to smile too much at the sight: even if banished from the living realm, Badr could have such a strong fighting spirit - one that even Lucio, nor the Devil himself, could control.

A storm in human flesh, able to erase the obstacles in her way.

Unpredictable, or an “accident” on Lucio’s account.

It happened  a late afternoon.

Asra had spent a good deal of time speaking with Nadia, about both the investigation itself and to grant his fellow magician a deserved break. He had nothing against the Countess, but he knew she could be rather… demanding, sometimes, when she assigned a job. Badr didn’t fail to mention the “damned test” Nadia put her through, using one of their Arcana to see if she could follow magic traces with moving targets.

Still, Nadia was a nice host, really. Once she warmed up to a person, she wouldn’t hold back with gifts or shows of appreciation. An aspect that finally brought to the magician’s current predicament.

Taking a stroll around the castle with the ruler, talking about lighter topics. More or less.

“Asra, I must ask a… delicate question.” the Countess began at a point, an unexpected sigh leaving her lips. “Do you think Badr is bothered by my actions? It’s true that we didn’t exactly started with the right foot, but… I suppose I still haven’t redeemed myself?”

The magician looked at her curiously, a little taken aback from the confession. Then, he smiled amiably. “It’s not like that, Nadi. Badr is just horrible at expressing feelings.” he admitted, fondness as well as bluntness in his voice.

“You say that, but I fear I have… ah, offended her, with my last gift.”

The dress. 

Badr showed him the garment the evening before. It was a beautiful piece made with a soft, almost feather-like fabric that Badr herself defined “like a cloud”. Nadia had given it to her some days prior, if he recalled correctly, while Badr was just having a “bad” moment.

Shaking his head, he placed a hand on the Countess shoulder. Her gaze fixed in his almost immediately and he smiled once again, a honest and reassuring smile. “I know where the problem lies, Nadi, and believe me if I say it’s not as you think. She’s not always comfortable in dresses and, as you may guess, prefers slacks over skirts in general.”

As he finished his explanation, the pair passed by one of the large windows that granted them a clear image of the garden. Before he could continue, however, his eyes caught glimpse of something—or rather, someone.

“I’m well aware of her preferences, but her figure is—Asra?”

Nadia stopped herself mid-sentence, as the magician brought his right index to his lips, a secretive smile telling her to keep quiet. She followed him when he gestured her to, getting silently on the balcony that oversaw the garden.

There, oblivious of the audience she got, Badr was crouching on the ground, bare-foot, fixing her handmade anklets before standing up. She was wearing the dress Nadia gave her, much to the Countess’ surprise.

Before the two could say or do anything, the dark haired magician started to move, her eyes closed as she danced on inaudible notes. The dress’ ends fluttered around, each step and movement was executed fluidly, with an elegance so unexpected that Nadia could only observe the show with delight.

She knew there was more than the usual frown and sharp words, but now Badr’s reminded her of the willow tree in the maze, flexible and gracious, swaying at the wind.

“See? I think she likes it. She just wasn’t ready to wear it.” Asra’s voice was only a murmur and got a simple nod as answer.

*

Each step she took felt like growing closer and closer with the elements themselves. Even if the contact lasted only a few moments, she could feel grass and soil under her feet, a spark of life reverberating around her.

Earth was her mother and her home, her first prayer in the morning and last at night. If she focused enough, she could feel the light thrumming coming from the ground - life at its most natural, purest form - and that alone had always the power to make her relax, even after a stressing day in the city.

As much as Asra tried to teach her his element, water couldn’t just become as important to her as earth was since her birth.

It didn’t take long for her to notice the lingering stares from the balcony - her magic sensed the familiar presence of her mentor, together with one which she still wasn’t totally accustomed to. Her friendship with Nadia was still something she could work on, but nonetheless the endless kindness of the noble host was something Badr wanted to treasure. Not because of the gifts she received, but simply because she felt the woman’s honest and good intentions. 

People like her were hard to come by, in all times. Badr wanted to treasure their relationship.

Gulping down the embarrassment of being stared at in such a moment, she held out her hands to the two of them, an open invite to join her, much to Asra’s surprise. 

The three of them danced and danced and danced, with no real music guiding them other than the pace set from one and each of them. 

Badr couldn’t recall how much time had passed since they started, but soon enough Nadia excused herself to go back to her duties. Her mentor, Asra, followed like a few more minutes, after telling her to try and not exhaust herself too much--which was funny: after all that moving, Badr just felt even more energized than before.

Still barefoot, the Apprentice walked around and in the little maze surrounding the familiar fountain she used some time before to get in touch with Asra. She didn’t feel like going back inside ye. The energy she felt from the dance before, the vivid aura she could feel around her even in that moment, made leaving very difficult, after all. It still wasn’t like taking a walk in the woods outside Vesuvia where her dearest familiar lived, but it was something.

Luckily, even the obnoxious selfishness and the poor style the later Count had couldn’t completely erase the nature from the castle. That, or it was all Nadia’s merit. Unsurprisingly, Badr tended to the latter.

A chuckle left her lips - she felt no guilt in talking, or thinking, bad of Lucio. 

From what she heard and saw, he was not a nice person, nor one she could get along with. She’d rather punch him in the face probably, but that would have to wait anyways. 

For the moment, the Apprentice was rather satisfied with simply resting in her favorite element.

*

A few hours later, Asra went back to find her before it became too dark outside, only to find her leaning back on the willow tree near the fountain. Her aura, as he could see, still was saturated with natural energy: it thrummed pleasingly around her in such a way that he could see the surroundings echoing with it, albeit more silently.

He sometimes wondered if  Badr knew how strong her magic could become if she kept linking herself to the elements like she did that day. That is, if she knew what she was doing. It wouldn’t be the first time she pulled something like that, following the way her instinct and magic itself laid out for her, so it was a fair doubt he had.

Honestly, his dearest was either incredibly intuitive or unbelievably lucky sometimes.

Thanks to all the information gathered up until now, Badr knew what was happening. 

She had gotten sick. She had contracted the deadly illness that she, alongside many others, desperately tried to fight and cure once and for all.

The Plague.

There was little she knew she could do at this point. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, judging from the obvious signs in her eyes, it wouldn’t be long before life abandoned her.

“They’re already turning red…” she murmured, slender fingers tracing the underside of her eyes. The sclera, once a healthy white, had began to become a pale shade of pinkish-red.

Luckily enough, it wasn’t at a stage that was impossible to hide... not yet.

Her doctor mask could help a little longer. 

And when her time finally came, she knew she had someone she could turn to, to make herself useful even after her departure - someone who, somehow thankfully, regarded everyone with the same, scientific attention that they held for research.

Not that she particularly enjoyed the company of the Quaestor, but... 

It wouldn’t be that bad, right?

Not that she’d be conscious to acknowledge anything that would happen after.

🌿

Breathing became harder for her as time passed, more so at the striking knowledge she was going to die without being able to do a thing. Mind going back to a somewhat distant memory, Badr thought about her home, her family. Her friends. Her…

“… Asra…”

They parted on less than friendly circumstances, both fighting to get their point across. Stubbornness had always been a common trait, such as caring and worrying deeply about each other.

He wanted to leave. She wanted to stay.

Badr thought she could hold herself quite alright until he came back, possibly with a successful remedy for the Plague. And even if it didn’t come to that, they could work together with Doc to find it.

A serie of coughs came up in her throat, almost choking her while she tried to keep quiet. Julian… Badr hoped he wouldn’t blame himself for this.

“He tends to do that, carrying the weight all by himself…”

Hope. Badr could only hope for the best, for both of them, as she composed herself back again.

She still had some time to fight, to do whatever she could.

Favorite drink: Black Tea

Favorite flower: Wisteria

Birthday: February, 21st

Zodiac sign: Pisces

Height: 181 cm

her magic fluctuates naturally among the elements. her favorite is Earth, while her least favorite is Fire. she can work with Air and Water just fine.

she likes to dance bare-foot on the ground when she’s alone (if someone sees her, though, it’s easy to see her flustered). nonetheless, dancing is one of her favorite hobbies.