Living As the Villainess Queen

The lizard’s body tensed momentarily before the red energy faded from its eyes. Regaining control, it blinked slowly before darting away into the safety of a nearby crevice.

In the underground cavern, a translucent figure materialized above the dining table, gradually taking on a human form. Marra, now present, glanced briefly at the old men before addressing them. 

“Did you achieve success today?” asked one of the old men.

Another chuckled, “Success? Looks like you were chased off again.”

Mara, frustration evident in his voice, retorted, “I keep telling you, she’s an Anika with a fiery temper!”

“You impudent fool,” another elder admonished. “You cannot simply abduct a noble lady and expect everything to fall into place. The world doesn’t work that way.”

Seated boldly before the council of elders, Mara voiced his frustration. “What exactly am I supposed to do?”

“Why do you seek our counsel?” one elder countered dismissively. “We have no inclination to aid your schemes.”

Unfazed, Mara pressed on. “Aren’t we on the same boat? You’re fed up with holding onto this magic, aren’t you? Then you should help me break this magic quickly.”

An elder who had reclined on the floor rose to his feet, questioning Mara’s intentions. “While we’re at it, let’s be clear. What are your plans for that Anika? What do you intend to do with the magic controlling larks?”

“We must ambush the man in the castle,” Mara insisted.

“The king has pledged to apprehend him. Now that his identity is exposed, the king will handle it himself. If you wish, release the magic now. Even if he discerns your location by breaking your seal, he cannot reach us immediately,” another elder interjected.

Mara faltered, unable to formulate a response. Sensing his hesitation, yet another elder probed, “And once you dispose of the man in the castle, what then? Do you aspire to claim his position? Beware, for the kings will hunt you down.”

“Who desires such a fate?” Mara scoffed. “Furthermore, if the man in the castle meets his death, do you believe the kings will overlook me? I would become their next target.”

The elders exchanged weary glances. “He comprehends reality well,” one remarked.

“He’s barely lived a year or two. It’s a wonder his head hasn’t spun off,” another mused.

Mara’s patience wore thin. “You old fogeys are testing my limits! Can’t you just escort me to the afterlife already?”

“Be our guest,” one elder quipped.

“This one talks big, but he’s hardly intimidating,” another muttered.

“He threatens us at every turn, yet none of us tremble in fear. Oh, the irony,” remarked another with a hint of gratitude.

Mara sneered at the grumbling elders. It seemed they were oblivious to their own intentions.

“Hmph. If the king dares to come for me, I’ll use you as shields. Wanderers like you are handy; he wouldn’t dare harm you. And you won’t perish until my life force is depleted, as I’ll cling to you tightly,” Mara declared, his tone brimming with confidence.

“You’ll cower behind us for protection?” one elder remarked incredulously.

“Yeah. He’s certainly got a peculiar way of thinking,” another elder added with a shake of his head.

Interrupting their conversation, Mara lifted his head. “He’s arrived. Aldrit.”

“He’s already here?” one elder questioned in surprise. “It’s not time yet. Did he return ahead of schedule?”

“Now that you mention it, what was Aldrit up to before he left?” Mara pondered aloud. “Seemed like he was plotting something for quite some time.”

“Just delving into the usual magic,” one elder replied nonchalantly. “If you’re curious, feel free to join us and listen.”

Mara scrutinized the elders suspiciously before vanishing from sight. As Mara’s presence dissipated, the elders lowered their voices, engaging in hushed conversation.

“Anyway, he’s as astute as a ghost,” one elder remarked.

“I’m not sure; are you?” another responded with uncertainty.

“I couldn’t tell you. He’s a bit enigmatic, that one.”

“Nevertheless, he’s an intriguing character. Sharp at times, yet a tad obtuse at others,” the elders chuckled amongst themselves as they dissected Mara’s demeanor.

Ten days had drifted by since Aldrit’s return, casting a somber pall over the village with the arrival of the urn. Seizing the opportunity amidst the heavy atmosphere, Mara cautiously approached Flora once more, his movements shrouded in discretion.

Observing Flora’s recent interactions with the wanderers’ children, Mara pondered if her demeanor had shifted. Transforming into a young raccoon, he stealthily prowled around the wooden abode. Despite the customary time for an afternoon stroll approaching, an unusual stillness enveloped the surroundings.

Slipping through the cracks in the walls, Mara swiftly assessed the scene within the house. Flora sat upon the floor, her gaze distant, lost in thought with her head nestled between her knees. Sensing something amiss, Mara inwardly sighed, bracing himself for another precarious situation as he cautiously addressed Flora.

“Anika,” Mara called out softly, anticipating her lack of response. Yet, to his surprise, Flora lifted her head.

“You,” she murmured, her eyes locking onto the young raccoon with a mixture of recognition and frustration. The encounter with the children earlier had left her deeply perplexed, summoning forth the creature of unknown origin.

Lost in contemplation, Flora absentmindedly etched symbols into the ground with a stick, remnants of the ritual she had inadvertently participated in. When the children recognized the markings, their familiarity sparked a disconcerting realization within her—how could the wanderers’ children be acquainted with sacred symbols of the divine?

Overwhelmed by anxiety, Flora’s steadfast beliefs began to falter. “What do you want?” she inquired, her voice trembling with uncertainty. “I am willing to listen. Who are you? Where am I?”

The raccoon’s red eyes narrowed slightly.

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