Countless massive tentacles coiled high in the sky.
A colossal magic circle engulfed half the forest, transforming what was once a peaceful and serene woodland into a place blanketed in a purple-hued fear.
Aurora held a golden longbow in her hand, her nearly translucent body drifting weakly as she approached Beatrice.
Golden light radiated from her surroundings, vivid blossoms blooming across the pink dress she wore.
Her long silver hair fluttered freely in the breeze.
Unlike the pointed ears of elves, fairy ears were longer and softer, swaying gently with the wind’s caress.
In her pupils, the golden clock’s hour and minute hands both pointed to the twelfth stroke.
At this moment, Aurora resembled a goddess descending from the heavens—beautiful, yet ephemeral.
“It’s been… a long time, Beatrice.”
Her steps slowed to a halt as she stopped ten meters away from Beatrice.
She looked into Beatrice’s eyes. But in Aurora’s gaze, longing was overshadowed by guilt.
“Heh, you really made me look for a long time, Aurora.”
Beatrice’s expression was brimming with madness.
With a slight flick of her right hand, a massive tentacle shot out toward Aurora.
Yet she didn’t dodge.
She let the tentacle wrap tightly around her body.
The golden longbow slipped from her hand and instantly dissolved into glowing particles that vanished into the air.
The tentacle lifted Aurora high into the air.
The tight squeeze around her body caused a burning pain, as if she were being corroded.
Aurora let out a weak, pained cry, her voice frail and powerless.
“I won’t run anymore, Beatrice… so please let it go.”
“Who? Oh, you mean that thing.”
Beatrice glanced at the elven queen, who had reverted to a blue blossom out of instinctive fear, and flicked her aside with a tentacle, full of contempt.
“You’re still as kind as ever, Aurora.”
Beatrice rose into the air on her broom, drifting slowly until she was face to face with Aurora.
Aurora dared not meet her gaze, lowering her head to avoid eye contact.
“Click.”
Beatrice manipulated a tentacle to forcefully lift Aurora’s chin so their eyes would meet.
“Aurora… someone as kind as you… couldn’t you have spared a little pity for me?”
“Why did you run away?”
Her voice was icy cold as she asked.
This question had haunted Beatrice for a long time without answer.
She had once loved Aurora so much—so deeply—but ever since her legs were destroyed, Aurora had wanted nothing more than to leave.
To escape from her side.
“Because… the curse…”
“What curse?!”
“I’m a witch. If there really were a curse, do you think I wouldn’t be able to see it?!”
“Even after all this time, you’re still clinging to that excuse?”
“I loved you so much, Aurora. Then why—why did you run away? Was it because of my legs?”
“Because I can’t take you on journeys anymore, you had to go find someone else? Tell me why!”
Beatrice clenched her fist and struck Aurora across the face.
A red mark instantly bloomed on her pale cheek.
She grabbed Aurora’s face and yanked her closer.
Warm tears dripped down Aurora’s cheeks, soaking into Beatrice’s hand, trailing along the curve of her fingers and pooling on the back of her palm.
“That’s more like it, Aurora.”
“This crying face… that’s the real you.”
Watching Aurora’s endless tears, Beatrice’s expression twisted into a sickly smile.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
Aurora kept apologizing in a low voice.
Every attempt at an explanation sounded so hollow, so powerless. She knew—Beatrice would never forgive her.
“I won’t blame you, Aurora. I love you so much… and I hate you just as much!”
“I’ll break you, piece by piece. Crush you. Tame you. You’ll repay every single thing you owe me all these years!”
With that, Beatrice bit her thumb, and with the blood, drew a crimson magic sigil on the back of her other hand.
“Tell me—where do you want your familiar’s brand to go?”
Aurora lowered her gaze, saying nothing in return.
“Please… just let me go quietly.”
“I don’t want my curse to hurt anyone else…”
“Even now, you’re still lying!”
“Fine, then let me decide.”
Beatrice licked the blood from her fingertip, then seized Aurora’s chin and kissed her forcefully.
“Mmph…”
The metallic taste of blood filled Aurora’s mouth.
Their tongues pressed tightly together—and then a searing pain began to spread from her tongue, burning its way through her entire body.
As their lips parted, a faint purple mark—matching Beatrice’s—appeared on Aurora’s flushed tongue.
Beatrice brushed aside the strands of Aurora’s hair damp with sweat and pressed their foreheads together.
“Recite it with me. You know the contract incantation, don’t you?”
“I… I do,” came Aurora’s tearful reply.
But Beatrice showed no hint of pity.
She forcefully cupped Aurora’s face, making her meet her gaze again.
“Familiar pact, with me as master.”
“Familiar bond… with me… as servant.”
“With the sky as lock, and the earth as chain.”
“With… the burning sun… as you, and the moonlit night… as me.”
“Here, the familiar contract is sealed. Only this servant, only for you.”
The final line of the chant remained unsaid.
Beatrice’s expression darkened, and she tightened her grip on Aurora’s face.
The cheek she had slapped earlier throbbed with pain—an unspoken warning urging Aurora to speak the last words.
“Here… I accept the familiar pact. Only this master… only for you.”
The incantation was complete.
In that instant, crimson magical sigils bloomed around their bodies, etched in an unknown script.
The patterns multiplied, swirling and intertwining, ultimately forming a crimson chain.
The chain wrapped tightly around them both.
And just before it fully enclosed them, Beatrice finally showed a twisted, satisfied smile, a look of manic delight.
Then the chain dissolved into glowing red characters, which imprinted themselves onto their skin—only to fade moments later, vanishing without a trace.
When the ritual ended, Aurora collapsed to the ground, her body steaming with heat as if her insides were burning alive.
Beatrice, too, was overcome—but unlike Aurora, she showed no sign of pain.
Instead, she reveled in the hellish agony that now bound them together.
“Aurora, my precious little parasitic fairy.”
Riding her broom, Beatrice floated gently toward the collapsed Aurora.
She dismounted, kneeling down to the ground just like Aurora.
Pulling Aurora into her arms, she softly comforted her as she writhed in pain.
“There, there. No more running away from now on, okay?”
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