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thepixelelf · 4 years

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thepixelelf’s recycling bin

📁 Fool’s Gold.doc

Details: Stray Kids Felix; modern royalty au; modern witch au; unfinished; 3.3k

Nothing came easy to you as the town witch. The modern world had no room for your flimsy magic charms or weak potions anymore, not since science had blown up in a matter of decades. Your magic-fuelled remedies were no match for most medicines, and the only customers you ever got in your tiny little shoppe were traditionalists. Even then, they were all over eighty. They'd probably be dead if they didn't live off of your false immortality salve— the one you claimed was for back problems.

Mystical, incredible power ran through your veins like a rushing river, yes, but the magic you could pass on to others was an insect in comparison. Easily crushed by something bigger. People just didn't need you anymore, and, unlike your late father — the town witch before he passed and you took his place — you were completely averse to charming customers. Enticing them with magic could answer all your problems, it just didn't feel quite… right.

So you kept to yourself in your tiny shoppe, letting yourself live off of the measly funds you gained from the kind grandmas and grandpas, while the rest of the world whirled by. You even bought yourself a smartphone. A cheap, tiny smartphone, but a smartphone nonetheless. It marvelled you how so much could be held in such a small device with no magic whatsoever, and you spent hours just ogling it. Your father never let you buy any technology before, but now you were free to indulge as much as you pleased.

Though, with that purchase you put yourself in a bit of a situation. It seemed as though your customers had disappeared into thin air, seeing as you hadn't seen one in weeks. Each day you stood behind the counter of your store, waiting for no one.

So when one finally walked in you put on your best and brightest customer service smile. They walked around, looking at each item in the store, every aisle like they'd never seen it before. Must have been a new customer. A red hoodie covered most of their face as they kept their head down, so you couldn't really see them, but it didn't matter so much as long as they were going to buy something.

It seemed as though they picked up the jar of Sweet Dreams without really thinking, but you thought nothing of it. As they walked up to the counter, head still pointed downward, you said, "Having nightmares? That'll be 16 units."

They said nothing, but slid a crisp 20 unit bill toward you and walked out.

"Excuse me?" you called. "You forgot your change!"

But they were long gone. Puzzled, you picked up the 20 unit piece. Two slips of paper appeared from under it, one heavier than the other, and fluttered to the ground. Picking it up, you scrutinised the tiny folded note and opened it up, leaving the heavy card for later.

I apologize for not being able to talk to you in person, but I can't be seen here for long.

My name is Jeongin, I'm a servant in the palace.

Two days ago I overheard a conversation about an assassination plot. I don't know who was speaking, and I don't know many details about the plan, but I think someone is going to try to kill the prince during his coronation ball. I haven't told anyone else about this because I have no way of knowing who is in on the plan and who isn't. Even the prince has no idea because I fear telling him will only put him in more danger.

My mother used to tell me amazing things about witches. According to her, your dad was one of the most powerful witches in the country. I'm sorry, but I couldn't think of anyone else to go to.

I've enclosed an invitation to the ball as well as all the details I managed to understand.

Will you help me?

After finishing the note, you read it again three times over. An assassination plot against the prince during his coronation ball? Why would anyone do that?

Prince Felix was loved by the whole kingdom, and his coronation in a week would commemorate his rise to Kingship. On the day he turns 21, all the nobility from all over the country would be in the palace to celebrate. His Royal Highness would make an amazing king, or so you've heard from the news. He was empathetic and kind, he regularly visited charities and fundraisers, hell, he even helped the queen end global warming when he was only twelve. Everyone adored him.

So who the hell was trying to kill him?

Unless this was all a trick, but you doubted that. What would Jeongin gain from sneaking out to your little shoppe at least 50 kilometres from the palace, giving you this cryptic note, and somehow getting you an invitation to the coronation ball? Those are extremely hard to come by; you heard that only the high-ranked would be going.

The other piece of paper was of thick cardstock, with fancy cursive detailing the words, "You are cordially invited to His Royal Highness' Coronation Ball and the 150th anniversary of the New Dynasty!" You thought most invitations were digital nowadays, but of course the royal family would go all out like this, printing hundreds of beautiful cards. What a coincidence that Prince Felix's twenty-first birthday landed on the 150th anniversary of the kingdom, when the monarchy had rerisen after the Half World War.

On the back of Jeongin's note, he wrote what details he could understand from what he overheard. At exactly half past midnight, once the festivities were getting into full swing after the Prince's first and only dance, Prince Felix would die. Jeongin knew it couldn't be poison, as he himself would be helping to serve Felix's food and drink. He promised to taste everything beforehand. But anything else? He had no clue. With the King and Queen on the Prince's right and his chancellor and advisor on his left, as well as the many guards surrounding the high table, Jeongin couldn't imagine anyone attempting an assassination. Though he wasn't willing to take that risk.

All you had to do was be there, close enough to keep an eye on the Prince once the clock struck 12:30. Not as poetic as midnight on the dot, huh? The problem was getting near him at that exact moment. Once the Prince's commemoration dance was finished, he'd be seated at the high table with the person he danced with as a symbol of unity between the royalty and their people.

You had to be the person he danced with.

But how? Your charming skills were extremely rusty, having not used them in years. And you couldn't slip him anything, not with the feast happening after the first dance. Although… you did have your illusions.

Illusions were always your favourite type of magic. As a child, you'd spend days just making beautiful rainbow koi fish fly through the sky, or tiny little dragons play hopscotch with you. You've never tried to put an illusion on your body directly, but it couldn't be that hard. Right?

Which was how you found yourself preparing for a ball. Sure, maybe there was no assassination plot. Maybe Jeongin was just being paranoid. But if that was the case, then you'd just scored a free invitation to the kingdom's anniversary and the Prince's coronation. It was a win-win. Except for the assassination one.

A week passed by much too quickly for your liking, your illusion only perfected the night before the ball. You were exhausted. Illusion magic took work, especially when you had to keep on the "dress" all night for hundreds of eyes. The magic was easiest when just you could see it, and took much, much more energy when making it visible to others, much less an entire ballroom.

As you looked down at your illusion, though, your fleeting pride at finally perfecting the projection faltered. It was a beautiful dress, of course, with a black bodice that flowed into forest greens and eventually white as the skirt hit the floor, but was it enough? You'd practiced coiffing up your hair into something resembling what other nobility wore those days, adding silver hair pieces with your magic. The little ring of silver and the occasional peridot looked a bit like a crown atop your hair. You looked nice, good even. But the awful little voice in the back of your mind told you it wasn't good enough to catch the Prince's eye.

Well. You had what you had.

The day of the ball, you spent most of your time running the shop. There were a few more customers that day, what with rich young girls trying to woo Prince Felix. You sold a few sweet scents like Mysterious and Intriguing. The entire time though, your feet bounced behind the counter, jittery at just the thought of what would happen. A ball. A prince. An assassination. You'd never been a part of something this big.

You thought about what you would do if there really was an attempt on Prince Felix's life. A projectile you could stop, maybe. You've never stopped a bullet mid-air before, but if Jeongin was right and it really happened at 12:30 on the dot… then you had a fairly good chance. Most poisons took some time to take effect, so perhaps you'd be able to extract it even after inserted. Venom though, you'd never worked with venom.

If the prince actually died and you were discovered and suspected… Well. Let's just say it'd be worse than burning at the stake. You hoped Jeongin would keep quiet about you if everything went wrong.

Getting to the palace was easy enough. All you had to do was call a cab in your regular clothes (nevermind your fancy hair) and ask for the palace gates.

"They ain't doing tours today, ya know," the cabbie told you through chewing his gum.

You looked down at your sneakers and pulled out your phone from your back pocket. 10:16. The festivities started at 10:30, so you had two hours to get there, completely canvas the entire ballroom for threats, entice the Crown Prince, get him to ask you to the Prince's First Dance, eat at the high table, and prevent Prince Felix's assassination.

Easy peasy.

(Or so you tried to convince yourself.)

You bit your tongue and told the cabbie to head to the palace anyways. He probably thought you were crazy, asking to go to the palace when all you wore was jeans and a wool sweater, but the fee to the castle was high, and he wasn’t about to refuse it. You asked him to stop the taxi a bit before the gates, where you could see fancy cars and limos dropping off even fancier people. Paying the fee, you bowed a thank-you to the cab driver as he raised an eyebrow. You didn’t need to read his mind to know he thought you were a wackjob.

You eyed the palace, with its pinkish glass walls and gaudy fake plants crawling up the sides. It looked a lot more intimidating up close.

Two voices came close, and you instinctively dialed down your presence. An easy trick for when you had unfinished homework or didn’t want to be picked as a demonstration volunteer at school. While your presence was down, you concentrated on your illusions. You imagined yourself in that extravagant dress and refined hair, a pair of silver dancing flats to match the metal pieces in your hair. The outfit materialised on you, and you let out a breath of relief.

You turned your presence back to normal and walked in.

First things first; you had to find Jeongin. In his letter, he mentioned that he would be serving food, so he could have been near an appetizer table.

The festivities had already begun when you entered, music playing and people swaying on the dance floor, so you had to squeeze between some people. Whispers sounded off as you passed, and you hoped that meant your illusion was doing its job. It was supposed to be attracting the prince’s eyes, but he and the rest of the royal family had yet to enter the ballroom, so for now at least you knew it attracted something.

You got to one of the appetizer tables, which was filled to the edges with various mouth-watering treats that normally would have you distracted, but for now you had no time for that. Scanning the servers positioned around the table, you searched for Jeongin’s aura. You knew you wouldn’t be able to pick it up right away, especially since you’d only seen him for less than a minute in your store, but he would probably be much more nervous than anyone else. If you could feel your own aura, it would be the same.

No Jeongin, not at this table anyways.

There were at least two other tables in the ballroom, and many servants weren’t even stationed at them, instead walking around with trays at shoulder level and offering guests champagne and hors d'oeuvres. It was no use, you’d have to scan the whole room.

You closed your eyes for a moment after remembering to slightly tune down your presence. Scanning an entire ballroom sucked, but you had to do it. The process took a while, but you managed to catch a small blue blip that maybe, maybe, was Jeongin. He wasn’t in the ballroom, though. Maybe you should have studied the layout of this place beforehand.

The aura drew you to another side of the ballroom, where you could see a fancy archway leading to a rather large hall. You slipped away from the party, the music fading as you followed the aura. The walls donned paintings, mostly landscape art, but there were the occasional portraits of the old royal family.

“You’re not allowed back here.”

“Oh my—!”

You whipped around to see a man leaning casually on the wall. He wore mostly white, fancy, yes, but he didn’t look like a guest. Curly, dyed blond hair almost fell into his eyes, and he wore makeup that made him look… well… awfully handsome. Kicking of the wall, he approached you.

“I said, you’re not allowed here,” he repeated. He seemed angry, yet you couldn’t sense any imminent danger.

“Oh, I— um, I was just… uh…” You pressed your lips together. Damn, you were not cut out for this. A secret mission to save the crown prince? No way. You were just… you. No training in life-saving, no experience with anything but basic magic. And definitely zero ability to come up with excuses. “I… was looking for the bathroom.”

Great one. He won’t suspect anything now. Jeez.

He laughed — one of those quick exhales that aren’t really laughs, but are at the same time. A cheeky smile spread across his lips as he stepped closer, backing you up against the wall. Your eyes met his. “The bathroom? You only came in a few minutes ago.”

“How do you…” You looked him up and down, noticing for the first time that his get-up wasn’t for the celebration, but a uniform. A black earpiece stuck out of his left ear. That meant…

“Look, from what I can tell, you’re just another dreamer hoping to catch Felix’s eye,” he said, “but you’re going to have to do that from the dance floor. Otherwise, I’ll have to escort you—”

You gripped his biceps, cutting him off. “You work here?!”

Flustered by your sudden forwardness, he stumbled over his words. “Uh, yes, yes I do.”

“Like all the time?” You leaned closer, slightly moving him with your hands so you could examine his earpiece.

He scoffed like he suddenly remembered himself — the cocky version — and pushed your hands off his arms. “I’m the Head of Guard, so yes, I work here ‘like all the time,’” he mocked, bringing his hands up and gesturing sarcastically.

Unfazed by him making fun of your tone, you returned your gaze to his face. “Do you know Jeongin?”

“Jeongin?” He leaned closer, eyes squinting. “Who are you?”

“I’m… a friend of Jeongin’s. I thought I’d find him in here. Do you know him?”

The man leaned back and stuffed his hands in his pockets. You got him relaxed, thank goodness. You didn’t need anyone finding you suspicious, especially the Head of Guard. It was both lucky and unlucky meeting him; on the one hand, you were almost kicked out, but on the other, now you had a person that could find Jeongin for you. The man seemed trustworthy after you felt his aura.

“There are hundreds of workers in the palace,” he said.

Well, so much for that plan.

“But… Jeongin happens to be a friend of a friend, so I guess you’re in luck.”

You flashed a relieved smile at him. Of course, he did seem like the kind to joke around. Sticking out your hand, you decided that if there was anyone you could trust, it was probably the guy in charge of keeping the royal family safe.

“I’m—” Probably not a good idea to give him your real name. “Fae.”

Your dad used to call you Fae all the time, back when you were young and convinced you were a fairy and not a witch. It took a while, but eventually your learned that faeries — different from the well-known, romanticized fairies — should be feared way more than any old witch. He still called you Fae from time to time, though.

“Chan. Bang Chan,” he said, taking your hand and giving it one firm shake. “Jeongin is stationed at the bar until the Prince’s First Dance.” Chan brought a finger up to his ear, pressing something on the black earpiece. “Jisung, tell Changbin I’ll be back in a few minutes… no, the girl wasn’t suspicious, I’m with her right now… no, she’s not cute—!” He shot a glance at you. And was that blushing you saw? He sighed, poking his cheek with his tongue. “Jisung I’m muting you.”

“Not cute?” You pouted, putting your fists on your hips. This was probably no time for jokes, but you needed to loosen up, otherwise you wouldn’t be saving anyone.

Chan cleared his throat. “Let’s go.”

He led you back into the ballroom, walking quickly. You checked again that your illusion kept up, which it did, and followed him through the crowds. As he walked, you felt Jeongin’s blue aura moving, most likely headed in the same direction you were. Chan brought you to some sort of drink bar, where a few servers wearing white shirts and black vests went around making custom beverages for the guests. Jeongin’s aura had yet to come close enough for you to look for him.

“This is where Jeongin’s stationed until the Prince’s First Dance,” Chan told you as he craned his neck, searching for Jeongin. “I don’t see him though. Hyunjin!”

A server behind the counter lifted his head at Chan’s call. His aura reminded you of a child’s, one that liked to have fun and make others smile. He was cleaning out a tumbler when he turned to walk towards you and Chan.

"No drinking on the job, remember?" he teased, making Chan roll his eyes. His expression shifted a fraction when he spotted you not so subtly hiding behind Chan (your eyes still roaming as they followed the blue aura) and his mouth formed into a smirk. "Who's the pretty one behind you?"

Pretty one. Well, at least this boy thought you looked good. And Chan too, maybe — if his recurring blush was any indication. Hopefully the Prince would think the same.

"No flirting on the job, remember?" Chan mocked, a smile on his face despite his station. You wondered if all heads of guards were this sarcastic. "We're looking for Jeongin."

Hyunjin gave another glance towards you. "He went to get more cherries, why?"

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#recycling.tpe

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