72 For The Honor Or Love

 “We have the right and the responsibility to be intolerant of those things which should not be tolerated.”
~Auliq Ice~

Mildred Latrine
Kurain Village
March 1, 2025, 8:00 PM

The Dragon Lady whistled cheerfully to herself as she headed to the Meeting Hall to join the rest of the Elder Council. She was certain that everything would go according to the plan that day as she’d conspired it to. Surely not even Mystic Maya, in all her concrete obstinacy and resolve, would be able to resist the pressure of an entire board, especially when, with regards to the Kurain leader’s betrothal, they were all on her side!

It was no matter that most of the council didn’t personally loathe the Master as Mildred herself did – a fact which she’d skillfully kept latent when she’d presented her case to them, instead proclaiming how an auspicious marriage could result in nothing but the greater good for all of Kurain. Ultimately, her persuasions had been a slam dunk when coupled with the bare bones at the heart of the matter – ancient revered village custom and tradition, which were sacred above all else. To break such a convention would only bring back all the shame and dishonor to the Fey name that Maya had fought so hard to rise above over the years.

Ergo, the elder was certain this was one argument she could not lose. Admittedly, getting the tenacious young master to agree to the terms might be slightly more difficult than it had been convincing the simple, trusting, traditional Elders, and would be infinitely harder than it’d been getting that sniveling, naïve simpleton pretty boy on board, but the old woman was confident she would triumph victoriously in the end.

She genuinely didn’t believe that her intended actions were rooted in any sort of pure meanness or malice, as much as from a rather exaggerated sense of self-preservation. She wasn’t the only one in this world who was like this, after all, she convinced herself.

If asked, Mildred would honestly reply that she wasn’t sure from precisely what her dismissive apathy of those around her stemmed, or from exactly where her callous, self-serving instincts initially came.  Modern-day psychiatrists might’ve surmised that she hadn’t been given enough hugs throughout childhood, been too often left alone to cry as an infant, or suffered a personality disorder that the doctors couldn’t ever fix. Either way, she had as much mercy for her fellow man as a Colesseum lion upon a doomed Christian. She’d recognized she was atypical from a very early age. Her mother had forever been castigating her for never displaying the correct emotions.  In her early days, the fledgling Yzma incarnate would nonchalantly inquire if it meant that riding lessons were done for the day when her friend had broken her arm falling off a pony.  She had expressed the same lack of concern when her little brother had tripped over his undone shoelaces – which she had neglected to lace up for him – and cracked his skull on the sidewalk. She’d simply queried if this meant a delay in them going out for ice cream. Subsequently, for as long as she could remember, Mildred Latrine had always lacked empathy; the strife and worries of others were never of any concern to her at all, unless she was somehow directly impacted.

She’d learned to look after number one since the early days of her youth. Perhaps this need wouldn’t have necessitated had she not been born with such an unfortunate surname, but she had and thence needed to act accordingly, or been plagued to death by the taunts and ridicule it provoked. All the tykes in her elementary school had played by the same set of rules. It was a survival of the fittest, and the soft kids either got tough or got beaten, every day of their lives. That was just the way it was. Rare ones reformed afterward, understood that those ways were cruel, but stuck with safety, and what was a safer way to prevent being the victim of bullying than being the bully?

In adulthood, the rules remained the same, even if the players were different and older now.  The battlefield playground was no longer one with swings and slides, but boardrooms with chairs and tables where she still wasn’t afraid to resort to manipulation and harrying to get her own way if need be.

Successively, the crone felt zero remorse for duping the admittedly vulnerable, but overly soft and gullible Longines Beaugosse, either.

She refused to apologize for not needing the “kid’s picture book” version of life. In her mind, people got what they got by any means possible, and the “honest” were just too spineless to do otherwise. The law enforcers were just one step away from being the criminals themselves – look at that Phoenix Wright, the forging attorney whom Master Maya had held so dear (and still did, the elder suspected)! The sardonic senior was certain the former defense lawyer was merely one of the many legal men who led double lives; he’d just been stupid enough to get caught!

If there was one thing Mildred had learned in her long life thus far, it was that in this world, no matter what the romanticists and poets would have you believe, there was no such thing as actual selflessness and true love; just people unhesitatingly using other people. They were fools in denial if they thought otherwise, or perhaps in their mental weakness, they could not accept other people, or even themselves, for what they truly were; their brains needed to construct complicated notions of things that did not and could not exist to soothe themselves somehow.

Cynical? Perhaps, but all she needed to do to reinforce her jaded beliefs was look at the history of failed marriages in Kurain, which had hence resulted in a pure matriarchal society!

Mildred had never aspired for what most other women yearned for in life: a husband, children, and a home of her own. She scoffed inwardly at those who did, witnessing as they only wound up being bitter, overly ambitious, single mothers in Kurain, in the manner of Pearl’s mother, Morgan, a two-time loser in the game of marriage!

I don’t understand these faint-hearted, weak women who want a lifetime of slaving … and for what, pray? To raise kids that are just going to hate you, or be indifferent while you rot in an old folk’s home? No chance! If they want the ungrateful little brats, I don’t care, not my problem. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got some more people to maneuver and scam. I just love Kurain’s steadfast resolve in never evolving past archaic tradition. It makes my job so easy. Too easy.

It was all too simple to gain trust – laughably so. First, ask a favor, the bigger the better – but be careful to lace it with flattery. Hardly a person in a hundred would spot it if done right. Hell, it’d worked for her for decades – why stop now when it always worked?

She paused before entering the room, taking a moment to gaze up at the night sky, as dark as it should be with a green snake of light swimming into the horizon. It was at times like this, in remote Kurain Village, that she felt most content. The distance was but an illusion in the twenty-first century. Getting into someone’s life, their head, was no more complicated than breathing.

Well, for her, anyway.

Had Longines not been the one she’d ensnared into her plot, it could just as easily have been another pliant, unassuming sap – some other unfortunate orphan of immeasurable wealth. She’d highlighted quite a few obituaries over the years, desperately seeking the perfect one to fit into her strategy, and would have kept on persevering until she’d found the right unsuspecting bait that bit. It was a game that ultimately brought such sweet rewards, and Mildred was the undefeated grandmaster of it.

It wasn’t as if she would be the only one benefiting from all this hard work, after all. Was it so horrible that in doing all this for the better good of her village, she too, could bask and reap in the victory of the spoils?

The village elder entered the hall, taking her place at the opposite head of the long table in the back while noting from the vacant chair at the front head that the Master still had not arrived. No matter. Maya would be on her way soon enough.

A supercilious smile crept on the old woman’s phizog as she propped her elbows on the table, putting together her long, bony fingers into a temple-like steeple.

Like a black widow resting in its web, Mildred patiently awaited her prey.

Maya Fey and Pearl Fey
Kurain Village
March 1, 2025, 8:05 PM

“Why would the council call for a meeting at this late hour, Mystic Maya?” The completely bewildered Pearl asked as she hurried alongside her guardian on the way to the meeting hall from Fey Manor. “Especially since we just got back from an out-of-state conference earlier this evening! Don’t these mean old ladies care or think that you’d be tired? I know I am! We haven’t even had dinner yet!”

“Hey, I thought I was the one with the six stomachs who was always hungry!” The Kurain leader grinned at the 15-year-old, who stuck out her tongue playfully in response to the jibe. “I’m sure this won’t take too long, Pearly. The chef can easily whip us up some noodles or a burger after the meeting.”

“Well, I am related to you, so the hearty appetite must run in the family!” The acolyte exclaimed, patting her flat tummy. “I sure hope you’re right, because I need my nourishment – spirit channeling all week took a lot out of me. And don’t forget – I am a growing girl, after all!”

“How can I forget? You’re like a noisy little calendar! You’re getting older so it means I am too, missy!” Even as she kidded, there was an unmistakable expression of maternal love in Maya’s eyes as she regarded the lovely young lass she’d essentially been raising for the past seven years as her biological daughter. Her small medium was still nowhere near large, though notably, no longer a child and was most definitely still growing. Thus far, nature and puberty had been quite kind indeed.

Remaining sweetly baby-faced despite her more mature facial structure, the traces of the little girl from yesteryear still lingered in Pearl’s smile and willowy form. Another year and her curves would fill out a bit more, just enough to give her an adult shape. She had the trappings of early womanhood already; dangling from the pretty pearl necklace Maya had gifted her for Christmas was her ever-present magatama, and her taffy-colored hair, so reminiscent of Mia’s, although still worn in its endearing, double-looped hairstyle, now touted a purple bead at the end of each long tendril hanging in the front of her rosy cheeks. The youngest Fey clan member’s flawless, porcelain-skinned visage bore a nose that was but was a pert bump just above her dusky pink lips, on which she wore just a hint of clear gloss. Her delicate, doll-like countenance neither bore nor required any makeup, except for a hint of mascara on her enormous, long-lashed amethyst gray eyes, her most dazzlingly prominent feature. It was just the right hint of maquillage, enough to show she wasn’t a kid, yet not as much as an older woman would wear.

Naturally, the necromancer was admittedly biased in her observations, but as far as she was concerned, there were no two ways about it – her darling Pearly was quite the budding beauty indeed.

Her little girl’s youthful exuberance put some extra pep in the psychic’s comparatively sluggish step. The world still excited the teen; she saw opportunities ahead, a life of good fun, and good health. The Master, who was indeed slightly worn out from the week-long convention, desperately needed her cousin’s energetic disposition to rub off on her, especially since she was about to head to an assembly with the Elders. The meeting was going to be chaired by the Dragon Lady, no less, which could never be a pleasant thing!

The village head heaved a soundless sigh as the two entered the Meeting Hall.

Being the leader of Kurain was an often unenviable position. The spirit medium might have considered giving it up had she not been so thoroughly aware of how her mother, Diego, Mia, and Phoenix had put themselves on the line so she could inherit her rightful position.

The outward hostility of the council had diminished since they’d witnessed the horror of Mildred’s banishment to the icy outskirts of the village, and they had since softened their behavior and actions towards their leader. Nonetheless, they still often tried to undermine and overrule Maya’s decisions at every turn. Therefore, there had been no success the Master had ever earned in changing matters to her liking that hadn’t ever been hard-won or required a draining rebuttal on her end!

At times, the diviner wondered if she’d missed her calling; all this argumentative combat was reminiscent of her days in the courtroom at Phoenix’s side – she often thought she’d have made one helluva lawyer!

Nonetheless, she hated always needing to resort to strong-arm tactics to get her way, considering she was in charge! It made her feel in danger of becoming obsolete. She felt it when the elders began gleefully describing the happier, peaceful times of Kurain “back in the day,” giving her the feeling that no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t do anything right or to anyone else’s liking.  And even on the rare occasions that she did make an overall favorable ruling, the unsolicited critiques remained. Either her decisions were mere copies of another more favored predecessor; her thoughts and ideas were still not yet adequate to the demands, or her ideas of modernization in such a place of ancient and sacred customs were something to be ashamed of.

Maya often felt unaccomplished as Master – as though something always needed tending or fixing to, and it was never enough, no matter how hard she tried to keep on top of things. It seemed the council was always ranting on about how certain pressing matters required immediate attention, or this other matter needed to be “just so” or this particular change wasn’t quite “good enough.”

Sadly, she was beginning to realize that no matter how much or what she had done, someone else somewhere had already done it, or allegedly done it better, in a manner that appeased the masses, not just herself (like the additions of the burger chef and Netflix) and having her personal desires fulfilled was nothing to be proud about. She had tried her best to create a Kurain that had kept up with the times. Something amazing to behold, that was thriving and back on the maps as a respected place of channeling, yet it seemed she was still considered an unworthy usurper who was out of her league and outside her realm.  She didn’t like the impression of having zero imagination and no good ideas. Moreover, she hated feeling as though she was being rained upon every time she placed an idea on the table – she didn’t want to have to put up with it anymore!

Accordingly, she relished any opportunity to travel out of the village on retreats, conferences, and conventions – especially ones in LA every fortnight, where she could seek solace in Phoenix’s loving arms.

All in all, she was looking forward to this council meeting as much as she would her own damnatio ad bestias!

The Burger Queen’s void stomach growled uncomfortably, making her briefly sympathize with the ravenous king of the beasts who’d feasted upon those sacrificed martyrs in Roman times!

Thirteen expectant sets of eyes were on the Feys as they entered the room. Pearl, as second-in-command, took her lawful spot on the Master’s right-hand side, while Maya seated herself at the head of the table.

“Mystic Maya,” Mildred purred, beaming winsomely at her in a disturbing manner that made the psychic’s skin crawl. “How nice of you to finally join us.”

The spirit medium detested it when the termagant would skin her teeth at her, and almost preferred her foes’ former overt antagonism in its stead. Every smile that lit up the harridan’s features was the wrong sort. It was as though the Dragon Lady ran purely on pure malice, rather than of any form of genuine affection with the action.

To squelch the sudden, uneasy, misgiving feelings stirring within her, the Master returned the thinly-veiled barbed greeting with her own, no-nonsense one while she struggled to keep her tone pleasant.

“As you all know, Pearly and I were away all week in New Orleans, promoting the Kurain Channeling Technique, and only arrived back in the village barely an hour ago for this eleventh-hour meeting,” she answered coolly. “I do hope our five-minute delay, in our efforts to freshen up somewhat from our travels, hasn’t inconvenienced anyone too badly?”

“Not at all, Mystic Maya,” assured Mystic Matilda, flashing a warning look at Mildew, which the beldame blithely ignored. “We shall try to keep things short and sweet thus, and appreciate your gracious accommodation tonight.”

“Well, I imagine you shall want to call it an early evening then so you and Mystic Pearl can retire your surely exhausted selves for the evening,” the Dragon Lady cooed with faux sympathy. “Therefore, I shall cut right to the chase, and without further ado, bring to light the reason for this meeting.”

“That would be most preferred, thank you.” The spirit medium crossed her arms and raised a brow at the village elder, whose unsettling smile only grew wider in response.

“This meeting, esteemed village leader,” Mildew rose from her seat and pointed at her foe. “Is all about you.”

“Me?” Maya echoed, pointing to herself, as she was so caught off-guard.

“A pressing matter has come to the attention of the council,” the She-Thing went on. “You are soon to be pushing your third decade in life…”

“I’m turning 27 next month!” She retorted hotly, without thinking. “That’s three whole years away!”

Also, that’s still at least a half-century younger than your, withered, spinster heinie, Methuselah!

“While not a requirement, according to village tradition, it is desirous that Kurain Masters be married by or before the age of 30,” Mildred continued, as though her adversary hadn’t spoken. Her smile had now morphed into a sneer as the blood visibly drained from the young woman’s face. “Why, Misty Fey was married and bore your elder sister by the time she was 19!”

For the first time, Maya briefly pondered the possibility that her parents might have had an arranged marriage, especially if her mother had been married at such a young age.

That’s just peachy. The one favorable thing these shrews ever said about my mother, and this is what they come up with?! And the sole thing about her that I have no desire to emulate whatsoever?!

“… As elders, it is our solemn and foresworn duty, to bear in mind what is in the best interests and operations of Kurain Village, and not only assist with its spiritual learnings but to also aid the Master in finding a suitable husband to secure the production of a legitimate heir.”

The necromancer’s flabbergasted mind was reeling with matchless fury at this unprecedented rug being swept out from beneath her feet. This was what her life had come to? Six blasted years of selflessly putting the frigging village along with everyone else’s wants and needs before her own, in the name of this accursed position she’d never wanted … and now they were going to hound her to hurry up and produce a successor to the Kurain Master position as though they were still in the Dark Ages?!

Are you freaking fisting me?! Just because I’m 27 and still unwed, they think that means time is running out?!

Maya had to admit that until Phoenix, she’d had little interest in having offspring and if she’d prematurely passed away, Pearl was quite welcome to the Master position. But one of the main reasons she and her boyfriend had been bickering so much lately was because she wanted to bear his children someday, which couldn’t very well happen with their current status in each other’s lives as undercover lovers!

An explosion of past events, scenes, and people flashed through the poleaxed Master’s consciousness.

I love you madly, without question or reason, and care naught if it’s for a lifetime or a season.

I’m forever yours, faithfully.

Nick. The love of her life. The man she’d lost her mind and heart to nearly a decade ago. The man whose promise ring she was wearing, discreetly tucked away on a necklace, under her robes, along with the ever-present, visible locket, swearing his everlasting love, that he’d bequeathed her on her 21^st birthday.

Sweet Bouncing Baby Buddha! How can these wretched witches do this to me?  Her mind screamed frantically. Moreover, how could Maya do such a thing to Phoenix? What kind of choice was this?! Forsake their love, after everything they’d been through to be together, in the name of revered tradition and family honor, or risk complete ostracization and dishonor to her family name?

In the horrid aftermath of her Master ceremony, despite keeping their relationship under wraps (something nobody in Kurain, save for the mum Pearl, knew about), the Kurain head wasn’t stupid enough to think that her secret lover hadn’t been a factor when the elders had made this momentous decision. No doubt, the wizened harpies were concerned that the only male in the picture seemed to be that “good-for-nothing Phoenix Wright,” who was worse than nobody. The level of ostracism they’d previously heaped on Misty Fey paled in comparison to the vile venom they’d intermittently spewed at the village leader about the “fraudulent ex-lawyer” during the irritating meetings they’d demanded over the years.

Now, in their latest attempts to put that final nail in the Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey coffin, as their concluding pretense of ultimate power and control over her, which had rescinded in the past five years, this was what they had come up with; it was the final frontier. The diviner was certain this was naught but a sheer act of desperation that had resulted in the elders now trying to reinforce the archaic tradition of arranged marriage.

It didn’t matter. This Master was going to be the master of her own fate and when the time was right, marry for love, and not some antiquated concept of familial duty! There was absolutely no other option for her, tradition and customs be damned.

I am going to marry my Nick and that is final!

She was unaware that as she’d been gripping the locket in her hand, which was dangling freely around her neck, her mouth had fallen open in stunned horror, and her parted lips had subconsciously mouthed the word: Phoenix.

The entire council witnessed this, and it was their turn to now look as gobsmacked as Maya undoubtedly had, save for the Dragon Lady. But it was now too late to retract it.

“Just as I suspected,” Mildred snarled, folding her arms across her scrawny chest. “You’re still stuck on that disgraceful forging attorney, Phoenix Wright, aren’t you? Admit it! You never ceased ties with him when we commanded you to, did you, Mystic Maya?”

The village head’s eyes widened at the unexpected accusation, the guilt written all over her face as clear as day, and the elder stepped up her attack, full-throttle.

“I should have known! There’s no way anyone who wasn’t getting laid regularly on the sly would have such a glowing complexion!”

Maya gasped and reeled back in shock at such blatant crudeness, finding herself speechless, even though she was internally screaming mindless obscenities that she yearned to fling at the foul-mouthed, dirty-minded old shrew.

“I wasn’t even sure until now. I was merely hazarding a guess,” Mildred added, her voice as Arctic as her words. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Mr. Wright is not a person whom we would want to be affiliated with our village!”

The diviner mentally willed her shuddering knees to stop knocking. Her whole body was trembling now, she was so livid, and silently ordered the rest of her to fall in line. Retreat would be a disaster, a show of weakness, an inlet for the enemy to surge through. Nothing on her mien betrayed her fear of being so outnumbered, and she composed her features to ensure it was a mask of defiance and surety. Never back down or let them see you sweat was her motto. This was why she was the fearless village leader. She’d overcome way more fearsome obstacles in her life than the likes of the Dragon Lady, and Maya would ensure she’d find a way to deal with her traducer accordingly for the audacious, underhanded masterminding of this magnitude.

However, there was a time and a place for that later, and at that moment, this sure as hell wasn’t it.

After all, for a woman of not even 30 who had thrice been on trial for murder, kidnapped, possessed by a demon, almost murdered, nearly frozen to death, and woken up from a coma, Mildred Latrine was nothing but a fart in a hurricane!

The Master, at last, found her voice.

“That’s not your call to make and you damn well know it! Our village, as you so quaintly put it, is actually my village, and hence, I shall – befriend whom I bloody well please!”

There was no way she was going to elaborate on the fact that Phoenix was so much more than merely her friend at that moment. Not with the despicable, lewd way the decrepit wyvern had just painted their relationship before the council.

And in front of little Pearly, no less!

“Have you been lying to us all this time about severing ties with him, Mystic Maya?” Mystic Matilda asked quietly, but with just as much intensity as Mildred. “It was bad enough that you continued to call him your friend after that … scandalous incident six years ago, but now this?” She shook her head in dismay. “Surely you understand that associations with a man like this, being a woman of your stature and caliber, can be an embarrassment to Kurain Village…”

“Embarrassment is an understatement!” Mildred yapped, interrupting the other woman. “It’s a flat-out disgrace to this village, is what it is, and a disgrace to you as Master!”

Out of the corner of her eye, the psychic saw Pearl push back her sleeve in a rather threatening manner, and shook her head vigorously at the pint-sized spitfire. The girl reluctantly obeyed and rolled her sleeve back down, clearly annoyed, although she joined her cousin in glaring daggers at Mildred.

Maya was so furious with her antagonist that she temporarily took leave of her senses. She leaped to her feet and slammed the table with her hands, reminiscent of Phoenix when he had been an Ace Attorney, all the while ignoring the stinging pain in her palms the action caused.

Ouch, that freaking hurts! How the hell does Nick keep doing that?! Does he have hands of steel or something?!

“Objection! Cease this slander immediately! If you had a mind anywhere near as big as that mouth of yours, Mildred, you’d bloody well realize that Nick was framed! Everyone with half a brain knows that, except for you!” She shouted, pointing her finger, courtroom-style at her asperser, her voice shaking with rage. “Despite this being my village, I have at least obeyed the council’s wishes and not allowed Mr. Wright to set foot here since the day you cast him out like a stray dog! All this time, in keeping my so-called esteemed position in mind, I’ve practiced the utmost discretion in all my dealings with him. Yet you’re still content to keep bad-mouthing him to me in such an impudent manner? Nick has lambasted himself enough these past six years –he doesn’t need the likes of you coming along and giving him a hand!”

All the women in the room gawked at their leader, mouths all agape in consternation, except for Matilda. The secondary council head was staring down at the table as if in deep thought, although the corner of her mouth was twitching, as though fighting the urge to break out into a smile of admiration.

Mildred was the first to speak.

“Sit down and hold your tongue!” She barked in command, undaunted by the passionate outburst.

In all actuality, what the spirit medium fervently wanted to do was stick out her tongue at all of these hags, while accompanying it with the raising of a particular finger, to boot! Conversely, the miniature, remaining rational part of her knew that it wouldn’t help the situation at all, and would only make things worse.

Nevertheless, she ensured she remained standing as the elders began fiercely whispering and muttering amongst one another, until Mildred, the last to come to her senses, loudly cleared her throat for their attention. Immediately, the room turned silent and the women all turned to gauge her reaction.

Opting to ignore the Master’s flare-up, Mildew continued with the topic at hand. She knew that any candidate she came up with for potential matching would immediately be disqualified by her rival in a nanosecond, on the mere basis that the antipathy between the two was 100% mutual!  So, while Ketsuno Ana was indeed a very real matchmaker, the elder had no desire to act in any compulsive manner that would immediately have Longines be taken out of the running as the sole competing suitor! Her plan was contingent on showcasing profiles of less-than-desirable suitors, all of whom would blatantly pale in comparison to the successful hair heir, giving Maya no choice but to choose the billionaire as the best prospect for marriage, all the while being duped into thinking it’d ultimately been her own choice! It was the perfect plan, with every single base covered; it was just a matter of convincing the damn stubborn-as-a-mule girl to comply!

“This was not a hastily made decision, Mystic Maya, or one we are taking lightly. I had taken the liberty of recruiting the services of a professional matchmaker from Japan, named Ketsuno Ana. She has been in the business practice of miai for decades and has been responsible for many successful marriages, both in and out of Kurain. She has been notified and is searching for interested candidates even as we speak.”

The necromancer felt her stems turn to cooked spaghetti then. This wasn’t all just a bad dream or a mere threat. It was all very real. This was happening. She gripped the edge of the table for strength, praying her legs wouldn’t give out and that she could manage to remain upright, even as she gawped at Mildew in disbelieving silence, hoping she had heard the elder incorrectly.

The Dragon Lady, however, seemed to revel in her stupefied state.

“We are just waiting on Ketsuno to submit a list of short profiles to the person who requested the miai – in this case, me, on behalf of you, which should be coming in any day now.” Her tone was smug even as she smirked at the diviner’s helpless expression. “You shall have quite a variety of expertly selected suitors to choose from, Mystic Maya.”

The Kurain head felt her eyes growing red and the stinging sensation of tears burning behind them, which she would have rather died than let the old witch see fall.

“In the meantime,” Mildred prattled on. “As we are in the process of getting this ball rolling, things are a bit rushed, as we’d like to have this wrapped up as soon as possible. Unfortunately, you will need to tell your friend, Mr. Wright that he will have to maintain his covert friendship status henceforth, permanently. However, there will be no objections from the council whatsoever, should you decide to wisely acquiesce with the original orders and sever ties with that no-goodnik completely…”

The Kurain leader bit her tongue, trying to hold the tears that threatened to leave her now burning eyes. She was aware that every gaze in the room, including the stunned, dismayed one of the mute Pearl, was glued unwaveringly to the Master as to they awaited her response to this fallen hammer.

All the psychic would think of was how sickened to the pit of her stomach she’d felt when she’d first discovered Phoenix had been disbarred and was consciously aware, despite her misery, that compared to six years earlier, this present feeling of gut-level revulsion was ten times worse! But, perhaps most of all, she was cognitively aware of the cold rage that was building up inside her.

“Mystic Maya?” The teen asked worriedly, placing a hand on her cousin’s arm. “Are you all right?”

The psychic’s dark eyes swung over in the adolescent’s direction briefly, so blurred by her withheld tears she could barely see. Seeing the distraught expression on that beloved face gave her the gumption to find her voice at last.

“Never.” She hissed, raising her chin and glowering hatefully at Mildew.

“I beg your pardon?” The clearly slighted Dragon Lady dramatically clapped a hand on her chest.

Maya couldn’t have cared less.

“You heard me.” She didn’t even blink as she kept her infuriated eyes locked on those of her arch-fiend, which were two like two icy bottomless pits of black coal. “After all that’s happened, you have one hell of a lot of nerve, still trying to play God and dictate what I do with my life, Mildew, as well as going behind my back like this! Regardless, I’ll spare you the trouble.”

Her voice raised a notch.

“I will never agree to go along with this! And there’s nothing you can do to make me!”

It was the truth – in a manner of speaking.  In all actuality, the Elder Council couldn’t force Maya to do anything, as she was Master. However, the adage of with great power comes great responsibility was all too true in this instance, and what would ultimately leave the village leader vulnerable to eventual persuasion. The position conferred not only international power and status but also required a lot of ugly politics with the various powerbrokers and hangers-on involved in Kurain and its myriad branch-family towns. This deeply-entrenched network of old village elders mostly appeared to have been loyal to Morgan Fey, and now Mildred, and hence, still regarded the Fey heiress with the same disrespect as her disgraced mother. While the master didn’t have to do anything they said, they could make still life unbearable for her and spread gossip… and worse.

Her thoughts switched back to Phoenix, and the genuine fear she saw in his eyes that he wasn’t skilled enough to mask from her when it came to Kristoph Gavin. What if word got out she was still with Nick and this paranoid fear of his was legitimate and it came around to bite them both?

“No one is making you do a thing, Mystic Maya,” Mildred replied in the irksome, condescendingly patient tone one normally reserved for a slow child. “In the history of Kurain Village, no person has ever made the Master do anything against her will. However, it is because they are the Master that they must do what they are honor-bound to do, for the sake of the village, in a manner much like a mother making a sacrifice for the better good of her child. After all – and this is hardly a slanderous statement in this instance as it happens to be the truth: Did or did not your mother, Mystic Misty, willingly disappear, because of the shame she brought upon the village for her mistake? Need we fear that you too, will abdicate in the same manner and have history repeat itself, leaving this Kurain once again in shambles?”

The diviner felt her battle against her pent-up tears losing ground entirely. With a barely muffled cry, she shoved back her chair from the table, knocking it over in the process, as she bolted to the door, ignoring Pearl calling after her, her whole body shaking with the effort of suppressing her sobs. The sound of her footsteps and the dull thud of wood upon the tatami mat were the only sounds inside the room where the elders remained, with not even the sounds of breathing heard within that room of stone-cold silence.