Melia the Magnificent

Once those 30 minutes were up, all the people who indulged in [Nostalgia’s Embrace] turned back to their normal selves in a puff of pink smoke. Some looked sad, disappointed that they needed to return to their everyday lives, while others looked relieved.

Like Melia herself, they must not have had the fondest memories of growing up.

Others still looked incredibly embarrassed, in Ellesea’s case, while Jessica looked like she was plotting how to smuggle extra sandwiches out of the kitchen with her.

Melia made a mental note to keep the recipe handy just in case she needed to pull a good prank. Perhaps Jessica could be enlisted as an accomplice…those poor brothers at the abbey would never see it coming.

Penny, of all people, seemed overjoyed at the possibility of adding a new dish with a special effect to her exclusive “dishes with benefits” menu. Even though it featured nearly identical ingredients to those she herself had used, the results showed that more went into [Cooking] than what got thrown into a pot. Or a pan. Or an oven. And so forth.

Melia spent an extra 45 minutes making several more batches of sandwiches until Penny made one of her own that finally had the effect. No longer were her results [Simple Grilled Cheese Sandwiches], but genuine [Nostalgia’s Embraces], blessed by the system with special effects.

All the while, Alastair helped corral any wayward [Cook], [Server], or adventurer that got too close to the extra samples. The man was a veritable wellspring of patience, but even he had his limits. Melia had watched him instantly shift gears into daycare mode as he found himself babysitting a bunch of unruly children running around in a kitchen full of sharp knives and dangerous appliances. Specifically, he pulled Jessica off a wall before she could climb the rack full of industrial-sized pots, and he had to steer Y’cennia away from a heated oven, which was warm and made her drowsy. She’d curled up after all of 5 minutes of running around and was already asleep. Melia snuck an extra sandwich into her inventory just in case Alastair wanted to try it himself and maybe exact some revenge.

After everyone was back to normal and Penny had her new dish, it was time to part ways. Not permanently, and not nearly as long as her last absence, as Penny dropped to her knees and practically begged Melia to visit more often. She would have thought the [Chef] was only doing it to con more magic recipes out of her, but the final, tight hug she squeezed Melia in told her the truth. Melia promised to visit more often, and she’d definitely make use of that table set aside for gnomes and their parties.

​

“So what do we do from here?” Melia asked.

Her plans were vague but broad. There was so much she wanted to see, but so little that actively demanded her attention. She wouldn’t mind roaming down to the beach, perhaps to visit her old house. That was definitely one of the top items on her list. Frankly, one of the bigger reasons she hadn’t gone sooner was that there wasn’t anything of particular use or value to her there, while everything that was, was stored in her vault. She didn’t want to see it in a state of disrepair and get depressed.

Climbing the spires of Horizon was also a possibility. Most of the huge towers of stone that the city was built into and on top of were inaccessible in the game. At least if somebody wanted to go wandering off the beaten path. Now, she had that option. She could pick any random alley as a viable path to wander down. She might even get mugged. Her friends might not like that, though.

There was always the Bastion of Light, which surely promised to be an eye-opening experience. Modeled after real triumphs of architecture in her original world, Melia could only wonder what its crenulated towers of chiseled stone and majestic stained-glass windows, all painstakingly set by hand, must look like with her own eyes.

But when talking about man-made wonders of this game-world come to life, none could compare to Eutevor Palace itself. Half an ancient fortification built into the cliff face overlooking the sea, half a miniature city all by itself, its construction defied any common logic. No mere layman could ever have dreamed up the multi-tiered, multi-leveled amalgamation of materials spanning the ground, sea, and air.

It took up two of the mountain-esque mesa-spires littering the Horizon valley all on its own.

Gigantic iron frameworks and metallic trusses jutted out from the sheer rock face like the splintering bones of the planet itself.

Magical and mechanical forces combined to create hulking lifts capable of transporting entire ship cargoes directly from the ocean to several hundred feet into the air.

This was not simply the crowning achievement of humankind, but all of Humanity combined. If one knew where to look, how to look, they could see the fingerprints of dwarves, elves, and gnomes.

Perhaps that was why parts of the castle were open to the public. Surely it was possible, but entirely unreasonable (not to mention inefficient) to run a wall all along the perimeter. Of course, the entire castle was owned by the ruling family, and as such, much of it was private land. That still left plenty of rooms, halls, courtyards, and entire buildings freely available to the common man. It was said that Horizon was two cities in one: those who lived and worked in the city at large, and those who never left the castle. Some for the majority of their lives.

“What do you all think about visiting the castle?” Melia asked. “Back when, you know, before…it was open and people could wander around. Is that still the same?”

“Sure is,” Jessica nodded. “They won’t let you get into any super restricted areas, but some of the kingdom’s most beautiful parks are there.”

“I’ve been to the botanical gardens,” Y’cennia piped in. “The greenhouses have samples of flora from every corner of the continent. I’ve heard that there’s even a cold house for those fragile little flowers from the Tundra up north.”

“I’ve heard one of the queens of old used to keep exotic pets,” Ellesea said. “And that they keep an aquarium, pasture, and dedicated woodland. Some of the finest steeds can be traced back to royal stock.”

“The art galleries are breathtaking,” Alastair chimed in. Everybody looked at him and he shrugged. “If you’re into that sort of thing.”

“So is it settled?” Melia asked, smiling at the round of nods she got in confirmation. “Perfect! Let’s go!”

​

Finding a carriage to take them to the castle was easy, but deciding where to be dropped off was harder than Melia would have thought. The game had 5 entrances…real life had more than 50. It wasn’t as simple as saying “the front gate” either.

Which front gate, specifically? On the waterfront, opening into the royal harbor? On the spire, where official flying mounts could land? In that case, which of the two spires? East or west? How about from “the road?” Even the highway had three entrances: from the Upper Nobles’ District, the Trade District, and the Lower Commons. If there could only be one, the Trade District highway would probably be crowned “main”, since it saw the greatest amount of traffic.

At the very least, the building they stood in front of when they exited the carriage lived up to the title of “palace.” Like every other part of the complex, it was built from the same bleached white stone, and a tall wrought-iron fence, tipped with untarnished copper, ran around it. Blue and white banners flew from tall poles, and a gilded plaque near the gatehouse decried it as “Barthwaite Hold.” What it held, Melia didn’t know, only that it wasn’t prisoners, due to the steady flow of commerce rolling in and out.

Her frame of reference was limited, with the number of famous places she’d visited in her last life being countable on two hands, but it was easily bigger than the old Capitol buildings she’d been taken to on field trips by at least three times. Perhaps more fittingly, this was a building that she couldn’t crush by landing on it in her real form. Probably.

The group waited their turn in line and were quickly processed by a bored guard at the gate. He did a double-take when he saw Melia, which she was slowly getting used to, and she did one when he pulled out a small piece of paper and read them a prepared speech.

“Welcome, gnomish guest,” he said in a mockery of enthusiasm and thespian arts. “The Royal Family does bid you welcome to the fair kingdom of Eutevor. Let it be known that access is granted to our famous galleries of works of art, our museums of antiquities, and our vast displays of [Engineering] marvels, free of charge. Or should you desire nothing more than fresh air, consider exploring one of our tended forests and greenways. We have over 25,000 acres of unworked nature, preserving the beauty of our lands. And,” he paused, as if he doubted what he was reading could really be right, “If you are in need of refreshments, seek out the palace staff, and cookies will be provided.”

The whole group stared at him in disbelief. Alastair’s jaw was slowly falling open and Melia was waiting for somebody to jump out and yell, “Got you!”

Ellesea crinkled her eyes and Jessica gave the man a flat stare.

“Cookies,” she repeated. The man shrugged and stuffed the paper back into a pouch.

“That’s what the note says.”

“And how many times have you had to read that today?”

“How many do you think?” he scoffed. “You see many gnomes running around? I sure don’t. Now get a move on.”

The group did so, but only so they didn’t cause a scene or hold up the line. Once they were inside the gates proper, they scurried out of the way, making sure none of the guards were in line of sight, and huddled together.

“This is a trap,” Jessica frowned, folding her arms and squatting down to look at Melia. “We should leave.”

“Cookies?” Ellesea barked out a harsh laugh. “What sort of game do you think they’re playing at? And what’s this nonsense about reading it out only to gnomish guests? Sounds like a load of rubbish to me. Who in the world would be stupid enough to fall for something like that?”

“But what if they’re really good cookies?” Melia asked absentmindedly. Something strange was happening, and she was certain it had nothing to do with the fishy guard at the gate or his note. As soon as she entered the palace grounds, she started smelling…something. Something incredibly faint, but incredibly alluring. And it wasn’t cookies.

She realized her friends had gone quiet, and she turned from where she was scanning the treeline, only to see all of them staring at her, slack-jawed. Jessica slapped a hand over her face.

“You would be that stupid.”

“Hey,” Melia said defensively. She ran the last few seconds back in her mind and hastily picked up on the conversation. “I’m not saying it isn’t a trap. I’m not even saying it’s a good trap. But look, even if it is, what do you think they could realistically do to me if I did fall for it? Not saying I would,” she hastily added.

“You’re telling me you’d pass up free cookies?” Ellesea asked. “Little Miss ‘Always Hungry’?”

“Maybe?” Melia’s eyes darted to the side. “Okay, no, not if they’re in front of me, but that’s besides the point. The POINT is that if they do catch me, they’ll get much more than they bargained for.”

“But what if that’s their plan?” Alastair asked.

“Really?” Y’cennia tilted her head. “Her, specifically? Don’t you think it’s more likely they want to capture some random gnome off the streets?”

“For what end?” Ellesea asked.

“Aren’t gnomes known for their arcane affinities?” Jessica asked. “Maybe they’re looking for a mad scientist. Or a test subject.”

Y’cennia nodded, but Melia scoffed.

“I think you guys are over-thinking it,” she complained, once again distracted. Now that she’d noticed the smell, she couldn’t get it out of her head. “If somebody is fishing for stray gnomes that nobody’s going to miss if they go missing, that’s even more reason for me to poke my nose around. You ever hear of [Kraken Fishing]?”

“No?” Jessica looked taken aback. “Sounds suicidal.”

“That’s why nobody does it,” Melia nodded like she’d just spouted some profound truth. “I don’t need to worry if I get caught.”

“Oh, are you a kraken now?” Jessica asked. “On top of a dragon?”

Melia rolled her eyes as Ellesea swatted at the [Hunter]. The smell was getting harder to ignore.

“Hey, do any of you guys smell that?” Melia asked. Jessica stopped laughing and narrowed her eyes.

“Does it smell like cookies?”

“Can we drop the cookies?” Melia sighed.

“Don’t drop cookies,” Y’cennia muttered. “That’s wasteful.”

The rest of the group took a deep, steadying breath…and let out a long, slow exhale.

“Other than fresh air?” Jessica asked. “No.”

“I smell a little body odor,” Y’cennia looked close to gagging as she subtly scooted away from Jessica and Alastair.

“In my defense, I’m wearing armor and it’s the middle of summer,” the [Paladin] said, but he added taking a bath to the top of his list of things to do tonight.

“No,” Melia said with a touch of frustration. “Not cookies and not b.o.”

“Then no,” Jessica repeated.

“What does it smell like?” Ellesea asked.

Melia’s nose wrinkled. That was the maddening part; she couldn't really tell. Only that it was enticing, alluring, and present. She shook her head.

“Not sure. Let’s go inside, shall we?”

​

Barthwaite Hold was a hub for commerce inside the castle, though it mostly dealt with liaisons and other officials that Melia didn’t have time or mental capacity to think about. The smell she encountered outside did not grow any stronger inside, but it became more encompassing. Instead of smelling something from far away in a single direction, it felt like it was coming from all around her. Melia couldn’t tell if it was an old smell or a new smell, if it was once something incredibly powerful that left a lasting mark on its surroundings, or maybe if it was something that lay dormant for so long the land itself changed to take on bits of its properties.

Melia couldn’t even tell for sure what kind of smell it was, if it was organic or synthetic, or even if it was a real smell. That was the problem with having two or more brand-new senses she'd never read a user’s manual for: this smell could be magical, for all she knew. She was having the hardest time pinning it down to anything specific because it drew trace details from all of the above. Sometimes it was sweet, like a freshly baked cinnamon roll, while other times it smelled of lavender and peppermint. At yet other times, it smelled like silver and gold, which Melia’s brain was telling her was a physical smell, not a magical smell, and finally, something deep in the recesses of her mind was arguing that the smell was an olfactory manifestation of a memory or concept, which she had no idea what to do with.

The group walked through a display room full of statues and suits of armor. Melia paid attention to precisely none of it. The longer they lingered, the more she became convinced the smell was real, even if she couldn’t place or describe it, or the fact that nobody else smelled a thing.

Melia lost track of all the rooms they walked through, tapping her foot impatiently if they lingered to admire something for longer than her dwindling attention span allowed. At some point, she began steering the group toward where she felt the smell was strongest. In clumps, sometimes, or like little pockets or clouds, as if whatever source created it lingered longer in a specific place.

Every 15 minutes or so she asked everybody if they could pick up the scent, and by the time an hour passed, the group had moved past annoyance at the constant reminder into morbid curiosity and a growing concern.

It was early afternoon, and the group was rubbing their sore, tired legs when they decided to leave the castle for the day. They had explored the galleries and exhibits for several hours, and they had wandered outside into what looked like a well-kept city park; it was easy to forget they had only arrived this morning after a long flight on the back of a gryphon.

They figured they could take a break for a little bit, rest under the shade of some trees, and maybe come back later in a few days before heading back to Lakeridge. Melia, however, was waddling around the nearest tree with her nose stuck up in the air like a deranged bloodhound.

“See? See?” she asked excitedly. “It’s even stronger out here!” she exclaimed.

“No,” Jessica sighed, “I still can’t smell anything. At this point, I almost feel like I’m missing out.”

“We’ve been chasing this smell since we first got here,” Ellesea complained. “We’ve been walking for hours and my feet hurt. After we rest, let’s go find an inn.”

Melia nearly lashed out, demanding to continue searching for the elusive smell until she found it, at all costs. But she stopped herself in time, realizing how…wrong that was. She wasn’t some slave to a mere smell, and since when was she so demanding? She realized her draconic instinct was creeping up on her and something clicked.

“What does it even smell like?” Y’cennia asked. As the member with the most sensitive senses, she thought she might be able to pick up on it, but it was beyond even her skill.

“Sniffff,” Melia took in a deep breath. “It smells…sniff…it smells….”

Cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning. Pine needles on a freshly cut and decorated tree. Wrapped presents, a roaring fire, a turkey in the oven.

Gold. Silver. Rubies, diamonds, emeralds, sapphires. Gems and jewels.

Exotic fabrics, expensive spices, fine works of art that would make everything in the halls they just came from seem like cave paintings.

Traces of magic, both raw and regulated, something palatable and refined.

It smelled of love and longing. Of acceptance and belonging.

And ownership.

Melia was convinced, without a shadow of a doubt, that whatever this smell was from, whatever caused it or made it or brought it into being…belonged to her.

And she would conquer nations to get it back.

“It smells…,” she sniffed once again, drawing in a deep breath that made her eyes spring open wide. She caught a fresh strain of the smell, much stronger and more powerful. And very, very close. She began looking around wildly, but she did not forget the question in her excitement.

“...I can’t really describe the smell to you, if I’m honest,” she said, finally looking up at Jessica in the eye. “It smells like home and your heart and it is possibly the most divine thing that I ever have, or ever will smell again.”

She paused as a bizarre thought popped into her head, but it fit. Oh, it fit so well!

“It smells like princess.”

The entire little clearing they were standing in seemed to freeze. Jessica’s eyes immediately darted to Al’s as they shared a knowing look. Ellesea seemed to grow a shade or two more pale and Y’cennia’s tail paused mid-swing.

“That’s…that’s a joke, right?” Y’cennia asked with a weak chuckle. “A myth? Dragons don’t really go around kidnapping princesses, do they?”

“Even more reason for us to get out of here,” Ellesea hissed. “We do not need to bring that evil down on us.”

“If it’s all the same to you,” a soft, sophisticated voice called out from behind them, “I think I’d prefer it if you stayed.”

​

The group whirled around at the newcomer who somehow managed to sneak up on them. None of [Sunrise] were particularly skilled in detecting hidden enemies, but that didn’t mean they weren’t observant, and there was no way anybody should have been able to simply appear next to them with nobody noticing.

The intruder at their little gathering was an incredibly stunning young woman with a petite build and an aura of frailty about her. She looked to be around the same age as Ellesea, though mercifully taller, standing about Y’cennia’s height minus her tall ears. She had ice-cold deep blue eyes and beautiful, silky-smooth platinum blonde hair that was almost white or silver cascading down her back in voluminous waves.

What set this woman apart from everyone else was her attire. She wore an immaculate cobalt gown that matched her eyes and made her features pop, with a tightly cinched waist and a flaring hoop skirt that gave her a look reminiscent of a handbell. Her arms were adorned with pristine white silk gloves up to her elbows, and she had two rings with large gemstones on each hand. But the real piece that told the group this woman was more than meets the eye was the understated yet commanding presence of an elegant, elaborate mithril tiara, glinting like a beacon on the top of her head.

Her small size was offset by a powerful aura that nearly forced the party to their knees in reverence, and they knew they were in the presence of royalty.

All except for Melia.

The intruder had opened her mouth, presumably to continue some previously rehearsed speech, but she was caught off balance by the sudden transformation of the small gnome. Melia, quite unintentionally, reverted to her dragonkin form, with the tail and the horns, because it sharpened her senses to such a degree that she no longer felt like she was a blind man stumbling about in the darkness.

Melia locked eyes with the woman and the woman froze, the delicate features of her perfect face stuck somewhere between an expression of shock and nervousness. Her eyes had widened, showing off the sapphire blue of her irises, and her mouth was forming the tiniest little “o” between her shimmering, gloss-covered lips.

Melia felt her body acting on its own accord. Not because she was being taken over or possessed by some dormant personality or memory from the past, but because she knew she needed to do something and her old self was never prepared for such an encounter. Seemingly, her current one was. She crept forward slowly, approaching the glorious treasure in front of her, taking small, tentative steps as if the slightest misstep might make it vanish.

The flavor of pink royalty wafted by on the wisp of a breeze, tickling Melia’s nose. She inhaled sharply and deeply…before quickly turning her head to the side and barking out a small cough alongside a mini-gout of flame.

Spiced cinnamon and vanilla frosting.

She quickly snapped her head back to her target to make sure the treasure didn’t vanish. Good…good…she was still there. Melia danced forward daintily on the tips of her toes, her tail dragging along the grass behind her, the very tip flicking nervously left and right. Melia took in the dress.

Pristine, perfect, and impossibly poofy. It had frills, it had a pannier, it was just long enough to brush the ground and tease at the delicate slippers a princess should likely wear. Her eyes rose to the trim waist, the exposed shoulders, and the slender neck. Appealing, like a perfect trophy.

Melia shook her head.

This person was not something to be owned…and yet at the same time…she is mine.

Melia rose up as high as she could stretch and inhaled deeply once more.

The scent of an artfully applied perfume muddled her. It was most likely a subtle, appealing smell, but with her enhanced senses, Melia could pick out the individual ingredients and had trouble sensing them as a blend.

She wouldn’t hold that against her.

Something stirred with the frozen beauty, who had yet to move since Melia began her bizarre inspection dance. Melia caught another scent.

Bubblegum.

Bubblegum…in a world that shouldn’t have bubblegum. But she was getting better at categorizing her various senses, and she could tell this smell was not corporeal. Rather, it was magical. Whatever stirred inside the girl swirled around in a mesmerizing spiral before fracturing into a weblike maze of lattices, producing the most wondrous yet subtle buff she had seen to date. It was a barrier of sorts, which frankly would be useless against Melia, but it would stop all but the strongest of mortal blows or secret spells.

Melia continued to circle the girl, breathing deep and nearly becoming drunk on the intoxicating aroma radiating from her very being. Melia had the nearly irresistible urge to transform back into her real form, pick up the girl oh-so-gently in her claws, and spirit her away to the most secret and secure recesses of her lair. She needed a stronghold, something worthy of this gem, in which she could lavish priceless gifts and uncompromising comforts upon her.

But resist she did.

Melia shook her head like a great big shaggy dog, her horns slashing through the air like the tips of swords, a few more errant flames leaking out of her mouth.

Melia mastered herself and found she was once again standing before the princess, staring up at her longingly.

She knew this woman. This young girl. This precious soul. And she desperately wanted to be known in return.

To be forgotten by such a gem would be a blow to her so great that she did not know if she could recover.

But Melia didn’t know how to put her feelings into words. Especially now that her brain was catching up to her, and the 25-year-old girl she once was warred with the ancient dragon she’d become. How she had essentially seen this living being, a little girl she once told countless stories to, as an object to covet and possess.

She didn’t know how to say: “I’ve missed you, I’m so glad you’re alive.”

She didn’t know how to say: “You’re real, you’re not a character in a game!”

She didn’t know how to say: “Do you want to be my friend?”

Her words fled her and she grew flustered as heat rushed to her cheeks. Not only was the princess a real, living, breathing person, but that meant all those things she’d done and said in her presence must have been real too.

Melia’s whole head felt like it was on fire, but thankfully, it was not. A very last-second moment of indecision warred within her.

She could still flee. She could run, hide, and bury her head and her shame.

But that would mean abandoning her friends, both new and old.

Melia was once weak in body, but she had always been strong in spirit. She squared her shoulders, told herself that she would be fine, that she could work through the awkwardness that would surely come.

She stared up at the elegant young woman in front of her, said nothing…and raised her arms.

The perfect princess unfroze, her icy demeanor melted, and her lower lip trembled. Her breath hitched, she repressed a nearly inaudible sob…and she deigned it worthy to lower herself onto the ground, staining her immaculate dress on the grass, to pull Melia into a loving hug.

They remained that way far longer than should be proper for royalty, but neither of them cared. If [Sunrise] did care, they wisely kept their mouths shut. After several moments, the princess rose, holding Melia in her arms.

The gnome had her head buried in the princess’ shoulder, but the girl did not seem troubled in the least. She turned toward the rest of Melia’s party and gave a dignified tilt of her head.

“My name is Moeldywn Ansillica Paratina de Hestia du Eutevor,” she addressed the gaping youth, “And it seems you’ve met my dragon.”