Chapter Four
[General.]
[…My queen? Is everything alright, I thought you commanded Hive silence for the next four hours?.]
[The plan has… changed.]
[Abort?]
[No! The plan has changed but your role has not. There was a mishap, no time to go into details, but the prisoners escaped and warned the monarch. I managed to incapacitate Celestia, much to my own surprise. The Cocoon squadron is in full effect now. Primary Alpha is still your main goal. No need to play it silent anymore. Secure the Package and wait for the shield to fall, that is your only order.]
[….It will be done my Queen.]
[Good luck my child, I fear we will need all of the Mothers interventions today.]
[Praise the Old Mothers!]
[Yes… Mothers help us all.]
Somewhere in the distant scopes of the time and space.
“Isabella! Isabella where are you hiding!?” A faintly French voice bellowed down the hall.
Isobel jumped up in shock, as she heard the words reverberate through the door, like they had shaken them, then again, from who it came from, they might as well have.
She jumped up out of the black leather office chair covering her mouth before she had a chance to curse at her misfortune. She rushed up to the laptop and slammed the screen down. Panicking, she tried to find a place to hide, luckily she was small, for the most part she was able to blend in or squeeze in almost anywhere. But the office she was currently inside was as bare and bland as the person who owned it. So her options were limited.
She looked at the front of the room by the door. She spotted the coat rack, or more specifically the grey overcoat dangling off it, would make for a good spot.
No, she’ll see my feet.
She rushes to a large chrome coloured metal cabinet, over by the edge of the room and pulled out the cupboard style doors. Her heart pounded in her chest as she scrambles to fit inside. But alas, the thing was too jam packed with files and boxes, to cluttered for even her to fit inside and shut the door properly.
She heard the sounds of heels on the wooden floor, outside the room, the proprietor of the voice was close by, and closing in.
Isobel bit her lip, almost praying for any spot to hide. At last she saw the opening of the desk where the chair slid in. As hiding spots went it was the most overused and unoriginal places to hide. If the owner of the voice had any sense at all, that would be the first place they looked. But if it was that or standing out in the open, she would take the desk.
Almost leaping into the crawl space, Isobel curled herself up, making herself as small as possible.
And just in time, too.
The door flung open slamming against the wall with an enormous thud, as the figure walked in, she could not see her, but she could feel and hear here presence in the room.
Oh no, she’s in one of her moods again.
“Isabella if I find you in misères office again, it will be a week without television young lady.” The woman, Ms Abelian, threatens. She waits for a response from Isobel, but nothing comes of it.
“Must we do this every Monday young lady?” She growls out in frustration. Isobel was certain that that infamous vain in her forehead as about to explode. She was always quick to anger.
Again no response was heard.
“Bien alors!” She bellows, in her native tongue.
Isobel keeps her breathing controlled, eyes perked up, she focuses on every little change and movement around her, waiting for a chance to slip out the door, should the moment present itself.
She hears the cupboard at the side fling open. She gently sighs in relief that she didn’t pick that place.
“Isabella Larvalette, school starts in thirty minutes, if you don’t come out right now... alors aidez-moi!”
Its Lavalette! Isobel defiantly screams in her own mind, she hated being called Larvalette, like some sort of icky bug. Why did the note have to have a spelling mistake on it, surely her biological mother would have at least been more careful with that part.
Ms. Abelian continued the frantic search for a few more minutes, becoming more and more frustrated and worked up with each passing moment, Isobel though that at this point she would be literally frothing at the mouth. She cupped her mouth with her hands to stop herself from giggling at the thought. She didn’t know why she liked to wind her up as much as possible, that French Quebec accent was always more entertaining when it was at its peak octave, even if those feelings of anger and frustration tended to make Isobel a little sick at times.
“Oh when I get my hands on you…Bon sang!” She yelled, near the top of her lungs in her native tongue. A caretaker through and through, she wasn’t going to let Isobel learn a new word that she could use in curse.
Unfortunately Ms. Abelian was new and she did not yet know Isobel was bilingual in that department.
She marches out the door. Slamming it shut in her frustration. Isobel waited for a few seconds and then a few more for good measure, before releasing a breath she did not know she was holding. Slowly she climbs out of the hiding spot. Her joints click as they were able to finally stretch out again. Ears still focused on any noise coming from outside the room.
She breathes a sigh of relief once more wiping the perspiration from her forehead. A impish smile adorned her face as she turns away from the office desk. However in her cocky hubris she turned to quickly, her left hand hits the half empty fizzy pop can she had been nursing since she came in.
She jumps down to catch it but misses it as it crashed to the floor. Hitting the wood and explodes, the sound echos through the room before the splashing of the surgery contents spill everywhere.
“Uh-oh.” She whispered, her hands moving up to her mouth in shock, as she looked up at the door, seeing its handle rattle.
She didn’t even have time to try and hide. She had overestimated Ms Abelians patience. The door swung open. A tall, slender red faced woman stood at the entrance. A small lock of black hair falls from her bun into her left eye obscuring her vision and making the frazzled and panting woman look almost savage and crazy. Though the ragged angry breath might have helped that image a bit.
“Found you!” She yells with a villainous smirk of victory as she takes a slow calculated walk over to her prey. Perversely enjoying seeing Isobel back into the wall. There was no escape this time.
“Ah, M-Ms. Abelian, lovely morning isn’t it?” Isobel weakly joked looking around for anyway to escape, Abelian turned for a second to look at what Isobel was, giving her enough to bolt to the caretakers side racing towards the door.
“Oh no you don’t, Isabella, stop zes right now!”
“Okay everyone school’s about to begin, has everyone got their equipment in the rut sacks, Pens pencils, calculators?”
A bored chorus of “Yes Mr. Smith,” comes from the group of children, as they fight to get their coats and boots on by the main entrance.
Simon rolled his eyes at the response, he had to be strict with the kids from point to point, but it wasn't his fault they had to attend school.
Well technically it was, but if it was that or face some very awkward questions from a government representative as to why he felt having the children like him more was better for them than their education, well it was safe to say he would rather play the bad guy for the mornings.
The myriad of children of different ages and ethnicities began to make their way over towards the door, leaving their home once more to brave the horrors of government funded educational facilities.
“Okay then, let’s do a head count one more time.” He stated, as he reached out to grab the register by his side, the children seeing this got into a practiced formation line by line.
“Touchet?”
“Here.”
“Pacquet?”
“Oui Monsieur Smith.”
“Curie?”
“ Oui.”
“Patrice?”
“Hell yeah I’m here!” The taller pre-teen yells in an overly masculine manner, as the other children in his vicinity start giggling.
“Hey, language Patrice!” Mr Smith calls out to trying to quell the giggling of the other children, it’s always the older ones, He mumbles in his mind, rolling his eyes once more.
“Larvalette?”
The class giggled again, this time at the name.
Mr. Smith gives them all a glare, one any good parental figure could do to silently tell off his charge.
“Larvalette, speak up please?”
“Its Lavalette!” A defiant squeaky, tomboyish voice behind him calls out behind Smith. The surprise of it almost makes Simon drop his clipboard as he turned quickly only to see the grumpy child, being escorted by his newest college, who looked at her wits end.
The skinny little girl stood with her chin up in defiance, flicking back a lock of thick straight black hair with her darker tan skinned finger, and throwing it over her shoulder. She was wearing her thick white ski coat and a plain blank black T-shirt that was far too big for her. Her outfit was the exact opposite to Abelians business like suit and trousers. She instead wore a set tight blue jeans with a rip on one of her kneecaps, and small holes on the bottom of the legs as well, clearly showing her orange trainers. The rip on the knee cap and bottom of the legs were a self-made design he imagined. He was pretty sure he did not buy them pre-ripped. They didn’t have the budget for such superfluous fashion statements like that.
He gives them both a up and down look, before rolling his eyes again trying not to crack a smile.
Of course.
Smith continues the roll call, ticking off the names of all the children before finally letting them leave. “Okay everyone wait outside for me, I just have to have a few words with Isobel before we go.”
“Bug girls going to get a squishing for that one.” One of the girls whispers to her friend before breaking into giggles.
“Madore, you just got yourself grounded young lady, two day.”
“What? No fair!”
“Should have thought of that before you opened your mouth.”
“And all of you, stick to the garden, anyone on the other side of the gate when I get out will get the same treatment as Madore. Understand?”
Most of the children don’t even finish the obligatory “Yes Mr/Monsieur Smith” before rushing out to play in the snow, for any chance they could get to have one last bit of fun before school.
Smith sighed, as he looked down at Isobel, who was looking directly up at him with a sullen pout.
“Sarah, go look after the children, while I talk to Isobel.”
Abelian look puzzled by the command. “Shouldn’t I wait to report zes to Monsieur Dixon?”
Smith turned from Abelian back to look at Isobel again, who folded her arms, grumbling to herself as she looked away.
Simon stroked the stubble on his chin in thought, “I don’t think that will be necessary.”
Abelian jaw dropped as she let her arms drop to her sides before enthusiastically flailing them in the air, “But Simon I—”
“Sarah, the children.” He declared, in an almost sing-song way, as he knelt down to look the little girl in the eyes and simultaneously to indicate that this conversation was over.
Abelian gargled out an angry growl at the dismissal by Smith, but said no more. Turning on her heel, she stormed out of the room and into the front garden. She was a good staff member and great with the children, being orphaned herself she was fantastically empathetic to the children in ways Smith simply couldn’t be on that personal level, having grown up in a troubled yet stable family, he just didn’t have the same life experience, and never would. But, Abelian had too much to prove and that sometimes meant she was far too easily wound up. Perhaps it was a by-product of her past, but she didn’t quite understand authority even to this day.
He shook his head as he turned to the little demure girl.
“So, what did you do to get her this angry this time Bella.” He stated calmly, in his thick English accent. The neutrality of it made it far too easy for him to mask his feelings in any situation, the cadence in it always seemed to imply he knew the answer before he asked it.
Isobel grumbled again under her breath, she hated it when he talked like that to her, it wasn't so much demeaning, but it was no less annoying.
Though as much as she hated the notion, Isobel incidentally loved the accent, any deviation from her boring almost normal life was welcomed with open arms. She was practically sick of the Quebec accent, it was boring and condescending, though that might just have been the people in her life. But as much as she liked his dialect, she also hated it, especially when he used it in the form of accusation, like he was doing now.
“It wasn’t my fault, I was trying to watch —” She bit her lip before it spilled out.
Simon continued his knowing stare waiting for her to continue.
“--It only had like five minutes left!” She beseeched her parental figure, with a hint of a blush on her cheeks, the corners of Simson mouth flicked into a tight smile.
Works every time.
“What did?” He stated, further coaxing the information out of the little girl.
“What did what?” She asked childishly looking down at her shoes.
He gave her a deadpan glare, she didn’t see it but he knew she felt it. “Bella, what had five minutes left?”
“I-I don’t know.” She lied shuffling a foot onto the floor as she looked away to the side, focusing on the mundane notice board to the side of the room, hoping in a futile way he would simply drop the subject.
“Isobel, come on now, what had five minutes.” He stated letting a creeping tone of a disciplinarian seep into his voice, and it made her cringe uncontrollably. She didn’t mind when others talked to her with that cadence, she could brush it off over time, but she never liked it coming from Smith, it made her stomach churn. And when he broke away from her nickname that’s when she knew she was starting to get on his nerves.
“Game of Thrones.” She mumbled out.
Simon almost reeled back at that, he was expecting something a bit more childish but as he remembered who he was talking to, he realised that of course that was never going to be the case.“Young lady, you know you’re not allowed to watch that show, it’s for adults. Good lord, it’s far too violent for you!”
Isobel shot her gaze back up to Simons with that trademark pout. “Is not! I like it, it’s smart, it makes me think. Not like those cartoon stuff all the other kids watch, and besides the library doesn’t have the books so I have to watch it.”
“Young Lady, you are ten years old, that show is for adults. Intellectually stimulating or not, it is not for you. You know we could all get into a lot of trouble if Mr. Dixon found out we let you watch that show!” He was practically yelling at this point, pointing his index finger at her, to hammer the point home.
She wanted to keep arguing but that thought of getting Simon into trouble hit her in a way she didn’t like at all. “Well, about that…”
That stopped Simons oncoming tirade “Well, about what?”
“I might have kinda’, sorta’ watched it on his Laptop, just a little…”
“Isobel!” He screeched this time actually reeling backwards in shock.
“W-what? I do it all the time, I always delete the history, but Ms Abelian took me away before I could!”
He looked back making sure that nobody was around before whispering quietly but harshly “Young Lady that’s not the point and you know it, don’t try and blame this on someone else.”
“But.” Was all Isobel could argue.
“You could get into serious trouble.”
Isobel stamped her foot down in her rage, the sound of the boots hitting the wood sent echos down the empty halls “I don’t care about Misère Dixon or Madam Abelian, They don’t care about me, So what if I get detention, or they kick me out. It’s not like that would be anything new anyway!” She thundered out, now fully entrenched in her anger, her cheeks ablaze and her breath ragged, hot with the emotional baggage of the words.
Simon paused letting the moment lapse into silence for a moment, as he waited for Isobel to calm herself down. He cared for her, he truly did, but it was hard when she didn’t care for herself. “Bella, I know you don’t much care for the other, and there’s no point trying to beseech you to understand your own consequences.But think of me at least? I could lose my job if this got out, not to mention you would be in so much trouble, you don’t want me to go away do you?”
“N-No of course not!” She panicky exclaimed, the red from her face changed quickly to that of pale white, she would hate that worse than anything. Smith was the only one she ever trusted, she ever felt close to, she felt like he treated her special not just another abandoned child going through the system. Deep inside she even loved him, like a father, and deep inside she sort of knew he felt the same though, she did not know how, she just felt that.
Isobel began to tear up at the prospect, she was far smarter for her age than she should have been, but she still had the emotions of her age and somewhere in the recesses of her mind she actually came to realise she had just done a very bad thing, if Smith got fired she honestly didn’t know what she would do.
“I-I’m sorry Mr. Smith.” She babbled, hiccuping through the tears.
Smith winced as he saw her tears, he had to be tough with the kids sometimes, he was pretty much the only form of a father figure most of them would ever get, and whilst his weakness was not so much the tears, he could deal with that should he have to. The use of his last name, especially uttered like that, was however his Achilles heel. “Ah, don’t go for the cheap shot on me Bella you know it always works.” He stated with a semi mocking yet still warm smile, as he wrapped her into a tight embrace, letting her cry out her pent up emotions as they gushed out.
“There there Bella. It’s not as bad as that, maybe I over played it a bit.” Simon admitted feeling a tad guilty after resorting to the big guns, for something not so severe, but she needed things like this, she wasn't an unruly child. But she was far to fond of testing everyone's limits.
Isobel hiccuped a few times more, she felt the warmth and strength of the emotions seeping though the hug from Smith, she always felt better after those hugs, and this was no different.
Simon felt Isobel tighten the hug, as she began to breathe more regularly. “I’m only trying to help you, it’s not easy, you’re a very bright little girl, but you need to know your limits. You can’t keep poking at trouble all the time and not expect any consequences in return.”
“I-I know.” She mumbled letting the tears dry up on her cheek as she nuzzled into his thick woolen overcoat.
They stayed like that for a few more seconds until Isobel finally got a hold of her emotions, sniffing her last, she leaned back and exited the hug.
“There now, all better?”
She nodded.
“Good, because you’re still in big trouble, don’t think you’re getting off lightly for this.” He humorously scolded, as he lightly poked her left shoulder.
“Ahhh,” she moaned, hoping slightly that he somehow might have forgotten.
“Now go outside while I delete his internet history.” He commanded, groaning as he stood up and felt the pins and needles that had built up in his legs from the squatting position. She walked past him, slouching as she made her way to the exit. He couldn’t help himself however and before she made her way out he blurted out the question.
“Oh, and Bella?”
“Yes Simon.” She stated, looking over her shoulder.
Despite the fact that he knew the building was effectively empty, he still felt the need to look both ways before he spoke in a hushed tone. “Is it any good, the new episode I mean.”
Isobel giggled, nodding feverishly as she turned back around. “It’s Awesome! there's this bit where--”
“Ah ah ah no spoilers little lady, I’m still on the last season.”
“Catch up then slow poke.” She giggled, as she blew raspberry at him and ran out of the room into the snow white tundra.
Simon chuckled, as he shook his head and made his way towards the office. Just before he went into his boss's room, he turned into his own. On the desk was his brown leather satchel bag. He snatched it up, as he turned to leave but not before he spotted a similar leather brown medical kit at the side of his office desk.
Simon slapped his head with his hand, how could I forget. He unzips the fabric and examined the contents as it folded out. Two large EpiPens were slotted into one of the pouches though a leather loop that kept them in place. He inspected them closely, flicking one with his middle finger, before be zipped the medical bag closed and placed it in his bag.
He felt a bit ashamed that he almost left without something so vital.
If he had forgotten and Isobel was having one of her episodes. Well, her watching an adult show would be the least of their worries.
[My Queen, we have come into a problem]
[Speak General]
[The six mares, the Elements, are making their way back into the castle, they have taken out the worker drones in section six and are fast approaching. Based off recon team Gammas intel they won’t be far off.]
[General, before I ask the obvious question of why you haven’t eradicated them already, why do you have worker drones engaged in military combat, they are not fit for fighting, where are the Bulls!?]
[I’m sorry my Queen, all available forces are engaged in the street and the majority of our elite are in the gardens, there were no units in the direct vicinity to contain or destroy them.]
[Well send some of them from the gardens to reinforce section six, General. I know they are Element carriers but they are only six mares for the old Mother's sake! I don't see why you feel the need for me to tell you this!]
[That’s just it my Queen, A large section of the Luna guards are attacking from the castle back entrance via the gardens east side, all forces are engaged in the gardens, I cannot risk pulling out a single Bull.]
[….Luna guard? General why are the night guard active! I had the spell wards plastered all over their barracks for the specific purpose of keeping them out of the fight!]
[We don’t know, all we know for certain is that apparently one of the squads in the castle entered the wrong wing in pursuit of some castle staff. If my assumption is correct… the only conclusion is that they awoke our enemy's fail safe.]
A large explosion erupted in the distance.
Luna. Chrysalis could tell immediately.
[Your orders my Queen?]
[Ash damn it! Hold the line, I will spare as much of the reserve forces that I can give, without compromising our escape plan, do not fall back without the package. Whatever happens the Statue is the number one priority. Understand.]
[I don’t know what will happen once the Princess reaches the gardens my Queen. But I will try and I will die if I have to to take the statue is secure.]
[Don’t worry about the morbid General, I won’t let that happen… Just, focus on holding the line, it won't be long now.]
Chrysalis detested lying to her children, but it was better than letting them do something foolhardy and suicidal.
[Yes my Queen, oh ash, somethings—]
[General?… General Spring Azure? Answer me!]
[….]
Isobel sighed, as she slumps down on her desk, tapping her finger in rhythm on the wooden worn table. She peered over her folded arms gazing around the room in complete boredom, as the teacher droned on and on about the importance of Algebra. Someone from her class had made a backhanded comment about what the point would be in life to use such a pointless system, and that, if the teacher wanted to use letters instead of numbers she should just be a English teacher instead.
Twenty minutes later and her teacher was still droning on about the importance of the topic in everyday functions of life and society. It didn’t help that she had already completed her handout sheet and checked it twice out of sheer boredom. If she asked for more work she would be called a nerd or obsédé, and if she stayed silent she would only end up falling asleep. It was a catch twenty two as the Americans liked to say.
Isobel yawned, her body was beginning to grow sluggish and she found that her eyes could stay open no more. She looked around at her class, of course anyone she could even entertain the notion of talking to was at least two rows equivalent away from her at all sides.
Most of the class was drawing in their books, chatting and passing notes, or simply stared dumbly at the wall behind the teacher, probably praying like Isobel for some relief from this purgatory.
She yawned again, as she tried to fight sleep. But every time she shot her eyes open, they would fall even quicker than before and before she knew it she was asleep.
Isobel boisterously screamed in delight as she soared into the sky. The smell of the fresh air and the wind rippling through her hair made her heart swore.
She did a spin in the air and then a loop just for the flair of it. Spotting a cloud next to her she turned, wondering if she could make a perfect indent of her own body.
Swooping down she picked up speed, letting her soft fluffy wings folded into her back as she nose dived into it.
The cold air felt alive and exhilarating she was freezing and the cold air brought reactionary tears to her eyes, but she found she could not care. And despite the protest of the howling cacophonous sounds of the winds, she sped up ,flapping her wings with all her might.
She zipped past a few birds, large and small and in all shapes and sizes. From flocks of multi-coloured parrots, to enormous proud eagles and even a barn owl or two she noticed as she flew past them all. After circling a few of them they immediately gave chase in a playful game of tag racing after her. She laughed aloud as they tried in vain to keep up with her. She was to fast for them. Nothing could reach her up here, nothing would ever touch her in the sky.
The cloud was getting closer now, every second it's fluffy outline was getting more detailed, its rippling wave of mist contorting and flowing into the air. Like the movements of the calm ocean, like waves that shape themselves and go.
The noises of the birds grew louder as they squawked, cooed and hooted at her but that only made her want to go faster. He liked the chase, it was exhilarating to know you could win at something no human could do. Mocking mother nature herself, for creating a beast of flight only to lose to a sickly little girl from Canada, it was funny to her at least.
She extends her arms ready to punch the clouds head on, to be absorbed and cleaned by its watery mists.
But then the cloud changed.
Its mists hardened and formed into something different, something less pure. It swilled and became more orderly, its definition more clear with each second. It formed into the shape of something, a creature? She wasn’t sure she what she was seeing.
The noises of the birds became more hysterical, she turned back when the noises became more distant to her. They were still flying but this time it was a panicked desperate fashion to flee from. Was it from the cloud, or was it her?
She turns back again and gasped in horror. Two eyes, giant green eyes. malicious in their content, they stared back at her no pupils adorn them save for two black reptilian slits like crocodiles, they narrow like a closing book as they link up with Isobel's gaze.
She screams, lifting her wings back up to her sides, but much to her dismay they were gone. She looked back at them, in there place where two sickly, slime ridden teal appendages. She would call them wings, but such a name was to pretty for what they truly were. They should have been on flies or some type of mosquito, anything but on her.
The wings offer no resistance and try as she might her fall does not slowed down, she was doing everything in her power even trying to paddle her way back up. Much to her dismay the wings neither stopped her fall nor slowed it, they were so alien to her that she had no concept of how to use them and she was too scared to find any logic in figuring them out.
She turned to look back down again and once more screams, the eyes were now closer to her but that was not the subject of her horror anymore.
It was its mouth. The enormous back jaws darker than any abyss and she could do nothing to stop its approach.
Two fangs like pearl daggers advertised to her. They promised death or untold unspeakable horror. A forked tongue slide out of its mouth tasting the air, begging for her to fall into so it wrap around her and constrict her small fragile body.
Isobel couldn’t take her eyes off the creature's gaze it was only when it spoke that she snapped out of her trance.
[Larvalette.] It hissed.
She heard her name, her hated name in the deep recesses of her mind, the jaws of the creature stay open, yet nothing moves, but somehow in some way she heard it worming its way into her thoughts, so very clearly she heard it. She could do nothing to stop its distorted almost muffled voice. The feminine touch of the things voice only adds to the fear she had for it. Something so ugly, so malicious and so…so….
Familiar.
[Larvalette come back, wake up my child.]
Despite her terror, she yells at the thing.
“Stay away from me!”
[Larvalette come back, come back to me, Wake up Larvalette wake up.]
“No no stay away somebody anybody help me!”
[Wake up, please wake up!] the creatures bellows in her mind.
She falls into the creautres jaws her harroed screams echo all around her until the behemoths maw slams shut engulfing her into a world of blackness
“Wake up.” another voice joins in
“Larvalette, Isobel wake up, wake up please!” A masculine voice yells at her frantically, his voice thick with fear and consternation.
Isobel groaned, feeling sickly and lightheaded, her stomach and mind fired up with thunderous pain.
She wants it to stop immediately, go back to sleep and be done with it, but the pain keeps her awake.
One of her eyelids is forced open and a blinding light is shoved up by her retinas. She cringes trying to bat the intrusion away. As soon as she does the hand flinches back, allowing her to blink away the water now built up in the rims of her eyelids.
“Wha?” She weakly forced out the words.
“Oh Dieu merci!” Another voice calls out.
“Wha- where am I?”
A thick set of arms clasp around her tightly pulling her into a hug, she still feels disorientated by the feeling of its relief and joy. The emotions almost immediately made her feel better in mere moments, and her addled mind slowly recuperates from its fog.
“You had me so worried, Bella.”
“S-Simon? What happened.” She mumbles out moving her head away from his shoulder. Simon releases his hug, but keeps a hand on her shoulder to steady her balance, she feels his electrifying emotions increase she rubs her eyes and balances her inner bearings.
She recognises the room instantly, the sterilized feel of it, the smell of cleansing chemicals and posters of anatomy and health warning. She was in the schools matons offices, a place she was very familiar with.
“One of the maths teachers carried you to my office.” Another voice explains, next to the foot of the her bed. “You were passed out mumbling gibberish. He said you fell from your chair and after a moment started screaming at the top of your lungs. You gave ole Mr. Joseph quite the scare so I’m informed.”
She turns to the other voice that answered. It was Calum, the school matron, a man she was almost as familiar with as Simon. She almost didn’t recognise him though, his usual countenance was always one of a warm unflinching smile. She had never seen a man as happy as him. So when his face was twisted into a worried frown and his forehead crinkled in contemplation she knew that even he had thought this was something terribly wrong. For a normal matron that would be an obvious statement. But Calum had served in the first Gulf war as a medic and so not much could get to him in his old age.
“I-I did?”
He nods sagely. “Yes you did.” He scratches the white stubble that contrasts to his black skin in deep thought. “It’s not the worst thing, you seem okay, after we gave you your insulin shot. But then again, this is no normal reaction for a diabetic to have, in fact it’s more akin to an epileptic seizure.”
“She does have a very rare condition Calum.” Simon quipped back, still holding Isobel's shoulder like she would dematerialise into nothing if he let go.
“Give me credit Simon, I’m old, not senile.” Calum smiled back at Isobel, but it was forced, she could feel it.
“I know of Issys condition, Hypersensitive autoimmune disease, probably the worst case in recorded history, something to the effect of a Type zero diabetes, if it were ever to be given a name, I’ve read her records many times Simon.”
Isobel frowned at that. She knew she had something bad about her, even at an early age she had been a very sick child, always weak and never able to eat more than a few scraps of food at a time. She had come close to dying on more than one occasion, it was part of the reason she was never adopted. Who would want a child that at any minute could drop dead?
Most doctors still did not know what was wrong with her. Diabetes was just the only logical conclusion they had for why her body was lacking whatever substance it needed to survive, and why she reacted so poorly to foods. The theory was true, to a degree. She felt better with each injection Simon gave her, she was not comfortable with anyone else doing it to her and she was too young to do it herself. But she still had to come back every five hours for another Insulin shot. Thankfully Simon was always there for her.
Simon wiped a bead of sweat from his brow fixing Calum a panicked look. “I gave her her shot this morning Calum, I swear it!”
“I believe you Simon, you’ve never missed a day in your life. Her standing here can attest to that. Something else must have triggered this, I suppose ‘fit’, is the best layman's terms description for it without getting too esoteric for you both.” Calum calmly stated, using his fingers for quotation marks.
Simon reached over and rubbed her shoulders sympathetically. “Bella, did you perhaps eat or drink anything you shouldn’t have this morning?”
Isobel looked deep into his eyes, before she bit her lip and looked away.
“Bella sweetie, you’re not in any trouble. But Calum needs to know what it was you ingested, just for your safety.”
“I-I guess I had a can of coke, it was on Mr Dixon’s desk and I was thirsty.” It was actually inside of his desk draw, but Isobel felt it best if she left that part out.
Simon sighed more in relief than disappointment, as he stood up and folded his arms staring tiredly at Calum who lent back in his chair. If it wasn’t so life threatening the both might have chuckled at the trouble making child for such a petty crime.
Isobel bit her lip harder. “I’m sorry, I was just thirst and I didn’t want to pause the episode, I only took a few gulps, I’m sorry.”
“Its...Its fine Bella, just, please be more careful in the future, I couldn’t stand to think of what I would do if something like this happened again.”
Simon turned to the school Matron. “Calum, could this have caused the fit?”
Calum thought for a moment as he scratched the thick stubble on his cheeks once more in thought, he gazes at the blank wall for a few uncomfortable seconds in silence. “I suppose so, it doesn’t fit the type level. But then again Bell’s been known to cross those different types before. If this was anyone else I’d say no, but…” He stops pondering it once more.
Hints of confusion, worry and deep regret crawl from Calum into Isobel and she felt ill again. She liked Calum. Not quite like she liked Simon, but almost as much, so to make him feel like this just because she wanted to drink something fizzy and sweet.
She felt ashamed of herself.
“Well the good news is you’re okay, that’s all that matters and I suppose if anything is to be gained from this awful event it’s that you can learn from your mistakes.” Simon states cutting through the awkward silence.
“Yes, sounds about right. I think it would be best if Issy took the day off, some R&R is the best I can subscribe to her at the moment.” Calum prescribed, offering Isobel a mischievous wink, at letting her get the day off.
She smiles ever so slightly at the old man.
“Sounds about right, I’ll come back and collect her homework when I pick up the other kids. Thanks again Calum, do I need to sign her out or?”
“No no I’ll take care of that you both just head back home.”
“Thank you Calum” Isobel yawned back, wearily sliding off the bed and balancing herself on Simon's arm.
“Anything for a beautiful young lady like yourself, and you to Bella.” He jested earning a small giggle from Isobel as she saw Simon roll his eyes at the joke at his expense. She feels happiness in him though, just a bit. She internally feels happy about that. But she couldn’t do much to get her out of her own stupor, as she was starting to rationalise what had just happened.
She didn’t remember much of anything save for some sort of glowing eyes staring into her.
She shivers a bit at the memory. What did they mean. She had never had this type of reaction before, She had had some bad reactions to things and foods. And she felt sometimes almost to weak to really get out of bed. But it was all trivial compared to this. And for the first time in her life, she was scared. For the first time in a long time, she had to contemplate something no child should ever have to think about at her age.
Her own mortality.
Sarah Abelian paced around the front office, she looked for the correct folder, she had just placed the thing by her side a moment ago, but now it had seemingly sprouted legs and wandered off… again. She groaned in annoyance, she was tired, she had spent the whole morning storming through the left wing of the orphanage looking for that little troublemaker. She didn’t even have time for her morning coffee and now the exhaustion was finally catching up to her.
She didn’t even get the chance to brew one, almost as soon as her and Simon had returned from the school no less than three new couples had been waiting by the door for the orphanage to re-open. Three didn’t sound like much and it definitely was not what Abelian would call one of her busiest days. But adoption was a long and painfully slow process, the enormous, yet necessary, red tape behind the forms and interviews took days, sometimes even weeks to work through, and with there staff down to a skeleton crew they were hard pressed for free time.
Staff members at an Orphanage was not the most attractive job on the market. The hours were almost horrendous, it was emotionally and physically draining. and if Abelian was being kind, she would say the wages were fucking shit.
Abelian rested her head on the table, slumping her whole body down. Waiting to be reunited with her secret lover sleep and what a beautiful lover it was. The only lover that she actually had at this present time. Though even that relationship felt like more of a long distance one based on the amount of times these past few months she had rested in its gentle embrace.
She jolted herself up, slapping her face softly. She had work to do. The children came first! That was always her underlying motto her unsung hym. She had nothing but the utmost need to follow that rule. She was not going to be like her old orphanage staff, those lazy bastards could rot in hell for all she cared.
“Laisser Voir…” She sighed, as she flicked open a folder. This couple seemed fine based on the brief interaction. she thought idly. Then again they always did, how many of them thought they could handle the children only for the children to return back to the orphanage a few months later She had almost lost count. It was hard enough to deal with one’s own children. But with the emotional problems her young charge had been though at such an early age, the unchecked hubris of most couples were often unfounded.
In her experience in, and working for, an orphanage she came to realise that most tried, but often times failed all the same.
Such a shame. They deserved better. Even Isabella. That little she-devil. Abelian thought mournfully, she then chuckled only at the thought of the girl. Perhaps what got on her nerves the most was that Isobel was too much like herself back in her youth. It was probably true, but she didn’t like thinking too much about those days. Those were darker days and even though Isobel was an annoying pain in her ass. That little girl was much nicer than Abelian ever was in her youth. She gave the the little demon that much credit.
She read the folder in her hands “Doctors, both of them? Interesting.” She mumbled aloud as she skims through the relevant information on the application form, plus the transcribes and comments from the brief interview Dixon had orchestrated “Good pay, nice side of town too, but will they have the time. Certainly they would have the patience.” She stopped to giggle at the accidental pun. “Would they be able to deal with the stress both at work and then at home though?”
Not to mention there prestige, just because someone is important and rich doesn’t mean they could look after a child. And it appears that they want three? Hmm that seems like a very uncertain idea. I mean what if they only get along with one of the children, or the children don’t get along with one another… hmm then again, it could always work out for the best. Who knows? Have to wait for the meet and greet, I guess.
“Hmm.” She was about to inspect the paper more thoroughly when she heard the door to the Orphanage rattle and open.
She stood up at attention and straightened out her little blazer as she adorned her best welcoming smile.
“Bonjour. Bienvenue a Orphanage de… Isabella? What are you doing here young lady, you should be in school, don’t tell me you—
“Relax Sarah, she’s with me.” Simon stated, trying to placate the oncoming tirade from his co-worker, as he stepped in after Isobel, who was kicking off her thick boots off accidentally covering the floor with thick freshly fallen snow.
Abelians posture sank back to her normal tomboyish mannerisms as she walked around the table towards them.
“Simon? Whats going on here, what did Isabella do zes time?” She stated suspiciously eyeing the girl with a raised brow. Isobel simply looked up at her with an angry pout.
“Nothing, get off my back and leave me alone Ms Abelame!” Isobel yelled out, as she stormed past Abelian towards her bedroom.
Abelian gasped putting both hands on her hips. “Comment oses-tu! Get back here Isabella, I am your elder and you—”
“Isobel, now you know that’s not nice.” Simon finished before Abelian could get started on another tirade. He tiredly picked up her coat off the floor hooking it up on one of the many coat hooks near the entrance of the Orphanage.
“Sorry Sarah, Bella’s not feeling well, she had one of her, ‘Episodes’ today a pretty nasty one to, I think she's just tired. Its was, it was pretty stressful on all sides.”
And just like that all of Abelian anger dissipated like the morning fog. Her hands fell from her waist and she snapped her gaze back to Simon.
“Quoi!? Is she well? We should call the hospital!” she yelled in a frantic tone.
“Relax , Calum already did that, they said the best thing to do was get her some food and let her rest. They can’t do any more than that for her at the hospital, I’ve already given her the shots, there's no point unless she gets any worse.”
Abelian bit her lip, before sighing. “That girl, she will be the death of me.”
Simon smiled, it was forced but it was the intention that mattered. “Not before she kills me first. Don’t worry, why don’t you go get her something to eat, get yourself a coffee while you’re at it, you look like hell froze over.”
Sarah looked playfully shocked at the comment “Hell? Simon you should know I always look like an angel sent by the heavens.” She giggled. “Though the coffee would have been nice a moment ago,now I feel like I have drunk ten, no matter merci Simon, but I think you should do it. I still have files to attend to.”
Simon nodded. “Sure, I see what you mean, but when I get back we're having a coffee.”
Aelain chuckled lightly touching his chest provocatively. “Misure Simon, if you are asking me out on a date you should be more tactful.”
Simon flushed red but quickly collected himself. “Dancing around the issue is as the French put it best clichéd, I prefer the direct approach.”
This time Abelian blushed and Simon chuckled. “Haha coffee it is then monsieur.”
[What is happening out there, any Ling from Infiltrator squad, I demand an answer!]
[Sorry my Queen, I--]
[Infiltrator Chitan, what is going on, where is your General]
[Don’t know my Queen, he was separated from the bulk of the force, we are hunkered down at the west end, the enemy is putting up an
extremely tough fight, we are losing ground Ling by Ling.]
[He’s not responding to the Hive link? I can’t feel him is he unconscious?]
[I don’t know my Queen… one second]
[Sorry my queen, it's bedlam out there.]
[No time for pleasantries, I have almost secured the Palace it will be all ours in a matter moments, If the General is dead, then I am officially promoting you as the new head of Infiltration]
She felt a ping of guilt and sorrow in her heart but pushed it down, now was not the time for such things.
[T-thank you my Queen!]
[I told you no time for pleasantries! Get to the package I want it by Canterlots western edge as soon as possible, The cocoon squad should be finishing up now, we shall rendezvous with one another there.]
[It will be done.]
[I know it will just make sure…Ash and sand! Those mares are back, I'll deal with them personally, get it done general!]
Isobel was down by her bed, she found it weird not hearing the running or playing or snoring that the room was usually full of. She could safely say that the number of times she was in the room truly alone in these ten years, could be counted on two hands. It would only be an hour before all the children came back but it was still nice to be alone for once. Luckily, being in the Orphanage for so long, she was afforded one of the semi shared rooms, not like the big hall that most of the kids had to use.
She even had top bunk, it was the little things that mattered after all.
Try as she might she found sleep was there, but she didn’t want to embrace it quite yet, today had left her with too much to think about. True this type of thing had happened before to a much less severe extent, but still this was the only time she had really thought about it.
It was the first time she had truly pondered her own mortality. It scared her more than she cared to admit. She felt like she ought-to-be tougher than that, but she was just a child at the end of the day.
She thought back to the conversation she had a few hours ago with Simon.
Knock knock
“Bella, you asleep in there?”
“No.”
Why do people do that, even if I was asleep the knocking would wake me anyway?
She clutches her pillow to her chest sitting upright on the top of the bed, it wasn’t her one it was Abby’s bed but she didn’t have the effort to climb up to her own at this time, she knew Simon would be in to talk to her as well. So she killed two birds with one stone.
The door opens awkwardly as Simon fumbles with the heavy wood whilst he balanced a tray in his other hand. He gives her another forced smile, as he makes his way to her side.
“I have your favorite, chicken soup.” He almost sang.
“It’s not my favourite, I like Tomato soup, you’re only saying that because that was all the cafeteria had left.” Isobel quipped back.
His forced smile fell to a more natural smirk. “Smart girl, well it’s not going to kill you anyway so you should eat up.” Simon stated, simultaneously kicking himself for the use of wording, as he lifted the tray over to Isobel, who simply put it by her side on the floor.
“Bella, come on now, you need to get your strength up, you’ve had a very trying day.”
Isobel let the hair fall in front of her face, as a single tear fell from her face, she looked up at Simon, who gave her a quizzical stare. For a while she just continued to glare at him almost beseeching him to say what she was thinking, to know what it was that was at the forefront of her mind. God willing she was not able to say it herself.
“Come here Bella.” He states pulling her into another hug, she doesn’t resist, she lets herself fall into his grips once more basking in its warmth.
“Shh shh it’s okay issy, just let it all out.”
“A-am I going to die.” The words come out before she could even process them. She didn’t know what had possessed her to say what she thought she could not. But now that she had said them, she immediately wanted them back, to recant them.
She felt Simons whole body stiffen as the sentence was said. His reassuring back rub stopped awkwardly and he pulls himself away.
“I-I, no, of course not, You…” He stopped himself, how could he answer that, he couldn’t just blatantly lie to the girl, not after what had just happened. She was to clever for that.
“I-It’s not the dying that scares me.” She states bringing the pillow back to her chest. “I sorta knew that for a while, I just, I never had a mom, or a dad. I don’t even know if I want one but, all my life here was about finding one, I-I just want to know what it’s like, before I…go.”
“You will Bella, I’m sure of it, this might sound like I’m just saying this. But anyone would be blessed to have you as their daughter. If you were mine I’d boast about it to just about everyone I could until there ears bleed.”
There was a long pause, then Isobel spoke “Would you?” it was almost a whisper.
“Would I what?”
“Would you…be my...dad?” She asked, as she turned to him, but was unable to look at him directly, she stares through her thick hair.
He pauses and goes pale, like he had just seen a ghost or something worse. “Bella, I-I can’t, I-I wouldn’t even know where to start explaining why that would be a bad Idea.”
She looks away biting her lip. “I know it’s stupid of me.”
“No, it’s just, Bella I live alone, who would look after you while I worked, I barely earn enough to pay the bills and all of my spare money goes on you lot. I-It wouldn’t be fair to you.” he beseeched as earnestly and as honestly as he could convey.
She leans against him again, eyes on the floor she lets the tears dry up from her face as she squeezed the pillow even harder than before.
“I-I get it, but…
“But what?” He dreaded to ask.
“Could we at least pretend, even just for today, could I call you Dad, just so I can say I have?”
Simon opens his mouth a few times, but words fail him, perhaps he should have got out more seen the world talked about issues with people and developed a more well rounded understanding about the human soul. But he didn’t, he spent most of his life avoiding his fellow man and moved to Canada to escape those people on a whim. This had been the only place that was hiring at the time, and in all those years this had been the only place he had developed an understanding of the human soul. But even now he couldn't answer what she had just said, perhaps no one could, would it be right, to play along with this child's fantasies even if it was just for a day.
Perhaps a stronger man would have declined, But Simon couldn’t, he simply could not do it.
Simon opened his mouth to speak, the words were in his mind jumbled unclear but there, like a fog had been placed over them, a morning mist hidden with unknown trepidation, what would his answer be, was there a right one, if there was he could not speak it. His body acted before his mind and he wrapping an arm around her shoulder laying her head on his lap he slowly began to stroke her hair as he stared down at her. Fully at a loss for words.
Isobel closed her eyes, a final tear fell from them streaking down her cheek and onto Simons leg. “Thank you…Daddy.”
Isobel frowned at the memory, she had been so selfish and stupid. She had never even felt the strength of those emotions that went through Simson, fear anxiety, nauseum, happiness, love. It was like all of those feelings had smashed into her like a speeding car.
She still felt like she had been in a wreck, a terrible accident that had left her alive but scathed. The wounds sustained were within her emotions and her soul and they would perhaps never heal, she was still at this time feeling worse and worse.
But at least she had her answer. Was it too soon to say if she would deal with the ramifications of tonight, or would she not have long for this world. She felt herself deep down, she knew she was on borrowed time. Was it right to feel this way, she had gotten her joy but at what cost of someone elses pain.
Sadly she did not know, she was smart for her age no doubt, but emotionally she was no more than a child, she had temper tantrums, and moments of outstanding silliness just like everyone else her age. But unlike everyone else, she was coming to terms with the reality of life far quicker than most. She had to, no child spent a fifth of their life in the matrons or the doctor's office without considering this.
Still though, she had a childhood for the most part, she was happy, she had lived her life as best she could with what she had. All she hoped was that when the time came, Simon would be okay, Calum would be brave, and yes even Abelian, she was a nice lady at heart.
Isobel gazed at the ceiling once more, the room was blurring, again she rubbed her eyes but all that did was exacerbate her drowsiness. She felt tired though her mind was awake. She had so much to ponder, what would happen tomorrow, would there be a tomorrow, who would sit on the Iron throne!?
But her eyes got the better, she grumbled but her ten year old body was slowly getting the better of her and sleep was approaching at a quickening pace.
Sighing she snuggled back into her pillow looking out into the snowy tundra through her window. The snow was raging throughout the whole town and the howling winds made haunted and spooky noises behind the window and throughout the orphanage.
She hugged her cuddly toy more tightly, she wasn’t exactly afraid, but it was an eerie atmosphere. But still she was safe and warm. And Ghost, her stuffed husky toy, was standing on guard for her.
She let the sleep come now, there was no point staying up and getting herself tired out. Tomorrow was a new day and she would do her best to forget about what had happened. All she could do was live her life, anyway she could.
Isobel boisterously screamed in delight as she soared into the sky, The smell of the fresh air and the wind rippling through her hair made her heart swore.
She was flying.
[All Lings, the mission has failed! Get out anyway you can, take to the tunnels in the caverns and go! I’m sorry I have failed you all. Quickly there isn’t much time, I shall hold them back myself as long as--]
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*reads*
*suddenly finds the chapter ends*
*reaches for "Next"*
SON OF A BITCH!
6606032 I know right?!
I need more chapters plz
Okay so we know where one daughter ended up. Is Twilight the other one?
Ok I'm done. Isobel's story in between Chrysalis fast paced story doesn't work for me. Chrysalis parts were too far part to keep up the tension and I wanted to skip Isobel's parts to get back to Chrysalis.
Isobel's story is a fine story but starting here doesn't work for me.
Ways to fix:
Start Isobel's story earlier when Chrysalis's story isn't in the middle of an action sequence.
Start it later. For example end one chapter on Isobel arriving in Equestria and introducing herself. And the next one is her story until she arrives in Equestria.
Cut it all together. Isobel come from such a different world from the ponies that a lot of her background will naturally come out as she introduces herself to the ponies. (What you wrote won't go to waste, you know it. it will influence your writing of her.)
wow. this story is truly fascinating. It’s unfortunate that this story is most likely dead