Daughters of Necros: The Awakening

Chapter 3: Green leaf beetles and how to squash them

Arissa bounces on the balls of her toes and waves wildly at the approaching carriage. "YOOHOO!!! Mr. Jenkins, is that you? We're ready to be picked up now!"

Six gleaming white horses, each brushed to perfection, bedecked with tall golden-shaded feather crowns, and sporting a cloth over their backs, pull into view. As they draw near, it's easy to see the insignia of the Lumos household boldly embroidered onto the stallion's cloths, as well as emblazoned onto the sides of Arissa's transport. The symbol of a stylized sun rising behind a tall triangular mountain is one that is impossible to miss, and well-known throughout the village and beyond.

"As low-profile as ever, eh, papa?" My friend mutters to herself. "Showy, showy."

Mother seems troubled. "Aren't you leaving yourself open to an attack by thieves and vagrants with such an obvious display of your family's wealth, Lady Arissa?"

Arissa rolls her eyes helplessly. "Believe me, it wasn't my idea. It was all-"

"Papa's." All three of us declare simultaneously.

"..And it's the second-best carriage, at that." Arissa complains. "I keep advising him to have an unmarked one kept on hand at all times, but nooo! The moment that I turn my back, he has to have our ridiculous symbol stamped or engraved onto anything that won't run away! He even had it shaved onto every horse's right buttocks, can you imagine?!! It's unnatural!"

I stare at her, dumbfounded. "I- Did not know that..."

Arissa snorts. "Opal had her revenge when it was her turn for 'the treatment.' You know how papa likes to oversee everything done in his domain? Well, he got too close to that lead mare of ours, and she kicked him right in the-"

"-Good evening, my Lady." A hassled, frazzled-looking elderly man in full footman's attire greets her with a tired tip of his hat.

Arissa quickly curtsies to him, the shortened hem of her dress giving a little bounce as she dips. Then she squeals as she spots the lead stallion.

"Moonstone! We were just talking about your mate!" She sweeps over to him and rubs his rump in solidarity.

Moonstone slowly turns his face to her and whickers, nuzzling his whiskered muzzle against her cheek sadly. Then, he begins nibbling on a stray lock of her hair, his eyes glazing over in a complex horselike emotion of despair.

Arissa pats him and clicks her tongue. "I know, baby. Papa can be absolutely horrid sometimes." She murmurs comforting words to the poor traumatised equine, who visibly shudders at the very mention of her father.

Mother continues to appear distraught. "This seems terribly unsafe."

Arissa turns to her and grins. "Oh, don't worry about a thing, Ma'am! Mr. Jenkins here keeps a shotgun beside him at all times, so we'll be fine."

Mother watches Mr. Jenkins shakily removes a stepping-box from inside the carriage and try to lay it down on the front cobblestones. It clatters to a standstill. "I am not reassured." She remarks dryly.

Arissa ambles over to us and smiles blithely. "It's because his shots are so haphazard that he's perfect for the job. I don't know about you, but if I was a criminal and I saw that man take out that shotgun and aim it at my head... Well, I wouldn't risk it." Arissa shivers at the thought. "I've seen him use that thing. The barrel jolts and jumps around in his grasp, and you never know who, or what, he'll hit next. It's positively dreadful."

"..And if worst comes to worst," I whisper in a hushed voice, in mother's other ear, "I can always summon a few ghosts to drag the offending parties straight down to the darkest depths of the Otherworld and... Dispatch them."