Trying to Save my Favorite Character from His Tragic Fate

The servants roll out the gold carpet to cover the entire platform. The award ceremony will be held soon in the stadium. Everyone can feel the thrill in the air even before the new champion walks up those platform stairs to receive the Midnight Queen - a flower that appears only in storybooks till now. However, today, the audience will see its majestic beauty. 

This annual tournament is also special because the champion is a woman. In all the tournament's history, only men have won. Yet, this year, a woman manages to blow away everyone's concept that women are fragile creatures who cannot win a fight if she does not possess the physical blessings of a man. No. Women are not fragile creatures. Having a different physical composition does not make a woman fragile. Not even all men are physically blessed, but that does not take away the identity that they chose upon. A human's physicality has nothing to do with winning or losing.  contemporary romance

Then what is a determinant?

That is really hard to say. Some say the training. Others say the technique itself. Who knows? Maybe even luck is a determinant. However, one thing remains the same. The process needs to happen, so the best rule of thumb is to trust the process. Do what needs to be done. Eventually, something will come out of it. It could fail your expectations, but even so, results are always positive. So winning has all to do with relying on one's best attributes as they go along the slow uphill trip.

That being said, the tournament outcome is not without criticism. Some are even thrown out of proportion. Why? The preconditioned views are always hard to change. Some people truly believe that the tournament is a clashing of pure muscles, blood, and sweat. Then again, the true winners of the world don't rule with their iron fists as their only weapon. 

Kyrie lets a laugh through his nose at Cathy's sound reasoning.

"Lord Analybe has raised a promising heiress."

The old man lets out a pleased smile hearing the complement to his niece. He also thinks that way. Cathy has always been a dutiful and thoughtful child.

He turns to the young woman, "Cathy. I am very pleased, so I will award you for all the hard work you put for this tournament to happen. What would you like?"

Cathy glances at Laurel and bites her lower lip, "I would like to be the one presenting the prizes to our winners!"

Lord Analybe frowns at Cathy's proposal. Just a few days ago, the paladin informed him that there is a chance of the supreme witch appearing in the award ceremony even though these days of intense screening and searching, not even the paladin succeeded in finding that witch, which means that the witch will only show herself at the award ceremony.

"Not happening, Cathy," Lord Analybe denies the chance in case his niece meets the supreme witch.

"Dad…"

Lord Analybe's eyes turn into circles, hearing Cathy calling him dad for the first time in years. Her incessant pleading makes the old man weak, so in the end, he abides with the condition that she will run if danger appears. 

Cathy smiles widely, a bit sorry that she uses that card to make the old man agree to let her handle the prizes. Her stomach is filled with hovering butterflies that have not let her sleep for these weeks. Her thoughts have never left away from that woman who has the guts to strike her across her face. Yet, nothing is sexier than watching her smirk after pushing Federline off the platform and winning the tournament by pure wits. She has finally lowered the hostility that Laurel shoots towards her. However, they are still not close enough to talk comfortably. No, worse. Cathy has not been able to step close enough to have the shining opportunity. Completely pathetic, but still, she has no intention to let this chance go to waste. This is how she lived her life. She would try until she succeeds because she takes pride in being a sore loser.

Plus, she runs faster than the old man, so she has the duty to protect him if anything. Lord Analybe is no longer in his glorious years as a warrior.

So now, she stands on the decorated platform of gold, white, and red with her formal attire designed for such events. She wears the dignified white dress that fits like a glove, draped with a fanciful gold cape on one of her shoulders, adorned with her crown that signifies her right to inherit the protectorate. Many gasps at her appearance, but she has felt breathless when seeing Laurel in a dignified black knight suit walking up the stairs of the platform. Her simple solid black cape flutters with her fluid movements, and she graces the audience with her attention which in turn roars in pure bliss at her presence. 

Cathy becomes increasingly nervous as she closes in the distance between them. Her hands sweat underneath the cube container that holds the most valuable thing she could carry. 

"Congratulations, Miss Ravenswood, for winning the tournament. I will present you with our land's treasure, the Midnight Queen."

Cathy extends her arms toward Laurel, and their fingers brush lightly past when exchanging. It is a slightly bitter but sweet moment. She steals glances of the woman mesmerized by that translucent black flower, rained with particles of the galaxy. 

-Blast- 

Cathy takes her eyes away from Laurel and lifts her head to look in the direction she heard the blast. The windows of a room turn black from the cracks. Just following that innocent moment she coveted to experience, her worst nightmares have sprouted.

"What-" Cathy suddenly feels a painful squeeze in her chest. She groans without the ability to exhale her breath from the pain.

She looks over at the dark, mysterious flower. She sees that its glass container, a barrier created by the Analybe heirloom, glitching. Cathy suddenly feels the energy of the barrier around the Midnight Queen rush back to her veins, striking straight to her brain. Her mind jars! 

"N-no…" Cathy lets out an agonized cry when feeling her connection with the Analybe heirloom change.

Laurel grabs the container with the flower underneath her arm and the princess, who seems to have a seizure out of nowhere.

Cathy lets out a drowned-out voice, "I… I just lost the connection to my father!"

Her heart spasms. She looks up at the room where her father should be, and the windows shatter along with all her hopes that the old man is safe. Cathy has another wave of pain from the energy within her going berserk. Something is definitely not right! Why is the heirloom transferring ownership to her by forcing the connection?

Cathy endures the pain and elongates her neck to see through the cracked window. Her father appears from the shadows, but he appears with a sword pierced through his chest from behind. 

Behind stands the seventh prince's attendant, Vivienne. 

done.co