An Unwritten Story [LitRPG, Evil MCs]

Noa, Vionette, Elina, and Lina stood in the center of the room, the glowing runes of the teleportation circle at their feet dimming.

They had left the heavy lifting of the new world to others—leaving Lucien to weave the golden threads of Aurelyth’s treasury into their own, and leaving Roswell to piece Eryndor’s shattered crown back together in the quiet wake of their passing.

They pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway. The castle felt different now—larger, perhaps, or simply more silent.

As they approached the first intersection, Lina looked at Elina. “Hey, big sis Elina, are we doing that today?”

Elina looked back at her with excited eyes. “Of course! We can’t waste time now, can we?”

“Then,” Lina looked at Noa and Vionette. “So long, you two. C’mon, the garden is this way.”

“Enjoy your time,” Elina added, turning along with Lina.

Both waved as the pair split off down a different path.

Noa looked at the two leaving, raising a brow. What are these two up to?

Vionette and Noa continued toward her office, their footsteps tapping a rhythmic duet against the polished stone. As they walked, the daylight began to pour through the towering lancet windows in thick, honeyed columns, turning the corridor into a gallery of gold and shadow.

From an intersecting hall, a figure emerged, and stopped when she noticed them, her expression softening.

Before Noa could even register the change in her posture, Vionette bridged the distance between them and latched onto his left arm. She didn't say a word, her eyes fixed on her sister as if using him as a living shield against whatever ‘royal lecture’ might be coming their way.

Noa looked down at his trapped arm, his mouth slightly ajar in a silent protest. He turned his gaze toward the approaching Seliora, a weary sigh escaping him.

Why am I part of the package deal for the scolding?

“I heard the news. You really did win with those numbers.” Seliora came to a halt, a slow, radiant smile spreading across her face.

Noticing the lack of an immediate reprimand, Vionette let go of Noa’s arm and took a deliberate, feline step forward, tilting her chin up with a proud grace.

“You bet! I told you, didn’t I?”

“Yes, yes, you did.” A soft laugh escaped Seliora’s lips. “I’ve already handled the preliminary reports and notified the citizens. The bells haven’t stopped since the first messenger crossed the gates.”

“Thank you, sis.”

“Though, what surprised me most from the reports,” Seliora’s voice dipped into a tone of genuine awe, “was that there was not one single casualty from our side.”

Hearing the compliment, Vionette’s ego flared in the best way possible. She planted a hand on her hip, her smile brightening. “I care abou—”

“But more than that,” Seliora interrupted, stepping forward to bridge the final gap.

She pulled Vionette into a sudden, deep embrace, her teasing expression softening into something warmer.

“—I am just happy that you are not injured.”

Seliora’s eyes fluttered shut, a few stray tears escaping to track down her cheeks as her mouth pulled into a shaky, inward smile. It was the grounding embrace of a woman who had spent the last week mourning a sister she wasn't sure would ever come home.

Vionette was taken aback, but she felt the slight tremor in Seliora’s hands. While the war had been a foregone conclusion for those who knew Noa’s strength, for Seliora, it had been a week of impossible silence.

Vionette hugged her back, resting her chin on Seliora’s shoulder. “I’m back, sis. Don’t worry.”

The sunlight radiated through the corridor, while the birds in the garden trees sang in a rhythmic, joyful choir, as if the world were finally breathing again. But as the warmth of Seliora’s heart seeped into her own, Vionette felt that recurring reminder of the one enemy she couldn't outrun.

It’s already nearing this winter… I will find a way somehow.

Beyond the borders she had just redrawn, beyond the kings she had just toppled, she was still hunting for a victory that the world wasn't ready to give her—the victory over fate.

Noa, watching from the sidelines, let a satisfied smile touch his lips. Seeing the two sisters finally whole again was a better victory than any kingdom he had annexed.

***

Noa opened the door to Vionette’s office and entered. He bypassed the formal chair and collapsed onto his favorite chaise lounge, his hands clasped behind his head and legs crossed in a lazy, victorious stretch that made the furniture groan.

“…A festival, huh?” He watched Vionette enter the room behind him, her graceful stride barely making a sound on the thick rugs.

Vionette sank into her chair, scanning the mountain of reports Seliora had flawlessly finished while she was away. Then, pushing the paperwork aside, she pulled a fresh, blank sheet to the center of the desk. With a satisfied hum, she dipped her quill and began writing.

“We have so many things to do,” she nodded, her eyes fixed on the ink.

Noa watched her for a moment before pulling out his own book—the one that held the soul of Acheron’s design—and began filling the blank pages with his own erratic scrawls.

…

The office was quiet, save for the scratching of quills and the distant sound of servants preparing for the upcoming feast. Eventually, Vionette stood up and walked toward Noa.

He caught her movement and set his quill down. “So, what ideas did you write?”

Vionette reached the chaise lounge and knelt, her knees sinking into the plush rug as she leaned over the armrest. Her arms framed Noa’s head, trapping him in her personal space as she held the paper over his torso.

“This will do,” she said with a satisfied smile, her cheek brushing against his.

“Holyyy… here I thought mine was unreasonable.” Noa lifted his eyebrows, genuinely taken aback by the scale of the festivities she’d scrawled out.

He raised his hands, intending to show her his own sketchbook, but the space above him was suddenly vacant. Vionette had already moved from the armrest to the front of the chaise lounge.

“Let’s see yours then,” she murmured.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she settled directly into his lap, leaning back until she was draped over his chest, her head resting just below his chin, her legs draped comfortably over his.

Noa froze, his mouth half-open in a mix of genuine surprise and a flare of joy that made his chest tighten.

“Careful, there’s no space for two on this thing,” he smiled, bracketing her sides with his arms as he held his book over her.

Is she impatient or what?

Vionette scanned the pages of his book, her face transitioning into a deadpan mask of disbelief.

“Is your head filled with food like Elina’s? Of course we’re bringing the delicacies,” she said, her eyes flicking upward. “You don’t have to write them all down on this, Blackie.”

“I mean…” Noa looked down at her, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “When my top priority is already right on top of me, I have to find something else to fill the page with.”

Vionette placed a finger beneath his chin, tilting his face with a satisfied smile. “Oh really?”

“So, what else do we need to prepare?” Noa asked after she let go of his chin.

“We need to go to Aurelyth first and get their ores for the festival, then get the artisans and cooks from Eryndor. And after that—”

“Yes! The outfits come first!” Noa’s voice rose with excitement.

The prospect of the festival's aesthetics was a priority he could get behind; he was already imagining the new styles he could see ‘someone’ in.

Seeing his smile and knowing exactly what he was thinking, Vionette shook her head and shifted slightly to place her cheek against his chest. As Noa wrapped an arm around her, she closed her eyes.

It’s warmer than I expected.

She rubbed her cheek against his chest like a pampered cat, savoring the steady, grounding rhythm of his heart. As Noa watched, she stopped moving and drifted off to sleep.

She must be tired after going back and forth—

A deafening blast shattered the silence, obliterating the far end of the room where Vionette’s prized bookshelves had once stood.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” Vionette’s eyes flew open, her pupils shrinking in shock as Noa securely wrapped his arms around her, shielding her from the flying debris.

The stone walls were reduced to jagged rubble, smoke billowing into the chamber as charred pages of history rained down like black snow.

Noa surged to his feet as Vionette scrambled off his lap, both of them charging toward the gaping hole in the wall, smoke curling around their ankles.

“Who the hell did—” Noa’s threat died in his throat.

Through the clearing smoke and the skeletal remains of the wall, two figures stood in the royal garden far below them.

“Big sis… I think it misfired.” Lina stood there with a stiff, nervous grin, the corners of her mouth twitching as she held her staff.

“I… guess so…?” Beside her, Elina’s eyes were wide and unblinking, her dragon tail standing as rigid as a spear.

Both of them stared back at the duo above through the smoking ruins.

***

A few moments prior,

“Yes, just like that! Cast it like that!” Elina cheered, her voice echoing off the stone.

“Here I go then!” Lina shouted, channeling her Aether into her staff.

The fireball streaked across the yard, impacting the target with a satisfying explosion.

“Wow… are you a genius or what? That was like… the first attempt.” Elina marveled, before clearing her throat and puffing out her chest with pride. “Of course, it’s mostly because I’m such a masterful teacher.”

“Is it?” Lina mused, her eyes distant. “It’s still nothing compared to the flames you showed me back in Eryndor, though. I still don’t have enough Aether.”

“Well then,” Elina’s eyes sparked with draconic mischief. “If you want to see real flames, I’ll give you a little boost with my own Aether.”

“Really!?”

“Yes! Now, cast it again.” Elina grinned. “I’ll do the rest.”

As Lina began the incantation, Elina reached out, her fingers weaving ancient draconic runes into the gathering Aether. She had forgotten, just for a second, that Lina was using a standard staff, not a legendary artifact.

“Oh no! It can’t handle it!” Lina shouted as the staff began to vibrate violently.

The resulting spell tore through the air with terrifying speed, seeking the stone structure above—which happened to be the exact room in the castle where Noa and Vionette were finally finding a moment of peace.

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