The Comic Relief Chapter

Synne reveals why he joined the dark side. Damien gets romantic. Karina pigs out. Mollenna gets drunk. Lachesis reveals that she's a neat freak.

Yes, folks, there you have it. The Comic Relief Chapter.


Some of you may be wondering why I wrote this.

To tell you the truth, even I don't know.

I just felt like it. In fact, you don't even have to read this. It has nothing to do with the story, but I just felt like writing it. And since I thought it was a shame if this dusted away in cyberspace, I put this up.

I guess it really can't be counted as a chapter, but still! I tried!

Be forewarned of extreme strangeness. If this gets too sugar-high-y for you, exit the window. Immediately. Take no precautions. Even if you're on the thirteenth floor of some totally tall skyscraper. This is a chapter worthy of a crackfic.


"S-Synne? Where are you? Are you back?" asked Mollenna timidly. "Synne?"

She heard a distant crash.

What in Earth? Where is that noise coming from? The… wine cellar?

Deciding that she absolutely had to investigate, Mollenna rushed toward the wine cellar. A few moments later, she burst through the wooden door after playing impatiently with the heavy lock.

"Synne? Is that you?" she called out. She had no idea why she thought there was even the remotest chance that Synne was in the wine cellar, but still.

She saw a small, scurrying shape dragging a rather large wine bottle with its paws. It was… a rat! A rat! A rather strong rat, too…

"S… Synne? Is that you?" she repeated.

"Hi, Mollenna!" squeaked the rat.

"Ew! Are you a rat, Synne?"

"No! I'm a mouse! Get that straight! I'm a mouse, not some godforsaken rat! Oh, speaking of which, might you have some cheese? I've heard that it goes wonderfully with wine."

"Synne… you're a mouse…"

"No, I thought I was an elephant. Honestly, Moll, make yourself useful!"

"M—Moll!?" spluttered Mollenna. "What kind of a name is that? Speaking of which, what in Earth is wrong with you? Has the darkness done something to you? Addled your wits somewhat? Muddled your mind, perchance?"

Synne suddenly grew sober. "Mollenna, I have something very serious to tell you."


"Well… you see… the darkness convinced me to join the dark side. I just thought you should know that."

"What!? Why, Synne, why? How, when, where, and most of all, why? I thought… I thought I could trust you! And then you just turn your back on me at the least temptation!"

"The truth is… the dark side has cookies. They're really delicious. I thought it was a pretty good bargain."



"Give me some of that wine."


Yet again, Karina was lost.

She had started to think that someone up there was conspiring against her. But, as it wasn't scientifically proven that there was someone up there, she shoved her thoughts to one side and set about systematically searching through the halls.

And that was how she came across the kitchen.

It was a large room, with lots of servants bustling around and paying her no mind. But what really concerned her was the table.

Not because the table was really pretty or anything, but because of what was on it.

A feast! A feast! A feast!

Looking suspiciously at the other people, she tentatively reached out with a convenient silver fork and tasted something that looked like a chocolate cake.


She dug in enthusiastically, well aware that it had been a long time since she'd eaten anything. Soon, the large chocolate cake had been reduced to a few crumbs on a plate, albeit a beautifully ornamental, gold plate.

Fishing out something that looked like caviar, she picked carefully at it and was delighted when she found that it was. Even quicker than she'd demolished the cake, the caviar was settled into her stomach.

Now, she decided to be daring and try out one of the many foods on the table that she could not name. And even if they had a name on Earth, well, she probably wouldn't be able to pronounce it.

Time to dig in!

A few blissful meals later, she heard a shrill scream from behind her that made her spill some of the delicious gravy she was devouring on a lemon cake. It was a yummy-looking lemon cake too…

She turned around, intending to give the screamer a piece of her mind. Not literally. He was a short, pudgy little man with beady, piggish eyes and a rather pronounced goatee. He wore a classic chef's outfit.

"Vhat is zis?" he exclaimed, his voice heartbroken. "Mon amor, mon amor! Vhat… vhat… how could you? You! You are the perpetrator of zis terrible, terrible zing! How could you? Vhat gave you ze right to do such a zing? Zis was all to go on His Highness the Crown Prince's plate for his dinner! And now, now you have ruined it! Ruined it!"

"Yeah, well, screw Damien. He's dead. I am very much alive, on the other hand, and, in fact, very much hungry."

"You—you insolent mortal! Wait… mortal? You are a mortal? You are Her Highness Lady Karina!"

"Wait… 'Her Highness Lady Karina'… that sounds nice… very nice… yes, Karina likes… she likes it a lot…" Savoring the aftertaste of the gravy, she turned the full force of her gaze on the short little man. "Yeah, that's right! I'm Her Highness Lady Karina to you, and you better listen to what I'm saying! I want food. In fact, I want chocolate chip cookies. You have some chocolate chip cookies, don't you?"

The cook stopped his pathetic sobbing suddenly. "Vhat are zese… chocolate chip cookies zat you speak of? Some sort of exotic delicacy? You really must tell me more."

Flabbergasted, Karina gaped at the cook. "You mean, you can cook all this fancy stuff but you still can't back chocolate chip cookies? Blasphemy! Blasphemy, I tell you!"

Looking almost apologetic, the cook replied, "No, but you really must tell me how to create zese cookies zat you speak of."

Suddenly, Karina felt a presence behind her and saw the cook pale.

(Insert climactic music.)

"M-Monsieur C-Crown Prince Damien," gasped out the cook, his voice obsequious. He bowed low enough to touch his nose to the floor.

Karina turned slowly around and smiled nervously, unsure of how to act. After he had brought her here, he had said little to her, and now… well, now, she was almost nervous.

"Karina," he murmured, his voice low, and she felt as if he was almost caressing her. "Karina, you never told me you were hungry."

"I—" she swallowed and raised her chin defiantly. "Well, it's not like you ever asked."

He laughed, and Karina was all at once struck with the feeling of how wonderful that laugh sounded.

"Cook," he announced, his voice lordly and arrogant. "Prepare the greatest feast you have ever for Karina to eat."

"Y-yes, monsieur," muttered the man, scurrying away.

"Hey!" protested Karina mildly. "You didn't have to do all that stuff! I mean, this was good enough for me—"

He cupped her cheek delicately, brushing a thumb over her cheekbone. "There is nothing in this world good enough for you," he said. "Except me, of course," he added.

Uncomfortable, blushing wildly, Karina backpedaled frantically and retorted, "Yeah, right, Casanova. Umm… why are you here anyways?"

"Oh, no reason in particular. Just because the author thought she'd include me, that's all."

"What? What author?"

"You know, the author of this story. You don't actually think you really exist, do you? For that matter, you don't actually think I exist, do you? I'm too good to be true, after all. I'm handsome, powerful, rich, and above all, a vampire… on top of that, I have a sense of humor, too."

"That's just messed up, Damien. Tell the truth! Why are you here?"

"Because the author decided so! Really, Karina. You must work on that skepticism of yours. I believe you mortals have something called the virtual reality hypothesis (1)? Our position as main characters isn't really that different from that idea."

"You… you mean, we actually don't exist? We're only the product of some person's pen and paper and computer? So, I don't have any choice in my actions? The author can just make me do what he or she or even it wants me to do, and I won't be able to say anything about it? So, I could say, 'Walla, walla, ooga' right now, and the only reason I'd be saying it is because the author decided it was finally time for me to say it?" wailed Karina hysterically. "What kind of a life is that?"

Damien stepped forward, sweeping her into his arms, crushing her soft body against his. He leaned his head down slightly, taking in her scent, and then murmured to her, "It's alright, Karina, it's alright. Hush now, dear. It doesn't matter what the author thinks of this. We'll always be together."

Breaking down into tears, Karina pounded her fists against his hard chest. "'We'll always be together'? 'We'll always be together'? Is that supposed to make me feel any better!"

"Umm… duh?"

Karina paused in her waterworks for a moment. "Damien?"

"Yeah, hun?"

"Why are you talking like a Southerner-slash-teenager?"

"'Cause the authoress felt like it, duh."

"Oh, so now our author is female?"

"Umm… yeah."

"Okay. That's nice."


Lachesis bit her lip, looking at the Pattern. It was a beautiful thing, but it was terribly beautiful, and would surely blind any mortal that gazed at it. She glanced at Atropos, who caught the glint in her eye and leered back at her.

Well, now that Clotho is gone…

It wasn't that Lachesis was a neat-freak or a perfectionist. In fact, she was the farthest thing from that. But that snag, it annoyed her so. And Clotho didn't bother to do anything about it.

She tiptoed sneakily towards the Pattern, almost as though afraid that Clotho would catch her. Stealthily, she poked a finger in between the snag—and started unwinding. Of course, she would take out a string, but that string was an insignificant thing. It didn't belong among the Immortals' strings, anyways.

Grinning, she held up the string triumphantly, the snag completely gone. Atropos bestowed Lachesis an approving smirk.


Karina had suddenly fainted in Damien's arms.

While that was terribly romantic and all things sappy, Damien was not pleased in the least bit.

He was about to lean in and kiss her, after all, and the mortal just had to ruin things by fainting dead away.

Must be a mortal thing, he decided.

"Karina?" he asked softly, shaking her gently. "Karina, wake up."

The girl did not even answer.

Well, now there was one deep sleeper.

He suddenly heard high, loud, and rather obnoxious tittering from the hallway outside. Using his oh-so-superior vampire skills, he deduced that it was Mollenna and Synne outside by their scents. True to his prediction, Synne, for some reason a human, tottered in, supporting Mollenna.

"'Ello, Dammy!" cried Mollenna, her cheeks rather flushed and her eyes dull. "How… how… how is you?" She pushed herself off Synne and wavered a bit, before Synne hastily supported Mollenna once more.


"She got drunk," explained Synne, obviously better at holding his wine.

"Mollenna… drunk?" It was a blue moon more often than Damien was almost incoherent.

"It's a shock, I know. But Mollenna decided she needed something to brace herself after I told her I'd joined the dark side because they had cookies."

"You… dark… cookies," choked Damien.

Paying his rather unintelligent comment no heed, Synne noticed that Karina had fainted onto Damien. "What happened to her?"

Damien shrugged. "You know, if the authoress would let me, I'd rush dramatically to a hospital, carrying Karina bridal style."

"Naah… it'd be too much work for her."

"Well, one can hope."

Mollenna let loose a giggle suddenly. She had somehow made her way to Karina and was poking her in rapid succession. "Lookie, Synne! It doesn't move at all! It just stays there!"

Synne looked keenly at Mollenna. "Hey, Moll, would you mind if I gave your soul to It?"

Swaying on her feet, Mollenna turned to Synne. "What's It? Is It a he or a she?"

Looking solemn, Synne said, "It's neither one nor the other."

"So… you mean… It's a she-male?"

"Pretty much."


Damien looked slightly weirded out by this conversation.

"So," plowed on Synne, "would you mind?"

Mollenna looked up at Synne—and fainted. Probably because of all the wine she had consumed.

Catching her awkwardly, Synne spoke, "I'll take that as a no."

"Why did Mollenna faint too?" asked Damien retrospectively.

Synne shrugged. "Must be a girl thing."



"Yes, Clotho?" asked Lachesis calmly.

"You ruined it! You touched it, and then you ruined it!"

"Clotho, all I did was fix the snag!"

"And you took out a string!" screeched Clotho. "You took out a string! I absolutely hate meddling Immortals! I thought you were above this!"

"Well, you put the string back in, didn't you?" reasoned Lachesis. She was terribly disappointed when Clotho had done so. "So, there's nothing really for you to get upset about."

"I… suppose… but never do that! Never!"

"Okay, Clotho, are you happy? I won't ever do it again."

"I'm just ecstatic."


Karina stretched out and woke up. Yawning hugely, she looked around. She was in a room with two beds. It was an unfamiliar room, with white walls and no windows. The beds were comfortable, but they had a boring white color scheme as well.

She noticed Mollenna in the other bed. "Mollenna, do you know where we are?"

"Infirmary," muttered the girl. "Now shut up."

"Wh-what?" Never had Karina heard the mild-mannered, shy Mollenna speak to anyone like that.

"I said, 'Shut up.' I have the mother of all hangovers right now."

"Umm… oh… okay…"


(1) For those that don't know, the virtual reality hypothesis is the idea that we are all actually living in a virtual reality created by other people. This is totally generalized, but it's the basic idea.