The afternoon sun hung low, casting long, honey-colored shadows across the flower garden. I had finally managed to find a quiet corner near the rose bushes, hoping to escape the relentless teasing of the trio. I was just beginning to unwind, the scent of lavender acting as a balm for my frayed nerves, when the crunch of gravel warned me of an incoming intrusion.
The real Miera didn't arrive at the manor, she was busy handing the groceries. I worried about Maine's relationship, thinking that it would shatter.
I didn't even have to look up to know it was them. The air seemed to hum with their chaotic energy.
I turned, and my breath hitched… not out of romance, but out of sheer aesthetic horror. Cassius was standing in the center of the path, flanked by Calix and Constantine, who were barely holding back guffaws.
Cassius had decided to "dress to impress," but his idea of impressing was a neon-trimmed, ruffled doublet that looked like it had been stolen from the costume wardrobe of a failing theater troupe. It was garish, bright, and utterly clashing with the natural beauty of the garden.
Before I could even find the words to ask what in the world he was wearing, he closed the distance. My heart hammered against my ribs… partly from the absurdity, and partly from the sheer, terrifying boldness of what happened next.
He dropped to one knee, the ruffles of his ridiculous sleeves brushing the dirt. He reached into his pocket and produced a velvet box, snapping it open to reveal a diamond that caught the sunlight with a blinding, arrogant sparkle.
"Roxy, I know our time together has been... unconventional. But I can't imagine my life without your fire. Will you marry me?"
Cassius said, his voice dropping into a sincere, dramatic baritone that I knew was at least fifty percent performative.
I stood frozen, a mix of pure shock and incandescent fury roiling in my gut. Behind him, Calix and Constantine had lost all composure; they were leaning on each other, howling with laughter, their roars echoing against the manor walls.
My face felt like it was caught in a wildfire. I was furious at the spectacle, at the ridiculous outfit, and at the fact that they were treating my life like a stage play… but beneath it all, the sight of that ring made my head spin. I was at my limit. My hands were shaking, and I was seconds away from drawing my blade just to put an end to the madness.
Suddenly, at my head, Plasma was the one who soon interrupted me.
"Hahahahahah... Did you hear that correctly? Cassius handling a proposal. Never in my life would I see this coming."
"Hey dickless assistant, if I hear one of your insults one last time, I'll swear I'll be crazy."
"Crazy?! More like crazy in bed, Hahahahah... Better yet, Cassius will marry you, so he will likely plant some of his seeds to your womb."
"Disgusting, you pervert."
I took a deep, jagged breath, forcing myself to regain control. I looked down at the smug, expectant grin on Cassius's face and decided that if he wanted a game, I would play it by my rules.
"Fine… I will accept. But there is a condition."
I snapped, my voice icy enough to freeze the garden.
The brothers went quiet, their grins faltering slightly.
"I challenge you to a game of dodgeball. If you lose, you have to wear that hideous outfit for an entire week without a single complaint." I declared, crossing my arms over my chest.
A heavy, bewildered silence fell over the garden. They looked at each other, their eyebrows knitted in confusion.
"Dodge... ball?" Roxy, what in the name of the gods is a dodgeball?"
Cassius repeated, the ring box still in his hand, his expression entirely baffled.
The word "dodgeball" hung in the air, tasting of sunlight, playground dust, and a life I hadn't thought about in years. For a fleeting second, the manor grounds vanished. I wasn't an adventurer with a missing arm or a girl trapped in a war-torn world; I was back on Earth, hearing the whistle blow, feeling the rush of adrenaline as I scanned the court for an opening.
A wave of nostalgia so sharp it stung hit me. It was messy, it was simple, and it was perfectly, beautifully meaningless.
"Dodgeball," I repeated, my voice softening as the memory of a red rubber ball hitting my palms resurfaced. I continued.
"It's a game of rhythm, precision, and... survival."
I looked at the three brothers… Calix, Constantine, and Cassius… who were still staring at me like I'd just spoken in an ancient, forgotten tongue.
"Listen closely," I said, my voice turning crisp. I grabbed a spare dagger from my belt and started carving a massive rectangle into the soft earth of the garden, marking the center line with a deep furrow.
"It's a team sport. Three against three. But since you three are so desperate for my hand in marriage, we'll make it one against three."
Cassius blinked, his ruffled, gaudy sleeves fluttering in the breeze.
"One against three? Roxy, are you serious, you want to be my bride, would you?."
I ignored his arrogance.
"The rules are simple. You dodge the ball, and you throw it. If you're hit, you're out. If you catch it, the thrower is out. The last one standing wins."
The maids, sensing the spectacle, had begun to gather, their whispers filling the air. One of them returned, clutching a leather-bound ball they'd pulled from the manor's storeroom. It wasn't the rubber of my childhood, but it had enough weight to do the job.
I walked to my side of the court, the dirt crunching beneath my boots. I rolled my right shoulder, ignoring the phantom ache where my left arm should have been. I didn't need two hands to throw; I had gravity, momentum, and the muscle memory of a thousand games played in a gym that existed in another universe.
"Take your positions," I commanded, my eyes narrowing as I faced the trio.
Calix looked amused, Constantine looked skeptical, and Cassius… still in his neon-trimmed disaster of an outfit, looked like he was ready to sweep me off my feet, literally and figuratively.
"Whatever this is, I hope you're ready to lose, my blushing rose. I don't intend to let you slip through my fingers."
Cassius chuckled, stepping onto his side of the line,
"Don't get cocky,"
I countered, the ball held firmly in my remaining hand. The nostalgia was fading, replaced by the familiar, cold focus of the hunt.
"This isn't a proposal. It's a massacre."
I bent my knees, the weight of the ball balanced perfectly. The brothers spread out, thinking they had the advantage of numbers, but they had no idea how dangerous a girl with a grudge and a childhood memory could be.
"Begin."
The whistle… or the mental equivalent of it…echoed in my mind. I didn't waste a second.
I whipped the ball toward Cassius with a snap of my wrist that defied the absence of my left arm. It whistled through the air, a blur of leather, but Cassius, desperate to impress, threw himself to the side. The ball whistled past his ear, missing by an inch.
"He's fast, but he's clumsy"
Calix snatched the rebound out of the air before it could hit the fence. He didn't hesitate, winding up to hurl it back at me with all his might. I didn't panic. I watched his shoulder, anticipated the arc, and stepped to the left. The ball whistled through the space where I'd stood a heartbeat before.
I caught it on the bounce, my movements fluid despite my injury. I didn't even look at Calix; I pivoted and fired a strike straight at Constantine, who was trying to flank me from behind Cassius. The ball connected with a satisfying thwack right against his nose.
"Constantine! You're out!" I yelled, a sharp, triumphant grin breaking across my face.
Constantine stumbled back, clutching his face in shock. Then it was Cassius's turn. He picked up the ball, winked at me, and… in a move of pure, cringeworthy melodrama… actually leaned down and kissed the leather before launching it toward me.
I watched it sail toward my chest, my lip curling in genuine disgust.
"You idiot, such audacity."
I muttered, easily swaying my body to the side. The ball sailed harmlessly into the bushes.
I scooped it up, feeling the weight of the leather. This was for the proposal, the ridiculous outfit, and the constant teasing. I locked eyes with Cassius, saw his bravado crumble, and threw. It hit him square in the stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs. He gasped, folding over as he was forced to concede.
"Two down," I breathed, my heart pounding a rhythm of pure, unadulterated joy.
Calix was the last man standing. He growled, stepping up like a titan, and launched the ball with a vertical spike, trying to use the power of a volleyball serve to crush me. I ducked, feeling the wind of the ball pass over my hair, and surged forward.
I didn't give him a chance to breathe. I hammered the ball back at him, a low, fast drive that caught him right in the hip as he tried to jump.
He groaned as he tumbled backward into the dirt.
Silence descended on the garden, save for my heavy, exhilarated breathing. The brothers lay scattered across the makeshift court, panting, their dignity somewhat bruised but their eyes wide with disbelief.
I stood over them, the ball resting against my hip, feeling more alive than I had since the battle at the ravine.
Cassius looked up, his ridiculous ruffles covered in garden dust, and let out a laugh that sounded more like a wheeze.
"I think… I think that's the most terrifying display of affection I've ever seen."
Calix sat up, rubbing his hip, and offered a reluctant, lopsided smile.
"You play like a demon, Roxy. A fair match, indeed."
Even Constantine, wiping his nose, nodded in respect.
"You win, Roxy. You win."
I stood there, feeling the sweat on my brow and the adrenaline fading into a warm, humming contentment. I had won the match, I had silenced the teasing, and for a few minutes, the war, the plague, and the loss of my arm didn't matter. There was only the game.