Jacob walked with Adora out into the gardens where the sealien was cured rosily up against a snowy-footed unicorn. Whose horn touched the ground with a mystical spiral and something remarkable happened; the specks of blackest worms that Jacob could just make out on the ground, all turned into whitest swans. And away into the heavens flighted.

  “I want a toffee ice-cream milkshake,” Adora remarked.

  “Are there any ways to make it back at the castle….”

  “No, we must go to the market.”

  Jacob waited in the castle’s grand hall while Adora picked out her outfit. He could hear the flourishing and scattering noises of various dresses being flung to the ground. At last, she emerged in the sweetest, cloudiest lace dress lighter than the yellow of a primrose.

  “Utterly lovely,” Jacob congratulated her. “Can we go my Lady?”

  “Yes.”

  At the city-market, which was more akin to some grand outside mall, Jacob realised the streets were not only whitely-flowered but paved in transparent gold glass.

  “Just as is found in Heaven,” Adora proudly proclaimed.

  Suddenly shouts and hollers could be heard and Jacob saw vast black-and-white dragons circling above near the crowd. Their snouts released pretty reddish clouds of something and most people were averting their eyes and even running away yet a couple of pale, fairy-like girls with sooted feet were clamouring about and begging to ride. The boys and men the dragons seemed oddly enough, to ignore altogether.

  “Only heathens ride such beasts,” Adora remarked in abject disgust.

  One of the dragons flew down and beat skeletal, sea-scaled wings. Jacob saw the hint of a teal green hue within its harsh, pale-and-dark flutters as it was heading straight for the royal child and Jacob threw himself in front of it right as a Seintile uttered a horrifying, blood-curdling shriek that seemed to frighten and scatter the devilish beasts away.

  Adora shivered a little but soon regained her composure. “They will certainly not get my great treasure untold, its glow is saved for another,” she murmured.

  Jacob feeling deeply confused had nevertheless a feeling there was something he was missing. Adora suddenly brightened and danced about like a little sunflower; as past the parting clouds and day’s rays, whitest beams broke through and knotted about the trees and turned the flowers gold.

  “Can I please have a toffee milkshake?”

  Jacob realized she was speaking to the vendor who handed her the creamy, bubbling beverage as she waltzed and twirled about with all the manic mania of her little mother.

  Later at the seminar for climate change, green energy, rainforest and wildlife preservation, and saving species from extinction set up by the government in conjunction with such groups as Greenpeace and Aryan's World United Party Shiver dwelled on the machinations of her consciousness. At a revised economics plan and foreign relations function designed to create more jobs worldwide and help small businesses thrive she simply had to attend,

  There, under the great graze of the silver-yellow rays, Shiver continued to wonder if she hated humanity.

  She proceeded to spend the last half hour of the function after she feigned illness to get out of the event early, either in the cloakroom (for the first seconds) hanging up proudly her deep-green velvet, waist-length coat, and the rest outside sulking as Mist finished his speech and then read and occasionally sighed, at the first visible crease in his perfect dark-gray jeans.

  The world at the moment was and had been for quite some time in a state of panic as the virus ravaging its entire population had no cure. The big pharmaceuticals and the universities were all desperate working on it but as the virus was a hybrid combination of various different viruses found in nature and Monovalent could cause it to mutate and become resistant to any antibiotic any time he wanted, so finding a remedy proved impossible. Shiver and Mist were needed for this as their immune bodies acted as viral incubators

  The virus in them could be made active long enough to spread to susceptible individuals or have its DNA sequence altered by the unique hormones Shiver and Mist’s bodies secreted. These caused the virus part of their DNA to undergo various mutations but any strains that might harm the precious Shiverla were immediately detected by Monovalent and terminated.

  The health authorities told people over and again to take safety precautions, but people had to conduct their day-to-day lives and eventually, people simply had to get used to this lethal pathogen that would subside and disappear from the population for a month then suddenly flare up again full force.

  Shiver and Mist on the other hand had no concerns in regards to the lethal pathogen at all. The pair would go from fundraisers and campaign events, charity to charity, and political event to political event looking perfect, elegant, loveliest, and glowing without a semblance of ill health.

  “Don’t you ever get sick?” A man who was a part of Aryan’s party and also did work for Street Aid and the Salvation Army had asked Shiver once incredulously.

  Shiver smiled at him prettily and spoke in her very soft, childlike voice “Just lucky I guess” she said. Shiver had liked this man and also the Aids in Africa charity woman because they had both said she was “very, very beautiful” and even told her, she had “the prettiest big dark eyes and reddish-gold hair, and such nice, pale skin a beautiful creamy colour.”

  She was in trouble with Aryan recently though for getting kicked out of her feminist group. She had told them she had a “rape fantasy” and then Mist had crashed the meeting (men being banned) and the pair then proceeded to giggle and laugh uncontrollably as Mist shouted, “Do what I say, woman,” and pretended to bash her over the head. Aryan naturally was less than impressed, in truth ropable.

  “Juvenile, insensitive behaviour Shiver,” he said reproachfully “and that goes for you too, Mist. Don’t let me hear of you ever committing such atrocities towards a damaged group of people again.” The dark wine of his eyes flashed brilliant and ruby-like with his disappointment. In quiet but smoldering anger.

  Shiver and Mist said simultaneously “We won’t” and proceeded to look up at him with sweet, cute faces and big, innocent eyes that didn’t fool the man for a second. Aryan suspected Shiver did it on purpose to get thrown out but knew he couldn’t possibly reconcile things for her with the group. He had even had to buy their silence as if people heard about it, there would be quite a scandal.

  There had already been a fuss in one of the local electorates about Mist dressing up as a Nazi and a Ku Klux Klan member and a Sex Party official and harassing even coercing various voters into taking flyers to promote party awareness. They had skated through that one as Mist had apologized profusely explaining it was “a joke” and he was a “humanitarian and of course opposed thus, to any form of discrimination.”

  Aryan would have banned Shiver and Mist from the campaign trail but knew having them only participate in the party’s more questionable practices would only make them worse. He hoped the more they felt part of the good of the Party, the less unruly and wild they would be compelled to be.

  It would help bring to the surface the softer aspects of their natures and quell the rather overwhelmingly large proportion of bad or so he hoped. Besides he could destroy them at any given moment he chose, and they knew this so he was confident they would never stray too far out of hand.

  His recent reprimandings had in fact resulted in a large turn-around and their behaviour had been little but positive of late, no mischief or silly games. He also saw fit to keep them as party forerunners as part of the reason he had commissioned them in the first place was so that their precocious intelligent youth, dedication to the cause, and ethereal angel beauty could add a component of class, glamour, and awe to their heavy baggage carrying cause increasing popularity.

  It didn’t hurt either that Mist, had a boyish, easy-going charm and sweet little Shiver was equally compelling with her undeniable ability to “touch people”. It was a very visual society they lived in, and human beings were visually-oriented in general so appearance could be everything.

  Shiver and Mist were now minor even true celebrities. They toted the unheard voices of the young and represented the issues of a disillusioned forgotten youth looking at a bleak future because they were so beautiful had amassed quite a following and were gawked at and stopped in the streets. As sex symbols well Shiver had a universal appeal of young boys to older men.

  While girls, women, and gay men saw Mist as quite the enchanting, glorious creature as he had enough female and male elements in him to make him appeal to either gender or age range. Men some young but others middle-aged or old and perverted had flirted and propositioned both he and Shiver and they had both been felt up frequently in school. Blushing girls asked for his autograph and Monovalent realm account and boys his and Shiver’s virtual accounts and the Shiverla signed numerous autographs, for anyone who asked. Both he and Shiver had declined posing for famous magazines as they (privately) considered them trashy.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Their soft-spoken mannerisms and childlike, delicate sweetness of face coupled with Mist’s smooth, effeminateness and Shiver’s extreme cuteness and small height, made them seem less threatening and more approachable and pure, especially to older generations. It made young girls feel safe liking the handsome, yet feminine, angel-voiced Mist, and shorter or plain males see themselves as in with a chance with Shiver who was still little, and delicate compared to them. Shiver was also the orator for many of Aryan’s feminist ideals. Thus, it all played out just as Emanuel the Shiverla’s head designer had said it would.

  Aryan’s politics, his movement as it gathered thousands of followers and a tight hold on society had become almost like a cult with himself rising up larger than life as the god.

  Aryan did something he rarely did when watching the virtualisers of Mist and Shiver; he laughed. Genuinely. A few disagreements aside, he really agreed with the pair on this one.

  Shiver: The World Moving Forward Society in the name of progress and social harmony is about to re-declare words as serious violence. They yet again, want to make Monovalent “safer” and undo all the free speech sanctions its creators insisted would be an essential part of it.

  The government has now arrested their latest fourteen-year-old, "hate-speech terrorist." Yet simultaneously advocate letting young adult mass murderers out to kill and re-offend.

  Poor late-teenagers too young to have morals or agency a ten-year-old should have and despite boasting about doing it beforehand, they did not know what “they were doing. “Their poor little brains not developed yet.

  Feminists in Sweden say every female who is a child killer is not evil just ill, depressed, and unable to cope. Drafted legislation to release murdering criminals. Funded rehabilitation and safe houses to protect the endangered poor child killers. Were horrified and dumbstruck when they killed again. Young people despite being allowed to marry, choose career paths, and perish in wars, are now often deemed to have less intellect, control, and accountability than animals.

  Also, Aryan's all ropable since they’ve skirmished out on their promise of more money to public schools. Investing billions instead into private and public schools.

  What they actually mean though is that they’ll give our useless private schools 95% of that to use on theatres, tennis courts, and Olympic-sized swimming pools. Poor schools can use their ten percent to stop one of their many dilapidated buildings from collapsing on all the screeching, little hooligans who inhabit them.

  Our favourite political clown-pundit Rob Forth yesterday had an in-Parliament hissy fit about how comedians are bullying him, and he needed to take three weeks off to recover his mental health as opposition leader Mark Gleeson cried on camera because someone said he had cross-eyes. Then when the meeting re-commenced, the pair of them got into a shouting match over who had the nicest jewellery.

  Of course, that might not actually have been them but me and Mist trying to make them look even dumber and more unstable. The jewellery part I mean, the rest was real. We only took over during the re-commencement. Then Aryan made us vote against all their Party’s precious bills. Cause their tie-breakers.

  Mist; You see fans, they won’t actually remember not attending since Aryan had them kidnapped and wiped their memories. I wanted to torture them, but Aryan said they just needed to be put in a peaceful, temporary coma using the virus and then returned.

  Shiver: Also, apparently our next target for Aryan is the psychiatrists urging parents not to take their darling five-year-old kids off their anti-schizophrenia or anti-bipolar drugs as it could be detrimental to their health.

  Mist: No child suffers from schizophrenia any good psychiatrist (most likely born before 1950 and thus dead) will tell you that. The old theory was children didn’t develop severe mental illnesses such as schizophrenia till puberty. The brain wave connections that would cause them weren’t fully developed yet. No (legit) subsequent study has yet proved this hypothesis wrong.

  As for autism which supposedly one in five children has (at least according to some pseudo-study clearly conducted by the pharmaceutical industry) or ADHD which used to be the big disorder children were diagnosed then medicated for. It’s all bogus. I should know I’m one of those children autism-diagnosed at the tender age of seven.

  Put on meds of which the only effect was me vomiting several times a day and blurry vision. The protective bacteria Shiver and I alone possess, then thankfully soon recognized it (the medicine tablets) as a harmful substance and barricaded it from entering my bloodstream.

  The virus then killed off and my nelfine organ replaced any cells the substance resided in. Back to the matter at hand though, these mental illnesses are quite simply rare. So is bipolar, post-traumatic stress syndrome, etc. The instances of them in the population have not changed but the definition has. Physiatrists these days are lazy, ill-informed sods who medicate people at the drop of a hat, as it makes their job easier and medicine companies give them gifts as a reward for making them money.

  Here at Wrighthouse, the kids are on an average of five medications each per day including but not limited to; anti-bipolar for mood swings(I mean so unlike teens) anti-anxiety and depression you know for anyone going through a tough time probably on account of the world sucks so much now.

  The side effects include loss of motor control, dizziness, severe nausea, vomiting, headaches, blood clots, and even in rare cases liver, kidney, or heart failure and dependency not to mention the unforeseen health effects of mixing various medications. Medications to help you lose weight (yes, they prescribe those here for our resident fatties and Ritalin for our overexcitables.

  People are dying from addiction to pain relief meds after being prescribed way too strong narcotics after surgery or for chronic pain they might once have weathered in a less wussy time and to make drug corporations money.

  Blood pressure-lowering drugs are also prescribed to those here adverse to the wonders of diet and exercise. Everyone young and old takes vitamin pills.

  All thanks to them commission studies (the pharmaceutical companies) into vitamin deficiency and mental illness that make it seem like everyone is suffering from it. Example: “79% of people will suffer depression in their lifetime.”

  This is done by broadening the definition of mental illness to anyone who is going through a tough time, didn’t have a perfect childhood, or ceased behaving like a good little typical worker bee, brain-dead zombie for a while. So, doctors and psychiatrists go away and diagnose everyone with mental problems, and companies do bogus studies saying medicine’s the best solution and solely advocate it as a remedy.

  That and therapy, makes them loads of money. Dwelling on people’s problems instead of moving on which once worked well to make people’s lives more bearable compared to wallowing forever in anger, victimhood, and self–pity now only a lifetime of expensive blather and pill pumps can fix. Coincidence?

  Hundred bucks an hour for a murmuring simpleton to diagnose you straight from a text-book, sounds great. Can’t sleep over the past few days? Take Valium, Miss Robinson. Nervous about a job interview Arthur? Or can’t find one at all? Some anti-anxiety drugs should clear you right up. Just broke up with your boyfriend of three weeks Miss Jameson? A Prozac or Zoloft will help with your depression.

  Pharmaceutical companies make mega bucks of overdosing your little darlings on three different very expensive medications. Not to mention their patenting genes and charging a fortune for their medicines in hospitals. Aryan won’t rest until the medical-industrial complex is dismantled. So, expect some neat, little shapeshifts to further discredit them.

  Shiver: My dad recently told me a story about overweight people once being called names and insulted on a forum designed by the Government (haha) as a place where fat people of the country could talk about obesity discrimination. Naturally, the news story on it showed lots of close-ups of the fat people’s bodies and of them walking.

  Undoubtedly so the thin people watching could feel superior and disgusted at the same time but mostly just superior they weren’t fat and was the stupid fat asses' own fault anyway, “ride a bicycle blubber butt,” running through their heads. Essentially appealing to people’s enjoyment of seeing others suffer a sort of sadism combined with a whatever I don’t like about me at least I’m better than them mentality.

  Shots of the unemployed staying at home and supposedly “lounging about” despite there being a generally agreed-upon disparity in the workforce i.e. more people than jobs) were always used the same way on Old Media(sorry you're dead). Everyone watching it is thinking. “Lazy sod join the friggen army.”

  Stories of rape and murder are used similarly. Except if the murder involves children, cute (no spiders please) animals, or families. Then its gratuitous violence combined with something else “sentimentality”. “Oh, poor child,” says a random woman sobbing her grieving eyes out.

  I want to kill anyone who could stab a being of such innocence and the light of an angel shining out of puppy-dog eyes. It never occurred to her, that she could be more productive by stabbing all the gangs and corporation owners. Responsible for mass outsourcing and minimum wage jobs, millions of poverty-stricken people and their children die of severe malnourishment (hunger) and squalor-induced disease.

  Five minutes after watching (and promising herself she’ll donate to the appeal) she’s calmly eating dinner. The only thoughts in her mind now include Gee this vegan chicken is good( as if) and I wonder if Sex Scandal, star Learia has had the baby yet? End result is no money for the starving children.

  There's also a story making the rounds about some drug dealer getting mugged. All I have to say is, this will send Aryan into full lecture mode on how if we had a smaller, stable population and more wealth equity our crime rates would drop, and they wouldn’t need to air this trash. They’d probably air it anyway though because people love violence so much. Except the violence of words. Even calling your significant other "my" is now considered a "bannable" offense.

  We’re not allowed to say “my” or “mine” or “I lost something special” in relationships because it’s "objectifying." Claiming ownership of someone (which is an actual expression of their importance to your life) is “unhealthy.” Yet people’s relationships are so shallow and causal now. How does that not make you fairly worthless, uncared for, and well below an object? They love their clothes and technology much more.

  They say calling someone “my” sounds wrong but… “This is my female companion and equal half as we fulfill our mutual sexual and social needs with complete consent” seems far more robotic and dehumanizing.

  Mist; I always called “the” parents mother and father. No cutsie mum or daddy. It may have been an expression ostensibly of respect to avoid friction but in fact, relates to how utterly irrelevant they are to me; deserving only polite formalness for being useful to my being at this time.

  Shiver: They use “possessive”, romantic language as it’s now called in virtual stories for movies and books, the ones designed as playable and interactive, in Monovalent realm. Then they lie and say it’s moralizing against it and showing how possessive/evil/flawed the characters are.

  Yet you know really people are longing for/so titillated by it because it’s gone. I used to dream of a love who just whispered my, my, my, and mine over and over again to me. My love I want to hear it just once. In reality and not simply in a virtual storybook.

  Mist: Like a decade and a half ago, wasn’t Emanuel behind the infamous Operation Love Letter, where you sent feminists gushing and infuriating virtual letters calling them yours, my love, always belong to me, etc?

  Talked of their strong, independent, empowered ness turning you on and sent politicians and corporate tycoons messages talking about how you dreamed of the soon-to-be nights, you both copulated to the sound of sickly, downtrodden people asking for raises only to be put in their place. Declaring to them you were ever-masturbating to their speeches about how anyone can be wealthy and everyone else is a lazy parasite. Repeated on loop.

  They also spammed them with as much insensitive to modern sensibilities material as they could. Ahh True Love in “The Divorce and Try Till You’re Ready to Buy,” society.