Chapter 13: Chapter 12 – It's All Clean Now

The Final Maid(Hiatus)Words: 9055

Chapter 12 – It's All Clean Now

Seraphina walked down the corridors of the Imperial Castle, cradling Aurelia gently in her arms.

People turned to stare. Maids froze mid-step. A steward dropped the documents he was carrying. Even passing guards stiffened, gripping the hilts of their swords with trembling hands.

She was supposed to be executed today.

Yet here she was, walking casually—no blood, no bruises—wearing a clean and elegant maid’s uniform, her hair jet-black and shining, eyes unreadable. There was no fear in her movements, no hesitance in her steps. She carried Aurelia like a knight would carry a sleeping princess, as if the entire castle belonged to her and no law could touch her.

Whispers rose behind her, but no one dared speak directly to her.

“Is she a ghost?”

“Maybe the court forgave her?”

“That can’t be… she was on the platform… I saw her die.”

But Seraphina paid them no mind.

She had no need to.

She had one task: protect the girl in her arms. Nothing else was relevant.

When she reached Aurelia’s chambers, she nudged the door open with her shoulder and stepped inside. The room was dim and still, barely changed since she had last cleaned it in her former life. Carefully, she laid Aurelia down on the stiff mattress. The girl twitched in her sleep, brows furrowing, as if her dreams were arguing among themselves.

Seraphina sat beside her, tilting her head with a look of gentle curiosity.

“So fragile,” she murmured, voice soft and melodic. “Your emotions are overwhelming your vessel. That’s why you collapsed.”

She watched Aurelia for a long time—watching her chest rise and fall, watching her eyelids tremble. Then she turned her gaze to the room.

Dust in the corners of the dresser. A bent candle stand. Pillows slightly off-center. Imperfections.

Unacceptable.

“So… I need to clean this?” she whispered to herself, blinking thoughtfully.

With a swift flick of her hand, she grabbed a rag cloth from a nearby drawer.

And then she vanished.

Not literally—but to the human eye, that’s how it seemed. One moment she stood at the window wiping the sill, and in the next breath, she was at the far wall aligning portraits, then at the floor, scrubbing away stains. No blur. No afterimage. Just impossibly fast movement.

She moved like an inevitability.

Like lightning.

End had not simply possessed Seraphina’s body. No. Possession was for spirits and necromancers. End, a being beyond existence, could not be housed in any mortal shell without destroying it. So End had rebuilt Seraphina’s body from the inside out—a perfect vessel, unbreakable, tireless, eternal, and absurdly powerful.

And yet… this perfect being struggled with something new: domesticity.

Despite her speed, when Seraphina paused to assess the room… it was still messy.

She tilted her head in confusion.

“I… do not understand. I moved the objects into aesthetically appropriate configurations. I erased visible disorder. Why is it… still wrong?”

A pause.

Then a smile.

“Ah. This must be what they call learning.”

Stolen story; please report.

She stood tall, brushing invisible dust from her skirt.

And then, she spoke.

Not in human tongue.

Not in divine script.

But in the First Language—the language of beginnings. The one that predated time and space. The language created by the Creator and shared only with End.

It was not a spell.

It was a command.

ᛁ ᚹᚨᚾᛏ ᚨᛚᛚ ᚱᛟᛟᛗ ᛏᛟ ᛒᛖ ᛚᛁᚾᛖᛞ ᚨᚾᛞ ᛟᚱᚷᚨᚾᛁᛉᛖᛞ.

(I want all room to be cleaned and organized.)

Just a few words.

The room trembled.

Dust vanished into nothing. Objects realigned in perfect harmony. The scent of lavender filled the air. Broken items fixed themselves. Curtains straightened as if a breeze had swept through. Everything obeyed—not because of magic—but because they had no choice.

Seraphina clasped her hands together and smiled, pleased.

“…That’s better.”

She returned to Aurelia’s bedside and knelt, watching her sleep.

“So this is what it means,” she whispered, “to try and make a human happy.”

Her tone held no arrogance, only curiosity.

This child had begged for nothing.

But Seraphina—no, End—had answered anyway.

And she intended to learn what joy meant… even if it took eternity.

The Corridor of Blood

The stone halls of the Imperial Castle trembled—not from war, nor rebellion—but from whispers. Whispers of something impossible.

“I saw her walking.”

“They all saw her walking… just like that…”

“Seraphina—the executed maid.”

The rumors had spread like wildfire.

A group of ten Imperial Guards moved in formation, boots pounding the marble floors as they advanced toward the western wing—specifically, the chambers of Princess Aurelia. They weren’t ordinary guards. These were elite, trained to act first and question later. Their commander, a hard-faced man in iron-plated armor, signaled them to halt near the door.

They whispered among themselves.

“It has to be an impostor.”

“But who would impersonate an executed assassin?”

“She was executed. I saw her die.”

The commander didn’t care.

“Stay sharp. Whether it’s a ghost or a fool, we take them down.”

One guard stepped forward, preparing to kick the door open.

But before his boot could touch the wood, the door creaked open gently from the inside.

A woman peeked out.

Elegant, clean maid uniform. Jet-black hair. Gentle eyes that carried no malice. Just soft confusion.

“Please don’t make noise,” Seraphina said, tilting her head. “My lady is sleeping.”

The guards froze.

She stepped outside without fear, closing the door behind her.

They stared at her—relaxed posture, calm voice, composed presence. Not a trace of the chaos or desperation expected from a criminal on the run. For a moment, they hesitated. Maybe… maybe the Court had truly pardoned her?

But the commander snapped them back to reality.

“Arrest the assassin!”

Seraphina blinked, visibly puzzled. “That seems… excessive,” she murmured.

Four guards moved forward, intending to subdue her.

They surrounded her.

They grabbed her arms.

They pushed her shoulders.

She didn’t move.

Not a twitch.

Their efforts were like pressing against a mountain.

She didn’t resist. She didn’t react violently. She simply looked at them with calm, puzzled eyes, as if they were performing some strange ritual. Were they trying to give her a massage?

The guards began to sweat.

One finally shouted, “Blades out!”

The sound of steel rang out.

Seraphina’s eyes narrowed, an unfamiliar excitement flickering behind them. “Ah,” she whispered, almost gleefully, “so this is a fight.”

Her stance changed. She raised her fists—not like a warrior with a sword, but barehanded like a boxer. Balanced, composed. Footwork perfect.

Seraphina [https://i.ibb.co/zWJ8J1k4/Seraphina-1.jpg]

Seraphina First Illustration

The guards faltered.

She was going to fight barehanded?

They charged.

And then—

The first four dropped.

Silently. Instantly.

Their heads were gone. Not sliced, not severed—simply gone, erased like chalk from a slate. Their bodies slumped to the ground, bloodless, like puppets with snipped strings.

The remaining six guards stiffened.

They didn’t run.

They wanted to.

But her gaze stopped them—something colossal and cold that stared through flesh and soul alike. They trembled like prey cornered by a predator.

Then, Seraphina smiled. Cold. Curious. Happy.

“Running? Really?”

Her next words were not in any known tongue.

She spoke in the First Language, the voice of the beginning.

ᛞᛟ ᚾᛟᛏ ᚱᚢᚾ. ᚲᛟᛗᛖ ᚨᛏ ᛗᛖ — ᚨᛚᛚ ᛟᚠ ᚣᛟᚢ.

(Do not run. Come at me—all of you.)

The guards’ bodies froze mid-step.

Then moved against their will.

Swords drawn. Screams stifled in their throats.

They charged.

None survived.

Heads crushed. Chests punctured like paper. Some crumbled with wounds that no mortal weapon could’ve delivered. The corridor filled with bodies—silent, mangled, and lifeless.

And Seraphina? Not a hair out of place.

She sighed, pulling out a crisp handkerchief from her apron. Calmly, she wiped the blood from her hands. Crimson stained her sleeves for a second, then evaporated into mist.

She looked at the ruined corridor. “Hm… this won’t do.”

Once more, she spoke in the First Language.

ᛏᚺᛁᛋ ᛈᛚᚨᚲᛖ ᚹᛁᛚᛚ ᛒᛖ ᚲᛚᛖᚨᚾᛖᛞ ᛟᚠ ᛒᛚᛟᛟᛞ. ᚷᛖᛏ ᛟᚢᛏ — ᚨᛚᛚ ᛟᚠ ᚣᛟᚢ.

(This place will be cleaned of blood. Get out—all of you.)

The air vibrated.

Blood vanished from the walls and floors. The broken tiles reassembled. And the corpses—one by one—stood, bowed to her silently, and marched away down the hall in eerie unison, disappearing around the corner like obedient servants.

When all was done, the corridor looked pristine.

Like nothing had happened.

Seraphina placed the handkerchief back in her pocket, smiled, and muttered to herself:

“Now… it’s all good.”