Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

Amidst the fair, fluffy billows of clouds in the sky, Ashtra and Stravwuark flew unbridled and somehow had their telepathic conversation, leaving Nathalie and Jonathan on top of them. 

Keith was behind her, and the twins with Jonathan.

Winds blew so harshly, buzzing off her ears, and rustling the flared cuffs and accentuated mantle of her white and gold satin robe.

For the whole time, Nathalie sat upright, and with the chaotic winds that pushed her now and then, she couldn't help but fight against it, lest she ended up cushioning against Keith's torso.

'Be professional; be professional; be a professional, hoe!' she took a mantra for herself, not to get away with the moment. 'Lead me not into temptation—' A series of a slap across her cheeks came to snap herself out of the crazy fantasy she was about to indulge.

Then, she noticed all of their eyes were on her, with Jonathan having a smug smirk.

'This guy…' Nathalie nibbled her lower lip. 'I know he's pissed but I just want to strangle him—Oh, wait, that didn't come out good.' She had covered her face with his palms taking all the heat. 

"Must we really have to see the changes through?!"

She arched her eyebrows to dangerous heights, then relayed the message to Keith as a response.

"Affirmative, Your Grace."

He then raked his hair, despite the hair locks and fringes waving through the wind current.

'There shouldn't be any harm going in there, after all…' she thought after what she witnessed firsthand.

The changes in her manuscript were rather recent, not even a few days passed and then compared to her e-copy on her phone. It did change, in no way was she caught on the spot. With at least a hit or a speck of magical dust rearranging the letters or any of the shenanigans that would be enough to alarm her.

But none of it happened, it was as though the line got written in the first place. If it was anyone, then people might question their sanity. Fortunately enough, not in her case.

Nathalie then wrote a few words on Keith's arm for him to reply, [Are we about to enter the Western Territory, Keith?]

Meanwhile, he hummed for a while, giving a glance at the forefront, then gave a curt nod. "About several miles ahead, My Lady."

The land beneath them was still lush green forest, with their leaves sprawling out a large canopy, and not even a pint of the ground seen from above.

However, what Nathalie did know was the semi-arid setting that awaited her on what's beyond the viridescent horizon from far afield.

When she thought the flight would still take the time to travel, she shut her eyes, recalling before she even took off from the Imperial Capital.

***

Arnold rubbed his chin as he narrowed his eyes. "So, you lack materials needed from Western Territory? Tell me about it, there's no way this pesky ingredient is not dwelling in my treasury." 

[It's not just a core material, Father. It's a steady procedure that—] She stopped halfway, upon covering her face, she huffed out of frustration. [It's so hard to describe.]

"Dear Mysti, it's alright." He leaned, cooing at her with pats, "I'm patient enough to understand you."

[The description is crazy and bizarre, and it would be hard for you, still. I'd be at least confident you'd know when the final product comes.]

After which, Nathalie then drew the same as the amplifier that got modified when Jonathan dropped it to support her during the tribute.

"Oh, isn't that the big metal booming box with the ensemble cries and crashes into an odd melody?"

When the lady nodded, he couldn't help but turn around at Ashtra, who also reciprocated a confused look on his face.

"My, I didn't think Ashtra would be so into such of music… Perhaps, it might be a choice."

"Are you implying my weird taste in the art of music?" 

"I don't think I've mentioned that—"

"That's what it is!" Ashtra jolted upright on his seat, glaring at him; meanwhile, Arnold turned around and scoffed in silence.

Nathalie sealed her mouth shut, for she was the culprit after all. Though it did kind of hurt to hear such a pop genre would be such a weird taste for him. 

Nevertheless, it was understandable.

"Anyway, Mysti, I don't think the two of them are enough—" Arnold clasped his hands as he grinned. "I should come with you—"

"No!" All of them were in unison, even Nathalie wrote in a snap.

"Why am I surrounded now— even you…" His icy glare bore into Keith's, making him shudder in his stead.

[Father…] She tapped on his arm, grabbing his attention as he beamed a warm smile. [Are you telling me you're abandoning your position as the Grand Duke of the North?]

".... Do I have to? What about him then?!" Arnold rebuked, pointing at Jonathan.

While up to this date, Arnold thought of giving up his wealth and position as he realized what he needed more in this lifetime. But then, she was there to convince him otherwise. 

[I'd appreciate it if you don't. No one can do it better than you up the north.]

His hearty chuckle reverberated the air, giving off such an arrogant vibe. "Look at you, very sweet of you to—" Though he stopped halfway, chastising, "You plan to trick me with mere compliments now, hmm?!"

[I dare not, father. You've always been the best for me.] When she smiled, it was as though Arnold was about to melt. Then, he couldn't stop and gave her a tight hug, almost crushing her frail body with his big, toned arms.

"Mysti, I don't know what to do without you! Oh, sweet child of mine—!"

Nathalie tapped hard on his rigid back so fast, when the embrace tightened, gagging for air.

"My bad…" Arnold cleared his throat, pulling away from her. She rubbed her arms, kneading sometimes, from the stinging pain, but she didn't hate it at all. Then, he continued, "But you know what I'm talking about, right?"

Nathalie wasn't so foreign about the idea of homesick as it was the same for her too. Whenever she was with Arnold, he was an asylum regardless

With that, realization dawned upon her as she wrote a signal to Jonathan.

[A spare smartphone?]

From there, Jonathan gritted his teeth and kneaded his forehead for he got the gist of what she had to do, and perhaps a crash course would do at the moment.