(3rd Person POV)
The casting process for Titanic in Franklindale was in full swing. A steady flow of rising talents and well-known actors had co to audition, each hoping for a role in the next Hellfire blockbuster.
Among them was Abel Bill, a proud-looking actor whose elegance and deanor made him a perfect fit for the role of Caledon Hockley. Though he carried himself with aristocratic confidence, when he learned he had been chosen, all that pride lted away.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he exclaid to his family, "Yes! I’m going to be in a Hellfire movie!" His loved ones erupted into celebration, embracing him with joy.
Abel was a rising star from the Wales Kingdom. Determined to prove himself, he had crossed borders and spent his own savings just to make it to the U.S.E. for the audition. His manager had initially been doubtful, thinking the competition too fierce.
But the mont Abel got the role, that sa manager—overco with excitent—blurted out the news to local dia in Wales. By the ti he realized the slip, it was too late. Headlines had already confird Abel Bill’s casting in Arthur Pendragon’s next movie. Though it breached confidentiality, the announcent thrilled Abel’s modest but devoted fanbase.
Abel wasn’t the only talent chosen. So cast mbers were fresh faces; others, seasoned veterans. But regardless of their background, they all shared one thing—pure excitent at being part of a Hellfire production.
Still, Arthur knew not everyone could be won over by the studio’s reputation.
In his office, he leaned back in his chair, sighing quietly. "Didn’t expect Lady Velmira to be so devoted to the theatre," he muttered. "Convincing her won’t be easy."
Yesterday, Caedan’s report had arrived. Arthur had specifically chosen him for the task, knowing he had personal ties with the reclusive legend. He thought it would be smooth sailing. Clearly, he was wrong.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.
He opened it to see Firfel standing there.
"Firf, good morning," he greeted with a nod.
"Morning," she replied with a soft smile.
Behind her stood Vivienne, her dark hair slightly tousled from sleep.
"Only a good morning for Firfel? What about ?" Vivienne said with a mock pout, plopping onto the sofa.
Arthur chuckled. "Good morning, Vivienne."
Vivienne rolled her eyes. "If I hadn’t said anything, you wouldn’t have."
She crossed her arms. "I know I showed up uninvited two days ago, and I’m not technically part of this project—but seriously, you didn’t even tell about it. I had to find out through the news!"
Arthur and Firfel exchanged glances. Arthur gave a slight shrug as Firfel moved beside her friend, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"It’s not like that, Vivienne," Firfel said gently. "You’re absolutely welco to be part of this. Right, Arthur?"
"Of course," Arthur replied, settling into the opposite sofa with a soft smile.
He spent the morning in easy conversation with the two won. Firfel was like a steady fla—warm, composed, and graceful. Vivienne, on the other hand, was a wildfire—bold, fiery, and full of untad spirit. Her half-demon, half-human lineage showed in every spark of her personality.
Their conversation flowed naturally. Arthur had known these two long enough to fall into rhythm with them, trading quips, sharing updates, and enjoying their company.
An hour passed before the soft ding of a system notification ca from his office computer. He politely excused himself, approached the desk, and read the ssage.
His eyes lit up with surprise. "Lady Velmira finally agreed?"
Firfel and Vivienne turned at once, equally stunned.
"Seriously? I thought she was completely devoted to theatre. Didn’t she say she’d never touch cinema?" Firfel asked, brows furrowed.
"Maybe her heart softened this ti," Vivienne said, crossing her arms. "Or maybe soone persuasive got through."
Arthur smiled faintly. "According to Caedan—the ever-legendary critic—Lady Velmira was swayed by her granddaughter. Apparently, Eilsha convinced her."
He leaned back, shaking his head in mild disbelief. "Whatever the reason, she’s on board. And with that, the Titanic project inches even closer to becoming a reality."
Firfel and Vivienne exchanged a look, then grinned with barely-contained excitent.
---
Three days later, Lady Velmira finally arrived in the U.S.E., Franklindale. Accompanying her were her ever-attentive granddaughter, Eilsha, and her longti friend and confidant, Caedan Aegis.
While Velmira herself ca out of pure curiosity, Eilsha and Caedan brimd with anticipation.
Eilsha could hardly contain her excitent. Though her dream was rooted in the theatre, a part of her had always longed for the world of cinema. And now, she was about to et Arthur Pendragon—the demon director whose na stirred awe across the industry.
As for Caedan, his excitent ca from a different place. He was about to witness the inner workings of Arthur’s set—see the magic behind the curtain before the film ever hit the screen. He’d read the script, but avoided finishing it, preferring to savor the mystery during the actual premiere. Even now, with the opportunity to see everything firsthand, he intended to keep so parts unspoiled.
Their old car rumbled through the streets before pulling into Liberty Port.
The mont they stepped out, a wave of warm sea air and the scent of cargo hit them. The port was alive with movent, but the true centerpiece was unmistakable—the Grand Whale. Towering in the distance, the massive ship drew the attention of onlookers, dia personnel, and dock workers alike. Caras clicked. Reporters whispered. Curious onlookers stared.
Just as they took in the spectacle, a man in a dark suit approached with a clipboard in hand.
"You must be the guests Mr. Pendragon is expecting. Lady Velmira, Lady Eilsha, and the renowned film critic, Caedan Aegis?" he asked with a courteous bow. "Welco."
The trio exchanged glances, but Caedan couldn’t help but beam at the title.
"Well then," he said with a grin. "Lead the way, young man."
They were led up the ramp to the Grand Whale—no longer the rusted relic Falr rembered, but a pristine marvel gleaming under the midday sun.
As they ascended, Falr took in the scent of varnish and fresh timber. "I’ve been on this ship before," she said quietly. "The Grand Whale... But now, it feels different. The scent... the wood slls new."
Caedan chuckled beside her. "That’s because Arthur completely renovated it for this project. It’s practically a new ship at this point."
Falr nodded in agreent. "If I didn’t know better, I’d think this wasn’t the Grand Whale at all."
anwhile, Eilsha’s eyes wandered, wide with wonder. Like a kitten seeing the world for the first ti, she took in the flurry of crew mbers at work—bulky caras mounted on steel rigs, wires carefully arranged, monitors flickering with test footage. Even though it was noon, studio lights illuminated shadowed corners with precision.
"So this is what a movie set feels like..." she whispered in awe.
They made their way deeper into the ship until they reached the elegant first-class dining hall. There, Arthur was already approaching to greet them.
"Arthur," Caedan said with a nod.
Arthur offered a warm smile, then dipped into a graceful bow. "Ladies, welco. I’m Arthur Pendragon. A pleasure to finally et you." He gently took Velmira’s hand and kissed the ring on her finger with old-world charm.
Falr chuckled, clearly amused. "Such a gentleman."
Arthur’s gaze turned to Eilsha, who blushed as their eyes t. Her neck flushed pink, and she looked away, flustered.
Still smiling, Arthur gestured toward the long table. "Before we talk business, how about a al? You arrived just in ti for lunch."
"Don’t mind if I do," Caedan said, already eyeing the spread.
Velmira and Eilsha followed without protest. Arthur took the opportunity to introduce them to the cast.
A few actors lit up with surprise upon recognizing Lady Velmira. But to Arthur’s quiet amusent, the majority were more starstruck by Caedan Aegis. The legendary film critic quickly found himself surrounded, engaged in eager conversation.
Eilsha noticed how her grandmother was being quietly overlooked—and it made her heart sink.
But Falr didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. Instead, her attention remained fixed on Arthur. She took a sip of water, then said calmly, "So... what made you want to make a film about ships and the sea?"
Her tone was direct but not unkind. "You already know I’m not fully committed to joining your production. I want to understand why this story matters to you. And whether this film set can be as fulfilling as the theatre."
Arthur took a sip of his drink, his eyes thoughtful. He knew what she ant. He understood that the theatre’s magic lay in its imdiacy, the breath of the audience pressing on the actors.
"I want to spark people’s interest in history," Arthur said. "Most don’t even know the Titan Ship existed, let alone what happened to it. Through this film, I hope to bring that forgotten tragedy back into public consciousness."
Falr listened, her expression unreadable.
"And," Arthur continued, "I believe this film can offer sothing even more imrsive than the stage."
He leaned in slightly, his voice growing more animated. "The ship will sail for real. The cast, from leads to extras, will feel the sway of the sea beneath their feet. When we film the sinking—when the water rushes in and the ship truly goes under—the actors won’t be pretending. They’ll be experiencing it. The emotion will be real."
He chuckled lightly. "And that’s what I want to capture."
Upon hearing those words, Falr’s eyes widened in disbelief. Even in all her years on stage, she had never imagined sothing so outrageous. ’Is he actually saying... he’s going to sink the ship? For real? For a movie?’ the thought echoed in her mind, stunned.
Arthur leaned forward, his tone softening. "And you, as Old Rose, will be on this ship. You’ll recount the story while physically returning to the setting of her mory. You’ll be there—watching your younger self from the sidelines. Feeling it. Breathing it. Witnessing the chaos unfold around you as you narrate."
He paused.
"And that... that will bring sothing no theatre stage ever could: the past becoming real again."
Falr sat still, silent—processing the strange thrill rising in her chest.
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