Adila!

Ten, eleven, twelve.

Thirteen.

That is the lesson of the Dragon’s Clock, its method and its means. It was made for you by devils, perhaps not you in the specific, but for the dragon who would be standing here right now. Time and dragons and old stories, clocks and time woven from the hungry void at the beginning of everything, with this moment and this place as its anchoring point.

What came next? What did you do in the moments just beyond this one, this slivering, this fire-on-the-heart?

There's some deep dark instinct, even still, that says: Hoard! You've learned a secret and now it's yours. There's a kind of pleasure that goes with letting thoughts pass unarticulated, in keeping your head closed and your secrets closed - a feeling that makes board games and bargain shopping and shadowy lurking feel right. But Adila has been raised better; all along the thread of time is the lesson that the nature of humanity is to share information.

If she wants to fit into this community - and she does, and she's surprised how permanent that thought feels even on the brink of all this change - then it is her duty to share what she knows.

+Master, I have an observation on the nature of time,+ she said, approaching the Clockmaster.

Kazelia!

“Now, of course I don’t want to cause a diplomatic incident with the mighty and august Protectorate,” Rita says, so smug that you’re smothered in the purr she’s only barely suppressing. “So I’d be happy to let you and your ‘consort’ go with only a minor concession.” You feel the flustered shiver run through Kyouko from her tail to her head, and intuit the twitch twitch of her fuzzy ears. “So go ahead and admit that cats rule and foxes, in fact, drool.”

“Hrrrrmph,” Kyouko snoots through a mouthful of Rita’s crocheted socks. “Nffff!”

“Don’t they teach you e-heh-low-kyu-shun in the archipelago?” Rita says in her snootiest fox impression. “Speak clearly, your grace! Use your words, not your vixenish wiles!”

Kyouko’s fingers are intertwined with yours, her left hand holding your right, and she gives you an excited squeeze. You squeeze back. You can’t see Rita, being faced away from her, tied back to back with Kyouko, but the energy in the room is electric and exciting and... warm. Because everyone in the room knows that the silly rivalries are silly, that if feelings get hurt there’ll be honest apologies, and that you are safer here than you could possibly have imagined...

And that’s when the door opens.

***

Alina!

Your escape was daring and perilous, the two of you ducking into shadows and crawling past sentries, not to mention doing your best not to attract any attention between Shazari’s mansion (she has a mansion, and a Jedadi tent complex inside its courtyard) and the House of Hospitality.

Rhyza stole a hooded cloak for you, and kept one possessive hand on your shoulder as she guided you through the streets, softly rubbing you through the linen. Only that cloak stood between you and an undignified reveal! Luckily, it seemed like nobody was out on the streets tonight, but you were sure you’d just die of embarrassment if the wind blew the cloak back in the middle of the street.

But no. You clambered into the House of Hospitality using a side window, and crept over to Rita’s room. You’re not going to let your great-grandma see you like this, and borrowing some of your girlfriend’s clothes is much better. Besides, if Rita’s in, you could introduce her to Rhyza, maybe the three of you could hang out and play games tonight, like spin the bottle, or eating Konkon pocky, or “captives’ charades,” the game of muffled explanations...

The lights are on, and you hear Rita inside. Thank goodness! You open the door, dramatically throw back the cloak, and sigh with relief. Then you notice that Kazelia, Kyouko and Rita are all staring at you. Your girlfriend’s eyes are stuck on your top, and she is going as red as an apple, her tail bushing up and her eyes going as big as if she had just seen a mouse.

And that’s when Rhyza prods you forward. “Brought you another prisoner, your highness,” she says. “She’s an excellent dancer, and wonderful at... singing.”

R-Rhyza!!!

***

Adila!

“Once you break something, you can’t go back and unbreak it?” That, from a young goblin bravo, his hair styled upwards and his mustache expertly curled, wearing a suit best described as “pocketwatch chic.”

“Perhaps not,” the Clockmaster of the Golden Hour says, mildly. They’re one of the milder, more mainstream Igniters, the kind of Igniter who tries to help others find enlightenment too. “But you can use the moment of its wholeness inside you to turn the wheel and make it whole once more. You cannot erase the moment in which it shattered, but it may not be broken forever.”

The goblin rebuked, the Clockmaster turns back to you. Their hair is silver and glowing faintly in the moonlight, and the pale, luminous light of the clocks. “I am listening,” they say, softly. “Please share what you have seen.”

And with that invitation, you don’t just have their ear. Every Igniter in the plaza is paying attention to you, waiting to see if you make an insightful observation that they can meditate over for a fashionable period of time or an inane “baby’s first timepiece” commentary on impermanence. But the Clockmaster’s smile is gentle and inviting as they wait and listen.

Alina is frozen in time. One foot forward, one hand out, halfway through a normal stride and either not daring or not able to finish it and follow through to the next one. The look of relief on her face got halfway to manic before it stuck there, probably forever, so now she's just sort of grinning like a complete buffoon. Her blush is a near perfect match to Rita's, for whatever that's worth.

Ourania above, why doesn't anything ever go the way she plans it?

Somebody coughs. Tick tock, the spell unravels; time resumes. Alina squeaks and she hops and nnnf! Rhyza! Rhyyyyzaaaaaa! Give her back that cloack, Rhyza! Give it give it give it! But every twist and graceful leap is defeated by the skill and speed that makes Rhyza such a great mercenary. Also, the extremely unfair fact that her arms can reach unfairly high. Alina lands, cloakless, spins on the balls of her feet and... notices Rita. She smiles.

Alina's dance tonight is a mix of Illuminan ballet and Jedadi belly dancing. Most of her audience has seen the latter already and she can't afford to look stale now can she? So she twirls and she rises onto the points of her toes as she stretches her leg all the way over her head before bending back down like water over rocks, and sensually rocking her hips. Step, step, shimmy. She rolls her petite princess tummy all for her Rita before she pivots, turns, step one two and step one two and pose!

Her foot snakes out and up, slowly lifting her smooth, bare leg up and closer, closer, closer to Rita, toward her stomach, and then... oh so gently... nudges her love into a chair. She makes a show of bending down to pick up a silk scarf that hasn't made its way into the evening's activities yet, and wraps it around her shoulders. She shimmies and she waves the scarf almost like her battle ribbon, but always pulls it close against her again and lets it kiss every inch of exposed skin bit by bit. She circles around behind Rita's chair, wraps the scarf around her, and pulls. Snug and safe and gentle, across her stomach, over her chest, tickling her chin, draping over her eyes.

Alina bends impossibly over the chair and sets herself neatly in Rita's lap, reaching up with one hand to run fingers through her girlfriend's hair while the other sensually traces the line of her jaw. She leans in and kisses her softly, right on the lips, then leans out again and lets her fingers tease their way across Rita's face once more.

"Rita?" she purrs, "My heart, my light, my summer song, my pretty little kitty? O sweet end of my rainbow, my darling sunbeam, dearest love of my life? I see that you're... busy, but may I pleeeeeeeaaaase borrow a change of clothes? I was hoping to properly introduce you to my friend tonight~"

Dearly gathered princesses (and Desert Queens), I ask you: is there any sight in the world more beautiful, more precious, or indeed more dangerous than the look of a princess trying to charm the pants off of her lover? Or, for that matter, onto herself?

+It's...+ Adila tries to articulate a thought which almost seems simplistic once she has to give voice to it. +The mechanism by which the clocks read the future. It seems to me that they can do this because, if viewed from the correct angle, past and future are adjacent to each other. The clocks are circles inside circles and the hands move independently... The past is next to the future and they're always informing each other and they flow into each -+

The words broke off, and the next phrasing was filled with a strange clarity. +I think that time is better modeled by the processes of thought than the processes of a straight line.+

Kazelia gasps when Alina and Rhyza walk in, and she too blushes deeply. That is...quite...an outfit. She squeezes Kyouko's hand to let her know that, um, she's not sure exactly, that's she's having a good time and cares about her and she shouldn't get jealous of Kazelia's reaction to Alina but also it would be fine if Kyouko tried on that dress at some point, you know, maybe, if she wanted to. It's a very complex and nuanced hand squeeze!

Then, everything is going great and Rita is the center of everyone's attention. What a good thing that she was victorious in the little battle with Kyouko. This could have really escalated quickly if Alina and the very tall Jedadi mercenary had walked in on Kyouko in the middle of a villainous monologue about the three person KonKon wedding she'd be throwing with Rita tied up in a tiny tuxedo and Kazelia with a long lace veil trailing down nearly to the floor with little flowers sewn all along the seams.

Yes, everything is fine.

Adila!

When you come back to the House of Hospitality, the world is vivid all around you. The soft sigh of the wind, the rustling of the leaves in the courtyard, the washed-out colors under the moonlight... some moments you know you're going to remember for the rest of your life. There are thin places where your timestream touches your heart, where past and future meet and there is only an eternal moment you can come back to, over and over again.

Some of them are terrible, like the moment you choked on Oberon's hands as his cold fingers clenched around your heart. But more are like this moment, in which all things are impressing themselves upon you, important in their existence. So much is just waves on the shore, broken and washed away, but moments like these are stable. Maybe one day you will be in the midst of something completely different, something you could never imagine right now, but in that moment you will blink and then suddenly be here again, hearing the sound of delighted laughter.

You wander closer to it, returning to your gangly teens: an age for laughter and showing off and being included. Alina's high, clear laugh, like the peal of a bell, sneaks out underneath the door. Then you hear Kyouko's snooty laugh, likely with a hand held close to her mouth, and a low, sultry chuckle you don't recognize. The desire to be included burns brightly in your young heart, and you knock on the door.

It's only a moment before it's swung open wide by Kazelia's magic. There, on the floor, on scattered cushions, sit a bunch of princesses in varying levels of distress, with a pack of Askaian Tarot sitting dead in the center. They're playing Peril Poker, the game of dares and bluffs and scarves, which you have never ever ever been good at. But there's something about tonight...

"Hey," Rita chirps. She's lying on the bed, head dangling off the foot, next to Alina, who's wearing the cutest little Askaian outfit (with floral embroidery, and pompoms on her skirt, and cat-ear stockings!). Then she actually gets a look at you. Everyone sits up a little straighter as you enter the room, large but fitting perfectly, and take a seat next to Kazelia.

+Deal me in.+

***

Prince Cassian!

This really should have been Azora's job. The rank unfairness of it all is worrying at you like a small and very disagreeable puppy. The Amulet of Sarcosis lying on your chest is a dull, aching weight, and you just know you're going to have a monstrous headache at the end of all this. But it's necessary for Father to have his army. His last army. It's just you, him, and a bunch of rancid magical sea crabs, here at the end of everything.

This wasn't the plan. This wasn't the plan at all. Azora was supposed to come back with the magical doohickey, deliver it to Father, and then he would march into Argossa through a magical portal and an army of Riders at his back, to deliver his proposal to the High Queen more forcefully. But everything kept getting pared away from that plan, the army and the portal and the flower decorations, and now you're stuck on the Folding Ship of Frossa with a whimpering witch tied to the mast and your Father's entire arsenal hidden below decks, and an entire armada of hideous black crab shells swimming after you.

Father sniffs the air, and then twitches a finger. The ship comes to a dead stop. +Stop, you idiots,+ you growl out to the Garthim, and as one they fall still, bobbing in the waves like awful jetsam. You examine your nails, leaning against the railing, while Father begins dragging magic out of the screaming witch. Ugh. She's loud. Why didn't he use one of those gags that are so dreadfully common here? Probably because it's more fun this way, but he's not the one with a leaden weight on his chest and a direct line to a bunch of braindead constructs, now is he?

Ahead of the ship, wards begin bursting apart like fireworks, and the ship lurches forward. +Follow!+ No sooner do you give the order than an arrow made entirely of light hisses past your face, lodging in a bulkhead as you squeal and drop to the deck. +PROTECT ME!+

Garthim surge forwards onto the jetty-- is it a jetty? A dock? The place where the boat stops. But that just gives you feedback bursting through your skull as they begin to be blasted apart by the half-dozens. Father can you please do something about that? On cue, he raises a knife to the witch's throat. "Ourania, my dearest," he says, over your dignified groans. "Drop your silly weapons. That's no way to greet your future husband." His voice becomes harsher, and you flinch on instinct. "Do it before I lose patience."

You don't even register the clatter of metal on the dock until Father nudges you with his boot. You get one nudge, and so you gather your rattled wits. +Seize her!+ Garthim claws close around her, and it's almost like holding her yourself. You get a sense of... not exhaustion. Someone recovering from a cold, maybe, and still tired and dizzy. But it's enough to hold her.

Father smiles, and that's your cue to poke your head up and provide a backup smile at the haughty, arrogant woman. Her jaw's set so defiantly, even surrounded by those stupid stinking crabs, and if anyone else but your Father was standing against her... well, maybe you'd be a little scared. But who cares? You've won! "Now. Let's discuss the wedding arrangements, love."

Princesses!

The Pear isn't as cutting-edge as Eska's airship, but it's luxurious and equipped with everything you might need to save Hyperborea. Outside of the golden portholes, snow swirls.

It hasn't stopped snowing in the past day. Not since you woke up after the best sleepover in the history of sleepovers, and saw heavy, dark clouds blotting out the sky, and snowdrifts being cleared away by giddy denizens of the Bazaar, who saw it as money falling out of the sky. Maybe they'd change their mind if it never stopped. But it's going to stop. That's what you're here to do.

Even from this distance, you can see the dark veins of exposed crystal heartwood in Argossa. Oberon has done something to the very heart of the world, and Ourania... hasn't stopped him. That means you have to assume the worst. And you have to hit him hard and fast before he can... you have to assume the wards are down. Probably. It's going to be a very short flight if they're still up.

The CREW ROSTER of the Pear includes:

• CAPTAIN Adila II
• FIRST MATE Kazelia Swiftlance
• CHIEF ENGINEER Hornet
• COOK Dandelion
• CHIEF RATTER Rita von Catabas
• QUARTERMASTER Kyouko
• CHIEF OF O-PEAR-ATIONS Alina Cascade, Who Did Not Pick The Name
• SHIP'S SORCERESS Azora Howl
• CHIEF OF SECURITY Jessamine Cascade

What preparations are you all making during the last estimated hour of approach?

Something, somewhere, was wrong.

Late in the night of the Watch party they'd done Deductions - attempts to read as many personal details off strangers as possible in the style of hero detectives in novels. Brill had cleaned up, of course and he'd taken the time to dunk on Adila while doing so - "you've spent so long doing princess work you've forgotten how to pay attention to your surroundings". And then he'd picked her pocket. Bastard.

He'd been right, though. Everything in her brain had been too noisy lately - so many new places, so much heartache and heartbreak and heartrealization. In the Bazaar where things had been quiet it had felt like she'd had scope to expand her mind outwards until her thoughts could soak into the fabric of the city. Becoming so used to the rhythms and flows of the place that she could sniff trouble like a shark princess. She hadn't had a mind quiet enough to do that since...

Well, the when hardly mattered any more.

She was surprised that now of all times she was noticing the feeling. Here, on the Pear, when she should be coping with the complicated feelings that came with being a Captain or stressing about the final battle with Oberon and saving the world... instead all she had was this constant sense that something wasn't right. It was almost the same sense she had when Hornet visited the Bazaar - a warning that today was going to be an overtime day. Maybe there was some trick of Oberon's at work?

She prowled the ship. Around the engine deck. She knew she should be preparing, but...

Kazelia had a bad feeling when she saw the snowfall. She didn't think Oberon would have been able to penetrate Argossa that quickly. Certainly not in the face of Ourania resisting him, without the Caduceus or most of his children. Which meant he'd pulled out some kind of trick or cheat. And, if Ourania had let it happen, that almost certainly meant that she was doing it to stall for time, knowing that this crew would come save her. It was a heavy burden. While she felt confident that they could face her Father and win, she wasn't sure how much work the repairs were going to be, or how much harm he could cause before they got there. So, she was urging them forward.

As first mate, navigation fell to her, which did make sense considering she had the best overview of Argossa out of everyone present. She had toured it longer and flown above it in spiritual form. She was confident that the wards weren't up, she'd have felt some kind of magical warning if there were. Even so, she wasn't looking for a landing point so much as an ingress. Whatever could get them into the upper levels of Argossa as fast as possible.

She had to admit though, she had been expecting some kind of very large but not too giant serpent to at least accompany them on the way in if not try to block their passage. This suggested that Ourania was expecting them or that the tree's defenses were distracted. Maybe both.

Regardless, Kazelia gave the wheel a spin and set course for the branches of Argossa head on.

A pink scarf goes fluttering across the room from inside the closet door. It lands without fanfare near a pile of other clothes: a black satin skirt, a sleeveless blue blouse made from crushed velvet, Alina's suit from the Labazaar, and a frankly terrifying amount of jewelry. Rita sits on the bed quietly, watching the pile grow while she rests her chin on her hand and flicks her tail back and forth with a quiet fwump fwump whenever it hits the mattress. She leans slightly to one side to dodge an errant ball of socks.

"Aha!" Alina cheers.

With a cheer and a tiny, triumphant hop, the Chief of O... the Princess of Illumina emerges back into the room holding a pair of delicately strappy high heeled shoes with open toes. She bounds gleefully over to the bed in just three steps and flops down between Rita and the, erm, the discard pile.

"Finally! I was beginning to worry I wasn't going to be able to make this work!"

She grins, but Rita doesn't return the favor. Well, she does, she smiles. But it's a weird, 'hey there it's ok, I'm here for you' kind of smile, and not the sort of mischief-kitten look Alina was expecting. Her smile falls away to a surprised huff, and she pops back up onto her feet with graceful ease.

"So, um!" she sos and ums, "I've been thinking. When this is all... wow, we're really doing it, huh? So when we, I mean if we, that is, I was wondering..."

"Hm?"

"Well, you know! I mean!" Alina's pacing back and forth while she talks now. The shoes are in a constant state of swapping back and forth between her hands, "It's just. No, it's stupid of me to even ask. Of course you'll be going home. Of course you will. You have to. I would be mad if you didn't. You haven't seen your father or your sister since you left, and your mother just at the Gala. Of course you'll go back. Your island needs you."

Alina's halfway back to the closet before she realizes the shoes are already in her hands. She pivots on her toes and glides over to a porthole instead only to glimpse snow, swallow nervously, and double back to the middle of the room. Her smile is borderline manic.

"Because you know, I mean I know you know, but I... can't come with you. Illumina is in shambles right now. And you all stopped me from... I mean, I had to put the Caduceus down before I was able to fix anything. So it's back to doing everything the old fashioned way. It's a shame I'm such a mess with glasswork, huh? Maybe Freesia should be Princess-Promised, hahaha."

She's got one shoe in each hand now, and she's swinging them back and forth as she sways from side to side with very precise and fluid awkwardness. Her smile isn't quite making it all the way to her eyes. She reaches up and almost smacks her head on a heel trying to touch one of them. They still feel too soft. They still don't feel real. Stupid. It's stupid to feel guilty about having her eyes back. She tries again at smiling, maximum effort this time.

"What's he even got left, anyway? We stopped him from getting the Caduceus. We've won over or captured all of his daughters. I bet he'll have to burn through whatever treasures he's got left just to reach Ourania! And, you know, besides... I've got Gold now. I'm ready. This time I'm ready for him. It won't be like before. This time it's really it. We're going to do it. That's why I've been thinking about... you know, this is it. We're doing it. Stopping Oberon is the last job for our team up. Beating him's the last thing that you and I and Kazelia and Adila get to do together."

Alina turns her back to the bed and prances over to a mannequin set up in the corner of the room. She sets the shoes down carefully underneath it. After a moment she bends down again to fiddle with them, making tiny adjustments until she's satisfied. She takes a couple of steps back and nods to herself. She's set the shoes down under a beautiful white silk dress laced with gold trim and chains looping about little diamond starburst patterns. Almost like snowflakes. But not. Not. They're stars. The hem of the dress reaches down to shins, with a long slit cup all the way up the right side to the top of her thigh. The waist cinches tight with a ruffled sash, the same color white, while a pretty golden ribbon is tied into a bow just underneath the bust, where it will lift and draw attention to some... often forgotten features. Sparkling petal sleeves trail all the way down to the elbows, and around the neck there's a simple glass chain made with tiny links in the traditional seven colors.

That's the only splash of color in the whole ensemble. This is, after all, a dress for attending a wedding. Illuminan guests always wore white, the joining of all the colors as one, to symbolize hope for the lucky couple. The true colors were always left to the betrothed. It was like gifting them a rainbow.

"No, no, these shoes don't work at all! Who stocked this stupid ship, anyway?"

She sighs and tosses them carelessly into the pile, already halfway back to the closet. For some reason, this felt really important to get right. Every detail has to be perfect. From now until the very last moment.

Adila!

The engine room is filled with more gold. The engine that keeps you afloat is a huge, sprawling, hulking thing, made by goblin artifice, bound with the magic of the winds, and then decorated by Jedadi sensibilities; the levers and runes are so bejeweled, an enterprising thief could get away with stripping it down and then live like a queen for the rest of her life. And it's here that you find Hornet, wearing a simple leather apron and her goggles, disassembling the engine. She's got her tools spread out on the floor, her spiky hair covered by a handkerchief, and her arms are elbow-deep in the mechanisms as she tries to... well, presumably improve it. Or add a turbo mode. Or make it powered by applause. Who ever knows what Hornet's thinking?

When you enter, she stiffens, but doesn't otherwise acknowledge you. She picks up a wrench and starts loosening a bolt holding a panel over the crystal matrix, her cow-tail agitatedly twitching. And that's it. Grim silence. Not even an invitation to BEHOLD, or a victorious cackle, or a request to hold one of her tools for her. Maybe it's because she knows she was caught in the act of messing with the thing keeping you up in the air while you're up in the air.

She defiantly pulls the panel off and shoves it at you.

***

Alina!

"When we get married, do you think we'll do the summer-and-winter?" Rita can't even look at you when she says it. She's got her little hands in her lap and her cheeks are red and she's studying the window so, so intently. And her question... she's suggesting an old tradition for married queens. Summer in one kingdom, winter in the other. But how she says it! Like it's not even a question that you're going to get married. Of course you are. Of course you are. "Because, um, I know you always liked summer back home, and I love seeing Ilumina in the snow, and... and I do need to go home, but... mew!"

She shrinks in on herself and becomes a beautiful, sleek cat again, and wiggles into the blankets on the bed, all of her courage used up in the question. In a moment, only her twitching tail is visible. It's so cute. But you're already trying not to melt on the spot, aren't you?

You're already imagining waking up on a balmy summer morning with incense hanging in the air, in that Askaian glow which suggests your dreams will come true before your very eyes, holding your Rita in your arms as you lie on a bamboo mat together. You're imagining snowball fights with your wife in a proper Iluminan winter, and any memories of the Rider occupation would be soothed by her laughter and the sight of her bundled up in a giant poofy coat. You're imagining proposing, right here, right now. Aren't you?

***

Kazelia!

"It would be a shame to waste your father's wedding preparations, you know." Kyouko's suddenly there, smiling so smugly. She wraps her tail around your forearms and taps her fan underneath your chin. "How would you like to be married by the High Queen herself? I'll show you the glories of a Konkon wedding: how you'll hop so gracefully down the aisle, how the High Queen will look so radiant in her harness, how you'll be prodded by the traditional bamboo spears, how I'll shower you in cherry blossoms after you're asked if you'll submit to me in happiness and misfortune alike and you nod your agreement..." She laughs, holding one hand up to the side of her mouth, and it's hard to tell whether she's just trying to get a rise out of you, flirting in her people's way, or actually proposing.

That's when you notice the figure standing on the tea platform at the very top of Argossa. You jerk the wheel desperately to one side, knowing that it's already too late. This thing maneuvers like a lazy cow, and all of your maneuvers have to be planned well in advance. It's already useless. Which means you need to get Azora to do something. Or announce it over the ship's speakers so that everyone has a chance to brace themselves.

He's supposed to be preparing the wedding!

***

Oberon.

The wind kisses your hair as you stand beneath the storm. Your storm; you conjured it up using the Seven-Tempest Horn. The sun and moon will not be interrupting your wedding to your beautiful beloved, and neither will these frustrating princesses. At every turn they defy you and tie your plans in knots, and you are tired of indulging them. Coddling them. Letting them remain unpunished for their misbehavior.

You draw back the string of Blinding, and the eclipse-bow groans terribly. Even this terrible weapon cannot withstand your titanic strength, stolen from the Grandmothers of Devilhome. You will have to strike true; you will only have the one shot. Already, the pilot is attempting to turn aside, but it's useless. You are Oberon Greymane, the Hunter in the Dark, the King of the Riders, immortal and invulnerable, new king of this pathetic world.

You let fly, and Blinding splinters into a dozen quivering pieces in your hands. The eclipse-shot howls out, and strikes the airship dead on; for a moment, there is a terrible thirsty silence, and then a vast explosion of hungry darkness undoes the ship, causing rips and rents in metal and fabric alike, unweaving every part of artifice, stunning those inside and taking their senses. Debris begins to fall, a confused cloud of raw materials and furnishings and limp bodies.

You turn, and proceed down the stairs. You will tell Cassian to have the constructs gather up any fortunate survivors, if there even are any. Knowing the luck of these wretched princesses, there will be. But even this will be for your glory.

After all, you still have room for bridesmaids in the ceremony.

Part of Adila is, of course, screaming. Every interaction she's had with Hornet using technology has been a disaster, she has no sense of priority or scale, the responsible thing to do is to physically remove her from the engine room until there's a problem serious enough to roll the dice over...

But she doesn't do that. She just stands there holding the panel like a big dork. An awkward silence as she tries to find the thoughts. +Hey. Princess Hornet,+ she thought awkwardly. +So... um...+

She's got no idea where she's going with this. Hornet very clearly isn't being careless. She wasn't careless last time either, with the drill... or in the castle... or in the Bazaar. There's a grim motion to her work, no laughter, not even a smile.

When was the last time she saw her smile?

She hovers half in the doorway, holding that panel like it's a wall she doesn't know how to climb.

*

There's a terrible moment of vindication when everything explodes.

She moves like black lightning, all the uncertainty collapsing back into instinct. She crosses the engine deck faster than fire, snatching up Hornet without losing a second of momentum before crashing through the hull to the open air beyond. Her wings expand to catch the breeze but instead are filled with razor darkness and only then does Adila realize that Hornet isn't to blame for this.

She folds up, tumbles, dives, tries her best to power through the shadows. She's an obsidian comet with a trail of autumn fire fabric in her wake.

Kazelia blushes and tries very hard not to giggle when Kyouko's tail wraps around her. It is an extremely bushy tail, possibly the bushiest tail, though she'd not want to start a Konkon civil war over the topic. She blushes even harder at the idea of a proposal. Oh gosh, could she?! Would she?! Was she ready?! Was it even fair to consider such a relationship? And to be all trussed up in front of Ourania to boot. She wasn't going to be the only one wearing the ropes in this relationship! But then, would it be uncouth to include magically tying up her own bride during the Konkon wedding ceremony? So many questions! She was almost ready to answer when she saw the figure atop the mountain, and her voice sank to a deep "oh no" instead as she slammed the wheel as far to port as she could manage.

"Everyone this is your first-mate" she called from the wheel, using the ship's magic and her own to broadcast across the entire interior and deck. "Brace for impact!"

*****

Kazelia was already off the ship by the time Oberon's bolt struck it. As soon as she'd set the wheel, she had leaped into the air and onto Shiva's back. It had been too long and she was not leaving her pegasus behind again. She'd pulled Kyouko up with her, but alas Shiva couldn't hold onto everyone. Even as the ship was struck by the black bolt, Shiva flew ahead and Kazelia set her girlfriend down on the stone branches, perched against the wall out of sight from the clifftop in case Oberon came to inspect his handiwork. Kazelia looked back out to see if there was anything she could do. Adila had shot out of the ship like a bolt, it looked like with Hornet. She scanned for Alina and Rita, Shiva might be fast enough to catch them if they were falling.

"Rita..."

Alina's heart pounds staccato in her chest. Her whole body is tingling. She just ran a race up and down and back up Big Hill. She just swallowed bees. She just... oh, rivers. Rain on a wedding day! This is not! How she planned this! At all! It's too soon! She had the whole thing planned out, ok? She'd already asked Freesia to make the ring, and even managed to get it delivered a couple of hours before she had to board the (ugh) Pear. Such a pretty thing, the delicate silver band set with colored glass arranged into the traditional Rainbow Promise Knot, but with little chips of amethyst set at the top to look like little cat ears. And to really drive the point home, she'd also taken the time, secretly over the course of the last three weeks and change, to weave an Askaian Wish Band in as many different colors of yarn as she could find. It just wasn't quite finished yet, she didn't have the grasses she needed to entwine in it for it to be right, that's why she was hoping to wait...

But you don't get to be a Princess and not know what it looks like when The Moment is happening. Bzzip! Indigo shoots out and hooks the discarded shoes back into her hands. They're fine, they're perfect, actually, she just. Need to. Eep! Hurry! She sheds her clothes so fast you'd think they jumped off of her. Orange and Green lift her dress off the mannequin and float it over top of her. She lifts her arms and lets them slip it gently but quickly into place. Violet and Orange adjust the skirt, tie the ribbons, zip the back, adjust the bust, arrange the necklace, and all the other little touches while Yellow guides Blue, and Red through weaving her hair into a tight four-plaited braid with carefully careless messy curls for bangs. She dabs the pink lipstick on herself. Quick, spin! Mirror check! Is she ok? Good enough! Now sit!

Alina still takes the time to mess with the front of her hair a little more. Come on, just... ok! She smiles like an idiot at the little lump under the blankets. Pat pat pat! She teases the mattress just in front of Rita, suppressing a giggle when she sees her adorable tail start flicking eagerly. Pat pat pat! Swish swish! Her fingers dance a teasey little beat on the blankets and her hand wiggles back and forth, oh-so-chaseable and good for catching! And biting! Come on, darling, catch the fishy! Underneath the blankets, tiny paws keep trying to catch her hand. The sound of huntress chirps sings just for her. Alina pats and wiggles further up, waiting, teasing, up! Up! Turning her girlfriend around and leading her toward the pillows until... aha! She snaps both hands out and grabs those naughty little paws, scoops her Rita up and sets her on her lap. Chin rubs! Engagement chin rubs for Rita von Catabas!

Deep breath, Alina. You've got this. She brushes Rita's fur, caressing all of the nerves and embarrassment out of her beautiful kitty princess. One more deep breath. Be romantic. Lead slowly.

"If we did the Summer-and-Winter," she says with an unnecessary degree of elocution, "I would want it to be Winter/Spring and Summer/Autumn. Because the traditional way is so... huh? What was that?"

***

Alina falls in darkness. Tumbling, twisting, clutching at the tatters of her moment and finding nothing but the shrieking air.

She has no sense of time right now. No sense of place. Her eyes sting in the darkness. Her only feeling is of falling. Maybe this is her heart? Maybe she messed up, after all. She must have messed up. If she hadn't, her world wouldn't have turned into falling.

Down she goes, indistinguishable from the rest of the useless debris of the ship. Nothing but a flailing, screaming mess. The water rushes up to meet her like a scorned friend with a grudge to settle. For an instant, her body pulses in gold.

SMACK! SPLOOSH!

The world is freezing, flowing water now. Alina sinks beneath the surface with her lungs already used up from screaming. The currents push and pull her as they will, pulling at her pretty dress and tugging on her braided hair, and pushing on her chest, and...

Rita!

Alina's eyes snap open. Her lights are swirling all around her. There are shapes down here, but none of them are... where is she? Where is she?! There's no time for this. She cuts through the water like a dolphin with a knife and leaps above the waves for a moment with the grace of a shark. Her lungs fill with air that's laced with the fetid stench of the Garthim. She doesn't care; this breath is only for screaming.

"RITA! RITA WHERE ARE YOU, I CAN'T... RITA!!"

She turns her head desperately this way, then that. Her eyes slash across the flotsam in search of the only treasure on board worth saving. She fills herself with the stinking air twice more. Once to call her name again.

And twice to dive back down into danger. She has to find her. Has to! This can't...

This can't be how her moment ends.

Adila!

You crash down onto the roots, clinging Hornet tightly to your chest. Your ears are ringing, full of destruction and the not-sound of that terrible explosion, and there's for a moment nothing to see when you turn back and look at the sea, just inky shadows covering up the collapse, blotting out everything. No, wait, you do see something, as your eyes start to cut through even that magical night: the ink-black shells of the Garthim sliding into the water. If anyone else survived... they'll soon be in Oberon's hands. But you haven't been noticed.

Or at least you haven't yet. That'll change if Hornet starts crying, which she is threatening to do, sniffling and gasping with a hoarse throat, tucking her knees up to her chest and slowly rocking back and forth. "I didn't mean to do it," she whimpers.

Oh. Hornet.

***

Kazelia!

The ruin of the ship's fall is choked with darkness. Only Adila could have a chance of seeing what's going on. You were lucky to get out when you did; if you dived back in now, you'd end up running into a bulkhead or a splintered crate face-first.

You turn back, and see Kyouko pressed up against the overhang of the stairs, giving you a Look. A very intense Look. And you see why: because the Garthim haven't noticed her yet. These things... the only weapon you had that could have pierced their awful shells was broken by Eska. Fighting them is useless; if they get their claws on you, you're as good as a prisoner.

You have Shiva, you have a hidden fox, and you know that these things are being directed by someone. Maybe, just maybe, if you can find their controller... you can save your friends. Or at least stop your Father from ordering them to drown your friends. Which he has almost certainly done.



***

Alina!

The Garthim are drawn to you. Perhaps they see your light? The debris falls on you; an entire couch, the ship's wheel, Azora's luggage. But you burn golden.

Rita is gone. Everyone is gone. Adila is gone. Kazelia is gone. You are alone.

Oberon has taken everything from you.

But you burn golden.

Do you let that fire die, drowned in despair? Or do you embrace it and fan it into an inferno of fury?

Adila!

You crash down onto the roots, clinging Hornet tightly to your chest. Your ears are ringing, full of destruction and the not-sound of that terrible explosion, and there's for a moment nothing to see when you turn back and look at the sea, just inky shadows covering up the collapse, blotting out everything. No, wait, you do see something, as your eyes start to cut through even that magical night: the ink-black shells of the Garthim sliding into the water. If anyone else survived... they'll soon be in Oberon's hands. But you haven't been noticed.

Or at least you haven't yet. That'll change if Hornet starts crying, which she is threatening to do, sniffling and gasping with a hoarse throat, tucking her knees up to her chest and slowly rocking back and forth. "I didn't mean to do it," she whimpers.

Oh. Hornet.

It's jarring to think that Hornet came to the same conclusion she did. Adila was so used to thinking of Hornet as careless at best, to hear that... self-recrimination in her voice tilted her. She identified this as a failure. How many times had she been blamed for failures and accidents? Adila... knew a thing or two about what that was like.

+Shh, shh, it's okay,+ Adila thought, trying to keep the thoughts brief and hurried so they didn't reach out to the oily shapes of the Garthim. +We've got to go, it's okay,+ she wished she could focus. This wasn't the time to be in the open - whatever had shot them out of the sky was still out there, and taking the fight to the Garthim would just make her a target. She needed to back them up and lay and ambush to rescue the others, so she carried Princess Hornet across the roots, heart wrenching with each little sniffle.

Eska was always the most vexing sister, even when she was unconscious in the Labazaar, somehow she managed to be the most vexing one. Kazelia urges Shiva higher and swooped in to pick up Kyouko. Cassian would be controlling the Garthim, Oberon wouldn't stay for that himself, he'd done his work already. Where would he be though? He'd have to be able to see, at least big picture to give commands. He wouldn't want to make himself vulnerable either. Hmm, where where where? She wishes she had Adila's eyes, but she settles for flying Shiva up high and casting her vision with magic, bouncing her sight from branch to branch and looking around each one. Where was he?

[Look Closely: 5+1=6.
Is something hidden or out of place? If so, what looks suspicious?
Time to find out the hard waaaaaay]

She burns.

Beneath the waves, her hair rises and sways with the currents. Her dress flutters around her like a sea fan. Hot tears bubble up out of her eyes and rise to the surface to join the wreckage still splashing down from on high. And she burns golden.

Of course she does! She is the diamond that has been crushed and pressured until all that's left is shining and inviolate; the little piece of Alina that even the void saw and said, "Ah yes. You." There's nothing left to break. No more pieces of her to slough off and leave to the graces of the ocean around her. This is the whole of her, and she is burning. Of course she is!

Her halo burns golden as the Garthim swarm and scrabble about her. Even now her eyes are darting this way and that for any sign, anything at all, of a cat or a girl, of her beloved heart who is both of these at once. Her fingers curl around sharp spears of blazing orange and yellow light. She lashes through the water and they cut as though in air, smashing into hard shells and knocking Garthim away from her. She twirls Yellow in her left hand and thrusts with Orange in her right, a shield and a sword in single form. But she must fight with spears: this is what Kazelia means.

Across her legs and through her stomach, up one arm and down the other, through her neck and up her cheeks to join around her eyes, red veins of light and power crackle all about her. The strength of a hundred tiny princesses compresses itself into her single form. She swims at speeds beyond her ability, a mighty huntress of the sea, and kicks wave and rotting monster crab alike with unrestrained power and bravery. Somewhere deep inside of her she's always been afraid to let this power take her fully. Perhaps because it was borrowed, or perhaps because it scared her to wind up like a certain someone, having to struggle and forcibly relearn how to hold things without destroying them. But here at last, she embraces it fully, and it accepts her in return. A claw catches about her wrist. She flings herself into a spiraling, underwater flip and smashes the offending Garthim against three of its friends. Her Red is reborn in full, and the name it whispers is Adila.

All about her back are motes of color. Blue, Indigo, Violet, and even gentle Green are firing, crashing, distracting, shielding their princess. Violet catches the underside of a Garthim with a shot hot enough to scald the sea itself, and the beast floats in stillness for a moment before weakly clacking its terrible grasping claws at a broken crate. In the space freed around her, Green and Blue snatch what pieces of the ship they can find closer and hold them in their Princess' aura for a moment before discarding them. Is this? No, but is that? Is this? Is this? Rita where are you?

And she burns golden. Invincible and untouchable and all alone. All about her there is bits of ship sinking down or floating up while Garthim scrabble and bubble and hiss in numbers too much for any princess. Is this it? Well that's, that's, that's fine then. If everything she is, all of her wisdom born from pain with the full glory of her crown, the memories of her most precious friends, her love, her life, her everything, and even the ultimate treasure of her homeland... if, if, if, if if if if that is not enough to swat away some crabs, then...

So be it. She'll carve this next failure into her heart as well. Gold swells up around her, brighter and brighter, before it shrinks into a single molten point at the tip of her left spear. No one. Not ever again. She's going to protect everything that is left for her to hold, and if she can't do that, then let her fall while her heart still burns. She draws the spear back and thrusts it with a wave of force that sounds across Argossa like a mighty thunderclap once it breaks the surface of the water. The golden beam of light tears effortlessly through a full dozen Garthim at once. But there are still an impossible number of them surrounding her.

Claws grab at her waist, her legs, and her arms. Bubbles escape from her lips. Through it all her spark stays lit, but the darkness takes her anyway.

[Alina Cascade has gained the power of the Chronicles of Crystal. Hereafter she may name one Overlord or Location stat per scene and grant those in her lantern's light Protection]

Adila!

You have a plan. It is a terrible plan, but it is a plan that has more of a chance of succeeding than most of the other plans. You need to get up this massive, achingly huge tree without being detected. Dragons are big and tend to be easily detected, but you are the TIME DRAGON, which is crucial for the success of this plan.

Step one: become kitten-sized, hop into Hornet's arms.
Step two: fast-forward to the part where you're standing on the top of Argossa with Hornet.
Step three: immediately find a place to hide and begin reconnaissance.
Step four: identify mission targets (Ourania, fellow princesses, Oberon) and proceed from there.

There is only one problem: you need Hornet to trust you enough to hold on and not let go while you propel both of you forwards through time. It's going to be disorienting and confusing, and if she drops you she risks being lost in the time vortex. You could leave her behind, but you might as well toss her directly to the Garthim to save time if you do that.

This is complicated by the fact that Hornet has gone completely non-verbal, and is huddled with her arms around her knees and her head hidden behind them. What do you say to her, Adila?

***

Kazelia!

You didn't see the moth until it was too late. And now you're stuck inside the Tormenting Puzzle-Box of Val Odroon.

This is your first time inside of it, actually! After what happened to Asteria, you all learned that when Father started playing with the slats and interlocking mechanisms of the Puzzle-Box, it was time to stop playing games, immediately smarten up, and apologize for being bad girls. And now you know that it wasn't just an idle threat.

The insides of the box are covered in viciously barbed chains which suspend you in the air, contracting and slacking in turn to make sure you are never, ever in a comfortable position. The walls pulse orange and blue at random intervals, blasting you with unbearable heat and cold in turn, making you sweat profusely and then freezing it solid, only to melt it again moments later. Your hair is a mess.

But it's even worse for someone with fur. And while you're currently turned away from Shiva, you can't not hear the frantic whinnies and brays.

And the worst part? There's no escape. Once the box is shut, only someone on the outside can open it. You have no idea how long you'll be in here. Maybe he'll toss you into a chest and even when your friends defeat him, he'll spitefully refuse to explain where you are or how to open the box. You're at your father's mercy, totally and completely.

And you dragged Kyouko along, which is secretly actually the worst part of all.

***

Alina!

"Not so strong now, are you?" Cassian is squeezing your cheeks together, as half a dozen Garthim strain to keep you from bursting free and throttling him. Your hair is in your eyes, you just know that after he finishes taunting you he's going to stuff his handkerchief in your mouth, and then he's going to take you to his father. But all of that? That's okay.

You're the distraction.

Because as the Garthim seized you, as the darkness fell over you... you saw, deep and far away, a flash of coral pink.

Rita is safe. You have to believe that. If there's one princess who's not you who'd do anything for her...

"Nasty little brat, aren't you?" Cassian nods your head up and down and you drag the Garthim on your left side half an inch, which makes him flinch. Maybe just a little throttling...

Argh! Kazelia rattles her chains, but they just rattle in response and then pull her arm tight to the wall with an uncomfortable clinking. She'd never been in the Puzzle-Box before. The penalties of being such a well-behaved daughter most of her life, never needing such things from Oberon unlike some of her sisters meant she didn't know the best escape from it now. She could figure it out, given time, but listening to Shiva's suffering was already unbearable and she regretted picking Kyouko back up when she could have left her hidden and safe from the Garthim.

She wasn't gagged though, nor cursed or silenced. And so she sang out her defiance. Because she knew this wouldn't last. She knew her father was only stalling the inevitable. She knew that no chains and chills could last.

"Come and find me! Father,
come and find me!
You think your chains can hold and
these walls can stand firm
but the sun is rising and all storms break
No Riders at your banner's call
No well-wishers for your wedding day
Nothing left for your hands to hold but
cold steel all alone
You think that you can stop us
but the sun is rising soon
and all storms break
So come and find me! Father,
come and find me!"