Phoe

Sunshards

Have you ever had a moment in your life when you wish you had a little bit less than what you did? Like... I dunno, maybe your friends found a miniature golf course in some old ruins, and you show up with a putter your parents gave you when you were six? And a yellow ball you found a while back and kept because it was pretty? But you haven't, like... like... played in half a decade, but everyone's looking at you like wow, she didn't have to scavenge or borrow anything, she must be really good? And then when you miss every shot, they all make fun of you for a month? Two months? It comes up for basically the rest of your life any time anybody's reminded of it even a little bit? Like, even if you go back later and crush the whole stupid thing, they just spin it back to how you fell on your silly little butt before?

Just a... random example.

It's not like that's a perfect analogy, exactly. But if Yue's here thinkin' about putters and laughter and wonderin' if maybe it wouldn't have been better for her if she'd discovered the Demon Swordswoman's shrine at the end of this here story instead of way at the beginning? Like, yeah, she wouldn't have gotten this far without Her lessons carrying her through all the trials and tribblamations, but at the same time doesn't this flowing sunset robe and these astonishing glass sandals and this glittering silver sword and, heck, even the fact that her first instructor was a dead woman out of super legend imply she's... a lot more ready than she feels right now? These nice knights were so polite to line up for her just like she asked, and here's silly ol' Yue about to disappoint 'em.

The polite, sweet little smile on Yue's face freezes into diamond hard determination. She lifts her sword above her shoulder with the blade held parallel to the ground. She plants her feet for the length of a single tiny breath. She jumps forward with the speed of a poumcing fox, blade tilted in front of her like deadly blade and invincible shield at the same time, with full intent to end this first fight in a single stroke. She has four more to go, and a lot to say and do when they're done, after all.

And... maybe she'll manage that after all? 'Cause her blow never falls. When she leans in to start her big finisher swing, that's the same moment she takes a shield slam to the face and goes scrambling, spinning, tumble-flipping end over end until she has to plant her sword in the ground just to keep from flopping on her knees straight away. A little trickle of weirdly sexy-looking blood trickles from her lip. She shakes her head like a bell, whipping all that floofy milk-tea hair into a frenzy so that it flops over her eyes and makes pause to reach into her bag and grab a tie so she can braid it real super quick, hold on a moment.

"Owie. That was, nnnf, ok, ow. Ow ow ow. You're, eesh, pretty good! I'm, uh, mmmm. This is, uh, my... first time fighting someone with a shield. Believe it or not."

She tries to laugh as she picks up her sword, but even a complete dummy could see how rattled she is. Her next lunge is slower, more cautious, and 40% more battered by the slam that she at least pivots into taking to the ribs. Her third is slower still, and the gasp she makes when her attempt to pivot into a leg sweep gets countered with a leap that darn near turns her into a pancake is... oh, sweetie.

And. Look. I'm gonna zoom out here for a minute, if you don't mind. Don't underestimate my Yue. Don't you dare. Just because she's fallin' apart in the face of her first time fightin' a Guard doesn't mean you get to laugh at her! Don't you dare make her regret dressin' her best and tryin' to treat herself seriously for once! Don't you dare.

It isn't that her form is suddenly bad, or like she's forgotten everything she's been taught. Not her lessons from the Demon Swordswoman, not from Tianic, not from Keron, not from Hyra. Certainly not from Chen. And it's not that these knights and their extremely attractive, face obscuring helmets have her so thrown that she can't read their emotions and fit into the flow of their story the way she's used to. Well, it's not just that. It's not even that she's historically always been awful beyond reason whenever she tries anything new, no matter how similar it might be to something she got good at in the past.

No, she's gettin' knocked about right now because this means more to her than anything in her entire life. It's the first time, ever, she's let something that she wants be on the other side of a duel. She's fought plenty of times by now where she's wanted to win, but this is the first time where losin's not okay. So don't you dare laugh. Don't even snigger, less you want the chormping of a lifetime, pal. You can't know what that kinda pressure does to someone less you've lived it, and if you have you wouldn't laugh for a second. Besides, my girl always starts out slow.

See, look? Now she's giving up on the single-strike strategy! High slash, low thrust, bait and leap! Get 'em, girlie! And you can tell, you can tell, you can tell that Yue's got greatness in her, because the longer she goes? The more this drags out, while four Radiant Knights stand politely but aggressively in a series of power stances waiting for their turn to fight, the more Yue's face lights up. The more she grins, the more she laughs, the more she tries silly stuff like kick-flipping off of her opponent's shield so her braid will do that mermaid-flick thing like she's breaching out of the water with her back arched rainbow smooth before she snaps straight and falls to earth blade first like the world's prettiest arrow. Hey! Hey! Stop laughing! That was a perfectly fine turn of... whaddya mean she's "shaped like an arrow too"?! Rrrrrrgh!

The Radiant Knights are gorgeous, elegant, and extremely well trained. You can give some credit to Yue for bein' enough of those things herself to keep on her feet the entire time she's warmed into herself, but I think it's the chivalry of knights that really saves the day here. I'm pretty sure there's an ancient law that says she owes 'em each a kiss now? I'm not sure. Judges? Hey, judges! Anyway, they don't fight to injure or disarm. No, these knights have a hard, powerful style that's all about dazzling, about humiliation and capture of the target before they try to accomplish anything else. If it takes two of 'em to beat someone who asked for one then that's a crime, and if they can't take her and bend her over their knees for spankies with her sword still glued to her hand then they're failing their mistress. The path of the knight is to make her yield that sword in submission, and the way they try? Well, Yue can laugh and blush and squeak at the same time, ok? She's skilled!

"Oh hey, I know that move! I bet I know who taught you, that's so fun!!"

It's dangerous to let Yue figure you out. If you give her enough time, she'll find an opening. Most of her life that wouldn't've mattered for beans, because she'd've been too timid or slow or any number of other things to actually take that opening, or make it to the weak point if she did. How unlucky, to have met her now! We clash, blade on blade! Shield to shoulder, step then step then step then step! We move! Like this! Then like this! And then this! Finishing like...

For the briefest of instants, Yue moves like Chen might. The blade comes thrusting at her in a way that is not remotely suggestive, please and thank you, and Yue smiles. It reaches her, at last. Only she isn't there. A helmeted head turns up in confusion, and a sword arm dips with effort when they realize there is a girl in glass sandals standing on their sword. Yue grins, half-bobbles, almost tumbles face-first straight into the dirt, and recovers by reaching forward and snatching a knight's helmet straight off of their head with a poke of her sword, releasing a vision of loveliness that should never have been hidden for all the world to see, which is exactly what she meant to do the whole time.

Yue hops to the ground and tosses the helmet behind her with a casual giggle. She smirks as she straightens up, tapping her legendary sword off her shoulder as she reaches forward with uncharacteristic boldness to brush her fingers under her opponent's chin. Call this her Shadow Sword: Visions of a Rose.

"Hey there, cutie," Yue, goshies, where did you learn how to purr like that? "Are you gonna be good for me, or do I have to peel the rest off of you, too?"

They say a swordwoman's words are as important in a duel as her sword. And Yue's might have slayed five knights in a stroke. But if it hasn't, her sword is swift and confident, and her teachers have all been far too talented for there to be any doubt left who the winner will be. Besides, s'far as I know? She's never lost a strip duel in her life.

[Fight: 7. Yue flirts with her opponents to gain a String, and seizes their helmets (and possibly their armor, if they're a bunch of good girls). She takes a move in response]

Breathless Dead

One by one, the stars detonate inside her body. The flare of pain spreading wider than a galaxy and yet shrunk to the size of a pinprick at the same time. Screaming agony of infinite length that passes the moment it registers inside of her. The reaping of the universe, Molech's great sin and Nero's great failure is recreated in miniature inside of Bella's body. This is the only way she can be taught.

The pain of uncountable millions tears across her in a line. Each burst reaches inside of her to pull a tortured wail from her lips and steals the air she needs to make it in the same motion. Bella cries silently as she suffers through her lesson. The stars are in her feet, until one by one and all at once, they vanish into dust and beg to be remembered. The sensation races up her calves and into her thighs. Bella weeps for every person who was meant to grow up, to love, to fashion wonders cradled inside her universe. No longer.

The pain ebbs, and leaves behind it nothing. Not the sensation of numbness, but a total lack of feeling. Bella floats on limbs that don't exist anymore; she sinks to the ground without resistance as she disappears. Her stomach clenches before it too is torn into oblivion. Her arms tremble under their burden. Not them! Not them, too! She has work to do! She has...

But Beautiful and Beljani tumble to the floor with heavy thuds. Bella's arms fall limp and useless to her sides. Or at least, they must because they are no longer strong enough to keep held above her shoulders. They feel like nothing, just a memory of blinding heat and sadness. Only her head and heart remain. Because they must. Because something must remember how the universe was before it was wiped away, and something must weep for it. Something must remember, so that it can never happen again. This is the only way she can be taught.

There is a sound. Something pointless and dull, just a cracking of metal or whatever when it strikes a hard surface too heavy and haphazard for whatever it was made for. The soft plink of pieces falling away from something follows after. Bella grieves for it, too, whatever it happens to be. Had been. Will never be again.

The Auspex cries as easily as if it were simple flesh and blood. Nero's hand is upon her. Hermes' hand is upon her. It hurts a thousand times more, having the understanding of a god compressed back into her skull for a second time. She is not a universe. She is a Servitor. She is Tredecima, and she is Bella. She is deeply wounded almost everywhere that can be moved, and so emptiness ripples slowly back into a sense of weakness and exhaustion, and stabbing pains swimming with a serpent's grace underneath those.

Her legs begin to cramp, through which she discovers she is sitting up in spite of everything. Her arms twitch wildly when she tries to move them, but she grits her teeth and does it anyway. She strains, and finds exactly none of her awful, terrible strength. Her arms fall away again, without managing more than to brush the fingers of Beautiful and Beljani. Her talons have slipped off her fingers without her realizing it. Her shame, her weakness sits in her lap for anyone to notice. How ugly, these scarred and mutilated stumps. How shameful to have dared to try and grab a family with them. How evil of her to have begged for a mother to love them.

Both of her eyes sting with hot tears. She cries for a god, fragile and distant and beautiful. She cries for her family, sleeping and sobbing beside her. She cries until her heart must crumble to ashes, and then she pulls it back together so that she can cry some more. She cries, knowing this time there will be no Apollo to come and sit with her.

Death at last. And now that it's here, she finds she does not wish for it at all.

Breathless Dead

The gods were cruel when they created Bella, to have turned the scent of blood into poison for her body and then gifted her with such sharp claws and a prodigious talent for violence. She's lost count of how many places just this evening where the air has turned to red mist in her lungs. It's passed beyond the realm of nausea, beyond even simple misery. It dampens her fur and runs down her arms, her chest, and across her thighs. It drips noisily from her claws and her talons in a mockery of song. Everywhere it touches, it burns her skin straight down to the core of her muscles. It squeezes her chest until breathing feels like torture.

Is this punishment for bringing so much death to Her Majesty's world, where none is allowed? Her vision blurs. Tired. So tired. She should rest. Needs to rest. She's fought. So much. Already. She should. Close. Her eyes. And. Just.

Fresh pain explodes across her cheek following the trail of her talon as she drags it across her face. Bella snarls as she rises to full height again and pounces with animal fury on the remains of what passes for Beljani's army. The air rings out with the sound of crunching bone on cracking stone, snap pop rip. A dagger hides among two reeds. Bella's knees grind in protest as she circles around her ally with all the seeming of a starving tiger.

"You moron," hisses Beljani, "I always knew you were too stupid to live. Just give up! Why do you insist on doing everything the hard way?!"

"...It wouldn't be the hard way if you just fucking let me through!"

"Idiot! You've got brawn and tits enough to fill a ship with, but when it comes time to actually follow orders you... just look at you! I'd rather we just brought a bomb! At least that would only blow up in my face if I screwed up!"

They clash. If they'd done it sooner, everything would be over in an eyeblink. But Bella's arms have filled with lead in the face of her war with a planet. She bleeds from a hundred cuts, and her shoulders sag with a weight that has nothing to do with Oratus magic. Her fingers close around the knife instead of Beljani's throat, so when she tears it's only her palm that's sliced open before the steel cracks into splinters under her death grip.

A spear whistles through the air toward her head. Bella ducks low, and flips backwards over top of the follow up strike. She springs and slips off her bloody hand and finds herself sliding and spinning away again. Too far to end things. She reaches up and squeezes her head to make the spinning stop. Everything tastes like blood. She gags, a wretched noise that's half mucus and half bile. Her stomach does another flip without the rest of her.

"Bella, this doesn't... we don't have to do this. We're so close. Just finish the plan, and we'll be ok. Just finish the plan. That's our way out."

"You dipshit, look at her! Look at her! Just fucking... I can save her! Let me save her! Get the fuck out of my way you useless fucking songbird!"

Beljani's face registers hurt for just a second. Her eyes widen in surprise and her mouth falls open without her meaning for it to. She pulls her arms across her chest, feet sliding backwards against Bella's latest charge. Bella lunges, and Beljani becomes diamond hard in an instant. Bella's vision explodes with stars as a fist collides with her jaw from out of nowhere, sending her sprawling to the ground.

A lone Kaeri warrior stands above her with a spear. She drops to one knee and plunges the shaft deep into Bella's shoulder. Her arm screams. Her heart screams. She screams, like the dying. Like the damned. With a wet, gurgling snarl she kicks the owl servitor in the stomach and pushes herself back off the ground to the sound of a chorus of fabric and muscle tearing. She spins on the balls of her feet, wrenching the spear free and plunging it halfway up the shaft into the Kaeri's stomach.

The look of betrayal turns Bella's blood to ice. She sucks in a breath as she takes a step forward. And then another. She drops to one knee. In front of her, tainted red, Beljani hangs her head.

"...There's no way out, Bella. No way out but this. I'm... I'm sorry."

"Shut up! SHUT! UP!!!! You're a liar, I hate you! You fucking traitor, come here so I can kill you!"

Across the din of battle, a shotgun blast roars overtop of everything. A lone, brave mouse levels the barrels at a pair of monsters, and calmly pauses to reload. The shining of her eyes in her beautiful lantern's light are sharp enough to cut entire worlds in half. It was useless buying a djinn after all, if they'd had this all along.

There's no telling who her target is, what she means to happen. Jil aims her gun again, and plants her tiny feet against the recoil, but the next shot never comes. Beljani flinches. Bella screams. Her claws bite flesh, and when Beljani falls she clutches at a line of bloody gashes trailing across her stomach. She curls up around her wound, shrinking into the pain. Small. Weak. Pathetic. Her breathing is shallow, so timid and afraid to be heard.

Bella towers over her with her good arm poised to strike. She lifts her hand to shoulder height, points her claws at her prey, and tenses for the killing blow. Her wet, hot, heaving breath beats down on Beljani's secret, tiny gasps with the force and fury of a nightmare. She hangs there for eternity. An inevitability. Every second is a year, and the blow does not fall. In just a second more, it will. No more tricks. No more lies. Nothing to stop her.

Bella's ear bends to catch a noise behind her. She turns her head in time to follow the Master's gaze all the way across the roof to Beautiful. And she snarls and falls down on Beljani like a comet. There's a shriek and an explosion of debris. Bella shuffles to her feet again on unsteady legs, with a look of raw intensity permanently stuck across her face.

Her injured arm is trembling under the weight of Beljani's writhing body. Her tail flicks like a whip, and then in the space of an eyeblink she disappears.

The syringe is in her empty hand. She needs steady aim for the work she has to do. There's chaos on the roof, too much too fast, and nothing marks her. She crosses the distance between herself and Beautiful, without stopping even to watch Redana struggle.

She plunges the syringe into Beautiful's shoulder right at the base of the neck, just where she'd been told to aim an entire week ago. Follow the plan. Yes, thank you, she's doing that. She pushes the plunger, and injects the lethe into her last remaining friend. Those gorgeous violet eyes flash with surprise just before they start to glaze over.

"But... why?" she asks through an inhuman smile.

"I'm sorry."

Bella's voice is thick and hoarse. She has to stoop to catch Beautiful, and her legs tremble visibly under the burden of two fallen Assassins.

"I can't lose you. Not you too. You're... all I have left."

Bella's eyes are wet as she turns to glare down all the witnesses gathered here before her. She drops, almost to her knees, once. Then twice. Three times before she manages a step to the edge of the roof. Her stare passes over Jil. Over the sheep who came with her, watching her like he would a child-snatching creature in the night. Over Redana, herself doubled over with the effort of not crying. She watches the Master of Assassins.

Above, the hand of a djinn collapses into sparkling dust that sprays down across the city. Bella stands there, frozen in the rain.

Sunshards

She's been thinking about this moment for a long time, actually. Not a lot at first, there's been a lot of stuff on her mind if you can imagine that. But at least a little every day, ever since that helicopter chase. And a little bit more every day, until by the middle of her little road trip to Ys it was the first thing she thought about in every non-distracted moment of the day.

Guess she should've thought about it more than that. This isn't anything like what she imagined.

This worse than the night with the river demons. At least that was all pointed directly at her, y'know? And this is... not. Everywhere she looks there's something awful going on. Knights and soldiers climbing walls or just plain charging through the gates that were supposed to be stuck shut. She could hear the shouting from all the way over here, and the eerie light hangin' over everything so it was impossible not to think Yin was involved? Not... not great.

There's smoke and chaos and so many swords flashing in so many directions it's hard to tell what's what. And, bein' honest? Yue's a little bit short on stories where, like... war happens. There's a lot of stuff that could be goin' on down there that she just can't picture. And sister, if you want me to fill the gaps in for her you are arfin' up the wrong tree. It doesn't matter anyway. She doesn't need to know, and neither do I, and neither do you.

'Cause she can tell, can't she? What's really goin' on is that there's something what got put here that somebody... honestly really, lots of somebodies loved so much they decided to put it in the world in the first place. And even if it's old and a little weird and hard to make proper sense of, it's still... I mean, do outsiders really feel any different when they stumble across the upper villages at the Terraced Lake? Probably not. But all the same. If somebody came and just decided to... get rid of them, Yue would be in tears. It's her home. Her story started there. And this is Chen's home. Her story might not have started here, but it runs in and out and through it so many times that it hardly matters.

And now someone's got a whole army just to knock it down and take it away. They're gonna erase it and paint somethin' new here and not even care what came through before. Not carin' how anybody else feels about it, just, just... stepping in and saying in a big loud voice that they're the only opinion in the whole world that matters worth a darn! And it's not even just 'someone', that's the thing! It's not even Yin! If it was, that'd be... not ok, not by a long shot, but sorta understandable? But it's Qiu!

Qiu, who did conquer the Terraced Lake and knew better enough not to flip it upside down and turn it into a, like, dragon waterpark or whatever. Qiu, who was grand and terrifying but in a weirdly beautiful and approachable kind of way? Qiu, who understood instantly what it meant to not be offered the first cookie. That Qiu. This was all her fault and how could she, how could she, how could she?

Yue's hands ball into fists, and then they squeeze so tight they seem to turn pale enough to become little moons. She sniffs and snorts and no matter how many times she takes a breath she finds she doesn't have a word for any of it anywhere that she can reach. Nobody ever taught her words nasty enough for the ugly feelings brewing inside her just now. Which is just as well, if she knew what to say she'd only make herself feel bad, and it's super important that she focus.

"I'm..."

She opens her hands again and finds her fingers are trembling. Her sword rattles in her bag, longing for action she can't give it. She's learned so many things and grown so much in this short time, but none of it helps at all in a moment like this. Her heart is born for dueling, and that's where all of her practice went. Someone amazing like Chen is born for one-on-many battles, someone like Rose could spank a mountain if it was being naughty enough, and Hyra... Hyra could do anything she decided needed doing. Not Yue. Just the thought of zipping down among all those bodies and those radiant knights and being surrounded like that makes her heart skip beats and hide somewhere unpleasantly high up her throat.

She's shaking, poor girl. Poor, lovely flower in the breeze, my Yue. Little sliver of moonlight on a choppy lake. And she's burning with shame to feel this way, 'cause this is Chen's home. Her home! And how dare she go and make friends and then turn out to not be any help when the important stuff came down on 'em? She's got one single solitary thing she's good for and she can't even do that 'cause it's Qiu she's gotta do it to! But that's hardly an excuse, y'know?

She sniffles like the bravest of brave girls. Can't be brave if you're not scared. That's just doin' normal stuff. She wipes a tear away from her eye. Can't be strong if you can't cry. 'Cause bein' strong means opening your heart, that it does. And she turns and, outta nowhere, throws her arms around her besties and squeezes 'em together in a hug so tight it makes her bag start yipping for completely unrelated reasons.

"I'm going... gonna go down there and, and um. S-see Qiu. Ok? I. She. I just... there's stuff I've gotta do. Gotta, erm. Please. Um... don't... don't be mad ok? I, I'll see you in a, I mean. I still wanna have the tour and, and the tea and... I, see, see you. Later."

And she's so flustered, our Yue, that it takes her three shaky tries before her hands cooperate enough to get her flight spell working well enough to get her off the ground. Alone, right? She's supposed to do this alone. She floats there for a second, just starin' at her best friends and her girlfriend there beside 'em, with her watery blue eyes shimmering with what I refuse to call anything other than love. That's love, ok? The deep deep deep kind of love that burns forever for the people who showed her that magic was a thing she deserved to get to welcome into her life.

She gives them a smile, and a little wave, and it's... look. Don't laugh at me for sayin' this, but it's the single bravest thing you're gonna see from anybody all day, ok? 'Cause it's the kind of smile an ordinary sillyhead who's maybe halfway through her trainin', who's yet to beat a single one of her friends in a full-on duel, who's the first one to admit she's the least actual talent of any of 'em, who's got no chance in a real fight with the strongest princess in the world but who can't do what she's gotta do without drawing blades, probably maybe I'd bet you, who's clinging to anger that makes her feel icky to get past fear that'd paralyze her if she didn't, the kind of smile only a girl like that can make. And only when she's about to take all've that stuff and throw it out a window, at that. She's got a pretty smile, my Yue, but this one is... makes me wish I was a proper poet. But of course, I studied Cutie Law. So I just, I don't know how to make you see how bright and beautiful it is except by pointin' up at all that other stuff.

I wish I could tell you that Yue zips across the battlefield like a comet and dazzles everyone she speeds past on her way to a destined meeting. But really she floats kinda awkwardly like a dandelion in a breeze, or maybe a speck of foam bouncin' around the edge of a waterfall. She's still shaking, poor girl, and it's not good enough to make it as far as she needs to get safely. Which... actually, hm.

Yue lands, and plants her feet in a wide enough stance that her knees don't have room to knock together. She pulls her sword out of her bag (with just a lil' bit of help) and flourishes maybe a half-twirl too showy before she points it at the sky. But the breeze is warm and kind, and it flutters her gorgeous battle dress about her legs and arms like she was some kind of hero steppin' out of myth.

"My name's Yue!" she cries like very squeaky thunder, "And I'm here to see Princess Qiu and give her a piece of my goshing mind!"

Her heart surges bravely in her adorable chest. At last, she finds her footing, and plants them proudly. No more shaking like a leaf, Yue of the Terraced Lake slides into a battle stance far more terrifying than anything a person who uses a word like 'goshing' should be capable of. Atta girl!

"So if... if anyone's gotta problem with that! Then, then um. G-get in line! 'Cause I haven't learned how to fight more than one person at a time yet!"

Sunshards

Oh. Uh. Hm. W-well then. Not, erm... yeah not gonna lie, I thought, well, y'know, haha, it was gonna be a little closer than that. Ha. Ehe. Hoho. Ah. Oh dear.

Oh, but don't worry about it, you did everything exactly right, Rosie! It's just, well, goshies I don't even know how to put this. Imagine, me at a loss for words! That's almost, no scratch that, that's ten times more impressive than beating Yue so soundly! But gosh, what to do? I thought this was gonna be a bit of a project for... oh nevermind! Like I said, don't worry about it!

You see it in her eyes, right? Or at least, the eyes she had before you picked her up and clamped your pretty, sweet smelling hand over her face and reduced her to muffled squeaking. Yue's the kind of girl who celebrates every little milestone like it's a victory by itself. If she ever duels you again and coaxes a single extra move in your little finisher combo she'll celebrate like she just won a superb owl. Which I don't... see what's so great about those, but that's the expression right? Oh well. Just saying, a cute fox would be better.

And anyway, she totally... well, I guess it doesn't matter, does it? She's in your hands now, wriggling like a little fishie and just blushing more and more and more the longer she tries to suck air through her fingers. She's so cute when her eyelids start doing that little flutter-flutter thingy, don't you think? I also like the way she squeezes those dainty thighs of hers so tight together when she squirms, as if that'll help her break free any faster. Sorry sweetie, you are s-t-u-c-k! Hey, hey! Can you get her fingers over... yeah, get her behind the ears! Give her a lil' scritchie and see how she likes it! For me? Awww, whoosa good girl, Yue? Whoosa good, good girl! You are, yes it's you~! Heeeeeeeeeeeee, this is the best! How about we get you caught more often, sweetie?

...O-oh, I'm sorry, you had a question didn't you? I dunno, it's a silly question. When did Yue stop being scared of you? I mean it's like... Rosie you goof, when was the last time you looked in a mirror? Were you not paying attention? Yes, you're big and strong and old, but so what? So're the suns. So's a mountain. So's a river. Are those some kinda horrible whatsits that nobody's ever managed to love before? C'mon, sillyhead.

Oh what, you're more like a giant, vicious demon serpent or something? Pssssh, whatever. Yue's got me, but do you think that means all her friends before now were adorable little forest creatures? My girl's hung out with wild dogs the size of hills, she even helped one birth a litter of puppies once! She once had tea with a 350 year old boar. She's been bit and scratched and trampled by deer who didn't care for her jokes, lemme tell you. Some sneaky jerks of berries have poisoned her and turned her insides almost out for like a week. One time she almost lost her arm to a monster fish, and she spent a whole month in bed recovering from broken bones (and a long time after that too I promise you, just... not in bed) when she wound up in a bad disagreement with that thing she'll only call "the Forest God". Is a muscle-girl gonna be a monster too far for her to handle? Puh-leaze.

Here, lemme be less mean about it. You bein' a person does make a lil' more difficult sometimes, after all. But... it's like this, see? Y'know how you did the spooky thing when she tried to share sunlight with you and she got a bit rattled? Well that was your big moment. And ever since then you've been... well, you've been a lotta things, haven't you? You've been protective and teasing, you've been small and clumsy and sweet, you've been big and bashful and beautiful. Graceful and, yeah don't we know it, in looooove~. The most I can say about your scary cred is that you clearly know some sorta secret about my girl that for whatever reason you're keepin' tucked inside your sports bra. As if you need the padding.

So let's compare you to your old partner, howsabout? Sorry to drag history into this, but it's important. Yi...er... princess... oh heck it. Yinny. Now she knows how to be a monster, get me? After sendin' out her own handmaiden to scoop up poor Yue in a whole silly storm of demons, she goes and shows up in Maximum Spook Mode and decides for herself that actually the perfect capture of her target's not good enough 'cause Hyra's maybe a little sweeter on ya girl than on Yinny. Imagine that! So she turns a beautiful, brave, special girl into a wolf just to punish her, tries to turn Yue into a mouse for complainin' about it, and at the end of all of it she's even got the audacity to turn to little Chen and act like she's supposed to be totally on board with the whole thing! Like it's normal! Like oh, your mom said we're working together so obviously everything I'm doing is fine, clearly, look at me and how pretty and strong and spooky I am oh ho ho ho ho.

See the difference? It's not about how strong you are, Rosie. If it was, then Yue'd be hitchhiking back to her tiny little house and locking the door forever at the idea of standing up to Qiu. It's about how you carry all that strength. It's about how you choose to wear it. And you, you brave wonderful amazingly amazeful sweetiebiscuit, turned yourself into a Monk so that princesses'd feel safe around you while you tried to do the stuff that made you feel good. And like, I don't mean to talk smack about The Way or anythin', but when that wasn't cuttin' it either you opened up your heart and let yourself grow until you were soft enough to be somebody's... heeeeeee, "petal". How's Yue, my precious little splash of moonlight, supposed to be afraid of a monster who voluntarily wraps herself in ribbons? No. You don't deserve to have people be scared of you, and we both know it's not what you want. So it's ok, be strong. Be as strong as you want, whenever you want. And be a silly little klutz when that suits you better, too. Around your friends, even if nowhere else, you don't have to worry about hiding who you are. Yue knows: you're a good person.

And you... uh, hey? Hold on, I missed something. Oh I missed something big, why's Yue turning so pink? What'd Chen say, what'd I miss, tell meeeeeeeeeee- oh! Ooh! Where are we going, Rosie? Where are we... oh. Oh gosh. Oh gosh gosh goshies.

S-so. Um. CH-changing the subject a little, s'funny. Um. O-ooh, speaking of changes, you uh... y-yeah. Eeep. Mrrrrp! Y-y-y-you'd think with the bath and all this wouldn't be such a big deal and all, r-right? L-l-like she's, um, sh-shown you everything already right? So why would, why should, wh-why's it suddenly so hard to sit still when you're getting all those clothes out f-for her? Why can't she stop squeaking even through the gag you've packed her mouth with while you get everything ready?

Is it... 'cause she's never had someone else dress her before? Is it 'cause... 'cause she sees how much fun you're havin'? M-maybe it's relief? 'C-cause when you were talkin' bout giving her all gift-like to Chen's moms she was really super squirmy and back-archy wiggly squeak squeak, y'know? Just 'cause she started picturin' Hyra in a matchin' outfit doesn't mean she was... y'know, looking forward to it or anythin', 'cause she... w-w-well. Um.

It's just. Actually it's not a relief at all, is it? 'Cause it's a lot easier. Meeeeeep. A... a lot lot easier to imagine bein' a gift for Hyra. She can't, oohh gosh goshies goshers, she can't stop thinkin' about it. Even before you start sliding 'em up her legs she can't keep her brain from thinking about Hyra's eyes on her flowing, translucent trousers that don't really cover her for beans, do they? And it's like, oh wow she's really never thought about this stuff before has she? How putting her body on display like this but with... l-like, the idea of covering it up makes her look and feel like she's supposed to be looked at? A-a-a-and that's... um. Well. She understands why you're enjoying it so much, Rosie.

She's... oh. Oh she's feeling so warm right now. Flushed and... and... eep! Th-that's a tiny top, she's never worn anything so, mmmf, how are you so gentle? And if you're so gentle how come all the squirming she's doing isn't making her any more free to run away? She's not even, I mean, the ropes are just... draped across her right now to so it's easier to get her ready, she could get out any time she wanted so h-h-h-how come she can't... do more than stretch without your permission? Did you put a spell oh her, Rosie?! I-is that a thing you can do? Or is it, is it, is it is it is it is it... meep!! Oh no no no, does she, is she excited about this? I-is that why she's so, so, why she can't stop thinking about t-tongues and lips and, erm, h-hey where is that tail gooIIIIInnnnggg~~

One present, ready for delivering. Yue, Just Yue, the dancing wolf girl in Ysian silks fit for fluttering while she shows off her hips and letting everyone see her skinny little tummy and her tiny, silly chest and her cute little shoulders and her hair all done up in pigtails and the... wow, Keron taught you a lot about makeup, didn't she? Yue is a treasure. She's a treasure. A darling little jewel. She's a prize that's been won, and presented and... gifted, with silly, fluffy ears on a pretty little handband and a cutie little tail that wags when she wiggles her butt and oh no, oh no, oh no she feels beautiful. What if she never, what if she can't be a swordsmaiden anymore 'cause she can't stop feeling like...

Meep! What are you?! D-don't tie those ropes around th-aaaaahhh! I-i-if you d-d-don't st-stop that she's not gonna, y-you... mmmmf, y-you'll have to carry her to Hyra now, 'cause she can only... um. Rosie? Wh-where'd you get a collar? And a, a, a, a, l-leash?! You're not. You wouldn't. You don't mean to bring her like... on...

W... walkies?!?

Breathless Dead

The sound of snapping fingers tears holes in the sky. Now it's Bella's turn to throw her hands over her ears, whimpering inaudibly from the pain. One, two, three times the booming echoes rattle against her bones and threaten to drive her to her knees. By the fourth, she feels a tiny trickle of warm fluid leak out from between her fingers. And still, she doesn't close her nerves in defense and dull her hearing. It's too important that she not miss a word.

It stops. She lifts her hands cautiously off her head, and for the umpteenth time today forces herself to swallow the acrid burn of her own fear mixed in with the day's meals. Her entire body is trembling, every muscle overwhelmed to the point of uselessness. Her eye flickers toward Beljani, still dressed perfectly for any ball she could wish for in her blood speckled dress. Her vision trembles, too. What is the expression on that face? Animals can't read people. There is only fear.

She turns her head to look at Redana, instead. Redana with her long shadow. Redana with her legs that will not stand. Redana with her beautiful eyes. Redana, the little girl who lifted her out of the Box. Redana, lying in bed with a fever that couldn't be treated any of the gentle, stupid skills of a silly kitten or even a fancy Imperial physician. Redana, who can only get better through the power of her own determination. Redana, who makes Bella watch her arch that tiny spine in agony while tears stream endlessly from that one pretty eye she's still got left. Redana, who can only be soothed by one power in the entire universe, which are lullabies sung soft and sweet for hours without stopping.

But the songs are all forgotten. Little girls, good girls know lullabies. Monsters only know one verse, and it's not fit for company. Bella's feet slide forward, away from the edge of the roof at last. Her heels bite into the hard stone. She is balanced on a knife's edge, moments away from exploding with the power of a star or collapsing into a trembling heap forever with equal likelihood. In slow, unsteady waves they come. Bella squeezes her eyes shut, as if her trembling lids were enough to keep them safe from the perfect plans of Beautiful.

The first to touch her is a Kaeri warrior. Bella's body turns into a blur before the fingers finish closing. Even violet eyes might strain to see what produces the cloud of dust and the sickening crunch that precedes it. But when it clears, she is hunched over the Kaeri's limp body with her fingers clamped tight about her skull, squeezing tight enough to crack it. She snarls with wet, naked animosity and whirls herself back to standing like a tornado, heaving the body into a crowd that topples and scatters depending on her luck. She doesn't care which. ELF lightning bursts across her back and churns the new arena with shards of deadly masonry.

Lantern, Kaeri, Azura all. If they approach, she crushes them. Cuts them. Hurls them aside, indiscriminately. She rushes forward through rounds of foul smelling, deafening SP fire and thickets full of lethal spears and knives and teeth. In a mass, they push her back with the unfocused strength of the oceans she used to read about in the stories she secretly carried off to her little bed to better learn their secrets, back during another, better life she used to have.

"Beautiful!" she screams, and is startled to discover she has a voice after all, "Beautiful! NO!"

There is an army swarming her, and she barely bothers to look. Her eyes are needed to watch her precious friend, and the terrifying arm hanging in the skies above her. There are dozens, maybe hundreds, of new cuts and bruises being left across her body each time she is repelled. Superficial scratches, the lot of them. She pays them no attention. She can hardly feel them at all, beyond the vague disinterested awareness that some unpleasant thing has touched her.

The only reason it's enough to force her back at all is the frantic pounding of her heart pushing power through her body in jagged spikes and painful pressure. That stubborn, stupid heart that screams at her to stay alive. And fuck her, damn her forever, she listens to it. Beljani's mob is a wall she cannot cross. Her stupid, stubborn heart sings with the voice she can't remember. Triumph and hope for... something.

"Beljani!" she tries the final name, after the other two have failed her, "What the fuck are you doing, Beljani? She's gone, can't you see it? She's gone, she's... she's going, LET ME THROUGH! I have to! I can save her! Just! Let! Me! You! Bitch!!"

If her attacks are deathblows or little better than playfighting she does not bother to see. It's not important. It doesn't matter which way the knife has turned. It doesn't matter if she's the burning culmination of a lifetime's worth of training and brutal lessons, or just the shadow of whatever bits of strength Thellis Thist has left for her. There is a wall in front of her, as slick and unyielding as the one that guarded the Ceronian Queen inside the Eater of Worlds. Her claws are still sharp. Her talons still glint in the eerie light of the open sky. Let her sink them in. Let her climb!

If Redana is watching, she doesn't see. There's no time left to look behind her. Save Beautiful, stay alive, and the other shadowy yearning she can't name. They all call her heart to beat. Her legs to stand. Her eyes and claws to point forward. She burns. She trembles. Fuck it. A mirage is plenty for these useless dipshits. She surges forward and slides back in an endless, stupid dance that covers her in tiny wounds and makes her hands itch for a sword.

Animals aren't allowed to have tools. Monsters can't save anybody. A hero could manage both, but the only one she's seen is dead. A new one then, fuck it. Fuck you, why can't it be her?

If Redana is watching, she doesn't want to know. Her dance is ugly. Awful. Stupid. She'll never be loved again. She howls and surges forward again. And again she fails. Again. Again! Her body trembles again, this time with wet, pathetic sobs. And she charges straight into the wall again, failure that she is.

All around her, the building groans with the pain of enduring her battle. It shudders beneath hundreds of feet. It begs for death. Bella burns, and charges again.

It's the only hero's act she's fit to play.

[Alone Against the World: 11. Bella keeps everyone busy, and she'll do damage when she's done]

Breathless Dead

"Re..."

There's an urge to cover her mouth with her hands and press so tight that she starts to choke. To bite her lip and chew it until the blood fills her mouth. To give in to the serpents crawling through her spine and let her body twist into impossible angles until she's in so much pain she won't be able to do anything but scream. Anything at all if it lets her swallow the noises spilling from her lips right now.

"Re... da..."

Already her feet are dragging her backwards, away from Sko-- away from Re-- away from the shadow, away from Beautiful and the arm of a heathen god she controls in the sky above her, away from Beljani's blood flecked dress, away, away, away. Already her pupil is growing wider and wider until the black swallows the gold. Already her body is trembling as if she'd been freshly pulled from a frozen lake, and sweating as though she'd been locked inside a sauna and left to die. And she has. She has been left to die.

She tastes copper. She wants to spit, but her body doesn't belong to her. Her feet are dragging slowly backwards, until her heels taste the air at the edge of the roof. Her arms curl around her chest and clutch something small and precious tight against her, though everything worth keeping has already slipped away. She mustn't say it. She mustn't say the name, make it real. If she finishes Beautiful's work, she dies. And for all the buzzing in her ears, she can still make out the words of a dying hero.

Why? Why does it keep happening? Why why why why why why why why?! Why can't she make herself want to die?!?

"...Nnn-nnuh... nnnNNNN AAAAAAaAUUUGGhH!"

Her hands are trembling. Her hands are clawing at her face. Her hands are slashing uselessly at shadows in the air around her. Her feet are stumbling. Her feet are sliding off the edge of the roof seeking the sky and the fall and the retribution of the mob beneath her. Her feet are dragging her forward again and planting her in safety at the most dangerous place on the planet. Her eye is cold and empty of emotion. Her eye is a pale red orb filling her body with so much information she might explode. Her eye is wide and frightened, and filled with tears.

"Beautiful," she stammers, because there's no other safe place to turn, "Please. Don't."

Bella's dress is a shredded mess. Her body is covered in burns and gashes half scabbed, half oozing. But there is power left in her body. Her ELF flares to life behind her in a jagged corona of danger and warning. She stumbles forward, and where her talons strike the roof she leaves scars and dust and shakes the building beneath her. But there's nothing to do with her strength. There aren't any targets left, except the ones that fill her heart with the terror of death. And she can't, she mustn't, she... she doesn't want to die.

"I, I won! You won! You bet on me and I won! Pl-please, don't do it. Stop looking, stop it! Stop it! Don't do it, don't do it, fuck you STOP! Don't! Take! It! From! ME! Stop looking stop asking stop looking just fu..."

Why? Why? Why? This is everything she was chasing all this time. Why? Why? Why? She cut everything else away for this. She said goodbye, she said fuck off, she said she said she said shesaid so why?! Why?! Why is her body falling apart but begging her to hold it together still? Why is ozone and death all she can taste? Why does every little tremble feeling like nothing but a hot whip cracking against her skin? Why? Why is it all so horrible? Why all these tears, till the emotions drip down her nose and her throat and choke her even though she has to scream she has to scream she can't hold it in she has to scream!

"Please!" Bella's nothing but an animal that was taught to speak as a parlor trick. Her words are nonsense begging punctuated by empty threats of lightning and claw crushing the useless things things around her, "Beautiful, please! Stop thinking, stop asking, stop thinking! Close your eyes, just be wrong, just say you missed something, just lie and say it's fine! Let me... you have to let me... y-yyyrrrrggggraaaaHH!!!"

There are claws inside her throat. There are teeth inside her eyes. There is fire inside her heart. There are chains around her limbs. There's a rope around her neck. Pulling her down. Pulling her up. Pulling, pulling, pulling until the word that mustn't come out finally does.

"Redana."

Her voice is dry and cracking.

"Redana!"

Her voice is ripped from her throat by a wicked hook.

"REDANA!"

Her voice surges until it cracks against the heavens and clashes with the might of an assembled djinn.

Her eye is on the shadow, growing longer in the flickering dust and light. Masters don't, masters don't, masters don't!

"Help... mE."

Sunshards

Well Rose, we know you're good. Better than good, even. You're the best, and you're so strong you're even afraid to show it for some silly reason. Y'know where I come from? If you've got triangles, you wiggle 'em. If you've got a soft, fluffy tumtum you roll over and show it off. If you're fast, you zoomies. And if you're strong? Well I guess I just don't see the problem, Rosie. We established I could call you Rosie, right? Good. 'Cause I'mma gonna.

Anywuzzle! Gettin' sidetracked, where was I goin' with this? Oh right! You're amazingly amazeful you are, so maybe this won't matter to you none but... normally? If you have to ask a fox for the rules, you've already lost. Name a single time a fox has ever lost at anything! Yeah, you can't. Yip yip chormp. But you don't have to worry about that! The rules are super simple, fit for a silly country girl like Yue. The only thing I want you to do, the only rule you need to keep inside that pretty little head of yours is this: keep up. Here, lemme explain.

First of all: survive the First Form, Testing the Waters. Yue's grown as a swordfighter about as fast as willowherb in a sunlit field of topsoil, maybe even a little faster. But she's no Chen, and she's no... well, you. She doesn't insult you with sloppy strokes or wild, stupid footwork. Her stances are lifted straight out've the Demon Swordswoman's teachings, finally understood for what they are, and every thrust of her saber is graceful and fluid as the river that runs by her little home, dunno if you've seen it. She flows from one attack to the next, into defense, and back to attack. But she's slow. She's so slow she looks like she's meditating instead of dueling. She couldn't bop a sleeping housecat on its butt at these speeds. And her smile's brighter than the sun in the sky and her eyes are lit with challenge-glow, but she's keeping her distance, isn't she? You could fit twelve swords, or at least four and a half spears in the space she always backs off into, and sometimes even the space she attacks through. Like she's trying to anticipate a move that isn't coming and just sweep-slash-kick-hops through empty air into a twirl-lift-bow-hop and another grin.

And I'll tell you why it's like this, but that's the rule. Keep up. Don't break the magic, Rosie. Don't worry about being serious enough to keep from insulting her and focus instead on following along. Let her see your new style, and how fast you can turn from blushing and squeaky at your sudden change of style to comfortable in the way it shows your love for your perfect girlfriend. 'Cause she is a perfect girlfriend, isn't she Rosie? Don't forget, I was at every single one of those dates too. I saw. But anywhich. Which is like a sandwich except you can put anyth-- arf!! Sorry. Movin' along. Dance with Yue, please. Let her figure out your range and the power of your moves. Let her see new angles and dances and don't laugh when she tries to incorporate them into her style. She's from the Terraced Lake, ok? She can't help but be like water. So let her take in everything you give her, until she moves into

The Second Form: Hey, Would This Work? Ok, now we're dueling! Suddenly Yue's a lot closer, all up in your business Rosie. Her steps are erratic without bein' clumsy, if that makes any sense. Here she pops off a stool and bounces off of you from above. There she tries to tuck and roll between your feet and smack the side of her blade against your incredible, frosty toned butt with a giggle. Here she lifts a knee all the way up against her petite little chest before she suddenly stumbles forward and thrusts down at your toes to make you dance. Don't let any of it work! That's what it means to keep up with the Second Form. You've gotta be her teacher, Rosie. Show her the counters and the dodges, the holes in her ideas so that the ones she thinks of next are better ones. And more importantly, try to have as much fun comin' up with ways to do that as she is assaultin' you. If you laugh, she wins. But then again, so do you!

Finally, respect the Third Form: I Love You Very Much!. Yue's been slowly accelerating into her true fighting speed all this time. Now she's coming at you full on, sometimes even in flight. She's not tricky about it in quite the way Hyra would be, because she's too focused on making sure her technique is clean enough to make Chen proud, always returning at the end of every stroke to a position that establishes her Sphere of Defense or whatever you sword-and-thumb havin' folks call it. She doesn't dodge the way Chen does, she's more into parrying and sliding along your scimitar in ways that might surprise you, and giggling infectiously at the music your blades make as they kiss over and over. She's unpredictably predictable, you might say. But she fast. It's like I said, if you're fast then you zoomies. And Yue zoomies.

So keep up, Rosie! Don't get so caught up in the old slowness and silliness that you fall behind! You have to show what a good girl... er, handmaiden you are for your Chen, after all! When she speeds up, you do it too. When she flows, you ebb. Show her nothing less than the shape of your heart while you fight, Rosie, and then you'll have followed the rules. Oh, and when you smack her in the middle of a windup and send her skidding across the floor, don't feel bad! Just look at her smile! Listen to her laugh! She's having the time of her life!

"...Ok, that's one point for you! But I, oh hey!" she chirps, "My voice! Well that's just perfect, isn't it?"

Yue hops to her feet as light as a pound of feathers woven into the shape of a pound of rocks and zips across the space you opened up quicker than blinkin'.

"'Cause I've been thinking!"

High slash! She leaps and aims too high, but her momentum carries her around in a circle and as her feet touch down, she pivots all that circle zoomies power into another one at your feet. She grins and watches you rise above it, but that's when she crouches low and drags another circle so that her leg's like a tail that won't get out of your way and you've got no choice but to land in an undignified heap on top of her.

"We're gonna go see Chen's parents, right? Or one of 'em, at least? How're you hopin' that's gonna go? 'Cause I'm like... well I know there's all that war stuff or whatever but I had a dream last night, y'know? And I think I mighta heard wedding bells~"

Now it's your turn! Tell us what kind of phenomenal, earth cracking power the Rosie Pilgrim brings against Yue, the Wolf of the Sky Castle and how she manages to not disintegrate under it. But gee, you were holding back right? Of course you were, sillyhead. There's no way Yue could be managing you for realsies, is there?

"Or! Maybe! You've got other plans? Like I don't... know so much about parents. Or meeting 'em so like, were you wantin' to announce a romantic kidnapping? Have a cozy dinner? You gonna call her 'mom', or is that too silly? I'm just wonderin', have you been thinkin' about it all too? What d'you wanna come out of this?"

She giggles, but it's not mean in the slightest. She loves you, Rosie. She's watched you and admired you, and now you're her family as sure as Sis is. That's why she's fighting you so hard now. Mind you, she's still got her Secret Swords. Those special techniques that come from her life instead of what she's been taught so they're so full of Yue that nobody else could ever master 'em. But she hasn't revealed most any of those, and she won't today either. Those are for fights where winnin's more important than anything else. And, wanna know a secret?

That's actually up to you, Rosie. How this fight ends, I mean. If this is the duel where Yue's blade lifts your chin ever so gentle-like and makes you blush like a maiden while she smirks and gets the ropes to truss you up like a pretty lil' present for your beautiful princess girlfriend, and proves that maybe she's got what it takes to be a princess too, then you'll be the one that picks that ending and tell us all how she managed it. Or! If you want to just play and play and play until her twiggy human body runs out of energy and she's gotta call it so she can get an anywhich and a soda (and find Hyra for a bath after, I bet~), then that's just as valid and wonderful and I know we all wanna hear how your perfect ancient weapon body won by technicality and met all of your secret goals.

OR! Or or or! You can whip her little butt good. You can draw on, like, Iono, fifty percent of your true power? I think that's the expression? You can smash and frighten and embarrass Yue and prove to her that her journey's just beginning and she's a thousand years too young to be tryin' anything with you and that'll be somethin' special too, 'cause then you'll see the way she doesn't break at all, and how she'll laugh and pop back off the ground to tell you thank you and good fight and how much fun she had, what a wonderful duelist you really are. That's a possible future too. Go ahead and learn that the monster's got a place to call home, and she doesn't have to hide herself one bit. Yue's used to chormps from very dangerous creatures, I promise you.

But pick your future. Pick the end of this little duel, Rosie. What's the path that'll make you feel loved? What dream for the future are we planting the seeds for today? The world waits with baited breath. Erm. Bated. I-i-it doesn't smell a thing like bait, who told you!?

[Figure Out: 2, 5: 7 Yue's asked her questions, plus her Truth of Heart and Blade. ask your question back]

Sunshards

She'd like to know everybody's stories, please! She'd never in her wildest dreams guessed there'd be so many to hear! Was she really the only one who sat around... ok well no, but was her village really the only one in the whole entire world that was as sleepy as she thought it was? Goshies.

There's a young swordsman kneeling by the side of the road sipping a cup of tea, and she'd like to ask him if it means anything that his hair is so long and silky. She'd also like to ask him if it means anything that he's carrying... what is that, six swords? But he, if you can believe it, asks for her story. And after that she's already holding up her friends, traffic jam or no. So she never finds out. It probably would've been rude to ask, anyway.

There's a woman sitting on the hood of a convertible with her legs tucked into her chest who somehow looks like she's drowning out here on the road to Ys, or she... already drowned, or just got back from drowning or, y'know, something kinda like that. She's got seaweed in her hair and damp, clumpy robes and a, like, 10,000 meter stare or something, 'cause wowzers. Goshies. And Yue'd really like to ask, among other things, if she's ok and would she like a blanket and how is she dripping wet all the way out here?! But she opens her mouth to start asking things and the woman starts up and, well actually? She doesn't say anything at all. But Yue feels the strangest pressure in the back of her head that she's gotta tell her story again, so she does and then she's out of time again.

And, uh, lemme stop you here for a second, 'cause I'm sure you see where this is goin'. There's a lot of people on the road, and all of 'em have time to hear about Yue, or leastwise most of 'em do. But not a floofleheckin' one of 'em's got even half a minute to talk about themselves. This ain't their time, see? Maybe if Yue was a wandering historian things'd be different. This'd be a golden moment in the land of anthr... uh. Anthropomommy... um? Boring people history stuff. But she's not, is she? She's Yue, the wandering swordswoman. The Wolf of the Sky Castle. This is her story, her and her friends'. These lot're all, uh, whaddyacallem... camelos! Nice. Take that, literacy courses!

So let's skip the part where Yue walks away from everyone just a pinch disappointed. We don't got all day, so let's just go over a few of the sights and get back to bein' stuck, mmkay? Yeah.

She sees an angel with feathery wings that shine in the sun and metal skin that shines even brighter, arm wrestling a child dressed half in animal pelts and half in some high-fashion military uniform whatsit. The angel loses four times before she loses her temper and kicks up a storm of dust so thick she's never seen again by anyone (who's in this story). She sees a priestess in the whole getup playing Wolf Go with a titanic white wolf in snazzy leather armor. It's hard to tell from a distance, but she looks like she's even better at the game than Cyanis! I mean, she's fully dressed and they must've been stuck here for who knows how long. But then again, the way that big ol' wolf is smirking (wait what how) at her... maybe not.

A pretty girl with a guitar and purple highlights in her hair leans against the shady side of a rock and plays folk rock for anybody with time to stop and listen. A smaller, scarier, darker-dressed girl sneers at her and drowns her out with waves of heavy metal. A cosplayer in straight-out-of-anime schoolgirl clothes duels a leather-clad biker chick pool cue to naginata for the right to be named Sasha. A knight in full, heavy looking armor with a crippled left arm plays cards with an endless line of would-be challengers. Every one of them walks away handing something shiny and valuable looking to the woman with the ridiculous neck ruff standing behind her, who smells like she's made of cologne.

Overhead and impossibly loud, a figure in black goes screaming by hooked up to some kind of Burrower tech and what I hope to gosh are homemade wings. An elven woman with hair dyed in every color of the rainbow and so many guns strapped to her person it makes the six-swords question from earlier seem quaint watched the black streak blow by, and laughs so hard she drops to the ground. Another woman (gosh there are a lot of women here, isn't that weird) hangs out the window of a car looking like she's about to lose a long fight with the hangover fairy. The tan driver smiles and gives her a little kiss on the back of the neck, for... luck.

There are heroes and villains and kisses and cuddles and a dozen things besides, and to make it past them all, Yue need to tell the story of how she, of all possible people, got here so many times that she loses her voice in the process. But even that sacrifice's got its blessings, because there's a detail in that story that's missing that she hadn't paid enough attention to before now. How could she have let this happened? She almost ruined the whole trip!

With a blush and a smile on her face, Yue sneaks up on Rose. She draws her sword with all the skill and poise these weeks of practice will let her have, and... taps it playfully against the side of the Conciliatory Ice-Star, uh, Flute. Upon her shoulder, and adorable and pretty princess forest fox yips like she's trying to take over for her mistress' missing voice. And if I say so myself she does an amazing job of it.

Hey. Hey Rose. Rosie. Hey. Hey. Hey. Rose. Rose. Rosalyn. Can I call you Rosalyn? Can I... no. Ok. Hey. Hey. But, hey! We should duel. C'mon! Just for fun, just to learn, just to see! You're the only one, y'know? The only friend that Yue's got who she's never had a match with. We gotta fix it. We gotta fix it, Rosie! Rose~~! Whaddya say, Rose? With all these people watching? A thousand faces from a thousand stories are waiting to see what we new girls can do when we dance! C'mon! C'mon c'mon c'mon, you won't break her, it's ok! Not you! Not her! She promises, she's not being greedy! She promises, she doesn't need to win! She promises, which is to say she promised, you'd share your stories together! So c'mon! C'mon Rose! Rose! Yip! Arf arf yip!

A temporarily muted cutie swordswoman smiles with a look that's halfway between saying sorry and begging. Maybe she doesn't need a guardian. But she'd love a teacher, even if it's just for one lesson. And there's no better place to learn, than on a stopped-dead road with an audience beyond description. Y'know?

Breathless Dead

The world smells like blood.

Every breath is saturated with it. It crawls down her nose and sticks there until it's climbed on top of everything that might have made it tolerable. It fills her throat like a film, growing thicker and thicker until the air stops fitting inside her. She hacks and wheezes, but every bit of spit she draws up only pushes more blood-smell back down to replace it. There is nothing but the putrid stink of it, and the terror they pushed inside her skull when she was just a kitten. Thicker and thicker, gagging and choking, thicker and fouler and... ghk! Hhhhgk!

Skotia adds the bouquet of half-digested wine and delicacies to her prison, and Bella's mind turns to static. She's on her knees before she knows what's happening. Her stomach contracts with horrible insistence, and the hand she notices is pressed tight against her lips would be useless were she not dry heaving. She wipes her mouth anyway, gasping for air. Her legs have turned to jelly in the blank. She wobbles to her feet anyway, spitting repeatedly until the taste finally clears. That's when she notices she's not amid the ruin and the blood anymore. That's when she notices she's brought Skotia with her; his limp body could not possibly have carried hers. She scowls.

"Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. For a Praetor to be so... nnngh, fuck. Just look at you. Look at you, you fucking asshole! I let a two-bit con artist turn you into meat and I'm the one feeling sick and sorry? If I... if I make it back home, Her Majesty should skin me alive for being so stupid."

The air is cleaner here. Bella sucks it down greedily without seeming to care how unsightly the sound of it is. She is weak and getting weaker, and there's no more room to be hiding it. Only the uneven twitching of her tail gives away the true depths of her disgust, and that only Redana would ever really be able to pick up on it. She flinches, and her ears flutter despondently. How dare she wish that she was here?!

"Don't speak. Don't say a single fucking word to anybody. Ever. Just... just don't in general, ok? Save whatever's... just don't. Don't. The. The Princess... Redana would be scolding me right now. How dare I take a life, wasn't I raised better than this? Well I! I wasn't, ok?! Like I asked for this! They just. Listen to me. Idiot. Like it matters. Like a Servitor gets to pick. Dance, Bella! Sing, Bella! Drink the wine Bella, win the Games, Bella! Not like that, you stupid girl! Stay alive! Die! Kill! Don't! I! I!!"

Tears are falling from her eye so fast she couldn't blink them back if she tried. Her shoulders tremble as she lifts an arm to wipe them away on her ruined fur. Pathetic. Pathetic. All her power, useless. All her pride misplaced. Pathetic. Every choice and every order lead to the same place. How could everything she ever wanted hurt her this much? Apollo. Apollo demanded she live. Apollo sent her here, for this specific purpose. He taught her about the wider world just so she could destroy it. Was it so important that a monster run about like this? Was there anything she got to pick?

She looks at Skotia, blackened and hideous and breathing raggedly beneath her. As suddenly as they started, Bella's tears ebb. Thank Hera that Redana would never know this happened. But if she, if she had one wish, O Goddess... could you tell her anyway? She bends down to lift Skotia in her arms, only to fall over in a painful heap. He's covered in so much of her blood she can't even tell where his wounds are anymore.

"Up. Get up, you fucking idiot. Pets never abandon their owners, understand me? Owners never abandon their pets. So get up. Up! I'm out of time. I..." she looks up toward the ceiling. That's where she's going. Where she can overlook everything. Where she can see the night sky, "We are going to save Beautiful. And then after that, nothing else fucking matters. So just... don't slow me down. Or I'll tear you into such tiny pieces even Hades won't want you."

There's enough energy left in Bella to put Skotia's arm around her shoulder. So that's what she does. These trembling legs can shuffle faster than most can walk, even now. She could go faster still if she abandoned him. Bella adjusts her grip to get more of his weight on top of her. She's going to make it. She's going to make it.

If there was any point to all her journey, it must be this.