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She observes the sword in her hand with curiosity. Her head tilts as she lifts it up and turns it about in what dim light filters through the rain. How strange. She thrusts it through the air with a dull whistle. Unsatisfying. She pulls it closer to her face; the itch is building, burning. Insistent. Unignorable.

She puts claw to blade, and slides it up and down the length of the sword. Ahhhhh, these screams. XIII shivers with pleasure, and her tail twitches in anticipation. The release of tension. Delicious. She closes her hand around the edge of the weapon, and with a last sigh it snaps into pieces that fall around her feet like glittering treasures. The name burns into her spine, drawing a howl from her lips.

"Va... Si... La..."

It was not a bad plan, for the record. You were brave enough to call her attention to you, and wise enough to realize that a quip and a concealed pistol would not do for dueling's sake. With the rain obscuring your scent and the flock of Kaeri obscuring your motion, you could have been a shadow. A person could hide forever in a field she wasn't permitted to thresh. And if you'd used these tactics on Bella, they would have worked to perfection. Stupid Bella, prideful Bella, broken Bella... an incomplete creature pawing uselessly at the light.

But you are hunted. You are marked by a creature with no world outside of the names carved into her skin. XIII reaches an empty hand toward you, across the empty chasm between you and the field of blooming flowers. You can't help but blink your eyes as you scrabble to your feet, and in that single instant you are caught. Her fingers squeeze the stormy air. Her claws bite into the distance between you. Her fingers squeeze your throat like ripe fruit. Her claws dig into your skin, drawing five tiny rivulets of blood to stain your shirt and collar.

She lifts you into the air as easily as she would a child, and slams you down into the muck hard enough to crater the wet sand around you. Sword broken, back aching, lying in the muck. Is this starting to feel familiar? The Diodekoi drops on top of you and squeezes your ribs between her thighs. Her hand keeps clenched about your throat the entire time. The bulky armor obscures her form, but it smells like her. You know. You've been in this position once before. The wet, blue-black braid that slides around her neck and into your face is clumsier than that pretentious so-called "Praetor" would ever have permitted, but even so. Even so, it's such a specific color. The pressure of her legs is familiar. It is awful. You can feel your bones shuddering in protest, and she squeezes tighter still.

You'll never forget the feeling of that moment, that day. There were bonsai then, too. It hurt then, too. You can never, ever forget the sight of that white tail whipping behind her. Her eyes, barely visible through her mask, match now. They are not the eyes that you remember. They are milky, cloudy silver, stained with flecks of angry red throughout. But it's her. It's her. You know for an absolute fact that it's her.

"Va. Si. La." she hisses, and her voice is strained and tinny, with a horrible echo that does not come from her mask

She doesn't bend down to kiss you this time. Her hand clenches tighter around your throat, until your vision starts to blur around the edges. You can watch her lift a hand with five perfect, wicked claws above you. An offering. A sacrifice. This is how you die. She's the one that kills you.

...Except. You're not alone this time, are you?
Wait, what the? Where did I? When did?

Did I... did I actually do it? Is this what I was trying to do? Ohmygosh! Oh my goshies!

My footsteps feel heavier than I'm expecting as I run across the unyielding and shiny black surface of what I guess must be a road. I mean, it looks a lot like the old roads the cars tend to stick to but just... fancier. And a whole lot more all over the place to boot. I figure it has to be for tires and robots and stuff, 'cause it's got no spring to it at all. When I hit it flat it ring through my soles all the way up to my hips, but now that I'm moving it's hard to make myself stop. My lungs burn. My legs ache. I feel... free.

Plus, I know an evil lair when I see one. I can't say I'd ever wanna live in a place like this. The trees all look sad and samey, and the lights kinda hurt my eyes. Not a blade of grass or flower anywhere I can see, and there's not even the far off screech of a hawk the grinding of gears or the thrum of the music that's dumpin' everywhere heavier than rain. But still. But still. It's got colors I've never seen before, shiny screens everywhere I look and buildings, buildings, buildings taller than mountains.

I run past a run-down looking stand in the middle of the park that's painted with faded and cracked red and white stripes. It smells overwhelmingly like old spun sugar and caramel, and when I turn my head I think I even spot a row of cream-stuffed cakes. Yeah. Can't say I hate this place, either.

Machines, shaped like people, shaped like weapons, shaped like dogs, and shaped like long-ago forgotten dreams come shambling towards me in a wave that reminds me a bit of a stormcloud. I feel myself turn on my heels and skid to a halt, suckin' in air and squeezin' my sword tight in my hand while I take a second to ready myself before I've gotta meet 'em. I see swords and shields and batons, things that look like guns and tubes and cannons or rocket launchers or whatever all that kinda stuff is. I see sharpened metal fangs and broken arms with wires danglin' down and sparkin' all over the place that are jagged and sharp enough to pass for a knife. I feel my heart poundin' in my chest, and my tongue lick across my dry lips. I draw my sword across the air in front of me in a slow circle pattern, and force myself to breathe slower. I'm not tired. I can't be tired. I'm not gonna make it if I'm tired.

I knew it. I knew it! I knew there was so much more to see and do than I could find inside just one adventure. Suddenly I feel about ten times lighter. I dunno how I got here but (pardon my language) darn it I'm not gonna waste this chance. I can do it. I can grow. I can be the hero, all by myself, in a place where for once I can't afford to lose.

All of a sudden, I see the city, erm, park? Uh... park-city come to life in a very different way. Monitors flicker 'n flare bright white one by one by one and then all at once they quit their animation loops and advertisements to focus on a video feed of a single subject. Which is, uh, me. Or at least, it's gotta be me 'cause there's nobody else here for it to be.

But I don't look a thing like myself. I can't help but stop and stare. No wonder runnin' felt so heavy. My feet are wrapped in heavy, black lacquered boots with thick treads and angry laces and a whole mess of buckles that wind more than halfway up my calves. Silver chains dangle from the tops and click into loops just above the heels. It's hard to tell what color the pants are with all these weird lights and the unhealthy yellow tint the air's got, but I think they're supposed to be white? And anyway they're thicker and tougher than anythin' I've ever worn before, and made of pockets besides. Black kneepads and a series of belts keep 'em cinched tight around my legs, with extra pouches for holdin' knives and... are those bullet clips or whatever they're called? The belt around my waist has even more of both.

I blink. This can't really be me, can it? But when I move my hand to touch my exposed belly, I see it move on the screens too. And sure enough, I touch skin. The tight, snakeskin patterned top is cropped up by my ribs, and everythin' from there down to the belt's just exposed. It's... I'm not exactly showin' muscles or anythin', but I also don't look as soft as I remember. Then again, I guess I've been doin' a lot of extra workin' out I didn't used to. It makes me smile, which surprises me 'cause I was sure I was gonna blush. The jacket I've got on top of it is ash gray with heavy black shoulders. I shift, and I can feel something like armor plates sliding around inside it. I guess in spite of everything this is a war outfit.

I recognize the sword in my hand. After all, it's mine. The same one I've been tryin' to be worthy of ever since I saw that shrine. But I don't know a thing about the others I've got on me. That's right, others. More than one others. There's a super thin and delicate one on my left hip with a fancy, twirly handguard that I kinda like a lot. There's a katana, like legit a katana, tied to my belt sitting crossed above the first one. I've got a dagger on my right hip and I think the handle's made of... yup, that's yew. And on my back a silly-big uh... I don't even know, would you call this a broadsword? It's huge, basically me-sized and too wide for a sheathe, how did I miss this while I was runnin'? How'd I miss any of these? I guess sometimes you just get absorbed in the motion or somethin', maybe it's supposed to all feel normal.

Even my hair's weird. And by weird I mean... cool? Somebody tied it into, like, a dozen braids and then pulled those up into a ponytail, so for once instead of frizzin' and floofin' every which way it's all out of my way and makes me look wild and kinda city-wise elegant at the same time. And I say somebody, 'cause it definitely wasn't me. I don't know how to tie the first one of these, let alone pull all these up together in anythin' like a proper hairstyle. Wowies. And lookin', I realize there's a pair of goggles danglin' around my neck like jewelry. I take a second to tug 'em up over my eyes, and suddenly the light around here's a lot less glarey. So that's nice.

...You're probably thinking it's weird of me to take so much time starin' at myself, aren't you? Aren't I in a fight? Well, I mean. Uh. Puttin' it bluntly, yeah. But, I just. I dunno. I've never, like, seen myself like this, y'know? My whole life I just threw on whatever wasn't completely trashed, and if it looked nice that's only 'cause Sis picked it out. And then I got that dress from the swordswoman's shrine and it was like, oh ok, guess this is my one special thing, y'know? So just, like, steppin' into the follow through on that cut I did and realizin' I'm suddenly done up like some kinda... uh, yeah, anime hero and I, like, I dunno yeah. I'm a little out of time for it, but I had to stop and stare. Hope you don't mind it too much.

There's a missile screamin' toward my face. Honest to goodness, a missile! Or, uh, maybe this only qualifies as a, y'know what I don't got time for this, it's gonna explode me, gosh gosh gosheeeeep! But somehow my body knows what to do. I've had so many great teachers at this point I guess I can't help but know. Anybody'd do the same if they were as lucky as I've been. I feel my feet plant wide apart, so I can take a big step full've hip and back power. I toss my precious sword above my head and reach with both hands for the monster blade on my back. Step slash swish! The missile splits in half and I guess 'cause I did it right neither half explodes until it hits the ground on either side behind me. I follow through the weight of the swing, rolling over my shoulder, and return the sword to my back as I pop up. I barely even bobble my real sword when I go to catch it. Wow, I just... I really did that, huh? I've got a lot've hugs and presents to give out when I get home. Also I have to buy the presents. Here's hopin' I'm secretly rich. Hahaha, can you imagine?

There's no time for thoughts; the front of the army's already on me! The thin sword comes out and stabs like a snake, pah pah pah! Into the faceplates of several machines, and they each topple as I slide it back out. I flick it clean and cut another one in half with my favorite sword. The dagger comes out in time to block a sword strike, and I run up on the shoulders of several lungin' fighters to flip up in the air and cut a crescent moon's worth of 'em down with a draw-slash from the katana. And from there it's a dance. I can feel the rhythm just poundin' in my bones, so I follow it like a... no, not like a good girl. Like a sneak. Like Hyra would. But still, I do follow it. We're a mess of motion, this army 'n me, flippin' and twirlin' and clashin' till there's a pile of 'em at my feet and my legs're startin' to wobble, but here comes another wave!

Somethin' comes straight at my head from up above, and it's only dumb luck that gets my sword arm in the way in time. Truth be told I was panic-flailin' cause I heard a noise that sounded like a... never mind. But we crash down on the ground together and I realize that I'm not dead, and also that this robot had a jetpack. Which, uh, if I'm doin' my math right, means I've got a jetpack now. A cut's as good as strippin' it clean, and then twirl click pose don't-ask-me-how-this-works-cause-Iono it locks onto my jacket and now I'm gonna get to fly! I mean, I guess I could already, but this is way faster and I can save up my own energy for the fights ahead of me. Plus, it's cool. It's so cool, y'know?

I can't keep from grinning ear to ear. I feel invincible. I feel proud. I feel like I'm being lifted up on the shoulders of all the incredible women who offered me their hands. But, like, for once instead of coasting on their talent, I feel like I'm doing 'em proud. I wish they could see me. I guess I'll have to tell the story later. Heeee, wonder if anyone'll believe me? Prolly not. But just in case, I should say something cool here. A hero would, uh... oh yeah! Introduce herself and really leave an impression. I flourish my sword and hold it straight in front of me. My lips curl into a confident smirk and I use my free hand to slick back my bangs. And then. And then!

"My name is Yue, of the Terraced Lake! And I've come to kick butts and chew bubblegum! And I'm all out of butts! So I, um, need to borrow... yours?"

Oh, for... darn it! Darn it! I wince so hard I can feel my stomach turn inside out and upside down at the same time. Guess I'm just dumb ol' me no matter what fancy tricks I learn, or how I dress myself up. But maybe it's ok? I mean, no one's laughin' at least. Or I can't hear it if they are. Maybe I, I dunno. Maybe it's ok to be me. I can juggle bein' cool and bein' Yue at the same time, right? Least a little? Hokay! Just you wait Hyra, when I get back to that picnic I'm comin' there a hero!

Bring! It! On!!
I guess... I guess there's really nothing left for me to do but smile, is there?

Honestly, I can't think of anything. This all worked out amazingly. Better than I planned, even. Pardon my language, but sheesh. Better'n I coulda hoped for. Honestly. Not that I'm some kinda mastermind or anythin', but... well I mean, I dunno. You agree, right? You've been here longer than I have, honestly. Right from the start, when I was still tucked into my silly little house hidin' from demons, you were watchin' everybody else. You ever see these girls be so amazin'? Did you know they could be? 'Cause honestly, I'm kinda shocked.

Hehe, that's kinda rude, isn't it? When I met Rose I, I mean. Of course I thought she was brave and beautiful and stronger than, like, twenty horses. She carried those muscles like they were treasures from some forgotten vault and just. Wowies, gosh. But honestly it took me a good long while to see past that and realize she was hurtin' inside. Always so scared of breakin' the world, y'know? Or havin' it run away from her so she'd be all alone. It's, mm, it's hard. For someone like me, I mean, to understand where she was comin' from. I never had any strength at all, I couldn't even imagine what it'd feel like to be scared've all the strength runnin' through my body. I kinda still can't, bein' fully honest.

But the girl she is now? I think she's stronger than the one I met at the start. She's strong enough to choose something I could never, never, never manage in a hundred years, not if I tried every single day. See, Rose? She's strong enough to not be strong. Does that make any sense? I dunno. She's just, y'know... y'know? Imagine askin' me to choose not to pick up a sword, now that I know how. Or I mean, like, I know she doesn't have to pick, but still. But still. Even if you told me I could spend the rest of my life with Hyra I couldn't do it like she does. I wouldn't wanna. But she? She looks so beautiful. She looks so happy! And I'm so happy for her. All my life for as long as I get to live it I'm gonna take every chance I get to hug her, invite her over to tea, and swap ideas for dresses and stuff. She's bound to have a million in that silly head of hers! And I mean, I can't be wearing this same thing for the rest of my life, right? Sooner or later and about a million stitches from now this has gotta be a special occasion dress. Maybe I should... hm.

Also I can't believe Kat beat Rose before I could. Kat. Kat! Little flooferdoodle, where have you been hiding all your strength? Hehe, look at her. My precious little bean. She's so pleased with herself. I'm gonna need to break out the good foxnip soon, she's earned it.

And Hyra beat Yin. Hyra beat Yin!! Remember what it was like, at the start? I thought she was gonna be some kinda final boss but then Hyra just... pow! Wowies. I can't believe how pretty she is. When she had her hair up, wow, and now her hair is down and wow wow and her armor is so, so, so! I want to peel it off of her. I do. I'm sorry for just saying it right in front of you, but I feel how I feel. I wanna get her alone, by a pool or a bath or I don't even care, and I wanna slip her incredible shining armor off her legs and arms and chest and waist and neck, and then I wanna kiss the skin that's underneath it. I wanna give her a bath and get my fingers tangled up in that wet, silver hair and listen to her breathing. I wanna lie in her lap, while she's still wet and naked and press my head against her and listen to the breath come in and out of her body and the beating of her heart. I just, wow. She's so strong. She's so brave. She's so, so smart. She could do anything to me. Anything she wants. And I'd do anything to her, too. We could be pet and master, princess and handmaiden, or hero and villain, or we could both be shining swordswomen together or a pair of cuties, or anything else I can't think of at the moment.

And, and, and. You wanna know something else? I'm gonna marry her, too. But I'm not gonna ask until I manage to beat her in a duel. Maybe that's silly. But I feel like she'd appreciate the gesture. Don't you?

I, uh. Oh. Sorry, this is distracting. I didn't think Chen was gonna see through... I mean, no! I didn't do anything, that sillyhead! She's the one who, who, who, whoosh! Wow! Up in the sky like snowflakes that refused to fall but drifted, drifted, danced and sang, just, just, just, delight and teasing and. Goshies. Yeah. It was her. She's so amazin'. I still, I. I can't even believe it. I can't believe she's my friend. I can't believe she let me come with her. Can't believe she taught me. Can't believe. I can't believe it. I can't. I, I, I, I, I can't. I can't. I can't. I. No. It just doesn't. I can't. I can't, ok?

She shines so bright, like a star. She, ah. Her hugs are so warm. You've no idea. So warm and soft. Even softer than her smile, now that she's gone and floofened herself. I didn't even realize that was an option! Not like this, anyway. She looks so happy. She looks so happy! All my friends look so happy!! It's so amazin' that even after all this time, talkin' and walkin' and trainin' and learnin' everythin' I could about all of 'em, they've all, every single one of them, managed to surprise me in the end.

Maybe I'm just a sillyhead. But you think so too, right? They're all. They've grown so much. Done so much. Danced just so pretty. Did... did I look like that? Iono. Problem with bein' me is that I can't watch me. They oughta invent a way to do that, I say. But anyway, no. I don't think so. Qiu dazzled like a diamond. Chen sparkled like a whole constellation of stars. Rose glittered like gold and somehow like the tiniest, most beautiful flame in the whole world. And Hyra stole my heart, even though she already had it. Oh, and did I mention she beat Yin?

I guess it's true. There really isn't anything for me to do besides smile. It's all done. Don't worry, I can do it easy. I can even talk, not that it's polite. Didn't really have time to tie a proper gag, see, and I kinda panicked and just did it like I remembered seein' in the stories. But it turns out you can just kinda... open your mouth and talk anyway? If nothing's in there? But I, I can't. I can't let Chen know. I know she knows but still. If I break the spell, it stops feelin' special. If I make a comment right now, everything ends.

...Oh. Well that's silly. It's so hard to see right now. Stupid tears, nobody invited you! B-but I, I, I! I can't stop! Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm ruining the whole thing, y'know? But I can't help it. I don't, I don't...

I don't want it to end!

I'm not ready yet! I don't wanna go! There's so much left to do, isn't there? There's so much left to see! Kingdoms and mountains and rivers and cities and grasses and so many kinds've animals! And people! So many I haven't met! So many stories I didn't get to be part of! Oh, shut up I know it's greedy! But I! I! I never got...

I'm the only one who didn't win, in the end. Hyra, Chen, Rose, Cyanis, Qiu, Katherine. Not me. I wanted. I tried so hard. I wanted to make everybody proud of me, and I just... I didn't do it. I couldn't do it, in the end. And that's where we are. I'm not ready, please, show me the next vista! Pick another story, please, please! There's, there's gotta be a surprise twist villain, a, a, a, I dunno, a quest to do! A shrine to the demon swordswoman's ancient lover where we can finally learn her name! A cat stuck in a tree, anything! This can't be it, I've got so much left I wanna try! There's so much growing left for me to do if I'm gonna catch up to everyone. There's... there's so much and I...

B-but this is it. Isn't it? It's all tied up. City saved. All the hearts are shinin'. I even miss my boring little cottage. Never a good sign, is it? But I just. Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just wish I had a little more time. I just wish I coulda showed you a tiny bit more. It's not fair. It's not fair, is it? Stories are so beautiful. So amazin'. I got to be part of one and I'm so, so grateful. But no one told me that had to end!

My... my lips are curling up. In a smile. I think? I think so. I can't see right now. My face is tremblin' so much right now. But I'm pretty sure... I'm smiling. I'm nodding my head. Yeah, Chen. Y-yeah. I was a naughty little usurper and you beat my champion, f-fairer and squarer than I coulda imagined. So. Yeah. Let's go, you've earned it. I'm ready. No, really, I'm ready. And I'm happy. I am happy. You, listen. Ok? Gran Gran used to say, you can care a lot and not cry. But you never cry because you don't care. So come on, let's go. It's the happy ending everybody's won. My amazing, perfect friends.

...I'da made a lousy princess anyway. You think so too. Right?
A pop when she rolls her shoulder. A snap when she flicks her tail. A crunch when she stretches her neck. Wake up, XIII. Mother says it's time to wake up. So rise. Taste the air. Smell the wetness and the dust. Feel the rain on your body, isn't this your first time? Wake up, XIII, sweet XIII.

Good morning.

She flexes her fingers slowly. They curl in to touch her palms. They stretch out to full extension. Her claws slice the raindrops in half. Her true claws. When she moves, her body sings. Every ripple of muscle is a rush of pure pleasure. More. Give her more. She sighs: a noise like venting steam.

Eyes open.

Mother's garden swells in greeting. Blood drips over every petal, leaf, and limb. It soaks into the ground, so potent that no storm could wash it clean. Ah. Wonderful fertilizer, is it not? She breathes deeper, lets her head tilt higher to greet the sky. Catch the bouquet. She must teach her lungs to breath. Eyes to see. Body to move.

Her lungs fill with death-soaked air and she hunches forward. Low. Low. Lower. Till her claws bite the floor of the pyramid and she tastes its pain between her fingers. She holds. And holds. And holds. The burning inside of her is ecstasy. In an instant she snaps to full height, and then past it. Her foot plants behind her. Spine curls. Head tosses back to the heavens. Clumsy braid flaps dully against her back. Her arms curl out to either side of her, and she can almost feel them crush the air.

She does not scream. She roars. She splits the storm above with an inhuman noise that carries from ship to ship. There is nothing of Bella in that noise. Nothing of weakness. There is rage and there is power and there is the promise of absolute death. She roars until the cannons stop firing to admire her. Even the garden pauses for a moment. All is stillness in the rain.

She descends.

She does not run. Does not fall. Does not drop. She reaches out with one hand and tears away the space between her and the ground. The distance retreats from underneath her feet and in less than the flicker of an eye, she is among them. Her neck tilts with curiosity to see Epistia, soaked in thick sap and the gore of plants. The scythe lifts in greeting. XIII's body grows hotter in anticipation. Her tail flicks behind her. Even now, the tell she cannot help but leave.

The blade whistles through the air, straight toward her head. XIII vanishes underneath it. Her palm kisses the Ceron princess' stomach. Her claws bite flesh just after. Hiss. Sing. A dance ensues. Tooth and claw and boot. The wet sand shudders beneath their feet. An even match. A perfect dance. The world is blood and bleeding and pleasure, pleasure, pleasure, building like a wave inside of her.

Epistia's scythe returns. Called for. Unwanted. Interloper! XIII whips around like a hurricane and smashes it out of the air with a wild swing. Her foot comes down on the shaft and snaps it in half. The blade weeps where her claws held it. Crumbling. Useless. Not fit to thresh a field. Useless. Useless!

Her foot lifts into Epistia's jaw. Her hand follows a heartbeat later. Lift and throw. Soar. They rise ten meters through the air, the Ceronian a twisting, wild, desperate thing. XIII follows as an incarnation of brutal composure. Her claws tear out calves. Slice open a thigh. Shatter fingers. She climbs the princess like stairs, kicks, and together they land on the ground without visible motion.

Epistia's scream is wet, horrible, and short. XIII twists a leg and feels a rib turn to dust underneath her heel. She steps away, and waits. And waits. And waits. Her partner only shivers, only shudders, only gags and coughs and tries to howl. XIII clicks her neck left. Then right. Her toes dip under Epistia's spine.

She sniffs.

Epistia rises, as if on wings. She floats on a sea of potential energy and flawless execution. XIII's fist meets her stomach, and she flies. The Diodekoi make take a moment to watch a victim bounce through the trail she'd carved so effortlessly minutes before, but no more than three times. To waste more admiring her own work is a crime.

Rain hits her body and comes hissing away as steam. Good morning, XIII. Sweet XIII. Mother says it's time to wake up. How does it feel?

She turns away and marches into the battlefield on strong, deliberate steps. Each swing of her arms carves deeper and deeper scars into the earth in front of her.

She stills, but for the steady stomping of her feet. Her fingers trace the shape of the claws that had always belonged on her fingers. She is born at last. She lives, at last. Finally, finally, finally. She will be a Good Girl.

It is time. Her tail twitches twice.
This must be how Bella sees the world. That's a lot of time wasted being jealous, then. She can smell the rot and the sweetness and the warmth of harvest time all floating about her in a toxic miasma, and she hates it. She can hear the echoing of a thousand thousand voices screaming at her as if each one of them was perched on her shoulder, and all she wants to do is curl up on the ground and cover her ears before she bleeds out from the trauma of it all. She can feel the rain and the wind and the heat of her own body meeting the chill of the air, and it makes her limbs feel sluggish and heavy when she needs them to be faster than ever. Her stomach feels like it's full of biting ants and she finds herself an instant away from screaming, an instant away from death, because she pictures it and in the sudden rush of terror her mouth opens to vomit because it is true, it is, Demeter has planted tiny vermin inside her and they're eating her alive and, and, and!!

She is saved by the flash of silver. By moonlight in a suit. Beljani clasps her fingers over her mouth, and masters herself. Even though she has to bite them hard enough to draw blood to make them do it. Stupid! Now she's leaving a trail. Her heart pounds frantic and possessed, like it's furiously pushing the little dribbles out her faster and faster. Her breathing feels labored and desperate and horrifyingly loud to her own overstimulated ears. The sniveling and sniffling is even worse. This is cruel, she thinks. This is so cruel. Why did it have to be Demeter? How was she supposed to follow the path in front of her when every little part of her body was betraying her? The more it fought to keep her alive, the more it pulled this "weed" back into the goddess' grasp!

Another sliver of moonlight, stitched into a suit. All around her is power: the armor, the spears, the poise, the certainty of battle and even the lustful joy that accompanies its form. Wings beat in patterns that drown out the sound of footsteps and obscure movements, despite the pointlessness of it all in the incredible chaos of this clusterfrig. They are tall. They are proud. They are strong. They are everything Beljani is not, scrambling in between them while occasionally dipping down almost on all fours and hunching in on herself to disappear as completely as possible. Pathetic. There's much of the mouse in her, scurrying toward a prayed-for safety, and almost nothing of the wolf she took so much pride in till now.

It hurts. Oh gods, it hurts. Her knees hurt where she bends them. Her back hurts where she bounced off those mushrooms on her way down the pyramid. Her nose hurts from the stench of plant gore stuffed into every breath she takes. Her eyes hurt from the rain and from her tears and from the strain of holding them open all this time. Don't close them! Don't! If she closes them a hand will stitch them shut and she'll never see again! Artemis! Artemis! Please please please, she's begging, don't leave! D-don't...

l e a v e

Her gift is tiny. Dormant. Cold. No pleasure. None. Fear. Run. Fragile. One. Body. Easy. Break. Run. Stop. Die. Stop. Weed. Rot. Compost. Stop. Die. Nourish. Food. Stop. Don't. Follow. Turn. Around. Cease. Still. Be. Useful. Become. Food. You. Are. Prey. Pretend. Be. Predator. Stop. Don't. Lie. Don't. Lie! Moon. Won't. Save. You. Stop. Stop. Plant. Feet. Grow. Roots. You. Are. Many. Are. One. Be. Many. Be. Seeds. Be. Useful. No. Use. Stop. Stop. Die!

Beljani's neck feels heavy. Where the blood drips from her fingers onto the the wet sand, wildflowers blossom instantly. Her throat turns dry and even drinking all of Zeus' rain wouldn't be enough to wet it again. And yet. And yet. Her feet keep moving. Her eyes zip wildly about, looking for the trail. Even when she stumbles, she is precise. Doesn't touch a living thing. Doesn't come close to it. Where she has to, she pushes, and even though she doesn't invite a single Kaeri into herself, their dance suits her. The terror phalanx adjusts its formation flawlessly to accommodate her without giving up her position.

If... if Demeter wants to harvest her, she thinks, she'll have to hunt. And that's the domain of another goddess altogether. Her pride as an assassin is worth at least that much. Beautiful and Bella are worth that much. She sucks in another terrified breath, and this time the garden smells like cigar smoke. Another flash of silver catches her eyes. This time, she follows the path it implies instead of chasing straight after it.

She tucks her bloody fingers into her armpit, and the trail of flowers vanishes behind her. She creeps low, sometimes boosting herself forward with her good hand. It's a wolf's posture, she tells herself. Her nose is running and her eyes are bleary-red, but do you see her? Can you smell her, Bella? Your sister is fighting all by herself.

"I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die," she mutters a magic spell under her breath with every darting step, "I won't, I won't, I won't. Not like this. You can't make me."
Within seconds she's soaked through to her bones; half with rain and half with sweat. It is the most miserable Beljani has ever felt in her life. And also the most awake. It's like being dropped into a tank of water while still half-groggy from a nap she kept trying to prolong. She has never felt less of an urge to spread herself and melt away like honey. To disappear, yes. To bury herself in a hole and never ever come back out, or to turn and with a flash and a crack disappear forever into some oasis where nobody would find her, yes yes. But in this moment she is one body. She thinks as one body, one mind, one will, that begins at the tips of her ears and ends where her toes dig into her boots. No sweeties required.

Because she is completely, utterly alone. There is nobody here to help her. Nobody. Nobody at all. All of those slaves, the Lanterns, the Alcedi, and the weirdo band of misfits who'd somehow brought them all together? They weren't company. They weren't safety. They were the dead, still in the process of discovering they wouldn't need to breathe anymore. Where was the hope in becoming ten thousand corpses?

The Kaeri were likewise useless. For all of their gaudy terror tactics and preening, and every stupid little pissing match they got into with absolutely everything they came across, Humanity had built them from the ground up to be one of their 'warrior races'. That made them puppets, more useless than a hand crank as far as potential allies were concerned. Give them an order and they'd obey, as long as their precious chain of command was in play. There's a reason Bella was able to snap her fingers and flip who was running things between them and the mice. They were dancing in the palm of the Master now, and the most horrifying part of that idea is that they probably weren't even ignorant about it. They wanted this. And there'd be no forcing them out of it except by killing them, and she wouldn't be the least bit surprised to learn they'd all willingly swallowed death seeds before the fighting started. Disgusting. Horrible. Awful. Non-persons. Useless.

"...Bella? Bella please, I'm scared. Take me with you when you go. I can't keep, I... don't want to, I won't, I... please. See, I'm asking nice! Me! Haha, come on, laugh! Say something, insult me, I don't care! Please! Are you in there, Bella?! Answer me!"

"Ksssshhhhhhhaaaaaah."

And now, Beljani knew true hurt. Now her body aches, not just from uncomfortable, chafing armor and the cold sting of this cruel rain, but from the pressure of the scream building inside of her. And the needle burying itself in her heart. Alone. Alone, alone, alone, all alone. Even Artemis wasn't listening. Bella was gone, all that was left was a stupid Diodekoi. Her eyes sting with hot tears, and the only thing around to comfort her was the idea that in this awful rain there was no need to bother wiping them dry.

"You idiot! Fine then, I hate you! Go! Leave! Fu... Fuuu... F-fuck you! I never want to see you again!"

She screams as loud as she wants to, now. She pounds her fists against "XIII's" armor, and screams even louder when the heat and the spines hurt her hands. There's no point in holding back. There's no point in acting the good girl anymore. She knows, ok! She's not stupid! When you're the only one your so-called mother didn't bother tying strings to, that said everything that needed saying. So now she was allowed to scream. Now she was allowed to cry and curse and say anything she felt like. Not like it would kill her any deader. Not like death could be any scarier, now that this awful garden had sprouted.

"What are you doing, you stupid idiot weapon? Look, the meat's all over there you moron! Go claw it to pieces! Go, just... just go! What are you waiting for?! Does mommy need to point her finger before you get the message? Rrrrgh, just... get... away! From! Me!"

A sudden bolt of lightning sends her shrieking and falling to all fours. No no no no no, please Mother no, don't kill her! Artemis, Artemis! She's sorry, no no no no please she hasn't forgotten! She didn't go and forget her oath, she swears! She promises ok? She's sorry she didn't put it in writing like you prefer, but you've seen her handwriting haven't you? Just, just, something, anything, here, just... just!

Scribe squawks and nips her on the cheek. Her wings flutter with beautiful glyphs as she puffs herself up importantly and spits deadly lasers that carve markings into the stone platform they're all still standing on. Beljani's eyes open wide, and she dives to cover the dragon before the Master could turn from her insane cackling long enough to notice the little wonder her useless daughter had brought with her to the battlefield. She doesn't even stop to think about how stupid and dangerous a thing it is to do, how she's absolutely about to lose one or even all of her limbs to her own damn pet. Just cover, cover, protect!

She smells something burning, and it takes her a moment of sniffling and whimpering to realize it isn't her. She glances up at the sky to see if she's safe. She heaves a shuddering sigh of relief. And then she slowly turns her head to look at Bella. At the corner of the prayer slip clinging to her thigh that's smoldering where a snort of laser must have clipped it. Scribe headbutts her chin and flashes more writing in her face. Prayers.

The dragon's on her shoulder before she realizes she's moving. Beljani leaps and clings to Bella with every bit of strength the gods saw fit to leave in her soft and pampered body. Her armor gives way before Bella's: she ignores the bleeding. Ignores the heat. She's got a whole new letter to write and only her blood for ink. So she needs hold on and write fast before she gets shaken off and thrown down into her worse nightmares come to life.

See? She's putting it in writing this time. Artemis, we humble assassins are your daughters, your employees. Saghakahn forsakes you. We do not. Hades, lord, never forget the coins we left where we killed, where she left only seeds. Zeus. Zeus... she's got no right to ask for anything. But if that... thing gets to pretend to be a parent to her, then hurry up and get this over with. Because she'd rather be an orphan, a corpse, or both than let THAT get to claim her any longer.

Oh gods, she's gonna throw up. Ugh. Please. Please just let her have one last nice thing before you snuff her out. She'll savor it like it's the first treat of her life, she promises.
"You only think that 'cause nobody's done it yet. See what happens, ow ow ow owies, next time you big jerk."

She's laughing when she says it, even though it hurts to laugh. The promise of a next time, that's the important part. She lets her loss lift her by the chin and then she falls into an exhausted heap, but that's just not leaving by way of bein' too worn out for the alternative. That's why she takes everything she's got left and uses it to accept Qiu's little thank you, however she's gotta say it. If she promises a rematch then even if they don't travel together all time, that's as good as... oh!

"Speakin' of impossible," she squeaks as she suddenly and very shakily rises off the ground to fish her new phone out of her bag (and scritch her darling secretary!), "Can you... show me how to, uh, send letters on this thing? They showed me how to make it do music, and I sorta get it but, like, I saw Chen writin' stuff on hers and I thought, y'know, it'd be nice to... st-stay in, y'know. In touch. I mean you've got, what, three kingdoms to run? And I only live in one of 'em so I..."

Yue trails off to just vibe and watch the sunset for a while, 'cause no matter how much you might wish or try otherwise there's moments you can't really add to by talkin'. She smiles and she messes with her phone even though she's got no idea what any of the things she's pressin' on the screen mean or do, just happy in the way only a village girl can be when she's finally got a fancy toy she's heard so much about.

And then something even more beautiful happens. She gasps and leaps to her feet in a fresh surge of energy she didn't know was in her! And maybe it wasn't? Sure didn't feel like it till just a second ago. This could be, oh goshies gosh gosh gosh! This is what Princess magic feels like, isn't it? For realsies Princess magic, and for the first time ever it's not bein' pointed at her like another silly, sodding sword! Her eyes light up like little moons, soft and blue and shimmering in reflection of Hyra's dazzling red. Her smile's as sweet and delicate as the setting sun's. Her phone falls to the ground forgotten as her hands fly up to cup her cheeks. And oh! How she squeals!

Look, everybody! It's her G I R L F R I E N D~~!

"Hyra Hyra Hyra, there you are oh gosh! I missed you, where did you go, oh my gosh and goodness you look amazing! What'd you do with your hair? Does it hurt? You're so pretty! Your outfit's amazing! Are you... glowing? Does that hurt? Ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygosh nevermind, just... just..!"

And then it's kisses. Kisses all the way down. But you knew this would happen, didn't you? You weren't worried for a second. Yue jumped straight over Yin just to make it to her Princess' arms. Didn't even think about it! Maybe didn't even notice she was there! Was this sillyhead supposed to dream of empires and crowns? Did she have ambitions to marry the queen of the planet or something? Maybe she'd wrestle the title and all those shards away from Hyra when her guard was down, and then she'd be the Dark Empress with just the prettiest little concubine~!

No, you know better. And Yue doesn't. The idea that there were targets, or opportunities, or enemies of any sort here with her tonight did not once cross her mind while she was busy crossing the distance between her and the love of her life. The fact that Hyra was glowing, radiant, and powerful like she'd never been before was only excitin' to her inasmuch as her girlfriend looked happy with herself and her lot. She coulda stumbled here with her legs in tiny golden chains and a poor serving girl's rags wrapped around her body and, if Hyra did not look miserable to be so reduced, Yue woulda been just as thrilled to see her like that. Certainly she'd've kissed her just as much. Just as hard, just as soft, and just as all over. They've been apart for a while now, ok? You get... missy when it's been a while? Haven't you ever been tackled by a silly pet when you come home from a long day's chores?

The moment passes. The test is... eh, not really passed so much as crumpled up into a ball and thrown in a waste basket. Two points! Silly game, basket test. Anyway. Yue didn't start her journey with dreams of becomin' a Princess, or a princess or a... man, what a confusin' world we live in, don't you think so? But honestly, it never occurred to her to try. She'll be your handmaiden, Hyra, if that's what you want. Or she'll work hard to lift herself up to your level, but that's a whole other journey and you know better than to short change her on one of those. You'll be taking it together, in either case. Let it go, sweetheart. Let it go, and kiss (and maybe fondle) your silly girlfriend who just dueled the world's most terrifying woman to a standstill while nobody was watching.

And only after kisses, and holding, and being held, does Yue notice Yin. Only after the long ceremony of love and joy and happiness and celebration does she find time and energy for the defeated. She smiles. Yin glares.

"Oh! Hey there, Prince-- oh, erm. I guess it's just Yin now, huh? Yeah, I've got a lot to say to you too!"

They glare at each other, for a good long while. But it's actually Yin who breaks first, and looks away somewhat hurriedly to try her starin' contest at somebody safer instead. Maybe Qiu? Gee, d'you think she's wonderin' if Yue's thinkin' about what she'll look like as a mouse? But Yue shakes her head and laughs.

"But darn it all, I can't remember most of it. Ah well, I guess it couldn't've been important. Anywhich, d'you think like... I mean, have you thought about what to do now? 'Cause you, like, I mean. Don't take this the wrong way ok? Or do. But please don't? But you're not... I mean, like, when I met you I thought, well like, it's been super impossible to remember to call you 'Princess Yin' this whole time. 'Cause you're not, like, remember! About the taking! You weren't... good. At it. You just looked and sounded so angry at everythin' and everyone. And that doesn't, I mean like I'm not an expert or anythin', but none've the other princesses I've met since've been like that. Like, at all? Even the sad ones! So iono, like, maybe look at this as an opportunity? You could take up sun farmin', that's actually suuuuuuper relaxin'! I feel like you need a... month. Or two. Of that.

"Or, oh! Oh! How about a dance studio! You'd be an amazin' teacher! You must be, your knights were the best! Man I can just picture it, eeeeeee! Fulla mirrors and shiny wood floors and mats, and all the students in their tights and jazz shoes, Instructor Yin! Instructor Yin! Teach us how to dance and sing! You could. Yeah, yeah! You're picturin' it, I know! Oh, goshies, that'd be perfect for you! And you know, if you wanted a... if you... wait a second."

Yue's eyes turn bigger than dinner plates. She gasps a gasp worthy of the end of life on earth. Her smiles turn to frets and shakes and panic in the blink of an eye. And that's when she starts hitting herself in the head.

"Oh no. Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no! If you're here, and you're here, and you're here, and I'm here, then... oh, no! Oh, stupid stupid stupid Yue! Dummy dummy dummy! They're gonna! Oh, and I wasted all that! There's no time now! Hurry hurry hurry, Hyra Hyra, psst psst psst! Quick, have you got more ropes? We need ropes, like, yesterday! And gags! Yeah, like hers! But, y'know, for, oh, there's no time! Hurry up, ropes and gags, they're gonna be here before we're ready! We have to go go go go go!"

She hops about and rushes around, winding rope with surprising alacrity and skill in all the right and best places around Princess Qiu, tying them together with comfortable, practiced knots. Come on silly, don't struggle! This is important! You'll see in just a... oh, I get it never mind! Yeah, yeah, like that! Struggle just like that, thank you so muchies!

"Ok quick, now me! Now me! Come on Hyra, hurry! You've got the shard sword and the look (oh goshies) and the... the, y'know the damsels so just. Oh, shoots and leaves, you need an army! Uh, um, uh... where'm I gonna... uh... ok Kat you're up, rise and shine sweetie it's time to take the spotlight! Come on get out of the bag already you sillyhea-- hey that's my banana bread! Ok well now you're working double just to... get out here, you're an army now! Yeah? Well. Shoulda thought've that before you ate all my bread, shouldn't you? Right, ok? Ok. Call in your favors if you got 'em. You can hold that sword like... ok! Ok! Yesh! J'sst lhhk that! Thnku, Hyrrha! Wubbu!!"

W-well. Um. Ok then. Right. So, uh. Um. Hoo boy this is so far above my... no wait, what am I talking about? Yue needs me! She needs me! By goshies, she is gonna get the best darn army in the world or my name's not Katherine Isabella Fluffybiscuits, esquire! So what if there's no time? So what if there's no plan? I'm me!

All right, Double Super Princess Chen. This is your home, ain't it? You came here to fight and duel and chormp to protect it, didn't you? Well guess what? Guess what guess what guess what? After all that work you did there's still a conquerin' army at the gates and a princess as fierce as a wolf with a sword flashin' full of fresh power ready to kick down the gates and snatch everythin' if you don't stop us!

Oh, uh, when you're ready of course. We'll be waiting here for you. But hurry up. I mean, um, if you dare! Mwa, mwaha, mwahahaha, AHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!

...eep! Was that lightning?! Oh Yue please, let me back in the bag, let me in the... ahem! I mean! Mwahaha! And stuff.
Don't speak. Don't speak. Don't speak. Kaeri roll their eyes and ask for condescending favors. Imperials wave their hands as if to pat her head and name a person they want dead or humiliated, and then assume the work is done from there. Menials and slaves throw themselves at her feet and twist themselves into knots to pleasure her. But the Master is the Master. She alone makes demands. She built the cage of pampering and sweets that holds Beljani prisoner, and when she opens it to demand tricks, she doesn't worry that her pet will run off or refuse. She does not fear her children's teeth. After all, the only thing worse than living in her cage is leaving it.

Don't speak. Don't speak. Don't complain. Don't whine. Her armor feels flimsy as she stares across the sands at the horrifying and huge army lined up against her-- against the Master. Against her. She plucks at the black fabric stretched over plates of quadranix alloy laid across her stomach. One of those spears is going straight through this flimsy piece of crap, she just knows it. Don't say it, don't speak. It pinches and chafes too, especially around the bust and butt. She's going to need an expert and very intimate massage at the end of all of this, and that if she's lucky enough to live. She wishes she had a helmet. It's silly, but she'd feel safer with something covering her face. No good; she can't spread herself if she's sealed inside some battle suit like Odysseus of old. And then they'd make her be a warrior instead, and that was three, no, four times worse than being exposed. But still, she wants it. Don't speak.

She wishes it could be more fashionable, too. More comfortable to boot. To say nothing about the pinching, who the frig does a suit like this in full black on a sun-blasted ball of desert? It's hot and miserable and it's functional before it's pretty, which is the worst crime of all. Heavy thug boots and thick pants with plated knees do nothing for her hips. The belts and vest were baggy and obscuring and bulky, it felt like she was wearing an extra person. The billowing cloak was a nice touch, if nothing else, but she couldn't help worrying it made her look too much like a commander and she wasn't looking forward to being focus fired, not one bit. She didn't care that the sweat made it easier to spread her virus, she'd had a taste of descending into war zones wearing slinky, beautiful dresses and she wanted more of it. But don't speak, Beljani. You'll die if you do. Or even worse, you won't.

Her eyes fall on Bella for the umpteenth time today. Her fingers dance nervously across Scribe's spine. Even through these thick gloves, the stimming sensation is wonderful. Her little dragon chirps, and falls asleep. Little b-- jerk. Back to Bella. Her heart sinks. Don't speak.

"Look, they sent the Lanterns. Can you believe that?"

She wills herself to sound haughty and dismissive. Inside she feels smaller than the smallest of their lot. But, she's speaking, and if she's going to break her only rule the last thing she needs is for it to come out sounding soft.

"It's pathetic. Don't you think? Their whole army looks like a ratty old quilt already, and then they go and shove a bunch of maids and cooks at our front? Oh, no offense B-- T-Tredecima. But you're a bit... beyond that now, and they're barely fit to be bait. Almost seems cruel, don't you think?"

She laughs. It's better than letting anybody see how badly she's shivering, despite all this heat. Gods, what did she do to deserve this? What was the Master thinking?! She didn't have any business on a field like this! A thousand ways to kill a person, even a whole ship of people, and here she is using the least, the, she can't be serious! Beljani's left hand drops and digs into the fabric around her thighs. Her head turns toward her own side now, up to the Master with her terrible, invincible-seeming visage, and back down to the other side of her and whatever in Olympus' name was there in the shape of Molech. Molech. This time, she doesn't bother to hide her shudder. She's allowed to be repulsed by the giant, nobody can blame her for it. She slides a half step away from him, as the platform allows without sending her plummeting into a swarm of owls down below, and hides behind Bella.

"Sister..." she breathes, less almost than a whisper.

Not quiet enough. Scribe perks up eagerly and spreads its wings with a wave of practiced glyphs in a dazzling, beautiful apology and outpouring of all her deepest feelings. Beljani hisses and stuffs the dragon behind her back before it can get to the "I told you so"s and, vastly worse, the bit where she thought "you deserve better than this" would be a good thing to say to anyone, at all, ever. But especially to Bella.

Her jaw clenches. Her back straightens. Her puts her free hand on the invincible, armored shoulder of the sister she'd never wanted to know. The one that was ruining her life just by standing there. Bella sighs in response, her helmet converting the gesture into a hiss of blistering steam. Beljani's hand jerks away before it can burn, sliding roughly down the armor's ridged and spiny back. Her fingers brush by ceremonial seals and prayer slips, clenching not quite tight enough to ruin the delicate lines of power that make a Diodekoi invincible.

She's thought about this a lot, Master. It's your fault for not giving her any other choices. She clears her throat and starts again, louder this time. As she speaks, she gathers up the wild tangles of Bella's hair spilling out of her helmet and starts tying them into the kind of clumsy braid that happens when a person who's watched a lot of hairstyling happen to and around her but never lifted a finger to try it herself goes and does it anyway. It's ugly and amateur, but she wills herself not to blush and works until it's finished anyway.

"Sister. I wanted... I tried my best to save you on Salib. It. We had a plan. I stuck to it, when nobody else would. It should have worked. But instead, you're the reason I'm here now. And I'm the reason you're awake at last. Precious sister, child of Artemis, I swear by our Mother of the Hunt that I will not fail you today.

"May my tongue be plucked from my mouth if I do not speak truths to you. May my eyes be gouged from my head if I do not guide you well. This battle will run its course, Zeus will declare what victors she sees fit, but I swear by Moon and by Empire and by my own beating heart, I will see you through to the other side. I will take you to the... I'll bring you to the place that you were always meant to be. The place you yearned for, all this time. Even if you didn't know it. I promise, sister."

Her heart jackhammers against her ribcage, as Scribe clamors up her arm and perches on her shoulder, flashing all kinds of writing with every beat of its glimmering, lasery wings. If you're watching, Artemis, if you care at all you'll send poor Beljani enough sweeties that she'll sink into bliss on the spot just for the raw will and nerve she shows you now in not turning her head back to glance nervously up at the Master. Which of course would have ruined everything.

Not for the last time, she steels herself for what's coming. Not for the last time, she wishes she was braver. Or anywhere else in the entire universe. But she's been thinking about this a lot, lately. There's been nothing else to think about, you see. Beautiful had a plan. She'd bet on Bella. And all Beljani had to do was see that bet through to the end.

Win or lose, it's the only way she'd ever feel happy again.
"Oh yeah? What, did you idiots just not shoot it with big enough lasers this whole time? You probably wasted half that time trying to debate it or something," Beljani rolls her eyes and huffs, "Thanks for the history lesson, Captain Sparky. Obviously it listened to me. It knows who Mommy is. Don't you, cutie?"

The dragon feels warm, curled up in her palm. It's tiny head feels nice on her finger where she rubs it, like brushing glass full of frosted etchings, and the tiny little horns are such a lovely stim that she might actually enjoy it more than the laser dragon does. It makes a sound that's half like a purr before it curls up into a ball and hides behind its glimmering wings, and even that's it's own kinds of mesmerizing. Beljani smiles with the quiet bliss of a first time pet owner. And then her eyebrow twitches, and her jaw clenches, and her spine locks unpleasantly stiff.

Ugh. Gods above, why did she say it like that? Knows who... damn it all, what is she gonna do with a pet? She didn't do anything! She didn't do anything! She just said stuff, just like always, and the stupid thing obeyed! Just like always! It didn't mean anything when it happened, even speaking these stupid ultimatums out loud was a dumb habit. Her virus did everything. This isn't. Doesn't. What is the matter with her? Just because it's from really far away, why should she feel bad about using it until it stops feeling good and then throwing it away? It's not like she's going to be the one putting any work into caring for the stupid thing.

But that thought opens the stupid hole in the pit of her stomach. So that's why, is it?

"Fine then, whatever. If that's how it's gonna be, I'm gonna name you 'Bella'. But you're not allowed to tell anybody, got it? In company it's 'hey dummy' or 'you little twerp', understand?"

Little Bella yawns through a crackle of energy that makes her entire arm uncomfortably warm. Beljani glares at the stupid lizard, but there's no point. It tilts its head curiously and nips at her nose, before it steps backward onto her fingers and spreads its wings to write more nonsense on itself.

Beljani stops and stares in disbelief. The ramifications of life from the other side of the Rift are lost on her. The idea that something could have made it through that yawning nightmare in the sky is so baffling and incomprehensible that she's not sure she even believes it's true. This is probably just some dumb thing a hermetic cooked up in a lab and forgot about when they lost their notes or something stupid like that. Or it's a, a... thing that fell off a spaceship a while back after someone tried to cross the Rift and burned to dust. It's not some new thing, Sparky has no idea what he's talking about, shut up. She's busy. She's busy, ok? There's only one thing that's important right now, and that's what made her go for a walk in the first place.

"No. No. Never mind. Never mind what I said just now. As far as the Empire's concerned your name is Scribe. Scribe, do you understand me? Come on, we're gonna go figure out what you eat. And then I'm gonna work on you until you sparkle. You're gonna shine, little star! My precious darling! My perfect, final apology letter, yes you are, yes you are!"

She spins around as fast as she'd like to imagine she could if she were born a Diodekoi instead of... herself. Her feet are lighter than the air around her. She tears through the room like a blade on the wind, knocking over the Magos and his half-attached legs on her way. What was he thinking, do it it there? She skids to a halt in the hallway, and pokes her head back into the workshop.

"...Get a move on already Sparky! We're doing science over here, and I need someone to tell me how it works! I've wasted so much time already, hurry up or I'm snapping all your limbs for good!"
Yue's been in all kinds of storms before, almost always on purpose. I mean, sometimes you're out on errands and it just starts to rain, but like, usually it's a choice you make to keep going and not just knock on someone's door or cozy up in a little cave or under a tree or whatever happens to be handy, y'know? The rain falls and the wind stings and you're just like... well, that medicine still needs gathering! Well, those tea leaves'll be ruined after this anyway! Well, I promised Ms. Water Deer I'd watch her children today! Well, I just plain don't feel like not dancing in the grove tonight! And so on, see? That's who Yue is.

One time she forgot what season she was in and she shrugged off the darkening clouds only to catch the fury of a summer storm, full of hail the size of a fox's paw. And Yue, she had nowhere to go but forward, so that's what she did. She dipped and ducked and dodged as best she could. She fought the sky with her umbrella and her silly wooden sword together, twin-blade style! Sometimes she was enough to avoid the falling ice, and other times it thwacked her so hard on the head or her back or her legs or her arms that she thought she was gonna die! There was no end to it, just Mama Sky unleashing blows so fast and furious she was helpless, like I said, to do anythin' but walk through 'em.

And so she did. And when she finally stumbled home she needed a blanket. And a very soft chair. And a bucket of hot water to rest her feet in. And a whole hot bath to soak the rest of herself in after that. And soft towels to wrap herself in after. And an empty house with only little fox friends to not judge her when she didn't put on clothes the rest of the night. And a whole bowl of warm onion broth to slowly, loudly slurp. It was a rough time, ok? She needed a lot to feel better after. But because she did it, she made it to the top of a new hill that day, and she'd never felt more accomplished about anything in her life. So nobody could tell her it wasn't worth the trouble.

Yue's never been in a proper duel before, it turns out. All her ones before were practice. Or they were play. Or very special dances with people whose stories she already understood, once or twice even before they did. But she's never dueled before, never fully figured out her very first lesson from her very first fighting instructor. She's never felt the rush of the dance of dares and daggers, where footwork is almost more important than swordplay, where grim smiles turn into flirty ones at the drop of a stone or vice versa, where the space of a wink is enough to get your head cut off because you're walking chest to chest in slow circles with your sword pressed against your opponent's neck, and hers on yours.

It's scary. It's so scary that she can't keep swallowing, gulping and gasping. It's so scary she drops into two completely unrelated flop sweats. It really ruins her attempts to be a flashy and charming dancer for this girl who was, in spite of everything and everyone she's known, the first to ask her if she wanted a challenge. The first to push her, to try and swallow her whole, to fight her for really really realsies and not because they wanted to teach her something. She's never done a dance of death like this and been forced to be so aware, so very incredibly aware of how sharp a sword really is. What it's really like to hold a blade to somebody else and just how much she's asking of herself and her partner every time she picks it up.

But it's also exciting. It's so exciting that her heart flutters like a dancing flame on a candle wick, and with her chest squeezed so tight against Qiu's there's no way she doesn't feel it too. And that's exciting, too. The warmth inside of her is hot and sticky. It's in her chest, it's running up and down her arms, it's welling in her stomach. It's between her legs. And so she dances, to make the flame burn brighter. To feel hotter and hotter and hotter until it's not sweat she has to worry about dripping everywhere. To share the feeling. To rise to the challenge. To be a figure from "the stories" and dance like she was born for it. To not let down her teachers or falter in front of this girl who was a hurricane, but instead take her warmth and share it.

Their feet cross in such a way that, for a fleeting instant, Yue's got control of the tempo. In this one second, she could do anything. A flick of her sword could disarm Qiu, or she could twist her hip and bring her to the ground. She could flourish her sleeve and blind Qiu for a decisive strike neither of them had a name for yet. Infinite possibility, inside this one little step.

She takes her chance. She leans forward and kisses this other girl full on the lips. Her face opens in a wide and very flustered grin, while her neck dribbles blood along the blade she'd pressed it into. And together they walk through a door, backwards in time.

(Don't worry, Hyra. Wolves mate for life. But your girlfriend is experiencing, like, twelve awakenings right now and how many times is she going to get the chance to kiss a Princess? I promise you, she will not begrudge you any of these same opportunities for as long as you live <3)

I think it's fair to say that Yue's danced before. With many, or against many, or however you want to say it. And I don't just mean on her way here, with the knights and the demons and the piles of assault ribbons! Though that was a lot of fun, too! But real warfare, erm... dancing is when you're dealing with a warren full of extremely antsy rabbits (EARs). There's so many! Hippity hop! Ity! And they're fast, wowzers they are fast and just, goshies, you'd think they wouldn't be very threatening but those teeth are actually terrifying and ouchie?

So just imagine, not a city but an entire society of bunbuns, all of them mad as all get out and flustered because they think you're there to hurt them and even speaking their language doesn't help any because they are just Extremely Anxious and Also Not Listening Rabbits (EAANLRs) and also you are much bigger than they are, which makes you untrustworthy by default. So you run and you zip and you dodge, you dance with the poor little buns and you don't even let your adorable forest fox best friend come out and... ok look I see the conflict of interest here, I'm just saying an extra pair of pawsies would, oh come on! It's boring in the bag! What do you think made me take up hobbyist narration in the first place?

Anyway. Qiu becomes armies, cities. She expresses them with a sweep of her blade. Yue responds by becoming the woods and the plains, and the gorgeous stretch of land by the river, and she dances through them as a single person might when she knows them all like the back of her hand, and suddenly there's nothing more to fear. It's not the feeling of being many, that's not a move that's in her fight vocabulary, but it is the feeling of infinity. When she's her own Terraced Lake, you see, it doesn't matter how many angles the dance takes place from, because the water has a place for them all. S'kinda funny this is how she approaches it, but you asked who Yue is, didn't you? Well here she is. She's a sillyhead who can do anything so long as she doesn't stop to think about how impossible it might be. And she reaches the end of another dance, and winds further back in time.

She's never been the villain in someone's story, unless you count Tianic. And Yue does not count Tianic as the kind of person who needs or wants to go about creating villains out of heroes. So she's never done it before. She's never been asked to rise this high, to storm this hard, to hold so much power in her body. It's new to her. It's a tingly sort of thrilling, actually. But only because it's temporary. If she had to hold this sort of energy and the expectation that she could bring ruin and calamity and disaster, or that she might be expected to stroll into a diner at odd hours and steal the smiles from everybody's hearts just for funsies, well if that was her life she'd just sort of dissolve into an ugly puddle, wouldn't she? But like this, right now, with someone safe to throw herself against? It's amazing.

Yue's dress glitters with all the seeming of the sun. Her sword sparkles against its terrible radiance as her hair pulls loose and flutters majestically behind her. Her back is straight, and she stands a hundred feet tall. Her delighted, dorky grin expresses itself as a deliciously evil smirk that calls lightning from the sky. She plants her sword in the ground and it lifts underneath her to form a shrine dedicated to love with water pouring from a thousand pipes in endless waterfalls and pools.

Do you think you can bring her death, silly Princess? Show her! Only the worthiest technique from the most pure hearted maiden can carry a blade all the way to her heart! Where Yue strikes, storms follow. She etches her entire soul into the land around her because it's fun. She leaps, and where her body passes it creates a whirlwind. She falls, and her body is a meteor that could purge the land clean, if it wanted to.

She does this all with the zeal of a girl who's never had power she could even think about abusing before. She spends money as somebody who's barely had enough to get by her whole life suddenly waking up to discover she's inherited a fortune and is afraid that if she doesn't blow it all at once she'll wake up again the next day to find it's all gone back to how it was. She falls farther and faster than any of her friends could probably think her capable of.

But it's a trust fall, y'know? She does it because there's someone there to catch her. There's a god-slaying sword she'll get to see, that'll fix everything and make all of indulgences turn harmless, but only if she storms hard enough, cackles darkly instead of giggling, and duels with the full fury of the proper Demon Swordswoman. The duel is about the duel, Princess Qiu. We move like this. Then like this. Now like this. Finishing like this. Again! Strike harder! The fight isn't won till you've knocked her from the skies and lifted her blushing head up with your blade!

She falls. She crashes through the final barrier. And on the other side she, she, she!

Oh ouchies. Ooooof. Mommy can she sleep in today? Sis said it's kay if she's got a good excuse, and her whole body feels like bruises now. Yue stumbles toward Qiu with, well, not so much determination as a lack of idea of what else to do. Her training has all been beaten out of her arms, her legs, her brain. She's got no stance except the ones she dreamed she might have when she was a little girl, reading the same four books in an endless loop instead of going to bed like a sillyhead.

She doesn't hold a sword anymore, but a stick. She's not ready for the real thing yet, and she couldn't afford one anyway. Swords are things for fancy city folk with access to good iron and lots of hot and skilled artists to beat all that metal into a pretty thing just for flyin' and dancin' and stealin' pretty girls' hearts with. But when you don't know what you're doin', a stick's as good as Excalibur. Anything she can pick up and swing could be a legendary blade in her arms.

Her lungs are burning. Her body is so drenched in sweat that four baths wouldn't be enough to clean her. Her gorgeous, perfect battle dress has been torn and cut up bad enough that she's gonna have to find a sewing wizard to put it back together again because it is so utterly, stupidly beyond her or even her sunshine to fix it by herself. And it's weird, right? Because it should make her want to cry, but all she does it fight. She ignores her aches, she ignores the blood and the way her cuts sting where they're covered with dirt and mud, and the twigs caught in her hair, and the sand in her... everything, ack, goshies, it's even in her mouth, ptui ptui pfeh! No wait, she's ignorin' it, ignorin' it I said! She just fights, because there's someone here in front of her who loves it more than anything, someone who's shown her so many stories in so short a time that it'd be rude to give up until she's good and ready.

Besides, it's not like there's anything left of Qiu the Threeshard Princess, either. This is not a legendary battleground for suave and sophisticated duelists. This is not a fight that anybody will sing of, where skills and powers they'll need new words to describe clash against each other like raindrops on a windowpane. This is not a place where experience and talent even exists to trump a useless novice like our precious, pretty Yue. This is just a couple of girls, all the way back at the beginning of the journey, waving tiredly at one another 'cause it's fun to do so.

The Wandering Tales of Yue the Sun Farmer, the final, strongest secret sword: Yes, I Love you! The Sword of Validation! Yue does not dance or duel because she has a story she wants to tell. Not one she wants to impose on anyone she meets, from the greatest fighter on the planet to someone who's picking up a weapon for the very first time in their life. It's a harder path she's born to walk, one cultivated from a lifetime of running with animals and caring for plants, and only ever taking what she needs. Do you know how Yue wins duels? The only way she can win and still stay herself? Well I'll tell you. She has to finish when her opponent's heart is fuller than she found it. She wins when they smile, she loses when they frown.

But that's not why her knees give out on her. That's not why she tumbles into a heap in front of Qiu. That happens for a much simpler reason: she's just not as good. Not as strong or fast or in as good of shape. She hit her limit before the Threeshard Princess. It is her face being lifted up, in the end. And she's got nothing left in the tank. Nothing she's got it in her tired, battered body left that she can to respond. Nothing except to sniffle, and then to cry. She punches the dirt.

"Darn it," she says, "Darn it! I almost had you! I swear I almost had you! I wanted... I wanted to win!"

She sniffles, loud and nasally and super duper undignified. And the true, final power of her Secret Sword is unleashed at last. She lifts a shaky hand to wipe her tears away as her face lights up in the sunniest smile she's got inside her. She laughs. She laughs so hard she snorts.

"Next time," she giggles this time, "Next time I'm gonna kick your butt. Or the next next time. Or the next next next next time. But I'mma get you! And when I do, you'll... owe me... a..."

Yue. Plain old silly Yue, flops forward just as tired as it's possible for a girl to be. She falls straight into Qiu's arms, and closes her eyes. See, sillyhead? She took your worst. And your best. She's still here. When you, when you get right down to it, a dragon's not any scarier than a tiger. You... dummy...

Tell me. Come on, tell me. Who really won today?
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