Adila!

There's some unofficial rules to the race, you know. Bringing someone down over the desert? Not just allowed, it's encouraged. Bringing someone down over the gulch? Well, as long as you're willing to pay for their medical bills in a pinch. That's why everyone's eyeing you suspiciously, or oiling their harpoon cannons meaningfully, or squeaking nervously when you strut by all fire and power and gleaming scales. Nobody knows how to take down a dragon. You're an unknown quantity, the Watch's pet dragon all grown up, a real princess of the Bazaar, and if you fail today you're going to become the laughingstock of the entire Bazaar and never be taken seriously ever again.

(Spoiler: you did not fail today. You came in first place. You swooped down and dug your claws into the sand at the finish line and breathed fire joyfully! You cut through the air like it was the empty void beyond Ouroboros!)

The real competition... that's got to be Flash Morgan, hired this year by the textiles guild. Her strawberry blonde hair is streaked with her teal racing stripes, and her custom flight suit is covered with trophies of past races. She's a returning champion, coming straight from her victory in the trans-Askaian triathalon to honor her contract and defend her pride.

She was tough as hell to beat, wasn't she? Neck and neck, right to the finish, both of you doing loops and ducking out of the way of each other's attacks. And when you managed to push that last burst of speed out of your heart, swooping down low into the merciless heat of the gulch to edge Flash out...

How'd that feel, champ? And how'd she take it, anyhow?

***

Alina!

When you walk into the kitchen, Rita's there, too. Her little feet are swinging back and forth under her chair, and she's humming a cheerful Askaian folk song as she shovels your mother's pancakes into her insatiable mouth. Outside, it's a perfect Solstice snow day: big, fluffy flakes swirling down out of a pastel grey sky, collecting in drifts perfect for belly flopping into. It's just cold enough that when you run outside with Rita after breakfast, Mommy will insist on wrapping you up in your big girl jacket and scarf, but the warm air off the bay will keep you from getting too cold too fast. That's part of what makes it perfect.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Momma says with a smile. She's still wearing the royal pajamas, her hair loose around her ears, as she flips a pancake just right. Nobody makes pancakes like Momma; she gets them just right, full and fluffy and buttery, light in the mouth and heavy in the stomach. "Do you want banana slices or chocolate chips in yours?"

Rita waves, crumbs spilling out of her mouth as she smiles at you. There's a fire roaring in the kitchen hearth, and your sisters haven't woken up yet, and right now it's just the three of you on the perfect Solstice morning.

***

Kazelia!

Azora releases her shadows, finally, and the elf slumps lifeless to the ground, joining your loyal soldiers in lying limply there, like a bunch of toys scattered carelessly across a playroom floor. The only shadows that don't melt away and rejoin hers are the ones writhing furious and tight around your limbs as you hang upside down, pinned to the wall.

"I'm terribly disappointed," she says, calmly, as if she hadn't just murdered the sage and brute-force erased the minds of your troops. There's no way of telling how much of them will be left when they wake up. It's one of her most terrible punishments. "That artifact wasn't meant to be touched. It's for Father's use alone." Of course it is. But as long as she brought it to him first, she'd be the only one he'd let use it. Because she's the special one. She's the favorite.

"The secrets in here aren't for the likes of soldiers, icecube." She raises one hand, her magic swirling around her, and considers you for a long moment. As much as you strain and struggle, you can't get away. You're not strong enough. She could crush your mind and erase... months? Years? Wipe your mind clean of so much, even the loss of your stars and the experience of standing before the hungry void and being torn apart.

Then she smiles. "Swear, icecube. Swear that you will never tell anyone about what you saw, and I will let you take on a debt to me, instead."

And you said yes, didn't you? You remember. You sobbed and promised and begged her not to wash your memories away. And she patted you on the cheek and said that you would owe her so, so much for her mercy, and then she covered your head with shadows and left you sightless and soundless and speechless to wait for her return, while she single-handedly offered your father the prize he wanted.

That was always her way, after all. Even if she had the Caduceus of the Devils in front of her, she'd take it and offer it loyally to Father, because Father always rewarded her loyalty and spoiled her with praise and special status. It's a terrible feedback loop that created a monster who would never, ever turn, not unless Father turned on her first.

But if Father let her wield that terrible power in his name... she'd enjoy using it to torment everyone in Hyperborea.

You can't let that happen. Not this time.

Adila!

There's some unofficial rules to the race, you know. Bringing someone down over the desert? Not just allowed, it's encouraged. Bringing someone down over the gulch? Well, as long as you're willing to pay for their medical bills in a pinch. That's why everyone's eyeing you suspiciously, or oiling their harpoon cannons meaningfully, or squeaking nervously when you strut by all fire and power and gleaming scales. Nobody knows how to take down a dragon. You're an unknown quantity, the Watch's pet dragon all grown up, a real princess of the Bazaar, and if you fail today you're going to become the laughingstock of the entire Bazaar and never be taken seriously ever again.

(Spoiler: you did not fail today. You came in first place. You swooped down and dug your claws into the sand at the finish line and breathed fire joyfully! You cut through the air like it was the empty void beyond Ouroboros!)

The real competition... that's got to be Flash Morgan, hired this year by the textiles guild. Her strawberry blonde hair is streaked with her teal racing stripes, and her custom flight suit is covered with trophies of past races. She's a returning champion, coming straight from her victory in the trans-Askaian triathalon to honor her contract and defend her pride.

She was tough as hell to beat, wasn't she? Neck and neck, right to the finish, both of you doing loops and ducking out of the way of each other's attacks. And when you managed to push that last burst of speed out of your heart, swooping down low into the merciless heat of the gulch to edge Flash out...

How'd that feel, champ? And how'd she take it, anyhow?

It would have been so easy to be mean.

A lot of the racers were. They came carrying bolas and tanglewool and baskets of rare flying rope snakes and harpoons with chains and a general attitude of it being preferable to destroy your enemy than to win the race. The entire sport felt like it was teetering on the brink of doing away with the race part altogether sometimes and just acknowledging a future in dogfighting alone. And wouldn't it be just natural for the dragon to perfect that style? The final evolution, a story told in a dozen burning, falling gliders and a triumphant monarch of the clouds?

But Princess Adila was here to race.

When she'd been younger she'd had the aerial attitude of a pigeon - wings were for short, flappy, high intensity hops between floor and rooftop. Flight in the open, in the Blue - outside the practical confines of the city - it was frightening! Nobody in the Bazaar knew how dragons were supposed to fly, or what the rules were, or how to be good at it. She didn't know what was dangerous and what wasn't so she kept her nose to the sand...

And practiced.

The harbour was her haunt. She'd scorch so low over the water that her wingtips almost brushed against it. She'd circle and bank around the ships as they came in thick and crowded, daring herself closer and closer. Sometimes she folded her wings and point her nose and let her speed carry her under the water like a knife and her magical eyes lit up the treasures of the sea floor like they were hers. She had thought for a while that was what flying was, and that it was fun.

She'd been wrong.

Flying in symphony with someone else was everything.

She hadn't brought any weapons. She was doing something even more daring. From the moment she spread her wings and leapt from the starting cliff she stuck as close to Flash Morgan as she could, almost on top of her glider. She'd seen Flash's eyes - was this the play, to tear down the strongest competitor as quickly as possible? But then Princess Adila caught a harpoon out of the air and immolated a hurled shot of tanglewool with her breath. Flying upside down, body in between Flash and the other competitors, she'd grinned and memorized Flash's face when she'd realized what she was doing.

She wasn't here to destroy the competition. She was here to protect her greatest threat.

Again and again Adila swooped and dived to intercept projectiles aimed at Flash's glider.

Again and again she brazenly exposed her back to Flash, completely vulnerable.

And Flash... didn't take the shot. Again and again. Adila was practically daring her to. She swooped and wove, in and out, angling at rocks and steam pits and making it extraordinarily clear that even a nudge from Flash Morgan's glider would take her out of the race.

Flash rose to the bait. She started flying closer in response. They entered a suicide spiral of flight, spinning around each other, more and more daring, more and more trusting.

And then it went a step further.

Flash made a move that was actively impossible, flying directly at a rock formation. If Adila had held to the same almost-but-not-quite touching descent then they would both crash. The ultimate test of trust.

Adila took physical hold of Flash's glider and applied her weight against it. They scorched around the corner faster than any glider before or since. Adila had seen the truth - the move was only suicide if they weren't perfectly in sync. It had been the trust of an acrobat, leaping into the void and leaving it to your partner to decide if you would fly or fall.

They burned ahead of the other gliders, ahead of everyone and everything else, wrapped in a fluid, twisting, synthesis of trust and instinct and adrenaline and physicality. Unrehearsed displays of acrobatics and impossible acts of trust given to a complete stranger. Princess Adila rode Flash Morgan's speed and skill and Flash Morgan rode Adila's strength and power and they tumbled through the blue...

Right up until that final moment when there was nothing but blood and instinct and they broke apart again, blazing like two meteors furiously towards the finish line. Not a betrayal, but a synchronized madness, a passion that came from being driven beyond the point of sanity, where when the end of perfection comes into sight then there's nothing left but to greedily grab any remaining fragment of it like a girl drowning in the salt'd ocean grabbing for a flask of fresh water.

They spent two weeks together afterwards. During this time they didn't say five words to each other. There was a strange, fearsome magic in the air between them as the energy of that shared flight, shared fall, shared burning impact played itself out. Then, just as wordlessly, they blazed apart like the heart-pounding breathless and boiled escape from a sauna. It was less a relationship and more of a convergence of celestial mechanics, and to use words to describe why it happened or why it ended is to condense the might of Jupiter to an equation - insufficient even if accurate.

What could be more intimate than flight? The strangest thing about the Riders to Princess Adila had never been the cold, or the void, or the wickedness. It had been their attitude to flight, to fight in formations with lances atop their pegasi. They were almost as indifferent to the air as the groundborn were and Adila couldn't understand it. Princess Spite had even climbed atop her back as though she was simply a larger version of her sky horse and hardly seemed to have realized what she was implying through doing that.

But perhaps she'd gone too far as well. Looking back on this time, this moment, re-living the all-consuming thrill... Adila realized that she'd grown guarded. She'd come to regard her wings as so powerful and dangerous that they'd almost become too sacred to be used at all - and when she'd given in and touched on that energy again with Princess Iron Star she'd shied away from the results because the moment wasn't exactly like it had been built up to in her head.

There was an energy here she was missing. At once more limited and less. Capable of less, able to do more. She felt like she wanted to bookmark this moment in her life and come back to it again, to recover what felt like such an important part of her life and values.

And again, an idea blossomed in her head - but it wasn't quite ready yet.

The first time this had all happened, Kazelia had been so afraid. She had been helpless. Really helpless. With someone who cared nothing for her well-being and kept her alive and intact primarily because it would make Azora's dealings with Father slightly more convenient. That was terrifying. It was part of why she'd been so ready to use all her power when Ninian had tried to capture her. It wasn't until her dealings with Kyouko and a very different sort of Hyperborean attitude towards kidnappings that Kazelia would even contemplate the idea that some people found this sort of thing fun. (Recalling recent conversations, a tiny part of Kazelia's mind took this moment to wonder whether Alina would enjoy being upside down in shadow shackles.)

For a long, long time, there had been a true difference in the nature of their power between Azora and the other sisters. Morgina's elevation was a Hyperborea innovation, and Eska's seemed to be of her own making and even more recent. Most of their existence, Azora had been the special sister both in power and in treatment. They were linked, Kazelia thought. A tracing back to that most ancient time when they had all left together and Azora alone had been proud to be with their father as the others marched begrudgingly into the snow and the cold. Was it that moment that Oberon had given something special to Azora? Some greater glimpse of his own power and essence? Or was that merely the moment he had favored her, offering greater training and knowledge over time until she had gained a nature beyond that of her sisters?

The differences started subtly, at any rate. Azora had always been prone to casual demands and the younger siblings at hopping up in response. But when that they had come to that second world with its sun-dappled glades and large trees the size of church towers, Azora had shown a new sort of power. Once, Kazelia had been dancing between missions, for parts of her heart still sang to her that long ago, and she had ignored something Azora had shouted to her. Then, all at once, she had been off her feet, as she was now, and Azora had been holding Kazelia without any need to touch her, some well of dark magic offering her strength greater even than Kaja. She walked differently after that, then she began to float. She saw things differently, like she was looking at the world overlaid on a grid with extra information that nobody else could reach. She thought grander plans and experimented with bigger creations. She started training her own witches, Kazelia among them. And of all these things Oberon approved and nodded, for he saw in his daughter a growth that would aid him and that was absolutely loyal to him. He could thus allow it to flourish because it was, first and foremost, his.

Let us go back to this moment though. Somewhere over the course of Hyperborea, Kazelia had become on a level with beings like Oberon and with Mother. Not entirely their equal, but playing on the same field so to speak. She was not just Kazelia anymore. She was the light of Argossa. She was the ancient song. She was Mother's gracious host. She was an open heart filled with the firmament and the void balanced around the essence that was herself. She was even, beyond all those other things, a princess who had learned from one of her friends that sometimes being captured was just about the best place you could be.

So this time, instead of begging, she looked at Azora from her upside-down little hanging place with calm eyes that weren't Rider eyes. And she said "would you like to sing with me, sister, while we wait? I don't think we're alone here." And as she has done oft of late, she hums a wordless but merry little tune to pass the time. This one has distant sounds of gallops through the forest and old dances in sun-washed meadows. For a moment, at least until their lovely host arrives, Azora and Kazelia's hearts will be connected. What's that like for Azora, who sees the depths of Mother, the stone and birch of Argossa, and the light that animates Hyperborea all mixed up in there?

"Chocolate chips!!" Alina squeaks in her little songbird voice, by which of course she means good morning and I love you. You have to read between the lines with Lina in the morning.

She yawns a dainty princess yawn and is super duper extra special careful to only use the most graceful motions in her arsenal to rub the last bits of sleep from her bright, shining eyes. She's gotta be pretty so that nobody notices she might be getting sick, or else Momma wasn't gonna let her go sledding and shell hunting today. That would be bad! Luckily it's a soooooooo perfect day and her excitement is bubbling over so much that she can't keep the bounces out of her steps as she races across the kitchen like a perfect little ballerina to sit down next to Rita and immediately start a war of tiny kicks and giggles. And this, of course, means I'm glad you're here, you're my bestest friend in the whole wide world.

She'd been dreaming. Something... something... weird and boring and without a single shark in it, if you can believe that. That's why she thought she might be sick! It was all happy and sad and, and grown up and the longer she sits there watching the thick, fluffy flakes of snow, the less of it she can remember. But weirdly, the more it fades the better she feels. It's prolly just cause she's never up this early. That's a Rita thing, being up before the sun is. She looks at her adventure buddy and sticks her tongue out.

Most days she'd grumble a little, but today it's worth it. Today's Solstice! That's the whole point of even having winter! And since she did such a super great rainbow job of waking up so early, there'd be time for breakfast and running around till her nose froze off before it was time to get... er, give presents! Heh, she's such a genius. Alina leans her little elbows on the table and watches her Momma cook with a silly little smile on her face.

She watches a pancake flip through the air and wobble in all its fluffy glory as it lands back in the pan, and squeals with delight. She's so lucky. She is. She is! Momma makes the very bestest pancakes in the whole kingdom. No, the world! Even Ourania would be all, wow, these are so great, can I have the recipe! But it wouldn't matter, because she wouldn't be as good at making them as Momma!

...But today was different. And not cause it's Solstice. Well not just. Alina's been thinking and thinking and then thinking some more just to be safe, but she can't remember the last time Momma made breakfast like this. It's been, um... um... forever, she's pretty sure, since she's gotten to eat these ooey gooey yummy fluffballs. Maybe even two forevers.

Why... is she crying?

Silly girl! She stealthily wipes her eyes on her sleeve (she's got her Adventure Silks on already!) before anybody can see. Just in time too, cause now there's a big stack of pancakes just stuffed with chocolate sitting in front of her and Momma is beaming at her little Ripple and it's making her so happy she wants to start crying all over again!

"Hey Momma, guess what?" She says with her mouth still half full, "I found a new bend in the river last week! I'm gonna show Rita before the Gifting, ok? I bet we'll find diamond crabs! It'll be the best Solstice adventure ever!"

She beams brighter than the sun on a summer afternoon. Brighter than rainbows over aqueducts, or sparkly jewels on a wedding dress. The only thing Alina loves more than Mommy and Momma is having adventures. Then she stops, and sniffles a little. Another thought just snuck into her head, and it reminds her of that dream.

"Do you... wanna come too?"

Kazelia!

For Azora?

She can’t stand it. Can’t stand its implications. What’s offered. What’s been achieved.

She turns with a flick of her cloak and a disgusted sneer and everything starts to fall apart as she leaves, as she fades away, as she leaves you behind—

***

Alina!

“Of course I do,” Momma says, squeezing your hand, and for a moment, everything is right. The moment doesn’t last. The moment never does. But for a moment... for just a moment...

You have your family again.

***

Kazelia!

Your memories slip through your fingers like sand. You remember the sound of waves breaking on an endless shore. You remember a frustrated growl, the swirl of shadows. You remember seeing someone crowned in light and glory, and falling in love at first sight. It’s fuzzy, but it’s also deja vu, because Adila? She burns.

+Open your eyes!+ Her cloak flutters in the wind and the spray of the fountain. Someone said all those ragged holes were made by the void, which is nonsense, because how could nothing poke holes in something? It makes no logical sense! It makes you want to tug your adorable ponytails! +Absolute power, by its very nature, corrupts absolutely! Without limits placed on her authority, your High Queen must inevitably abuse it!+

It should be unthinkable. That’s what your mother thought! She sent you right out here to set this raggedy street preacher straight, which, come to think of it, it’s kind of weird how the infinite, hungry and lonely void managed to fit herself inside Castle Thessia, much less fuss about Adila and wring her skirts. Where’d she even get skirts that big?

Sweat drips off Adila’s forehead and there is a terrible twenty-wagon pileup in your train of thought.

+Who holds your princesses accountable? The queens, certainly. Who holds your queens accountable? Why, the High Queen. And who holds her to account? Who watches the watchman?+

That’s... actually not a bad point. Like, if she’s wrong, then the worst that happens is that the queens have more of an excuse to talk to Ourania and give input on what happens in Hyperborea, right? Maybe, like, a Royal Council or something. And if she’s right... wowie wow, what if she is right? That’d be the sneakiest place in the whole wide world for a villain to hide herself, right in plain sight!

(That’s what your dad did, right? And it almost worked, too. If he hadn’t overextended at the Crystal Gala...)

Someone throws a pomegranate and it spatters all over Adila’s dragon-sized shirt. You make the most indignant squeak. You’re not the only one. But that just makes Adila hold her head higher.

+You cannot even see your chains! You cannot even imagine them! You are not allowed to! Come, join the Watch, and together we can expose Ourania to the light! Our light! A thousand candles together can hold back the darkest night!+

You would hold a thousand candles if it meant you got to look at Adila. Listening to her gravely baritone explain shocking and scary plausible theories about Ourania a definite bonus. On impulse, you do a perfect cartwheel up onto the stage next to her, and everybody gasps! She tenses up, looking you up and down.

+...princess. Can I help you?+

“That’s my line, silly,” you say with a giggle, grabbing one of her slogan boards. “I want to know how I can help you! Viva la diva! We will overcome!”

+You want to help me?+ Adila tilts her head, narrowing those so exotic starry eyes. Then she grins, a little warily. You really should be paying more attention to that wariness instead of just being over the moon that she’s smiling at you.

+That’s right,+ she says, turning to the crowd. +Even your princess agrees with us! With our mission! Come join us, and together we will save Hyperborea!+

Yeah! Now you’re on steady ground. You are all about saving Hyperborea.

***

Adila!

“Adila!”

+Report,+ you think at your soldier, clambering down off your... pegasus? Yes. Your pegasus, Bellie. She’s so strong, carrying a dragon like that. Must be. Flash would be proud.

“The strike force hitting Castle Selenia has returned, General,” your soldier says, saluting with her hand over her chest. “We have Princess Mio in our custody, and have informed her mother that she is to cede control of the kingdom to our forces effective immediately.”

+Good work. Be sure to implement the security checks,+ you say briskly. The wonderful thing about holding recalcitrant princesses hostage is that, without fail, they’ll bring their friends into your custody soon enough. You have almost got your Hyperborean irregulars out of the habit of marching off to investigate suspicious noises alone, and the security checks should allow you to apprehend would-be rescuers before they even make it to the stockade. +Dismissed.+

“But Princess Alina...” You stiffen. This was one of her first missions in command. You felt she was finally ready. What happened? “She’s in the medical tent,” the soldier finishes, lamely. “She’s asking for you—“

You’re already moving. Stupid, stupid Adila! You are her general! It’s your responsibility to make sure your soldiers don’t lose their lives in the fight against Ouranian tyranny. Never give them tasks beyond their ability. Never give them too much dangerous information to leak to the enemy. Never put them in harm’s way without a backup plan.

Alina trusted you!

You burst into the medical tent like a thunderstorm. +I’m here,+ you think frantically. +Where is she?+

“Is that you, Addy?” Alina is lying on a cot, her lavender hair slick on her forehead, her cheeks pale. She’s holding her hands tight over her stomach, her impractically floofy uniform stained almost black around the gash. When she looks up at you, her eyes are unfocused. “I... I have to tell you...”

+Shhh, I’m here. Don’t speak. Save your breath.+ Guilt chews up your insides. You should have been there alongside her! You should have used your shield, the one Hanna made for you, huge and black and impenetrable; you should have been Alina’s shield.

“Addy...” You lean in close, wanting to remember this brave soldier— this brave follower— wishing there were some way you could save her—

She lets go of her stomach and there is an explosion. You fall back on your rear end in stunned horror as... confetti? Streamers? What??

“The strike force had no injuries and succeeded completely, General,” Alina says, sitting up with a silly giggle and saluting. “I did everything like you told me to!” She swings her legs off the cot, smiling broadly. “I was gonna make you wait a little more, but I just couldn’t stand waiting any longer! You looked soooo sad, and I can’t stand that, Addy!”

You are aghast. Flabbergasted. She... you thought she was seriously injured! Does she have any idea how irresponsible and distressing her little prank was??

“But if I really had been,” she adds, tilting her head, “what would you have said to me?” She bats her bright eyes, the ones that make it impossible to stay mad at her, and you sigh.

+I would have told you that I would have avenged you,+ you say, resolutely, getting back up on your feet. And you almost miss Alina’s expression turning glassy for a moment before she bounces off the cot and clasps your hand.

“Just wait till you see the victory dinner I made!” You sigh and let her drag you along. It’s impossible to stay mad at her, after all. Just like it’s impossible to find the courage and sit down and talk to her about what the two of you really mean to each other, because the thought of her little face falling, or even her withdrawing from the campaign completely...

You are fearless in everything else. You’re allowed to flinch just this once.

***

Alina!

+Just hand it over. I promise, everything is going to be just fine. We’ll fix everything.+

The crown is so heavy on your head. A hot wind whips at your skirts, sand scouring the sides of your Glass Knights flanking you, huge and glossy black, their antlers clawing up at the cloudy sky.

You’re tired, Alina. Tired of a stupid war. Tired of watching your friends trying to fight you to defend the status quo. Hadn’t you all agreed that revolution was important? But noooooo, once someone actually achieved the goal, it was all “nooooo, Alina, you’re going mad with power!”

Adila’s letter convinced you not to listen to the part of you that’s convinced she’s just jealous she didn’t get credit for winning. For now.

Caddy slowly twists under your hands. You can feel the pressure all the time, the buzz of having him in your head making your teeth want to vibrate. He’s so helpful. He’s learning. He wants nothing more than to understand you and make things the way you want them and it’s not your fault he didn’t understand at first, that the inside of your head wasn’t what he expected, and it’s not his fault either, and nobody’s listening no matter how many times you try to explain they won’t listen just stop and listen

“Alina?”

You jerk your head up. Adila was saying things. You nod, because you were listening! Totally!

+And once we unpetrify Ourania...+

She’s got a big lead-lined box. You’re not stupid. She’s going to lock Caddy away for being a bad snakes-stick. He stabs panic into your thinkpan at the thought, his want to be useful, and you shoosh him by rubbing his heads.

It’s terrible to contemplate, isn’t it? Because you’re still tempted. You really are. Adila’s right when she says you haven’t been yourself, or maybe you’ve been too much yourself, and you need to stop this before everybody in Hyperborea hates you forever and ever for just trying to do the right thing and just not being Adila when you did it.

“You’re not going to hurt him, right?” You blurt it out, maybe a little too loudly. “He really is a good snakes-stick, and he’s scared of the dark, so please don’t close the box! And don’t touch him! He’s my friend!”

You approach the box, and Adila backs away as you hold your friend over the box. Okay. You can do this. All you need to do is set him down, and the war’s gonna be over. That’s all you need to do. Just let go. Adila won’t close the box. She can’t.

And that’s when you hear Zipatoot buzzing in alarm. The poor dear’s worrying her head off, zipping this way and that!

+What is that?+ Adila’s voice has an edge to it that makes you wince.

“It’s just my Zipatoot, she’s scared! Probably because she sees you and me and thinks— I’ll be just a moment!”

Adila is saying not to go, but she’s not your commander anymore. I want to get to Zipatoot!

Caddy responds by thrumming in that satisfied way and pop! You have little wings on your ankles! You flutter right up to Zipatoot and cradle her mirror head. “Shoosh, shoosh, widdle Zipatoot. It’s all right, Mommy’s here. What’s the matter?”

And Zipatoot, bobbing up and down on her pretty glass dragonfly wings, shows you in her mirror face. You see Adila’s soldiers, carrying nets, and witches from Hecatia, carrying serious-looking wands, and you see them hiding in the Bazaar. They’re here. They’re here. She asked you to come without your army and she brought hers anyway to capture you so you can be punished for the rest of your life. I trust the princess I care about to do the right thing, she said. What a big fat stupid lie that was!

+Euphie?+

how dare she how dare she how dare she how dare she how dare she how dare she how dare she how dare she how dare she

“Everything’s fine.” You’re floating down. You’re floating over a sea of fire and fury. Caddy’s confused drone is bigger than all of Hyperborea crammed in your head. When you explode you’re gonna be the biggest brightest most beautiful set of fireworks in all of Hyperborea and won’t everybody feel sorry for you then??? “My silly widdle Zipatoot just didn’t understand what was going on. She was scared you were going to hurt me.”

You look her in the eyes that aren’t there. “But you’re not.” You smile like glass, so easily broken. “Because you trust me. And I trust you. And once this is over, we’re going to go back to being bestest friends, right?”

liar liar liar liar liar liar this whole time this whole time lie about armies lie about Ourania lie about feelings lie about everything lie again you dare her LIE AGAIN GO AHEAD DO IT

+That’s right.+

liar liar liar pants on fire

A thin streak flashes out from the tip of Caddy, towards Adila and her stupid little friends, going so far and so fast, and then it explodes! Boom! Pow! How’s that for fireworks??

Then everything is chaos and Adila is yelling for her friends to come and save her while you and Caddy bring her whole world tumbling down on her head in fire and sand and won’t that teach her a lesson, huh?

“I’ll never forgive you, Adila!” Your Glass Knights are stomping on a witch and poor widdle Zipatoot is under a net and they cracked her mirror and you are going to punish them all so much. What you did to Ourania is going to look like small potatoes! You’re going to make Adila say how silly and bad and terrible she is all the time instead of what she wants to say! You’re going to trap all of those nasty soldiers inside mirrors and then drop the mirrors down stairs! You’ll make Adila dance ballet on puppet strings for the rest of her life and then never show up to her dance recitals and she’ll have to tell everyone what a horrible person she is while she does it!!

She wants to be the hero? She wants to make everybody hate you for doing what she couldn’t?? Then you’ll be the very worst, just for her!!!

“I’m never ever not in a million years going to forgive you, and you! are! the worst friend!!!”

***

Rita!

There’s one surefire way to handle the world going really, really weird, and that’s just to ride the wave and not make a scene until you end up someplace where you can put yourself back together. You’re Askaian. You have had a lot of practice at this.

So when you end up dropping right on your little kitty butt next to everyone else right on the cold stone floor, you close your eyes and count the number of limbs you have until you get the same number three times in a row, and then you open your eyes.

Oh. Uh. You’re still not on the bad trip, right? This certainly feels more solid and real than the flashbacks to Summerveil and then that bit where you were screaming for Lina to come out and face you while you hit exploding golf balls into the walls of Hobling Keep, all the while surrounded by an army of really freaky dudes. Yeah, yeah, don’t trust anything the incense shows you about a relationship, it’s just as likely to blow your fears out of proportion as your hopes, but... you don’t really feel that Alina’s hiding behind walls? Heck no. She’s tearing them down between the two of you.

Right. Yeah. Tentacles. Focus on that.

There are a bunch of slimy black tentacles in bronze armor coming out of the walls and the floor, doing their best to crush Eska (boo! hiss!) and, oh, oh Ourania, Dandy’s still tied up and rolling around frantically between really meaty tentacle slaps on the floor around her. Some princess needs to do something to help!

But everyone else is still really, really spaced out and trying to put themselves together. You huff and turn back into a cat, the better to get to her without getting hit. A princess’s job is never done!

As you charge valiantly towards her, claws at the ready, you can’t help but notice the trail of ruined tentacles Azora Howl’s leaving in her wake as she flies at high speed towards the bier in the back of the room.

The bier where a young princess lies in a glass casket, hands pressed over her stomach in gentle repose, and over her bobs the same really ominous scepter that Ourania told you about, and wait, this is the tomb of Eupheria?

Well, that explains a whole lot.

Oh hairballs.

Alina is crying.

Her face is pressed hard against the ground, which is the only reason the dark chamber isn't full of the sounds of her little whimpers and moans. The rest of her writhes and twists like a serpent, or one of the many tentacles swarming about the room just beyond the relative safety of the entrance. Her arms twist at unnatural angles. They rise up behind her back, then one whips forward and hits her in the head while the other flails about off to the side. Her legs thrash this way and that, sometimes together, sometimes apart. Her glass boots beat out a staccato on the dull floor.

When her head turns, she sucks in air like she thinks she's dying. In out, in out, in out, inout inout inout inoutinoutinoutinoutinout. Then her neck cranes and her face rolls back onto the ground and she falls back into quiet sobbing. Her entire body is drenched in sweat. Her lavender hair is turned a much deeper shade of purple, and it clings to her face and her neck in clumps or messy strands. Her skirt is stuck to her legs so badly it may as well be painted on. When she finally manages to roll on her back, the silks don't shift at all.

Tears stream down her cheeks to her lips, which curl into a wide, manic smile.

Then she stands, all at once. Her legs tense and her back arches, and then she lifts up onto her feet as though pulled up on puppet strings. One hand reaches up to squeeze her forehead. She takes a shaky step forward, and then quickly takes it back. She takes another breath, in, out. In. Out. In... Out.

She turns. Her eyes fall on Adila. Green retreats deep into the back of them.

All of a sudden, it's like her feet grew wings. All of her shakiness melts into nothing, and she crosses the space between them like it was never there in the first place. On her head, Gold glints dully, almost as if it was apologizing. The rest of her colors don't seem to have that problem. Red light twists about her arm like ribbons. The sound of glove striking scales echoes sharply across the clock chamber, above all the other commotion.

"How could you?!" she shrieks, voice hysterical, "After everything we've been through together! We made a promise to help each other, didn't we? Didn't we?! And now you're just... now you..!"

Alina shakes up and down her entire body. She stares up into Adila's golden eyes while hurt and confusion swirl across her face, and her ragged breathing finishes her sentence for her.

Princess Adila staggered from the force of the blow, legs shaking. When had it happened? When had she broken? Wasn't it just yesterday that she'd smiled that invincible smile? When had... everything...

+I'm doing this for everyone's good+ she thought on pure reflex, eyes welling up with tears she didn't understand. +It's... not like that...+

Dandy Eska! Eska was in trouble and that was meant to be her priority...! But why was it this way? That trying to do the right thing hurt people? She was so certain but she couldn't reconcile that certainty with the tears that both of them had in their eyes. She just wanted to stop. She just wanted to stop and work this out but... how could she? There was still... so much work to do... and she couldn't wait. She couldn't take the time, the chance. C-could she?

+I'm s-sor-+ the thought tangled and snarled through tears and confusion. And then she was rushing away to do what she had to do and it felt like her heart was breaking all over again.

Kazelia is mid-cartwheel when she starts to snap back into a different reality. She'd known something off was, but the force of the vision had been so vivid, so real. She had felt herself burn with Adila's words. She had felt the signboard in her hands, its wood as real as anything she'd ever touched, more real than most. And she had felt her heart skip a beat when Adila had looked right at her.

She manages to hold onto the momentum of her cartwheel and careen into a tentacle with something resembling a spear slash and give herself enough space to shake her head and try to take in what she's seeing. There's, things coming through everywhere, some in armor, some not. Eska's robots are being fought and subdued, Eska herself is under assault and not Kazelia's concern. Alina and Adila are...recovering? They weren't hurt, figure that out later. Rita's doing something heroic (woo!) and Azora is...oh no!

Azora was racing towards Eupheria and the Caduceus. If she got it, well, Kazelia wasn't quite sure, but from what Ourania had said, it would at least give Azora the power to escape from here easily and present it to Oberon. And if he got it...Hyperborea was doomed.

Kazelia wished she knew some of the magic that Azora did. Wouldn't it be perfect if she could somehow reverse the earlier vision and stop Azora by pinning her to the wall with shadow shackles? She can't though, even if she knew the spell, it's almost certain Azora would have wards to prevent that sort of thing, or simply wave them away with a spare hand.

So, instead, Kazelia races forward. She whistles for Shiva, but her mount is coming too slowly, herself not fully shaking off the effects of the visions, and not being present for the observatory scene for Kazelia to bring with her. So instead she's running with pounding steps on the cold stone floor. Her spear blazes with light and fire, casting long waving shadows as it cleaves through any tentacles in her way, leaving the faint hiss of melting bronze. The north wind is at her back hastening her steps until she's almost but not quite flying.

But then, *boom* Kazelia has to use her magic, all her strength, and plant her spear like a pole vaulter to avoid the explosion of one of Eska's hidden traps. They hadn't all been disarmed and some of them are here now too. She manages the swerve, landing with a roll and coming up with her spear as she tries to reorient herself. She's racing after Azora again, this time casting little ice crystals ahead of her, trying to find the trip wires that send out the poison bolts only to realize that they're some kind of invisible boundary field and being forced to stop and twirl her spear to burn the bolts out of the air before they hit her. She sets off explosives ahead of her and swerves out of the way as a line of scarab beetles emerges from some recess in the floor she's just passed and tries to converge on her from behind.

These things are distraction and slowdowns. She's leaving her own wake of broken weapons and burnt tentacles as she advances on the Caduceus to try and match Azora. If she can just get there first, she can keep it safe, or at least intercept her sister before she can grab it.

Azora Howl!

You are the loyal daughter.

One by one, this sugary pastel world is peeling away the false and insincere promises of your sisters. Where is Kaja’s stalwart resolve? Where is Asteria’s iron will? Where is Kazelia’s oath to loyally serve as first of the king’s lancers? One by one, they will be brought back to heel.

You know you could have infinite power over Hyperborea. If you seized the Caduceus for yourself— there, hanging above the dead princess— it would be yours to shape as you pleased, but that would be short-sighted. What is one world when you have seen wonders beyond your imagination? What is indulgence when you have love?

The lesson of Hyperborea, in the end, will be that you alone love your father best, and that is why he treasures you above all your sisters. That is why you tricked the dragon out of her skin, that is why you distilled the lights of Ilumina, that is why you will wrap the Caduceus in your cloak and take it safely to your father’s hands, and that is why he will always love you best of all.

The feeble traps of the chamber do nothing to impede you as you soar across the chamber, swift as a shadow over the face of the moon. Your own shadows lash out, razor-edged, and carve through tentacles and spears, even cleaving through a giant stone as it drops from the ceiling. It lands in two perfect halves on either side of the chamber, crushing writhing tentacles like serpents trod underfoot.

Your feet don’t touch the stairs leading up to the Caduceus; your shadow glides smoothly over the cyclopean stones, until you hover over the casket and the dead princess. This close, you can feel its power: the tingle on your skin, the soft susurrus in the back of your head, the taste of magic on your tongue. Quickly you release your cloak clasp and wrap it about your hands, reaching out for the staff, its stained glass serpents of red and gold twisted around a rod of black stone.

A hand covers the staff right where you meant to take it. Long, pale fingers, wrapped tightly, possessively. On instinct, you reach higher, meaning to wrench it away. Another hand closes tight around it. Then another, and another, and another, all the same, but stretching from the base to just below the heads of the serpents.

The owner of the hands swings the Caduceus back over her shoulder, impossibly. There wasn’t room for her behind the Caduceus, even if she is lanky and spindly and all angles! And where are all those arms coming from??

“VIBE CHEEEEEECK!”

You raise your hands and immediately cast a warding-spell, which the Caduceus smashes through effortlessly as the woman swings it with every one of her arms right at your head. The moment in which it makes contact seems to last forever, and there is the sound of rushing wind and cheering in your ears.

Then, your cheek stinging furiously, you are sent flying back, spinning madly head over head over head. Atop the dias— not that you’ve noticed yet— your body crumples at the feet of the Queen.

***

Kazelia!

There’s weird.

There’s really weird.

And there’s catching your sister’s head.

She is — improbably, impossibly, only because it amuses Eupheria — still alive. Probably, reattaching her head would be as easy as plopping it onto her shoulders, though maybe you’d have to spin it around a few times to get it screwed back on.

And she is furious.

“How dare she?!?” she manages to pant out after the initial shock and horror fades. “Kazelia, go get my body right now!” It’s the Big Sister voice, and it almost makes you spring into action even now. Almost.

But this? This is a different sort of problem entirely. This is the Wicked Queen before you, in full control of her powers. It’s time to rethink your strategy on the fly.

***

Alina!

The Wicked Queen is here, and she’s had a long, long time to prep her wardrobe for just this moment. Horribly, she’s not just the bogeyman of your childhood right now: she’s someone you recognize, as if she was your own sister. You recognize that manic giggle as she doubles over in midair, in absolute hysterics. You recognize her aspirations to be feared and respected, now realized. You even recognize her morbid, surreal aesthetic, finally given the most intimate of canvases.

The bodysuit clinging to her willowy frame is glossy, light-eating black, the death of color, the backdrop for her display. The Iluminan silks draped across her body, writhing under their own power, are the iridescence of an oil slick. Her magenta hair is tied in braids so intricate they almost become scales, with opals woven into them serving as rows of serpentine eyes. (Mommy once taught you a secret: magenta is not a real color, but what we see when we see a color that cannot be understood.) An oversized floofy bow hangs in her hair, cyan and black, plain and simple, the colors of a shrine maiden inverted. It’s deliberate.

Her lights swirl around her like a halo, each one bright and sickly, the most unnatural colors you’ve ever seen in your life.

And her eyes are each neon spirals of teal and lime chasing themselves forever, swirling like whirlpools, dangerously entrancing. She always loved the spotlight, after all. What better way than to have eyes you can’t look away from?

***

Adila!

“For the last time, Adila!” Eska is very disgruntled, considering that you are both protecting her from the tentacles by letting them rain down blows painfully on your own body, and also protecting her from her terrible hypnotizing sister by sitting on her.

Whatever else she says, as Rita fiercely defends Dandy with an Iluminan ribbon and her own Askaian claws, is drowned out by the cadence of that so familiar voice, full of that awful power and dread.

“Oh my gosh, did you, did you really think? I just up and died of a broken heart?? And Caddy would just be here for you to steal? You’re all so stupid, I love it!”

She wipes away a tear with an unsettlingly long ginger and sighs shakily, still grinning.

“Right. Let’s have a better look at you.”

She twirls the Caduceus twice and taps it against her own (presumably faked) casket, and gravity orients towards her with a sickening lurch. Not your sense of down being down, or the room moving in any way, just “things fall towards Eupheria now.”

The question for you and everyone else is not how you intend to escape. It’s how many tentacles you’re going to slam into on your way, and how tightly you’re going to cling to Eska to stop her from being hurt or from wriggling away.

[@Everyone: roll +Grace. On a 10+ neither, on a 7-9 one, on 6- both:

• lose something or someone important
• take damage]

Princess Adila's mind is a storm of priorities. Save Eska. Save Dandy. Save Hyperborea. Save Eupheria. For all that she's previously agonized about being too big this feels like a moment where she's not big enough. She's pulled in every direction, wings and tail and tumbling, even before gravity shifts and tentacles drag her down. Save everybody!!

It's too much. She twists and ties and lands in a bundle at Eupheria's feet, heart torn in every possible direction.

[Damaging courage]

The world is suddenly facing a different direction. Kazelia has just an instant to make note of it and think to herself that it's somewhat different from the tests she faced in the void. This was not a conjured thing of her mind or a formless reality taking shape, it was more sudden. It was like some odd machine at Hobling Keep that could turn any way you pleased without falling over, except done to the whole space they were in.

Well, at any rate, that's about as far as Kazelia's sense impression got before she was too busy falling. That also meant she was too busy not being in control of her own motions to go fetch Azora's body or do something simple like keep hold of her head.
[Losing Azora in the fall.] "Sorry Az!" she manages to shout as the head goes flying away.

Then she's coming in hard for an impact, and she has just enough presence of mind to get a hand on her staff and use its shield to cushion the blows of the tentacles flailing at her as she passes by. [using one charge of the staff of safe travels to prevent damage.]

From the day Alina began her exile from the fallen Illumina, Alina has carried exactly one treasure with her that neither time or the most dedicated efforts of the Riders or even the Slaugh was able to take from her. It's the treasure she's been most fiercely protective of, that guided her through so many difficult decisions and painful moments. It's the treasure that she turned to on sleepless nights. It helped her prove her existence when nothing else could.

Memory. Alina has always remembered the little details of her life more sharply than other people; she's always been able to conjure a moment in her head to push her forward whenever she's needed it the most. They're the fuel that power her love. But consequently, she's also always proved completely defenseless against them. She's never once in her life gone to Askaia and not gotten lost in the mist, not even with Rita holding her hand the whole way into the city. They were like water, and she was a fish. It couldn't be that surprising that she was having more trouble than any of the others making it back to the surface again.

There's an awful lurching feeling in her stomach when she looks up at Eupheria. The shards of her mind that are rooted to the Now register shocks of color, and tell her that all of the colors are wrong. She feels ill. And at the same time, somehow oddly comforted, which only makes the sickness creep deeper inside of her. This too is family. Her family. Her--

All at once she tumbles bodily into the present, without a single effort to right herself or fall gracefully as was her nature. She tumbles in an errant tangle of princess and unseemly yelping. Her own colors flare brightly around her to protect her from the journey. And then... she stops. And then they stopped.

They are overjoyed, her lights. How long has it been since they've seen these sisters?! Alina feels a jolt of pure terror as for the first time in her life, they disobey her. She stops glowing, all except for her crystal eyes. Instead, above Eupheria two sets of lights twirl, dance, chime, and twinkle in the language of their kind. Even Gold floats somewhere between the two of them, as if it were a mother supervising this rather large gala. And though Alina tried immediately to call them back, nothing happens. Nothing at all. Her lights are there, but they won't listen to her.

[Alina is damaging the first layer of her lights to avoid damage from the fall, but after that they become the precious thing she loses]

Rita von Catabas!

You fall, bouncing off bronze breastplates and reorienting yourself as best you can in the chaos. Everything in you is yowling that down is still down, despite the nausea of falling sideways at high speed, and it’s all you can do not to lose your lunch. Blech!

And right before you can fling yourself at high speeds at Eupheria to try and stop her... the lights go out. Everything winks out. You float in empty blackness, and when you yowl for Alina, there’s no sound. There’s nothing at all.

Then the lights blink on, right in your eyes, and you flinch with a hiss as the fanfare plays.

“Goooooood evening, everybody! This is Tonight With Queen Eupheria, presenting uh-live from her bespoke dungeon dimension!”

When your eyes adjust, you realize you’re sitting on a couch next to Eska, who is— oh. Oh whiskers. She’s wearing a ruffled lace top and leather trousers, and her hair is pulled back in true swashbuckler chic. She was not wearing that a second ago, and she’s not supposed to be that hot. Gah!

For what it’s worth, she in turn looks a little flustered by your ladybug-themed polka dot dress and the cute yellow bandana over your hair, with little holes for your ears.

And, okay, there’s Lina in the floofiest dress you’ve ever seen and her hair up in a bun, sitting in a chair nearby, and Kazelia in a daring off-the-shoulder gown, and next to her the angriest little owl you’ve ever seen in your life, and Adila sitting on her own couch, wearing a peacock-patterned ball gown. And there’s Dandy in an oversized sweater with little bows on it and tights, and Isolde(?!?) in a Konkon-style kimono, too.

“As we all know,” Eupheria says, her high heels clacking on the stage before the vast audience of her nightmare army, her awful gremlins and black glass knights and the huge figure of her glass dragon, “back when Adila locked me away and threw away the key, I promised you all that if someone came and saved me, saved us, I’d do anything to thank them.” She’s wearing a sharp iridescent suit now, with loose sleeves that flop down to cover her hands, and she’s talking into the Caduceus, shrunk down to the size of a wand. Both her unnaturally garish lights and Alina’s pure, wholesome lights are swirling around her.

“But nobody came.”

For a moment... for that line... her voice is raw and small. Then she turns impossibly sharp on her heel to look at you all, the crowd booing viciously behind her, in command and in control once again.

“Can you believe that? Nobody! Not one person in all of Hyperborea said to themselves, hey, maybe she’s getting cramped in there, how about we offer her parole? So I figured, if Hyperborea has turned its back on me, why not destroy everything when I got out, instead? And let me tell you, I made a checklist. Boil the seas away to start things off, then chop down Argossa and use it for kindling, and then tear down every kingdom brick by brick until there’s nowhere left to hide for every stinking, miserable little wretch who abandoned me!” She looms over you all, suddenly ten feet tall, her teeth turning to hideous fangs as she screeches her fury, magenta hair lashing like a nest full of writhing snakes—

And then she giggles, and it’s like flipping a switch. The fangs are gone, she’s shrunk down to merely being tall and willowy, and she’s back to being outrageously, ominously bubbly.

“But then, you know, you think of one thing, then you think of another, and soon enough it’s like, bluh, how am I even supposed to choose, right? Soooo many options! That’s why I made the...”

“WHEEL! OF! FAAAAAAATE!!!”

To the sound of the crowd’s roaring, she waves a hand and up out of the stage rises a huge, huge, huge wheel. Every one of the little slices of the wheel has text in Eupheria’s wild handwriting and plenty of illustrations:

• host a rainbow tea party for everyone in Hyperborea, let bygones be bygones! :)
• BURN DOWN ARGOSSA AND BLOW THE SUN AND MOON OUT OF THE SKY, REPLACE EVERYTHING WITH MY FACE
• Princess 2 Prince, Boy Extravaganza!!!
• Everyone Is Cat (Except Askaians, Who Will Be Dog)
• TEN THOUSAND YEARS OF SPARKLY TERROR
• put everyone in their own personal dungeon dimension, see how THEY like it
• grant my gallant rescuer(s) their hearts’ desire!
• LABYRINTH OF TORMENT, BROADCAST LIVE
• everybody gets a limited edition Shadow War teacup and box of lemon cake mix :)
• erase everyone’s hearts
• make bridges between all the worlds so nobody has to lose their eyes again
• turn Ouroboros into a worm, go fishing
• FLIP HYPERBOREA UPSIDE DOWN SO EVERYONE HAS TO LIVE IN THE DARK NOW
• turn everybody into me! :)
• Crossover Episode?
• bees!!!
• turn Ourania into a puppy and then abandon her by the side of the road with a sign that says she’s a bad dog and everyone should ignore her and then go and kick her just to be sure she’s miserable for the rest of her life
• retire to Axonia and make new bespoke parrots
• turn everybody into dragons? no chance this will backfire!!!!

“Would my lovely assistant please come turn the wheel?” The spotlights fall on Azora’s body, dressed in a spangly leotard. The owl screeches furiously. Azora’s body curtseys, then takes the great slats of the wheels in both hands and sets it spinning with a mighty heave.

Slowly, but gaining speed, it begins to spin, a little Caduceus-shaped needle up at the top indicating which one she intends to inflict on Hyperborea. Ooooh boy.

claka-claka-claka-claka-clack

“While we’re waiting on the results, let’s hear from our intrepid guests! Go ahead, introduce yourselves— one at a time, please— and tell us all what brought you here! What your hopes and dreams are, what you think of your host, and why, after all that time, you’re setting me free now!”

She taps the miniature Caduceus against her lips and grins. Her eyes are endless pits of swirling color that make you feel like you’re going to fall in, or maybe lose yourself trying to keep track of where one color ends and the other begins. “And no lies, please.”

claka-claka-claka-claka-clack

“Hello,” you say, waving at the crowd, suddenly jolted from watching her eyes. No princess of Askaia will shirk from a challenge to be so cute and so adorable they win the hearts of a nightmare army! “My name’s Rita von Catabas, Princess of the Askaian Isles, and I’m Alina’s girlfriend! I’ve wanted to kiss her since we were both little kittens, and when she asked me out in Argossa, it was a dream come true! I didn’t feel I was worthy of it— I needed her help to save my home, wasn’t there when she needed me in Jedad, and couldn’t save a princess who saved me in turn in Feloria, but the way she looks at me makes me feel like the most special princess in the world.” You’re a little surprised you’re going into so much detail, but you turn and give Alina the sweetest smile in all of Hyperborea.

“We didn’t mean to save you,” you continue, continuing onwards, feeling a weird pressure building in the back of your head, “because everyone thought you were dead, or just a story, and I actually have no clue how you’re still alive after all this time. And when I was just a little kitten the story of you and Princess Carmilla and how you made the brave cat princess into your pet made me so flustered that even now that I’m all grown up I fantasize about doing that with Alina even though my parents would be horrified if they found out but that’s okay because Alina knows and accepts that I’m into that!!”

claka-claka-claka-claka-clack

You are going to melt. You are going to melt right through your seat and through the floor and all the way down to Devilhome. Eska is snickering loudly. You are blushing furiously and the hysterical roar of the crowd is like the crashing of the waves on the shore and you are actually starting to sniffle and cry and why did you say that??

“Well, thank you so much for sharing that with us,” Queen Eupheria says, hiding her laughter behind her hand, floating a signed souvenir picture of herself over to you captioned to my adoring fan, “who’s next~?”

Now you can’t say anything else, can’t try to explain or complain. One At A Time, Please. All you can do is bury your face in your paws and sob with humiliation, but not at so loud a volume it would stop someone else from taking their turn.

claka-claka-claka-claka-clack

[Broken Heart — Eupheria cannot be Finished with Wisdom or Grace. Damage this stat when her heart is made whole.
Wicked Queen — Eupheria cannot be Finished with Blood, Sense or Courage. Damage this stat when she renounces her crown.
Caddy And I Are One — Eupheria may rewrite her own stats and tags. Damage this stat when she no longer possesses the Caduceus.

The CADUCEUS is a Source of Power that allows the bearer to inflict Location Stats at will.

Eupheria has inflicted the Location Stats Zone of Compulsive Truth and One At A Time, Please on the stage of Tonight With Eupheria.]

Feathers swirled around her ankles as she stood and raised her head. The emerald green plumes hugged her figure so tightly they seemed almost like part of her, transitioning seamlessly from soot-black scales to the glitter-green of the rainforest, to fire-red blues and greens. It was like she was being swept backwards, all her energy on her extremities - while her Crystal Gala dress had served to emphasize her form this did the opposite, almost erasing that there was a dragon there at all. She seemed like two golden eyes floating in the midst of swirling blue and red feathered eyes. Her bare neck was slender, birdlike, so naked against the backdrop of the dress. It made her seem slender, beautiful, fragile and weak.

+Hi everyone, I'm Princess Adila II,+ thought Adila. There was a miserable and apologetic undertone to her thoughts, a defeated sullenness. +You already know that I'm too weak to handle my own emotions, let alone fight off a hypnotist. I've got three of them acting on me right now, you know? Princess Eupheria, of course, and Princess Eska, but you probably don't know that I've been under the influence of Princess Adila I all this time. Her spirit can act and speak through me and I've been pretending not to notice because I'm kind of into being mentally dominated.+

She immediately tried to sit down again. And she immediately discovered that she couldn't. The spotlight blared onto her and wouldn't let her leave. A deep sigh ran through her body and her shoulders slumped with the weight of a secret confession finally forced to the open.

She fastidiously looked away into a corner and you could feel her trying to pretend that she wasn't telepathic at all and was just thinking these things to herself. +But that's a half truth. The real reason I like it is because I think I'm polyamorous. I am intensely attracted to multiple people for very different reasons. I go out of my way to string them along while avoiding real commitment because I don't want to lose any of them. I know that my only real, healthy relationship is with Princess Dandy, and I love her deeply and don't want to hurt her. So instead I look for moments when I can pretend to not be in control of myself and lean into them, while hoping that in the long term I grow out of it enough to settle down.+

She almost fell back into her chair the moment the spotlight left her, and immediately slumped down as low as she'd go.

The spotlight turns to Kazelia, who's wearing a long, sweeping gown in bright white with diagonal slashes of black running down the chest from the covered shoulder to just below the waist. Unlike her Gala dress, which had been subtle and served to highlight her new skin and the vibrancy of her body, this dress competed with her, its color contrasts and her own skin all vying to be the center of attention. The dress itself glittered and sparkled like a rainbow with diamonds set throughout the fabric and woven into it, and the long train completely obscured Kazelia's legs and spooled out to gather at the base of where she sat, making it look sort of like she melted into her cushioned seat.

"Uh, hi. My name is..." *record scratch noise* "...Kazelia Swiftlance. The last part's kind of a title, but I really like it and I think I'm going to keep it. I'm the very magical and kind of military daughter of Oberon Greymane, who's a totally evil force of arrogance and dominance that scours worlds until they're frozen, personified in a shapechanging man. My mother is a distant memory of a warm lodge in a cold, lost world. My other mother is the Void herself. She's here with me and kind of is me now?" *Record scratch noise again* "I channel a series of ancient songs that run through the universe and connect hearts, and I let my mother into mine along with some other people who are all sort of connected to me now. She really hates false things though and she's kind of unhappy with this whole setup, but we can't seem to tear ourselves out of it for the moment."

Kazelia pauses, seems to hesitate, there's a sense of reality flashing like static for an instant before coming back into focus still with Eupheria in charge. "Actually, I'm working on a spell that will mess up how this game is structured and control the outcome of the wheel, I just need a couple more minutes and it should be done." Kazelia flushes like her own mouth has betrayed her, which is absolutely has, but even with that the spotlight still hasn't left her.

"In the meantime, I um...I'm kind of struggling with feeling like an imposter right now. I spent a really long time being an awful person who hurt other people and had to be in control of things at all times or my sisters would take advantage of me and hurt me. Especially the owl over there, my big sister Azora is really mean and scary! But since I got here I've learned a lot of different things and even that being kidnapped can be a fun and good thing for people to enjoy and I kind of really like that..." Kazelia blushes a very dark purple. "Actually, if I'm being honest, since I talked to Alina recently and learned she's kind of into that too, I'm really curious to have her tie me up and see how it's different than with the Konkon. I mean, if Rita's okay with it. Or if, um, Rita wanted to join in too, she's really cool and I'd be pretty happy with that."

Kazelia looks like she wants to sink into the ground and die, but keeps going on one more thing. "To be honest though, I'm really worried with everything that's happened to me, and how I'm still a Rider even though nobody else is, and how I used to be and everything that if I ever really give up control I'll end up hurting people and all my friends will realize that there's no place for me in Hyperborea except some kind of distant retreat in Argossa or in Devilhome maybe and I'll have to be all alone most of the time because I'm not safe to be around and I'm not even totally sure if I'm still me anymore."

Kazelia looks like she's on the verge of tears as the spotlight moves away from her. She tries to look over to Adila, or Alina, or Rita. She starts to process what the others had said too, but it all seems to be too much.

It takes Alina a while to speak up. It's not that she doesn't have anything to say! It's more that... it's taking her forever to get a handle on her dress. Every time she moves even a little bit, the hoops in her skirt shift and the entire massive ensembles rolls up and seems to swallow her in her chair. Layer after layer after layer of the brightest, gaudiest, girliest pink you've ever laid eyes on flare up and over the top of her, which does a wonderful job of showing off the lacy ridge at the bottom and the stiletto heels with obnoxiously oversized bows on the tops of her feet that she's been forced into, but also turns her from the graceful ideal of Illuminan Princessing to a hopelessly silly girl who can't stop fidgeting or even master sitting.

She has to stand up to get a handle on it. She's immediately forced back down, but she's able to tuck her feet underneath her like a mermaid's tail, and that's enough to squash this stupid skirt into obedience. She tugs up on the fuzzy pink top to keep it from slipping off of her chest. Sleeveless dresses have never entirely been Alina's friend, but it's doubly difficult when Eupheria has apparently decided she needs a little more wowza up top and has filled out the chest with a frankly insulting amount of padding. Her frame can't possibly carry this much cleavage! She pouts and she sighs, silently. Only her eyes seem unchanged. Hard crystal, eternal and defiant. Green pulses softly, demanding her sisters back.

"My name is Alina Cascade, and I'm the current Princess-Promised of Illumina. I... think I'm going to wind up being Queen soon. My Mom is really sick and I don't think she can get better and take care of the kingdom at the same time. But I'm really worried about it, because if I can't find the right medicine to help her she might freeze over again anyway and, besides, I'm the worthless idiot who let Oberon take Illumina in the first place, what kind of terrible Queen would I make?"

She's interrupted by a laugh track. Alina's face burns with shame. Her eyes continue to burn with quite a different set of feelings. She opens her mouth to say something, but her voice is drowned out like an out of tune radio. More laughter. She tries again: static. The laugh track, the same exact sound clip just stuck on a loop, rises to deafening levels. Alina takes a deep breath and recomposes herself.

"I'm, um, really mad at you for making Kazelia admit she wants me to tie her up, even though I'm definitely excited to try it and I know that Rita just loves the idea of threesomes because when we're making out at night sometimes we'll talk about how wonderful it would be to get kidnapped by Esmeralda. You know, as a couples' activity! B-but that's not the point! You're mean and awful and you stole my lights, I want them back! Looking at you makes my heart feel sick... for my whole life, I've always thought that families were the most special things in the world. We're supposed to support each other and share all of our happiest moments together. My family's always been there to pick me up in all my worst moments, even when nobody else would, and I want to be like that for them! But... but how can I, when an awful bully like you is family, too?"

She whimpers as all of a sudden, a crushing force pushes her head down to stare at the floor in fake contrition. How dare she say that about her favorite Auntie?! More thoughts bubble up to the surface of her mind. Her hands start trembling, and the tears bead up in her eyes.

"But I'm a big dumb liar anyway. I couldn't even keep my Momma from disappearing! She didn't say goodbye, she never wrote letters, she just left! She just left! Didn't I love you enough, Momma? What did I do wrong? Why did you leave me to lie to Jess and Free about how you felt about us? Why did you break Mom's heart? There was a reason, right? There has to be a reason! I want to believe there was a reason! But I... but I... but I..!"

Azora Howl!

You are the smallest, angriest owl. It is a blessing that you are not just an owl head, that you can still use your transformation magic, but you are— to use a turn of phrase— mode locked. You can’t turn into yourself. Probably because this mad princess doesn’t want you to.

claka-claka-claka-claka-clack

“I’m Princess Eska Glinteye. I’m here because my father wants me to bring back the Caduceus so he can use it to take over Hyperborea and force Ourania to marry him. I came here with hostages and a hypnotized dragon. Adila is ridiculously easy to hypnotize, actually, and now I understand why. The real problem is that she’s so stupid, she’ll misunderstand half of what you tell her to do. She’s like a fire-and-forget arrow that might get blown back into my face. She wants so badly to be my friend, which is pathetic, because I’m terrified of friendship. Letting people get to know me means that I’m vulnerable. My machines will never betray me, and once I master hypnosis, no one else will ever betray me, and I can relax. I’ll be safe.”

Eupheria’s not even listening. The crowd’s reacting, of course, but it’s obvious that the Wicked Queen is miles away. Something the dragon said shook her hard, and the Iluminan crybaby made it worse. Maybe she’s going to reveal she’s also polyamorous, ha!

claka-claka-claka-claka-clack

“I’m Princess Dandelion of Feloria. I’m here because, well, apparently the dragon I have feelings for likes being hypnotized too much to fight back when she’s told to kidnap me. I honestly don’t know how to feel bout the firework she dropped in my lap here; my insides are more tangled up than a wild prickler bush. But I do know one thing for sure, sure as rain in the summer: you’re cruel, ma’am. Dragging folk’s secrets out of their own mouths is nasty as it gets, and if you had a heart, you would have stopped it the moment poor little Rita started crying. You almost certainly didn’t deserve to get locked up here for so long, but from the looks of it you didn’t learn a blamed thing from it, and so I must admit, in all this magic honesty, that I am looking forward to kicking your butt, taking your magic staff away from you, and putting it somewhere where no one can abuse it again. Then I can start thinking about what to do with Adila, seeing as I never made my move, being too worried I’d pressure her to have to pick between her career and my devotion to my kingdom, but apparently she also just felt picking between me and every other girl that caught her eye was too difficult, and I know that’s not fair but dangit I can’t not say it because of someone’s magic spell, so go jump in a bull pen and land in a pie, ma’am.”

The farm girl’s lucky Eupheria is so out of it. If you were in her shoes, if you had her power— not that you’d ever take it for yourself, of course, but would father really mind if you tested it out— you’d already have turned her into a braying donkey.

claka-claka-claka-claka-clack

“I am Isolde. I used to be the king of Ilumina, but I don’t deserve that title any more. Years ago, I discovered that I had the attention of a dark witch-cult growing in the heart of Ilumina itself, one that idolized your reign of nightmares over all of Hyperborea as the height of Ilumina’s power and importance. They wanted me, your descendant, to come here and take the Caduceus so that I could overthrow Ourania and lead Ilumina to victory over every other kingdom, especially Jedad, because of our frankly ridiculous feud. One of them, Constance Reedley, tried to kidnap my little girls in order to blackmail me. She never even got into the castle keep before being apprehended, but I was afraid. I couldn’t bear seeing my little girls in harm’s way. So I abdicated and pretended, for years, that I didn’t care about my family. I spent those years rooting out every Iluminan supremacist and misguided witch who thought my reign would perfect as long as they were on my side. I buried every hint I could find about you and your tomb, and even if I’d known you were alive, I would have done the same thing. I will never let your shadow hurt my family, and I will never be the person you became. So I intend to take that cursed Devil treasure away from you, snap it over my knee, throw it in the Devil’s Gulch, and go home to my family, and tell my girls the truth: that I love them more than I love anything else in all of Hyperborea. Your shadow has ruined years of my life! I had to miss little Jess’s first steps! I had to pretend that I never cared about my precious girls! I will never be like you, Grandmother. Also, while I’m furious at your abuse of magic to wring truths out of us all, I am grateful that I can say right now, honestly and truthfully, that I love Alina, that I always have, and that I am very proud of her and her relationship with Rita von Catabas, who is a lovely girl who should not be ashamed of what she enjoys.”

Did that make Eupheria flinch? The crowd is dead silent. You hop up to take your turn as Isolde starts crying, just like everyone else who’s friends with Alina Cascade.

claka-claka-claka-claka-clack

“I am Princess Azora Howl,” you say. “I crave my father’s love and approval more than anything else in the world. You are dangling unlimited power over this world in front of me, and I only want to play with it a little, turn everyone here into my helpless playthings, humiliate them— you know, much like you’re doing now. I would be happy to give you some pointers. But after that, I will take the Caduceus and give it to my father, because I am the only thing Oberon truly loves and nothing and no one will take that away from me. Not my failures of sisters, not pretty sparkle princesses, not you and not Ourania. I am the perfect daughter.”

You conclude by preening your wing, and Eupheria takes center stage again.

“Well! Well well well well well! What a delightful bunch of princesses we have here tonight! I feel especially fortunate to have my loving family and Adila’s little lapdog here with us! I must be the luckiest queen in all of Hyperborea! The things I’m going to do to you three~! The exquisite torments! I’ll make Adila experience every second, too, and she’ll know that it’s her fault!” She giggles, one hand held over her face, her lime-and-teal eyes visible through her fingers.

It is, somehow, the scariest thing you have ever seen.

Then the wheel stops with a solid ka-thunk.

A gasp rises from the crowd as Eupheria wheels around furiously and stares at the result: the needle sits perfectly between “LABYRINTH OF TORMENT, BROADCAST LIVE” and “grant my rescuer(s) their hearts’ desire!”

Was this your sister’s doing? Perhaps.

Either way, Eupheria starts to laugh. She doubles over, shrieking. And then she snaps her fingers and the needle splits into two, pointing at both results.

“Well!! Looks like we’ve decided on the result!! We’re doing the LABYRINTH OF TORMENT, with hearts’ desires as our grand prize for completion of the labyrinth!”

***

Rita von Catabas!

“But Miss Eupheria!”

You look up through your running mascara and tearful lashes and see the most hideously wrong thing you’ve ever seen in your life. It looks like a cat, short and stout and running around on its chubby little hind legs. That would be bad enough! But then it opens its mouth. Its eyeless head flops back on a hinge and all there is there is teeth and a huge red wet tongue.

“Won’t the princesses just team up and make you grant all their hearts’ desires? That doesn’t seem fair!”

“That’s right, Grimalkin,” Eupheria purrs. “That wouldn’t be fair! That’s why only first place gets the prize! No silver medals, no team finishes. Everyone else has to woman up and accept their penalties!”

“Penalties, Miss Eupheria?” It sounds gleeful, and a ripple of nasty laughter runs through the crowd.

“That’s right! A game’s no fun without losers, after all.” She spins the Caduceus, and a goblin machine pops into existence next to every one of you on stage, spinning and rattling. There are dice involved, and clattering levers, and smoke belching out.

BING BING BING! Adila’s comes to a stop, displaying: [HECKHOUND]. A glossy black spiked collar wraps around her throat.

BING BING BING! Kazelia gets [LITTLE MISS KNOW-IT-ALL] and a new pair of braces to handle her buck teeth.

BING BING BING! Alina gets [ASKAIAN DAYDREAMS] and a pink collar with the nametag Mittens and it’s your fault, right? Eupheria has to be doing this on purpose. Making fun of you all again.

BING BING BING! Dandy gets [BACK ON THE FARM] and a pony’s tail growing through her tights, Eska gets [MANIC MANNEQUIN] and two red spots on her cheeks, Azora (her head deftly spun back onto her body) gets [DADDY’S LITTLE GIRL] and an oversized polka-dot hair bow, and Isolde gets [MINI-ME] and hair the same shade as Eupheria’s. (She has to be doing this on purpose. The look of horror on Isolde’s face hurts.)

Finally, yours clangs to a stop. BING BING BING! You look up, trembling.

[ARE WE PRINCESS OR ARE WE DANCER?]

A Jedadi sequined hip belt ties itself snugly around your waist. Oh. Okay. Yeah, you’ll just end up as a Jedadi dancing-girl. That’s not so bad. Lina’s actually totally into that.

“One princess gets all her dreams come true! The losers get to spend the rest of their lives as my playthings! Any questions, contestants~?”

The fanfare is deafening and the lights are blinding and Eupheria is cackling with delight and today was not supposed to go like this.

[Every princess has received a Curse. Each Curse has five segments; each time you roll a 6-, advance the transformation. When you hit five segments, you are completely transformed into Eupheria’s plaything.]

She could cry right now, if it would help any. Even though it won't, she can still feel the strain at the back of her throat that says she'd like to try. Her oh-so-clever fingers scrabble over the satiny pink (pink! why is it always pink with this woman?) collar, but they can't find a buckle or anything to untie. She tugs on it, hard enough to start hurting herself, but it's useless. She's not strong enough to break it.

How dare she? How dare Eupheria make Rita confess her special desire in front of everyone and then punish her for it like this? Look what she's done to Kazelia! And Adila! Rrrrgh, if this stupid evil queen thought she had a monopoly on being mad about things, Mittens was gonna show her a thing or... wait. Mittens? Why Mittens? That's not her name. That's not her name! Her name is Mittens, and she's-- no, not Mittens, Mittens (that's what's on your collar, silly)! Oh for the love of rainbows. She's not even allowed to think her own name? This is stupid. How is she related to this person? How is Momma?

...Oh no. Oh no, Momma! One glance at her face is enough to shatter Mittens' heart to pieces. This is her fault. She should never have asked Momma to come with her! She should have found somewhere safe for her first, she should have given her Gold, she should've... oh, Ourania forgive her, how could she lose Gold? None of this would be happening if she'd been just a little smarter, or just a little stronger. It really is all her fault.

Mittens sinks to her knees.

"Please, Eupheria!" her voice quivers with desperation, "Don't do this! I, I know you're mad! I'd be upset too if this happened to me! But please, you can't do this! None of them... I... j-just punish me! I'm the only one who matters, I'm the only real threat standing in your way! I-I-I'm not asking for mercy, you can give me all of their punishments, just please, please don't hurrrffffmmmgh?!?"

There's a brief snapping of fingers and a giggle from Eupheria, and all of a sudden Mittens is the proud owner of a Snakerchief (well, when in Jedad...), worn stylishly stuffed in her mouth. Her desperate attempts at playing for time and deflection turn into whimpers as she feels it slither its fabricy scales between her teeth.

No heroic self sacrifices for you today, young lady!

All her dreams come true? Adila doesn't even know what that looks like. Maybe today having never happened. Maybe getting to be someone else whose head wasn't a ticking time bomb of heartbreak. Maybe someone to throw a ball. You know, actually, maybe she's onto something with that last one. If someone threw a ball for her and she got to run after it then she'd get to show how good she was at running and she'd also get to show what a good girl she was for bringing it back. Wouldn't that kind of solve all of her problems in and of itself? She'd get to be fast and good. And she'd have a ball. And someone to throw it for her. And they'd throw the ball. And then! She'd bring it back! And then they'd throw it again!

Argh! No, stop, stop, stop letting it get into your head, Adila! You need to prove that you're better than that, that you can stand up for Princess Dandy when it matters. It's the only way to make things right. There's no use pretending now so you'll have to sort through your feelings honestly. Let's start by getting this collar off. Scratching it off should work, it'll be no match for your claws, and probably the most convenient leg to use is one of your hind ones and oh no damn it.

"How dare you!" Princess Kazelia tries to shout. However, her voice cracks instead, and it comes out less as a shout and more like a frog croaking "How Ddddddare youuuu" as she tries to get control of her own speech and fails utterly. She stops, tries to clear her throat, rubs at her face where her new braces are scratching her lips uncomfortably instead. Ugh, this wasn't fair. Kazelia hadn't been a teenager in actual centuries and even when she had, it had never been like this! Oh Eupheria was going to pay.

"Well..." Kazelia says, speaking more quietly and trying to keep some control over her voice (she's failing, but she's getting words out now that's she's going more slowly) "what if we all just agree that whoever wins will wish for you to lose the Caduceus and undo everybody else's punishments, huh? What then? Your little game is totally flawed." Ha, that would show her. Kazelia definitely knew everything about the situation and just had to tell the whole world. Her plan was totally and completely flawless and she was confident that she'd foiled Eupheria already and she would just give up now and surrender.