Redana does not run. Not this time! But I'm sure that Yue knows (as well as everyone does) that there is a running-ness to her. Maybe that's why everyone kept trying to kidnap her when she was younger, just to get her to slow down a little. To get her to stop coming up with new ideas for adventures, new ways of getting into trouble, new places that she wanted to see one day.

So she's like a moon, instead. She'll range ahead, and then she'll fall behind, and both she and her wife know that she'll always come back anyhow. Her top buttons are unbuttoned, and the "flannel" she wore on Portugal somehow fits right in here on Earth, even though she hasn't seen anyone else with clothes like it. Her hair is loosely tied back, loose bangs flopping into her face as she takes the world in, and she doesn't stop moving, and she doesn't stop looking, and she doesn't stop giving the impression that even though she'll never stop, this place could satisfy her for a long time. For a long, long time.

There are very few walls on Earth. And even the ones that are here, they aren't walls in the way that Tellus has walls. The stars are very bright, even at dusk, and the plants grow fierce and wild and joyful without choking the grass or the lakes or the view. Sometimes, inside her head, there's just... silence. Not the silence of not knowing anything, but the silence of experiencing everything.

She can't help but glance back (or forward) at Bella every now and then with a smile like a saint. Not a smile self-satisfied in the self, like the one that Apollo endlessly offered her, but a smile satisfied in the world around her, and particularly that Bella is also in this world, with her, without fear of loss, without fear of mothers, without fear of being alone. It is a wonderful thing for a moon to know that she will never be free of her orbit.

...for the record the fight had better not be over her, Yue. Just because she met Rosepetal doesn't mean that she's just like that sexy, sexy woman! For one thing: she's much shorter than Rosepetal. For another: she's blonde. For a third thing: Rosepetal is like a slinky panther, and Redana's more like a sheepdog. Irrefutable logic.

Dolce sits perfectly still in his seat.

Dolce opens his mouth.

Dolce says nothing.

Katherine Isabella Fluffybiscuits raises the teacup to his lips for a good sip, just like a Super Duper Good Girl should.

Katherine Isabella Fluffybiscuits leaves him tied up for his own safety, and so that he doesn’t get lost. Just like a Super Duper Good Girl should.

“Thank you for your time, ma’am, and for the tea. I know it is short notice for both.” Open mouth. Siiiiiiiiiiiip. Close mouth. “My name is Dolce; I’m one of the crew of the ship that recently landed in the Terraced Lake. My apologies for the trouble and worry we caused. We have come a rather long way, and we were not sure what we would find when we reached here. Please, do let me know if any of our number are causing any trouble, or if there are any complaints, and I will see to it that it gets sorted out. We mean no one here any harm.”

Kat sweetly bonks her head against his wool, slipping in a discrete, tasteful hrmmmmmmmmmmmmm? To remind him! Helpfully! Of the obligations of Fox Law!

“Oh, yes, and this is Katherine Isabella Fluffybiscuits Esq. She helped me find my way here.”

Dolce says nothing of demons, of lost sheep, or of the brave, selfless actions of a delicate foxgirl in remedying these matters.

Kat lets loose the beginnings of a yip, or whine, or something far, far more powerful and perilous.

“She was quite patient, to bear with me all this way. I do think a Super Duper Good Girl is patient, don’t you?”

Kat yawns, and has always been yawning, except for when she has been standing as still and as quiet as can reasonably be expected of an unjustly persecutied maiden.

“On the subject of being new to all this, I am rather curious about how your job works. Kat told me a little on the way over, but there is still much I don’t understand. If you would, I would love to hear more from you. It would be a great help for us to know how to be good neighbors, for as long as we are here.”

“You see. We had not touched down for five minutes before someone cut our ship in half. (On accident, of course. I understand this sort of thing happens.) But it does make me wonder. If one person can do that, and Princesses can do quite a bit more, how do you do your job? Suppose if - Qiu, was it? - what if Qiu disagrees with you, or is rather put out by one of your orders, or simply resents you, and refuses to fully cooperate. What happens then?”

Dyssia watches the dancers from beneath her tree--not so close as to intrude or be, gasp, eavesdropping--but close enough to watch the shimmer of rhinestones and the flash of shoes as the dancers--

Normally during a dressing-down like this, she'd use words like cower, or maybe glower, which has a fantastic mouthfeel for such a mean word. But the dancers aren't, right? Aren't even looking at Yin, or stopping in their dance, even as the world sucks in the not-noise vacuum of so many ears listening at once.

Usedtawas, huh? Yin seems… not unbothered, definitely. Nobody waving their arms that emphatically is 'unbothered.' But also not bothered about being a usedtawas captital-P Princess? Dyssia hasn't even given up being a knight yet, and the thought of giving up that part of herself makes her stomach drop.

But Yin has just… moved on. Found a new thing to do? Just like that? Found people who listen to her, not for her position or her species, regardless of what she does or who she does it for?

She watches the ker-lean, and is dizzied by the whirl and jeté and lunge and plunge of dancers breakneckedly never quite colliding.

She's swaying, some internal proprioception informs her--listening to music that does not exist, feeling the pulsing rhythm of step-and-two-and-stepstepstep-twirl--until her entire body is moving in tune, and when a snakegirl sways, she stays swayed.

She's not eavesdropping, honest, but she is hovering--closer and closer, until she's almost swaying against the same tree, feeling the urge to join, not having the words to ask, and looking for all the world like a dog staring at a treat.

"May I… May I learn your dance?"

Dolce!

"That is the first and final problem of every government," said the Supreme Ruler of Earth. "What system of laws can endure a citizenry determined to destroy it? How can an Emperor's legacy survive a wicked heir? How can the dead force the living to be virtuous?"

She sipped her tea. Grimaced a little. But she took a breath, and the feeling passed.

"The problem is, always was, and always has been human nature. That is why our first act was to change it." She smiled a little. "Fortunately, we had several great teachers, and a starting population that had self selected for inner peace and nongrasping. We formed a maze of monastic centers and encourage those inclined to continuous movement to walk our winding paths. One of those paths passes through Jupiter, which you saw. The world we have built is a series of filters and mazes, a crucible that selects for kindness, empathy, contentment and joy."

She opened a palm expressively. "To maintain it, we have sacrificed the virtues of privacy, property and autonomy. Every citizen is surveilled. Every citizen is subject to the complete upheaval of their life if we so will it. If we observe a citizen spending days at a time inside, brooding in the dark, we dispatch an agent to deal with it. We will assign this person a roommate, or an adventure, or a nemesis. We will kick down their door and drag them to a mountaintop monastery or a foreign land. We will break or reassign all of their possessions to teach them that all things are transitory. If they object, they may curse us, and we will bear it. If they truly object, they can climb the mountain and join our ranks - but this is simply another maze." She chuckled. "Oh, the wrath in my heart when I seized this crown! I could do better! And I did! But they have such a way of making you appreciate the scale of the problem."

She leaned back in her chair thoughtfully. "We pay a lot of attention to the Princesses, because they are militarily relevant, but the emotional intensity of their game always burns out and settles down once it has had its fill. The truest weak point for our society is the Ministry of Curses, but the recruitment for that is extremely exacting - all of its members need to have tasted failure absolute, hit rock bottom, and pulled themselves out. Beyond that, we have mazes besides... there are those who obsess over failure points in our system and climb the mountain, then spend their years designing new mazes to be used in certain hypothetical situations. How would we react if a demagogue was to arise? How would we react if a population boom created new scarcities? If we had to accept refugees from outside our system? If the ecology collapsed? We have monasteries ready for sins that have not even been developed yet. We try our best. But in the end..."

She smiled. "All things pass. And that's it, isn't it? We can not and will not endure forever, and in time even this little garden will fail and die. We cannot even say that what comes after will not be better. We cannot grasp infinity, and we would damn ourselves if we tried. The best defense, then, that we can offer against our heirs and usurpers and children is to teach them that same lesson before we pass power on to them."

Ok this? This is entrapment. Fox Entrapment! The exact opposite of Fox Enrichment, which is what we're here for, Dolce! If that is your real name! Which I very much suspect that it is! Ha! Huh! Nyeh! Bleh!

And Ha! a second time. Jerk.

What's the world even coming to these days? What ever happened to honor among floofs? To think that an innocent foxgirl should live to be hoisted upon her own Duper! Because what is Kat supposed to do in this situation? We're so far off script here it isn't even funny! But that one miserable little rassin' frassin' sheepy beepin' comment about p a t i e n c e and everything is suddenly a referadoodad on whether or not she can stay quiet and wait her turn! What other choice does she even have?! Risk not being called a super duper good girl????

Even worse, what had been a simple sheepnapping (kidsheeping? No, no, that's surely something different) has turned into one of those Spooky Space Conversations about infinity and the lathe of justice and blah blah blah yip yippy arf. This is bad news for our heroine and no mistake! What if that was his Giant Space Crab Battle Goddess and now he's out for revenge?

Oh nyo!

Ok, ok, let's not panic. Everybody knows the crab got got, but nobody saw the face of the beautiful, graceful, charming, and altogether wonderful heroine who did it. It could've been anyone! Maybe it was Ivar the Boneless, yeah! She seems like the type doesn't she? Ok then. Ok. So all a good girl has to do is breathe (through her nose, ok?) and sit just sooooooo sweetly and listen to the boring people do their boring talk about absolute power and the obligations of the strong and the wise or... whatever this is.

But, well. Good Girl is as Good Girl does. And a Super Duper Good Girl is more than patient. She listens for realsies. She even tries her best to understand what she's listening to. And there's something about what this crazy old lady is saying that clicks inside little Kat's brain, and something about the Clearly Evil Space Sheep that makes her want to help him. Ha. At the end of the day she's a pretty sorry excuse for a foxgirl, isn't she?

"Oh, yeah, totally," she supplies in her Most Helpful Voice, "That really reminds me of the any% run in Azure Drive Voltblade Connect: Pretty Hearts."

She swallows daintily but nervously as she endures a pair of very blank stares.

"Er. Y-y'know, the... the speedrun? Wh-where you play as the, um, pretty blonde girl in a trench coat? And, and there's magical idols and stuff? And they, and they, and they... sing... songs and... look whatever it's just like that! It is! It's the same as the Luxcalibur route! 'Cause, like, it's intuitive to skip it right? You have to do all of this long, slow quest stuff to unlock it. So obviously it'd be faster to skip it right? When I got my PB I even posted my comment with it as colon three! Colon three! That's how confident I felt! But then someone found out that if you tap down on one specific frame during its attack animation the Luxcalibur blade actually does a triple hit? So even though it costs so much time to pick up, if you were clever about routing and good at the special attack you'd actually... y'know, be faster.

"A-and that's. Erm. In-impermanence and. Y'know. Stuff. And not, like, clinging to old... um. Nev, never mind."

...This is why I told you this place is evil, Mister.

(One. Two. Three. Now.)

*****

One. Two. Three. Now.

It is very tempting to believe that your story belongs to you. After all, isn't it your story? Yours goes here, Dolce's goes up there, Redana's is down a little ways. I don't even know what to say about Bella. But that's how it feels, y'know? Isn't that how it's always felt? One, two, three, four, occasionally five or six threads all stretched out next to each other. Close maybe, but definitive and separate.

But Dyssia... that just isn't true. Every story belongs to a bigger whole. Even if your entire journey took place in a tunnel sized just for you, even if I put a collar around your neck so heavy that all you could do for the rest of your life was stare at your own belly button, no matter what you'd still be connected. To your friends, certainly. Their tunnels are all kissing the edge of yours. They twist and tangle together and dump you on top of one another. Other eyes are staring at that cute tummy of yours, even if you don't notice.

Dekal's story (remember her?) is your story. Your story is Dekal's story. You're actually just a bit player in little Brightberry's masterpiece, bein' honest. Your shadow is cast over an enormous chunk of Bella's road. And it goes further than that. These were stories that began in the underworld. These were stories that began here, at the end of a years long journey. Of course they were! It is, after all, the same story in the end.

And now your story is Yin's, too. She would disagree with you about whose role is larger. Maybe that surprises you. I don't know. I'll keep asking until I learn.

Even absent the power of a sunshard, Yin's aura has not diminished. She leans against that tree and watches you with eyes so sharp it's a wonder they don't cut you. Actually, it takes you a moment to correct yourself: she did cut you. Without a blade, without even a sweep of her empty hand, she has sliced you very nearly in half and exposed your heart to the world.

You do not bleed, of course. This isn't that kind've wound. In fact it doesn't hurt at all, because this is a wound that lets stuff in as opposed to out. That's how you realize that you have not been dancing to music that doesn't exist. That's just silly. No, you've been dancing to music that hadn't been for you. But now it's leaking into you layer by layer: the heavy drum beat going dum dum DUM dum dum dum DUM dum. The flute that whistles overtop of that, and the strings that sing so madly they almost feel like the howling of animals. The chorus in a language you do not know but which most be words pouring over the whole composition like rain and seeping into every musical crack.

Now you dance, Dyssia. Now you dance for real. You touch the ground so that your swaying has meaning. So that you can leap. Yin's dancers shift formation again, surrounding you and diving at you from all sorts of angles but never doing more than expertly, teasingly brushing against your skin. A fingertip here, the kiss of a hip there. It is very much the same sort of feeling as going to war, except that it leaves your body feeling fuller and fuller instead of emptier. Your heart hammers inside your chest, your senses are overwhelmed by sound and even light, your body vents heat as hard as it can, and you do not stop moving. Ever.

In a way it is really more like flying than the grav-rail. Probably anyway. Not like I've taken one of those for a spin (or like I'd even know how). With gravity exerting her terrible pull on you, there's so many sensations of movement that have your appreciating your sudden freedom from it when you lunge, roll, and leap properly as the choreography demands. You too drift in and out of the range of other dancers. You too have the opportunity to reach out and touch a pretty girl as you pass. Y'know, if you've got the mind to.

This continues for a full three quarters of an hour without any pause. The music ebbs sometimes but it never ceases, and always crashes down even harder than before in an even greater crescendo. Yin never takes her eyes off of you. Until finally she blinks, and all at once there is silence except for the sounds of breathless laughter and students too worn out for even that dropping to the ground to reach for desperately needed bottles of water. The air around you radiates Contentment. Yin does not smile.

"Not terrible," she offers (you'd think her voice would be as intense as the rest of her, but while she's not yelling it's actually quite soft and lyrical like), "Who's your referral?"

*****

"One. Two. Three. Now."

"One. Two. Three. Nnnoowww."

"What in Hera's name are you doing?"

Yue follows through on her lunge, turning her sword in the air as though trying to slice something in reaction, even though there's nothing there to cut. Her blade whistles in the windless woods, and she hops lightly out of her stance and sheathes it after only two attempts to line it up right.

"Oh, y'know. Just cleaning up a bit. Making sure everything connected so it'll fit together better tomorrow. It's good practice: it's a variation on a technique Princess Qiu used on me when I first met her. But her way doesn't suit me much so I've been playing around with it ever since. It's not like we can go anywhere til your wife gets back, right?"

She follows Bella's gaze up to the bend in the trees and smiles. This is the third time Redana's shot off in front like this, and it makes the whole walk longer because of course she doesn't know where she's going. Not even what she's looking for. But neither of the other two really seem to mind it. It's amazing to Yue, to see someone who has lived a life full of more adventures than she can contemplate still be so hungry for more that she has to make new ones out of a cool rock she thought she saw or a patch of flowers that's not quite the same as the last one. It's just... nice, to see someone love your home so much.

For Bella it is much simpler. This woman with such wanderlust is who she loves. She has already paid her dues and fought to master herself and come at last to a place that understands what 'I love you' really means. And now that she's here, Redana can go anywhere. As much as she likes. Because Bella already knows she'll come back.

"I will follow forever
My Darling, My Darling
Lead the way and I’ll follow
Because that makes me yours

Just a night’s ride behind you
My Darling, My Darling
We’ll be this close forever
To swear that I’m yours

Till the day my feet fail me
My Darling, My Darling
Till they grow weak and fail me
I will make myself yours

I will love you forever
So keep me, my darling
Please carry me with you
My Darling, My Moon"

Yue blushes. She hadn't meant to sing but watching the scene had just pulled Sis' old lyrics right out of her brain and then what else could she do? She's not very good. She hopes nobody minds. Without waiting for her company for once she scampers on ahead to collect herself, and since Bella has that weird super sniffer that can smell anything for miles, that's enough of a trail to be getting on with.

It is the dead of night when you catch up to her, the both of you. Yue is standing on a stone walkway with her many, many swords arranged in a circle around her. She is lit entirely in moonlight, and surrounded by the sounds of rushing water. It cascades endlessly from pipes at the top of this huge stone structure, pooling in channels that form beautiful patterns spreading out and around the walkway and a large, weather worn statue of a woman standing above everything.

Wearing a dress that even smoothed over by time, looks a lot like Yue's. With a sword planted imperiously at her feet that looks a lot like Yue's, too. The girl bows serenely to the stone woman, and stoops to fetch something out of her day bag. A bottle of wine, and four cups. She pours them all carefully in turn. The first, she sets at the statue's feet. The next two she hands to her guests with a quiet smile. The fourth she holds herself, glancing down at it but waiting to bring it to her lips until she's sure she'll be the last one to try it.

"What do you think? Isn't it beautiful here? This is where I got my very fir... well second actually come to think of it but still! It's where I swung a real sword, and I was just, oh gosh I couldn't think of a better place to have a duel if I tried. And tonight a full moon and everything, eeeeeee! It's so romantic! I wish we could clash blades over a beautiful maiden's heart or somethin', then it'd be worth a story I bet. But I guess we're all taken, huh? Hahahaha!

"Well, uh, anyway. Hey Dany could you do me a favor? When you're ready would you mind pickin' out a sword for me? I've been tryin' to figure out a handicap to give Bels here and I figure if her very own wife gets to choose her opponent's style that's a pretty neat one right? Oh and I'll only fight with one hand of course, so feel free to use that against me too!"

Bella sniffs at her wine and sets it on a nearby rock without drinking a drop. In the moonlight, her blue-black hair seems like something out of a fairy tail. Her whole body glimmers: powerful and more beautiful than anything in the universe. She squeezes a fist shut and sneers. Her fangs flash like daggers in the pale light.

"You keep talking shit like this and I'm going to beat your ass so hard you won't be able to walk anymore. And the gods as my witness I will be justified. Redana, give her something good. I want to laugh in her smug little face when I snap it in half."

"Ohohooooo! Well I can't wait to see you try it, cutie! <3"

Redana walks among swords.

On Tellus, she could have any sword she wanted! Say the word, o princess, and a sword shall be provided exactly to your specifications! In practice what this meant is that she tended towards a small selection of comfort swords that she knew she liked. Even the princess who yearned to see the stars could suffer choice paralysis, after all.

But here, in the moonlight, surrounded by the sounds of water flowing, crashing, roaring, she has exactly the right amount of choices. Pick out the perfect weapon for Yue the Sun Farmer.

She comes first to the familiar, the one she would pull out if she was fighting in this duel: a slender rapier with a labyrinth for a guard, long and sharp-tipped and perfect for zoning. Bella’s had experience fighting against rapiers, and Yue’s fluid style wouldn’t mesh well with the precision required… but that’s exactly why she shouldn’t pick it out. Bella wants a challenge. She’d know that her wife had tried to stack the deck in her favor and would be incensed about it.

So no rapier. And no to the beautiful flamberge. (Named after fire, but all she can think when she looks at the blade are waves crashing on the shore, rolling in onto her feet on the beaches of Ridenki. No to the twin pair of swords shaped like fishhooks— that looks like it would just be frustrating to fight. No to the giant iron club with a bunch of studs— does that really count as a sword?

Some she draws from the earth and swings with an appraising eye: the sabers, the scimitars, the cutlasses. She imagines herself whirling, whirling, in Ceronian silks and furs, before belatedly remembering that she’s supposed to be looking for a weapon for Yue. If Yue tried that, she’d get all tangled up and discombobulated, probably!

Then she comes to the sword.

The oversized hilt is bound in leather and still warm to the touch in the cool air. The pommel, tarnished gold, comparatively large, is intricately carved with… not dolphins. Toothed whales. Sharks. A narwhal. There is barely any crossguard. The blade is long and straight, wide-fullered, tapering to a wide point. Much heavier than it looks.

The blade has swirls where once there was color. Scratches on the metal which once had meaning.

She swings it to test the balance and tastes salt on her lips. Smoke on the air. A yearning for the fight. It’s not Ceronian in style, but the Silver Divers know a comrade-in-arms when they pick them up and manhandle them.

“It’s this one,” she says, her voice breaking a little. The hilt feels warmer. Just her body temperature, surely. She takes it by the blade to offer it to Yue—

And no matter how carefully Yue takes it, Redana will hiss and jerk her hand back, bleeding from the line scored down her palm.

Blood will drip from her fingers into the water.

It's madness. And yet, at the same time--

Is it normal to find out, in such quick succession, that everything you've done your whole life is wrong?

She's danced before--felt the pounding of the drums in survival, in the pulse of blood, every muscle singing with the desire to live, to protect, to shield, to see tomorrow, to make sure that those with her do too, in the thrill of get and don't get got.

And she's danced, again, on the strings of the madgod's puppetry, able to do nothing but watch from the inside--

No, no, that's the wrong way to think. To watch from the outside, afterwards, sore and bloodied, and wonder at how everything had made sense before she woke up. To watch someone else pilot her, even while exerting the barest pressure on the threads.

Now she's dancing, and--

It's like waking from a full night's sleep after living purely on caffeine and all-nighters.

So when the music stops, it's all she can do to stop in her movement--every muscle sings that there's more, there has to be more, this is everything, this is all, and--

Not terrible? Not terrible feels like the highest praise, like every part of her is lit with fire, and not a small part of her is wondering how it would feel to get a "good girl" from that voice. It'd have to be orgasmic, right? Worth the--

Wait. Um. Referral?

"I. Um. I got a text on Tianic's phone, and, um--"

She's fighting hard to keep a straight face, but the practiced Not-A-Princess can easily see the panic welling up behind the eyes.

Oh, Katherine Isabella Fluffybiscuits. If only you knew the depths of your own schemes. How cunning, how clever, for a foxgirl to concoct a plot so deep and tricksy that even she didn’t know what she was doing? How could one even do that?

But this is precisely why your blow strikes true upon the Clearly Evil Space Sheep.

Time. He needs time. He needs time desperately. There isn’t hardly enough. It’s different. He forgot. He’s the only one here. He’s not keeping busy in the corner. He’s not watching from the corner. But the information floods in all the same. Observe. Jupiter. Their handiwork. Autonomy. Privacy. Assignments. Curses. Mazes. Mazes. Mazes in mazes. Force. Jupiter. Jupiter. They made Jupiter. They made Jupiter. Jupiter.

Think.

Directions. Mazes lead somewhere. Designed to lead somewhere. Supreme Leaders, plural. Designing mazes. Do they agree where they go? What happens when they disagree? No. Mazes, again. They don’t mind failing. How are curses worked? Kindness? Empathy? Contentment? Joy? Loose terms. Can mean many things. Defined by who? To what end? But, no, better definitions can survive. She did better. What did she change? Does she keep her name? Is that fair? They could change that too though. They could try. Supreme Leaders. Curses. Selecting. Where does it go? Where are the people going? Why make people like this? Why? Where? For what?

No waiting.

Your answer, if you please.

And then. And then! Oh miracle of miracles, you are giving him that time. He recognizes the opportunity at once. He believes it, at once. It is real. There is a chance. He can wait, a little. Listen, only a little.

But no. You do not give him time.

You give him an insufficient explanation of a novel form of drama, a sort of Jupiter, but done for fun, and for performance. You give him a glimpse of swords that cause the stage to come to life and attack, or act in a way that everyone knows is an attack, technology he has no context to imagine. You give him a revelation. Subtle and ingenious. A miracle that was right under his nose all his life, and he never thought to see it: A colon three does look a little like a smiling face. But most of all? Most devious and wicked of all?

You give him what can only be an earnest attempt to help.

The last potential enemy he had in this room is no more. It can only, only be his fault.

Time. He has no time.

Your answer, if you please.

“Ah. Well. Yes.” He is not pushing on the ropes he is not pushing on the ropes he is not pushing on the ropes he is not pushing on the ropes he is not pushing on the ropes he is not pushing “That does not. Quite. Answer the question.” It does. It will. Stupid. Obvious. “Especially as it regards to, us, and, what may happen to, if someone should disobey.” Threat. It sounds like a threat. Cannot take it back. Explaining makes it worse. Say nothing. Frown. Frown. He can frown. It troubles him. It’s not a threat. He doesn’t want it.

He doesn’t want this.

"...Tianic? Tianic?! Are you serious? Why the hell would Tianic--"

Yin cuts herself off to watch her other students, who have correctly concluded from their instructor's posture that the lesson for today is finished. And thank goodness! They're all tired and hungry, and nothing really feels better than the meal you get after a good workout like this. Right? That's right, isn't it? That's so right!

They break apart into smaller clusters, gossiping about this and that and really nothing at all as they wander away without a 'thank you' or a bow or any sign of gratitude or acknowledgment at all. The Once Upon a Princess stares darkly at her retreating backs and clears her throat.

"Baths."

This is not a request. And Yin does not shout. In fact she barely more than whispers the word. And nobody even pauses in their little conversations. It's kind of weird, right? This feeling? Does it surprise you how little they seem to respect you? Does it? Is this finally the moment where you tell me yes? Or do I have to keep repeating myself?

The groups cluster together again without coordinating. The paths they tread all converge into a single cluster again, and their steps all lead in a direction they hadn't been traveling before. You know, without asking, that they're on their way to wash off. That meal'll feel better after a good soak. Y'know? Maybe a teeny nap. Take a good long minute to really feel the fatigue in those muscles before indulging. They disappear over a hill and now it's just the pair of you.

Yin turns her back to you. She is beautiful and passionate, and ohhhhhh. Goodness goshies. She is strong. Her light it radiant and in this exact moment she is denying it to you, pulling you around to seek it out again. But whether you're scared or just turned out, whether your panic compels you to seek reassurance or your self confidence pushes you to slink away or your indignation just kinda makes you want to punch her for being like this, she turns around again all on her own before you can move.

She illuminates nothing. She is just a girl after all. And you can tell just from the look in her eyes how much effort it takes to make that be true. Princess Yin, it used to go. Princess Yin. Silent screams above the din.

If it was cool to smoke a cigarette, this is the moment she would do it. But Yin doesn't befoul her lips with anything, not even a lollipop. She just sighs, and you have to imagine the smoke for yourself.

"I know whose strings you're caught up in, for the record."

*****

Yue takes the sword and slings it carelessly across her back. What holds it there is a mystery I leave to you to ponder. She turns away and scrambles over to her bag, which she starts rooting around inside of.

"Hey now, these aren't toys. You've gotta be careful with a blade, y'know?"

Her smile is warm as she approaches Dany. She unspools a roll of clean linen and dips a mess of herbs into the waters of the shrine. Then she carefully smears the mixture across the cut on that perfect hand and wraps her bandages tight. It's not expert care by any means, it's too tight by half for one, but it's still a little surprising how instantly the whole thing starts to feel better once she's finished. Especially when she takes that hand and lifts it to her lips to kiss the spot where her blade bit in.

You've got amazing bodies that can heal from just about anything with nothing but a little sleep and some weird food. This is something different. I'm not so arrogant as to say it's better, but it's warm and soft and tastes nothing like being force fed nanite capsules for your own good. Moreover it's important to Yue even if it's not important to you. She gives Redana one more little squeeze and then pushes herself back up off of her knees to look at Bella, who is staring at the scene dumbfounded.

"Sorry for the wait. You ready?"

Yue steps back into her circle of weapons and sticks her toes under that heavy iron, studded club. This is called a 'kanebo', by the way. It's a weapon that's really best suited to demons and stuff that reminds you of them. She lifts her knee into the air and her foot kicks it up into the air so that it floats in a lazy arc where Bella can easily catch it. She offers a bow to her opponent once she's properly armed, and tries her best not to spoil the moment by letting the wince show on her face from where she stubbed her toe trying to be cool. Stupid sandals. This is why true adventurers wear boots.

There is tension in the air, under the moonlight. Hesitation. Doubt. Bella snarls, and her grip around the heavy club tightens so hard the metal seems to moan.

"If you think these little displays are gonna throw me off my game, I'm going to kill you. Don't fuck with me, little girl."

"Excuse you?" Yue says through a very obvious wince, "I would never! That's the rudest thing anyone's ever said to me, oh my gosh!"

I can't compare her to lightning, or a god, or even to a beautiful ghost who loved the sword. Yue is just Yue. When she comes at Bella, leaping through the air and drawing her sword in a single smooth motion, it is not faster than the eye can follow. It isn't even, now that you look a little closer, all that smooth. Her form is plainly ridiculous. But she's coming from above Bella and that's not something anyone was expecting, and it's all the catgirl can do to raise her weapon to block in time.

You'd expect her to throw Yue off easily. To swing that mighty arm of hers with such force that the gangly awkward girl pressing down on her would sail all the way to the moon. You'd expect her to use her free hand maybe to just punch Yue in the jaw or else ram those wicked claws through her ribs, since her snarling face seems so determined to do real hurt here. But the blow is heavier than she expected. She needs both hands to keep the club steady. Her legs are actually trembling under the pressure of that silly swing, and her foot claws need to dig into the stone, which starts to crack and...

"Whoops! Let's not go breaking this place too much, if we can help it."

Yue drops back and slides across the stone. She lifts her blade up into a battle stance and has barely set her form before Bella howls and pounces on her. I think even saying 'pounces' doesn't sell it right. It's not like she goes sailing through the air like Yue, right? It's more like, one second she's standing there with her back arched and her head turned toward the moon with a scream on her lips, and in the next she's on top of Yue, bringing that club down on her with the force of a meteor.

It doesn't land. There isn't even a struggle for dominance, no crossing blades and determined faces scowling or smirking at each other. Yue simply flicks her wrist and her sword smacks away the kanebo like it was a pool noodle. Do they have pool noodles where y'all're from? I hope so. The alternative is too sad to even contemplate.

Bella's eyes turn black they've gone so wide, before melting into golden pools with trembling slivers of a cat's slit inside of them. She tries again. And again. And again. Her strikes get faster and more powerful as she goes, until she's moving quickly enough to land one from the front and the back at basically the same time. Yue's form looks lazy in comparison; all she does is pivot a little bit on her feet so that her sword is facing the kanebo. And every time: thwack, twink, thwud!

It should be impossible. It is impossible. Bella hurls the club and it rips dull whooshes through the air toward Yue's head. She ducks out of the way, just barely, and almost trips on the rapier Redana had rejected earlier. The little sword jumps up after her and knocks the kanebo out of the air before it can impale a tree. Did she... do that on purpose? She didn't, right? She basically fell on her face! That was an accident! A fluke! A total dummy maneuver! Oh, sorry. Manoeuvre. I forgot where I was for a second.

But then she kips back up and she's like flowing water crashing into Bella. Her sword cuts into the invincible armor of XIII like it was a piece of wood. And then Yue is swinging up and around the hilt of her own weapon and her foot connects with the underside of Bella's chin and she goes

*****

Woah woah woah, buddy buddy buddy! Let's not strain those poor ropes so much ok? Goshies pal I didn't realize you were under so much stress! It must've been a very hard road to come this way after all. You might be a Clearly Evil Space Sheep but those ropes are Just For Fun and this isn't...

Here, look. See? Kat reaches behind your back with just one hand, just two fingers actually, and she pulls on the knot. Because it is a Magic Knot, which is to say a Hyra Knot, which is to say a knot about teasing, tricking, and misdirection it slips loose and the whole shibari look you'd had going on turns into a coil of loose rope around your ankles. If Kat was a little bit better at this a pair of doves would have escaped from the loop carrying a ribbon between them, but unfortunately dear Fluffybiscuits takes after her mom and not her mom's girlfriend.

...Oh jeez. I just had a terrible thought. So far everything's worked out on that front 'cause Hyra and Yue aren't married right. But, but, but what if Yue ever (gasps) wins? What if she proposes and it's the most romantic thing eeeeeevvveeeeerrrrrrrrrr? Kat's already flusterpated by her relationship with the woman who raised her, can she really survive if she's suddenly got two mommies? Can a world even be ready for such a huge paradigm shift?

Oh, buddy. Dang buddy. Wow. Mister Dolce Sir, is this the kind of stuff you've got goin' on under the sheepy hood? If it's half this heavy then no wonder you look like you've got a fever right now. Poor guy.

"Y'know, I was a bad girl once."

Kat's fluffers are at maximum floofle. This is a very dangerous thing for a foxgirl to be saying. Here of all places on the earth! Especially one whose best and some would say only defense is Good Girl. She blushes and hides between her first two tails while the second to shiver behind her. When she unfurls ahead she has a juice box, which she has already poked a straw inside of.

She slurps cool, strawberry goodness with an air of Totally Awesome Badass Fox. If such a thing is possible. Yeah that's right! All the cool girls sip their little juice boxes, look it up! Nerd!!

"I didn't get a treat after. Even though I asked for it! Really says a lot about society, doesn't it?"

People disobey all the time, Dolce. It tends to sort itself out before long, like with Princesses. I mean not that Princesses sort stuff out but... well I mean kinda sometimes? It's complicated business. I'm afraid if you want an itemized list we're gonna be here all year. You really... don't trust it? Us? Do you?

That's. That's really sad. That's close to the saddest thing I've ever seen, and I once saw a kitten not get delimshus leaf. You want a juice? I've got apple!

*****

flying ten meters into the air before Yue manages to crest over the top of her arc and slams her in the stomach again with another slash from her blade. Bella tumbles gracelessly through the air and splashes down into a reflecting pool, the ripples distorting the moon in a sort of echoed chuckle. Not a mean spirited one, just a... oh, she's up.

Water drips from her hair. It glistens on her skin, lit in the gleam of the true moon. Bella plants her feet and watches Yue's descent. Her nose twitches, following the scents of fruit and spice and a teeny bit of sweat. Her tail flicks in the moment she knows the attack is coming, right when the tension in the air shifts just imperceptibly so. She flashes out of the way and in the same instant rakes her claws through the space where the sword is supposed to be cutting her.

And hits only air.

"What the--"

"You're really fast, y'know that? I didn't know anybody could move like that! You'd be great if you weren't so bad, haha!"

Bella grits her teeth in frustration and kicks water in Yue's eyes. It's not very sporting, I know, but she's an assassin at the end of the day and she does have her pride. Yue lifts her sword to block the water and that's when the next strike comes. Now that it's come to claws, Bella only ever aims at the sword. If she can smash it that's enough to prove her superiority, right? It's different from a hunt, because it's a...

She didn't hit anything. Again! Her form was perfect. Her speed was faster than Yue's eyes could possibly follow. But the girl is perched atop her wrist, sword held high behind her with a very practiced, playful posture.

"You're also too honest by half. Like, you always look at where you're trying to be, aren't you? You never deviate. Never adjust. You are..."

The sword descends. Bella raises an arm to smack it aside but it cuts through her guard like nothing.

"Very."

Yue's voice has dropped an octave. The flash in her eyes looks almost dangerous.

"Easy."

Spin around and follow through, this cut catches Bella at the hip. She yowls and stumbles and you, Redana, are rooted to the spot where you stand. No amount of love or determination can move your body. Because that is only fair. Yue has a moon. You are also a moon. And both of you will only watch the duel until it finishes.

"To read."

An eight party flurry cut follows. Yue slashes through both of Bella's wrists, her knees, up her stomach to her chest where she jabs out both shoulders, and then down again across the eye of Hermes that really should have been able to see this all coming. She whirls around again, heaving water all over and

*****

Yin's back is turned to you again, Dyssia. It doesn't feel like it did the first time. There's no magnetism or powerful sense of loss to send you spinning and scrambling to get her to show you her face again. This is simply the posture of somebody who's embarrassed and doesn't know how to show it.

"So. She buttered you up with cookies, I'm guessing? That meddling little," you can tell she wants to say 'mouse' here. But she can't. She lost that fight a long time ago, "Yue. The so-called 'most valuable thing in the world.' Wolf-addled loser is more like it. God she makes me so mad."

Yin's hair tumbles like a curtain parting before a stage when she turns her head to look at you over her shoulder. She does not smile. The sun chooses this moment to set, and its red light washes over her in a way that seems to transform her into some kind of mythical creature. For a brief moment she is reborn. And then the light hits the shattered remnants of nine other suns and the whole of your world dances under a wild aurora.

This is a place where spirits and faeries and demons all clash for the right to be called the most beautiful under the moonlight. The woman watching you could be any of the three of them. She surely intends to win... but she steps back under her tree and steeps herself in shadows, instead. What a complicated woman.

"She's worse than stupid, she's incompetent. Even after all that practice she can barely even hold a sword, let alone beat someone with it. Do not even get me started on her dancing. I have never met a woman more resistant to improvement in my entire life. Useless. You know what she is? She's the first crack in the armor. You want to just ignore it, but then..."

She sighs. In the cooling air, her breathe escapes her lips in a thin stream of mist. Oh. Oh that's so cool. Pure cinema!

"...The beginner's class is on Fridays at midnight. If you're late I'll... just... try not to be late. You only get out what you put in."

*****

Bella is on her back. There is a blade pressed not quite against her throat, the flat of it pushing her chin up just so. Yue flashes a dorky little smile at her.

And the world returns to motion.

There is no blood. You are certain you saw, smelled, felt, tasted it. Yue sliced Bella with that same palm-ruining blade so many times and with such force that it broke the armor made from her own bones, even though it... didn't? Bella is whole and unharmed, except for the fact that she lost quite badly.

Are you wondering why?

"Do you understand yet?"

"Understand? I... what... what the fuck was that?"

Yue giggles, half delighted and half cringe. She pulls her sword away and flips it over her back again. This time, instead of sticking in place by strange magic it just tumbles past her and clatters to the ground. Her laugh turns all the way to cringe, and she coughs so hard she chokes.

"That. Ahem. That was the. Er. Y'know. The... my, uh. Secret Sword."

Oh nuts to it, I'll just tell you. The Wandering Tales of Yue the Sun Farmer! The Seventh Secret Sword: The Nature of the Duel.

And you, Bella and Redana, fell into its trap the instant you set foot into this shrine.

Dolce!

The Supreme Ruler watched Dolce carefully while Katherine was speaking. She left a long moment after that, time enough to think - but not an unlimited amount.

"You want to know if we have built an utopia," said the Supreme Ruler. "And the answer is no. We are not pacifists or anarchists. We are running a state. We hold within our hands the full range of state powers, including execution, conscription and the freedom to wage wars of aggression. We punish dissent, censor speech, control technology and seal particularly wicked foxgirls underneath bridges. We have no bill of rights or constitution to tie our hands and no rhetoric to justify our actions that has not come from the mouths of a thousand governments before ours. I personally hold more power than countless autocrats and dictators throughout history. Our system of government has no special features other than - as Ms. Fluffybiscuits has so astutely observed - a corrected set of incentives."

She looked down at the sword that Katherine wore. She was wearing a sword, didn't you notice? This good, soft, silly girl was armed. Armed with - if the Plousios' fate was any guide - a terrifyingly deadly weapon. One that could destroy this house and the hill it stood upon.

... why didn't you notice?

"But neither," said the Supreme Ruler of Earth. "Have we invented a sword that cuts only the wicked. If our world stands, it stands by our people's wisdom alone. What would we do if someone disobeys? Well, it depends - doesn't it? It depends on everything, which depends on everything else. And as everything is ever changing so is what we would do. So I cannot answer your hypothetical - all I can do is invite you to experience everything we have done."

Turning into a girl feels like the greatest magic of them all.

You have to understand. You have to understand. She has--

Everything she's ever known since the day of her birth has been… not extravagant, though it was that? Wrong word. Extra… Extraordinary, that's the word. A barrage of perfect beauty to overwhelm the senses, leave you insensate. The strings of satisfaction, satiation, an end to craving, all wrapped in the form of enough beauty to never end.

And yet, here, as the sun sets around them and the world blooms with oranges and yellows, her eyes can only follow the girl into the shadows under the trees. Follow her out of the realm of spirits, and into the mundane.

"You get out what you put in."

The words are quiet, not quite whispered, more to herself than anything else.

"You know, there's a workshop on a planet somewhere--

"Well, there isn't anymore, not after the Pix crated it up and loaded it into a ship, and it's gone twice now thanks to some asshole birds (remind me to tell you about the birds) and also because the ship the workshop was on got cut in half--"

She swallows, bites off the thought, and laughs at herself.

"Sorry, I had a point in that tangent somewhere. I've left behind more hobbies and forgotten more habits than cigarette butts behind a smoker. But this feels like--"

The words fade.

This feels like something different. Something new. Something that's finally more than just… something to fill the days.

"…Thank you," she finishes.

For the opportunity, she doesn't say. For not being Princess Yin.

For showing her that she, too, can be just a girl. Not a knight. Not a legendary hero, the stuff of myths. Not the dissident, not the distracted.

Just Dyssia, which seems like the most magical thing of all.

Redana's thoughts trail after her like a banner snapping in the wind, unable to keep up with her. Her sword flashes in the moonlight.

Most of these thoughts, the faster ones, are screaming about Bella and how thorough, how calculated, how ruthless the dismembering strikes were, peeling Bella apart with the same horrifically casual grace with which she bisected the Plousios and how could you, Yue, how could you offer hospitality and have a house with windchimes and sheep blissfully gathering sunlight out on the fields and still strike Bella down with all the placidity of a, of a lake, of a fish, of a third placid thing, she'll make what happened when she was ridden by Dionysus on the Plousios look like a funny little temper tantrum compared to what she's going to do here to avenge her wife and

Some of the slower thoughts make a desperate jump onto Redana's back and start screaming that Bella does not look dismembered actually and also that they're chatting and Yue is laughing in a way that is deeply similar to how Redana laughs and Bella's lifting her head and oh Olympians on high she's mid-swing at an unarmed opponent and

Redana makes a wild swing which comes nowhere near Yue, as a result of swinging herself off balance at the last second, and her sword leaves her hands (yes, even with the bandage) at the apex of the arc and goes swinging off into the water with a splash as she tumbles down onto her knees and pulls Bella's upper half into her arms and sobs in a way that is not particularly dignified at all. She should have good words, words worthy to the moment, but it's honestly mostly blubbering.

She thought she was done with this, see. Done with seeing Bella be torn apart. Murdered. Butchered. She clings to Bella like a blanket. This is likely not doing Bella's wounded pride any favors, but surely she must feel the tension in Redana's arms, the way she holds Bella like something, someone, more precious than diamonds, and the big sniffling shakes of her shoulders.

There's really no coming back from making your wife cry, is there?

That’s not

Doesn’t

He didn’t

No, she

He did

He didn’t

Assumed, she wasn’t

Too late

Why didn’t he

What else did he

Too late

Listen

Ropes, wasn’t

He wasn’t

He can’t

Why

No

Stop

Stop

Wrong

Wrong

Wrong

Wrong

Wrong.

He watches his reflection in the tea. There is no more steam to obscure it.

“I understand.” The chair does not budge as he rises. The ropes lie where they fall. “Thank you for your time. I will not take up any more of it.” A soft smile. A polite bow. Not too big. Not too deep. “If there are any problems, please let me know. Send word to Dolce; it will get to me.”

He turns. One. Two. Three. He steps. One. Two. Three. He opens the door. One. He steps outside. Two. He closes it. He holds the handle. He turns. He turns. He turns the latch closed. Three.

Run

He walks the path back to the woods.

One.

Two.

Three.

"It's ok. Redana, I'm fine. Look, she didn't even touch me! I'm fine! I'm fine, I'm fine damn it, I'm..."

But words have always been powerless against tears like that. Reality is often meaningless against fear like that. Against love like that. All Bella can really do is wrap her strong, healthy arms around her wife and hold her close until the wracking sobs burn down to quiet hiccups and undignified sniffles, and then until the sniffles melt into soft breathing under the moonlight, and then a while longer after that.

She is here. She is alive. She is only a little bit humiliated, and that's hardly anything new for her. Is it?

Yue is silent throughout it all. Part of the time she spends standing there, equal parts awkward and miserable. Then she gets it in her head to go and retrieve that sword that went flying all kersploosh into the water. Then she fusses with all of the various weapons she brought and arranges them in a nice, neat line. Then a circle again. Then a line. She glances over occasionally. Then a circle. She purses her lips and leaves the swords where they are so she can go fishing around in her bag.

She pulls out a stone jug and several little saucer shaped cups. And then she waits. The sound of the jar, 'foomp' unstoppering and restoppering cuts the ambience no fewer than four times each. Finally she pours and offers a cup of fragrant, clear liquid to each of her guests.

"Well gosh, I really screwed up there didn't I? That's so typical. I'm really sorry for spooking you."

Bella says nothing. With one arm still wrapped around Redana, she lifts her little cup and drains it in a single smooth motion. She tilts her head and licks her lips.

"This wine?"

"Uh. Kinda, yeah. Did you... want more?"

A nod, a pour, a sip, a sigh. Yue sits down on a rock and stares up at the moon.

"I'm really sorry. I sure went and put my foot in it, huh? Are you two ok?"

"I SAID I'M... nnnn. Yes. We are. Sorry, we've... it's... never mind. Just tell me what happened, please. I've never felt anything like that before in my life."

But Yue is quiet for a good while longer. All she does is sit quietly and stare at the moon, making occasional furtive glances toward Redana. It's only when Dany finally settles enough to try her own sake that she finally lets herself relax enough to open her mouth again. She brushes her hands through her hair in a nervous little display of, uh, nervousness I guess. She tries to smile, but it falters.

"I had it in my head that if you felt it, you'd just know. Man. The worst part of any anime is when somebody's gotta explain the magic system. I guess I needed Kat for this after all. She could have stood here and given commentary and then we wouldn't be in this mess. But here we are! In this mess. Right. Uh. Where to begin?"

"You can start by letting my know what a 'secret sword' is." says Bella in between sips of sake.

Yue pours her own, rather overflowing cup before sliding the jug over to the married couple. She stares at her reflection in the liquid and then drains the whole thing in one go, with only minor squeaking and sputtering in the aftermath. Her smile is a little lopsided, but it's there now.

"A Secret Sword is, hm. I guess you could call it the culmination of a swordperson's journey? Truths of the heart and blade and stuff, y'know? They're ultimate techniques, ways of cutting stuff that you wouldn't think could get cut unless you practice."

"And that's how you defeated me?"

"Heeheehee! You're really cute, I'm glad you're not mad. No, that's not how I beat you. Beating you's not that hard that it'd require a super move. Either of you, really. Or both! It's a bit like beating a little kid at a cart racer. Or, like, peeling a carrot I guess? There's no technique required because you pretty much can't fight back."

Bella snarls, but she is quiet for a moment. She's been in a lot of fights in her life, but they've all been horrible bloody knock down, drag out attrition fests. She's never danced with anyone, never understood why Artemis valued her so little until this exact moment. But pride isn't something you can just swallow up and forget inside of a single evening. She drains her cup and rallies.

"I know I'm stronger than you." she says.

"Oh yeah," Yue agrees with a smile, "Tons! You've been so much help around the house carrying all that stuff for me. Thanks!"

"I'm faster, too."

"Yeppers! What's this got to do with winning, though?"

"Everything!" snaps Bella, but in the moonlit blank stare that follows, she falters. "...Doesn't it?"

"Eh, a little. But you don't have any Qi, so like... oh. You probably have another word for it, huh? Or do you? Uh, lemme see... mana? Magical energy? Spiritual pressure? What else, what else? Oh, uh! Uh, uh, uh... aura! Right? That must ring a bell!"

"What the f-"

"Okokokokokokok ok ok ok ok nope right yup yuppy yuppers no that's a no that's ok we'll just move on! I dunno how to explain this though, especially to someone so... raw? Like, you just don't have any spirit at all. It's like you're from the void or somethin'. Lots of power, but it's all, like, external and graspy? I'm not even sure where it comes from, but whatever it is it makes you real weak in a fight.

"See, like, in a Princess Duel it'd be way normal to see them, like, parry an attack by cutting the idea of the attack, or pushing out a bit of Qi so that a deep cut turns into a little nick or just, well if you ever see Qiu fight you'll understand in a heartbeat. But when you guys attack it's just kinda, like, rawr~! Playfightin' with sticks, y'know? That you were even surprised I could cut a ship in half says a lot about your level of experience. Not that there's anything wrong with that! No shame at all in bein' a beginner, right? I'd be the last person on earth who'd have any room to criticize you on that point. But just, you seem like you want to be in a lot of fights. Like you've been in a ton of 'em. And to me that just seems really scary. You could get hurt."

More silence covers the shrine. Which is a little weird and more than a little bit sad, because with drink as nice as everybody's got (I assume anyway, I've never touched the stuff) this really should be a moment for a song or six. But Bella just looks at Yue through those shining golden eyes of hers like she's trying to stare a crack into her armor or something, or like she could defeat this whole nonsense explanation with, well not facts and logic, but a really mean gaze.

But more than that, she's thinking. She's been on eggshells since she got here. Everything she expected, everything she was so excited to see, was all ruins and remnants of a wonderful but ultimately failed civilization. She never expected to land and find what grew out of the last seeds, right? Never mind that those seeds might have sprouted into something that surpassed her understanding of the universe.

It's very tough to suddenly be told you're a kid again. It's even tougher when you don't have any way to refute that. Most people tend to dig in their heels in a moment like that.

"Well," Bella begins carefully, "You could give me a little credit for making it this far. I might not be able to fight a master like you, but--"

"Ha, well. See. That's the thing right? I keep trying to tell you, I'm pretty bad at this myself. All of my friends are better than I am. I'm all flash and no fundamentals and even then it's like... so I told you about my Secret Sword, right? Have you figured out its effect?"

"No. Is it some kind of invocation to the gods? That might make you stronger for a bit, if that's what you're getting at."

Yue laughs with a sad expression in her eyes. In this moment she's got the chance to recite the opinion of a recent friend on the matter of gods, but she chooses not to.

"It, uh, doesn't make me stronger. Or you weaker. The duel is not about who prays to what. The duel is not about cruelty, or about kindness. The duel does not prove right or wrong. The duel is about the duel. That's The Nature of the Duel. It just... makes those things be true, so that sillyheads with no idea what they're doing can have a pure fight without it hurting anybody. Or, like, my other big move, the Sword of Validation? All that does is make it so I can push beyond my physical limits in a fight, but only until I succeed in making my opponent feel loved. Isn't that so lame? Everything else is just stupid little parlor tricks, and the heart of my swordsmanship is just... different ways of saying I love you."

See, Bella and Redana? That's what you lost to. That's what terrified you. Just this scrawny, now slightly drunk and sniffly girl. If you're willing to believe her, there are entire hosts of duelists far more skilled than she is.

*****

"You're not very good at this, are you?"

Katherine Isabella Fluffybiscuits is standing in the woods. More specifically, she is standing in the woods looking up at a tree. More specifically still, she is standing in the woods looking up at a tree with a sheep dangling from a net. She's got an expression on her face that is half deeply annoyed and half wanting to die of laughter.

See, in terms of the amount of effort she put into this particular trap? Well it, it was meant to be the decoy trap, you see. The obvious net on the ground with a tiny handful of leaves scattered across it that's soooooo obvious the prey rolls their eyes and steps around it, only to fall into the REAL, deviously clever pit trap with a soft down mattress at the bottom so nobody gets hurt. The real trap, which is so perfectly concealed that even now an onlooker would have no idea how to spot it unless they already knew where it was. And possibly even then!

And the reason why it's so perfectly concealed still is because this silly floofleboofle WALKED RIGHT INTO THE DECOY!

"You big jerk." she sniffs with fox offense. Which is like mock offense, but foxy. Nyeh heh, and stuff.

Allow me to break down the allegations against Mr. Dolce thusly: One! He is a jerk. Two! He is big! QED! He is a big jerk! Furthermore (because I don't want to count higher than two and risk breaking Fox Law), he is accused of falling for a dumb and obvious trap on purpose. Because what other reason could he have? A body that gets stuck in a net this lazy can only believe he belongs in that net. Or else I guess he's so wrapped up in his own nonsense that he literally can't see his own two feet for the trouble.

Either way, my card sir. Again. It is still a leaf, I'm sorry. My card guy is out of town. Actually I don't have a card guy. My credentials are actually a different, bigger leaf. Please don't ask to see them. I've got a good thing going as a Cutie Lawyer, you understand.

"Not a single Duper. Not one! You didn't say any of the lines we rehearsed, it's like you don't want to be a shining stage girl with me at all! What the fluff, dude?"

Kat huffs and then leaps into the air, in that order. She draws the sword she wears on her belt with a smooth, very foxy sort of surety and slices the rope suspending Dolce to that fateful tree. This does nothing to free him from his Netty Doom but does everything to put him on the ground again, where he can watch Katherine land lightly on her toes and return her blade to its sheathe without consideration for pointing it at her prisoner. She uses her finger for that, which is far more devastating.

"I tried to be nice about this, y'know. But the kiddy gloves come off now. No more Ms. Nice Fox. I'm gonna revenge you so hard your head'll spin."

She grins her Wicked Fox Grin. She pulls out her Wicked Fox Phone. And she calls for a Wicker Fox Taxi, which turns out to be a very tired but sweet looking farmer in a beat up old kei truck. Which is the story of how you, Dolce, wound up in the bed of said truck riding down the winding hills toward the Big City, while a slender and devastatingly beautiful foxgirl watches you with a cute little smirk on her lips.

What devious, awful plans could she have in store?

"So," she chirps, "You like ramen?"

*****

"...Don't mention it."

It doesn't take long for Yin to leave, after that. She's got a... well calling it a 'home' doesn't feel right, but a house at least. Somewhere she can wash herself off, put on pajamas, and sleep off the day's work like any other girl. But that doesn't really matter, at least not right this second.

I want you to understand about the sunset, Dyssia.

It is orange, and it is pink, and it is soft, melty yellows that turn the sky into a strawberries and cream painting. It permeates the clouds and turns their puffy whiteness into a study in shading and texture that is sure to set your mind ablaze. And that's wonderful enough to be getting on with, but that's not all a sunset is around here.

There were ten suns, once. Bits of them still hang out in the sky, and I'm sure you bumped into a piece or seven on your way down here. But as the one living sun passes the remains of her sisters, she shares her light with them again. And that is when sunset really begins. The flashes of green, Dyssia, so pale and ethereal they scarcely feel like they belong to the world of the living. The light stretches on and forever into space like a winding ribbon with a smaller purple ribbon wrapped around it.

It shimmers and dances, this light does. Just like you did. Just like a snake does. It doesn't swallow the pinks and oranges and yellows and cream, but it does slash across them, and wind back around them like it's trying to wrap the whole first sunset in a giant hug. It is everywhere, this portal to the world where spirits must live, and then it is gone. And when it leaves it takes the pale oranges with it, and you are left with only a shining white orb in a sea of ink.

Did you know the sky could be black? I know what you're used to, I asked. The blindingly brilliant sky, the Endless Azure one or the wild blot painting that is the untamed rest of the universe not yet brought into enlightenment. But here it is not that. Here, at night, the sky is... black. Not so terrifyingly pitch that it robs you of your vision? The kindly moon is here to watch over you, after all.

There are brilliant little dots of white peaking out of the dark. They're swallowed up by wisps of dark cloud, only to be revealed again right where you left them when the breeze carried that misty veil away. And I know you're not stupid, Dyssia. Those are stars. You've been to many of them yourself. H*ck, you've been in one, I think I've heard.

But the thing is, they're really far away now. I guess a lot of them always were, but not like this. They're so small you could pluck them all out of the sky and not even have enough harvest for a pie, it feels like. But they're also so vast and amazing and deep that it... do you know what I'm saying, Dyssia? When you see a sky like this, you know. Y'know?

There was never anything else you could be but Dyssia. Just a girl, against the sea of stars. In this moment, they feel unconquerable.

...Hey. Hey Dyssia. You wanna check out a hot springs next? Or do you have another adventure in mind?

Bella and Redana. Your reverie of sake is interrupted by the arrival of what you would think would be a servitor maid.

You’ll note first that she’s not any species that you’d recognize. Her fur and her build are not entirely dissimilar from Bella, but her ears are more rounded, her coat speckled in gray and black, and her tail is long and fluffy, long enough to trail out behind her and then still wrap around her neck. On Earth, you’d call her a snow leopard girl, but it’s possible that none of you have ever seen anything quite like that before, absent some extremely deep searches in the historical annals of Tellus.

You’ll note second that her maid’s outfit is enough to put even Bella’s most silly kitty meowmeow tea party moments to shame. She has thick puffy sleeves that floof out at the shoulders and arms with lace at the shoulders and wrists. And her apron and dress puff out even more from layers of petticoats and fabric beneath the outer layer such that the area around her waist and legs is almost like an umbrella of fabric and lace every which way. It’s a miracle she moves in it at all! Except that as she lands, she touches down with the measured control over her own body of a ballet dancer.

Actually scratch that first and second bit. What you probably saw first was that she flew into the space from high above, her form silhouetted in moonlight. And that she was riding nothing but a single slender longsword for her flight. All while also carrying a fairly substantial cake dish and wearing a moderately sized bag on her back.

Yue, you’re met by the arrival of your friend and sword instructor, the Princess Chen, who promptly lands next to you, sets down her cake dish, and catches you up in a fabric-filled hug before turning back to your new friends and their sake.

She offers a curtsy. “Hi! I’m sorry to interrupt. You see, I had this cake ready for a picnic a little while ago, but the picnic was cancelled due to the arrival of some new guests in a very large ship. And, well, this sort of strawberry layer cake isn’t going to keep forever, so I thought I’d at least deliver it from the castle of the Northern Wind. And then I sensed a qi duel with only one person out here at the shrine, which seemed really weird because I’m pretty sure Yue doesn’t have a one-person secret sword since the last time we fought. So I came out to look.”

She blushes and curtsies again, deep enough to rustle all her clothes against the ground. “Oh, I’m sorry, my mom will be so mad at me for forgetting all my Princess etiquette. My name is Princess Chen of the Inner Heart, formerly of the Northern Wind. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I hope you don’t mind me joining and bringing cake!”

For the record, what the cherry-cheeked princess of the dead and also a pack of wolf warriors was about to do, o most decorated and elegant of sword-riding princesses, was to say something important to Yue. But the gravitas of the moment was quite punctured by the arrival of one of the fabled Princesses of Gaia. She stares, and stares, and stares at a woman who reminds her of nothing so much as a birthday cake transformed by the power of her wishing heart into a person.

"I, um," she says, before bouncing up with a smile. "It is quite a pleasure to meet you," she says, with a hint of her oldest accent, that of Tellus and her mother, drawing on them for strength in the face of an unexpected new friend. "I am Princess Redana Claudius, formerly of Tellus, and I have journeyed across the universe with my wife, Bella Hostilius Mosaic, in order to deliver a message from the God of the Dead, Hades of the Thousand Vaults."

When she offers her hand, it's with some of the dashing of the runaway princess, and some of the sweetness of Bella's wife, and a wagging tail. Her eyes are still red and puffy, but her smile is real. "We'd love to join you, Chen, if Yue will have you - you're friends, aren't you? I can tell."

She'll remember the important thing she has to ask, but not now. Not later, either. When the moment's right, it will come back to her. But for now, it will be washed away in cake, and strawberries, and sake, and laughter under the moonlight, and stories of how Chen met her partner and stood up to her mommies. A Tale of the Sunshards, if you will...

These are serious accusations, Miss Fluffybiscuits.

Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps he did walk into the obvious trap on purpose. There are many lines of inquiry a legal mind of your standing could pursue. A heart that believes he belongs in a net is a fascinating theory, with no small amount of evidence to back it up. But that would require asking a distraught evil space sheep to explain why he is so horrible, and that’s just not a good look. Rookie mistake.

The far more cunning angle is that the existence of a trap meant he was still the target of your entirely justified revenge, and he thought to maintain some control over the situation by getting it over with and falling into your clutches in the easiest way possible. Just the sort of thing an evil space sheep would think to do. Except, evil space sheep aren’t known for giving away their thoughts that easily. You haven’t heard a single one of them spill the beans, which is very rude, because you’ve definitely been peckish here and there and those beans might be good snacking. What were we saying? Dunno, it must’ve been something tricky and complicated, and while you could easily unravel any trick any day of any week, you did a lot of walking today and you’re just not feeling it. (But you could! (But you don’t wanna (So there!)))

Now, play your cards right, and you might be able to sell the defense on a plea deal: He did fall into the trap on purpose, because he was so smitten with the fine craftsmanship of the real trap that he didn’t have the heart to ruin it.

Anyway, you’ve got the culprit in the back of a Wicked Fox Taxi, where he is flopped over with the kind of placid acceptance that is so like a sheep, evil or space or not. Things are happening. The world is exerting its will upon him. He’s being carried off somewhere, but things will probably sort themselves out. No need to bleat about it. Far better to lie here on the old, dented back of a Fox Taxi, and study the way the paint peels. And consider the odd question from a dangerously beautiful and fluffy foxgirl.

“Hrmm,” he hrmms. There must be a lot of thinking happening in that fluffy head of his. Or his head’s so full of fluff that the thoughts take a real real real real real long time to get anywhere. Whatever way the sheepy bumbles, he’s got no thoughts left for wiggling, or struggling, or doing anything other than sitting in a big lump as the surprisingly weighty, surprisingly soft ropes of your net nestle into his wool. Imagine the cost of that shake of his head.

“I do not know if I have even had cooked m’n.”

He does not tell you if that’s a joke. Which is yet another mark on his permanent record.

Dyssia flies up the tree, chasing the sunset.

It's not that she wants to hold onto it, you understand. It's just that the moment is so beautiful, it seems a shame not to revel in it--to ride it higher, dance in the oranges and pings and the unexpected greens. And dance she does, darting through the lights like her own ribbon of purple blue.

Gaia has fantastic trees, by the by--just the right level of roughness on her scales as she rests afterwards, woven between the branches like a windblown scarf, and surrounded by stars on all sides.

… Is it weird?

I mean… It'd be so easy to… To feel small, like this. Lonely, somehow, amidst a sea of light. To look at the endless skies--they're so dark compared to what she's used to--and feel cut off.

It is weird. But mostly because she remembers being--maybe still is, a little--the girl who wanted to see everything, touch everything, pull every lever, back when she heard stories about the outside. Who looked up at a sky full of far more than here.

And she doesn't feel--

She feels full. At peace. Connected, somehow, with everything--there are stars out there, and a girl down here, and they are the same thing.

…

What was that about a hot springs?

"Buddy, you're not even... ugh, whatever."

There was a time in Katherine Isabella Fluffybiscuits' life when she would have wasted a lot of air tryin' to yap this guy into submission. Just, lots and lots and lots (and lots!) of words to tell him that the world she lived in is beautiful and lovely and that she's sorry he can't see it. It's, like, a crime for a dude this quiet and fluffy to be basically made out of spikes, y'know?

That time has passed. She's a hero now, y'know? And a hero's job is to save the world from Clearly Evil Space Sheeps. Among other things obviously, please do not put in the paper that heroes only fight one thing or save one thing or sheep one... thing? Ok wait I'm lost. Let's start over!

Kat doesn't have a lot to say on the ride. She doesn't glower, naturally. That's a villainous act if ever there was one. Heroes try not to perform any acts synonymous with frowning (even when they're deep in thought) I've heard it said, so long as you're not quotin' me on this. But yeah. Which is to say no. Which is to say no, yeah. A Fluffybiscuits Move in this case would be to flash a dazzling smile, which in this moment is basically indistinguishable from a devious smirk.

The only way to save the world? Fox Crimes.

And so, this intrepid pair comes to a stop outside of a nearly empty building made out of nice wood that's maybe been out in the sun a little too long. The paint isn't as fresh as it would like, not if its job was exalting the glory of whatever was inside. The sign's a bit beat up too, come to think. But the door is slid all the way open.

The smells coming from inside are otherwordly. Rich, fatty, savory, salty aromas assault Dolce's nostrils with such intensity that the clouds of delicious steam almost physically lift him into the air as though they were a pie cooling on the windowsill. It takes days to develop something like this. Days of cooking, of not eating or serving but merely preparing. Discipline to rival an Azura craftsman. But this is not a holy place. No gods attend here. None would dare.

"Hey Shana, can I please get..."

"Katherine."

Across the room, beyond rows and rows of completely empty tables and on the other side of an equally empty bar, there stands a woman wearing an apron. And pants and a shirt! Obviously! Sheeeeeeeesh. She is nearly of a height with Bella, with features sharper than the knife she's using to cut radishes on the countertop.

"We have been over this. I will not allow you to use my shop as a staging ground for your or Cyanis' ridiculous schemes. I have been party to more than enough farcical delusions to last me a lifetime."

"It's, uh, pronounced 'foxgirl' actually."

"ENOUGH!"

The woman named Shana slams her hand on the counter and fixes Kat with a glare that could wilt flowers. This is all the more impressive considering her eyes are completely covered by a crimson blindfold. Her lips, currently pulled into a scowl, are painted an absolutely toxic shade of purple. Her hair is blacker than blindness and set in six perfect loops like wings spreading behind her head that have each been speared by a gold-and-ruby hair stick. She is royalty. Or an assassin. The assassin's Queen, maybe. Her every motion is martial perfection and she seems wholly out of place in this run down little shop. But goshies gollies gees, the smells in this place.

"I could use a little more respect, Shana. I'm your best customer, y'know?"

"Tch. Meaningless drivel: you are my only customer."

"Wha- how is that s'posed to undermine my position?! A-and look! Anyway I'm not here for schemin' so there. Y'see that guy? He has woe'd upon me! So I'm here to revenge him, see? Revenge him good!"

Shana's posture shifts in an instant from the threat of ultra-violence to absolute stillness. Unless you count her breathing, or the way she tilts her head like a cat that doesn't understand something. Or the smile spreading across her poisonous lips. Aside from all those things? Still as a portrait.

"Oho? Vengeance..... you say?"

"Yush!"

Shana lifts her knife to her forehead like a swordsman's prayer. She flips the blade and her blindfold is sliced clean in two. And I'd say something about waste, but I can't because holy wowies, her eyes. They are the most bizarre and violent things a body's ever set eyes on. Concentric circles of green, red, orange, and purple dance with nightmarish delight. Her lips part into a wide grin that flashes her perfect teeth, which feature canines that would be more at home on a vampire than anything else.

"Kehe.... kuhahaha! INTERESTING! INTERESTING, FLUFFYBISCUITS! THEN LET THE DANCE OF SHADOWS DESCEND UPON THIS SHATTERED STAGE ONCE MORE! HOWL, MY SWORD! MY FANGS OF HELL!"

Should I have warned you? I feel like I did. Shana is an edgelord. A former princess, in fact, who got herself out of the game some time ago but never got around to getting the game out of herself. Now that she's been activated, her knife work takes on a whole new quality to it. Where she had been rather blandly cutting radishes she now reveals this to have been a sort of forced calm. She doesn't slice the vegetables so much as attack them. One slash creates a whirlwind that does for all of her peppers and her onions. Spinach and more radish slices follow on the counterstroke, while a downward thrust manages to perfectly slice the most tender, perfectly cooked beef into beautiful cross sections that show off their marbling.

She tosses the blade into the air and whirls toward the counter with a pair of large earthenware bowls that she fills with steaming, nigh-crystal clear broth with such force that it's a wonder and a miracle nothing spills. It's true though! Everything's pristine. And as the knife lands it cleaves a pair of soft boiled eggs in half, and nobody watching can even be sure when those even got here.

She holds a pair of strainers, one in each hand crossed over the opposite shoulder. She shudders with laughter, and! Slash! Swish! Dunk! Hold! Pull! Flick! Set!

"Your doom tonight is... SHIO!" She pauses and ties a fresh wrap around her eyes, and suddenly she is still again. She bows with a gesture toward the bowls, "Please. Enjoy."

Kat wiggles her tails in anticipation, and carefully measures some broth to go with noodles and one of every vegetable and meat inside the wide, flat spoon she's holding. Thus does she display her Ultimate Technique.

But she doesn't eat. And she doesn't say anything. There are, she knows, two types of spiky people in the universe. And one solution for each. Which is this sheep? It's time to find out!

Well, Dolce? How does Fox Vengeance taste?

*****

As everyone is no doubt aware, water on Earth tends to be haunted. Well, maybe haunted isn't the right word. Cursed is a bit more on the nose. It's the demons, you see. Rivers are so clogged with them and their wicked curses that fish up and packed their bags for the sky a long time ago.

It's mostly not a problem? The government is dependable and good about pumping purified water into most everybody's houses, and ferrying it in nice, usable packages where the homes are a little bit too remote for the normal infrastructure to reach. Drinkable fluids and regular bath times are not at risk here, it's mostly just that old saying about always walking with your cart to the river, if you remember it.

But all the same, y'know? Curses build in potency where they roll downhill and pool. People don't forget a thing like that. So there's a goodly amount of caution among regular folk as regards large bodies of water, be it standing or running. It's why the Terraced Lake, beautiful as it is (and to be sure it DEFINITELY qualifies as The Big City) is kind've a Sticksburg compared to, say, Ys. Sure it's safe enough but who'd really wanna live there? Do you really want the reminder all the time if you've got options elsewhere?

I mean. Takes all kinds I guess. But the point is, it's a big deal when somebody with sufficient spiritual Oomph (to use the technical term) comes along and uncurses some water. But even when that's good and done, when the celebration is over habit tends to kick in, unless it's like, a really good well or something. Again, who wants the reminder? Most people don't enjoy fighting demons. Obvious enough when you say it, right?

And that's a whole lotta air to say that, especially in the dark of night, only two kinds've people frequent hot springs: the very very brave, and the very very foolish. And there's a lot I wish I could say about geothermal springs right now and solitude and the effects of mineral water on your skins or scales or whatever. I've got this whole routine about how the pipes need to be clean because they acrete sulfur and calcium and junk just from the slow little drip drip drip until there's enough to make a puck out of. Or how a mountaintop spring like this is a perfect place to hunt for falling fragments of the old suns. Even though those fall everywhere, but a place like this is--

"Excuse me?! I think maybe you should check our record again before you say something like that to me!"

"Oh what, like 62-58 is anything worth bragging about???"

"62 to-- darling, please get your head looked at. You're so delusional you're going to drown!"

"The water here's nowhere near deep enough for that to happen!"

"NOT THE... It! Is! A! Metaphor! You're drowning in your delusions, you little dunce!"

"Tch. Yeah sure, I'm the delusional one here. You wanna go again?"

"I'd love nothing better! But unfortunately"

"Come on let's go! Let's go right now!"

"Without getting dressed?!"

"Pffft, NOW you're embarrassed? I've already seen everything!"

Dyssia, you have walked into a storm. There are women here. Exactly one women: that is, two womans. Neither is wearing anything other than a soaked towel that's stuck to them through the miracles of mineral water. The first of them is very much a pretty girl's idea of a pretty girl, with a glittering tiara sitting atop her head even here in the bath and her hair stubbornly worn in twintails so long they dip into the waters even while she's standing.

Her, um, partner is lounging in the water with her arms pulled up and back behind her to rest on the rocks she's leaning against. She's a study in contrasts to the woman she's arguing with. Slender and cut where her opposite number is curvy and built. Short cropped, rather butch hair against that stunning, magical girl-esque femininity, its color a rich chocolatey brown against the first girl's softer, sandier look. Her face is slashed down the middle by a mess of soaked bangs worn overlong with a flash of super cool white lightning painted inside of it.

"That is NOT the point," says Twintails.

"Then what is?" Spikes shoots back.

"This is a bath! That is not! Are you suggesting it is appropriate to race in this?!?"

She plucks at her towel. Very carefully, so it does not betray her. Spikes throws her head back and laughs.

"Sure! I'd love to see that! And you'll love checking out my ass when I go shooting past you!"

"Ex, e-e-EXCUSE??" Twintails' face turns redder than a beet, "That isn't... what I... you'd be stuck behind me anyway so I wouldn't-- I mean no! What! If! Somebody! Sees! Us????"

"Izzat what's bothering you? Scar', nobody cares! Like, look! There's somebody here right now! She sees! Check it! You don't mind, right lady? Right? Like hell, who would?! Body like this!"

And she takes the opportunity to strike with the precision of a loosed arrow and snatch away her partner's towel (and dignity) to prove her point.

The slap that follows echoes on the water five times before it falls silent. The woman named 'Scar' (presumably that's short for something because her skin is frankly flawless) trembles with barely contained rage. Her mouth opens twice to say something, but no words will come. The water sprays everywhere as she suddenly turns and dashes at full speed for the showers and the locker rooms beyond. As she goes, her beautiful tiara falls from her head and she does not stop at all to collect it.

"Ugh, women." says the woman who remains, sinking back into the springs and blowing really cool and not at all frustrated bubbles.

She pokes her head back up almost immediately and takes in Dyssia properly for the first time.

"Uh. I... I screwed that up pretty bad. Didn't I?"

*****

"Chennnnnnnnnn! Oh my gosh hiiiiiiiiiiii!"

There are hugs, and there is delighted dancing, and there is cake with strawberries in it, and a bottle of sparkling cider that Yue fishes out of her seemingly bottomless bag, since it doesn't go at all with sake.

"Don't, um, don't get the wrong idea," she leans in close to her friend and whispers, "It's her accent, right? She's from space and all. So when she says 'Princess' she really means--"

"So."

Bella looks up from her cake, which she has been devouring with surprising speed given the degree to which she is observing the Laws of Decorum. Her eyes shine fiercely in the night, one cat looking at another for the first time in her life.

"You're one of them, then? These fabled superior duelists Yue was describing? I'll ask you then. How does she... no. How do I rate?"

Dyssia has had the idea explained to her on the way both on the way here and again in the locker room, but it still boggles the mind. An entire planet! Like, seventy to ninety to some-odd-big-percentage covered in water, and--

And this is the place! This is the place that all the life on Mars came from! With the tentacles and the sharks and the fish and the crabs so tiny you'd barely be able to compare them to a proper battlecrabs--

And it's poisoned! Poisoned to the degree that even a small body of natural water that's safe is… It's the first thing that's made her even slightly uncomfortable here, and she can't let it stay like--

She pauses in the middle of taking off and neatly folding her towel next to the spring's edge to give the question its due consideration. Hold on, Miss--Missus?--Mizz Spikes, she's not ignoring you, you see, but it's very important that this question and--

Oooooooh gosh this water, yes this water, she's gonna melt in this water--

--Get the proper pondering it's due.

She lies back, head on the edge of the pool, arms spread, and considers sinking underneath the water until all the problems go away. But, alas, she has promised an answer. Well, no she hasn't, hasn't said much to this point, but she's been asked one, and being rude in someone else's hot springs is simply unthinkable.

"I've seen things screwed up, uh, worse? If that's any consolation?"