The Fractured Song Index

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***

Frances felt her grip on her wand tighten. She waited with bated breath, expecting an onslaught of memories. The riptide that would tear her from the present and into a torrent of foreign sensations was an ever present threat.

She felt none. She could only see her two former bullies in front of her. Jessica, a worried smile across her scarred face, glancing between them with bright blue eyes. Frances could see that she was gripping her mage’s staff tightly as well.

Leila stood, head bowed, bandaged hands now nervously clasped. Frances realized now why her uniform had matched Jessica’s. It was actually Jessica’s uniform she was wearing, which explained why it was so ill-fitting on the much shorter and stockier girl. Had her former bully ever looked so timid and worried? For that matter, what had happened to the color and health of her dark skin?

“Hi Leila.” Frances narrowed her eyes. “Have you gotten yourself checked out at the healers? I heard you got badly hurt in the siege.”

Leila winced. “Tortured, um. Yes they checked me out. These hands are just the last things they need to go over before well, the final battle and uh… Look I’m—”

“They didn’t heal you on the way here?” Frances asked, arching an eyebrow.

Jessica coughed. “Leila had her worst injuries healed, but she wasn’t seen as essential exactly until now. We also pushed hard to get here. Only had like a day or two where we weren’t on the march.”

Pursing her lips, Frances glanced at Leila’s bandages. “I’ll take a look at your hands later then. I’ll find you or you can find me tomorrow. I just need to get to a meeting I’m having with my friends.”

Frances made to pass the pair with her baskets, only for Leila to step in front of her.

“Frances, um, can we talk. Please? I know I don’t deserve it and that you hate me—”

“Leila, I don’t hate you.”

Jessica, who’d been hesitating, not quite sure whether to approach or say anything, let out a noise that sounded a little like a croak and a gasp. Leila just blinked and stared.

Unable to resist the urge to let out a deep sigh, Frances did so before adjusting the baskets on her shoulders. “Leila, this is just incredibly awkward and strange for me.”

Leila blinked owlishly at Frances. “You’re really not angry?”

“I told you she wouldn’t be, Leila,” Jessica said, squeezing her friend’s shoulder.

“You couldn’t tell me why!” Leila exclaimed.

“I don’t know why honestly.” The pair’s gaze shifted back to Frances, who was pursing her lips. “You both hurt me badly. Jessica, you’ve apologised and my friends respect you. I think we’ve put what happened behind us. But Leila, you’ve nearly killed Ayax, Elizabeth and Ginger so many times I’ve lost count. You’ve killed soldiers from my battalion and now you wear their uniform because you want to fight with us.”

Frances lifted her head to look up at the ceiling for a moment. For a moment, Frances was tempted to pull her hand mirror out and call Edana, but she knew she couldn’t ask her mother for guidance. She probably wouldn’t know what to do in this situation.

“I still believe you. I know that you switched sides to protect Janize. I’ve heard a little of what you were going through, but I can’t forget what you did to me, especially when I know that you bullied me despite knowing that I was being abused.”

Leila crossed her hands behind her back. She straightened, forcing her chin to lift up and her eyes to meet Frances. “What…what do you want me to do?”

“What did Frances want Leila to do?” was the question that could be answered in a few ways. Part of Frances wanted her former bully to pay for what she had done to her. Most of her just wanted to be anywhere but here in this strange situation where the weirdness of the situation played like tingles over her skin.

Yet, Frances also knew what was to her, the right answer to her dilemma. The more she stood, in her own thoughts, the tingling trembling feeling slowly subsided.

“Move on,” Frances said, her amber eyes meeting Leila’s dark brown.

Her former bully swallowed. “What do you mean by that?”

“I forgive you.” Frances forced herself to smile and turned to Jessica. “I forgive both of you.” It wasn’t the hardest thing she’d ever done. In a fashion, this was far easier than many of the challenges she’d overcome. Forgiving herself when she was thirteen for something she had never needed to forgive herself for? That had been hard. Accepting she deserved love was something she struggled with even at this moment. Realising that she was not going to be like her birth mother and that she could be the mother that Morgan needed? That had been easier, but her daughter had played an instrumental role in helping her.

Forgiving her former bullies was like stepping through fire. It hurt, and even after she was through, it stung. But she was through it.

“You…you really do?” Jessica asked in a quiet voice. Her eyes were wide. Leila was beyond words. One hand against her collarbone, as if trying to hold herself standing. She was heaving in deep breaths of relief, tears running down her cheeks.

Frances’s smile faded, but she managed to not scowl, only let out a sigh. “I haven’t forgotten what you both did, especially you, Leila. What you did to my cousin, even if unknowingly…” Briefly closing her eyes and biting back the flash of anger, Frances let out a sigh. “Still, I’d very much like us both to move on from this.”

Leila nodded. “I understand. Even so, thank you.”

Frances allowed herself a nod. On impulse, she thrust her hand out. Leila took it awkwardly with her bandaged hand and shook her hands gently.

Turning to Jessica, Frances took the blonde Otherworlder’s hand more firmly and found herself able to smile once more. “Are you going to be staying here?”

Jessica pursed her lips for a moment before shaking her head. “No. I thought about it. I was sorely tempted, but I’m going home. I think I can use what I learned here and do some good on Earth.” She smirked. “Of course, I’m not leaving until I finish the job.”

“I didn’t doubt you for a second. Truly.” Frances let go of Jessica’s hand. “I’ve heard nothing but praise from Martin and Ginger. They’ve told me you’ve saved so many people. The children talk too.”

“Children?” Leila asked.

Jessica spluttered. “Frances you don’t have to—”

“When in Athelda-aoun, Jessica cares for the children and orphans with disabilities. Adjusting their prosthetics, carrying them up stairs and helping them with their traumatic memories.” Frances was almost tempted to giggle from the blush that came over her former bully’s face. “They’re going to miss you.”

Jessica wiped her eyes. “I’ll miss them, particularly Caelawen. They’re going through a rough time.”

“Their? Oh. Are they unsure or are they—”

“They don’t identify as either. That’s part of it but it’s more from what happened to them. I have my suspicions but they won’t tell me,” Jessica said.

Shrugging, Leila said, “I could look after them for you. Assuming I survive this.”

Jessica blinked. “You would?”

“I mean, you’re my best friend, Jess.” Leila smiled weakly at Jessica only to yelp as the taller girl slammed into her, embracing her tightly.

“And I’ll help her with that.” Frances flashed the red-faced Leila a cool glance. “Maybe not directly but I’ll do my best to make sure Caelawen is taken care of.”

“Thank you,” said Jessica, finally letting go of her friend.

“No worries. I need to go now. See you.” Frances waved to the two women and passed them by. As she walked down the corridor, a niggling sense that she’d left her back open made her glance over her shoulder.

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All she could see were Jessica and Leila waving her goodbye, smiling. Somehow, Frances found herself smiling as well and she gave them another wave, before moving on.

***

As Frances arrived at the top of the tower, she could hear masculine grunts. Ears perking up, she ascended the final steps and found Martin practising a sword pattern. Although it hadn’t been promised, he’d arranged a table which was set up by the old battlements.

“Hi Martin. Aren’t you worried you’d get sweaty?”

The knight chuckled as he sheathed his blade and helped Frances to unload the baskets. “Well, I heard you had a spell for that.”

Frances giggled. After a moment’s thought, she drew Alanna. “That I do, but maybe, before the others get here, we have time for a spar?”

Martin grinned. “Absolutely!” He proffered his sword to Frances, who sang a spell to blunt their blades. Once the pair had centered themselves in the unoccupied space in the centre of the tower, they raised their weapons.

Feinting a cut low, Frances promptly whipped her blade high, which Martin parried. Using the flat of his blade to deflect her estoc low, the knight struck high. Frances just managed to twist herself under her own blade to block the blow and circling around, struck Martin’s foot.

“Ow! Good one! You’ve been practicing!” Martin hissed.

Frances beamed proudly as Martin took his guard position up, adopting the over-the-shoulder wrath guard. “With Morgan! I don’t expect to remain unhurt for long, though!”

“Ha!” Martin whirled his blade. Frances, mistaking that for a slash, overreacted, setting her ankle banging against the battlement wall. Martin seized the opportunity to cut again. It looked wild, so Frances immediately lunged, trying to stab the opponent before he could hit her.

Only, Martin had perfectly anticipated her reaction. He turned his swing into a parry, slapping Frances’s blade aside. Stepping in, put the edge of his blade against her throat.

“I yield. Nice job,” Frances said as Martin stepped away.

The knight chuckled. “Thanks. You’ve improved. Your footwork is a lot better. Have you been practicing with Timur as well?”

“Yes, but he’s not nearly as good as you.” Her smile took on a more sorrowful turn. “Then again, he’s still recovering from his tail injury.”

“Oh no. Does it still affect his internal balance?” Martin asked.

“That and he sometimes trips over it.” Frances shook her head, banishing the memories of a good long cry the pair had had.

Martin patted Frances’s shoulder. “You know, if he’s interested, I’m happy to spar with him. Amura and Rathon know that I need practice partners who won’t go easy on me.”

Frances smiled, exchanging a look with the man that she regarded as the closest thing to a brother. “Thanks Martin. I think he’ll love to.” She arched an eyebrow as a little red colored his cheeks. “You know you’re a fantastic teacher, right?”

Martin scratched the back of his head. “I know. It’s good to be reminded by my only student, though. Makes me wonder if I should take an apprentice of my own before I get slammed into being king.”

Frances nudged Martin with her elbow. “Well, when you and Ginger have children, you could teach them.”

“And if they have magic, they’ll have a fantastic aunt to teach them.” Martin bit his lip as Frances blinked.

“Martin, what do you mean?”

Martin took a deep breath. “Ginger and I have been talking. My sister, Mara, and my parents are going to be our children’s family, but I want you to be part of their family too. Their guardian if anything goes wrong. I think I heard it called a “God-parent” in your world?”

“I’d be their Godmother.” Frances couldn’t help herself, she threw her arms around her dear friend. “It’d be my honor.”

Martin let out a breath, and squeezed Frances back. “Thank you. Honestly I wasn’t sure how you’d take that.”

“I told you Frances would accept!” said Elizabeth as she bounded up the stairs, two caskets slung over her shoulders. “Ginger is right behind me.”

“Thank. You. Frances. Dammit Liz, how do you carry these things so easily?” The regular human woman was hauling two bags packed with wine bottles. “Also, you two smell, though the food does look great!”

Exchanging a last, fond glance, Frances separated from Martin. She waved her wand and whistled a note, drawing the excess moisture from herself and the knight. She made sure not to pull all of it out but soon, they both smelt considerably better. “Sorry!”

“No worries. That just leaves, Ayax. I wonder where she’s gotten to—” Elizabeth blinked and raced back down the staircase. She returned with Ayax, lugging several bolts of cloth and two chests. The troll in question seemed almost buried by the pile of dresses and clothes she was carrying in hangers that hung from her mage’s staff.

“Is this a bit much?” Ginger asked, voice coming out almost like a weak croak.

Ayax laid her impressive pile atop of the chests and fixed her friend with a flat glare. “Ginger, I love you, but have you considered that this is your coronation and you really really cannot be underdressed?”

“I know, it’s just…I have to walk in front of everybody with Martin and…” Ginger swallowed, her chin dropping. “I’m going to look ridiculous enough already.”

Grabbing the redhead’s hand, Ayax gently touched her friend’s cheek. “Which is why when we’re done with you, your dress will be your armor.”

“And we’ll be with you,” said Elizabeth, throwing an arm over Martin’s shoulder.

Frances poured them all cups of wine from the bottle and waving Ivy’s Sting, levitated them to her friends. Raising her glass, she mirrored the determined grins that slowly took hold across her friends’ features.

“So, shall we get to work my dear friends?”

***

They spent two hours planning the coronation. Thankfully, the spread that Frances had prepared, dale-brick fries, pizza, a vegetable and beef stir fry, along with a sorbet went down easily. The light ale that Ginger had brought as well as the fruity wine was the perfect accompaniment.

“So that’s our dress, the ceremony, are we missing anything?” Martin murmured.

“Not regarding the coronation,” said Frances, taking a sip of ale from her cup.

“We do have to figure out how we are attacking Thorgoth,” said Ayax.

“Keeping it real, Ayax?” Elizabeth asked.

“Keeping it real… that means “bringing up something unpleasant but important,” right?” Ginger asked.

“Yes, and we do have to talk about defeating Thorgoth. We do have a number of significant advantages now that have changed things,” said Elizabeth.

Ayax smirked. “At least for once we outnumber Thorgoth and his forces.” That brought a few chuckles from the group.

“They do have dragons,” Martin said, glancing at Frances. “How bad were they?”

“The dragons made it hard for us to commit our best mages. The only people that can drive them off are Edana and myself. With Jessica, Leila, Ayax and the rest of the Otherworlders here, i think we have a better chance but it’s likely that Edana and myself will have to be held in reserve.”

“What about Lakadara?” Elizabeth asked.

“She’s decided not to participate,” Frances said.

Ginger grimaced. “She needs to change her mind.”

Frances frowned. “Ginger—” Her voice trailed off. The woman’s brown eyes had never looked so dark.

“Tell her that her siblings are going to die. We will have to kill them and none of us really want to do that,” Ginger said.

Frances found herself very still as she considered Ginger’s words. They were spoken without malice, but with her characteristic matter-of-fact manner. “Alright. I’ll talk to her and Goldilora tomorrow.”

Ginger almost nodded, but then her lips pressed together, one edge of them quirking up. “Actually, if you don’t mind, let me do that.”

“Wait, Ginger, are you sure? Lakadara’s well, a dragon.”

“You don’t think I can convince her?” Ginger asked, smirking.

“No, I think you will,” said Frances. She swallowed. “I’m just worried.”

“And I appreciate that and your trust in me.” Frances blinked at the wide, sincere smile that the redhead flashed her. “I wouldn’t have gotten here without it, but let me take her on. I am after all, going to be the Queen of Erisdale.”

Reflecting her friend’s smile, Frances impulsively touched Ginger’s hand. “You’re going to be a fantastic queen.”

Ginger clasped back, her eyes bright. “I think I’m starting to realize that.”

Elizabeth, smiling brightly, wiped a tear from her own eyes before coughing into a fist. “Right. So, assuming we can get Lakadara to at least stall if not talk some of her siblings down, we’re going to advance with our full force. Martin, I heard you ordered our regiments to prepare for the salvo pike formation?”

“Yes. We need to advance under fire. Smoke from our own guns is going to be a serious issue, though,” said Martin.

“Janize and her forces have surprisingly clean gunpowder due to the main arsenals being located in Erisdale city. I think we’ll be good,” said Elizabeth. She brushed back a lock of her hair. “We also outnumber them and have them surrounded. They aren’t going to be able to hold their ground.”

“So where do you think Thorgoth is going to deploy then?” Ayax asked.

“At his vanguard. He needs to break his army out of this encirclement and Titania has fewer forces,” said Elizabeth.

Martin and Ginger nodded, but Ayax and Frances found themselves exchanging glances.

“I’m not so sure about that,” said Frances. She pursed her lips. “Although, I don’t have a reason why I feel that way.”

Ayax nodded. “No, I agree with you, cuz. I don’t think he’ll be fighting Titania. I think he’ll be holding us off.”

“The only practical option is to break his army through though,” said Ginger.

“I’m not sure he is thinking of breaking through. Frances, you and Timur found out about the source of Thorgoth’s strength and enmity with the humans right? A second blessing and a promise from his late wife Queen Ulania?”

“Yes.” Frances frowned. “Ayax, what are you getting at?”

“There were a number of times that my sorrow nearly drove me too far. When you’re that angry and sad, it’s like nothing matters anymore. Everything you do feels right. You feel strong, and you never are in doubt that’s what you’re supposed to do.” The troll’s tail had become very still as she looked down at her own flexing palms. Her black eyes slowly drifted to Frances, then Elizabeth and finally, her friends. “You all kept me from falling down that path of revenge. However, if what Frances and Timur told us is right, Thorgoth in fact might be encouraged by Queen Berengaria to continue down that road.”

“In denial, or not caring where they are going,” Elizabeth muttered.

“Exactly.” Ayax’s tail lowered to the ground, and even her ears drooped. She’d fallen so quiet that Frances acutely noticed that the troll’s breath seemed to have stilled. Yet her gaze remained fixed on her cousin.

“Ayax?”

Ayax shook her head. “I’m alright. I’m better than alright, Frances. I’m just scared to think about what might have happened.”

“You would have been fine, Ayas. I know in my heart you would have figured it out,” said Frances.

“Maybe, but there’s something you should know.” Ayax accepted the hand Elizabeth slipped between her fingers. “Frances before I met you in Erlenberg’s Great Library, I was lost. You know that my fathers and grandmother Eleanor remarked how much better I seemed, that wasn’t hyperbole.”

“I don’t understand.”

Ayax sighed. “I didn’t really understand either, until after Darius died and after I made my peace with Leila. After that, I started to really talk with Liz about what we both wanted for the future and that was when it clicked for me. After my parents were murdered and before I met you, Frances… I was alive, but I wasn’t living. I was safe. I cared about my dads and my new family, but I was numb. It was almost like I was drowning, not sure if I was allowed to express what I felt, or how I could feel.”

Reaching across the table, Ayax clasped Frances’s shoulder, her black eyes boring into Frances’s wide ones.

“You woke me up from that. Yes, it has been a life filled with danger, but it has been a life that has been so worth living because of you.”

Frances, nodded once, eyes still wide as Ayax let go, a grim scowl on her face.

“Thorgoth has nobody to wake him up. He and his wife have locked himself into a path where all that matters is fulfilling their obsession of destroying humanity and their allies. They know of, can allow themselves to feel nothing else. What do you think they’re going to do?”

Frances knew what the demon king was going to do, but her throat had seized. Taking a deep breath, she was beaten by Martin’s gasp.

“He’s going to try to win the battle. Try to destroy us instead of saving himself and his army,” Martin whispered.