“Gugh!”

Cas’s cough, constructed more from dust than air, merely added to the choking fog of dirt which had billowed up around her.

It was hard to see, but the half-alive monsters littering the terrain did well enough to give her a general map of her surroundings.

There was land rising up in a cone all around her. A pit, rather… a crater.

Closer to home, Cas was still alive! Hands came instinctively up to feel her body, as if to make sure it was still there, which it had no right to be. Slime or not, getting turned into a gas seemed hardly survivable.

She attempted to sit up when a hot weight rolled down her chest. A tilt of the chin revealed a glowing piece of metal floating on her aura. Cas raised her brows, gingerly picking up the battered spear-head like it was a hot-potato, the intense heat radiating through her aura and her eyes as she plucket it up into the air, tossing it until it cooled enough to hold properly.

The blade molded into an abstract shape, with sharp curves and pockmarks cutting through the form.

“Ugh. Ugh! Ugh!” A cough of dead air beside her drew Cas’s attention. That had been a human cough. In fact, looking through the dust, it was a human aura, and the status sheet gave her few options as to who it could’ve been.

image [https://i.imgur.com/ECGcvVe.png]

“Prince?” Cas called through the silence, cringing at how her voice echoed, still able to hear the chittering of monsters far above the border of the sinkhole. “Is that you?” she asked.

“Lady Cassandria,” the voice answered tiredly. “I can tell you’ve been through a lot.”

“I saw your Trinket disappear. I thought you’d died.”

“Well, you worried yourself over nothing. Trinket or no, Prince Haowi does not die easily.”

Cas cut to the meat of that sentence. “So… the Trinket is gone, then?”

The prince only laughed, though it was a far more bitter one than any she’d yet heard him give. “It means everything is going as it should go,” he answered simply. “Trinket Ember has done everything it needed to. It has no cause to stay around.”

Cas took shallow breaths in an attempt to minimize the dust getting into her lungs.

She looked closer at the prince. Though his red glow had disappeared, the blue light of his aura remained. Around his hands in particular, a strong, navy blue light shone, and that light reached out like a string, which connected to an invisible bubble that surrounded Cas.

Cas reached her hands out curiously, and rapped her knuckles against the blue glow. It hummed with a crystal, tinking sound before crumbling away as if under the effects of age.

Cas looked turned her head from the magic shield to look directly at the prince’s aura.

“You saved me,” she said.

“Aye,” the prince nodded.

“Thank you.”

“Do you still have my brother?”

Unclipping her pouch, Cas pulled out the glimmering gem with the silhouette of a boy sealed inside of it. She held it out to the prince.

“No,” the prince refused. “You hold onto it.”

Standing up into a higher crouch, Cas strained her senses. The dust blocked her sight, but it might as well have been clear air when compared to the monster cloud. She could sense aura clear through it, and there the medical unit had been set up for their arrival, and there the Trinket Sable still loomed over the horizon, and above them:

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

A wall of aura swirled, smaller than before, but the screeching, discordant cacophony of the gathered monsters could still be emanating from it. There were several sirens patrolling the border of it. They could see through the dust just as well as she, and their heads were pointed directly down at them.

Cas followed their gazes down to the prince, who seemed completely at ease, or maybe just in too much pain to stand up from his reclined posture.

Right beside him lay a thick tent rope, which dangled down the side of the crater, leading up to a looming structure which could be seen on the surface above. To guess by the way the remnants of the monster cloud were treating it, the dome tent had survived as well, and the exceedingly ominous sounds of straining it made warned all to stay far away.

Cas looked suspiciously at the rope next to the prince, far too aware of what damage those things could do.

The prince treated it like a toy, as he stood up into a kneeling posture and held it aloft, pulling it close to his face for a closer look.

“Is that a good idea?” Cas pointed at the rope held inches away from Haowi’s nose, looking at it like it was a viper as she shuffled a few safety steps away from the whole scene.

“Cas…” the prince said suddenly. “I have an escape plan.”

“Really?” Cas shifted further away, as the dome tent let out another loud creak. “And what would that be?”

The prince’s beard hid a smile. “Do you trust me?” he asked.

----------------------------------------

Cas didn’t know what she’s done to get herself into this situation, but she promised to never do it again.

A blue glow lit around the prince’s hand, spreading to her shoulder when he touched it, and it felt like sunlight as it rolled over the exterior of her aura, slipping off the surface blue energy like oil skimming the surface of a river.

“You have to stop resisting it,” the prince warned, “otherwise it won’t take effect,”

Cas, reluctantly let out a deep breath, extending her aura just as the prince had shown her.

Her aura perfused itself, and the spell sank in.

It was a small effect, at first. The prince seemed a little taller, and her shoe-laces seemed a bit closer. Soon the changes compounded on themselves until she was half size, then a quarter, and eventually the prince was a giant, his features totally obscured behind clouds of dust as he bent down through them and lifted her up in his palm.

In his other hand was a small, leather pouch which – after placing her firmly in the pocket of it – the prince hooked onto the end of the tent rope.

Cas could have said it felt like a roller coaster, but roller coasters inspired more confidence.

This, whatever it was, wasn’t a very professional affair. There were no seat belts, or warning lights, or even a line of people eager to get in.

The leather strap she’d been placed in hugged around her like a hammock. Looking ahead, what seemed like miles of tent-rope ran up the side of the crater before disappearing into the dust. And above all that, a vague darkness put the top of the crater into shadow.

Cas knew the rope continued on beyond where she could see. She knew it connected to the dome tent, which had been making increasingly worrying noises as of late, and she understood, vaguely, that the prince planned to use the whole complex as a trebuchet for all his hopes.

Cas was dubious about this whole affair, and she grew more and more dubious as the seconds passed, and the sirens descended to ever lower altitudes – and the dome tent crackled like a breaking roller coaster.

Never one for religion, Cas was an odd one out among her new-agey acquaintances.

Often, she struggled to keep her eyes from rolling whenever a co-worker tried to include her in a prayer, or mantra, or whatever Oprah was saying that week.

In particular, she’d quickly gotten sick of the ‘Law of Attraction’ fad that had taken over her Alma Mater. She’d hated the vagueness of it, the pseudo-scientific pastiche, the cultish vibes.

“Put positivity into the universe, and the universe will give you positivity back.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Hah! What hogwash.

As a scientist, Cas had been professionally offended when someone gave her that advice and pretended it had anything to do with quantum mechanics, and she’d immediately set that crystal-toting instagram model right on the matter.

More than that, Cas was an atheist scientist.

But… you know that saying about about atheists and fox holes.

Well, Cas was an atheist in a monster crater, at this point. Worse than that, Cas was an Atheist who’d been shrunk down to the size of a mouse, and loaded into a ten thousand pound slingshot.

And so, considering the above points in a rational manner, Cas tried – just once – to put some sanity into the universe as she looked over her shoulder at the prince and said.

“Respectfully, are you sure there isn’t a better wa-”

TWACK!

“aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyy!”

The dome imploded all at once with a massive bang that turned the whole of it inside out.,

Another blanket of dust puffed over the field, and the rope, connected firmly to a corner stake of the five ton tarp, whipped out at lightning speed, arcing through a thousand feet in a fraction of an eyeblink.

Cas didn’t feel the movement. It had happened too quickly for her to register. All she noticed was that it felt for an instant as if ten elephants had been stacked onto her chest, and her arms, and her organs, and every single cell inside of her body.

She probably broke several dozen bones, but they had healed suddenly.

And the tremendous pressure of that false weight disappeared just as suddenly, as if a steel ball had bounced off her body, and then suddenly… she was weightless, trailing a line of dust behind her as she flew into the clear air.

Cas had never skydived before, but she was a frequent flyer. Many of the same principles transferred over, and she found herself able to instinctively arrange her posture so that she flew straight like a dart rather than tumbling.

This afforded her a steady view of her surroundings as she raced across the crater, then over ten thousand feet of green grass in a flash.

At the apex of her arc, now, Cas was surprised to find that the collapsing tent had shot her directly at the hospice unit.

Had the prince planned it all this well? It didn’t make sense that he could, a collapsing tent connected to a rope was a very chaotic system.

But Cas wasn’t one to bemoan the one bit of good luck on this very bad day, and simply stretched her left arm out, catching the wind and adjusting her fall trajectory slightly to the right, where Sara stood with arms outstretched, maintaining a glowing field of space.

Bemused, Cas raised an eyebrow at this.

A magical catch-net? Heh, it even kind of looked like the in-game animation for that spell. She wasn’t sure why they even bothered, though.

At her size, terminal velocity was very survivable even if she didn’t have an aura.

But, again, Cas wasn’t one to turn away good luck, and simply dove directly into the glowing space, making sure to perfuse her aura like the prince had instructed earlier.

The glow caught against her aura like a repelling magnet and smoothly brought her to a floating stop in dead air before suddenly unshrinking her.

“Woah!” Cas tripped as her feet grew, slamming toe-first into the ground and setting her stumbling.

A firm shoulder caught her before she fell, and Cas looked up to see a familiar face looking at her with a stern, unreadable expression.

“I… I’m glad you’re ok,” Sara said simply.

She didn’t give time to answer, quickly turning and taking her place back in the middle of the communication glyph that had been drawn into the grass.

Cas, about to ask how Sara knew to catch her, remembered that the woman was in contact with everyone in the field, including the prince.

Cas’s – still often surprised by her new speed of thought – was quick to realize that reading a Psylen’s expression would be the most accurate way to gauge what was going on in a battle, so she did just that.

Sara did not look happy, not in the slightest.

Maybe she was just stressed from having to keep up all the communications by herself. She’d mentioned there used to be multiple Psylens in this army, after all. Not to mention, she was probably always in communication with the units that were having the most trouble, or which were losing the most people.

Probably, all Psylens looked like the world was ending when they were working.

But even as she listed all those perfectly reasonable objections, Cas knew that they were invalid.

Because there were different flavors of human unhappiness, and Sara’s was one of unmitigated despair.

After all, Sara had just succeeded in saving Cas, and the prince’s brother in one fell swoop. What could possibly have trumped such good news and put such a damper on her mood.

Looking around, Cas noticed that the rest of the surrounding unit were much the same. Not a happy face in sight. Sergeant Dalmatian was the closest person to the communication station; there to provide orders, no doubt, and even he lacked the aggressive defiance which had so characterized the man on Cas’s first blush with him.

Cas quickly felt her own good mood evaporating in such a despondent environment.

Sara opened her eyes and stepped out of the circle towards the sergeant. “The other units are in place to repel any monster incursions.”

“Aye,” a throaty growl answered her.

“Is there anything else I ought to tell them?” Sara asked.

“No.”

And the man stepped away.

Cas took the space he had previously been filling and addressed the Psylen. “Sara… what’s going on?”

Sara looked like at her like she’d asked why the sky was blue. “Trinket Ember is gone,” she answered obviously.

Cas smiled at that, happy to provide some good news. “Yeah, but the prince is still alive; you know that! I even asked him about the Trinket personally. He said the Trinket had already done everything it needed to.”

Sara’s expression only darkened, and Cas felt her doubts start to creep.

“I… I believed him, when he said that,” Cas said, feeling silly as the words escaped her lips. “The prince didn’t seem to be lying. I…” her hands were wringing together, now, and a few of the nearby soldiers were looking over at her. “I don’t think he was lying,” Cas added more forcefully.

“He wasn’t lying,” Sara answered softly.

Suddenly, a black flash caught Cas’s attention, though it happened in a place Sara had been staring at for a long time, now. In fact, everyone had been looking at it, as if expecting just this very thing.

Cas turned to look at the hill. Even through dust and earth, it was easy to see the prince’s aura, but it was no longer the only one in the crater.

“Sara,” Cas reached out. “He said it did everything it needed to.”

Near him, standing over him, was the black energy of Trinket Sable, in human form. It reminded Cas of the prince, back when he still had the red energies of Trinket Ember lighting his form.

A second passed like a sword stroke, and there was, once again, only one signature in that crater.

Cas barely had time to register the change before the woman appeared.

image [https://lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com/docsz/AD_4nXc_lHUgCnSoX4ZX7BfiilUlZXdEg3uT_CHvj6lpwDvfD_9M35i4KN1KqBtK1E-0qudtMoW87oX4WIhucxTYKxzGwoXokcdAU4KyyVOg2cJmXzPUd0loGSsmd383JtIKVk2NsL0q?key=pCbnK23KTEY9-tfqmH46BH7l]

Her appearance came as silently as a shadow, but all were aware of it the moment it happened.

She had eyes that made everyone avert their gazes, but a presence that demanded their full attention. She was a figure of contradictions, with an aura so terrifying to behold, but a face that was rather beautiful, and an expression serene.

Hair as black as coal ran framing arcs around an almost snow-pale face.

And, in particular her hands, cold and white, contrasted plainly with the tanned features and dark beard of the prince’s head, which she held aloft like a macabre lantern.

In her other hand was a black sword with a gentle curve and a wicked edge. She swung it with a carefree posture as she walked to Sargent Dalmatian.

“You are Kelbi Dalmatian,” the woman said, more in a statement than a question.

To his credit, the man kept an even tone as he answered. “You know my name.”

“Death is the keeper of all names,” the woman replied, holding out the dead prince’s head to him. “It is tradition that the nearest commander retrieves the head of his prince.”

Dalmatian accepted in gentle hands, holding it close to his chest as if shielding it from dangerous sights. “I thank you,” he answered the woman cooly, bowing as best as he could with the burden.

Sable answered coolly. “No matter. I do not come here lightly. I have important business to attend to. It will be in your best interest to comply.”

Again, that tone which spoke in matters of fact, and again an even reply from the sergeant.

“And what business might that be, mam?”

“I have come to kill you, Sergeant Dalmatian, as well as every person associated with the unit you lead in this morning’s battle.”

Cas’s dagger hand flew upward but crashed into a restraining grip.

Sara had a surprisingly strong hand, and an aura which snuffed Cas’s own in a contest of wills.

Cas, admittedly, was scared.

The Black Flag was a terrifying thing when it was off over the horizon, and now it was here. It was here for the express purpose of killing them! Cas’s body, still riding high off her recent ordeals, wanted to fight Sara; she almost did, straining against the impossibly strong grip before her eyes glanced up and caught sight of Sara’s expression.

Cas stopped her struggling, because Sara – if anything – seemed even more terrified. In fact, looking around, fear-paled faces could be seen dotted through the entire unit.

It was ludicrous, that so many figures should look so frightened, holding onto their weapons like they were security blankets.

Cas didn’t understand any of it. The woman was undoubtedly powerful, but she’d just guaranteed their deaths. Surely, fighting her was all they could do now. A slim chance of victory was better than that, wasn’t it.

The camp – which had been bustling with conversation in the wake of Ember’s dissaperance – had fallen silent after the woman’s arrival, and now had adopted the heir of an abandoned cemetery after her final declaration.

Everyone seemed to be holding their breaths.

In the midst of this serenity, the sound of the screaming cloud fell into fresh perspective.

The scattered remnants of monsters came together again in the sky, sounding almost sonorous, now that the torturous over-crowding they had suffered was at an end.

The cloud shifted shapes in the air, directionless, waving this way and that like a lost creature, and making worrying forays towards the gathered humans that surrounded it.

Trinket Sable glanced over her shoulder at the flying horde. Lifting her wrist, she gestured sharply with her index finger, as if she were flicking a switch. It was a subtle gesture, accompanied by an equally subtle ringing in the dark of the woman’s aura.

And then silence.

The monster’s song cut off abruptly, and the screaming cloud died, dropping to the ground with a clattering dribble of thuds.

Cas felt her dagger hand slacken and drop away from Sara’s grip.

Sable turned back to address them, though she spoke mainly to the Sergeant. “You, surrender.”

Sergeant Dalmatian was an imposing man, with wide shoulders and a figure that seemed to fill his armour to bursting. Yet, he somehow seemed very small before the woman, as he lowered his gaze to the prince's head in his hands and answered directly. “I surrender.”

“Gather your army, then. I’ll be sure to select only the ones I need.” The woman answered with a practiced ease. There was a perfunctory habit in her words, that told of a thousand similar conversations given in much the same circumstance.

Cas looked to the sergeant. Everyone did.

Dalmatian was used to this. Being the eldest child in a family of five had prepared him well for the army. It gave him an instinct to take charge of chaotic situations. It had emboldened him with a demeanor that everyone could look to when times were tough. Everyone believed they could look to him to get them out of any situation.

Sometimes, even he had believed in that.

Dalmatian wore his armor lightly.

He felt the weight of it, now, though, as he turned back to his men and relayed the order. It felt cold, and dead, and disgusting to wear – as if it had been soaked with blood.