Fuck. Fuck.

I couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t I breathe? I was going to die. I was going to die. I was going to die and everything was going to go wrong and-and I needed to undo this.

I had to fix this before everything went FUBAR.

“Take me to him,” I ordered in a wheeze.

I could do this.

Soon I was standing in front of a gagged and bound Valentine, furious necrotic green eyes focused on me. My vision slowly restored itself as I watched Valentine struggle.

He… He couldn’t escape. He couldn’t escape, thank god. Thank fuck. Thank everything under the sun.

My breathing started to even out as I stared at Valentine.

…

Right, Desmond. Let’s take care of him first before I think of ways to convince Valentine not to ruin both his and my lives.

“Sorry, are you injured?” I asked, looking over.

A shaking hand reached up, running through my hair. My entire body was shaking, vision blurred. Red eyes were focused on me, the ancient evil overlord braced against a wall.

“Yes, heavily,” Desmond agreed.

He had burns everywhere on his skin, entire body shaking worse than mine was. Blood dripped from some of his wounds.

“Take my blood, then,” I said.

Desmond did so with relish. A healing circle appeared, preventing me from growing affected by the scent of his saliva and regenerating my blood.

My terror didn’t fade, dread still twisting within me as I stared at the now life-threatening danger in front of me.

I had to resolve this.

Fear shivered through me, hair raising on every part of me. Even my soul was shivering.

How could I resolve this? What should I say? I needed to say something.

I could fix this. I could still fix this, right?

Several moments later, I was hungry and dehydrated. Desmond stopped, panting and making odd noises. I healed the skin, feeling his tongue continue to trace my jugular.

“Mmn, hn,” Desmond panted needily, breathing out, “Ah.”

I swallowed, face growing warm at whatever was going on with Desmond.

“Sorry for hurting you,” I said awkwardly, focusing on Desmond for a moment.

“The reward was well-worth it, Master,” Desmond breathed, voice sounding rough.

I ignored him as he hung off me, staring at Valentine.

“Okay, so literally everyone saw that. Thankfully, kidnapping a professor isn’t technically against any laws,” I said, more to myself than to Valentine, “Right… this… you…”

I stared into his sickly green eyes. His powers were fully unleashed, the glow of green lighting up his blackened veins. He was using necromancy. Shit. Shit, was he—he wasn’t bringing his army here, was he?

No, no, I could fix this! I could still fix this!

My entire body was trembling. I wanted to run. I wanted to hide. I wanted to collapse and cry and beg Valentine to just calm down. To promise I’d be okay, to promise that I wouldn’t do anything stupid or get hurt again.

…

It was really, really hard to breathe.

“So, are you stronger than him, Desmond?” I wondered.

I shifted, feeling awkward as Desmond continued to press himself against me, using me as a crutch as he kept licking at my neck.

Unlike what I expected, Desmond’s proximity didn’t give me any sort of comfort. I only felt more afraid as the cool skin of the vampire pressed against me.

“Yes,” Desmond agreed, voice heady, “You do not have to worry about him escaping.”

I pulled my lips into my mouth, staring at Valentine. A green glow emanated from him, the only reason I was able to see anything in the pitch black of the basement. How would I resolve this?

How would I fix this? How could I escape this situation?

Maybe everyone was right, and I already stopped the war. That would mean I could run now, as fast as I could and as far as I could, right?

And run I would have to. I would have to sprint as fast as I could and hope and pray that Valentine wouldn’t reach me before I found safety.

“Uuh,” Desmond moaned out, “Oh, mmn.”

Shivers ran down my spine. I reached up, entire body still shaking.

What did I do?

Fuck, I needed to speak. I needed to say something! What did I say? What did I do?

Before I could come to a conclusion, the basement lit up in an arcane blue glow. I glanced around, seeing various magic circles glowing with power. The light relaxed me slightly.

“Student Persephone Esmer-Gold, please see the chancellor in his office,” Herald’s voice was tired and annoyed, “Now.”

My fear twisted, entire body shuddering like I was cold.

I pulled my lips into my mouth. Well, that was quick.

Before I could do or say anything, I found myself at the stairs leading up out of the basement. Shit, no! Me being there was fine, because he wouldn’t—but now he would—no. Nononono.

“I will ensure he does not escape, Master,” Desmond moaned out, still very clearly in ecstasy from the amount of my blood he’d imbibed.

I glanced behind me, but he was gone. Taking a deep breath, I shakily exhaled. My face was red, and my entire body was shaking.

Right. Right. I fucked up. Cool. Great. Fuck.

No, no, I needed to, I needed…

A hand wrapped around my arm.

I fucked up.

“Desmond, ta—“

My words were silenced. Looking up, I stared at an old bald guy in a professor’s suit. I gave him a pleading look, but he didn’t look at me, shoving me toward the stairs.

NO! No. No… shit.

Heart hammering, I walked up the stairs. Several people were still at the scene, door broken. I avoided meeting everyone’s gaze even as the chancellor walked up.

I fucked up. I fucked up so hard.

His black suit only made him seem all the more daunting, his forest green hair and princess pink gaze building him up to be a fierce individual. Power and magic radiated off of Doom Herald.

Fuck. Fuck, everyone was in danger.

The closer he got, the more my head ducked. Tears fell from my eyes. I didn’t speak even when the magic wrapped around me was released.

What could I say?

My words would only be hysterical drivel at this point. My entire existence was one of terror, fear, and regret.

I found myself getting dragged off, staggering. Herald’s grip on my arm was bruising. Glancing up, I looked back down at the slight frown on his face. My eyes focused on the ground.

I seriously fucked up. Situation FUBAR, situation beyond FUBAR. Code Apocalypse, my entire life was over. Fuck. Fuck.

Maybe I would have felt better had I been thrown into his office. Had the door slammed shut.

But no. I was gently released the moment I was far enough in the office. In the deafening silence, the door clicked shut gently.

My body hadn’t stopped shaking the entire time, but the quiet click made me flinch violently.

I struggled to stay standing as a quiet sob escaped me.

Herald sighed gently.

Tears burned in my eyes as I stared at the ground, finding it hard to breathe.

Much to my surprise, arms wrapped around me. My eyes widened as my head was set against Herald’s chest.

I desperately reached out, hugging the man back. My body still refused to stop shaking, heart hammering and breathing coming in gasps.

“Panic and die,” Herald muttered, sighing again, “What did he do, that made you panic so much?”

Tears fell down my eyes. I clung to Herald tightly. My tears burned as they fell down my face. I shook, my gasping turning into sobs.

What was I supposed to do?

Valentine was a definite threat, now. My blackmail against him was null, and I didn’t know what to do.

I cried hysterically, unable to breathe as I sobbed. Things were already going poorly, but now I had no sense of agency.

No one was able to win against him!

What was I supposed to do? My only protection right now couldn’t go out during the day, and no one else on my side was strong enough to beat him.

If he was willing to forgo his hidden identity… Oh my god. How many skeletons were on their way? He wouldn’t send his entire army of hundreds of thousands of warriors here, would he?

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What could I do?

What could I do?!

My mind flicked through all of the people I knew about, and eventually landed on one I was certain could at least protect the Academy, should worst come to worst.

“J-Jerald,” I managed between sobs, “I, I need, I need to heal, I,” I couldn’t breathe.

“Jerald?” Herald asked, “As in the professor here? The dragon?”

“I just, I just, I don’t, I can’t—“ I can’t breathe. My arms were shaking, already tightened around Herald as much as I could get them to.

The worst case scenario flooded through my mind.

The buildings were burning to the ground, blood covering everything. In the center, Valentine stood. His hand was tight around Aph—around my throat. Sickly green eyes focused on mine.

“You can’t escape me anymore,” Valentine said. All around him skeletons and Lich’s were fighting the living. Everyone I loved was dead around us.

I couldn’t breathe. I needed to breathe.

“Why is she crying so hard? She is the one who abducted the professor, is she not?” A foreign voice sounded out. I flinched, clutching at Herald like he would be my savior. The voice was odd, each word sounding like a wheezing and rasped growl.

I needed to heal him. I needed to heal him. I needed to heal him. I needed to let go. I needed to let go so I could heal him.

I clung to Herald for a long moment. Several moments later, one of my arms released him. I turned to regard the man.

A young and noble man with white hair and slitted golden eyes was in the office, staring at me. One of his arms hung limply at his sides.

My sobs slowed as I stared at my actual savior. Jerald could fix things. With Jerald and Silas there everything would be okay, right? Everything would be fine. We’d all be okay.

R-right. I needed to heal him. Three feet… twelve times three… Thirty-six.

Several minutes later, a giant light green magical circle appeared.

All of my magic vanished after several long moments, circle fading out. I stared at the man. His gaze slowly shifted from mine, and he leisurely looked himself over.

“You have healed me,” The dragon uttered, voice now deep and noble.

The sound was one that I would have hated had I not potentially sicced an army of undead on the Academy two years too soon.

“C-can you do me a favor?” I asked.

My voice was weak and wet. Like a half-drowned kitten that had just crawled out of the mud. I was shaking and crying and still sobbing.

Jerald gave me a disapproving look, “I will not help with your abduction.”

I shook my head, free arm wrapping around Doom Herald again. I closed my eyes, reveling in the feeling of Herald’s warm and strong arms wrapped tightly around me.

“Can, can you fly around the Academy and the surrounding areas for a bit? Just… just check things out.”

Jerald tilted his head, slitted golden eyes remaining focused on me, “I owe you my life, so long as it does not go against my morals, you can ask anything of me.”

“N-now, then.”

At the silence, I opened my eyes, meeting his. Jerald nodded once. Turning, he left the office.

“What was that about?” Herald asked, sounding disgruntled.

I hesitated. Maybe had I not vanished the moment Herald called for me, but… There was no way Valentine wasn’t attacking the Academy now. Even if I went back right now, I think he’d already made his decision.

I had to tell Herald, now, or everyone really would die. Keeping it a secret at this point would be useless.

“He’s Valentine.”

“Jerald?” The chancellor’s voice was twisted, surprise and disbelief tainting his voice.

“No. Lance. He’s Valentine,” I muttered tiredly, “That’s the blackmail I had against him. That’s why the king doesn’t know I’m not his daughter. Valentine suddenly decided my blackmail wasn’t worth anything, though, so I panicked.”

Herald’s arms were painful around me, “You knew such a dangerous individual was around the students and you didn’t think to tell me?”

I sighed shakily, only gaining more comfort from the painful embrace.

“Blackmail doesn’t work if you get rid of the reason for compliance. If I told you, we would have just been in danger sooner.”

I never wanted to leave these arms. I hugged him as hard as I could, roughly shoving my face against his chest and nuzzling into it. I almost felt like I could be safe, and that everything would be okay, if I remained in these arms.

Before Herald responded, Jerald’s voice echoed throughout the halls of the Academy.

“Code black. An army of undead has the Academy surrounded. I repeat. Code black. An army of undead has the Academy surrounded.”

Herald cursed up a storm, releasing me. I felt oh-so-lonely. Several thousands of miles away, sailors blushed at the words Herald snapped out.

Before he stormed out, he hesitated, “You are an idiot. Come with me, you will have to fight on the front-lines. Your unique ability to copy spells is a must.”

The front lines… I didn’t have magic for that.

“I used all my magic to heal Jerald,” I muttered quietly, miserable.

I’m scared.

“Yes, there are potions for that,” Herald snapped, reaching out.

I found myself getting dragged along behind Herald as he barked orders over the communications systems.

All students able to heal were put on field medic duty, all third years and above stationed around the perimeter.

The Academy halls were suddenly hectic. People were running and yelling, everyone having a destination. Professors were guiding the first and second years as they ran to their own stations.

Only a few minutes later, the comm systems were taken over.

“To think it would end like this,” A haunting and deathly tone echoed out of the speakers, “I will not attack if you release Fiona to me. She is mine.”

The message repeated several times before going quiet. I found myself in a room full of professors, some guy with a long beard and sparkling blue robes sitting down and listening as everyone else was standing, yelling over each other to be heard.

“Enough!” Herald yelled, releasing me as he stormed inside.

I hesitantly found a spot to stand in the corner, staring at everyone as they yelled at each other. The kid professor was rubbing his left ear, his milky white eyes staring straight at me.

I watched as the kid—this was Nocta, right?—walked toward me slowly. Eventually he rested against the wall.

“Welp. Now would be a great time to heal me of all my injuries, ya?” The kid suggested.

Guilt twisted inside of me.

I swallowed, “I uh, I used my magic on the white dragon.”

The kid scoffed, shaking his head, “Welp, that sucks. They’ll get you potions to regenerate your magic, though, so that’s okay. It’ll hurt like hell to cast, but you’ll be able to.”

Hurt like hell… that was fine. That was more than fine, I deserved the pain. How many people were in danger because of me?

“Then yeah. You’re absolutely right. First thing I do after downing a mana regen potion will be to heal you,” I agreed, “Then down another one.”

Nocta nodded, blind eyes focused on the room at large, “Don’tcha know? The only reason a student would be in this room is if they were either the cause of the debate or something to be debated over.”

I swallowed, fingers shaking as I crossed my arms. The small amount of comfort wasn’t very helpful, but it allowed me to speak, voice hardly a mumble.

I struggled to answer, every word a challenge to say, “B-both. Professor Lance is-is… he’s V-Valentine. He… he was going to abduct me, so I did it first.”

Nocta laughed, expression not very mirthful, “So you’re Fiona, then.”

I swallowed again, shifting, “I-I’m not a necromancer or-or-or anything, I—“

Nocta scoffed, shaking his head, “No need to explain. I can see how weak your magic is. You’d need three times the magical power you have to even think of stealing a body. Whatever happened to you, it wasn’t your choice.”

I sniffled, relaxing slightly. I nodded.

“Yeah,” I agreed, relieved someone believed me, “I would never have chosen nor agreed to this.”

We both looked out at the crowded room of individuals. Someone moved to the door, closing it as they spoke over the comms.

“Looks like the chancellor knew, too. Did you make a magical oath? Can’t imagine him keeping you alive otherwise. He hates necromancy and soulmancy.”

I nodded, wiping at my eyes as more tears fell. I sniffled. Lines of magic much more complex than the privacy spells laced around the entire room.

“Y-yeah. I swore I never intentionally killed anyone, and had no intentions of becoming queen of anything, let alone the Silver Kingdom.”

All of the professors aside from Nocta glanced around as the room was locked and sealed.

“Have you ever unintentionally killed someone?” Nocta asked plainly.

The question was a loaded one. I stared at Herald as he explained the situation, several people yelling and cursing. Eventually I came to an answer.

“Yeah,” I agreed, eyes growing unfocused as I admitted to my mistake, “H-he was my best friend. He told me to kill myself, so I kicked him in the face. W-we were in an unsafe building, s-so when I did that the floor collapsed under us. I landed on stone. He… he landed on wooden splinters twice as tall as we were. By the time I woke up he was already…” My voice grew weak, more tears falling, “He was already gone.”

Nocta sighed, relaxing. His crossed arms fell, and he held his cane.

“Yeah. I’ve lost a few friends that way. ‘Course, we were all hardened adventurers, not children. How old are you?” His blind eyes flicked sideways, head not turning as he looked in my general direction.

I swallowed thickly, looking down at Nocta. His viking-style hair didn’t match his northern midwest accent at all. Neither his style nor his accent matched his youthful appearance.

“I’m twenty-six or seven. You?”

“Fifty-one.” The answer was sharp.

I nodded quietly. I looked away from the gray-haired professor, staring at the room again.

“Which Fiona is he talking about?” One of the professors asked, the bald one that dragged me from the basement, “If it’s a graduate then just give her to them—”

“Uran! No!” A female professor snapped, “We aren’t sacrificing a student to that monster!”

“They’re a first-year,” Herald responded with a sigh, “And I agree with Dawn. Sacrificing any student, no matter how stupid and ignorant they are, is unacceptable.”

I flinched even though the chancellor of the Academy, Doom Herald, didn’t look my way. His strawberry eyes were focused on Uran.

Lockheed spoke up, much to my surprise, “Of course not! Uran, your idea is out of place.”

Would he be saying that if he knew I was the one to drop mud on him?

The exhausted professor that helped me out several times by now was leaning against a wall, yawning.

He spoke, voice lacking energy, “We don’t have any time to bolster the defenses of the Academy. Why don’t we send her into the Fae Forest while we deal with the situation here? Not even Valentine de Notos is reckless enough to attack the Fae.”

The man’s eyes closed, head leaning against the wall. After a moment, his eyes opened again.

“Send her to the Fae so that she could be trapped in a forest forever instead of trapped with Valentine?” Silas asked the tired teacher critically. Silas was sitting down, and he had to turn to stare at the tired professor.

“The safety of the majority of the students should take precedence over the safety of the few!” Indigo disagreed vehemently.

Ugh. Why did I heal that asshole?

“I should have healed you first,” I muttered.

Nocta hummed, “Welp, he isn’t wrong. He just isn’t right,” Nocta rose his voice, defending me, “Sacrificing the life of any student goes against our contracts as professors. No one deserves to be handed over to an evil bastard, no matter how close or far from graduation they are.”

“Nocta is correct,” Silas compounded on, gesturing at Nocta. His silver eyes were focused on me, though, “We need to focus on protecting Fiona whilst also keeping the Academy and its other students safe. With Jerald fully healed, we have enough firepower to hold off the initial attack.”

Twinkling purple eyes focused on me, the sparkling midnight robes feeling ominous as the Dumbledore lookalike spoke, “Why don’t we ask Fiona herself?”

The room went silent, the professors looking at the President of the Academy and following his gaze.

I flushed under the looks I was getting, arms crossing again. My breathing was shaky. I looked down for a moment, trying to think.

He wanted me to—

Clang!

Looking up, I saw Nocta in front of me, his cane blocking Silas’ sword. I stared, wide-eyed, at Silas. He was glaring at me, aura and magic alike seeping off of him in black waves, suffocating me with his pressure.

“Hey, now. Maybe we should let her speak before trying to kill her, eh?” Nocta instructed critically.

Several of the professors were staring at me with less-than-friendly looks.

“A body-thief,” Silas snapped, eyes holding nothing but contempt, “We should throw her to Valentine and hope they kill each other in the struggle.”

I felt sick, legs giving out. My eyes were wide as they stared at Silas, tears falling down my face. I blanched, gaping at Silas.

“Enough!” Herald yelled out, dragging Silas away from Nocta, glancing at me before physically blocking Silas’ view of me, “She isn’t a body-thief! If she were she would have died by now.”

I panicked, standing up and speaking as more people shifted to attack me, voice stuttering.

“I, Fi-Fiona L-Lily Ma-Martin, swear on my magic and soul that-that I am not-that I am not a necromancer and d-didn’t have anything t-t-t-to-to do with m-my c-current residence in this body, or, or any knowledge it would happen at all! Or who did it, or how it happened! I don’t-I don’t serve under anyone, I have no master who is, who is for-forcing me t-to do things, and-and m-my arrival i-in this body was n-not my fault. I have never intentionally killed anyone, and, and I, and I d-don’t intend to b-bring harm to anyone. I promise.”

The entire room went silent, staring at the lines of magic burning their way across my skin. They glowed white after a long moment. Silas’ energy faded. Tears filled my eyes, and I collapsed in the corner I’d hid in, exhausted. I looked at the ground, gasping for air as I covered my face.

For a long moment, the only noise in the room was my gasping sobs.

“She was colluding with Valentine,” Silas said, “We shouldn’t feel bad for her.”

“I was blackmailing him s-so I didn’t get f-fucking killed!” I yelled, glaring at Silas, “Fuck.”

More tears fell. I covered my face again, curling up. Ugh, fuck. I really felt like I couldn’t catch a break.

What would you do if you found yourself deep into enemy territory with no allies by your side and no escape?

Apparently my answer should have been “ally with a criminal, make things FUBAR, and then panic when it backfires”.

“I wanna go home,” I mumbled pathetically, curling around myself as I cried.