In my dream, I’m a gnome girl again. It’s not jarring, because it’s a dream. In a dream I could be anyone.

I have my hair tied back, and I’m working on a new potion. In my head, it’s my most devious concoction yet. I hope I don’t have to use it.

We’re on the road. I look at my new friends, and my heart swells. The brave orc, the heroic elven bartender, her sister the sniper, the human wizard, we all adventure across the forest quelling evil. And there is nobody I’d rather do it with than them. But tonight, tonight we face a dragon.

The wizard doesn’t look anything like the boy I think about from time to time. But he’s still very hansdom, if a little simple. He treats this whole endeavor like it’s a game. But it’s not a game.

He shows me his magic crystal slate, the way it glows, it's entrancing. He says that he’s here to find others like him. I don’t wonder much about what this means.

It all goes to shit.

The dragon’s red scaled face takes up my whole vision. It feels like it’s a mile wide. His voice rumbles, rattling the coins that make up his bed. He says ‘why should I fight for anyone? These goblins have never bothered me’ and ‘a kingdom is just a little bird nest with eggs waiting to be plucked, not something to bargain with.’

Then the dragon moves faster than I thought possible. His jaws close down on the elven sniper, and suddenly she is gone. But for one lone boot, foot still intact, you would never know she had ever been there.

Then we run. Fire burns hot at our backs. I toss a potion behind me that explodes into a wall of ice. It buys us precious seconds.

Later. A rematch. The dragon curls around the palace tower. Smoke darkens the sky. I look to the human wizard. I look to the elven bartender. They look back with determination. We can do this. We have to. Who else would save us, but ourselves?

I woke up to the sound of rain, the details of my dream fading fast. I quickly jotted them down in the notes app on my slate. The sun shone dimly through the portholes. Everyone dashed busily here and there to get the ship ready to dock.

The morning rushed by so quickly, I could barely recognize what was going on. We were shoved into a carriage — I only got a little bit wet from the drizzle. This time I got to ride with Bernie, but Cal was there too so we kept our hands to ourselves. Then, I was dunked into a cold bath as soon as I got to the castle. A man named Vinter scrubbed me clean of the sweat, and saltwater, and grime. He was not gentle, but I was grateful. Then it was into fine clothes. All the while Ara’alyne, Braelyn’s assistant, droned on about the important people I’d meet at the party.

I was rushed into a room with Braelyn, Rachel, Bernie, Cal, and Mark for lunch. On the table were sandwiches, tea, and buttery pastries. It was fantastic.

Mark, sipping tea as he paced, looked much like I remembered him. A man in his late thirties, he had a bit of male pattern baldness, but had kept very trim, his lanky frame well displayed by his shimmering blue robes. A huge gaudy red scarf, and tight leather belt cinched in his waist. A thin, patchy bit of stubble covered his chin, and crows feet crinkled around his pale green eyes.

When I got there, Rachel, Bernie, and Braelyn were already embroiled in a heated discussion about the source of Caleb’s Strife Among the Stars, and a certain divisive character in particular.

“Look,” Rachel said as I walked in, “he was made specifically because JJ was accessing his greatest fears. As a kid his greatest fear was ‘what if my dad was evil.’ But as an adult it’s ‘what if despite my best intentions, my son was evil.’”

“Yeah. And the evil makes him kinda hot,” Bernie said.

“I mean he’s a petulant, whiney nepo-baby,” Rachel said, “who has all the opportunity in the world to do the right thing, and chose not to.”

“Right, and then I get to cure him with my magic vagina,” Bernie countered.

“Abusive men are real,” Braelyn said, “It’s a bizarre fantasy.”

“The bad men aren’t the fantasy,” Bernie explained. “They’re common. But being able to change them, or them wanting to change, that’s the fantasy.”

“I don’t get it,” I said, grabbing a pastry. I wasn’t sure I could handle anything heavier. Too nervous.

“That tracks,” Bernie said, with a laugh.

The other girls laughed too.

“And I can't believe all the hubbub over Caleb’s fanfiction,” Mark said.

I felt my blood pressure rise.

“It’s a truly transformative creative pastiche Mark,” I replied.

Mark scrunched up his face in annoyance.

“I don’t get it either,” Cal said.

“Thank you!” Mark said with a laugh.

“People need something to occupy their days that isn’t misery, of course they’d love Strife,” Rachel said.

“What do you even do in your tower all day?” I asked, unable to stop myself.

“Ah, working on important mystical projects,” he replied. “And teaching the next generation of wizards.” His hands went into his pocket and he pulled out a slate, “Oh, shoot! Here is one now. Give me a moment.”

As he typed away on his slate, I turned to Braelyn.

“How are preparations for Caleb’s security detail?” I asked.

“They’re already at the Opera House, going over final steps. We’ll have elven snipers in the rafters, and knights at every entrance and exit. Plus, we’ll be there too.”

“What about Caleb’s sons?” I asked.

“They have the finest weapons, armor, and training already. And Mark did us the favor of procuring a teleportation scroll in case he is unable to cast one.”

“You can’t cast one yourself?” I asked.

Braelyn stiffened, and adjusted her glasses.

“I am quite proficient with a vast array of magical spells, but that particular spell is in an area of study that happens to be outside my purview.”

“She means,” Mark said, pocketing his slate, “that she spends as much time on castle politics as she does magical research. Unlike her, my status as a recluse affords me a bunch more time for the full spectrum of magical study.”

“There is that,” Braelyn said, cutting a sly smile to Mark.

She seemed to be taking the insult in stride, but I was reminded why nobody liked Mark. It was the smug superiority. And the man could use some tact.

“I gotta run,” Bernie cut in. She smiled at me. “As much as I’d love to stick around, I should see if I can’t scoop a last minute clue as to where the attack will come from.”

“The Elven Delegation still sequestered in the embassy?”

“For now,” she said. “But someone is bound to leave a window open.”

“Be careful,” I pleaded.

“I will,” she said.

Bernadette kissed me on the cheek, and left.

“I should leave too,” Rachel said.

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And suddenly, lunch was over.

I hardly remember the rest of the day, but I was shoved into my shiny new armor — breastplate, greaves, and bracers over full length chainmail. It was light and easy to move in, but a little warm and stuffy. Not bad in the cold and drafty castle though. The clouds hung heavy out the window, and the rain refused to let up. Then a quick carriage ride, and I was at the Opera House.

They ushered me in through a side entrance, past three checkpoints, and into the brand new theater. I wished I was able to remember the play. The music was nice, and fights were good, but I found it hard to concentrate. I think there was some big twist with the main character’s heritage?

After, I followed the crowd into the ballroom.

It was filled with people. The whole place shimmered with light from a series of chandeliers at the edges of the room. The ceiling was a dome that sat on a ring of colored stained glass windows that faintly glowed with the last trace of the day. Candelabras reached above the folk that mingled, and talked in low voices, and sent long shadows in their wake.

It was too dark. And the rain too loud. I had a sick feeling in my stomach.

I found Rachel. She didn’t wear a dress, but a beautiful black suit. Her magic belt complemented it well.

“Where’s Caleb?” I asked.

Rachel grabbed my arm, and directed me across the ballroom to a group of people. I noticed Braelyn first, wrapped in a beautiful green gown that complimented her elven physique well. She talked to a young man in plate armor. Next to him was a boy in a pale blue cloak and dark brown leathers.

“Breznik,” Braelyn said upon seeing me, “these are Princes of the Blade,” she then motioned to first the young man in plate, then the boy in leathers, “my Lords Pelas, and Fala’alander.”

Caleb’s sons. The youngest was dressed as an elven ranger. I wondered what Cal thought about that. The elder one was the one who had rushed back to see his wife. Word around the castle was that the duchess was stable, but not yet recovered. He can’t have been taking this well, but here he was.

“Just Fala,” the young one said, smiling brightly.

“Of course,” I said. “Nice to finally meet you.” I shook his hand and then the other’s. “And Pelas, I’ve heard much about you.”

Pelas smiled curtly, and his handshake was firm. In truth, I hadn’t heard much about him at all. Xander was the eldest, and favored son. Some word around the castle was that Pelas had taken to Paladin training well, but that was only in relation to Xander, who apparently excelled in the extreme. People saw much of his father in Xander.

I imagined it was hard to stand out in this family.

“I’m sure you have,” he said rotely. “I heard that I have you to thank for the capture of my wife’s poisoner. I am grateful for it.”

That’s right. Caleb had kept the involvement of Princess Mia hush hush. Apparently even from his own sons. They’d pinned the poisoning solely on the actor Benoit.

“Eh,” I waved his complement off, “I mostly just succeeded in getting captured. It was all your dad.”

“Ah, then I rescind my thanks,” he said.

I laughed, nervously. Pelas smiled grimly.

“What did you think about the play?” Fala interjected.

We talked about the play for a bit. The shinesword fights were a hit with just about everyone.

Thunder rumbled behind the conversation.

Xander approached. The conversation didn’t die, but his brothers immediately gave him space to talk. If there was any resentment for his place in the family, it didn’t show.

Though only a few inches taller than me, Xander stood as if a giant. His armor gleamed black and gold in the candlelight. That could be where the Black Knight appellate had come from. Or I guess they could have been referring to his skin color.

He smiled in a way that told me he knew how much he looked like his father.

My brain buzzed with static. Xander said things, but I hardly heard them. I knew something was about to go very wrong. But what was I supposed to do?

Bernadette was at my arm, she took it into hers.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” I responded.

She wore her silksteel armor, but had gussied it up with a smart vest and a half cape. She had her daggers here and there, but only her best ones. Fascinator was pinned to her cape. She looked nice, but not as nice as our date last night. Somehow, that made the memory of it better.

Her smile, and her touch seeped the tension from me.

“You okay?” she whispered.

“I’m fine,” I said. “You look nice.”

“Of course I do. I like your suit. The one last night was better.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Learn anything?”

“Nothing actionable,” she replied curtly, switching into business mode. “They’re looking for us,” Bernie’s eyes scanned the crowd as she talked. “But if they were planning something for tonight, I’d expect chatter about it. Or at least less elven soldiers at the embassy, meaning they weren't off talking somewhere else. There were lots of elves there. This isn’t adding up.”

I gave an indistinct noise. Braelyn approached, and Bernie filled her in too.

“This is disquieting,” the elven woman said.

“Right,” I said.

“Wait. You hear that?” Bernie asked.

“Hear what?” I answered.

“The rain.”

“What rain?”

“Yeah,” she said, “that’s what I meant. The rain stopped.”

A gasp shuddered through the crowd. I turned to see the commotion.

Men and women gave her a wide berth, and she parted them as she approached.

“Where’s Caleb?” she asked.

I was the first to answer.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Did I miss the play?” Sofia asked.

She wore a stunning black dress that scintillated like a beetle's wing, with gloves that went up to her mid bicep. Her pale white skin shone from her shoulders and neck. Her hair was a beautiful, intricate silver plait down her back.

Damn, she had a nice clavicle.

“Don’t do this,” I pleaded.

“Do what?” she asked, cool blue eyes smiling mischievously.

“What did these people ever do to you?”

“Who is this?” Pelas asked.

“The Sorceress,” Xander said.

“Dad’s nemesis?” Fala asked. “The one that —”

Pelas drew his sword, and stepped a single step toward Sofia.

“Don’t!” I heard myself shout.

Sofia’s eyes flashed with purple fire, and she snapped her fingers. Pelas’s back arched in pain, he dropped his sword, and he seemed to lock up. His face contorted.

“Rude,” she admonished.

Caleb, and Queen Cerelia walked out of the crowd. So too, did an armored Captain Wen.

“He didn’t mean —” I started to say.

“I know what he meant,” Sofia said, cutting me off.

“What did these people ever do to you?” I asked.

“They refuse to submit to the will of the Queen.”

“You mean, they refuse to submit to you,” Bernadette accused.

“What do you mean?” I asked, but I already knew the answer as soon as I asked it.

“This is Queen Tenenbria,” Xander announced.

Sofia’s smile was wider than I had ever seen her smile. She grabbed her skirts, and did a tiny little curtsy.

“Holy shit,” Rachel said. “It finally makes sense.”

Caleb’s hand was on the sword at his back, but so too was Captain Wen’s on her sword. Nobody made a move yet.

It did make sense. Suddenly the reason why Caleb and Queen Tenenbria had been at war for such a long time was crystal clear. Caleb couldn’t kill Sofia. Whatever had happened between them, he couldn’t just kill her. And if he did, would we be able to go home?

Wait. No he could. The quest — the quest the DM had written in our slates. We had to kill the Queen of Darkness. Sofia was the Queen of Darkness. I couldn’t do that. Could I?

And Caleb had been playing this game, this game of kings and knights, and Sofia was playing her own game, and neither of them could make a move on each other directly. They’d been at war for thirty years.

Except, now she was here.

Mark, fucking Mark, circled the crowd, inching closer to us. I wondered if he knew all of this already. Had Caleb told him?

“You don’t have to do this,” I said again. “These people aren’t soldiers. They’re just here for a show.”

“Oh,” Sofia replied darkly, “but the show hasn’t even started yet.”

Two more knights of the word stepped out of the crowd. How had they gotten here? Magic? Probably magic.

Caleb’s knights, I could tell by the pale blue capes, started to line up next to him. Good. When shit popped off, his aura could support them.

How do I keep this from popping off?

Should I try charming her?

“You want to be my friend,” I said, waving my hand for the somatic component.

Sofia’s laughter rang out.

“A charm spell?” she asked. “Oh Zachary, you’re so cute.”

Then, it did indeed pop off.

Bernadette pulled Fascinator, her cape fluttering to the ground, and it grew to its full size. Sofia flew up half a foot and back several feet, just outside the reach of Bernie’s swipe. Captain Wen yelled, and drew her sword. Caleb drew his, and they immediately clashed.

Small, two foot wide explosions rippled across the floor. Guards surged in.

Sofia licked her index finger. She flicked her wrist, and a sword very much like the one she had shown me that night at the lake appeared in her hand in a flash of purple flame.

Skeletons crawled from the holes in the floors. They all had weapons. Immediately, they set upon the party guests, blood flying. The guards fought back. There just wasn’t enough of them. Bodies began to pile up by the second.

Sofia pulled a mote of purple fire from her sword, and she was just about to launch it, when it dissipated. Mark held his hand in the air, evidence of his counterspell. Sofia flew higher.

I drew my sword, Redeemer, and cut the head from a skeleton. Pelas stood next to me, finally free from the paralyzing spell, his sword in his hands.

Me, Rachel, and Bernadette put one of Caleb’s kids to each of our sides. The skeletons kept coming. We needed to hold them off until Mark or Braelyn could get that teleportation circle up.

How the hell were we going to do that? We seemed royally screwed.