My time in Triumph Square is a delicate little dance, trying to make sure I remain unseen by Her Highness, but still close enough to keep an eye on her. I have no idea why she's out here, but I intend to keep her safe no matter what... Even from myself, hence my skulduggery. I flit from shop to shop, greengrocer to greengrocer, buying small parts of my little list at a time, and finding that at each stall, Katarina seems to be angrily growling at the vegetables, genuinely offended by their existence. This dance is a bit awkward, but it is working for my two current goals…

But it fails a third one, as Pasche gently grabs my hand to stop me from wandering again. "Serena? What's going on, you're acting weird. Alarmingly weird."

I run a thumb over the back of her hand, but I doubt she can feel it through her chainmail gloves, or that she'd believe me even if she could. "I'm fine, Pasche. I just-"

"I may not know anything about grocery shopping, but I do know you well enough to know when something is troubling you..." Pasche squeezes a little tighter, before seemingly remembering her gloves and loosening considerably. "... It's not me, is it-"

"No! No no no, Mademoiselle Pasche I am delighted you are here, I truly am!" My eyes slip past her to find Her Highness finish with one market stall and start turning this way. "I just..."

If I pray to the Gods to get me out of this predicament, will I somehow end up with worse? What could be worse than this?

Distressingly, I find my answer in the form of the crack of muskets, sudden smoke from the periphery of the stalls... The sound of screaming and hurried footsteps. As it turns out, the Gods don't need my prayers at all. They are perfectly willing to make everything worse all on their own. Pasche and I cast our eyes to the source of the screams, only to find screams coming from behind us as well, and in three other directions soon after. The noises come from all five entrances to Triumph Square. We've been boxed in. And through the smoke I can see that we have been boxed in by Greenjackets, each with their nasty-looking, scalpel-sharp ‘Leather’ bayonets.

I quickly ran to where Xena took cover, where Katarina stood tall in her defense, determined to get an explanation for this. "Katarina?! They look like your people, what is going on here?!"

Katarina shakes her head, mumbling something in German, slipping a few words of Avernian into her foreign gibberish. "Not me, not mine."

Xena's eyes go wide, she seems genuinely afraid for the first time since I met her. Quickly, she rushes off to start taking things from nearby stalls, complicated things in glass bottles that I don't understand, along with things like paint, citrus fruits... This is not the time to have a meltdown, this is the time for explanations!

"Xena?! What did Katarina say?!" I wish I could restrain my voice, but anything that genuinely terrifies Xena is enough to almost kill me with fright.

"... It's a family reunion." She speaks delicately, almost inaudibly quiet, before getting to mixing things.

And right on cue, the Wolfman enters Triumph Square. The man, the... Thing that shambles awkwardly down the cobblestone streets into the market is almost nine feet tall, wears nothing other than an entire bloodline of stitched-together wolves, and drags a titanic scythe behind him. Sparks follow behind him as the scythe scrapes along the cobbles, small things but almost hypnotic and transfixing. And by his side are vicious Greenjackets, eager to join their brothers and sisters in the mayhem of the square.

One such Greenjacket approaches us, eager to carve us into meat, his smile twisted with glee... Until his lips are cut in half with the rest of his head as Katarina brings her halberd down upon him, splitting him like firewood.

The unfortunate mercenary falls to the ground as Katarina pulls her halberd free, returning quickly to Xena's side, being her very own brave and noble knight... Katarina destroyed the man’s head entirely. To destroy someone's head is anathema, the head is where spiritual power is stored. It's an old tradition, but Katarina is full of old traditions! ... Whatever this is, it has her scared too.

I realize I'm squeezing Pasche's hand so tightly now that I'm at risk of breaking my hand, and I slowly slip away from her, mentally preparing myself to do something very, very stupid. "... I have to get her out of here..."

Pasche, equally terrified, tries to reach for my hand again, but I pull mine away, leaving her as confused as she is afraid. "I... I need to get you out of here, not the other way around! You don't even have a sword, and I'm your-"

"Her Highness is in danger! I need to save her!" I find myself shouting shrilly, the growing smoke on the wind makes my voice feel harsh and sharp.

"Wait, she is? ... Wait, why do we even care?"

"Because I'm her brave and noble knight, I swore an oath! ... And your general Serena is not someone who goes back on her oaths, is she?"

"I don't give a fuck about oaths! I am getting you out of here-"

Another musket shot, and Pasche winces before drawing her saber and turning to face the mercenary who fired at her... And who hit, an obvious little hole in the back of her cuirass has already begun bleeding. Still, Pasche charges forth, slashing her would-be murderer across the gut, spilling his insides over the cobbles... To my shame, this is the perfect opportunity to get away from her, to go to Her Highness and do... Something. Anything to help really. Her Highness is taking cover behind a nearby stall while her guards fight off any Greenjackets who dare come near. At least her guards are competent…

But that can't save them from The Wolfman.

As the monster approaches Her Highness the four guards all fire upon him at once, and every shot strikes true. It’s enough to push him back a single step... Before he keeps moving forward, barely even bleeding from the new constellation of lead upon his chest. Two of the guards rush him with their bayonets, clearly hoping that skewering the thing will produce better results. Their heads fall upon the cobbles before they can even make contact, the scythe swings so quickly that it can’t even be seen with the naked eye. Her Highness' other two guards, shaken by the thing they only half saw, drop their muskets and run for their lives. Both of them are professional soldiers, and they have just reached the limits of military discipline. And having left Her Highness all alone, as the Wolfman approached where she hid.

I don't have a musket, or a sword, or much of anything to fight off a creature so brimming with violence. All I have is a bag full of produce... But I made an oath to be a brave and noble knight, I never swore an oath to be a smart one. I reach into my grocery bag and throw a tomato at the creature's head, maybe if I draw his attention to me he'll leave Her Highness alone.

I did not expect him to recoil in horror. With a shriek that could probably collapse a building, he slashes off the canopy of a nearby market stall, using it to wipe any trace of the plant matter from around his lips, looking genuinely quite ill... He’s Katarina's kin, isn't he? I guess her aversion to vegetables must run in the family.

Either way, this gives me some time. Time to rush forward and grab one of the cowardly guards' discarded muskets, and Her Highness' hand. She looks up at me with wide, tear-stained eyes, but the moment my hand takes hers she stops crying and quaking, and simply gazes at me with awe.

"S... Sir Serena?"

I wish I could be dashing and gallant right now. "W... We have to get out of here!"

"R... Right!"

I pull her to her feet, dragging her through the market square. I’m not sure where I can even take her, but I’m certain that it won't be right here. Right here is where the Wolfman is regaining his murderous composure, making right here a very bad place to be. At this point the powder smoke has grown thick, making it difficult to see what’s ahead of me. The very world around us is twisting and mutating, making its transformation into the world of violence. A world isolated, alone, and brimming with murderous intent. I realize I'm sprinting through spilled blood, and running forth I find a Greenjacket taking his sweet time with a peasant woman. He is cutting off her arm by inches at a time, cackling with each new scream. He hasn't noticed me yet, too consumed in his little game. I've never used a bayonet in my life, but I can at least figure out how to stab the man in the back. With a clumsy thrust, he stops cackling and falls to the cobbles, joining that peasant woman. I might never know if this woman lives or not, but at least she’ll be in less pain.

I hear steel scraping against cobbles behind us, becoming a wet sound as its source drags along the spilled blood in the square. In a panic I push over one of the market stalls, leading Her Highness through the new path I've made for us. In the next row of stalls I find one of Katarina's disguised butchers, having slit the throat of an opposing Greenjacket. She’s laid him atop a canopy with his head dangling limp down the side. It’s not the most efficient way of draining the man of blood, but in hell you work with what you have. The butcher smiles at me, gesturing at the corpse with her cleaver as if to offer me my preferred cut.

"R... Run! Wolf!" I barely manage to squeeze the words out. I'm not certain she even understands them, but I figure Katarina would appreciate giving her people some advance warning.

Behind us we hear crunching wood and the scraping of steel, the Wolfman seems to have stolen my idea... And is still firmly chasing us as his prey. The butcher turns, seeing the silhouette of a hellish beast, giant and terrible, in the smoke. A Thing that can’t possibly be human. And she charges, jumping high and bringing her cleaver down upon the Thing’s neck. A brave and noble gesture, but not a smart one, and certainly not one we are going to stick around to see the aftermath of. I cannot outrun the noise though, the sound of snapping bone and squelching meat… She doesn’t live long enough to scream.

Her Highness and I are sprinting now, not eager to have whatever just happened to that butcher happen to us. But sprinting to where? … I know I absolutely shouldn't pray to the Pentatheon to find a safe place... But what if I pray to Her Majesty? I close my eyes a moment, a split second, begging her to show me the way forward. And the smoke clears for just a moment to reveal the clock tower overlooking the square.

Her Highness can hide in there! At least until the gendarmes arrived, she could bar the door from any Greenjackets and I can keep The Wolfman busy. With my first bit of hope since the smoke bathed the square I lead Her Highness towards the tower, and try to ignore the feeling of acid in my veins and my painfully shallow gasps for air...

A Greenjacket stands between us and the belltower, one who is playing with her food a little, carving little shapes in the back of a corpse with her bayonet. She stops upon our approach and grins, two new canvasses just presented themselves to her. I slip my hand free of Her Highness' and charge, bayonet out and ready.

... I know my arm is still attached to me, I don't think it could hurt this badly if it wasn't. As I feel the steel tip of my bayonet pierce the Greenjacket my left shoulder screams in pain, her 'Leather’ bayonet slicing through my flesh as easily as water flows.

I swear I feel it wedged against my bones. My body shakes as I try to process what just happened to me. I have been carved. I always knew this could happen to me, I always knew I was in danger, but only after something lands a blow does one truly understand what it means to have a fellow human intend to kill you. I'm shocked in place, frozen here. The woman is still dying at the end of my bayonet, I am still suffering at the end of hers…

Her Highness pulls the blade from out of my shoulder, grabbing my hand again to pull me away from this eternal instant. She leads me towards the clock tower, apparently thinking much the same as me, but not willing to hide in the tower alone... The sound of shattering cobbles behind us quickens our feet, only growing faster as we approach safety. The once-shambling Thing behind us is ramping up to a sprint. I wish I hadn't, but I look back to see The Wolfman emerge from the smoke, now smiling in a way only a monster can smile, its teeth more those of a shark than a human being. It raises its scythe slowly this time, savoring the moment it finally kills us both.

A halberd slams its way into The Wolfman’s chest, causing it to stop in place and turn to face another monstrous figure in the smoke. The Thing speaks in German, and the other figure who must be Katarina answers. Her Highness pulls me into the clock tower just as the primal, visceral screaming begins.

Her Highness bars the door behind us, and with us notionally being safe for the moment I slump to the ground, holding my arm and wincing... I mustn't cry. Brave and noble knights do not cry. And I have my princess here, removing a ribbon from her hair and wrapping it around my wound.

It’s an utterly pathetic bandage, but it is at least a comfort that anyone would care. "T... Thank you-"

"You saved me!" Her Highness... Theophania is still out of breath, still coughing out the worst of the smoke, and yet her voice sounds so utterly enchanted. "My guards couldn't save me with guns and bayonets but you... You did it all on your own!"

"W... Well. That's just what a brave and noble knight-"

"I could've sworn you were all talk, an admittedly fun charmer, a court jester at best. But you... You're the genuine fucking article!" I recoil just a little, I didn't expect a princess to use words like that. "You… You really are Sir Serena!"

"I... I do my best-"

"You really are MY Sir Serena! ... This is actually happening; it's really coming true for me!" She struggles with another coughing fit, hacking up her lungs in between excited, manic giggles.

I reach out my injured arm and pat her back, but the effort produces nothing but intense agony. "You uhh... Are you okay, Your Highness?"

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"I'm fine, I'm-" She gives another few hacking coughs before she manages to get some measure of control again. "I'm fine, and I'm your Princess Theophania now. None of that 'Your Highness' bullshit like you're some solicitor, some social climber. Hehehe, I'm someone's princess now!"

"I mean... Aren't you technically everyone's princess?" I'm probably bleeding too profusely for this question to be a priority, but the girl in my midst is honestly a little unhinged.

"Hehe... I'm nobody's anything, Sir Serena. Ever since Charles was born and I was no longer heir apparent, literally no one has wanted anything to do with me! People speak to me because they want something from my father, they speak to me when they want me to say something to my brother, the real heir apparent by virtue of allegedly being male. Even father only sees the alliance he might get from selling me off to some man I've never met. Someone likely to be a boring old fuck who has never even dreamed of fighting a dragon!" I swallow audibly, realizing just how similar our circumstances once were, and just how differently those circumstances have treated us. "But you... You would fight a dragon just for me! Not for my father, not for my brother, not for some stupid political alliance, some lines on a map! ... It's me you're here for. Right, Sir Serena? ... I'm your princess, aren't I?"

... Well, I can honestly tell her that I have no interest in her dad or her brother... I briefly consider the option of bleeding to death in this clock tower. It’s certainly easier than telling a half-lie or giving the sordid, unvarnished truth. I made an oath to be her brave and noble knight, and in no fairy tales did the brave and noble knight want to do unspeakable, blasphemous things to the princesses' mother. And a fairy tale is what this woman wants, isn't it? ... Maybe I can use that.

"I made my oath, to serve you and see you, to be your brave and noble knight... But are you sure you want a knight as pathetic as me? I mean, look at me, bleeding like a pig before you, ruining your ribbons."

"It is admittedly a little painful to see you hurt like this and to see the great and heroic combats of the stories up close. Usually, the tales gloss over that kind of thing to get to the mushy stuff. But... Getting to attend to my brave and noble knight like this has its own appeals, its own charms! Hehe, getting to have you at my mercy for a bit, while I contribute of course!"

I feel my wound scream, as if giving its own counterargument to the relatively pathetic 'attendance' the princess managed. But that's hardly her fault, she isn't exactly a priestess of Cotton or anything. She is a pampered, lonely royal who... Just so happens to look a lot like my goddess. She's looking at me expectantly now, as if she has effortlessly parried any objection to our little fairy tale.

"B... But also... I am a woman, that must be considered. There has never been a fairy tale about a woman knight and a woman princess, has there? I'm certainly no stranger to being... Bent, but surely Her Highness-"

"Princess Theophania." Her cheer breaks for only a second for her to scold me, the terminology seems to be a very strict point with her.

"Surely Princess Theophania would prefer a more... Traditional fairy tale romance?"

"I genuinely couldn't care less. No fairy tale has had the stupid politics of our stupid age, nor muskets with bayonets, or Conventions of Humanity, but I still put up with that stuff. Why would your gender be a sticking point? A princess should love her knight regardless of such ridiculous stipulations!"

Part of me thinks there's something wrong with Her Highness- Princess Theophania's argumentation there, that something is being left unsaid... But in my bleeding state it’s hard to catch it. "I… Uhhh-"

"You said you're no stranger to being bent yourself... What's all that about?" There's suspicion in her voice, but more that of uncovering buried treasure than that of uncovering lies and secrets.

"We... Well-"

She kisses me before I can finish. She kisses me incredibly inexpertly; the poor girl does not have a clue what she is doing. Fairy tales don't tend to go into much detail about such things, not even the most Velvet of them, so her knowledge of what to do seems to be rather incomplete. This is wrong, I need to stop this, I need to push her off me, return her ribbon, bleed out in this clock tower, and not drag my disgraceful self any further into the annals of history…

But when I close my eyes, I can almost believe she is Her Majesty... My tongue slips into her mouth, my working hand slithers its way into her hair, holding the back of her head... My wound bleeds gently onto her beautiful white dress, and the rhythmic sound of screams and musket shot outside threaten to spoil the mood.

If Princess Theophania can hear it then she absolutely doesn't care, slipping herself away from me and grinning madly, panting as if she’s finally breathing for the first time in years. "... Now what exactly was that, Sir Serena? Tell me exactly what that was, in lurid detail! Write it down so I can read it over and over and over again, tell me what that was!"

She's utterly giddy. I feel like my soul has been sucked out of my body. What in the hell have I done to this poor woman; she looks so happy. I'm a blasphemous, disgusting creature, doing blasphemous, disgusting things to the adoring daughter of the woman I love... Maybe there's some reason that this is okay, some explanation that could absolve me of my guilt. But my bleeding self can’t think of one.

She has not stopped looking at me, waiting for my answer on what I just did to her. What can I even say? I don't deserve it, of course, but I pray to Her Majesty that something, anything, will get me out of this.

"This is the Gendarmerie! Surrender now or we will open fire!"

... How does she keep doing it? Both moving Heaven and Lutice to save me and forgiving my horrible transgressions against her. I start to rise, sliding up the wall of the clock tower for support. The Gendarmerie doesn't know who the enemy is here, they're liable to just shoot everyone they can find. I need to tell them what to do, I need to-

"Sir Serena! You are hurt, please rest!" Princess Theophania reaches a hand to my one good shoulder, threatening to try and force me to the ground again.

"My... My friends are still out in that square. The gendarmes... They'll need to be instructed who the enemy is. You're safe, I've saved you. I need to save them."

"Friends?" Princess Theophania seems confused a moment, before trying a different strategy to keep me put, stroking my hair as I get to my feet. "I'm sure your friends will be okay. The gendarmes are here, they'll save everyone in the square. I’m sure they’d never hurt anyone innocent! … You've already done enough, and your Princess is here! You've earned some rest, and some... Attending to."

The emphasis she puts on those last words puts a shiver down my spine. To my horror, I doubt I'd be able to stop myself if she started something. She even smells like Her Majesty after all... And she's not a bad girl, just a desperate one. I limp towards the door, struggling to unbar it to let myself leave the clock tower, much to her dismay.

"Sir Serena! You... You're my knight! I'm here! You don't have to go anywhere!" Try as she might, desperation carries in her voice more than enchanted love and devotion.

I consider scolding her for a moment, trying to break this whole thing at the pass. It might genuinely be the healthiest option for all of us. She shouldn’t be shackled to loving a freak, a monster like me… But I can’t bring myself to break this beautiful something she has found, even if that beautiful something is me.

I turn my head and give her my most gallant smile before I leave. "I am your knight. And you deserve the best knight there ever was, for this unconventional fairy tale we're in. The best knight in the world wouldn't abandon her friends, would she?"

Something chokes up in Princess Theophania's voice, as if she’s about to start coughing again. "... Return to me, Sir Serena. Alive..."

"I promise... I need to return your ribbon, after all."

"Keep it as a badge of honor. Your Princess commands..." She mumbles those last few words, her resolve to let me leave might break any second.

I slip out the door and find the gendarmes pouring in from all five entrances, setting up firing lines. Their commander is a young-looking man with long, flowing brown hair and what I must assume someone else would think are gorgeous green eyes. And he seems about ready to shout another warning, as his men prepare to make good on his threats. If they all fire volleys into the smoky market square, who knows if anything within it will be spared.

I stumble my way to the commander, giving a salute with my still-working arm. "Gendarme commander! I am General Serena Pollineux, and the people in that smoke need your help."

The commander looks upon me as though I am a ghost, or some kind of cryptid, perhaps unfamiliar with the sight of a woman with wounds wrapped in ribbons. "... I see... Well, General Pollineux, some of the people in that square are causing quite the ruckus. I can't imagine that you expect me to risk my men trying to help them, correct?"

"There's still gunfire coming from inside there! The Greenjackets who started this fight still see fit to shoot at something, so clearly there are some civilians in there still who need rescuing! I know for a fact that some of my associates are still fighting in there, and I will not stand by and let good people, loyal to Avernia get shot by its very own gendarmes!" Admittedly this is something of a lie, Pasche and Katarina are loyal to me rather than Avernia, and Xena... Is Xena, but this man needn't know that.

"I appreciate that you have friends in there. I have friends among my men, and I'm not going to risk them going bayonet to bayonet in that smoke!"

"It's your duty to protect people!"

"It's my duty to protect Alesia."

This is going nowhere, I cast my magic upon him and all the gendarmes in attendance, that ought to get them to act heroically. I feel my spell take hold... And feel my entire body go cold, my wound feeling tighter and... Hungrier. Perhaps this is an entirely reasonable reaction to trying to tax my heart for magic while I struggle with a bleeding wound. I fall to my knees, trying to manage this new, profound agony... And the gendarmes charge into the square, ready to save the civilians even if it kills them. My power is working... I try to struggle to my feet, but the pain simply will not allow me to do so... I crawl forward with my one good arm, I have to make sure Pasche and the others are okay.

Wandering back into the smoke submerges me in a feeling of intense dread. I am consciously choosing to return where people cannot live, crossing the threshold into a world alien to the one of human beings. It still causes a little apprehension, no matter how many times I’ve done it. I scramble my way through the market stalls, smoke in my eyes and spilled blood all over my hands. I have to struggle to breathe as little as possible, there is nothing worth breathing here. As my vision begins to slowly fill with tears I see a figure in the distance, and I crawl closer to see if they are a friend…

It's a blonde young woman, dressed like an Icenian gentleman ready for an opera. And she appears to be looking at paintings, leisurely taking her time, considering them closely. After some umming and erring, she picks one seemingly at random, taking out a small knife and carving it delicately from its frame, hiding it under her cloak... I must have bled too much, that must be what is happening here. My brain is simply making nonsense of the things it’s seeing in its final moments, starved of air and blood. I am simply breaking three different oaths is all, what I am seeing clearly isn't happening.

My vision of the woman is broken as a Greenjacket flies past my eyes. By the time he hits the ground, a bleeding wound on his forehead, the well-dressed art thief is gone from the world... I turn my attention to more important things, like where that Greenjacket just flew in from. I turn my head and am greeted by the sight of Pasche on the ground, atop what appears to be an officer among the Alemannian mercenaries, hitting them over and over and over again. With the chainmail in her gloves. Every punch Pasche gave is definitely lethal... And yet she doesn't stop, even when the bones begin to crack and the blood starts staining her white gloves red. I crawl my way over to her, and reach out to tap her shoulder, allowing myself to collapse onto the ground without my working arm to support me. She turns, about ready to throw another punch…

And then she starts to cry. "S... Serena?! ... Where the hell were you?!"

"Being... A brave and noble-" I can't even finish my spiel before Pasche pulls my body upwards into a sitting position, one where I can be at her eye level.

"You... You just disappeared! I was so scared! I went looking for you, and all I found were these fucking cannibals! I thought you were already gone! ... I thought I'd failed you."

I look down and notice a few more holes in her cuirass, the poor girl seems to be having as bad a time of this as I am. "... I had to save the Princess... I'm sorry."

"I don't... I don't understand you sometimes. You tell me not to get myself shot for you, and then you risk your life completely unarmed to save some woman we don't even know! ... It's very you, but in an infuriating way rather than a cute one!"

"Oh, and good job not getting shot!" Somehow my voice manages to rise from 'one foot in the grave' to merely 'mauled and suffocating', I was not expecting to have to fight my second-best friend in this damn smoke.

"I leave you alone for five minutes and you have three whole new bullet wounds! All of which are because you were trying to find me, so they're all my fault too, aren't they?!"

"Oh, as if you care! You ran off for your little princess the moment the opportunity arose, who cares about little old Pasche?!"

"I care! I wouldn't be angry if I didn't care. I wouldn't be worried if I didn't care. I wouldn't have dragged myself back into the smoke if I didn't care!"

"Yeah, well... I'd have dragged myself back for you too, you jerk!"

Tension holds only a moment longer, before Pasche hurriedly hugs me, and I reciprocate as best my working arm will allow. I feel the jagged metal of her pierced cuirass, I feel the warmth seeping out of her bleeding wounds... I feel her care... And I feel a tear roll down her cheek onto my head.

"Pasche..."

"I just… I don’t want to lose you. Not ever. Never ever ever. I won’t lose someone else I care about again, I won’t allow it."

"... I know you care, Pasche. I love that you care." Something about saying so feels slimy, like a lie... But it isn't a lie, is it?

Pasche manages to stop her crying with that awkward little admission, and rises to her feet, helping me along with her. She hooks her arms under mine to lift me, and I scream in agony as the wound on my left arm begs for relief that simply is not here. Pasche finally notices the wound, and almost recoils from me in shock.

"They... They got your arm?!"

"Almost..."

"Why the fuck is there a ribbon tied to it?!"

"Princess Theophania wanted to help."

"She what- ... She's what?"

"Her Highness wanted to help."

Pasche didn't have a lot of time to consider the implications of me being on a first-name basis with the Princess of our nation for very long, as a rather rough-looking Katarina flew through a bunch of market stalls right by us, hitting the cobble street with enough force to crack the stones.

And walking through the new gap in the market stalls is a slowly appearing vision of hell. Even through the smoke, I can tell the Wolfman is dripping with blood, its red-soaked form entering Pasche and I's vision. Upon seeing me again it smiles its inhuman smile. Pasche draws her saber to protect me from the Thing that rules this smoke-coated world. Her saber is broken, it had snapped in half in the time she was alone. She steps forward, putting herself between me and the Wolfman. She is about to be decapitated, just like Theophania's guards. And this time, I don't have any tomatoes to throw.

But Xena seems to have her own solution to this problem, throwing a glass bottle at the Wolfman’s chest. Going by the sizzling, crackling noise that accompanies the glass bottle breaking against the Thing's skin, it seems her solution was a chemical one. A second bottle follows that one, and a third, Xena is pelting the monster with her latest creation. Its flesh starts to melt, sliding off its body in chunks, revealing muscle tissue that looks wholly unhuman, and ribs that are elongated and thick. The Thing recoils with every new bottle... And then the bottles run out. And the Thing breathes, before charging straight at Xena, no longer smiling. It leaps at her, jaws wide and teeth razor sharp, aiming right for her throat.

It stops in midair as Katarina dives at it and intercepts it in mid-air, punching through exposed, half-melted bone and reaching for the Thing's heart, crushing it between her fingers. The two of them fell into a heap on the ground right beside Xena, but only one of them rose from it. Katarina slowly gets to her feet, utterly covered in cuts and bruises, with a broken hand and a tattered and slashed bearskin... Looking down at the Thing which had stalked and terrified us, it now appears pathetic and inert upon the cobbles of the street... Katarina speaks a few words to the blood-soaked corpse, before turning her attention fully to Xena, doting on her as best as she can with her own obvious wounds.

"Playtime's over... Farewell, brother." Pasche mutters to herself so softly that I'm not even sure if I’m supposed to hear it.

And as the gendarmes approach, my last thought before my consciousness fades is wondering where Pasche learned German...