A blade slammed into the wooden counter, digging deep into the solid surface as its wielder grinned madly. The man was rather proud of his blades, and loved to demonstrate them in the most destructive of ways, much to the delight of those watching. Some of the other shops were pansy asses about things, insisting you couldn’t handle a blade until you bought it, or winced when you tried a swing.
Not this shop.
It wasn’t often that something like this came along anymore, especially given the state of the world at large. People had to take solace in whatever brought them comfort, which was exactly what she was doing! Some might call it silly, but it was her vice of choice and she could honestly say it was better than drugs.
“Next.”
She hesitantly stepped forward, pushing an errant strand of red hair out of her eyes before adjusting her glasses. When that failed to calm her nerves, Nicole began to fidget with the leather bracer on her left wrist, the nervous habit of rubbing the scar beneath it proving difficult to shake even when covered.
“Uh, pickup for Nicole Hayes, I have a custom piece to uh… pick up,” Nicole finished, lamely.
The girl behind the counter wasn’t much older than Nicole, maybe nineteen or twenty. She looked as though she had walked off the set of the latest pirate movie, with a heavy longcoat covered in red accent pieces tied off with a belt at her waist. Her blonde hair was up in a ponytail under a red bandana, and a leather pirate’s tricorne topped things off. The only real difference from a traditional pirate ensemble was the steel axe slung over her back.
Pirate drip was a phrase that Nicole was trying very hard to avoid in her own mind and brought back memories of her own first viewing of the Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy. Especially with how tan her skin was.
“Oh yeah, it’s ready cutie, love the accent by the by,” the girl said. Nicole’s cheeks warmed at compliments, especially from someone so far out of her league. Especially when her own southern accent was just sublime. “Chuck, gotta run back to grab that custom job.”
“Make it quick, Grace,” the man answered. “We’re kinda swamped here.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Grace said, waving him off. “Won’t be but a moment.”
Grace smiled, then winked, turning Nicole into a blushing mess as the woman ducked back through a curtain to where she knew they kept the overstock blades and custom orders. Nicole was left fidgeting with one of the strings of her own outfit, a custom black leather duster set with leather bracers, jerkin and boots to match. All that was missing was just beyond the curtain, and she’d had to wait far too long to get it due to age restrictions on purchases.
Nicole was fresh out of high school herself, officially a college girl and attending the Anoka-Ramsey Community College. She’d lived in Minneapolis all her life, and out of her admittedly limited choices for college after her failure, she ended up liking the campus there the best. Nicole didn’t have much money to her name, what with how life insurance treated deaths to the invaders following the early days of the war.
Damn Supreme Court decisions…
That didn’t stop her from attending the Renaissance Faire, she’d been going ever since she could remember because her parents were massive nerds like that and it had honestly rubbed off on her. She’d been working on an outfit to wear for the last two years, and finally she could legally purchase the finishing touch.
The blades.
She’d been working with the smith through email for months, a local partner of the traveling shop, making sure all the little touches were just right, and now they were ready. The woman returned with a wooden case and a grin on her face. The owner himself had even paused his presentation with one of the other Renfaire attendees to watch the unboxing, phone in hand, to make sure he could record it.
Nicole hesitantly lifted the lid and beheld the blades within. The silver shine of good steel greeted her, curved ever so slightly and laced with an intricate damascus pattern. She’d based them off of the Kukri, but with a few of her own touches, like how the blade handles were wrapped in black leather instead of the usual chord. Each handle held a single black opal, which refracted the light beautifully.
It was just what she needed to perfect her rogue ensemble.
She’d even had custom scabbards for them made, and arranged for them to be presented with the blades. She gingerly lifted the twin daggers from the case, handling them with the deserved reverence. She gave them a practiced twirl, the balance allowing her to do so with ease. A flick of the wrist and she slashed forward, the imaginary throat slit before her. So easy to handle, and a far cry from the cheap stainless steel pair she’d been practicing with for years.
They were perfect.
“I think she likes them,” the smith said. Nicole blushed, quickly putting the blades away into their scabbards before working to secure them to her belt. “As you can see, these beautiful blades were forged and prepared by Minneapolis’ very own local rising star, Grace Evans and built to our standards! All our blades carry a lifetime guarantee. We challenge you to break our blades, because we sure as hell try.”
He held the camera on her expectantly, and Nicole sighed, reaching back to one of the blades, drew it in a practiced flourish, and slammed it point first into the wooden table.
“Now isn’t that just a beautiful sight,” he said with a grin. “Never know when you might need to stab an alien bastard, and our blades are up to the task!”
Nicole chuckled awkwardly as he ended the recording.
Most people didn’t like to talk about that, it was considered bad luck to bring up what was on the horizon, and Minneapolis was still lacking its own defenders. Even St. Louis had a team for fuck’s sake! Three ‘minor’ attacks, and nobody had been chosen, or however it actually worked. Their city had weathered the storm all the same, even if her family hadn’t.
That first attack still stuck out in her mind, it was the day the world learned they weren’t alone in the universe. The day the Sylan invaded. They came in massive ships straight out of a Hollywood blockbuster and deployed foot drones of all things. Bipedal machines that alone were actually something a person could survive, but they never came alone.
They deployed by the thousands.
Nearest scientists could figure, or at least release to the public, they were mass produced shock troopers meant to soften targets in a way that didn’t invite nuclear response. The ships stayed just in range of major population centers and occasionally tested the waters. There were even running theories that the ships were unmanned save for the biological abominations that were periodically released and the handful of generals that sometimes deployed to face an entrenched target.
Nicole just didn’t have it in her to care, not after her parents had died in the last incursion a year prior. She shook those thoughts away and stowed her blade, giving a rather curt thanks as she left the shop, much to Grace’s seeming confusion. Just randomly blurting that your life was upended by the invaders wasn’t something she wanted to do to complete strangers.
So, Nicole wandered for a few minutes through the crowds, barely noting the vendor stalls built to resemble old shops, or the passing performers, before taking a seat at one of the many benches near the food vendors.
The world was so completely fucked, and she couldn’t even blame it on the boomer generation like her parents had. No, she had the luxury of growing up in a literal alien apocalypse where there was little hope for the future. Sure, the Rangers were holding the line as they always said in their damn interviews, keeping the bastards from overrunning them in a way even the military failed to.
That first incursion had decimated the airforce of most nations, limiting what could be done. If that first group of Rangers hadn’t emerged in New York when it did, the battle might have been lost on the very first day of fighting. That had been the turning point as the invaders rallied around the city and attempted to put the Rangers down.
The Rangers won the day and the world hailed them as heroes.
So few took the time to remember what had been lost over the years, but not Nicole. She’d lost her mother and father, like so many others, and the world instead celebrated the chosen few rather than those lost. All because some primary colored assholes halfway across the country stopped the bloodshed temporarily.
She still couldn’t believe it had been a year since she lost them. They’d always attended the Renfaire together and this was the first year she was attending without her parents. Her best friend Rebecca was busy with her boyfriend Colin and planned to come with her the following day, yet the void remained. It ate at her, calling ever so sweetly for her to embrace it, all it would take was a simple motion and she would— Nicole sucked in a sharp breath, she’d promised herself she wouldn’t let the memories ruin the day, that she would enjoy it despite the pain.
She finally had her complete outfit, she was doing something she loved… Then why was she crying? It was so stupid, breaking down in such a public place, but she had almost nothing left. Pretty much everyone she loved was dead and gone, and she had no friends at the college outside of Becca and her boyfriend, and Becca was all but obligated given Nicole had been taken in by Becca’s family after her parents died.
She’d checked off the latest item on her ever revolving bucket list. Was the next item a book, or show? Whichever, it was so minor in the grand scheme of things. With the Renfaire no longer being something in the future for her to strive towards, everything felt so hollow.
Was it even worth it? It wasn’t like there was a future for anyone, not with the impending devastation to come. Even if Minneapolis ended up with their own Ranger team, it wouldn’t do much good in the face of such overwhelming might. Maybe she would be better off just checking out on her own terms…
A bitter laugh bubbled up, she’d avoided such depressing thoughts for months, the looming Renfaire helping to keep them at bay thanks to having a goal ahead of her. Now it was here and that was all gone.
Absently, Nicole noted someone sitting down beside her, their back to the table as they watched one of the food stalls. It was one of the downsides to the Renfaire, unless you locked yourself in a porta-potty, you weren’t getting much privacy.
“Difficult times?” the woman beside her asked.
Nicole glanced up, the dampness of her cheeks chilling in the late summer breeze. The woman wasn’t truly looking at her, instead she watched the crowd. Nicole could tell that some of the woman’s focus was on her, but she wasn’t anything more than a passing curiosity to the vision of beauty. Like many at the Renfaire, the woman was in a costume that almost made her seem fae-like. There was an ethereal quality to her makeup, changing the shape of her face to be angular in a way that wasn’t quite human in appearance.
It was good work, accentuated by the elaborate braids woven into her silky hair that was the most brilliant silver that Nicole had ever seen. There was no way it was natural, but it didn’t appear to be a wig either.
In contrast, the stall bought fairy wings whose cheapness was completely out of place on her elegant royal blue dress. Nicole felt more than a hint of jealousy at the skill it must have taken to manage such a look. Worse, she felt the embarrassment of being in such a sorry state that she drew the attention of the beautiful woman.
“You could say that,” Nicole said, wiping her eyes. “It’s just a tough time for me.”
The woman hummed, still only giving her the barest of attention. “This seems to be a joyous time for most, so why do you not share their mirth?”
Ah, she was playing a bit. Some people did refuse to break character regardless of circumstances when visiting the Renfaire. Normally Nicole found it amusing, but right now it was just leaving her drained.
“I used to come here every year with my parents,” Nicole admitted, because she had nothing to lose by opening up to a stranger, they’d forget about her within a week after all. “I lost both of them to the incursion last year.”
“Ah,” the woman said with a bit of a wince. “I am truly sorry to hear that. Such matters are always full of senseless bloodshed and loss.”
Nicole chuckled, but it was without mirth. “That’s one way to fucking put it.”
“Maybe you should head home,” the woman said, looking off into the crowds. “This doesn’t seem to be a good place for you right now and you’ve lost enough as it is.”
“No, I’ll manage,” Nicole said, forcing a smile. “Maybe I’ll sit by Vegetable Justice for a while, that’s always good for a laugh.”
“The man’s insults were rather amusing,” the woman agreed before pulling out a strange phone. “I have about thirty minutes before I have to depart, so if you insist upon not departing, it would be poor form to leave you unaccompanied in your present state…”
Nicole blinked, unsure exactly what was being offered, but she was finding it difficult to refuse. It truly was as if she’d encountered someone otherworldly, and she didn’t have much to lose.
“You know what, sure, why not?” Nicole said, getting to her feet before she held out her hand. “My name’s Nicole.”
The woman blinked, looking at the offered hand. “Maraline. Sorry, I’m not one for physical contact with the common masses.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Nicole winced, withdrawing her hand. Some people did take that sort of thing seriously after the second plague in as many years. “Sorry. That’s completely understandable.”
“Vegetable Justice then?” the woman asked, rising to her feet with a languid grace.
Nicole smiled, happy that at least some part of her day seemed to be looking up. “Lead the way, m’lady.”
----------------------------------------
“Hey kid, know why the fairies are all extinct?”
The little girl threw a tomato at the man sitting behind the wooden cutout wall only to hit the bright red cartoon tomato painted around his face and arms. The cutout was offering the obvious target as the man behind it heckled the young girl who was standing at the five to seven year old line. She was wearing a pink and sparkly princess dress with the same sort of fairy wings that Maraline wore, much to Nicole’s amusement.
“It’s because I plucked all their wings, ground them up, and snorted them.”
Half the assembled crowd booed the joke as the man cackled, then the girl nailed him right in the face with her last tomato and the jeers turned to cheers almost instantly as everyone clapped for the young girl. Even the man hurling insults joined in as an older boy stepped up to the next line just a bit farther back.
Such was the way at Vegetable Justice.
“Does he truly do that to such beautiful wings?”
Nicole eyed Maraline, who was ever the picture of an arrogant noble as she sat there watching the spectacle. The new boy hurled tomatoes at the taunting man, but Nicole’s focus was on the woman that had pulled her out of one of the worst spirals in the last six months.
“You’re really dedicated to the whole Fae Queen persona, aren’t you?”
Maraline turned, her poise unaffected by what should have been an awkward motion. “Whatever do you mean?”
Nicole just shook her head. If the woman wanted to keep up appearances that badly, she wouldn’t try to force her. For all she knew, Maraline was more socially awkward than Nicole could be when not putting on the act. Brains could be weird, something she knew all too well.
“Sir! Yes, you in the tight shirt,” the man yelled, pointing an arm through the hole. “Let me guess, you wear your shirt two sizes too small so people think you work out!”
It was impossible to see his eyes from behind the reflective sunglasses, but the tight shirted man stepped forward, fishing out a few bills before slapping them on the counter. He was handed a dozen tomatoes and started hurling them. The first two hit far off to the side, much to the man’s mounting frustration.
“Sir, your throws are about as straight as you are!” he heckled as tomatoes turned to salsa all around his head in near misses. “You’re so deep in the closet that you’ve found Narnia!”
The last tomato impacted just below his chin and the fuming man stomped off as the crowd laughed. Even Nicole found herself clapping for the Justice guy as once more a child stepped forward to play.
“Maybe we should get in line,” Nicole said. “I never played baseball, but I can throw a mean curve.”
Maraline seemed to consider that, then checked her phone. “Very well, there is yet time.”
Taking that as a win, Nicole led the otherworldly woman around to the main stall and set a twenty on the table. The kid was doing well enough, but they only bought a dozen tomatoes. Nicole was buying a fair bit more, even if she was splitting them with her new companion. It didn’t take long for their turn to come and Maraline picked up one of the chunks of ‘totally a fruit’ that everyone accepted as a vegetable.
“I just throw it?” she asked.
“Yeah, try to hit me in my big fat head!” the man in the quasi stockade yelled. “Not that you could! With wings like those I bet—”
He was cut off as the tomato splattered across his forehead, much to the crowd’s cheers.
“A trivial task,” Maraline said coldly, then threw another, hitting him yet again.
Holy shit, was this woman some secret world class pitcher or something? How the hell was she managing to hit him again and again? She hadn’t even missed once, it was bad enough that the poor fool inside the stockade had to start ducking.
“I do not believe that is fair,” Maraline said with a frown. The man poked his head up, only to duck again as Maraline nailed another tomato through the hole. “Do you truly fear competence? Where has your bravado fled to, little man?”
“Just because I’m short,” the man yelled, only to duck again. “Doesn’t mean that— Ma’am!”
Nicole could only whistle as Maraline exhausted her supply of tomatoes. Hell, she was tempted to give up her own portion just to keep watching an artist at work. Maraline seemed to make the decision for her, taking a step back so that Nicole would have room to throw her own tomatoes. Taking a breath, Nicole eyed the tomatoes, wondering how the hell she was going to follow up that act.
“Oh thank god,” the man muttered as he took his place back in the cutout. He eyed Nicole then grinned. “Where did you even find that girl? Someone who looks like her should not be able to throw that straight!”
Nicole shrugged. “Surprised the hell out of me too.” Then she threw the first tomato, missing him intentionally as the tomato burst right below his chin and splattered across his face. “Maybe she’s been playing this game as long as I have.”
Blinking, the man looked almost scared. “Where are they finding you people?”
“What do you mean you people?” a dark skinned man wearing the armor of a paladin yelled back. “Come on, nail him again!”
“Yeah, nail me just like you failed to nail your high school crush.”
Her eyes twitched. He didn’t know how close to home that was, or how much she tried to put it out of mind that her best friend had found happiness with an amazing man. She threw, and hit the broadside of the tomato cutout.
“Ma’am, you don’t have to aim as low as your standards.”
She couldn’t let the man get to her, that was half the game. Nicole threw again, this one hitting just off to the side.
“Damn, missing me like you miss your dad after he went to the corner store for milk.”
Nicole saw red as she threw again, but this time he caught the tomato. “Ha! I bet this isn’t the first time a man caught something from you!”
Half the crowd hissed and Nicole stopped playing around. She wound back and threw the tomato with all her might, and hit the bastard right in the eye. The person in the cutout fell back and this time he didn’t get up. Letting out a huff, Nicole turned and began to walk off. Nicole absently bumped into a girl in green robes, muttering an apology as she tried to get as far from the stand as possible. She was only vaguely aware of Maraline following after her.
“He was rather crass, was he not?”
Nicole took a breath, stopping near the jousting arena. It wasn’t quite time for a show, but the seats were open and she needed to unwind for a moment. Maraline sat smoothly beside her, close, yet far enough to not crowd her.
“Sorry about that,” Nicole said after a moment, holding herself. “That last taunt hit a bit close to home. Assholes back in school used to come up with all kinds of rumors about me, and that was similar to a lie this bitch named Tiffany once spread.”
“I see,” Maraline whispered. “It is unfortunate that some humans can be so cruel, however, I can see that you are not one prone to cruelty.”
“How can you know that?” Nicole whispered, tears splattering against leather. “You only just met me, how can you just say something like that?”
“Call it intuition,” Maraline said with a smile. “Afterall, a fae may speak no lies.”
Nicole couldn’t help it, she laughed.
----------------------------------------
Two armored jousters clashed, one taking a hit to the chest that knocked him from his steed as the crowd cheered. Nicole herself had jumped to her feet, shouting exuberantly at the triumphant man in purple armor that could easily have passed for a dragoon in any fantasy tale. There was just something exciting about two horses charging one another while their riders tried to spear one another.
“I hope that one will live,” Maraline said.
Nicole took her seat once more, feeling much better than she had an hour prior. A batch of loaded tater tots had also helped; comfort food doing what it does best. “He should be fine, this is a performance, not an actual sport. It’s likely all rehearsed in advance.”
“I pray you are correct,” Maraline said, then her phone let out a chime and the woman grimaced.
“Everything alright?” Nicole asked.
“It is time,” Maraline said, standing smoothly. “You should go home, and quickly.”
Nicole started a bit at just how serious her tone was, and the sharpness of her gaze. Maraline’s tone brokered no doubt that she wasn’t joking in the slightest. Worse yet, it reminded Nicole of that time the quiet kid in her class had warned her to skip. He’d been arrested the following morning armed with several guns.
“Are you going to hurt someone?” Nicole asked, softly, her words laced with worry.
The woman hesitated a second too long before giving her a sad smile. “No worse than I’ve done before.”
Nicole’s hand dropped to her blades, now secured with zip ties at her lower back. It was a rule for safety, but now she was really wishing it wasn’t. Nicole couldn’t quite describe what she felt, as though something so beyond her was pressing down with the weight of the world. Maraline didn’t flinch or look away, then her eyes closed and someone screamed.
Nicole’s head whipped to the side to see what was happening, only to find it had been a kid scared of one of the costumed entertainers. She let out a heavy breath and turned back around, but Maraline had slipped away on her. She frantically looked around, jumping to her feet to look across the crowd but saw no sign of the enigmatic woman.
Discretion being the better part of valor, Nicole made her way out of the stands and hurried over to one of the park workers and flagged them off to the side.
“What can I assist you with on this fine morrow?”
Nicole dismissed her irritation at the incorrect use of the word and pressed on. “A woman I was talking to, deep blue flowing dress and makeup done up like a Fae Queen.” He just tilted his head at the description, no recognition in his eyes despite having been just a few feet away from the almost breathtaking woman. “She made some comments that implied she was going to hurt a bunch of people here.”
“That is troubling indeed!” the man said. He then pulled a radio from his pocket. “Keep an eye out for a Fae woman in a flowing blue dress, it has been brought to my attention that she may mean to harm someone.” Some radio chatter followed and he nodded. “The castle guard has been notified.”
“Thanks,” Nicole said sheepishly. “She just reminded me of someone who was almost a school shooter. I didn’t want to take a chance.”
“And we thank ye for notifying us,” he said, patting her shoulder. “Go enjoy the festivities, we’ll handle things from here.”
That would have to be enough, even though the sense of foreboding hadn’t left the air. Nicole wandered a bit aimlessly, as if she could find the woman before the collective efforts of the park security could. She ended up at a knife throwing stall and decided to vent some of her frustrations. She slapped down a twenty on the rough wood and took position.
The stall worker placed twelve chipped and dulled blades in front of her. “You’ll get two rounds.”
She nodded and took up the first blade. It was one thing she was truly good at, and she let a smirk come to her lips as she let the first throw loose and sunk it into the painted target. More knives followed and soon she was down a dozen blades, eight of which were sunk into the wood, the other four were so dull she hadn’t been surprised she didn’t get them to stick.
The blades were lined up in front of her again and she shook her hand out, ready for another round when another kid screamed. She was about to ignore it, but further screams followed and that air of dread she had felt grew suffocating. She turned slowly and her blood ran cold.
Dozens of silver clad automatons were materializing across the field, people screaming and fleeing as the mechanical beasts rushed after them with blades in hand. It was a Sylan attack. Why were they attacking the Renfaire of all places?
Nicole moved on autopilot as she grabbed one of the throwing knives and quickly cut the zip ties holding her own blades in place, the custom made weapons soon to get tested in a way she never anticipated. She also carried a half dozen throwing knives inside her coat. It took a few seconds to cut the ties on them free as well, but if she was going to survive, she knew she needed her gear available.
“Can I—” Nicole cut off as she watched the stall vendor vanish into the crowd, leaving the knives behind. She scoffed and grabbed the few blades that weren’t in terrible shape and took off towards one of the emergency exits meant for staff. It was her best bet as the main gates would quickly become kill zones.
She was moving quickly, glad for once at how much effort she had put into her gymnastics career and that even after months of lazing about she was still relatively fit. The hope that she might make it out was thoroughly dashed as another group materialized right in front of her. The machines scattered, one moving inhumanly quick, their bladed arm cutting right through a man’s wooden shield, severing his arm in a spray of crimson.
The kid behind him screamed in terror.
Nicole froze, images of her mother dead in the morgue flashed before her eyes, then a snarl came to her lips. Blades flew from her hands, the few throwing knives she had sent into the automaton masses. None of the blades stuck, but it did draw their attention from the cowering kid and squarely onto her.
Nicole swallowed heavily, drawing her newly acquired blades and fell into a loose combat stance. She was going to die. She knew that, and if that was to be her fate, then she was going to go down fighting. Three of the automatons bounded towards her, bladed limbs coming up to bisect her. Despite that, she was at peace with her end and would meet it head on. She ducked, the blades passing over her head as she did, and struck.
To her surprise, the blade didn’t just bounce off their armored plating, it bit into the joint between their torso and abdomen. She was sprayed with some pale blue fluid, distracted for just a moment that she had actually damaged one of the invaders. That brief pause cost her, as one of the machines pushed their damaged member atop her, knocking her down to the ground as her glasses flew off her face. Nicole looked up into the glowing ‘eyes’ of the machine, knowing it was about to kill her.
The blade came down, then almost seemed to hang there.
Nicole blinked, wondering if this was the start of her life flashing before her eyes as the world shifted to monochrome around her. The blade was still moving, but so slowly that it would take a dozen minutes to reach her. She tried to move, but found her own body was responding in much the same way, sluggish and unresponsive.
Was this what happened to everyone when they died? Did their perception slow to the point that they were given a chance to come to peace with their end?
“Interesting,” something said, echoing all around her. “So very interesting.”
It wasn’t a physical voice, but rather something that reverberated in her mind. It was coming from everywhere yet also nowhere. Nicole wanted to do something, anything, yet she was completely pinned by whatever was holding her and the world still.
Images flashed around her, machines cutting down people that were decidedly not human, as these four-armed beings ran for safety. Nicole could only watch as the scenes shifted unfolding in new ways. Costumed defenders rose up on the cusp of defeat, defying the Sylan machines and driving them back. Of machines the size of buildings fighting off monsters of equal stature that brought ruin to their cities.
“Such a fierce spirit, willing to put yourself at risk to hold the line in defense of others.”
She wanted to clamp her hands over her ears, the voice was borderline painful to hear, as if it spoke just a bit louder her ears would rupture and her brain would start to bleed.
“I feared this day would never come, but I finally found someone worthy of the power I was once entrusted with.”
If she hadn’t been frozen in place, her mouth would have run dry. Unless Nicole was way off the mark, it almost sounded as if she was about to become...
“You are worthy to become a Ranger and lead the way to a brighter future.”
The instant that word slammed into her mind, confirming her growing trepidation and fear, her entire reality spun in prismatic colors and everything changed as the world was plunged into a pitch black void.