There’s a loud crash, followed by a sudden, overwhelming, biting cold. Will opens his eyes, sputtering, gasping, his clothes suddenly soaked to the bone. He can’t see beyond a single concentrated, blinding light in front of him, eclipsing his surroundings. He struggles to move, but finds his arms bound to a stone seat, cold and hard. He starts panicking, a million questions rushing through his head, when he hears a familiar whisper: “Will, chill for a second, alright? You’re okay, sort of. I think this is an interrogation, they think you kidnapped that girl.” His eyes widen. “What?!” he shouts, panicking even more.
A voice cuts through the light, “Would you quit that?!” The light recedes slightly, revealing a hidden face within: a woman’s, the same angry-faced woman he recalls from during his half-dreams earlier. Everything about her screams warrior: Her darkly tanned skin, thick, muscled arms, heavy armor bearing intricate vine patterns, and two deer antlers on her head. Well, one, with the left one broken off at the nub. This woman bears an intimidating presence almost rivaling that of the creature from the Forest of Dread. The biggest difference is that that thing was beaten through courage alone, while this woman resembles raw power. All of that to say, he gets the sense she could beat him into a pulp and contort his remains like Play-Doh. Not someone he wants to be glowering menacingly across a table from him.
Pulling together what little wit he has left, he halts his struggling and attempts to meet her gaze, though his knee still bobs without input. She doesn’t blink, crossing her arms, staring him down. When he doesn’t seem to budge, she just snorts and turns away, Will only just now realizing that was supposed to be some sort of test. He’s not sure if he passed or not, or whether passing is even a good thing.
“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, kid,” she growls, her voice just as rough and menacing as her looks. “Mind explaining what the hell you were doing out there with m- with the princess?” Will notes her momentary hesitation, but finds the second thing she said to be much more interesting: “Princess?!” he blurts out, the shock plain in his voice. “Lita didn’t tell me that!”
The soldier’s gaze suddenly turns icy cold, despite the burning malice burning inside her as well. She slams her hands on the table, shoving her face into his as he shrinks back in fear for his nose, being in the way of her gnashing teeth. “How in the hell do you know that name?! She would never, never give it out to someone she didn’t know- not willingly.” This isn’t going well. He’s never been interrogated before, he doesn’t have a clue what he’s supposed to do!
“Look, I-I- this’s all a bi-i-ig misunderstanding, alright…?” he stammers, desperately trying to think of a way out of this. “Look, there- there was this Demon, alright? And- I saved her! I carried her all th’ way here on my back!” His words rush forth, frantically trying to convince her he isn’t some psychotic lunatic.
She narrows her eyes, frowning as she pulls back a bit. “A Demon, you say? There hasn’t been a Demon in these parts in centuries, even you would know that.” The thinly veiled insults seem to be Fawn genetics. Still, she also seems concerned, which gives him an idea. “I-I’ll prove it to you! Look-” He opens the palm of his hand, unsheathing Windbreaker. It didn’t work last time, but why not.
She raises her eyebrow, stepping around the table to get a closer look. She holds her hand out. He hesitates for a moment, gripping it tighter, but is easily convinced by a single glare from the soldier. He drops it, hitting the ground with a surprisingly sharp ringing tone. She bends over to pick it up, before crossing back in front of the light where he can’t see her.
She runs her hand up and down the blade’s surface, studying the material closely. “It’s certainly similar…” she mutters to herself, efore side-eyeing Will. She sizes him up again, before returning to the blade.
At last, the uncertain silence is broken by a knock at the door. The soldier startles as the door is pushed open, another soldier stumbling his way into the room, bending to catch his breath. “Sir!” she shouts incredulously. “Now is not the time, I’m in the midst-” The new guy raises his hand, still panting but finally able to speak. “Ma’am, it’s… It’s Heir Lita…” he breathes. She looks down at him, before glancing at Will, who gives a little wave, contemplating what to do. Finally, she grabs the other soldier by the collar and drags him outside, slamming the door behind her.
Elizabeth finally creeps from the corner, Will watching curiously as she peeks her head through the wall. She quickly yanks it back, grinning, saying, “Lita’s awake, she’s trying to clear you!” Will smiles, sighing heavily. Maybe a real bed could be coming soon…
Eventually, the woman returns, her face losing its earlier menace. She maintains an a ir of neutral professionalism, but she’s clearly embarrassed. “It would seem that there has been a… misunderstanding.” No kidding. She approaches Will’s chair, lifting the straps holding him down. “Princess Lita, heir to the Fawna throne, has corroborated your story and insisted you be set free.” As Will flexes his wrists, feeling the blood returning to his arms and sighing in relief. He grins, looking up at his would-be captor reassuringly. “It’s alrigh’, can’ really blame you considerin’ me draggin’ the princess in here all beat up. No hard feelins.” The woman nods as he stands. “One last thing,” she adds. “The Queen has requested your audience.”
He freezes, still in the process of leaving his seat. He looks up at the woman. “Oh.”
---
Two soldiers march on either side, the woman taking the lead, and Will caught in the middle. Despite his cleared reputation, he still somehow feels like a criminal, and the people certainly have the same impression, whispering amongst themselves as he walks past. He swears he hears one say something about an “execution.” Well, he sure hopes not.
Truth be told, Fawna is one of the most beautiful places he’s ever seen. Trees soar off into the heavens, mysterious lights drift aimlessly about, and all kinds of strange and interesting people line the road. People with goat horns, rabbit ears, cheetah spots, lion manes, horse hooves, and many, many more. As for their architecture, by whatever means, magical or mechanical, they’ve managed to manipulate the trees themselves to form homes. They sit on the ground, in the air, hanging from branches, anywhere they can. He’s heard of similar things, but only ever in books. He’s begun to realize just how much his reality influences fiction.
At the head of the grass path is another tree, but not a tree like any he’s seen. It’s absolutely massive, taller than all of the already-massive trees, towering high above all the punt mortals below. A large banner bearing the crest of a buck head hangs in its middle, and the very base has been manipulated into a massive doorway. Embedded into its trunk is a door seemingly made of thick, white stained glass, with patterns of tangled vines and leaves crawling along its surface. The leader steps up to the door, raising armored knuckles to pound away, making him somewhat nervous about just how solid a glass door could be. The door opens, seemingly by itself, and the four of them walk inside.
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The inside bears no similarities to that of a tree. A massive crystal chandelier hangs from an impossibly high ceiling, the walls made of pure white marble, and a long green carpet leads from the entrance to the base of a tall, pointed throne. As they walk along the carpet, there’s a quiet whir and a quick click, when suddenly a pair of translucent screens appear hovering on either side, displaying the crest on the outside. His jaw drops, realizing these screens are just like the one from his own device. One of the soldiers notices Will’s surprise and smirks. “So, never seen a light-page, eh? Restored ancient technology, it is. Our Queen prides herself on appearances.”
Suddenly remembering he’s supposed to be meeting actual royalty, he returns his attention to the throne ahead, his eyes are greeted with the shiniest woman he’s ever seen.
Everything about her seems to glow, from her clothes to even her skin. Massive, white furs cloak her body, with a massive pointed crown on top of her head. Everything is just pure white, white robes, white hair, white (white as in zero sun for several years) skin, all except for her painted red lips, which contrast wildly against her pasty self. Her pale flesh, almost sickly looking, seems to have been painted over with mild glitter to enhance her “shiny” effect. The only part of her that could be considered bland in any way is the large pair of antlers crowing her head, but even then they carry an air of majesty or opulence. In all, he’s not quite sure what she was going for, nor is he sure if it’s good or not. For the most part he just feels he needs a pair of sunglasses.
The Queen doesn’t speak until they’re at the foot of her looming throne, and the soldier woman kneels before her. Will hears a throat clear, glancing to his right, and Elizabeth’s looking at him, nodding her head down to the woman, and bowing at the waist. “Oh, uh…” he stumbles over his words, finally just tilting at the waist. He doesn’t get that far, but hopefully it’s enough.
“My Queen,” the woman speaks from the ground. “I brought the boy who claims to be a Champion.” The Queen lowers from her seat, placing her hand on the back of the soldier’s head, putting on a bright smile. “Yes, you’ve done well, Thalia. Leave us now, I wish to have a word with the boy.” The woman, now known to Will as Thalia, nods her head and turns to leave, not making a bit of eye contact with the Queen. The other two soldiers leave with her, not a word said. Their trained movements are almost robotic.
With the hall now empty, Will is left with Elizabeth and the Queen, smiling at him from the front of her throne. In its presence, she looks almost comically small. “So, uh…” Will stumbles. “You wanted me… yer majesty..?” The Queen lets out a quick, shar laugh, piercing his ears, before looking him unfortunately in the eyes. “Please, you are a Champion, a godsend! You may refer to me as Queen Kalis.” Something about her throws him off, and Elizabeth can see it. She briefly wonders just what a wrong word could carry with this woman, though she isn’t all that concerned.
Kalis approaches him, lifting his hand in her own and bowing her head. “You have saved the life of my daughter, my dear Lita. For that alone, you deserve the highest honors.” Hearing her say that, he can feel the genuine concern in her voice, and it somewhat moves him. “I, uh, di’n’ really do much, the guy just ran off once I got involved…” he mumbles, unsure how to take the sudden praise.
She chuckles, letting his hand go. “Well, that may be, but still, you being here means so much more!” Suddenly her giddy smile doesn’t look as fake as before. “You, the first Champion, here to discover the one meant to accompany you on your journey! This is the kind of things legends will be written of, and now I’ll be fortunate enough to feature in them! It’s a very big deal, so cast aside the humility for at least a little bit and pride yourself in the title of Champion.” Elizabeth leans over to Will, mumbling out the corner of her mouth, “She’s right, y’know.” Will rolls his eyes.
“Though it appears our Champion has already had his fair share of conflict,” Kalis continues, eyeing his bandaged arm warily. “Oh, I do hope Thalia didn’t cause you too much trouble. She does get a bit… overzealous… in matters to do with her sister.” Will does a double take. Another plot twist? “Sister?” he asks. Kalis laughs again at his surprise. “Oh, yes, I’m sure we’re all quite an odd family, hm? I suppose that deserves some explanation.
“The only child I’ve borne myself was Thalia, twenty three long years ago. Almost six years after to the day, Lita was discovered, alone, in the midst of a wrecked carriage. Her parents were never found. As I’d lost my hu-” She stops a moment, her eyes seeing something invisible for a moment, before shaking out of it. “I’d lost my husband recently, and I’d hoped a new child would help fill that void. Turns out, that isn’t how love really works; instead of filling a void, she simply created a new place in my heart. Dangerous, but, in my opinion, well worth the risk. I love her just as I do Thalia, though the girl still sees her big sister as some sort of rival.
“She believes that, if she can prove she’s stronger than Thalia, she can take her place as leader of the guard. It may give her quite the will, but it usually ends in some kind of disaster, as I’m sure you’ve come to discover,” she finishes, sighing as she returns to her throne. “I love them both very much, but they can be quite the handful.”
After all of that, oddly enough, Will feels much more at ease. “I’m sure,” he responds, grinning. “My momma said plenty th’ same back home.” Kalis tilts her head in interest. “Your mother? I’m sure she must be very proud, having a son as a Champion and all.” Will’s face suddenly falls, and she realizes her mistake. “Oh, my, I didn’t mean to-” “It’s fine, we’re pretty sure she’s alive,” he interrupts, his voice a cross between reassuring and broken hearted. “She was taken by a Demon.” Kalis nods her head sympathetically. “I understand, dear. I’m terribly sorry. But,” she changes the subject, hoping to shift the mood a bit. “I believe we should be concerned with your arm there.”
He nods, unconsciously scratching at the bandages keeping his arm together. After getting hit by that water--which still hasn’t dried, by the way--he’s worried about infection. “Yeah, got in a bit of nastiness with some Sins, one nearly tore my arm clean off.” Kalis furrows her brows, slightly perplexed at his casual attitude. “Well, our healers are incredibly efficient, so we’ll send some in to get that fixed up right away.” She slides open a panel on the arm of her throne, pressing a pink button, and at once two men in white robes march into the throne room, approaching Will. “Take the Champion--oh my, how rude of me, what is your name? Yes, okay, take Will Nooby to the infirmary, please. Treat him well.”
The man on his left lightly grabs his shoulder, directing him from the throne, and Elizabeth, having been aimlessly wandering about while her brother and the queen were talking, notices he’s leaving and hurries after him before the chain can catch up to her.
---
“Welp, you shouldn’t have an arm right now,” Elizabeth remarks, the medics having just left. Will’s currently recovering from the sight of the inside of his arm in one of those tree-houses, the walls being solid tree, but the floor fitted with marble. He’s in a white bed, thin sheets, and his arm rests on a tray next to it with fresh bandages. After seeing everything that Sin had done to him, he realized just how much more he had God to thank for.
“It’s almost disappointing,” she continues. “Maybe if it had taken your arm, you’d’ve learned not to toss rocks into random bottomless pits!” Will shakes his head. “Well, how in the hell was I s’posed to know a buncha monsters were jus’ waiting fer some idiot to hit ‘em with a rock to finally wake up?!”
Their argument is interrupted by the opening of the door, causing them both to freeze in place. It’s Thalia, no longer in her armor, but instead in a plain grey tank top and heavy looking plants with too many pockets. She looks at Will apologetically, saying, “Sorry about the whole… interrogation… it was entirely against protocol, I was just convinced you’d done something to Lita…” He just waves his obther hand, laughing it off. “Nah, don’ worry about it. If my sister found out someone did somethin’ ta me, she’da done plenty worse.” She chuckles too, clearly relieved he’s okay, before looking impressedly at his bandaged arm. “Still, a Champion… I’d have never thought…” she muses. Will chuckles. “Oh yeah, wild. Just imagine getting stuck with the role, suddenly after all these years now I’m cool.” Thalia chuckles with him, tilting her head at him. “Are you always in such a joking mood?” He just shrugs. “I find it hard to take things seriously. Once ya get hunted by a giant old lady with spider legs, talk with a rat, and nearly get devoured by a mouth with arms, everything just gets a lot funnier.” She nods as if what he said was some great wisdom.
“Well, I didn’t come here to say sorry,” she says, switching the subject. Will sits up, giving her his complete attention, despite looking everywhere but her eyes. “Tomorrow there’s gonna be a big ceremony, and you’re expected to be there. The Spear of Solstice is going to select its Champion.”