#to make her feel welcome. to ease that solitude that she herself is so accustomed to

[whitmore]

there’s something so palpable about the loneliness shared by niki and tallulah. phil knowing they would get along, them both standing off to the side during the phil tubbo and etoiles banter moment, tallulah checking in with niki and making sure she was good, giving her sentimental poppies and pink dye and a patch for her backpack, niki telling her she never has to feel lonely ever again. tallulah being the last thing niki saw before she logged out and niki promising solely tallulah that she would return. well aware that they have just met but they know each other’s solitude very personally. they have a very parallel loneliness and it brings them together and keeps them apart and is parallel in the plainest of definitions and senses

[mlpdestinyverse]

“Approach”

Worried for his sister after her school incident, Astral Dusk jumps on a chance to check on Eventide.

Feat.   Astral Dusk,  Eventide Twister

Story and Description Under The Cut

Astral Dusk's pencil - attached to the writing glove his mother had kindly made for him - scritched across paper as he hunched over his Canterlot High workbook. The colt was focused, brain churning and eyes locked on his schoolwork as he worked math problem after math problem.  In the silence of his room, Astral felt he would've normally appreciated the solitude. He was free to think and work on what he wanted or needed to without interruption.

But as things stood, this silence was nothing but unsettling.

Astral paused every few minutes, tensely listening for the return of his family. In the past he was almost never left alone in the house. If one parent wasn't home, then the other was certainly present. If both were out for any reason, then...there was his sister.

Eventide Twister would always drop by his room without fail, whether to ask him about what he was doing, happily ramble about her day, or invite him to some sort of activity. While he would sometimes have the time to stop and listen, he more often than not found her intrusions and chatter to be a bit...annoying. It was a natural occurrence between an older brother and a younger sister, he once believed.

His past self would have loved this silence, at least as something temporary. Yet this silence had been his reality for his past five weekend-visits to Equestria, ever since...Eventide's bullying incident.

The colt had grown accustomed to staying at the Sparkle-Spruce household in the human world for Canterlot High, only visiting Equestria on the weekends once or twice a month. While the same routine was going to be followed for his second year, Astral had made a conscious decision to return home at the end of each week. It was the least he could do to support his parents and sister through what had obviously caused more damage than he would have imagined.

Though...Astral also wondered if he was really making a difference. It appeared that his parents appreciated his presence as they tirelessly planned appointments to help the young filly. And yet, he hadn't held even one viable conversation with Eventide herself, aside from attempts at supportive words that were met with little to no response.

The colt exhaled slowly, filling the tense air with taps from his pencil. It was then, from the corner of his eye, that Astral's attention was caught by the familiar glowing and faint shaking of a certain brown magic journal of his, one that had a decorative design of his cutie mark displayed on the front.

Astral pulled the journal closer, opening it to where he had bookmarked it last. There, he found a new message scrawled out in green ink:

"BOI WHAT CHU DOIN"

The corner of his mouth twitched upward. Like past messages, the sentence ended in a small flower doodle, signifying that his friend on the other end was done writing. In one swift motion, Astral replaced his pencil with his red pen and responded, ending his answer with a small diamond.

“Homework??”  

“Wow nerd...”

Astral snorted, skipping a line to write.

“Terra, I’m willing to bet $5 that you’re also doing homework. You just messaged me because you’re bored.”

A long pause followed, causing the colt to smirk. A few seconds longer and magic shimmers revealed green ink as words yet again formed on the page.

“I feel attacked...”

“Who’s the nerd now?”

“Still you~”

“Ah, denial. Must be nice.”

Not long after he had finished his diamond, he watched as Terra Rosa quickly drew the biggest, most aggressive frowny faces she could manage, taking up almost all of the latter half of the page. Laughter escaped Astral, the colt shaking his head at his friend's...would you call this a response? He watched where he wrote, careful to avoid Terra's pen.

"Terra Rosa Spruce, you need to calm down."

"Hm. You mean you want me to...hold my horses?"

"Oh my God"

Astral could picture the girl having a snicker fit in her room. He waited, but for some reason, there was another long pause.

"...did you fall off your bed again?"

"WOW. Firstly, rude. Secondly, nah. Just hoping you got a good laugh?"

Things added up quickly after that, a light smile gracing the colt's mouth. She certainly knew how to help put him at ease.

"Thanks for trying to lighten the mood, Ter."

"Of course! So how's Eventide? Is she doing any better?"

....

"She's still not talking. It's hard to say if she's improving."

"Gosh, sorry Dusky...if you guys need anything, just let me know. We're here for you."

Astral's smiled softly to himself. He knew that. Miss Twilight Sparkle and Timber Spruce would probably do anything to help out family friends if they could. Terra Rosa was no different.

"Thanks. Really."

Astral's head jerked up at the sound of a door shutting down the hall. Straining his ears, he could faintly make out the sound of movement downstairs, as well as faint chatter. Standing up from his chair, he quickly scrawled one more message.

"I think they're back from therapy. I'm going to check on them."

"Okay! Tell Eventide that I miss her and to take it easy."

"I will."

With that, Astral strode out of his room. For a moment he paused at the top of the staircase, eyeing the closed door nearby, before he descended. At the bottom he found his parents in the living room, his mother Sunset Shimmer noticing him just as she was about to step into the kitchen. Although she smiled, Astral didn't miss how worn it was.

"Hey hun."

"How'd it go?"

Astral wasted no time in getting to the heart of things, carefully watching his parents. Valiant Heart joined them then, exchanging weary glances with his wife.

"Well..." Sunset began slowly, her eyebrows drawn back. "Not...well. The therapist still can't get a word out of her..."

His mother trailed off, staring at the floor quietly. There was no mistaking the exhaustion and concern practically etched into her features at this point. "...I'm thinking if this keeps up, we'll need a new approach. And I have ideas, but...I'll need to really look into it first."

Valiant Heart nodded solemnly, placing a hoof on the mare's furthest shoulder and pulling her into him. That earned him a gentle smile from her, one he returned with something soft, yet uneasy in its own right.

"Don't worry. We'll handle this."

Valiant signed to his son, offering a comforting look. The colt could only nod despite his own concern, and not only for Eventide.

'I've never seen them this uncertain about anything...'

"Anyway, I'll start dinner. You two sit tight."

With that, Sunset Shimmer trotted into the kitchen, leaving Astral with his father. While contemplating on whether to offer his help anyway, Astral noticed an audible pause beside him. Glancing over, he saw his father staring at the very top envelope in a pile of mail he had picked up. Astral couldn't help his curiosity.

"What's that?"

"Mail for Eventide."

Seeing that, Astral moved to peer over his father's arm to read the sender's name:

Monochrome Dashielle.

"Oh...that's Eve's friend."

Admittedly, the first face that had come to mind was not of Eventide's pegasus friend, but of the tall human teen that was Terra's friend back in the human world. He had to mentally remind himself that the two were, in fact, two seperate people.

Glancing back at the stairs, another contemplative thought flicked through Astral's mind. Maybe...this was the opening he needed.

"I'll take it up to Eventide."

Valiant scanned his face, the stallion's gaze softening upon reading his son's intent.

"I'll leave it to you, then."

With one last nod, Astral lifted his hoof to reach for the letter. Watching the appendage bump uselessly against the envelope, Astral blinked.

'...oh. Right.'

He supposed living in the human universe for a whole year would mess with his perception. It already changed how he chose to do certain things. Such as...writing. Or picking objects up. The colt found himself avoiding the use of his mouth, preferring other methods. Holding out his hoof, Astral allowed his rather amused father to balance the letter there. He then held the letter against his chest, turning to make his way back up the stairs.

Soon Astral was sitting before his sister's door, nervously hovering his other hoof in front of it. After a few more seconds of urging himself on, he knocked. It took a few beats. First there was silence, and eventually it was followed by rustling and creaks. Eventide was laying in bed, he guessed. It was what she usually did now. Standing back up, he waited. The knob turned and ever so slightly the door was pushed open. Eventide peered out from behind the door, and at the sight of her, Astral winced. Her now disheveled hair only seemed to highlight her dull, tired eyes and the dark circles forming under them. She quietly stared at him. Waiting. The colt felt nervous under her cheerless gaze. It was...uncanny, and disheartening. It was almost like he was facing a pale remnant of her once vibrant self. "Hey, uh...welcome back. You have a letter." He held the envelope out to her. For once the filly appeared confused, reaching out with her wing to take it and read the envelope's face. Almost immediately the pegasus sharply inhaled. Astral watched as what started off as shock morphed into something else. Something stressed or anxious. "Are you okay?" he hesitantly spoke up, scanning the filly's stiff stance. Eventide quickly snapped out of whatever daze she had been in. Looking away, she awkwardly tucked the letter under her wing. "Thank you." she signed with a hoof, not even meeting her brother's gaze. Like previous times throughout the month, her choice to sign over speaking...unsettled him. "You're welcome..." Astral jerked a bit, seeing Eventide begin to retreat. "Ah, wait!" Eventide paused. Awkwardly, Astral shifted the weight on his hooves. When it wasn't related to geology, he was always so used to his sister doing the conversing between them. "Why don't we do something together. I don't know what, but just...anything you want." Astral wasn't sure if it was his desire to lend a helping hoof in the situation, or maybe it was guilt for all the times he had ever turned down her genuine offers to hang out together. Either way, he felt it was about time he made some sort of effort to spend time with his sister; time spent not because his parents forced him to or because he gave in to Eventide's prodding, but because he actually wanted to. And perhaps it would come off as insincere, with how he was only trying now, but...

Unfortunately his offer failed to stir her. With a droop of her eyelids, Eve feebly shook her head, staring distantly at the floorboards. But Astral couldn't bring himself to simply quit there. There had to be other things he could do, or suggest. It came to him then. "Well, what if...we didn't hang out here." Astral took a step forward, managing to regain her attention. "Mom's human roots are just as important as our pony roots...and you haven't been there in years. Maybe you just need to get away. You could take a break from Equestria and visit the human universe with me for a while. Terra misses you and I know her parents wouldn't mind having you as a guest too." Without realizing it, Astral was staring off into space, his mind rolling through the fond memories he had gained over the past year. "In just a year I managed to make a group of friends there...thanks to Terra of course. I think you'd get along with them. Though...Sky and Summer would probably fight me over sibling rights to you." Astral chuckled to himself, hoping his joke had gotten across to her. "Not only that, but there's another Monochrome on that side. I couldn't say how different or similar they are to the Monochrome you know, but-" Looking back at Eve, Astral cut himself off. He discovered that the filly was staring at him wide-eyed. Still half-hidden behind her door, she appeared very much stiff and distressed by the very suggestion. His ears flattening, he realized she looked even more stressed than she was just moments before. "Eve-" "No thank you." she tensely signed. The sight of the movement had Astral pulling his head back. Despite his concern, a tinge of frustration began to spark within him. He could understand her being stressed. He could understand her being hurt. But this silence...her refusal to talk. He couldn't understand it at all. ...it was time for him to step up and be firm with her. "Eve, you don't need to sign," he insisted, brows drawing inward. "We're family. You can talk to us. It doesn't even have to be about how you feel or what happened, just...speak." Astral roughly ran a hoof through his hair, his gaze imploring. "Look, your silence, it's...it's freaking us out, Eve. We want to help you, but we can't if you keep doing this. If you can't speak to us, at least talk to your friends. Like Monochrome or Heather or-"

Astral stopped in his tracks the moment he saw the look of deep guilt and anguish on his sister's face. The filly's head and ears drooped. There was nothing but misery reflected in her eyes, and to his alarm, he noticed her brimming tears. "Eve wait-!" "Bye."

It was a quick, weak sign. In seconds she was closing the door, and Astral could feel a pang in his chest as he heard the sound of a lock. With the silence that followed, it was as if Eventide had stilled on the other side, just...waiting for him to leave.

Astral knew he could do nothing but relent, somberly turning to retreat to his room.

'Wrong approach, you idiot...'

he mentally cursed to himself. Astral didn't know what he had expected. There were few ponies he could understand, or be on the same wavelength with enough to respond appropriately to them. And as unplanned as that approach was...

The colt sighed, shooting one last regretful look at his sister's room before entering his own.

Buckle up, got some notes for you guys:

Astral Dusk and Eventide Twister were siblings who didn’t have much in common and required a bit more effort to connect and understand one another. While Astral is observant and does care about his sister, he also lacks the level of empathy his mother has and in general can be unintentionally insensitive. Present-day, Astral and Eventide are too preoccupied with their individual lives and conflicts to see each other much.

Monochrome’s letter was nothing but sweet and encouraging. It touched Eventide, and yet...it also pained her. An anxiety-ridden mind has a way of being cruel. She wanted to respond. She really wanted to see her dear friend again. But after such a horrible falling out with someone she had called her best friend, she was also just so...deathly afraid. She was so afraid to be an embarrassment to Monochrome too. If she wasn't already one. Eve held off on responding, even as two other letters came. She held off for weeks...months...she held off until so much time had passed, responding felt like an insult. So with a guilty, lonely conscious, Eve deemed the friendship lost but kept Mo’s letters stashed away safely.

There were many levels to Eventide’s anxiety. A paralyzing fear of speaking, of judgement and public humiliation. Most of all, she just...loathed the very sound of her own voice, tied to vivid memories of her old friend and pain and humiliation. In the face of Eventide’s unceasing silence, it wasn’t long before Sunset panicked and tried to get her troubled daughter the help she needed. Unfortunately, despite the weeks of therapy sessions, a mental block had Eventide unwilling to speak, even before her therapist. Any insistence or prodding to use her voice by anyone would only raise her stress levels until she shut down. Sunset later tried other ideas. Speech therapy came first, with the idea that if Eventide could resolve what she didn’t like about how she spoke, maybe it would allow her daughter to find the confidence to speak again. For her parents' sake, with Astral’s words in mind, Eventide tried. She really did. But the sessions, with no signs of improvement, only ended with miserable tears and eventual requests to stop. Sunset ended up pulling her out of those sessions. In time, there was finally one therapy that Eve responded well to. Art therapy, or more specifically, poetry therapy. After months of having no motivation to do the things she once enjoyed, Eventide finally had a reason and way of letting out her internalized emotions through poetry assignments. Those sessions managed to help soothe Eve enough for her main therapy appointments. That, coupled with medication, eventually had Eve willing to speak short sentences around her family again. She also reached a place where she could walk around in public without facing crippling anxiety everywhere she went. Though...even in present-day, there’s still so much that Eventide internalizes.

[artificialqueens]

Sunshine, and Glory Too (Trixya) - Chapter 6 - fannyatrollop

A/N: This fic is honestly so special to me, because unlike all five billion other ones I’m working on… the damn thing is finished. When I first completed it, I was in a bit of a daze for a little while because it was such a major thing for me. I hope to get to that point with my other work, it’s a great feeling. And I hope the ending still holds up.

Previously On: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five

Trixie kept to her own bedroom, and the main room in Violet’s quarters as she grew accustomed to being left behind.

Outside, the sun was bright and cheerful. She could hear birdsong wafting through the windows. Ignoring her pitiful requests for the reverse, Kim insisted on keeping them open for her.

“If my lady refuses to take in the fresh air by her own volition,” she would say, with exasperation and concern in equal measures. “It’s my duty as a friend to bring the air to her.”

Trixie’s only desire was to sit in the feeling of missing Katya, to the point of silencing the part of her that otherwise would not hesitate to berate her about how utterly ridiculous it was to live like a ghost, refusing to speak to another living soul or enjoy nature in the full splendour of spring. She became devoted to wallowing in misery in a way she never had allowed herself before, wryly thinking that she may have been better off crying over her every unhappiness when it first arose so she could have more practice in it.

Valentina called on her one morning, more contrite in her demeanour than Trixie had thought possible for her. She requested to see her alone, and Trixie agreed to it. Valentina may have been nasty in the past, but Trixie felt like she could handle whatever she chose to throw at her in her present state of mind.

There was no need to handle much of anything, though; Valentina proved to be on her best behaviour. She apologized for her indelicate treatment since, now that Trixie had been left quite alone, it seemed as though she might not have posed as much of a threat as Katya’s own willfulness. In her opinion, Katya had delighted in captivating both her and her poor, poor brother (who was already looking through eligible princesses for a more suitable bride, having learned the folly in attempting to harness a wild creature) only to abandon them when it struck her fancy.

“Not all common girls are like that, of course,” she said, while an uninterested Trixie exerted herself enough to maintain polite eye contact as she spoke. “But I do believe the character of the girl needs to be taken into account before one tries to work a miracle. Some people were simply not made to be royalty, regardless of how much help they receive. It’s simply not that easy, and being born beautiful does not a princess make.”

Thankfully, Valentina hadn’t taken the trouble to visit just to share her views on the requirements of royalty, or to flatter Trixie by suggesting she would have made a better candidate for a royal marriage. She had come into possession of Katya’s miniature, as it had been rejected by the fugitive’s would-be groom, and wished to present it to her as a gesture of goodwill.

“After all,” she explained. “You loved her the most.”

Trixie accepted it gratefully, though upon opening its case she found that the artist had not captured her fully. She had nothing to remember Katya by otherwise, so this would have to do.

After some days, she received a visit from Adore. The time had come for her to return to the sea, and she was on a quick farewell tour. She refused to leave without first presenting her dearest friends with tokens of her affection, even if they insisted on becoming hermits.

Trixie had to receive her. There was no knowing if they would ever meet again, and Adore had been a bright enough presence in her life to deserve that much. She bid Trixie not to miss her too much, leaving her with a glittering seashell affixed to a chain. If she could hear the sea when she held the shell to her ear, she would know Adore was well. She may even hear her sing, but Adore wasn’t too well-versed with the full capabilities of Trixie’s new trinket. She asked her to try speaking into it once in a while, in case the sound of her voice could reach her. She asked this of every lady she gave this type of pendant to.

They shared a warm hug, and parted ways. Trixie hung the chain around her neck. She found pressing the charm to her ear soothing, and would listen into it for hours while she remained stuck in her doldrums.

***

Kim soon resumed her original role as the princess’ chief dressmaker. She did not need to travel, she had built strong enough relationships to know where she could have the materials she needed sent for by then, but she was required to get back into the business of outfitting Her Royal Highness. The warm months brought on a need for an entirely new wardrobe, and as kind as Violet had been in giving leave for Kim to attend to Trixie, she could not go without just because one of her ladies was struck down by a lingering fit of heartache.

Being a person who was truly devoted to her work, this suited Kim greatly. However much she loved Trixie, she itched to serve her true purpose in her princess’ entourage. Trixie had neither the right, nor the desire to object. She had always liked watching Kim work, and took to sitting with her to pass the time. Though she was no longer any help, Kim would say that it was a vast improvement from her fast-paced lifestyle as a sad creature who only left her bed to sit on a sofa, and could not be relied on to eat three square meals a day if left to her own devices.

She carried Katya’s picture with her wherever she went. It hurt to look at her, but she felt better if her picture was nearby.

Violet finalized her engagement, and threw a small party in her quarters to celebrate. By then, Trixie was beginning to grow tired of moping, so she dusted herself off and made an appearance. Pearl had resolved to put on a brave face, and to be grateful that she was not obliged to part with Violet if she did not wish to.

Her mood suited Trixie’s, and the two found solace in each other as the evening went on. They both found the future uncomfortable to contemplate, so they spoke only of fond memories they shared, allowing silence to settle between them if they ran out of positive thoughts to share.

In time, Pearl found her way back to Violet’s side. They spoke softly, hands clasped, heads together.

Fame filled the empty space Pearl had left beside her. She had been monitoring Trixie closely in her own way, to make sure she was surviving well enough. Trixie informed her that she was as well as she could be.

“I’m glad to see you among us,” said Fame. “You have been missed.”

Trixie smiled.

“I intend to spend more time among the living,” she replied. “Keeping myself company is getting dull, I don’t make very lively conversation nowadays. I fear I might be mistaken for a palace ghost.”

“I think I heard someone whisper about a jilted lady haunting the halls,” said Fame.

“Must be another lady, I only haunt these rooms.”

Fame had no news of Katya, could only confirm that she had been given up for lost by the administration. It seldom happened that a lady escaped their care like this, but the main concerns when it did occur was conveying their regret to any injured royal parties and ensuring that the situation was framed as the actions of one foolish girl. The Academy as an entity would only concern itself with its own image. Katya mostly took her own belongings, and though Ginger was employed by the Academy, everyone knows that it is a fae’s prerogative to act as a free agent if she sees fit. A horse went missing from the stables, but replacing it was a simple matter. There was no danger of the fugitives being hunted by the Academy in the end.

Trixie nodded, and told Fame that she was glad to hear any information she was able to provide. In truth, she did not feel much better, but she appreciated the gesture.

She asked Fame if it was within a fae’s power to magically put her heart back together, just to ease her curiosity. Fame replied that it was doable, but not advisable.

“Emotions have a strong self-preservation instinct,” she said. “They would surely return, more devastating than when you last parted.”

She was advised to let her feelings run their course. There was nothing else she could do.

***

Trixie grew accustomed to the dull ache inside of her. She remembered what a loyal friend solitude had been throughout her life, and was resolved to be as good to it as it had been to her going forward. She had no hope of finding the kind of companionship she had lost again in her life. She had to get used to that, let her skin turn to steel.

She started helping Kim with her sewing again, jokingly offering her services as a permanent assistant if she was truly desperate. She hadn’t expected Kim to respond that she would be welcome to assume such a role if she pleased, but did not take it seriously enough to give a solid answer.

She picked up her instruments for the first time after weeks and weeks of depression. It was like getting reacquainted with an old friend, and she soon felt some cheer creep back into her life.

Wandering the halls aimlessly also became a favourite pastime. It was decent exercise, and if Trixie walked briskly enough she could forget her troubles for a moment. When she ventured outdoors, she avoided the lake, and found a new favourite place in the East Woods. They tended to be less crowded than the West Woods, for there was no remarkable beauty to be found in them unless one squinted. Sometimes, Pearl would join her and they would walk together, arm in arm.

Lately, their conversation had been focused on how odd it was that they had heard nothing from their mother since about Midwinter. She was not a prolific correspondent, but she had regularly sent small updates on the house, the surrounding village, how proud she was of Pearl, and her own well-being.

Trixie paid little attention to the content of these missives, as she was seldom addressed directly. Being caught up in love, and the loss thereof, had taken up too much of her attention to notice that letters had stopped coming. Thus, Pearl was the only one out of the pair of them who could find it in her heart to worry. She speculated aloud about the reason for this loss of communication, while Trixie listened. There was an appropriateness to discussing their family affairs in the middle of the woods, where a passing squirrel might be entertained by their little domestic drama.

“If Papa died, our cousin may have established himself at home and sent Mama away somewhere,” Pearl said, with a hushed voice and furrowed brows.

Trixie frowned. “Cousin Edward? Was that his name?”

“I believe it was Edwin,” said Pearl. “Or Edgar. In any case, if Mama’s silence means she has been put out of the house, we are effectively homeless.”

“You mean I am effectively homeless,” Trixie insisted. “You have little to worry about. Your place at court is secure, I can’t be so certain of mine.”

Pearl distracted herself for a moment by watching a small bird hop about from branch to branch above them.

“You are not the least bit concerned about Mama, are you?”

Trixie sighed. “I have very few feelings left altogether.”

“I guess you have always been a little heartless,” Pearl muttered.

She blanched, then, eyes wide.

“I don’t mean it in an insulting way,” she added, hastily. “I can imagine how you came to be so. Gosh, I must have sounded awful. What I meant to say is that no matter how tender your heart is, you have never been very open about it—”

Trixie waved her hand.

“Pearl, don’t worry,” she said. “I am heartless in regards to our mother. But the situation is truly concerning.”

“Even if Cousin Edbert has established himself as master of our house, he must be well-bred enough to send us a note about it. Just so that we know,” said Pearl.

Trixie snorted. “I wouldn’t say so, our family breeds terrible men.”

“But it breeds good women,” said Pearl. “If anything has happened, I will make sure you are taken care of. No matter what I have to do, my dear little sister will not be homeless.”

Trixie stopped them for a while so she could face her, and tenderly brush a lock of hair from her face. She let any cutting words about how they were twins, and that she was hardly little, die before they could make it out of her mouth. It was not the time for sass.

***

It did not take long for Trixie and Pearl to receive news from home, and though it was not as dire as they had imagined, all was not well. Their father had taken the time to write to them, confirming that he had not passed, but according to his account their mother had been ill for quite some time. She had not wanted to disturb them, much less Her Royal Highness, but her condition was not improving with time, as they had hoped it would.

The house was falling into disarray, as Papa was struggling with the demands of running a household while maintaining his rakish lifestyle. He wished for at least one of his daughters to return home, and to help tend to their mother. The servants needed direction, and only a woman could concern herself with domestic matters.

Of course, he wrote, your Mama would be glad to see her darling Pearl again if HRH Princess Violet can spare her, but as far as I am concerned you would both be capable of assuming this duty, so it makes no difference to me if Beatrice wishes to return in her stead.

There was no question of Pearl leaving Violet’s side, not when she was still in need of a companion abroad. She had been the one Violet had wanted to begin with, there was no reason Trixie should be left behind when Pearl’s company was more precious to her. Pearl had her own sort of chivalry, though, and the two of them nearly ended up in a screaming match over which of them would be forced to leave.

“Mama has never treated you as she ought to,” cried Pearl, in her valiant attempt to spare Trixie of what she thought was too horrible an ordeal for her to bear. “I do not wish to see you abused.”

“What could a sick woman possibly do to hurt me?” Trixie replied.

She excused herself to take the air before Pearl could be compelled to raise her voice, making sure to look Violet in the eye and proclaiming that Pearl would not be going home, before leaving. She was resolute, could not be convinced of a more logical course than to be the one to care for her mother whether the woman could find it in her to be grateful or not.

It was time for Trixie to mentally prepare herself to leave the Academy, a feat more difficult than she had thought. Her heart no longer had an anchor there, but it was still a place where she had found happiness, brief as it had been. At the very least she would have to say goodbye to as much of it as she could reach, like Adore had when she felt her departure approaching.

Trixie would have less time to do that than her friend had before her. News of their mother had reached the castle with their morning post, and it was scarcely high noon before her wanderings were cut short by Fame’s sudden appearance. Though she normally favoured lavender hues, Fame had come to her dressed head-to-toe in black.

“Her Majesty the Queen requires your presence,” she said, holding out her hand for Trixie to take.

***

Violet greeted her small household with the bearing of a queen, and a slight, but unmistakable redness around her eyes. Her voice never wavered as she informed them that it was time for all of them to go home. The throne was waiting for her.

Trixie lingered long enough after the address to catch sight of their new queen falling into Pearl’s arms before going to pack her things.

The king’s death effectively settled the argument of which sister would return to their mother. As far as anyone had known, the king had been in perfect health before he was carried off by a sudden bout of illness overnight. Violet needed her closest friends as she adjusted to her role sooner than she had expected, and she needed Pearl more than ever. As much personal power as she had gained in her father’s passing, Violet had loved him. As the queen’s woman, Pearl could not leave her.

Farewell messages were dispatched to the ladies that could not be left without a word, and the royal party was soon on their way home. Trixie recalled the journey to the Academy taking several days, yet their return was somehow a matter of hours. Fame had not given them the choice to remain awake this time around, requesting that they all let her induce them to sleep. Perhaps that had something to do with the speed of their progress.

Trixie was given a room at the palace to stay in for a couple of nights. She wrote home to advise that she would be arriving soon. She allowed herself some days to be available to Pearl, who would seek her out for a daily chat. She would update her on Violet’s condition, and how proud she was of the way she held herself up at every meeting she was required to attend, every audience she was obligated to give despite wanting nothing more than to be in Pearl’s arms for the whole day.

Violet summoned Trixie to offer her the choice of returning to court as a musician, when the situation at home had passed. She only requested that she take care not to embark on any more torrid love affairs, for the sake of her own sanity, though she said this with a wink. Trixie responded by telling her that she aspired to be an old maid, so there would be no more love affairs, torrid or otherwise.

“If that is what you want, I hope you will be comfortable enough imposing on our hospitality,” Violet said. “You will have to play for us, though. If you could be so kind as to become a renowned musician known across the land and outside of it, that would be much appreciated. We may regret our kindness otherwise.”

She suffered the most stilted embrace of her life in Violet’s arms, but was able to leave the interaction with some certainty of her sovereign’s favour.

Pearl held her in a much warmer, more lingering embrace upon her departure. As her carriage pulled away, she kept her eyes on the shrinking form of her sister, standing at the palace entrance until she was truly gone. When she lost sight of her, Trixie turned her gaze homeward.

***

Trixie was briefly received by her father upon her return home. It took her some time to recognize him as the man who had once stumbled into the nursery and picked her up for a drunken dance, while Pearl frantically reached to pull her back down, afraid of the strange man with the funny smell. He cleaned up pretty nicely, might even pass for someone worthy of a noble title, but he struggled to muster anything beyond the most basic pleasantries for his own daughter.

Predictably, her mother gamely tried to conceal her disappointment upon seeing her, but she did approve of the decision to leave Pearl with the queen.

“She must be so loved, that the queen couldn’t possibly spare her,” said her mother, hanging on to the faintest spark of joy she could get out of having to suffer Trixie’s care. “We may soon be truly respectable again, despite your father’s best efforts.”

Trixie did not tell her the depth of the queen’s love for her favoured daughter.

***

There were news of a dragon making a public appearance in some faraway land. Trixie heard them from a kitchen maid, who heard it somewhere in the village. One of the greatest mysteries of the world is how such giant creatures were so seldom seen, so whenever anyone so much as imagined catching sight of a dragon, it was a matter of public interest the world over. No details were to be had on what it looked like, where it had manifested, and if anything had gone up in flames as a result of it being there. Trixie imagined that if anything had been burned by dragon fire, it would be widely known. This one must have been on its best behaviour.

It was a testament to the magnificence of the event that Violet’s coronation was still spoken of at all, even with a dragon on the loose. Kim had sent copies of the sketches for Violet’s gown in the mail, so that Trixie could appreciate her friend’s work through them, and she could only just about hear the gasps of onlookers as she rode through the crowds in the capital. Pearl had been noted for her great beauty as she was spotted riding in a carriage with Fame behind the one that conveyed the queen.

She wrote with great amusement of how she had received at least three offers of marriage after that, but did not wish to consider them unless she was in dire need of a husband. She didn’t have any observable examples of a husband leading to greater happiness than what she could find with the love of a queen, and as long as it could maintain her she saw no need to fix herself to one. It delighted her that the clearer her position as the queen’s favourite became, the more people sought her favour, as she did not think there was anything about herself that merited such treatment.

With the imposed mourning period for the late king at an end, and the new queen’s coronation done with, it was time to set a date for the royal wedding.

Pearl had written to Trixie with promises of procuring an invitation for her, and seeing if their mother could be brought along. Perhaps, she mused, an official invitation to such a grand event would be just the thing to raise her from her bed.

Their mother clung to life so stubbornly that whatever was ailing her did not worsen, nor did it improve. Her symptoms were limited to a simple refusal to engage with the wider world in any way, as if all the bitterness in her heart had finally robbed her of her mobility. Whatever was keeping her shackled to her mortal coil was likely doing so in spite of her wishes.

If Trixie had ever formed a close bond with her, it may have been in her power to alleviate her condition. The best she could do was to keep the house running and let her mother retreat into herself, for she knew not where she could find adequate treatment for her. Sometimes she woke up in a sweat, having dreamt of taking her breakfast to her only to find herself lying in that bed instead.

She kept her mother’s windows open to let in the air, like Kim had done for her once. She dutifully sat by her side when she wanted company, and even played a song or two if she was asked. She had her meals sent to her on time, which was a small thing her father was not able to do when he had his hands on the reins. Her mother never praised her, but she never complained either.

Keeping up with news of her friends became the most important thing to her, as a way of keeping herself tethered to the world. She had almost succumbed to her sorrows once, and her fighter’s spirit would not allow that to be her eventual fate.

Valentina had written to Violet with news of her once-spurned brother receiving a peculiar visit on the eve of his wedding. She had been vague in her description of the visitor, but did say that it was a mutual acquaintance, and that dear Lady Beatrice might like to know of this strange happening. Pearl had included the news in the postscript of one of her more recent letters.

Trixie did not dare to hope, but there was only one person she cared about who might have business with Valentina’s brother, and it did bring her joy to hear that she was well. Ever since she received Pearl’s letter, she would catch herself entertaining the thought that Katya might still find her and take her away.  It did her no harm to lift her spirits with the occasional daydream as long as the chickens were fed, and the house was still standing.

Sometimes, she tried to picture herself as a married woman, but only as far as having a household of her own to run, one that would not be so surely taken away from her in due time. She could not picture her husband for the life of her, nor could she fully see Katya in that role. The life she had imagined with Katya had been different than that of a country wife, though she did think she would have liked keeping a comfortable home for her if she had wanted it. Perhaps if they ever got old and weary of travelling, they could have settled down some place where they could have a pretty view to look at from their sitting room window.

She kept Katya’s picture on her bedside table, propped up in its case so she could see it with a quick glance. Sometimes she would sit on her bed and play her lute, and she would imagine Katya there in the place of the picture. She missed the light she brought everywhere she went, she missed her laugh, and her touch, and the way she would look at her like she was a precious gift from the gods.

It was a small mercy that she could now look back on her time with Katya without pain, and it comforted her when she wanted to remember what it was like to be so happy.

***

The invitations to the royal wedding arrived one sunny morning, nestled alongside a letter from Pearl. Trixie let her mother know that she was welcome to attend, but she only shook her head at the notion, insisting that a frumpy old woman like her had no business at the court of a fashionable young queen.

“It’s up to you, and you alone, to quit wasting time,” she told her. “Pearl is so valuable to the queen that she’s been made a duchess, but the gods alone know where you will end up if you keep on refusing to apply yourself. You have all the tools you need. I’m determined to die soon, and your father can’t possibly live forever. That would be too cruel.”

Trixie left her to natter on if she wished, choosing instead to occupy her thoughts with pleasant ways she could spend the day. She decided to take a walk. There was a little copse nearby, where she could read her letter and think of how she might respond to it under the light of the sun. When she returned, she might play a little outside if the weather didn’t turn gloomy. The summer skies could be unpredictable.

She ended up on an aimless ramble, leaving the letter at home, letting her thoughts wander freely.

For a brief moment, the skies went dark, and Trixie heard a strange whoosh overhead, too alien to be the sound of thunder. Though startling, this was not followed by the coming of rain or the end of times, and clear sky was all that could be seen after the period of darkness.

Even so, she was compelled to hurry home in case there were more potential heart attacks in store for her. In doing that, she inadvertently ran headlong into the greatest of them all.

A dragon was stood on the grass near the front of her house. It was gray in colour, with small black spots and black hair growing in a mane along its neck. There was something rather horse-like about it, but it resembled the creatures she’d seen in books enough that it had to be some species of dragon. It had spared her flowers, and paid no mind to the servants crowded around the window to gaze at it in awe, as it was engrossed in covering an increasingly irate Ginger in smoke from its nostrils for what could only be its own amusement.

Katya was perched on its back, as high as she could to see as much as possible, and to be easily spotted by Trixie as she crept up the path home. She quickly dismounted when she saw her, cautiously approaching her where she stood.

Trixie stood stock still, waiting for the sight before her to vanish. She kept her eyes fixed on Katya, who only looked more solid and real the closer she got. She would have to catch up to the fact of her wildest dreams having come true when she came to be within touching distance.

Soon, Trixie would find out what Katya had been up to in the time leading up to that moment, accept her apologies for the way she had left her, and agree that they should never be parted again, at least not without sufficient notice. They would map out the life they would share together over tea, after she had introduced her guests to the household staff and worked out the best way to care for their needs, particularly those of the largest, most exotic of the group.

At that moment, though, all Trixie could do was gather her Katya into her arms.

[candlelitsoul]

Sickness, Secrets, & Love: A True Story

The steady drip of water echoes off the dark tiled walls, the lights having long since been extinguished. The chill in the air permeated the very soul, and would have sent most fleeing back to the warmth and the light. However, on this night, it was a blessing to one individual who had sought the solitude as a sanctuary, a haven where sickness could lay claim and everything you needed to combat it or ease it was close at hand. Against the ivory skin, her brown hair was tied back into a lose bun, her eyes closed against the nausea and pain. Clad in only a dark grey t-shirt and a plaid pair of shorts, she'd curled herself into a ball on the dark blue floor mat, a towel in matching colors resting under her head to give support and what comfort it could offer. One hand rested against her belly, the other cupped gently under her cheek, the warmth in both having faded to natch the frigid environment. What had started as a not so pleasant day had now given over to a worse night, but if she could help it, he would nit find out. By the time he returned the next day, she would have ridden through the worst and be hiding behind a mask of makeup and hubris that only a trained eye would be able to penetrate. Thankfully, he hadn't yet been able to work behind the veneer when she was on point, and she was able to hide the lowest days, knowing the better would soon come. That morning, she'd risen early, despite the pain and nausea, and made him a hearty breakfast of eggs, toast, three kinds of meat, orange juice, coffee, and tea. He was going to need his strength to face the day and night that was ahead, and before he'd left, he'd carried her into the living room and made love to her in front of a roaring fire. In that space of time, the sickness and pain had faded to wonderful bliss, and he'd left none-the-wiser to the turmoil raging within his soon-to-be bride. As soon as his car has pulled away, and he'd sent the last of the loving text messages, she'd made it to the stairs before the pain settled in for another round. Her knees had given way, her hands catching herself on the carpeted incline. Her nails scored the fabric as she fought the urge to cry out, and she'd been able to pull herself up the stairs and into their bedroom. Two capsules of generic Pamprin and a few sips of water later, she took a moment to let the feeling in her legs return before she set about making their bed and putting the laundry in the basket. The pain continued its torment, but she knew that, for the time being, she'd have to ignore it. He had never once come home to a dirty house, chores waiting to be done, food not ready and waiting, or even soon to be ready, with a hot cup of coffee and a lively atmosphere to greet him. She'd promised herself to never be seen as her parents had once said she was, and she'd worked hard to maintain the reputation of strong against all odds. She would not give into her pre-existing condition when her self-esteem was on the line. After folding the clean laundry and putting it away, she'd tried to eat, and yet, every piece of food that touched her lips tasted stale, flat, and somehow having decayed when it was freshly made. The smell alone was enough to turn her stomach on end. She managed to nibble some saltines while she vacuumed and dusted, but even that didn't sit long. By 3pm, she was running to the bathroom as her stomach heaved, and everything was quickly lost. She'd hoped against hope that it wouldn't continue, but now, as the midnight hour chimed on the grandfather clock downstairs, she realized how foolish it had been to hope when the odds were stacked against her. Now, all there was to do was wait, and hope the daylight brought relief, and the strength and courage to face it. If she'd been stronger, faster, more accustomed to the monthly onslaught that had encompassed her life since the age of 20, she'd have hears the small "beep" that issued outside her home. She'd have been cognizant of the front door as it opened and closed. Even reacted to his voice as it called for her, and his quickened steps minutes later as he searched the unnaturally darkened household for his love, his heart racing when she neither spoke nor appeared. However, for once in her 30 years of life, she'd been forced to give power to her body, to let it ride out the storm, becoming as useless and limp as a store bought mannequin. His steps came fast towards her, her eyes unable to open as the overhead light shone down. His hands were gentle but firm as he lifted her head onto his legs, the palm of his hand gentle tapping against her cheek to try to rouse her. Her voice issued in his panicked voice, begging her, pleading with her to wake up, to look at him, "please baby, please, wake up. Look at me". In all their years together he had never come home early, his investigations keeping him away for a solid 24 hours at a time. On this night, she'd lost the upper hand, and would have to come clean to him about this condition, and every illness she'd tried to hide from him for the past year and a half that they'd been together. He would be hurt, maybe even angry with her for keeping secrets, but he also knew she was wary of letting people take care of her. Her parents had always stated that if people knew the truth they wouldn't stay, and she couldn't bear to be away from him for anything. Even if it meant her suffering alone in silence just to have him by her side, she would never break the image she'd given him of perfect health and radiance. But now, there was no hiding behind makeup, an image, or even an act. She was caught red handed, and would have tell her story. Her eyes opened to take him in; his blue eyes shining down on her all the love he carried, his concern for her well being, but a relief that she was was back with him at last. She couldn't help but smile as his lips came down to meet hers, their rough but gentle caress sending pleasurable chills throughout her entire body. He knew well what his kisses, his very touch did to her, and it was a welcomed distraction from the ailments that still plagued her. She was once again safe, loved, and would be cared for until she was able to get back on her feet, and be the radiant and glowing love of his life once more. As he pulled back to lay beside her, his hands stroking the away the tears that had fallen, she knew she was where she was meant to be, and would never again give in to the fear of losing his love and respect when he had shown time and again that no matter the days, the distance, the sickness, or the worst the world could offer, she was forever his one and only love, that would reside in his heart for all eternity.

[inklingleesquidly]

Princess Mahi in Who Wants to Live Forever?

((a long long long overdo fan fiction of one of my favorite Splatoon OCs, Mahi, created by @pypixy / @gabplayssplatoon))

CHAPTER 3

“And so it is that those who carry the royal blood, those sired heirs who have walked the earth for centuries will come to Inkdonavia in a gathering of swords and steel to decide who will rightfully claim the throne.”

A retelling of the origin of Inkopolis’s resident Ice Queen, how she came to power, and the battles she faced to gain that power.

Chapter 2 can be found here

Word count: 4,605 words

The homecoming of the crowned princess, Mahi to the kingdom of Indonavia was not met with fanfare and celebration. The princess knew in her mind that utter silence would be her welcome after being away for over a decade and in actuality she preferred it that way. Her time in isolation had allowed her to grow accustomed to silence and solitude but there was one thing that definitely puzzled her.

She arrived in Tentafan, one of the most northern cities in the entire world and one of the biggest in Inkdonavia. Looking at it in its current state you wouldn’t believe it had a population of over 4000; fallen snow lay in heavy, disorganized piles on the streets, businesses were closed, and not a soul could be seen for miles. Mahi came to the city via a chartered taxi; the driver revealed to her why the city had been vacated.

“It was so wild; the Royals claimed eminent domain over the entire city. They made every single person leave; claiming they owned all the land the city was on anyway so they didn’t have much of a choice, what with that superstition and all. Let’s just say I’m glad I don’t live here, I’d be mad enough to kill if I had to leave my home just for some princesses’ birthday party.”

Mahi said nothing in response to the driver’s recollection, it didn’t matter to her that he probably just received money for this job and had no idea who she was. That was preferable to her. She had departed the car just outside of Tentafan; mostly by the driver’s behest as he did not wish to enter the city. Having to walk through the ice and snow was of no worry to the princess; her focus was entirely on one lone structure far in the countryside. Even in the expanse of the city, the haze of frost and snow that lingered in the air, and the faint light of the seemingly endless twilight she could see it—the castle, her home.

Correspondence with her family during her years of training had been null. What became of her mother, her father, her teachers, the servants, and others? This Gathering that had controlled her very destiny, It can wait, she thought hopefully. To see her home and family again, and possibly the chance to celebrate her eighteenth birthday with them; she held onto that wish with optimism as she traversed the way to the castle.

There was something quite off-putting to her though, she hadn’t been to the city much in her youth but when she had it was always so alive, regardless of the time of day. As much as she was used to isolation she always had the ambient noises of nature, and the company of other animals to ease her mind. Here, there was nothing making it especially maddening. Even though Mahi maintained her stride her eyes darted from side to side, wondering if she was truly alone.

I feel like I’m being watched, she thought to herself, taking a moment to adjust the single package she brought with her from the island. It was an elongated item wrapped in cloth that she kept strapped around her shoulder. She pulled it closer to her before continuing. No matter what she couldn’t shake that feeling and it only seemed to grow worse.

The paranoia she felt only increased by the moment; so much that she thought she could hear footsteps, and thought she saw figures cast in shadow.

There’s something there, she was sure of it as she saw something shift inside of a store window.

She was seeing more and more mysterious movement as she went along; even in the dim light of the sun struggling to pierce the thick heavy clouds above she could see them, whatever they were.

SMASH!

Just behind her was the earsplitting crunch of metal from something pounding on a car left on the side of the road. Hearing that, Mahi broke out into a full sprint; hoping with everything she had she could close the long distance to the castle or at the very least outrun whatever was pursuing her. A glance over her shoulder proved her fears were true, as if by some mysterious cue numerous shadow shrouded creatures started to pour out of doors and alleys. They came out of the woodwork, all wearing many different styles of heavy coats and winter clothing that obscured any distinguishing features from the princess.

She ran fast, and faster; despite the heavy, chilly air her conditioning on the island made her able to outpace her mysterious pursuers.

They came from behind, from the sides, and even started to come out in front of her to block her path. Mahi dodged them, taking the chase to the rooftops as she kicked open a random door to a random business, darted inside, and ran up to the top. They continued to follow her; bounding up ladders and fire escapes while she ran and leapt from roof to roof.

Taking one more look over her shoulder, Mahi wondered, What do they even want with me? Knowing she wasn’t going to get an answer she continued running away; jumping down from the roof she was on as the row of buildings ended at a traffic intersection. A pile of snow broke her fall but her hat fell from her head, exposing her jet black tentacles.

Before Mahi could collect her hat or her thoughts she was ambushed. They were upon her, grabbing her arms and shoving her up against the wall behind her. Mahi struggled and fought to stop them, managing to wriggle out one arm to punch one of them and kick another but it didn’t seem to have any effect. They had her completely immobilized, pinned up against the wall.

As they struggled with her, one of them began to realize something. Her hair, her eyes, the shape of her face and features, “This is the princess,” they pointed out in a masculine voice.

Mahi didn’t confirm this but there was chatter between the ones who restrained her. They all gazed at her, trying to confirm if this was true. Whether they did or not she was unsure but right after she felt a fist slam into her stomach. As strong as she was, Mahi took the hit and reflexively sunk to the ground, clutching her abdomen and gasping to retake the air that had been knocked out of her. Before she could even think of anything else, Mahi felt another strike delivered to her, this one to the back of her head. Whatever they used, she didn’t know, she wasn’t aware of anything after that, that hit had knocked Mahi out.

 Before even opening her eyes, Mahi was suddenly struck by a horribly all consuming feeling. Her body was freezing cold, from the tip of her tentacles down to the nails on her toes. The chill around her registered in her hazy brain as a thousand knives piercing her steadily numbing body, it was so painful. Her immediate desire was to warm herself but she found she couldn’t move. With her vision clearing she looked down at her legs, and at her arms; they were bound by heavy golden shackles and chains.

As unexpected as that was, as her wits came back to her she finally realized why she felt so frozen. Her clothes and boots had been stripped from her body. Even in her wooziness she recognized the little garbs she had been left with; it was the clothes given to prisoners in ancient Inkdonavia. Against the bitter cold, clothes like these were a torture device on their own but Mahi noticed they bore the colors of the Royal Family. If she were conscious enough, maybe she could’ve understood the irony of the situation she found herself in.

Her focus then shifted to what she could hear. There was some sort of commotion going on around her as well as clashing of metal from multiple sources. “Ahh, the princess is awake,” A nearby voice suddenly rang out, “Brothers, sisters, the time has finally come, the day we have all prepared for is at hand, today, we shape our destiny!” The princess was watching the Inkling man who had his back turned to her; she couldn’t quite identify their voice even though they sounded so familiar to her.

Her attention was then captured by an uproar of cheers. Looking out, Mahi could see them, probably more than 100 of them; Inklings of all kinds, all with swords and other weaponry. These people, she had never met them before in her life yet them being here meant she was bound to them by blood.

       “—And so it is that those who carry the royal blood, those sired heirs who have walked the earth for centuries will come to Inkdonavia in a gathering of swords and steel to decide who will rightfully claim the throne.” The apparent master of the ceremony called back to the prophecy that had ruled over Mahi’s very life only he had an addendum. “But who would think for the first time in Inkdonavia history this would also be the day that royal blood would be spilled!”

       They gestured to a particular spot in the expansive room; it was then that Mahi realized they were in the reception room of the castle and he pointed to the thrones that belonged to her mother and father. After not seeing them for years upon years she never could have anticipated the horror she would see. There, motionless, were the bodies of her parents staked to their thrones with swords through the necks of their Inkling bodies.

Mahi could only look on; her parents, despite all the negative feelings she had toward them were still her father and mother, and they were gone. She began to wonder what of the rest of her family, and the people who lived in the castle? The more she thought about it, the more what little there was in her stomach began to rise up in her throat. She wanted to be sick but her thoughts were drowned out by the hoots and hollers of the crowd, and the voice of the man who addressed them.

“That isn’t why we’re here though; to get the prize the one who needs to fall is the heir to the kingdom, Princess Mahi!” All eyes were then squarely on her; all of them, every last one of them wanted the same thing, her head. “The last one standing will be able to claim their prize and live forever, and the only way to ensure your legacy is eternal is with the Sword of Inkdonavia.” He unsheathed a weapon he had been carrying in his hand and displayed it before the crowd; it was a beautiful blade with gems recessed into the polished metal that glimmered brilliantly in the light. It was the same sword Mahi had returned home with.

They spun around with the sword in hand and touched the tip to Mahi’s neck. Her eyes went wide as they locked with his, “To think all those years of training were for nothing, Mahi,” the very man responsible for her learning swordsmanship whispered quietly to her, her uncle... Mahi’s mind was awash with questions; how did he arrive before her? Was he a part of the murder of her mother and father? There was so much more, and she wanted to ask every single question but he left her, leaping from the stage she was on and racing to the center of the crowd of assembled family. “No more time to waste,” he declared, “Let The Gathering begin!”

 No matter where she turned her head she saw horrific violence; limbs were severed clean from bodies, alliances formed to overwhelm other combatants only to be dissolved by a betraying attack, and that was just a start. Her stomach turned as she saw some of the fighters reach a point where they begged for their lives to be spared, only to be slain mercilessly. Heads were rolling, bodies were falling, no spot in the whole room was without these sights. In vain she shut her eyes but it couldn’t save her from hearing everything. The air was filled with blood curdling screams, metal piercing and slicing flesh, and maniacal laughter from the more experienced, bloodthirsty of them reveling in this battle.

Bound by chains and weak from the biting chill, Mahi was powerless to do anything but watch. Creatures, so many of them, they shared the same blood and family heritage as her; she knew nothing about any of them and here they were fighting each other to the death. Death… in this frenzied battle royale, that’s all there was to see, and all that has come from this whole prophecy was death.

Why are they doing this, Mahi tried to think over all the yelling and bashing of metal. Don’t they have families; don’t they have anything, why would they come to this just to die? She quivered from more than just the cold. Is this why we were all born? Just to come to this so we could die? Is this what I was born for? Being in this bloodline is a curse. Her thought trailed off as she witnessed more gruesome finishes. One of the only ways to kill an Inkling was to separate their head from their core and she bore witness to that repeatedly. Another scream of terror was abruptly cut off and something suddenly donned in Mahi’s mind.

Why do I have to do this? Why did I have to be put through all this? I’ve had no control over my life, she thought. That single thought revolved around and around in her head; it made her tighten her fists, then unclasp them. She opened her eyes despite the brutality that sickened her earlier and thought, I’m done with this.

In the state she was in, Mahi wouldn’t realize what her internal decree truly meant. The whirlwind of emotions she had; anger, sadness, regret, fear, sickness—they all just vanished. Despite the atrocities she was still witnessing, the deaths of her parents, and the life she had lost to reach this day, she hadn’t any feelings anymore.

Her heart had gone cold.

The cold, it surrounded her more intensely now but the strange thing was it no longer pained her anymore, in fact she could feel the air around her getting colder and colder still. Whether it was her own will, Mahi didn’t know but she witnessed something utterly miraculous, the chains that bound her arms were being covered in ever-increasing ice crystals. She came to find that the chains were merely gold plated and were made of brittle metals that the solidifying liquid seeped deep into. With this ice encasing the chain, they were weakened enough for her to tear her arms, and then her legs free from captivity.

“THE PRINCESS HAS ESCAPED,” one of the fighters gasped, summoning the attention of everyone who remained standing in the battle royale. Without sparing a moment, the squid charged at her, his weapon raised high above his head. When he was within range he brought it down upon her but Mahi didn’t even bat an eye. She stopped the strike with just her bare hand. That would’ve been surprising by itself for the swordsman but he bore witnessed ice quickly forming around his weapon and soon his hands which sent him into a panic. He struggled and tried to yank his arms, screaming as ice crept along his arms and up his legs. The last thing he saw before being left encased in a block of frost was the pitiless glare of Mahi.

She let go of the blade, only the tip left exposed to the frigid air as she set her sights on the rest of her brethren. Battle cries turned into cries of fear as the floor beneath their feet was turned to ice, and exits and windows were blocked by sharp, jagged shards; there would be no escape. Some tried in vain to run for their lives only to find themselves frozen, immobilized, and soon trapped. Others tried to fight, whether it was hacking away at the princesses’ icicle assault or trying to reach her in order to stop her, they couldn’t hope to approach her. They were stuck to the floor, pinned to the wall, or trapped without hope of escape in their ice block prisons.

Mahi’s unflinching, unwavering glare of apathy didn’t fade during her counterattack. Some of them, whom she may have called brother or sister begged for their lives, but their pleas fell on deaf ears. She spared no one, but saved one of them in particular for last.

In what seemed like no time at all every last one of them was encased in ice except for the man that Mahi knew as her uncle. He clutched the family sword in his hands; despite his expertise he seemed unwilling to use it. “M-M-Mahi,” he stuttered timidly, “C-c-control yourself, please, I-I know you might be angry.”

That was the thing he didn’t get though, she wasn’t, and she didn’t show it even as she approached with the same intent for him as the others. He continued to beg and plead with her, “You wouldn’t hurt me, would you, think of all the time we spent together,” but she wasn’t listening. “We’re family right, I’m your uncle, I’m your uncle” he tried to remind her but that didn’t stop her or the buildup of ice all around her. “Okay, okay, fine,” he was getting desperate, so desperate that he loudly admitted, “I’m not actually you’re uncle!”

A proclamation like that came out of nowhere, so out of nowhere it managed to cause Mahi to halt in her steps and silently stare at him with curiosity. Wanting desperately to save his own skin, he began to explain, there was far more to the story then she knew. “I was just employed by the king and queen; all of them were, every last one of them,” he spoke for the others trapped in ice, “They paid us, they made us all rich, and all we had to do was come here and fight in front of you!”

“What are you babbling about,” Mahi replied unable to understand what he was trying to say. In hopes of explaining himself, her uncle opened his quote and shakily handed her a collection of haphazardly folded, yellowed pieces of paper. She took them, proclaiming, “Don’t move a muscle,” before opening to read and discovering what was unmistakably King Maritimus’ handwriting.

There were correspondences dating back to her years training on the island and well before that, and one in particular stuck out to her most. This letter said, “The prophecies and superstitions can’t protect the royal family forever and with the gathering of heirs coming to pass but we can not allow impure blood to sully the kingdom’s royal heritage. The princess has a power within her that could variably change the world as we know it. We must do everything she can to ensure she unlocks her true potential and the name of the royal family can live on for eternity.” She came to see that through each letter that every day of her life had been accounted and planned in secret and what she read next made her realize everything.

“You and your students are to fight in Inkdonavia under the pretense of being the heirs arriving for The Gathering. The Queen and I shall take our own lives so that Mahi may bear witness to the atrocities that will numb her heart, and in turn alter her into the tyrant that will shape this land into a memorial of the royal family’s power. Your sacrifices will be a small but invaluable footnote and will be rewarded with proper compensation.”

The final passage summed up everything for her, “Make her our avatar of eternal life at all costs.”

Her uncle watched her read the entire time, eventually he nervously stammered, “So umm—t-that’s everything, are you gonna let me go?” He jumped as her head whipped to look at him, her eyes boring through the man who once commanded every facet of her existence. He now shook in fear at her stare, and was shaking even more as ice began to form and quickly spread out along the ground. He screamed and began to cower more as his hands and feet were trapped and the ice was beginning to cover him, the air even became hard to breathe as it grew colder, and heavier.

Unbeknownst to him, and unforeseen by the king, the queen, and anybody involved, Mahi wasn’t growing numb, she was getting angry.

“This was it,” she said under her breath, “IS THIS WHAT YOU ALL WANTED,” she screamed out loud. Her voice echoed off the walls which were steadily becoming enveloped in more ice. She pointed to her uncle, “Your greed and theirs,” regarding the frozen corpses in the room, “You’ve willingly thrown your lives away for money and-and what else?”

Her eyes then scanned the bodies of her parents, “And them; every day of my life they controlled me, made me do everything to bend to their will; give me no choice, no say, and not for me, for themselves.” She thought back to her life; how every single solitary moment of it was decided for her. Every instance she could recall, her life was structured and scheduled with nothing she could do about it. From her childhood in Inkdonavia, to her adolescence on the island, to even now, it was never in her controly.

Her fists tightened, the ice spread out faster and became thicker. He uncle’s screams became muted as he was finally covered but he was able to hear and see her fury. “No more, not anymore, I won’t be lied to, I won’t be controlled by anyone, I won’t be their toy, I won’t be their tool,” she growled, stomping her foot, making the air around her completely freeze. “If this is what you all want, then you can have it, you wanted everything from me, so take it, TAKE IT!” As a final statement she threw her fists into the air, and the last thing that could be seen by anyone still alive in the castle of pure whiteness.

 That day more than 100 Inklings entered the castle of the royal family and in the end only one walked out. Princess Mahi, or rather Queen Mahi was victorious but not in the way anyone who orchestrated these events could’ve anticipated. If you all want to live forever than go right ahead, she thought to herself. She stepped away from what she once called home, a home in which everything and everyone in it would sit for eternity, like sculptures. All was permanently shrouded in never melting ice courtesy of the magic she had within her.

Mahi came to find something truly astonishing outside of the castle. The sun’s rays shown so unreasonably bright; it hung overhead, shining through a wide open ring of blue sky directly over the castle. The sun was so bright it nearly blinded her, and made her realize a change occurred within her. Her ink, it had gone from jet black to pure white but as she thumbed at her tentacles she felt something unbelievable beneath her feet. Grass, green grass; something beneath her feet that hadn’t been seen in this region of Inkdonavia for generations, and here it was gently being caressed by an unseasonably warm Spring wind.

How this happened, she was unsure. Mahi reasoned that her powers collected all the moisture in the surrounding area to accrue that much ice in order to freeze the castle completely. Despite that thought there was something about the setting laid out before her; everything was so clean, so serene, and so very new. As she left behind every last one of the memories of what her life used to be, she smiled for the first time in ages. She herself was ready to start anew.

To start with, Mahi called a meeting with the Prime Minister of Inkdonavia. There she closed her family’s claim of imminent domain over the city of Tentafan and as a generous gift to the city and the country as a whole she sold all of the land her family claimed ownership over. The mountains, the forests, the coastline, all of it, she even sold the property in which the castle was built on; claiming it didn’t matter anymore  to her and they could do with it whatever they pleased.

In the end they decided to leave the castle as is; nobody knew what had happened but they admired the beauty of the sleet and frost that covered it all over. It gave the appearance that the entire castle had been constructed out of ice, ice that would not melt despite the temperate temperatures of that one stretch of land.

She left it all behind; a hefty sum of money to her name as a result of selling all that land. With that she went to somewhere far far away from Inkdonavia, somewhere she had held a particular interest in for quite awhile.

 A stretch limousine came to a stop, many pedestrians stopping in their daily business to eye the luxurious  vehicle, and the equally affluent  passenger who stepped out. Mahi quietly observed the heart of the city, and took particular notice of the busy plaza across the street with a tall tower coiled around by a gargantuan creature. “So,” she said to herself, “This is Shee-Booyah, the trendiest part of Inkopolis and the birth place of Turf Wars, is it?” She could see numerous teenagers congregating, socializing, and engaging in all manner of other activities. “Once the movers have finished maybe I’ll come play a match or two,” she mused to herself.

“Rrrowl.”

Mahi’s attention was summoned by her only company, a mature black panther bounded out of the limo and despite the screams of multiple onlookers it nuzzled and licked at Mahi’s hand. “Sir Credence, what’s the matter,” she chastised her pet, “I know it’s been a long trip but be patient, I’d like to take some time to admire our new home.” It growled in protest which only caused Mahi to shake her head, “Okay fine, I can tell you’re uneasy.” She held the big cat’s face in her palms and struck a deal, “I tell you what we’ll find a market in town and I’ll buy you a nice snack since you’ve been so well behaved, how does that sound?”

“Huff,” it released a chuffing noise in response.

She laughed, “Okay, okay, you can have Prime cuts, after all you were such a good boy on the flight.” It seemed to be reasonably satisfied with that deal as it purred and tilted its head to lick her palms.

A thought had suddenly come to her; in that moment she had remembered her real blood relations were still out there and possibly looking to fulfill their destiny. There was also her blood related sister—she put all those thoughts out of her head. Feeling satisfied herself, Mahi brushed her manicured fingers under the terrestrial animal’s chin, “You know Sir Credence, I could see myself living in this city forever.” A second thought then came to her, “But then again forever is an awful long time, and who wants to live forever?”