Princess Filipa, once the fairest maiden of Nelaime, now lies in her castle, within the highest tower. She sleeps alone, dreaming of the moment she will awaken.
Milda, atop her steed, has been journeying across the sleeping kingdom for months, searching desperately for the beautiful maiden she saw in her dreams. She remembers seeing her one night, the vision ever so clear in her memory.
...
She's never seen the forest before, not even in her many years of travelling the world. It is quiet, peaceful, not filled to the brim with ghastly beasts or murderous criminals. At the corner, Milda even sees a pair of horses grazing at the jade grass.
The forest is not dark. Instead, the ground is dappled green and gold by sunlight shining through the trees. The grass is dotted with flowers of every kind — cerulean bluebells, vermillion poppies, topaz daffodils. Milda is alone to marvel at its beauty… or so she thinks.
"It appears that you'll be making history, Lady Laurinaitis."
Milda turns at the sound of her title and gasps. Walking towards her is the most breathtaking woman she has ever seen. Her golden hair is cut short and grazes her chin, crowned by a ring of woven blossoms. Her eyes are the shade of the trees arching above; her figure and skin, porcelain and perfect. The woman steps in her direction with movement as fluid as water and footsteps delicate as flower petals, wearing an easy smile that makes Milda rather light-headed.
"A-Are you real?" Milda asks. "A woman this beautiful cannot be real."
The woman giggles at that, and the mere sound makes Milda feel faint. "Thanks for the compliment," she says. "I am real. The forest isn't. In reality, I am asleep in a tower, hidden behind thorns. Twelve princesses before me were subjected to the same fate, and yet only men rescued them. You, Milda, will be the first woman to save those such as I."
"What?"
"Surely you have heard of the Apocalypses, Milda? The First, up until the Twelfth?" She takes Milda's hand with that carefree smile, and the lady practically feels her soul leave her body. "They all were caused by princesses cursed by evil. Too late the princes went to save them, or too selfish they were to stop the curse. I, Filipa, am destined to cause the Thirteenth Apocalypse. The curse within me is destined to end the world. Unless…"
"Unless what?" Milda presses.
"Unless you come save me, my dear. Wake me up with a true love's kiss, and the curse will be lifted. That, the others told me, is how we can prevent the world's destruction."
"So all I have to do is find you and wake you, and everything will be fine?"
"Exactly." Filipa's smile fades a little. "I was put to sleep by a spindle, like those before me, almost one hundred years ago, and locked in my own bedroom. Those who cursed me are determined to keep me away from you, so that the world will be destroyed once more. But you won't let that happen, will you?"
"I would sooner die than let somebody like you suffer," Milda says. "This I promise you, Filipa — I shall find you, I shall wake you up, and we shall live far, far away from all this."
Filipa curtsies, turning around and away from her. "I'll await your arrival then, Lady Milda Laurinaitis. Until we cross paths in real life."
…
Milda is getting closer to Filipa's tower, and she can feel it. Her horse is getting exhausted and starts to slow, having travelled with Milda for a while now. She dismounts, giving the horse a pat on the head. "We're almost there, Stovas. After this, you will have a new friend, and we'll go back home, all right?"
Stovas whinnies in response.
The sun is setting when Milda sees the vine-choked spire of Filipa's tower in the distance. She spurs Stovas onwards in excitement, only for him to rear so quickly his mistress almost falls off.
Calming her horse down, Milda peers over his mane to see a thicket of thorns just as tall as she is right in front of her. She jumps to the ground again, this time drawing her sword and approaching the thicket as though facing a viper.
Slicing the blade into the spiny plants, Milda puts her sword-fighting skills to good use as she hacks her way to Filipa.
…
The sun rises, breaches the sky, and sets again, and still Milda does not waver in her attack. Although her arms ache and her breath hitches, she persists. Broken plants litter the ground and water it with their emerald blood, the pile growing with each slice.
It takes Milda three days and three nights to clear the path to Filipa's tower, with only a few mouthfuls of water filling her belly. She pulls two apples out of a satchel on Stovas, feeding him one of them while quickly polishing off the other. Now the long-abandoned castle is mere steps away.
She leaves Stovas at the entrance of the castle and ventures inside herself. The wooden doors swing open with one push, revealing a silent hallway lined with nothing but dust. Milda steps inside, her sword clutched like a lifeline. Every step echoes, being the only sound in the eerie place.
Luckily for Milda, the castle is not hard to navigate and she finds the tower soon enough. She sheathes her sword and climbs the steps, one hand bracing herself against the crumbling stone walls. Her heart beats in its staccatoed frenzy — she knows that every second brings her closer to Filipa, closer to saving the world.
The flights of spiral stairs give way to a door, where Filipa is sure to be slumbering. Without hesitation, Milda grabs the doorknob and tries to turn it, but to no avail. She draws her sword and swings it against the knob, hearing the screech of metal against metal and a clunk.
The door swings open.
The room behind it is plain, holding a desk, a chest of drawers and, at the very centre, a bed. Snuggled beneath the sheets is the princess herself, her chest rising and falling with each soft breath. Filipa's hands are folded over her heart, a tiny smile on her face as she sleeps.
She is even more gorgeous in person.
Feeling a shyness suddenly settle over her, Milda nears Filipa self-consciously. Now standing over the blonde's slumbering form, she clenches her fists, ignores her shaking knees and bends over Filipa.
Milda gently presses her lips to Filipa's, feeling herself blush furiously as she stands up. She stumbles and sighs in relief when she does not fall on top of Filipa.
Filipa's eyes flutter, and she blinks once, twice, before they open wide. Milda starts when she realises that. She holds out a hand and prays that Filipa does not push it away.
She takes it.
"Milda?" The princess breathes. She sits up, unshed tears glittering. Milda gives the ghost of a smile and helps her out of bed, protectively wrapping one arm around Filipa's waist as her feet touch the ground.
Filipa weeps, lowering her head. "You came to save me," she whispers. "You really did!" And, as quickly as she began to cry, she laughs and throws her arms around Milda. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Her face breaks into a wide grin and Milda hugs Filipa tighter, dipping her head to kiss her on the forehead. "Of course," she says. "I love you!" She gestures to the window and the castle's entrance. "Let's go, Filipa. My horse is downstairs, and we can leave all of this behind."
"I can finally see the world," Filipa gushes. "I am sure that much has changed after one hundred years. I can't wait to—" She cuts off her sentence with a gasp, pushing away from Milda.
"Filipa? What's wrong?"
She is muttering rapidly, holding onto the bed behind her for support. "This can't be!" Milda hears. "They promised that the curse would lift when I woke up, they said I'd be fine. They lied, didn't they?"
Filipa looks up at Milda, and she notices with a jolt that Filipa's beautiful green eyes have rotten to a cold, dead black. She watches in horror as hands curl into claws, teeth grow pointed and the princess' beautiful face twist with a scream. "Filipa!"
"The curse is still there!" She shouts. "If this goes on, I will end the world. Please, Milda, for the sake of everyone, kill me!"
Milda's hand creeps to her sword as she backs away. "I can't! There has to be another way to stop this!"
She is on the ground now, shaking violently as claws grasp at invisible things. "There is no other way," she gasps. "To end all this, I'm going to have to die."
Desperately, Milda picks Filipa up in her arms, ignoring her struggling. "If that's the case…" she staggers to the window, breaking the glass with one strike. "I won't let you die alone."
"Don't!"
She is silenced by a kiss, tears flowing once more as Milda runs one hand through her hair. "I love you, Filipa. Not even death can change that."
Milda's lips are still against Filipa's as the two launch out of the window.
A/N: This story is based in The Thirteenth Apocalypse, a song composed by Hitoshizuku-P and yama, performed by the Vocaloids Kagamine Rin and Len.
Fun fact: Milda's horse, Stovas, is named literally "horse" in Lithuanian.