Damsel In Distress


Chapter 1: Not As It Seems

Her plea rang through the courtyard ominously, sweeping sound out of her tower and away through the grounds. The dying trees groaned as the wind pressured their creaky boughs in earnest. The currents also aided the raw scent of dragon and allowed it to grow and swirl against the blood stained earth, rattling the bones of failed trials all around him. The last light of day bounced off the multitude of armour and swords all around the yard. Its beauty was tarnished by the fact that it looked more like an armory had exploded in front of the ruins. The stone walls had gaping holes in them, some old, and some new from when Soul Evans had lured the beast forth, its massive body sluggish and lumbering; not at all the graceful beast he had read about in legends.

Soul removed his sword from the dragon's hide, wiping away the inky blood as best he could, before sheathing it. He had succeeded where hundreds of others had failed, but the feeling was short lived. The man stumbled away from the carcass in a daze at what he had actually done. As he heard her cry again, he was reminded that the mission was not yet over, not until he had returned with the princess. The voice echoed through the blood soaked battlefield, the wreckage the best had caused

He ignored his fallen shield, his left arm was too wounded to carry it anyway, and proceeded to limp out of the courtyard with alert red eyes on the shadows.

She was rumoured to have been locked in the highest room of the tallest tower, and he loathed the idea of having to walk such a multitude of stairs for just a simple woman, princess or no. As Soul ascended, he had to keep in mind what the King had promised him; glory, gold freedom from his contract. All these were enough to propel him higher up the tower. The moonlight slipped through the occasional window, guiding him up the stones till he reached the wooden door that separated him from the princess. This was the moment of truth. He could hear her cries for help, so frightened and desperate, and used the last of his strength to knock down the door only to fall to the chamber's floor easily.

A hiss of pain escaped his lips and he struggled to his feet. "Please excuse me, Princess, I-"

The sounds had stopped the instant he had opened the door. The chamber was relatively empty, and had only a tapestry and a bed situated by the window. Long, gossamer curtains shrouded the princess' body, but he could see her outline laying down, the picturesque silence of the tower was unsettling. Perhaps he had frightened her…

With each new step, he grew more anxious. He was certainly not what she'd expect with his bloody eyes, sharp smile, and moonlight hair, he resembled a painted demon more than a knight . He replaced his helmet upon his head before raising a quivering hand to draw back the curtains. He did so and revealed the body of a young maiden.

Or what was left of her.

He flinched away from the bones and fell back, shocked at what lay on the bed. It was not only a skeleton but the beams of light caught the glittering coins within. There was gold everywhere. It filled her rib cage and skull, coated her bony legs to make it seem like there was still flesh attached to the pale sticks. What was happening? Soul returned to her bedside and cautiously pick up a coin, looking at its insignia. It was that of his kingdom, certainly, with the reigning King's countenance pressed onto the side. His orbs inspected the remains once more, amazed and disappointed all at once. He had come for a princess but her skeleton would be the only thing he'd be bringing back to her parents. It seemed like a monstrous thing to do simply by looking at it.

As he returned the coin to its home in her eye sockets, he noticed a piece of paper just beneath the pillow. He pulled it out and examined its contents, growing more and more surprised as he read on.

Dear Knight,

Congratulations on managing to slay the dragon guarding the princess. Unfortunately, a fever took the princess' life in the absence of a rescue. We offer you 10,000 gold coins in exchange for your silence of her death. This gold should be enough for you to start a new life outside of your kingdom therefore you need not return. There is a bag near our late princess' head. It is large enough (and imbued with magic) to carry all of the coins.

We thank you for your service.

-the Knights of Gorgon

"Dead?" The word was unsettling even if Soul knew it to be true. And indeed the whole ordeal seemed a bit too surreal. Enough gold to change his name and start anew elsewhere? He'd never have to deal with his flippant royal highness ever again. He would forsake the notion of glory if he could have gold and freedom. It seemed a good a deal as any. Only…

He recalled the King's request grimly; the man's desperation to be reunited with the child that was stolen from him. Every man he had sent to this decrepit place was killed and his desire for his daughter increased. Soul felt the early twinges of guilt, but tried to beat it down with fact. The King was selfish and too easily swayed by his advisers. He could always send another knight once it became apparent that Soul himself would not be returning. He had already slayed the dragon after all. The next knight could bring the princess' bones back home.

But the King had begged Soul for his aid, promising him anything he desired if he returned with the princess.

The knight sighed heavily. This was ridiculous. Perhaps he'd rest here for a night and decide in the morning so his guilt and desire could resolve itself in dreams. That idea certainly sounded like the best one. Exhausted, he shuffled over to the woven tapestry which was, oddly enough, dust-less. Regardless, it would have to do as a blanket, he reasoned, for he had no intentions of sleeping with what remained of the princess.

Wrapping his good hand around the side, he pulled sharply, however the tapestry remained firmly latched onto the wall. Exhaustion gave way to curiousity and he tried again with no significant results.

How odd that some commonplace tapestry would refuse to fall over Soul's strength. The dragon had not taken all of his power. Surely there was some in reserve. The knight hazarded a look behind the thing to check if it was caught on the rough stones, but found instead that there was a sizable hole perfectly hidden by the tapestry's length. "How-" he choked, for the only possible thing on the other side of the tower's wall was the air and sky. The princess would not exactly be trapped in the tallest room of the tallest tower if there was an exit conveniently placed behind the artwork.

Perhaps a painting? Soul reasoned, but reason was steadily failing him as he stuck a hand out and found that it sunk through the wall and into this tunnel of sorts. It was impossible...and yet not because it was truly happening. Was it witchcraft? The knight took a shallow breath, pulled back the tapestry and stepped within.

Instantly, the air had shifted. No longer was he facing the warm, evening air of the tower but instead the dimly lit dankness of the cellar tunnel. It reminded him very much of the castle's underground workings, something he was too familiar with. But the flickering fire light burned a dull gold as if to remind him of the coins he'd momentarily abandoned.

The armour jangled as he moved, forbidding any stealth on his part at all. He half wished to strip himself of all the clanging metals but reminded himself that the main purpose was strength and protection instead. The dankness of the cave slithered through the slits of his armour, past chain mail and tunic so that it settled in a rather unwelcome state on his skin. It filled his nostrils with similar weight. Soul withheld speech, using his keen ears to catch any sound possible, but his armour's clanking deafened him to whatever lay within the tunnel.

Soul had been fancying himself quite lost in what had revealed itself to be a labyrinth until, after turning a particular corner, he heard the barest sliver of laughter drifting through the hall. The stairs had long since ceased their descent, the series of tunnels drawing the young knight deeper, and deeper still he went, the sounds of mirth wetting his curiousity The sounds grew louder as he progressed and Soul was suddenly struck by a peculiar notion. He had heard the princess calling for help when he fought the dragon. Her voice had been quite desperate and pleading. But the instant he opened the door to her bedchamber, the sounds had vanished as if they never were. Had she lured him to the tower just to escape through the strange tunnel behind the tapestry? Perhaps he was going mad or was stuck in some dream. He rather hoped it was a dream, for with the princess dead, there was no chance of an equally happy outcome on both the King's and Soul's part. The knight took another step towards the sounds, the gleeful thrill nearly infectious as he approached.

"That's ridiculous and you know it," a woman laughed.

"But it's true. He took one look, wet himself, and took off. I've never seen more embarrassing cowardice," another woman put in, making the others laugh loudly.

"But it's not even that hard," laughed a new voice.

Soul hazarded a few more steps, cursing his noisy metal and hoping to glimpse the strange women within. He was quite near to them when he was forced to freeze, a voice slipping past the armour and into his ears. "What do you think you're doing?"

Immediately his hand went to his weapon, but a sharp blade was instantly pressed to his throat's light flesh, a palm striking his away from the unsheathed sword. "Let's not be too hasty. Who are you and how did you find this place?"

The knight contemplated fighting back but did not think it wise. The foe was clearly superior in speed considering that any sudden movement could end with his throat slit, he decided that compliance would be more easily associated with his survival. "I am a knight," he said finally. "I found my way here using an odd staircase of sorts in the highest room of the tallest tower."

The blade eased away from his Adam's apple which now bobbed slightly to his relief. "You are a knight?"

"I am. Of Elderheim. And you are whom?"

"I am a guardian and a victim of this place. But I do not understand. The tower has but one staircase. How could you have arrived at this place?"

"There is a second set behind the tapestry as impossible as it may seem. Perhaps I could show you it if you could but lower your blade."

"That will not be necessary," the stranger vowed, pulling away from him as fluidly as they had arrived. He turned to face them only to be struck by their soft appearance. This girl, this woman, wore a thin gown that rivaled that of the healthiest leaves, her eyes mimicking the shade dully. Her ashen hair was braided down her back and he could see wisps of it peek out by her waist as she tilted her head to look at him. The blade in her hand returned to a sheath which hung from a dark brown belt about her hips. It sat there loosely as if it would fall from her figure at any moment but simply chose not to. The woman eyed Soul cautiously, studying him just as he had studied her. "You are of Elderheim, yes?" He nodded mutely. "Then you must also know that your fair lady has passed from this world."

"Yes, I do know this. However, this place-"

"Is none of your concern," she finished. "Take your gold and leave this place. Forever. You should not be here. It should not be possible."

"But I heard-"

"You heard nothing. I know your type." The woman leered. "Knights are not as self-less as they claim to be. If you are here seeking more treasure, then I suggest you return to the exit from which you came and leave with the coins you found."

"Maka!" The word echoed through the tunnels, bouncing off walls and resonating through his armour. "Maka, where are you?"

"I'm coming!" the woman called back before a scowl twisted her fair features as she focused on him again. "Go home, Sir Knight. You have no need to be here."

"But here I am. What are you hiding here?"

"It is none of your business."

"I wish to make it my business. Where am I?"

"No."

The woman tried to step past him but Soul blocked her way resolutely, the sudden movement making his head spin a bit. "Where am I, Maka?"

That seemed to bother her. "You have no right to speak my name," she hissed with violent anger, trying to push past him, "and knights have no right to be within these walls."

"Why not? Explain this place to me." The demand was almost a shout and the woman before him took an angry step back.

"Now you've done it."

He whirled, expecting to face a foe but finding instead a group of women looking at him with a great deal of curiousity and, if he wasn't misreading them, excitement.

"Um, hello?"

There was a communal squeal from them and Soul found himself being pulled deeper into the labyrinth by these bubbly maidens. They all seemed so enthused at his arrival, each girl speaking to him at the same time in a flurry. He didn't fight the them and allowed himself to simply flow alongside them, trying with difficulty to carry on multiple conversations at once. Every once and a while, he would glance back at Maka and catch her calculated expression, like she was working out something very important within her mind.

Very soon, Soul found himself in a large, lavish room. It was brightly lit in comparison to the rest of the halls, with enchanting candles floating above a round table sitting in the middle of the room. Distinct looking chairs surrounded it, each one decorated in uniquely different ways. More than anything else it was colourful, and colour as bright as these could only be found in asking court. Each chair had varying degrees of comfort. Some were quite plain with only carved wood. Others had cushions, painted flowers adorning the dull brown beneath, and they were beautiful. The women flitted from his side to take their seats, and with each seated maiden, the candles grew brighter than ever. "What is this place?" Soul breathed, the illuminated room appearing more cavernous and brilliant than before. He could now glimpse a long intricate painting that covered nearly the entire room. The story it was trying to tell was difficult but no less important, no doubt, to the women gathered.

"You are in our meeting room," a fair haired woman pointed out. "You must have come a long way. Sit."

The knight found himself seated in the blink of an eye the instant her echo had faded from his ears. "Wha- How did this happen?"

"It's magic," a dark haired maiden exclaimed, looking at her peers eagerly. "Can we keep him?"

"No." Red flicked over to meet the soft green of Maka's eyes. "A man has not been here in years. He must go."

"But he can't!" The girl exclaimed, turning to him suddenly. "You won't leave, will you? You're a knight. We can tell it clear as day. You have a mission from the king, don't you?"

"Yes. By the king of Elderheim."

"Elderheim?" The girl frowned, turning to the raven haired mistress beside her. "Jackie, isn't that where you lived?"

"Yes, it was." It did not take him long to study her and recognize the maiden as King Dupre's lost daughter. Her house's crest had been carved into her chair, a matching one adorning his armour. She looked a great deal like her mother with the same flowing locks down to her flashing eyes alight with nervous hope that was very much not dead.

"You're Princess Jacqueline?" She looked to be the princess, certainly, but he could sense the strangeness of this palace. It was unnatural, and though he could not quite place it, there was something very familiar about the place.

"I am. You are here to return me to my Father?"

"I am, your highness."

"Oh, I am not that," she said hurriedly. "We carry no titles, save Lady and our given names. Royal blood means nothing here."

"And here would be?" he posed as a lightheaded feeling began creeping up on him.

Lady Jacqueline gave a hesitant look around the table. "Perhaps we will introduce ourselves first and then describe our home. As you know, I am Lady Jacqueline of Elderheim. And you?"

"The knight Soul of Elderheim."

"This," she gestured to the spirited girl between them, "is Lady Tsugumi of Heartsdale." The girl waved. "We also have among us Ladies Kim, Tsubaki, Anya, Elizabeth, Patricia, and Meme. Some others are sleeping, you see."

"And the Lady Maka?" he offered carefully, watching his words pull the girl from her thoughts sharply.

"What about her?" asked Jacqueline.

"You did not mention her."

"I do not like being mentioned," Maka snapped back.

"Indeed, she does not," agreed Jacqueline, "and now, Soul, you wish to learn of this place?"

"I do."

"Then you must play close attention, for it is a story we do not like to repeat. Many years ago, five kingdoms united under one flag in an attempt to rid magic from the land. They did not realize the nature of the sorcery nor did they acknowledge the altruistic uses for centuries. They took to killing women whom they believed to possess magical capabilities. They believed that magic ran through the maternal line, and that by ridding the country of magic women, it would kill the sources of magic itself. True sorcerers were of both gender and they were outraged at their persecution. In an attempt to cease the fighting, a powerful sorceress declared that she would curse each king if they did not cease.

"They did not. And upon the royal army's arrival to the sorcerer's house, she placed a curse on them; that their daughters would be taken from them, never to be seen again. Unbelieving, the kings tried to put her to the torch but she escaped. They returned to their respective kingdoms; those with daughters found that they had vanished indeed. Their sons were untouched, but were no less affected than their fathers. The kingdoms did a great deal of smothering of the secret, and slowly, the royal family began to forget because while many daughters vanished, not all of them did. What they did not understand was that our prisons, the towers, matched the number of daughters alive at the time of the curses enactment. Upon a princess' death, the curse would take another child, the newest female in the royal line. This curse has existed for centuries. It is why there always seems to be a damsel in distress. Because there is never truly a shortage of damsels."

"But none of you are in your towers…" His arm felt a bit numb now and Soul kept it cradled to his chest. In fact, his legs were feeling particularly heavy.

"It is because the sorceress' child took pity on us," Lady Kim admitted. "Many princesses killed themselves in their desperation to end the solitude. Some forgot that not all princesses are locked in their towers. That is simply the best place to observe if help is on its way. Regardless, the sorceress' young child imparted some of their mother's magic to the princesses and any other inhabitant of the tower. With it, the earliest princesses created an underground labyrinth that linked multiple towers to each other with portals that could only be utilized by the princess herself."

"So that was what I walked through. A portal!"

"Indeed. Perhaps Jacqueline left her portal open," remarked Maka coldly.

"I must have forgotten to close it," the girl admitted, although she didn't seem so displeased with it. "Either way, it means I can go home!"

"A princess has not returned home alive in many years," Maka warned. "Is it safe?"

"It must be! It has strong knights like Soul protecting it. You even killed the dragon, didn't you?" He was suddenly under their attention again, the memories of pain and blood fresher than he would have liked in the presence of such nobility. He barely noticed Lady Maka rise, eyeing him cautiously as she moved around the table towards him.

"I did."

"But you did not take the gold."

"I did not."

"Then you are noble!" She turned to the others at the table with a broad smile. "He is reflection of what my kingdom has become. Perhaps our curse can be broken."

"If he has come from Elderheim, perhaps a prince from my kingdom will arrive soon as well!" Lady Kim said wistfully.

"Are there others with you? Do they know of your quest?" asked another princess, eager for the answer.

"All in Elderheim know of Lady Jacqueline's disappearance."

"Then there is still hope!"

"That would be wonderful!" cheered Tsugumi and Soul found the dizziness settle over him quicker than before, his eyes catching the painted stone of the ceiling rapidly as he fell from the stool. Hair and head never connected with the floor and the roof was replaced by fair hair and a blurry visage.

"He's losing blood, Kim," she instructed. "Use the portals to take you to the infirmary. He will not die, but the battle has taken its toll on his body. If you are in dire need of aid, summon Free. The 'shifter will know what to do."

"Yes, Maka."

He entered the darkness feeling like he was floating on air, the only remaining sense being the pale fingers brushing his bangs away from his forehead with uncharted delicacy.