Happy Thursday everyone,
I should admit here (though I say this on Twitter all the time, also you should follow me because I am witty) that this story scares me to write. That's not really strange because Love Hack had its moments too. However, I've never written fantasy, or about caves or serious injuries, or had a 'hatecute' meeting in a story. I wonder and worry if the love story in my head will be as epic as the one I manage to write. I just wanted to let you know that I appreciate your support so very much. There are times, where literally, a comment or kudo helps me face a blank page with vigor instead of worry.
In this chapter, we continue through the Caverns of Soros. There's some definite turbulence and we meet Flo. Flo gently discusses things with Regina and Emma after they cross the bridge while wearing unique headwear.
Also, there's dark places and deals.
Enjoy your glass of endless alcohol or your mug of endless random beverage.
This is your captain speaking.
It is said that after Muirgein killed her sister, she knew only despair. She wandered the world, seeking a way to restore her sister's child. For a time, dark creatures traveled with her. Legend says they were magic users she'd caught and twisted in her search for power. They are no more now and no one knows what became of them. But, some wonder if they are truly gone. There are noises that come from deep in the Caverns of Soras and those who journey to investigate what they are, never return. For as long as there has been a Whitranni Kingdom and generations before that, the Caverns have been feared. - Jole MallyScan, historian.
Garden of Heroes
Of Powerlessness and Swords
Even in sleep, Regina didn't forget where she was. As she woke, her fingers patted at her head, immediately remembering the absence of her crown.
The savior wasn't awake. Good. She kept trying, whenever the savior was distracted, to use her magic.
Her whole body felt bruised and the hard ground pressed into her uncomfortably, but it was manageable when she lay still. She ignored the pain and flicked her fingers and in the same moment sought her magic, commanding it to make the fire flare.
It felt like a rusty saw cutting into her temple, a jagged pain. Her face contorted but she refused to release the cry creeping up her throat. The savior slept on the other side of the fire with her little creature, and Regina would not allow her enemy to see more vulnerabilities in her.
She kept trying, weathering the pain as it grew until tears ran down her cheeks.
She brushed them away, annoyed and exhausted.
She heard dripping sounds: one constant and fast, others that were lazier, flopping down and echoing. She pulled the blankets around her more tightly.
The savior shifted in her sleep. The bird slept on her stomach, burrowed in a small leather sack, his head and rabbit-like ears poking out.
Regina sat up but it took effort, and sweat touched her back. The fire sometimes broke the inky darkness and cast shadows. The head of the pickaxe Emma had collected was distinct against the cave wall. It might serve as a crutch. She just didn't know if she had the strength to crawl to it and pull herself up.
Her crown, filled with a malicious presence, had always healed her if she wore it. It did so cruelly, for that was its nature, but she hadn't had so much as a cold for years. It had been her companion for nearly thirty years. She knew it was near or she would feel the strain in the bond. She didn't know where the savior had hidden it.
The savior's dress didn't allow for much to be hidden on her person. Her makeshift sleeping pallet was too close to Regina, and she doubted the other woman would be that foolish.
She was helpless.
Snow had caught her once, taken her prisoner and sentenced her. She hadn't felt powerless, even then. Not since her mother.
She had learned magic so she never had to feel this again.
She estimated the pickaxe was ten feet away. Not that far. She darted a glance at the savior again.
She pushed the blankets off and sat up. She carefully rolled to her "good" side, not the one with the broken leg. She reached forward, placing her forearm on the ground and pulling up, while pushing with her foot.
She inched against the rocks, keeping her splinted leg as still as possible. She had read stories of tests that involved walking on hot coals. Both her leg and her side burned with that kind of excruciating heat.
After a couple of feet, sweat rose against her spine.
She dragged herself forward again. Her stomach reacted to the continuous pain by gurgling, and clenching. It heaved once but receded into a series of spasms, then stopped. She took a moment, leaning on both elbows, hoping for relief. She rested her forehead against the cool rocks and felt a prickling sensation at the back of her head, where the knot was. Darkness pushed itself towards her, heavy and ruthless, trying to drag her away from consciousness.
No.
She coiled her anger close to kindle her determination. This was all Snow's fault. Everything was handed to her, even a prophecy and a daughter who would try to fulfill it. The rage gave her the strength to move again. And once more.
Her mouth was dry, her lips sticking together.
"Hey…" she heard. The savior rubbed her head and stood. She reached for water and sipped, coming to stand directly in front of Regina. "So, where you headed?" she asked casually.
Regina checked her progress: she wasn't even halfway across the campsite. Different parts of her body throbbed in turn. She clenched her teeth together, rage and pain swirling together, each trying to spiral higher than the other.
Regina straightened her body and rested on her side, finding the most comfortable position she could. It still felt like the ground under her was orange and searing through her clothes and skin. She gathered her animosity and pelted the savior with a glare. "I told you, if I can find my crown, it will help heal me." Her voice was gravelly and strained despite her determination not to show weakness.
The savior drank again and offered Regina the pot. Regina took it but didn't drink, as if that somehow allowed her to keep her pride. "We talked about that."
Regina slumped as the pain retreated and relief sang through her. It hadn't fully gone but it was a fraction of what it was. She could feel something beyond it now, like the rapid pulse at the side of her neck. She breathed in, slow. While she had been moving, her muscles had clenched so hard they felt as if they had turned to jagged stone, like the rock surrounding them. They jabbed at her skin from inside, while the ground she dragged herself over did the same from the outside.
Now, they loosened and softened.
She basked in the lesser pain before speaking. "If I can move on my own power, it's better for both of us." She attempted to shape her words into a logical-sounding conclusion. "You're trying to keep us alive, aren't you? Why would you not want as much help as I can give you? If I'm less of a burden, doesn't that increase our chances of getting out of here alive?"
"Well, it probably increases your chances. It also greatly decreases mine."
"You do realize that at any moment, I could destroy you?"
"With your magic, you mean?"
The question had an edge Regina didn't like. "I have, so far, decided to wait till we leave this place. I want a more public demonstration of what happens to those who defy me. I strongly suggest you do not test my patience."
The savior moved to their pile of supplies, reached into a bag, and held up the crown. "Okay, so then why haven't you just taken this? You could magic the crown to you somehow, right? So, why don't you? Why argue with me?"
Regina straightened so violently her back pulsed in pain. Her jaw tightened. She tried — just briefly — to cast a spell that seized it from the savior's hand and to her own. A drilling sensation started at her temple. She stopped and turned her face from the savior, hiding the contorted agony on her face.
"Come on, soon as you can, you're going to either zap outta here or try to kill me. Either that power that's screwing with Taz is also screwing with you, or maybe the pain? Your injuries?" Her features were relaxed, without fear or worry.
Regina maintained her dignity as best she could. "I don't know. Nor do I know when it could come back. Tomorrow, or five minutes from now."
"Or days?" She put the crown away again and returned to her seat by the fire. "Anyway, like I said — better for me if you don't have magic to try and kill me with."
"You're assuming I need magic to kill you," she said, projecting both amusement and a strong suggestion that the savior remember who she was. Her skill at sorcery was not the only reason she was feared.
The savior went back to her pallet and sat. She pulled one of the small, half-burnt sticks from the fire and stirred the coals. Had the flames been more spread out or larger, it would have offered more than the occasional lick of warmth, but they had to both ration the wood and be careful of creating smoke that would build around them, making it hard to breathe. "Look…this sucks. I think we can both agree on that. Right now though, getting out of here is the priority. I just think that might be easier if we put aside all the, well, stuff and try to work together."
"You and I, work together?" Regina painted a serene smile onto her lips. "Alright, I propose a deal. You give me my crown, and when it heals me I will use my magic to get us out of here. I'll even give you till the count of 30 to run. If you leave my kingdom, I'll let you live."
She stopped playing with the dying fire. She watched the flames then flicked her eyes to Regina's face. "What if I offered you my own deal? I get you out of here and, when I ask, you break the crown. Afterwards, I let you go and you leave the Whitranni kingdom."
Regina stared at her, trying to understand if the savior was truly ignorant of what would happen if she destroyed the crown. Fear sunk its talons into her chest. Knowledge was power, always. "Why would you assume I could so much as scratch a magical item that is older than the Whitranni kingdom itself?"
"I met a guy who told me some things. You're the only one who can destroy it, and if you do, my parents are free, right?"
"A guy? One with green skin perhaps?" Regina studied every flicker on the savior's face, She needed to know what she knew, but there was no hint, nothing to assist her. "Magic always comes with a price." She dangled the phrase like a baited hook. "Did he mention that?"
The savior frowned, confused. "Do you mean losing the kingdom? With all due respect. you don't seem to have that much invested in it, anyway. And you'll be alive. Maybe the prophecy doesn't have to come true."
Regina belligerently focused on the bag with the crown, not bothering to hide it. "You forget a couple of details, Savior. Your family has already cost me much. I would rather die than let you and yours take so much as a pebble of my kingdom. Besides, I rather enjoy having your mother for a decorative piece, and one day you'll join her."
The verbal stab was purposeful. She waited for some sign of strained control or temper. Some outward show that she had caused or exposed a wound.
None came.
Instead, the savior tossed the stick she had been using back into the small flames and said, "So much for cooperation."
Regina's frustration rose another notch.
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Taz woke a little later and Emma gave him some water. "You ready?" she asked him, and he nodded sluggishly. His long ears drooped to his shoulders.
Emma rubbed his head, feeling a weight of responsibility she hadn't felt for a long time. It only increased as the stubborn queen asked, "Would you hand me that pickaxe? I think I could use it to help me walk."
Her shoulders tensed. The queen wasn't going to like her answer. "You're still weak, and it would take too much time. We don't know how stable that bridge is. I'll have to carry you."
She gaped. "You have a bad arm."
"We'll need to get you up, then over my good shoulder. If I use Taz's speed, I think it will be okay."
"So, you're going to carry me like a sack of turnips."
Emma scratched the back of her head, searching for a safe answer to that and coming up short. "Uh, I just think it's the best way."
Regina didn't answer. Her features grew tight and grim. She stared at the wall across from her, clutching their only torch. In the room with the bridge, light spilled in from above, so it was a small concession till they were fully ready to move.
With the rope they had, Emma bundled together scraps of wood and Taz tested to see if he could carry it across. He made several passes back and forth across the bridge, carrying what little supplies they had to the other side. He could carry at least a few times his weight, which was useful. The last trip, they used rope to fashion a strap for the pickaxe so Taz could get it across as well.
When he returned, Taz was huffing and puffing from the exertion.
Emma rubbed his head. "Let's take a few, then we'll go."
"Sorry," he said as he curled into himself on her blanket.
"Stop," Emma told him and patted him. "Just rest."
When Taz was breathing normally again, Emma made him drink. She then wrapped her arms around Regina's waist, quickly pulling her up. She made sure the queen was balanced then bent over, muscling her shoulder into the queen's stomach and straightening with Regina dangling over her shoulder.
As she straightened, Regina gasped in pain. "Sorry," Emma said. "I'm going to walk us to the edge of tunnel then I'll use Taz's magic. It's better to use it in more open places. I'll go slow and try not to jostle you too much, til then okay?"
No answer.
"When I get to the bigger cave, we'll probably make it to the other side in a couple of heartbeats, so that part shouldn't be too bad," Emma said.
Still nothing.
She adjusted Regina's weight carefully and Taz flew to the top of Emma's head. "Hang on, Your Majesty." Regina didn't make a sound as Emma moved, but she could hear her stuttered breaths. She inched along, wondering if it wouldn't be less painful for the queen if she moved faster.
When the tunnel and ceiling gaped open, Emma connected with Taz's magic and dashed. She'd only carried people like this a couple times. August, for one. He had told her it felt like a violent gust of wind. She felt the queen flail but her arm locked Regina in place. Emma sensed the bridge beginning to sway but she completed the crossing before it could complete the motion.
Emma carefully lowered the queen to the ground. Regina leaned both of her hands on a stalagmite to keep her balance.
"You okay," Emma asked, rolling her shoulder, grateful to be on the other bank of the bridge safely.
The queen continued her silence. Emma got some fresh water and brought it to her, and as she grew close she saw that the queen's eyes were closed, knuckles white, fisted against the rocks she used to hold herself up.
"Water," Emma said and the queen reached for the pot, fingers curling around the handle weakly. Emma couldn't explain why she watched the queen drink, studying her as if she was a type of creature she'd never seen before.
These caves had been chipping away at her in a number of ways, yet she remained unbent and unbroken.
The queen frowned and gestured below them. "What is that?"
Emma turned in time to see first the churning of bubbles, then a large ripple in the river water below. "Sword," she said to Taz, and he leapt into her hand then transformed.
The water parted and from it came a creature that seemed to have hundreds of tentacles, two of them ending in long sword-like pincers. It rose and kept rising, till its shoulders were as high as the bridge, its bottom half still partially submerged. Over its head was a helmet of rusted metal that stretched up into horns and covered all but its bright blue eyes and giant maw. Barnacles popped up against its grey skin, reminding Emma of boils or pox. Several giant mollusks adhered to its short neck, just under its gills.
That was all she had time to see before a tentacle curled out of the water and then smashed onto the ledge they stood on. Emma lifted the queen around the waist and scrambled back. Rocks fell away from where they'd been standing, knocked loose by the strength of the blow.
Regina fell to the ground with an echoing hiss of pain. Emma stepped in front of her, twirling her sword.
"Wait, wait," Regina yelled, but Emma ran forward, swinging her blade over her head. As she tried to cleave the beast's arm, another tentacle plowed towards her. It would have hit her dead on, if it weren't for her magical speed as she dove to the ground.
She pushed up and recovered her sword. A pincer swung at her head and she ducked under it. She tried another attack, hacking into the wriggling arm of the beast as it attacked again. its shriek of pain sounded like pigs squealing, only at a much higher register.
A claw extended again and Emma, still using Taz's magic, waited to see where it would attack. She readied herself to counter the blow, then hopefully get in another hit.
But her speed dropped away and everything began to move in real time.
"Taz?" she called.
"I...I can't…"
"Shit."
"Savior," Regina shouted, and the monster swung in her direction, trying to snatch at her.
Emma dashed in front of her and batted it away. "Hey! You keep focused on me."
"Savior," Regina called again.
Emma ducked another swipe of a pincer, panting. "Little busy."
"Will you listen to me, you idiot? It's a Brylu. It can't leave the water."
"It can't?" Emma had to leap behind a stalagmite to avoid two tentacles trying to clap her to death. "So we just have to…"
"Get away from the water."
Emma backed up, dragging Regina with her. The creature's long arm crashed impotently, a few feet in front of them. The snap of pincers came next, but they had even less reach. The beast let out a mournful cry and tried again, still failing.
It all seemed very anti-climatic.
Emma cleared her throat. "Okay, okay, well...good." She held up her sword. "Taz, what happened?"
"I don't know. I can't turn into an owl," his voice was thready and afraid.
Emma rubbed a hand over her jaw. "Let's...let's explore ahead and see if we can find a good place to make camp."
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The tunnel leading from the river went down. It smothered a little of Regina's hope. The last thing she wanted was to go deeper into the caverns. If it had led up, it would have perhaps meant it would take them to the surface. For now, there was nothing to do but go on.
The savior carried her, making stops to rest as she needed savior's face was slack with exhaustion, but otherwise implacable. Her features occasionally reflected light curiousity or thoughtfulness, but nothing else. No fear when the river monster attacked. No anger earlier when Regina baited her.
Regina liked knowing the weaknesses of those around her and felt, for the moment, befuddled. Using manipulation to gain the upper hand meant being able to read your opponent. She wanted to be able to push the savior this way or that. At least until she regained her magic and then, well, it would be over.
The path down eventually forked, giving them a choice to either keep going straight or go right. They turned, the sound of water splashing and gurgling making the decision for them. The water came from high above, trickling down the cave wall and down a hole to rocks far below.
Yet the path was a dead-end. Another discouragement, a useless obstacle to their ever-weakening bodies and a reminder of how quietly savage these caverns could be.
They were too tired to go back to the main path so they made camp. Emma carefully filled the pot with water and gave some to Regina. Afterwards, she wet a cloth and smoothed it over Taz, cleaning the blade.
The sword must have said something Regina didn't hear because the savior said, "Stop that. It's okay, buddy. Maybe in a few hours, you'll be fine."
Regina shook her head, the words were so absent of warmth. Someone she couldn't control was someone she couldn't afford to trust. She questioned the absence of her own magic — caused by the power in these caves or her injuries?
Everything that had happened today was an exercise in humiliation. Depending on the savior, being slung over her shoulder, falling helplessly in front of a beast.
The savior had saved her life. It wrung out her pride.
"Here, let me see your leg." She had started a fire, then come to kneel at Regina's side. She didn't wait for an answer before she examined the ropes and wood boards. "How's your head?"
Regina felt for the lump that had been there. It was smaller. "Better. Probably be healed in no time at all." The words hinted at recovered strength, malice sparkling in Regina's eyes.
The savior frowned at the splint around Regina's leg. The end of one of the ropes was beginning to fray. She proceeded to carefully loosen the nearest knot. "They say you knew my mother most of her life, is that true?"
"Are you trying to make small talk? We have no supplies. We were almost killed by a deranged octopus and you're acting like we're walking in the park."
Emma's hands stopped working on the rope for a moment. "Forget it."
Regina readied herself to find the savior's weaknesses, honing her words to a sharp point before speaking. Relieved, in truth, to have a target for the heaping frustration that had gathered throughout the day. "Oh no, no — you asked about your mother. You want to know about her?" Her voice was airy, falsely pleasant. "She was spoiled. She was a fool. She was weak. She whined about her problems to anyone who would listen. I was never sure if the people loved her or merely felt sorry for her."
Emma freed the knot. "She still beat you."
"Really?" Her laugh settled low and throaty between them. She was eager, her entire body awaited a show of emotional bleeding from her opponent. "The kingdom is mine. It will stay mine. I separated your parents from one another and from you. I have a whole garden of so-called heroes who were just like you: self-righteous and arrogant; romantic figures in the eyes of the people but impotent, incapable of making hard choices." The savior tied the rope in place once then again. Regina continued to wait, trusting her skills at removing a person's emotional armor, certain that she would soon relish pain in the savior's eyes. "There's a reason most stories end when the heroes win the kingdom and don't show them ruling it."
The savior tied a second knot. "The nobles are about to tear one another apart. No one trusts you. You're isolated. You hide away doing whatever it is you do."
"And yet, unlike your mother, I am queen."
The savior shrugged, unimpressed. "Yeah, you're looking super queenly at the moment."
Regina hated how certain Emma sounded, how calm. Nothing she had done to find weaknesses had worked. The savior was immune, it seemed. Her fears twisted in her throat, threatening to choke her. She trembled, uncertain if it was from the cold or the anxiety now filling her veins.
Regina's eyes spit venom. "Your mother could have run, you know. If she had been willing to give up the kingdom, she and your father could have run and taken you with them."
She moved to the other side of the fire, sitting cross-legged. "My mother believed in sacrificing for her people. She was willing to lose me if it meant a chance at saving them. She thought it was a queen's obligation to sacrifice. What have you sacrificed for your people, Your Majesty?"
They stared at one another, battling. "Where did you get that about your mother, you know-nothing waif? One of her sycophants?
Emma lay on the ground near Taz, covering herself with the scratchy wool blanket. "This isn't...let's just get some sleep, okay?"
Regina thought Snow had earned all the hatred her heart was capable of feeling, but now the savior was a close second.
She could not be powerless. Never again.
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They had three blankets, and Emma continued to allow her two, despite their earlier discussion. Regina wasn't about to protest anything that might help her heal. Yet she couldn't stop shivering, her whole body constantly assaulted by chilly air. Her mouth dry, tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth, lips cracking. They were out of water till Emma woke and went to get more.
It occurred to Regina they truly could die down here. No food and tunnels that stretched on and on. There had always been legends of people coming into the mines and never returning. She wondered if Sidney had already given up searching for her and made himself Regent. He loved her, and she trusted him to a point. But she doubted the generosity of his heart would last more than a few days when there was power to be seized.
Henry. She closed her eyes and envisioned him. She wanted that future.
Perhaps Snow had been willing to a sacrifice her child for her people, but Regina would let everything burn if it meant keeping her child.
The savior dared talk to her of sacrifice after what she had given up to get her vengeance?
Except that hadn't been Emma's point. What had she sacrificed for her people? Nothing, which was what they deserved. She hadn't always thought that way. She hadn't always been so superbly motivated to help only herself. A product of her blackened heart, perhaps.
No, it was because she had had to steal every bit of happiness she had ever had. Every victory had been torn away from the many people and forces that would have denied her. She had never been given anything.
Except from her father. One exception in an endless sea of people. People took. They judged. They carved prejudices into themselves and refused to reexamine them. They went through patterns of misery and contentment. They grew discontented by prosperity, insisting on deeper freedoms without finding satisfaction. Then they wanted someone to save them from the threat of their own agency, to bring back yesterday. They sought the familiarity of tyrants who history would later decry as heroes or villains, depending on the will on the majority.
No one could stop that cycle.
But, if it was true that nothing could really be changed, what did that mean for Henry?
She turned into the blanket, trying to banish the questions the savior had unleashed in her. She had always appreciated her own practicality, but the depth of her cold logic sometimes surprised her; the bleak view of the world she had embraced. Henry would be born into this dark view of her kingdom. He would breathe it in and feel the same suffocation she did.
She just didn't want it to be true. Not for him.
She was queen. She was one of the most powerful magic users who had ever lived. Yet, she didn't believe she could change anything. What hope could she offer him? She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to.
She opened her eyes to the quiet play of firelight pushing against the blackness. She took a deep breath and tried to press her magic forward, to extend her will and make the fire brighter. A simple spell, something even a novice could manage. Her will connected to the power inside her. She pushed herself harder, a pinching feeling in the back of her neck.
So close, she could feel it — power gathering and wanting to be released, like a taut bowstring. Her head began to throb, so hard it made her breathing stagger. She stopped and rolled her temples with the tips of her fingers till the pain retreated completely.
She had to do something. She couldn't continue to wait here in the dark.
She rested, and when she had regained her strength, she rolled to her stomach. She checked the savior, asleep and motionless. Agonizingly, she half-dragged herself and half-crawled toward the gear near Emma.
This time the savior didn't wake. This time, she refused to stop for more than a moment no matter how the rocks scraped at her or how many times a stabbing pain shot through her leg down to her toes.
It was slow, but finally, she reached into the bag and curled her fingers around her crown. Regina placed it on her head, triumphant.
The power of the crown moved down her body like icy, intrusive fingers. But it always hurt when it healed her, and this time...this time there was nothing. Something was wrong. She searched her bond with the crown and tried to connect to it. Usually the sensation was like having a hook embedded in her chest, with a thick rope tied to the crown. This time, only thin scraps bound them together. She couldn't use its power. She wasn't sure it was healing her.
No.
No!
She needed….
She needed to go south, back toward the river and that creature. Away from whatever was here, impacting her magic.
The savior shifted to her side. An innocent motion, but it reminded Regina that getting the crown was only part of what she needed to accomplish.
She refused to let savior stop her again. Not again. Carefully she crept closer.
Regina's hand found purchase on Emma's bare neck. "You should have taken my deal," she said and squeezed as hard as she could.